Monday
Chiswick
Darling,
I haven’t been home yet, although it’s now 11 o’clock, so I can’t answer any points which there may be in your letter and I’m afraid there’s very little news today.
I had a letter from Hughie yesterday, forwarded from Cookham, and he tells me that Alan is home and eating all before him. Madge, glad as she is to have him in the house again, finds it difficult to keep her hands off him when he orders this and that in his peremptory hospital manner! Still, they must be glad to have all those journeys to and from the hospital every day cut out. What a strain that time must have been on both of them.
Hughie, as usual, writes a newsy letter of all the office activities and how all the lads are faring. Cockburn, who was worried stiff about going into the services, is even more worried now. He’s had his medical and has been graded 4! A specialist says it’s albumen or something. Co always worried about himself at the least little thing that went wrong. Poor Helen will have a hell of a time with him, I should imagine. Dick O’Sullivan, who lost the first finger on his right hand many years ago, is hoping that will keep him out. But I have my doubts. Monty Taylor is still there, large as life. And that, I think, is all the office news.
There’s not a great deal more to tell you. Charlie Mitchell is bringing his wife down for a week, on Friday, and they are going to stay at the Union Jack married quarters. The charge is 4/6 a night, but whether or not that includes breakfast I can’t say. As there is a nursery, she is bringing the little girl down – she’s three – and leaving the baby at home. Seems a bit of a weird arrangement to me, but there you are. Jack Gray, too, is in hot water with his wife for not writing home and she got so worried that she sent him a wire on Saturday! Apparently, it was about this time last year that Jack was in hospital and as she knew he had a cold she got worried.
I’m getting right down to typical woman’s gossip, aren’t I? It’s not often I’m so short of news and views. There is one thing I nearly forgot to mention. Jack said, yesterday, that they may come home if I do, but that if I stay here they will definitely stay. Dot, however, has not said anything and as she seems to wear the trousers in this outfit it might be as well not to say anything until you hear something from her. By the way, I know you are mad busy with Xmas looming up, but if you can spare a few minutes to write them a note, it would probably be appreciated.
While I’m in town I think I’ll try for a theatre ticket today. I’ll let you know tomorrow what luck I have. I’d be a lot more enthusiastic about tickets if you were here to share them! Oh, sweet, why wasn’t I one of those skimping, scratching, saving kind of men? If I had been, we would be able to afford all these things, wouldn’t we? Another interesting point in Hughie’s letter is that there is the usual doubt in the office as to whether they are going to get ”IT” this Xmas. I can well imagine all the arguments! Well, love, I must away, in search of riotous living in London’s theatre-land.
All my love, sweet, and I hope Rees will be satisfied with the progress you are making when you see him on Wednesday.
Bye till tomorrow, angel. I love you still.
Ever,
Arthur X
Dec 071942