Hong Kong, March 31^st, 1950

Dearest Claudia and Pinkie,

It is really terrible that I haven't written you before. Life is so unsettled that I seem to be unable to get down to anything but just frittering away my time. It isn't less so now, as rumours were flying around yesterday that we were to be off today, and I did more packing. That was all off by the end of the day, but some say we are on a twelve hour basis now. I don't believe it, but don't dare not to be prepared for any eventuality. I suppose even the English papers told you about the Gordon's not taking us. A most frantic morning we spent the day after we arrived, unpacking things left in Hong Kong, repacking for Shanghai, and buying essentials (everybody had a different idea of what you mustn't go to Shanghai without) and getting onto the Gordon by 2:00pm. Got right off again, as we continued to do every day until Tuesday, when the whole thing was off. I left everything except myself on the ship the last two nights, and had even unpacked enough to cover my bunk so no one else could take it from me - but all that had to be packed again, and back we came to the Hudson's - all three of us stayed there until the Thursday, and it was quite unsettling for all concerned, wondering what they would do with us, as Mr Vignoles was coming on the Sunday, and they had to have the house for him, and much official entertaining. Meanwhile while we were there, all sorts of people kept coming in to see us - and my friends being quite separate from theirs - the house was constantly full, and very hard on Jerry Hudson I thought, not to mention the servants. They got so they left our rooms in readiness, though every day there were ceremonious good-byes, and we would leave with lock stock and barrel.

We thought we had done awfully well, with a cabin of only twelve - many had much more - and we had several windows, and the three of us were one on top of the other in an off corner of the room. We had several children - they lived on board for five days, as did so many people glad to escape from the price of living in hotels. The children asked if I had a son, Hugo. Nelson Bates tells Quita the school will be forced to close down, so I don't know what will happen to the kids. These particular ones were half-castes, and Russians, or the equivalent, but I am surprised at the number of English children going in - young, five and six. A girl in the ICI was taking in two sweet things, yet she was afraid to take her machine and type-writer! It was a sad day when we all had to dis-load, but Nelson said from Shanghai that it was really tragic there, with families sold up - house and businesses - and left sitting on crates.

There were said to be a hundred on this ship going in. The ICI had three men going in. Hong Kong bank two, Levers one, and no doubt there were a few others, but less than a dozen, and the rest women and children. The Shell couldn't get a permit for a single man. They must need the ICI. Incidentally the Lintillacs were coming out, catching the P&O they booked on a year ago - but who knows now. They say she has been very ill - blood transfusions and everything, though I don't know what it was. Apparently she is many years older than Sonny.

There are all sorts of Shanghai people around, of course. I met Mae Foster for the first time. Pinkie will know her. She asked about him - in fact seems to know a lot about the entire family, and said her parents had met mine, in Swatow. She is supposed to talk more than anyone in China - though some say Ronwin Foster Hall beats her. I mention her because Pinkie might know them. Were in Chinese customs. She is lovely to look at - and twice has all but died with TB. I ran into Cowey in the lift, and he asked about you, and has a newborn child, but he kept saying the Pattens wouldn't have time to come slumming in Kowloon, so I didn't feel I would be very welcome if I should look them up. I haven't run into Mrs Robertson, but will go to see her if we stick around.

I seem to have been very social - everyone feeling so sorry for the poor refugees. When I haven't been sorting, and packing, I've been out. Buddy very nicely had all our boxes ready in his house when we arrived, but of course the first time was a very quick look and grab. Then when we had an extra day, I started again looking through things. Then when we didn't go at all, I got out all sorts of things such as materials I couldn't take to Shanghai, but could make up and take, if I stayed. One trunk was like Christmas - not having seen it for more than eighteen months - and I found all sorts of things I didn't know I had, including a lovely pair of jade ear rings, and a necklace I don't remember at all. One big box Phil had packed after I left, and such things - Xmas wrapping paper, coloured bubbles, all smashed, and my lovely dancing girls broken too. When the others sat and talked, saying the same thing over and over a hundred times, I packed and re-packed - so now whenever there is a crisis of any kind, they expect me to pack again.

