My Dear Bessie (23 page)

My health is OK now, I had a very bad flu cold about 2 or 3 weeks ago, and had a week off, for which I blame you by the way, talk about depression!!! Poor Iris thought I was going into a decline. Iris and Lil have been watching me like a couple of anxious mothers with their first born.

I must try and get off a letter to Wilfred sometime, and tell him the news, for he has been very interested in your stay in Greece from the beginning, wanting to hear the soldier's viewpoint. It seems odd talking about you and Greece calmly, can't get used to the idea. I liked how you wrote of the ELAS; the bulk of the press are still banging away, trying to bring pressure to bear on the government. Of course, I will bear with you, I understand that you have much to do.

I Love You.

Bessie

5 February 1945

Dearest,

I am not sure how we can manage our first meeting. We must talk and talk when first we meet. I have been trying hard to think of a restaurant which would allow us to talk and
look
at each other in some privacy. You must think for me, as I have been unsuccessful.
I want to do so many things at once, but I can see that first I must talk. I am not sleeping at all well now, for the thought of you is upon me, and I cannot lose it.

Did I tell you that your four photos were amongst those lost at Kifissia? If you have the negatives perhaps we could have another print done. The photo I have of you is a real delight to me, although I wish I had more opportunity to get it out and glance at you. And I keep on thinking and feeling right inside me, ‘Soon, I shall not be just glancing at her photograph.' Soon I shall be really looking at you, really meeting you, really knowing you.

Here, the mimosa, carnation and narcissus bloom. But you are in England, and I am coming to you, to claim you and to call you lovely.

I love you.

Chris

6 February 1945

Darling, Darling, Darling,

This is what I have been waiting for, your freedom left me dumb and choked up, but now, oh now, I feel released. Oh Christopher, my dear, dear man, it is so, so wonderful. You are coming home.
Golly, I shall have to be careful, all this excitement is almost too much for my body. You must be careful too, Darling, all this on top of what you have been through, it is difficult to keep it down, you can't help the excited twinges in your midriff can you? Do keep well, Angel – I shall have to say that to myself as well. You are coming home, I shall see you, talk to you, be with you, touch you, hold your arm, hold you against my heart, my body. I must pinch myself, is it true? Yes, your LC says so, and I now have such a funny photo of you, with a beard, but you look a little grim, as if you need loving, as if you need tenderness.

Marriage my sweet, yes I agree, what you wish, I wish. I want you to be happy in this darling, want to make you happy. I make a plea to whatever gods there be to make me greater than myself, so that I can make you as happy as humanly possible, to help you over the bad days, and swing along with you in the good days. Whilst you are afraid, you will not be happy. We must get rid of those fears. I want you to come to me, quite unafraid. We will wait. Anyway it is rather nice to go a-courting, don't you think? Also confidentially, I too am a little scared – everything in letters appears larger than life size. Like the photograph, it didn't show the white hairs beneath the black, the decaying teeth, the darkening skin. I think of my nasty characteristics, my ordinariness. Yes, I too feel a little afraid. About what happens on arrival, of course you'll have to spend the first part at home, I suspect I can get my leave when needed; we only have to sign for the actual summer period, otherwise they are very accommodating.

Oh dear, dear, dearie me, plan a week somewhere, bonk, up comes my heart, a week somewhere, by the sea, WITH YOU.
Where shall we go? Of course I'd choose north Devon – sea, country and air, but March raises the question of weather. Might we go to a largish town? I prefer villages normally, but with you I guess I'll do what you want. Also I feel that you'll need looking after, don't think you should walk around in the rain, not for awhile anyway. Guess I don't care where, as long as it's the sea, and you, you, you. Inward clangings and bouncings and I wonder how soon.

Glad you managed to give them the coffee and cocoa, our Greek friends I mean, to show them that we wish them well, and hope very strongly that they will get the government they want, though perhaps they live too close to poverty to think of governments. Still you'll soon tell me all about it.

