Up rather late, after 9 hours continuous deep sleep, without a dream. Cloudy and warm. Busy morning, many visitors. Went on the market to see various people this afternoon. An alarm as I was walking past the post office at 3 o’clock. Cycled round to Clark’s Meadow, and heard the thing thumping away to the NW, above the clouds. A dull, distant crash, and ‘all clear’.
Suddenly thought to buy some flowers for Molly Blomfield, put them on the seat of her car which was standing in Sir Isaac’s Walk. Shortly after ran into Ald. Sam Blomfield, and talked about the Museum and Poulter. He promised to speak to Poulter, and see what could be done.
Went round to the Library to see newspapers, and when coming out looked into the old graveyard of St Runwald’s, and saw the tombstones of so many of our leading citizens.
Cycled out through Boxted to Higham. Saw the damage to the cottage and the Post Office caused by the flying bomb on Wednesday evening. Not very serious, mostly broken windows.
At Higham Jacquie was running about the garden with Susan her little dog, her hair flying loose, looking wonderfully well and happy. Told her I hoped to go to Scotland if I get some leave next month, so she wrote a letter to some very good friends of hers, called Biggam, saying I will call on them. Stayed talking until nearly midnight. Tremendous firing at 9 o’clock and again just before 12, but a long way off.
Went to the Post, by way of the Marsh Lane and Langham Waterworks. Got in at 10 to 1. Dull watch. No ‘divers’ and only two ‘planes over the whole night. Stars twinkling through the thin haze. Deep silence but for the sleepy chirp of birds. Several hours talk on the Nature of God.