Letter from Cairo, dated 12 May 1927 to Miss Charlotte Harlot (pronounced Harlow)

Dearest Cousin Lottie,

How are you, old thing? Thanks for your letter. Completely unexpected as was the unique mottling effect on the paper which I deduce by the general tone of the letter and the sharp jaunty handwriting was caused by tears and unbridled sobbing.

Look, I know you were fond of Langers but lets put things into perspective: 1) He's not dead and 2) You know his reputation; he was always a cad of the first order and I'm saying this as his friend. When we were at school together, he used to leave a trail of inconsolable girls and human wrecks in his wake. Poor unfortunate creatures whom he had just used and mercilessly thrown away. It took a women like Kitty with a will of iron, an inheritance the size of Monaco's national budget and the seclusion of the middle of the African jungle, well away from any living, breathing female (human or otherwise) to tame him or at least restrain him. Though I am not convinced that his condition is irreversible given the wrong person, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Before you get any thoughts, you are not that person. You may not have an older brother but I am the next best thing. I've always watched out for you since we were little. I've lost count of the number of times I've been punched in the face because of you. Don't let my caved in nasal crypts and my subsided septum be in vane.

Besides, you're only twenty three. Look at me! I'm twenty seven, still studying, with no career and no girl to hang on my arm of an evening. No girl for me to drag to remote parts of the globe where white people are seldom seen by the indigenous population and are either feared, revered or possibly eaten. (I've yet to find a place that offers straight uncomplicated crossbreeding - fear, loathing and hunger are the most common responses but I digress).  Wedgy on the other hand has a thriving career in politics, drives the bees knees of cars, and is engaged to a top notch girl. Then there's Langers and even Charlie! See-through Charlie! The boy who always won Hide and Seek by standing behind standard lamps, sign posts and clinging to the sides of banisters. Even in his painfully thin and emaciated state, he has still managed to get hooked up with a young lady who is very happy with him and whom he is thinking of settling down with. He's even put on a bit of weight around the ears I believe.

What I'm trying to say, is that there will be other far more dashing, reliable chaps out there, desperate to meet a corker of a girl like you. Just don't go to the wedding, get drunk and end up snogging the groom. That can only lead to misery and despair. Besides, I'm told Kitty has a wicked right hook!

I'm back a couple of days before the main event so why don't we spend some time away from the house, just the two of us; preferably with a not so light lunch and refreshments courtesy of the Mouldy Truckle. It's either that, or breaking your teeth on Mama's patented fruit scones and burning the stomach linings with one of her rather austere jams. See you then.

Love and best wishes,

Jack.