Numbered 109. Postmarked Kilconquhar Fife, 6pm illegible 39
addressed to R Helme Esq, 34 Albert Road, Colne, Lancashire
The Manse, Kilconquhar, Fife
24th August
My darling,
Oh dear, I am so worried. You seem quite cheery in your letter, but then, in the big things you are always a philosopher. I’m worried stiff about this crises, and wish I could be home near you. I hope to heaven nothing happens before I get back. And I don’t know what I shall do if anything does happen. Oh darling, it will be misery. I have given myself a headache with worrying about it already. I don’t seem to be a bit brave.
Poor Stanley is probably creeping about on tiptoe and talking in a whisper by now. He’s probably sleeping with his sword by his bed. It cheers me up to have someone to laugh at.
Adéle is singing softly to Moué’s accompaniment, and it is very pleasant. Why aren’t you here beside me. You could sing in half a dozen different keys, you could croon hymns – anything honey, if only you’d coe.
Daphne is really very nice, Ronnie, and I am finding her quite easy to entertain. She and I walked over to Shell Bay yesterday evening, and it was simply beautiful. The sea was very calm, and almost at full tide. It was dusk, and the lights were just going on across the water at Leven. Had you been there it would have been heavenly. I think Daphne was thinking of John, too. She will probably go there with him when he comes.
Prince was with us, and thoroughly enjoyed himself. He was chasing bats on the way home. You wouldn’t have enjoyed yourself, as the bats were batting about very near our heads. You sweet little baby! Ha ha. The bats were batting. I never thought when I wrote it.
Yesterday afternoon, Daddy took Mum, Granny, Daphne and me to St. Andrews. We had intended to go to Crail, but we decided to go on to St. Andrews. It was more or less just a run there and back. To think it’s not so long ago since you were there. I’ve been there often, but now I shall always think of you being there with me when I go.
Granny and Mum go to Glasgow this afternoon. We’ll miss Mummy even in the short time she’s going to be away.
Oh heck, there’s a terrible din going on behind me. Adéle and Moué are yelling Boomps-a-Daisy. It’s terrible. Prescious me.. Thank heaven it’s over now. I had to shut my ears. They are now doing “One Day When We Were Young” and I could weep.
I’m sure you can’t read my writing, and I know this letter is very disjointed. I am feeling confused. I wish a week today was here, and yet I don’t know what it will bring. Daddy says we are going straight home if anything happens.
Please forgive me for being so weary and hopeless. I think only of my great love for you. I could do without a lot of food and comfort, I could even live through an airraid I suppose, but I can’t live without you.
Yes, I’ve got the wind up, and I want you. Love me always, darling, as I know I shall always love you. There will be no one else. Forgive my lack of guts. All my love dearest, Kathleen