Saturday, Oct 1st
Went out with Mary C. She was in very poor shape, physically and mentally, poor dear, and wept on my shoulder.
Ioan and Marjorie came to supper. He brought his war book in typescript and told us of his adventures on his way to Florence and back, ending up with the taxi swinging on a crane because the captain refused to allow it on his ship as he suspected it leaked petrol.
Monday, Oct 3rd
Norman Attrill came to see me today to ask me to provide more space for displaying pictures. When I pointed out that the walls were wooden anyway and could be used, he said quite seriously that the heads of the drawing pins quite often came off and they might be dangerous. Such is the affect of living with Eric! You'd hardly think we lived through the war as well!
Wednesday, Oct 5th
Set off at eight o'clock for the Sixth Form trip into prehistory. The glass had fallen and the forecast was not very good. We were able to carry out our programme of two years ago without more than a few drops of rain till we were actually on the site of Stonehenge, when it began to pour, but we had no sun.
Hilary rang up to night. He is to go to Yorkshire on Friday week for his "potential officer" training and will not have any leave before he goes, which is a pity. Nora will be in hospital anyway having her toe joint operated on for a bunion.
Sunday, Oct 9th
Had lunch early and went up to Waterloo from Reading to hear Dennis Mathews play four Beethoven sonatas at the Festival Hall - Op 7, 13 (Pathétique), 90 and 111. It was rather warm and I got very sleepy and felt it difficult to concentrate in the first half. The programme was rather long, but made it possible for you to see the wonderful development from the first two sonatas to the music of 111, which seemed, like The Tempest, to have the quality of a farewell to the instrument - "I'll drown my book deeper than ever plummet sound". You need a two minutes silence for contemplation at the end, not applause when hardly the last note had died away. It was complete in its own right.
While we were having tea Nora was overcome with emotion and wept, burying her head in her hands.
Tuesday, Oct 11th
The House Committee, I was glad to find, appeared to share my view on parent-teacher associations. Let's hope the governors agree with them. Nora went into hospital. As usual with nurses and hospitals thrown into a fury. Asked specially to be there before five o'clock, was here; bed not ready, so kept waiting for half an hour for Nora's clothes!
Friday, Oct 14th
Hilary arrived in the afternoon and evening from Cowley Barracks before moving to a potential officers course at Stensall, north of York. He looked very slim in his battle dress, bit I thought rather thin in the face and pale. He seemed to have accommodated himself well to army life, said the barracks were comfortable and the food quite reasonable. He appeared to find the N.C.O.s possible. He went down to see Nora and then purchased a bottle of Beaujolais to drink with our cold joint. As he had to get up at 5.30 to do the barrack room to the sergeant's satisfaction he was pretty sleepy. At 10.15 he was picked up by some other National Service men at the obelisk in the Marlow road and made his way back.
Sunday, Oct 16th
Mary came over for Saturday night and this morning we cooked a chicken for dinner after breakfast au francais in bed - but too narrow! In the afternoon we walked up the valley and got some very good spindle. After tea we went to bed again and only got up for soup and sardines about 8. It turned very cold.
Wednesday, Oct 19th
Took Wilk in to see Nora, but Lord! how bossy she is! Told me I should light boiler and had given Mrs Bowden, the daily, instructions to do so. Appears she is coming out on Thursday with toe in plaster.
A governors' meeting. Fearfully slow, lasted for one hour and a half. We exchanged Mrs de Pass for old Hamilton as vice chairman and a new governor, General Lambert, appeared - a man of few words, but I thought great penetration. - "You want to see what sort of chap I am, I want to see what sort of chap you are!" On going round the building, "I want to see the black spots." I got over to Mary just after 4.30. Nora had written her a letter and she had replied. They intend to meet again and it really looks ad though we may be reaching a solution.
Tuesday, Oct 20th
A letter from Hilary. Stensall is a badly organized camp, but has he a reasonable corporal and a P.T. sergeant "a wonderful instructor, the counterpart of Phyllis, very ferocious, Yorkshire, a materialist and a good solid man of integrity and common sense and nothing else!"
