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Dearest Gentle Reader,
It is Tuesday, and Tuesday has once again proved itself constitutionally incapable of minding its own business. The warmth outside is quite extraordinary – twenty-five degrees promised by Wednesday, which in this Kingdom passes not merely for pleasant weather but for a full national event. This Author recommends enjoying the sunshine while it lasts, for by Thursday the heavens will have reconsidered, as they always do, and we shall be back to sensible British misery. For now, however, society has rather more pressing matters to attend to than the pollen count – though, given what follows, several of today’s protagonists may wish they had simply stayed indoors, sneezing.
The Physicians’ Grand Union has declared its fifteenth – yes, fifteenth – round of industrial action, as resident doctors in the Southern Kingdom walked out at seven o’clock this very morning for a six-day strike. These resident doctors, formerly known as junior doctors (a title they have most firmly rejected, along with, apparently, their rotas), constitute nearly half the medical workforce. Lord Streeting, the Health Secretary, assured the nation via the Broadcasting Society’s Morning Programme that ninety-five per cent of appointments remain in place, and apologised to those affected with what one can only describe as the weary sincerity of a man who has made this speech fourteen times before. He declared resident doctors “by a country mile the best winners of the entire public sector workforce when it comes to pay rises” – a remarkable thing to say to a group currently on picket lines. Dr Fletcher, chair of the Physicians’ Grand Union‘s resident doctor committee, expressed genuine sorrow to patients, whilst noting that delays in care occur quite regularly without any strike action at all – a rather devastating point, delivered with admirable restraint. The government, for its part, calculates the action has cost the NHS fifty million pounds a day, totalling some three billion pounds since March 2023. One wonders, idly, whether simply paying the doctors might have proved the more economical arrangement.
From the ailing at home, This Author turns to the ailing abroad – specifically, those more than 1,700 Britons who holidayed in the Cape Verde islands and returned with rather more than a suntan. Lawyers from Irwin Mitchell are leading a personal injury claim against travel company Tui, with clients reporting gastric horrors including E. coli, salmonella, shigella, and cryptosporidium – an itinerary one suspects did not feature in the brochure. At least eight Britons are believed to have died following holidays there in recent years, and the Crown Health Security Agency has, since October 2025, recorded 112 cases of shigella and 43 of salmonella linked to travel to Cape Verde. Tui, with commendable brevity, states it is “not in a position to provide a statement at this stage.” This Author imagines it is not in a position to do much of anything comfortably at this stage, which, under the circumstances, seems almost fitting.
The government, meanwhile, has announced that up to 250 schools in knife crime hotspots across the Southern Kingdom are to receive specialist training, backed by a £1.2 million investment. Measures may include mentoring for high-risk pupils and chaperones on school routes. The Tories accused the government of “massive cheek”; the Liberal Democrat Society said the measures would not suffice; and Reform Society interpreted the entire scheme as informing children that their personal safety is their own lookout. All three parties, it must be said, managed to express outrage whilst studiously avoiding any suggestion of what they themselves would do instead – a talent that crosses all political allegiances with impressive consistency. Knife crime did fall by nine per cent in 2025, which is at least something. New mapping technology, developed to pinpoint hotspots to the nearest ten square metres, will assist constabularies in identifying precisely where danger lurks – though This Author notes that most children could have told them for free.
And now – stamp prices. The Royal Post Office has raised the cost of a first class stamp to £1.80, an increase of ten pence, while second class now costs 91p. This marks the eighth increase in five years, during which period the Royal Post Office has delivered a mere 77% of first class letters within one working day, against a target of 93%. A decade ago, a first class stamp cost 64p. It is now almost three times that price. The Royal Post Office explains that people are sending fewer letters while the number of addresses grows – a logic that, applied to any other service industry, would result in improvement rather than surcharges. The Office of Communications caps second class prices; first class, one gathers, may ascend to whatever altitude the company fancies. This Author has begun to consider whether important correspondence might be more economically delivered by personal footman.
Finally, Lord Barton – former footballer of varying distinction, having graced clubs too numerous to list with any great admiration and earned precisely one England cap – appeared at Liverpool Crown Court by video link from his current residence at Liverpool prison, to deny a charge of grievous bodily harm with intent upon a former non-league football manager at Huyton and Prescot Golf Club. A golf club, Gentle Reader. One raises a single eyebrow and lowers it again. Lord Barton was remanded into custody; his trial is set for the first of September and shall run seven days. This Author declines to speculate on the outcome, but notes that a man who cannot secure bail seldom inspires confidence in his alibi.
I am, as ever, your most devoted observer – Lady Whistledown.