At school I speak with Jackie Petit, who tells me she is giving a camp-fire rave-up in a field near the home of Michael Stott this evening. MM is close at hand, and he also sees the fun which is to be had at such a gathering - and especially with Miss Petit. I inform the delectable Jackie that I may pay her a visit after closing hours. She smiles amiably.
Later. After the usual round of telephone calls I arrive at the Fleece half an hour later than everyone else. From 8.30 until 11 I am sandwiched between Miss Christine White and Miss Laura Butchard. Laura is clad only scantily, in one of her very low-cut gowns, but reeking of those intolerable moth-balls. How weird all these evenings are without Dave, poor soul, whi is flogging his guts out in Worcester - and four four years!
Tragedy! At 11 o'clock MM just stands up and announces that he's going home. I ask: 'what about Jackie's party?' He quips: 'Oh, it will all be over by now.' I disagree and tell him so. He gives John and I a lift home.
See a good film starring Stewart Grainger as a brutal wife murderer. Lynn also sees it with me. I am in bed by nearly 2am. Sleep soundly.
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