Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Tuesday 17th August 1937

Again I came home without any orders. Again little Eastwoodbury saved the day from being utterly sterile. The new Vicarage job, this time. £2 for Piccadilly H.G.

Bought myself a new hat in Southend – at Dunn’s. 15/-. A doggy nigger brown. Ready for the winter! I walked back from Kent Elms Corner, where I’d had supper at a pleasant café. I wore the old jacket, grey bags, comfortable old shoes, and an ancient hat. In my pockets were three packets of cigarettes and two boxes of matches. The pockets bulged, but because the jacket was old, this did not matter.
I swung a stick in my right hand. Under my left arm was a book (“Who once eats out of the tin bowl”.) which I had been reading in the café.

The winding road into Eastwoodbury was dark and quiet. The moon showed through clouds, southwards; it was nearly at the full. Presently, as I strolled along, four aeroplanes flew in a wide sweep above me. Their lights in perfect alignment, the disappeared in the south-east.


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