Thursday
Chiswick
Sweetheart,
I’m so sorry about your birthday! I do want kicking, don’t I? All along I knew that two anniversaries – your birthday and September – didn’t fall on the 12th, but for the life of me I couldn’t think of the 16th. Precious, I’m sorry if it hurt you, but you know what my memory is. I’m afraid I can only apologise and explain that you didn’t get a letter on Tuesday because there is one in the parcel of course! And I thought I was being so clever arranging the posting so that it only arrived one day early. Poor old girl, I’m so sorry.
Today is the first of our “second” days on duty and I’m getting ready to go back for 1.30. We finished work at 3, were up soon after 9, and are due back on the job at 1.30 until 8. Then up again at 3 and work until 9, by which time it will have dropped to exactly 3 weeks from leave. So time is passing, love.
While this business of long hours is on I don’t suppose there will be a great deal of news because I’ll spend nearly all my spare time sleeping. However, I’ll have to try to follow your advice and get some fresh air, which I am really missing a lot. Laziness is largely to blame, I suppose.
And talking of fresh air, we might get some one night down near the river, as you suggest! I wonder if that same gateway is still there and, if it is, whether it can still be approached or if it is barricaded off. We’ll certainly pay a visit to The International, for even if we don’t get to that doorway we’ll find somewhere in the neighbourhood. Just a warning about The International, though. You are not likely to enjoy the atmosphere there these days, for that type of pub, so close to the docks, is generally full of pros! Anyway, we will call in because we can always go elsewhere and I’ll do my best to graze my knuckles in the approved style. I wonder if, after all these years of luxury, you will find outdoor oats – in that position, anyway – an anticlimax? We’ll settle the question once and for all, anyway.
I didn’t realise that night starvation was upsetting you to the extent of making you feel so badly about everyday things like the weather. My poor old girl. Still, just hang on a bit longer and I’ll do all in my power for you then. Just the thought of holding you once more is, at the moment, almost enough, for even now I can feel the warmth and virility of that dear body held close to mine and I can feel the flood of your love enveloping me in a deep sweet peace. You mean so much to me in so many ways that I don’t know how I ever managed without you, and even have to have you out of reach, hundreds of miles away, is infinitely better than not having you at all.
Last night I spoke to Eric on the phone and the great thing in everything he said was that you are looking better. In fact he thought that in some ways you were looking better than ever before. He seemed to think this treatment was doing you a lot of good.
Well, angel, I must away. All my love, Stell.
Ever,
Arthur X
Jan 141943