Thursday 7th April 1938
An order from Wrights Ltd. this morning. Then – it was sunny and warm – I explored new and very beautiful country around Halstead and the Colnes. Two orders – new accounts – which I sent into Wrights. Got myself in a filthy mess with Undercoat Paste. Arrived home 6 o’clock. (Collecting an account en-route) and have been writing ever since. (It is now 8:30)
Among the several letters to be answered was one from Pat:-
“Many thanks for your letter. I’m afraid I can’t answer it here, because I’d rather see you. If you are doing nothing on Friday evening perhaps you would call for me and then we could talk it over. I do hope you will be able to manage this.” So I wrote back and arranged not to call for her, but to meet her on the foul piece of waste land opposite her home, between 8:30 and 8:45p.m. tomorrow.
Having written the foregoing, I motored into Southend, to post my letters. Then – instinct superseded reason. I parked the car in a side street off Victoria Avenue and sat there smoking my pipe. Presently, as I expected, Pat walked by. “Hullo, Stephen” she said as I reached her. We drove to the foul piece of waste ground – just 23 hours earlier than intended – and sat talking. Bitterly upbraiding each other at first; the drifting apart was just the result of careless words and gestures from both which had meant nothing.
After an hour or so we became a little happier and by 11 o’clock our mutual unpleasantness was spent. So we then agreed to carry on, as before. And that was that.
Among the several letters to be answered was one from Pat:-
“Many thanks for your letter. I’m afraid I can’t answer it here, because I’d rather see you. If you are doing nothing on Friday evening perhaps you would call for me and then we could talk it over. I do hope you will be able to manage this.” So I wrote back and arranged not to call for her, but to meet her on the foul piece of waste land opposite her home, between 8:30 and 8:45p.m. tomorrow.
Having written the foregoing, I motored into Southend, to post my letters. Then – instinct superseded reason. I parked the car in a side street off Victoria Avenue and sat there smoking my pipe. Presently, as I expected, Pat walked by. “Hullo, Stephen” she said as I reached her. We drove to the foul piece of waste ground – just 23 hours earlier than intended – and sat talking. Bitterly upbraiding each other at first; the drifting apart was just the result of careless words and gestures from both which had meant nothing.
After an hour or so we became a little happier and by 11 o’clock our mutual unpleasantness was spent. So we then agreed to carry on, as before. And that was that.
posted by Paul Wilson at 12:30 pm
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