9th April 1961

April 9th 1961


Hello Darling,

I haven’t really got anything interesting to tell you so I’ll have to start thinking up sly ways to fill space.  I’ll start by answering your last letter I think.

Pause, while I go and get it.

That story about Mike and the Canadian girl went around the office and everyone thought it was dead comical.  So did I.  I wondered what on earth you were leading up to when I read it.  I found out.

Oh yes, and there is one little point about a certain 2/6d bet that I seem to remember from a week ago.  I can’t quite make up my mind whether you actually did forget to put it in the letter by mistake or intentionally.  Comments please?  Or should I say excuses.  And as for that No 6, there wasn’t anything wrong with him apart from being tired and dropping his head.  We were watching it on TV and he didn’t miss a stroke.  They played it up too much in the press to make some excuse for the favourite losing, that’s all.

I gathered what you were talking about by C.S.E. show but what does C.S.E. stand for?

We had a perfect case of mental telepathy at work Friday afternoon.  One of the girls’ fiancé phoned her.  We had to send out a search party for her because nobody could find her.  The poor chap was waiting at the other end of the phone for 10 minutes before they told him she wasn’t in the office.  Everyone had just settled down to work when she strolled back in.  She said she had just been phoning him at his office but they couldn’t find him.  We thought it was dead funny.  We didn’t talk of anything else all afternoon.

Did I tell you that Jennifer has been elected form captain for next term?  I can imagine the sort of class she is in if they chose her.  Anyway, that is what mum and dad said when I was chosen form captain – in my youth of course.  Let me get this in: I was form captain twice and vice once when I was at school.

I’ve got an absolutely stinking cold and a rotten headache and a shocking sore throat.  Not that I wish to complain of course.  Just let me die quietly without any fuss.  Think I’ll go and make myself a cuppa.  The family have gone out again.

I had my hair cut Friday.  The girl who did it spent ages explaining how I should set it to get the best effect.  It’s very short and looks alright.  But I reckon it’s a bit too sweet and boyish for me.  Still, ne’er mind.  It’ll grow.

My aunt brought Terry over Saturday afternoon.  The first time I’ve seen him since he had measles.  The blasted kid, he didn’t keep still at all.  I got told off because mum said I was encouraging him.  Just cos I was having a free-for-all with him.  He must have taken offence to our cushions in the front room, cos he was chucking them all around the place. So I sat on him!  That was alright until he started yelling.  I wasn’t hurting him.  He was laughing most of the time anyway.  You always know when he’s fed up with a game, he starts kicking you.  He said he wanted to play bulldozers and he told me to stand still.  Like a mug I did.  Not for long.  I found out that playing bulldozers meant charging into me with all his weight.  I went flying.

My aunt says my Nan’s not well again.  Her mind has gone funny.  She keeps doing funny things like getting all her clothes out of the cupboards and drawers and piling them up. And when you talk to her she looks at you and laughs.  Everyone seems to think she is heading for another stroke cos her blood pressure is going up and up.  I really must go and see her one day next week.  I haven’t been over there since she came out of hospital and that was ages ago.  I keep talking about it but that’s as far as I get.

I’ve been trying to avoid writing about going out with Michael but I honestly haven’t got much else to write about.  Jean came round Wednesday evening and started talking about the four of us (Stan, Graham) going out Saturday.  It seems the three of them had arranged the times we would meet between them so I had to tell Jean why I couldn’t go.  She got quite nasty about it and said I’d better phone Graham and tell him.

When Michael brought me home Easter Saturday he said we would either go to the Lambourne or the Winter Hall yesterday.  I told Carol I wanted to go to the Lambourne because that’s where she and Clive were going.  All week we were planning how we could manage to both get there.  In the end we both ended up at the Winter Hall.  I enjoyed myself really.  Michael’s friend and his fiancée were there as well.  I prefer going out in a crowd.  I think it is more fun usually.  Now, this is where I can be honest and nice at the same time.  I’ve always liked going out with more than one person.  But when I went out with you, well, we just didn’t need anyone else, did we?  I wish I’d never said what I did.  I didn’t want you to think the wrong things and I can see you have.  I love you Alan, honestly I do.  As you say, I wish you were home so I could prove it.

I caused quite a stir Saturday night.  We had been sitting down for a few minutes when my pearl necklace broke.  Those pearls are jolly cold.  I had everyone on their knees looking for the ones I dropped while I went dashing to the cloakroom clutching at my waist.  Still, it was something different.

The trouble with going dancing every week is that I haven’t got anything decent to wear.  I’ve been wearing most of my ‘best’ clothes for work.  I can see I’ll have to get going on the old sewing machine again.

Jennifer and dad have got me in a right muddle as far as gin rummy is concerned.  They both play completely different types of game. So as soon as I get used to one, I play the other.  I’ve been losing for weeks.

I’ve been having a row with dad over such a daft thing.  He makes me mad cos I know darn well I’m right.  There is a jazz recording of Sweet Elizabeth just released.  About 3 years ago we bought this record by Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson.  It’s on a 78 and I haven’t played it for ages.  I had all the old records out this afternoon but I couldn’t find it.  I know I haven’t lent it to anyone cos none of my friends are particularly fond of it.  It hasn’t been broken so it must have been left round my uncle’s house one Christmas.

The point is, dad says it’s a green labelled record and I know darn well it’s a red label and thinner than the others cos it’s one of the most modern of the old fashioned ones.  Anyway, he said that next weekend he’s going to my uncle’s house and sort through all their old records to prove me wrong.  Which he won’t!


That’s about all for this time, I think.  I’d better get on with my usual Sunday evening activities ie, cleaning shoes, washing handbags and preparing in general the clothes for wearing next week.

I’ve been sitting here for ages trying to think of something to fill up that last line.  I’ve taken the easy way out and told you just that.

All my love to you my darling,


Letters from Maureen Week 14: 1st - 9th April 1961

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