Postmarked GLASGOW 5.15PM 25 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Robin Hood Hotel, Newark. Notts.
43, Sherbrook Av, Maxwell Park, Glasgow, S.1.
Saturday.
My dearest Ronnie,
It was lovely to hear from you this morning, and you are a pet. I don’t know whether to post this today or not; but it would mean you would be sure to get it on Monday. I’ll see – .
I am still dwelling on last week which was heavenly, and I wish it was still to come. All the good things go so quickly, and the more I see of you the more I want to see of you. I’ll never get tired of you honey – never, never, never. I wish I had more chance of proving it to you.
I’m glad you are comfortable at the Robin Hood, and really I’m quite glad you are having plenty of hard work. Well, I think all the fresh air and exercise will do you a world of good. Keep in with the Major, because we want a CA very soon!
This morning Mummy and I went into the town and did a bit of shopping. Well, it was chiefly shop gazing! We went to the jewellers to have various things mended – Dad’s watch chain, Mum’s pearls etc; and to look at some gold signet rings for Moué. Mum is giving her one for her birthday on Tuesday. We are taking some on approbation.
Tonight T’Al and I are going to the flicks to see the Crazy Gang in something or other. I have never seen them, but hear they are good. On Monday night T’Eth and I may go to see the latest Bernard Shaw play: “King Charles’ Golden Days” or words to that effect! Anyway, it hasn’t been to London yet.
Granny is very very weak and has changed ever since the last time I saw her when she was bad enough. She isn’t down stairs at all now, and speaks very slowly and quietly. She thinks my ring is beautiful, and has heard that you are a very nice man. The poor old soul was thinking you would think her terrible not writing to you, but she is past that now. I assured her that you wouldn’t think anything of the sort. She is very pathetic, and makes you wonder how she’s allowed to live because she’s only half alive really. When I think of Granny Eadie and how spry and cheeky she is, it makes me ill. She has kept strong through letting others serve her all her life!
I have only one sleeve of your pullover to do now, but I have been fool enough to forget the rest of the wool. Anyway, I don’t think I’d have much time for knitting here. I’ll sew up the rest of it. I have started reading a romantic tale about Rome by F. Marion Crawford this afternoon.
Yes dear, you wrote to T’Eth – “a very nice letter”, and she has kept it!
I feel a long way from you here, but in Spirit my love I am very very near you. In fact I am in the Robin Hood Hotel, and there is no saying where I get to there. Being with you is just bliss, and I don’t know how I manage to exist without you. There seems to be a big hole inside of me when I’m not with you. Hurry up and make me feel complete again.
Oh dear, I saw some lovely furniture in Glasgow today, and some beautiful brass things. I have some beautiful ideas, and I’m just longing to get on with the carrying out of them. How I love you, and how homey I have become. Please be homey too.
What writing! My thoughts are making my pen trip up all over the paper, and this definitely isn’t educated writing.
Beloved if you were here, I would squeeze and squeeze you, and tell you in actions what I can’t really tell you in writing. Oh how I want you all to myself. All the time whatever I am doing, wherever I am, I am thinking how much you love me and how much I love you, and what a sin it is that we have to be separated.
This is a terrible letter I’m afraid. Very bitty and badly written, but my heart is in it just the same.
All my love darling,
Kathleen
P.S. We go home tia(*) something on Tuesday morning.