Sunday
Unpleasant dream in the early
morning in which Joy Parrington, Molly Blomfield and myself were all being
machine-gunned from the air, somewhere out in fields where there was no
cover. Still
no further divers anywhere in the country.
Can this be the end?
Gorgeous day, spent the morning
writing and got a good deal done. People
riding and driving ponies and horses along Clarkson Avenue all the morning.
Very nice lunch, and while eating
it listened to a programme on the radio from Caernarvonshire – not very good,
but a delight to hear once again the lovely Welsh voices. Mr Benison remarked “Curious how some people
still speak with an accent, isn’t it?” blissfully unaware that his
Middlesborough background showed every time he opened his mouth.
Writing letters, then to
post. Came back by Queen’s Road, and
outside the school saw two Army staff cars, an army lorry and two or three
civilian cars standing outside. Wonder
what’s up.
Had a look round the old cemetery
at the North End. The chapel was built
in 1848, and the gravestones begin about the same time. The break in tradition compared with the 18th
and early 19th century stones in the churchyards is very
striking. Most of the designs here are
absolutely hideous, with bad vulgar lettering, but we must get out a corpus of them, as they are decaying
fast. One grave has a most peculiar
cast-iron canopy over it, apparently derived from the mediaeval iron “herse”,
now apparently falling into powdered rust.
On one stone noticed the name “Kerhannappugh (Kate) Ollard”. There are several odd names in the town –
Favarque, T. Tong, and a butcher called Goodby.
There used to be a butcher called Hardmeat!!
This evening to the Levers’ in Sandringham Avenue . Spent a very pleasant evening, talking about the
museum, school work and so forth. Miss
Quayle called to say goodbye, as she is leaving the town on Tuesday. We talked about Wisbech scandal with great
enjoyment. It seems that Ollard, as ARP
Controller, frequently comes on duty drunk, and bringing with him a loaded
revolver. He had a theory that if bombs
fall in Wisbech, the populace would mob the Report Centre, and he proposed to
defend the place to the end. On one
occasion he made a most offensive speech to the ladies who voluntarily serve at
the Report Centre, ending with “The trouble with you women is you want a
man!”
Came away at 10.30, into
brilliant starlight, with a great mass of searchlights to the north, lighting
up a little fluttering silver ‘plane.
Apparently another night exercise was on.
Saw Miss Quayle home to Norwich Road , and
then back to my own room, writing until past midnight. Back very painful today.
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