So I Have Thought of You

by Penelope Fitzgerald

  John came round this morning and kindly helped with collapsed tyre and total non starting of car: I asked him to lunch next Sunday but he is all booked up with many engagements! Also very busily preparing these lectures, surely it’s very good that he’s been asked to do them? Beard much the same length. He tells me Mrs Packer thinking of coming to Austria for week-end, but I’ve rather ignored this and sent Alison the cost of 7 days holiday in case she could manage this.

  I’ve sent the part of your form that has to go to the college straight to Lady Margaret Hall.

  Had lunch with Auntie Mary and went to see Grandpa’s headstone in the churchyard* – I know this sounds gloomy! But it looks very nice – green slate with lavender rosemary and roses planted in front of it.

  Thinking of you so much and waiting anxiously for another letter. The reports here don’t say there’s any snow! –

  much love always

  Ma X.

  185 Poyndersgarten

  29 January [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  Your last letter which came this morning actually made me laugh (I mean about breaking the skis) which none of the others have, as you can imagine. So glad you can be outside more, instead of inside with the willing infants – one of the great points was to get a few weeks fresh air – I expect fresher but scarcely colder than it is here, for all the things on the line are freezing.

  I’ve had such a horrid Saturday morning – I was looking forward to it so much at the end of a long hard week! I got all dressed up to go down to see 3 art galleries which were said by the Times to be showing pictures by you-know-who, and one gallery was shut, in one the director hadn’t turned up and the tottering uniformed assistant didn’t dare open the safe to take out the Burne-Jones, and in the third the B/J turned out not to be by the Master’s hand at all! When I went to Marks & S. to cheer myself up by getting a petticoat for Louisa (she’s about three quarters finished) I was told sharply that little girls don’t wear petticoats now! And when I got home I found I’d lost my quite new umbrella! (not the broken one – the best one). And when I started distempering the kitchen ceiling I slipped again and broke Daddy’s large bottle of Pear Brandy which was presented to him at Mayrhofen and which he values highly! I haven’t been able to tell him this yet as he’s working today. I feel really low, and I do love a free Saturday – I thought I was really going to get things done: Yesterday evening however I went to see some early English watercolours at Agnews with Mme. De B., and they were very nice: but she’s getting rather tottery – mislaying her bag, &c. – too!

  Tina has been so good, frequently ringing up at her own expense for a chat, so I don’t feel so lonely. She seems to have had a tremendous feed on her birthday, but her digestion is perhaps a bit better now.

  I shd. love to see your red skilehrer’s jersey.

  much love always Ma X

  Poyndersgarten

  12 February [1972]

  Dearest Maria,

  So glad to get another cheerful letter, and about the jam pancakes. But I wonder why there’s no snow, when it seems to fall in the other valleys?

  Electrical blackouts are now in full swing and very boring, as I can’t sew, and everybody talks about them the whole time. I’m hardened to them because of the not-to-be-mentioned Blitz and the frequent crises of the houseboat, but had a very macabre tea-party with Miss Chamot and her Russian companion, Lulette – many samovars, ikon-lamps and silver candlesticks were produced, and many references to the old days. But Miss Chamot was so kind to me and lent me her precious Burne-Jones notebook to look at properly. Yes, his sacred handwriting is now beneath this humble roof! But the lights keep going out!

  I am colouring some book plates I’ve drawn for the Peter Norton baby, to stick in the 5 Beatrix Potters I’ve bought as a christening present, to make them look a bit more individual – but anyway they’re rather expensive now, and I shall leave the prices in! It’s the thought that counts!

  Letter from Liz to say can she come and see us soon, and she’s taken on Guide Camp as well as the lunatics’ outings, crippled classes &c. She really deserves some reward because she’s a good girl. I always feel an absolute swine when I hear what she’s been doing.

