Oct 10th '36
My very own dear love - I am missing you more just at the moment than I have done since Tuesday. I am sitting propped up in my hard bed after a bath, with my bottle between my legs, my hair in two stiff "berubberbanded" plats - & my ring opulently displayed on my finger because you aren't here. I have been knitting all the evening while the family drifted in and chased out in ones and twos. The Lingwood boys, Flip & Graham suddenly shot off to the pictures - Jack, Jill, Lottie & Paget to a posh 21st at Cookham - and Mummy & Mr Lingwood have been playing patience ever since. But it has really been a lovely day because it began with a letter from you this morning. It was so nice to be given a picture of you sitting round the fire with your father & mother - eating lots for tea - & going off in the car with your father - and wearing your plus fours all day, and doing nothing. When the emptiness beside me and in me grows unproportionately large, it always helps me on for a little while to think of the good it's doing you.
I had another lovely cooking lesson on Friday. I had to go shopping in the lunch hour to buy my flour and margarine - the man in the shop asked if I was going to "try my hand a cooking"! - I suppose because I had to ask for "that kind of white sugar that isn't lump"! I also bought a pie dish for it - so I feel it's your turn next time to buy a hammer or ash tray. I also had to go to the fruit shop to ask for enough damsons "to fill this pie dish". But I feel all this experience is invaluable to me. My pie was quite successful, & we had it for lunch at school today.
I came home by bus with Grannie & Hell this afternoon. Helen, apparently, is going to Breslau, although the Consul warned Uncle Edmund that the family doesn't even go to the theatre or employ a maid! - So I shouldn't think Helen's in for too good a time! Also Cecil Wiscon (the short man at the sherry party) has had his engagement with the German girl broken off & doesn't seem to care a bit (Grannie says!) - He's got about £200 of hers to send back.
Miss X was exceptionally nice to me this morning & asked whether I'd rather go to the theatre or have a present for my bottom-drawer, because I'd been so good this term! Something must have weakened her brain - because she has already told me I bluster, am too officious, and have lost my usual cheerfulness this term!
Next Wednesday (to fill my blankness) Patricia & I are going to "The Country Wife" at the Vic & I had thought of seeing "A Tale of Two Cities" at the Richmond - but perhaps that would be a bit extravagant. Will you come to Richmond one evening the week you get back and see "Mr. Deeds goes to Town"? Also Charles I sounds rather good, doesn't it?
I have got on to the 3rd story in the new Arabian Nights - but the plots seem to dwindle off in them all - & Prince Florizel give me the pip - with his "Alas!" every two minutes. I suppose Stevenson is old-fashioned too - but I'd never thought of him as being so before.
My new brown dress is fairly nice - but I think it makes me look a bit pompous.
Tomorrow evening after tea at Ken's new flat, I meet Kathleen Hayes to go to Kilburn to interview this marvellous Stratford producer who's going to put on scenes from Lear for the Drama League Festival. I hope he doesn't take us all off to the White Slave Traffic!
* * * *
This is Sunday morning just before lunch. Mummy has had a dreadful cold all the week and had an awful attack of asthma during the night. She called me for aged until I woke up - & then I never know what to do. I think it's one of the worst feelings you can have to watch someone suffer & not know how to help them. However, she's better this morning, although she still has a rotten cold. I have made another exquisite apple pie and some dumplings.
We've got to leave here soon, so I must get this finished in time to post it when we go.
I'm sorry it's all in pencil, but I've lost my pen somewhere at school.
We're going to ask Ren down next weekend - it's going to seem an awful long time before then though.
Write to me soon, my dearest dear, - I think of you and long for you a hundred times a day.
Yours, with all my heart for always.
Mary Pleasant
No comments:
Post a Comment