by Doreen Bates
WEDNESDAY 4 DECEMBER
I can’t write anything. I told E about ES and E does love and wants me. I am torn in two. I feel despicable. What can I do? I love them both.
MONDAY 9 DECEMBER
Too upset to write anything of what has been happening since Wednesday about ES and E.
TUESDAY 10 DECEMBER
Feeling clearer, but I can’t begin to externalize this appalling conflict. But I slept last night and consequently felt less worn out. For the first time since last Tuesday I didn’t cry at lunch.
THURSDAY 12 DECEMBER
Still disturbed but happier – it feels as though there can be only one end – to cleave to E, at whatever cost to him, to me, to ES and to K.
TUESDAY 17 DECEMBER
I can’t let today go without a note. The dilemma is still appalling and insoluble but today has been glorious. E has risen from the dead. He wants me, wants me as much as he ever did. That is the one overwhelming fact – miraculous, unbelievable, mad but true. He is suddenly alive – alive altogether. We went to St Sepulchre’s. There was a gramophone recital, a suite for strings by Purcell and a Mendelssohn piano concerto. It was glorious – we just listened and I held his hand – and we were completely one, even physically, though only our hands touched, I wore my red frock and he looked at it. A day of blinding glory! Even the sun shone. And here all alone in the silence at 11.00 my heart glows with the remembrance. What will come of it, I don’t know. I love ES but on quite another plane.
WEDNESDAY 18 DECEMBER
Still in a dream – an urgent dream – so urgent that I have planned with E to go to Elsie’s rented room early tomorrow to complete the resurrection of our love! We lunched and then sat in St Ethelburga’s for 20 minutes. During the last week he has said to me such words as I longed, but did not know I longed, to hear – a sweet ecstasy – fiery splendour, marred only by the bitter sorrow of knowing how ES must suffer – or, if not he, then E himself.
THURSDAY 19 DECEMBER
A quick note of a red-letter day. I must love E very much to get up at 6 am, catch the 7.13 pitch dark train to meet him at Victoria and go to Elsie’s room to fuck before going to the office. I suppose we had 45 minutes or an hour and it was sweet, lovely! I had forgotten what it could be like with him. We went to St Sepulchre’s at lunchtime to hear a record of Schnabel playing Beethoven’s Emperor Sonata. Different from Tuesday but lovely. Tuesday was a fiery dawn; today a serene sunset – a calm sweet echo of the morning.
FRIDAY 27 DECEMBER
A week of changes – most important. E came last Saturday at 8.45 and for three hours we loved before I had to rush for the 12.14. It was lovely – lovely. We lit the gas fire in the hall and had the electric fire too as it was a bitterly cold day. It was one of the most successful fucks we have ever had, so sweet and wild and glorious. He said I never reacted with so much movement. He gave me at lunch today a kind of poem he wrote afterwards about it. I love him completely and utterly.
But I love ES too. He is still not well but better after kissing me. I don’t know what to do about him. To have E’s baby while he is working next door will be brutal. I should like to write down the lovely things that E has said to me in the last 2 weeks but I can’t. I just keep them like jewels to gloat over – to remember when I am sad.
MONDAY 30 DECEMBER
A wild, damp day. The raid last night was on the City. This was announced in the 8.00 news so I was not surprised to find at 8.45 at Purley that London Bridge was off. I finally reached Victoria at 10.15. Remarks in the train, ‘All the Surrey fire engines were in the city last night’ – ‘You could see the fire from the hills all night and at 6.30 it was just as big.’
The District wasn’t running east of St James’s Park so I tried a bus. A man said you couldn’t get into the city at all but buses were going to Bloomsbury. I walked from Bury Place (by the BM) to Walsingham House. Along Holborn no change till I got to Wallis where there were some new broken windows; Negretti & Zambras had been burnt and another building opposite Holborn Viaduct. The station seemed intact; St Sepulchre whole; Holborn tube had a notice: no Central Line trains further east (but I discovered they were running to Liverpool St missing Post Office). There were clouds of smoke in Farringdon St looking both ways from the viaduct; at Newgate Street I was turned off by a barrier and went down to Ludgate Hill. There, hoses and fire engines all the way and several buildings round St Paul’s still burning, but the thing that moved me most in all this obscene squalor was the Christmas tree outside St Paul’s still bravely burning, bearing its star and all its coloured lights.
