Valentine's Day, 1942

Found between the pages of a book in Denise bedroom:

My darling D:

I hope you find this letter just as you start missing my voice beside you. This Saturday will be a year since we both met at my Godfather’s wedding. It was dreadfully cold, but I thought his wife was so romantic to want to marry on Valentine’s Day. She shares my favorite Holiday, for even in the dead of winter I look forward to the warmth of romance every year. Even if I only receive it from my favorite poems and the stories I read on that day, I look forward to Valentine's Day. But last year was special. I celebrated romance in a lovely wedding, and my eyes fell on you coming into the church - with your modern tailored slacks, your smart blouse and your curls made so elegantly. Everyone looked at you in such a shock to decide to wear pants in church but I thought it marvelous. You looked so refined.

Do you know it was on that day I knew my heart was not in sin? I had decided to pray for a moment after congratulating the couple, the candles alight in the church. And you decided to approach me right then as I was finishing my prayer to introduce yourself. I knew nothing I felt for you could be sin because under the light of those candles and the glimmer of the gilded entry, you looked divine. You looked positively ethereal-with the scent of wax and incense in the air. You were a gift from God handed over to me to teach me the meaning of joy. You still are. I’m glad Valentine’s Day is our anniversary now.

My love - you asked me before our first kiss if I was sure of what I wanted. I am so close to my family, my sister especially. I wish I could follow my parent’s wishes, marry with a veil on like my mother wanted, and follow the usual tale of our family’s traditions. But I know I have to follow my heart no matter what. Of course I will miss them, and part of my heart will break in pieces when I kiss my mother goodbye, knowing I will not live under the same roof again without following my own path, forming my own home. Marrying you if only in my soul. I have to wonder - how can I feel like such a traitor to my loved ones…………and yet…….so free?

It was a fine matinee with you last weekend and our sharing of a sandwich. I appreciated how you shared your rations with me. As you read this letter I will be at my desk working and filing papers, registering names of men who are enlisting as troops, but between breaths I will be dreaming of spending a lovely anniversary on Valentine’s Day with you by my side.

I know it is probably mad to speak of a lovely holiday while everyone makes sacrifices and scrambles to join the war efforts. The world is not what it used to be just last year and I sit at church holding the hands of many sisters and mothers with their nerves on edge. But I can’t help being selfish for my own pleasure, for any moment I can.

I am praying there is no lockdown before we see each other again, but it is more important to be alert of the siren. Please be careful if you listen to it and go to the shelter. Even if it hurts, do not think of me for I will be doing everything to keep myself safe too so we can be reunited at the end of it. I’m stretching my soap rations for Valentine’s day so I can better carry the perfume which you love so much. I’ve also been trying to save the sugar to bake cookies for that day. Gertie from the office is trying to get into the spirit by sending her sweetheart a carton of cigarettes he can share with his unit.

You have no idea how I admire your knack for factory work these days. You are doing so much for the war time effort while I’m here pushing papers at the recruitment personnel office. I guess we are both doing our part. I am feeling fortunate that I don't have to see you go like many women who are watching their men go to the front. I pray for my friends who leave.

I am grateful for the blessing that you will be at my side through it all. I am counting my pennies for that future flat we wish to get together. I hide the jar well in my closet away from my parents' sight. I’m glad we are deciding to head to Bath and that you have an opportunity to transfer there. I know I can also find some office work. I am asking whether the Army has any bases that need administrative staff in Bath while I am here at the recruitment center. I guess recruitment is everywhere in England so I’m hoping to be fortunate enough to find a transfer. I will truly miss my family, but I have another one waiting for me there. Banksy, Ophelia, Martha and Rose are all waiting for us at Banksy’s new pub. It will be so grand with the dancing, the space to share, the music of the new jazzy American band sound that is probably scandalizing all of England by now, but I’m in love with it. We are all ready to form our small commune under the guise of working together. All away from home and the judging eyes of the people who have known us our whole lives.

For right now at least your innkeeper has been nice. It is not an entire flat but when I visit I feel we make our own space. At the very least I can bring you something to eat. We can split it at your table and then clean after ourselves. I know we have to keep quiet, and you are so good when you take the plates downstairs that no one has honed in on what we are doing. But even with these cautions in place, I get to feel the day beside you, from the moment you wake up to the time you go to sleep, until I have to come back home. They are a tiny vignette of what my life as your secret wife will be, all under the guise of best friendship.

I know the unlikely scenario will raise eyebrows with my family, and they will wonder when I will be searching for the right husband, the right partner for my life. They will ask questions about having children and settling down. It is a risk…but a risk worth taking. So much so that I have already told mother I’m adamant to do my part and transfer wherever I’m needed. I told her life is not like it used to be, and she should be grateful I do not volunteer as a nurse on the war front. I can come visit her every other weekend.

I can’t wait to see you soon. I promise we will have a good time. I wish every weekend was forever, but we only have to wait until Bath before setting our own home. I hope you are as hopeful as I am. We are both smart and will judge well what we have to keep subtle.

Until this Saturday - our Saturday - I will always remain yours.

~N

(delivered in Nancy’s book)