Well I can’t say I’m pleased to be back in Walmington. The place seems to have gone to ruins since 1945. When I walked along the promenade this evening it looked like the Germans had landed after all – a disgraceful mess of broken concrete and rusted wire. Still none of my business to sort it out. And I have plenty to do for the time being.
I find myself a little melancholy this evening – not like me at all. But to be alone, in a cheap hotel in deep winter is rather glum. Still tomorrow I shall start to put a little order to my affairs.