So I Have Thought of You: The Letters of Penelope Fitzgerald. Penelope Fitzgerald
of ‘ladies’ in topless dresses who, she says, are ‘out to catch the boys’, so I feel I must get her a Nice Book from the library as you advised, but I haven’t the nerve to ask the one-man army at the Clapham Branch Library.
We went skating again and a kindly stranger (’let me introduce myself: I’m Dr Green’) helped Maria – who of course took an objection to him – asked her to do the preliminary Foxtrot with him, so at last she’s done one properly.
I’ve ordered some skimpy lino remnants for the loo and kitchen so that will be another small step forwards, and I’m collecting plants for the balcony. I’ve also been working very late each night on this (probably useless) Spanish grammar.
Tina, if you’re getting me a present I would like one of these bowls and chopper like this [drawings] for chopping parsley and herbs and things – Josie will know what it is – it’s to hâcher things in – but maybe they’re very expensive
Much love and best Easter wishes Mum
Poynders Jardin
[185 Poynders Gardens, sw4]
Good Friday [9 April 1966]
Dearest Tina,
Thankyou so much for your lovely letter, we thought it was marvellous of you to write at once without even having a snooze. Your journey out sounds exhausting in the extreme, and I would never have wanted you to go out if I’d known what it was going to be like, but I can only hope you’re recovered and that the quiet room will drive away the hated miggy. – it sounds lovely. And I think you’d feel it was worth it if you saw Clapham S.W.4 at the moment – grey, rain falling, all of us exhausted in the middle of the spring clean – Maria washing the dolls clothes, to be put away finally, she says, me having everything out and poor Daddy left with taking the gas stove to bits and cleaning it – impossible to put it back – not like romantic processions, jasmine, oranges and paseos. I’m terribly sorry too that the Academia* was shut but I thought that Valpy’s duties would include doing something about meeting the young ladies and they were due on that early train, weren’t they, it was the same one that he came on?
Very exhausted as received mysterious letter from Randolph Vigne (at Stillic Press) who you may remember (or Not) was a freedom fighter in S. Africa and just escaped being hung and therefore does everything in a queer, urgent manner – saying I must take the famous ms. down to Holborn College, in Red Lion Square, at once. – but when I got there it was all shut and locked, with notes in milk bottle saying ‘college on Easter vacation’ – so I came back tired, wet and dispirited. However Rachel (name of old friend) writes enthusiastically, saying she’s so glad I’m going to drive over to Exeter with her (I’d written to say that I didn’t want to do this) and, strangely, to ask if Maria could bring a good dress, as she may have to go to a wine and cheese party!
We’re looking forward keenly to hearing about Easter ceremonies &c and what you think of eulogio. Do you think José will turn up again from the Sierra de Córdoba? It was an excellent move to get someone to carry your luggage, even if he occasionally drinks out of a bottle, much love and Happy Easter Mum x
185 Poynders Gardens, sw4
9 April [1966]
Dearest Tina,
Thankyou so much for gorgeous technicolour p.c.s all of which we’ll keep por supuesto – I also read Daddy’s letter, all keenly interesting – I didn’t know Valpy wore a green hood,* somehow I’d imagined him all in black, with a skull and crossbones. I felt tremendous relief when you told me that Angelines was very sweet and that you feel sure they’ll be happy – because it was clear that when Valpy went back in the spring that the engagement must go on, it couldn’t go back, and (as Miss Gray would say) I trust your judgement absolutely – as there can’t be many people who notice things more acutely – and after all she’ll be your sister-in-law long after I’m dead and buried – so it was worth your going out to Cordoba simply to find out how nice she really was, apart from the holiday (not rest, you never seem to get that) which I hope is doing something for your shattered health.
Maria says it is high time you came back to keep Daddy in order, as he’s getting too independent, and actually is asking how to turn on the television. Meanwhile, wistfully thinking of the smell of orange-blossom, I’m packing the grip to depart to Cornwall – Ria insists on taking a large assortment of clothes, although I think only trousers are necessary. It was pouring with rain in the market in Balham High Rd. today – the water streaming down through their poor stalls and fit-ups, pools of water among the lettuces and apples and all the cheap dresses sodden and streaky and the stallholders covered with sacks and newspapers shouting out ‘It’s a wash-out, dearie – eat your radishes indoors! &c.’ Needless to say the Battersea Easter Parade is going on whatever the weather – but we shan’t have to go to it this year.
Very many Easter wishes &c. &c.
I’m putting the mystic envelope you left with me on Maria’s plate tomorrow. It seems Father Sullivan sat grimly in his confessional but no-one came while there was a long queue right round the church for kindly Father Whatsit, the Dutch one – much love Mum X
Playa Andalucía
Puerto de Santa María
Provincia de Cádiz
España
23 August [c.1966]
Dearest Tina,
We arrived safely to discover that you didn’t need vaccination certificates at all – they’d just been declared unnecessary! I got very upset before we went away and said I wouldn’t go at all, I felt I was really going to have a nervous breakdown, like other peoples’ friends do, and Daddy and Maria were very fed up naturally, but there had been such a lot to do, then we had a nice flight to Gibraltar and the rock was lit up so we had a good view of it and not too much delay at the customs. The camp (called a Residential Club) is much more comfortable than we expected as we have a dwarf bath, with real hot water, and pine trees which keep the flies away, and green grass and flowers – there was a large bunch of luridly coloured flowers when we arrived with well come written on them. Everything is made of pinewood, with a built-in cupboard, but quite comfortable and the fashion in beachwear seems to be kibbutz hats so Maria’s is just the thing. Daddy is sunburnt already but luckily I’d brought lots of stuff, Maria however seems to favour burying him in sand up to the neck. As usual, he’s regarded as a high-grade executive by the manager who plies us with revolting Spanish champagne and when I admired the water jug he presented it to me (quaint Andalusian hospitality). Puerto de Santa María is rather nice, we walked in yesterday and went to one of those dark places with barrels to have some wine – we got a lift back fortunately. En España son muchos burros – Maria approves of these though a bit insular about absence of Golden Shred &c. She is being very patient about fusty old parents but I think it would be worse to try and find nice friends among the very mixed inhabitants and it is a lovely beach – waves, as it’s the Atlantic, but so far the Woolies lilo rides triumphantly over them with its vulgar red stripes. Hope for bullfight (’murder on Sunday p.m.’) in Puerto on Sunday.
We’re longing for a letter from you although I suppose it’s too early to hope for one yet. Have left some supplies in frig: by the way.
Much much love from all
Mum.
Love to Linda. How is Mrs Dent?
Playa Andalucia
Puerto Sta. Maria
29 August [1966]
Dearest Tina,
Thankyou