Running to Paradise by Virginia Budd Page B

father’s charm. Only once did I detect a sign of missing Renton. When I kissed her goodnight she asked if I thought that Augustus, her cat, would be alright without her. ‘You see,’ she said, ‘I’m the only person he can talk to, no one else understands him.’
    Dick still down in the dumps. Things no better between him and Con. ‘She fills the house with poets and anarchists,’ he told me. ‘Rum people who sit about all day in the drawing room talking nonsense.’ Apparently the other evening Con, in front of everyone, ordered him upstairs to bed: he wasn’t contributing anything useful to their conversation, she said!
    Life so busy now I scarcely have time to write this journal. Four o’clock already. I must put on my hat and coat and fetch Char from school...
    Garden Court, Kensington — 4th October 1913
    Miss Ryder, Char’s form mistress, says she is settling in so well, such good news. Roo is beginning to dote on her, as I do, and indeed is halfway to spoiling the child!
    Milly Fenton-Wright tells me people are beginning to talk — Con and some young man called Hubert Stokes, who writes avant garde plays. He has apparently stayed alone at Renton with her and is telling people they are going to Paris together! To cap that, Dick was seen at Cheltenham Races with Bunny Burgoyne’s wife!
    Where, I wonder, will it all end?
    Char to tea on Sunday with a little school friend, Polly Everett. Such nice people. He’s something in the City and she’s a friend of Barbara Dundas and does such charming watercolours.
    Garden Court, Kensington — 18th December 1913
    Char to Renton tomorrow, how sad and how we shall miss her. No Renton for me this Christmas: Con (apparently) too seedy to entertain or so she says. Roo and I go North to her people instead.
    Char made such an enchanting little fairy in the school Christmas play. She had one line to speak and did a little dance as well. Roo says she thinks the dance must have been extempore and not in her part. She says she heard someone whispering from the wings, ‘Osborn, come off at once!’ Never mind, the audience was charmed, especially the papas!
    Nearly 1914 — how old I am getting. I wonder what the New Year will bring for us all...?
    *
    This is the secret diary of Charlotte Mary Osborn. Anyone who reads it without asking her first will have a curse laid on them and they will surely die.
    Renton House, Beds — 2nd January 1914
    No hunting because of frost. Horrible boiled eggs for breakfast and liver for lunch. Helped Smith in the potting shed. Went with Ma and Uncle Hubert to a concert in the village. Sat on Uncle Hubert’s knee and he laughed when a fat lady sang a song about fairies. I love Uncle H. He is not like a grown-up. He calls me his mermaid because I have green eyes.
    Renton House, Beds — 3rd January 1914
    I will write this diary every day. Uncle H went away today. We saw him off at the station. Ma was cross. A smut went in her eye and Uncle H got it out. He gave me a lovely little lucky charm on a ring all the way from Egypt. I had fun in the bath tonite.
    Renton House, Beds — 6th January 1914
    Nothing happened today.
    Renton House, Beds — 10th January 1914
    Pa came home today. He was cross because I had been in Warrior’s stable. He says it is dangerous as Warrior kicks and anyway he told me not to. Warrior is not dangerous. He is lovely and would never kick me. The new groom who is called Gilles said I must not do it again or he will get into trouble. Gilles is ever so nice. He showed me his cigarette cards. He has some good ones.
    We saw the soldiers marching through the village again today. All the village children were shouting and waving flags. A soldier winked at me as he marched by. Ma is ill. She read Bevis to me at rest. It is a luvly book.
    Renton House, Beds — 12th January 1914
    Gilles showed me how to clean the tack. He says spit is best. He says he was going to be a jockey but he did not smoke enuff so he grew too tall for