11

18 August 1919

Dearest Irene,

What a bad girl you are, running away with that man. We talk about nothing else – Mamma is terrified of divorce and scandal, which is pretty ironic coming from her. One might want to run away, but shouldn’t one try to deal with one’s responsibilities by staying? Or are we really the people we were before the Great War? I hardly recognise the person I was in 1914, she seems like a child to me – but even so, would I run away from all my responsibilities, particularly my child, and that dear Thomas? I do feel you should go back to Germany. I think you’d be happy there now, and Dodo too. Anyway, I’ve written to Thomas to say he is always welcome at Evelyn Gardens. If you are skulking in Hampshire, I shall give him directions.

It’s lovely having Dodo here. I’d love to have children, but how do I find a man I like? The question is: is it better to marry someone not very interesting or attractive, or stay single in the hope someone better might turn up? Or have a friendship with a brisk chum who also lost her fiancé, cocoa in front of the fire, tweed skirts, long walks over the Downs. . . Oh dear oh dear.

It’s time for lunch. When you and Dodo aren’t here Mamma and I quarrel and she tells me I’m a monster and I tell her she’s a selfish old dragon, and I cry in my room and then at dinner we’re quite good friends. But the thought of spending twenty years here. . .

Anyway, you are a bad girl. And in the long run you and Julian would not be happy, you’ve grown out of him. He’s all hot air, but what does he achieve? Other than seduction, he’s good at that.