Firstly, let me assure you that Beverley Nichols is (or was) a man. Secondly, I have to admit that until very recently we were complete strangers – and without a chance comment from Annette in her Personal Eden, expressing surprise that we had not met before, then we might have remained strangers to each other for ever. Annette felt strongly that it would be advantageous to make each others’ acquaintance, and a meeting was set up immediately, facilitated by our mutual friend, Amazon.
I fell on him with open arms the moment he crossed the threshold yesterday, and I don’t know if the attraction is mutual but I am afraid I couldn’t keep my hands off him and I have been hanging onto every word he utters …. in truth, I am smitten!
Annette berated me for my ignorance, but am I the only one who has waited till later life to get to know him? If he was alive today he would be blogging with the rest of us in his own inimitable style, and if he had died a good bit before he did in 1983 I would have been honoured to have had him reincarnated into my size 4s – not that my writing drips off the keyboard in anything remotely like the molten gold words that seem to slide effortlessly from his mouth, so chance would have been a very fine thing. This, his first gardening book, is an autobiographical account written in the 1930s that follows the creation of his first garden – but it is a gardening book like no other. He writes as he thinks, telling it exactly as it is, and with a style that has had me giggling and nodding in agreement in equal measure. For those who have already had an affair with him, you will know exactly what I mean – and for those who haven’t it would be selfish to keep him to myself, so I will be generous and willingly share my relationship with anyone else who thinks they will find him attractive.