Category: Week 25: 25th – 30th June 1961

25th June 1961

Darling Maureen,

This the great egg eater reporting from a little ol’ island at the end of the Med on the left hand side.  How are you my pet, looking forward to your holiday I bet (poetry!)

The past week has been pretty fair in many ways.  First and most important was a charming ‘little’ letter plus some very attractive photographs from a certain young lady from Dagenham.

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27th June 1961

Dear Diary,

I don’t think I can reproach myself at all.  I said all I had planned to.  Maybe it was a half-hearted attempt but I was only trying to let him down lightly and make him say the final words.  This gets worse and worse.

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28th June 1961

Hi!,

This is that man of yours attempting another masterpiece, says he.  Maureen, did I ever tell you that you are beautiful?  Well, darling, you are.  And after these very original lines I’ll continue. 

You know for a girl who says she hasn’t much to write about, you wade through a hell of a lot of pages, tell me dear, what is your secret?  Perhaps you drink Horlicks with a dash of gin, immediately before retiring for the night/morning or something.

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30th June 1961

Dear Diary,

Michael came to the house as arranged but in a worse state than expected. He was cycling to work this morning when a lorry, with a plank overhanging the side, overtook him and knocked him off his bike.  He was taken to Oldchurch Hospital, patched up and sent home.  He still looked pretty shaken up when I saw him.

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