Saturday 29th July 1939

Jacko and George and I went to Southend, by the courtesy of Captain Slinky B.

Oh! We went to a flicks, and had supper at Sam Isaac’s and smiled at a waitress with naughty eyes who admitted she chewed spearmint. Yet the evening commenced at midnight when the three of us sat on stone steps on the Esplanade, looking seawards. Even George was quiet. The waves lapped gently higher and two steps, dry at first, became covered with the salty water. The moon was at the full. Symphony.

“The tide is rising; I wonder if the tide of our life is rising like that. It would be nice to think the ebb had not begun yet”. “I think we are still beyond the farthest wave. Only the spray has touched us yet”.

Quiet drive through the moonlight. George left us at 2 o’clock. Reached Jacko’s street. He and I sat there, smoking pipe after pipe, until the stars had faded and the moon had gone. When we had discussed and settled all the important things I drove alone to Stock. Did not even need sidelights; it was dawn. Birds fluttered beside the car, as I crossed the Common.