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THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12
http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=14&t=1988

Author:  patmac [ 30 Jan 2007, 21:02 ]
Post subject:  THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12

At last! Parts 1 to 12 are in the archives together with a few 'snippets' of stories and I have them on word docs as well. Just pm me with your email address if you want to read them without yibble.


Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed. The trip to Cornwall was going to be difficult with all the youngsters and only his car to carry the luggage. Hang it all, they were again ending up with a positive horde of extra children while Madge swanned off with only two – and couldn’t manage without Jem’s big car, or Rosa to help. Hang it all!

He felt a little guilty that his first thought when Reg told him that Auntie had sprained her ankle badly so they wouldn’t be coming on the holiday was that he had been relying on them to help Jo and Anna on the train.

That turned his thoughts to Reg. He’d come all the way to Armiford and gone back the same day rather than let Jimmy down. Poor lads. It hadn’t been easy for either of them, though Sister Heywood said they hadn’t let on how they were feeling and had coped really well. Reg had flown his kite for the boys afterwards and Jimmy had been so proud to hold it for a while.

Oh, well. Time to go home and get the car packed for an early start. Sybil, Peggy, Rix and Bride would help and Primula was always helpful. Poor kids, it wouldn’t do to make them feel unwanted – still eleven children was a handful to cope with and Jo could do with a rest as well as Madge.

*

Reg managed to get a compartment to himself and thankfully settled down in the corner to sort out his thoughts. It had been a shock when he arrived home to find Auntie in bed and Miss Armitage waiting for him, though once he had reassured himself that she wasn’t badly hurt, he’d felt a bit better. They’d had a right set to when he said he wasn’t going to Cornwall but would stay and look after her but there was no way he could have gone and not worried.

He supposed it could happen to anyone. She’d tripped in the yard on the edge of a paving stone and fallen awkwardly. He’d get those re-laid this holiday so it didn’t happen again.

Then, of course, he’d seen Uncle Jack’s face when he said he wasn’t staying. He hadn’t realised till then that they were taking eleven children away and Mike was only a baby. He pondered about it. How could Sybil’s parents just dump them all like that when the Maynards had six of their own as well as Primula and there was plenty of room at The Witchens for them all.

He hoped Uncle Jack hadn’t noticed how disapproving he’d felt – after all it was none of his business, as Auntie was fond of telling him.

Poor Jimmy had been so nervous of going on the ward and he’d seen the younger boy’s eyes go to the bed where Billy had once laid. There was another boy in it now and Jimmy had clutched Reg’s hand for a second. He’d been a brave lad and managed to talk to the boys he knew and got to know the newer ones. Sister had said that they hardly ever saw patients once they had gone home and it would really buck the boys up to see someone as well as Jimmy was.

They’d flown Reg’s kite afterwards and Jimmy had been so proud to take a turn at flying it. The cheers as they finished had caused the rooks in the old elm trees to take flight, shouting as loudly as the boys.

Finally, he faced the issue which was bothering him most. Reg was not given to hero worship. His background was too down to earth and Auntie’s rugged independence had influenced him more than he knew. Even his reverence for Doctors had given way to respect and a more realistic attitude as Uncle Jack had taken pains to make it clear that they were not supermen but subject to the same frailties and frustrations as anyone else.

Even so, he had not been able to get rid of a sense of awe of Doctor Jem – after all, even the King respected the great doctor enough to make him a Knight. Uncle Jack said he was one of the great authorities on the treatment of TB. Doctor Jem always looked and sounded so confident as well. In fact, sometimes, Reg realised belatedly, he didn’t just tell you something, he pronounced it from on high.

So why, if Doctor Jem was so clever, couldn’t he manage things so that he could cope with his family if his wife couldn’t? Every holidays, it seemed that the older Russell children and the Bettanys were fobbed off on Auntie Jo.

When Doctor Jem had called at the school after the incident on the moor when Chris had fallen down the cleft, Auntie Madge had seemed very nice, in fact, sweet – yes, that was the word ‘sweet’. She didn’t have the liveliness that Auntie Jo had. He grinned as he thought of how Auntie Jo would have handled the visit. She wouldn’t have just sat on the sofa and smiled ‘sweetly’, there was nothing ‘sweet’ about Auntie Jo.

He’d overheard Auntie Jo commenting to Uncle Jack that her sister had changed, that she wasn’t like that when she was younger – come to think of it, he couldn’t imagine the woman he knew moving to Austria and starting a school.

He knew that the two families were intertwined and, probably because they seemed to have taken on so many children of relatives, they had moved them round somewhat. Robin and Daisy didn’t count any more in Reg’s eyes, they were grown up now, but that still left a lot of children and the Russells were only looking after two of them this holiday. Oddly enough, he realised, he hardly knew David who seemed to spend his holidays with friends rather than his family.

Did Doctor Jem care about his family? It didn’t sound like it. Reg felt very disapproving of that, whatever Auntie might say. He supposed he would have to be polite to him when he came down to see how Auntie was – Mrs Purvis was sure to tell them about her sprained ankle.

Reg’s head nodded and he dozed off to sleep.

*

Jem glanced across at Madge. She was asleep, just as he expected. From the back of the car he could hear the quiet murmur of Rosa’s voice as she patiently answered a question from Ailie who, would be four while they were on holiday. Looking in the mirror, he could see Josette watching the countryside avidly through the window. She looked a picture of health – though Madge still wasn’t prepared to accept that she was.

He wished again that he had more time for the family. He knew Madge resented the fact that he was away so much. His teeth ground in frustration as he thought of the time conferences and lectures took away from home. It was ridiculous how his baronetcy had somehow opened doors he had been hammering on for years – and now they were open, they somehow sucked him in relentlessly.

He didn’t mind the serious debates, the visits to see new developments in the treatment of the disease he had – Oh Lord, how many years ago! – set his ambition to subdue. What he resented was the assumption that he was somehow more worth listening to because he was now ‘Sir James Russell’. At least half of the lectures he gave fell on deaf ears, their owners too polite to argue with a ‘Sir’ but only too ready to ignore what he had to say once they were home again. Oh, how he envied Jack, who could continue to be a real physician and concentrate on his immediate patients – and spend time being a father.

If only Madge . . . he stopped that train of thought right there! She hadn’t realised what lay ahead when she married him. It all seemed so simple then – Madge kept closely involved in the school, the San was humming along nicely. There was always Jo in the holidays, of course, but he’d known he was taking her on when he married Madge. There was time to be alone together, even after David and Sybil came along, even though there was Robin around.

His lips compressed. It hadn’t lasted long enough. First Margot had arrived with her two little girls and they had, effectively, doubled the size of their family overnight – just as the San had increased in size and taken up a lot more of his time. He loved his sister and her two little girls and had been devastated when Margot died, but as the Nazi menace became more apparent, it had added to the worry for him and Madge. Then there were Dick’s children. He could hardly object to taking them on since they had his nieces. The escape from Austria had been hard on Madge. She had worried about Margot travelling with the children, worried about the School, been terrified when Jo, Robin and the others had been escaping across the mountains – and pregnant as well. He hadn’t been as helpful as he might have been, even then. He had several very sick English patients who needed evacuating and many English staff as well. As it was, they had lost two patients on the journey.

He still felt bad that Jo and Jack had taken Daisy and Primula to live with them. After all, they were his nieces, not theirs. They’d taken Robin as well and she was the daughter of his friend. He wished he hadn’t agreed to that.

He glanced across at Madge again. Asleep, she looked ten years younger than she did when she was awake. At least Ailie would be the last child, he was determined of that and Madge was showing signs that her child bearing time was passing, anyway. Perhaps she would regain her enthusiasm for life as the children grew up. She needed a change – he wondered about that conference in Canada next year. If they both took an extended trip over there, he could visit some of the newer Sanatoria and Madge might get jolted out of her apathy in a new environment. He’d think about it and sound her out – she might be persuaded if he said it would do Josette good.

At least Jo and Anna had Reg and his Auntie to help on the journey.

*

Auntie was downstairs within a couple of days but she had to keep her foot up as much as possible or it swelled alarmingly. She wasn’t a good patient and found herself criticising the way Reg did things. She felt bad about it but the words just came out wrong – what made it worse was that he never argued back, though she could tell he was finding it difficult by the way his face went blank with the effort not to snap back. He’d given up his holiday for her and she couldn’t even feel grateful. She’d always found it hard to sit still and she kept trying to get around, even though it hurt and Reg tried to persuade her not to.

She was surprised that no one had been down from the Witchens to see how she was. Reg showed no inclination to go up and see them, though he could have done now she was downstairs. She had pulled him up a few times before for seeming to criticise the way they appeared to parcel their children out at every available chance but he didn’t really understand. Some women didn’t take as much joy in motherhood as others. She’d found it difficult to understand one of her sisters when her children were small. They spent most of their time at their Grandparents’ or running wild. She’d been critical of Ethel and it didn’t seem fair when she and Bert wanted children and couldn’t have them. Perhaps Madge felt the same. If so, she felt sorry for her, though she couldn’t possibly explain that to Reg. Everything was too black and white for him yet – he was still young.

*

“I wish Reg was here.” Jem commented on the fourth evening of their holiday. “I’d like to go for a good tramp on the moors and he knows all the good routes.”

Madge looked up from the magazine she was reading. “Oh, didn’t I tell you. Mrs Purvis said they didn’t go to Cornwall after all. She said something about Auntie spraining her ankle.” She started reading again and then looked up startled as Jem erupted from his chair.

“What! Why didn’t you tell me. Do you realise that Jo and Anna have four of our children as well as their own six and Primula who should be our responsibility. I know Jack was relying on Auntie and Reg to help on the journey and when he went back to the San.”

Madge gaped at him. “Don’t shout Jem, you’ll wake Ailie. Anyway, it’s not as if any of ours are tiny. They’ll make themselves useful.”

“Then why didn’t they come with us? You said you couldn’t cope with them all.”

“I’m just so tired all the time. Anyway, Jo gets a lot more help with the children from Jack at home than I do from you, you’re away so much. Jo will manage, she seems to have so much energy these days.”


Jem clamped his jaws shut on a hot reply. It was true he wasn’t at home much these days and Madge had taken over all the running of the home and the children – in fact she’d given up consulting him about anything and he’d even come home once to find a new bathroom where his dressing room had been.

“I’m going to ring Jack. He’ll be back home by now, since we can’t both be away at once.”

“Well, he should have booked his holiday a different two weeks from you. You are the Boss after all.”


Jem counted to ten. “They couldn’t get the cottage any other time, Madge you know that. I only agreed to sending our lot off with them because Auntie was going as well. If he’s not happy about it, we’ll go home on Sunday and let him go back to Cornwall.”

“You’re worrying over nothing, Jem. You promised me two weeks away with you so don’t spoil it, please. Perhaps Auntie is well enough for Reg to go down now. You could go and ask her tomorrow before you ring Jack, I’ve got a headache now, I’m going to bed.”


Jem sat for a long while with his head in his hands. He didn’t know who to ask for advice. If Jack had not been his brother-in-law, he might have talked to him but there was no one else at the San that the Boss could talk to. Somewhere, he had gone wrong and was slowly losing his wife and family. David had taken to spending most of his holidays with friends – at least he seemed to have an endless supply of them, though he rarely brought them back to The Round House. Sybil was off to the Maynards every chance she got. It would be easier if he didn’t love Madge, but he did with his heart and soul, with an aching heart for the girl she had been and the conviction that it was all his fault. Eventually, he went to bed and lay awake, feeling so lonely beside his sleeping wife.

*

Rosa had the children ready for breakfast in the big kitchen by the time Jem came downstairs. When he told her that her Mistress was feeling unwell, she was quick to reassure him that she could cope easily with the children while he went down to the village and once he had set off, she prepared a dainty tray for Madge and ran upstairs with it, using the excuse that she couldn’t leave the children to forestall any extra instructions about Josette’s care that Madge might give.

Marie said that she thought the Frau Doktor was getting to a difficult time in her life and that was why she was always tired. Rosa couldn’t see why it should be any different for a rich woman than for Marie herself who was not much different in age and seemed the same as ever but she knew Marie would be cross if she aired her views so she kept quiet, but thought the more.

She quickly washed up the breakfast dishes and decided to take the children out into the orchard where they could play without disturbing their mother. Then they could pick some raspberries to have at lunch time.

Sitting with her knitting while the children played, she gave herself up to her favourite daydream. She had a truly maternal nature and often wished that the children she cared for were her own. Of course, she wouldn’t let them be cared for by anyone else and they certainly wouldn’t be packed off to school for most of the year. She would have two boys and two girls and live in a nice house with roses round the door. The children would play in the garden and she wouldn’t get cross when they got muddy – not that she would spoil them, mind! In her view, the Russell children had too many clothes and possessions - they hardly played with some of their toys and that was wasteful.

Somewhere in the background was a shadowy father for the children, but he hardly counted. He would earn enough money for them to bring the children up respectably but he would never go away and would always be home to kiss them goodnight.

The dream was interrupted by Ailie who deposited a worm in her hand. “Oom!” she said with satisfaction. “Big oom.”

“It is, mein liebling but we should put him back in the flower bed.”


Ailie’s brow furrowed. “No, he’s for Mummy.”

Rosa managed to stop herself laughing at the Frau Doktor’s reaction to being presented with a worm and gathered Ailie to her for a hug with her free hand.

“The poor worm will be sad away from his own Mummy. Let us put him back where you found him and pick some flowers for Mummy instead.”

Ailie readily agreed to this and Rosa carried the worm across to the flower bed and placed it where the little girl showed her. Together, they watched the creature burrow down into the soil and Ailie waved to it as it disappeared.

“Bye, oom. All gone!” she said with satisfaction. “Now we pick flowers for Mummy.”

Josette joined them and they picked a large bunch of flowers and took them into the kitchen to put them in water. Josette wanted to take them upstairs straight away but Rosa persuaded her to put them in the sitting room till her mother got up. At least while the Frau Doktor stayed in bed, she could get the sitting room dusted. It was nice being in charge.

Author:  Kat [ 30 Jan 2007, 21:05 ]
Post subject: 

WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! It's back!!!

Thank you Pat! :D

I feel like shaking Madge for being so selfish! I like Jem though (which makes a change *G*)

As for Reg *hugs him lots* Not nice for Auntie being in pain, but I hope she realises how unfair she's being to Reg soon.

Author:  Lesley [ 30 Jan 2007, 21:21 ]
Post subject: 

Lovely to see this back again Pat - and you've got me feeling sorry for Jack, Jo and Jem and wanting to shake Madge!!!! I think she must be depressed or something - and she comes across so selfish.

Good thing Jem has that Canada conference to fall back on, isn't it? :lol:


Thanks Pat

Author:  Chair [ 30 Jan 2007, 22:44 ]
Post subject: 

Thanks, Pat. It's great to have this back! I'm sorry that Madge is being difficult.

Author:  Vikki [ 30 Jan 2007, 22:45 ]
Post subject: 

Huzzah!!!
Thanks Pat! It's brilliant to have this back.
I REALLY want to smack Madge!! She's being VERY selfish here.
And poor Reg, and also Rosa as well. She was really denied any chance at having her own family.

Author:  jacey [ 30 Jan 2007, 22:46 ]
Post subject: 

Oh, its great to see this back again! I *so* like Reg in this world. And Madge really is being Lady Russell isn't she? Of course we know that Kevin and Kester are just around the corner, figuratively speaking, so she will get the shaking up she needs!

Author:  Squirrel [ 30 Jan 2007, 22:49 ]
Post subject: 

Phew - I went through many stages throughout that Pat. First irritation with Jack, then with Jem as I came to understand his issues, and eventually with Madge as I came to see how she wasn't helping anything.

I do think that it would be possible for Jem to reorganise things, though it would be very difficult - and as he doesn't seem to be able to talk to anyone about it that makes things so much worse.

Madge's calm selfishness had me wanting to shake her though.

Looking forwards to seeing how this progresses - thanks Pat.

Author:  Pat [ 30 Jan 2007, 23:10 ]
Post subject: 

I felt sorry for Madge. She is completely divorced from the Real World isn't she? She can't see what's going on properly, or that there's anything the matter with her. It's a pity because she's losing out on so much - and losing her son too.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 30 Jan 2007, 23:52 ]
Post subject: 

Oh my...so many criss-crossed points of view, and so many subtleties ...and who is right? Maybe they all are.....

Thank you Pat.

Author:  Alex [ 31 Jan 2007, 00:03 ]
Post subject: 

This is a much nicer Jem than we usually see on the Board, I like it!
Thanks, Pat. So happy to see this back. :D

Author:  delilah_siren [ 31 Jan 2007, 09:47 ]
Post subject: 

yay! it's back!
:D

Author:  Caroline [ 31 Jan 2007, 10:40 ]
Post subject: 

Strikes me Madge is depressed - the apathy and general lethargy aren't good, but I don't think she's knowingly shirking or being selfish. It'll be interesting to see how the family cope.

Fabulous to see this back Pat!

Caroline.

Author:  Jennie [ 31 Jan 2007, 10:45 ]
Post subject: 

Wonderful!!!!!!!! It's back!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks, Pat. it's so lovely to see a different aspect of thier lives. Why is Madge so tired when she has a housekeeper, a manservant and a nanny? It could be something as simple as anaemia, but it's clear that there is something wrong, and Perhps Jem isn't seeing what's under his nose. Still, Madge does seem to be rather selfish in this.

Author:  Nell [ 31 Jan 2007, 11:10 ]
Post subject: 

Yay it's back! Echoing everyone else's thoughts about Mdge and Jem.

Thank you Pat.

Author:  keren [ 31 Jan 2007, 12:38 ]
Post subject: 

TB expert with tired wife all the time

I am not suggested that she had symptoms, but he should have thought about running some blood tests on her for general anemia, thyroid or whatever

Author:  Karoline [ 31 Jan 2007, 13:28 ]
Post subject: 

So glad to see Reg back Pat

Author:  Alice [ 31 Jan 2007, 13:56 ]
Post subject: 

Wonderful to see this back. I hope that the Russell family's situation improves.

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 31 Jan 2007, 15:28 ]
Post subject: 

You should have heard the very loud "OOOOOH!" I gave when I saw this was back. And, like Linda in The Pursuit of Love, it was so good that I had to keep stopping, for fear of finishing too quickly!

Author:  Dawn [ 02 Feb 2007, 23:55 ]
Post subject: 

So glad to see this back Pat - and as ever you manage to get accross all the different view points so well that I've felt sympathetic for all of them in turn, even Madge - she's obviously changed so much and she's the one who is loosing out so much. Like other's I wonder if she's depressed and back in the 40's depression just wasn't recognised in the way it is now. Also her life has changed so much from her being Madge Bettany looking after her poorly little sister to Lady Russell who most people bow down to - although she was highly respected when she ran the Chalet School that was for her own hard work and success, not for being an "appendage" of Jem.

Author:  Identity Hunt [ 05 Feb 2007, 11:29 ]
Post subject: 

Patmac,
how lovely to have this back again !
Hooray !!!!

Author:  patmac [ 06 Feb 2007, 20:15 ]
Post subject: 

Sorry for the delay in posting. I've hardly been on the board since I posted the first episode. I've got some serious catching up to do! :shock:



Jem strode down the hill with mixed feelings. If he had known Auntie had hurt herself, he would have visited as soon as they arrived and they were sure to know Mrs Purvis would have told them about her ankle. The very fact that Reg had not called in made him wonder what the boy was thinking. It was silly really but sometimes Reg made him feel a little uneasy, almost as if he was critical of the Russells. It was ridiculous to read that into the rather neutral look Reg sometimes cast upon him. After all the lad was only 16 and not exactly worldly wise at that.

He knocked at the door of the little cottage and, after a moment, Reg came to the door.

“Hello, Reg.” Said Jem, heartily, as Reg stood silently before him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been down before but I wasn’t there when Mrs Purvis told Madge that Auntie had hurt her foot so I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hello, Doctor Jem. Auntie’s over the worst now. Would you like to see her?”

“Please.”
Said Jem, rather more humbly. “If it is convenient.”

Reg held the door open and Jem walked in. Auntie sat with her leg up on the settee, looking rather pale and with a large bruise on her cheek. He could see that her ankle, which was very professionally strapped up, was swollen. Jem forgot Reg’s reaction and went across to Auntie.

“My goodness, you did come a purler. I didn’t realise you’d hurt yourself this much.”

“I’m a lot better now and Miss Armitage says now the bruising is right out, I’ll mend quickly enough. It’s kind of you to visit, though. Do you have time for a cup of tea?”


Jem stole a glance at Reg who sat on a chair at the far side of the room, his face set in a politely neutral expression.

“I’d love one, please.”

At a glance from Auntie, Reg started to get cups down from the dresser and went into the kitchen to make the tea. While he was gone, Jem got the details of Auntie’s fall and the story of how Reg had gone down to the San to accompany Jimmy to the Boys Ward and come back the same evening. By the time Reg came back with the tea tray, he had heard that Reg had refused to go to Cornwall with the Maynards and that she felt guilty that she was not there to help Jo and Anna.

“I’ll go and dig the potatoes for dinner.” Said Reg, after he had poured the tea for them both. Auntie looked at him, sharply.

“Aren’t you having a cup?” she asked.

“I’m not thirsty. I’ll leave you to have a chat.”

Auntie looked after him as he left the room and sighed.

“I’m sorry. He sees everything in black and white.”

“If I’d known you and Reg weren’t going to Cornwall, I’d not have let our crowd go.”

“I know, but you didn’t. It’s hardly your fault that I was so clumsy. How is Madge?”

“She’s all right, except she’s tired.”


Auntie looked at him, sympathetically. “Well, she’ll get a good rest while you’re here. Perhaps that will put her right. The change of surroundings will do her good and she’ll enjoy having you around.”

“I’m going to phone Jack when I get back to The Witchens. I feel we ought to cut our holiday short and let him go back down to Cornwall.”


Auntie searched for a way of asking what Madge thought of that without sounding critical – she was reasonably sure Madge wouldn’t be happy about it.

“You must do what you think right.” She said after a few moments. “Now, tell me how Ailie is getting on – it doesn’t seem possible she’s nearly four now.”

Jem set himself to be amusing and they chatted easily for another ten minutes and then he looked at the clock.

“I’m going to have to get back soon. I’d like to talk to Reg before I go. Is it all right if I go out into the garden to see him.”

“Aye, I reckon you should, though he’s feeling bad about letting the Maynards down. I’ve tried to persuade him to go on and join them now I’m better but he won’t. Family means a lot to Reg and I’m all he’s got so he feels his place is here. I wouldn’t try and talk him into going to Cornwall if I were you, he’d misunderstand.”


Jem winced, remembering that Madge had suggested that very thing. “No, I’ll not do that. It’s my problem to sort out.”

Reg was digging furiously and the bucket of potatoes looked far too full for just Reg and his Auntie. Jem walked down the path and stood watching.

“I think that’s more than enough potatoes, Reg.” He said, when it became obvious that Reg was not going to acknowledge his presence. “It’s not a bad way of working off your frustration, though.”

Reg turned to him. “I’m not frustrated, Doctor Jem. I’m glad I can look after Auntie. She’s my family.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant your frustration with me.”


Reg flushed but he didn’t drop his eyes. “I didn’t realise you weren’t told that we hadn’t gone with the Maynards. I knew Mrs Purvis would be full of it.”

“I’m trying to put that right, Reg. I’m going back to The Witchens to phone Jack now and arrange for him to go back down to Cornwall. We’ll be going home at the weekend. The other doctors can manage for a couple of days.”


Reg’s face cleared. “With Michael so little, Auntie Jo will really have her hands full. I know the older ones will help but she’ll feel bad if they have to look after the younger ones all the time.”

“Well, don’t worry any more. It’s sorted. Do you think Auntie would like to see the children? I could bring them down tomorrow.”

“She’d love to, and so would I. I’m sorry this is spoiling your holiday as well.”

“It can’t be helped. Accidents happen.”

“This one won’t again. I’m having the yard up next week and relaying the slabs. I suppose I should have done it before, but I didn’t think.”

“Don’t strain yourself Reg, those stones must weigh a lot.”

“Joe is coming down to help. He’s due some holiday and he’s strong enough to carry fully grown sheep – paying slabs won’t worry him! When we’ve done our yard, we’re going to do his mother’s and then Miss Armitage’s as well.”

“You’ll be fit at the end of that lot.”


Reg grinned. “That’s not such a bad thing. It’ll be fun working with Joe, I don’t see enough of him.” He looked at the potato bucket. “I did get a bit carried away, didn’t I. Would you like to take some back for your dinner.”

“Please. I was supposed to be getting some from the shop.”


Reg picked up the heavy bucket as if it was empty and led the way back to the kitchen. He took an old net bag from the back of the kitchen door and loaded it with potatoes. Jem took it with thanks and a sense of relief that he was, at least partly, back in Reg’s good books.

As he walked back up the hill, he realised that he had burnt his boats by telling Reg that they were going home at the weekend. Somehow the thought of Madge’s reaction didn’t bother him at all.

*

“Two down, one to go. At least we know what we’re doing now!” Reg looked with pride at Mrs Taylor’s yard. He and Joe had lifted all the slabs in Auntie’s yard first and dug out underneath to make the surface slope very slightly away from the house. Mr Ormerod had popped in to show them how much fall they needed and advised them to dig a trench round the walls and fill it with gravel to help keep the walls dry. Joe made light work of shifting the heavy slabs and set to with a will, digging down about fifteen inches for the trench. Reg’s muscles protested the unaccustomed work and, for the first few days, he was too stiff and tired in the evenings to do anything except read a book. However, he was too competitive to give in and after five days of hard work, he was surprised to find that he was actually enjoying it. Once they had got the hang of mixing cement to the right consistency, the slabs went down again fairly quickly.

There was something satisfactory about physical labour and working with Joe brought them closer again after four years of infrequent meetings. They quickly slipped into something approaching their old relationship, though there were subtle changes. Joe had learned a lot in the intervening years and gained a confidence he hadn’t had before. In his turn, Reg had learned that he didn’t know everything and was willing to listen more and take Joe’s instruction without argument.

Mrs Taylor’s yard had taken less time and they confidently expected to finish Miss Armitage’s in three days.

*

“Not far now. Jo says we turn right by the bus stop and go up the main street. We’ll see the Church on our left. Look, there’s the bus stop, Hugh.”

“There’s the Church. That must be where we turn, not that there’s much choice. Gosh these setts are uneven.”

“I shouldn’t think they get a lot of traffic. This road turns into an unmade track just past The Witchens and it only goes to some farms on the moors. Jo’s letter says we know when we’re nearly there because we go up a really steep hill, Tedders Bank, and once we’re over the top, we’re there.”

“Good. Isn’t it odd how different it is here from Polgarth. I suppose it’s the stone.”

“It’s higher as well, so there are less trees. I wonder which is Reg’s cottage.”

“The last one on the left. Number 15, if I remember rightly - there it is. I’d better concentrate along here, darling. If something comes the other way, we’ll have to back all the way down again and I can’t see round the bends.”


Dorothy looked over to the back seat where Hilary was sleeping peacefully in her Moses basket, wedged in by suitcases. It would be good to get settled in before she woke, though they’d be lucky if they did – she was due for a feed in about half an hour. Turning to the front again, she was just in time to see the cottage come into view as they topped Tedders Bank.

“It’s lovely, right on the edge of the moors. I’m so glad we came.”

Hugh stopped the car and turned to look at Dorothy whose eyes were sparkling. “Just us for two whole weeks.” He said, taking her hand and kissing it. “Perfect.”

The door opened and Mrs Purvis appeared to welcome them.

*

Dorothy sank into the armchair and sighed. “That was great but I’m out of condition. My legs ache.”

“I’m not surprised. It must be the first long walk we’ve had for months. You know I saw someone last year walking with a baby in a special backpack. It would be good to find out where we can get one.”

“Ask John, he’s sure to know. Reg is growing up, isn’t he.”

“What makes you think that? Apart from his disgusting fitness – he’s gained muscle with all that slab laying!”

“It was more what he didn’t say. He was a bit tight lipped about the Russells and their children. Jo must have been at her wits end with all that lot. It’s odd you know, I’d not thought about it before but Madame has changed a lot.”

“In what way? I thought she was quite nice.”

“It’s difficult to put it into words. She’s lost her zest for living – when I knew her she thrived on a full house and still had time for the school. She certainly wasn’t just ‘nice’.”

“You said she was quite a bit older than Jo.”

“About twelve years, I think.”

“So she’s around forty or forty one now. I think a lot of people are still recovering from the worries of the war.”

“But she didn’t lose anyone.”

“She did. Some of her pupils are still not accounted for.”

“True, that must be a worry for her. I think it’s more that she has slipped into being Dr Jem’s wife and lost her own life.”

“I didn’t know her before so I can’t really say. As far as Reg is concerned, I suppose he is just learning that his heroes are human after all.”


*

“Dear Reg,

I was glad to get your letter and hear that Auntie is recovering. A fall like that is such a shock to the system and of course you were right to stay with her, though I’m sorry it spoiled your holiday as well. We managed fine till the weekend and then Jack came down again and joined us for the second week.

It was good of Madge to give up the second week of her holiday so he could come down. She’s seemed so tired lately and not her usual self at all. Jem is away again now – some conference in Glasgow – I don’t think he’s enjoying scooting round the country one bit.

The triplets have a new friend. Mary-Lou (yes, that is really what she is called) has moved in to Carn Beg with her mother and Grandmother. None of the children know yet but Mary-Lou will join them at the Chalet School in September. She’s a couple of years older than the triplets but a funny little puss, never having been to school before as she’s been taught at home. Mary Lou has a father but he is abroad in South America with an expedition at the moment. In fact there’s some worry as they haven’t been heard of for some time. I do hope all is well.

I was up at the San last week and saw your friends Basil and Ernest up there. Mr Copley and Ernest had been down in the West Country and picked Basil up in Plymouth on the way back. I’m really impressed the way you boys have kept up the contact with the Ward. It means a lot to the patients to see other boys and know they are not forgotten.

I’m sorry this is short but I need to go and get the children’s tea. They are over in the meadow with Anna and, in exchange for some writing time, I said I’d get tea. It was well worth it as an idea had been buzzing around in my head for a few days and now it is down on paper I can concentrate on other things again.

I’m glad you and Auntie can at least spend a few days with us at the end of the holidays. We really don’t see enough of either of you these days.

Love from Auntie Jo.”

*

“Dear Reg,

I’m sorry to be so long answering your letter but Gay and I have been away to stay with Gillian – you’ll remember I told you about her - so your letter sat waiting for me.

I’m sorry to hear about Auntie’s fall, you must have been worried out of your mind and I’m sure you were right to stay home with her, though I’m sorry you didn’t get a holiday. The Lamberts are all going down to Cambridge on Friday to stay with the Hansons for a few days. Tommy is due home tomorrow so they will be able to drive down and take the camping gear as the Hansons couldn’t possibly fit all of them in. I’m going to stay with the Harpers who are my Trustees. I’m looking forward to it as I haven’t seen them since Christmas and they are really kind people.

The good thing is that they live nearer the centre of Newcastle so, if you could get the train up one day next week, we could do an Art Gallery or a Museum, and have lunch somewhere – doesn’t that sound grown up.

I’m spending as much time as I can working like mad because, provided I can get my Higher next year instead of the year after, I may be able to leave school and start college a year early.

I’m told I stand a good chance of getting a scholarship which will give me 3 years at the Royal college of Music in London followed by 2 years in Paris at the Conservatoire. It would be great if I could because I can go at the same time as Gay and that would be great fun. It really does mean buckling down this next year though.

I’ll tell you all about it next week. I can manage any day except Thursday when we are going to see some friends of the Harpers. I do hope you can come. It seems ages since I saw you and letters just aren’t the same.

Give my love to Auntie and tell her to take better care of herself.

Love

Jacynth

PS: All the Lamberts send their love and Gay says am I sure I don’t mean to sneak off to the dodgems with you!

Author:  Lesley [ 06 Feb 2007, 21:36 ]
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Thanks Pat, that was well worth waiting for. Glad that Jem managed to square things with both Auntie and Reg - would have liked to have heard his talk with madge about cutting short their holiday. Madge definitely needs to get out to Canada and get some of her vim back!

Glad that Reg and Jacynth are keeping in touch too.

Author:  Chair [ 06 Feb 2007, 23:51 ]
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Thanks, Pat. I was sorry to miss the conversation between Jem and Madge.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 07 Feb 2007, 00:16 ]
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Thanks Pat. Jem did the right thing in taking Auntie's advice about talking to Reg, and in making his own decision about joining the Maynards. And good to see Reg coming to a deeper appreciation of Joe - yes he is at that 'black and white' stage isn't he?

I hope Reg and Jacynth manage to meet in Newcastle.

Author:  claireM [ 07 Feb 2007, 21:23 ]
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This looks really good, thanks Pat.

Author:  Nell [ 08 Feb 2007, 18:56 ]
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Thanks Pat - lovely to see more of this. Your characters are so real.

Author:  Josie [ 09 Feb 2007, 22:14 ]
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So glad both this and you are back, Pat. Not that I've really been here either!

Am I the only one feeling faintly sorry for Madge? Yes, she's being selfish, but seems like depression to me. Lovely to see Reg looking after Auntie - glad that relationship's not diminished with him being away - and to see Dorothy and Hugh and Hilary spending time together as a family. I do love them.

Looking foward to the next bit.

Author:  Squirrel [ 14 Feb 2007, 22:27 ]
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Please Pat - May we have some more soon if it is possible?

Author:  Kathy_S [ 15 Feb 2007, 02:52 ]
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Thank you, Patmac. :) I especially liked the letters.

Very realistic, the interactions between Reg and Jem.... I think Dorothy's hit the nail on the head there.

Author:  PaulineS [ 16 Aug 2007, 16:52 ]
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Just found this after reading the earlier chapters. Is there more?

Start a shout to remind PatMac about it.

Author:  Alice [ 18 Aug 2007, 10:07 ]
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I got all excited there for a minute!

Author:  KatS [ 23 Dec 2007, 17:20 ]
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AAAHHH! I read all 12 parts of this over the last three days and now it ends... I was hoping to get all the way up to the engagement. Please, please, please write lots and lots and lots more. Another couple of books' worth would be perfect :wink:

ETA: Best wishes for her recovery

Author:  Sugar [ 23 Dec 2007, 20:34 ]
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Patmac has been quite ill this year and I think she is taking a necessary break from the CBB while her health recovers fully.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 23 Dec 2007, 21:27 ]
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Thanks for that Sugar - I'll not worry her with a pm for the earlier parts after all, but go through the archives for them - quite enjoy reading the yibble anyway...it just takes a bit longer...
Hope Patmac is well again soon (((Patmac)))

Ruth

ETA I have now read all the previous parts and it is just superb - will contain myself in patience [with some difficulty :wink: ] while waiting for the next episode

*Hopes Patmac has a Happy Christmas and a Healthy 2008*

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 24 Dec 2007, 08:27 ]
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Thanks Pat. I know I'm going to be contrary to everyone but I do feel sorry for Madge. I think after all the children she cared for before the War in Tyrol and during the War and then the ill health of Josette and dealing with Jem's reaction to it all and forever being responsible for all of them when Jem would be busy at the San all the time, I can understand if it has hit her all at once. It's like she could go at that mad pace for so long before falling in a heap like she appears to have done now.