Went to see Nora tonight. She has got her crutches and has been out of bed. Probably come home Saturday. She was more cheerful.
Saturday, Oct 22nd
Yesterday Trafalgar Day celebration went off well, 150th anniversary. I think I can remember 110th in 1905. Ended with a passage from Charles Morgan's Introduction to Flashing Stream and Wordsworth's Happy Warrior. Had four voices, Annette, Hewlet, Shave and Rixon, the latter rather fine - reads well.
Fetched Nora from hospital. They have given her two very short crutches. Rather sorry my bachelor existence coming to an end. At any rate I can work the tidying up as I like instead of having litter everywhere! We shall soon revert to this I can see.
Sunday, Oct 23rd
Worked hard cooking dinner to which Wilk came up. Put up posters for United Nations Day tomorrow. Always Days of some sort, after Trafalgar, UNO, then Remembrance Day, then Prize Day! Soon Judgement Day!
Monday, Oct 24th
Took Hazel and Rada Barnicott to Bisham Church to show them the Hoby tombs. Rada never uttered. She has less humour than a cat - a cheerful prospect indeed.
Clear that I can't go away at half term for Nora can't be left at night and does not want Phyllis up to sleep - or Phyllis does not want to come, don't know which.
Tuesday, Oct 25th
Went to supper with Mary Clayden. How bare the house is, how bare her life! The only objects in the sitting room apart from a photograph of the boys a rosary hung on a nail over the bed and a plain wooden cross with I.N.RI. on it made by Richard or Paul at school for present to her. She was very upset, poor dear.
Thursday, Oct 27th
Mary C did not come in to prayers. Went up to my room afterwards and found her sitting in the chair speechless and trembling. Told her she must go home, see Irvine that afternoon and I would come and see her after school. Over to Oxford by 2.40. Headmasters and Director sat till five o'clock in an hermetically sealed room smoking hard, came out as usual with splitting headache. Drove straight to Mary C's. Found her in a very bad way. Irvine had refused to sign her off and told she must see a psychiatrist and had arranged for him to visit her tomorrow afternoon. She had been driving down today to her parents in Wales, but felt if she started she might drive and drive until she crashed into a wall. She said she was worthless, a woman of no value. Tried to comfort her, and persuade her to see the psychiatrist. She seemed doubtful if he would respect her confidences, pointed out that doctors, like priests, had their own standards. Promised to take her out tomorrow evening.
Friday, Oct 28th
I thought the calm and austerity of Pamber might soothe her so we drove there slowly in the clear autumn sun shine with the trees aflame and for a time she seemed to forget. On the way back we passed Aldermaston Mill so we went in and found they could give us lunch in half an hour.The wind was Arctic but the sun warm. We sat on a bench under the lee of the mill house and listened to the sound of the stream. I told her how I had once seen a kingfisher fly up the main street of Whitchurch. We got back to Reading Road about 2.30 in time for a cup of tea and I left her - "At any rate," she said, "you have prevented me running away." Couldn't go home as I had told Nora I had gone to Winchester. Went into library and museum at Reading, but it must have been half term as it was full of shouting and whistling children. I met Mary at Castle Street as usual and went out to telephone Mary C while she visited Mrs Hewitt, who is ill.
After supper I told her about Mary Clayden. She was very understanding and did not ask a lot of questions. I think she had guessed how Mary C was feeling.
Saturday, Oct 29th
I did the Saturday shopping, which is rather fun in a small community like Henley. Everyone is out and about and you are continually meeting old boys and girls or people you know and the shopkeepers are uniformly friendly and pleasant and very polite.
I took Nora for a drive up the Stonor valley down to Watlington, left along the Downs to Ewelme and back through Nettlebed. The sun shone and the trees glowed in their yellows and reds. The planet is a collector's piece in natural beauty as well as chemical elements, and when we look it from space we shall see how snug and homely it is, I guess.
