22nd April 1961
22nd April
Saturday
Dear Diary
Michael took me to the Rag Ball at the ‘Tec. I didn’t think much of the actual dance but then, we didn’t spend much time in there anyway. It stated on the tickets that no pass-outs were allowed so, of course, we had to have our drink beforehand. We went into the Robin Hood pub and unfortunately ran into Matthew and the immortal Crooks whom I have heard so much about, with his girlfriend.
I frequently hear of the things that this Crooks has done or hasn’t done but still, the introduction was a bit of a shock. I took an instant dislike to him and I discovered after, Michael felt the same. He was so – affected, I suppose the word is. The introductions were so formal and the height of politeness that I think maybe I should have curtsied.
I wore my cheong-sam, at Michael’s request but didn’t feel very comfortable in it as the place was swarming with Beatniks. We returned to the ‘Tec and danced until the interval, in all about an hour. After going for some tea, where I met Joan Lambert plus boyfriend, Michael and I strolled around the grounds of the ‘Tec and talked about a lot of things that had to be settled.
He asked if I had written my final letter to Alan yet and I told him the truth, I hadn’t. He became rather cold and told me I had to do something about it as things just couldn’t go on as they are.
I really must make up my mind.
But which? They are so utterly different. Michael is a sporty type, good looking, smartly dressed, wonderful company and jolly good fun for a good time.
Alan, compared to Michael, is a steadier type, bookish and stolid, very complementary and flatteringly attentive. Definitely the type to marry and settle down with.
Do I, at 18, want to settle down and marry? That is the whole point. Do I, at 18, want to add another 3 months to the last 3, sitting in every night with nothing to do but write letters? Or do I want the jolly good time that Michael can and wants to give me? Even though it seems pretty obvious from the way I feel, I think it would hurt Alan a great deal to write a Dear John now, when he is so far away and can do nothing about it. What an unholy mess. Yet it is something only I can decide, nobody wants to or, I think, can give me advice about this problem.
ALAMORE 