Taste of doubt

I started my essay on The Awakening at about nine in the morning after staying up all night, and finally finished it around one in the afternoon

After this, Guy and I went to the betting shop, Crown Racing, on Old Priory Road so I could get the flat contracts signed. We walked back through Westdorgan Park in bright hot sun. Beyond the University, the landscape unfolds in idyllic scenes of trees and gently rolling park land, and although it just doesn’t appeal to me like the Yorkshire hills and dales do, it’s still as good as anything the South can offer.

Carl Cotton and an RCP friend were down from London to help Barry with the bookstall. When he’s with the RCP clique, Barry behaves very differently: he adopts a stonier and less equable attitude towards us and this place, and he withdraws into political talk. I’m never comfortable discussing politics with him, because sometimes my conscience is pricked and more often than not, this leaves the taste of doubt in my mouth.