Sunday
Wakened in a grey rainy dawn by
the sound of many planes, flying high
above the wet clouds – the Americans going out again, unusually early. Never known them to go out in rain before. Slept again, and at last got up at 10 to bath
and breakfast.
Settled down to writing. Should have gone over to Joy’s this
afternoon, but left it too late. Pity as
the rain had cleared, and it was fine and sunny. I have a strange reluctance to move away from
my little house. I would cheerfully sit
here day after day with the little cat, writing, reading, drinking tea, seeing
no-one, hearing only the voices on the radio.
(Listened to Radio Calais and the BBC today, but no mention of Americans
going out this morning). Tonight clear and starlight,
a few planes about going out. Searchlights
practice about 8.
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