Friday, 11 May 2012
Margaret to Tom 24.4.42
I thought I must write this short note in the hopes it would reach you by Saturday, but one never knows how the Post Office works in such far away regions, who knows, perhaps the Army in those region is so hidden (so secret) that the postman rarely find his way to Oakley Farm which is in my estimation a very old house possibly haunted with rats everywhere & surrounded by huge this trees. I am really writing to remind you that I am fire watching on Sunday evening and if by any chance you should be able to break away from the so called farm, it would be lovely to hear you before I leave home. I shall be leaving about 8.15pm, so if you think of ringing after that time I shall be awaiting you r call on Fin 5101. Mrs Sainsbury has gone to Oxford today and without even telling me. I shall have to tell him off because he could have dropped me at Oxford couldn't he? Shandy was very sorrowful yesterday because you didn't turn up and he cuddled close beside me on the big arm chair. Perhaps he thought he was comforting me – who knows!! Yesterday I took Shandy for a walk in the Recreation Ground and two boys came along with their mourths full of orange and asked me if I would like to buy one for a shilling, so they could go to the pictures. Didn't that made my mouth water! Apart from the fact that I had no money on me, I certainly would not tempt children to give up their oranges for the pictures would you? It is a lovely day today, but rather a cold wind. The sunshine always makes me feel happy and with the prospect of our marriage to look forward to, I feel even happier. I am glad too, that everyone around me is sharing those happy thoughts, because, believe me, it makes all the difference when everyone knows about it & talks of it on occasions. This summer is going to be a lovely one and one which will remain in our memory 'til death us do part"' (Deus volentes) this being about the only bit of latin I know and its probably not right. Well darling I have not received your letter yet, so I cannot answer it. Look after yourself, won;' you? All my love, Margaret, PS have you still go that tract of Mr C's?