Nov. 8. #3
I am just back from my leave. I never got an answer from Peter or Dick before I left but wired Peter the day before I went up to London. It was the very day he got his commission and nine days leave so we met. I got in at noon and didn’t see him till the next morning so during that interval I saw a little bit of those parts of London that one normally does. After that it was a practically unbroken and rather expensive party. We went to lots of places and nearly always by taxi so I have no better idea of my way around London than before I went up. But Peter knows his way about. Various clubs, Indian restaurants, Chinese cafes, special waiters at the Regent etc. The second night we stayed with a Harley St doctor. I think his wife is related to the Aclands. She has been in Kelowna anyway. They had a most palatial apartment on Baker St. Three bathrooms and that is something in this country. The next morning we went for a stroll the Mews with the doctor’s wife, a pram, two children and two dogs. What with one child getting its head stuck in the iron railings trying to get a cat, the temporary loss of one Scotty and me taking the salute from about five flights of I.T.S. students it was quite a morning.
One night we danced at a very posh place called “the 400”. One of the girls we took was a member and that is how we got in. It is one of the few places that stays home to all hours. Most places including theatres and tubes close about 10:00 and private clubs at 12:00. One afternoon Peter sent off a telegram so perhaps you already know we were celebrating together. On the last evening we had supper at Kepinski’s, a quaint spot with rather unusual methods of cooking. For instance pancakes. A brazier is wheeled in beside your table and they are cooked in burning brandy and still flaming are dished up onto your plate. Music was supplied by a singing piano player who was as mad as the culinary methods. There is supposed to be a 5/ limit on meals but the bill here for three of us was £2-10. I suppose the rest was cocktails. This was Wednesday night and the next day I went up to Ditchford. I had phoned Uncle Geoff earlier in the week saying I would be along on Wednesday and he said to wire time of arrival which I did Thur. morning. But they met the train on Wednesday anyway. I meant to look up Uncle Tom in London but the opportunity did not arise. At least it didn’t seem advisable. Starting now on the next letter.
With love from
[Note: Transcription provided by collection donor.]