I'll start straight away. It is so peaceful at the moment, Mummy and Daddy are out and Margot has gone play ping-pong with some friends.
I've been playing pingpong a lot myself lately.
We pingpongers are very partial to an ice cream, especially in summer, when one gets warm at the game, so we usually finish up with a visit to the nearest ice cream shop, Delphi or Oasis , where Jews are allowed.
We've given up scrounging for extra pocket money. Oasis is usually full and among our large circle of friends we always manage to find some kindhearted gentleman or boy friend, who presents us with more ice cream than we could devour in a week.
I expect you will be rather surprised at the fact that I should talk of boy friends at my age. Alas, one simply can't seem to avoid it at our school. As soon as a boy asks if he may bicycle home with me and we get into conversation, over heels in love immediately and simply won't allow me out of his sight. After a while it cools down of course. especially as I take little notice of ardent looks and pedal blithely on.
If it gets so far that they begin about "asking Father" I swerve slightly on my bicycle, my satchel falls, the young man is bound to get off and hand it to me, by which time I have introduced a new topic of conversation.
These are the most innocent types, you get some who blow kisses or try to get hold of your arm, but then they are definitely knocking at the wrong door. I get off my bicycle and refuse to go further in their company, or I pretend to be insulted and tell them in no uncertain terms to clear off.
There, the foundation of our friendship is laid, till tomorrow!
Yours, Anne
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