AN: This is referencing chapters 17,18, and 19 of Abracadebra's 'Mavis, Are You Bloody Well Kidding Me?'

Peter Newkirk, I could crown you. What were you thinking writing to Da like that? He came over to-night, showed it to Mam and they talked. They're still talking in the sitting room with those quiet just above a whisper tones like when we were little.

He cried, Pete. From what I overheard from the kitchen - don't tut-tut me for eavesdropping. I have a bloody right to know what's going on - he didn't know what he was doing all those years. He really didn't know how bad it hurt. Why didn't he know, Pete? How can someone wreck a family, tear it up time and again, and not know?

He told me after his first visit that he wants to start over with a clean slate; that he's squared things with his Majesty and now he wants to square with us. I want to. Lord knows I want that more than anything, always have… but how can I? It's hard not to feel like a bloody fool sitting in Mass praying for him to come back home. Of course, when he did, he'd be drunk off his arse before a fortnight's past and back to his old tricks by the end of a month.

Don't worry about tears, I've not had any left to waste on him. I'm sure by now news of the invasion has reached even Stalag 13. My mate, Bea's young American fell on the beaches. That lad from Bristol I was getting to know made it a week before he got himself killed. You know me, a bit of a tease, but I really started to care for him. Enough of my woes. If Mam knew I was troubling you like this, she'd give me another bolloxing.

I'm pleased the betty was such a hit. I'll try to send more sugar cubes next week when I get my paycheque. It feels like prices are always going up. One pence here; a thruppenny there. Just last month, Grimly on the corner was hauled in by the coppers for profiteering. His old lady's put the shop up for sale, but I'd be surprised if she gets more than a couple hundred quid. Lines are long and meat scarce. You'd think with all you lads away at war there'd be more than enough to go around for the rest of us.

Peter, it's Maggie. I ain't had a letter in ages! Not since Valentine's at least. I espect something in the next post or so help me, I'll stow away on a submarine and march all the way to Berlin to see you!

She's as sneaky as you are! Made out like Mam wanted me just to get me away from the desk long enough to write that. Seriously, send her something even if it's just a postscript. She checks the post daily, sometimes twice a day. It's getting so Mr. Hastings sees her more than we do!

Keep going to those services between me, Mam, and Robert, we'll have you into a decent member of the community by war's end. Not like before with all that pick-pocketing and forgery. Bet you thought I didn't know about all your sordid activities, hmm? By the way, Alf said to send you some luck, that you'd need it now more than ever. Just what did he mean? Are you telling your secrets to him and not me?

Your offended and more than a bit hurt sister,

Mav

P.S I love you too, you daft sod.