Sunday 29th May 1938

Sunny morning, although it was not very warm. Took Pat for a stroll along the Leam and to Puddle Farm (which is gradually becoming a ruin). We slipped, crossing the derelict dam – everything seems derelict at Wolfhampcote – and Pat put one foot in the water. We sat in the sun and I rubbed the foot until it was dry again. She told me bits about the new boyfriend – Herbert by name – and had apparently been comparing us. I don’t think she’s particularly attracted to him. He’s just a boy friend and it’s good fun and an interesting experience. That is the crux of the whole thing. I awakened her. That is the most I did.

Left at 5 o’clock, after a trip to Rugby with Aunt. (Told Aunt that Pat and myself were just friends now. She wasn’t surprised! She knew that would be all it came to! “A sweet girl, but not your type, dear.”) Rain began again, soon after we reached the main road at Braunston. We sang as the miles slipped by. Soon we were at Dunstable, and it was still raining. Traffic thickened. We pulled into a wayside café park; had cups of tea in the car and ate sandwiches packed by Aunt. Then the Battered and Ancient Vehicle droned on through Barnet to the North Circular and at last turned eastwards. Rain drenched pedestrians but we were dry and warm. The windscreen wiper clicked steadily. Pat and I did not talk much.

Only one car passed us (overtaking) from Romford to Southend. 9:20 p.m. Four and a half hours from Wolfhampcote.