28th October, 1924

Dear Alfie,

Please accept my apologies for not writing sooner. I haven't been very well and had to take to my bed for a few weeks. I'm not quite sure what was the matter was, but I just couldn't seem to get up. Mary called the doctor and he said it was my nerves. He gave me more of the medicine and it's been helping me to feel calmer. I'm taking a bit more of it these days because it's getting harder to ignore the things which fill my head. Alfie, sometimes it does feel like there's a live grenade inside me just waiting to go off. I can't squeeze the lever down forever. What happens if I let go?

One good thing that has come from it is that Tommy has been coming to see me. He comes about once a week. It's nice to see him. He just sits with me and smokes. He doesn't say much. I think you're right that he feels bad about what has happened, but it really wasn't his fault. I mean, he couldn't have known what was going to happen, could he? It was more my fault for going out to the stables that night when my maid told me that Nua was ill. I should have realised it was a lie. And I could have fought back harder against the people that took me. My brothers would have. Aunt Pol would have. It doesn't really matter anyway. It's happened and can't be changed.

I'm feeling better now and am back at school. I'm hoping to get out on Nua soon. John came round the other day and drove me to see Arthur and the new baby. Arthur and John both have big new houses in the countryside now. The baby is gorgeous. He's called William but Arthur calls him Billy. Linda let me hold him for the longest time. He looks like Arthur but has Linda's blonde hair. On the way back, John asked me to go and live with him and Esme. He said it would be better for me to be with them, away from Tommy. But I said no. I can't leave Tommy. He needs me.

Thank you for the baskets of apples that you send every week. Alfie, it's the highlight of the week. I've read every one of your letters that you send with them. I'm sorry for not replying to them all. It's nice to know someone's thinking of me all the way in London. Maybe when I'm feeling better, I'll get on a train and come and see you. I've done it before, remember? I know the way. I reckon I could get there and back without anyone even noticing I'm gone. I used to long for my brothers to stop keeping such a close eye on me so that I could go on adventures. How funny that now no one's keeping an eye on me, the thought of an adventure isn't very appealing. I can't even bring myself to go out to the stables. The stables were where I was ... well, you know.

Anyway, enough of me feeling sorry for myself. I hope you are keeping well, dear Alfie.

I will always be your loving friend,

Rose