Saturday, 13 June, 1942

 

The Nurses Home
General Hospital
Nottingham

 Sat: 13th  10.40 p.m. 

Darling Stan,

Another two days and I will have been back in this old place for one week!  It seems longer than five days since I last saw you.  I too, like you, often think of last week – just when I am in the middle of something my thoughts will wander and I wonder what we were doing last week at this time.  One or two of the patients have asked me what is behind my “serene smile”.  Wednesday afternoon I too thought of the previous Wednesday and we two in the garden at Cottingham.*

The weather is pretty miserable here at present.  It is dreadfully cold and has rained all day today.  Kit and myself went out this morning and we had to get a new book for our new course of lectures which start on Monday.  You know, the book I tried to get in Leeds.  It just rained and rained so we went into our little cafe and had tea and biscuits.  I must take you to our little cafe when you come down to see me.  Anyway – the tea cheered us a little so we managed to struggle up the hill to the hospital and eventually on duty.  Kit got a wigging in the meantime for wearing a ring.  She was waiting for me at the top of some stairs when the old  - - - - (Sister Tutor) appeared – spied the ring and pounced upon poor old Kit.  After lecturing her for about 10 minutes she let her go.  Isn’t it ridiculous?

About an hour ago we were up to our eyes in ink!  I broke the nib of my pen this morning (Yes – I know what you will say – careless!)  I suppose you know how difficult it is to even get a new nib these days so I took a nib from an old one I had and attempted to replace my broken one.  After a very long struggle I managed to make it do.  It is a bit on the small side however, so every few minutes I give it a dig and push it back.  I will not make it an excuse for my writing as that is never good at its best.  I will add that it does not improve matters.

It is getting very late darling and I am tired, we have been so busy on duty – so I will say goodnight my love and finish this to-morrow.  And so to sleep, thinking of you.

Sunday  10 a.m.

Another cold and wet day has arrived.  You know Stan – I really think that the sun shone specially for us last week.  I decided to spend my off duty this morning lying between blankets.  These rooms are so cold when the heating is off and it is impossible to write in the lounge with the wireless on and people talking.

What do you think?  Kit and I are working together.  We are both on a women’s medical ward.

I had a good laugh when I read the P.S. in your letters.  Kit wanted to know what the joke was but she did not get to know.

If you could see my neck now!  It is not even “dirty” – just sore with these horrid collars.

I am afraid that I owe you a very humble apology.  The other day I saw a nurse with a piece of music and it was none other than Tschaikowsky’s Concerto in B Flat!  I asked her to play it for me and it is the tune that you have hummed and whistled so often so I go down on my bended knee and beg your worship to forgive me!  Am I forgiven my love?

I had a letter from Vera and she said your Mother had very kindly sent 13 books up with John.

By the way, I definitely shall not have my day off before July 2nd as the ward I am on at present start spring cleaning on the 4th of July so I cannot see that Sister giving anybody a day off for July.  I am missing you Stan and am looking forward so much to our next few hours together.

As I have to get a bit of something done for my exam on Tuesday night I had better stop my letter.  I hope that you get it to-morrow.

All my love darling, Grace xxxxxxx

* Stan's maternal Grandmother, Annie Lettice Spink (nee Farr) lived in Cottingham in the East Riding of Yorkshire.  Her husband, Harry, had died in May, 1939, so she lived alone in her small house on West Green.

Comments

  1. Roger13 June 2024 at 15:19

    I wonder if relatively younger readers know what Grace is writing about when she refers to pen nibs? I still have a wooden holder and a stock of nibs from the dip-and-write days, but have not used them since boyhood and I am now 85. Another good question for a youngster could be "what's a fountain pen?"
    Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 had a lyric written around the open stanza, the opening lines being "Tonight we love, while the moon beams down..." It was on a Tony Martin record in 1941, so Stan and Grace may well have known it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gK_nhZV4xNg

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