Sunday, Oct 30th
A very cold raw day, wind in N.E. Painted the van roof with bituminous paint. The window frames need doing too. Listened to Schubert Trio in B flat in the morning. Nora said she had last heard it when I played it to her on a gramophone in the nursing home after our first child died in 1935, 20 years ago. I had forgotten this. Wrote to Mary and told her painting caravan gave me confidence. At any rate I felt I had a roof over my head (April - to October).
Monday, Oct 31st
Went to see Dr Hartley in the morning. Told him I felt better and he said blood pressure down and kidneys OK. Said I had a tightening of thorax going up hill and wondered if heart causing this. Said nothing to be heard on stethoscope. Will these minor symptoms and complaints make them think you verging on hypochondria!
After this took bus to Reading and had tea with Mary in Wellsteeds. She had had time to think over what I had told he on Friday and began to tease me about Mary C, which made me a bit cross. Also I had given up part of my holiday to sweat over to Reading, which I thought was not really appreciated!
There has been a fearful fuss because it was thought Princess Margaret might be going to marry a man who had divorced his wife. Now, after a reporters' carnival and orgy in the cheap press, she has decided not to. When it was said her marriage would distress pious people, old Gilbert Murray wrote to The Times and remarked: was the view of educated and liberal opinion always to be put behind that of a backward and conservative majority. Hear! hear!
November. 22s 6d a week for the National Service soldier. Oh God, Oh Henley-on-Thames!
Wednesday, Nov 2nd
This was one of our lucky days and we were very happy. I caught the 1.30 bus to Reading, bought the tickets and waited for Mary outside the station. We got to Paddington about three and went to the Royal Academy. There was a small but delightful exhibition of Portuguese art, much more interesting than the recent Dutch C18th exhibition. The two early rooms were full of lovely things, medieval statues, Romanesque capitals and pictures, including the great panels of royal family and court from St Vincent's, Lisbon. Although the 17th and 18th century painting was not particularly interesting there was a lot of variety, furniture, pottery, tapestries, rugs, photographs of churches, and so on, ending up with the enormous 17th century state coach in gold made for Queen Maria about 1670.
After tea we went to the Festival Hall to hear the new organ. We dined at the N.B.L. and caught the 9.25 without having to rush or hurry.
Friday, Nov 4th
Nora in her usual way rushed off to town after giving a blood donation and came back on the late train. There is no holding her anyway so you might as well give up trying.
Saturday, Nov 5th
Mary Clayden to come back on Tuesday. She has been reconciled with the church, which is something, and I hope she is not full up with phenobarbitone. Wondering whether to tell Nora what is the matter to avoid being continually asked round here as "good work."
Had discussion with Nora about future, although, as psychologists always are, much occupied with what happened in the past. She is willing to divorce me so that Mary and I can get married. It seems we must work in stages - Nora must get a job, I must leave before the divorce, when it is valid marry Mary, and then set about getting something to keep us going until 1959, perhaps 2 1/2 years. It is a formidable assignment for all of us.
Tuesday, Nov 8th
Con has written a most interesting letter about her house. I had asked her what it cost. Apparently she paid £500 for site, £3,300 for builder and £165 for architect - £3,965. It has all the modern labour saving gadgets and fibre glass over the ceilings to keep in the heat.
I am quite sure we could not afford £4,000.
Thursday, Nov 10th
Mary C came over to tea. She was altogether better for her stay in Wales and return to the church. Irvine told her parents she must be persuaded to go out and make friends and not keep shut up all the time. She was still taking phenobarbitone and while with me smoked four or five cigarettes. I feel I have acted very badly and unwisely. I ought to have known better from past experience. I have made things more difficult, which is wrong and inconsiderate of me.
Friday, Nov 11th
Hilary arrived on the 11 o'clock from Paddington, very hungry as he had nothing much since midday.
Saturday, Nov 12th
A social day! Phyllis to lunch and Ioan and Wilk to supper. Hilary in good form recounting his experiences in camp.
