19th February 1961

February 19th 1961



Darling Alan,

I wish I hadn’t stood that round on Friday night.  I realise now that I couldn’t afford it, subject-material-wise.  I want to write something tonight so you get your usual letter on Wednesday, cos I know how disappointed I get if a letter of yours doesn’t come by the expected post.  It fact, if it doesn’t come my family just daren’t speak to me, they keep well out of my way.

Well, there is only two days to tell you about and not much has happened in them, so it seems like this is going to be a letter filled with odds and ends.

We had a visit from my aunt and your future cousin-in-law Saturday afternoon.  And as usual we had no peace the whole time he was here.  Jennifer makes him worse than he is by telling him off all the time.  He apparently doesn’t like that.  The black and blue bruises on her arms and legs prove it.  This brave young adventuress here, (me!) decided to go to her sister’s rescue and we both started on him.  I had him upside down over my shoulder in no time.  But apparently he doesn’t like that either.  I’ve got some black and blue bruises to prove it.  After a while the bedlam got too much for mum and my aunt so they told him to go play in the garden.  We had some lovely little crocus growing in the lawn.  Now we’ve got some lovely squashed crocus lying on our lawn.

Still, my aunt is ever so nice.  She’s the sort of aunt you can tell anything to.  And often I tell her things that I daren’t tell mum.  She keeps everything to herself as well.  From what I hear she must have been quite a girl in her day. She often talks about what she and her friend used to get up to.  They would go into these bars and clubs that were prostitute haunts just for the hell of it and then get scared and run a mile if anyone spoke to them.

Don’t you dare mention it when you see her.  She said not even her brothers and sisters know about it.  Though I’ve nearly slipped up a couple of times when I’ve been talking to her.  My grandfather didn’t approve of pubs or drink and she often told me how she used to slip into pubs with her boyfriends without her Dad knowing.  I’d be on the verge of telling her I’d done exactly the same thing.  Trouble was, I was only about 15 at the time and she was talking about when she was over 20.

I suppose that is enough about family history – more or less.  I’ve been talking about my cousin Terry who I’ve mentioned before, if you haven’t guessed.

It’s been a gorgeous day today, just like summer.  It’s been so warm I was even tempted out into the garden which hasn’t been honoured by my presence since last summer.  I think dad’s motto must be ‘keep the home fires burning.’  It is nearly 12 (midnight) and there is still an enormous fire here.  I am slowly melting away.  I’ve been sitting here gradually shedding clothes, before I end up as a little wet puddle on the floor – it’s alright – quite respectable, everyone else has gone to bed.  I just thought I’d tell you to get your blood up, like.

Jennifer’s got her half-term holiday tomorrow and the day after.  She has already warned me that she’s going to lie in bed and laugh at me when I have to get up before her.  I don’t know how I am gonna get to work on time.  I usually rush and race her out of the house.  There won’t be anything to rush for tomorrow.  Still, I’ve got next Friday and Monday off so I’ll be able to laugh at her.  Try to make my Monday letter a nice long one please, darling.  I’ll have loads and loads of time to read it over and over again.

Only another 5 days until the wedding. I’m looking forward to it ever so much.  I like weddings at the best of times but I feel as if I’ve been in on this one from the very beginning, as I was with her when she chose her wedding dress.  And they have been here and discussed the wedding arrangements with me.  At times they have even asked my advice.  I don’t know why cos I don’t know anything about anything.  Still, I’m picking up a few useful hints for our big day.

D’you remember the day she chose her wedding dress?  It seems so long ago now.  All I could talk about on the way to the Palais was brides and weddings.  It was a good job it was you I was going out with that evening.  Anyone else might have thought I was hinting a little too heavily.

It’s going to be quite a gathering of the clan next Saturday.  Marjorie is the first of my school friends to get married and so the first time we’ve had an occasion to get together again.  It will probably end up as a real old mothers’ meeting (meant very loosely of course) and if I know Marj she’ll desert poor Bill and be in the middle of it.  Though, on second thoughts, maybe she won’t.

I was reading the book ‘They Found Atlantis’ in bed last night.  I got to the bit where they were all in this bathysphere at the bottom of the sea – 5180 feet down as a matter of fact – and they see a deformed human face looking at them through the porthole. Ugh! I couldn’t sleep after that.

What better thing to write about than to tell you I love you an awful lot and I’m counting the days til you get home.  Y’know, I’ve even made a chart in the back of my diary and I cross a day off when I get to bed every night.  A bit immature I know but it makes me feel good every time I mark another one off.  I know I’m that little bit nearer the time when I’ll see you again and be able to kiss you again.  I love you so much Alan darling.

Ever yours



I’ll be taking those photos I promised you next weekend so you should get them a week or so after.  And, you know, if the weather holds I might even get my swimsuit out of cold storage as well as my cheong-sam.  xx

Letters from Maureen Week 7: 19th - 25th February 1961

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