Sarah took me to Rawdon in Delia's car, which was good of her. I'm supposed to be going to tea with them both next week. Whether I shall or not depends on the movements of Mr W.A. Collis, because I'm never entertained there when he's lodging at home. He hates me.
Jacq started work today at Dacre, Son & Hartley. I phoned her tonight to see how things went. She says OK. The money is ghastly after London but that's the way things are. It's Dacre's dinner dance on Saturday and I'm accompanying Jacq. More expense!
We are going for a quick drink on Wednesday lunchtime, not before. She is attempting to manage my financial affairs. I have every intention of achieving solvency by August or September.
Sandy Denny, the singer, is dead.
Christine phoned. Goodnight.
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