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1940

7th Dec 1940

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 7 DEC 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., King’s Arm’s Hotel, Barnard Castle. Durham.

Albert House, Colne.

Wednesday.

My dearest Ronald,

Your letter arrived by this afternoon’s post, and since then has been pressed against my bosam – or should I say my apology for abosam. Never mind I’ll be a fine buxam woman one of these days!

This blotting paper doesn’t blot. Very stupid.

I think Geoff & Co. are complete worms to cover my poor letter with such stupid remarks. Anyway, I am glad for the bit about the eggs, because that made look obviously not  a love letter!  You are a mucky pup playing such a filthy trick, and eggs are 3d each. I’m afraid you will be paid back in full – so you’d better not have your tunic cleaned yet!

I love you Ronnie, more than ever, and I wish I could give you a squeeze right now.

What I simply can’t understand is your enference to leave in April. I thought that your March leave was to be your embarkation leave, and that you would be abroad in April. Well I simply can’t follow all this mucking and messing about. Don’t tell me you get a week before you go South and a week before you go abroad. It doesn’t make sense Angel Boy, and is far too good to be true.

No, I don’t think we’ll get to St. Andrews as it is a long way to go for a short time, and is an expensive business. I am not bothered – as long as I am with you.

Yes, I’ve a feeling the India tale is bunk. I suppose if you went to India you would get no leave at all for the duration. It is such a long long way away, though you’d be safer there wouldn’t you? Anyway, it looks as if it will be France. Oh dear, what a life. Wherever it is, I can’t go with you – except in Spirit.

I am feeling very bored this evening and in the mood for the flicks. Marj is going to first aid and Moué is going to the flicks tomorrow so doesn’t want to go tonight so I am going to the Hipp by myself to see “Serenade” with Jeanette Macdonald and Lew Ayres. I don’t expect much, but I just feel I want to go out. If you phone when I’m away I shall be sore distressed. In fact, I shall be bitterly disappointed. Still I don’t think you will phone.

We had a very pleasant evening at the Alexanders. The dinner was good, and it is not the sort of house one need feel on pins in! (Badly constructed sentence)  We came home about eleven and Tom walked as far as the town hall with us. He is a real nice lad you know, and quite amusing. He was telling us about the time he ate 5 shillings worth of chips during his school days.

I haven’t been out at all today which is unusual. I couldn’t be bothered taking Prince out this afternoon, it was such a dirty and dull day. I went to sleep for about half and hour instead, and felt fine after it.

I started a “best seller” this morning which is lousy. I’m afraid I haven’t much interest in it. I don’t seem to get that exultant feeling over writing these days. Disappointing, but it can’t be helped. Perhaps it will return when I am middle aged, and not feeling quite so fluttery over you. Don’t take that I will have ceased to love you then, but I’ll probably take it a little more calmly. Besides an unmarried woman has not the same chane of writing a really good book as a married one, for she hasn’t lived entirely. A woman who knows wifehood and motherhood has a far greater insight and understanding. Mentally and physically she has reached her peak. So you see I am to be even more intelligent and beautiful than I am now.

After that speech, I really must away, my dearest dearest Ronald.

Goodnight Angel Boy, and God bless you.

All my love,

Kathleen.

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