Mar 031942
 

Tuesday
Skegness
Dearest,
So you had a bad day on Saturday! Too bad, but you do strike days like that every now and again, don’t you? Sorry you missed Eric and Lilian. I can’t understand what has happened to the letter I wrote him last week. I think I told you I wrote him care of the office and asked them to forward it or return it to me. I received a letter from Eric today, with a 5/– book of stamps, and apparently the only news he had received of me was my last letter to Mother, which she sent on to him. It’s annoying because I wrote about nine pages to him. If you should be writing them in the next day or two you might mention it, although by then Eric may have been to the office and picked it up there.
I have had a letter from Mother today and I guessed, from the tenor of that, that things had gone very smoothly during the weekend.
Regarding what you have heard about our visitor while I was in sick bay. You are only one short in that number you heard! How the news travels. You know me better than to think I’m trying to keep anything from you. In any case, I didn’t have any idea myself as to the content of it until after I came out of sick bay. You will remember I asked you to remind me to tell you what the lads had been doing while I was off sick. Well I’ll tell you when I come home, not in a letter, which is liable to censorship. Compared to what we had in Liverpool, the whole affair was nothing. One bomb!
No, the dentist has not done his worst, yet, although I’m expecting it every day. Nearly everyone in the class has been to the dentist’s chair except me. There’s no hope of a temporary set and I’m still wondering whether you’ll love me as much in a real gummy state.
What a practical young woman you are these days! I think the changes you have made in the bedroom are a big improvement. I can well imagine just how much the children “helped” in taking the packing case upstairs. If you want wood for a shelf, have a look what there is in the garage. I remember the willow patterned curtain quite well. Wasn’t the inside lining torn? I’m glad you are finding so many things to do. They will all keep your mind occupied. I’m not looking for work for you, but can you think of any way of brightening up the living room?
From what you say about the shoes, you are going to need the “very generous” allowance you referred to in your letter about the old gent. You have no idea how that letter bucked me up. One of the great troubles, of course, is that the leather in shoes is probably very inferior now to what it used to be. Crepe sandals are very limited in supply now, but I believe there are still some to be had. I should get hold of some as soon as you can and before most people are thinking of summer wear. Manufacturers are not allowed to make any more but they can sell those already cut. It might be as well to pay a little more for leather shoes, if only as an experiment. Of course, the children are more active now than ever they were and children are proverbially heavy on shoes.
I object to being told that I am always ignoring your questions when I have made a habit of going carefully through your letters at the weekend and answering your points one by one – or at least the most important of them. About the ‘Statesman’ – I have acknowledged those you sent and which I am reading. Will you please continue to send it? I think I told you in my last letter I called on Ted Kidd on Sunday and in a previous letter I pointed out that Durham would have to come over soon, or we would be away from here. That settles, for a second time, two of your questions. The fellow I met from Liverpool I only see very occasionally as, after the first night, we were put into different classes when we were all sorted out.
Now, about the people in my “little house”. One is a fellow of my own age, a bank clerk, married and expecting their first child. He comes from Halifax and, for a bank clerk, is surprisingly dumb. He is quite a good fellow, yet always takes the line of least resistance. I can never imagine him taking any real responsibility. That is Gibson, variously known as Gibby or Don. The other laddie is Harold Forman (Harry to me) and he is the youngster on the left of the trio on the photograph. A lively youngster and, like so many lads, impatient to be up and doing. In civvie street he served in a Co-op shop in Derby. A very nice lad, who has all his wits about him and who is a constant source of surprise to Gibby, who regards him as a young marvel. Gibby, in fact, comes very near hero-worship of him. Harry is delighted because I have taught him ‘Sweet Fanny Adams’ which he is going to sing to the Derby Home Guards! We had an abortive air raid siren on Friday night and spent about an hour and a half in the shelters, singing at the tops of our voices. Harry and I led the lads in ‘Fanny Adams’, which bids fair to be a real favourite. There were other songs, bawdy and otherwise, including ‘Danny Boy’ and our own song about Butlins Navy.
Must close now. Many thanks for sending Jane’s letter and many, many more thanks for your own sweet letter. You’d back yourself against a ton of bromide, eh? I’d sooner you backed yourself on to me. I could do lots and lots of things to you tonight and any night, pet. I’ll go mad if it is a vapours week when I come home! I couldn’t bear that. All my love, sweetheart. I think it must be a post-V week with me too. I do love you so.
Ever yours,
Arthur XXX

P.S. Hope Michael is getting better. Will try to write the children later in the week, but it is Commodore’s rounds this week and we are likely to be very busy.