If . . .

I was up at ten and into Easterby to collect my waistcoat from the dry cleaners and to buy a Charlie Parker LP. I called in at the El Dorado for a beefburger sandwich and to talk to Grant and got home at about one. “A Night in Tunisia” is unbelievable, especially the sax break. Its falling, rising, tumbling tremulous tones make my spine shiver.

I’ve been thinking about the exams. On the whole the papers weren't that difficult and if I’d revised thoroughly then I could maybe have done well. But it's always an‘if’. . . .

It's a good feeling just to be able to sit about with an easy conscience though: it was funny when occasionally a twinge of guilt overtook me before I realised that now I’m free. I watched Cameroon hold Poland to a 0-0 draw. The former looked much more dangerous in the second half.