The Daily Mail has been serialising extracts from Edwina Currie's 1992-97 diaries ("shameless, unflinchingly blunt yet compulsively readable"). But the Guardian has gained exclusive access to the former MP's diaries for September 2012, as yet unwritten but provisionally entitled But That's Enough About You. Now read on:
Belgravia (Edwina's London pied-à-terre), Tuesday 4 September: The papers all say David Cameron is planning a reshuffle, so I have stayed close to the phone all day. How well I remember the advice I gave him when he was a clueless young special adviser at the Treasury, helping John Major's useless government ruin the economy. But look at him now, despite not being physically very attractive (that face, doesn't he know any plastic surgeons?). Though Dave never made a pass at me (unlike that Boris, cheeky boy!) I'm pretty sure he's still grateful and may want me to help refresh his tired team. This wet coalition needs more super 60s ministers with experience. A certain Baroness Currie would make a lot better job at justice than Fatso Clarke.
Derbyshire (Edwina's country hideaway), Wednesday 5 September: I can't believe it. Cameron has overlooked me again; he's obviously a misogynist or gay. I do feel for poor Sayeeda Warsi, though she could lose a few pounds. But none of the women he's promoted are attractive. As for sending that Murdoch creep, Jeremy Hunt, to my old department, what can No 10 have been thinking? Jezzer's just the sort of twit to drop cringe-making and insensitive gaffes which upset voters and no one remembers – unlike my tough talk on salmonella in '88. I was right about eggs, as I explained to Margaret at the time. But she wouldn't listen. It was the beginning of the end.
Hull (where Edwina is doing a quiz show on Radio Humber), Thursday 6 September: Must check that No 10 has my new mobile number in case Cameron still has a surprise up his sleeve. Unfortunately the Paralympics and some ghastly murder in France is taking the spotlight off the reshuffle. But wasn't Michelle Obama's speech great at the Democratic convention! She certainly took my tips to heart, unlike my ex-lover who I can't identify because he's a former prime minister. So let's just call him JM. He's a sorry sight nowadays and has put on weight.
Antibes (Edwina's French bolthole) Friday 7 September: That Naomi Wolf, what a narcissist publishing a smutty book about front bottoms. Not what a fearless but respectable Scouse lass like me would do. But Cameron's reshuffle is looking worse. The tabloids say he was roaring drunk when he sacked poor Cheryl Gillan (lay off the chocs, darling) and threw Justine Greening down the stairs. These men – they think it makes them look tough. But Boris Johnson is managing to show him up. A pity I had to spurn Boris's overtures. But he was only nine, bless him.
Nice airport, Sunday 9 September: One of my kids rang tonight asking to borrow my Karl Lagerfeld suit. I ask you, young people today, it's all "me, me, me". No wonder George Osborne finds it so hard to connect with ordinary voters, he's barely out of Oxford. Some people just don't have the common touch – "unlike you, Edwina" as I once remember Michael Heseltine saying in front of Bill Clinton. Now Bill, he knew how to treat a lady, loved my cameo role on Strictly.
Belgravia flat, Monday 10 September: I've been watching question time on the parliament channel. What a bunch of losers. How did I stand that bad breath for 14 years? But it was great to see Esther McVey becoming a minister. She's from Liverpool, too, and even looks at bit like me from some angles. I hope she's not being harassed by all those blokes. Her boss, that Duncan Smith, always talks like a goody goody, but you can never tell. Just look at JM, my ex-lover. No one would have guessed what a bluebeard he was until I let it slip in my first Diaries (Amazon 45p).
M3 traffic jam, Tuesday 11 September: An exhausting book promotion takes me to Radio Pompey in the top 6.50am slot. But I later grabbed some downtime with the TV in the foyer. That Sebastian Coe, what a smoothie! How did I overlook his potential when we used to work out together in the Commons gym? Seb's been up before the home affairs (I'm an expert!) select committee and even Keith Vaz (too much pudding, Keith?) praised his running of the Olympics. No fun at all then. The TV news says Labour's Tessa Jowell has thrown in the towel. Some women just can't hack it. But I am cheered to hear George Osborne announce that there will be open competition to succeed Mervyn (what a bore!) King as governor of the Bank of England. I must remind George that I read PPE at Oxford. Appointing a woman would improve Britain's doddery image abroad. I once told the Queen as much, but she ignored me. Just look at her now!
