1st May 1926 Dear Alec, Just when those who should be working are all downing tools for this wretched strike (and I still can t believe it I mean to say: riots, Alec in Edinburgh of all places) guess who is setting her virgin shoulder to its very first wheel? I am dressed in serge and sensible footwear, sleeping in an iron bed and dining off pickled tongue at six o clock each day. I am, in short, that nice young Mrs Balfour's new maid. But don t worry, Alec dear: things haven t got as bad as all that. It s just that that nice young Mr Balfour is going to kill his wife. At least, she thinks so, and the more I hear about him from butler, cook and bootboy the more I m inclined to agree. So I m undercover, in disguise, bent upon foiling. And jolly hard work it is too tomorrow is my half-day free if you d care take me out for a restorative bun. (Every maid needs a beau to buy buns for her.) Yours, Dandy xx p.s. Ask for Miss Rossiter: below stairs I am she.