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most conveniently join us, and on the afternoon in question I awaited her arrival
at London’s Victoria Station. I waited for three or four Continental train arrivals,
until, in fact, there was the minimal time for me to arrive in Brighton with
sufficient time to change. She did not arrive.

Disconsolately, I boarded the Express to Brighton and made the Dinner just
on time. My mood was not of the highest order, but I knew that because Father
had made such efforts to arrange everything, I had to put my best foot forward.
Fortunately, this turned out to be not at all difficult; Jacqueline was indeed there,
unaccompanied, and wearing a gold dress that fitted marvellously what had
always been a notable figure, and we actually enjoyed a superb partnership for
the evening. As a measure of what could go wrong, however, one can always be
thrown a ‘curve-ball’; the sommelier was very pleased to bring out the red wine
“straight from the fridge”, as he put it, thereby generating a minor apoplectic fit
from Father, who was, of course, in the wine trade himself. New bottles were
found, but for such a classy place, this was a strange error; even if one wants
chilled red wine (not itself a mortal sin), that choice is surely sufficiently unusual
for it to merit enquiry. Nevertheless, it was an evening to remember, both for the
event itself and for the company. Meanwhile, back home, David and I had been
to a local party or two and found that in the village there were now a number of
eligible young ladies. He had briefly enjoyed the ministrations of one Judith, but
the brevity arose from the fact that he was now securely anchored, and, strangely,
because Judith sought to have with him a brief and chaste affair.

The big change in my life was, however, the purchase of a car. I visited a
number of dubious dealers to research what I wanted, and quickly found that my
preferences (Jaguar XK, Rapier, Daimler Dart) were all too expensive, the cheap
ones (bug-eyed Austins and MGs, MG TDs and TCs too small and innocuous)
and the middle-ground (MGAs, Healeys and Triumphs) within purchase-ability.
I finally found a sleazy fellow in East London who had the perfect red MGA
Twin-Cam. Its body was in great shape, and it was very handsome. As I knew
nobody with any real knowledge of the car business, I decided that this was the
best that I would be able to buy, and on December 30th plunked down my one
hundred and seventy pounds; I was sure that my social life was suddenly on the
upward curve. I immediately took Judith for a ride, and she much admired my
new masculinity, or at least I thought that that was what she was thinking.

Christmas passed, and I cut a dashing figure at the Jacqueline wedding, which,
although I believed him a lucky man (I thought him something of ‘a stiff upper lip
above a loose flabby chin’, but that view was not unclouded by some elements of
jealousy) I actually quite enjoyed. That was in part because the groom had in his
party a distant relative, Stephanie, a girl of considerable beauty. But I found things
not as easy as anticipated, as I had never really considered the magnetic effect of
a uniform (though Mother had told me to remember its advantages, and about

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