FRIDAY 7 JULY: Last day of shoot. Driving in to Shepperton at 6.30 a.m. squashed into the back of the car with all the presents and a unicycle between my knees (it's for Bernie, who, contrary to appearances, is a wild thing). Very successful morning doing Christmas. Ang very moving — loved his tea caddy but would have been happy with a teabag. Hugged me for a long time in silence. Everyone weepy.
Sun's come out. I lie down and listen to sounds of construction. We're all down at Kempton Park Racecourse now. Hot. Picnicky and fun. Last shot for me was at 7.30 p.m. Slate 549. In the carriage. Alan's got Wimbledon on. I didn't even know it was Wimbledon. It's the women's final. I cast aside my sweat-soaked corset in some reliëf while Kate collapses on the grass. She cries. I beg for alcohol.
10.15 p.m. Off home. Finished on Take 5 of Slate 550. A shot of Alan cantering against the sunset. The camera is inside a large gyroscopic white sphere, hung off the end of a small crane attached to a truck. Quite by accident I got a place on the back of the truck and witnessed the final take of the shoot go down, followed by the sun. Then we ate hamburgers and rubbery chips and drank champagne and there was much love around.
People very moved. Lindsay and Laurie cried. I just grinned from ear to ear all evening. All within Elinor's breast was strong, silent satisfaction (it's in the book).
SUNDAY 9 JULY: Real life kicks in. Weird. Fantastic wrap party. Ang gave a Chinese banquet. We sang to him. He spoke to me for some time about the joy of his job. For everyone, it's been uniquely happy. I am in a right old state of gratitude. Now cooking Lindsay's last meal in the UK and drinking beer.
Danced all night, despite back. Hugh Laurie's band played. Laurie Borg cried again. Stayed till the end. Home four-ish.
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