Wednesday 6 September

Mum’s women’s group was cancelled last night at the last minute because someone’s baby had got the croup. Mum didn’t go to the group croup feely-in that was put on instead, despite the offer of free lessons in plumbing and bricklaying. Instead she spent the evening on the phone to Mrs Ramsbotham. Mum spends a fortune on phone calls to Mrs Ramsbotham, who only lives in the next street, whither mum could walk in two minutes and spend a happy evening of conversation without putting British Telecom to any inconvenience whatsoever. I think that mum thinks that the moment her back was turned I would fill the house with scantily clad maidens and woo them to distraction with my Raindrop Prelude, which I realise suddenly I have not practised for a fortnight.

But could not do any practice anyway because mum was still on the phone, so went to bed early on pretext of a headache, and read chapters 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 of Goldfinger, then cheated and read chapter 18 out of sequence.

Put bookmark from Fountains Abbey in Chapter 18, not that I am likely to forget. Chapter 18 is almost as steamy as Rachel’s letter, and I hope I do not start thinking about Chapter 18 next Sunday when I am playing the organ, for such would be a most unseemly thing in Church.