Donald Heath came up. Very much the specialist, smart suit, college tie, no neck, visible corporation! May go to America, had been to conference of heart and lung surgeons at St Andrews. Photographed with all the great. But still won't open a bank account and keeps his money at the Post Office. Very odd.
Find I have 9 wearable shirts but not as many coats and or trousers. Mary says important to make sure everything does nol wear out at the same time - feel this has a physiological application as well!
Wilk's elder sister has been badly smashed up in a car accident. She was a passenger and apparently her face went through the windscreen. At first they did not know whether sight of both eyes had gone, but one at any rate is now all right. This is the first acquaintance of ours to be involved in a road smash.
Sunday, Nov 13th
The lot of a National Service man is not easy. For the first six months all they get is 22/6 a week out of which they have to pay travelling home, cleaning materials and other sundries.
The Geneva meeting of foreign ministers, like so very many others, has come to nothing. Mr Molotoff sits there where he has sat, stone bottoming as before! The Russians have muscled in in the Middle East, supplying arms to Egypt. The Arabs, who regard Israel as a western outpost in their territory, can more easily be won over because are less politically mature. We could drop Israel to court Arab favour, or rush into the fray on Israel's side and arm her further. Better to do neither but mediate firmly between the two sides.
Some parson preaching in St Paul's said the church should be disestablished. Quite agree. The connection with the state more and more absurd, but what about the Coronation and the Queen as head of church. We are so conservative, I bet nothing will come of it, logic or not.
Victor Gollanz has started a national campaign for the abolition of the death penalty. I hope it may succeed as then the Home Secretary cannot go on saying there is no public opinion against it, which is what he does at the moment.
Tuesday, Nov 15th
Mr Barclay and Miss McEwan came down to speak on International Aid to Children. We have beaten our record of last year of £50 by a bit. I was anxious to get them off by the 4.25, but ran out of petrol when I was taking them to the station. Sir Isaac Newton got them to the Market Place and from there they had to run for it.
Hope to get rid of temporary male English teacher, Mr Franklin, at the end of term and have a temporary tough Liverpuddlian from a senior school in Reading, ex R.A.F., and used to a school where the boys wear ties with nudes and girls skin-tight jerseys.
Wednesday, Nov 23rd
Picked Mary up at the Royal Berks, where she had been to visiting Mrs Hewitt from bottom flat. After tea we went to see The Dambusters, the film of the attack on the Ruhr dams in 1943. Michael Redgrave played the part of the inventor of the bomb, Barnes Wallis. He was very good, but the Squadron Leader (Guy Gibson) was harder to bring to life. It was a sad film, but a good one for no attempt was made to over emotionalize it. The story was allowed to speak for itself and the settings were authentic. The news of the success of the attack at length came through, the exhausted survivors returned and flung themselves on their beds, the aircraft shot down were chalked as "missing", the camera traversed the empty rooms; the note left propped up against a lamp, an alarm clock wound up before the departure; the vacant tables in the mess; and Gibson was seen walking away in the distance to write letters to the relatives of those who had been killed.
Thursday, Nov 24th
Took the Sixth Form for the parish church trip as in June. It was a showery, cold and rather windy day. Although we started at 10.20 we only just got back at 4.15. They did not seem to have done much more at Ryecote and Chiselhampton was in disorder for they had just distempered the walls.... At Thame the sun broke through and lit up the lovely chancel and Swyncombe was as usual, I felt, full of the atmosphere of medieval piety. Chiselhampton and Swyncomlbe could hardly furnish a greater contrast; building materials, walls, windows, woodwork, east end, plan, fittings; C18th rationalism and illumination, medieval mysticism and darkness.
Friday, Nov 25th
Lady Helen came in to tell me all the returns that they want for the inspection. I got a lift from her to the Gloucester bus, which was like an oven. Ruth was away looking after her mother and sister, both baffy. I had Molly to myself and told her of my plans. She did not make any unfavourable comment (Diarist's later comment: That came later!). Said she had often wondered whether Nora and I would separate.
