26 March 1943
Dearest,
I know how you feel about spending enough time in the hospital - I'm a medical professional and yet I hate spending longer than I need to there… it's just something about those buildings that can put me on edge. I suppose that's why I went for pathology instead of with actual living patients - the dead don't demand more of your time than you're willing to give.
I love you, Matthew, and I'm holding you to the promise of being more careful.
I think you could definitely be an asset to the medical corps, dear; you listen to direction well and you know what it's like out there on the front, so you'd be a big help to both patients and doctors alike. Whatever the casualties, we'll pull through them all together. I did pass on your condolences to Gibson's family once Miss Fisher found them; I also heard that Warner ended up not making it… so I passed along condolences as well, I'm certain you'll hear from both families in the future - they mentioned they might write to you to get to know their loved ones at war better. Whatever you choose to share with them, I'm certain it'll provide some balm to their wounds even if it doesn't feel like much, dearest.
It took some searching, but I found Moran; it is pretty dire, his situation, but I've been assured by the doctors that he is healing and nothing is infected. He'll have some work to do with physical therapy, but he seemed happy enough to see me visit. Teased the hell out of me about you, dear, but it's good that he's able to do that; I brought him some books and we had a nice discussion about some of them, and Moran said he'd be happy to teach me some games, I think we're starting out with chess first. He's gotten your letters and Edith's, and he deeply appreciates them all.
I mentioned him to Miss Fisher and she spoke to Mrs. Stanley, he might have a job once he's well enough to work, and the man nearly broke down in tears when I told him… I think we're going to have to keep an eye on more veterans when they come back from the front after this war… as brutal as the Great War was, I think this one is even worse, and no, you don't have to confirm it for me, dearest… it's one assumption I don't want to be right about.
You can pay me back for Addy when you get home, I'm spoiling her out of my own pocket for a little while. I got her a nice soft bed that fits perfectly at the end of my window seat at home, and a very nice tree to hopefully scratch instead of Miss Fisher's doorjambs or furniture; I also took the liberty of getting her a proper collar - complete with her nickname and what battalion she's with, and Miss Fisher's phone number on the back should she get out and away from us.
(The collar is completely ridiculous, but I couldn't help it, I hope she likes a frilly pink one complete with a tiny bell.)
Something tells me that Edith is in on your little graduation ruse, dearest, and now it won't work. We'll have to see what the world is like closer to my graduation, you're bound to get leave again at some point, right? It's been so long since your last one for you and the boys… surely they wouldn't keep you going at the pace you were, it's no good physically or mentally for you all. Whatever happens, we'll face it together, and celebrations can always be postponed until you're here to join in them, I don't mind waiting.
I'm contemplating moving into Jack's house once I graduate, get it ready for the two of us and maybe Mum can come to live there until you return home; I would miss the absolute shenanigans that are living at Wardlow, though… it's a decision to consider, certainly. Mum's not getting the point of wanting to move soon anyway, I think she wants as little dead time between her moving out and us moving in as possible, so likely we'll have to wait until the war is over to do the real work on the house. No particular requests for the garden, perhaps Jack will part with some of his rose seeds or a cutting for our garden (in Ballarat, the roses are still being grown on his property that he's offering to us). I can't wait to hear about your plans for the garden, I'm sure it'll be absolutely lovely to spend time in during the warmer months.
No surprise visitors to the home, that's to be certain.
Alright, alright, I'll save the gruesome details for washing up, I promise.
Lorraine is a dear friend to have these days; I like having someone to talk to about having a beau abroad (as nice as Dot is, it's not quite the same as it is with Lorraine). She tells me of their wedding plans - Ed had already promised himself to her before leaving for the war, it's just not an official engagement yet - and I'll admit I've daydreamed a bit or two about us, dearest. (Not pressuring you, I just wanted you to know now that we've been honest about our feelings for one another). I'm not sure about the big celebration - or a pure white gown like the one Lorraine is slowly piecing together in her room - but the thought of marriage to someone like you is very nice to think about when life gets boring.
I suppose I attract the quieter ones, that's true… it's the same with Beth Collins; Christopher Jr. has gravitated towards me, and he's told me how he's trying to be brave and strong for his mother - set a good example for his brother (good luck, Jack is a wild one) - and that it's hard to do… I hope I helped when I reassure him that he doesn't need to be those things, he just needs to be himself and be there for his mum in whatever way that is… I'm not sure it's quite sunk in yet, but I think I'm making progress with him.
I like this dichotomy of work in the house you've suggested, dearest, I think that'll work out very nicely once we get settled (and yes, Edith, you can certainly come to visit with prior notice.)
Jack thanks you for your sympathy, but swears his grey hair is now turning stark white because of the two of them; Miss Fisher has suggested to Drina to rein it in a little just to get her parents off her back, but I have a feeling that suggestion will go in one ear and out the other with Drina… always a mind of her own. So long as she doesn't try to mess with any of my things, I'm perfectly fine with it all.
Our house hopefully will not be a living menagerie, but I think Addy might like a companion at some point; we'll have to see how our work schedules are before adding to the fray.
I… may have sent you a package with the books I was talking about - don't tell Edith, I want to hear about the look on her face when she sees you reading them.
That would be a sight to see: an army of mums twisting the ears of everyone in charge until they fess up, apologize, and send everyone back home.
Mum is the type of mum I'd like to be should I ever become one… I think her teaching you that actions had consequences and that she'd help you figure out things to do but that ultimately the decision lies with you is a very wise thing to teach your children.
Your father, on the other hand, I would certainly like to have words with should I ever meet him, just as I'm sure you'd like to have words with mine. (Who knows, maybe they're both dead and have found each other in hell and are either the best of friends or hate each other enormously.)
As much as I hate the way certain parts of my life have been, I'm also glad it gave me the opportunities I've gotten, and that it set us both on the path towards meeting each other. I now can't imagine my life without you in it, and I don't care to.
Jean's mentioned the same thing as you, so if it ever happens and you happen to be home, I'm sure you'll both be waiting on the sidelines with popcorn to watch it all go down… the nerve of some people, I swear.
No need to worry about legibility, dearest, I just care that you're well and improving.
Love always,
Alice
grad school and the soul-sucking properties of retail work strike again! wanted to get this chapter out before the heavy work of the semester really pile on (I still have two final projects, two papers, and three exams to get through before the end of the semester and the end of my first year in grad school). only 20 chapters left in this installment of IB! - Dee