Along Cannon St there seemed little more damage; Southwark and London Bridge were intact but clouds of smoke were rising from fire on the south bank; Eastcheap was unchanged and I was just beginning to think I had come through the worst when I turned a corner and saw more smoke than ever in clouds round Mark Lane station and All Hallows and the Tower. I turned up Mark Lane and into Hart St and quite expected to find Walsingham House hit but it wasn’t damaged at all, though the buildings opposite the PLA in Seething Lane were still burning. At one place I saw a notice – Danger: Falling Walls. The whole office reeked with the acrid smell of damp smoke.
Two and a half hours (lunch and coming home) with E have made today supportable. It was lovely, and we may just possibly have Sunday together.
1941
SUNDAY 5 JANUARY
E phoned at 11.0 to say that K had decided to go to town so he would be free. I phoned Elsie to ask if we could come and see her first. She was in and said ‘Yes’ cordially so we went. She gave me some lunch to prepare – bacon and egg, Ryvita, prunes and coffee and then went out and left us. So we had a lovely peaceful time together by the fire from 1.0–4.15. First lunch, then fucked from 1.30–3.30, about; then just sat quietly and talked. We made the most of our rare opportunity to enjoy privacy in comfort. He did not use a French letter but I cannot be very hopeful that we shall start a baby this time as it is the wrong bit of the month. Still, perhaps –! And it was a lovely fuck to commemorate with a baby. I should so love to have it (except for the sake of ES).
SUNDAY 12 JANUARY
At 7.45 yesterday morning E phoned and suggested meeting at the Monument at 9.0. I rushed and left home about 8.20. Got a lift halfway to the station and reached London Bridge at 8.55. We had coffee at Fullers for 30 minutes. In the afternoon I went to Golders Green with ES, and we had a couple of hours to ourselves. I made him dismal by talking about E but I felt I must be certain of not misleading him. He said he was quite clear about the position and didn’t want to talk about it. I still love him in his way and I feel a pig.
SATURDAY 18 JANUARY
A lovely, lovely day, hideous outside – cold and snowing all day and a bad start; a cold wet half hour waiting for E at Victoria. He had not got up till 8.30 owing to a mistake in his clock. By then Elsie would have started for her office. I tried and failed to get her on the phone at the house. So we walked through the driving snow to her office and found she hadn’t arrived. E waited in the hall while I went to try to phone again and failed, but when I got back to the office E said she had come, so we went up and warmed ourselves by her fire and smoked a cigarette for 20 minutes and talked. Then we went back to Victoria to get a bus to her room. We got there about 10.30 and turned on the fire. We were soon warm and dry. Then we loved. It was one of the quickest and loveliest fucks we have ever had – so easy and light-hearted and gorgeous, just unbelievably lovely. It was a kind of vivace fuck. Afterwards we dressed and were peaceful and quiet from 11.30–1.15. We went on loving on a smaller level but still nice, like echoes of music coming and going. I didn’t want to go out into the snow, and yet I minded less than sometimes as we had had the quiet after our vivace. It was complete, a rounded cadence, I thought as we walked towards Victoria. I shan’t mind being killed by a bomb tonight after such a perfect morning.
I lunched with ES. I hadn’t wanted to but I didn’t mind at all. I was glad in a way that he shoul
d get the benefit individually of our happiness, for he did – a kind of reflected glow. So did Rosa; I met her in Croydon during a warning. She was rather nervous and the flag was up at the Town Hall signifying imminent danger. We went to Grants but their shelter was closed, so we went to Kennards and spent 45 minutes buying a carpet for the dining room. It is to be delivered on Wednesday and Rosa is very pleased. It gave me a lot of pleasure to let her have it, so one way and another this has been a lovely day.
