Good Friday
Aberdeen
Dearest,
First of all many thanks for your letter which arrived at dinner-time and the parcel which came at tea-time. As you say, there was a note in it! And that being so, let me get down to the main item at once. I can’t honestly say that your “threat” was unexpected, but there were several difficulties in the way so far as I could see, the chief one being the children and finance and in truly typical feminine fashion you ignore both of them. I’d be glad of some information on both of those points! I’m not raising difficulties but these problems are important, particularly the one about the children because, as you no doubt realise, we are going to set a precedent that may have repercussions later on. I know you won’t think I’m pouring cold water on the issue – if you saw the state of my bellbottoms just at this moment you certainly wouldn’t – but before you actually commit yourself in any direction let me know your ideas, won’t you.
On the money side of things, don’t forget that all the cash we have is what you have and we are not likely to be able to add to that while the war is on and at the moment this looks like being another Hundred Years War. I will eventually get some leave, you know, and we could do with a few spare bob for then. Anyway I have no doubt your letter discussing all these points fairly fully will be here in a day or two. Just to show how much I expected this proposition from you, I can tell you I had thought of all the points you suggest some days ago! And, young woman, I’m going to do nothing at all about it for at least ten days or a fortnight. The reason is this. At the moment we are attending a civilian wireless college at the opposite end of the town from the naval training centre which is called Torry. Now we don’t start at Torry for about another ten days but it is from there that I will have to get permission to leave Aberdeen for the weekend. As we have only been there for one day so far I propose to leave this matter until I find my way round a bit. I have asked one or two fellows in our billet about the matter before you announced your intention of forcing your company on me(!) and the only result was a welter of confusing statements similar to those we had in Skeg on all sorts of subjects. This time I propose to find out definitely for myself. And at that I think we had best leave the matter. Oh no, there is one point. I was thinking in terms of Whit weekend. You see this week church parade is voluntary and school is closed on Monday – we have been at school all day Good Friday – so that we are free from Saturday afternoon until Tuesday morning. If the same position arises during Whit we would have three nights together in which case something else MIGHT arise! Could you guarantee it, do you think? I wonder! No I don’t, you’ve done it already. There must have been bromide in something at Skegness. Don’t worry about the mountainside sweetheart, this place is lousy with them, but don’t forget the evidence, will you?
Another thought has just occurred to me. Have you enquired the fare for the children? I was thinking that if it is fairly reasonable and we could find somewhere fairly cheap you might all come up for ten days – giving us ten smashing nights and two weekends. I might be able to find a little place within bus distance which would make it worth the risk of sleeping away from my billet, although I would have to go there for dinner each day. Anyway, think that over and let me know what your ideas are. If the extra fares are reasonable, it might be worth while because I don’t suppose the cost of the children’s digs would be very great and I should only have breakfast and tea. Don’t forget that I have to be at school at 8.15 so there will be little chance of really late nights during the week – such as pictures etc – but it would make a good break for you. Another point: ask Eric if there is any likelihood of him coming to Scotland any time. Anywhere in Scotland would do if he was here during a weekend, as he might easily be in the course of the summer. It’s worth saving £3-15 if you can, you know. Anyway, make your mind up to the fact that we will have to wait five or six weeks, but with something like definite date that won’t be so bad as the wretched uncertainty and fluctuating hopes and fears of the last three weeks. Still another reason for waiting that long: in four weeks we have our first exam and, if we fail in that we are bound for Skeg poste haste and the stoke-hold of a ship about five weeks later! I don’t think we dare risk the distraction of your lovely self in that period. Sweetheart, I don’t know what I’ll do when I see you. Probably crush you to death. My darling you are doing things to me at long range. And what things. The Sundays you mentioned when I followed you all round the house were child’s play to what will happen when I come home for seven full days. Nice, glorious, heavenly as this weekend will be, it won’t be quite the same as good old 45 where the whole atmosphere is permeated by you.
Sweetheart, I have fought hard to keep myself in hand and sometimes I have felt almost unfaithful to you by being so ruthless and almost callous with my feelings towards you, but if I had done otherwise I should have gone to pieces. I feel I owe it to you and to myself to get through this course successfully and your distracting self helps not at all, damn you. You make it twice as hard but I love you for it. Thank God I have never felt, as one of the fellows here says he feels, that if he had to start again he wouldn’t get married because of all the little things he has had to give up. Darling you are a pest, but such an adorable pest. Tell me, by the way, how vapours will fit in with Whit! All I know is that had I come home this week it would have been ideal, but beyond that I’m all at sea. Can you give me two sets of barred dates – you know the sort of thing, say 16–20 April and 20–26 May or however the confounded things work out. As a married man of five-and-a-half years standing – I like that word – I never can work it out.
Well, precious, here goes another letter and I’ve not even begun to answer so many of your letters. I got the two addressed to the R.N. unit today after they had lain at least two days at Torry; another letter at dinner time and a note in a parcel at tea. My lucky day, isn’t it? I feel I have you all about me today. What a lovely aura you have, darling. So comforting, so warm, so permanent. One of the nicest things about having married you is the feeling that always and forever you are there waiting for me. Darling, the thought of it makes me positively conceited. Just now, talking to you, I feel as rested as I used to do when, on Saturday or Sunday, I leaned against your knees, or laid my hand in your lap, or cushioned my face against your breasts. Oh, precious, there never was a phrase quite so expressive as “sweet con”. That’s what I am now and there is a little pulse in John beating steadily because of you, just as if he were ticking off the seconds until he meets Mary again. What a glorious reunion that will be. We’ll need stacks of evidence. Lorry loads of it. My precious, I can feel a coma mood just on the horizon so I must stop. When I look up from this writing table the lads are beginning to wonder what is the matter with me. To think none of them can feel about anybody else as I feel about you. The poor eternally damned souls. Now I MUST stop.
I’m posting Wendy’s card tonight to make sure it arrives on Monday. I forgot about Mother’s birthday, and couldn’t get a wire away. Hope you sent a family card. Now about all your other letters. I’ll never be able to catch up with them I’m sure, so if there any immediate points you want answering which I don’t deal with in the next week, will you make a list of them in one of your letters? Do you know I’ve written to nobody but Dot and Mother since I left Skeg. Has Eric got this address?
Two minutes for the post. Thanks for Durham’s letter. Bye now, sweetheart. Need I tell you I love you? Damn you. All my love, ever and ever,
Arthur X
Apr 031942