We have been terribly lucky, and I have a huge double room, with a sofa and chairs, &c, at one end, a big verandah, and bath, of course, and trunk closet, on the seventh floor so it isn't so noisy. The other two are together. I have spread myself in every drawer and cupboard, and am enjoying it very much! Those lovely white amah pillows are the best buy in Hong Kong - a half crown each - and I have three full of elephant ears. I had some in a Hong Kong basket hoping to get them to Shanghai, but four days on the ship didn't do them much good. Phil called me suddenly yesterday, and as it was the day we were alerted I thought he might have something special today, but he didn't mention my coming, except to advise that I packed so that I could go with a minimum, and then if possible take a maximum. Rather difficult when you've no idea what the minimum might be. I have written Phil every day since I knew we weren't going, hoping it would suffice, and I wouldn't have to phone, as my Nalle blood gets the better of me. I had my first letter from him today, taking a week, and he had heard from me, which is why he phoned (cancelling out my purpose!). Funny, my typewriter has a !, and yours doesn't.

It is now 11:00pm and I've just came back from a dinner given us by Vignoles, plus the Hudsons, and Bichard and Waters. Bichard has just heard he is flying home on Friday. He hadn't expected to go until summer, and I am wondering what other moves are afoot. Funny how much more at ease I am with "V" (as everyone calls him), here than I was in England. He was saying tonight that he thought the company ought to pay one or two calls to Shanghai for us every week. I told him I thought once a week would be marvellous, and I hope something comes of it. He goes to Japan soon, and is to be escorted around Nikko and Kyoto by Tait. I told him I wanted to go to Japan this summer if we didn't get to Shanghai, and he thought it a good idea. He calls Sir Guy, "Guy", and evidently knows him well.

Nearly all the news in the papers is about China, and I can but wonder whether it has always been like this, or whether you are getting more at your end too. An M.P. named Gammon had a lot to say in this morning's paper. We don't get much other news, tho' Churchill's speech saying he didn't expect war, yesterday, and Vansittart saying today he thought the odds were for war, were something. Also the death of two Labour M.P.s. Isn't it terrific. Billy Liddell, who is the woman who ran the blockade, but finally got to Shanghai after being shelled and taken to Tsingtao, and by train to Shanghai, has today sent her household effects out with or by her boy. Mrs Nash is very upset, thinking it must mean the end of Shanghai, but I reckon she just wants to save what she can. Mrs Keswick left today by Jardine's ship to Tientsin, having only late last night got her permit for Shanghai, via Tientsin. She is the first person to enter Shanghai that way. Quita went to see her off, and says she was rather reluctant to be going alone and thinks we will arrive before her by the direct route. The city is rife with rumours. Our permits into Shanghai direct are good until April 19^th, and Nelson is loath to mess things up by having them changed, at least until they expire.

People think Shanghai must be becoming more and more like an out-port - insofar as the life for foreigners is concerned. If over a thousand have come out, there can't be many left. They say the British Club has been taken over by Russians, and "men with snow on their boots'' (don't know who they think they are fooling) have taken over a lot of the houses in Hungjoa (around the air port), including the Keswick's. I was amused by a man who said to me when I told him that Keswick was getting his wife back, that I must remember that the King and Queen never left London during the war, even though they wanted as many of the people to go as possible. Well, the Keswicks are figureheads in the same way, and must sacrifice themselves, but it was different for me. He thinks it's a great mistake for me to go.

He's the manager of the Gloucester, and a friend of Peresypkin, through whom we are trying to keep our rooms here. Perry took me out with the manager to have Russian food. I was unwell for two days. My own fault. Perry has been very kind. He lives on the same floor. He had the emerald he promised me, and tomorrow we are going to the store or jeweller or something to choose a design to have it set. He also put the lost diamond back into my wedding ring.

Monday 3^rd April

Everything still very much in the air - or maybe even more so, as we now hear the people coming out of Shanghai are being sent by train to Tientsin, and that won't help us as far as getting in is concerned. There is a B&S ship in port, said to be waiting around to take us up to the LSTs again, but it seems to be all very hush hush - and I imagine means nothing.

