Wednesday
‘Bootle Times’ office
Dearest,
The difficulty about writing this is that Norman is within half a yard of me and, office manners being what they are, I should not be surprised if he is reading this. I almost hope he is because it will teach him a lesson! As I have not indicated to whom it is addressed he will be none the wiser.
When Monday and Tuesday passed and no letter came I began to wonder what had happened. I had almost begun to think that one of your complications had come along to monopolise your time and I was thinking of coming out to Hoylake in the dead of night to surprise you with a strange man in your virgin(?) bed. Would you have liked that? The visit, I mean, not the strange man! Anyway, your letter did not arrive until this morning and we have been up to the eyes in work today, so I could not possibly get a reply back to you.
I am afraid there is no office scandal, except that there are rumours that we are to have a new office. I believe the firm has purchased a house in Ariel Road for this purpose, but mum’s the word when you come back. Norman is still very randy and seems to get worse every day. Philip is still the same, making great plans for his holidays when he swears he will be a real devil. I’ll bet he goes so far as to kiss a girl before he leaves the island! That is, of course, if he finds someone really forward who will almost do the job for him. F.H.S. has again commented on the fact that your holidays are nearly over. Isn’t he a nice kind sort of gent? By the way, he has written to your beloved brats about rats this week. I suppose he feels he must uphold the honour of his clan.
So you miss me, do you darling? Sweet of you to admit that to someone you so constantly accuse of being the most insulting person you know. Still, you’ve no idea how much I have missed you this week, and I was only sorry I couldn’t come over again on Sunday. The great drawback, if I might say so, is that the conventionality with the family occupy too much of the flirting hours when we have so little time at our disposal. What about a day at Freshfield soon? The trouble on Saturday was that I wanted to stay, too. And you don’t know how near I came to doing so. If I had done so, I’m very much afraid both of us might have been doing a little sleep walking, but we wouldn’t have slept for very long, would we, darling?
By the way, when I come on Friday – that’s only a day after you receive this, thank goodness – remind me to tell you of a suggestion about Chester and to show you some literature, but don’t mention the latter, or either for that matter, in front of the family. I think both these things will interest you. At any rate, I hope they will.
So your mother is beginning to doubt the platonic nature of our friendship? I rather fancy she has done so all along. Mothers usually do, but never having been a mother (though not without hope) you will probably know nothing of this, I’m afraid, and very much so, that you cannot guarantee that there will not be an early inquiry from the family as to my intentions. Or am I meeting difficulties half-way again?
We will forget about that for the time being and concentrate on the joys of life. Between now and my holidays we will have to think of some bright scheme to make things even better, but I must administer a word of warning. No vapourings during that week, please! That would be the last straw. If you promise that, I shall promise to take precautions against any gnats chewing more pieces out of your adorable body. I am sorry about that experience and even more sorry about not being able to comfort you by saying I had suffered similarly, but after all, dear, with such a delightful morsel as yourself close at hand, even gnats know better than to bother blunting their teeth, or proboscis, on such tough material as a mere male.
Tomorrow I want to continue the very intriguing discussion on the development of our offspring and the site of our ancient or modern house. The subject intrigues me beyond measure! F.H.S. has been to my desk for the fourth time in a quarter of an hour, and as Norman insists on seeking my assistance with a little low doggerel, I’m afraid I’ll have to give up and post this at once. Freddie is distinctly restive this afternoon and altogether the atmosphere of the office has been all against the type of letter I want to write, but I’ll be doubly nice to you tomorrow (Friday). I’m trying to bring the day nearer by considering this as Thursday! I noticed, on Saturday, that there are day excursions on the train. I may try that route this week, but I’ll let you know when I ’phone on Friday. Will you be ringing up on Thursday? You will scarcely be able to answer this last query, nor I suppose will I receive another of your charming letters this week. I feel I have been swindled, but still I drink, in office lemonade, to your bright eyes and happy times on Friday. Until then, lots of love,
Arthur
Apr 081936