Wednesday, July 11
Your letters came today - 4 of them, all dated July 5th. The army post is still very slow, in spite of no censorship, isn't it? It would be much better to use the ordinary English postal service, which you are now allowed to do.
They were very interesting - your thoughts, I mean. The one describing how you enjoyed your first visit home after 3 months away was very sweet. One of the things I have always enjoyed with you, right along, has been writing, or receiving, a letter mulling over the little incidents and pleasure of a few days together. One re-lives it, when writing, or reading about it.
We have hardly ever been together in the summer, so it was especially nice.
I am glad you had the same feeling I did about you telephoning from camp - to talk to "my boy" just before going to sleep gives me a wonderfully comforting sensation - you say you also experience. Try, darling, to stick to your new resolve never to stray too long and too far from your Mummy. An exchange of letters - a few telephone conversations keep the feeling of oneness and closeness from dying.
I wrote you last night; to thank you for the lovely things you sent. That was very sweet of you, darling. I am hugely enjoying the plethora of divine milk chocolate, after having existed on 12 oz. a month for the past 3 months!
Diane came to lunch today and brought me a 2 pound tin of butter! I had two other girls over, and am now feeling very weary after cooking and washing up a somewhat ambitious lunch for 4. I like Diane. She is friendly, unaffected, natural, and basically honest. She is, of course, an undeveloped film, and one does not know what the reel contains. I imagine she will be a pretty swell person in ten years. I am going to see if I can land her a film contract with Lou. I shall not get anything out of it myself - financially - but I like doing things for my friends - I have a gift for friendship and regard friends as being much more important than lovers.
Darling, I am most impatiently waiting to hear what news you have from U.N.R.A.A. So please let me know as soon as you hear anything definite. It would seem too good to be true to have you living in London, seeing you and talking to you on the telephone and that nice feeling of nearness! The change would do you so much good mentally. You should be feeling pretty pleased over the actual prospect of being out of the army in a matter of months perhaps even of weeks! Isn't it WONDERFUL!
It is surely better than your previous pessimistic idea of "The Golden Gate in '48!" Three years better!
If you go to the Continent, as you expected to do, please telephone me as soon as you return, because I have been fearfully anxious over that seizure you had at Kettner's. That doctor knew his business, and the medicine he gave you was a heart stimulant. I don't want you flying round Europe with a bad heart that might conk out at some moment in a plane without a doctor handy!
I imagine you were born with a very strong heart, but typhoid is a terrible strain on all the organs, and five years hard drinking can poison any healthy organ almost beyond repair. Please, please see your doctor right away and tell him all about that attack - and your spells of deep depression
Please do this for your loving Mummy.
You left your little bag here. Did you know? Tam can't find his slippers! Can you remember where you left them?
I keep remembering Saturday night . . . a strange night of complete exaltation - right out of this world.
Tania and Dan send love, so did Diane, who liked you. I will not write any more tonight - I am so very tired. With all your Mummy's heart full of love, and hopes that you are well and happy. (I will not say anything in this letter about the letter from the Finchley girl But I am willing to help in any way I can!)
You have often heard me speak of "Gerry" my mad Redhead - I want you both to meet, for I feel you would like each other. Gerry is now about to come out of the army and returning to America - He knows Dan very well.
Gerry spent most of his leaves, for two years, in this house and he's now one of the family. (What a wrench all these partings are). Two years of one's life is a long time, and Gerry and I never once bored each other. This is surely the best recommendation I could give him -
Tam and Sara
F o u r