35 Nevern Place
S.W. 5
6th October 1935
Dear Little Mary,
I am sitting by my radiator very happily writing to you. Happy partly because I am writing to you, and partly because I have done a satisfying day's work.
One short story ready for typing and another, "Minter's Conscience" nearly ready. There is one thing lacking to the first and that is a title. I can think of two: "The Portent" and "A Secret from the Dead", but neither of them is very good. I started the story sometime about 1930 and have added bits at intervals of about a year ever since, but I had no idea until today how it was to end.
I have another idea for half of a plot, the first half. the setting is the Midland Hotel, Morecombe Bay (under some fictions) and placed at Fort William. At lunch time on a fine sunny day at the height of the season a young man rushes into the reception office with his eyes rolling, and declares that his bedroom is haunted! What do you think of that?
I have worked out the plot for a good way but not yet as far as the end.
The other day when I was in the room where Miss Seamans (Managing Director's Secretary) & Miss Saville (Edie's successor as General Manager's Secretary) work. The latter was entering up the times of arrival in the morning and told be that I had been late twice in the last fortnight. I said: "Lack of interest".
Miss Seamans expressed surprise and asked why. I told her: not enough money and no prospects. She said: perhaps they'll create a position for you. I laughed at the idea and I think this provoked her to say more than she meant to, because she went on to say that "she thought" that the branches in the provinces were going to be extended that I ought to get a branch manager's job. From the way she said it I am pretty sure that she wasn't talking about what she thought might happen, but what she knew was being contemplated by the Man.Dir.
I pretended not to notice this & tactfully conveyed that any such prospect would immediately restore my interest. I wonder very much what is afoot and in the how-near future it may come off.
I'll find out how much we pay the branch managers. I think it is £300 to £350 a year plus commission amounting to another £100. Their offices consist of themselves and a girl, who gets about £1 a week. Work in the winter is practically nil. We might run a branch between us.
Have you sent me 10/- in your letter? The instalment should have been paid yesterday. If you haven't it doesn't matter. They'll wait a few days.
I am looking forward to dancing with you again. The last time we danced together was at the Eden Hotel, Berlin, wasn't it? And the time before that was at the Preussenhof (I don't think that was the name) at Stettin. Magical days!
It is funny how I get to love you more and more when I thought at Nice that I couldn't possibly love you more than I did then. To survive an absence of nine months when it was only in it's initial stages it must have been very strong then, so you can imagine what it is like now.
It is right that after my frivolous record I should have had to wait some time before I can marry you. Just to give me a chance of proving to myself and everybody that it is the real thing this time. Even my mother who always joked about my hotel-like heart doesn't doubt it now.
I enclose a cutting from "The Observer" that may interest you. it might be worth writing to. Perhaps they have evening courses.
Good night, darling. I am looking forward to your letter in the morning, so I don't feel as though I have to say Goodbye till Wednesday.
All my heart.
Your
Terrick
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