No 4.

Maycot
12 Commonside,
Keston,
Kent

26.11.39.

Dearest,

I was so pleased to get your No. 9 on Fri 24th (5 days after you had written it.)

I am so glad you liked the Helmet and I am, as requested, busy knitting you another one in scarlet (I hope you were serious about this color, anyway, I am making it.)

Wyn suggests that if you see any of the enemy, you had better wave your head from side-to-side so that you look like a poppy!

I note that when you are manning, your opportunities for correspondence are limited, but please always try to manage a note to me.

Jill and I had an enjoyable two days with Mother. They were very pleased to see us and I think it brightened things up for them a…

…little.

Ethel and her mother called in, and the former showed me the letter you sent her. She was very pleased to hear from you. I hope you have, by now, been able to manage a note to Mother.

I think I may as well tell you that when I returned from Hampstead I found a letter from Audrey, in which she dwelt on your father’s sad life and how happy it would make him if J. and I were to visit Ash Lodge occasionally–would I not do this for her sake!

In view of her last epistle to us, I thought this impudent and incomprehensible. Since then I have received a note from your father expressing hurt that I have not yet been down to see your Mother and Jean etc, etc.

I don’t know why they cannot leave me alone. They ought to know that, in any case. I am very busy and I am never…

…free at week-ends even if I wanted to visit them, which I don’t.

I think I’ve got quite enough to cope with without giving your mother the opportunity to weigh me down with her imaginary troubles. Will leave this subject now.

I am so looking forward to the time when you have leave and in anticipation thereof, have converted an old evening dress into two nighties (utilizing the slip). One is rather diaphanous but they are both rather seductive. Wyn does not consider I require their aid however, and that you would be sufficiently reluctant to return when your leave was up.

I loved the story about the worm and, as you knew I would, thoroughly appreciated your sentiments. I think it is little things like this which we have in common that create a closer union between us, when as at the moment we are separated. One cannot help thinking of the others reactions at the time.

Strange to relate, Jill and I had a worm episode which I think must…

…must have taken place at about the same time as yours. She found one, one morning, just inside the back door and was not quite sure what he was. I explained to her carefully, lifted him up by two matches, and gently put him outside, explaining to J. that he needed fresh air and soil.

She promptly formed a violent attachment for him and next day made me a worm with plasticine, gave him some imaginary dinner and told me long tales about his likes and dislikes.

By the way, she adores your little letters to her, so do keep them up.

I am so sorry to hear Vic is not so well, but according to Tris (who knows all about it presumably from Vic) they are not for the present sending him home, but intend sending him to the seaside to see what that will do for him. It is a shame that he is unable to be with you.

Re. Food prices, I think these…

…have risen about 15%, which of course does not simplify matters, but I suppose we must not grumble.

Mr. Clayton came to lunch today (Sunday) and spent the afternoon with us, departing after tea. He got on well with Jill and was very nice generally.

I have not had any communication from Spencer Lewis this month, I must drop him a note.

I was very thrilled at your parting sentiment, promising me a cup of tea one morning soon. I think you have better start giving Mr. Chapple my love. He is rather darling anyway, but you will remember he gave you leave first on a previous occasion because he thought I was lonely. Well I am again only more so.

Look after yourself darling and remember I love you.

Lots of kisses from J. Love from Wyn and a very tight hug from me.

I will send another Helmet soon.

Yours,

Terry.