APRIL 1943

Last night I dreamed about the matinée we saw last Sunday afternoon. Not the actual film, because I hardly watched that. But a different film. In fact, it was like a different day altogether. The film was about a soldier on leave who meets a squire’s daughter. Her toffee-nosed father is a veteran of the 1914–18 war. He’s not sure about this young whipper-snapper walking out with his daughter, but slowly he comes to realize that he’s not a bad lad. And the young soldier is won over when he realizes that the old boy goes firewatching with the local yokels. In other words, he does his bit. I hated the film because it didn’t tell the truth, but my friend quite liked it. He told me that this was his first English film. Afterwards, I took him for fish and chips, then we got the bus home. When I woke up, I thought I was going to cry.