Friday, February 13, 1981


Superbly sunny again today but cold. Julie Crabtree told me that Dawn Jagger saw me and Claire at the bus stop last Sunday and asked if we were going out. In English we dissected “Sweeney Among The Nightingales” and then I went for some milk. It was really refreshing outside, the sky clear and etched with the odd yellow vapour trail or cloud, everything icy and crisp. I love days like this. We played cards and the rest of the day was pleasant and humdrum.

After school, Jeremy and Richard played tennis and I knocked a ball against the Sports Hall wall until they’d finished, and then after that I played Richard and he thrashed me 6-1, 6-0. By now the sun was really orange and it was almost like a summer’s evening. After four when we finished and then we caught the ‘bus onto Moxthorpe. They went home and I got my hair cut.

The evening was not worth mentioning. I kept thinking about Claire, about conversations we've had, about trivial, mundane everyday things, all of which my mind magnifies. I can’t help it though. I’m like Captain Benwick!

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