Sunday
Had a curious and unpleasant dream this morning. I seemed to be dozing in the Oven, and heard footsteps hurrying across the bridge, then somebody rattling and banging on the Castle doors, crying out weakly for help. Then there seemed to be the crash of a tremendous bomb, and I woke up, sweating, but all was silent. A few moments later the Town Hall struck 5.
Dozed off again, and woke when the watchman went out at 7. Ate some dry bread, all I had by me, and left at 9.
Dull morning, overcast. Had a bath, and went off at midday to Lawford. After lunch took Robin for a run for the first time for 3 weeks. He went well, and was no trouble, but got hot. Strawed his yard and box.
Mrs. General Parrington came to tea with her children. She had a story about a Flight Commander, known to her, who was a DFC and had been in the RAF for some years. He took a gallon of petrol to go to see his wife, was caught and dismissed the service.
Writing all evening.
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