Tuesday 19th February 1935

A letter from Audrey on the tea-table. A sweet one, which made me feel happy and sad. Especially the PS; “It is the stirrups which are missing from the Copper Horse.”

Plaintive, inconsequent reference to an old argument we had. Phoned Peggy. Not in; she’d gone to the Pictures (alone). Apparently however, she hadn’t changed her mind about our next meeting. Gave her the chance, anyhow! When I first spoke to Wood Haw, I was mistaken for some other young man…

Dashed to Windsor, cycle running beautifully; met Bob and went to Datchet. Pageant meeting was diverting but made us both feel quite disgusted. Petty bickering. We conversed by scribbled notes, as follows –

Y. There are no young people in this Group.
D. Not yet!
D. Is Langley too far for you?
Y. No.
D. Hose entourage?
Y. Yes, if you think it would be thrilling.
Y. Dashing young men in doublets etc…

Interval.

D. Much “misunderstanding” and the usual mud slinging.
Y. Mother speaking for her son. Very weak.
D. All this petty business! Awfully amusing. Given holly shining far above the pettifogging, what?
D. Son, now speaking, parrot-like.
Y. I understand now, why we were under suspicion of being pressmen.

Drinks in the Ship to wash away the nausea. Talk. Sentimental bilge – only it wasn’t bilge. Another late return to the Red Lion.

Combat is coming, I know, but meanwhile, I am seizing as much carefree enjoyment as possible and am not being too mean with my money. Why should I be? Unhappiness is sure to come – and it will come much sooner if I deny myself the everyday pleasures.