Sunday 13th November 1938
Mrs Ife brought a tray of tea. To my satisfaction, she left it all outside my door. So I slipped into the bathroom, cleaned my teeth and threw some water over my head to waken myself. Then I tapped on the door of Milady’s room, received no answer, went in with the tray and knelt down by the bed. As I gently moved the coverlet from her head (Yes! She’d burrowed underneath!) her eyes flickered quietly, happily open.
Downstairs, our muddy shoes had been cleaned and polished. We had a jolly good breakfast. We told Mrs Ife how, when we first came, we’d only just started “courting”. The second time we’d just become engaged – Now we were quite a veteran engaged couple, and “Maybe next time we’ll be married!”
Sunshine when we took the road. We tramped along the Pilgrims Way until great trees towered above on a steep hillside. So we climbed up among them. Red copper-beech leaves like a carpet. We stayed there a long time, whilst cyclists and walkers, unobservant, passed just beneath, along a path in a deep cutting. When we went on again, Angel had a great bunch of red spindle berries fastened in her rucksack flap.
We had a pot of tea, with our sandwiches at the little cottage, “Rosedene” where we had tea last night. A quiet voiced young man was there, whom we’d passed earlier, along the Pilgrims Way. Seemed lonely; we discussed ramble routes with him. He was planning a ramble for a London Club.
We became more or less involved in some woods near Cobham. Eventually I climbed to a tree top and called down my vision to Angel below, who had the map. I was the “eyes” Angel was the “brain”! And the humorous thing was that our path was only twenty paces distant!
A good wash and tea, at “The Leather Bottle”, Cobham. Walked to Gravesend then, feeling pleasantly tired – and sleepy! It had been raining since dusk but only a light, wind driven, exhilarating drizzle.
Train to Westcliff. (Back again, damn it!) The B and AV was ready. The weekend had brought us ever so much closer, in the way that husband and wife, or very old friends are close. No shyness between, now.
Downstairs, our muddy shoes had been cleaned and polished. We had a jolly good breakfast. We told Mrs Ife how, when we first came, we’d only just started “courting”. The second time we’d just become engaged – Now we were quite a veteran engaged couple, and “Maybe next time we’ll be married!”
Sunshine when we took the road. We tramped along the Pilgrims Way until great trees towered above on a steep hillside. So we climbed up among them. Red copper-beech leaves like a carpet. We stayed there a long time, whilst cyclists and walkers, unobservant, passed just beneath, along a path in a deep cutting. When we went on again, Angel had a great bunch of red spindle berries fastened in her rucksack flap.
We had a pot of tea, with our sandwiches at the little cottage, “Rosedene” where we had tea last night. A quiet voiced young man was there, whom we’d passed earlier, along the Pilgrims Way. Seemed lonely; we discussed ramble routes with him. He was planning a ramble for a London Club.
We became more or less involved in some woods near Cobham. Eventually I climbed to a tree top and called down my vision to Angel below, who had the map. I was the “eyes” Angel was the “brain”! And the humorous thing was that our path was only twenty paces distant!
A good wash and tea, at “The Leather Bottle”, Cobham. Walked to Gravesend then, feeling pleasantly tired – and sleepy! It had been raining since dusk but only a light, wind driven, exhilarating drizzle.
Train to Westcliff. (Back again, damn it!) The B and AV was ready. The weekend had brought us ever so much closer, in the way that husband and wife, or very old friends are close. No shyness between, now.
posted by Paul Wilson at 8:21 pm
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