Saturday 18th January 1936

Harris had a mornings leave. I reached the works by 8 o’clock. Dark, drear, snowing hard. All went well. One after another, the lorries of Goodall, White and Croucher moved off into the thick snowflakes.

Various little odd jobs in the afternoon; a haircut, bought some razor blades, cleaned my shoes, had a look through my letter clip, wrote up this diary. Tomorrow I’m going up to town to see the people.

A note has just come from Young, to say that he’ll be calling in the afternoon. That means a ride to Windsor for me tonight.

Have just got back from Windsor. Went through the Park, came home via the lower road. In the Park, the snow was almost unspoilt; I struggled along, trying to follow the tracks of a car. The cycle lurched from side to side. It reminded me of a toboggan run. A clear, warm night on the way out; cold and foggy returning.

This is the end of Twilight – much overdue.