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Thursday August 24, 1978

St Bartholemew

Nightmare of a day. At about 8 this morning I sprained my ankle, or perhaps twisted it, down in Guiseley whilst going for my bus. I tripped on a crooked pavement and fell through the door of Rhodeses Newsagents shop and landed on a revolving Christmas card display, showering shoppers with cellophane, glitter covered robins, and grotesque Santa Clauses.

Wracked with pain for the rest of the day I staggered about the office to the moronic amusement of my colleagues. What with my arse, and now this.

Jacq dissolved when I told her. She came and collected me with a wheelchair and pushed me across to the Central for a quick anaesthetic. She cried with laughter. The swelling worsened in the afternoon and I had to resort to asking Papa to pick me up at the bus stop to ferry me home.

Reclined in the bath later. Found solace with Lady Chatterley at about 10:30. Dave B accused me harming my own ankle on purpose to avoid working at Lawn Road.


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