Author:  patmac [ 07 Feb 2008, 19:19 ]
Post subject: 

Well, finally, Reg is co-operating and I've time to write again. Thank you for your patience.

“Goodness! And to think we didn’t even know it was here.” Dorothy climbed out of the car and stared at the big old house.

“It wasn’t that obvious from the road till they had the entrance cleared that there was anything here except the Lodge.” Hugh came round to stand by her. “It’s amazing how bushes and trees will grow through anything. In fact, till they had the drive cleared, you couldn’t get a vehicle through.”

“It looks so strong and sturdy. I love Georgian houses.” Commented Dorothy looking with approval at the simple lines and regularity of the design.

“I suppose they couldn’t afford to have it redone to fit Victorian taste and it’s not been added to as Chaucer and Polgarth were.”

“Just as well. It sits much better in it’s surroundings. Now, do we go and knock on the front door or go round the back?”

At that moment, Mary’s head, covered in a bright cotton turban appeared at a window on the first floor and she leaned out of the opening, waving madly.

“Come round the right side of the house, there’s a door there and it’s open. I’ll be down in a tick.” With that, she disappeared.

Dorothy and Hugh picked their way carefully across the uneven flags of the courtyard where bushes had thrust up the stones and turned onto a path running along the side of the building. Half way along, there was a door standing open and, entering, they found themselves in a wide stone flagged passage running to the centre of the house. On their right were steep stairs, leading to the basement and another flight led to the upper floors with a rope tied across the bottom and a card tied to it, reading ‘UNSAFE. DO NOT USE’. Before they could take in any more, they heard a clatter ahead and Mary shot round the corner into the passage.

“Welcome to the new and somewhat dirty house.” She called as she rounded the corner. “I’m glad to see you took my advice and wore old clothes.”

“We’ve seen you arrive home covered in grime so we took the warning seriously.” Dorothy replied, laughing.

“Julian is upstairs with Mr Beilby so it falls to me to give you the tupenny tour and we’ll catch up with him later. Now where do you want to start?”

“If I’m paying tuppence, I expect a fully trained guide and I didn’t expect one with a smut on her nose.” Hugh said, trying unsuccessfully to look disdainful. “We’ll see if it is worth tuppence so I think you’d better decide the route.”

Mary stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes.

“What’s down there?” asked Dorothy, peering down the steep stone steps.

“What was the kitchens. Dark, gloomy, damp, dirty and generally awful. Apart from anything else, they must have had cold food by the time it was carried up to what we think was the dining room. We’re looking at extending one of the outbuildings on to the side of the main house to have a modern kitchen instead. We’ll need a reasonable one to provide lunches for the children. There’ll be a covered passageway connecting it to the main house. The cloakrooms and toilets will be out there too. The architect has drawn up plans and they look really good. Those stairs going up were for the servants, no prancing up the main staircase for them! Some of the steps are loose so we’re making sure no one uses them for the moment.”

“Let’s leave the basement, then.” Dorothy decided. “We’ve left Hilary with Mrs Newby and I need to get back for her next feed so we’d better concentrate on what you are going to use.”

Mary led the way along the passage into a large square hallway and turned left. They recognised the large front door which they had seen from the outside with a large fanlight above and tall, narrow windows to each side. In the manner of Georgian houses, everything was symmetrical. On each side of the hall, two large doors stood open and the staircase rose gracefully from the centre of the hall. Mary led the way into one of the rooms at the front.

“This was, we think, the drawing room. We’re guessing but it has the grandest fireplace. One thing I like about this floor is that the main rooms have windows to the front and side which gives them a good light. I suppose much of Chaucer was like this at one time.”

“John’s study still is. I wonder now if the other half was extended first. The room we use as a hall was designed as a small ballroom and I’ve always wondered why that side of the house is wider. I guess it was done in Victorian times, though all the rest was done by the school, I suppose.”

“What will this room be used for?” Dorothy had crossed to the fireplace and was running her hand along the fine stone mantelshelf. “Ah. I see what you mean about getting dirty.” She said, ruefully, as she looked at the dirt transferred to her hand.

Mary giggled. “You were warned! Of course, if you fancy a bit of wallpaper stripping, this dark red horror has to come off.” She gestured to the walls We’re still deciding which rooms to use for what down here, though originally we were going to use this for ourselves, together with the front room on the other side, but we think the whole of the ground floor will be for the school and we’ll live upstairs. It’s a bit big for us, anyway and, if the kindergarten takes off in a big way, we’d have to move upstairs. I think it will give a more professional impression and I wouldn’t want people to think it is an old fashioned Dame’s School. It will probably be the first classroom. There’s room for the children to run around and, given the climate, we can’t rely on having them let of steam outdoors.”

“Good idea. We have enough problems with the older ones in bad weather.”

Mary led the way out of the room. “The one the on other side is much the same, except that the wallpaper is green and the fireplace less grand and will make another classroom when we need it.” She led the way towards the back of the hall, where a door opened on the other side of the passage into yet another large room with similar proportions but the with French windows at the rear, standing wide open.

“We think this will double as a dining room and hall, at least to start with. If we grow, we’ll move the dining room out to one of the outbuildings. Julian wants to knock a doorway into the passage to make quicker access to the kitchens. I see his point but I do wonder if it will spoil the room.”

“I don’t think so, if it is carefully done. All houses have to be modified to suit new purposes.” Said Hugh, thoughtfully. “Was this the original dining room?”

“No. That was on the opposite side, as far away from the kitchens as you can get. There’s an enormous mahogany sideboard in there, with a marble top that Julian says is Victorian. I suppose it was too big to move out. I’ll show you.”

She led the way back into the hall, where a door was set into the back of the hall, beneath the stairs. The room opened out onto the terrace at the back and was lined with bookshelves. “This was, we think, the Vicar’s study. We’re planning to move the bookshelves upstairs for ourselves and turn it into a staff room and office”

After a quick look, they followed her into the last room which was dominated by the sideboard.

“What will you do with that? It’s hideous.”

“We’ll use the marble in the kitchen and the wood will build cupboards somewhere. It seems a shame to take it apart but it is a monstrosity as it stands and quite unsuitable for a school. We’re planning to turn one of the outbuildings into cloakrooms and toilets so some of the wood will come in for that as well as the marble top. This will be the last room down here to be used as we grow. Now, let me show you upstairs.”

They followed Mary up the broad shallow stairs, which divided into two narrower but still well proportioned flights curving round to the front of the house to the first floor where a passage ran to each side of the house. She led the way along one passage, talking over her shoulder as she did so.

“We think this side of the first floor is plenty big enough for us. It’s on the south side, which is why we chose it. I’ll start with the room at the end which we intend to use as a sitting room. We’ll have to get some plumbing over to this side for a bathroom and kitchen but Mr Beilby seems to think there will be no problem and then that will give us three bedrooms and an office for Julian as well that will double as his study.”

She led them into the end room and stood to one side as they followed her in eagerly. The room stretched from the front to back of the house, with large windows at the front and back and narrower ones at the side. A fireplace was set in the outer wall towards the front of the room. Unlike the other rooms they had entered, this was clean and a coat of pale yellow colourwash had been applied to the walls. To each side of the fireplace stood a simple Windsor chair and, to one side, a deal table held a spirit stove and small kettle with a tray holding cups and a tea caddy, together with a small can of milk set in an enamel bowl of cold water. To the other side stood another simple table with piles of papers on it.

“We decided to get one room habitable for when we’re here. It’s our retreat whenever we find yet another problem to be solved and it encourages us. Julian uses it as an office to keep all the paperwork as well.” She gestured to the paper strewn table.

Hugh walked to the back of the room where the sash window was thrust as high as it would go. “What a view! I’ve got my bearings now I can see the tops. The drive twists around so much I couldn’t work out which way the hills were.”

Dorothy and Mary came across to join him and all three leant out to see the view to the west.

“I think you are right to live up here. The view is much better than downstairs and it will be completely private.” Dorothy then turned and looked back at the length of the room which was fairly narrow. “How will you use it? With the fireplace so near the front, I suppose that is where the sofa and comfy chairs will go.”

“We have a cunning plan.” Mary ran up the room to a point about a third of the way towards the front and faced them, holding her arms out. “We’ll put a screen across and from here to the back will be the dining room. There’s room to put two chairs by the back window to sit in the summer. Bookshelves will go all along the long wall and we’ll open a door into the next room and that will be the kitchen. It’s not big but it’s a reasonable size since we won’t be eating in there. Then the bathroom will be next to that and it simplifies the plumbing.”

“That’s a great plan.” Dorothy was quick to agree. “Then you can fold the screen back if you want the whole room open.”

Mary nodded. “The furniture we’ve got already is light wood and not too big so it won’t look crowded with the screen across. I hear Julian’s fairy footsteps thudding along the passage so I’ll put the kettle on.”

“I heard that.” Julian came into the room, wearing boots, his face split with a huge grin. “Well, what do you two think?”

“It’s lovely.” Dorothy was quick to assure him. “How much work have you got to do now you’ve had a really good look at it?”

Julian pulled two kitchen stools from under the table and sat on one, gesturing to Dorothy and Hugh to take the chairs. “It could be worse. There is damp coming down the wall on the opposite end but it is just a damaged gutter, not the roof and Mr Beilby has that in hand. The Surveyor found some window frames in the attics which are rotting but Mr Beilby says they are good enough to salvage by inserting some new wood. The structure is sound and the roof and chimneys are fine. That’s the good news. We’ll need to do a lot of work outside to get the outbuildings decent enough to use for kitchens and cloakrooms. In fact they’ll need a complete gutting and rebuilding, though we can use materials from the stables for that. The biggest job is getting the water supply sorted and the plumbing. There’s a well fed from a spring farther up the hill but the undergrowth has blocked the stream and we will have to clear that and pipe it down to be sure of a clean supply. We’re looking at the costs of having a small reservoir dug out up there to make sure we have enough water as the school grows, but that’s not urgent. Then we have to put in two septic tanks, if we can get hold of any. I hear we were lucky when we did the cottages. You’ll have seen by the poles that the electricity supply is nearly here and some of the wiring is done ready for it. Once we’ve got that, we can get a pump fitted to the well.”

“What about the rest of the house?” Dorothy asked as she accepted a cup of tea from Mary.

“We’ll make everything sound and clean and leave it for now. Later, if we need it, we’ll have the other end of this floor done up for staff quarters. The attics will be used last, if ever we get to that point. Let’s face it, this is a bit of a gamble as we may not get enough children to make it work.” Mary sounded pensive.

“I’m sure you will.” Said Dorothy, encouragingly. “In the meantime, how about using some it for staff quarters for the main school? With all the new staff, they’re getting crowded.”

“It’s a long way round to the other houses.” Hugh pointed out. “Not that I want to be discouraging but it would be an issue.”

“When we came down here the first time, we followed, or rather tried to follow, an old track that once led down from near Chaucer. If you look carefully, you can see where there was once a gate leading onto the lane that skirts the copse off the main drive. We plan to open that up so vehicles can go up that way. It’s a lot shorter than coming round by the road. In fact this house is nearer Chaucer than Polgarth House is.”

“I might have known you’d have an answer, Julian.” Hugh grinned at his friend.

“Well, I knew it would be an issue – I have to get to Polgarth every day, you know. It’s a good idea, Dorothy. We couldn’t offer anything this year but, provided we can get everything done in time, we’ll be able to do something in time for next year. We’re hoping to open in September ’48 anyway so we should be able to manage it. I’ll mention the idea to Eric and John.”

“Flats for married men?” Dorothy was thinking aloud. “You’ve got all the attics as well. It might help attract staff.”

“We’ll ‘think on’t’ as the locals say.”

Dorothy looked a little embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to push my ideas. It’s your home after all.”

“That’s partly why we asked you to come and see it at this early stage.” Julian was quick to reassure her. “The more ideas we have now, the better. The last thing we want is to have to change things once the workmen have finished.”

Mary groaned. “Too true. We had just finished cleaning this room when the chimney sweep came. You wouldn’t believe the mess.”

“How are you going to get the workmen? Now they’ve started rebuilding the cities, I should imagine both workers and materials are in short supply.” Hugh accepted a refill of his cup as he spoke.

“That is not such a problem as you might think. The new building is mainly blocks of concrete flats and fairly cheap brick housing and it’s concentrated in the cities. There are a lot of skilled craftsmen who are a bit long in the tooth to change their ways and Mr Beilby knows most of them in the surrounding area. This will be a godsend to them and they’re used to using traditional materials so will be much better suited to this project.”

“Yes, Julian, but what about the materials? You’ll remember the problems we had when the cottages were being done up and this is a much bigger job.”

“We’ll use what we’ve got, largely. A few of the outbuildings will have to come down but there’s sound wood and stone for the taking. Some things won’t be easy to find but we’ll manage. Downstairs is largely a matter of stripping and painting. You saw the wallpaper downstairs and It’s hardly suitable for a school so we’ll go for pale colourwashes throughout.

Things like curtains are going to be a problem. Downstairs has shutters so can wait but we’ve got big windows up here and goodness knows where we can get the material for them. We’ll sort it.” Julian still sounded confident. [I] “I’ve put the word out and there is bound to be someone in a big house with old curtains they’d be glad to sell.”


Dorothy looked at her watch. “Goodness, look at the time. We’ll have to get back to Home Farm so I can feed Hilary. May we come again and see the rest? I’d like to look at the gardens as well.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. There’s a big overgrown walled garden with a greenhouse in it and I’m sure among the undergrowth there are fruit trees and bushes.”

Dorothy’s eyes lit up. “That sounds interesting. A walled garden will be well sheltered from the wind and could be very productive.”

They all went down the stairs and along the passageway and, as they passed the roped off stairs, Hugh stopped for a moment. “If you did turn the other end into staff accommodation, you could use they could use these stairs. With a door at the end of the corridor where it meets the upstairs hall, it would make your end private.”

“Good idea. The stairs go all the way to the attics. I wouldn’t want people trailing through the school part of the house and I would like us to be private.” Mary sounded pleased. “I knew it was a good idea to ask you two for ideas.”

Waving as the little Hillman disappeared down the uneven gravel drive, Julian put his arm round Mary. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, I was just a bit daunted at the scale of the thing.”

“And a bit worried in case they felt we were moving on and up?”

“That, too. I’d like them to be part of it. They’re our closest friends.”

“Me, too. Hugh’s my closest friend – in fact the first friend I’ve really made since I left university.”

“What about me?”

“Oh, Mary! You’re my best friend.”

Author:  keren [ 07 Feb 2008, 19:42 ]
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Wow,
thanks for this update
Hope you are feeling well now

Author:  Joan the Dwarf [ 07 Feb 2008, 19:49 ]
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IT'S BACK!!!!!

:popper: :trumpet: :trumpet: :popper:

*runs around doing the Happy Dance*

I read all the way through the archives for the first time over Christmas, and was soooo disappointed that it looked like it had stopped!

And I'm glad you're feeling better enough to post.

*boing*

Author:  Chelsea [ 07 Feb 2008, 21:15 ]
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Woo Hoo - two posts in one go!

Lovely to catch up with this again- thanks PatMac!

Author:  Pat [ 07 Feb 2008, 21:15 ]
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Thanks for the new post Pat. Glad you're feeling up to writing again; we've missed this.

Author:  Lesley [ 07 Feb 2008, 22:10 ]
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Yippee!!!!! Lovely to see this back again. Good to see you too Pat. Thanks.

Author:  M [ 07 Feb 2008, 22:21 ]
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Great to see this back and hope you are much better now.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 07 Feb 2008, 22:37 ]
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Lovely to see this back, Pat - I'm glad you are feeling better and up to writing it again.

Author:  Nell [ 07 Feb 2008, 23:31 ]
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Fantastic - I love this and am so pleased to see it abck and that you are therefore now well enough to post again. Look forward to more when you're able - I'd forgotten all about Mary and Julian and the kindergarten plan.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 08 Feb 2008, 00:34 ]
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Great to see this back - had read all through the archives and was sorry it had come to a stop - so glad you've been able to [and are now well enough to] continue it now.
Ruth

Author:  Nina [ 08 Feb 2008, 12:26 ]
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It's back! *does happy dance*
Glad you're feeling better, Pat :D

Author:  Caroline OSullivan [ 08 Feb 2008, 13:57 ]
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Hurrah! Fantastic to have Reg and Co back.
Glad your feeling well enough to start posting again

Author:  Jennie [ 08 Feb 2008, 14:46 ]
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Thanks, Pat.

Author:  Vikki [ 08 Feb 2008, 19:33 ]
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Yay!!!!!
Fantastic to have this (and you) back Pat!

Author:  claireM [ 08 Feb 2008, 21:28 ]
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Hurray, its back. Thankyou Pat I really enjoy this.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 09 Feb 2008, 03:05 ]
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Good to see you back again Pat. And to see how Mary and Julian's plans are proceeding.

Author:  PaulineS [ 09 Feb 2008, 23:40 ]
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Pat thank you for a lovely post. I am glad you are continuing to feel better and able to write again.

:D :D :D :D :D :D

Author:  Alex [ 10 Feb 2008, 00:13 ]
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Very happy to see this back. Think I might have to have a trawl through the archives and try to get my head round where we are now.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 10 Feb 2008, 06:04 ]
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Oh, yay!

So glad to see you and Village Boy. :D

Author:  Dawn [ 10 Feb 2008, 16:10 ]
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Lovely to see this back Pat - really enjoying it

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 11 Feb 2008, 14:11 ]
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It's back, it's back, it's back, it's back!!!!! ****Bounces wildly in chair, upsetting coffee and squee-ing with glee**** (and totally unable to type "Squee-ing" without getting her qs and us mixed up into the bargain!). :trumpet:

So glad you're feeling well enough to post again - I've really, really missed this series.

Author:  dackel [ 11 Feb 2008, 14:44 ]
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I'm really glad this back - I always enjoy it so much!

Thanks, Pat.

Author:  patmac [ 11 Feb 2008, 19:31 ]
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Thank you all for the welcome back :D I'm fit again now and have tested the hip through airport security - titanium doesn't set it off :wink:



“Now, you keep your tongue between your teeth and don’t go airing your views on things that don’t concern you.” Auntie stowed her knitting in the big bag on the seat beside her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not daft. Besides, it’s probably more complicated than I know.” Auntie looked at him sharply.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t really know Lady Russell and, from all we’ve heard before, she wasn’t like that years ago. Perhaps she’s really not well.”

“Wonders will never cease! I’m glad you’ve thought about it. Things are hardly ever as black and white as you youngsters seem to think.”

“I know. There’s always two sides to it. Perhaps even the Sodger has a reason for being how she is.”


Auntie laughed, despite herself. “Aye. I don’t think she can have had a happy childhood from what I’ve heard of her father. You’d better get the cases down now, we’re passing the signal box. We’d best be ready as Jo is bound to be in a hurry. I’m looking forward to this visit.”

*

“We’ve got a new friend.” Len skipped along beside Reg, clinging to his right hand as they walked along the lane. “She’s called Mary-Lou and she’s come to live at Carn Beg with her mother and her grandmother.”

“There’s never been anyone at Carn Beg before.”
Con was holding his other hand. “Except an old woman called Mrs. Pitt and she died because she was everso, neverso old.”

“How old is Mary-Lou?”
asked Reg.

“She was ten at the end of June. Do you know, she’s never been to school in her whole life.”

“Really, Margot. What did she do for lessons? By the way, if you go on walking backwards like that, you’ll take a nasty tumble.”

“Her grandmother taught her and if I don’t walk backwards, I can’t talk to you ‘cos Len and Con are holding your hands.”

“Perhaps I could grow another one just for you. We’d better have shifts so you each get a turn.”

“What’s ‘shifts’?”
Margot stopped suddenly and Reg just managed to avoid knocking her down.

“It’s what coal miners have so they can keep digging out the coal all day and all night. They work a certain number of hours and then they come up and some others go down. I suppose it’s like having teams but I think it’s really talking about the hours they work. One of the boys from Garnham went to work in the coal mines and he told me about it. They have three shifts in each day so I suppose that’s what made me think about it with there being three of you. They call it shift change when they come up or go down.”

“That would be eight hours each.”
Said Len, who was inclined to be practical about such things. “We couldn’t do that.”

“No, but we could do it in shorter shifts. Five minutes each?”

“And change hands at the same time.”

“You’ve already had more than five minutes.”
Margot was prepared to argue.

“Let’s say ten minutes.” Suggested Reg who was beginning to wonder why he had suggested the system.

“Right. Shift change.” Said Margot. Con came round and took his right hand while Margot grabbed his left hand and Len reluctantly let go and went in front.

“If you argue when there’s a change, I’ll close the coal mine and no one will hold my hand.” Reg scowled at the triplets who giggled. “Now let’s get on. We’ll be late for your tea and I promised your mother I’d deliver you back to the meadow in time for that. Step sharply, Len, and walk forwards, not backwards.”

*

“So what did you think of our Mary-Lou?” Jo handed Auntie another cup of tea and waved the pot at Reg, enquiringly.

“No thanks, but that scone is looking lonely and I could give it a good home.”

“Still got his hollow legs, I see.”
Said Jo with a grin at Auntie.

“At least he’s paying for feeding now. He’s got some meat on him at last.”

“That’s right, talk about me as if I wasn’t here.”
Reg grinned and snaked out a long arm to take, not only the scone but the last slice of bread and butter. “As for Mary-Lou, she’s a funny little thing, a right tomboy most of the time and then she comes out with something really quaint. She’s got lots of confidence though and not shy with me like lots of small girls would be.”

“She’s lived with her Gran and mother down in Cornwall and her Gran is the power in the household. Her mother is not very strong and they moved here to give her a better climate. Gran also thought she should go to school now she’s older. I think she’s outgrown what she can learn at home.”

“She’s certainly one big question mark!”
Reg sounded rueful. “Her favourite word is ‘why’ and she won’t stop till she understands. How does she come to be such a tomboy if she has been brought up like that?”

“I think that’s the other reason they moved. She made friends with some children down there last year and they ran rather wild. Their parents are both artists and live a bohemian lifestyle. One was a boy so I expect she got used to the idea that boys are real people.”
Jo took a sip of her tea and continued. “Have you heard of Miles Barras? He is their father.”

“No.”
said Auntie and Reg in unison.

“I gather he’s well known as an artist. Not that we would know, but Jem sounded impressed. He seems to mix in wider circles than we do so I suppose he’s heard of him somewhere. Anyway, he’s the children’s father. The joke is that they’re upping sticks and moving to the Hebrides in any case now so Mary-Lou would have been deprived of their influence in any case. I’m glad the Trelawneys moved here as it gives the triplets another friend in the holidays.”

She paused and looked more solemn.

“Mary-Lou’s father is with the Murray-Cameron expedition in South America. They’ve heard nothing for over two years and the concern has hit the newspapers now so it must be serious. I know the older Mrs. Trelawney is really worried as Mary-Lou’s mother is not strong and she’s afraid of her reaction if anything has gone wrong. Her Gran talked to Jack about it and he rang your Sir Julian, Reg. I gather he has lots of contacts even if he has decided to leave his old job.”

“I’ve no idea what his old job was. I know he was something important and he had an army driver during the war. After he moved back to Polgarth, she came to teach us, Miss Barbour was her name. We call her ‘old Miss Barbour’ because her younger sister has come to teach us now.”

“She’s another old school friend of mine, if you remember. I hope you didn’t call her ‘old Miss Barbour’ to her face?”

“Well, hardly! In any case, we mean old to us really, not her age. Her sister is ‘new Miss Barbour’ Old Miss Barbour is not that old, she’s younger than you, I think.”

“I’ll have to think about that to decide if I’m being insulted!”
said Jo with a grin. “Sir Julian was something in the diplomatic service, I gather but exactly what, I don’t know. Very much behind the scenes, but quite high up and I heard from Mercy – that’s your original Miss Barbour – that they went to Belsen just after it was liberated and were at lots of big conferences all over the world, even in Russia, though she’s been very discrete and I don’t know any details.”

“They’d probably get put in the Tower of London for treason if they talked about secret meetings and that. He’s jolly nice and always waves if I run past their cottage when he’s in the garden. You know he’s sort of managing the school now?”

“Yes, Mrs. Douglas told me. I think he’s like the Business Manager they have at the San now and manages the finances and all the buildings and equipment. It sounds a good idea. I know it has made a big difference to Jack with Jem being away so much.”

“Does Mary-Lou know? About her father and the worry, I mean.”

“No, Auntie. They don’t want her worried for nothing if everything is all right. I gather she would hardly remember him, if at all.”

“How awful. He must have been gone for years. I wonder how people can go and leave their families like that. It’s like the Lamberts. I know Gay and Mike miss their parents awfully sometimes.”
Reg put his empty plate on the tray and lay back in the big arm chair.

“It’s the price they pay for doing something important, I suppose. In Gay’s case, the war intervened or they would have been home for visits. It was the same with my brother, Dick and his wife. They couldn’t get home on furlough during the war and the children missed them terribly.”

“Still, it seems awful to me. What is more important than family?”

“People are very complicated, Reg.”
Jo was taking his comments seriously. “Some people are driven to achieve things by something inside them. I’m not sure what Jack would have done if I hadn’t been happy to be a doctor’s wife, with all that entails – He still gets called out at night sometimes, though at least he doesn’t regularly work through the night. Much as we love one another, I don’t think the wedding would have happened if I had balked at that. It’s the same with Madge, although her life has changed more than mine. At least Jack is still doing what he was when I met him and is at home all the time, whereas Jem has got himself sucked into a whirlwind of travel and conferences and he’s away more than he is at home.

You’re a case in point. I know Auntie won’t mind me saying it but you would have been miserable in Garnham and you’d have left eventually, despite it being your home and Auntie your only family. I’ve a feeling you would give up a lot to be a doctor, wouldn’t you?”


Reg flushed a little as he remembered that moment in Tynemouth when he had had a moment of realization that he was unlikely to see Jacynth often. There had been a moment when he had wished it was otherwise but it passed very quickly and they would follow their respective dreams and leave the rest to chance.

Jo noticed his flush and wondered what had caused it but she made no comment. “You’re going to Phoebe’s for tea tomorrow, aren’t you?” she said, instead. ”While Debby comes here for tea with Anna and Auntie.”

“Yes. I’m off up to the San in the morning and I’m having lunch on the ward with the boys. Then I’ll make my way straight there and we can have a good long chat. It seems ages since I saw her and letters aren’t quite the same.”

“I’m going into the village with Anna in the morning.”
Auntie added. ”We’ll take Steven and Charles with us. It’s the cattle market tomorrow and she says they usually have quite a few pigs so I’d like to look at them.”

“Goodness. Don’t get carried away and buy one! Can you imagine us on the train with a pig trotting along with us.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not so likely to do something so daft.”

“Don’t let Anna buy one either!”
said Jo in pretended terror. “Every time she goes to look at them, she comes back trying to persuade me that a pig would be no bother.”

“You could easily fit a sty and yard down at the bottom of the garden.”
Reg couldn’t resist teasing Jo. “Just think of all the lovely sausages you could make.”

Jo wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather not.” She suddenly burst out laughing. “Do you remember the first time Jack came to see you, Auntie? When he came to talk about the possibility of Reg going to grammar school. He came back and waxed lyrical for weeks about your pig.”

“I remember, he had me flabbergasted. I’d never talked to a doctor just like a real person before – oh, that didn’t come out quite right, did it!”


Jo laughed again. “I think we all do that. We see people in terms of their jobs or positions in life and don’t bother to look at the person.”

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 11 Feb 2008, 20:10 ]
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Thanks, Patmac - it's good to have more of this, as always. I love the way Reg thinks things out, also the way he talks to the triplets.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 11 Feb 2008, 20:26 ]
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Lovely Patmac. Thanks - I do feel a lot better about Reg as a person after this drabble of yours - but now worried about Jacynth :?

Author:  PaulineS [ 11 Feb 2008, 23:01 ]
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Thanks for such a quick update. It is lovely to learn more about Reg and Aunty

Author:  Lesley [ 11 Feb 2008, 23:14 ]
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That was lovely - Reg is so real.


Thanks Pat.

Author:  Sugar [ 12 Feb 2008, 00:23 ]
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patmac wrote:

Jo : “We see people in terms of their jobs or positions in life and don’t bother to look at the person.”


I have a group of friends who think that just because someone we know is a high powered lawyer he's God's gift and fountain of all knowledge. They don't see that he's actually quite a nasty man underneath.

Thanks for the updates Pat I have missed them. It's lovely to see Jo treating Reg as an adult.

Author:  Soph [ 12 Feb 2008, 23:34 ]
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So glad to see this back - one of my favourite stories.

Thanks

Sophie

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 15 Feb 2008, 21:44 ]
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Oops, I laughed out loud at the bit about people not seeing doctors as real people, and Husband enquired what was so funny. "Oh, just something I was reading".

Mind you, I've known people who think that ministers (of religion) are above contradiction.

Thanks, Patmac. I am so glad this is back, you wouldn't believe!

Author:  patmac [ 15 Feb 2008, 23:25 ]
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Dear Lanky,

Sorry I haven’t written before but the weeks have just flown past and I can’t believe it is only two weeks till we start back.

Thank you for your card, even if it was short it told me what you were doing. I’m sorry you didn’t get to Cornwall. You must have been really fed up about it but I can see that you couldn’t leave Auntie. Ma wrote to your Auntie when we heard she had hurt her ankle and she wrote back and told her about you and Joe doing the paving in the yards so I do know some of what you have been doing.

Ma has been coaching me at tennis and we’ve played nearly every day when it was fine. Pa doesn’t play these days as he is too busy so he has given me his racquet and my serve has come on no end but I’ll never be a match for Gay. Which leads me on nicely to their visit, Mr Douglas would be proud at me for doing such a good link. We had a great time, though we missed you and Jacynth. It was a bit of a scrum in the house but Mike and I slept out in a tent in the garden on that tiny patch of lawn. He’s fun when you get to know him and he knows an awful lot of history and had read up about Cambridge and knew a lot I didn’t know. The grown ups let us three go about a lot without them which was really fun.

We stayed mostly round Cambridge as there is lots to see here and no one has any petrol for long trips anyway. We went and saw our axe which is in a glass case with a card saying where it was found and all about it. It doesn’t say we found it but neither do any of the other things there so we weren’t too bothered. Mike was very jealous that he wasn’t there and was really interested in it all. Professor Garrod wasn’t there, she’s somewhere abroad again hunting bones but one of the younger men met us and Mike asked him so many questions that Gay and I left them and went and looked at other things. Mike told me later that he is really interested and found out what he needs at Higher Cert to do archaeology. He decided to talk to Tommy about it when they got home and see if he could do that. He’s always been interested in history but he was swithering a bit about what to do as he doesn’t want to teach and didn’t know what he could do that was history but not teaching.

Gay’s brother Tommy is great fun and it really was like having family here which was fun. Gay and I got on really well and we had one jolly good argument in private and didn’t lose our tempers, we both ended up laughing our heads off.

I’ve read The Secret of Grey Walls and it is super. I’ll bring it back with me for you to borrow. That’s if we get time for reading, of course. I still think we’ll get split up and have to be Dormitory Prefects this year and have to do other things, even if the rest of you did hoot at the idea.

I did think I’d lots more to write but I can’t think of anything at the moment, perhaps I should try and keep a diary like you do.

I expect you are as sick as I am now waiting for exam results. Half of me is sure I did fine but the other half is quaking in my boots (well, sandals actually, but that doesn’t sound right). How did you get on with Mr and Mrs Douglas? Did you take them to see Joe? Did Joe get the postcard I sent? Did you have a good day out with Jacynth? Did you get down to your Auntie Jo’s?

I’ll see you soon,

Chris

PS I just read this through and I’ve used ‘fun’ too many times. Sorry but I am not going to change it!

*

Dear Stacie,

Sorry it’s been so long but, what with the holiday and little Hilary, I’ve hardly paused for breath for weeks.

We had a great time in Garnham. The area is more like the moors round Leeds, being sandstone. Think of Ilkley Moor and multiply the height a couple of times and imagine there being no main roads – it’s really wild.

Garnham itself is hardly even a village. There’s one shop which sells mostly everyday things and one of the local farms provided milk, eggs, cheese and bacon and so on, delivered to the door, just like here. For more, you have to go eight miles or so to Garnley which has a market square with shops and businesses all round, a bit like Polgarth. Everybody knows everybody in Garnham and Mrs Purviss, the woman who takes care of the house for the Maynards, was full of gossip. She insisted on coming in for a couple of hours each day to do the rough cleaning, though I was a bit embarrassed, not being used to people doing such things for me. It did make it more of a holiday though and Hugh and I got more time together than we usually do.

We went right up on the moors with Reg Entwistle one day. You’d hardly know him now, he’s filled out so much. His Auntie fell just before the start of the holidays in their back yard and he and his shepherd friend, Joe, dug up no less than three yards at the start of the holidays and laid them again straight. After seeing the size of the stones, I’m not that surprised he put on some muscle.

One day, Hugh and Reg went up for a longer hike and I went down to have tea with his Auntie. She’s a bit forbidding at first but has a heart of gold – you know what I mean, you met her at the christening – and she doesn’t exactly wear her heart on her sleeve. The cottage is tiny and Reg must have to duck his head to get up the stairs, but it’s clean as a new pin and she makes my polishing look very poor.

They keep chickens and pigs and have one cow. Apparently, they used to have three and she made some money selling milk and cheese but I think it was becoming a bit much for her now Reg is away at school. Also, she was saying that there are so many regulations now for selling milk that it was just not worth it. I know we need the rules to help stamp out TB and so on but it does seem a shame that a whole way of life is disappearing.

I was surprised that there is a big and very old church. Apparently the village had far more people at one time and Auntie (I call her that, as do most folk from what Jo tells me) said her father was a cobbler who earned his living from that and what they grew on their ‘land’ as they call their gardens. I found out later that the whole area was once owned by the monks at Fountains Abbey and, like so much of these wild moors, the wealth in the area was wool from the sheep.

Quite a few cottages are empty as most of the youngsters left during the war and haven’t returned. Some died, of course, but others married away or just wouldn’t be able to scratch a living in the village. I don’t think many of the young people would be happy to get up at five in the morning to milk a cow and then go off to work on a farm nowadays, they want an easier life with shops around them and money in their pocket instead of living on what they can grow in the garden. I can’t blame them, really, and do wonder how many of earlier generations could have gone on like Reg to do other things given the chance. I must remember to call him Entwistle in school or he will be mortified. I was horrified when I came here and found that the boys often don’t even know one another’s Christian names, it seems so impersonal.

Still changes are happening at the school, slowly, and faster now that Julian is getting into his stride. I don’t think his job has a proper title but he is like a bursar in a college or that Business Manager they’ve appointed at the San. I won’t tell you about their new house, still called the Old Vicarage though I would have thought they will change that eventually, as I know Mary has written and will have told you all about it. Suffice to say that, despite the amount of work it needs, Mary is her usual sanguine self and Julian has got a new lease of life. You will remember how ill he seemed when he came here to live. They are up there every evening they can and men are digging out the lane from near Chaucer now so that will ease their coming and going once the dark nights come.

