Woke to find a lovely thick fog. Another huge convoy on the road this morning. Went out to see the Income Tax people this morning, and fear I may have to pay them over £30. Had a haircut. As I was going round Headgate Corner, saw Peta Buck, with her little boy, rather plump now. She must be over 30. Always admired her when I was at school, yet never spoke to her. Thought of Rose when I went by the “Wishbone” against the very doorway where she first kissed me one summer night seven years ago.
Culley, Pest officer, tells me that there are a pair of peregrine falcons at Rockingham Farm, Layer Marney.
This evening went with Poulter to see alleged bomb damage to the Roman Wall in Dale’s Yard, Priory St. An incendiary bomb fell just behind it, damaging a tin shed, and about a bushel of loose stone has fallen, but whether on account of the incendiary or not is rather doubtful. Poulter tells me that O’Neill [from the Office of Works] is coming next week to see various things about the town.
Lovely evening. Haze coming up. Duncan Clark says that the old garden-house [in Castle Park] is to be saved after all, but that the Borough-Engineer estimates that it will cost £100 to repair it. Perhaps £20 would be near the mark. Poulter annoyed because Hull had gone away and left the light burning in the Castle. He showed me a letter just received from Mr Timperley, at Merton Park, saying that 500 people were killed there and a thousand injured in the last four raids, and much worse at Battersea and Chelsea. Yet the official figure gives only 960 for the whole country for a month.
Cycled back slowly to Talbooth for my last night there. Felt nervous at the prospect of another move, and long to get away. Each evening I feel dreadful.