Saturday
Glorious cool morning, not a
cloud in the sky. Daffodils blowing in
the garden, and the plum trees in blossom. The garden is looking wonderfully
well, and dear old Uncle Jim still works in it.
The primroses are out by the nut-tree bower where I played as a child.
“Liberators” were going over very
early, and there was the sound of gunfire in the distance – probably somebody
shooting at flying-bombs. Marjorie says
there has been a ‘diver’ near Cox’s Green, which did a certain amount of
damage, this must have travelled about 250 miles.
Sat in the garden reading “The
New Statesman”. Left at 12 for
Maidenhead, Marjorie to come over later. Hedges
in bloom, and the hawthorn out. Two or
three biplanes were flying very low from Waltham ,
and in front of them, at a great height, a big flight of Forts going out, on
their way to bomb a few thousand more civilians. Saw the little Queen Anne Cottage, where I
once wanted to live, and Shottesbroke
Church
Bought a lamp-battery at White
Waltham, the shopkeeper looking at me very suspiciously, perhaps wondering if I
were a deserter or a spy. At Cox Green
saw the trains roaring down to the West.
Great longing for Wales .
Delightful lunch at Aunt’s. Gave her a week’s meat coupon.
This afternoon cycled down to the
Library for an hour. Found “The London Topographical
Record”. Very well done. Should like to see something of this sort for
Colchester .
Streets crowded with Saturday
shoppers. Saw Spindler’s, Alexander’s,
and the Rialto Café, and thought of Mother going there in the mornings for
coffee, sitting at the window to watch the crowds go by, just such crowds as
were there this afternoon.
Back for tea. Marjorie came, and we had a jolly party. News on the radio that the Allies are over
the Rhine, but Aunt still pessimistic. Said
there was an alarm this morning when I heard the guns.
Marjorie went back on the bus, and I
took Jocelyn [Eric's cousin] to the cinema. Always a
pleasure to take her out. Saw “Waterloo Road ”,
very well done indeed. Came back in the
grey dusk, under a pale watery moon.
Glass going back. If the weather
breaks, the new offensive will fail.
At supper, talk about what has
been happening in the war, local excitements and so on – Queen Wilhelmina has
been living at Stubbings, going out onto the Thicket to paint. Some time ago a ‘diver’ fell near the house
and killed a guard, but the Queen was not at home at the time. Doolittle’s HQ is near Marlow, and the whole
district is thick with Americans.
Bed in Maitland’s old room at 11.30, a
dark wet night. Lay reading until nearly
2am.
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