Rose Beam’s Diary

Rose Beam’s Diary

17th April 1985

Almost got caught tonight! Knocked Gulliver’s Travels off the windowsill climbing back through the window. Luckily I managed to dive back into bed and pull the covers over my head before Mum came nosying about the room to catch me out in this minuscule lace Madonna dress. Twenty-five years old and still sneaking out of my parents’ house to go to a nightclub. Christ.

I’m itching to get a proper acting job so that I can afford to get out of here and be independent. Mum and Dad are steadfastly refusing to believe that I need to, especially with Nigel flipping Pemberton sniffing around with his oily hair and ‘I’ve got a tiny penis’ car and his stupid boring stock portfolio. Hello! It’s 1985 now! Women staying still until a marriage proposal approved by their parents is utterly archaic. It’s like a flipping Austen novel. Working at the gallery is horrendously dull and there’s no money in it, but at least I can escape this place for a little while every day while I figure out what I really and truly want to do with my one wild and precious life!

Anyway, I’m pretty tipsy (isn’t crème de menthe delicious?) and writing about things that are not even interesting. Victoria has invited me out again on Friday night to a rad new club called the Blue Canary. It’s in Soho. Father would die. Hah! I absolutely can’t wait. I love dancing. I love the colourful lights. I love going out with Victoria, she’s such a buzz and not at all stuffy like Anna and Claire-Marie.

Must sleep and dream now. Work in the morning. Boooo. REMEMBER, ROSE! You must hide flat pumps outside next time. Climbing on these balconies is dangerous even without the five-inch heels!

R x