Saturday 12 August

Could not face diary yesterday. Yesterday worst day of my life so far, for foll. reasons:

1) was delivering Daily Mirror at 141 Bywater Street when figure emerged from 143, gracefully mounted bicycle, and pedalled forth. I was fortuitously concealed beneath a holly bush so Rachel did not see me. For indeed it was she.

2) Mum said very polite boy returned umbrella, saying he recognised it as Mum’s when he saw it discarded outside the chip shop on his way to church for private prayer, which had taken longer than he thought. “And by the way,” said Mum nastily, “Antony wishes to be remembered to you.”

3) was docked £2.50 from salary to pay for replacement copies of newspapers for 18 people who had objected to having wads of papier maché squeezed through their letter boxes on my first day.

4) received demand for refund of £6 overpayment of Stipend from Treasurer.

Could not even face session with Goldfinger.

Horrible day. It can only get better from now on.