I’ll tell you one thing, though, Willie, and that’s about Jay and his move north – I take it he could do his new job from there, but the reason you feel Beatriz is in duty bound to go with him is because he’s your son – if it was Carlos moving you wouldn’t feel that Anne ought to give up everything and accompany him, because she’s your daughter.
But I’m glad they’re all doing so well. The Silent Man is obviously going to continue thinking about nothing but security until his dying day. You remember the first Christmas he came up to Terry Bank he was left with Mike while you all went to church – What did they talk about?: Security.
This is the first Palm Sunday since we came to Highgate that I haven’t been to early morning service. I’ve got all my Palm Sunday crosses stuck behind a picture. I could get up to church all right, but I dread not being able to get up from a kneeling position – just think of it, Willie, the embarrassment, the vicar kindly putting out a helping hand &c. I shall be down in Cornwall with Tina on Easter Sunday, and perhaps I shan’t be able to manage it then.
However, at least I have a golden pen – only gold-plated, I fear, but anyway it was awarded to me at the Café Royal on International Writers Day, for my (alleged) services to literature – Willie, the Café Royal is getting so tarnished and worn-out looking – statues chipped, curtains coming off their hooks, and a horrible lunch with hard roast chicken which you could scarcely bite into – however all the writers turned up and I just about managed to get up and down from the platform without collapsing in a heap.
My Siberian violets are out: But I expect yours have been out for weeks.
Dear Willie and Mike, do look after yourselves – all my love and best wishes –
Mops
P.S. I loved the prayer. But what possessed you to show it to Diana?
27a Bishop’s Road
Highgate
Monday 17 May [1999]
Dearest Willie,
Thankyou for the lovely de Morgan tile. It’s quite true, we used to find them, or bits of them, washed up with the tide at Battersea. Of course it’s all been smartened up now.
You’ll notice that my writing’s gone to pieces, another result of this cursed rheumatism, or arthritis, or whatever it is. But I feel ashamed (really, deeply ashamed) of making these complaints when I have no real responsibilities and even at the moment I’m lying warm in bed – which is the best place, you know, Willie, after all – and you have these many worries and anxieties. – I thought steroids were drugs that disqualified you from the Olympics – I’m not surprised they make you feel odd. But as for loss of short term, or indeed long term memory, or what you call general dottiness, you mustn’t let that worry you, that is just the mind resting itself. It will be perfectly all right when it’s done that. I’ve now got to a stage when I not only don’t remember people’s names and faces but read through the instructions (let’s say) on a packet of Tikka Masala, throw the packet away, then find I’ve clean forgotten them and have to go all through the rubbish to get the packet back again. – I’ve just had a letter thanking me for agreeing to judge the Marsh Biography Prize and referring to some dinner or other where it’s going to be awarded. But I can’t remember anything about the Marsh Biography Prize – not a single thing – my mind is a total blank.
So you see. But the headaches are something else again. Anything is better than pain, I sometimes think.
How does Mike keep going? Well, I know the answer to that – it’s because you are there to look after him. But he’s wonderful, he really is. Oh dear, it does seem a long time – it is a long time, since we were driving past High Street and he said ‘Well, I shall never walk along High Street again.’ But he doesn’t dwell on things – if they can’t be helped, he just accepts them.
Luke is just about to take his G.C.S.E.s – they have a ‘leavers’ party at his school (sorry, his community centre) – much anxiety as a suit has to be hired and he is too thin for all the suits in Plymouth and Exeter – he just gets taller and thinner. Poor Jemima has broken her arm – can’t play basketball, can’t play the piano – she feels it’s a tragedy, whereas I can remember how relieved I was at my horrible prep school when I broke my arm and didn’t have to ‘join in’ with anything, particularly the dreaded Chocolate Box Dance. – As for Greg’s wedding, I really don’t think I can get to Cordoba at the end of August. It will be so dreadfully hot, and he cheerfully says we shall all be expected to dance until dawn. And then they (i.e. Greg and Lidia) are going to Australia, bushwhacking or roo-trapping or whatever for 3 months and then coming back to Oxford with nothing to live on, Valpy says they really can’t live with him.
It’s awful how you don’t want to do things any more! I’ve been asked to do a speaking tour of Italy, staying in nice places, but the very thought of it! Yet I suppose even ten years ago I should have been quite glad to go.
I must tell you that the Siberian violets are ignoring the fact that they’re planted in heavy clay and have taken over more or less completely. And it’s such a good year for the Wisteria. Everyone who walks past the house stops to look up at it, and it’ll be out again in the autumn, so there’s that to look forward to – (I have to prevent myself from smiling at them out of the window – a kindly old lady gibbering at complete strangers)
All my love to you both,
Mops.
27a Bishop’s Road
Highgate
13 January 2000
Dearest Willie,
Once again this is not at all a letter that needs answering, it’s really just to tell you that I’ve spent your kind Christmas present on 1: superior olive oil which is one of my great treats – it doesn’t really fry well at all but it is wonderful in salads and the smell of it brings up a wonderful Mediterranean moment, 2: a new African violet, as I’d been raising cuttings from the old one for so long that the underside of the leaves was plain green – not purple any longer and so half the beauty of the plant was lost and 3: a new pair of sharp scissors – nail scissors really: Now these things constitute a splendid Christmas present.
