14th January 1936
My Darling,
The Story Writing class is over and I have got back to No.35 to find my new suit waiting for me. So I have quickly put it on and creased my blue trousers. here I am sitting resplendently garbed, writing to you.
Last night we went to see "Someone at the Door", a combination of farce and thriller that was quite amusing. Fortunately on the Monday morning Priscilla sent me a card, or rather a card arrived from her, to say that she could not have anything to eat with me before the show, so I was able to have dinner with Mummy.
Andy wasn't at the class tonight, which was a pity because I particularly wanted to see him about his fool of a friend. did I tell you that Andy rang me up to ask me to see what I could do about getting him, the Irish friend, Paul's job as he had lost the job at Gaumont British? I looked into the matter & told Andy that I could get him an interview but he must first apply in writing and mention my name. Well the silly fathead wrote a letter of about four lines which looked as though he had tried to do it with his toe dipped in ink. It was only just legible; and there was no attempt at all to show why he thought it would be worth Hawken's while to give him an interview; no attempt to publicise himself. So he won't get an interview and he'll have to pull his socks up or he won't get a job at all. I am not going to put forward anyone else. First John Lingwood makes a fool of himself and now this ass. C'est trop fort.
A curious thing has happened. On Saturday a fellow called Drew (who invited me to the dance at his flat) got a better job with Hickie, Borman & Grant and gave a week's notice. Digby told me on Monday afternoon that he and Hawkin had been talking about this and Hawkin had said: "The next one to go will be FitzHugh; and I know where he will be invited to go, which he doesn't know himself". Digby made me promise not to tell Hawken that he had told me. Isn't that queer. I asked Digby whether Hawkin didn't mean that I should leave the Administration for another job in the firm, but he said that he got the impression that Hawken meant I should leave the Poly. The only thing I can think of is that one of our agents wants a man and is thinking of asking me.
I do hope I shall see you tomorrow. It will be nearly a week since last time. it feels like ages. have you seen the Telegraph these last few days. On Friday and Monday I went and left mine at the Regent Palace before I had looked at the jobs and businesses.
I have had a letter from Hodson. The furniture factory has gone smash, and he has heard that I am in the market for property; "Could we co-operate"! I'm careful what remarks to make, knowing how you can't keep yourself from repeating everything to your family. But we talk about it to-morrow.
I must go to the post now. I hope you still love me as much as you did when you wrote that very nice letter on Sunday.
I hope too that I'll be able to kiss you properly tomorrow. I have got to got to the dentist in the afternoon because one of my front top teeth has taken to bleeding violently. Digby I've go pyorrhoea. Hawken says I haven't; so they've got a bet of a pint of beer on what the dentist's verdict is.
Till tomorrow, sweetheart.
Terrick XXX
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