Sunday
Aberdeen
Dearest,
Another week gone! Tomorrow, which you may not have noticed is the 13th, we begin at Torry. In many ways I’m not looking forward to it because of the tales we hear from the lads in the billet, but I have no doubt they are exaggerated to a large extent. Anyway, they seem to get by without a great deal of trouble. Still, there remains the unalterable fact that I have to be at school at 8.15, which is a decided wrench after the last fortnight of starting at 9.30. This time next week, perhaps earlier, I’ll be able to tell you more of it.
We had to go to church today. Wot a to-do. First of all, as we were newcomers, they hadn’t got us sorted out, with the result that I got mixed up with Baptists but, I know not how, eventually arrived at a Congregational Church! There they chose hymns of which I know the words but not the tunes, which annoyed me. Then, in the middle of the service the siren went and we all adjourned to a room in the basement, which only goes to show how small the congregation was. Anyway, the service went on and on. Then they produced an infant for christening, adding a few more minutes to our period of incarceration and we finally got out about 12.25 which put me in a bad temper. This business of church parade is getting more and more strict as they gradually find out the various schemes the lads devise for dodging it. For instance, many of the boys got into the habit of going to the parade and dodging away en route or at the church door. Then one Sunday there was a roll call at the church itself with dire results for lots of the lads. Now most of them have decided that it is not worth all the trouble of trying to get away with it. Another burden we have to bear is a weekly inspection at this church parade and today this new Admiral himself turned up. Incidentally, he is the first bigwig to pass me without a word! I’m almost hurt!
Did I thank you for the full description of Wendy’s party? If not, I meant to do so because I enjoyed every word of it and sympathised with you in all the little trials and tribulations you must have had to bear. I’m sorry about the Cynthia business because she is a good kid and I hate to think of her being hurt, as she must have been. I hope it won’t make her feel a grudge against Wendy. She might, because you know what kids are. Do get it sorted out with Mrs Reid and, if you like, tell her I’m disappointed in her.
Have you seen this week’s ‘Bootle Times’? Mother sent it to me and I was surprised to see that someone you know well is married again. The last person in the world I should have thought would marry a second time after his unfortunate experience. Guess who? John Kinley! [Labour MP for Bootle, 1929–1931] Yes, you are right, to Lily Thorpe. If what you have always said of her is true, he is going to have his hands full for a second time. I do hope not. Marriage, of course, may make an enormous difference. If they do enjoy normal relationships I can see Lily Thorpe putting on weight, becoming less dynamic and, generally speaking, changing a great deal. I do hope John is lucky this time. God knows there is no one I know more entitled to a decent break.
In the same issue of the ‘B.T.’ there is a reference to WING COMMANDER Peter Mahon of the A.T.C. – that’s a sort of cadet organisation. I rather think I have mentioned this to you before, but it still makes me retch. What hope is there for the alleged Labour Party with this poppycock going on? I’d like Kinley’s views on that! It’s very seldom I worry about politics these days, and I can see that when peace does come there’s a grave danger of me giving up any interest I had in such things, but now and again when I see items like that I flare up in spite of all my good resolutions. The Labour Party, I’m afraid, is doomed after the war although they will no doubt poll more votes than ever. I wonder what organisation the Socialists will have? What a pity there is only a handful like [James] Maxton and Campbell [Stephen], and what a pity, too, that when the break occurred years ago Kinley was forced by economic circumstances to break from the I.L.P. rebel group. Well, that’s all on that subject.
We kept our promise to ourselves and Percy and Ralph spent the weekend away from their studies. We went to the Saturday matinee of ‘Hatter’s Castle’ – if we had waited for the evening show we should never have got in – and in the evening had just a few beers, not many. Today, after dinner, we went for a walk starting at the Bridge of Don and going over the Scotstown Moor towards the sea and coming out again at the Bridge. A very pleasant three hours walk during which I thought of you a lot because it is within easy distance of the town and might make quite a pleasant little walk for us one evening. Whatever else you do, you will have to bring a good pair of walking shoes when you come.
There are two disappointments in store for you, I’m afraid. For one thing, as I may have told you, I have been unable to find a bunch of heather within convenient distance of here. There are some good substitutes, but they would not add to your already long list of experience. More important still, I think, is the fact that although my bellbottoms are even now showing a distinct interest in this very delightful prospect, they simply are not intended for this particular form of outdoor recreation. You will appreciate that when you see them, but when I think of the complaints you have made about a pair of lightweight underpants, I cannot see you being satisfied with my performance in uniform. And I don’t think I dare risk taking them off completely, even for my adorable wife, because that might mean 14 days cells just at a time when you were within reach. Sweetheart, what an awful calamity that would be!
Oh my darling, I do love you and there’s a delightful coma on the horizon. Do you know – perhaps you do! – it always WAS the left breast I used to fondle. Oh why did you tell me of that dream? Sometimes I think of the hundreds of nights when I have had you to myself and there have only been you and I in the whole world. Even those hundreds of nights have not satisfied me. Never can I be satiated with you. And yet, darling, I always have this comfort – we have made the most of our lives together. Even when we were single we had some delicious moments, didn’t we? Oh darling, darling, why didn’t I meet you years ago? Still, as I say, we have done reasonably well in the time we have known each other and not one moment of it would I retract. Even this separation has, somehow, brought us closer.
When I got to the end of that page I DID go into a coma. I could feel your cheek under my fingertips and the silk of your eyelids under my lips as you turned first one eye and then the other to be kissed. Sweetheart, my own, I want you. I want to hold you close, to sit in a big comfy chair in the half light of the fire with you on my knee. To feel the gentle swell of your thigh in your silk stocking from just above the knee. To have just you in my arms while time stands still. You once wrote you would follow me around the house when I came home. Well, we will be going in circles because I will be following you. What a sight for the children! Angel, I have tried to visualise our reunion on Aberdeen station but just can’t. I wonder what will happen? You talk of stepping from the train into my arms. I don’t think you better had. I might lose complete control of myself there and then. Perhaps the best thing would be for you to give me your case. No! Bring two cases, then I’ll have both hands occupied. I MIGHT be reasonably safe then. Often I wonder if our self-control will stand the strain of that first minute.
Precious girl, I love you. God help you if you were here tonight.
Sweetheart, we must come down to earth and I to my lonely couch must hie. Before I do, will you be sure to answer these two points in your very next letter? (1) Can you travel up here on a Friday morning – arriving Friday night? (2) If you can, do you think you could manage, say, May 1st to May 11th (that is, leaving here on the Monday morning) or May 8th to May 18th? These are, of course, only tentative dates, but they are the earliest possible weeks I can think of and I want you here at the very first second. Don’t bank on these dates, will you? I still have to find out about possible digs and that will take time. Last night I met a sailor and he said the C.P.O. at Torry is very decent about fellows sleeping away from the billets when their wives come up here, so that seems hopeful.
I met another cheerful sailor yesterday, a real old sweat, and he believes that so far as Germany is concerned this war will be ended in the next couple of months. Can’t say I agree with him, but it’s nice to meet even stupidly optimistic people sometimes. What a vision that conjures up! If only it could be so! And now, angel, a wash, a shave and bed in readiness for Torry in the morning. Be good until May. I do love you.
All yours,
Arthur X
Apr 121942