Wednesday, Nov 30th
Prize Day! Wonder if my last! Bitterly cold and foggy but did not rain at least. The usual chores carting and sorting books, chair removing, rehearsing prize winners and so on - not to mention hauling old Denham onto the stage and distributing tea. Lionel Brett, the architect, made a sensitive and unusual speech. He said he had asked three friends what he should say; the first said "Tell them life is short", the second said "Tell them not to imagine they will ever grow up" and the third said "Tell them to be themselves". He explained what he thought they meant by these answers in a charming and delightful way and then said he would read them a Chinese story which would indicate that what we think of as misfortunes in fact may turn out to be benefits.
The speech was quite short, but nemesis lay in wait for us! Tom Luker had invited old Hamilton to propose the vote of thanks and we had a typical small town speech - what he had learnt when at school, corporal punishment, lasting almost as long as the guest's itself and taking all the enjoyment out of it. Oh God! Oh Henley-on-Thames! A shocking exhibition.
Lionel Brett and his wife, plenty of mascara, had come over from Eton where they had been visiting their boy and were returning there after tea for a party at the housemaster's. I talked to Sir Felix Brunner for a bit but he was a jumpy little man with a lot of facial ticks. Well that's over. I am always glad when it is. Time has made me less nervous than I used to be, but I like them not at all.
Saturday, Dec 3rd
Went to bank, find I have £700 savings, little enough I am afraid. Hilary came home on 36 hours leave about 5 o'clock. He seemed well and bigger, too, I thought. Hilary points out that he is now a fully trained man and has had all the training the National Service men had who went out to Korea to hold back "the yellow hordes." Formidable.
December. Death of Rev: Pachyderm. Krushchev's whacking lies. Romantic Clem Clifford. Alistair Cooke on simple Christmas. First space travellers already born?
Sunday, Dec 4th
A very sunny morning - temperature 50°, cold rather runny and troublesome. Hilary goes to W.O. Selection Board together with eight others from York. He tells me he is so cynical that his nickname in the hut is Tombstone. Asked if I am considered cynical, Nora answers no, but realist and sometimes pessimistic.
Monday, Dec 5th
Mary C has asked me to go and see Hamlet with her on Saturday. Tell Nora, who asks, "Won't it encourage her?"
Wednesday, Dec 7th
Got off to early start and drove to Mortimer Common. The sky was grey and the wind soughed mournfully in the pines. Mary got to work with my secateurs and got branches for the library of catkins and fir. After supper we went to bed, but just after we had done so a gang of children erupted and started singing carols from door to door. We turned off the light so when they peered through the letter box, which they did, flat appeared dark and empty. Mary was amused, but I was annoyed that we could not even go to bed without being interrupted and disturbed! And I don't like carols anyway!
Saturday, Dec 9th
London! But why does one ever go to this most frustrating of cities! I don't know. Today a good example. Met Mary C at National Book League and had lunch in crowded, airless, uncomfortable and overheated basement. Dripped in sweat, took off pullover, still dripped. To Portuguese exhibition before and after tea. Slightly less hot. To Marble Halls; enormous queue so had to have a meal in self-service, more heat! Then the theatre, this worst of all, unbearable, almost rivalling Antony and Cleopatra in 1953. Started at 7.15, but had to come out at 10.20 before end to get to Paddington and catch 11 train. In spite of running and hurrying - bathed in sweat once more - in rabbit warren of Tubes, only just made it the journey in 40 minutes. Reflected why do I bother to put up with this discomfort as the minutes ticked by on the platform. Maidenhead train freezing cold; arrived Henley 12.30. Dirty, sticky tired and frustrated.
And Hamlet - well it was a mixed performance. Quite the worst Ophelia I had ever seen! Paul Scofield a good, simple and straightforward, uncomplicated Hamlet, Ernest Thesiger a likeable old bore, Claudius very good, the Queen poor. Nowhere near as good as Richard Burton's at the Old Vic.
