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1939 pre war

26th Aug 1939

Numbered 111. Postmarked CUPAR FIFE 7.30pm 26 AUG 1939
addressed to R. Helme Esq., 34, Albert Road. Colne. Lancashire

The Manse, Kilconquhar, Fife.

26th August.

Dearest Ronnie,

This is the second attempt. I blodged the first very badly. Did I write you a short, short note the other day? I didn’t think any of my letters had been particularly short. I might add, without grumbling, that as a rule, my letters are longer than yours these days.

I retired to bed yesterday with a temperature and a few aches and pains, and I am still there. But I suppose I shall be o.k. very soon. I can’t imagine why I am ill. It must be celebrating the anniversary of my appendix pain!

Your remark that you were glad the weekend at Bridlington was cancelled was typical of you “I wanted to see Burnley v Coventry City, the latter being the dirtiest team in present day football.”  Good old Ronald! You are really rather unperturbable, aren’t you old boy? I wish I could be, because it’s a help. Maybe I’ll be able to cultivate it soon now.

Unfortunately I missed my golf lesson yesterday, which was too bad as I had done so well the first time. But Moué has made one for me on Monday at 11.30 and one on Tuesday at 6.0 – so it looks as if I am determined to be better by then.

I don’t see why Bert Haighton should think of getting married as Crewe(*) is no distance away, and if he’s to be in this country all the time, it makes a great deal of difference, doesn’t it? You seem to have the worst time. As Ian Reebie(*) said “just like rats.” It seems difficult to know where you will go exactly. Poland, I suppose.

Well, anyway, let’s shut up about that.

I am now in the room that Joy and Moué had when you were here. Moué is still in the same place. The hens cluck all day long, and I heard the cock crow at five o’clock. There was also an owl making merry.

Oh well. I can’t write more as the rest are going out for the afternoon, and as the maids are out, there will be no way of posting this unless it goes with them. I’m sure you will be horrified by this terrible unloving note and beg you not to be hurt about it. And to remember that I do love you, and that it is my nature to be stupid. I shall be with you soon I’m sure – if I have to trapse through Europe. All my love, your puney, Kathleen

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