I have had a delightful weekend, walked up the Peak Saturday afternoon and around Lougarde Road, and Hong Kong is even prettier than I remember it. Yesterday John Robinson took me, first that walk to Big Wave Bay, and after lunch, around the little island in Deep Water Bay. I am very stiff and sore. The weather has been lovely, but not warm enough to swim, I decided. I certainly have enjoyed that part of it - being able to sit about my room with almost nothing on. It is said to be unusually hot for the time of year. I am on my verandah typing, and I can see our office at the top of the road, and that very crowded part of the peak which looks rather like a European village, the buildings snuggled around the base of the hill. Opposite is the ferry station, and the sea to Kowloon. I've never lived down here, except that time in the Gloucester when we were surrounded by four high buildings. The other two have that room now. I hate giving up this, but we have been told to go across to the Peninsula in two days. Did hope we would get away before that. More packing. John Robinson flies to America today. He swears he wants to go down to Dunbarton, but I don't know whether he realizes how far it is. Then he goes to England, and says he will look up the boys, but you know how it is.

I was taken to what is called the Press Club, started by Americans - and who should I see first of all but Burton Crane and Sybil Moss' son - don't know which one. He is a handsome boy, oh, I suppose about twenty-five, but absurdly like Uncle Jugg, which I almost said, but luckily thought better of! Burton Crane was the same silly goose, but doesn't seem to have got a day older. He had written an operetta, and sang it to the assembled mob. Quite clever, it was, but imagine having the nerve. Then he sang many songs to piano accompaniment, then everyone started singing. One way to spend your evening. I don't know whether that goes on all the time. It was Vichy Waters who took me - he associates with Americans all the time - and he also invited me to a nice party at his house - but not yet has he asked a word about his wife, Sally, whom I see all the time, in Bournemouth, and actually had lunch with the day I left England. He has refused to go to Shanghai (says he retires in a year, and won't run the risk of being caught there) so, he's to stay on here! I know it pays to make a fuss and look after your own interests. I now hear the Hudsons are leaving, to a job in London, and a man who's had a grand time - in England throughout the war, New York and London lately while waiting to come out - gets the job in Hong Kong. There doesn't seem to be a single transfer from Shanghai. Maybe they figure they can't get them out anyway. Vignoles leaves today. Gee, I wish Phil would get the job here.

The water is so soft I can't believe it. But there is said to be a bad shortage, and the reservoirs do look low. I went to a fashion show. Never saw so many women gathered together in Hong Kong. The spectators were just as much fun as the models, and the dresses shown weren't special. The models were sweet young things but most of them very self-conscious, tho' one Russian would pass anywhere. She had a gorgeous figure, and that scornful expression of the models in Vogue. Bathing suits were fun - but some cost up to ten pounds. The shops are full of everything, but English woollens cost more than they do in England, with the tax. They are just out to make all they can. J. R. paid five pounds for a sleeveless sweater. Very nice wool, he says, but imagine! Machi, Ruth Mary has given up the East for good, but John can't go because his business was so badly hit by the war, and his Swatow business ruined by the Communists, but he seems to have his finger in everything, and must be doing well, as he flew home last summer for a week, no two, for his silver wedding. The boy is farming, and John wants to get away as soon as he can buy a farm, and they will farm it together. He just looks incredibly young for 57. And such energy.

We had a Chinese dinner, given for "V". They produced a mandarin-speaking girl for Quita and a Japanese-speaking one for me, which rather frightened me. Mr Kong still asks about Machi, and it was he that remembered I was from Japan. All these Chinese staff never fail to say very nice things to me about Phil. I think they would like to have back the old Cantonese-speaking men. Chappers is still here, waiting for Shanghai. I heard a wild tale of his being found in a gully. I don't know how be keeps it up.

Well, I seem to go on saying nothing in particular, so I won't any longer. I don't know how to write a bread and butter letter when you've lived with people months and months. It was certainly a joy being with you, but I am glad you can have the house to yourselves for a change. I expect of course Robin is there. Wonder if Ned has his licence. I hope he has, or gets it soon, and isn't as scared as I was.

Lots of love