Thursday
London
Dearest,
You will probably find that all my letters now will be written in the open air so I hope you’ll make allowances for the calligraphy. As a matter of interest, this one is being written on Turnham Green which, as you will no doubt remember, is not at Turnham Green at all, but at Chiswick! Having got the geography straight, let’s answer your letter first as I’m behind time today. As soon as Jack went out I set to and washed three flannels, a jean and a pair of socks; then bathed, shaved and turned in. I didn’t get up until 3.30! Naughty lad, aren’t I? But I must confess I felt tired out. I’ll be okay providing I can get a solid night’s sleep, although I expect the blasted sirens will go again. Jerry seems, from all accounts, to have settled down to his old programme of nuisance raids every night. From what I can gather there have been a few odd bombs within measurable distance of here, though so far I haven’t seen any of the damage and I can’t say that I’m going out of my way to find it! Jerry must either be pushed for planes or else he’s saving them up for defence against an invasion or invasions.
Many thanks for today’s letter, love. I was interested to hear of the experience of Hilda’s sister at the hands of the Navy and so will Dot be. I’ll tell her when she comes in tonight. And, while I remember, I brought the wrong negative back with me. It was the blurred one, which is no use to anyone. Will you send me the one of Dot and Bobby? Dot thought the pictures very good, but said she looked like a drunk on that one taken in the ruins – and come to think of it, she does!
I’m glad you enjoyed leave so much, but we certainly can’t judge at all by the stoppage of vapours now! Anyway, you’ll know something fairly definite in about three weeks. How many pints do I get if we have rung the bell this time? I’m not surprised that you have not had sufficient energy to do a full day’s work on Tuesday! Whatever else happens, you certainly lose a lot of sleep while I’m on leave, don’t you?
I’m glad the kids are in their bathing costumes again. The weather here is absolutely scorching.
You seem to have made a lucky deal with Mrs Gardiner. Nice work.
Reverting to leave, one of the best features of it to me was that I spent more time actually at home, doing odd jobs about the place, but I was sorry not to be able to get at the very least one full day on the plot for you. Get rid of those piles of grass as soon as you can. Shake them up and turn them over with the fork every day for a week and in this weather they’ll be dry at the end of that time. There is a lot of soil on the roots, but if you can knock some of it off you should be able to turn the whole lot at this time of the year. Anyway, get rid of it, for it harbours pests. If the weather is anything like decent on my next leave, I will devote at least one full day to the plot, if not more. That should be at the right time of the year for clearing some of the ground where your early stuff has been. Let me know how the plot goes during the summer, won’t you?
It has just occurred to me that it’s just possible Michael will be at school, too, by then. Which means we will be tied to home more than before, for I don’t think it would be wise, if he has started, to break his first week or two, do you? We’d best let him settle down as quickly as possible.
You won’t forget to call and see Peggy as early as possible, will you, and make my apologies for me. It might also be a good idea to give Hughie a ring and ask him to keep those pads until he sees you. If you don’t do that, it may mean that they’ll lie in the sergeant’s office at the door for ages and then be knocked off!
Well, angel, I don’t think there’s a lot more to say except that I got a 5/- postal order from the office, which I’m enclosing as I feel I owe you a few bob, including the 2/- for Michael’s box which we borrowed. I’m also enclosing £2 to be stowed in the old oak chest for slops. If I keep it on me, it will melt away!
Now I must be off, sweetheart, or I will miss the post. Dearest, I love you so and it’s been a bit of a struggle to concentrate on work, but I’ve managed it somehow! The next three months, until we can start looking forward to the next leave, will seem fairly flat but, thinking of the woman who thought herself a widow, we certainly don’t know there’s a war on. One thing is certain, by the time leave does come, the war should have taken a definite turn so far as Europe is concerned and then we’ll see better where we stand.
Give my love to the children and tell them I miss them both a lot. Take good care of yourself, sweetheart.
Ever your own,
Arthur X