Wednesday
Glasgow
Dearest,
I have been getting some more of my letters written and dropped a line to the children and Mother last night. I’m also sending Jane an airgraph today, and that will leave me with about four or five other letters to get off to various people. Are you going to drop Mrs Perry a line before you go home? It might be as well. Perhaps she would light a fire in the house on one or two days just to keep the place aired. I must try to remember to get the elements for the gas fire fixed up, too, and then you will be able to make sure that front room is reasonably warm and dry this winter.
Last night I saw Alex Brown for the last time and he tells me that his wife is pretty well set on the divorce. He went home unannounced last weekend and the other fellow called while he was there. Alex got to the door first and gave him the noble order of the boot! What a rotten position to be in. I did feel sorry for him.
This last couple of days have fairly dragged by. When I woke today I simply could not get it into my head that we still had another day to go. Somehow I was convinced that it was Thursday.
It’s now dinner time and I have just had your letter and the first from Mother since I came away. She says the children are full of beans and are always talking of us both. Anyway, here’s the letter for you to see for yourself. Your letter was a great tonic to me because I think you have struck the only possible mental outlook for convalescence. And because you have done that, I think you will make more progress. I have always thought the mental approach to illness is even more important than medicine. I’m glad, however, that you have got some bynin amara and you must take it regularly. If you do that I’m sure you will be a lot better. When you get home I think it might be a good idea if you were to take another course of your green pills. They last a month if taken really regularly and at the end of that time you should be a good deal better. Ever since I got your first letter I have been of the opinion that you might just about be fit to travel by the time I get to Limedale. When I write you about coming home, will you ring Peggy, or will she have been in before then? It might be a good idea to ring Dave that day and tell him when you will be home and perhaps Mrs Perry will put a fire in the house for you. She could also get a loaf for you so that we can have a meal when we get in. Anyway, I’ll leave it to you to do as you think best. Peggy’s number, by the way, is Gt Crosby 3174 and should be used after 5 o’clock.
Well, sweet, I don’t think there’s a lot more news. Some stupid sod has pinched one of the P.O. typewriters and there was talk of us being held up until it is found, but I don’t think there is any likelihood of that. There has been quite a stink about it, as you can imagine. It’s a damn shame because the instructors have been so decent in letting fellows get away early at weekends. Still, it is by no means certain that it is one of our lads who is to blame.
Now, love, I must be off to school again. I will only get one more letter from you before I get to London and if we are only to be there a day or two I won’t get any others before I’m home. In the meantime you will be making a little bit of progress each day and you’ll be lots better when I do see you. Now, sweet, I’m really off. All my love, angel, and do take care. A little steady progress each day is what is wanted. I love you, my sweet.
All my love.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
Oct 281942