Monday, 8 June, 1942

 G.H.N.

Monday  10.30 p.m.   

My Dearest Stan,

I really could not wait until to-morrow to write you – I had to write tonight, so I did a little unpacking, had a bath and retired to bed and here I am – writing to you.  I feel so lonely now that I am back – there is such a feeling of emptiness – is it because I am homesick or lovesick?  How I wish you were here with me now but as you are many miles away I can look back upon the memories of our last 9 days together.  The time cannot go too quickly for me now and every minute that passes I shall think – “well – that is one minute nearer to seeing Stan again”.

You will probably think I am going cracked writing the above but honestly darling I mean every word.

I arrived at the nurses home at 7.40 p.m. and went into supper at 8.15 p.m.  It was an awful concoction of very hard beans – horrid dry potatoes and some sort of tomato flavouring poured over.  The sweet was ice-cream which was quite nice so my supper consisted of ice cream (limited quantity) and one glass of water.  I thought of the meals we had had together.  The teacake (toasted)! and tea at the Gaumont.  The lunch at Schofields and those at our homes.  Ah me .....

Well, my dear, I am going to close my letter.  Not that I have nothing to say.  I have – heaps – but it is 11 p.m. – I have a crick in my neck with writing this in bed (I can never write letters comfortably in bed) and I must get a little sleep before midnight to-night so Good-night my dear.

All my love Grace  xxxxxx