Chapter 7The Diary, Part one
The old, well fingered diary lay just where it had stood all day, left on the dressing table when the time to leave for work had arrived at eight that morning. At four by three inches in size, with a navy-blue plastic cover it was a simple, common mass-produced product that many people would have carried in their pocket or purse back in the nineteen sixties. The corners of the cover were turned up with age, much like most of the pages within, printed a day to a page. Whoever had owned it had omitted to fill in the page for name and address and personal details, so Alex couldn't know who the writer of the diary had been. As always, Alex found the 31st of July 1966 to be the natural starting point.
Why didn't she let me kiss her? I wouldn't have hurt her if onl
