Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 15 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut R. Helme, D.W.R. Church House, Norton, MALTON. Yorks.
Albert House, Colne, Lancs.
15th March.
My darling Ronald,
I have been feeling very lovable all day, so I hope that you will find this a nice lovable letter. I think it must be M/D in your letter that has put me in this mood. I took me a long time to think it out just as you thought it would. Truth to tell, it took me till about eleven o’clock! A very sweet sentiment my lamb.
I have taken my large sum of money from the bank so that when I have a bit more I can put it in the building society. It amounted to five pounds twelve shillings. What a sum. You see my beloved, you did a queer and unprofitable swap – me for W.B!! Of course, I am a much nicer girl.
Oh dear, I am feeling sick. I have eaten too many prawn sandwiches and cream cake! We’ve been eating the remains of a ladies tea party. Mrs Rankin, Miss Goasdale and Mrs Macauley have been in. In fact, I don’t know whether they’ve gone yet.
Now the wireless is on, so I shall probably be writing tripe again. A programme on France – our Alie etc, etc!
Beloved, I do hope you get leave at Easter. Easter, heavens, that is nearly here. If everything is ok I shall be seeing you soon. Aah, how wonderful. I am longing to see you, and it already seems a thousand years since I saw you.
Oh dear, I wish this wireless was off, because though it’s interesting, it prevents me from consentrating. And I did want to write you a nice letter tonight.
The play last night was very enjoyable I thought, and the acting was really good – better than usual. Elsie Robinson was excellent as Emily Brontë. Of course, it was a sad play, and they all died in lumps. Actually, only Emily collapses on the stage. I saw your Mother was there, and she didn’t look very happy, so I do hope she enjoyed it.
We are going to Manchester on the nine o’clock tomorrow. What an unearthly hour, but as the big shops shut at one, we can’t so well go any later. Dad has asked me to go to Walker & Hall’s to chose a silver tankard for Dr Macauley while Marj is in Kendals. So – . I hope my taste is all right. “Of course it is darling.” Thank you.
We’ve got five bob seats for the matinée. I wish you and I were going on our own dear. Till you are coming home soon – I hope. Oh how I hope.
My uniform hasn’t come yet. Isn’t it terrible. I am going to write to them tonight because it is a week late.
So Donald is now talking about marriage. Well, well, I thought that would happen. All these people. I’m afraid it makes me jealous. Wait till Geof. gets wed. That will put the tin lid on it! Never mind, when we get married, we will have a lovely wedding and plenty of lovely peaceful things to look forward to. Already I have reached the Stage of thinking of things I want for our house. I hope your taste will coincide blend with mine.
I hope no one gets this instead of you. I am grieved that you haven’t got that letter back yet. Would it be better if I wrote to your billet?
I didn’t have my face done at Mrs Morans the other day after all. I had my hair washed and set and cut, and she sure has cut a lot off. I feel quite naked now, but it doesn’t look too bad. My face is improving with home treatment.
This reminds me to ask you if you are looking after your hair and your teeth. You know I do worry about you. I neither want you to be bald nor toothless for a long long time yet, so bear that in mind next time you think of skipping your teeth! Prescious, your teeth are nice and you’ve got to keep them so. Also your hair. I bet you haven’t washed it for ages – so do so. I’ll send a shampoo. Geoff would say, “She’s wearing the trousers again.” On the contrary, I am definitely wearing the skirt, and wanting you to look after yourself because I am not with you to do so.
I am just thinking of your photo – the full face one. It really is lovely, and I am longing to have it in the bedroom. I’ve so glad we went to have it taken again. It was well worth it.
{pencil} My pen has run out, and the ink’s in the surgery. Confound.
I paid Podmore’s bill today – at last. I could pay my bit before but Mum couldn’t pay hers.
I don’t know quite how I shall pay for my day in Manchester tomorrow. I can’t use any of my five pounds because Dad expects me to keep that intact. Well, I suppose I’ll manage somehow.
Huxom is very annoying, I find. So do the others, so it can’t be just me. He has such silly ways somehow, and yet he tries to be clever. He tried to be clever with me yesterday at tea, but I afraid it met with no more than a cold stare! As I was feeling kind and good deedish on Tuesday night and offered to play draughts with him. He was very pleased and I felt rewarded for my trouble; but heck, he is one of these bally clever divils who quietly murmers “stupid” when you make a silly move, and supersiliously puts your man back for you. Ooh, I could have punched him. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll feel so gooddeedy with him again! The one person he does get on with in this house is the old girl. They pay cribbage together nearly every night. But they don’t seem to use any of the terms you and Geoff are always saying!
I think Huxom’s chief trouble is that he’s a Mummy’s boy. He is a twerp, and evidentially some of the patients call him The Black Diamond, Charlie Chaplin and Hitler. Poor Man!
Oh darling, this isn’t a lovely loving letter after all, but I assure you that it is written in a very loving mood, and that if you were here I would make you very happy. I am feeling cuddlesome and sweet tempered.
You should have see me smiling to myself when I found out what M/D meant. It was like the dawn!
Who would think that at this minute I am feeling sick and headachy through overeating? Yes I am a pig, but I do like prawn sandwiches and cream sponge.
For some reason I am becoming very quiet at meals. Retiring into myself or something. I just can’t be bothered talking much what with Granny and Hux. Dad said I was looking very aloof at lunch. That is just how I feel somehow. I just retire into my little world of you and me and find it much more pleasant there.
Do you know, I love you. I think you are just the dearest nicest fiancé, that you will make the kindest most loving husband, the sweetest and gentlest Daddy and the cutest old Grandad! That my Angel Boy , is what I think of you.
With these few words my treasure I will close, and hasten to the post, thinking as I go of all the kisses and cuddles and caresses that I am going to give you when I see you.
All my love dear heart,
Kathleen.