Don't hear a bloody thing until Mum and Dad come in for lunch at 1.45pm. Sat yawning over a cup of tea and then opened my mail. Two bloody letters. One from Helen Malin which points out I owe her £1 and not vice versa. Oh shit. I said that the royal baby would be born in the spring or summer of '77 and if it arrived any later I would pay up. What a horrific thought. The other is a letter from Kathryn. It is perfection itself and I settle down to reply and before I know where I am it's 4 o'clock and time to go to the dreaded YP.
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| Diary: red ink works wonders |
Charged down the lane and got at bus. At the office for 5. I made enquiries about coaches for Saturday returning Sunday. Peter Mather amazes me __________.
Work was busy and tiresome. Ursula is very nice to work with. I do believe I experienced an erotic dream about her the other night. Of all people. I must be daft or something. How do you like my change of handwriting? Mrs Monkman, who left number 60 yesterday, gave me the pen. I do believe her brother sent it to her from Japan. One would have thought that the Japs would have caught onto the biro by now. I still think this nice red hue works wonders. Blue ink became so depressing.
The taxi driver tonight was no leading authority in any field. If he was he didn't bring it into the conversation.
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