From Arthur to Stella: ‘I sometimes stop dead in the middle of the day to wonder what you are doing’

Wednesday
Aberdeen
Darling,
There is an accumulation of your letters to be answered and I’m going to try to answer several of them tonight, but not the two long ones with all their lovely passages or I will go into a coma again and never get anything written. There has been a big enough gap in my letters as it is. By the way, I catch the 9pm post each day. Will you try to let me know when you get my letters? I’m afraid there’s likely to be quite a gap from the time they are written until they reach you. There is no possible chance of writing during the day here so I cannot get them into the post any earlier.
I have just re-read about five of your letters and you set me longing to see 45 again with all your descriptions of the advent of spring and the departure of the blackouts. How I should have loved to see those daffs with the sunshine on them in the hall. We went out to a park on Sunday, as I think I told you, and saw great bunches of daffs growing. They did remind me of you. To get back to the blackouts. I found them the most depressing part of life in the lovely summer days when I was at home. It will be the height of summer when I do get leave and the thought of walking into a light house makes the prospect even more delightful. You have done well, sweet.
Now about insurance. You say you have to put 5/9 a week away. I make it 5/10. I’m not quibbling, but as you asked me, there it is! About money in general, don’t forget to cash those postal orders. They’ll be invalid if you keep them too long. Cash them and bank the money. You are quite right about the phone. If the Special Grants people check up in a few months you want to make a point, without stressing it too much, of letting them know that you are economising where you can. I thought the electric bill very reasonable for the winter quarter. It was less than you expected, wasn’t it? You ask in two of your letters if I am bored with your little domestic bulletins. Darling, as if I could be when I sometimes stop dead in the middle of the day to wonder what you are doing. Every little thing about home helps me to feel a little less isolated from you. One point does worry me, though. In re-reading your letters I found that in about every one of them there was a reference to Michael either being naughty or else to his being ill. Poor old girl, you’re having a thin time, aren’t you? I do wish I was at home with you when I read those incidents. I could at least guarantee that there would be less to worry you. I hope he has improved both in temper and in health. I worry about you a lot on this score.
While I remember it, do you think you could pay special attention to my clothes? Don’t let the moths get at them will you, sweet? New things are going to be so expensive when the war is eventually ended.
Now, about Wendy’s birthday. I’ll do my best to telephone (you haven’t told me yet when the phone will be cut off!) some time on Monday evening before she goes to bed. I can’t make any promises so don’t say anything to her because the phones are likely to be mad busy then with it being Bank Holiday. I got a card for her before I left Skegness so as to be certain of having one and I’ll post it some time Saturday. That should make sure of it arriving. What have you done about a present? I hope you have been able to manage something for her. I’m looking forward to hearing how the day goes off. I hope you’ll be able to manage them all and how I do wish I could be there.
Have you heard anything from the school yet? If not I should go along and see them on the day they re-open after the holiday.
Well, darling, I think that covers all the points in several of your letters. I hate leaving items unanswered. Once again, many many thanks for your long letters. They gave me new life. Oh my darling I love you so much that these last few days have been very trying but gradually I have got a grip of myself and have now disciplined myself to face the inescapable fact of no leave. It’s not been a cheerful business and I have no doubt I shall have lapses, but in the meantime I’m forcing myself to work hard. The point is that to get leave I have to pass the final exam and if I allow myself to be distracted too much now by the immediate prospect it might make all the difference between getting through and failing. So I’m working hard. We have started our actual course as I think I told you last night and so far it has not been too bad, largely because we can more or less please ourselves here. It will be different, far different when we go to the other college in a couple of weeks’ time. By the way, we go to school on Good Friday here. The Scots don’t observe it as a holiday. That will seem strange to most of our lads.
I’m going to close now, darling, to get this into the post so you should have a reasonable letter delivery this week. Writing is much more of a problem here than at Skegness. Precious, I do love you and think of you at lots of odd moments trying to think what you will be doing. And I see you in my mind’s eye and mentally  follow your every movement, some of them so characteristic of you. I’m in that mood tonight when, as I think you wrote in one letter, I just want to say “I love you, I love you” over and over again. Because, amazing as it may seem, I do you know. Yes, darling, I love you but now I must go and post this or you may not know that for another twelve hours! Just as if!
All my love, angel. I’m all yours. Night night.
Arthur X