Thick white frost this morning. Got a lift in by the Horticultural van. Put in a full day, and worked late. Folkard furious because Nott has calmly gone away for the day, without telling anyone, and entirely neglecting the wages.
Suddenly realised, as I was packing up tonight, that I have nowhere to go to lunch tomorrow except up town. Never again shall I hear Mother say “Come along, you are late of a Saturday.”
Went into the house today. Cold and dreary, with a damp mouldy smell. Mother’s hat is still on the hall chair, where she put it that Wednesday morning, ready to go shopping, but she never went.
Cold and a little misty tonight. No light at Higham, but the stars twinkling, and a few meteors falling and fading away.
Quite a good piece in the paper tonight about Mother’s funeral.
About 9 a lot of planes began to come back, the Raydon light signalling. Most of the German radio stations were very dim, then about half past 10 the English stations faded in their turn. So we go on.