GUY FAWKES NIGHT!
S A T U R D A Y, 4 N O V
Poor Anya had a dreadful time at the party because of this weed she met. He’s called Malcolm and he spent the whole evening snogging. Once he slobbered his hand all over her face and said “where’s your mouth?”!!! By the time she got home she was nearly sick. I was killing myself but she's miserable. He's ringing her up on Monday.
Then Dutch Grandma and Grandpa arrived for tea. Anya was thrilled to see them - she adores Grandma’s “stoeries”! Daddy showed them his Amsterdam competition designs - Grandma thinks they're are marvellous. I must say, I do too.
When they’d gone we left – for Brockham Green!
First we bought hamburgers. Everyone crowded around the huge bonfire as the procession of flares approached (fortunately it didn’t rain). Two boys had to climb up to fix the guy to a post, while all the time this chap with a microphone was keeping up a commentary, trying (not at all successfully) to be like Rosko. While the boys were fixing the guy he shouted out things like, “hurry up George, you’re not on holiday up there, you know...” He was so corny.
The fireworks weren't as good as usual, but Anya and me had terrific fun because we spoke French all the time. At the roast pig stall we stood next to this fab "garcon aux cheveux blonds" who really did think we were French - Anya heard him turn to his friend and say, “merci beaucoup”! He kept on sort of looking at us, but unfortunately Chump and A-M talked English to us whenever they came up. We got so embarrassed we had to leave. Bought some sausages and tried to find him again, but it was absolutely impossible to push through the crowd. Walking back to the car the whole field was flooded and I fell into the river and got drenched!
Anya and A-M had a bath. Gorgeous merangues for supper. Then we wrote our Diaries.
Anya still feels disgusted about last night. She says it was just like an orgy.