In History we’re still talking about Stalin’s rise to power and the methods used to boot out Trotsky; “the Party is always right” etc.
In the afternoon, Claire and Evelyn told Lee and I about their big argument with Tony M. and Deborah; apparently I’m being told all this simply because Jeremy and Duncan can’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut. Deborah really fancies Tony; he stays over at her house on the weekends and wants to go into banking so they can get a cheap mortgage. “We all seem to be splitting up,” Claire said. Later, Lee and I hurled cushions at Peter Wood, Evelyn, and Claire and everything got quite chaotic.
Lee and I called at Claire’s after Art and the three of us walked to my house. Mum made us all either coffee and tea and put some biscuits out and then Dad gave us a lift to St. Austin’s for Murder in the Cathedral. We were the first there and all sat together on the second pew. The performance was fairly good if a bit amateurish in parts and Jeremy was OK as the priest. When one bloke came on in long pointed green-felt boots and nearly fell over, Lee started laughing which set me off and then Claire too. Tina Margerison’s Dad gave us a lift back to Moxthorpe roundabout.
I’ve just thought; perhaps I should’ve walked Claire back home? As we were dropped off I remember thinking that she was looking at me as if she expected something. What a thoughtless berk I am!! I could kick myself. I can’t help mentioning these little things which are so trivial and, when I reread them, quite boring, but I’m trying to capture the mood I was in at that time and the essence of the moment. Like the moment Claire sat next to me on the window sill. . . . God, how corny I seem. I mull over these details all evening. She probably never thinks even once about them afterwards.