Sunday, Feb 1st, 1942

Dearest Jack,

I've just returned from church. All the talk was of war and hate and killing.. I'm so afraid for you. Can't we go back in time? Thanksgiving was so wonderful.. Our world was happy. Mama and Papa were happy. They liked you. Remember that. They don't like everyone. I think they saw something special in you. (I'm blushing now.. and feeling warm. I miss you so very much)

I've sent a letter.. I hope you have gotten it. Every one I send will have 'Evening in Paris' splashed on it. It reminds me of 'evening on the porch'.. you, your warmth, your lips pressed against mine.

Something is wrong with Papa.. Mama looks at him strangely but says nothing. I've heard whispering behind their bedroom door. Not the kind of whispering that you and I have done.. worried whispers. Do you know what I mean?

I must go, Papa calls.

Imagine my arms around you, my love.

Always.

Vivienne

PS I am running to mail this in the hope it finds you before your ship leaves. I will try and write every day.

PPS Sniff the envelope! Memories?