May to David Beckenham 11.7.18
My dear David,
My income tax paper arrived this morning – so welcome -, and while hunting through some private papers for ideas for filling up I came across a copy letter I had written to Read & Brigstock, which gives me some particulars I wanted without troubling Mrs Taylor again. I have, therefore, written them the following letter, and will ask Mrs Taylor to sign it when I see her next time, which I expect will be Saturday:-
“On 30th April 1917 my son, &c., bought some Malayalam Rubber Shares. In May 17 he bought 10 more for which he sent a cheque for £19. He again wrote for 10 in June ’17 but did not enclose the money. Shortly after that he was taken prisoner. I cancelled the third request for shares, and in due time received the certificate for the 10 bought in May 17.
He is now writing from Germany asking if I have received the certificate for the first shares bought in April 1917. I have not received this certificate, and have asked him to write to you direct as I cannot tell you the number he bought or the price paid. Did you send it to him in France? If so, and you can give me date and particulars, I will take up the matter with the Post Office.”
How will that do? It ought to get a reply of some sort.
The weather is dreadfully wet. Poor Maud!
It is years since I had a letter from you. I shall soon begin to feel a desolate widow.
12.7.18
A letter from you this morning. Horray. And a nice one too, though I know you are feeling fed up. You need not, as there are plenty of nice thoughts to have. The letter was dated 1st June, and contained a very nice plan of the hut on one floor. My ideas of furnishing are to save work as much as possible. The cutlery will be the same as Mrs Pratt’s – no cleaning required. I like the idea of the drawer under the beds. You have made two of the small bedrooms 6’ on one side. I thought they ought to be 6’6”. Could that be arranged? I have shown the sketch to the elder girls at the office, and they are in love with it, want me to have it and let it to them. We might take your camp bed when we go, and put it in the living room. One of the elder girls here has an allotment, and she is getting on well with it, and gives me tips.
As regards weather, we have awful deluges, and beautiful intervals. I am glad you can get out for walks. That boot race sounds funny.
Mama seems to be looking at my big photo as though it belongs to her. Well, if she wants one I will get another, but I think the photographer has joined up now.
A post card came from Mrs Taylor last night saying she is looking forward to having me for the weekend. Also a letter card from Maud who is evidently black out with me as I said I hoped the Dr wasn’t playing the fool with her. She writes “Dear May, Just a line to tell you I am comfortably settled here. The doctor’s opinion here coincides exactly with Dr White’s. We had a storm yesterday. The lightning was vivid. I am boating at all available opportunities. Norman is still very attentive, and I am finding several other people glad to see me. Love. Yours, M.A.” Isn’t Maud funny when she tries to be dignified? She is the biggest baby I ever came across. I have replied enclosing her a smelling salts bottle full of powerful stuff, and a hope that she will not find it useful; also wished he many happy returns of her birthday (to-morrow); hoped she had taken with her suitable figleaves as the weather has turned so windy & wet, & suggested all she need wear is a ham frill & a shoulder strap. I wonder what she will reply.
Can’t stop any longer, so say Goodbye to me. (You do want a shave badly.)
May