August 9th 1961
Thanks for the last letter, number 45.
I’ve still got nothing else to write about except Lena. She’s a pet, she really is. I must get to Sweden somehow or other even if I have to swim there. It will be awful when she leaves especially if I know I won’t see her again.
I don’t know if I told you about being round Jean’s on Sunday. If I did, sorry. You know the ole ‘highest rate of unmarried mothers in the world’ lark? Jean and I had been talking about that a few days before. Then Sunday, Lena said ‘I hear Swedish girls have a bad reputation in England.’ There was a deathly hush and no one said a word. Then after a while Lena said, ’Perhaps not? Well, good.’
I mean, I’d only known the girl two days and I thought it a bit soon to start enquiring about Swedish sex life. Though I’m dying to know if it’s true. Might pick up a few tips!
We’ve just been having a lovely long chat about the average length of engagements etc. and just got round to this girl who Lena knows who had to get married, when we noticed the time. 12.15. I’m looking forward to the holidays. We decided we’d have to talk when we don’t have to watch the time.
It seems she is not used to these late nights. Mum said she got up at 11.45 this morning. She’s as good as me. I can see we’re gonna spend most of our holiday in bed.
We went to see Marje and Bill last night. They are expecting the baby December 10th. Marje said she has pretty mixed feelings about it all as they didn’t intend starting a family til at least 2 years. Still, she did add, barring mistakes. We had quite an interesting gossip there while Bill was doing the washing up. But he came back too soon and his presence restricted conversation considerably.
Goodness knows what it’s going to be like when Lena goes home. It’s going to be terrible. I don’t want her to go. She’s part of the family already and she hasn’t been here a week yet. Mum, dad and Jen have taken to her like anything. Found out yesterday she knows 5 foreign languages, English, German, French, Latin, Spanish.
Talking about languages, the man sitting next to me on the train this morning was reading the book ‘Teach Yourself Portuguese’. I’ve seen some queer books being read but that one takes the cake. Come to think of it (and I have been – thinking of it.) I think I’ll get myself teach yourself Swedish to carry on with my Swedish lessons when Lena goes home. I even know how to spell the Swedish 1 – 10 now.
I have just been showing her your Valentine’s card. They don’t have them in Sweden. She was duly impressed and it made me feel so pleased.
A girl at work has a German boy staying with her and she says her father speaks in broken English now. I’m beginning to wonder whether I’ve caught it as well. Just now, instead of ‘don’t have them’ I nearly put ‘don’t have such things.’ She’s always saying that.
Dad has taken your welfare to heart it seems. He remarked that you wouldn’t have any friends at the at the party. D’you think Ron and Brenda would like to come? And would you be offending anyone else if you asked them? Don’t forget to mention to them that we’ve already met at the party at your house, will you?
I love you very much my darling Alan, and there’s only twelve more days until you come home. Isn’t it wonderful?
One of the girls from work came round this evening. (the one that wouldn’t recognise a boy if…….etc. etc.) She said she wanted to come round Sunday, just to see if I’d found Lena ok. And I could see she was dying to meet Lena so I asked her round this evening. We were playing Monopoly all evening and Jennifer was showing off like mad. I could ring her neck sometimes – in fact, often.
Another of the principals is retiring on the 18th August, when I’ll be on holiday. And, y’know, she came up to me today to say goodbye. I thought that was very nice of her, considering she’s not even on my section and I’ve hardly spoken to her. it’s unusual in our place for seniors to be that nice.
Suppose I ought to pack up this scrawl. I had a hard enough job getting up this morning. And my season ticket expired today. I’ve got to queue up for a blasted daily ticket tomorrow. Still, only two more days of work. As I keep telling everyone I meet.
Oh yes! I must give you the address of the holiday camp. Be a dear and send at least one letter there. It is Pontin Holiday Camp, Osmington Bay nr Weymouth Dorset.
Yes, I had better finish. I’m writing this in bed and I think the light is keeping Lena awake.
I think you’re marvellous and I love you and you are much too good for me. I mean it. – we’ll talk when you get home. xxx
It’s a waste of time putting the new date cos there really isn’t anything else to write about. We stayed in tonight. Work was pretty boring as usual.
Pat gave a pint of blood and the way she was walking around you’d think she had been acclaimed as a saint or something.
Lena thinks it so funny because when she was writing her diary this morning she kept putting English words in. She said she was thinking in English.
That’s all I think.
Lots och loads och tons och bags
Of love from
OCH means AND. Ain’t I brilliant?