Sunday, Dec 11th
Hilary returned from W.O.S.B. last night in high dudgeon. He was one of 60% not selected for commissions. He may have been too bluff and aggressive perhaps, or lost on his schools. One interviewer asked him if they had corporal punishment at either of them. He will return to Cowley and I suppose join the Oxfords in Germany. After that, rumour says, they are going to Hong Kong.
Spent part of today reading Evelyn Waugh's Campion. It is beautifully written, wish I could write prose like his. I was engaged in this because of my young ladies, Hazel and Rada. Hazel heavy but possible, Rada queer, highbrow and impossible.
Mr Krouschev has been visiting India and Burma making rude remarks about us, including not a few whacking lies, as that we egged on Hitler to attack Russia.
We are asked to pay more, 6% instead of 5%, for our superannuation - in effect a salary cut.
The N.U.T. has asked its members to refuse to collect National Savings contributions next year. The Minister, Sir David Eccles, a smooth type, says this will injure the children because their characters will suffer. I can't think of anything that is likely to injure the children less.
Tuesday, Dec 13th
Out termly staff meeting. We all sit round the tables in the library. I read out the names form by form. The romantic Clement Clifford sits on my left. He fancies himself as a penetrating observer of boy nature, but as a rule he disagrees with his colleagues. My object is to let them have their say without wasting too much time. The same individuals, queers and oddities, come up time and time again. The key lies not here but in the home. Nevertheless Clem has a romantic idea that a word from me may alter the the pattern of the young life. Alas, I have not such faith in my magic powers. An hour passes and we reach the sixth. When they are finished we emerge to the smell of Dustmo and the sound of brooms. The cleaners are at work. We depart for home.
Bad news from South Africa. Cousin Cyril, whom I have not seen since 1921, is thinking of coming home next year. I remember him with boredom as an uncouth silent individual. I do not suppose time has improved him. His family has grown up and he is separated from his wife. His business is sold and he does not seem to have any contacts with the remaining brother.
Wednesday, Dec 14th
House Music Competition, judged by Mr Pitcher from Leighton Park, who was not as good as I hoped, not as free with constructive criticism, though I had no fault with his marking. I pride myself with my packing the natives in, but this year with 25 more, I really thought I was beaten. We just made it.
Periam House have carried the cup off for the last three years and won it 10 times, Hambleden 6 and the unfortunate Valpy only 5, the last in 1944! It was very enjoyable this year because it was so varied. A "gentleman's choir" sang Blow The Man Down, a boy sang Art thou troubled, Music will calm thee very sweetly, and we had Rixon on the clarinet and the saxophone, and little Rachel Mathews playing the cello. Also a native sang Silent Night, pronounced soilent noight.
When Brind and Mr Pitcher were over for lunch I learnt that "the Canon" had died on Sunday. At Mary's I found an obituary in The Times. He appeared from our experience quite unrecognisable - "wise, patient, inspiring, innate gift for handling boys, outstanding and selfless service, Christian forthrightness, made the parish church a place of worship and his home a centre of hospitality for oarsmen" (he let in Regatta!) and so on. Perhaps Tom Wheeler, who was cleaning out an old oil stove on the backdoor step, was nearer the mark when he said, "Nobody liked them in Henley."
Thursday, Dec 15th
A rather irritating day. The Curate had gone to the Canon's funeral so I sat with one of his forms. They seemed a bit thin on the ground. Later football appeared to be going on next door. There I found three papists and four boys the Curate had turned out for the term without a word to anyone. Later I had to intervene where Mr Franklin was being shouted down. At lunch footballs were being kicked around to the great peril of the gym windows.
Mary Clayden came over to tea, which was nice, and she showed me a charming picture of herself and her two boys at her sister's wedding.
Donald Heath has landed a lecturership in pathology at Birmingham. He was a man of destiny after all.
See there has been "an irreverent incident" in Warrington. The Wise Men were shown offering a washing machine, a refrigerator and an electric cooker, to the great scandal of the faithful.
