Friday, April 29th, 1949
Letter to a Sister. (One).
Dear Sis,
Well, well. What happened since your departure? Pim is sad & serious. Even grave, He walks around like a lost sheep saying ba ba ba & on occasions mumbles vaguely about saving money and buying pots & pans.
Let me see. First thing that took place after your departure was the arrival of a telegram from the "Groote Beer", sent by Erica, reading:
"Zal je gekwek erg missen - dank voor alles - Erica!
Short after YOUR telegram arrived, saying that you arrived safely, a thing which I never doubted you would do. Still: I was none to happy with either of those wires, because of this reason: On Wednesday afternoon I was so short of cash that I called up Holkema in Amsterdam, asking what the hell etc. etc. Van de Velde was not there. So I decided to sit tight and wait until Thursday morning.
Holkema had said they would send me a wire that the businesz was Okay and the contract ready to be signed and the cash waiting. Well - I had hardly come back from Hook van Holland when Margaret Ida put in an appearance - coy and looking as frightful as ever. I promptly offered: I have a tobacco-coupon do you have any cash? She forked over a tenner. I off with the tenner. I really intended to give her back what was left.. but something went wrong. The coupon I had was not for tobacco but for cheese or something...so I had to go to Pierre where my ration card lay. However: ... Pierre had still a "kleine beer" in his books and made remarks about it. So what could I do but pay the debt out of Margery's tenner.- In the meantime I met Hans Schroeder again who was in top form. He was exuberant and boisterous like a boxer who had just won against an opponent who weighs seven stone more. We both went to see Coebergh about the Frankenslag business and Coebergh said the best thing to do would be to ask for another 14 days deferment of the case. Schroeder agreed. He was in a mood to agree to anything.
We went to the Frankenslag afterward because Hans had wanted to buy books as countervalue for the Fl. 10,- he had given me the day before at New China. Remember? I said: come along; Margery is there and her 10 bucks are already gone. I'll tell her so. He laughed his head off. Probably since we had so often used up money that was his, that it gave him a special pleasure to see it happen to someone else for a change.
I told Margaret her tenner was practically gone. Boy, did we laugh! Subsequently I sold Hans the two worst books out of my collection for 10 guild. Then the first wire arrived, Erica's. I read it to Margaret, who kept on making faces and repeating:
"Thanks for everything.....Erica, EVERYTHING!.."
I was angry, for when that wire arrived I thought it was Holkema's. Five minutes later another ring. A second wire!
I looked at it. It said: "VDHOUT - Frankenslag 82".-
I said: "Hey - that's not for me but for a v.d.Hout living at 82".
The postboy:
"I've been at number 82 sir, but they said that v.d.Hout lived at 40".
I stared at him in amazement, for how could anyone at 82 know that there was a v.d.Hout living at 40? I tore the wire open. It read:
"Must go to Amsterdam urgently tonight. See you tomorrow. Jelgersma".
I didn't know any Jelgersma. I said to the postboy:
"Look here- this wire is NOT for me. It's for no. 82".
He said:
"I've been there and it wasn't for them either. Keep it".-
And he got onto his bike and pushed off.
I thought it over. I reasoned like this:
"If anyone at No. 82 knows that there is a vdHout living at 40, that means that there IS a vdHout at 82, and there has been a mix-up before for else how could they know? So I put on a coat ant gloves and walked over to 82 and rang the bell. Who opened the door?....
The major (Heimel), who had rented the ground floor of Frankenslag 40!!! We stared at each other in blank surprise. (I thought the guy lived somewhere near Utrecht or so...) He looked at my hand and said:
"Oh - there's that damned telegram again!..."
I said: "It's not for me, sir".
He had off his uniform coat and chewed something (it was dinner time).
"It's not for me either. My name is not vdHout."
I became warm:
"No - but I don't live at 82."
"But I don't know anybody called Jelgersma".
"I don't, either".
He didn't want the wire. I wanted to get this cleared up. I explained:
"Look here, sir. There is a mix-up. I think it's like this: this wire was sent by someone who had the correct address: Frankenslag 82, written down somewhere... but came to Frankenslag 40, because he had to do something there, a painter, or a carpenter, or somebody like that. And on the jamb of the front door he read each time my name: vdHout. So when sending you a telegram he might quite well have the correct number but the wrong name. See? Do you know a carpenter or a painter called Jelgersma?"
He went to ask his wife and came back in exasperation:
"No. We DON'T!"
I put down the telegram on the table.
"Well; keep it. It's not for me."
He looked at the wire as if he would have loved to throw me plus the wire both out of the house, but was satisfied with slamming the door with a bang.
Coming back, Hans was gone. I had a lovely tête à tête with Margery. I felt an urgent need for a drink. She said she would love one. She went to get a bottle of Bols. She had hardly left when the bell rang: telegram!
This time from Holkema and Warendorf. I had to be in Amsterdam next afternoon at three o'clock. Only that and nothing more!
(Margery had na de derde borrel een stuk in haar kraag en wilde nu eindelijk vrouw worden i.p.v. een meisje, zei ze. Ik heb het maar gedaan, en ze was er erg dankbaar voor de volgende morgen, zei ze. Wéér een telegram: "Dank voor alles - Margery".)
Volgende morgen vroeg was ik nogal zenuwachtig. Als dat met die 1000 pop niet lukken zou.. Oei, oei!... Ik had overal beren en beertjes en ze bromden allemaal!.... The morning post brought a note from Betty, the beautiful gold blonde, making a date for me at 4.30 that afternoon.
