Saturday 9th July 1938

Worked until 5 o’clock. No orders; a complaint and some money to be collected.
Eventually however I’d finished and at last Lois and I were alone, walking fast across the fields from Eastwoodbury and through Hockley Woods. Horribly, we’ve seemed far apart lately but this evening drew us close together again – the country always does. And the rain which threatened, drifted away; the air became warmer; it seemed more like a summer evening!

We had cider in the parlour of “The Bull”, Hockley. Jove! We were thirsty and the cider was sweet! I was also hungry and so had a huge hunk of bread and cheese. Then back, through the magic of the woods. There was a little spinney (with a haystack) and the path ran through it to the fields on either side. On the way out, when we were far apart, we walked through this spinney separately. On the way back, on that pathway, I held Lois’ hands tightly behind her back until she said “All right! I give in!” (A moment later I’d have released her anyhow, cos I was afraid to hurt her.) Then Lois, mischievous, solemnly said she’d thought deeply about us and wondered, was she on the right road? She could hardly look at me and I became uneasy and wondered what would come next? She glanced swiftly at me, “I’m in deadly earnest, you know!” “Oh yes” said I vaguely. Then she suddenly laughed, “Oh, I can’t keep it up!” Thank heavens, she was only pulling my leg.

Milady made me promise – how wisely – that if we ever quarrelled or something was misunderstood, we must not part, at night, unhappily. (How very sincerely I hope we never shall part in anger or unhappiness.)

It was late when we reached Oakdene but Lois invited me in for a coffee. (She makes coffee pretty efficiently.) We sat there in the kitchen, late at night, our spirits very close again.