Wednesday
London
Dearest,
Many thanks for a second letter, written and posted on 24th, which arrived yesterday and which Jack Gray brought out of the office for me. I’m sorry to hear that the after-flu feeling still persists and I hope you’ll soon shake it off. Anyway, I’m glad to hear that you are taking the precaution of getting to bed reasonably early, if only for the fact that it will build up your strength for the weekend.
Did you have any luck with the ration card? I can see why not, as the coupons they take out are not dated in any way. If there’s anything on it you don’t really need for yourself, you may be able to draw a bit which you can swap with someone else. Anyway, here’s the current one. One thing I may be glad of some time, if you can get it, is a packet of washing powder, but I’m not overworried about that for the moment.
If I can remember, I’ll get my bathing costume out of my kitbag one day between now and the end of the week, but I don’t want you to take any chances you know. We might get the children to try swimming properly now, though Michael will probably still be a bit chary of it despite his threats to go down the slide. I’ve got the arrangement clear. I’ll look for you on the platform near the front of the train and if you are not there then I’ll pop along to the refreshment room, but I think you can take it that the train will be pretty prompt these days. I do hope there’s no last minute hitch at this end and that we get a couple of days like today – boiling hot!
So the hamoock is still popular? I’m glad. Do you bring it in each day? One day when I’m home I’ll plait the nettles in a tiddly way and scrub the hammock itself. They come up beautifully white, you know.
Who could have pinched “my” raspberries, I wonder? I’ll cut the fingers off them if I catch them.
The Compton Mackenzie mob certainly have the blessing of the unpredictable – if blessing it is!
Well, love, there’s nothing new. We had a very quiet doodlebug day yesterday. The siren went just before midnight, but I heard nothing until about 4 o’clock when I was wakened by a fairly loud crash, but I don’t know where it dropped. Yesterday afternooon I went to Kew – never so nice in high summer and even the roses were past their best. However, I spent a pleasant couple of hours lying on my back and daydreaming of you! All the things you have done and will do this weekend! Lovely, angel, lovely. I had to come back to earth, however, and came on to Fleet Street to collect a pair of shoes which had been repaired in 24 hours for me, and in the Street I skilfully avoided Vernon Brown. I met Jack Gray for tea and we went to see a show put on by the American Army Theatre Unit – ‘Mr & Mrs North’, a comedy murder thriller. Quite well done with a very attractive and efficient young actress (Dorothy Primrose) in the lead and Sgt John Sweet, the soldier who turned down the offer of a film career after his performance in the Canterbury film, in one of the minor roles. He had little scope but was quite good. I went to see the Coward film ‘This Happy Breed’. In it John Mills has been promoted. He was only an AB in ‘In Which We Serve’, but in this one he is sporting a hook as a fully blown killick!
Well, sweeteheart, I must away and feed me at the Toc H. Bye for now and look after yourself until Saturday. I do hope it is a blistering day. Put in a bit of swimming propaganda with the children, will you, though not too much in case it is a bad day. Give them my love and tell them I’m looking forward to seeing them on Saturday. Don’t forget we’ll have to be back at Lime St about 8 o’clock to catch a bus.
All my love, darling. We’ll get out for a drink on Saturday, too, so will you leave my flannels and things all laid out on the bed for me, please? Bye now.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
Jul 261944