Wednesday January 8, 1975

Wake up at 11.00am to find the house void of human life, other than me that is. Make myself a coffee and take the necessary medication which is supposed to do something for my cold. Give Kathleen a ring and tell her of the recent developments. She isn't particularly bothered about me being absent, and wishes me a speedy recovery.

Sit in bed reading the morning paper. I can hardly believe that the Stansted Airport trick pulled off without any hitches. The demented Arab will be feeling such a fool this morning. Climb out of bed and devour a bowl of soup. Deposit myself in front of the television until tea time, and repeat the pattern after devouring the meal. Bed at about 11 o'clock.

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