  V. hard work at Queens Gate as many staff absent and I feel I’m getting very nasty to the girls, I said something nasty yesterday. I must check this,

  Best love always. X Ma

  Miss Freeston’s

  17 February [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  Daddy says some schnee has fallen so I hope there’s enough cover to please the Lunn Poly’s.

  The christening on Sunday was most strange, 6 families at once in freezing all-glass modern church – fathers were young dockers with moustaches and purple velvet shirts with matching ties, the grannies with pale blue and pink hair and orange velvet trouser suits: it was very good that they’d come to church at all, but the vicar was clearly acting as a kind of missionary and referred to the Our Father as ‘a little prayer we often say’. I was so sorry for Peter and Stella when the lights went out during the christening tea and the children began to howl while others stumbled over the plates of ham and tongue, tea, trifles, whisky, coconut cakes and Guinness. The baby was sweet, but Canvey Island itself is a nightmare, all brand new houses in little squares of earth standing in pools of water, for it’s all practically below sea level, and unmade roads to the ‘estates’. Of course Peter has worked away fitting up cupboards &c. with wood removed from half-built ‘homes’ on other estates. Incidentally the Gaskaren Road houses now look nice, with neat black tiles, but these have been fixed onto damp wooden packing-cases!

  My candle is burning low and Miss F. allowed only one each. I have ‘got’ that you want to head home on the 26th, though, and if more snow falls, and if Daddy can take me out in March, it would be lovely to be out there together, however I expect you have made arrangements of your own with John and needless to say it would be lovely to see you at any time.

  Lady Hardinge on Sunday (she’s turned off all light and heat to help the country’s economy) and Tenants’ Association meeting tonight –

  much love Ma

  [postcard from St Deiniol’s, Hawarden]

  [14 July 1972]

  Dearest Ria, All well here but they have locked the gate in the park which led to the dogs’ cemetery: however I climb over it. Have got wool from Latchie shop, where tea-cosies well understood. Hawarden choir have won at the Eisteddfod and this is the main topic of conversation.

  much love Ma

  Sunday 18 July [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  By the time you get this you’ll be in Teheran – so I can safely congratulate you on your tremendous undertaking. But at the moment I calculate you’re sitting in St Mark’s square with the pigeons, while I’m turning out the flat, also with the pigeons outside, but there the resemblance ends,

  I am giving your walls another coat of good quality olive as can’t afford more undercoat, but taking down the posters that were stuck up with glue large portions of the wall came away and the posters also tore, some of them – I’m so sorry but my only consolation is that you spoke of changing everything and I expect you will have acquired many fairings from the bazaars and souks of the mysterious mid-orient.

  Tina is getting on all right with the Major – he is very nice it seems and says ‘Excellent, what ho!’ no matter what she cooks. Awkward moments though when the dotty wife comes back and tells Tina about her tensions: however I’m sure Tina has told you all this.

  I have at last got a lustre Sunderland plate, with THE LORD WILL PROVIDE – like I used to have. I went into a shop where I’ve been before, to talk to the nice queer man about them, and I asked if he had any cracked ones for £1 or £2, and he said ‘Yes, you can have this’ – and it’s hardly cracked at all, and was marked £10 in the window! I thought these things only happened in TV serials!

  much love always Ma

  [Poynders Gardens]

  23 July [1972] />
  Dearest Maria,

  Sitting on the sofa peering through my small, eccentric looking spectacles (I don’t have to sit near the light now and it’s a much better olive – if only I could leave the 4th wall you’d see the difference!) I’ve just been dragging the furniture about and I think I have broken my leg, but I’ll tell you whether I have or not in my next letter: in any case I am stained indelibly olive green. It won’t come off my legs at all, and makes me look like something from a horror movie.

  Really I haven’t any news at all except the story of Tina, the Major and his mad wife, and this I am sure she is telling you in her letters: whereas you must have so many things to tell you won’t know where to start. I’m longing to hear about the Yugoslav – Turkish border and the Turkey – Teheran part – holiday snaps! Holiday stories! At the moment I imagine Nigel and Jan drifting in a gondola ‘neath the Adriatic stars and him recklessly using the whole 30 shillings a day standing her a cassata, but perhaps it wasn’t like this.