I had just three guilders left from the evening before, and I was so tense, that I didn't dare borrow another ten bucks. I went to Amsterdam at 12 noon, and had one cup of coffee at Popularis at a cost of 10 cents and wondered what I was going to do when something went wrong.
But nothing went wrong. They had everything ready... the contract and the receipt and the money and at a quarter to four I stood in the bright sun on the Keizersgracht, with 1000 bucks in my pocket.
I had decided I was going to be very sensible with that money. I went straight to the railway station, bought a cup of coffee and some sandwich, ate them in the train and felt swell. Boy, did I feel good! - I didn't spend a cent in the train. I was very sensible. I wondered whether I would get off the train in Leiden, in order to ring Betty in time (at 4.30), but I decided to be sensible, go on to the Hague, and ring her a little later.
I did. I got into a telephone box, very sensibly, at fife to fife and rang Betty. I said, if I remember right:
"Willy-W speaking. I'm a little late, but I just got off the train from Amsterdam, with my pockets full of money. Have a drink with me."
She:
"Okay but where can I meet you? I'll have to be back at seven, for my husband is back then".
I:
"I'll pick you up in a taxi".
I did. She looked lovely. (Recently I went to pick a dress for her and she really is one of the nicest looking women in the Hague, even at her age. Her figure is still nearly perfect and I know pretty well every inch of it by now).
We had cocktails at the Witte Kasteeltje. There was no one there (for it was Witte Donderdag then), and we had the bar opened specially for us. At half past eight we left. I saw her home in a taxi, drove back, and went to pick up Joop and Oyens, went on to Richter's and bought one bottle of Bols, See how wise I was with the money? - We went to the Jeep.
And something went wrong there. We all drank Coca Cola with lots of gin in it. I paid my bill at the Jeep and 35 guilders more, explaining to Houtman that very often we owed him money so that it was only reasonable that when we had money we paid him more than the debt, which gave us a credit-balance with him, which we could use up. (I'm still drinking coffee there without paying, each day, and every time the amount in the Houtman-bank becomes a little smaller. We agreed that when I passed the 0-mark he would ring a bell or something until I owe HIM 30 guilders and then I'll pay him seventy or so etc. etc.
Well when we sat at the Jeep, drinking Coca Cola with gin, in comes Bobby Meyer, the English boy who had arrived in a car. He got Cola-gin too. We all became rather merry. We all got into the car and drove over to the Frankenslag. We picked up Impi there. In the meantime Bobby got a fine for parking in front of the Jeep and then another one for insulting an officer in bad Dutch. With Impi we went to Nol Kerstens. Joop and Oyens left after a while for Joop didn't want Oyens to drink. Haha! Listen: we all got terribly drunk. I went out, found a taxi, went to get Mieke Rover and bought a crate full of Coca Cola first. A whole box! Then we coasted about, buying bottles. The total result was that at two o'clock that night Impi decided that it was a damn shame to let me handle all that money and snatched it out of my pocket.
Frankly sis: I'm damned glad she did, for she kept a tight grip on it and if she hadn't the lord knows what had happened.
Haha. Listen. I had made a date with Betty for the next morning, eleven o'clock. Impi was very swift and efficient. She moved in at 10.15 next morning, when I was still sleeping, as drunk as a lord, (I had gone to bed at five in the morning), with my money in her handbag. woke me up, and followed me like a shadow.
Oh, sis, she was great! You should have been there at eleven o'clock on the "Tirdi"-terrace when Betty arrived, dressed to kill, with golden hair and vermillion lips, and found Impi, sitting beside me, very confidently and calmly, and very sure of herself for there was not a thing I could do, since she had all my money in her bag!...
Betty took it very well, for Betty. She left at one o'clock, at Pim's place. I paid Pim. (Or rather: Impi did. She called herself my "kasmaîtresse".) I gave Pim back his radio. We bought one pair of wonderful Manfield shoes, a bright blue pair of trousers, a new coat, socks, underwear, a new sweater, a pair of shoes for Impi, paid all the debts, paid my new radio-amplifier to Charles Clabbers (more about that radio later!!!), paid the taxes and then there was not very much left.
But don't let that worry you - there's new business ahead. I'll tell you about those things later. Joop had a job with a film company, but lost it already, for what did the damned fool do when he started work? Not ask: "What am I supposed to do?"... He started making lots of trouble about the working conditions of the men in the dark room, developing films. Of course no one had asked him to do that. The men said (according to Joop: "At last someone who tells the boss off...") Joop kicked out with two weeks salary. Oyens is looking for a job now. They sold Peggy for 28 guilders.
In the meantime I moved to Jungeling's house. Next time I'll tell you the wonderful story of the move-over. Boy! Did we have fun! Please note my new address:
Van den Hout, Frederik Hendriklaan 23, telefoon 555214.
I took good note of the things you wrote me about sugar and soap and a plaid. We shall send them to you - Pim and me will also arrange for a gramophone record with our voices on it.
This is all for today. More news in my next letter. Greetings and regards from Nellie and Mrs. Mooyman and Miep.
Mieke broke it up with Quizzie, who had already got so sick of her stupid, pretty face that he started groaning when she came into the room.
Sis, my sincere regards to Mrs. Thompson, and all the smaller Thompsons.
P.S. The mystery telegram, two days later, proved to have been for Joop, Scheveningseweg 82! Think of the coincidence!
P.P.S. I just got a letter for you from Spoelmans. Enclosed!
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