Sunday March 6th 1932

Barry came home about 10.30 and told me he had seen a ghost. This was in the dark of our bedroom, after he had switched off the light by pulling the string (as usual). We then both hummed 'Lights Out' (as usual). He had been with his girl, Lucy in a wood in Cut‑Throat Lane, where a murder had once happened. It was twilight; first they saw a man crouching behind a tree. Then a white shape, moving to and fro. They ran straight into and through a hedge. Lucy nearly fainted. 'I'll never go there again, never,' said Barry dramatically. 'We'll both go at the
weekend,' I said. 'In that case, I will go, with you' said Barry, because you are fearless'.