I’m thrilled that we won’t need to leave here when Hilary starts school. I suppose I could teach her myself for a few years but it is quite a way into the village and she wouldn’t be able to make friends with other children easily. Hugh is doing so well and (forgive my boasting about him) he is well thought of by the Heads. He is definitely among the progressives and being listened too, which is good for him and the school.

I’m looking forward to when the women teachers come back in September and I can have a good natter with them. Don’t think I’m not happy, because I am, but that will be a bonus. I think I shall miss teaching and will certainly return when Hilary goes to school, unless we have more children of course. We want at least one more.

Before I forget, we have a new French Mistress starting – and she is actually French! Her name is Michelle Benoit and Ed Clark asked me to sit in on her interview. I thought that was rather nice of him as his French is extremely good but she is to add Italian as an option and he is not so fluent in that language. She’s a little older than me and, before you start trying to identify her, she is definitely not a Chalet School ex-pupil! I did check after the coincidences that brought you and the Barbour girls here, not to mention the connection we have with the San. I think she will do very well. Her English has very little trace of an accent and she has a good air of authority which will stand her in good stead. She has been an interpreter during the war after escaping from France and wants to settle in England now. I don’t know any more of her story. It’s not the sort of thing one wants to bring up, there are too many unhappy tales of the war years and I wouldn’t want to stir up sad memories for her.

I will have to stop soon as I’m nearly out of ink and need to ask Hugh to bring me some home from the school. Eric and John are good about such things, saying it evens out for the extra time Hugh puts in. Although it is officially holiday time, he seems to pop up most days for one thing or another.

Just to say, finally, that I heard from Jo and Michael sounds a delightful baby and she is her usual breezy self. When will we see you again? I don’t fancy travelling so far with a young baby, even if we could get the petrol (which we can’t of course) and the train journey is complicated as we’d have to go into London and change stations to get to Oxford.

Sorry these last few lines are faint, I just hope you can read them. Hugh sends his love and so do I.

Dorothy

*

Dear Entwistle

I’m sending this to you to take back to school for the others as I’ve really only got time to write once so you will have to share.

I started at English Electric at the beginning of August in Lancashire and spent two weeks just sort of finding out about things before I was packed off to college. I didn’t know that it is not just one company and at Warton they mainly make the frames for aeroplanes. It’s where the Halifax bomber was built and is a real airfield so I’ve seen airplanes taking off and landing.

There’s lots of different things I can specialise in later and they are all over the country so I could end up almost anywhere, but first I have to get a grounding in the basics. There’s a lot to learn about the parts (they call them components) for electrical equipment and some basic skills as well. I’m glad I learned to use a soldering iron with Mr. Oliver, one boy burnt his finger quite badly the first day. The chaps are very mixed. I’m definitely in the minority in having been to boarding school and some of them are older than me because they’ve been in the RAF and learnt quite a bit there.

There’s five of us started at college together and we will be here for two years but work at the factory in the holidays. Two are quite a bit older than me and were in the RAF. Mr Douglas might be interested in that and I’m feeling very much younger than them. The other two came straight from school, like me and have never been away from home before. They seem older than me in some ways and have been out with girls and are keen on the latest music. I’m learning new things in that way as well.

The older ones don’t seem that bothered by the fact that we’re about five or six years younger than them. They tend to go to the pub in the evenings and we three stay in or meet at one another’s digs. College is mostly maths at the moment but much more into engineering and electrical stuff. You’ll remember what a duffer I was in maths at Chaucer! I’m jolly glad the staff made me hoe in and work at it. This is interesting as I can see a reason for it. We’re learning practical stuff as well and I’ve started building a wireless. I’ve even wound my own coil although it took me three attempts to get it right.

The locals just call the town Hull rather than the full name. You know it is right down the Humber from Geography lessons but what I hadn’t realised is just how flat the place is. Not a hill in sight. The name Hull comes from a small river that goes into the Humber. No fly fishing here, but on the other side of the river is Grimsby and the sea fishing – with trawlers and not for the likes of me. People do go out on the river in small boats and fish but they catch the fish for a living. The river is really muddy and is tidal, leaving lots of the edges as wide levels of mud when the tide goes out. We’re some miles in from the sea but the tide goes a long way up the river. The river Hull is small and muddy and goes through the town into the Humber. It’s pretty well just mud at low tide.

The town itself is just one great big bomb site. We were so lucky in Polgarth to miss that sort of thing. You remember how scared we were when that plane crashed near the school? Well, we had it easy. The people I am staying with tell me that the city burned from end to end. It seems impossible to be true but around 5,000 houses were destroyed during the war. They say that 90% of the city was damaged. Believe me, they are not exaggerating. There are still enormous areas, bigger than Polgarth village which are just flattened and it is going to take years to rebuild.

They are starting to say that Hull, after London, was the worst hit city in England. Sorry, Dixon, but it seems it was hit worse than Plymouth. It is a main port and facing Europe so I can understand that. It was an important target and a nearer one as well!

The family I am staying with (they say ‘have digs with’) are really nice. Their accent is different from the village people in Polgarth but not so that I can’t understand it. Fortunately after the years at school, my accent is not so broad Scots and they can understand me, but I will never pass as a local.

There’s rugby played here and the college has a team so I’m going to try for that. The town team is Hull Kingston Rovers and is really good so I’m hoping to get to matches.

I wouldn’t change my choice but I will miss you chaps when I know you are back at school and I shall wonder how you did in School Cert, so be sure to let me know. Even a postcard would do if you are all busy and my address here is at the top of the letter. They say that, if I haven’t passed, I can retake it next year but I’d hate that. Have you heard from Fourakis?

I’ve learned from the blokes who were in the RAF that there is no need to travel by train or bus from here. There are lorries leaving the docks every day for almost anywhere and the drivers will give blokes a lift if you stand by the road and put your thumb up. They call it hitch-hiking and they used to do it during the war to get home on leave. One of them went home to Liverpool last weekend and was back in college on Monday, mind you he went to sleep at lunch time. They say the drivers are glad of the company and it would certainly save money. Who knows, I might end up at the school one day to see you all.

I’m going to stop there as I’ve promised to meet up with the other two at the fish and chip shop and then we are going to go back to one bloke’s digs to listen to his records.

Write soon and give my best wishes to everyone.

Scottie.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 15 Feb 2008, 23:40 ]
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That was lovely, Patmac. Nice to catch up on all the different news.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 15 Feb 2008, 23:40 ]
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What a great collection of letters - and a lovely way of bringing us up to date with where everyone is at this point - and where they are all going. I really enjoyed reading them all.

I well remember most of Hull as being flatter than flat (I went to Hull University) *and* the small trickle which was usually the River Hull. My other lasting memory is of the railway lines crisscrossing all the main roads, and the number of level crossings there were as a result - we have a very similar situation here in this city!

Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  Lesley [ 16 Feb 2008, 00:19 ]
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Thanks Pat - lovely way of catching up. :lol:

Author:  PaulineS [ 16 Feb 2008, 13:02 ]
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Thanks Pat good to catch up with so many of the folk.

Author:  Nell [ 16 Feb 2008, 18:57 ]
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Lovely letters and a fab way to learn all the news! Thank you Pat.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 17 Feb 2008, 01:32 ]
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I did enjoy catching up with all of this - the details of the three different lives were so interesting.

Thank you Pat

Author:  Elbee [ 18 Feb 2008, 22:35 ]
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I've just spent the last few days reading this right from part 1. Wow, fantastic, Pat! I loved reading about Polgarth, both the school and the village, and was very much reminded of one of my favourite books, To Serve Them All My Days - The Village Boy is just as epic! Swallows and Amazons is another favourite so I loved the Lakes holiday. Looking forward to more now, at last I can follow it and know what is going on!

Author:  patmac [ 19 Feb 2008, 15:12 ]
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Elbee wrote:
was very much reminded of one of my favourite books, To Serve Them All My Days - The Village Boy is just as epic! Swallows and Amazons is another favourite so I loved the Lakes holiday. Looking forward to more now, at last I can follow it and know what is going on!


I think Polgarth is influenced quite strongly by Delderfield's book, which is also one of my favourites. :wink: It is also influenced by some real progressive schools of the era and accounts by some pupils who went to them. Swallows and Amazons is also one of my all time favourites - in fact, an awful lot of the story is about things that interest me - pure self indulgence, really!


“The postman won’t come any quicker for you going to the door every five minutes.”

“I know but I can’t settle till I know.”
Reg had been up at half past five after tossing and turning most of the night and he had felt his breakfast would choke him. “I really do need to pass.”

“You’ll have passed and, if you haven’t, you can take them again. You know Doctor Jack thought you would need an extra year.”


Reg flung himself down on the sofa. “All right. I’ll try and stay calm but I feel a bit sick with worry and it’s no use you telling me it will be all right.”

“I’m going upstairs to change the beds. At least I’ll be doing something useful while we wait.”


Reg grinned, a little shamefacedly. “Sorry, I’ve been like a bear with a sore head the past few days, haven’t I.”

“You have a bit but I know it’s important to you so I understand. Try and read a book or something to take your mind off waiting.”


As she went up the stairs, Reg picked up Racundra’s First Cruise which he had borrowed from the School Library for the holidays. He had been so enthralled by the details of the voyages that he had been forced to ration himself to reading only a few pages a day to make it last, but now it held no charm for him. After what seemed like an hour, he looked up at the clock and realised it had only advanced ten minutes. He went back to the book only to realise that he had not taken in a word.

Auntie, meanwhile had stripped her bed and gone to the old chest where she kept her linen to get out fresh sheets but, when she got there, her mind went blank and she couldn’t remember what she was doing. “I’m as daft as the boy.” She muttered and went to the open window to look down the street for the postman. He was three doors down and she watched as he came nearer. There was a buff, official looking, envelope in his hand and she was frozen for a moment with dread at Reg’s reaction if he hadn’t passed. Then she went onto the landing and picking up the dirty sheets, set off down the stairs as if she was just taking them down to the kitchen.

As she reached the door at the foot of the stairs, she heard the rattle of the letter box and Reg’s book land on the floor.

“You open it.” She said as he held out the envelope.

“It’s addressed to you.” He replied, his hand trembling a little. She took the envelope and sitting down in her usual chair, she reached for her glasses. Slowly, she slit the envelope along the top. Even at this moment, she did not consider wasting a good envelope which could be reused.

Auntie looked up at Reg. “If you haven’t passed, it doesn’t mean the end, you know. I’ll not have you give up at the first disappointment.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll not give up but, please don’t keep me waiting.”


She took the flimsy piece of paper from the envelope and then looked at it and, smiling, held it out to him. “I don’t quite understand how well you’ve done but you’ve certainly passed.”

He took the paper and read it, his eyes widening as he took in the grades. Slowly a smile spread across his face. “They’re much better than I hoped for. It was maths I was most worried about. I’ve passed! I’ve passed!”

*

The sea sparkled in the distance and the heather was warm as he stretched out, leaning on his elbows. Tomorrow he would be back at school for a new School Year. It wouldn’t be the same, he knew. Fourakis and MacDonald had gone and that would leave a big gap. The remaining four Inseparables would almost certainly be dormitory prefects and so would not share a room as they had since moving up to Polgarth. Assuming the others had passed (and they must, since he had) they would be going in different directions. They would still have some classes together but fewer than before. There might well be other responsibilities for supervising the younger boys which would eat into their free time and he was dimly aware that they were bound to grow apart as they began to concentrate in earnest on careers and life after school.

He thought back over the holidays. There was the worry at the beginning when he saw Auntie in pain and somehow frailer and older than he was used to thinking of her. That was the first time he had really asserted himself with her, refusing to go to Cornwall and insisting on relaying the yards.

Working with Joe had been enjoyable, though hard at first. It was strange how different they were and still good friends. He grinned as he recalled how the heavy labour had built his muscles. Auntie had cried out in horror when one of his old shirts split across the back when he was cleaning out the pigs. That was another occasion when he had won an argument and he was now clad in second hand corduroy trousers with leather patches on the knees and a collarless shirt, all bought cheaply in the market in Garnley. He thought his description of Sir Julian wearing similar clothes for gardening had shocked Auntie, though he hadn’t told her that the Governor looked less disreputable since he married Miss Collins and she had mended his old jacket.

That led on to thinking about Mr and Mrs Douglas’s visit. They had walked right to the top of the moor overlooking Garnham on one day and he had taken a turn at carrying Hilary. He hadn’t said anything because it would have sounded soft but it was rather nice to feel the warmth of the baby against his body and she had been awake part of the time, quite content to be in his arms.

Mr Douglas had walked with him another day while Mrs Douglas spent the afternoon with Auntie and he squirmed a little as he recalled the conversation as they sat high on the moors eating their packed tea.

He had been telling Mr Douglas about Auntie’s fall and how he had refused to go to Cornwall. He hadn’t meant to say anything about the Russells but somehow it slipped out and he found himself pouring out the tale of how he had felt about the way Auntie Jo seemed to get lumbered with the children in the holidays.

Mr Douglas had been quiet for a minute or two and then had said, quietly. “We’ve no right to judge anyone for their faults because we’ve no idea of how we would behave unless we’ve been there. Have you ever done anything that makes you ashamed when you think back on it? Anything that could have made people think less of you? If not, you are deceiving yourself because we’ve all got things like that in our past.”

He had reddened as the picture of George Clark curled up on the setts at his feet came to his mind. He recalled the murderous rage he had felt and how he would have kicked his head if Lily hadn’t hurtled in front of him. Once started down this track, his mind went to other, less serious things he had done, or not done, which he would not want anyone to know about.

Mr Douglas was not looking at him and he could not see his expression as he was sitting with his scarred side to Reg. After a few minutes he turned and looked at Reg and there was no condemnation in his gaze.

“We all do things we wish we could undo. It may be a failure to tell someone how much we really think of them until it is too late. It may be through an unkind word or not giving help when it is needed.

It can happen for any number of reasons. Temper, concentrating on something we consider more important, illness – or just that we are not strong enough to cope. I’ve got things I’ve done, and not done, in the past that I would not want to share with anyone, even my wife. Some of them are trivial, some more serious. I suppose that’s why the Catholics set so much store by Confession.”


Despite himself, Reg had looked at him in query.

“I’m no expert on the subject but, as I understand it, it’s supposed to wipe the slate clean – once you’ve done a penance. I used to think the penance was a bit trivial, just a few prayers rather than putting things right but I know now that you can’t always put things right. Often it’s too late or could even make things worse to try and sort things out. The key though, seems to be the intention to ‘sin no more’ – meaning that you try not to do the same things again.”

“I see that but what do you do when you see something that doesn’t seem fair?”

“Try and look at it all round. In this instance, and this is strictly between us, don’t forget I’ve met your Auntie Jo and my wife knew her when she was just a girl. I can just see her saying, breezily ‘That’s fine, it won’t be a problem.’ I wouldn’t be that surprised if the whole thing was her idea, in fact. She can be very forceful you know.”


Reg had grinned. “You’re right there. She likes being with lots of people as well, she never seems to need to be alone and I don’t think she quite understands why some people do.”

“She enjoys being in the middle of things and she’s a born organiser as well so she probably gets a lot of satisfaction in being needed. Lady Russell may not have the energy at the moment to argue with her and just takes her assurances at face value.”

“Then why doesn’t Dr Jem deal with it?”

“It could be for lots of reasons. First, he may be afraid of making things worse. If he pressures his wife, she may fall apart completely. Then again, he’s under pressure in his work. He’s in great demand at conferences and so on and still carries a lot of the responsibility for the San. Perhaps he’s got other problems we don’t know about or it could just be the general weariness that seems to hang over so many people after the war.”

“Because things like rationing are still affecting them?”

“Partly that but he probably knows more of what is going on the wider world than we do – not everything gets into the newspapers, you know. Anyway, we should be moving on if we’re to get down to the farm and see your friend, Joe. All I’m really saying is try not to judge anyone. I know it’s difficult when you see things you think are wrong but just try to think round all sides of the situation.”

“In fact, ‘sin no more’ or whatever the wording is.”


Mr Douglas had stood up and stretched. “Don’t set your sights too high. We all get it wrong sometimes so don’t beat yourself up over it. Try not to judge.”

They had said no more on the subject but Reg had thought about that conversation at intervals through the holiday.

He lay down in the heather and closed his eyes. The hum of bees and the slight rustling of the heather in the breeze were the only sounds. Then he heard it. High above a lark was singing. He remembered Jac’s words as they parted in Hunstanton.

“I hate goodbyes!” she had said. “I like the people I care about to stay close.”

There had been a lark singing above them in Tynemouth, too just before they left to get the bus back to Newcastle, when he had kissed her softly on the lips, his arms round her, and she had seemed to melt into his arms, her lips parted and seeking his and his arms had tightened round her young vibrant body.

He had felt strange, his body stirring in a way he had not expected. Slightly frightened by the intensity of their feelings, they had pulled apart, flushed and both feeling a little shy.

There had been silence for a few minutes, neither willing to speak first. Then they had both looked up in the same instant, hearing the lark.

“The last time we looked up at a lark, you said you hated goodbyes.” Reg said, still looking up.

“I still do, Reg, but I’m not ready for this – feeling this way. I’m sorry. I like you too much to just play around with you and lead you on.”

“I’m not ready either and I feel the same about you. You’ve got five years of music college ahead of you and it will be even longer till I’m a doctor. I’d hate to spoil our friendship.”

“I know and music is everything to me.”
She gave a shaky little laugh. “Ruth must have seen this coming. She talked to Gay and me about boys just after that holiday in Norfolk and – you know – the feelings you get when you kiss. She said it is wonderful and exciting but to take it slowly. She told us that you can get carried away and let someone down by promising to love them forever when you are too young. I didn’t really understand then.”

“Let’s go slow then. We’re both still at school and we can’t meet often. I’ll never forget today though and I’ll write. We’ll meet when we can.”


Remembering the feeling of her lips against his and the experience of her in his arms, Reg felt happy and sad at the same time. He knew that Jacynth would always put her music first and he would hate to come in the way of that but, if he was to really achieve his ambition, he would have to concentrate on his own studies and she would be far away. He remembered how Auntie Jo had said that, if she had not been willing to be a doctor’s wife, she and Uncle Jack would not have married. Perhaps it would work out but it seemed a long road.

A cloud passed over the sun, chilling the early September day and the lark suddenly stopped singing. Reg stood up, brushing the heather from the back of his shirt and looked again at the sea. Then he turned into the sun and set off home.

Author:  Lesley [ 19 Feb 2008, 15:39 ]
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Pat, that was very thoughtful - glad Reg has passed and can understand his feelings toward Madge. Good thing that Hugh was there to talk to him about it.

Thank you.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 19 Feb 2008, 18:05 ]
Post subject: 

Lots to think about there, Patmac. Thank you.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 19 Feb 2008, 18:42 ]
Post subject: 

This was indeed a very thoughtful section - it's always good to watch how Reg is gradually maturing in so many ways throughout this whole saga. I'm glad he passed his exams, too.

Thanks, Patmac

Author:  patmac [ 22 Feb 2008, 21:32 ]
Post subject: 

The first day of term was always frantic and this was no exception. There were new boys in every form right up to the Lower Fifth and even two boys in the Lower Sixth who were hoping to enter the Diplomatic Service and needed extra language coaching.

Apart from exchanging greetings and congratulations on all having passed their School Certificates, the four remaining inseparables had no chance to chat till after supper when they met at the old tree trunk up the hill.

“I’m absolutely worn out.” Dixon, the last to arrive, threw himself down onto the grass and closed his eyes. ”We’ve got some right little asses in the Upper Fourth. Were we ever such little twerps?”

“I expect so, or at least some of us when we were in the Lower Fourth. Remember the first day you came, Entwistle?”
Hanson sat up.

“Only too well. You threw a pillow at me.”

“Well, not exactly at you. You just moved into the space where the pillow was going to land. It was a demonstration of physics or something.”


Reg chuckled at the memory. “I wondered what I’d got into. I was nervous enough already without that.”

“I suppose Mr Douglas was just as nervous. It was his first day as well, though you’d never have known it by the way he dealt with us. Funny that, I’d never have thought of the staff being nervous when I was younger.”

“If you’re about to say you must be getting old, just don’t, Hanson. You’re still younger than the rest of us. And don’t pull faces at me like that. If it freezes, you’ll be stuck like it.”
Despite his protests, Dixon couldn’t help laughing at the younger boy.

“According to Len, the oldest triplet, he’ll be older than us when he’s a hundred. I’m afraid logic may not be her strong point.”

“Huh? How did she work that out?”
Hanson was distracted from his attempts at gurning.

“It’s a while back now but she wanted to know when she’d be the same age as me and Auntie Jo was trying to explain that I’d be getting older as well as she grew up but, once we were grown up, it wouldn’t matter because once you’re grown up ages don’t seem such a big gap as when you’re small.

Somehow she got it into her head that she’d eventually overtake me. I gather it was very early in the morning and so I rather wonder if Auntie Jo was as clear as she might have been.”

“If you don’t think too hard about the idea and, sort of creep up on it sideways, there is a sort of logic to it.”

“And I suppose you’re going to explain it to us, Hanson.”
Copley said, trying not to laugh at the younger boy.

“Not if you’re too young to understand.” Hanson grinned evilly. “Perhaps I’ve overtaken you already. Time is tricky stuff. Ma left a book lying around in the hols and I started reading it. There was a bit by a geezer called Poincaré where he asked if a second today is equal to a second tomorrow.”

“And is it?”

“No one knows and Ma made my eyes cross when she tried to explain it to me but it was weird. I kept feeling that I understood it but it slipped away and I didn’t really. In the end I asked her to stop and we went for a game of tennis instead.”

“Do you often read that sort of thing?”
Dixon sounded genuinely interested.

Hanson shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“You know Hanson! He’d read the cornflakes packet if he couldn’t find a book handy.”
Reg was laughing again. “He was trying to work out a knitting pattern in Auntie’s Woman’s Weekly last summer.”

“Well, it was all k1, sl1 and p1 and it was like a code. Reg’s Auntie reads it like we read a good yarn. Hey, what’s so funny now?”

“Yarn – knitting yarn. You made a pun.”

“So I did. Anyway, I’d finished ‘The Secret of Grey Walls’ so I was looking for something else to read and this book was lying around.”

“Is it any good?”
Copley asked. “I hope so because I’ve asked for it for my birthday.”

“Don’t you dare, Hanson. I can read your mind.”
Dixon wagged his finger under Hanson’s nose. ”You know Copley meant the Malcolm Saville, not that book of your mum’s.”

“You’re no fun any more. Perhaps I don’t want to be as old as you.”
Hanson leapt to his feet. “So now we’re back to the beginning of the conversation so what’s the time someone? I forgot to wind my watch this morning.”

“Thus proving that understanding time depends on winding up your watch. It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“Very funny! I’d better go then. I’ve got to check my dorm is quiet. In fact, I’m so tired I might well go to bed myself. The little horrors will be bound to wake up early.”

“I wouldn’t mind going to bed myself.”
Copley stood up and stretched. “It’s daft really, just when we can stay up later, I want an early night.”

“You must be getting old.”
Hanson shot off down the hill, pursued by Copley and the other two followed more sedately.

*

“Well that’s the first day over.” Hugh dumped a pile of papers on the hall table and entered the kitchen where Dorothy was feeding Hilary with a small piece of softened rusk. Recognising her father, she waved her arms about and drooled messily down her bib.

“There’s tea in the pot. Sit down while I try and get this into her, she’s more interested in you than her food. I know Nurse Fletcher said I should try her with a small piece as she is waking up in the night but she does make a right mess and I’m not sure how much actually goes in.”

“It certainly looks like more than a whole rusk on her bib and your apron. Still, perhaps that’s an illusion. She slept through last night anyway so something is working.”

“I suppose it can only get easier. It’s at times like this I wish Mum was nearer.”

“Well, ask her to come and stay for a few days.”

“That’s not the answer. I’m always going to find new things I don’t know and I can’t have her here all the time. Besides, I’d rather work it out for myself.”

“Did the day seem long?”

“Not really. I quite enjoyed getting things done and I spent the afternoon in the garden. Hilary was content in her pram, even when she was awake. The plums are about ripe now so I’ll pick those tomorrow. Ivy said I could have the ones at the lodge in exchange for making their jam and wine this year. I’ve more time than they have now and we’ve more room as well. They’ll provide sugar, of course. Perhaps I could do Mary’s too. They’re as busy as they can be with the new house now.”

“How about going down to the Lodge tomorrow evening to pick them. You’ll see at least some of the others then and can have a chat with them.”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not.”
Hugh got up and went to look at the timetable stuck to the wall near the back door. “I’m not on duty after three tomorrow. I’ll have a pile of marking to do anyway as I set the Upper Fourth their annual ‘What I did in my holidays’ essay.”

Dorothy laughed. “Well in that case, rather than sit and listen to you growling about the wild spelling, I’ll go down after tea. It will be fun to see them again.”

“Seriously, Dorothy, you need to keep in touch with the school and the staff if you are going to go back to teaching eventually. If you don’t, it will seem like starting all over again. Besides, we are a bit isolated up here and you’ll need the company.”

“That’s true. It’s not that I’m not enjoying being at home with Hilary but I can see how the days could drag if I don’t get out and about. It was rather nice pottering about on my own today, though. I think she’s had about as much as I can get into her at the moment so I’ll clean her up so you can hold her for a few minutes till I’m ready for her main feed. Hold on a minute while I get this bib off her.”

“Thank you for that, I’m still in my suit. That’s something I ought to do, change the minute I come home. Clothes coupons only go so far and I can hardly go to work with rusk on my jacket, even if it is mostly covered by my gown.”

“Good idea. Put a tea towel on your knee before you take her and then tell me about your day.”


*

“If you could do our plums, I’d be forever grateful.” Mary had popped in for a cup of tea on her free afternoon. “I’ve been saving sugar and I’ve a load of jars and bottles all ready but I couldn’t really see me finding time, what with school and the new house. I’m having enough trouble keeping up with the washing and ironing.”

“It’s no problem to add yours to the rest. I’m going to pick the Lodge plums tonight so, if I pick yours tomorrow, I’ll be all set. How’s the new house coming along?”

“The Electricity was connected yesterday so we’ve lights downstairs. The fittings are going in upstairs as we speak. Oh, and the pipes for the upstairs plumbing, at least for our bathroom and kitchen are being put in before they relay the floorboards from fitting the lights for downstairs, if you see what I mean. I’m just glad we’ve got Mr Beilby supervising all the work or the electrician would have put the floorboards straight down again. We’re having a couple of joists strengthened so we can have a Rayburn stove in the kitchen. Julian has bought a load of guttering from an old farmhouse up the hill so we can get that done. It seemed weird to me that so many of the houses around here have the same gutters and down pipes but they were all part of the Polgarth Estate so I suppose it makes sense that they did them all the same. He got a load of slates at the same time which will help with the extensions. A lot of the slates are what the roofer calls ‘sick’ and can’t be reused.”

“A Rayburn sounds very modern, no more black leading for you! Are you still on schedule?”

“According to Julian’s big chart, we’re a week ahead.”

“That sounds good.”

“We need to be because there’s bound to be some hold ups in the winter because of the weather. We’re having trouble getting paint for the outside as well, unless we opt for mustard yellow or lime green which for some reason, no one seems to want.”


Dorothy giggled. “Very tasteful, I’m sure.”

“We’ll get some in the end, I suppose, but Julian wants the outside done before the winter. Before I forget, I’ve had a letter from Stacie and I brought it for you to read.”
She fished in her skirt pocket and drew out a fat envelope. “She may not write often but when she does she makes up for it. She’s coming up at half term.”

“Great. Hilary’s coming up as well. If you fish through the pile on the mantelpiece, you can find her letter and take it to read later. Meanwhile, I hear little Hilary stirring so you can have a cuddle with her before you go.”


Dorothy went out of the open back door to fetch the baby who had been sleeping outside in her pram and Mary went to the mantelpiece to find the letter.

“Is she sleeping better?” asked Mary as she took Hilary onto her lap. “She’s visibly growing, isn’t she.”

“She’s nearly four months old now and yes, the rusk with her teatime feed seems to have done the trick, though it’s still a messy business getting it into her. More tea? I think the pot will run to another one each.”


*

“Hello, Miss Benoit. How are you settling in?”

“Very well, thank you but won’t you call me Michelle, please.”

“In that case, I’m Dorothy. I’ve come to pick the plums to make jam and wine. Is anyone else in?”

“Is that Dorothy’s dulcet tones I hear?”
Anne came out into the hall. “Have you come to pick the plums?”

“Hello, Anne. Is there any help available?”

“Michelle and I will help you start and Ivy should be in any minute. The others will trickle in over the next hour except for Christine who has prep and supper duty tonight. Will you be able to stay for a while.”

“I’d love to. I fed Hilary before I left and she usually goes around five hours between that feed and the next. It’s amazing what a difference that exrea hour makes.”

“So doting Daddy is on duty then?”

“I hope she sleeps, he’s got a pile of marking to do tonight.”

“Poor lad, my heart bleeds for him. Still, I’ll be in the same situation tomorrow.”


Laughing, the three women went round the house and Anne collected the tall steps from the outhouse. Dorothy surveyed the laden tree. “Goodness, there’s more than I thought. There weren’t as many last year. Our tree is a lot smaller, though it did well.”

“I hear you are picking Mary’s as well.”
Anne set up the steps and climbed to the top. “Pass up the first basket, I think I can balance it on the top step.”

They set to with a will, chatting all the while and Dorothy was impressed with Michelle’s command of English. She wasn’t scared of asking when some of the slang was unfamiliar and Dorothy was able to translate some of it to a French equivalent. Gradually the other women joined them and the garden rang with laughter and chatter.

“I thought you learned French at school, Dorothy.” Anne paused to retie her headscarf. “You seem to have picked up a lot of French slang.”

“With a variety of nationalities, we all picked up one another’s slang – strictly out of hearing of the staff of course.”

“Of course!”
said Anne. “I should imagine the last thing they would want would be for you all to pick up even more slang. It’s bad enough keeping up with it in one language.”

“On the other hand, it’s useful for me to know when they are speaking slang in English.”
Said Michelle. “I might well pass it by if I did not know it and, if I am to be at home here, I need to learn to speak more colloquially.”

“The main trouble with the boys is the lack of variety in adjectives.”
Complained Ivy who had joined them soon after they started. Dorothy and Anne groaned.

“Hugh’s pet hate is ‘marvellous’. They use it for everything.

“We’ve got a variation at the moment, in speech at least. I’ve heard merveilleux at least three times today – and with no regard to gender either.”


They all laughed at Ivy’s expression. “Set them to checking in Roget every time they overuse a word.” Dorothy advised. “That’s what Miss Annersley used to do with us, didn’t she Faith?”

Faith brought another full basket to add to the others. “Too true, though I’d forgotten that trick till you mentioned it. That’ll larn ‘em.”

“Larn ‘em?”
Michelle was puzzled and Faith looked contrite.

“Sorry, it’s more a dialect way of saying teach them. We’d pronounce it ‘learn them’. A lot of our dialects use grammar in an odd way. I really shouldn’t use phrases like that.”

“We have the same in France, except that some people do not even speak French as their first language.”

“Really? Why is that?”
Anne called down, still picking as she spoke.

“Changes in the borders over the years. Down in the Pyrenees they speak Catalan which is spoken in part of Spain. Catalan comes from Occitan or Langue d’oc which is spoken in part of Italy as well.

Then there is Flemish spoken near the border with Belgium. As for Alsace-Lorraine, the people there have been shuttled to and fro between France and Germany since the Thirty Years War so their official language has changed as well. At least you don’t have that problem over here.”

“When was the Thirty Years War?”
asked Anne.

“1618 to 1648. Roughly speaking, it started as Catholics against Lutherans and spread into a political struggle. Hapsburgs, Holy Roman Empire, Spain, the Germanies. It even sucked in Sweden and Denmark.” Ivy replied, promptly.

“That’s a long time ago, poor Alsace-Lorraine. Going back to the original subject, I thought the French language was controlled very strictly.”

“Ah, you mean l’Académie française. Richelieu had a lot to do with establishing it in 1635. He, by the way, brought France into the thirty years war on the protestant side, despite being a Roman Catholic Cardinal.”
Michelle laughed at the look of horror on Anne’s face.

“No wonder history is a confusing subject. I suppose he put politics before his religion.”

“I think it’s more a matter of putting power before everything. He was a politician after all.”
Dorothy said with a grimace.”

Faith shrugged. “No different from today, then. Let’s get back to language, politics makes my blood boil. I think that dialects probably exist in all languages. I remember the villagers near our school in Tyrol spoke something I could hardly recognise as German.”

“That is because it is next door to Switzerland so their language is probably nearer Schweizer Deutch than anything.”

“Are the blackberries anywhere near ready yet?”
called Jane from round the other side of the tree. “If we make apple and blackberry jam, it doesn’t take that much sugar to make it set.”

“Only down in the valley, I’ve seen families from the village picking them. I’ve been keeping an eye on them round here and they’re not ready up here yet.”
Dorothy stood back from the tree. “You know, we don’t have enough baskets and I’m going to have to get transport anyway to get these home. I hate to waste good fruit but we’ve got more than we’ll be able to stretch the sugar for.”

“We’ll leave them in the outhouse and Mr Newby can pick them up in the morning when he delivers the milk and then bring them up to you on the cart when he delivers to you. Donate the spares to Mrs Newby as a thank you.”
Suggested Jane. “She can put them out for the boys at teatime. There’s some fruit boxes in the shed waiting to be chopped for kindling, I’ll fetch them.”

*

“Did you have a good evening?” Hugh was holding Hilary, who was trying to chew one of his fingers.

“Yes, thanks. It was good to see them all again and we picked all the plums. I’m afraid there were more than I expected so I’ve left them in the outhouse and called at the farm on the way back to ask Mr Newby to bring them up for us. They don’t have a plum tree you know, so Mrs Newby will have a couple of boxes and then let us have apples in exchange. She’s sending up a spare jam pan as well – you know, one of those really big ones – and says she doesn’t need it returning. I’m a bit relieved because there are a lot more than I expected and it would have taken ages to make it in batches.”

“You could have made extra wine.”
Hugh suggested as she took Hilary and sat down in her usual chair.

“Huh! While I’m feeding her, I can’t have wine. It was all I could do to decline a glass tonight! In any case I’m going to have to be sparing with the sugar as it is. It’s a good job plum jam sets well.”

“How long will you go on feeding her? I never thought to ask that.”

“According to Mum and Nurse Fletcher, around six months but it will depend on how she does. She’s early starting with solids, even if it is only a couple of teaspoons and I may go on feeding her longer. Why do you ask?”

“Partly curiosity as I’ve never been in this position before and partly because I wondered how long it would be before you could have a drink of wine again. At least by the time this year’s is ready to drink you should be able to have a glass.”


Dorothy giggled. “You make me sound like a drunkard. Mrs Newby was telling me that mothers used to put gin into the baby’s bottle with milk so they would sleep better. I need hardly say that is not recommended nowadays.”

“I should think not! Though I suppose some people do.”

“Probably.”

Author:  Lesley [ 22 Feb 2008, 21:55 ]
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That was lovely Pat - such an excellent introduction to a new school year. Great to see the boys growing up - and how true, when they get to the age where they can stay up late, they're too tired to take advantage. Nice to see Dorothy keeping in contact with her friends.


Thank you.

