Читать книгу Sand In My Shoes: Coming of Age in the Second World War: A WAAF’s Diary - Joan Rice - Страница 31

Last night Joyce and I had a party. First I drank cider and then I drank gin and lime and then a concoction of Joyce's called Black Velvet and then gin and lime, and then I would have had a glass of sherry except that after two mouthfuls, swallowed in my urgent desire for the experience of drunkenness, Joyce drank the rest for me. I began to get very tired and just couldn't wake up to say goodbye when our guests went, and then the next thing I knew was that strange hands, e.g. Dillon and Firebrace, whose passes extended beyond ten o'clock, were undressing me. I endeavoured to sit up and protest against this outrage but they were both so much stronger than me that the rest of my clothes, to an accompaniment of soothing and infuriating murmurs, were taken from me. I got up a little later and was sick and then despite my shrieks that I wouldn't go to bed I was thrust into the blankets, given a bottle and then ignored when I wanted to talk with them.

Today, chastened and sick in my stomach, I have been the centre of indulgent amusement, and sat tonight pensively sipping a very weak brandy and soda recommended to soothe my stomach in front of the downstairs room fire, feeling that, as an experience, once is enough of getting drunk.