Sep 211942
 

Monday
Glasgow
Dearest,
Back to the days of hurried notes again! Still, you should have had a decent letter by now. Yesterday, after I had written you and Michael, I had an orgy of letter writing as it was the foulest day we have ever had. I went out for a break at night to the Naval Centre, got lost in the blackout and wandered for about 10 minutes before jumping on a tram. In that short time the rain soaked through the uppers of my boots and I got my feet wringing wet. I feel very light hearted as a result of this weekend letter-writing frenzy for I have written Hughie Ross and Jack Patterson (to acknowledge 5/- from the office comfort fund), Fred Stephens, Geo, Bert, Eric and Mother which, in addition to yours and Michael’s is not bad going as I wrote about 9 pages to Fred and 7 to Bert and his family. It is always difficult writing Bert for one never hears anything from his family and yet you cannot just ignore them, especially as he signed the letter on behalf of them all. I sometimes wonder if that’s why he writes so seldom. In addition to all those letters I still have eight or nine to write and that figure doesn’t include anyone in the office except Algie!
Mrs Gardiner seems to have had a run of bad luck all right. What I cannot understand is that, as she and her mother hit it off so badly, why she ever came to live in Morningside. So you are having a spot of trouble over the allotment? I’m surprised that Maron [??] didn’t give you the pick of his allotment, especially as you gave him the plants, but do you think it may be because he hasn’t seen you lately? Or do you think Mrs Bradley has been hinting.
Thanks for the news about the letter. I won’t risk posting any more there. Charlie got away on Friday afternoon and arrived in the middle of lessons this morning having been held up on the train, so he had a good alibi. Another lad tried to fiddle his way to Manchester, made a mess of it, had no liberty ticket, had his name and number taken and so we are all waiting to hear what is going to happen. There is still a chance of him getting away with it for his father, dreadfully worried, bought him a return ticket and he has gone to the station here to try to square it. If he was only taking a risk for himself it wouldn’t be so bad, but there is always the danger that he will shop everyone and the class leader might very easily drop in the soup over it, even yet. These clever lads annoy me intensely with their utter selfishness and lack of consideration for other people.
No, I didn’t hear the announcement about wives’ allowances. If you can do something that would bring in a quid or so a week it might be very useful to you. What are the chances of you writing odd things for the ‘Echo’? You should, you know. I hate you not to keep your hand in. And talking about allowances, I hope you get the doctor’s bill paid.
Miss Rollo is a very tall woman with a long horse face and she is a big shout in the Girl Guide movement and a County Magistrate. She is a sister of Col. Rollo of Grayson Rollo Clover Docks. She gets a name for being very human. I’m sorry to hear about Mrs Johnson’s continued worry. That husband of hers should be kicked to death for leaving her to worry about all this.
Now I will have to go. The start of the eighth week, sweet. Only another five with a bit of luck. We have not heard anything official but the instructor who is on this week seems to doubt whether we will get an extension. In any case it can only be a few weeks now. Take care of yourself, love, and, please, do have vapours punctually this month!
Bye, precious, I love you.
Ever your own,
Arthur X