Tuesday October 1, 1985

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Sam and his toy car.

Woke feeling hot and groggy. I could quite easily have stayed in bed. I have bought a new paperback 'The Witches of Eastwick' by John Updike. I do hope it won't be too intellectual for my small , insignificant and child-like grey matter. Just boiled eggs at breakfast time. The three of us went down to the river. Samuel more interested by the drains than the ducks. A load of old mallards. Back at Ch. Cross Bessie was pale and shivery, but sat outside with us. Hot. You would never believe it's October. Ally did a bit of packing. Very depressing. We sat in the sun, Sam nude from the waist down following a dreadful accident. The shit oozed out all over my knees. Ally like a large, brown warthog. Little JPH was nine yesterday. We delayed leaving because Ally didn't want to travel in the blazing sunshine. We left at 4 and got home to Club St for 8. Sam was perfection in the car and he played with his new toys and sang 'Happy Birthday' loudly and with gusto. In the house we ate cheese and drank wine, whilst Samuel gave a recital on the piano. Phoned Dad who told me that Susie is ten weeks pregnant and it has been confirmed by a scan and she has seen Mr. Glass. Baby is alive and kicking and all is well. Dad was making wine and had no other news but a note of mystery crept into his voice when he said "please phone Lynn too", and he went off giggling. We immediately phoned Lynn but she had no news whatsoever. She must be waiting to see us in person to make some sort of announcement. Phoned Sue who was overjoyed. The baby is due April 28, 1986. This of course means March, April or May. Or even July. I asked her if Lynn has any happy news and she giggled and says not but added that David B had a vasectomy on Friday. He's been 'snipped'. How nauseating. It's his choice. Ally is stunned. We thought they were going for four, 2 of each, &c. Saw Kinnock on the news giving a roasting to the Left. Hopeless though. He's a puppet. Simone Signoret is dead from cancer at 64. Bed after wine at 11:30. The three of us slept together in the double bed. Sam in his posh, grown-up pyjamas.

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