Mid September 1910
Dear Diary,
The strikes have been going on for over two weeks now and I’m starting to get a little worried. I really want to go back to work, but as my friends have organised most of it I don’t want to betray them. I’m just worried that I have got too involved with it all.
Late September 1910
Dear Diary,
I just can’t believe it, Mr Birling accused me of being a ringleader, and he dismissed me yesterday. He let everyone come back to work with the old wages except me and five others. Then when I pleaded with him to let me have my job back he laughed in my face and my friends just didn’t want to know. I can’t believe that I risked my job just to be popular, now I have no money coming in and no friends. To make matters worse, one of the foremen told me that I was next in line to be promoted to leading operator, and now I’ve completely blown it.
November 1910
Dear Diary,
My money has almost run out, it’s kept me going for the last two months but not for much longer. I’m confined to my room with no food, no friends and no one to ask for help. My parents died a long time ago and I don’t think I have any living relatives that would help me. I am so miserable, I just don’t know what to do with myself, I know I need to get myself a job but I don’t know where to look. To make matters wore I think I’m coming down with influenza, so I’d better brace myself for a depressing and lonely winter.
Early December 1910
Dear Diary,
Things are definitely looking up, it turns out that I was only suffering from a simple virus, and yesterday I got the job as an assistant at Milwards. The Manager said that they were already short staffed because of the recent outbreak of influenza, and that I came at just the right time. This is even better than my last job, being amongst all the beautiful clothes and shoes, it will be a new start for me.
Early February 1911
Dear Diary,
I got dismissed from my job last week, a rich girl complains for no reason and I get chucked out. It’s all right for them they don’t have a clue about my rotten life. They don’t even have to work for a living, they just get every thing paid for. Me on the other hand, gets thrown out of my flat and has to live in a small, grimy back room. I blame myself for most of it, I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Being almost starved is the easy bit, being alone and neglected is the worst. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, I hate myself, Eva Smith’s dead, from now on I’m going to be Daisy Renton.
March 1911
Dear Diary,
I met a wonderful man last night. We met at the Palace Bar and he said that his name is Gerald. He rescued me from this fat old man; I think his name was Meggarty or something like that. I went with him to the County Hotel and we shared some drinks and just chatted for a while. It was really good to just talk to someone who was interested in what I had to say for a change. I tried not to tell him too much about my past though, I need to make a fresh start from now on. He was really caring and made me feel good about myself, he even fetched me some food, (as I was starving). We’ve arranged to meet up in two days time. I really hope this works for me, and soon, as I can’t afford to stay in this shabby old room for much longer.
March 1911
Dear Diary,
I met Gerald again yesterday; he has kindly sorted me out a place to stay. It’s a room in Morgan Terrace, a big change from the rooms I’m used to. He even gave me some money to buy food and things, he’s just so great, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I think I’m falling in love.
September 1911
Dear Diary,
I knew this would happen eventually, I told myself not to get too attached, but it still hurts. I can’t believe I might never see him again, I shared some of the best times of my life with him, and now it’s over. I’ve decided that it’s best to move out of the room and I’ve saved enough money to keep me going for a while, I just need to escape somewhere.
October 1911
Dear Diary,
I’ve been staying at a seaside place for a month now, but it feels like a lifetime. I don’t think that I will ever have anything as good in my life as the time I spent with Gerald. I just needed some time alone to make it last longer (pg39).
November 1911
Dear Diary,
I returned to Brumley three days ago and the same night I met a young man at the Palace Bar. Some of the Local women had told me to go there to make some money, but it was a mistake and I’m not going to go into it now. This chap insisted that he walked me home and the next thing I knew he had kicked up a fuss and we ended up sleeping together. We were both quite drunk and it got a bit out of hand.
Mid November 1911
Dear Diary,
I met Eric (he told me his name) a few nights ago for the second time in just over two weeks. We had more drinks again, but this time we talked about ourselves more. We ended up sleeping together again and now I’m faced with a possible pregnancy. One of the girls I know says I have all the signs and I am really worried. I can hardly look after myself, let alone a baby. I know we don’t love each other so there’s not much point getting married. He’s not responsible enough and he acts like a child, so getting married is just not an option I’m willing to take.
Late November 1911
Dear Diary,
I told Eric yesterday, and he was just as stunned as I was. He thinks that taking responsibility of our problem is to give me money, but as I’m in no situation to refuse it just now I took it. He gave me £50 and he let slip that he had stolen the money from his dad’s work. I can’t accept any more though, and I’ve decided to stop seeing him. As I know that the money won’t last for long I’m convinced that I need to get help, in any shape or form.
March 1912
Dear Diary,
I decided to appeal to the Brumley Women’s Charity earlier today. I just didn’t want my baby to live the same horrible life that I have had. I first decided to call myself Mrs Birling, after all I am expecting Eric Birlings child but I think it was a bad move. One of the committee refused my case as though I had just made the whole thing up. That’s what I get for plucking up the courage to get help; it’s not hard to notice that I’m alone, friendless, penniless and just downright desperate. I wasn’t only interested in getting a little money, I just wanted someone to talk to; a bit of advice, sympathy, anything, a simple indication of concern would have helped a great deal, but no, not for Eva Smith, or Daisy Renton or whoever this nobody is. I’m not a real person anymore; I’m just a living nightmare, a failure. I’ve been turned out and turned down too many times. This is the End.