  Eddie, the slobby Irishman, is back – I heard him saying to a lady in the yard ‘aren’t you glad to see me again?’ but she did not reply. Next door they’ve bought a budgie, which stands outside moulting in a very common-looking cage. The little girls take no notice of her whatever. I wish they’d go away on holiday.

  I must now start getting ready for my trip to Iona – I have given Daddy the money, but he has not given me the tickets, so I am rather anxious. I’ve been watching the Commonwealth Games on TV and see that there is a high wind and rain and that Keino, the gold-medal miler, says the weather is fit for ships, not men, so I suppose a thick jersey and mac? I expect you’ve forgotten such things exist!

  There’s a national dock strike here which saves a lot of trouble, as there is nothing in the shops and I can’t afford what there is.

  much love always. how is Hettie? not lost I trust? X

  Ma

  [postcard of Abbey Church of St Mary, Iona]

  26 July [1972]

  Just to show you what the abbey is like. – Had a lovely bus trip across Scotland, with a stop for hot scones, then a boat to Mull and a fishing-boat to Iona.

  Lovely weather with just a silver haze, large sheep and tiny cattle. – Hope all goes well –

  much love – miss you so much! Ma

  5 August [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  Feeling rather low, as I’ve just rung up Valpy and he was rather grand and said I’m afraid I can’t talk to you now we have dinner guests; and Mrs Packer (now reconciled with Mr P. and off for a motoring holiday through bonnie Scotland) who tells me that James left long ago because of indigestion, and the girls went on at him so, and that Nigel actually had a crash near Venice, now all this is happily over but I think you might have told me! I expect you didn’t want me to fuss, but I do that anyway. I felt such a fool talking to Mrs P.

  Tina came up to London yesterday. I met her at Waterloo and we went on a shoe-buying expedition – very tiring but we got 2 smart pairs, one black and one brown – but Tina already declares she’ll never wear them! Also a nice pair of hoop ear-rings with a small gold ball in them. She seems a bit tired, it’s an exhausting job, but truly worthwhile as the poor major is helpless without her. I expect she told you how Mrs Dooley went on strike in the new semi-detached at Bristol about the stereo recorder and the new noise-making attachment bought by the boys – it seems it had great effect as she’s never screamed at them like that before! She simply said she couldn’t stand it another moment!

  I’m going down to Suffolk tomorrow to see Rawle and Helen – but now they’re queerly miffed because I don’t want to spend the night – I want to come back and climb into my own familiar bed where I know I shall sleep soundly! Signs of old age! I expect you sleep like a top on a few stones on a Greek beach – but I had poor nights in my bunk at the Abbey at Iona – apart from the fact that there are only 3 hours darkness in the Hebrides in the summer.

  Thankyou so much for your letter and I’m glad you liked the camels – I was also struck with the horses in Turkey, some of them were so fine looking, with small feet. Longing to hear about Persia (as I call it). Valpy off to Karachi on Thursday, with grand new tropical tailor-made suit: that’s why I want to see him and Angie off to Don Rafael and the Señora for 2 months. They’re so rich and grand now, and to think I used to cut down my things to make his dungarees! I remember taking him for his first haircut! Yes, I’m in a bad way! Perhaps I’d better have a glass of sherry!

  Much love dearest M

  185 Poynders Gardens, sw4

  13 October [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  Still worried about your evident weakness, and your poor delicate thin neck coming out of your newly-made red pinafore, but I hope you’ll be able to get good regular meals and put back your strength. The final blow to our scheme of a Mediterranean holiday which would set you up for the winter!

  John seemed quite enthusiastic about Wolfson North 2, and drew a diagram (which of course I couldn’t follow) of exactly where it was, and I was impressed with the 2 armchairs and 2 razor-points, it does seem you’ve been fortunate, although of course I don’t know the LMH rooms at all – I’m looking forward to having a peek at them. It was kind of him to call in and tell me, as I was more than anxious about you. Tina rang up, too.

