Go sailing on Saturday. I skipper “Thistle” with Cotterill as crew and we come last. He is sick at one period, the effect of bad whisky at an RAF dance last night, so he tells me. At Rajpuram I put about too quickly and have to jibe to avoid hitting the buoy. I nearly capsize her once or twice too, and when letting down the sail at the end it catches on one of the wire hallyards and makes a tear about four inches long.
Then dinner with Jos Redman in the Fort and we go to the Connemara afterwards with Mike Kerro, Cotterill and Scarlett. I don’t enjoy it, have three gin slices and we get away about 1am. Abbott has a cocktail party that night, to which I am not invited, and then they all go on to the Connemara at about 11pm. The only people I want to dance with are in that party, which makes it a bit awkward and I can do nothing about it. Last night John and I called on the Mocketts – having given warning – they don’t seem very keen to see us –
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