16th March 1962


I’ve cut out and pinned the green fabric for my next skirt, so I’m getting on well with the haute couture.

The week hit its peak on Wednesday.

I took a whole evening in preparation for a night out on the 14th Alan’s 23rd birthday. I was determined to have a good time.  It’s ages since we let our hair down and really went all out for the enjoyment instead of saving money.

 I had arranged to meet Alan at his office and we went on for lunch.  I waited for him in the lobby as instructed and was greeted with a bear-hug and a kiss on the stairs. 

We went to the Ilford Palais in the evening and spent longer than we should in the bar.  We were both ever so nicely tipsy and giggling like children.

We suffered the next day.  My head screamed the morning after.  I don’t know how I got through a day’s work and hope I didn’t make too many mistakes.

When I asked Alan what will we do on my birthday and suggested perhaps we could have a party?  He said, ‘we’ll see.’  Just as Mum and Dad would.  Now I have 3 to work on!

I phoned Alan’s office this morning but he wasn’t in work.  ‘A bad cold’ I was told.  Or maybe the hangover has stretched to another day?  I went to his house straight from work to find he was in bed.  He didn’t appear to be very ill to me.  When I went into his room he moved over in the bed, looked down and said, ‘Well, take your coat off then’!!!


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