Nice lunch. Sit in the front garden with Lynn, Dave, John and 'George' and have some revolting salmon sandwiches for tea. God only knows just what they put in those little tins. I'm 99 per cent sure it isn't fish anyway.
Finish reading 'Bertie', a novel about Albert Edward, Prince of Wales by Tyler Whittle. The book was a good deal better than David Butler's.
Listen to the radio as usual, then have Carole on the phone. She's ringing from 'George's' and she wants me to go round and see her, but I say 'no' and stick to my guns throughout. She says: 'Dave will be seeing Lynn and John will be seeing Maria. So why can't I see you?' I fail to see the connection, and leave her moping calling me a 'rotten sod' &c.
Sit with Mum through a Burt Lancaster film and then see an Italian one with sub-titles. Come to bed at about 12.30 feeling miserable again. Where is that happy, smiling lad that was Michael Rhodes? Sad, isn't it?
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