Author: SH

Addressed to Ronald

Albert House, Colne.

29^th October.

My darling Ronnie,

Here am I lonely and unloved. Well, lonely anyway – and very much in need of a little cuddling and petting from you!

The great Riddough has arrived here, but I can’t be bothered going up to see him. I just don’t feel like it. So I’m in the drawing room all on my own. I like to be alone when I write to you because I can concentrate.

I haven’t packed a thing yet – though I suppose I have plenty of time. I wont be going till tomorrow afternoon as James has kindly said he would take us. Us being Mum and me. Now that the time has come, I’m not looking forward to it a bit. I guess I’ve had my own way too long now. I don’t think I’ll like returning to discipline a bit – even if it isn’t such strict discipline.

Anyway, 1 month isn’t long, and I think it will do me good. I wish it was nearer you, though.

To put the tin lid on things, I have had a pain during the night and all morning, which has made me feel very unsuited for hard work. However strong the will, the body has to go and spoil it. But I am definitely having injections when I come home.

I am missing you so much that I can hardly stand the thought of the ages I shall probably have to go on being without you. I can’t feel that it’s going to be a short war now, can you?

I am enclosing my photo (if I can find an envelope big enough for it) It looks a bit small perhaps – but I thought it would be a better size for you just now than a great big thing. Not very wonderful I’m afraid, but it’s me anyway. Please try and have yours taken soon.

How is your eye? I hope the inflammation has gone. I couldn’t do with your nice brown eyes being spoilt. Nor anything about your nice big body. So see and take care of yourself.

Mum, Moué, John Daphne and I went to the Queens last night to see “Brother Rat” Wayne Morris, and I can’t remember any other names. It was one of those Military Academy flicks, and was very funny in bits… There were a lot of soldiers in the picture house – privates of course! Nothing in your like Mr Helme. Or in mine.

I have been told this is the correct way to write on four sided paper – so I hope you can follow it. {front, back, middle left, middle right}

I forgot to tell you in my Friday letter how upset Granny was that you didn’t go to say goodbye to her. Oh dear, she was deeply grieved, and had been waiting for you. Why the old girl didn’t come down, I don’t know, because she was fully dressed. I said you were here such a short time that even I had hardly time to see you; and I soothed her down a little. She has predicted three marriages from this house soon – according to Mother. She says one is to be a double wedding. That, I believe means John’s and ours. That’s where the old bird’s wrong. I wouldn’t have a double wedding for anything. She actually went to the length of arranging the guests – or something completely wet. Sometimes I thinks she’s a little off it!

I’d just hate to have her at our wedding, wouldn’t you? But it looks as if she is going to go on and on and on!

Well darling, I’m afraid I’m just blethering, but you once said you didn’t mind that.

“Oh to be in Catterick now that Ronald’s there, for whoever wakes in Catterick sees the answer to my prayer.”

What is the answer? Ronald Helme, who looks so sweet and cuddlesome when he’s asleep in bed. I can still see you that morning at Kilconquhar as if it was yesterday – or better still today. Wouldn’t it be nice if it was today? But there are other days – far nicer than that, ahead.

…… Interruption. I have been to see Stanley. He has gone now. He is just brimming over with pride – in his great coat, which isn’t half as nice as yours. It is funny how when you were here he wasn’t half so puffed up as he is when it’s just us. He swaggered through the kitchen and into the yard. Then saluted so hard that it made him go red in the face – literally!

Well, I can’t expect anyone else to be as dear and nice as you – even though I suppose I do hen peck you a bit. I really will try to stop it because I don’t like hen peckers – and I do want to make you happy.

I am nearly crying because I want you so much. I’m hoping hard you’ll ‘phone tonight, but perhaps its very awkward for you at Catterick. Well Surely I hear from you tomorrow. All my love dearest, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.30pm 27 OCT 1939
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, A Coy, 1^st 6^th D.W.R., Jaffa Lines, Catterick Camp. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

28^th October.

My darling Ronnie,

Already it feels like a million years. And I must have said that before, because every time you go away it gets worse and worse. I can only pray and pray for the day when you will never go away from me again.

