Thursday 6 July

Oh diary! I have been looking forward all day to this moment.

Diary, I can tell you that this was the best day of my life, even better than the day I got my Grade 3 Piano. I am in love!

But I must try and control my passionate thoughts and place events in sequence.

It was like this.

I was walking to school this morning, thinking of nothing in particular, when a girl on a bicycle passed me, her bloomers or something flying in the wind like unto the wings of angels. She stopped, with a squeal of badly adjusted brakes, and turned. “Why, it is Barry!”

I said the first thing that came into my head: “Oh Rachel...”

I was going to continue “...(or Brenda)” but she put her finger to my lips to hush me:

“And you remember my name!”

“Barry”, she said, “that was such a sweet letter you left in church for me to find. I shall always remember that first innocent dawning of young love, as girls are inclined to do. I will treasure your letter always, and probably tie it up in pink ribbon with all the others.”

Then she stooped and kissed me on the head, remounted her bicycle, and pedalled off, waving gaily and blowing kisses to such an extent that her bicycle wobbled alarmingly until she regained control, just in time to avoid being squashed between two Eddie Stobart lorries (Agatha Millicent and Edna Jane, I believe, though I could be wrong, being as you can imagine in a state of agitated bliss at that moment.)

“With all the others”! She is being coy, I know, but surely that is a hint that already she can see far ahead to that mountain of correspondence between us that will extend far into the future, well beyond the bounds of my GCSE results!

Oh Diary, dear Diary! Oh Rachel, dear Rachel!

Oh Joy!