What luck, being able to see and talk to the TUC delegation, just up your street, it was a wonderful idea. The socks, I hope they fitted. Not having a pattern for my working material, I had to juggle and felt a bit worried about the fitting. Yes, I do feel like you do at the moment, my darling, which is jolly good, in fact not bad, not bad at all!!!! You are coming home, and I am awake.

I Love You.

Bessie

7 February 1945

My Dearly Beloved,

How do you feel now, Ducky? I am gradually coming up for air, feel like turning cartwheels and standing on my head. So you are afraid, I wonder what about. I have a few apprehensions floating around, such as the actuality instead of letters. You know I say to myself, ‘Bessie my girl, you're not so hot', but I think you may have a similar feeling. I say, how is your digestion? Mine's awful. I shall be reduced to taking Rennies or something, a wind remover. My tea at this moment is stuck somewhere in the middle of my chest. But despite apprehensions, it's not depressing me at all – I've got dancing feet, my apprehensions are literally giving me the giggles. Christopher is coming home, coming home, tra, la la la.

‘Do not let us make any mistakes' now underlined. You dear old silly, do you really think you can guard against that? Or ensure the future? ‘Plan our time' – I ask an anxious ‘How?', because it all depends on you. I shall be with you, what's done with the time I don't care, as long as I get sufficient opportunities to cuddle you, and be alone with you. To feel what I have imagined. To know you.

A week somewhere together is a good beginning, a week somewhere together. Oh isn't it awful, so near and yet so far. Wilfred comes home on leave on Tuesday, that will help me through a week of it. I hope you don't have too long a wait in Italy, and please don't be ill. You have had such a bad time, and all
this excitement, please be careful. Your experiences were a bit of a shock, I hadn't realised that there was any fighting, or that your captivity was quite so bad. The press for a change hadn't overdone the situation, it had given the impression of an exchange lasting for a few minutes and then surrender, and a prisoner who had been rescued before the end of the hostilities was quoted as saying that he had been well treated.

‘I don't know what to say, and I can't think.' Yes, it does get you like that, it's just too much to say. The plea for me to write tons and tons and tons hit me hard. You weren't to know that you had flattened me out. We had both had a bad time, it takes time to recover, seems like a bad dream now doesn't it? The brightness on the horizon is beginning to glow vibrantly, thoughts of the future make me palpitate with expectancy. If I could only squash you to me, just squash you to me – umph. I adore you with my very bones, my hairs, my everything. Love me, go on loving me.

I wish we could have a weather forecast. Rain is something that can't be ignored, even by lovers, it's so wet and uncomfortable. Anyway we shall see. I can't help wishing that you won't get these letters, that you'll be on your way, that the time to wait is that short, because my impatience is getting pretty bad. Being able to write like we have has been a wonderful thing, but it has always remained only the beginning, the contact for our future and a beginning must change to something else.

What do you think of the war news? Don't like getting too optimistic, but wouldn't it be wonderful to come home to stay? Oh you must, must, must.

I bet Ridgeway Drive is a very joyful place, two sons coming home, crikey. I bet your mother felt slightly flattened out at first, but she'll be bouncing now.

I Love You.

Bessie

Interlude: Chris and Bessie meet at last. Their time together was a success, although the very fact of meeting would subtly change the nature of their correspondence in the future. Chris spent about three weeks in England, and the couple shared five days alone – in Bournemouth. We do not have precise details of how they occupied their time, but must piece together snippets of information from the letters that followed
.

The Barker parents and sons reunited at home in February 1945: Herbert, Chris, Amy and Bert

*
Citrine was General Secretary of the Trades Union Congress.

7

Error of Judgement Regarding Salmon

28 March 1945

Dearest,

We arrived at Kings Cross at 1.30, got in the train, stretched out on empty seats, and more or less slept until 9.30, when we changed at York. We had another change at Edinburgh. I thought of you walking down to Charing Cross. We had tea, and shaved in hot water, and are in the Camp for tonight.