Joan Zilva

Text Box: An  account of a 14 year old’s WW2 overseas evacuation based on her letters home























Chapter Three part 2

Text Box: This must have been enclosed with a letter, unsealed.  Did I really believe that my father wouldn’t read it?  One didn’t talk about periods to any man in those days!
Text Box: Not now a politically correct term!  I had never before met a non-Caucasian.
Text Box: What sort of “love”?
Text Box: “Kiss me” hides a multitude of sins!  In fact, he came up after I was in bed every evening, felt me all over, and French kissed me at length.  I was physically mature, but knew nothing about the sexual act.  I only knew there was something wrong, but thought it was just me.  The fact that I didn’t mention it in my letters shows that I was confused and I said I liked him because I had to like someone and he, at least, was kind to me, whatever the motives.  I think that Mrs Hay knew, and thought I was leading him on!!
Text Box: This non sequitur must have been in answer to a question from home.
Text Box: It must be remembered that, in those days, girls in Britain were much less sophisticated than they are now and certainly did not use make-up at that age.  There may also be an element of rebellion against becoming Canadianised and keeping my British identity (as I saw it) in my obsession with this type of femininity.   Miss Ransford and Miss Adams were, of course, the headmistresses whose letters are quoted  in chapter 1.
Text Box: Chewing gum was virtually unknown in Britain then.  They also had a habit of sticking gum under the desk tops and chairs, which was unpleasant to find unexpectedly.
Text Box: Perhaps sex was rearing its ugly head in my subconscious!
Text Box: Not the best picture of Niagara I have ever taken!