September 4th: This morning I was up at 7.30 am. Arthur arrived at 9.30 am. We set off for Wimbledon Common at 9.45 am. We went by bus from Hammersmith and took our lunch. We arrived there (Joan, Arthur and I) at about 10.20 am and walked about a mile. We gave part of our egg sandwiches and 6d to some poor blighter who had had no grub for two days (so, at least, he said). Walked miles and miles through ripping country and woodland, and sat down several times to have some grub and fruit. I did a bit of sketching. We saw a windmill, fields and fields of heather and some splendid moss (some of which we took home to plant in our Japanese garden). Arrived home very tired at 6 o’clock and went to the Guild of Servers monthly meeting at 8 o’clock. After the short service ate refreshments, read “Humorists” and played whist with Mr Belcher, Mr Smith (the curate) and Brown. Got home at 10.45 pm and to bed, very tired.

Bill followed Peter to Latymer Upper, paid for by his godfather as he did not win a scholarship. I think Bill suffered all his life from being the younger brother of the pride of the family, Peter. Arthur and Florence were becoming convinced that Peter was special, and Arthur confidently began to expect that he had sired a second Dickens.

They had had a worrying shock when he was twelve and went down with rheumatic fever – Peter didn’t remember all that much about it except the impression that his pillow was made of rock.

By the time he reached the Sixth Form Joan had left school and was taking a secretarial course. England was in the middle of a recession. Business was bad and Arthur lost his job. But a good friend of the family who was reputed to have become a millionaire in America came over on a visit. He was shattered to discover the straits the Hewetts were in, and insisted on making Arthur a large “loan” – just in time. After a long search they found a house in Bexleyheath behind which was a small single storey factory. To Arthur’s delight he was to set up for
himself again – the fortune was just round the corner. He bought two enormous machines with which to manufacture – print, colour and cut out – the precious show-cards which packed flat but could be assembled into a three-dimensional standing advertisement to go on shop counters – “Players Please” – “Stephen’s Inks”, or was it “Steven’s Inks”? – and so forth.

Joan could work as the firm’s secretary! Bill, at fifteen, was given the option – to stay at school and try for Matric. or leave and work as his father’s salesman. You can guess which he chose! Peter was left behind in Hammersmith with friends to take his Higher School Certificate and try for university.