Author:  PaulineS [ 22 Feb 2008, 22:12 ]
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Pat thanks for the updates The problems of lack of sugar for jam is something EBD never mentioned but it was a major problem as you describe here, Thanks

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 22 Feb 2008, 23:27 ]
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Lovely update, Patmac - thank you. It's good to see the new school year starting, and Dorothy having the chance to catch up with her friends, too. So far as the shortage of sugar is concerned, I think I remember a comment in one of the books to the effect that Matey was always 'saving' sugar from the school rations so she could make the jams which she then donated to the school sales - sorry, I can't remember which book it's in, but I think it's probably while the school was either on St. Briavels or in Carnbach.

Author:  Sugar [ 22 Feb 2008, 23:51 ]
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Thanks Pat, that was a lovely catchup and start of term for everyone

Author:  Kathy_S [ 24 Feb 2008, 06:26 ]
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All caught up, and it's wonderful as usual.

Thank you, Pat.:D

Author:  keren [ 24 Feb 2008, 09:37 ]
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patmac wrote:
Elbee wrote:
was very much reminded of one of my favourite books, To Serve Them All My Days - The Village Boy is just as epic! Swallows and Amazons is another favourite so I loved the Lakes holiday. Looking forward to more now, at last I can follow it and know what is going on!


I think Polgarth is influenced quite strongly by Delderfield's book, which is also one of my favourites. :wink: It is also influenced by some real progressive schools of the era and accounts by some pupils who went to them. Swallows and Amazons is also one of my all time favourites - in fact, an awful lot of the story is about things that interest me - pure self indulgence, really!


[i] “.


I have just found the first part of this (our library is erratic and really like a SHB) and enjoyed reading this book very much.
Your atmosphere of writing is simliar to his

Author:  patmac [ 28 Feb 2008, 08:40 ]
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“Wait for me!”

Ivy turned as she heard the call and waited as Mary caught up with her.

“I didn’t realise you were up at Polgarth, are you teaching up there now? I really haven’t caught up on everyone despite the fact that term is a week old.”

“For my sins.”
Ivy responded as the set off down the footpath. “Now Toby Hendon has been demobbed, I’m taking Upper IV for History this year so he can work his way back in more gently with Lower IV. It works out all right as I take two forms in the morning and one in the late afternoon and as I can see Ed and the other staff in the department at lunch time. I bring some work to do in between so it’s just one day up there.”

“I wondered why you were wearing a rucksack.”

“It’s the only efficient way to carry things. Did you have good hols?”


Mary laughed. “Not much in the way of hols. Julian has really got the bit between his teeth at the Old Vicarage and we’ve been down there most of the time. You must come down and see what we’re doing. Anyway, since you had a real holiday, tell me about it. Where did you get to?”

“It was really good and we all got a chance to improve our French a lot. The shortages over there in Paris are worse than in England but, once we got into the south it was a lot better. I suppose it was like here really, the farms provide the basics and other people grow vegetables and fruit and keep a few animals or chickens. Of course, they grow lovely things like apricots and oranges, not to mention grapes.”

“Where did you go in the south.”

“We based ourselves in Avignon, it was a long journey by train but well worth it. We didn’t want to stay in the north, there’s too much damage still and it seems almost macabre to gawk at people’s ruined homes. Besides that, we wanted the sun. We managed to rent bikes from some local people and got around all the area.”

“You’re certainly brown as a berry. What is Avignon like? All I know is the children’s song. Is there really a bridge?”

“Yes, and French children sing the song, too. The bridge is broken at one end so you can’t get across the river but you can walk on it and we took our lunch out there one day, it gives a gorgeous view of the town. There was a French family and the children were dancing round, singing the song. Of course, Nancy and I joined in and the parents laughed and started singing as well. We learned some new verses and I got Madame Morel to write the characters down for me, my French wasn’t up to spelling vigneron, though we recognised that it must be a winemaker.

She was amused that our children sing it and, when we found out that she is a teacher and so is her husband, we all got on very well.”

“How did you manage with your French?”


Ivy laughed. “Lots of this.” She gesticulated wildly. “We had the English – French dictionary with us and, once people found out that we were really trying to learn, they were very helpful. What Dorothy said about picking up the language more easily when you hear it all round you is really true and we’re all determined to persevere. The weird thing is that a lot of their English had an American accent – the Americans liberated that part of France so I suppose that is why.”

They paused as the path reached the drive to Chaucer.

“There’s lots more to tell you. You’ll never believe that Charles and I went to see a production of Richard II – in French, no less. That seemed weird and I’m not sure I was really taking in the French because I know it so well in English. It was in a big courtyard in the Palace of the Popes, I should say Le Palais des Papes, I suppose – you know the Popes lived there in the 14th century?”

“Not really. I assumed they’d always been in Rome but I don’t remember much about that period anyway. We’ll have to get together with the four of you and hear it all. I hope you took lots of snaps.”

“Don’t worry, we all took cameras and tried to make sure we didn’t all snap the same things so there are lots of pictures. We split up quite a bit as well – it turned out we had different interests and Charles and I revelled in the history while Nancy and Jack explored more of the countryside.”

“It’s good to have someone who shares your interests.”
Mary remarked, and glanced at Ivy, who blushed.

*

“Are you there?” Mary shouted up the stairs as she shed her jacket.

“No. I’m a burglar. I kidnapped Julian and rode his bicycle home.”

“Idiot!”
laughed Mary as she ran up the stairs. “I just thought you might be outside or in the bathroom.”

Julian met her on the landing and kissed her soundly.

“What was that for?” Mary asked, leaning back in his arms to catch her breath.

“I always kiss you when we get in.” Julian protested in mock indignation.

“Not like that, you don’t! You’ve had good news, I can tell.”

“Perhaps I’d better amend my technique if you can read me so well. I could kiss you like that every evening then you wouldn’t know if I had good news.”

“I wouldn’t object.”
Mary snuggled back into his embrace and lifted her face to his.

“Oh, Mary, I do love you.” He murmured some minutes later.

“I love you too. Now tell me your news.”

“What news?”

“I’ll tickle you! Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“No, no, anything but tickling! I give in. We’ve got septic tanks.”

“Wonderful!”
Mary grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bedroom. “Tell me all about it while I change into my old clothes.”

“We haven’t actually got them here yet but I’ve sent a cheque and they’ve promised them to us. Tom found them in Richmond, you know what a scrounger he is, contacts everywhere. A builder had them in his yard. They were ordered for a Rectory up that way which was going to be modernised before the war. Everything was put on hold for the duration and then the Rector died and the new Rector’s wife balked at the idea of living in it. Tom tells me that part of it is more or less derelict. The new Rector could afford to by house for himself so it is up for sale. It sounds rather sad as the old Rector had his granddaughter living with him and she’s now in the care of a solicitor.”

“Poor little soul. What about her parents?”

“Her mother is long dead and her father is abroad somewhere. He’s a cartographer so I presume he’s on some expedition. All I know is that he left when the little girl was three or so and hasn’t been home since.”

“What has happened to her?”

“She’s gone off to boarding school.”

“Julian! Don’t look so sad, she may be happy there.”

“I know, but she must feel she’s been deserted.”


Mary came round the bed and held him for a moment.

“It’s all right, I just hate to hear of children packed off like that. She’d been taught at home and had never been to school so it must have been a shock to her, poor little mite. I’ll go and put the kettle on while you brush your hair.”

As soon as she had given her hair a cursory brushing Mary rushed down the stairs, eager to hear more.

“I’m ready for that, thanks.” Mary took the mug Julian handed her and slid onto the bench behind the kitchen table. “Now tell me all.”

“The septic tanks are going to be delivered next week so we can get on with installing them. No more earth closets, thank goodness!”


Mary raised her mug in salute. “I’ll drink to that! Is there anything else at the builder’s that might be of use?”

“Mr Beilby is going up to look round. There’s some piping for the drainage at least – not enough for us but it’s a start. I’ve asked him to look at the house as well.”

“You’re not thinking of buying it, are you?”

“It depends. The builder told Tom it is in a really bad way and the previous occupants didn’t use all of it and it has got damp and rot in at least one wing. If it is really that bad, it won’t sell easily and we might get a good price on it and demolish it for the materials.”

“There’d be more than we’d need and what would you do with the land?”


Julian shrugged. “We’re struggling for materials to do the extensions at the school and there is that row of cottages just beyond Polgarth that could be rebuilt for staff cottages as we grow. Staff accommodation is going to be a problem if people keep on getting married as you seem to think they will. We could attract married staff as well if we offer proper houses. We can either try and sell the land for building or hang on to it for a year or two. House prices are going up, you know. It should sell for more later and Tom tells me the solicitor is keen to sell and invest the money for the child. She’ll need schooling for some years and something to start her off when she’s grown up.”

“What about her father. Surely he’ll come home now she is alone.”

“I would think so, if he can. Some of these expeditions are in really wild places and he may not get news of what’s happened for a few years. You remember Jack asked me to see if I could get any news of the Murray-Cameron expedition and no one knew anything.”

“You’ve done it again!”

“What?”
Julian looked startled.

“If we buy it and use the materials, not only do we solve some short term problems but we’ve got yet another investment that will make money in the long run.”

Julian laughed and grabbed her hand. “Will you agree if we put whatever profit we make from it towards a scholarship for Polgarth? Don’t forget, it’s a gamble and we might even lose money if we can’t sell the land later.”

“Huh! Fat chance of that – we seem to be doomed to get richer. Yes, go ahead and do that, if Mr Beilby thinks it is feasible. Oh, and find out the name of the little girl. She’ll never know but we can name the scholarship after her when the time comes.”

“I’d like that. In fact, I think I’ll go over there with him and, if it makes sense to do it, I’ll set things in motion. I’d only have to go again later and we can save petrol that way.”

“Good thinking. I saw Ivy on the way down. They had a lovely holiday and went all the way to Avignon and sang on the bridge! I’ll have to look it up in the atlas because I get confused about the south of France.”

“It’s north and a bit west of Marseilles, not much more than 50 miles, I believe. I’ve never been there and I’d like to someday. There are a lot of Roman remains around, including a really big aqueduct not far away that took water to Nimes. It’s also where they make Cote de Rhone wine.”

“Trust you to know the local wine. Perhaps we will get there someday. I gather Ivy and Charles paired up somewhat. They went to the theatre together and she blushed a bit when she told me.”

“Matchmaking?”

“Just commenting.”

“Time will tell. It’s another reason to get those cottages habitable.”

Author:  M [ 28 Feb 2008, 09:21 ]
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Another great update. Like the way you are working in Verity Ann's story as well.

Author:  Elbee [ 28 Feb 2008, 10:51 ]
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I love the way you create yet another link with the CS, through Verity-Ann! Also, referring back to a previous post, I'm pleased to see that Reg and his friends enjoy reading Malcolm Saville's Lone Pine books - my second favourite after the CS books! And this post made me think of Geoffrey Trease's Black Banner Abroad with the references to Avignon!

Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 28 Feb 2008, 15:48 ]
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Thanks Patmac.
I have happy memories of a holiday in Avignon :D
Also enjoyed the way you brought in Verity-Ann.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 28 Feb 2008, 15:56 ]
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I do like the way you are working in little 'snippets' which show us how people really did have to 'scrounge' materials where and when they could in that period after World War II ended. Julian has to be one of the most forward thinking and enterprising people around - and I really like the way his thoughts are all connected with how he can help others. Also like the way Verity Ann's story is coming in here - as Elbee noted, yet another link to the Chalet School.

Thanks, Patmac

Author:  Lesley [ 28 Feb 2008, 21:03 ]
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Also love the links to the CS. Mary and Julian are good together - aren't they?
:lol:

Thanks Pat.

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 28 Feb 2008, 22:24 ]
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Thank you, Patmac; have just caught up on the last three episodes.

Author:  patmac [ 01 Mar 2008, 12:12 ]
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I'd forgotten Black Banner Abroad when I sent the four to Avignon - even though I can see it on the bookcase from my desk! We went last spring so that is why I was able to include it. Richard II really was produced there on 4th September 1947 in Une Semaine d’Art Dramatique en Avignon which became the Avignon Arts Festival which is still running each year.

“Another year well under way.” John greeted Eric as they met on the path between their respective houses. “Which way shall we walk?”

“We’d best not go too far. The nights are drawing in and I’ve still got a pile of letters to get through tonight.”

“There’s always a pile of letters.”
Said John, easily.

“True. Let’s just walk as far as the river. I think the weather is going to change and we’ll be stuck in the house soon enough.”

They set off across the fields, striding along together in easy companionship. It had become a habit over the last year to walk together a couple of evenings a week, when the weather allowed, catching up with one another’s news and chatting about ideas and plans.

“How is the term looking so far up the hill?” John paused to relight his pipe.

“I’d hate to tempt fate by saying it’s going really well but so far, so good. There are the usual niggles of course. We’ve got a rambunctious gang in Upper Fourth and one of them managed to put a ball through a window in their Common Room yesterday. They know they aren’t allowed to play with balls in there but you know what they are like at that age.”

“I can guess which group you mean. I trust you dealt with them faithfully?”

“Not me. The staff keep me in reserve when it comes to discipline, you know – the ultimate threat. Keith Morris has them this year and he did his ‘more in sorrow than in anger’ act on them. I gather they felt like worms at the end of it.”


John chuckled. “I’ll bet. No one does that better than Keith.”

“Too true, it works like a charm with threat of dire consequences if anything similar happens again. I should imagine their classmates will keep them in line for a little while with the threat of wholesale detention and missing rambles hanging over them. Not to mention losing pocket money for three weeks to pay for the window.”

“Till their spirits get too high again, of course. I wonder what they would think if they knew I did the same at their age.”

“I’ll bet you got more than a Keith special.”
Eric grinned as he climbed over a stile.

“Didn’t I just, but the beatings were frequent enough that one didn’t really stand out. I’m glad that’s gone now, all it did for me was make me crafty. Hang on, my pipe’s gone out again. Will you be able to find glass for the new window? They’re quite big panes.”

“Your pipe is out more than it is alight, I don’t know why you bother. Julian reckons there’s a piece big enough in the store. It’s amazing what he’s got tucked away. He went in every cluttered old place we had and ferreted away and even found a load of chamber pots from before we had indoor toilets. He says he’ll sell them to an Antique Dealer. I’ll bet he could tell you how many we had and what they will fetch as well! I suspect there’s some squirrel blood in his family somewhere.”

“From what Mary said about his family home, you may be right. To hear her tell, it was full to overflowing. We’re having to hold off on some of our new building. Where we need new materials, we can’t get them for love or money. Everything is going to rebuilding homes. They’re having trouble finding septic tanks for the Old Vicarage, perhaps Mary had better hang on to some of the chamber pots,”

“I suppose we can’t complain when there are families who are still homeless. They’ve built hundreds of thousands of these prefabricated houses and bungalows for the interim but I don’t think they’re really keeping up with it. I read something in the paper the other day about the plans for some of the city centres, They seem to be planning a radical rethink.”

“H’mm. I saw that too.”
Said John, dubiously. “I see what they’re getting at with the idea of lots of green spaces and wide streets. Some of the poorer areas of our cities are really cramped with not a blade of grass to be seen,”

“Why so doubtful then? These new blocks of flats will have bathrooms and indoor toilets, not to mention modern kitchens. I should think people will jump at them.”

“It’s going to take too long. Some of these new estates are still at the early planning stage and won’t be built until the 1950s, if then. Besides, they are going to insist on people moving out of their homes to clear whole areas and I can’t see them being happy with that. Can you imagine what some of the people in the village would say if you told them their houses are slums that are not fit to live in and they’ve got to leave them?”

“Put that way, I see what you mean. I suppose it’s going to depend largely on how they present the idea to the people who have to move.”
Eric paused to watch the stream bubbling over the rocks.

“ Let’s sit on the old tree trunk for a few minutes. I always like it down here.”

“You just want an excuse to relight your pipe.”
Said Eric, though he sat down quite happily. “Anyway, to get back to the school. I just wish we could get on with more of the building. Julian has suggested turning some of the spare space at the Old Vicarage into staff quarters next year. It was Dorothy’s idea and it would let us take on more staff but it’s no use if we can’t accommodate more boys.”

“She’s sharp, that girl and she’s got a lot of common sense. Once they get the lane opened up, it won’t be a problem to come and go between all three houses. What we need is a few more ideas to see how we get round the problem of enough classes to offer everything we want to. We need more brains on it – goodness knows we’ve got enough of those among the staff now. Most people are very keen on the expansion except a few of the older ones.”

“I can understand them. Most people want to wind down to retirement, present company excepted, of course.” He said with a mock bow to John. “Perhaps we’ll have a staff evening in a couple of weeks. It’s important to keep them informed. Some of Julian’s cellar would help loosen a few brain cells, I should think. That will give Julian time to investigate that old Rectory near Richmond, it would make quite a difference if we can get building materials.

The Prefects are pretty strong this year and we’ve some promising lads in Lower VI. We’d need someone to volunteer to stay at Chaucer but I should think the Prefects could supervise supper and bedtime so long as we have an adult in the house. What do you think, John?”

“Good idea. Are the ‘promising lads’ the inseparables, or what is left of them? I’ve been meaning to ask how they’re getting on.”


Eric nodded. “Yes, and a few others as well. As for the Inseparables, they’re doing fine. Hanson, despite his age and size is proving a good Dormitory Prefect. He seems to be one step ahead of them and nips problems in the bud very quickly. Copley has grown up quite a bit in the holidays, though he still doesn’t know what he wants to do when he leaves. I think the holidays spent with his father has brought him on. Dixon has settled on his career. He’s got most of the mad crowd in the Upper Fourth in his dormitory and he’s held them in check so far.”

“The Church?”

“Yes, how did you guess?”

“He spent some time with Mr Wilson last term, if you remember, and I wondered then.”

“I didn’t add two and two with that one, even though I saw them together. It means he has his sights set on the subjects he needs and that has really helped his focus. At least the other three will keep him from taking himself too seriously while he’s so young. Entwistle, you’d hardly recognise. He’s finally getting some meat on his bones and I think he’ll be quite a big man when he’s done growing. He did some maturing this summer as well. His Auntie hurt her foot and he took over for the first time and asserted himself, I believe. I got that from Hugh who didn’t go into details but he hinted that there was more to it than that.”

“That’s good. He’s quite young in a lot of ways and he needs to be a bit more assertive before he goes to University.”

“I don’t know him as well as you. That’s the problem with the bigger numbers in the upper school. He goes to Hugh for guidance, they seem to have an affinity.”

“They started the same day and both come from poorer backgrounds. We’re going to need more people like Hugh as we change and get boys who are from similar backgrounds. They will relate to him better than some of the staff. He’s young as well and has their respect for his war service. I’m glad he came, he’s been quite a catalyst. We’d better get on back, it will be dark soon.”
He pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket.

“Goodness, is that the time? They’ll be sending out search parties soon.”

Author:  abbeybufo [ 01 Mar 2008, 12:19 ]
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Lovely to see John and Eric discussing things so thoroughly. Thanks Patmac.

Author:  Lesley [ 01 Mar 2008, 14:13 ]
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What an interesting conversation - and so strange to see all the problems with housing from the 'other side' as it were.

My parents were in a basement flat for their first 15 months of marriage, when they moved (with a three month old baby - me!) it was due to 'slum clearance' - that was in 1962. At the time Mum says they were very grateful - they were moving to a two-bedroomed maisonette with all mod-cons. Unfortunately, 10 years later, they were very happy to get out - the estate, like so many, had deteriorated so much. Before the building was eventually demolished, some 15 years after that, it had become a high rise estate for 'problem' families, drug dealers and social services cases. Such a pity after its brave start.


Thanks Pat.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 01 Mar 2008, 17:48 ]
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Thanks, Patmac - such a far-reaching and interesting discussion there. And good to hear that the four 'inseparables' who are left are already making their mark as sixth formers.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 01 Mar 2008, 20:03 ]
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Thank you, Pat. Good to hear an update on the Inseparables, though in many ways the faculty & connections have become even more "real," and not just because of the splendid period detail.

Verity-Ann was a surprise bonus. :)

Author:  Nell [ 01 Mar 2008, 20:18 ]
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Thank you Pat - great to have more of this and see the relationships between the staff.

Author:  PaulineS [ 02 Mar 2008, 16:02 ]
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Thanks Patmac. My parents lived with my grandmother, aunt and two lodgers and one young child (me) in a three storey terace house. They applied for council housing but an great aunt offered a back-to back-house when my brother was born. Both houses are not part of the student housing in Leeds. Neither house had an inside toilet, although grans had abath room in one of the attics. Houses without their own toilets have been knocked down as slums since.

The communities they included were broken up and a lot of the stability was lost as well.

Author:  Sugar [ 03 Mar 2008, 07:57 ]
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patmac wrote:
I read something in the paper the other day about the plans for some of the city centres, They seem to be planning a radical rethink.”


Radical it was indeed. Concrete city centre, saying that they are planning another redevelopment cos it looks shabby after 50 odd years but it looks no better in the planning.

Thanks Pat, its really interesting to see the developments in the school.

Author:  patmac [ 03 Mar 2008, 18:36 ]
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Thank you for the kind comments. It's the period when the 'new towns' were planned as well - Harlow, Basildon and so on - a brave new world, they thought at the time.

“I’m sick of the rain. I don’t think it’s stopped for a week.”

“You’re just fed up because you can’t go running.”

“I know that, Copley. I’m beginning to feel all scratchy.”

“Ah, there you are.”
Rawson, this year’s Head Boy, stuck his head round the door of the Common Room. “I thought I’d find you four in here. All the staff are having a meeting on Saturday evening and we’re dealing with Chaucer as well as up here so Doctor Cartwright said we could co-opt you four and a few others. Now we’re in our stride, so to speak, we need to appoint some deputies for various jobs as well. I’ll put a proper notice on the board but you could warn Daley and Hopkins we’re having a meeting tomorrow evening and we’ll want you all there.”

Hanson went across to the big timetable on the notice board. “Daley’s at piano practice and Hopkins is having extra Maths at the moment, but we’ll see them later.”

“Thanks. I’m on my way to see the Head now so the notice will be up by tea time.”
With that, he disappeared and they heard his footsteps echo rapidly down the corridor.

*

“Now every one is here, we’ll start. There’s a lot to go through and not too much time. Farley, you’re doing the minutes, aren’t you?”

A tall ginger haired boy waved a note pad in acknowledgement.

“Does everyone know the Lower VI boys?”

All the Prefects nodded.

“Right. The first thing on the agenda is to sort who is doing what on Saturday evening. All we’re doing is keeping them to their usual routine so it’s only a matter of keeping order and supervising. They’ll be on their honour not to play up so, apart from a few firebrands, we shouldn’t have any problems.

I’ll be in overall charge up here and Atkins, as he’s my Deputy, will take Chaucer.”
Rawson glanced at his notes. “Mrs Carter is going to be at Chaucer for the evening and Mrs Douglas is going to be there as well to keep her company so you’ll have staff backup in an emergency. I’ve not a clue what the meeting is about but I suppose they will get all the news from their husbands afterwards.

As it’s a heaven sent opportunity, I want Davis to concentrate on Upper IVB.”
He held up his hand as Dixon stirred in his seat.

“You’re doing really well with them in the dorm, Dixon, but they need pulling up sharply at this stage or they’ll end up in serious trouble before long and Davis is the chap to do it.”

Davis, who was over six feet and had the build of a keen rugby player, grinned. “They’ll appreciate you all the more when they get you back.”

Dixon looked across at Davis. “There’s no nastiness in them, just high spirits but if you can tame them a bit, I’ll be most pleased.”

“There’s nearly always one little gang like that in each year. If you two can get together between now and Saturday so Davis knows who to watch out for, that would help.”


Davis and Dixon nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’ve done a list of who is to go where and you can look at it afterwards. Next, you boys from Lower VI will be formally made Deputy Prefects after half term. Dr Cartwright has approved our choices, and you’ll be shared out according to your talents and interests as far as we can. In advance, I’d like you to think about it and come and see me if you have any queries. It would be a good idea to get stuck in straight away so you can see what’s involved.

Hanson, Farley has asked for you to help with the Library. Daley, we seem to be short of Musicians among the Prefects this year so you will be helping Shephard with Music. It’s no sinecure given the amount of music this place goes in for.”


There was a general laugh for Rawson had, as he freely proclaimed, not a musical bone in his body.

“Davis and Hopper have asked for Hopkins to help with Games. I’m just sorry we lost Fourakis as we need someone else for Tennis next year and he was the best player we’ve had for years.”

“If we have to take on tennis as well, we’ll lose some matches at cricket next year. There’s no way we can do both and do it well.”
Davis explained. “So far as I know, none of you are that hot at tennis either.”

“Gibson is the best tennis player in our year.”
Hanson ventured. “I played a lot this summer but I just don’t have the reach to be really good.”

“We’ll have to think about that, We’ll try Gibson out. Perhaps one of the new boys will be a tennis player.”

“Aziz has played a lot of cricket. He played for his last school and he seems keen on it.”

“That’s that new Indian boy?”


Dixon shook his head. “You’ve got to be a bit careful of that now. He used to live in India but his family went to Pakistan when they were split up at Partition a couple of months ago. His family are Christian but he says that Aziz is a Muslim name so they were afraid to stay in India. Then they sent all the children to England as they’ve got family over here and his parents hope to follow. I think they were afraid of trouble. It was pretty awful with literally millions of people moving between one country and the other. He says there were a lot of people killed on both sides.”

“Yet another place in the world to worry about.”
Atkins shook his head. “I just hope they’ve finished with National Service by the time I leave University. We’ve had enough of war.”

“We’ve heard from Fourakis and it sounds as if there is still trouble in Greece.”
Reg looked disturbed.

Rawson rapped on the table. “We’re getting sidetracked and we haven’t too much time, so sort out the international situation in your own time, please – and good luck with it. I think it’s a bit beyond our remit as prefects.

We’ll certainly try out Aziz for cricket but we could do with someone for tennis as well, so get those little grey cells working, mes amies. Spring will be here all too soon.”


There was a general chuckle at the reference to Hercule Poirot who was a favourite character with most of the boys.

“Dixon, you’ve proved you can handle the younger boys and we’d like you to help Roberts with the Juniors. That’s not just Upper IV but the Heads want more of a link with Chaucer so I think you’ll be rushing up and down the hill a fair bit. You don’t have to worry about the little ones, just Lower IV. It will stand the prefects in good stead next year if you know who to watch out for and what they’re like.”

Dixon looked pleased. “I can do that.”

“I haven’t forgotten you, Entwistle. Some of what we need you to do, you’ve been doing already. The Kite Club has grown a lot bigger than anyone would have guessed and we need someone to help Walmsley with hobbies, you’re the first person to come up with a new hobby in years and I know you’re good at most crafts, but the most important thing we’d like you to take on is the work we’re doing at the San where young Canning was. We’ve talked about it and we think it’s important that we keep that up. You have good contacts down there, I believe?”

“Yes. It’s an extension of the Kite Club anyway and I’d like to do that.”

“Good. Officially, I’ll take responsibility as Head Boy and I’m hoping to visit the San at Christmas as we’re staying with an aunt not far away. I believe you can give me details of who to contact and what to expect?” Reg nodded. “I don’t honestly think I can fit in all the work it needs to keep it moving along. We’ve more boys this year than we’ve had since I came here and I am supposed to be working towards exams! We’ll set up a regular meeting so you can bounce ideas off me and keep me up to date.”


Reg nodded again, pleased.

“Copley, Wild has asked for you to help with the Staff. It’s not that onerous, more a matter of keeping them informed about things and so on but . . .” he paused and looked at Wild.

“We end up doing most of the work for School events, like Sports Day and the Carol Service – things like that. Everyone helps at the time but we liase with the staff and go to some of their planning meetings. You’d be surprised how far ahead the planning starts. Really, it overlaps with everyone so we have to be organised and I hear you are good at that.”

Copley looked pleased. “If you think I can do it, I’ll be happy to help.”

Rawson looked at his watch. “We’re going to have to wrap it up. Everyone on the Polgarth list for Saturday evening, we’ll meet after supper tomorrow. Atkins will tell the chaps on the Chaucer list when they’ll meet. Prefects, organise meetings with your new subs. If anyone wants the last biscuits, feel free but remember not to eat them in the corridors. I’d hate to give any of you order marks.”

Laughing, they broke up into twos and threes as further meetings were arranged.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 03 Mar 2008, 18:48 ]
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Lovely Patmac - nice to see the similarities and differences between a CS prefects meeting and here. Good to see they're aware of the international situation as well - 'fraid they'll still all end up on National Service, though - that didn't end until about 1962 :(

Author:  Lesley [ 03 Mar 2008, 19:59 ]
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The last date for young men to be admitted for National Service was 1st October 1957. I know this because my Dad - born 8th October 1939 - missed it by 8 days! He was rather annoyed actually - he was a very good footballer and cricketer and was going to join the RAF - they had arranged it so that he would spend his entire time playing sport! :lol:

He could have joined anyway but his job wouldn't have been kept open for him as it wasn't mandatory.


Anyway - thatnks Pat - great seeing the similarities and differences to the CS.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 03 Mar 2008, 20:07 ]
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You're right [of course :wink: ] Lesley. Was mixing up dates :oops: of when my uncle was killed - in 1959, having deferred National Service to take up an apprenticeship - with the date of the Aden conflict where a friend's uncle was sent - who must have been a regular.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 03 Mar 2008, 20:09 ]
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Some great insights there, and it's good to see that the Head Boy is able to 'read' his prefects and the new sixth formers so well and place them accordingly. I didn't see anyone dissatisfied with their new assignments.

Thanks, Patmac

Author:  M [ 03 Mar 2008, 21:08 ]
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Definately some similarities with a CS prefects meeting and the idea of having sub prefects. Polgarth boys are rather more aware of the outside world than their contemporaries at the CS though but I guess that might have been the way things were in 1947 with girls being protected a bit from the outside world.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 03 Mar 2008, 21:24 ]
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M wrote:
Polgarth boys are rather more aware of the outside world than their contemporaries at the CS though but I guess that might have been the way things were in 1947 with girls being protected a bit from the outside world.


And I guess EBD was trying not to tie her books too much to current events, so that her readers wouldn't think them 'dated', whereas of course we are pleased that Patmac does include the topical references :lol:

Author:  PaulineS [ 03 Mar 2008, 22:24 ]
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Lovely to see their awareness of how current affairs was affecting their friends and new boys.

God to see how the gang can help as subs and their continued growth and development.

Thanks Patmac

Author:  Sugar [ 04 Mar 2008, 05:50 ]
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Can understand why EBD didn't tie it to R/l events - we tear her to shreds enough as it is!! And other books like HP manage without them too. Saying that I do think its nice having the story woven with R/L aspects.

Thanks Patmac - I do love this series

Author:  Lesley [ 04 Mar 2008, 07:40 ]
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abbeybufo wrote:
You're right [of course :wink: ] Lesley. Was mixing up dates :oops: of when my uncle was killed - in 1959, having deferred National Service to take up an apprenticeship - with the date of the Aden conflict where a friend's uncle was sent - who must have been a regular.


No 'of course' about it, Ruth! :lol: It just happens I know that one - probably a good thing that Dad didn't have to do National Service - considering that the following summer - when still 18, he met Mum...anyone that says a holiday romance doesn't last should meet my parents - married 47 years so far! :lol:

Author:  leahbelle [ 04 Mar 2008, 16:15 ]
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Thanks, patmac. :lol:

Author:  Kathy_S [ 08 Mar 2008, 00:13 ]
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Rawson makes a good impression as Head Boy :). Good way of showing the impact of current events, as well.

Thank you, Pat.

Author:  patmac [ 11 Mar 2008, 21:01 ]
Post subject: 

The buzz of conversation rose as more of the staff entered the big staff room at Polgarth where Eric had elected to hold the meeting.

“I think that’s everyone.” Julian murmured as Robert Allen slipped in the door and mouthed a silent apology for his late arrival.

Eric waited while Julian poured a glass of wine and handed it to the latecomer with a smile, then stood up and went to stand beside the fireplace, his glass in his hand.

“Thank you all for coming. I know it’s been difficult to get us all together but we ought to make the effort occasionally. When you want more wine, just wave your glass. Sir Julian and Hugh will try to keep up with you.

You all know that Julian and Mary have bought the Old Vicarage and plan to open a kindergarten there next year. Now you’ve all had the summer to think about it, there are issues we need to discuss and Mary and Julian will answer any questions in a minute but there are other changes happening as you know and we want to throw open virtually anything for discussion at this stage before we get too far down the road. What we are hoping is that you will have ideas we may not have thought about or can offer suggestions on how to do things better. We’re also hoping that you’ll go on thinking and, when you have ideas or questions, you’ll bring them to John, Sir Julian or to me. Julian?”


Julian made his way between the staff who were crowded into the room and came to stand beside Eric.

“I’m here tonight wearing three hats.” He said and several people smiled. “First, I’m representing the Governors. I wrote to you all about the change of Governors last term so you know all about that and we met at the end of last term to discuss a way forward for the school from here. We’ve agreed some basics but we are keen to get views from you as you will be in the front line of implementing changes.

Secondly, I’m here as Business Manager for the school, for want of a better title. Again, you all know what that entails and I won’t bore you with it, but with that hat on, I’ll be thinking about finances and practicalities so anyone who wants a brand new heated indoor swimming pool, I’m sorry but the answer at the moment is a resounding ‘No’ both for cost and the difficulties of getting materials.”
He paused to take a sip of wine. “Much as I would personally like one.” There was a general chuckle and he noticed a relaxation in the atmosphere.

“Lastly, I’m here because of the Kindergarten. It’s Mary’s project really and was her idea but it does have implications throughout Chaucer at least and as co-owner of the Old Vicarage, I’m obviously involved.”

Keith Morris raised his hand. “How many children are you expecting to get for the Kindergarten? Are there really enough children in the area to make it worthwhile?”

Julian looked at Mary who was sitting on the arm of a sofa.

“Just looking at the near area, where travel would be reasonably easy, there are thirteen children at the moment travelling to Northallerton for school in the five to eight age range and another ten from eight to thirteen. We’d be a lot closer for all of them. There are also fifteen who are away at boarding school. There are another three who are at the Village School because their parents don’t feel they are old enough to travel but would have gone to Northallerton when they are eight. We won’t get all of them, of course, but word has already got out.” She paused as a general laugh went up.

“The village jungle telegraph never fails!” called someone from the back of the room.

Mary laughed. “Too true. We’ve already had phone calls from parents who have children coming up to five to put their names down for next September and we’ve not even officially announced it yet or worked out fees or anything. Even if we don’t get any of the older ones, we’ve already got seven provisionally entered to start us off.

I’ve been talking to the Head of a Girls’ Boarding School, some of you know it, The Chalet School. They did the same thing and have had a succession of people moving into the area in order to send their children there. We’ve reason to believe the same may happen here as we are near enough to Leeds for men to commute to work by train. We hear that some Professional people are keen to move out into the country nowadays, especially as housing is in such short supply in the towns and they are increasingly reluctant to send their children to boarding school early.

A few of you have been down to the new house to see what we are up to and the rest of you are welcome any time. Wear old clothes, though, as the builders are still working.”

“Tell us what your plans are.”
Paul Cready called out. “How big do you want to grow and what sort of education are you planning - traditional or are you going all modern?”

