Wakened tonight by droning planes. Looked out – brilliant glittery stars, searchlights, a few planes, some of them night fighters. No sound of bombs or firing. Heard All Clears in a few minutes. Lay reading to compose myself.
Glorious sunny morning. Lay till 10.30, heard the Conran’s packing up to go to
Portsmouth. Away they went, with two heavily laden cycles
at 12 en route for Ardleigh station, little Susan perched in basket. Poor little Jacquie, she does not want to go. Hope they have no terrible attacks down
there. She is secretly terrified.
Listened to 1 o’clock news – raid last night on
Munich. A few planes over here, but no
casualties. This afternoon went to Sherbourne Mill,
to drive new Arab. Went well after
initial jibbing on hill. Lovely animal. Had tea at Mill and Parry very affable. On way back called at Sissons. Talked 2 hours. Worried about Molly Blomfield. She is getting nothing done. Mrs. Sisson promised to have tea with her. She (Mrs S) has recently interviewed a boy of
5 whose only interest is antiques. His
mother regards him as feeble minded.
Thought of myself at that age.
Perhaps he is the Curator of Colchester Museum in 1980. (Mrs Sisson was a Family Liaison Officer).
Back to lonely cottage. Fog coming up. Stars glittering, smell of frost. About midnight, while I was listening on radio to German station, heard distant rumble of guns, and a few planes flying about. This ancient cottage is terribly lonely, but I like it, only me and the little grey cat, listening to radio.