Christmas in this house was almost entirely electronic – Ria had a new laptop and Tom some contraption or other (not a new e-mail, he had that some time ago), and Alfie had an electronic chess set, which at least stopped him offering everyone a game of the dreaded Pokeimon, a Japanese card game – the name I understand is short for Pocket Monsters – anyway, all of them sat clicking, whirring and emitting those short bursts of irritating music – it was quite a relief when the time came to play murders in which I always do my very best even though I’m still secretly very much relieved when the lights are turned on again.
I’m still lame and have decided never to go out in the evening unless I’m driven from door to door. Still we did manage the pantomime at Richmond which meant driving past the Dome to which Maria is gamely going to take the children – she tried to book tickets on the internet, but apparently they’re not selling them for February yet. We saw the fireworks from Kenwood, quite a good viewpoint – we didn’t walk down to the river as Alfie is only seven and was already pale with exhaustion. Lidia and Greg (Valpy’s oldest) came, having got married two months ago. She was a sweet girl and gets along like a house on fire with Angelines (Valpy’s wife), an old-fashioned Spanish mother-and-daughter-in-law relationship. Eddie (the cat) took great exception to all the celebrations and will only just deign to eat out of his bowl. But it was lovely to have all 3 children together (children! Valpy is 51) – I hardly ever do.
Very best wishes for your health and Mike’s and all my love, Mops.
Rachel Hichens and Elizabeth Barnett*
185 Poynders Gardens
London, sw4
17 April [c.1966]
My dear Rachel,
It was such a lovely holiday (the weather didn’t matter a bit, people were sweeping piles of dirty snow off their doorsteps in London) and your vicarage is a wonderful place where you make people really feel at home and not a bit in the way in spite of t
he large numbers.
We feel much better for the visit, Zennor is beautiful, (much more beautiful than Fowey which was the last bit of Cornwall I visited surely) and apart from that it was such fun to see you again and I feel very proud of my god-daughter – when I think that I’ve got to go back on Tuesday to my pupils (one turns up in an old postman’s uniform with a fore and aft cap and another in a plastic leopard-skin shift, and all need black coffee before they can start work) and think how pretty and cheerful Elizabeth is and how she’s clearly well able to take on the whole household, I wonder how you could possibly worry about her even slightly, but I suppose if it’s true that ‘God sends the love with the child’ he also sends the worry with the parents!
Maria tells me that she did go up to Zennor Head when she went for a ride, so she did send it after all, and I’m pleased about this – she tells me that she’s writing a letter, but it’s to Liz, and to her school, apparently.
Thankyou again for letting us come down to see you, and love to Tom, and to everyone –
Mops
I hope the leaking church roof is all right, and you get your little bookcase at the auction.
I’m just opening this because I’ve had a letter from Mary – thanking you 1000 times for the kind offer of having them to stay or letting them stay in the cottage, it was so very kind of you to say ‘yes’ like that at once – but she now thinks that Daddy oughtn’t after all, to take any kind of a long journey this year – she thought perhaps next year – though I’d have thought that more uncertain, but she always knows best about him and I’m glad to accept her judgement – I don’t want you to think that Daddy is a total wreck, but he’s simply old, and fragile – not ill – it was he who said how much he’d like to come down to Cornwall once again, but as I say Mary now feels she ought to keep him in Hampstead though I know she needs a holiday very much herself. – Please forgive this muddle. – love Mops
Theale Post Office Stores
Wedmore
Somerset:
(most weekends)
[1981]
And this really is my home, as Tina and Terry are running after the baby and keeping the tiny shop and post office there. Don’t forget if you’re coming through the West Country!
Very sorry to hear from Liz that Tom hasn’t been very well, but I hope and trust that he’s better now.
The wedding must have been a wonderful occasion, not many people can say they’ve been married on a rock cut off by the sea* and it’s so nice that he’s a farmer, a lovely country life ahead for the grandchildren,
Love and Xmas wishes and best of good things for 1982 –
Mops
[Christmas card of Theale P.O. drawn by PMF]
[1983]
Lovely to see Liz, but I thought she was staying much longer, or perhaps might decide not to go back!* But I do admire her. – Best wishes for Christmas and 1983 to you and all your family and much love to you both
This is Tina and Terry’s post office and village stores at Theale.
