Mills & Boon

In the morning, there was a bit of tension with Dad over N. Ireland. After I’d finished the notes on the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood I was at a loss at what to do; I tried to work on an English essay, then on my Art, and finally frittered the half-hearted day aimlessly away, either in my bedroom playing records or talking/listening to Nanna P. I was surprised when she said she’d read most of Doris Lessing’s books, which put me off a bit, bringing them down into the Catherine Cookson/Barbara Cartland category. Later I found out she thought I’d said ‘Doris Leslie’, who is a Mills & Boon tripe author.

Andrew rang; he’s really excited now at the prospects for Saturday and Denmark. I am jealous.