2nd Sunday after Trinity
Ally and I were awake at 8:30 to the smell of hot toast drifting upstairs. We lay in bed reading glossy magazines and looking at photos of Italian settees. Up and in the bath by 9. A full English breakfast and then a brisk walk to the river where we stood on the bridge and laughed at the ducks. Ally is furious because I packed nothing for her to wear. She is staggering around looking like a refugee. Frank and Bessie went for lunch to the Hargreaveses, and Ally and I put on shorts and ate a salad and sipped lemonade in the garden. A very hot day. Ally snoozed upon a lilo. She lay reading an article in one of the Sunday magazines about the Princess of Wales and fashion designers.
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| Bessie: knitting |
Both F and B seem delighted at our news and Bessie showed us piles of knitted baby clothes which our offspring will inherit. I read of the Cabinet changes. Leon Brittan is the youngest Home Secretary since Winston Churchill in 1911. Whitelaw, the new viscount, is Lord Privy Seal and becomes Mrs T's deputy. The Tory 'wets' are just about gone. It is so good to know that the country is in safe hands for another four years at least.
I burned my shoulders while sitting with the newspapers. Ally slept contentedly and peace reigned in the garden with only the occasional sound of cackling drifting over from the party at Chilland Barn. I could clearly hear Bessie giggling. They came back at 5 when it became dull and overcast and we made an exodus from the garden. Frank, full of wine, went off and fell asleep on his bed, a very rare occurence, and we three had a leg of lamb. Andrew is never at meals and we hardly see him. Bessie says he's only a lodger. Ally went upstairs leaving me with Bessie in front of the TV. I went up at 11.
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| Ally's lilo |
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