Tuesday
London
Dearest,
Yesterday was one of the perfect days. The weather was absolutely glorious so Jack Gray and I decided to have a day out. We went up to Hampton Court and began by having a look at the famous chestnut grove in Burley Park. They are in full bloom now and we caught them just at their loveliest. There’s no doubt this is a wonderfully lovely country in spring and early summer, a thing I never realised until I came down here. We had a cup of tea and then did something we have been going to do for a long time – made a tour of the buildings, starting with the kitchen and beer cellars. You can only go through the rooms in a certain order and the snag is that there is only one way out. We were right in the middle of the building at the most interesting point of all – the great hall where Henry used to have big eats – when Jack Gray decided it was imperative to go to the place within the meaning of the Act. And the nearest was nearly ten minutes walk away! The result was that we didn’t bother going back again, but wandered round the grounds instead. The lawns have been newly cut and a lot of the flower beds were in bloom. The formal sunken garden was really lovely – you know the one in the walled off area near the great vine. By this time Jack was feeling a bit tired so we had a laze by the side of the canal and were very amused to watch the antics of a drake. Every time a duck or drake came down on the water within 30 yards of where his mate was feeding, he would take to the air and drive them away. What surprised me was that another pair of mallards came paddling along a good 20 yards away. The drake took flight as soon as the bully appeared on the scene, but the duck dallied a bit, squawking warnings to her young ones. I was very surprised to see her leave them and quite expected to see the bully drown them, but he was content to drive the parents away. The two ducklings, only tiny mites a few days old, looked very pathetic as they piped their way to the old lady.
Incidentally, while I was lying there I got one or two gnat bites and I didn’t discover them until I got home, when I wished more than ever that you had been with me, for you always manage to get bitten in such interesting places, don’t you? Remember the day in Bracken Lane? What a day! It doesn’t look as if we will ever have a day like that again, does it?
After we had had a rest we set off for Kingston, walking diagonally across the outer portion of the grounds, where the deer and sheep are, and at Kingston went into the Y.M. for supper. When we got out we thought we were getting on a bus for Richmond, but instead it was going to Hook and we were half way to Epsom before we knew it! It was just as well that we found out when we did for it was getting rather late, but we picked up a bus which took us through some rather nice districts straight back to Turnham Green, where we just had time for one beer. And so home, where the day was made really perfect by your very nice letter which was waiting for me – almost as if you were there waiting to say “Had a nice day, love?” as you always do.
It WAS a nice letter, love. Somehow it seems ages since you made love to me in a letter and even longer since you did it personally. Now, if we still had the phone I could wake you again occasionally, couldn’t I? Mind you, I always found those phone conversations a bit one-sided because you found so little to say in the three precious minutes! Anyway, angel girl, it’s nice to know you miss me and that even a sight of my crag-like countenance would do you some good. Don’t worry, dearest. I shan’t need any urging about getting on the first train. I’ll be there alright. And, darling, I doubt if I shall have the patience just to sit and be adored! Don’t you? Arriving home at the time I do now, of course, makes things rather different than when I got home either late at night or in the early hours of the morning. Wouldn’t it be nice if there was an air service we could use for coming home on three days. At this time of the year it is light enough for non-operational flying from about 5.30 a.m. to 10.30 p.m. which would mean we would have quite a few extra hours together, especially as the trains are so uncertain. Oh well, there’s no point in all these “ifs”. As you say, we have been very good lately and at the moment there is no prospect of us being able to relax at all. In fact, despite the apparent calm, the next few weeks are very very uncertain indeed.
Now, love, I’ll answer your letter. I’m glad to hear you have been able to get some more work done in the allotment, though I know it is slow work clearing the ground again. With that gooseberry bush, you should be well off for fruit bushes next year. Rhubarb, rasps and blackcurrants should give you quite a bit of bottled stuff this year, and if you get some gooseberries next year you should be doing quite well from our own stuff alone. If you haven’t already done so, I should give the blackcurrants (but not the gooseberry) a light mulch of manure. Really it should have been done in the autumn, I think. By the way, how is the rhubarb lasting out, and have you bottled any of it while it is fairly young? If you haven’t, I should do so without delay before it gets too stringy.
About Littlewood’s fence: if they ever do decide to put a wall there and they come into the plot to do it, they will probably have to do some excavating to lay the foundation of the wall. If ever they do, get them to move the whole of that bank, right down to ground level, for that will do away with a lot of the weeds in our own part of the plot and will save me a long back-breaking job, for they would load it all on to a wagon and take it all away. Did you, by the way, knock off any of their wooden boxes? Or were they too hefty?
Seeing that you seem to be well in with ‘Housewife’, there’s no reason why ‘Good Housekeeping’ shouldn’t fall to your pen as well, so have a go, love. As soon as I have an extra bob or two, I’ll pay a visit to Charing X Road and see what I can find. Sorry to harp on the cash side of things, but at the moment I can get through the week and have little or nothing over. This week we should get our monthly settlement and that will help a good deal. Don’t put ‘Picture Post’ out of your mind altogether, for if you can put up a good idea in article form which will stand some illustrations they’ll send a photographer down, you know.
Your point about my pen being “lucky” had not occurred to me, but I’m glad you think of it in that way. Funnily enough, just before Easter I gave Tom Oliver a very black pencil (a ‘D.P.’ one) for marking his race card and in two days he won over £100.
Without going into details, might I just say I should have known that (just in case) you would make sure of the sleeping(?) accommodation at Llanarmon. Nuff said, though September is a very long way off, isn’t it?
What other ideas have you for Timothy’s Garden? And have you heard from the BBC yet? One of the things I’m most interested in the ‘Housewife’ for is to see if they have used your sketches and, if so, how they pay for them. I’m rather surprised that they have not made any reference, one way or the other, to them. With them, silence most certainly seems to be golden – literally! How much are you going to pull in for the wireworm article?
Many thanks for the London letter. I had seen a reference to the closing of the “parliament” but had not seen an account of the “election”. The figures are very illuminating.
Well, sweetheart, that seems to cover your letter very fully. I’ve already told you the news of yesterday and there is little else to add. One thing which we heard from these new A/Ms will interest you. The people who relieved them at Freetown had previously been in “the frozen north”. Some of them were on foreign service leave when they were recalled for draft to Africa! And this while we were comfortably ensconced in Whitehall. Nobody at Chatham knew we were there or we should have got it! The gods were certainly watching over us that day, weren’t they?
Just one other thing. I can’t for the life of me think what you asked me to get from slops other than serge, which is out of the question. However, I have put my list in and there’s nothing on it for you. I have, however, asked one of the youngsters who has a fair amount of credit to get me a blanket. He can’t get serge for me because he is ordering a suit for himself. I think that’s about all, love.
It’s a nice warm day and I don’t know what to do with myself, but I will get out in the fresh air somewhere. I got a shilling ticket (which is 6d more than my ordinary fare) and that will take me round quite a bit. Possibly I’ll go to see the lads at cricket practice. Now I must get my dinner and resist a temptation to go off into coma-producing lines of thought. But, sweetheart, I love you and miss you. Bye for now, dearest, and all my love to you.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
P.S. Wot abart them there negatives?
May 091944