Saturday 10th September 1938

This afternoon, Lois and I went to Hadleigh and left the B and AV in a garage there.(It’s hardly safe to leave it in the open now, with no window.) Walked through the woods, following the almost non-existent path through the bushes that Joan Yeaxlee showed us last month. We found it; wandered lazily to Rayleigh and had tea in a café there. (“Hitler Climbs Down” “British Fleet Movements” “Goering Sneers at Britain”) Telling each other stories, discussing marriage (“when” and “how”) we walked back to Hadleigh and B and AV.

Drove to Stanbridge, left the car in a field (bright moonlight) and went into a wood. Lois showed me a quaint hideout she’d discovered. A cosy bivouac in the woods, obviously the home of someone. A tramp, a solitary gypsy, a homeless farm worker? Hat, jacket, candle in a glass jar, knife and fork … feeling guilty we didn’t explore further.

Draught cider at a homely little pub – The Royal Oak. We had to leave hastily so as to get back to Oakdene before eleven o’clock. Perfectly ridiculous. Lois is 31, yet her parents insist on her being home not later than eleven o’clock each night. If she was only 17 and was out with some boy she’d met at the corner of he street, one could understand. However, as she is a fully grown woman and as they know we are engaged and have met my parents, it is utterly fatuous and narrow minded. They wonder “what the neighbours will think, a girl coming home late at night, with a young man” and besides, where have we been and what were we doing? How nauseating!

Yet – I love her. I do love her. More and more. It gradually deepens, instead of fading away. Unusual!