1st August

Miracles do happen. I was dizzy from lack of air when I heard a drilling sound. Had Elkie come to my rescue ? Don't be pathetic and childish - Elkie is an elk. It was my friend Ian Devine come to rescue me. "Dennis" he gasped. "You've come to save me" I shouted. "No - I'm here on one of my regular raids of the archives - you never know when they might start burning things again" he replied. Be that as it may, my friend Ian Devine saved my life. I bought him a pie in the Elk and Bush and he swallowed it whole. I bought him another pie. And another and another and another. I emptied my wallet buying pies for my friend Ian Devine and it was worth every penny - I am saved. Dennis Brent is alive <g>

5th August

I ventured into the cesspool that is the BBC Internet message boards. Under the guise of "fun" they were suggesting names for possible lead actors in television's Doctor Who. Most of them were utterly pathetic and impracticable. They argued that it was a "fantasy" game but I saw the truth - when they make their suggestions they are utterly unaware of the budgetary constraints of television production, the complexity of contract negotiations and the probability of the artist committing themselves to a long term project. They are ignorant peasants and they don't deserve me.

10th August

Something very odd happened last night. I was enjoying a game of darts on my own in the Elk and Bush when I saw a woman glancing at my jacket. It's a very nice, sensible jacket and I assumed she was intending to steal my wallet. I went over, brandishing a dart, and asked her what she thought she was doing. She said she was actually looking at the book which was poking out of the pocket. It was "Doctor Who - The Definitive Guide - Season 4" written by myself and my friend Andrew. She said she had read the first three and was eagerly awaiting volume 4. I immediately put my defensive dart down and asked her if she would like a small glass of wine. We discussed the first three volumes (she was surprisingly knowledgeable about the dimensions of Lime Grove studios) and finally I asked her name. "Jennifer Morgan-Dalby" she replied. I told her I was Dennis Brent and she gasped. She took a deep sip of her small glass of wine and asked if I was serious. I told her that I was Dennis Brent and I was always serious. She told me she had pledged that if she ever met me she would buy me a small glass of scotch and this she did. We are having dinner later this week - I've decided it would be romantic to take her an autographed Photostat copy of the Tom Baker "Masturbating halfwit" memo (the significance of which led me to write this diary in the first place).

15th August

Early - I am writing this in the bath. I've spent most of the day in the bath, getting ready for my dinner engagement with Miss Morgan-Dalby. Every time I'm nice and clean, Elkie urinates in the water and I have to start again from scratch. Anyone would think she didn't want me to meet a nice woman and settle down with her. I am going to telephone Donald and see if he will let Elkie spend the evening with Elko (separate stalls). If I am going to enjoy and evening with a member of the opposite (as opposed to h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l) gender, I think it only fair that Elkie be allowed to do the same. Oh drat it - Elkie's urinating on me again. Bad elk.

Later - I eventually managed to clean myself and get out to meet Miss Morgan-Dalby at the local Harvester. She looked rather hansom in a sensible blue twin set. I guessed she was about 30 - a nice sensible age. None of this childish nonsense which seems to afflict the young but at the same time she wasn't all wrinkled and past it. I explained this too her and she seemed flattered. She was full of questions about Doctor Who and I answered them fully and completely. I could see the energy of love in her eyes as I gave her chapter and verse on models of coach used to take the cast and crew to location shoots in the late 1960s. When the time came to pay the bill I was almost tempted to pay her half too but eventually she insisted we split the bill. It was odd to come home to an empty house (Miss Morgan-Dalby offered to come back with me but I told her it was too late for a guided tour of my archives and I couldn't think of any other reason she'd want to stay at my house overnight). Donald had left a telephone message to say that Elkie had arrived safely (I worry about her using that moped - it's not safe drat it) and was enjoying and evening of television with Elko. I'm going to bed now - it's been a good day.

20th August

I am in a moral quandary. I was in the Elk and Bush last night and a seedy looking man asked me if I wanted a lock of Patrick Troughton's hair. I told him I'd already got one but he said this was greying and came from The Two Doctors. He said he'd personally removed it while Mr Troughton was taking a nap between scenes. This is, of course, technically illegal and I'm afraid of the consequences. Just on the off chance I bought a special hair frame for it and cleared an 8x10 gap on the wall of my head room. I had to lose the autograph of Peter Davison's hat maker but that was only covering a soup stain in the first place. There is a moral dimension to everything - am I strong enough to know what to do? I'd ask my friend Ian Devine but he'd only sneak behind me back and buy it from under me. I owe it to the law to act legally at all times but I owe it to posterity to ensure that history is not left in the hands of my friend Ian Devine.

22nd August

I have decided to buy Patrick's hair. The crime was committed almost twenty years ago - if the police were looking for the culprit, they would have closed their file some time ago. If anyone ever asks (and my friend Ian Devine is bound to, motivated by jealousy) I'll tell them the shady man retrieved it from a hair brush. A particularly vicious hair brush I admit but a hairbrush nevertheless.

25th August

My clump of Patrick's hair is a thing of beauty. It took several hours but I managed to get it so the morning light glints on the silvery highlights. I was almost moved to tears. This is the best nine hundred pounds I have ever spent. I think I'll invite Miss Morgan-Dalby for a private viewing. But I am still panged with guilt - not for breaking the law, this time it is because I have not told Elkie about my new baby. I can't take the risk of her eating it, selling it or sitting on it. I will invite Donald to see it too - none of his beloved Star Trek captains can boast hair <g>

31st August

Disaster. My worst fears have been realised. It could hardly be worse if I discovered I was a h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l. I went to look at Patrick's hair and there was a gap where it should have been. It's dubious legal provenance means I can't go to the police for assistance. I will have to solve this mystery myself. Can I do it ? Of course I can - I'm Dennis Brent. I've spent all day trying to think of suspects and I've narrowed it down to the following - (1) Elkie, (2) Elko (possibly acting on Elkie's behalf), (3) Donald, (4) Jennifer Morgan-Dalby, (5) The seedy man from the Elk and Bush, (6) My father (Wollaston Brent), (7) my friend Ian Devine and (8) David/Michael Troughton. I shall begin questioning tomorrow but I must be my usual tactful self or they might be offended at me accusing them of theft.