Madly, Deeply: The Alan Rickman Diaries

Nice to see them all again but it’s a dreamlike thing, as if it has never stopped. And in a way, it hasn’t – and won’t . .

18 December

Troll in the bathroom day

But Snape seems to live.

Talking to her is talking to someone who lives these stories, not invents them. She’s a channel – bubbling over with ‘Well, when he was young, you see, this that and the other happened’ – never ‘I wanted so & so . . .’

Talk to Joanne Rowling again and she nervously lets me in on a few glimpses of Snape’s back

First conversation w. Joanne Rowling. Her sister answers – ‘She’s not here – can I leave a message?’ Cackling in the background . . . ‘Sorry about that! . . .’ ‘There are things that only Snape & you know – I need to know . . .’ ‘You’re right – call me tomorrow; no one else knows these things . . .’

Around the pool and feeling a bit nothing about HP which really disturbs me –

NB Harry Potter is offered . . .

29 August

Very sleepless. The deepest sadness, now depression, settling way down low in the pit of everywhere. Elastoplast – whatever, needed to drag it all up and out for an afternoon of interviews.

First an 11am chat with Judy & Patrick. Something has to be said about Holy Man. How much more work can I turn down?

Meanwhile mixed reviews as far as I can tell. Some of them get it. Some of them not. Start rearranging the inside of my head. Again.

I need months off.

walled town, public holiday, everything’s shut, walk around the shuttered windows, snooze at the hotel, go out for some dinner (if anything’s open) find the obviously annual relay race around the old town going on (the blue team won), the whole town watching, families everywhere, little children running around or sitting on laps in cafés (even at midnight) totally included. A practised sixth sense leads us to the big open-air pizzeria, red wine, salad, coffee, perfect.