Wednesday
London
Dearest,
Better now? You will, I hope, have had your first decent sleep for two or three nights by now, and at least you should not be suffering from night starvation! I’m looking forward to turning in early tonight and getting an unbroken night, because this weekend I repay my three days.
I called in at the office for half an hour on the way to the train and saw Bill, but though Hughie was in the building I missed him. Old Tom Benson, who must be very nearly 80, was there doing early night duty, but he has failed a good deal. He has that transparent look people have when nearing the end of their tether. There was no real news from the office as I was only in for a short time.
I went into the club, too, but again was not there long – about half an hour. Vic Slack is doing the job I had and somehow or other is not looking his old self. Looks a bit bloated and not so restlessly volatile as he was. You know the way he could never keep still. He gave me the impression of having had a shake up in some way. Muriel has mumps – the worst case the doctor has ever seen! George was not there as he had just begun holidays with the grandson on the beach at Southport. Durham, you’ll be glad to know, now has his third pip, so if you should write don’t forget he is now Captain. I’m glad he is on a par with Elgar. All the lads gave me a great welcome, even those I don’t know very well, and Alex Critchley the [Conservative] M.P. for Edge Hill with whom I had a real nark some time ago, went out of his way to come over and speak. He invited me to have breakfast with him when we got to London (he had a sleeper) and it cost him 5/- which delighted me! What is more, I made a date with him and he is going to take me over the bombed House of Commons today at 2.30. For some time now I have been going to tie him down to this, but I should have liked to get in to the place where the House now sits, but this is almost impossible as there are only 12 seats for “strangers”. I’ll tell you about it when I write next. Winston is to speak this morning, by the way, which would have made an interesting memory.
There is still no sign of leave, but so many of the S.W.S. [Shore Wireless Service] blokes now have their people evacuated that some of them want to go into three watches every weekend so that they can get away regularly once a month, a whole watch at a time, which could have been done long ago but they turned it down once when the northerners were agitating for it. I have grave doubts whether it will come off, but I hope it will for we would know just where we stood then. Jock Fraser, the bloke who came up to Liverpool with me, has suggested more than once that we should be in three watches permanently – work three weeks and off for one. But that is far too revolutionary for Jackie!
Incidentally I nearly missed the train. We got seats with difficulty for the train was packed, and at Rugby I decided to try for some tea. I got three of those cardboard drinking cups and as I was coming downstairs from the canteen heard a whistle blow. Spilling boiling tea over my fingers I began to run, got to the bottom of the stairs and saw the train 20 yards away and gathering speed. I yelled to a bloke to open the door, dropped the tea, sprinted like hell and just scraped on board!
Yesterday I was passing Swan & Edgar’s and saw some dolls in the window and it made me think that, even if you haven’t been on holiday yet, it is time to look around for Xmas. They had toymaking outfits for 6/11 which looked as if they contained material for three patent leather animals. It occurred to me that Wendy might do two things at once – try for her toymaker’s badge and make presents for people like Christian at the same time. What do you think? Is it too advanced for her? They also had a kitchen set there but no price on it, but it struck me as an idea for her. I think that Michael would like a tool set this year, don’t you? Let me know your ideas on these things please, love.
There’s been no alert for nearly 24 hours! Tom Oliver and his wife and little girl had a narrow escape yesterday. They had been wandering round a local park and decided to sunbathe in deck chairs. Rosemary fell asleep on the grass when Tom heard one coming rather close. He looked up to see it diving out of low cloud directly at them, so he picked Rosemary up and tried to get her behind a huge oak but had to throw her to the ground and cover her with his body before he reached it. He says he had only one thought when he looked over his shoulder and saw it thirty yards away, and that was “I’ve bought this one”! He was so preoccupied with that thought that he doesn’t remember the explosion! However, it DID explode and uprooted trees, threw stones and earth into the air, killed the deck chair attendant, but not one of them was scratched. It’s amazing isn’t it? I’d hate like hell to live permanently in that place. He says Brian is trying to get a transfer to one of the other branches, and if so he’ll get Vera and Rosemary out of it.
Before I forget, there were two things I left behind. A tin of Tickler which I last saw on the mantelpiece and which I would be glad if you would put somewhere cool for me; and my identity disc which is, I think, on the bathroom windowsill. Will you find a little box or something and send it to me by registered post, please? I hate to be without your chain. Funny how I have got used to it, probably because I feel your arms go around my neck every time I put it on.
It was a nice weekend, wasn’t it love? A very nice weekend, even if I didn’t get done all I had hoped to do – but then you never can in such a short time, can you? These flying visits have only whetted my appetite for a more leisured leave and I do hope we will get nice weather for it. I wonder if it will overlap your holiday time at all? Well, we will have to wait a bit to see about that but meantime, thanks for all you did for me, angel. You were very sweet to me, but then you always are!
Look after yourself, sweetheart. All my love to you and give my love to the children, won’t you? Bye now, angel, and be a good lass for a few weeks.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
Aug 021944