I hope you had a nice journey, and that the weather cleared for you. It cleared up here until this afternoon when John Daphne and I were on Pinnah. Then it simply poured. In fact it snowed for about ten minutes.

I had two fillings done this morning: one back tooth and the other a canine tooth – up behind though. You see you must be supplied with details. They weren’t so bad, and old Pa Ross was in a good mood, and chatted amiably about the Land Army etc.

Oh dear, I feel now that I don’t want to go a bit. Everything seems to have gone flat now you’ve gone. But I suppose I will enjoy it once I get going. My real fear is that you will be sent off to France soon – while I am there. Do say there is no fear of that.

I am definitely going to Askham Bryan evidentally which doesn’t seem to be any nearer to you than here. I’ll have to count it up properly tonight. Catterick and York never seem to be on the same map even though they’re in the same county! Matron said to Marjory that she did hope I’d be near Ronnie. I’m sure she knows I love you. In fact, I know a lot of people do. We’re going to get engaged soon, aren’t we? What did you reply to Margaret Manning?

I have nearly finished knitting you one mitten. I shall finish it tonight, and seeing I only started yesterday evening I haven’t done so badly.

Oh darling, I do love you, and there’s such an empty feeling inside me when you’re away. I don’t seem to be properly alive. Everywhere I go seems to have some connection with you. Everything I see, music – everything.

It is silly to be quite so pathetic when you are really not so far away. I suppose it’s the feeling of you getting farther away each time that bothers me. I shall be living to see you again. 

Remember me to Geoff. And continue to mother him. See he has his hair cut, his nails trimmed etc. I suppose he will decide finally when he sees my writing, that I sent those letters. I’m afraid I can’t disguise my scrawl. But I never expected to deceive you. I just can’t, can I honey?!

I hope I can write to you as often as I like while you are at Catterick because it does help a lot to write to you and hear from you. I know you are writing me a nice letter tonight – and sending me your T’s. I’ll keep them for you until you return to the Territorials as Major Helme V.C. Then we’ll get married and live happily ever after, with Donald and Michael, and the other wee thing.

All my love dearest boy – and I’m thinking of you all the time. Yours ever, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.30pm 6 OCT 1939
addressed to Lieutenant R. Helme, The Seven Stars Hotel, Barnoldswick.

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

6^th October.

My darling Ronnie,

Alas, I have been hoping you would ‘phone me yesterday or today – but so far the bell has been mute. As far as I am concerned, anyway. Maybe you’ll ‘phone tonight. Or perhaps you’ll come over? No, I don’t think so. Tomorrow perhaps.

How I love you, dear. But there seems to be such a little I can do to really prove it – except knit to keep you warm. Every stitch I knit is laden with love, so I don’t see how you can get hurt through a wall of love. I have just finished the back of your pullover.

Miss Clegg ‘phoned me this morning to ask if I would go and look after her six refugees while she did her shopping. So I went on for about an hour and a half. Most of them had colds, and I spent a lot of time wiping their noses. Then of course there was the inevitable trip up to the lavatory. Fortunately, the two boys did not ask to go!

I washed their hands, and left them sitting round the table waiting for their lunch. Then I went over to the W.V.S. to stain and varnish (both at the same time) the floor with John and Daphne. I had to go back again this afternoon to finish it, as the paint, or rather varnish, wouldn’t go quite all round. I stuck a bit on the door for amusement, and improved it.

Now I’ve got a headache, confound it.

I presume you are at The Seven Stars again – so I’ll send this there. I am going to will you to ‘phone this evening Ronnie phone, Ronnie phone, phone, phone… Yes you will. Come over soon, All my love sweetheart, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.30pm 2 OCT 1939
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F. Station, Yeadon, Via Leeds

P.S. I’m glad the W.A.A.F.’s weren’t too ravishing!

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

1^st October

My belovéd Ronald,

You are so cute I could squeeze you to nothing. I am un or is it in – discribably happy that you are coming on Wednesday. Also very pleased that you should of your own free will have made an appointment at the dentist. Strangely enough, I made a promise to myself this morning on my way to the library, that I would, either by forse or persuasion, see that you went very soon. And that, I should say is telepathy – lovers’ telepathy.

