THERE’S  NO  PLACE  LIKE  IT

MARCH  1st.   1940

My Dear,
Howl as much as you want, holler like hell, if it helps.  But remember that Painless Extraction is a fine art these days and it doesn’t hurt at all really, and pain is purely relative, anyhow, and you will think so much about it that it can’t be as bad as you expect and perhaps it won’t hurt at all, if he’s got brown eyes.

She’s a nice person but one gets tired of Mrs. Brown’s company at breakfast, luncheon, tea, supper and in bed. In bed she’s most unsatisfactory, tucks herself up on her side and you wouldn’t know she was there. Miss Brown is better, she does snuggle close and sigh with love but she starts scratching as soon as you are dropping off to sleep, and at meal times she wants all the tit-bits. But I wish you’d come and control Miss and entertain Mrs. Brown for me. Miss Brown is in the study armchair, me in the desk chair and Mrs. Brown has just gone without so much as offering to clear away the breakfast tray, one hegg, two pieces of b & b and one glass of milk.

No letters to-day, one cricket one and yours. Tuesday? Ye Gods, TUESDAY!  I canna bide the wee-. ‘Sabloody fortnight, all same Cavey.

Yesterday I wrote letters and tried a Post leader and Eileened from 4 to 10. Then she went away hame and I sat and read awhile, a silly novel, and then bedded down. NO JULIAN YET, I’m getting worried. He hasn’t been in since I came back, and I didn’t see him on Monday. Where and oh where is my little cat gone ….? I do hope he’s all richt the nicht.  I call at the door a lot and leave it open for him. Dear sweet prodigal Julian. He shall have a party when he does come.  Bu If he comes on Sunday and the house empty? Horrible thought.

No more now, off to Alcester to open up the red Cross boxes, take the kettle, go to the Bank (Men’s Club) get some petrol for tomorrow etc…

Back again, and I’ve just taken out the good old faithful half a leg of (foreign) lamb.    Mrs. A. stroked it with vinegar before we cooked it and it does. I’ve been rash and done   some potatoes and I’ve put in a little tin of spaghetti as a real luxury, hope you don’t mind.     Cakey came but caught nothing and went off sadly, but looks forward to you coming next week.  Can I play in a darts match at the Nelson on Wednesday please? Please? All right, I won’t, if you think that my place is………. No, of course I don’t mind, no, not a bit of it,   nicer at home, putting up shelves…..

Why can’t I come up tomorrow for din-din? That’s what I want to know. Why the evening?  Why keep me at, bay? Eh? Not wanted, I suppose, eh? Mrs. Squeegley better company, eh? Very well, but I shall come, for one o’clock and I can bash the door down.     1 o’clock. Up early work first, then work tomorrow afternoon at your place and in THE EVENING THE PICTURES BECAUSE I NEVER GO AND I LIKES A LITTLE PLEASURE SOMETIMES. Maypole or wherever you like best. Why not, us two, your Mam will be all right for two and a half hours. No Black Magic chocolate, though.

No more, the spaghetti’s just blown up so that saves opening the tin. I’m going to take Luncheon. Its 2.30. Mrs. A. has just come, she’s doing the bedroom while the din-din cooks and I’m in here, then she does this while I have my din din and then she does up the din din room and washes up while I come back to the harness. See.

Tomorrow at 1 of the clock.

Mrs. A. says Julian’s gone cat-a-howling and will come back, I pray so, dear magnificent prince des chats.

And
you
i
do
love,
Canna ye come back a Monday the while?                (Scotch)
David

                                    R O S E M A R Y
CO T T A G E
G R E A T
A L N E

FEBR.  26th. 1940

 My Dear,

Thankyou for two letters a long one and a little one, I have written to the Mail people as per carbon copy enclosed, with a stamped envelope with both addresses appended. Worth following up in case anything happens, but it depends how occasional the work is. No reason why you shouldn’t have a lot of extra money if you want it, even though we hardly know what to do with the money we’ve got.

Yes it must be a swine at 53, and poor you. But ballte on I mean Battle on, all will solve itself somehow and you’re coming back on Wednesday, this is awful an idle empty profitless life, Gwennie may have taken your article that’s our only consolation.

No posty today except your letters and one from my muther, who thanks us for the parcel and your letter and says she’s had “a bit of a cold and stayed in bed”. Poor dear,

Yesterday Godfrey and I dressed at noon, and received Uncle Jack over coffee in our dressing gowns, he was vastly amused. I told him the cricket club news. Then we drank a little beer at the Boot, and then we played chess and ate steak from 1.30 to four thirty. We then went to Redditch, dropped Mrs. A. and Gerald, and I took G. home, and had tea there. Then beak to Redditch for the A’s and back here.    I then spent the evening in the dining room in front of a little fire with Spectator, T.L.S., Observer and R.T. and then to Eric’s for half an hour and home, and bed.    Here I am. And I went down at 1140 to listen to Michelangelo, and it was 11.25. I arrived to hear the, closing announcement. Did you hear it ? Did anyone hear it ? I wonder.  Ah well, tis gone for good.

I’ll come up at 6 o’clock tomorrow, that right ? You’ll be busy till then and if I go earlier I’ll sit about at 53 and I’d better get some work done, I’ll leave here at  five, there you are, and arrive at 6. Eh ?

So the Committee has preliminarily met. Its a difficult subject. But if we dig her out of 53, whither goest she ? There’s only (a) a new house of her own, (b) Romsey and (c) here. (a) seems to be out of the fryingpan into the hot plate, (b)   seems to cause (according to U. Fred) a civil war and (c) is not suitable as our house is so small. I think that (b) is nonsense, they’re old enough not to behave like a pack of kids and Wards or no Wards they should bloody well be able to behave themselves reasonably. But I don’t know.

The main thing is to let you have an uninterrupted chance to enjoy your own life, it may not be uninterrupted for long and we should have the chance to savour every minute of it. You’ll have responsibilities enough of your own before long maybe. Emily’s going to have them.  Oh dear.

Tra-la-la, I must send off these scripts to the Promised Land, having licked Herbert into some shape or form.

And so my love to you, all of it, see you Tuesday. Where do we sleep ?  Shall I go home at night and return in the morning ? Or drive you back here willynilly after the party’s over ?

                                                         Bless you all,

ever your….