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| Club Street. |
I went and stood with Ally at her bus stop and watched her disappear down the lane. I found a corner of the garden and sat crouched like an Indian among the conifer bushes and bags of builders sand. Mrs Greenwood's door was open and so I climbed over the wall and spent ten minutes with her. She told me that Betty Heap at number 20 (Club St) is a fallen woman. I have seen a young Pakistani coming and going at odd hours and assumed he was a lodger. Betty must be at least 60.
At 11 I switched on the telly and watched the State Opening of Parliament. No stunning measures. It is always touch and go as to whether Lord Hailsham will survive the spectacle. We were told that HM had excused him from walking backwards.The Queen looked older. The Duke of Edinburgh always has a grin on his face. I'd love to know what he's thinking. Back into the garden with cheese on toast at 12. I am instructed by Ally to get brown. She likes bronzed barmen.
My cousin-in-law-to-be Paul Edwards is 19 today. He looks much older.
Later, the woman from the social services who comes to visit Britt (Greenwood) at night to ensure she's tucked up knocked on our door to say she's found her on the floor ... again. We went round. Poor Mrs Greenwood was dazed and shaken. She fell over three hours before whilst making a sandwich. We gave her a brandy and she came round. She is terrified of being taken away to hospital and pleads with the Irish nurse not to tell anyone. Her sons were phoned who say they'll visit later. We sat with Mrs G until 8:30. A thunderstorm. We told her our baby news. She confided in us that she had been a naughty girl and had to get married when she was 23 - in 1911, the year of King George V's coronation and when Asquith was PM! Those days were different.
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