My Friend Kitty

I find it sad that when I find something interesting and think I must tell so-and-so only to remember a moment later that he/she had died a few years back. That's what happens when you live so long.
This week I read a letter about George Mitchell of the Black & White Minstrels show. A terribly non-PC entertainment modelled on Al Jolson songs etc. which we unsophisticates enjoyed. I'm sure George Mitchell never intended to upset anyone. Anyway this letter referred to his time in the Royal Army Pay Corps. My friend, Kitty, was called up in the 1940s for the A.T.S. (a most unlikely soldier) and worked in the same room as George Mitchell in the City of London and I wanted to tell her about the letter.
Kitty and I met when we were 12 and remained friends until she went to meet her Maker in 2007. I know that's where she went because she was a saint but one with a great sense of humour. Despite her many troubles she never complained.
On the 7th September when the blitz on London began Kitty and I had been swimming at Buckingham Palace Road Baths. We went to her home in Grosvenor Square where her family lived in the basement. Her mother was the housekeeper. Next door lived the Earl of Onslow and we were friends with Bridie, one of the maids. The sirens went as we hurried home. We could hear the planes. We arrived home safely and, of all things, went up on to the roof to see what was happening. We could hardly believe our eyes. Looking towards the East End the whole horizon was red. The bombers had set the city alight to provide a beacon for the planes which were to follow within a few hours with high explosives, The bombing went on for hours. A good job we didn't know about all the nights that were to follow.