ANOTHER HOT DAY FOR A DIG
M O N D A Y, 2 4 J U L Y
Talk about a fantastic summer! Yet another scorcher!
Met Anya at 9.15 and we got the bus to Ewell and the dig. Some weedy boys were there this time, with their history master and a chap smoking a pipe. Martha had brought ‘Mademoiselle Age Tendre’ with Polnareff and Zouzou in it, so we talked about that, and then she sang us Pol's ‘Ta Ta Ta’ (which she has been taught!). Lucy and Anne were there too, and Sally B, who annoys me intensely - she's far too old-fashioned for her age. To be entirely against pop-music and mod clothes and anything unconventional is rather pathetic.
We got pretty tired needless to say, so most of us stopped off at Cheam. We had our lunch in Nonsuch Park. I was terribly thirsty but Anne gave me some Tizer. Lay quite a long time sun-bathing. Then went to the conveniences, which are tiled with old Dutch tiles. Also went to the peacock place (the females are such an anti-climax!).
Then walked back to the dig. Did trowelling, pretty deadly. The chap with the pipe is an absolute nit. All his corny remarks put Anya and me into fits (e.g. “what have I got here? A leg! Surprising what you find on digs...”). But suddenly it was so good: the weed next to us leant across to put something in the box and said, "oh, d'you mind if I just..." IN A FRENCH ACCENT!!! Anya and me were left with our mouths wide open. Here we'd been talking all about Polnareff's fab voice, when what should we have next to us but a French boy!! Every time he said anything we strained our ears to hear, his accent put us in such a swoon.
Mrs Goldman rang up tonight to say Sydney is absolutely adoring sailing. I'm so glad because that means we’ll have him on the boat - and MARK may come too!!! On the other hand, he may not.
Daddy is very depressed at the hopeless economical state of this country; today they started petrol rationing. That seedy British Empire was the worst thing that ever happened.