“Dear Mary, Thankyou for your birthday wishes which I received when I returned to Stonehaven yesterday.
I spent a quiet fortnight at Ingleton with Judy and her people. Judy’s nerves were worrying her again and she was in bed for a few days, then only up afternoons and evenings. However, the weather was poor and I wasn’t anxious to go out very much. Ingleton is a quaint village, and the farmlands round about typically “English” – really lovely.
On Thursday, Judy, her father and I went for a bus trip through the Lakes District. We saw most of the lakes and sailed on Windemere. We passed Charlotte Bronte’s house on the way, and came through Grassmere where Wordsworth lived, and Troutbeck where John Pal lived. The Lakes were lovely but I still think they’re not to be compared with the Scottish lochs.
I’m sorry Mum’s going home soon – there’s so much we could have seen together before she left if she’d stayed, and I’m sure she would have enjoyed it, although at the moment she says she wouldn’t. I think it’s because she’s been sitting about too much in Stonehaven, even to me Stonehaven is a depressing place and time drags here. I think she has the idea that she’d feel the same wherever she went but speaking from personal experience, I’ve found that I feel absolutely different away from here; quite unintentionally I find myself very bad tempered or ill-humoured while I’m here. And the place always seems cold or wet. I’m also sorry she’s making our stay in London so short – she says she doesn’t want to see much and the hotel’s expensive – so we’re not getting there till Monday and she sails the following Saturday. Forgive my grouches! I hope she’ll be able to spend a few days in Blairgowrie before she goes.
I felt a bit of a cad not coming home. I don’t know whether you’ve expected me to change my mind and come home now or not. But I can’t afford to go to the continent this summer, and what a waste of money it would be to have spent so much on getting here to have to come home after seeing so little. It would mean starting to save furiously or return as soon as possible I went home now. Even staying with the relations, the money runs through the fingers here and I hadn’t intended to take so long a holiday. I should have been working long ago, but so much has happened to change my intentions. I would be quite happy to come home this year, as this is certainly not a land to want to live in – wages are low, cost of living high, I would earn about half here of what I earned at home! I don’t know how people even live, let alone save anything – still I’d have to make the effort if I wanted to see anything next summer, and it wouldn’t be worthwhile working here through about 8 or 9 months of winter without that in mind.
Mum’s very disappointed that I’m not going, she’s dreading keeping house on her own. However, I think she plans to sell the house without moving back into it which I think a very good idea as neither of us like it. Then she’ll look for something she likes better. But nothing is definite. I think she has a vague notion of staying with Auntie Bessie for a while if she does that.
You may see me home in December yet – I’m beginning to hate the thought of freezing over here while you’re enjoying a lovely Australian summer – I wouldn’t call what we’ve experienced here “summer”.
I wrote and told Wilga about Dad and both Mum and I have had a letter from her. I’ve had letters from three girls at work and Isla Woolard and Shirley Clarke since they’ve heard of Dad’s death.
I forgot to tell you that the man who was best man at Yvonne’s wedding is coming to Melbourne to the P.M.G.. I’ve forgotten his name, but I gave him your address and I’m sure he’ll call with his wife and two boys (11 & 5 I think they are). He’s coming in a month or two’s time. I’ll find out his name from Yvonne.
The snaps I took at Yvonne’s wedding came out well and I’ve sent them on to her mother and am getting more taken off for Yvonne and myself.
Mum has already told you she’s coming on at September, but hasn’t yet found out any details regarding berth except price – 81 pounds sterling, so it’s almost sure to be a 2 berth.
You’ll think me queer, but I just happened to mention to Mum that if I’d had the money I wouldn’t hesitate to go home in November after a trip on the continent – so she offered to lend me 50 pounds! So it looks as though I’ll be home sure enough! If I still can’t make it, I’ll tell you to sell the sewing machine! Mum thinks I’m mad, as I’d said before I didn’t want to go home – mainly because I’d hated living at Strathmore since I’d broken my engagement to Joe.
However, I know I’d save much more money working at home than here – it would really be a waste of energy and time trying to save money here!
Well, I’ll be seeing you!
Love to everybody and yourself. From Jean.”
Jean’s letter (in full), written to her sister Mary from Stonehaven, 11 August 1951
