Thursday 21st April 1938

Very cold today. Frightfully snug in Mr Fisher’s office at Wrights Ltd. We sat very peacefully, smoked cigarettes and had some tea bought in by the clerk. The differences and vague points which had arisen were easily and amicably settled in such an atmosphere.

Home late. Worked until 10 o’clock, then gave Nancy a lift back to Westcliff and casually invited Iris to come also. After leaving Nancy we went to Southend and posted my letter; returned to Eastwoodbury, drove Zephyr down the dark lane which I use as a garage, and stopped. We did not get out but just sat and talked whilst I lit my pipe. Although I have not written much about it, Iris and I have had many long talks during the last week. Late at night in the sitting room, when the others had gone to bed. About our dreams, ambitions, ideals, love, life and other dangerous subjects. At last I said “Propinquity has done it’s deadly work; you attract me very much. What about you?” After a long time she said coldly, “I guess it’s tit for tat, then”. And a long time afterwards I said, “I want to kiss you and yet it seems wrong. Why? What shall we do?” And later she said calmly, “If we give way to this, we shall both get out of this car feeling quite different, you know.”

But we did give way. And for the last time, I suddenly kissed her again as we walked back along the lane to Roedean. My arms went around her, underneath her coat as it fell open; I kissed her eyes and her mouth. She leaned back, back, back in my arms.
The house was in darkness. We crept in guiltily, secretly. It was half-past twelve.
We made cocoa, had supper alone, beside the grey ashes of the fire. And talked, as before. Went to bed, 2 o’clock.