Saturday, Dec 17th
Hilary arrived back from Cowley on leave for Christmas in time for the Prefects' Party. I went over for the first bit of the tea. As often, people had not replied to invitations and there were a number of vacant places and far too much food. Afterwards they did The Dear Departed, a favourite with them, played games and danced. I went back later, but contrary to usual practice they finished early and I missed Auld Lang Syne. I never did like parties and as I get older like them less and less.
It was very hot and the dancers raised a fine dust. Through the noise of the dance music one endeavoured to talk to visitors by shouting and trying to catch, without success, what they bawled in reply. It was most exhausting and at the end one was not sure whether Miss Timms was going to the Seychelles or the Windward Islands.
Monday, Dec 19th
The carols started this week. Juniors today, Seniors tomorrow, Town Hall Wednesday. I think I must have been taken perforce to carol services by Father because they are now one of the forms of music that don't attract me at all, especially While Shepherds Watched and Good King W.
Wednesday, Dec 21st
Bad day at Black Rock. All went off well in the morning. I read the sixth the account of Charles' escape after Worcester, which they enjoyed. When however I came in from Lunch I found the Wilk in my room. She thought I ought to know there had been an outbreak in the hall during dinner. Mrs Clayden had offered to take it for her and she had refused. I could not get from her what tables had been the cause of it. It was like wading through glue. Clem had gone home ill, Mrs C had driven a girl home. I was very cross anyway, refused to go round those forms and wish them a happy Christmas, had them in the hall and told them they spoilt everything. But in between all this I had to be charming to my own form and the junior forms. What a curse! what a waste of time!
Mary C to tea, gave her a nice dark-green glass bowl from Italy. Carols at Town Hall with town band; hair nearly blasted off!
Thursday, Dec 22nd
Took Mary C to lunch at the George at Dorchester. After lunch we went over the Abbey, cold and mothy as usual, and then looked in the tiny R.C. church. Mary said the priests are allowed £65 per annum. Back by Little Wittenham and climbing the clumps. It was nice and lonely and remote on top and we walked round the edge of the wood and sheltered against a large trunk against the cold.
Friday, Dec 23rd
Had a note from Mary C asking me if I would go to Midnight Mass at which her two boys were serving, in her friend "Jackie's" chapel (She had already told me she was having a Mass said for me on Christmas Day - certainly one of the most unusual presents I have had). What would be Nora's or Hilary's comments if I suddenly went off to Midnight Mass in a Roman Catholic chapel I can't imagine - besides I should have thought having me there would be a fearful distraction and awkward all round.
To the flat with a half bottle of Beaujolais which we drank with our dried haddock and mashed potatoes. It was potent. I felt so sleepy after that Mary opened the window and we put our heads out to see Orion hung low in the winter sky. We slipped off our clothes and Mary out on her pyjama top and we got into bed. We were close and talked of the year we had had and Mary C and being faithful in love; it was long and leisurely, lovely and wonderful, and as always new and renewing.
Christmas Eve
The weather was dull and drizzly. Read the memoirs of Lord Curzon's wife published 30 years after his death. George was not such a pompous bore as he was made out to be, but a very sensitive and emotional man under his enamelled exterior. Also reading Hoskins book on the making of the English landscape, which is most interesting.
Alistair Cooke in New York observes in today's Guardian "No city has ever sold so many electric railroads, model jets, more diamond tiaras, caviare, sables, minks and Cadillacs, and all the things that make Christmas so simple and poignant a festival.
Christmas Day, Sunday
A lovely morning! I opened my bedroom window and looked up the valley. It was sunny and everything was full of colour - the icegreen of the frost on the grass, the dark firs, the deep chocolate of the plough, a brilliant white sun just over the horizon shining up the valley to the west on the reddish bud-covered tops of the oaks, limes and sycamores, and immediately below me the brown bents of summer's hay.
After we had had breakfast, opened presents, numerous for Nora and Hilary, few for me, and done our household chores, Hilary and I went for a walk up the valley.