SUNDAY 19 JANUARY
It has turned warmer and the ice and snow on the roads has begun to melt, a dangerous process as it was like wet glass. But so pleasant to feel a soft wind and see blue sky and sunshine. I caught the 1.43 to Victoria and ES met me there and we went to Golders Green. We had one and a half hours – tea and the Pathétique sonata and then he came back to Victoria with me. Rosa and Margot went to a fire watching meeting and learned a few hints on tackling incendiaries. Margot volunteered for herself and me. I have also volunteered at the office ‘if enough other people do’. It seems mean to leave it to the men just because women are not yet to be compelled.
MONDAY 20 JANUARY
A continuously bad day, pouring rain, cold wind, the relics of frozen snow under foot – dark and dismal. Lunched with E; he was still glowing after Saturday morning and so was I. He said he thought the books were wrong in saying a man should take care to warm up a woman slowly – I was as quick as he.
WEDNESDAY 22 JANUARY
Last night was quiet. At 9.30 a warden called Beckett came and Margot and I became Fire Spotters 28 and 29 respectively. We have to watch till midnight on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. He took our full names, ages and professions as the Council insure us. We have been given the post phone number about which there was a mystery. We must not divulge it to anyone. When we spot a fire we have to blow whistles and phone the post. Beckett advised not to volunteer at the office.
MONDAY 27 JANUARY
A quiet night and day. Rather depressed. It was lovely to see E at lunch. We arranged to go to Elsie’s room on Wednesday afternoon. He had read 37 chapters of Pillars* I lent him and liked it. But ES was very sweet and had written me a letter in French. I felt a pig to him. I can’t love him as I love E and he knows it; he says he just doesn’t want to talk about it and ignores it as far as possible. I don’t mind if this satisfies him, but of course it doesn’t and he is jealous at times. Still, he does enjoy doing as much as we do.
SATURDAY 1 FEBRUARY
A devastating day. I had the morning off and met E. We went to Elsie’s room and just saw her before she went to the office. It was lovely; we fucked for half an hour and then had coffee and sat peacefully till 1.0. It was sweet but I had a sort of ‘last time’ feeling in the end, probably because Elsie is having to give up the room and move to Leamington as she has a new job in the Camouflage Department of the Home Office.
I met ES for lunch and he told me I had had a move to Belfast (HO Relief), to report 3.3.41. I was simply dazed and couldn’t take it in. He was desolate but said I needn’t go to Belfast if I don’t want to as I have a good case of domestic hardship. I should hate it in peacetime, but in wartime with travel difficulties and curtailed leave I should be completely isolated. It would be hideous. We went to Grey Close and I was just dismal. I don’t want to leave E or ES or Margot.
I am just flattened out.
MONDAY 3 FEBRUARY
The whole day I have been concentrated on my move to Belfast. Saw John this morning. He was surprised and said he was sorry ‘but not too hopeful about the possibility of getting the move altered or cancelled’. He was not pleased with the prospect at City 10 as Herrick has had a Special, is a year junior to me and is likely to get a move quickly if he is promoted. He offered to arrange an interview with White who is PI (Establishment) at Somerset House. I went to see him this afternoon and he advised me to take the move. I might get a worse one if I protested! Northern Ireland districts were pleasant and had good conditions of work! I might get a district there after a short time! I should probably be there at least 4 or 5 years, as the law was different and it would be wasteful to move people there for a short time. E was upset when I told him at lunchtime, but hardly realized what it meant. ES was sweet to me and refrained from expressing how it upset him but considered only how it would affect me. I don’t know whether to write to Loach or not. White said definitely that he would not attach weight to the hardships in my case. It seems to me I must either resign or go. The only thing to do if I go is to have a baby there, tho’ this would be difficult. It would be miserable cut off from everyone completely. Except in emergency it is impossible to get a permit to visit England more than once in 6 months, and even letters are censored. I am just devastated. It will be almost impossible ever to see E.
