_. Hoy again. Ally and I went to Brighton in the afternoon. My first visit to this peculiar resort. We inspected the Royal Pavilion - a remarkable building. We sat on the pebbles eating cheese burgers and chips, ice cream, and cockles and mussels. Nude bathers are allowed on the beach but we saw nothing naughty. It must be quite a painful experience rolling around stark bollock naked in the shingle beneath the pier.
Home at 7 with the intention of visiting Frank, but Bessie says he's far too miserable and has requested that we stay away. I took a leisurely bath.
Out to a few pubs in Winchester and then on to the Berni Inn where Ally and John Pinder's ill-fated loved flourished. As we were leaving the restaurant we bumped into Stan the milkman and his nauseating wife. They were friends when she was with John. We were carried off to a tiny house for coffee. It was obvious that we were taken back to be questioned for information to pass on to Pinder, with whom they are still friends. Pinder is living with Mrs S, and Mr S has taken off with the tart from the newsagent's shop. All very sordid. Home after one.
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