“That’s part of what we want to discuss. I’m keen on keeping things very informal for the five year olds at least. I’ve been talking to Nancy and she says one of her biggest problems is boys who have been taught by rote and don’t understand what they are doing.”

“I agree. The other moan I have is that a lot of them have been put off lessons by the time they get here. A lot of schools still expect really young children to sit perfectly still and listen for a whole lesson at a time.”
Nancy put in. “A leavening of children who have been taught in our ways would be a blessing.”

“We’ve four really big rooms on the ground floor, of which we’d use three as classrooms and the fourth as a hall and dining room. We could fit fifteen children into each and still have room for them to move about for some activities. There are a load of outbuildings, stables and so on, which could be converted or rebuilt even, if we needed more space and there is a big lawn at the back which could be an outside play area or used for playing rounders and so on, once we’ve knocked it into shape again.”

“Have you thought that some of the parents may want to keep their boys as day boys once they move to Chaucer? How would that work out?”
A voice called from the back of the room.

For a good fifteen minutes, Mary was kept busy answering questions, making notes of things she needed to find out and asking for views on ideas.

Eric stood up as the discussion slowed and she waved her empty wine glass at Julian.

“Thank you everybody. I’m going to suggest that we leave that subject for the minute and any more questions can go to Mary afterwards. She can circulate any queries or ideas for future consideration. Let’s move on to the idea of incorporating girls into Chaucer.”

Paul Cready waved his hand immediately. “I’ve two queries and they overlap with the kindergarten. Once the kindergarten has more than one class, how will we staff it. We’ll be losing Mary anyway, we’ve already got people rushing up and down the hill to Polgarth and we’ve all got full workloads. The second, as you might expect from me, is the question of sports. Girls can’t play rugby or soccer and I’ve never taught any girls’ sports.”

“We’ll certainly need more staff once it gets off the ground and, sooner or later, we’re going to have to come up with an answer to the rushing around from house to house. It may keep us fit but it is hardly efficient.”


John grinned at a couple of staff who had obviously lost weight in the past year.

“We’ve thought about the need for some girls’ lessons, like including sewing, some simple cookery and sport. Even if we have people who could cope with those subjects, we’ll need more staff. I must say I’m quite keen on the idea of the kindergarten getting to know some of the Chaucer Staff before they move up. I gather it has made a difference to the move to Polgarth for the Upper IV year since we got some continuity.”

“I’d like to see some men teaching in the kindergarten as well.”
Nancy said. “A lot of kindergartens have all female staff and one of the hardest things the new boys find to cope with is getting used to men. I expect that will improve but, with so many fathers being away during the war, some of our newer boys have lived in all female households and it seems to come as a shock to have to relate to men,”

“We’ll certainly bear that in mind, Nancy, it’s a good point. We’ve got two men being demobbed who will be with us after Christmas. Some of you will remember Mr Keeble who taught Classics and Latin and Mr Fawcett who taught senior Maths. They will ease things in the senior school. We’ve also got a rather general ad with the agencies for suitable people in most subjects. We’re still going ahead with our requirement for languages in new staff though and that is slowing things down.”

“Where will you put them?”
asked Anne. “The Lodge is jam packed if you take on any more women and so are the staff quarters in the schools.”

“We’re thinking of using part of the new house for staff quarters.”
Said Julian. “We’ve loads of room upstairs as we’ll only need one wing and the attics seem to go on forever. We’re getting all the plumbing sorted at the start so it will just be a matter of decorating and furnishing. It was Dorothy’s idea, we hadn’t thought how to use the rest of the house. We’ve also got the Lodge at the new house as well. The new Vicar has moved to the village now his house is ready and that has three bedrooms and could be altered to make four, or even extended. By the way, if any of you are coming down to see us, you can use the lane which opens onto the drive by Chaucer now it is opened up. You’ll find we’re nearer to Chaucer by that route than Polgarth is. We’ve also located a source of building materials from a house near Richmond that is being demolished, that should enable us to get on with more work at Chaucer and Polgarth.”

The discussion continued, ranging from staffing and accommodation to new subjects and the dearth of text books. At times, individual conversations broke out and the two Heads took the opportunity to sit back and observe the interactions and alliances forming as the staff intermingled and aired their views. Julian and Hugh were kept busy opening bottles of wine and making their way round the crowded room replenishing glasses, sometimes getting involved in discussions as they passed the various groups.

Eventually, Eric looked at the big clock on the mantelpiece and then caught the eye of Helen Price, the Polgarth Junior Matron. She nodded and slipped out of the room, returning a few minutes later followed by two maids with a trolley laden with cups and large pots of coffee and tea. As the maids poured, cups were passed round and soon everyone was served, conversation died down and everyone looked expectantly at Eric and John, who stood together by the fireplace.

“Well, we’ve agreed some things, you’ve brought up some good suggestions and, of course, we’ve aired a lot of other issues.” Eric grinned round the room and quite a few people chuckled at the last as some of the discussions had been quite heated.

”We will look through the notes Robert and Mary have been taking and try and let you all have a summary in a few days. Despite the difficulties in getting everyone together, I feel it has been worthwhile and you now have a better idea of what lies ahead.” He paused and went on in a more serious tone.

“We have to change if the school is to continue to succeed. Some of you know how near we came to disaster during the war with falling numbers. If the Shareholders had not invested more money and trusted us to turn things round, we could have closed.

That is behind us now and we face new challenges. I don’t want to throw out the baby with the bathwater – we’ve got a lot of things right over the years - but you all know that education in this country is changing and so are the careers available to our boys.”

“For some of you change is unwelcome.”
John took over. “I’m older than most of you and have seen a lot of changes in my time here and it’s never easy but I’m looking at this as my last big contribution to the school. We respect your doubts, those of you who have them, but we can’t let them hold us back. Change is happening so please try to think of positive suggestions, however wild they may seem. We want to go forward together and that is why we’re discussing things now, while they are still at the planning stage.”

He carefully did not look at a small group towards the back of the room who had looked less and less happy as the evening progressed. Eric did look and was heartened to see a couple of older men looking a little shame faced.

“That’s it for tonight.” Said Eric. “Thank you for coming and, if you want to continue chatting, feel free to stay for a while – there’s more coffee and tea on the trolley if anyone wants some.”

There was a moments silence and then some people stood up to leave and others renewed their conversations. Julian came over to John and Eric and joined them by the fireplace.

“I think it went well.” He said cheerfully. “We’ve a few doubters but we can live with that. Most of the issues they raised are quite valid and we knew they would have to be faced sooner or later. Mary is going to walk down with the other women and I’ll pick her up from the Lodge later so I’ll stay a while. Hello, Robert. How did you think it went?”

Robert Allen, Eric’s deputy, was a short, slightly built man in his late forties. His dark hair, streaked with grey was receding and his rather stern features, emphasised by a beak of a nose, was forbidding till one noticed the twinkle in his grey green eyes.

“A fair number are looking forward to changing things and I’m glad we gave everyone a chance to air their views. It will give them a chance to sort them now, rather than fester in silence.”

“To carry that analogy to it’s conclusion, things that fester sometimes erupt in a nasty mess so the less of that we have the better.”
Responded Eric.

Charles Evans, who had joined them, made a face. “What a horrid analogy. I hope we don’t have to lance any boils. John, if you don’t need me, I’m off back to Chaucer. I know Alice Carter and Dorothy will be keen to get home as soon as their husbands get there so I’ll officially take over and let the Prefects get back up here.”

“Thanks. We’ll have a chat tomorrow afternoon if you are free.”


*

“How did it go?” Dorothy sat opposite Hugh at the kitchen table, a mug clasped in both hands. [I] “It was a bit late last night to go into detail but I’m dying to hear.”

“Quite well, I think. There wasn’t really anything came up that you didn’t know about already. A few of the older staff are not so keen on change but we expected that.”

“They would probably rather slow up now than face a new challenge. Think of how Dad’s attitude has changed in the past year since he decided to work less and then retire . I think he would leave the shop tomorrow if his brother came up with the rest of the money and I never expected that even a year ago.”

“I think we can work round them. Robertson retires in ’49 so next year will be his last school year and a couple of the others are not far behind him. I think John and Eric are more concerned about getting new staff than about them. So long as they keep doing the job as it is, we’ll manage. They’re all teaching further up the school anyway. There was no serious argument about taking girls at Chaucer, though Paul was a bit worried about the sport side of things. Oh, just by the way, I noticed Ivy waiting for Charles to walk back last night.”

“Now who’s matchmaking. It would be nice for them both, though. Perhaps Julian will be able to get that row of cottages done up and that would encourage them.

The sport side of things shouldn’t be a problem with the number of women staff we have now. Shall we walk down to the Old Vicarage this afternoon? Mary said they will be down there and she wants me to look at some of the plants and help her decide on priorities before they do anything more outside. Some of them won’t be worth saving but it would be worth making a start now before winter comes on. It looks as if the weather is clearing and we can try the new lane. I’ve not been down it yet.”

“You’ll need your Wellingtons.”

“I’d like to make the effort. I wouldn’t want them to think we’re not interested.”

Author:  Lesley [ 11 Mar 2008, 22:13 ]
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Oh lovely - so good to see them going into this so thoroughly - far more likely to be successful.


Thanks Pat. :lol:

Author:  PaulineS [ 11 Mar 2008, 22:31 ]
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thanks Patmac. It is good to see the challenges which faced schools in 1947-8. Hope the building work goes well.

Author:  Sugar [ 12 Mar 2008, 00:00 ]
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Thanks patmac - it's good to see them being so committed to positive change.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 12 Mar 2008, 00:46 ]
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I just found this after a long and somewhat hectic day, which isn't over yet! It was a real treat to be a 'fly on the wall' at that staff meeting, and see how everything was discussed. Those years immediately following the end of World War II brought such far-reaching changes in so many places, including education, and clearly the Polgarth group aren't minded to fall behind. Despite those few who have doubts, the overall impression is one of optimism and eagerness for progress. And I love the 'domestic' details too, such as the way Julian finds his building materials!!

Thank you Patmac - I will look forward to further developments.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 12 Mar 2008, 01:48 ]
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Fascinating to see just how the changes and their implications are being addressed. And it's very wise to let the doubters have their say - otherwise there will be trouble in the future.

Thank you Patmac

Author:  patmac [ 13 Mar 2008, 21:16 ]
Post subject: 

I'm loving the way people are picking up on the period detail - I might have known that someone on the board would know 'exactly' when national service ended. :wink:

“What are you doing this afternoon ‘cos I’d like a good ramble. We didn’t get far last weekend because of the weather.” Copley joined the other three boys in the hallway where they were gathered waiting for the breakfast bell to ring.

“I’ll join you. We may not get many more chances as the winter comes on.” Reg replied. “Are the rest of you coming?”

“I’m going to tea with Mr Wilson.”
Dixon volunteered. “I’ve only seen him once this term so I’ll have to cry off.”

“I’ll come. We could try the new lane down to the Old Vicarage. I don’t suppose they’d mind if we walked down there and had a quick look.”

“Good idea, Hanson. It’s going to be part of the school so we ought to check it out. We could walk on down to the river afterwards by the bottom lane and come back across the fields. We can put our names on the packed tea list then we don’t have to hurry back.”

“Good. I’ll put us on the list on the board. Mind you wear your boots though, it’s still muddy.”


*

“What do you think of the term so far?” Copley stopped to retie his bootlace and the others waited for him.

“Hectic, but we expected that.” Said Reg as they set off down the path again. ”Quite frankly. I’m enjoying it.”

“I didn’t realise there was so much to do with the library. I think our crowd must have been very law abiding the way we returned our books on time.” Hanson didn’t truly sound as if he minded the work.

“I don’t think we were too keen on paying fines, some of these youngsters don’t have any idea of the value of money.” Commented Copley.

“What else do you do besides chasing overdue books?” Reg asked.

“We make sure the boys on library duty from the various forms are doing their job and also answer any queries they have. We check the bindings are not coming loose and that they’ve not been scribbled in. We take suggestions from the boys for new books and we check with the English staff when we are given books. You’d be surprised what some parents seem to think is all right for quite young boys to read. We’ve got the French and German sections to deal with as well. We’re still entering all the new ones we got at the beginning of term on the index cards. I never thought of how many books are printed in different languages and it’s not always as obvious that they are the same as Les Trois Mousquetaires. Some have quite different titles.”

“Have we had a lot of new ones?”
Reg asked. “I’ve hardly looked at the French and German books this term, I’ve been so busy.”

“We’ve had loads. Mr Evans and some of the other staff went to France in the summer and they brought back piles, all second hand of course, and a lot of them are more suitable for Chaucer but we’ve decided that some are useful at Polgarth because we’ve still got a lot of boys who don’t read other languages very well. I got a bit distracted by L'Île Noire the other day!”

“L'Île Noire? The Black Island. Not the Tintin book?”

“The very same. That new mistress, Miss Benoit, gave us that, together with a whole stack of Agatha Christies and a load of others. It’s getting right impressive. It’s weird reading it in French, almost like having an echo in your head. Then boys come and say things like ‘I read a book last year with a blue cover and I think it had a boy called Toby in it. Do we have it in the library?’”


He rolled his eyes.

“What do you do then?” Copley could hardly speak for laughing.

“Well, we ask if they remember anything else and sort of prompt them with ‘Were there any other children?’ ‘Was it set in a school?’. Things like that. That’s after we’ve banged our heads on the counter a few times!”

“Does it work?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes they come back a few days later and tell us his name wasn’t Toby but something else. I suppose it is a bit funny really and Farley and I do have a laugh about it. It’s fun working with Farley as well, he’s as keen on reading as I am and he’s recommended some books that I’d never have tried. I say, there’s Mr Wheeler, sitting on the wall. Shall we go and say hello?”

”Let’s. I haven’t seen him to speak to for ages.”
Reg was quite agreeable and Copley nodded.

John looked up from the book he was reading as he kept half an eye on the junior boys who were disporting themselves on the lawn. “Hello, you three. I see you are making the best of the fine day but where’s your fourth?”

“He’s gone to see Mr Wilson, Sir.”
Said Reg. “We’re on our way down the new lane to get a quick peek at the Old Vicarage.”

“Good idea. You might find it a bit crowded. It seems a popular walk today.”

“We’ll just take a peek and then go on round towards the river.”

“How are you getting on this term? Enjoying the Sixth Form?”

“Mostly. We miss being together as much and, of course, it’s not the same without MacDonald and Fourakis.”

“It seems odd being in the Sixth Form.”
Added Copley. “I feel the same as when I was at Chaucer.”

“Just try sitting in one of the Third form desks.”
Suggested John. “You’d realise you’ve grown up a lot since then.”

The three boys laughed at the idea. “Even I’d have trouble with that.” Said Hanson, “And I’m still the shortest. I’m never going to be tall, I take after my parents.”

After a few minutes of further chat the three boys set off again and crossed the main drive to the new lane, Copley and Hanson chatting about school affairs.

“Entwistle, wake up!” Hanson said as Reg failed to answer a question about Hobbies. “You were miles away then. What were you thinking about so hard?”

“Sorry. I was thinking that Mr Wheeler looks older and I think he’s shrunk.”


Copley and Hanson exchanged an amused glance. “When were you last actually standing next to him?” asked Copley.

Reg thought for a moment. “The term before last, I suppose. Why?”

“Because, I think you’ve grown, rather than him shrinking. How tall are you now?”

“I’m not sure. My medical isn’t till November so I haven’t been measured for nearly a year. Why don’t I notice it with everyone else?”

“Because you’ve seen us pretty regularly so it’s happened gradually. Stand next to me.”
Hanson stood next to Reg and looked up. “I’m not up to your shoulder now.”

“How weird. I hadn’t even noticed. Anyway, what were you talking about?”

“The Kite Club. Has any decision been taken about a Junior Club for the younger boys.”


Reg groaned. “We want to but we’d need more help. Mr Oliver can’t spare any more time and neither can I. Mrs Roper is tied up with the new kindergarten and as for Rawson – I don’t know how he keeps up with everything.”

“Why not suggest co-opting someone younger to help out?”
Hanson suggested. “After all you were younger when you started it so why can’t someone younger help? You’ll be bringing them along as well, ready for next year.”

“Why didn’t I think of that!”
exclaimed Reg, slapping his forehead, theatrically. “I’ll talk to Rawson about it the minute I can get hold of him. I even know the right person as well.”

“Who?”

“Canning, of course. He’s not only keen on the kites but he’s involved with the work at the San as well. I think he’ll go in for something in medicine when he comes to choose his career. I say, this is quite a wood, isn’t it. We’ve never been through here before.”

“Judging by the undergrowth, I’m not surprised. We’d have been scratched to death. Look, there used to be a lane going down there.”
Hanson pointed to their left where a break in the trees showed distinctly.

“It went up the hill on the other side as well.” Said Copley, pointing. “Look, there’s a stone set each side of where the corner was.

“So there is.”
The three boys looked at one another and then Reg shook his head. “Let’s leave that for another day otherwise we won’t see the Old Vicarage today. We can come back when we’ve got a full day and explore.”

“All right. We could do with a map and compass anyway. The woods go down quite a long way. I don’t want to play Babes in the Wood. Breadcrumbs sound so unsatisfying somehow.”


They walked on down the newly opened lane and eventually came out onto an area which had been cleared and covered with limestone chippings, bounded on the far side by a stone wall. Five bicycles leaned against a tree and a car was parked at the far side. Looking up, they saw a cluster of old buildings and, beyond it, the outlines of a large house, scaffolding covering the near wall. The sound of voices and laughter could be heard clearly and the boys stopped and looked at one another doubtfully.

“Mr Wheeler said it was a popular walk but it sounds more like a party. I don’t think we ought to go and barge in on a crowd of staff.”

“Too right, Copley, but we’ve come all the way down now. Is there anywhere we could get a peek without being seen?”


The boys looked round and decided they could skirt round the bottom of the wood but before they could set off, they heard a squeaking from beyond the wall and Mr Evans appeared through a gateway, clad in an old pair of trousers and a torn shirt and trundling a wheelbarrow loaded with weeds.

“Hello, have you come to help?” he said, putting the handles down and straightening up. He pushed back his red hair, leaving a streak of mud on his forehead and across his bright red hair. He then looked at his muddy hand in disgust. “That wasn’t a good idea! I suppose I’ve got a streak of mud right across my forehead?”

“And across your hair.”
Reg replied, helpfully. “We just came down to sneak a quick look at the new house, Sir. We didn’t realise there’d be lots of people here.”

“I see. Just let me get rid of these weeds and we’ll go through to the garden and you can see what we are up to.”


He picked up the handles and Reg sprang forward. “Let me, Sir. Where do you want them?”

“Thank you. I’ve lost count of how many loads I’ve brought out today. Over there, please.”


He pointed to a large pile of weeds and chopped up shrubbery and Reg ran the barrow across and, with an expert’s ease, tipped the weeds onto the pile.

They followed the tall man through the gap in the wall and saw a large overgrown garden, surrounded by four walls and dotted about with fruit trees and overgrown shrubbery and weeds. Gravel paths were beginning to emerge from the vegetation and the boys could see that they crossed the garden to each wall, lining up with a gate on each side. Where they had been cleared, they could see that the paths were edged with red quarry tiles, a rope edge topping them and, as they looked more closely, they could see other paths running off in each direction.

Spread about the garden were various members of staff, all busy clearing the weeds and small shrubs.

“It’s turned into a weeding party.” Said Mr Evans with a smile. “All we’re doing is clearing the paths at the moment and Sir Julian will have to get workmen in to dig the beds.”

“Not till we’ve decided what is worth saving!”
Mrs Douglas came up behind them and they jumped. “Hello, you three. We wondered how long it would be before the boys started coming down for a look.”

Reg grinned at her. “Are we the first? This is like the Secret Garden. I’m expecting Dickon to appear any minute, after all it’s in Yorkshire.”

“That’s the first reaction I had.”
Dorothy grinned at the boys. ”You’re not quite the first. Some of Upper VI arrived about half an hour ago. They’re over there.” She pointed to where the unmistakable figure of Davis was wrestling with the large trunk of a tree which had been chopped down. Rawson and Farley were nearby picking up bundles of cut branches and loading them into a wheelbarrow.

The three boys looked at one another. “We’ve all got old clothes and boots on.” Said Hanson. “What do you want doing?”

Mrs Douglas looked round the garden and thought for a moment. “If you don’t mind, I’ll split you up for now. Entwistle, if you could help Davis with that tree, I think he’d be glad of your strength. Copley and Hanson, Miss Goodwin and Miss Parker are over in that corner though you can’t see them for the pile they’ve cleared. If you could take a wheelbarrow and clear up behind them before they get completely buried in weeds, I’m sure they’d welcome you, if they keep throwing weeds over their shoulders, we may never rescue them ”

Reg strode across to Davis and got hold of the tree trunk at the other end.

“Thank goodness.” Said Davis in obvious relief. “Someone with some muscles. Glad to see you, Entwistle. I began to think I was going to have to drag this across the garden by myself.”

“Where are we taking it?”

“Through that gateway into the old stable yard. I wouldn’t dignify the heap by calling it a woodpile just yet but at least it will all be in one place.”


They added the big log to the growing pile and stood back. “We only came down to have a quick look.” Davis grinned at Reg.

“Us, too. They seem happy to see us, though.”

“Too true. I was glad to see you just then. It’s nice to have someone else to share the lifting. Too many people think brain and brawn can’t go together.”


Reg beamed. “I do know what you mean. You know this pile wants sorting. It’s an appalling mix of sizes and, if we go on piling it higher, it will all have to be sorted again before they can store it.”

Davis looked at the heap. “You’re right, though I wouldn’t have thought of it. I’m a townie myself and all our wood comes off a cart in bags, ready chopped.”

“They could really do with getting it straight under cover to season as well. Who should we ask?”

“Sir Julian, I suppose, it’s his house. Mrs Douglas seems to be in charge of deciding what is to be removed but she just wants it out of the way. I don’t know why she chooses some things and not others.”

“She’ll be keeping any fruit trees and bushes that can be saved. This one we’ve just brought out is a sycamore and no use to man nor beast in a garden – they grow like anything and seed all over the place.”


Davis sighed. “I’m finding out how much I don’t know about gardening today. Let’s see if we can find Sir Julian. He wasn’t in the walled garden.”

The two boys walked out of the stable yard and following the sound of voices, walked round the house to the front where more staff were rooting up shrubs and weeds from flower beds in front of the house.

“There he is.” Reg pointed to the far end where a figure was digging furiously with a fork round the roots of a large clump of michaelmas daisies. “Gosh, this paving is a mess. It all needs taking up and relaying. See what I mean about sycamore?” He pointed to a sapling which was vigorously thrusting up between two tilted stones.

“I see what you mean, though how you know what tree it is without any leaves on it escapes me.” Davis grinned at the younger boy. “They do say a day in which you learn something new is not a day wasted.”

“That’s the sort of thing my Auntie says.”

“I got it from my Gran. I laugh at her sometimes, not when she can see me mind, but it’s funny how those old sayings stick in your head. Sir Julian. Sorry to interrupt you but we’re moving old trees out of the walled garden and Entwistle says it would be more sensible to put them straight under cover and sort as we go.”


Julian stood up and mopped his face with a grubby handkerchief. “Hello, I didn’t realise any boys had joined us but we’re extremely grateful. Entwistle’s right, though I hadn’t realised we’d get so much cleared today. I’m jolly glad to stop digging anyway. This plant is so big, I don’t reckon I’ll get it out today.”

“Why don’t you split it up first with a spade, Sir?”
Reg queried. “You’ll only want some of the newer shoots anyway, the middle will be all woody and won’t flower well.”

Julian groaned. “Now you mention it, Mrs Douglas taught me that when we were clearing the cottage gardens. Don’t tell me we’ve got another expert in our midst. I’ll come and sort out where we’re going to put the wood then. At least it will give me a legitimate excuse to get the kinks out of my back and this monster can wait for another day – there aren’t any spades free anyway.”

He walked with them to the stable yard and they looked at the tangled heap. Julian whistled in surprise. “Goodness me, you lot have been busy. Let’s declare one of the stables as a wood store for the moment. Entwistle is right that it should be under cover.”

“What do you mean by seasoning it?”
Davis asked Reg as they followed Julian across the yard.

“It’s to dry it out. At the moment the wood is full of water and won’t burn well. It will need to stand for a whole summer to be fit for the fire.”

“We’ll use this one.”
Julian opened a stable door. ”It’s sound so we won’t be scavenging the tiles from the roof. I think for the moment we’ll use a separate stall for each of three sizes and we can think of doing something more sophisticated later. We’ve got some woodsmen coming to thin out the trees in the wood so we’ll have to sort something better out then.”

“Right, Sir. Do you want any evergreens kept separate? Most of them spit like anything and the oil in them doesn’t do the chimney any good”

“Yes, please. They’ll need longer seasoning so we might as well sort them now. I think I’ll go and see how they are getting on in the walled garden next. Did you see Mrs Roper there?”

“Not that we noticed. I think Mrs Douglas is in charge in there. We didn’t really get chance to look round before she set us to work.”

“I’ll run her to earth somewhere. You’ll all join us for tea at around four o’clock?”

“Thank you, Sir. There’s six of us come down and we’ve all got packed tea.”

“Mr and Mrs Newby are bringing tea for us on the horse and cart. Knowing Mrs Newby, I can guarantee there’ll be a spare crust or two for you to fill the odd corner.”


Well knowing Mrs Newby’s views on what constituted enough to eat, the two boys grinned in anticipation.

“Well worth waiting for! We’ll get this pile sorted by then.”

Author:  Alex [ 13 Mar 2008, 21:35 ]
Post subject: 

patmac wrote:
I'm loving the way people are picking up on the period detail - I might have known that someone on the board would know 'exactly' when national service ended.


That's just to keep you on your toes Patmac!

Am loving this as much as ever, thanks.

Edited: because evidently I did it wrong before.

Author:  Lesley [ 13 Mar 2008, 21:36 ]
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Thanks Pat - that was excellent, seeing more about how the boys have grown and how they fit in so well in the School. Reg was certainly earning his pay there, wasn't he?


Oh and sorry about the National Service thing - it's only because my Dad couldn't join up that I know the date! :oops:

Author:  Sugar [ 13 Mar 2008, 21:47 ]
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Thanks Patmac!

Author:  PaulineS [ 13 Mar 2008, 22:45 ]
Post subject: 

Pat some of lived through those times as well. At least I can remember National Service as some lads I knew wee called up, and those only a year or so younger missed it. I love the mix of knowledge they all have, with some knowing about plants and trees and others aware of old sayings.

Glad Reg thought of Canning for the Kite Club and that the two six forms are getting on so well.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 14 Mar 2008, 03:11 ]
Post subject: 

Another lovely piece Patmac - I just love seeing how these boys, especially Reg, have grown up - and not only physically, over the course of this saga. They are all working so hard, and yet there is an indefinable sense of peace, progress and contentment running through it all. Thank you.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 14 Mar 2008, 05:05 ]
Post subject: 

Two updates. :D Thank you, Pat.

Such a good sense of community, from the Kite Club on up.

Reg is really showing his experience. Next thing you know, he'll have the paving redone!

Author:  Cath V-P [ 14 Mar 2008, 08:12 ]
Post subject: 

Good to see the sense of community that has developed here, and just how much all their different skills and abilities can contribute to it. And do we have a librarian in the making here?

Author:  Elbee [ 14 Mar 2008, 09:43 ]
Post subject: 

I love the way the boys are happy to just pitch in with the staff to help in the garden, it creates a lovely, friendly atmosphere. Yes, I can just see Reg relaying the paving soon!

Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  Jennie [ 14 Mar 2008, 15:16 ]
Post subject: 

Thanks, Patmac. Lovely!

Author:  patmac [ 14 Mar 2008, 21:12 ]
Post subject: 

This is the last post for 2 weeks as we are off to America tomorrow to take the holiday we missed last summer :P We will also meet the latest grandson who was born in November :P :P

All I have to do after posting this is get supper, finish the ironing, pack, do all the things needed for leaving a house for 2 weeks (note to self: check fridge) and leave at 5.30 in the morning. I'll leave out mention of sleeping because I'm too excited to sleep and will have plenty of chance on an 8 hour flight!


“Dig in.” Julian waved expansively at the trays of sandwiches, rolls and small meat pies laid out on a tarpaulin on the grass. “Mrs Newby has, as usual, provided a superb spread.”

“Thank you, Sir. We certainly appreciate it.”
The other boys murmured their agreement with Rawson.

“It’s the least we could do after Mrs Douglas shanghaied you as soon as you appeared. Your help is much appreciated, believe me.”

“Come and join us.”
Called Hugh, seeing the boys looking for a suitable place to sit. The six boys went across to the group where a group of staff were sitting in various attitudes of exhaustion.

“Where’s Mrs Douglas?” Hanson asked, looking round.

“She’s indoors taking care of Hilary. She’ll be out in a few minutes, I expect.”

Hanson grinned at the staff as he sat down. “I just wanted to be sure she wasn’t going to creep up on me and set me to work again before I’ve had my tea.”

There was a general laugh and the Head of Geography, Jeremy Robertson, groaned. “Don’t even suggest it. I’ve got aches in muscles I didn’t know I had. I thought gardening was a nice quiet hobby. I was even thinking it might be a nice thing to do when I retire.”

Hugh looked round the group. “I used to think the same. I was very much the city bloke before I came here and I didn’t know a dandelion from a carrot, as Mr Newby will confirm. How many of you are the same.”

Most hands went up, including five of the six boys.

“We’ve only helped on the farm and that is mainly since the war started and the younger men were called up. I still don’t know much.” Keith Morris said. “I’ve quite enjoyed myself today. It’s got me out in the fresh air and I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“You could have all the exercise you wanted if you took up a sport.”
James Hodge responded.

“No, thank you! I’ve never been any good at sport.”

“Why not, Keith?” James sounded interested, rather than scornful.

“I’ve had bad eyesight since I was a baby and no one realised till I was about ten by which time I had been teased so much that I decided I just didn’t like anything to do with ball games at all.”

“How did you manage in lessons?”
Hugh asked.

“I was considered totally useless, a dunce, a dullard. No one realised I couldn’t see the blackboard. Once I got glasses, I went ahead at a rate of knots but, somehow, I never got the knack of dealing with any sport.”

“That’s why we start them so young with rounders and simple games.” James offered. “It’s like lots of things, you learn better when you’re young.”

“I wonder how many boys still have the same problem?”
Hugh wondered aloud. “Maybe we should be testing the boys’ eyesight when they arrive.”

Charles Evans was sharing a plate with Ivy Parker. “We tend to assume that parents deal with that sort of thing but maybe we are wrong. Does anyone know how we would go about it, we can hardly send all the boys to Northallerton to be tested, it would cost a fortune.”

“Aren’t tests going to be free under the new National Health Service?”
Hugh suggested. “Perhaps parents will send their children as a matter of course if they don’t have to pay?”

Helen Price, one of the junior matrons at Polgarth snorted. “You might think so, Hugh, but it’s not just a matter of being able to afford it. We get some boys with dreadful teeth even though their parents could easily afford a dentist. We hold teeth inspections every term and take the boys to the dentist as we need to. It’s not so bad farther up the school where we’ve had them a few years but, if you’ve half an hour to spare, ask your matron, Alice, down at Chaucer. She’ll bend your ears with her opinions on the subject.”

Hugh turned to the boys who were listening avidly. “As a sample, have you boys ever had your eyes tested?”

Reg, Rawson, Davis and Copley shook their heads.

“I have.” Hanson replied. “My Pa had something called a lazy eye when he was little and it needed the good eye covering till the bad one became stronger. He still wears glasses for reading and he insisted I had mine tested to be sure I didn’t have the same.”

“Both my parents wear glasses so they had mine tested. Luckily, I hadn’t got any problems. In fact, my Dad had the same problem as Mr Morris and he never took up any sport. He got called clumsy and was teased so much he wouldn’t even try.”
Davis volunteered.

“How many of the rest of us have ever had an eye test?” Hugh asked. He held up his own hand and it was joined by a minority. “Interesting. My first one was when I signed up for the RAF, otherwise I wouldn’t have had one. Of course, after the crash they insist I have one every year.” He gestured to his eyepatch. “I can’t afford to risk my sight. Perhaps we could get one of those cards, the ones with letters of different sizes, and check new boys that way. Then we’d at least have an idea of who had a problem.”

“I’ll suggest it.”
Promised Helen. “We do deal with it when we notice a boy can’t see well but we could be missing some. It just goes to show what ideas come out when we get together like this, we should do it more often.”

*

“We got a lot done today. I was jolly glad of a bath when we got home though.”

“We had a lot of help. I didn’t expect so many of the staff to turn up, let alone some of the boys.”
Mary sat on the rug in front of the fire, towelling her hair.

“Neither did I. I think everyone who wasn’t on duty came down, it’s really heartening.”

“It’s nice to think they are behind us in this. I was particularly pleased to see Jeremy Robertson as he’s one who is finding the changes hard to take.”

“I wasn’t actually thinking of that, though it’s part of it. I was thinking it means they are all pulling together. Isn’t your hair dry yet?”


Mary felt the back of her hair.

“Not quite. They were pulling together literally in some cases. Did you see Robert and George trying to pull down that old fence? Joking aside, I know what you mean, though. There were people working together and talking nineteen to the dozen who I don’t think have exchanged more than the odd word before except about teaching. It was good to see Helen there as well. She’s younger than the other matrons and she seems on her own a lot. I noticed she was chatting to Dorothy at tea.”

“Everyone was so busy during the war when we were short handed and we’ve had quite a few new staff over the past couple of years as well.”

“But some of them have been here for years and years. Didn’t the staff get together before the war?”

“Not really.”
Said Julian thoughtfully. “They had joint staff meetings once a term and worked together on events but Chaucer and Polgarth were very separate. Even John and Eric weren’t that close. Friendships were usually within the house.”

“That seems odd to me, after all it’s supposed to be one school really. My hair is as dry as I’m going to get it.”
She ran her hands through her thick hair.

Julian left his chair and went to sit on a small stool near the fire behind Mary. Taking up a broad toothed comb, he began to gently comb the tangles out.

“I like you doing this. It’s very relaxing.”

“I like doing it, your hair is beautiful.”
Julian gently lifted her hair and gently kissed nape of her neck.

“That’s not so relaxing.” Mary laughed and turned to put her lips to his.

*

“I say, I’ve not heard from Gay yet this term.” Hanson exclaimed indignantly as he and Reg waited to get to the table in the hall where the post was laid out each morning. “I think it’s a jolly bad show because I’ve written to her twice. Have you heard from Jac?”

“No.”
said Reg, rather shortly. “You forget, we’re not related so we’d probably not be allowed to write. We only write in the holidays.”

Hanson looked puzzled. “I would have thought you could. After all, she’s just a friend, it’s not as if you were going soppy after her. Surely Auntie and Ruth would write to give permission if you asked. ” He looked at Reg’s flushed face and gasped. “Don’t tell me you . . . “

“Shut up! You’re too young to understand and it’s not like that. It’s not soppy at all.”
Reg turned his back on the younger boy and stalked across the hall to the stairs leaving Hanson looking stunned.

Reg, truth be told, had started the term feeling righteous and noble as only a sixteen year old can in forsaking the ‘love of his life’ in order to follow what he regarded as his calling.