[postcard]
15 May 1985
Dear Liz – Thankyou so much for letter – unfortunately I shall be down at Theale during week of June 8 – I’ve got time off from school as Terry has to be away and so I’m going to help Tina with Luke and with another baby she takes in during the day (as well as a disabled one on Wednesdays). Very best luck with your talk in West Hendon, I know you’re well used to giving them however. And please let me know, won’t you, if you’ve got another day. Hope you survive all these late nights!
love
Mops
[c.1985/6]
A little Theale lavender though I’m sure you have plenty! So nice to see Liz this summer, but I wonder where she’s going next. Many congratulations on new grandbaby – with best Christmas wishes from Mops –
27a Bishop’s Road
Highgate
London, N6
2 October [1991]
My dear Rachel,
Just a note to say how delighted I was at Liz’s news, she sounded so happy, as though after travelling all over the world she’d really ‘come home’ – surely it’s the right thing happening to the right person and you and Tom must be very happy for her too
love and best wishes
Mops
27a Bishop’s Road
London, N6
2 October [1991]
My dear Liz –
I’m told this paper is for writing letters of congratulations* and there couldn’t be a better occasion – I know that one shouldn’t congratulate the she, only the he, but whatever one should or shouldn’t do I want to tell you how happy I am about your happiness, and, my word, Liz, if anyone knows how to manage a parish and parishioners, it must be you. In every way he’s a lucky man, but I could tell from the way you talked about him that you consider yourself lucky also. What could be better?
This is just a note, which I wanted to write at once.
love and all possible best wishes –
Mops
27a Bishop’s Road
Highgate
London, N6
8 November [1991]
My dear Rachel,
Thankyou so very much for the invitation to Liz’s wedding on the 7th of December – I should so very much have liked to come, particularly as it would have meant seeing you and Tom again after all these years, but most unfortunately for me I’m due to fly back from Australia on that day – (this trip to Tasmania has been nothing but a nuisance) – I wish her every possible happiness and at least I shall be able to think of you on the 7th. – If you could manage to send a photograph among all the thousand and one other things you have to do, I’d be most grateful. A photograph, of course, with you and Tom in it, if you ever have a moment – with many regrets and much love, Mops
You’ll forgive me for sending this unseasonable Christmas card as well – I’ve had to do everything early, but I feel you’ll understand this –
Milton Abbott
Devon
16 April [1993]
Dear Tom and Rachel,
I’m sure no-one else but you would have asked anyone to stay, or allowed anyone to stay, so soon after such a serious operation – no matter how many carers, gardeners, milkmen &c had been recruited to help – and I did appreciate that, and do appreciate it, but can’t regret it, because it was such a treat to see you after so long, and honestly, Rachel, you were getting the better of it all so bravely and perseveringly that I couldn’t feel depressed. And what a chance to see Richard and Lis – Maria has always remembered (although I daresay he won’t) how he showed her round Exeter Cathedral – I can’t think when this can have been, but Exeter, not Truro – and she says it’s the one cathedral she’s always felt she knows properly. – He’s a person of great kindness and efficiency. And you could see how happy dear Lis was – she seems to have sailed into exactly the right harbour and I’m so glad for her.
The taximan tells me he’ll always remember Perch Cottage in future, so I’ve added a little to humanity’s store of knowledge. – Tina and family were all at Plymouth, where we went to have a picnic on the Hoe in a stiff breeze. They’re going to move to a bigger house in Launceston, if they can find one, but I think they’ll always miss the elms, and the rooks, and the church green at Milton Abbott. You’ve moved such a lot of times, you’ll know exactly the feeling.
Lamorna was looking marvellous, with so many violets on the path round the head, that they were almost in layers. It will be a great day when Rachel takes her first walk beyond the garden – with many thanks for all your hospitality and much love – Mops.
27a Bishop’s Road
Highgate, N6
18 September [1993]
My dear Rachel,
(Why did your mother use to call you ‘Racon’, I wonder – was it because that’s the way you pronounced the name yourself?) – I was very distressed to get Liz’s letter telling me that you were in hospital again, although you’d been so much better that you were driving
– I felt that you had been through quite enough and more than enough, and so gallantly, (if you don’t mind my saying so), and that it hardly seemed right for you to have to bear any more pain – abdominal pain, Liz said, although she also speaks of thrombosis of the spine – but perhaps it’s of no use to explain things to anyone as mentally ignorant as I am. I can only say how sorry I am and wish you the hell out of the place as soon as it’s at all possible. I did think that you had some remarkably helpful and friendly people to lend a hand at Perch Cottage, and Lis said she had found someone to housekeep for Tom.
I don’t know whether you want to hear my bits of news when you have so many other things to think about – but here goes – Valpy, as I think I told you, has come back to Oxford from the Hague, although he still has a contract with the Mexican government (whatever that is) and has to go over there every so often, and they’ve bought a house some way up the Woodstock road with plenty of cupboards and fruit bushes and a fruit cage – not near any shops, but I think they’ll like it – Valpy’s eldest at Durham, reading Physics, which entre nous I think is too difficult for him – Tina and Terry still teaching (at Bude and Launceston) and the handicapped 2nd child is making immense progress – I must say Devon and Cornwall are both very good in this department – and here in Highgate the baby, Alfie, is walking, and John, Ria’s husband, has to go to Frankfurt 3 times a week at the moment – That’s what comes of knowing about money. Of Rawle I haven’t such good news, I am afraid he definitely has Parkinsons, but although it is progressive they can slow it down much better than they used to. – Don’t think about that, think about getting better – I enclose some wishing dolls!!! and my best wishes and love to you and Tom – Mops
So I Have Thought of You Page 26