page 243 — April 1943

Desperate, I tried to ring up Margaret [C], being the only person I knew in Oxford—but they were not in the book. Now hopelessly distrait, I ran to the police station who were unsympathetically unhelpful. … zfl zem

A lady in the digs was very helpful and comforting when I somewhat tearfully (I know it all sounds damn silly now, but there I was in a strange town with my parents apparently quite vanished) confessed my trouble. Unhopefully, I left the digs to walk to the station—and there they were walking towards me! I felt sick and cried from relief. The explanation was quite simple—the only one of many dramatic, lurid and painful possibilities that I had not considered. They had thought that I was staying out to supper, and so when Daddy arrived they had caught a bus out to Abingdon and had had supper there—very enjoyable. My two hours of anguish and my exposure to the contempt of others less affectionate or less sensitive than our family had been—as is usually the case—unnecessary. zfl zmh zem zsy

Friday 16^th

… Mommy and I went to Folly Bridge and got a punt. We went up the Cherwell—a lovely little river and good for punting—which I gradually improved at. We decided to go up and fetch Daddy and food to the punt, contrary to our previous decision. We got to ‘Parson’s Pleasure’ [male-only bathing in this section of river], where I rested until Mommy reappeared with Daddy and lunch. Kingfisher flew past as we ate our food, moored to the bank in dappled sunlight and great contentment. … zfl zbo zfd zwl

We … went three doors along [from our digs] to ‘The Golden Kettle’ for tea … the manageress was the sympathetic lodger of last night—shyness of my state then prevented me from being duly grateful. … zfl zem zfd

[See note]