Wednesday November 23, 1983

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Ready for dinner.

Frost. Biting cold in fact. Bessie was out at her dentist and so we waited for her and took her into Southampton for the afternoon. She rarely ventures there because she doesn't like driving on the by-pass. We trudged around a damp Southampton for hours. We spent too long in Mothercare, and amongst other things she bought a dressing gown in readiness for her stay at the BRI. Later, in Dorothy Perkins she bought a grey and black creation suitable for next week's dinner dance, that is if our invitations ever arrive. Bessie gave Ally a pearl necklace which will go nicely with the new frock. The Princess of Wales has brought pearls back into fashion. Not that they were ever 'out' but associated with old matrons on the platform at the Tory conference. Tonight we went back with F & B to Southampton and the Potters Heron (where F had left his briefcase) and we dined at La Margherita's, a noisy but pleasant place, like a plot of Italy on British soil. I had steak au poivre, and the others had veal marsala. Very good. Ally says I'm quiet. Reflective maybe. Back at 10:30 and to bed shattered. I had a dream about the Red Lion and everything going wrong.

-=-