We had our dinner about half past one, soup, chicken, sprouts, two kinds of potatoes, Plum Pudding, Brandy Butter and a bottle of Beaujolais - and got cleared away in time for the Queen's speech. This year the Commonwealth survey was rather more imaginative. Influenced by the new cosmogony they went to see the radio telescopes and journeyed round in space. The first explorers to visit the moon, we were told, had perhaps already been born.
We spent most of the rest of the day reading and listening to the wireless. Ended with a bath and a good scrub with what I call a loofa and Mary calls a loofah.
Boxing Day, Monday
A rough, windy, mild night and driving rain. Nora went down to the Market Place to help Phyllis with the children while the Danish help, Mr Owdry and the Danish boy Knud came up for tea. Mr Owdry was a Nigerian gentleman studying local administration at Torquay. He first appeared in full native dress when she was at Empshott Lodge and had now invited himself for Christmas, this time in very ill-fitting grey flannels. He had nothing to say, so I took him round the school. I had no torch so the only thing visible was the whites of his eyes.
Tuesday, Dec 27th
A letter by post from Mary C. Went over to the school to get privacy to reply. We were asked down to Phyllis for drinks before lunch. present Mr and Mrs Oxby, Professor and Mrs Weiss, Mr and Mrs Slesser, Mr Owdry, Mrs McBurnie, Jimmie and Johnnie, Nora, Hilary and self and Danish help, 12 adults. Mr Owdry was asked to stay for one night, but shows no sign of departing despite broad hints. Eve said when her mother gave her hip measurements for a corset they wrote back and said there must be some mistake. Mrs Oxby said a friend of hers weighing 14 stone put a penny in a weighing machine, which ejected a card printed "one at a time please".
Fascinated by Phyllis' eyes, which appeared glazed with contracted pupils! Hilary said she had probably taken dope to put her to sleep and more dope to wake her up. Hilary gave a party to the Danes, Canute and three nannies.
Thursday, Dec 29th
To see Aunt. It was a cold day, but she insisted on being taken to see Rusby at the old people's home. She emerged in her dressing gown and sat in the car with Aunt. Aunt's mind pretty good for 95, but her eyes are getting rather bad. She remarked on how thin Nora looked.
Donald Heath came up for coffee. He is becoming steadily more S shaped, round shouldered at the top and pot bellied at the bottom. We started talking about work and society. He disapproved of Ioan's bummery, but as Nora said to meet Ioan is refreshment for the spirit, not so to meet Donald! Hilary volunteered that it is possible to lead a vagrant life fruit picking by moving from the currants in Turkey to the oranges in Spain.
Friday, Dec 30th
N and Hilary up to London to lunch in the Strand, with Ken and Rita. Mary C came up to early lunch and I took her a long walk from Whitchurch to Gatehampton.
Saturday, Dec 31st
Nora has been very gloomy, silent and depressed these holidays in spite of "social life" . Myself I don't fancy social life for itself. I like meeting people in ones or twos, but parties as parties, working off people because you ought to, not because you have interests in common, seems to me a waste of one's time, and life is short enough anyway without passing a part of it in boredom or discomfort.
I must have adopted this view early in life for in those days parties meant changing from your old comfortable clothes and putting on new and uncomfortable ones. I hated doing this. I remember being taken to two children's parties at Shillingford; at the first one our hosts were only interested in ponies, at the second they were only interested in golf. I was interested in neither!
Went over to tea with Mary at Wellsteeds and we had a good laugh, my first for some days! I had not seen her for a week and thought how lovely she was.
1955 is over. In world affairs rather disappointing. The Russians seemed to have adopted a more friendly and conciliatory attitude in the spring and summer. Then they suddenly altered their tactics. They intervened in the Middle East, offered arms, economic and technical aid to the Arab states, notably Egypt. The temperature between Jews and Arabs immediately went rocketing up. Then at Geneva in October they refused to negotiate on Germany. They talked peace, but refused to budge an inch. In the autumn they made further attempts to worsen relations between India and Pakistan and stir up feeling between the West and India.
Hilary, still without his Latin, has gone into the army. He is now a boy no longer, but I wish he took a bit more trouble to please and make himself agreeable.
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