Dearest Gentle Reader, this Sunday brings fire, collision, and political paralysis in quantities sufficient to exhaust even the most devoted observer of society's theatre. A prime minister gets on with the job - but which job, and for how much longer? And one rather loud television personality has news that is, for once, entirely welcome.

Dearest Gentle Reader, this Friday delivers a prince who sub-lets, a machine that outsmarts every virologist alive, and a mathematics paper so brutal it has driven twenty thousand souls to petition for mercy. Whether one's concerns run to royal cottages, university crossbows, or the imminent implosion of the Progressive Assembly's leadership arrangements, this Author has the full, rather bewildering account - and she trusts you will not wish to miss a single syllable of it.

Dearest Gentle Reader, this Author sat down to breakfast this morning and discovered that thirty thousand emails have been residing at the Palace for six years - and that is merely where today's extraordinary chronicle begins. There are triumphs of science, outrages of justice, and the singular indignity of being told to arrive at the airport three hours early and bring your own water. Raise your lorgnette and read on.