May to David Tuesday 3 July 1917
My dear David,
Very sorry but we are on the 8.30 again. It can’t be helped as I want to call in at Stores a day this week if possible as next week is their sale, and I can only get 7 lb sugar at a time. It will be impossible to get served next week. There are only 2 old codgers in this compt, but they have their noses buried in papers, no doubt interested in its being Baby week, so you are lying full length. You’ll have to get up at Dulwich. Make yourself comfy; I’ll tell you when we get there. Tunnel. I have to hug you extra much going thro’ that as you are frightened. You see you are my baby, so you can’t help it. Your wanting a kiss between each half sentence is rather a hindrance to writing, but I suppose I had better give way to you.
I think yr letters to me are deliciously cheeky (Out of tunnel now, so I needn’t hold you so tightly. No you are not frightened now, it is all bunkum. O, you want a slapping). If the colonel doesn’t enjoy yr letters he is silly and has no bump of humour.
Dulwich. Quick. Gently, don’t kick his eyes out. Now here come 2 girls. All sitting on the other side. Thank goodness. I have made you invisible, but you mustn’t cheek me as I can’t stop them from hearing you. Don’t know that I would if I could, must have some peace and quietness some times.
The weather has turned glorious again. Uncle wrote to Ethel and me this morning. Fortunately Mama didn’t hear the letter come, so we did not show her. He mentions that he is glad Mama is a little better. That will upset her if she knew as she says she is never going to get better, only worse.
I didn’t have time to ring those people yesterday as the letter came too late but will do so today.
Herne Hill. Lots of folks waiting on platform. You had better get up. Make yourself small and sit on my lap. No one getting in! Perhaps they thin the compt is spooky. Wish the others did also and get out. Off. No one got in so you can lie full length. If you squeeze me so hard I shall call out and then what will the folks think? No, I know you don’t care. Aren’t you the worry of my life? Do you know, the night before last I almost gouged your eyes out? It was when you were turning me over on the other side. One of my wavers touched your face close to your right eye, so now I have “acquired” one of Ern’s large handkerchiefs and fit it over my head, fastening back my 3 wavers. Mama thinks it is because I am putting cocoanut oil on my hair, and don’t want to grease the sheets. I let her think it.
It is going to be hot today. Hadn’t you better get out of my arms and sit up properly? Incorrigible! What would the sergeant say, and the General of Generals?
You ask me about my holidays. Well. I ought to have been at home last week and week before really, but we were busy at office and shorthanded, and then perhaps you might get leave and I would like to get time off then if poss. So thought I would be a martyr and go to work. At any rate I shall have a fortnight in Sept. Must put this away now.
By the Bye, did I scrunch you too much last night? If so it was your fault, because it was too good of you to send Miss Wiltshire so much for me. I will now write to her and tell her what you say about going out together. She does deserve a treat – a good soul not appreciated.
We could not make out the missing words yesterday. Possibly they refer to livestock.
4.30 Nothing from you and no time to write more.
Lunch time I wrote to Maud, who wants me at 37 for the whole day next Sunday, and asked her to come out for a picnic on Shirley Hills instead. Picnic on a Sunday too! What will she say? I also suggested going to 56 to tea (unasked).
At 1.30. I wrote to Miss Willsher and told her what you said about going out together
Goodbe
May