  I can’t pretend that much has happened! I could not face going to Miss Bell’s choral reading of The Waste Land this evening, and fighting my way back in the underground – but she was very hurt and said she had made the exact number of sausage-rolls – I feel terrible and I also feel that I’m getting too feeble to go out at all and I shall become quite inhuman – I feel so tired at the end of the day I can’t think what to do.

  Daddy has started clipping those tickets again! He says everything is in chaos and all the staff have left. He never did drill the holes in that chest, and now Peter wants the drill back again, so there was not much point dragging it up and down! However I’ve impressed on him that other things being equal we’ll come to Oxford next Sat: but you must let us know about your matriculation –

  much love dear

  your Ma

  P.S. You’ve now rung up and I’ve said all these things: but I might as well send it.

  Tina says matric: takes either all morning or all afternoon, but you must let us know if you think there’d be no point in our coming. Daddy has now fixed the key plate on the chest, and it looks nice: it’s the first time he’d used a Black & Decker and he was thrilled. I wish I had one, I could sand and polish everything

  Queens Gate, sw7

  26 October [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  I feel I’m definitely getting past it as I look forward to the end of the day so much! When I’m asked out to various dreary festivities I can’t face them, I’m longing to creep home to a bath and cup of tea! But then I’ve always been amazed at your energy in going out. I must go to Mme. De B’s club next Monday to have tea with her (I dread the club because I think the superior attendant in the Ladies’ cloaks always takes my coat with distaste: but I could wear my new suit perhaps) – I want to see my old friend but I already dread not being able to go straight home! On Tuesday I went to the Old Vic with some of the girls to see Olivier in Long Day’s Journey into Night and we went in a coach and had a chicken dinner first, but even so I could hardly keep awake! It was wonderfully acted, but Olivier got very red and I was afraid he would collapse. Tina told me that she also dozed off during the last act. I’m so glad the student has now come to MacEntee and will take some of her classes and give her a breathing space so that she’ll be less tired – she has put so much into it and done so well that I’m afraid she’ll be reduced to a skeleton.

  I am doing a bit of cleaning and decorating at the flat every evening – half-an-hour before I start correcting – at the moment all Tina’s old books are in the hall but hard work will get it straight. I am longing to get on with my little bit of writing but you can’t do it after work, your brain is so empty,
so I get on with other things and shall have a good go in the holidays.

  I did enjoy the visit so much and am looking forward to the 4th. Auntie Mary would love to come, so it will be a real family outing, rather a strain for you but I’m sure your courage is equal to it!

  Needless to say I have got some Viyella and baby wool but they are so expensive I have modified my ideas of making an extensive layette – I’m sure Angie doesn’t want it anyway, as grannie’s ideas are always hopeless. But I must just make one or 2 things. Oh dear, I wish Baby wasn’t going to Peru for 2 years, I shall miss so many Stages of Development.

  I can’t stand the new French lady, she is covered in hair and talks ceaselessly of what she said to her husband, who, she claims, constantly begs her to lie down and rest, but she won’t do so even if he has tears in his eyes, because she knows that everything at home depends on her.

  Longing to hear about all you’re doing and what your work is like –

  much love, dear

  Ma.

  Could we 4 have lunch in Hall on Saturday. I will pay you back of course for lunch tickets.

  Miss Freeston’s

  21 November [1972]

  Dearest Ria,

  My candidates are all ready now to sit for Ox: and Camb: tomorrow – including Charlotte, I suppose, though I haven’t seen her lately – they are quite green, and cannot sleep – pity them!

  Feel much better for the trip to Paris except my feet – quite worn out with the tramping round Les Halles &c, and the Louvre of course, but we were careful not to look at too much. Seine embankment not quite built over yet, so we were able to walk about in the nice clear sunlight and we negotiated the metro very creditably.