17th February 1961

February 17th 1961


Darling Alan,

Thanks for the ‘one on the house’.  Now it’s my turn to stand a round (not ‘stand around’ – but stand, a round – get me?)

I like getting letters when I don’t expect them.  The spare one came by midday post today and I only got your last one yesterday.  Dad said, ‘what’s the matter, is he confined to barracks, or something?’  I must say, you couldn’t have timed the letter better (cor, that rhymes, ain’t I clever?) – and don’t be so darn rude, you should always agree with a lady – and no rude remarks about the ‘lady’ part either, if you don’t mind!

Tonight is the night of the Valentine’s dance.  I haven’t been looking forward to it at all, then when I saw your letter waiting for me when I got home, I decided I didn’t want to go.  A real pea-souper came down soon after (I’m talking about fog) and that just about finished it.  So, I went round to my friend’s and persuaded her she didn’t want to go either.  So now, instead of necking with a nice big handsome hunk of man in the back of a car, I’m sitting here writing to my nice big handsome hunk of man in Cyprus.  (don’t have another look at the address at the top of this letter, I’m not in Cyprus, you are in case you’ve forgotten)

I don’t think I could have lasted for very long on a dance floor anyway.  My headache and sore throat have developed into a shocking cold, so I am writing between sniffs.

I must say, your last letter was a bit morbid.  I have been sitting here all evening waiting to be blown to smithereens by Russian bombs.

What do you think about the American Air Force charlie being cleared of murder?  I reckon it’s a downright fiddle.  They didn’t even charge him with manslaughter.  Although it was probably self-defence.  I bet she got mad at him because he wouldn’t keep up the instalments on her fur coat.

All this week they have been having heats of the British Song Contest on the television.  They had the finals tonight and I reckon that was a downright fiddle as well.  I don’t think ‘Marry Me’ was a patch on ‘My Kind of Girl’ and I bet ‘My Kind of Girl’ tops Marry Me in the Hit Parade.  It was pretty close though.  They had 46 each with one vote to come and I was sitting here smoking myself to death waiting for the result.

A box of chocolates has been circulating the office today.  Don’t know why. Suppose it must have been someone’s birthday or something.  Anyway, I did pretty well out of it.  Most people seem to have given up sweets for Lent, so there was only a couple of us eating them.  One girl even gave me a half pound block of chocolate that she had bought and couldn’t eat.  So I put temptation out of her way and ate it for her.  I must have put on a coupla stone today.

They get some funny ideas about Lent in our place.  One girl was the talk of the office last year when she and her boyfriend gave up kissing for Lent.  The funny part about it was that he proposed to her at Easter.

Do you know, to date I’ve received eleven letters, two postcards and one Valentine card from you.  Not bad going on your part, in – is it 6 weeks.

I can only afford to write to you cos I bought a book of stamps at the beginning of the month.

Have you ever read ‘Forever Amber’?  If you have, isn’t it good?  If you haven’t, it’s jolly good, you ought to read it.  I’ll lend it to you – the 2 volumes – when you get home – as if you’ll have time to read. Ha!

I’m reading a smashing book at the moment.  It’s Dennis Wheatley’s ‘They Found Atlantis’.  I reckon that chap is a marvel. Whatever subject he writes on he seems to know inside out.  He must do a terrific amount of research.  I was reading his ‘the Haunting of Toby Jugg’ on holiday last year.  I had a chalet to myself and used to read in bed – well, it’s better than nothing.  The book is all about Black Magic and a chap who sees the shadow of a spider trying to get in at his window – the spider, not the shadow.  I had to go to sleep with the light on every night so there weren’t any shadows.

My holiday last year was a real dead loss.  I was going with my friend as well as the family.  (I did try to get out of that bit, but I don’t think they trusted me on the loose.)  My friend’s mother was taken ill the night before we were due to go and Jean wouldn’t leave her.  (she hasn’t got a father – well, she has but he is living in sin in Cornwall and has been for 14 years, that’s no joke either I’m dead serious.)

So in the end it turned out a good thing that my family were going as well.  All the same I probably would have had more fun at home.  I’m not kidding you, there was not even one eligible male, married or otherwise there.  The place was just full of blasted little kids knocking around the place.

We did have a laugh over the Casanova barman as we called him.  Anything more spivvy looking and more obvious I’ve never seen.  He looked just like Sidney Tafler and spoke like him as well. Dad and I were watching him and laughing about him at the beginning of the week.  The way he used to rush to serve the young girls.  And you ought to have seen his face while he was shooting the old line.

Tuesday night, he started on me, with, of all things, ‘when did you come down here, I haven’t seen you before.’  After that I was sent to buy all the drinks and come back and tell dad what he had said.  I’ve never laughed so much.  I don’t know what the other people there thought of me in the end cos I always gave the conventional answer, complete with fluttering eyelashes.  Boy, did he think he’d made a hit there.  Still, I always got served first.

Your future in-laws are yelling at me again.  (it’s 1.15) my mother is always shouting at me, if it’s not to come to bed, it’s to get up.

I suppose I’ve got to finish now, so here’s your darling signing off as usual with lots of love to her darling.


Letters from Maureen Week 6: 14th - 17th February 1961

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