October 11th 1944


I hear from Bill, back home again. Reg and I go and have a few drinks at the Trevor Arms, very nice, nearby. No flying for some days due to bad visibility and fog. I go in and take B. shopping yesterday afternoon and then we go in the car into Wales and have tea at the Queen Hotel, whilst her father goes on for a consultation. Damn cold on the way home, and Mrs Paul produces whisky macs, and I swallow three and then take B. to dinner at the Grosvenor. We get a bit “warm”, what with fun and games under the rug in the back of the car, and one thing and another, and I don’t want to cycle home at all.

£1 less pay this month for some reason – must be more income tax.

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