TUESDAY 4 FEBRUARY
The great topic is still Belfast. I have done very little work. ES is miserable and I find I still love him quite a lot. So he was a little less miserable tonight. I went to lunch with E late as John had kept me. E had slept badly. So had I. McAdam came in and told me (being a Belfast man) that I should love it! I told John I was considering resigning. I have arranged to see McCreath tomorrow morning for advice. He was quite sweet when I phoned for an appointment. I met E at Victoria for a cup of tea. He has finished Pillars and liked it. He has had it only about a week.
WEDNESDAY 5 FEBRUARY
Bitter cold this morning. I went to see McCreath who talked for an hour. He was looking ill, having come back on Monday after a fortnight’s sick leave with his heart. He was sympathetic about Belfast; thought it was a most unimaginative move; very hard in my domestic circumstances. But the AIT could not make a case of it. When I mentioned resignation as an alternative he was shocked and told me to go and see Loach at Llandudno if I was so desperate. He thought if I was prepared to go to that length I could get the move cancelled, but he asked me to think carefully and advised me not to for my own sake and because of the effect on the position of the other women. This last reason (which had been in my mind from the first) weighed more than anything. He said he was lunching with King (President) and would talk to him. I am to ring him tomorrow.
Then I went to see Griff. He talked to me for an hour and a half and he was sweet. He advised me to accept the move with all its misery and use it to enrich life. All he said was true and really relevant since he guessed the real reason why I didn’t want to go. He talked to me like a grandfather and kissed me before I went. He completed what McCreath had begun. I reached the stage of feeling it was a choice for me between wise and foolish, between positive and negative, right and wrong, so that whatever I do I shall be unhappy. I lunched with E and met him for a cup of tea. Before we parted he had told me he thought the right thing to do was to go. I just cried and cried but I agreed. It is now a question of how to do it. I shall write to Loach as a protest, otherwise in the future (when I may want consideration) there may be no evidence that the move was anything but what I wanted.
THURSDAY 6 FEBRUARY
I am getting weary of talking and badgering people about Belfast. Today I wrote a letter to Loach but phoned McCreath before posting it. He said he had discussed it with King who, like him, sympathized but hoped I would not do anything desperate! McC had heard that Loach was coming down to the House & thought it would be useful to see him. I must wire him to ask for an interview. McC and King would be pleased to go with me but we both thought I should be better on my own. McC asked me to let him know when the interview would be and what happened immediately afterwards so that he or King could then see Loach and tell him what they thought if necessary. It was good of him. Brennan came to commiserate and gave me the name of a friend of his in the Passport Office who might help over permits to England.
I met E this morning and agreed that I must go unless Loach reconsidered the move. I must not push my objection to extremes. At lunch we talked about a baby. It is a question whether we can or should try hard to start one this month or whether I should go to Ireland to see
how things were first and try to get over on leave at Whitsun, say, and start one then. He is trying to decide whether to be candid with K about it. He will probably, if I do go to Ireland. She is run down again and wants to use his 3 days leave to go away.
MONDAY 10 FEBRUARY
Yesterday ES came for the day, ostensibly to meet Rosa as a possible lodger in my place. Rosa had a cold at its worst. She liked him, decided that he needed ‘looking after’. He reminded her of someone she had met ages ago. He liked it; we went for a walk over Riddlesdown. It was mild and blowing a gale and just not raining. Thick mud in places, especially where all the old grass has been ploughed. We were late for dinner but listened to the concert in the afternoon. He looked at the garden and decided that there was a lot of work to do there. I think he would like it, and Rosa would too.
We listened to Churchill last night. His speech came through well; he told us little that was new but spoke magnificently – an artist in words.
Lunched with E. I wore my red frock and brown coat. But he had looked up the routes to Belfast and my heart became like a stone! I met him and went to Victoria where we had tea. A little better in spirit – but as I looked at him, so near, so often seen, I felt desolate. He said we could take 28 days leave which means at least a week more. I thrilled to think perhaps we might have a few days together and he said, ‘Your face is like an April sky – suddenly the sun shines after clouds.’ We talked of a baby and he said, ‘I just want one thing – and that is to fuck you.’