Friday
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.
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