Though he would have been horrified if anyone had suggested that he was romantic, he had wallowed in the tragedy which, to his mind, was as self-sacrificing as anything in great literature. His dreams had been haunted by her kiss and the feel of her body against his.

Conveniently forgetting that it had been Jacynth who had said she was not ready for a commitment, he had felt noble in his decision and vaguely superior to his friends who were not as mature as himself. School affairs, however, left little time for brooding, the feelings had faded and he hadn’t given a thought to Jacynth for weeks until Hanson had brought the matter to his mind again.

It just wasn’t fair!

*

“What I really want to do is have a big push at getting as much done as possible before the winter sets in. We can work on the inside during the bad weather but we really need to get as much done outside as possible but it would take more workmen than we can find locally, especially as we’re also trying to finish work up at the school.”

Tom stepped carefully over a broken, crooked slab before he replied.

“What exactly do you need doing? The roof is sound and now you’ve found some paint that you like, the painting is more than half done.”

Julian sighed. “I know, I’m just impatient. Everywhere I look, I see things we can’t get done, like this terrace. It needs lifting and relaying before someone breaks their neck! We really need to be able to have prospective parents visiting from about Easter if we’re to open in September and we can hardly have them walk across here.”

“Go on. Get it all off your chest.”
Tom gave Julian his irrepressible lopsided grin. “I’m not saying I can do anything but you never know. At least it might stop you bursting a blood vessel.”

“How long can you spare? We need to get the holes dug for the septic tanks, the ditch dug to put the drainage pipes in, That’s not minor work. Then the septic tanks have to be built in. Mary thought they came complete like a water tank, she didn’t realise it was really just a load of bricks we were buying! She didn’t know how big they had to be either. We’ve got enough tiles to roof the outhouse we’re converting to a kitchen and for the ones which will provide cloakrooms and toilets for the children but we need new lathes to nail them to – where they are to come from and who is going to do the work, I don’t know.

There is one bathroom and another cloakroom in the house at Richmond but that’s all – and you know the problems we had getting fittings for the cottages! If it hadn’t been for you, we’d still be bathing in front of the fire in the kitchen. I’ll stop there. You get the drift.”

“Most of the digging is just labouring. Have you looked farther afield?”

“There don’t seem to be any men out of work even in Leeds. We’re all right for craftsmen because so many of the local ones are older and don’t want to learn modern methods, though what anyone will do who wants skilled work once they retire, I haven’t a clue. If we go ahead and do work on the Lodge here and rebuild those cottages beyond Polgarth and we can get the materials to build the extra classrooms, we’ve enough work to keep a gang of men busy for a couple of years and that’s without the work we need on the gardens.”

“I’ll think on’t, though I’m fresh out of ideas but something will turn up, it always does.”


*

“You have a call from London, Sir Julian.”

“Thanks, Margaret. Put it through, please.”

“Hello, Sir Julian Roper speaking.”

“Julian, it’s Clive. I’m coming up North tomorrow on a case. May I come and visit you and Mary afterwards. I’d like to talk to you about something and, if I could beg a bed for the night, it would give us a chance to have a good chat. Are you free?”

“We’d love to have you. Is it anything important?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you. I don’t think it’s anything I’d want to discuss on a public line.”


There was a distinct click and Julian chuckled. “I think Margaret just went off in a huff.”

“Sorry. It’s my lawyer mind’s natural caution. I lost a case once as a result of an exchange operator’s gossip. Actually, I’d as soon it didn’t get right round the village before I’ve sounded you out, so perhaps it is as well.”

“I’ll sweet talk Margaret round. What time will you arrive?”

“I’ll be on the 5.30 train so if you could get someone in the village to give me a lift up, I’d be jolly grateful. I’ll pay in petrol coupons, we hardly use the car these days.”


Julian chuckled again. “Oh, that is so like a lawyer! Now, if you’d not sent Margaret packing, she’d have told you who will pick you up.”

“I just love the way the village works. London is getting us both down.”

“Thinking of rusticating, are you?”

“Close to it. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’d better clear the line in case there’s a call coming in. I’m still in the office.”

“See you tomorrow then. And Clive . . “

“What?”

“I’ve never been happier.”

“I know. That’s what Beryl says.”


*

“Entwistle!” Rawson caught sight of the younger boy as he left the house in his running strip after tea.

Reg turned to see what the Head Boy wanted, inwardly seething. He had, somehow, got through the last two days, though he might as well not have been in class for all the good it had done and he was aware that his inattention would cause trouble with his marks.

He needed to run till his body was tired. It seemed to be the only thing that helped when he felt like this. His mind seethed with a mix of embarrassment that he had betrayed his secret to Hanson, shame that he had hurt his friend’s feelings and confusion about the turmoil raging through his mind. There didn’t seem anyone he could talk to. It just wasn’t done to talk about girls at school.

“Bad day?” Rawson smiled, sympathetically as he saw the younger boy’s face.

Reg didn’t quite know what to say. He could hardly tell the Head Boy about his feelings for Jacynth. He tried, rather unsuccessfully to look unconcerned.

“Not really. I haven’t had a run this week and I’m not on tea duty today so I got finished quickly.”

“I won’t hold you up then. I’d like to see you after supper though. Dr Cartwright has agreed we can co-opt Canning to help with the Junior Kite Club.”

“That’s great. Where do you want to meet?”

“My study. I’ll see you straight after supper.”
He made a shooing motion with his hands and Reg turned, loping off across the lawn and vaulting the gate to the playing fields, rather than stopping to open it.

Rawson stood looking after him for a moment and then shook his head and went back into the house. Strange lad, Entwistle. Jolly as you like most of the time and then he went all intense. Word had got round both Sixth Forms that something was up between two of the Inseparables. Hanson had lost his usual mischievous grin and looked like a lost puppy. Entwistle had become distant, courteous but not really interested in anything. They were avoiding one another and being exaggeratedly polite when they were thrown into one another’s company.

The staff had noticed the problem and Dr Cartwright had dumped it firmly in Rawson’s lap. “We don’t want to take official notice of the problem but it’s affecting their work so I can’t ignore it. See if you can get to the bottom of it, you’ll probably stand more chance than anyone on the staff. If you can’t sort it I’ll get Mr Douglas onto it.” He had said and then seeing the worried expression on his Head Boy’s face, he added. “Look on it as training for when you have to manage other people later. I know your father is hoping you’ll go into his Law Partnership eventually and you’ll meet this sort of thing again and again. Don’t worry if you can’t sort it and I’ll not be asking you to break any confidences.”

Rawson sighed. It was an honour being Head Boy but he’d never realised just how complicated it could be.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 14 Mar 2008, 21:22 ]
Post subject: 

Patmac!!!!!!!!!!!!
and you're going off to America and leaving us there...???!!!??? :shock: :shock: :shock:

Seriously, have a lovely time :D

*hopes you've got the next episode ready to post as soon as you get back*

Author:  Lesley [ 14 Mar 2008, 21:48 ]
Post subject: 

Nice one Pat! :lol:


Poor old Reg.

Lovely episode as always - have a wonderful time in America.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 14 Mar 2008, 21:57 ]
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Poor old Reg. Yes, laying slabs would definitely be good for him. Likewise a reconciliation with Hanson.

Have a wonderful time, Pat! Should I be waving at planes going over, or vaguely east?

Author:  PaulineS [ 14 Mar 2008, 21:58 ]
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thank you for such a long update when you are busy getting ready to go to the USA. Have a good holiday and come back refreshed
We will want to know how Rawson and Sir Julian cope on your return

Author:  Pat [ 14 Mar 2008, 22:18 ]
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Have a great time in America Pat. And you could always plan more of this instead of sleeping on the flight!!

Author:  Jennie [ 14 Mar 2008, 22:28 ]
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Thanks, Pat. Have a great holiday.

Author:  Sugar [ 14 Mar 2008, 22:48 ]
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Thanks Patmac!

Have a lovely time in America!! And don't put Alan in the case!!

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 15 Mar 2008, 00:36 ]
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Thanks Patmac - have a wonderful time in America and enjoy meeting your newest grandson!!

Author:  Karoline [ 15 Mar 2008, 12:51 ]
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Thanks Patmac :) Have a lovely time in America and enjoy your new grandson

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 15 Mar 2008, 22:55 ]
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You'll be already gone by now, PatMac, but I do hope you will have had a glorious time.

Thank you for the updates - a lovely way of spending a wet Saturday evening.

Author:  Vikki [ 16 Mar 2008, 18:40 ]
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Lovely posts Pat! Thank you very very much, and have a brilliant time meeting your new grandson!

Author:  Soph [ 17 Mar 2008, 21:41 ]
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Thanks Pat, I love the way you write the characters, it is as if I am there with them!

Have a great time in the States.

Soph

Author:  Caroline [ 31 Mar 2008, 14:07 ]
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It's great to see this back, Patmac - I've just caught up with all the new stuff in one sitting, and it's amazing the seamless way you've picked the story up again - I can hardly see the join.

Quick query - everyone is calling Mary "Mrs Roper", when strictly speaking she should presumably be "Lady Roper" as Sir Julian's wife. Was that Mary's decision or...?

Hope you have had a fab time in the US!

:D :D :D

Author:  Anjali [ 06 May 2008, 01:54 ]
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Patmac, it's taken me 3 weeks to read all 13 parts of this, but I've finally caught up! I really liked Reg in 'Rescue', and not having read the end of the series , didn't know about the whole Len-Reg affair until I came on this board and found the transcripts site. Which means I still thought of Reg as a fun teenager, showing Jo's gang all the best walks! So I love the way you've made him so real - not to mention Hugh & Dorothy, who are now my favourite CS couple! Thanks.

Author:  patmac [ 19 May 2008, 16:55 ]
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Reg and I have finally managed to schedule a few hours so we're back. America was great. We spent a few days in Charleston, missing a tornado by about three miles but having to wade through water over our ankles to get back to our hotel! Then onto Kentucky to meet our new grandson and spend time on the 'holler' Vicky and Jay have bought up in the Appalachians. I got to ride an ATV, which is a quad bike on steroids. Then we flew to Boston to meet David and his family who flew up from California to join us - and I promptly tripped up a kerb and cut my forehead open, needing stitches!

As some of you know, I'm now retired so should have more time for writing. :P

Caroline, Mary and Julian took the decision that she would be Mrs Roper in school before they were married.

Here we go again!


“Clive! Come in and dump your things in the hall. Julian will be in shortly. It’s so good to see you.”

Clive set his bowler hat and gloves on the hall table and kissed Mary on the cheek. “It’s good to see you as well.” He said, as he unbuttoned his coat and slipped out of it.

“Just hang it on one of the hooks and come through to the kitchen. I’ve got the kettle boiling so tea will be ready in two ticks.”

Following Mary into the kitchen, Clive looked round appreciatively. “I say! This room is lovely, it’s so welcoming. I should think you’ll be sorry to move.”

“Thank you. It will be a bit of a wrench – I suppose there is always something special about your first home as a married couple. It won’t be for a while yet though, if I’d known what was involved I think I would have chickened out. The dratted house seems to dominate our lives at the moment. I don’t regret the decision but we do seem to be chasing our tails sometimes.”


Clive looked sympathetic. “Just keep your eye on the end result. You’ll look back and laugh at it all.” He advised.

“I’m sure we will. We do now sometimes. You’ve no idea how much I’m learning about septic tanks and I know exactly how to measure the fall of the drainage pipes. Julian wasn’t available when the Surveyor chap came to decree exactly where they should go and I got the delightful task of holding the end of his measuring tape and standing with a pole at various points down the hill so he could see how much slope there was. Of course, that was in the pouring rain with brambles up to my knees and I got soaked to the skin.”

She paused and chuckled as she poured the tea.

“The weird thing is that it was really interesting and we stood there with water dripping down our necks while I asked him questions so it took a lot longer than it need have.”

Clive accepted his cup and sipped appreciatively. “I needed that, it’s been a long day. I should think the Surveyor was actually rather pleased that you asked questions. I think most people like telling other people about their jobs.”

“You may be right. He didn’t seem to mind anyway.”


The back door opened and Julian came into the kitchen. “Great to see you.” He said to Clive as the two men shook hands. “Hello, dear.” He turned to Mary and gave her a quick kiss. “I’d love a cup of tea if there’s some in the pot.”

After a few minutes, the two men retired to the sitting room, leaving Mary to finish preparing supper, and Julian put a match to the already laid fire.

“Now, what do you want to talk about?” Julian asked when they were settled in the comfortable chairs.

“I’d like to talk to you both over supper, otherwise I’ll have to tell the story twice anyway. You tell me about the new house. I gather it’s quite a project.”

“It wouldn’t be, if we could get the labour. Materials are a problem, of course, but I told you about that house we’ve bought up near Richmond. Most of the wood and stone are usable, apart from at one end where there’s dry rot and, even there we can demolish the walls.”
He paused and frowned. “At least we could if we could get the workmen to do it!”

“How far afield have you tried?”

“We’ve even been as far as Leeds. It would mean a lot of travelling but there are people in the village who would take in a lodger if we could locate men.”

“From what Mary said in her last letter, it’s general labour you are looking for, not craftsmen.”


Julian nodded. “Anyone who can use a spade or a hammer would be fine. You know how much we’ve got planned and we could offer fairly long term work if we could get the workers.”

“Would you accept foreigners?”

“I can’t see why not, we certainly can’t get English workers. What do you have in mind?”

“Have you heard the Poles who served in the war and can’t go back to Poland because of the Soviets.”

“I know the background, of course. Poland has always had problems with the Germans and the Russians carving bits off it’s borders. This time, the agreements made at Yalta and Tehran once again carved it up and the border shifted West as the Soviets grabbed a slice. I can see why so many can’t go home – most of the Poles who fought with us came from the east of the country.”


Clive nodded. “There are over a hundred thousand who are staying and more are arriving from the continent every week. As the German POWs are repatriated, the camps are being used for the Poles – in fact, people are arriving from all over Eastern Europe. They’re calling them ‘Displaced Persons’.”

Julian snorted in disgust. “Trust the politicians to give them a nice sanitary label! I wonder if that would work.”

“It is worth a thought. Some of them are well educated but can’t get jobs except labouring. A lot of them have gone into the mines or are working on farms. They’re clannish, mind you. It’s not as if they are here because they want to be.”

“Do you have any contacts?”

“Yes, as it happens. One of my clients asked me to look over the legal side of managing the camps. He’s involved with the Y.M.C.A. who have taken that on. I’ve met a few of them and they certainly seem to be keen to work. I could make some enquiries if you like. I know there are camps in Yorkshire.”

“What about the language problem? So far as I know we’ve no one who speaks Polish.”

“They seem to be getting over that by appointing one in each group as an interpreter – and they are certainly keen to learn English. Some of them have some knowledge of German as well, You’ve got some teachers who speak German and that would help.”

“I’ll need to see what sort of reception they would get in the village. I’d hate to see any prejudice.”

“Talk it over with a few people and let me know if you want to explore the idea farther.”

“I’ll do that. Let’s go into the kitchen and you can start to tell us both what you really came for.”


*

“I think that will all work out fine. The idea of getting a few of the younger boys to help is a good one. I’m sure Dr Cartwright will agree. He’s quite keen on giving them some experience early. It will certainly help future Head Boys.” Rawson leant back and ran his hands through his hair in relief. ”I’m sure Canning can take the lead provided you are there to call on when he needs it. He’s good at mixing and he gets on well with the younger boys.”

“I expect that is partly due to the time he spent in the San. That ward has a right mix of ages, any boy past the toddler stage and right up to sixteen or so. I was surprised in a way that a couple of the older ones weren’t moved up to the men’s ward, they didn’t fit in well with the younger boys, even though they were a bit younger than me.”

“The authorities probably didn’t want them getting ideas, you know, about girls and all that. I expect a lot of the men have wives and girlfriends who visit and there’s bound to be some gossip that wouldn’t be thought suitable for them. It’s silly really because if they are not staying on at school like us, they would be out and about with girls anyway. Unlike us poor souls who don’t get the chance.”
Rawson grinned. “Except in the holidays of course.”

Reg grinned back and then his jaw dropped as he realised what Rawson had said. He shut his mouth with a sharp snap and bent down to retie his shoelace to hide his red face.

“Bingo!” thought Rawson. “He’s got girl trouble. Gosh, I hope it’s not serious. Now how do I handle this?”

Reg sat up and gazed into the small fire crackling in the grate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rawson kept his tone casual.

“Talk about what?” Reg sounded defensive.

Rawson got up and lit the little spirit stove and set the kettle on it. Keeping his back to Reg, he said quietly “When one of my sub-prefects goes round looking as if he has lost his last guinea and his best friend, who is also a sub-prefect, acts the same, I’m bound to take notice. Part of the job, really.”

He busied himself with the teapot.

“If you don’t want to talk, fair enough, but if you don’t sort yourself out the staff are bound to take a hand. As soon as your marks go through the floor – and they will if you go on like this – they’ll have no choice.”

There was silence while Rawson stirred the tea in the pot and put milk in two mugs. Then he turned and looked at Reg.

“There’s this girl.” Reg hesitated and then went on in a rush. “I met her last year on holiday. She was with Christopher, I mean Hanson. I mean she was with his cousin, only we didn’t know they were cousins then, I was with Hanson and his family. She’s an orphan and she doesn’t have anyone since her aunt died. She’s really nice, nicer than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Rawson poured the tea while he worked out the incoherent statement as best he could, decided asking for clarification was probably not a good idea and handed Reg a mug. He sat down with his own and looked into the fire.

“And?”

“We went up there at New Year and stayed with them and then I went and met her in the summer, just for a day.”

“How old is she?”

“About my age or a little younger. She’s taking her school cert this year and hoping to get a scholarship to study music. She’s a real whiz at the cello.”


Rawson was a bit relieved to hear that the girl was planning to study. He remembered only too well the fuss when his older brother had got involved with a girl who had left school and he ended up failing his university exams. That had been a bad move as he then got called up for the army and, while he was away, she met someone else and got married. At least that didn’t sound likely in this case. He sipped his tea for a moment while he thought.

“So why did you suddenly get so upset? You were fine earlier in the term.”

Reg flushed again. “Christopher, Hanson I mean, guessed and he talked about ‘going sloppy’.” He paused and sipped his tea. “I suppose I didn’t like that ‘cos it made it seem cheap, and it’s not. She’s so nice and, once she goes to college, she’ll meet other people. It’s going to be so long and we’ll be old by the time we can marry, if we ever do.”

Rawson raised his eyebrows. “Marry? You’ve gone a long way for just three meetings. What does she say to that?”

“Oh, I didn’t ask her – I’m not that daft.”

“But you got as far as thinking about it.”

“Yes, I suppose so. We just seem to, I don’t know, fit somehow. She likes a lot of the things I do, she’s got a wicked sense of humour, she seems to understand me – she’s lovely.”

“Do you know many other girls?”


Reg thought for a minute. “Not many I suppose. Sybil and Peggy. I know them pretty well. They’re younger though – klds really. I think Sybil is thirteen and Peggy about fourteen.”

“H’mm. I really meant older girls, any you might feel, err, romantic about.”


Rawson was flushing now and kept his eyes on the fire. This was not easy. Having three brothers, he was no stranger to idle chat about the attractions of girls but he doubted Entwistle would appreciate anything in that line. In fact he seemed rather naïve about the whole thing. He recalled what he knew of Entwistle’s background – orphan, brought up by a great aunt in a village somewhere in the wilds of Yorkshire, at Polgarth thanks to a doctor who had taken him under his wing. He’d never hidden any of that, more power to his elbow, but it sounded as if he didn’t have any friends his own age or a bit older out of school – certainly none who could get him to lighten up about it. Presumably when he went to university, he’d get sorted out. If he didn’t get labelled a total prude and come in for a lot of teasing.

“Damn the whole thing!” he thought. “I didn’t have the experience to deal with this, it’s dashed embarrassing.”

“I suppose not.”
Said Reg, uncertainly. “I’ve not really had the chance.”

“So she’s the first girl you’ve met that you fancy and she’s not likely to want to settle down for a good long while.”

“I couldn’t afford to anyway, not till I’m qualified.”

“And not for a few years after that, I shouldn’t think. Junior doctors don’t earn that much. I should think it’ll be ten years or so from now when you can think of marrying. It’s a bit early to start tying yourself down.”


Reg looked obstinate.

Rawson held up his hand, forestalling Reg’s outburst of denial at the very idea that he might change his mind.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do but do about it. It’s not the sort of thing we talk about at school, probably because the staff think it will distract us from work and probably - I’m thinking on my feet here because I’d never really thought about it before - because some of the younger boys could get, well ‘smutty’ is the only word I can think of.” He took a deep breath.

“My father talked to me a few years ago. He said that the feelings you get for girls while you are growing up can be so strong that they can make you feel they are more important than anything. I didn’t understand it then but I do now and I think you do, too.”

They both flushed.

“He said they can make you take bad decisions and he said that when you get married it is for life, or so you hope, so you can’t afford to let just your, um, physical feelings get out of hand.”

There was silence for a few minutes and then Rawson spoke again, briskly

“Let’s shelve it for now. Think about what I’ve said but get back on track with your work. Now, tell me more about the San and what I should expect. I gather it’s not like a usual hospital.”

Reg, thankfully, turned to an easier topic and the next half hour was spent with Reg explaining more about the ward and the sorts of problems the boys had. As he left Rawson’s study, he paused. “Thanks.” He said.

Rawson clapped him on the shoulder. “Sort yourself out with Hanson tomorrow.”

“I will.”
Said Reg and set off for bed.

Author:  Emma A [ 19 May 2008, 17:51 ]
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Yay! Thanks, Patmac. Have to say, reading this, Jacynth sounds far more appropriate a partner than Len... Rawson was lovely there, so tactful, despite his own embarrassment.

Author:  Lesley [ 19 May 2008, 18:43 ]
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Rawson was lovely there - funny, but I can't see any of the Head Girls at the Chalet School having a similar converstion with one of their sub-prefects! :wink:

Wonder if Jacynth ever discovers she was considered as the future Mrs Entwhistle?


Thanks Pat.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 19 May 2008, 19:09 ]
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Great to see this back, Patmac, both the in-school and out of school elements. It will be interesting to see if Julian does manage to secure some of the Polish workers to help in the building work.

Rawson really handled that challenge exceptionally well - and he clearly got his point across to Reg without causing too much embarrassment for either of them.

Will look forward to more when you have chance.

Author:  PaulineS [ 19 May 2008, 19:37 ]
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Thanks for the update. The conversations were informative. Reg has plenty of time to fall for several girls before he is of an age to marry.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 19 May 2008, 19:41 ]
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Lovely to see this back, Patmac :D

Whole thing rather well handled by Rawson, as Elder says. I do hope Reg can sort things out with Christopher - they need to remember how much younger he is - he's been ahead of his age for his academic prowess, but still emotionally probably younger than his 'real' age, while Reg is probably emotionally more mature than his actual age. [if that isn't to convoluted a sentence :? ]

Author:  Jennie [ 19 May 2008, 20:46 ]
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Thaks, Patmac.

Author:  Anjali [ 20 May 2008, 02:57 ]
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Lovely to see this back, Patmac, and glad you had an exciting time on your trip!

Author:  Kathy_S [ 20 May 2008, 05:42 ]
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I'm also very, very pleased to see this back. :D

But, Pat -- perfectly safe on an ATV with steroids, but foiled by a curb? :roll: Hope it healed quickly!

not that my talents in falling over my own feet don't have even more dramatic consequences

Author:  M [ 20 May 2008, 19:41 ]
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Great to see this again, hope retirement gives lots of opportunities to write more installments.

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 21 May 2008, 19:04 ]
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Great to see this back, Patmac!

I do hope you heal quickly - my mother did something very similar in her own kitchen last year; the rug will never be the same again!

Author:  patmac [ 22 May 2008, 15:57 ]
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“These sausages are a real treat.” Clive laid down his fork and picked up his wine glass. “In fact it’s all delicious, Mary, but if you’d told me before the war that I would one day rave over sausages, I’d have laughed, not to mention drinking elderflower wine that’s every bit as good as some of the French ‘real’ ones.”

“They’re home grown, if that’s the right expression for keeping pigs. We save all the scraps that the chickens can’t eat and jointly own a pig. Pigs eat just about anything and Dorothy helps Mrs Newby when she’s butchering and we all get some meat. It’s called a Pig Club like they had during the nineteenth century. In fact, Dorothy made these sausages.”

“And all the vegetables come from our own garden.”
Julian added, proudly.

Clive looked at them with a twinkle in his eye. “That sounds like propaganda.”

“Well, we did discuss your phone call last night, as we were shutting the hens in for the night I might add. It was a lovely clear night as well. The garden by moonlight was beautiful.”
Mary looked innocent.

Clive burst out laughing. “You should be writing for the newspapers. Seriously though, we are hoping to move up here. We’ve several younger men now who are Junior Partners and champing at the bit. We’ve either got to let them buy more shares or lose them. That’s one reason and the other is that we will have a new baby next May, all being well. Beryl was brought up in the country and doesn’t want the children to grow up in London.”

“How do you feel about moving out into the country? I know Beryl has wanted it for a long while.” Julian asked after they had congratulated Clive on his news.

“Oh, I’m all for it. I enjoy the case work but being Senior Partner means I spend too much time managing the others. There’s a partnership in Northallerton up for sale. There’s just two partners and a few clerks and one of the partners wants to retire. I won’t earn as much, but we’ve enough set by to manage comfortably and the sale of our house will buy a much bigger one up here with plenty of land. Beryl is already talking of keeping horses, though where she will find the time, I can’t imagine. It’s not exactly a sudden decision. We’ve been looking at properties outside London for a while and came near to settling on one on the Essex and Hertfordshire border at Tye Green but the plans for one of these New Towns, Harlow, is out now and it will affect the area. There’s no point in moving out of London and into another big town. You know, London is fairly awful at the moment. There seems to be little being done to clear the bomb sites and we don’t even get the streets swept these days – there’s no money for it the Council says. It’s just so depressing.”

“Are you thinking of living in Northallerton or nearer here?”
Mary looked enquiringly at Clive, her dinner forgotten in her excitement at the news.

“As near Polgarth as we can. I can get the train to Northallerton each day. It’s probably not going to take any longer than getting across London. We’re not looking for a big house, certainly nothing like The Old Vicarage – by the way, are you going to continue calling it that? – four decent bedrooms would be plenty for us. It’s the land we’re interested in.”

“Anything you find round here will need quite a bit of work.”
Cautioned Julian.

Clive nodded. “I know. I saw these cottages when they were derelict, remember, and I’ve been reading your letters about the work on your new house. Given the problems you’ve had with getting labour, that could be a problem on timing. I’ll have to commit fairly soon, in fact I’m visiting Northallerton tomorrow to talk to Mr Meredith and, if it sounds feasible, I’ll be getting the due diligence going and making an offer. It will take a few months to get all the details ironed out at both ends though we’d like to move before Beryl is forced to take things easier – not that she did last time! We’d take something temporary till we could sort out our final home.”

Julian and Mary looked at one another. “Leave it with us for a day or so. We just might have a suggestion or two but we’ll have to talk to a few people to check them out.”

Clive grinned. “That’s what I hoped. I just trust your fees aren’t too steep.”

*

Mary tapped on Dorothy’s back door. “Come in, Mary.”

“How did you know it was me?”
Mary laughed.

“My psychic powers.” Said Dorothy, loftily, then spoiled the effect by giggling. “I recognised your rat-tat-tat-tat, of course. No one else knocks with the first bar of Beethoven’s Fifth! ‘Destiny knocking at your door’. What can I do for you?”

“Will you be in this afternoon after about four?”


Dorothy thought for a moment. “Yes, I can be. I’ll go into the village this morning instead of this afternoon and I’ll have the kettle on. Of course, I’ll spend the whole day wondering what you want to talk about.”

“Nothing earth shattering. In any case, how do you know it’s not just for the pleasure of your company?”

“Because you wouldn’t have bothered to check, you’d just have popped in. Now, shoo or you’ll be late for school.”


Mary gasped. “I didn’t realise it was that late! Thank goodness I’m at Chaucer this morning and it’s downhill all the way.”

With that, she disappeared and Dorothy heard her running to fetch her bicycle.

*

Reg took a deep breath and approached Hanson who was checking the table in the hall for post.

“I say, Hanson.” He said, in what he hoped was a casual voice. “Are you free at morning break?”

Hanson turned and looked at Reg. “Yes.” He said, equally casually, but with a break in his voice which betrayed his emotions.

“I’ll see you down by the playing fields, then?”

Both boys were conscious of other boys around them.

Hanson nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

*

“Are you feeling better? Matey says I can have ten minutes and no longer.” Gay came into the small room where Jacynth sat in a chair by the fire.

“Lots. I’m just so weak and wobbly.” Jacynth smiled at her friend.

“Well, you had it a lot worse than I did, so it’s not surprising. You really were an interesting shade of yellow!”

“You’re not so pretty yourself, even now!”
retorted Jacynth.

“At least I didn’t go delirious and rant and rave.” Gay said with a grin. “You had me a bit worried there.”

Jacynth flushed. “Err, what did I say?”

“Nothing particularly coherent, though you seemed to think you were on the dodgems with Reg at one point. I suppose that was because you felt dizzy.”

“Oh.”
Said Jacynth, flushing.

“I say, Jac.” Gay grasped her friend’s hand. “You rather like him, don’t you.”

“Yes, I really do.”
Jacynth looked seriously at her friend, tears in her eyes. She dashed them away and gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not like me.”

“Probably because you are still weak.”
Said Gay, sagely. “That can make you tearful.”

“Yes, Doctor.”
Jacynth replied in a feeble attempt at humour.

“Look, it’s none of my business but you will bear in mind what Ruth said about, you know, um, feelings and all that.” Gay went bright red, which combined rather badly with her still rather yellow skin.

“Yes, I’ll remember. I say Gay, blushing when you’re jaundiced makes you look all orange! Most peculiar.”

“Flatterer!”
Gay squeezed her friend’s hand and sat back. “Now let me tell you all that’s been going on while you’ve been lazing around.”

*

“Roll on, half term!” Mary took the cup of tea from Dorothy and sighed.

“Are the little darlings playing up?”

“Just high spirits really. I think the wind gets into their system and stirs up their blood! We’ve had so many gales the last few weeks, it’s not surprising.”


Dorothy laughed. “I had a letter from Jo and they’ve had them too. In fact the triplets couldn’t get to school some days. They’re going to board after half term, though where on earth the school will find space for them, I can’t imagine!”

“Jo won’t like that.”
Said Mary. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that with the kindergarten. We only plan it as a day school and I certainly wouldn’t like to have such little ones boarding.”

“I shouldn’t think it will come to that.”
Dorothy said, soothingly. “From what you said, they’ll have a shorter day than the main school and, if they do miss the odd day, it’s not the end of the world at that stage. I wonder, though,” she went on “perhaps you should have some folding beds and blankets on hand just in case we have some sudden snow.”

“We’ll have the folding beds anyway so they can have a rest after lunch. I’ll talk to Julian about it.”
Mary shrugged. “It’s only one more thing to think about after all!”

Dorothy laughed as she got up from the table to pick up Hilary who had managed to roll off the large rag rug. She placed her in the middle again on her tummy.

“She’ll be crawling soon.” Remarked Mary as she watched the baby push herself up onto hands and knees.

“She’s starting to already.” Said Dorothy and they watched as Hilary rocked back and forth and then started moving backwards.

“Backwards!” Mary exclaimed.

“Apparently, it’s not unusual – so Mrs Newby claims. The trouble is she finds rolling faster.”

“You’ll have to put her in a playpen soon or you’ll not have a minute’s peace of mind.”

“I’m borrowing one from Annie. She’s got a spare she used to lend out to mothers at her old church. It’s coming with the coal tomorrow,”

“Annie?”

“Annie Compton, you know, the new Vicar’s wife. I’m turning into a proper little housewife at the moment and I’ve joined the Mothers’ Union.”

“I really haven’t had time to get to know her.”
Mary said ruefully. “We’ve just been too busy for any socialising.”

“They’ve settled in really well and she’s got the village women well in hand for all the church work. She works really hard but she’s looking a lot better than she did when they first came.”

“So is Fred. The boys like him and his sermons are a lot more tuned to them. He even does a story from the bible and has the younger ones answering questions. It’s quite amusing sometimes!”


Dorothy giggled. “So Hugh says. I heard about Matthew the Tax Collector. ‘Does any one know what taxes are?’ ‘Cars you pay to ride in.’ I gather it brought the house down. I’m hoping to start coming up alternate weeks for the Sunday service soon. Helen has offered to have Hilary so I can attend.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“It certainly is. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

“Julian thought I should sound you out first before we go all official about it. We want to move into the Old Vicarage well before Easter. It will be a lot easier to get things done if we’re on site and looking after the cottage as well as working down there is beginning to get on our nerves – it always seems we need something that’s in the other house.”

“So you’ll want us to buy the cottages then? I can’t see a problem. Aunt Gertrude put the money in our bank account ages ago and it’s just invested. I’ll need to ask Hugh but I think we only have to give a month’s notice to get it out.”

“Have you thought about what you’ll do? Will you go straight ahead and combine them or will you let ours out.”

“We’ve talked about it, of course. In fact your timetable is more or less what we expected. We’d rather let it, we don’t need the space really at the moment. The problem will be finding tenants.”

“I might have the answer.”

Author:  abbeybufo [ 22 May 2008, 16:26 ]
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Lovely post Patmac - and lovely to get in first [if no one else is typing at the same time :D ]

Glad Reg has made a move with Hanson, and interesting to get Jac's side of things - everything else moving on nicely too - Thanks!

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 22 May 2008, 19:33 ]
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Thanks, Patmac - I love seeing elements from all the threads in the same post! All seems to be moving smoothly, thank goodness. It will be interesting to see the meeting between Hanson and Reg at break.

Author:  Anjali [ 23 May 2008, 01:48 ]
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Nice to catch up with Dorothy again, Patmac, and even better to be reading a Village Boy drabble 'live'! :lol:

Author:  Lesley [ 23 May 2008, 06:55 ]
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Missed this yesterday - lovely post - seeing things from so many different angles.

Thanks Pat.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 24 May 2008, 04:20 ]
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So much is going on!

Thank you, Pat.
*enjoying muchly*

Pleasantly surprised at the visit from Jacynth & Gay.
orange jaundice :mrgreen:

Author:  Nell [ 24 May 2008, 18:53 ]
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Lovely to see this and you back! Thanks patmac - hope you're enjoying retirement!

Author:  PaulineS [ 24 May 2008, 19:05 ]
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thanks for the update on so many sites at once.

Author:  patmac [ 27 May 2008, 09:14 ]
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“I’m home!” Hugh called as he hung his bicycle clips on the hook by the door.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” Dorothy’s muffled voice came from the cellar and Hugh crossed to the cellar door and called down the stairs. “Where’s Hilary?”

“Asleep upstairs. She didn’t sleep much this morning. Put the kettle on, love.”


A few minutes later as Hugh was pouring water into the teapot, Dorothy appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her gardening britches and an old sweater with patched elbows.

“I could do with a cuppa.” She said pulling out a stool and sitting at the kitchen table.

“What were you doing down there?”

“I dug some of the last potatoes today and I’ve put them downstairs to store. They’ll need brushing to get the mud off before they go into sacks but I wanted to get them out of the light as quickly as possible while they dry.”

