Saturday
Wakened by Father at 5, and heard
it raining hard, which made me selfishly glad.
Father was trying to say something but could not, and he struggled so hard
to get it out that I was frightened he would make himself ill. [Rudsdale's father had suffered a slight stroke in 1936 which affected his speech] Later he said “Where are we?” I said “In the middle bedroom you old
silly”. He must have been dreaming.
Got up at 7.30, pouring rain,
dark and cold. Mother sleeping,
breathing easily. Is she really sleeping or is she getting
weaker? Called in at 12, just as District Nurse arrived. Mother lay, quiet, breathing
gently, with her eyes not quite shut. I
believe she is unconscious, not asleep.
Called again at 2.30, and found
her being fed, and apparently no worse.
This afternoon called on Sissons, and told Mrs Sisson all my troubles. She was most sympathetic and will try to
help. Her cat has been poisoned, it is
thought through picking up War Agricultural Committee rat poison.
Thousands of cats have been killed in this way, by sheer wicked
carelessness.
Went on to Higham, in bright
moonlight. Very cold. Did not stay long. On the way back there was an alarm as I
reached Mile End Hall chase. I
panicked. I cut through the path to St John’s Road , and
went down to Parson’s Heath. One or two
planes came in from the east, one showing lights, but in spite of this guns
from Wivenhoe fired at it.
Went to the phone box by the Royal Oak , and tried to
phone the Rallings, but their number was engaged.
I was at once filled with the fear that they were phoning the doctor
because Mother was worse. More planes
came in, and there was a lot more firing, but no bombs dropped. My teeth were chattering. Then I went back along to Severalls Lane , and so right down to North
Station. The All Clear went as I went
along Turner Road . At the station I again tried to phone
Rallings, but the number was still engaged.
This put me in such a state that I cared for nothing but to get home,
and even another alarm as I went down Botolph’s Street – no further tremors. As the sirens died down a plane dived down
low across the town. I didn’t dare go
home, so I went to Rallings. The reason
why I could not reach them on the phone was that a neighbour had been using it
for half an hour. I said “How is
she?” Both the Miss Rallings looked sad,
and Mary said “The Doctor says there’s no hope.
He says 3 or 4 days.” I felt
horribly depressed. Poor darling little
Mother.
She was asleep when I went in,
and had taken no notice of the alarms.
We all sat up until the all clear, which was not until half past
one. Father looked very tired.
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