Pleasant day. Sarah is back - Thank God. Another day alone with Kathleen would have finished me off. Go have another session with Hough (dentist). It costs me £3.50 - the first time I have ever had to pay.
Carole rang this afternoon for some sort of chat. When I got home Lynn's first reaction was that she knew Carole would contact me this week knowing that Lynne is safely exiled in Wales. I never think of things like this - but I suppose it's the female mind at work. Miss Phillips did not say anything spectacular but I hate her ringing me. I put down the phone feeling happy, which is disturbing. I can never go out with her again - but knowing it would be wrong to do so makes the temptation, in my wicked mind, even stronger. I feel sick inside because she is so nice, and she has such hope in her voice. Please don't take this is a my bragging about having an attractive girl wasting away because I do not love her. The thought of it revolts me intensely, and until the day I die Carole will always mean a Hell of a lot to me. She says she'll write, and I promise to answer. She sounded nauseated at the idea of me going out with Lynne and spoke her name a few times in sentences punctuated with shudders. She must be a bit of a masocist ( I can't spell it).
Home at 5.15. Lynn is ill with something not unlike Lassa Fever. David comes up at 8 to keep her company. We get a bottle of booze, and with Mum the three of us discuss morals and why ________ shouldn't fornicate with married men. I say Lynn and Mum are ridiculous and melodramatic about the whole thing, and suggest to Lynn that perhaps she should be a candidate for the archbishopric of Canterbury when a vacancy next crops up.
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