I have not yet phoned your mother, as the Surgery door was unsnibbed during my conversation with you, and a number of people had clattered. It was best, I thought, to get out of the surgery before any more arrived. Also, I wanted another cup of tea.  But I shall ‘phone tonight.

I don’t think I told you that Daphne and I went on to the W.V.S. place on Saturday morning. She polished chairs, and I amused myself painting the grate which was somewhat rusted. I made a beautiful job of it, and enjoyed myself so much that I have volunteered to stain and varnish the floor. We may start tomorrow. Daphne being the second volunteer. She really can work you know. You’d be amazed at the vim she puts into scrubbing and rubbing and swilling, etc.

I want to go riding soon, but I think I’ll wait till Thursday as I don’t want to be stiff for Wednesday. Besides, Sally will probably be somewhat lively, and I would not like to break my collarbone or anything before you come to see me!

Moué and I have just been into Miss Mac’s to buy some stockings, and her confounded animal took a nip at Sunni, and has given him a nasty wee cut on his eye rim. It looked far worse that it was, as his eye was filled with blood. But now that it’s bathed it’s not so bad.

I am sitting in the gloom, but I can’t be bothered rousing myself to black out the room.

Moué started at Burnley Art School today, and seems to have enjoyed it. Zoë was very charming to her, and went to lunch with her – and Irene Swire.

Well darling, I am so glad you are coming on Wednesday. You have no idea how these visits, and the anticipation of them, buck me up. Or maybe you have. How I love you. I am forever thinking of you.

I won’t write tomorrow. Goodbye for now. All my love, yours Kay x.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.15pm 1 OCT 1939
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F. Station, Yeadon, Nr Leeds

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

1^st October.

My darling Ronald,

It was so nice to hear your beloved voice on the phone this morning. I’m afraid this will be a mere scrap as I think the post goes a bit earlier than it used to on Sunday, and I simply musn’t miss it.

You will wonder why I didn’t start earlier then? I had collewobbles as a matter of fact, but feel ok now. I shall really have to have injections before I take to the land!

Angel, I shall come to see you on Wednesday D.V. I’ll make enquiries tomorrow morning – and let you know. You are quite sure you can get off? I’ll get the eleven o’clock bus from here. Of course, I’ve no idea where I shall land in Leeds, but I suppose I’ll meet you somehow.

I love you so much, I’d take the ‘bus to London for a sight of you.

Your pullover is growing and should be quite snug under your shirt. I’m doing it in ordinary sock stitch – partly to be nice and flat, partly because the wool doesn’t take well to a pattern, partly because it won’t show anyway. Also it’s quicker.

Dad, Uncle Stan, Daphne and I went to Blackburn yesterday afternoon to the big warehouse there – to order a bycicle, some tinned foods, some door carpets, etc. Quite a nice change.

In the evening, as you know, we went to “Lilac Time” and enjoyed it very much. The great Zoë Riddiough sat on our row with that girl that Hanson Halstead(?) took to Keighley dance – with a sergeant in the Royal Artillery each. Very amusing. I wonder who they were – Miss Riddiough gave us her usual blank look – kept entirely for the female sex; and I wished I had had my Lieutenant to make her displeased with her non-commissioned officers! Catty, catty Eadie! She makes me quite sick though – keeping all her charm(!) for the men.

I’m longing to see you dear, and presume you are dying to see me. Get Wednesday off. I’ll trip to the post now.

I do hope you can read this. All my love precious, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 6pm 29 SEP 1939
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F. Station, Yeadon, Via Leeds.

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

29^th September.

My darling Ronnie,

I am very sorry you couldn’t get over today, but the other news has cheered me up a great deal. You might easily get to Catterick to find me already there as a laundress or even a lavatory attendant. I would even stoop to such a level to be near you!!

I sent John down with a little present for your Mother this morning – and she phoned shortly after to thank me. You didn’t tell me she was knitting you some socks. Mine are sure to be very inferior, and you won’t want to wear them. Or perhaps you will wear them for love!

