THE DIARY OF DORIS

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 59, 9 August 1940, Page 37

THE DIARY OF DORIS

MONDAY Alan’s letter was waiting for me at work this morning. He’s applied for weekend leave, and, if he gets it, will arrive here on Saturday morning. He’s been away from Wellington now for two months and 17 days, and Hobsonville seems such a long way off, too. Why must the Air Force people send him all that distance when there are many camps ever so much closer? Still, he might propose this time down. I wonder what he’d say? Strange how the day passed so quickly. Selling hats to-day was like selling toffee apples-not a bit of trouble. Did 20 rows on Alan’s pull-over to-night. Must get it finished before he comes, Only four more days. TUESDAY Rained hard this morning, and to make matters worse, I missed my usual tram. Funny how all the men seem to live at the terminus and get all the seats first.

Day started rottenly, and kept that way. No letter from Alan. Mrs. Fullington brought back the hat I sold her yesterday and wanted her money back. Told her we didn’t believe in giving money back, and compromised by arranging an exchange. Nothing was right to-day. Even Mum had packed cheese sandwiches for lunch, although she knows I hate cheese. Alan’s telegram arrived in the afternoon. "Leave granted arrive Saturday love Alan." Bet he thought twice about adding the love bit. The family chipped me all evening about Alan. They seem to be making complete arrangements for his entertainment over the week-end. If it gets too hot, I’ll have to remind them it’s me Alan’s coming to see. Just have the sleeves to do and the pull-over will be finished. Only three more days, WEDNESDAY Morning broke fine and fresh after yesterday’s rain. Saw the buyer before lunch and asked for Saturday morning off. Think she knew what I meant when I said a special friend was coming for the week-end. Anyway, nothing definite was promised, but I think it will be all right. Made an appointment for shampoo and set for Friday’s lunch hour. Finished one sleeve to-night. Only two more days. THURSDAY Bad news this morning. Miss Smith has been silly enough to get ’flu, so I won’t be able to get Saturday morning off now. I know Alan will be disappointed. I was to meet him at the station, and we’d have had all Saturday and Sunday together. Never mind, we'll still have a day and a-half as well as Saturday evening. Nola’s been so decent — she’s offered to lend me her new twin suit for

the week-end. Got a short note from Alan this afternoon, and, among other things, he says he’s counting the days, too. After twelve before I got to bed, and the pullover is finished. Only one more day. FRIDAY Didn’t think to-day would ever end. Just couldn’t interest myself in hats and hat trimmings. Thank goodness it was wet and not many people in the shop. Had an extended lunch hour, and was able to have a manicure as well as the set. Cost 6/6 altogether, but he’s worth itI think. Floorwalker caught me slipping out before the bell went to-night. Just think! Alan’s on the train now, and will be here in the morning. Am counting the hours now. SATURDAY Got up early. Gave Dad and Mum a cup of tea in bed. Gosh, how the morning dragged! At long last, morning tea came, and a ring from Alan. How stirring to hear his voice. At five to twelve, without worrying about bells, floorwalkers or anything else, I dashed out at the front door. There he was, tall and good looking as ever, and so neat in his Air Force uniform. And then it happened. I wonder why it is that the sight of Alan always gives me the hiccups. "Hello Alan," I said, "how are-hup-excuse me but(Continued on next page)

(Continued from previous page) hup damn." Oh, how ashamed I was. Alan looked uncomfortable, and he had to choose this time to tell me that he’d met his old boss in the morning and had promised to lunch with him and go on to see the football afterwards. He’d come straight home, and would see me about five. Did I mind? One of his reasons for joining the Air Force was to get away from the old b.b. blighter. Oh, well! At long last he did arrive, but not till after six, and accompanied by my brother Bill. They'd met at the park and decided to have one or two on the way home. Tea was a long-drawn-out affair. Everybody was pleased to see Alan, and all wanted to talk to him, and then as a special concession, they all got out of the dining room and left Alan and me to clear up and wash the dishes. Alan was wiping the last cup when Mum came in to say that Dad had got the car out and had four reserves for the pictures. Of course with father putting on the party, we just had to go. The picture was lousy. Home again, and then some supper. Dad didn’t seem to be a bit sleepy. He talked and talked and talked. Even if it is more than thirty years since his courting days, you’d think he’d be a little more tactful. Then we discovered that Alan had about two minutes to catch his last tram, so off he dashed, giving me one quick good-night kiss and a promise to call around early in the morning.

SUNDAY Woke at seven o'clock to discover it was raining hard. It would! Made morning tea, had a bath and then dressed. When I took Dad his cup of tea, I dropped a hint that he might lend Alan the car. Perhaps! Dad said something about us all going for a drive, so I dropped the subject. Half past nine, Alan rang to say he’d missed the morning tram, so wouldn’t be able to come until after lunch. Promised to stay to tea, though, and would go straight on to the station. He arrived at half past two, and was hardly inside before Bill took possession, and started talking about the Air Force, *planes, propellers, and all that sort of rot. Then Dad came in and insisted they play a game of sncoker-he meant three. Alan came in to the kitchen to talk while I was preparing tea. Mum came in to help. To help! To-aw what's the use! We had to hurry through tea, and Dad got the car out and drove us down to the station. Mum came for the ride. It seemed so hard to think he was off again after such a short time. Just before the train left, Alan told me there was something he wanted to say to me, but he hadn’t had a chance. He would write as soon as he got back-by that I think he meant he would tell me in his letter. Is he going to propose? I wonder! Oh, well! he’s gone now and it’s back to work tomorrow. Who said the war doesn’t hit us girls?