Thursday, 12 September 2013

12th September 1933 - Mary to Terrick

Dunally Lodge

Tuesday 7.30pm

Dear Fitz

- Your letter didn't arrive until Tuesday evening, anyway.  I have been disgruntled for at least 2 days, waiting for it to come. - not, you understand from any feeling of 'longing' - but rather one of the incompleteness of my week without it..

- Anyway, I have duly absorbed its satisfying contents, 'hummed' & 'haa'd' in the correct places, refolded it and gazed into space for required 3 minutes and have now, as custom demands, settled myself at desk in study to reply.

The family are all out somewhere.  Jack has taken a strange female to a flick for the first time and the rest have been rowing a skiff from Staines to Windsor all day.  They should be back by now.  The appetising odours of stew from the cuisine assail my hankering frame, and its also a bit chillsome as we're celebrating the notable occasion of our first rain for 20 days!

Next Saturday we have our House-Warming.  'At home' in afternoon - dance in evening - Motor Treasure Hunt on Sunday.  We're putting 8 people up for the night!  Pray heaven it's fine - at the moment we have too many men coming - unusual.

I do hope you don't arrive on Oct 1st - how long will your holiday at home last? - my week from Sept 29th - Oct 8th is fated.  Everything important is happening in it.  - it makes me late for school - later for College & I miss the interview beforehand.  - Tennis Club end-of-season dance on Oct 7th - a good bit of money spent that I could so easily do with - and, now, missing you! - But, anyhow, I'm still looking forward to it.

Do you do any surf-riding?  It's a thing I've always wanted to try.

*           *            *    
Family rung up to say they have missed the bus and won't be home for half an hour - Could stand cold no longer so have lit the fire (first time here) - & it's going beautifully.  Am reposing on cushion in front of it and trying to forget familiar gnaw on my inside due to lack of nourishment since 1.0p.m.

Poor haunting female - I can so easily feel the rather sickening feeling inside when you mentioned 'her' - specially if she really likes you.  Haven't you a snap of her that I could look at.  I always think of her as rather like myself!

- Whatever does Paul think of your asking his permission to tell "me" he's engaged?  Does he think you've 'arrived' at last?

- What do you think his people will have to say about it? - Quite a lot, I should think.  - But I suppose it might work out all right. - (How horribly sceptical!) - I expect it will.
(What a beastly lot of 'thinks')

Had a ghastly p.c. from Old School Association this morning reminding me I had promised to write an account of the winter Reunion for the magazine.  As this all took place last November things look a little hopeless.

- What are you doing polishing up the first act of "Edwy" again? - You'll have revised it into something quite different by the time I get hold of it!! Don't let it mean too frightfully much to you, will you?  I should hat it to hurt you.

366 days next Sunday - oh gosh, if we could go back! - It's impossible, I'm afraid, for you to realise what that week was to me - specially as, I expect, looking back encloses it in an even goldener haze! - Even the word 'Scotland' still sends a thrill through me - and as for 'Fort William' - practically a vision of heaven on earth!! - even to 'Daisy Bell' & 'Cheward'! - oh - and Mr. FitzHugh! At the moment I feel as if I shall always & always remember:-  - being late for breakfast and not minding - Norah's 'yo-yo' - cold sparkling mornings - the mountains across the loch - buying films - walking into bogs - climbing a wonderful mountain & being frightened I should funk it - Norah loving everything & me - the smile of the Poly. rep. and telling him how to bandage his ankle, his new plus four suit and the wind in his hair (not as bad as it sounds!) - and the train & the scenery and freedom & people I liked - and Norah - God, thank you so much.

*          *          *          *

I shall like you - so you will 'be bothered' to accept my invitation - won't you?

What a strange lad Ian must be - Perhaps they didn't use enough 'psychology' in his upbringing - it seems rather a waste of good material.

Only 2 more letters before you come home - unless you like to make it 3 just for a special treat!  I suppose, by this time, we can consider that we know each other rather well, can't we? - only perhaps a little differently from the ordinary 'knowledge' of another person - better in some ways and a disadvantage in others. - oh - corks - how I'm longing to see you and 'hear' you say something - I shall, in reality, probably, be appallingly casual & 'Hail, fellow, well met' (Horrible!) - and say 'Hallo Fitz - how are you? - oh no, I mustn't - & after all - it won't matter terrifically, will it?  we'll see!

- Well, as usual, my Tuesday night bath calls - as I stay at Norah's tomorrow - and I'm deadly tired - I think it must be my successful fire.

I'll take you to see Katie on day - Jack will show you over the works!

- Goodnight, old thing, the best of luck always.


       Mary   xxx

P.S. 17 has always been my lucky number, strangely enough, because I was born on the 17th - so we'll share it!!

P.P.S. The greatest asset in this world is 'self-control'


(What a beastly mess my letters are - do you get any sense out of them?)

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