John, Daphne, Moué and I went for a good walk today. Do you remember that funny very over grown and muddy place we went to about two years ago – going up towards White Moor? We went up there. It was not so muddy this time though. We came out eventually onto the old Barlick road. We came down Cocker Hill, and then back onto Red Lane. Prince met a retriever and played with him for ages. They both got stung by wasps: Prince on his ear, the other on it’s nose. Prince doesn’t seem to be any the worse… There was a wasps nest near – so you wouldn’t have liked that much!

I rashly promised Sunni a walk and he is remembering judging from the crying noise. I doubt whether he’ll get much farther than the post!

We are probably going to see “Lilac Time” in Nelson tomorrow. We thought of going tonight, but I couldn’t tear myself away from a liver and bacon supper. You are the only person who can tear me away from liver and bacon.

Gosh, it’s chilly. I shall shortly have to take to my winter woollies – alas. Anyway, they are nice new ones.

I think we are in for a long and painful war, honey – now that Russia seems to be definitely in. What do you think of their beautiful peace treaty idea?

Oh dear, here comes Mr Ravvy(*) Hoghton. Katie has shown him in here. I have made polite conversation, and now Mum has come in. I have asked to be excused and have gone on writing! Running Commentary!

Now let me see, is there anything else to say? Well I really needn’t tell you that I adore you whole heartedly, and will continue to do so forever and ever and ever and ever. Amen.

Stop this war, stop everything and devote yourself to me.

I must close and pitter, patter to the post… Oh how I would love to kiss you now. Oh how I could kiss you, Ooh!

Mr Hoghton departs. “Goodnight” “Goodnight” The front door opens, Revvy goes out____.

What was I saying. Oh yes, what I wanted to say was I love you. Kisses, cuddles, caresses, Kay x

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.30pm 28 SEP 1939
addressed to Lieut.R.Helme, D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F.Station, Yeadon, Via Leeds.

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

28^th September

My dearest Ronald,

It is a year since yesterday, and I am loving you more every minute. Why can I not be with you all the time – every day, every night for ever and ever.

Every time I see you I love you more and want you more – and so it goes on.

I am hoping you will be sent over tomorrow, but I am not letting myself expect it because I may be disappointed.

I went down to Smith’s this morning and ordered twelve carnations which came to three bob. I was surprised to find them so cheap at this time of year. They are sending them up to your house in the morning with your card.

I was out for a walk with Prince this afternoon; and oh what heavenly peace there is in the country. It made me want to sit down and stay there. I went along this side of Old Ebbie’s – however it’s spelt, and down a very rough lane which eventually leads to the railway again. I expect you know it. Prince was full of beans, and was wearing his new lead, having broken his slip lead and his whip lead! This one is just an ordinary one, but it is thick and short, and seems very suitable.

I have told Mummy I want to be engaged before you go abroad. She said “Yes, well Ronnie must ask your Father”. Won’t that be lovely for you?!

Honey, I love you.

I started your pullover today, and have managed to get some khaki wool at Worrels for 4½ an ounse. The stuff I’m doing your socks with was 6½ same quality and not such a nice colour. So ____.

Granny has retired to bed – in self defence I think, though she says she has a cold! Actually I fear she is peeved with lack of attention. Mum has been out a lot lately, and was to have gone out this afternoon. Of course, she has had to stay in! What a woman! She makes me sick. And to think my middle name is Marion. I really have a good mind to have it changed. What do you suggest? Maria, Maud, Martha?!

Think how terrible it will be when they read our banns. Kathleen Marion ____. Ooch!

Honey, I blether; and I am sure you are busy.

So I guess I had better shoot oop.

Oh how I love you. I think I am going to burst with love and longing very soon now. Kisses, cuddles and caresses, Yours aye, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.30pm 25 SEP 1939
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F. Station, Yeadon, Via Leeds.

Albert House. Colne. Lancs. Tel.No.282

Monday

My dearest Ronald,

You are a lamb, and I adore you, and I’m glad you think I’m worth ten bob a day and a whole lot more in spiritual value. But let me tell you my love, that once you are married to me you are taped. Completely and permenantly taped – so make hay while the sun shines; but don’t let the sun shine too often!

Hurry up and come over and see me, and blow to the Army and everything else. Stanley Riddiough called yesterday, and made me long for a sight of you. Even though he did look slim and really remarkably improved in appearance. I wanted to swap him for you.

