Saturday, June 13, 1981
I went to Woodhead Park at one thirty to meet Lee and Andy Wiechec but had to wait for an hour or so before they arrived. The park lake’s been drained; I felt sorry for all the ducks, huddled on the litter-strewn mud flats and dodging bricks hurled by the hordes of kids who spend time there. It was swelteringly warm. We wandered up to the bowling greens for a couple of hours, Andy winning, me coming last, then had a look round Hainsworth Hall where I bought a Simone Cantarini postcard. The attendant pointed out the original. Wiechec gave me a lift to his house on the back of his bicycle, which really made me want one even more. We left at l five after I’d agreed to buy his rucksack off him for £8.50.
Someone fired blanks at the Queen. She looked quite shaken afterwards. The six year old Italian stuck down a 200-ft shaft has been abandoned to his fate and I feel really sorry; he’s been calling for his mother, which brings home how lonely and scared he must be.