April Fool's Day but hardly a foolish one. Indeed, it was a sombre and worrying day. Carole rings me this evening to say she's had a bust-up with her parents over the cost of my birthday presents. She tells me that Peter P hit her across the face as they quarrelled. I meet her off the 8.20 bus and she staggers up to our place and has a good weep in the dining room. I'm stunned by the bruises and blemishes on her face. Her right eye is completely black and her right ear bruised. She can, of course, take out a summons against the offender, but that would almost certainly mean her vacating her room at 14, Oakridge Avenue, and her financial situation prevents her from achieving this at the moment. She is greatly upset and stunned. I ask her to stay the night here. We sit up chatting until 1 o'clock.
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