In what may go down in history as my greatest accomplishment, I managed to liberate Hesketh’s ignition key while he was distracted by Unc’s almost unhinged manner of story-telling. I feel rather proud, as though this may be my raison d’être – to irritate Hesketh, possibly into cardiac arrest.
Unc forced me to attend an ARP lecture today. Hideous bore of an afternoon. I simply do not require old Francis from the Post Office to rabbit on at me regarding tiny slivers of light between blinds. I am not a simpleton. I understand the intentions of a blackout. Although, we did practice with the gas masks which I found to be an exhilarating experience, sort of like a futuristic warrior woman. Mustn’t let Unc read this, he may laugh so hard his head falls off.
Of course, we can always count on Mosley’s boys and girls to dampen whatever joy may be taken from the war preparations. They were out in full force, protesting down at the refugee centre, handing out pamphlets and squawking on about the evil Jews. I yawned rather purposefully in their direction but a bloody big bus happened across the road just as I reached the peak (stretched arms, the lot) and so my protest of their protest went unnoticed. Never mind, shall try again another day.
Bloody scorcher it was today as well. Shall have to sleep in the nude tonight for fear might melt into the sheets and be found in a fleshy puddle the next morning by little Annie. Have no intention of being the inspiration of her night terrors.
Hesketh is now staying an extra night because the idiot was too dense to find the ignition key where I had hidden it; in the outhouse. Drat. I fear I am being punished for my genius. Can’t come out with the truth now, far too unpleasant a situation. So, pyjamas it is (just in case the Jerrys start the war early – do not fancy Hesketh catching sight of me barrelling down the stairs completely starkers when the sirens go off)