1961, My 18th Summer
My diary entries from the week I first met Alan in 1961.
Dear Diary,
A day that deserves capital letters and all the fancy trimming it can get!
All through the day I had been doing my utmost to clear all thoughts of him from my mind. I know that the more I thought about him the slower the time until the evening would pass. I think I did jolly well, for the evening arrived before I realised it.
After the disappointment on Tuesday I have resigned myself and was thinking along the ‘whatever will be, will be‘ lines.
Dear Diary,
The main happening today was Lena’s return home from hospital. Dad phoned the hospital after lunch to see how she was and they said we could bring her home whenever we wished.
Dear Diary,
Another lazy day. I didn’t get up until nearly lunch time and I haven’t got one scrap of conscience about it. Isn’t it marvellous to be on holiday?
Jennifer and I went to see Lena in hospital. She is fine but complaining about the injections she has been given. Apparently they hurt more than her ankle. There was so much to talk about that I nearly forgot to ask her how she was.
Dear Diary,
The day I have been waiting for, for many, many weeks.
I was actually up pretty early considering Lena is still in hospital and I am on holiday. I dressed with extra care, for, not knowing what time he would be here, I wanted to look perfect every minute.
Dear Diary,
Of all the absolute rotten luck. I’ve never known anything like it in all my life! I had better start from the beginning before I get carried away with my tale of woe.
Uncle George came round as arranged and took us to Rush Green Hospital. He waited outside and I went in the Outpatients Department with Lena. Half an hour later, I was informed that they were going to keep her in ‘for 2 or 3 days’. The swelling had gone down as expected but they were frightened of tetanus. They said they do have to keep a special eye on foreigners as regards to tetanus – something to do with the different air.
Dear Diary,
Today has been very quiet. Just the sort of day needed to recover from last week. Nothing very interesting has happened and all thoughts, especially mine, are turned to Tuesday and Alan. One thing can be said about this holiday, it hasn’t ended in an anti-climax like all the others. Usually, coming home from a holiday especially one that has been enjoyable, is terribly and depressing. This year there has been so much to think about and worry about, we were home before I realised it.
Dear Diary
Feeling very, very sleepy. We crawled to the dining room for breakfast and crawled out again. By the time we had packed the last odds and ends it was ten to eight.
The taxi was already there when I reached reception. We said our farewells to David and Ian who were staying over another week- and, the taxi pulled out of the camp. Breaking the final ties of a marvellous holiday.
