_. Good Friday
A sunny day. Mum remained in bed, citing illness. Is she perhaps in her menopause? Is 45 a little early, perhaps? How should I know?
We peeled the roof from the Spitfire and, after the traditional hot cross buns, we went to the Commercial which was busy but lacking in atmosphere. This was always on the cards following Annie and Ron's departure. From here we went to the Drop, which resembled the Albert Mausoleum at Frogmore. Then onto the Ings to join Sue and a band of girls from Wendy Wools. I can see why Sue enjoys life so much at Wendy Wools - they are all tarred with the same brush and are insane.
Ally dropped me at home and went to the Belfry. I had a pleasant night at the White Cross, where old friends are gathered for the start of the Bank Holiday binge. Revellers include: Johhny, Gus, Chippy, Phil Goya, Debs, Michael Dixon, &c. I recall a disgraceful groping session with Jill, Naomi's live-in companion. Back at home Mama is still in her bed. We watched a Hitchcock film. Ally appeared at about 11 in readiness for the clock to chime midnight and herald the start of my 25th birthday. Dear God.
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