Tuesday
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Sweetheart,
I’m writing your letter in bed tonight because it is already after nine and I’ve been on my feet all day. I’m not more than usually tired but it’s nice to be writing to you in bed, all comfy, with nothing else to do except shut my eyes! And if I do this now and again for heaven’s sake don’t get into your head that I’ve come to bed early because I’m ill or anything! If your letter is being written late evening it’s quite likely I’ll make a habit of this, for it’s a certain way of avoiding the evening attack of sickness. Looking after myself, that’s all!
The party went off well and as usual I found it far less exhausting than Wendy’s. Officially it was for males only, but, for various reasons, I included Cynthia, Valerie, and Isobel. I left these invitations fairly late to avoid other complications. The few boys seemed such a handful, not a proper party at all. Cynthia would have been coming to call for Wendy for Brownies at six in any case. Although Mrs G quite agrees with my idea of simplifying things by keeping Michael’s party to boys, she always gives him a present, and I always wish she wouldn’t because it makes me feel sore about not asking Val. Also it’s a bit awkward borrowing chairs from there when I haven’t asked Valerie! So, there being good reasons for including these two, I asked Isobel so that Valerie might not be left high and dry when the other two girls went at six. No doubt there is some bad feeling in the Perry and Threlful camps but I just couldn’t have coped with that rabble today. Another factor that made me include the girls was the certainty of Wendy not having even an apology for a party next April! So there were ten children altogether including our own, and this I found a nice manageable number – the Winters, Roy and Brian, Stanley, Johnnie, Cynthia and Valerie. It was Brian’s very first party – he’s two – and he was a scream. He doesn’t talk at all yet but he sat with a real sweet smile steadily pushing stuff back, and behaved perfectly. When Mrs Hawley came to take him home he pushed her firmly away and she had to leave him until the others went. As usual Stanley got right under my skin. In fact he was downright cheeky and I sat on him good and proper. But apart from that everything went off well. Your mother was here to see the start of the tea and was highly delighted when I lit the candles and cut the cake earlier than usual so that she could take a slice home with her. That reminds me – I saw Mrs Allen this morning and she did not receive your letter, so where it went is a mystery! Your mother got your letter this morning.
I enclosed two blades in the letter I posted today, and I’ll get your badges in town tomorrow so if they’re not enclosed in this letter it will mean they were out of stock.
I seem to have answered last night’s second letter except to say I’m looking forward to seeing the buttons and ribbons. The ribbons will be handy for baby clothes! Now I’ll go on to your Welsh letter, which had done some wandering. Although that was the address I was given several letters were sent to Caernarvon first and the secret seems to be to write “near Mold”. I must say you’re terribly helpful on the subject of names!! You were very firm about one of your children having Arthur among its names but now you condemn it as some outlandish notion of mine! Why, oh why? Some time, please, love, make me out a short list of names you like. This is a thing we’ve got to decide between us before all the relations start having a shot! You didn’t say what you thought of Katherine. I would have this spelt KATHREN, not to be snooty but to avoid Kath-er-een which I loathe.
There’s no point in pursuing the apple subject any further. The best aspect of it is that it’s made a definite break with Peter. He must have got wind of the affair for he hasn’t been near here since. Don’t worry about Michael, I’ve got him well in hand. He’s really very good especially when I remember what a difficult child he promised to be. You always have these problems when a small boy gets in older and bad company. It was no use my telling Michael that Peter was not his devoted friend. He had to be shown and this business brought things to a head and finished an alliance that caused me endless worry.
Well, love, my eyes are closing so I’ll leave your second letter till tomorrow. I’m feeling the benefit of these early nights and I’m sleeping splendidly. Eight years ago today we said our first goodnight in bed. If someone could have told us then that on our eighth anniversary you would be serving in France and I would be expecting my third child, how black the future would have seemed. And yet it hasn’t been, has it? And even out of separation we have gained a great deal. And I know we have good years ahead. Despite your doubts I look forward to the post-war years with keen interest because, whatever else happens, it won’t be a time of stagnation.
Goodnight, dear love. Maybe next year I won’t be in a lonely bed. My sweet, I love you so much.
Always your own,
Stella
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Dear Daddy,
Thak you for the birthday card. I will braw a picture of my cran. There was a very cross pig at the farm called Johnny. We watched the farmer milking the cows.
Love from Michael