Scrimshaw, possible beau, good at glancing
Alan Devereaux, appalling marriage material, ‘conventionally unconventional’, lusts for cream cakes
Monica Haddow, friend, possibly addicted to masturbation, fellow visitor to …
Gordon Howe, influential Harley Street psychotherapist
Friends and acquaintances from Wee Cottage, the war and beyond:
Josephine Norris, friend, hypochondriac, ghost-like lover of the actor Leslie Howard
Lady Spicer, generous next-door neighbour
Kathleen Moneypenny, owner of Wee Cottage
D.F., or Francis, good sense of humour, bad nails, goes all the way
Tommy Hughes, a fellow aluminium worker, a lover, a doctor
Jean Macfarlane, an old school chum, legal father
Mac (also M., or Mellas or Alan), Jean’s obsession, married and unpredictable, bit of a shit
Hugh Laming, soldier, journalist, friend from Malta, lover of Lillian Gish, lover of Jean, great letter writer
Maritza, his Greek wife
Lydia, a work colleague, a decorator, fellow Mac user
Michael Sadleir, a novelist
Thomas Sadleir, a genealogist, a mentor
Peggy Denny (P.D.), formerly Penny Harding, wife of architect Valentine Harding, fellow Liberal campaigner, dresses like autumn
Clinton G.F., a despised post-war suitor
D.B., another post-war suitor, met on return journey from Portugal
R.W., a girlfriend at the alloys company, reliable source of gossip
Lady B.P., a large, opinionated local friend, often annoying
Miss Drumm, a property owner, a benefactor
Ralph L., an attractive art teacher
Angela, a lanky young shop assistant
N.G., a picture framer, Angela’s pash
Lizzie, adventurous painter friend
Mrs V.N., worried about Liz’s mental health
Alison Uttley, obliging children’s author
Rolf Harris, unnaturally popular at Jean’s book stall
The cars, in order of rusting:
A Fiat, circa 1925, father’s, once made it to Cornwall
1947 Ford Prefect, cost £40, known as Freddie, rust bucket, got her to Slough and back (ten miles total)
1954 Ford Anglia, bought in 1965. ‘Astounding bargain.’
1964 Morris 1000 Traveller, known as Jolly Morris when it worked, purchased late 1969
1964 Singer Vogue, £150 in 1972, tricky switches
Mini Morris Traveller G. reg., purchased 1976; rusted
Suzie Min, Mini Traveller, purchased 1979, radiator collapses soon after
Standard Mini, purchased 1981, got her to Wexham hospital
The cats, in memoriam:
Cheeta, Dinah, Ginger Tom (visitor), Suzie, Little Titch, The Kittyhawk, Ping, Pong, Twinkle, Joey, Squib, Pepper, Walrus, Pharaoh (formerly Tom-Tit), Starlet, The Damned Spot, Pinkie, Pewter Puss, The Senator, Walter, Nicky, Pye, Bumphrey (Bum), Pinnie, Priss, MaryAnne, Buster, George, Tweezle, Mitzie, Jubie.
Frontispiece
This document is strictly private. All that is written herein being the exact thoughts, feelings, deeds and words of Miss J.L. Pratt and not to be read thereby by anyone whatsoever until after the said Miss J.L.P.’s death, be she married or single at the date of that event. Miss Pratt will, if she be in good state of mind and body, doubtless leave instructions as to the disposal of this document after her decease. Should any unforeseen accident occur before she is thus able to leave instructions, it is her earnest desire that these pages should be first perused by the member of her family whom she holds most dear that will still be living and to whom the pages may be of interest.
Signed: J.L. Pratt 19261
1.
Into a Cow
Saturday, 18 April 1925 (aged fifteen)
I have decided to write a journal. I mean to go on writing this for years and years, and it’ll be awfully amusing to read over later.
We’re going to Torquay next week. I feel so thrilled! We start on Tuesday and drive all the way down in our own car. We only got it at Xmas, and Daddy has only just learnt to drive. It’ll be rather fun I think. It’s a Fiat by make. I’ve always longed for a car. I’m going to learn to drive it when I’m 16.
Do you remember Arthur Ainsworth, Jean? Funny bloke – he used to be in the Church Lads Brigade when Leslie was Lieutenant.2 He used to be my ‘beau’ then. He used to come and have Morse lessons with Leslie. He used to put his arm round me when he was learning – I could only have been 8 then! And we used to play grandmother’s footsteps in the garden and he tried to kiss me – he did kiss my hair. I was quite thrilled – but not overmuch. He used to be sort of Churchwarden at the Children’s Service on Sunday afternoon and I used to giggle all the time – even though Mummy was there. I think she knew! She didn’t say anything though, the darling – oh how I miss her. I wish she were here now. I’d have been all I could to her.
Anyway, who was my next beau? I can’t remember. I think it was Gilbert Dodds. I’ve got them all down in secret code in my last year’s diary. Let’s go and fetch it.
Yes, here it is – I’ve got it down like this:
PR (past romances)
1. A.A.
2. G.D.
3. T.M.
4. K.L.
5. C.B.
6. R.
Gilbert Dodds was the 2nd. He was awfully good looking. He lived at Ealing. The 3rd was Tony Morgan. I hated him, but in my extreme youth I used to go to school with him and I used to go to tea etc. Daddy once suggested he should be
