20200415

Monday February 11, 1980

_. Up at 7:30. Glynnie was making one hell of a racket and didn't seem to notice that Sue and I creep around and talked in hushed, monastic tones. We went to Leeds on the train and I said my goodbyes to Dave at 8:30. He toddled off carrying two of the less intelligent morning papers, and I headed to the office. Sarah has resumed normal relations now that I am restored to full health.

I am told that Malcolm Barker's secretary phoned me on Friday afternoon, and so I waited expectantly for a summons to the oval office, but no summons came. Has Geoff Hemingway been singing my praises?

Mother has a septic finger and looking pained. She is seeing a doctor tomorrow.

To bed after watching Barry Norman. Always a joy to behold.

-=-

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