“You should have left that for me. I’m off on Saturday.”

“It might not be fine on Saturday. Besides, there’s another two rows to dig yet so you won’t be deprived.”

“You’ve got some news.”
Hugh knew her too well.

“Darn it! I can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I. Yes, Mary came round this afternoon after school. They hope to move before Easter – how much before I don’t know but I’ll bet they are in over the Christmas holidays. You know how they hustle things once they’ve taken a decision.”

“So we have to make our minds up, pronto. Have you thought any more about whether you want to convert the cottages into one house?”

“I think we’ve discussed that to death. It would be lovely to have a big house but it would mean an awful lot of work and upheaval – I balk a bit at the idea of living here with Hilary so small while we have a staircase taken out and walls knocked down and, if we’re going to do it, I want it done right. I’d rather wait till we have a bit more money.”

“That’s fine by me. We can put away what we’re paying as rent now and save up to do it later. Of course, if we could let it, that would be even better. I really don’t want to be too dependant on Aunt Gertrude.”

“I know what you mean, though she doesn’t see it that way. She’ll get a lot of pleasure seeing us enjoy her money now rather than missing the fun if we don’t get it till she dies.”


Hugh shrugged. “I know. I suppose I just want to provide for my family myself.”

“You really are a caveman sometimes, Hugh! I can just see you hauling a woolly mammoth up the hill, protesting that you can manage and I should just stay safe in the cave.”


Hugh stood up and pounded his chest. “Me, Tarzan!” he proclaimed.

Dorothy cracked up and slopped tea down her sweater. “You don’t look anything like Johnny Weissmuller!” she exclaimed as she mopped the spill with a teacloth.

“Just as well. I’d be banging my head every time I went upstairs if I was as tall as he is supposed to be. Anyway, to get back to the subject, what do you think the chances are of us getting a tenant for Julian’s cottage? I wouldn’t want to rent it out to someone who wanted to stay forever. We’d be stuck then when we need more space.”

“That’s why Mary came round. She wanted to sound us out on letting it on a short term basis. Clive and Beryl, are planning to move up here and whatever they buy will need work doing on it but they’ve another baby on the way so they want to get up here fairly soon.”

“Really? That is good news. I like Clive, but what is he going to do for work? He’s a lawyer with a big practice in London.”

“I gather, though Mary didn’t want to say too much, that he’s got a chance to buy into a small practice not far from here. He’s missing doing the real lawyering, if that’s a word, and they want to live in the country. London is getting them down a bit. He even raved about the sausages at supper last night, she says. Rationing is still hitting them hard in the cities.”

“I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t want to move back down there, myself. So my little grey cells suggest that they might want to rent the cottage till they get somewhere else put into shape.”

“Got it in one, Hercule.”

“If you’re happy with it, tell them we’re willing.”

“I’m delighted. I’m going to miss Mary and Julian being next door.”

“So am I. I was a bit worried you might find it isolated now you’re not at work. Beryl will be at home with the new baby.”

“So far, so good and I’m enjoying it. In fact between Hilary, the garden, the Mother’s Union, helping Mrs Newby and the house, I wonder how I ever found time to work.”

“That’s settled then. I’ll speak to Julian about the timing of the sale – perhaps it could be Clive’s first job up here.”

“Good idea, it would keep it in the family so to speak.”

“Oh, by the way the inseparables seem to have sorted themselves out. I saw Entwistle and Hanson going into class today chatting away quite happily.”

“Good. It would have been sad to see them break up. Have you any idea what caused it?”
Dorothy said as she rinsed the cups.

“I don’t think anyone has. I know Eric was concerned about it. They’re both bright boys with high prospects and it was unsettling their whole form. Whether they know it or not, the Inseparables set the tone of the whole year.”

Dorothy looked thoughtful. “I wonder if it involved a girl. Reg is just about the age to get his first taste of raging romance.”

“Could be. There were those two girls they met on holiday last year, you know, the ones that turned out to be at your old school.”

“You know, that’s the one thing I don’t like about Polgarth. They don’t get any contact with girls of their own age so they can grow into it gradually. One minute girls are sissies who can’t play football and cricket and the next they are the centre of the universe. The main problem”
said Dorothy crisply, “is that they don’t get any advice on how to deal with growing up in that way.”

“I didn’t either, remember. Someday, you’ll have your dream of a co-educational school.”

“Someday! I can’t see it in my lifetime.”

“Come on, love.”
This was a recurring topic which Dorothy felt strongly about. “It’s started. The new Kindergarten will be co-ed and some girls will go on to Chaucer. It’s bound to make a difference.”

“I know, I know! I know all the arguments as well. ‘They would be distracted from their work’. ‘How do you police it to avoid problems like the girls getting into trouble’, translate that as pregnant, though Lord forbid such a word should pass the lips of the so proper powers of a Boys’ School. ‘You’d need twice as many dormitories to segregate them.’ I know all that but It doesn’t mean I have to like it though!”
She shook herself and gave a little laugh. “Sorry. It’s a hobby horse of mine, isn’t it.”

*

Not one to let the grass grow under his feet, Julian cycled into the village the next morning to talk to Mr Thompson. Propping his bicycle against a nearby lamp post he entered the bakery, sniffing appreciatively at the inviting smell.

Mrs Thompson bustled through from the back when she heard the bell and beamed at him.

“Your mother in law isn’t working this morning, Sir Julian. I expect she’s at home if you want to see her.”

“I came to see you and your husband, actually. I’ll call in on Mum afterwards for a few minutes.”

“Ah, you’ve come on business then. Come on through, the kettle’s on.”

“The kettle’s always on, I think.”
Said Julian with a smile as he followed her through the door at the back. “You know, just coming in here makes me feel about twelve again. I used to dream of your sticky buns when I was up at Oxford.”

Mrs Thompson laughed and pulled out a stool for him. “I can take a hint. They’re hot, though.”

“All the better.”
He grinned like the schoolboy he had been when he first got to know the motherly woman who had filled a big gap in his life and she bustled around pouring tea and setting a plate with two buns in front of him while he greeted her husband.

“What are you hatching now?” she said, sitting down near the door to the shop.

“Me, hatching something? Whatever gave you that idea?”

Mrs Thompson snorted. “I’ve known you a long while.”

“I’ve come to sound you out about something. You know we’ve had problems with getting building workers. Well, Mr Borrows came up with an idea. There are lots of Polish and other nationalities, some of them men who fought in the war and can’t go home because they’d be sent to Siberia. A lot of them are living in the old POW camps and they’re looking for work.”

“So you’re wondering about bringing some of them here?”


Julian held up his hand. “Only thinking about it at the moment. I’d want to be sure it didn’t cause problems and that we could find lodgings for them in the first instance.”

“Are you thinking they might settle here?”

“I hadn’t quite got that far. We’ve enough work up at Polgarth to give about ten men work for the next two years at least. I expect some of them would move on when they found better jobs. Mr Borrows says some of them held good jobs in their own country.”

“It wouldn’t be taking jobs from our own people.”
Mrs Thompson said, thoughtfully. “I know you’ve been offering over the going rate and can’t get the men, even then.”

Julian nodded. “The young men seem to want to live in the cities.”

“And with this National Service carrying on, they’re still off to the army just when they are coming into their real strength for heavier work. I can’t see it being much of a problem. What exactly are you worried about?”

“Just that this is a small village and most people come from local families. How would they take to foreigners living here? I’d hate to cause trouble for them or for you locals.”

“There’d be a few who would turn their noses up, but they’d face that anywhere. It’d only be the same to most folk as people moving in from Northallerton, according to some people, they’ve got a different way of speaking.

Most people would accept them, though. So long as they were quite clear that they weren’t taking jobs from the local lads.”
Said Mr Thompson.

“We’re only really talking about labouring!” Mrs Thompson replied. “It’s not as if they are taking skilled jobs.”

Mr Thompson shook his head. “You don’t know that. They may have trades we need and, if they decide to make their homes here, they’ll find other jobs when the work at Polgarth is finished. They may even bring friends here and we could end up with a goodly number. Look at us. Since Ned got promoted to Sergeant and signed on again, we’ve looked for a likely lad to help with the heavier work and even with Martha helping, we’ll need help within the next few years. If word got back to the camp that we couldn’t get someone to learn the baking, what’s the betting that one of them would be willing – there might even be someone there who had been a baker back at home.”

“You’ve got a point. Some of them have families over here who escaped at the start of the war. They’d want them to come if they were here for a couple of years at least. That would mean more children at the school and they’d want proper homes, not just lodgings.”
Julian said.

Mr Thompson crossed to the big oven and slid out a tray of loaves as he spoke. “We could do with a few younger folk about. There’s even talk of closing the Village School because we haven’t enough children coming along to keep it going.”

Julian pulled out a notebook and pencil. “Who should I talk to? I’ll get in touch with Mr Borrows and see if he knows if this is happening anywhere else. We might get some pointers that way.”

“I’d keep it a bit quiet at the moment. You don’t want to stir anyone up when it’s only an idea. You’ll need to talk to Father Mulcahey, though.”

“So I will. I hadn’t thought about them being Roman Catholics. He may be able to find lodgings for them. Who else?”

“Do you need to bring them all at once?”
Mrs Thompson asked. “Everyone knows you’ve been looking for men as far away as Leeds. If you just employed three or four to start with, people would get used to the idea and, if they didn’t settle, you wouldn’t have made a song and dance about it.”

Julian put his notebook away and stood up. “I’ll do it that way, it’s much better. Now I must get over to see Mum for a few minutes and then it’s back to the school and my real job. Thanks for your help, I’m glad I came to see you first.”

“Bless the lad!”
said Mrs Thompson as the shop door closed. “He’s always up to something!”

Author:  Anjali [ 27 May 2008, 10:54 ]
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Yay, great new update! And :lol: at being the first to see it!
Thanks Patmac, wonderful to see Hugh & Dorothy again; and glad that the Inseparables worked out their problems...

Author:  Isabel [ 27 May 2008, 12:44 ]
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I've spent the last week reading Village Boy from the very beginning, Patmac, and I am absolutely amazed! It's brilliant! And the way you manage to keep up with all the different characters is very impressive - much better than EBD :D

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 27 May 2008, 13:32 ]
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Trust Julian to explore the possibility of employing people from the camp from all angles before going any further. I'm most impressed by the way he has thought about this, and the open way he has consulted the Thompsons - and will take heed of all they advise. The discussion between Hugh and Dorothy about the other cottage was excellent too - another couple who think things through before acting. And it's good to learn that the 'Inseparables' have sorted out their differences.

Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  Lesley [ 27 May 2008, 17:09 ]
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All of it was wonderful - thanks Pat. :lol:

Author:  PaulineS [ 27 May 2008, 17:58 ]
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Thanks Patmac for a lovely detailed update.

Glad Reg and Hanson have sorted out their problems.

Author:  Nell [ 27 May 2008, 18:24 ]
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Thank you Pat, another lovely update.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 27 May 2008, 20:25 ]
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Thanks Patmac - glad Reg and Christopher have sorted themselves out, and good that Julian is approaching the Polish question so sensitively :D

Author:  Elbee [ 28 May 2008, 16:16 ]
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Thanks for some lovely long updates. It will be interesting to see the Polish workers coming to Polgarth.

Author:  patmac [ 30 May 2008, 10:08 ]
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The weeks slipped by. Half Term came and went in what seemed moments and the school settled back into work and the added excitement of the preparations for Christmas. As Dorothy had predicted, Mary and Julian decided to concentrate on getting moved in to the Old Vicarage over Christmas and put everything else on hold, pending the arrival of three young men from the Camp at Rowlands Ghyll who were expected in early December.

More than anything else though, the next few weeks were dominated by ‘Wedding Fever’ as John Wheeler called it. Princess Elizabeth, the King’s older daughter was to be married to a young Naval Lieutenant on November 20th and the whole country had seized the opportunity to celebrate after the long years of struggle and despite some controversy over her choice of husband. Philip Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glucksberg, Prince of Greece and Denmark had, earlier in the year, renounced his titles and become plain Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, a naturalized British subject – though by the time of the wedding he was elevated to a Duke of the realm as befitted the husband of the heir presumptive to the throne.

The engagement had been announced early in July and the news that they had fallen in love at first sight when the Princess was only thirteen and he was a Naval Cadet of eighteen only added to the romantic aura of the occasion.

Inevitably, Polgarth – village and school – seized the opportunity for a party, helped by the fact that all schools were given a Public Holiday in celebration. There was some concern about the possibility of bad weather, especially as there had been some early snow on the hills but almost everyone shrugged off the possibility – as Tom said, they’d all been wet before.

Rather considerately, the wedding was held at 11.30 am, giving several hours of daylight for events afterwards. A wireless was installed in the school kitchen for the occasion so that the myriad of helpers who were preparing food for the party could listen to the wedding.

Most of the Sixth Form, including Reg, were raising the big marquee with help from some of the men from the village and yet others were setting up folding chairs and tables on the big lawn in front of the house. The coal cart arrived, laden with chairs and tables from the Church Hall. Once the wedding was over, a stream of people began arriving from the village and the food was brought out and placed on big serving tables in the marquee.

“I’m glad we haven’t got to supervise this meal.” Said Hanson, surveying the long lines collecting plates loaded with food from the big marquee and settling in informal groups around the lawn.

Copley grinned. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one telling Mr Hopkins he can’t have beer with his lunch. I’ve a feeling my vocabulary might be extended.” He pointed to where Tom and a few of his friends were producing stone bottles from a crate and handing them round the nearby tables.

“Perhaps it’s just lemonade.” Davis and Reg had come up quietly behind the two boys and they jumped before laughing.

“And perhaps you’re not hungry.” Hanson teased the two taller boys who were both noted for their appetites.

“Pax! That was a low blow.” Davis laughed. “In fact, now you mention it . . “.

*

“That was good!” Hanson laid back on the grass and closed his eyes.

“It was more than good.” Dixon retorted. “I don’t think I’ll ever need to eat again.”

Hanson opened one eye. “We’ve seen so little of you this term, I almost jump when you say something.”

Dixon groaned. “I’ve had extra this, extra that and even extra the other. I had to change track completely once I got sorted on what I want to do after school.”

Hanson sat up abruptly. “I wasn’t complaining but we’ve missed you. Speaking as a friend, I think you need to loosen up a little. You’ll run yourself into the ground if you keep working as hard as you do. You’re marks are really good – you must realise that.”

Dixon looked embarrassed. “I know. Mr Douglas hauled me over the coals about it yesterday. It’s just . . . oh, I don’t know. I worry about it.”

“I don’t think you’ve any need to. I know you’ve had a lot to catch up on but you’ve done really well.”

“Leave it, Hanson.”
Said Reg. “If Mr Douglas has spoken to you, Dixon, you can be sure the authorities won’t let you overwork. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy a free day, even if half of it was wasted on a posh wedding. Let’s go up the hill on our own for once. We can come down later for the singing and dancing.”

“Don’t complain about the wedding. We’d not have had a day off or the party food but for that. I could wheedle some more food out of Mrs Newby.”
Hanson got to his feet. “I’ll do my ‘poor delicate little lad’ act, she falls for it every time.” He quivered his lower lip.

“If you don’t get in to Oxford, you could go on the stage.” Copley exclaimed between guffaws.

Dixon looked thoughtful. “Miss Gregory is over there as well. She’s got a soft spot for me since I started visiting Mr Wilson. She seems to think they don’t feed us at school.”

“She must be blind then!”
Reg said as he leapt to his feet. “You look well fed to me! I’ll try for Mrs Thompson, she’s always saying I need to put some weight on – even if Mr Thompson winks at me behind her back.”

“Better not all go at once.”
Cautioned Copley, getting into the spirit of the thing. “You get yours, Hanson, and set off up the hill. “We’ll follow one at a time – and don’t forget to get some lemonade or, better still, ginger beer if there’s any left.”

Hanson set off to the big tables, making a beeline for Mrs Newby and carrying his empty plate and mug.

*

Hugh nudged Dorothy who was listening to something Mary was saying.

“Watch the inseparables.” He murmured. “They’re up to something.”

Dorothy turned to look and laughed. “Hanson does pathetic better than anyone I know.”

She, in her turn, nudged Helen. “Watch the inseparables. Pass it on.”

By the time Reg approached Mrs Thompson, most of the staff and quite a few of their friends from the village were watching out of the corner of their eyes and trying not to laugh out loud.

“Does that remind you of anything?” Mr Thompson leaned across to Julian.

“It looks as if I’ve got a rival for your wife’s affections.” Julian replied with feigned displeasure. “Does anyone care to wager I can’t do as well?”

“Not me.”
Mr Thompson replied. “You’ve had more experience than young Entwistle.”

“Prove it!”
Mary challenged.

Julian groaned. “You’ll all have to help eat it. I’m pogged, as they say round here. Can’t waste good food.”

“Huh!”
Mary retorted, between giggles. “Fish or cut bait.”

Julian stood up, his plate in his hand. “We’ll see about that.”

*

The Inseparables looked at their loaded plates with pretended dismay.

“That was” Reg muttered “rather more successful than I expected.”

“We don’t have to be back down there for a while. Don’t panic, It will all work out.”
Said Copley, uncertainly.

“Let’s ignore it for the moment. I’m sure we’ll get hungry again soon.” Hanson sounded uncertain.

“We’re all together again, apart from MacDonald and Fourakis, I wish they were here. Let’s just carpe diem.” Dixon’s contribution of the old Latin tag caused general hilarity and they toasted absent friends in the best ginger beer in the world.

*

“Good day, dear?” Mr Thompson wound up the alarm clock and climbed into the big feather bed beside his wife.

“Very good. Before you start to go on about how I was taken in by young Entwistle and Roper, I’ll tell you I saw you getting second helpings from Mrs Garbutt.”

“Go one with you! I was only doing Tom a favour. He was too shy to go up for himself.”


Mrs Thompson put her feet on his legs.

“Ow! Your feet are like ice.”

“Serve you right!”


*

“You look downright smug.”

John puffed contentedly on his pipe and held up his whisky glass in salute.

“You don’t look exactly disgruntled yourself, Eric. In fact, Cheshire cat comes to mind when I look at you.”

Dr Cartwright lay back in his armchair and contemplated the golden liquid in his glass. “I know it’s tempting fate to be too pleased with the way things are going but they do seem to be going in the right direction. We’ve had another successful celebration with school and village joining together.”

“True. I noticed how the whispers went round when the Inseparables were pulling their stunt for second helpings. It wasn’t confined to the staff. Half the village was laughing as well.”

“They like that group of boys, they’ve no side and are always willing. Did you see Father Mulcahey talking to Fred Compton as well.”


John looked pleased. “I missed that. Any idea what they were talking about?”

Eric beamed. “I’m guessing but I think it was about Julian’s idea of hiring Polish workers.”

“Any idea of how it worked out?”

“So far as I could see, it was quite amicable.”

“Good. Divisions on religious grounds can be as nasty as any racial ones and tipping the balance is always a dicey thing. If those two are willing to pull together in spite of what their respective Bishops may think, we’ve got a head start if we do end up with an influx of off-comers.”

“Father Mulcahey was a chaplain in the last war and served in Europe. Fred was over there through the latest war so he’s seen a thing or too. We can leave them to sort out any problems in the village. They’re calling them the First and Second World Wars now, you know.”

“Just so long as we don’t have a third.”


Eric shuddered. “Amen to that.”

*

Reg snuggled down under his blankets and turned on his side. The dormitory was quiet apart from the occasional snore from one of the younger boys. He watched the stars through his window as he sorted his impressions of the day.

It had been fun to play at being young again. Sitting on the old log, even on a chilly November day had been like old times. They had all joked and laughed till they nearly cried. If MacDonald and Fourakis had been there it would have been perfect. At least MacDonald sounded happy, his letters full of tinkering with his beloved valves and coils, interspersed with descriptions of rugby matches.

Fourakis’ last letter had sounded different though. Part of it had been a rant about the injustices he saw in Greece and he had hinted that, as soon as he was old enough, he would be taking a hand in trying to right them. Reg had found it disturbing. It hadn’t been posted in Greece, either. It had a Maltese stamp and postmark. Hanson had wondered if they had censors in Greece.

Auntie Jo’s letter said that Dr Jem and his wife were off to Canada in the spring with Josette and Ailie but leaving Sybil and David at school in England. It still seemed strange that they would do that, even if it was to avoid interrupting their education. After all, there were schools in Canada they could have gone to if they felt it was that important. In any case, they weren’t going for long. They were taking Margot as well. He knew she had been really ill with bronchitis and Dr Jack was concerned that the damp Welsh climate was not helping her. Auntie Jo didn’t sound too happy about it.

Anyway, he would see Sybil during the Christmas holidays, he might see Peggy and Rix as well. Auntie’s latest letter had said they would stay home for Christmas but he could travel down on his own in the New Year, provided the weather held. That would be the best of both worlds, everyone should be in their own home at Christmas.

At last they had finally heard why Gay hadn’t written. Jaundice, of all things and Jac had been quite ill. He wished he had known, though Hanson had, very sensibly, pointed out that he couldn’t have done anything and called him a worrit. Still, it wasn’t nice knowing that he didn’t know, he thought, in sleepy incoherence.

His eyes started to shut and he thought of what Jac had said about wanting everyone she cared about to stay close. Dimly, as he drifted off, he wondered if she was right. It would be nice in some ways but there would be no adventures. After all, if he had stayed in Garnham, he wouldn’t have known any of his friends, except Joe. He wouldn’t have met Jac, come to that.

He wished he could sail again. He thought of sailing on the sea. That would be wonderful. The foam creaming along the bow, the creaking of the rigging, the feel of power as the boat responded to the rudder. He tried to see Jacynth in the boat with him but she didn’t quite fit. She was overshadowed by a laughing girl with chestnut waves, her hair flowing free who looked familiar somehow.

*

A laughing girl with chestnut curls
Heart of my heart, life of my life.
The road will be long, it may be hard
But I will wait, my life, my wife.

Wait I must, for you are young.
Too young to see where life will go.
I too am young, have things to do.
But time will pass, we both will grow.

We’ll grow and learn, become good friends,
Know each other through and through.
The basis for a life of love
I’ll sail the seas of life with you

When the day comes, and come it will,
We’ll show our love for all to see.
Some folk will say she is too young
But we will have the sea, the sea.

The sea of life, it can be rough,
There will be sorrows it is true.
But we will weather all the storms,
I swear I will be true to you

Your strength will hold us to our course
My lodestone you will be, and more.
Though some will never know the truth,
‘Tis you will bring us safe to shore.

When we grow old and passions cool,
(Though we believe they never will)
A deeper love will hold us firm
And draw homeward to the hills.

Our years spent growing then will reap
A dividend of friendship still
Resting in each others love
And we will have the hills, the hills.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 30 May 2008, 10:19 ]
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Patmac that was lovely - great to see the inseparables having a session on the old log - even though there are only 4 of the 6 left at school. And what a powerful ending - superb poem :D
Thank you.

Author:  Lesley [ 30 May 2008, 10:57 ]
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Chestnut hair, eh? Well that's pretty obvious then. Love the poem.


Wonderful episode, Pat - interweaving the Royal Wedding, possible religius tensions and the problems in Greece with the laughter and love in the School and village.

Thank you

Author:  PaulineS [ 30 May 2008, 12:44 ]
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thanks Patmac.
Love the idea of the chaplins being the first and scond world war to the village.
Interested in Reg thinking of a ginger haired girl rather than Jac.

Good to have news of all the inseperables and liked the idea of every one watching the four get their second helpings.

Author:  Alex [ 30 May 2008, 13:44 ]
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I realised we must be about due for the royal wedding the other day as someone gave my housemate this bizarre book, which simply consists of all the presents given to the happy couple and the names of the people who gave them. I think my favourite I've seen so far (there are thousands, so it's just a book to dip into reall) is that the ingredients for the wedding cake were given by the Girl Guides of Australia. They seemed to get quite a lot of stockings and umbrellas which was rather odd.

Thanks Pat.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 30 May 2008, 14:24 ]
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That was all lovely, Patmac - in particular seeing the way the remaining 'inseparables' were clearly enjoyng themselves together - I giggled madly over the way they got their second helpings of food. I also enjoyed seeing the way 'town and gown' came together to enjoy the wedding celebration - something which bodes well for the future.

And you brought back memories of my own day off school for that wedding - and listening to it in our kitchen at home via an old-fashioned radio loudspeaker in the shape of a horn! Does anyone else remember those? I think HMV used a similar image, along with their little dog, on their record labels.

Author:  M [ 30 May 2008, 21:00 ]
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I think Reg will probably think of Sybil rather than Len from that poem. At this stage the age gap between him and Len is still quite significant whilst Sybil is only about 2 years younger than him.

Author:  Sugar [ 30 May 2008, 21:27 ]
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Thanks Patmac - reading Reg's thoughts on Jacynth is making me think I ought to finish my drabble!

Author:  Anjali [ 31 May 2008, 09:07 ]
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Lovely poem Patmac, thanks.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 31 May 2008, 13:30 ]
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I enjoyed that so much Patmac, especially the way in which the various strands are interwoven. It's clear that life is changing so much for everyone, and will continue to do so. I do hope Fourakis will manage to stay safe.....

Author:  Kathy_S [ 01 Jun 2008, 03:57 ]
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Thank you, Pat. :)

I love the sweep of this drabble. And the detail!

Author:  patmac [ 02 Jun 2008, 15:58 ]
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This is the point where EBDisms start to affect some ages and various other happenings. In this universe, Madge and Jem go to Canada in 1948.

The story of the Polish workers is partly based on some who lived in my home town after the war. One of my mother’s younger friends married one – though how they did their courting, I’ve no idea as his English was very poor. The ones who came to Polgarth would have come from Hamsterley Hall Camp or possibly from Windlestone Hall (home of Sir Anthony Eden) in the North East. Some of the camps were not closed until 1957.

If anyone is interested in the subject, here are some links.

here
and here
and again here



“If petrol rationing doesn’t ease up soon, we’ll never get out of the valley again.” Julian complained. “It’s a long old journey up to Richmond when you’ve got to rely on trains and buses.”

He and Hugh were spending a rare free evening sitting by the fire in Dorothy’s pretty parlour while their wives and Mary’s mother got a start on the Christmas baking in the kitchen.

“How is Mrs Collins getting home tonight?” Hugh asked.

“She’s staying over and then walking down to Home Farm in the morning. They’ve cattle to go to market so she’ll go down in the lorry. Beryl is talking of getting a pony and trap when she moves up here. She’s horse mad anyway but it might not be a bad idea. I don’t mind cycling but you can’t carry much on a bike.”

Hugh shuddered. “You’ll not get me near one of those great brutes. They’ve got big teeth.”

“Townie!”
Julian scoffed. “I’m not talking of a great big cart horse, just a pony about twelve hands or so.”

“You’re going all technical on me now.”
Hugh whined. “How big is a hand?”

“Four inches – and before you ask, you measure to the shoulder.”

“Four feet, then – plus the head. I suppose the teeth might be a bit smaller as well.”
Hugh grimaced. “I think I’ll stick with my bike.”

“I suppose you could hitch a trailer to your bike.”

“There was a bicycling club used to meet down near the docks before the war. Some of them had trailers for their children. Come to think of it, there were sidecars as well – real ones like motor bike sidecars. I might look into getting a trailer, perhaps Tom could knock one up for me. It would certainly cut my time in getting up to Polgarth in the morning when I’ve too much to carry on the bike. Have you got lodgings sorted out for the Polish chaps?”

“As a temporary measure, they’re staying with some of Father Mulcahey’s parishioners. The trouble is they’ve next to no English.”

“Dorothy says the way to learn a language is by being plunged in at the deep end.”


Julian laughed. “In that case they’ll learn to speak with a Yorkshire accent. I’d like to help it along a little if we could set something up and they’ll need to learn to read and write it as well. The trouble is everyone is so busy. I don’t suppose Dorothy could find time to help out?”

Hugh looked doubtful. “She could hardly teach with Hilary around and I don’t know if she’d have time anyway. You could ask her, I know she misses teaching and it’s right up her street. She’d probably end up adding Polish to her repertoire, knowing her.”

“I’ll have a word with her. We’re planning on moving some of our stuff down at the weekend. Mary’s got it into her head to spend Christmas Day in the new house. I don’t know how we’ll get it done in time but you know how she is when she gets set on something.”

“Now, there’s the pot calling the kettle black! You’ve five days after the end of term with Christmas being on a Thursday, I reckon you’ll do it. We can give you a hand, if you like. Provided I don’t have to drive the cart!”


*

“We’ll never be ready for the Carol Service.” Daley moaned as he, Reg and Hanson walked across from Choir practice. “I thought Mr Reed was going to have apoplexy this morning.”

“I expect they say that every year, there’s another week yet. Don’t they say a bad rehearsal means a good performance?”
Hanson was matter of fact about it. “Forget it for now. We’ve got the staff panto to look forward to tonight.”

“So we have.”
Daley cheered up. “How did I forget that?”

“They say old age affects your memory.”
Hanson said, deadpan.

There was a moment’s silence and then Daley and Reg burst out laughing.

“You little toad!” exclaimed Daley. “I’ll get you for that!”

“Consider me quivering with fear.”
Said Hanson, “See?” and shook to demonstrate.

“Give it up.” Suggested Reg. “You’ll never get the best of Hanson – and I’m speaking from experience.”

Linking arms, the three boys continued towards the main house.

*

“Helen, there’s spare nappies in this bag and she takes a whole rusk now with her supper. Don’t forget to check the temperature of the milk before you give her a bottle.”

Helen turned her firmly towards the door. “I know what to do. I’m a trained children’s nurse, remember, I’ve done it before. Just get off and organise that crazy mob out there. Hilary and I will be fine.”

Dorothy turned back, not convinced and Helen took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake.

“Do you want Hilary to grow up believing she can’t do things she has a talent for just because she has children?”

Dorothy shook her head.

“Then get out there, show them! Let me do what I am good at while you show them what could be. Otherwise, you’ll never do it – and Hilary may have to choose between children and a career.”

Dorothy took a deep breath. “I know you’re right. I just didn’t realise how hard it would be to leave her when it came to it. All right. I’m off.”

She turned to leave the room and Helen called to her as she turned into the corridor.

“Dorothy.”

Dorothy turned to face her, her face knotted with worry.

“Break a leg!”

As Dorothy entered the staffroom where the members of her cast were milling around, her face was still wreathed with smiles and, and seeing her confident face, the staff became less tense. After all, if the producer was smiling all must be well.

*

“Do you speak English?” Dorothy asked the bewildered looking young men who stood slightly outside the general throng, clutching plates and glasses as if they were lifebelts.

“A little.” Answered one of them, after a glance at his companions.

“Sprechen sie Deutsch?”

“Better than English, though my friends speak less.”
He replied in quite good German, though with a strange accent to Dorothy’s ears. “If you don’t mind speaking that language?” he added a little uncertainly.

Dorothy beamed at them. “Not at all. Not all Germans supported the Nazis and we try to remember that. I speak English, German, French and Italian. I would like to learn Polish, could you teach me?” she said, slipping into German with relief.

The young man smiled. “If you teach us English, we could do so.”

“I would be grateful. It will be a lot of hard work for all of us. Are you willing?”


The young man spoke rapidly to his companions and Dorothy was surprised to find she understood a few words. They nodded vigorously and the first man bowed formally, a gesture Dorothy recognised from her time in Austria.

“We would be very grateful if you could do this.”

“Then let us arrange it. My name is Dorothy Douglas and I am the wife of one of the teachers here. I was teaching languages in the school till I had a baby earlier this year. Are you going back to your families for Christmas?”


As soon as she said it, Dorothy realised she had said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry. I did not think for a moment. This valley has lost some young men but at least we have our homes. Would you honour my husband and I by joining us on Christmas day for dinner?”

Dorothy ignored a momentary pang that Hilary’s first Christmas would be invaded by strangers, though she knew Hugh and her parents would support her decision. She felt a touch on her shoulder and Hugh stood by her side.

The three young men looked at Hugh with wide eyes. They obviously recognised his horrific injuries for what they were and all three bowed politely.

Hugh, as Dorothy knew he would, despite the embarrassment he always felt when anyone recognised the origin of his ruined face, smiled his crooked smile.

“Do introduce me to our new friends.”

Dorothy was faced with a dilemma. Hugh’s German was less than adequate and the Polish youths’ English was next to non-existent. Suppressing a sigh, she smiled and carried on in German.

“This is my husband, Herr Douglas. He teaches English and History at the school but he has little German and no Polish. He has asked to be introduced to you and I have not even asked your names! Help me, please.”

The young man who had been acting as go-between smiled. “I had not thought that it would work both ways! You are going to be busy with your languages, I think, Frau Douglas. I am Jerzi and my friends are Jan and Stefan. Will you please tell your husband that I will leave the second names till he has time to learn to pronounce them. They are not easy for the English tongue.”

Although Hugh only understood a few words of the rapidly spoken German, he caught the names.

“I am named Hugh Douglas.” He said in passable, if rather stilted, German. “Welcome, Jerzi, Jan, Stefan.” He shook hands with each of them and then turned to Dorothy and switched to English. “We’ve some boys who speak quite good German, how about introducing a few?”

Dorothy looked round and saw Reg passing nearby with a loaded plate.

“Excuse me.” She said quickly and walked across to intercept him, leaving Hugh to manage as best he could.

“Will you bring the others over, please. We’ve three Polish lads here who have come to work on The Old Vicarage. They’ve virtually no English but they do speak German, at least one does but the others seem too shy to even try. If you could help keep the conversation going, it might make them feel more at home.”

Reg grinned down at her. “If you’re sure they’re ready to meet Hanson. You know what a question mark he is.”

“You’d better warn him! I’ve already put my foot in it once. They’ve no families over here, live in a Displaced Persons Camp and are here because the Russians have taken over their homeland.”


Reg whistled, softly. “You hear about that sort of thing, but meeting people in that situation makes it seem more real. Just give me two ticks to round them up.”

By the time, the Inseparables had been introduced and Dorothy had explained the strange English custom of calling schoolboys by their surnames only, the three young men looked more relaxed. Hearing boys not that far from their own age speak a language they understood was certainly helping.

The Inseparables were by no means truly bilingual and hadn’t reached the stage of thinking in German but they were more than willing to try and, with some consultation over difficult words and a fair amount of miming, the group was soon chatting away.

Hugh took Dorothy’s arm and led her quietly away. “They’ll be all right now. Let’s leave them to it.”

A few minutes later Dorothy chuckled and caught Hugh’s attention from a conversation between Fred Compton and Eric and gestured. They all turned and saw one of the cooks loading plates and beaming at the Polish lads who had accompanied the Inseparables in their endless quest for food.

Author:  Jennie [ 02 Jun 2008, 16:09 ]
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Another magnificent episode, Patmac. Thanks.

Author:  PaulineS [ 02 Jun 2008, 16:57 ]
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Quote:
They all turned and saw one of the cooks loading plates and beaming at the Polish lads who had accompanied the Inseparables in their endless quest for food.

Glad thre Inseparables were making sure the young men got fed.

Author:  claireM [ 02 Jun 2008, 17:25 ]
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Thanks Pat, enjoying this.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 02 Jun 2008, 17:35 ]
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Lovely episode Patmac, see the inseperables are already 'corrupting' the Polish youths :lol:

Thank you.

