31December1995

London: 31.12.1995

My dear folks,

The last letter of 1995. Another six hours here and the year will be history. You’ve a little longer there to reflect on its highs & lows in Canada but not much. It’s been okay, generally speaking. I’ve had worse. I know it wasn’t your favourite Mum. But it’s ended well & that’s a great virtue. Let us doff our caps to 1996 & hope it treat us all gently.

It’s not going to start well for John Major. His thin parliamentary majority has been whittled down to a wafer with the defection of two of his MPs, one to Labour a short while back and now another to the Liberal Democrats. They’re unhappy about the state of the party & with little wonder. It’s a mess. Major’s swearing that he’s going to hang in there but there are election bells ringing loud & clear. The news media have fallen upon these developments with little cries of gratitude for there’s very little else that passes for news.

Thank you Mum for your welcome fax. Yes, I leave the upstairs phone turned off permanently so that we are not disturbed by it. We sometimes hear the downstairs one as it tinkles with a fax early in the morning but that’s only because we have forgotten to turn it off. You can safely send a fax at any time. Cathy tells me that Kevin’s fax is fairly close to a couple of bedrooms & that it is wiser not to send you faxes overnight.

Let me assure you mother that I have NOT bought another computer - but only another PRINTER and a BATTERY for my small computer. It’s the difference between $500 & $5000 & I should hate you to get the wrong impression. If I win £33 million in the lottery next week I may well get another computer - with more whistle & whizzes & bangs than you can imagine. Indeed, I might well get another car & another house and a great deal else besides. But I’m well aware of the necessity of catching one’s goose before preparing the sauce. You were asking for Cathy’s fax number at the farm in Germany.
It is: (00) 49 9762 4459.

I have had a couple of hours’ kip in preparation for tonight’s shift. Jones has supper on the brew. We went out for a wander at lunch time, delivering a wodge of letters to a post office which has a midday collection, and a letter of thanks to a group of my tenants and their hamster, Henry, for their Christmas good wishes. Britain is about to shut down for 48 hours with only such idiots as I to sustain the prattle. I don’t mind. I’d much work while the world sleeps & sleep while it works. It’s less hassled that way. I’m always glad to see the rat pack heading in the opposite direction.

Let me bring my letter to a close. I’m going to jump in the bath. Then I shall go off through the foggy - and much warmer - night to work. You will all be in my thoughts, Cathy & Bren & co., as well. I do look forward to celebrating with them a little later in the week. And I trust that it is not too long before I am able to head west & see for myself how things are going in your part of the world.

A happy New Year to you all.

Much love,

T