He is thoroughly enjoying the Army and the work (or lack of it!) and has put on a stone in the last three months. But he was not unbareably conceited about it all, as I had expected him to be.

The eight officers of his lot have all been presented with Ford 10’s or Ford 8’s. I forget which! That comes of being in the R.A.S.C. I suppose.

The sock grows and grows, but is by no means a thing of beauty. It should keep your little footy warm though – when I’ve darned all the holes! When I think that I’ve still another to do (and Mum is actually talking about “Your next pair of sock-“) it sends my heart in twain. Never mind I have turned the heel of the first successfully – and now I know how to do it.

I am longing to see you, and to squeeze you round the centre of your adiposity. If Stanley gets fatter with Army life I suppose you will too, dear. No I’m not really being rude at all. You’re very cute anyway.

It is about twenty past six, and I’m now going all on my ownio to take Prince for a walk. I’ll post this first.

Let me know if you want me to write less – and don’t you go forgetting I love you. Kisses cuddles caresses, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 715pm 24 SEP 1939
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., Attatched to R.A.F. Station, Yeadon, Via Leeds

Albert House, Colne, Lancashire.

24^th Sept^r. 1939

My dearest Ronald,

Mother has insisted upon me using this bit of paper which she has addressed. It looks a mess, but I must needs do as I’m told.

I’m expecting this to reach you in Yeadon tomorrow, Monday, and I am praying that I shall have a letter from you. You have really done very well with letters this last week, but I suppose you will find less time at Yeadon. Please let me know how often I’ve to write you. Not every day, I guess.

Hadn’t you better just tear my last letter up? There isn’t really much about them anyway; and I’m going to write many more hundreds to you yet honey. Well anyway, a good number, because you’ll always have to leave me at home at least one fortnight in every year – to go to camp.

I think I saw the Ogden children when I was out this morning. They were just going in to the park. I wonder how they feel with their father away so long.

I went to see “The Drum” for the third time last night. I was going to stay in; and Moué Mum and Granny were going. But at the last minute the old girl started hemming and hawing and decided not to go. So Mum then wouldn’t go. Moué had been looking forward to it so much that I said I’d go. I didn’t really mind seeing it again, and Moué’s pleasure and gratitude were ample reward. Dear, dear.

This house continues to be too full, but I suppose we can’t do anything about it yet. Granny is certainly here for the duration – becoming ever more martered. She takes a delight in telling everyone how she was going to Harrogate but the hotels are taken over – etc, etc. Actually she had more or less decided not to go before that happened. Still, it makes a good tale!

The front bell has just gone, and it seems like the voice of one of the residents of Lower Emmott. I hope to goodness they stay out of here (drawing room) I just don’t feel like talking to them these days – though John has mentioned having them down to supper. I told Mum I would go out, which didn’t suit her.

I’m going up to Molly Fould’s for tea tomorrow. At least she is genuine, and I can have a good ‘omely chat with her. I don’t have to mind my P’s and Q’s.

Well Angel, your khaki sock is growing, but I really must say it is not half as nice as it should be. The wool – the only stuff I could get, is not very good quality and apt to split, but they should keep you warm. I hope you’ll pardon a few mistakes. As long as I don’t make the foot all lumps and bumps! I’ve never done socks before, and I find it quite intriguing.

Mrs Brimfield has heard a tale through Walter Clegg that you have captured a man posing as an officer. She asked me if it was true, and I assured her it wasn’t. What silly things people concoct! Another very strong rumour is that Mr Haardt is a German spy – and has been her all these years just finding things out. They have ‘proof’ and goodness knows what. Mrs Riddiough is one of the believers and chief spreders. It has probably the same value as her information to Marjory the day before we declared war, that the Germans had ceased firing! Mum is very annoyed that people should be so faithless; and we just don’t believe it at all. Granny dared to be suspicious and we squashed her completely.

I’ve a feeling it’s your Mother’s birthday sometime around now. Or has it past. You might oblige me by letting me know. Though I doubt whether you will!

This letter becomes too long I fear. I am still very lonely, and very much in love with you – so let me see your dear self soonish.

All my love, yours ever, Kay.