Tuesday June 14, 1983

 Up at 9 today. We ate mounds of toasted currant tea cakes and sat with the Daily Express in the cathedral-like kitchen. Labour is in shambles. (Michael) Foot is going in October and Neil Kinnock is leading the field. Roy Jenkins is standing down to make way for David Owen. The opposition already discussing tactics for the 1988 election. Bloody fools. 

Andrew: secretive

Andrew's motorcycle has broken down and for some peculiar reason he dare not tell his parents. He is such a queer, secretive person. Bessie cannot understand him and he seems to come and go living in a solitary world. At one time he seemed to come out of himself a bit with his sister, but now we don't see him. Occasionally we hear his Winchester accent drifting over from another room.

We went to town for a stroll around the shops and escaped from the heat into a cavern-like hostelry where we sat in basket chairs with lager. Ally has a hungry look about her and suggests lunch at the Berni (Inn) and before you can say Norman Tebbit we were bounding through the crowded streets in the direction of the restaurant. On entering Ally was immediately recognised by Doreen, the ancient waitress. We had rump steak with salad and no wine. A large satisfying lunch. At 3 we returned to the garden at Chillandham Cross. On the way to car I spotted a pastel-type print of King Edward VIII in a dark frame and had to have it. Blimey, it was only £2.30. We sprawled on the lawn. Bessie slightly peeved because she has put a chicken casserole in the oven and we are too bloated to appreciate it. I did manage to eat only a fraction of it at 8. Ally was in bed by 10:30 and Bessie and I were alone. Frank was out at a headmasters' dinner and was late.

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