Author:  Lesley [ 02 Jun 2008, 20:00 ]
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Perfect way to broaden the horizons, both of Reg and co and the Polish lads. Thought Dorothy was very sweet inviting them to Christmas lunch.


Thanks Pat.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 02 Jun 2008, 20:29 ]
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Another great episode - and how wise Dorothy was to involve the 'inseparables' there - I'm sure the young Polish workers felt far more comfortable with boys closer to their own age than with the adults, however helpful and well-meaning those adults were. I love the way you show the benefit of at least some of them, adults as well as boys, being able to speak at least a little German as a means of breaking the ice i na common language, even if none of them speak it as their first one.

Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  Sugar [ 02 Jun 2008, 21:21 ]
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My Grandfather was in a DP camp in Market Harborough for 3 years, in the late 40's which I think was the minimum you could spend there before he moved away. No idea how my grandparents courted either as his English was minimal and Nan had the broadest black country accent! It's a wonder they ever understood each other!

Great post Patmac!

Author:  Anjali [ 03 Jun 2008, 02:29 ]
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Thank you Patmac, it's amazing how much and how often you update this!

Author:  patmac [ 05 Jun 2008, 09:24 ]
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Thanks for all the comments, much appreciated.

Dorothy stood up and popped Hilary in the play pen. “Now who can that be?” she asked the baby who babbled in reply. Hurrying into the hall, she checked that her hair was tidy and opened the door.

“Father! How nice to see you, do come in.”

Father Mulcahey took off his hat as he entered and Dorothy took it from him and put it on the hall table.

“If you’ll hang your coat on a peg, I’ll make a cup of tea. You must be ready for one after coming all the way up from the village. I hope you don’t mind sitting in the kitchen? It’s the warmest place in the winter.”

She suddenly realised she was prattling in her surprise at seeing the Catholic Priest and stopped.

Father Mulcahey gave a little laugh. “It’s all right, Mrs Douglas. I’ve not come to convert you and Mr Compton knows I’m here.”

“I didn’t really think you were, Father! I was just surprised to see you. Come through.”

“What can I do for you?”
Dorothy asked when he had admired Hilary and they were sitting by the range with big mugs of tea. “I assume it’s in connection with Jerzi, Jan and Stefan?”

“It is, indeed. I believe you are going to teach them English.”

“To some extent, yes, especially for reading and writing it. Mostly, they will learn to speak it by living and working with English people but I hope to build on that and using German, which we all speak, to translate for them when they get into difficulties. We’ve also introduced them to some of the Sixth Form who speak at least some German. They’re nearer in age so that should help with some things they wouldn’t want to ask me. It’s a good deal for us as the boys’ German will improve and they are getting to know people from a different culture.”


Father Mulcahey nodded. “Sir Julian told me about that. Stefan used to live on a farm and one of your boys has taken him up to Home Farm and showed him round.”

“I didn’t know that!”
Dorothy explained, looking pleased. “That would be Reg Entwistle, I expect, he comes from a farming village.”

“My problem is that they are in my spiritual care and I don’t have any language in common with them. They come to Mass, of course, and that is no problem as it is in Latin and familiar to them but beyond shaking their hands at the Church door and hoping they understand that I’m pleased to see them, I’m stuck. I’m not even here much.”

“It must be difficult covering several villages. I’d not really thought about that aspect of your work. I expect you are wondering how to deal with Confession. I can hardly come with them and translate for that. Let me think a minute.”


They sipped their tea in silence and then Dorothy spoke again.

“As I understand Confession, the sins are actually confessed to God with the Priest acting as intermediary?”

“That’s right. I see you know something of us.”

“I was at school in Austria for two years. Lots of the girls were Roman Catholics and I went to Mass several times with friends and we discussed the differences in our beliefs. Does it matter if the Priest doesn’t understand? After all, God does and, again as I’ve gleaned from Catholic friends, you can give absolution to someone in Viaticum, even if they can’t speak.”


Father Mulcahey looked thunderstruck. “Why didn’t I think of that!”

“I expect it would have come to you, you were just too close to the problem. If I explain it to them and they are happy with it, would you accept that as a compromise for the moment? I’ll write down the German for the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary so you can give them a simple penance. To be honest, I can’t see them committing any mortal sins for you to worry about. They’re just too busy trying to fit in to get the chance.”

“If they are happy with it, I’ll be more easy in my mind about them, they haven’t taken Communion. There’s one other thing. Could you, perhaps help them with reading this? He pulled a duplicated sheet of paper from his pocket. It’s what we grandly call our Parish Magazine. We can’t get the paper to do a proper one these days and we can only print a few but I saved one in case you could help. I don’t know if they will really want to read it but at least I will have tried.”


Dorothy looked pleased. “Just the sort of thing I want! They need reading matter that is relevant to them to keep their interest. So far we’ve covered the football pages in the newspaper, reading the labels on tins and packages and converting measurements so they can understand our silly system. They need that if they’re to progress beyond being labourers.”

*

“I’m not quite sure how we are going to fit everyone in round the table. We’ll all have to keep our elbows well tucked in.” Dorothy was telling Mary about Father Mulcahey’s visit as she helped her pack her best china for the move to the new house and had mentioned that the three Polish boys were to come to the cottage for Christmas dinner.

“I feel guilty at not thinking of that myself. There’ll only be Julian, Mum and me rattling round the Old Vicarage. Would you like me to offer to have them instead?”

Dorothy shook her head. “If Ed Clark or one of the other language teachers was staying over Christmas, it might work but, as it is, I’m the only person around with enough German to act as translator and they’ll need that to make them feel comfortable. In any case, I’ve invited them now – they might think they were being palmed off on you, and that would never do.”

“I wonder . . . “
Mary hesitated. “Be honest when you answer, Dorothy. Would you consider sharing Christmas Day with us? We’ll have stacks of room and now the range is in and working we’ll have no problems with cooking. We’re having more or less the same dinner.” She laughed. “We’ve no choice really since all the vegetable seeds were sown together for both gardens. There is actually room for two chickens in the new range.”

“I’ll have to talk to Hugh. We’d planned on a quiet time with Mum and Dad but that’s gone out of the window now anyway. Not that I regret it, mind. Hugh had a pretty lonely time after his mother died and his home disappeared into a crater. He knows what it feels like to be homeless.”

“You talk to Hugh and I’ll talk to Julian. I know he’ll agree but I’ll ask anyway. When are your parents arriving?”

“On the Tuesday and they’re staying till after New Year so we’ll have plenty of time with them. I’ve a sneaky suspicion they are going to tell us that Dad is retiring completely soon. He’s only fifty five but his injuries have taken their toll on his health. I know Mum worries.”

“That’s good. Gertrude is coming for the New Year so she’ll see them, too. Perhaps when he takes things easier, he’ll feel better. Have you suggested they consider moving nearer after he retires? You know how my Mum got a new lease of life after she moved here.”

“I’ve thought about it and Mum and I have skirted round the subject a bit. I don’t want them to think I’ll put on them for baby-sitting.”

“Oh, come on!” Mary exclaimed. “I’ve seen your Mum with Hilary. She’d love to be with her more.”

“I expect you’re right. According to Aunt Gertrude, I’m too darned independent for my own good.”

“Think about it.”

“I will.”


*

“Just the Carol Service tomorrow and then the next day it’s home for Christmas.” Hanson shut his locker with a slam after cramming the last of his books into it.

“Yes, thank goodness, I thought we were busy last year but it was a doddle compared with this year. Dad is meeting me in London so we can go Christmas shopping together. We’re going to my Grandparents for Christmas and goodness knows what we’ll get them, they’ve got everything and then spares, they don’t smoke or drink and they don’t even read except newspapers and magazines. If we’re not careful, we’ll end up getting Granddad yet another scarf and some chocolates for Gran – luckily Dad doesn’t use his sweet ration.”

“Poor Copley! At least you should get a rest. What are you getting your Dad?”

“A book, I expect. We’re going to Foyles so I can choose a book for Christmas and I expect he’ll see one he likes as well. What about you, Entwistle?”
he added as Reg came into the Common Room loaded with books.

“What about me?”

“Are you staying home for Christmas and do you know what you are getting Auntie?”

“Yes to both. I’m in funds for once because I got money for my birthday from Uncle Jack. She has a lovely bone china tea-set – you know the one, Hanson – and it doesn’t have a sugar bowl so I’m hoping to get one in a big shop in Leeds.

Auntie has sent me money to choose a book on the way home so I’ll go up to Mrs Douglas’s Dad’s shop. There might be a new Arthur Ransome by now and, if not, I’ll get another book about birds. Where’s Dixon? He’ll be late for tea if he doesn’t hurry up.”

“He got called to the study. I don’t know why, so don’t ask. He gave me his books to put away and rushed off.”

“At least he’s not likely to be in trouble. I don’t suppose it’s anything important, something to do with the Juniors I expect. He’s probably gone straight to the Refectory.”


*

“The Head wants to see all the Prefects in the Study.” Rawson stuck his head into the Sixth Form Common Room and shouted over the general noise.

“What, now?” Atkins scrambled under his chair to recover his tie.

“Yes, if not sooner. We need to be at supper in thirty minutes, so get a move on, you lot.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Muttered Reg as they joined the general rush for the door, some pulling on blazers and others running combs through their hair.

“Me, too. Dixon never came to tea.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I hope he’s all right.”


The Prefects entered the study in something like reasonable order to find Dixon already there, looking rather pale. The Head waited till they were all in the room and then stood up.

“I’ll be announcing this at Prayers tonight but I wanted you to know beforehand. Mr Wilson died this afternoon. You all know he was frail even before he retired.
Dr Ward says he had a heart attack and died in his sleep, he went peacefully.

I don’t think the boys farther down the school will be very upset – to them he was just an old man and he never taught them – but I’d like you to watch out for anyone who is disturbed and do what you can or ask for help from the staff.”


There was silence for a moment and then Rawson asked the question they were all thinking.

“What about his funeral, Sir. I presume it will be while we are away and that seems rather sad. It’s Christmas next week as well.”

Eric nodded. “Fortunately, he was seeing Dr Ward and so he has already signed the Death Certificate. We’ve set everything in motion and the funeral will be held quietly on Monday, some of the staff are staying on for it. Then when you all come back, We will hold a Memorial Service in the Chapel. We’ll hold it the first Sunday of term. Dixon suggested it. Mr Wilson was popular in the Village and we will combine our services for that day.”

Dixon straightened his back as all eyes turned to him. “He was here a long while, even before Dr Cartwright came and I don’t expect I was the only boy he helped. It just doesn’t seem right to let him just, sort of, disappear.”

Several boys still looked shocked and, to most people’s surprise, Davis, the burly Games Prefect, spoke up in support.

“I nearly messed up completely in Lower Fifth. If it hadn’t been for Mr Wilson, I probably wouldn’t be here now. I think it’s a good idea to have a Service for him.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“Mr Compton has agreed to lead a prayer for him in the Carol Service tomorrow but no more. You boys are old enough to understand that he really was ready to go. He was tired and hated the fact that he got confused sometimes. The younger boys probably won’t understand that and we don’t want to cast a shadow on their Christmas. It was different with Billy’s death.”

Dr Cartwright’s eyes went to Reg and then scanned round the group.

“That was a tragedy and I don’t think there was a boy in the school who didn’t feel upset about it so we needed to give an outlet to that grief and try to give his death some meaning - which we were able to do through words, music and the symbol of the kite. This is different. If any of the boys are upset, stress that he was old and tired and ready to meet his Lord.”

Davis nodded. “I can accept that. I just wish I’d been down to see him this term.”

The boys all left for supper, looking unusually serious, the other three Inseparables clustering round Dixon, not knowing what to say.

“Meet us after prayers?” Reg made it a question.

Dixon nodded and bit his lip.

*

“I’m staying till after the funeral.” Dixon said almost defiantly. “Dr Cartwright let me call my parents and they agreed.”

“What time is it?”
Reg asked.

“Two o’clock.”

“I could get over and back easily by train.”

“Really?”


Reg nodded. “I’d like to.”

Hanson and Copley looked thoughtful.

“My Dad knew him. I wonder if the Head would let me phone him. I think he would come up for it and we could travel home together.”

“I could phone home as well. I’m sure Ma will agree to let me stay on.” Hanson stood up and beckoned to Copley. “Let’s go and ask now.”

Author:  Alex [ 05 Jun 2008, 10:28 ]
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Thanks Pat. I hope you are enjoying your retirement as much as we all are!

Author:  Emma A [ 05 Jun 2008, 13:19 ]
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This is lovely, Patmac - I'm so impressed by the way you have so many different threads running through this story, and the humanity of the characters.

I was already impressed by the vast amount you'd already written about Reg et alia when you weren't retired! Certainly we won't mind keeping up to date.

Author:  Jennie [ 05 Jun 2008, 13:20 ]
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Thanks, Pat. The history in this is so easy to understand, it's great.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 05 Jun 2008, 13:33 ]
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So many developments in your universe here, Patmac. I love Dorothy's practical suggestions to Father Mulcahey - trust an objective 'outsider' to see the solution which he was failing to think of. I'm looking forward to being a fly on the wall if she and her family and their guests do combine with Julian and Mary to enjoy Christmas Dinner - should be a very lively time all round.

As for Mr. Wilson's death - the Head is probably right in thinking few of the younger boys will be particularly affected. I don't think Davis will be the only one of the older ones to recall how much Mr. Wilson helped him, though. I'm also impressed (though not surprised) to see how quickly the inseparables are looking to change their travel arrangements and stay on for his funeral.

Thank you as always.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 05 Jun 2008, 19:44 ]
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Thanks Patmac; a very sensitive post - good that the inseperables can all stay for the funeral - and good to see all the various Christmas arrangements coming together and the beginning of the integration of Stefan, Jerzi & Jan into the community.

Author:  Lesley [ 05 Jun 2008, 20:05 ]
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Feel very sorry for Dixon - it doesn't matter how much you are told that someone was ready to go, you still miss them and have regrets. :cry:

Love Dorothy's solution for the RC Father.


Thanks Pat.

Author:  Sugar [ 06 Jun 2008, 00:04 ]
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Nice to see the priest trying to include the polish lads more and the discussions about christmas. Feeling sorry for Dixon though.

Thanks Patmac

Author:  Kathy_S [ 08 Jun 2008, 04:32 ]
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*sniffles*
Thank you, Pat. That was beautifully handled.

The previous post reminded me of the story of Maria and the Hungarian confessor in Story of the Trapp Family Singers. She ends up answering "habeo" or "non habeo" to a Latin laundry list of possible sins, "definitely not correct Latin, but accepted by God in His representative." Somehow I think Dorothy's advice is more practical!

Author:  patmac [ 09 Jun 2008, 15:00 ]
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“So we’ve got eleven boys staying on for the weekend.” Eric explained as he and John waited to enter the Chapel in the traditional Procession at the start of the Carol Service. “Copley and Hanson are really staying to support Dixon and Entwistle is coming back for the day but the others all have a reason for remembering Mr Wilson. Copley’s father is coming up as well. We had to restrict it to the Sixth Form or we’d have had more. I was quite surprised and a little humbled to learn that he was so well thought of.”

“We tend to remember his later years when he was getting frail and couldn’t find the words he wanted. I can’t be sad that he’s gone because he knew he was confused. That’s the one thing I would hate, losing the ability to communicate my thoughts properly. Ah! Everyone is in line now. Here we go.”


*

It seemed strange seeing the tall figure of Mr Compton leading the procession down the aisle at the start of the service and Dixon felt a pang at the realisation that Mr Wilson would never walk down the aisle again.

As the well known words of the Bidding Prayer began he remembered what Mr Wilson had said when he was so troubled after Billy’s death.

“I’d have been more worried about you if you hadn’t been upset – it would have meant you didn’t love Billy as a person.”

It was all right to feel grief. Mrs Douglas had come up to see him before the Service and they had walked in the watery sunshine, Hilary in the pram, and he had been surprised to hear that she would miss his friend as well. They had talked about him and laughed a little over some of his frailties and shed a few tears as they laughed.

She had quoted part of the poem Reg had read last year for Billy.

“Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the trace of a shadow in it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
it is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity,
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?”


And he had finished it.

”I am waiting for you
somewhere very near
just around the corner.
All is well.”


He hoped he could live as Mr Wilson had and if he could help one person as much as Mr Wilson had helped him, that would be enough. His “Amen” came out louder and stronger than he expected and he joined in the rest of the Service with a good heart.

Reg was relieved to hear Dixon’s response. He remembered how he had felt when Mr Akroyd had died and, despite knowing that he was ready to go, he had felt the loss and grieved for the old man.

The familiar service moved on and his eyes went to the small kite suspended beside the Star of Bethlehem over the Manger. Grief did fade, he knew now, though memories lingered. He remembered Billy’s face as he had flown his kite for a few brief minutes – the one and only time he had done so. With a rush of emotion, he realised that the pain of loss was worth the joy of love.

Embarrassed by his own thoughts, he stood straight and sang out in the final Carol.

”Good Christian men rejoice
With heart and soul and voice!
Give ye heed to what we say
News! News!
Jesus Christ is born today!
Ox and ass before Him bow
And He is in the manger now
Christ is born today!
Christ is born today!

Good Christian men, rejoice
With heart and soul and voice
Now ye hear of endless bliss
Joy! Joy!
Jesus Christ was born for this
He hath ope'd the heav'nly door
And man is blessed evermore
Christ was born for this
Christ was born for this

Good Christian men, rejoice
With heart and soul and voice
Now ye need not fear the grave:
Peace! Peace!
Jesus Christ was born to save
Calls you one and calls you all
To gain His everlasting hall
Christ was born to save
Christ was born to save.”


*

“You don’t mind if I go over on Monday, do you?”

Reg had stopped off in Leeds to do his Christmas shopping and arrived home loaded as usual with his case and several bags. Since then, he had hardly paused for breath in his account of the term.

“Of course not! You should be there with your friends. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned Mr Wilson before. Did you have much to do with him.”

“Not really, in fact we used to joke about him because he was always losing things or ending up in the wrong place because he couldn’t remember where he should be. I’m sorry about that now because it turns out he helped a lot of boys and no one ever knew. From Dr Cartwright’s face when Davis said he nearly flunked out in Lower Fifth, I don’t think even the Head knew.”

“He sounds a good man.”

“Yes.”
Said Reg, thoughtfully. “He does.”

*

“Well, we’re in.” Mary surveyed the boxes and piles scattered round the new sitting room and sighed. “How did we collect so much stuff?”

“A lot of it is books. Let’s just get them onto the shelves and we can sort them after Christmas. Then I can get the boxes into a spare room and we’ll be able to see what else needs doing.”

“Good idea. Dorothy and Hugh are bringing a packed lunch for all of us so I can concentrate on getting the kitchen sorted.”

“How are they getting here?”

“Mr Newby. He is bringing down the last things out of the shed so he’ll give them a lift on the cart.”
Mary carried a pile of books across to the far shelves as she spoke.

*

“My goodness, you have done a lot already.” Dorothy followed Hugh into the sitting room carrying Hilary. Hugh set down the small Windsor chair he was carrying and Dorothy knelt to sit Hilary in and fasten the straps. She pulled the tray round to the front, clipped it in place and fished in her bag for a rattle and a small knitted lamb and placed them on the tray.

“You just sit still and watch, young lady. We don’t want to be tripping over you every five minutes.”

She stood up and turned to face the others. “What’s first?”

Everyone looked at Mary for instructions.

“Dorothy, I’ve put the bedding out in the spare room. Could you make that up for me, please. Don’t bother about things like putting out ornaments. Just pile the boxes in a corner and Mum can set them out tomorrow. It’ll be her room as much as anyone’s I expect so she might as well have it as she wants it.”

“Shall we get the empty boxes out of the way?”
Julian asked.

“Yes, please. I suggest we store them in one of the rooms in the other wing for now. I’ll finish putting the last things away in the kitchen. Most of that was done yesterday so it’s only the things we used last night and this morning and brought down in the car. Then I think we’d better get the rest of the books out so we can get this room straight and clear the rest of the boxes. Shall I take Hilary with me?”

“If you don’t mind. She’ll get bored with nothing to watch and the last thing any of us wants is a screaming baby. I’d quite like her to stay awake till after lunch now, then she’ll hopefully sleep through the funeral.”

“Up we go!”
Hugh picked up the chair with Hilary still in it and led the way through to the kitchen.

“I think near the range, it’s warmer there. I’ll talk to her while I work. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Ma’am!”
Hugh saluted Mary with a grin and went to join Julian.

“If we can get all these boxes across to the other wing, we’ll store them in the first room over there for now. I don’t want to take them down yet till the workmen have finished the cloakrooms and the school kitchen. Then we’ll put all the stuff Mr Newby brought down in one of the stables.”

“I brought a change of clothes and so did Dorothy so we’ll be able to go straight from here to the funeral.”

“We’ll take the car down. I got some petrol this week and it will be worth it to get us all down there quickly.”

“I hoped you’d offer. I’m trying to save what petrol we’ve got for while Mum and Dad are here. Dorothy is determined to go and Hilary is getting to be a weight to carry now. John is going to ask one of his climbing friends if he still has the baby carrier he used when his children were small. It would make quite a difference.”


*

“I’ll carry that case, Hanson, I can hear the train.” Reg picked up the case and strode out onto the platform. The luggage for the boys who stayed on for the weekend had been loaded onto the milk cart on the Monday morning and left in Mr Shuttleworth’s care at the station. Copley’s father had travelled up on the Sunday and stayed at the school overnight so was travelling with them down to London immediately after Mr Wilson had been interred in the little Churchyard behind the Village Church.

It was a subdued party of twelve boys and Mr Copley who boarded the train and they had to split into two compartments. Mr Copley listened as the boys talked quietly. He wished he had got to know his son’s friends better but the war had stopped the large parties of boys who had shared his holidays – as it had laid waste to so many other things, his wife and daughter among them.

Youth was resilient, though. If the boys he had met today were a fair sample of the rising generation, there was hope that all was not lost. They seemed more serious than he had been at their age, though perhaps that was partly the occasion. He knew that three of the four were already sure where their futures lay. Thinking back, he didn’t think his own peers had been so focussed. Ernest had still not decided but he was not worried. There was time for that. First there would be University and, according to the school, he would have no trouble getting into wherever he chose. Then there was the prospect of National Service. He had several years to make up his mind. Perhaps he ought to have a chat with him, though.

Author:  PaulineS [ 09 Jun 2008, 15:33 ]
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Thank you PatMac for another lovely post. I came on to post and had a supprise to find this waiting.
I think I have got first read and post as well.

Author:  Sugar [ 09 Jun 2008, 15:41 ]
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Lovely Patmac Thank you!

Author:  Jennie [ 09 Jun 2008, 15:57 ]
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Thanks, Patmac. Lovely.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 09 Jun 2008, 16:12 ]
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Thanks Patmac. Just got back from my appointment to the pleasure of this :D

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 09 Jun 2008, 16:27 ]
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Just lovely once again, Patmac - I came on the Board to see if there were any new posts before getting on with some work, and found both this and Pauline's - a lovely Monday morning treat from you both.

I do love the way you interweave all the threads of your story, so we learn something about each one in each of your episodes - it just adds so much to the enjoyment. By the way, do you know the author of that poem which Reg had read to Billy, please?

Will look forward to the next update.

Author:  Lesley [ 09 Jun 2008, 18:56 ]
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Thank you Pat - another wonderful episode.

Author:  M [ 09 Jun 2008, 18:58 ]
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This is still one of my favourites. Very moving writing about Mr Wilson's funeral. Will Reg have to do National Service as a military doctor once he qualifies or would he have to do it before he goes to medical school?

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 18 Jun 2008, 14:50 ]
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Just caught up with this after a long gap. Thanks, Patmac.

Author:  patmac [ 18 Jun 2008, 19:05 ]
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The author of the poem was Henry Scott-Holland, a Canon of St Paul's. He died in 1918 but the poem is still read at funerals.

Reg's National Service will have to be done at some point and I know when and where - but it's taking a lot of research at the moment.


“Have you taken on any staff yet?” Beryl asked as she admired the new classrooms. She and Clive had come up for the weekend after Christmas, leaving their little boy with one of Clive’s sisters. Beryl wanted to see what furniture they could fit into the cottage and what would have to go into store and Clive was riding round the area on Hugh’s bicycle looking at possible houses.

“We’ve adverts with the agencies and we’ll be interviewing in the Easter holidays, that will give time for anyone to give a term’s notice. We only need two people straight away, you know. We’ve ten children whose parents have expressed an interest so far so we’ll only start with two classes. We’re going to have a few lessons taught by Chaucer staff as well. That way, the move up there at eight will be easier.”

“I wasn’t thinking of the school, though I wouldn’t be surprised if you get more children once word gets round. I was thinking of household staff.”


Mary looked blank. “I just thought I’d have a couple of women from the village in early each morning to clean the classrooms. I can cook the lunches myself to start with.”

Beryl shook her head. “It won’t do, Mary. This is a big house and there’s no way you can deal with it all yourself. If you want to make a go of the school, you’ll just have to hand over the household chores to someone else. Even cooking the lunches yourself is a bad idea. Your staff will need a break at lunch time and the children will still need supervising. It won’t look good if a prospective parent phones to be told the Head is cooking lunch either.”

She looked anxiously at Mary. “Sorry if I’m treading on a sore toe with your principles but you can’t run a business without working all hours and I don’t expect Julian works exactly Union hours either.”

“Beryl’s right.”
Said Dorothy who had come down for tea.

Mary flashed her a hurt look. “Et tu Bruté!” she exclaimed and then sighed, ruefully. “I suppose this is why married women don’t get very far in their careers.”

“I’ve already told Clive I want help when the new baby arrives. He’s going to be off early every day to work and I’m going to be left organising the work on the new house – when we find one, of course. Can you imagine the respect I shall get from the builders if I’ve got a babe in my arms and one hanging on to my skirt?”


Dorothy giggled. “They’ll be patting you on the head and expecting you to burst into tears when something goes wrong.”

“Exactly! It’s the same for you, Mary. You’ve got to behave like the Head if you want to be respected. You know, the school will be judged by you and it won’t give a good impression if you are tired all the time.”


Mary held up her hands in surrender. “You win. I guess I hadn’t thought it through far enough. What do you suggest?”

“Start off by getting a couple of women who could work all day. They can do upstairs and the stairs and hallways in the morning, help with the milk at break time, cook, serve and clear lunch – that will mean cleaning the kitchen afterwards – then they can have a break and clean the cloakrooms and classrooms after school has finished. You can refine it later if the school gets bigger or it turns out to be too much for them.”

“I’m tired just thinking of all that.”

“But you were planning on doing it all, weren’t you?”

“I’ll talk to Mum and Mrs Thompson. They’ll probably know the right people to ask.”

“You’re learning.”
Said Beryl with an approving look. “I thought for a minute you were going to say you’d ask Julian.”

“Not much point.”
Mary laughed at the idea. “He’ll just say it’s a good idea. Do you want to see the garden?”

“I’d rather sit down if you don’t mind. This baby is making me much more tired than Harry did. Don’t tell Clive, he’ll start fussing and I want to get this move over. I’m determined this baby will be born up here. If it’s a boy, he’ll be able to play cricket for Yorkshire.”

“Hugh seemed to think I’d be an invalid for nine months.”
Dorothy laughed as they went slowly up the wide, shallow stairs.

“Clive’s not that bad. He’s the eldest of six so he knows better. I’ll confess to you that I’ve pushed this move as fast as possible, though.” She paused as she reached the top of the stairs and turned to face the other two women. “I don’t know where things are going but if they get much worse the country will be in real trouble. The bacon ration is 2 ounces now – a fortnight! It was 4 ounces a week during the war. We can only buy a shillings worth of meat a week. Eggs aren’t rationed now.” She laughed bitterly. “They’re just not in the shops. Even with my extra rations we’re eating poorly. We haven’t even room to grow vegetables, the garden is just a courtyard. Honestly, I can understand people buying on the black market. I’d be tempted myself but it could cost Clive his career if I was caught.”

Dorothy looked shocked. “That sounds awful. I suppose between the chickens and the pig club, we provide a lot of our own main meals but there are always rabbits and at least some meat in the butchers.”

“We help one another as well.”
Mary added. “I was a bit bothered at first that we seem to be bending the rationing laws but Julian explained it to me. There’s a man in the village, for instance, who can’t eat solid food. He gets extra milk and eggs and his share of the meat ration goes to a family with a whole load of children. Everyone who can keeps chickens and some even keep rabbits or ducks and we make sure no one goes short.”

“You can do that here. You may not know what everyone in the village is short of but I’ll bet you know who to talk to if you’ve got a surplus you want to share.”


Dorothy nodded. “It works. Mrs Newby hunted out a big jam pan for me and I’m welcome to pick some of their apples in return for plums.”

“And we saved our sugar and Dorothy made our jam now she’s at home.”

“I’m going to like it here.”
Said Beryl, decisively. “It’s that sort of life I want for my children.”

*

“I approve.”
Said Gertrude as she took a seat in Mary and Julian’s sitting room. “It’s a good use of the space.”

“Well, that’s a load off my mind.” Said Julian. “I’ve been tossing and turning at night while I waited for your approval.”

“Oh, you!”
Gertrude stuck her tongue out at him. “You know what I mean. Tell me all your news. Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Yes, very good. A bit busier than we expected, though. Mary wrote and told you about the Polish lads who’ve come to help with the building work?”

“Yes. How are you managing for languages? Polish isn’t exactly easy to learn.”

“Dorothy has taken them on. They speak some German and somehow she’s teaching them English via German. They’re keen and asked if they could work a bit longer each day so they could have a couple of hours of lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We ended up with them here for Christmas Day with Dorothy, Hugh, Dorothy’s parents and Mary’s Mum. It was quite a party.

“And Hilary. Don’t forget her.”

“No, they left her in her cot with a bottle.”


Gertrude laughed. “You are on form today.”

“Things are going well – touch wood, cross fingers and anything else you can think of. Jerzi and his two friends are really good workers and we should make good progress this term. We’re considering having a few more of the Polish workers as the weather improves. Beryl and Clive are moving into our old cottage pro tem and renting it from Dorothy and Hugh. They’re going to buy somewhere but whatever they buy will need work so they’ll be there for a while. Beryl is good for Mary. She’s persuaded her to get help in the house and that’s a subject I didn’t dare broach.”

“She’ll be company for Dorothy as well.”

“Hugh had better watch out. She’s very modern in her outlook.”

“Oh, I don’t think you need worry. It’s Dorothy who’s the traditionalist in that house and she’s not that old fashioned! Hugh will stand on the touchline and cheer them on.”


Julian laughed. “He’s certainly made my job easier. He’d kicked the school into gear before I moved up here.”

*

“I’ll walk down with you, Mrs Hatcherd.”

Anne turned and smiled as Mary came hurrying down the track. ”I didn’t hear you coming, Mary, I was miles away.”

“I hope it was somewhere good.”
Mary said as she linked arms with the older woman. “Or at least warmer! Is Dorothy coming down?”

“She’ll be down a little later. She’s got those nice young Polish men up at the cottage having an English lesson.”

Oh, yes. I forgot it was Tuesday. I never thought of them wanting lessons in the holiday but they just assumed they would carry on.”

“Hugh has popped down to Chaucer to see John Wheeler so Grandpa is in charge of Hilary. He really loves having time with her.”

“Is he any nearer to retiring?”

“Yes. We were talking to Hugh and Dorothy about it last night. He’ll finish at Easter. His brother has come up with the rest of the money, though I think he’ll find it a struggle to repay the Bank.”

“That’s good. He’ll be able to take life a bit easier. Have you any plans?”

“Not really. I expect we’ll come over here more often and Albert will spend a lot more time with his vegetables.”

“Have you thought of moving over here?”
Mary asked, casually.

“We’ve talked about it but I don’t want to intrude on Dorothy and Hugh. They’ve made their lives now and I wouldn’t want to think they had to make time for us.”

“It’s worked for my Mum. You know she lives in the village and works at the bakery, part time. She’s so busy I have to make an appointment to see her. In fact, that’s why she’s not coming up today. She’d already committed to a meeting at the Vicarage – that’s the new one! Oh, dear, we’re just going to have to find a new name for our house, it’s too confusing. Why don’t you talk to Dorothy? She might be delighted at the idea. She often says she wishes she saw more of you.”

“I’ll try and get her on her own and see what she thinks.”

“Do that. Who knows, she might be afraid of suggesting it in case you think she just wants a baby sitter.”

Author:  Sugar [ 18 Jun 2008, 19:14 ]
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Fantastic Patmac. I love the little details : :)

Author:  Lesley [ 18 Jun 2008, 19:19 ]
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It's so lovely seeing it all come together! Proper planning of a community - it's great, isn't it Pat?


Thank you.

Author:  Anjali [ 19 Jun 2008, 01:41 ]
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That was a great update Patmac, thanks!
Reading 'Village Boy' always puts me in a warm, feel-good mood - especially that last update.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 19 Jun 2008, 15:59 ]
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Nice to see Gertrude again.... and Beryl is clearly going to add to the community... and....no point in repeating the whole post, but thank you. :)

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 21 Jun 2008, 14:38 ]
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Thanks, Patmac! I do love this series.

Author:  patmac [ 21 Jun 2008, 16:16 ]
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This next post has elements of another divergence from the EBD universe. According to EBD, Jo was only told of the decision to send Margot to Canada at the last minute! That wasn't possible in the real world as it is highly unlikely that she had a passport - not many people did in those days, especially children. Most of the ships going to Canada in 1948 were still carrying warbrides and soldiers being demobbed and so were well booked up, to the point where they had bunks in the ballroom (oh, to what byways research leads :roll: ). This means that there must have been some long term planning involved. I know EBD mentions the sore throats in the second half of the spring term as being a reason for deciding to send Margot but the logisitics just don't work.


“I will change Hilary and walk down to The Old Vicarage with you.” Said Dorothy in slow and careful English.

Jerzi, Jan and Stefan looked puzzled.

“How will she become different?” Jan asked.

Dorothy switched to German. “English uses ‘change’ in many ways. In this case, I will take off her dirty nappy and put on a clean one. What I am changing is her nappy but I used a short way of saying it, it is a matter of the context. I’ll explain more as we walk down.”

She picked Hilary up and, with a smile, left the three sitting at the kitchen table.

“We’ll never learn this mad language.” Jan clutched his head as he switched back into his native tongue.

“We’ll have to if we are going to live here.” Jerzi said, with determination. “Come on, Stefan. We already speak two languages and that is more than most of these people do. We have a great opportunity here. We could still be living in the Camp.”

“I like it here and I will make the effort. Perhaps we could get jobs here when the building is finished.”

“For you, Stefan, maybe there would be work on a farm but I wanted to teach. There is no chance of that in England and I don’t know what I will do.”
Jan looked dejected.

“First we must learn English well. Nothing is possible till then.” Jerzi sighed. “But, cheer up! These people are welcoming and will do everything they can to help us. Frau Douglas is teaching us with no charge and Sir Julian is a good employer to let us have the time for lessons.”

“It is true. It will be good when the schoolboys come back and we can see them again, even if they do seem rather young for their age. The one they call Entwistle”
Stefan stumbled over the name, “is from a farming village and it sounds not so different from my home. He is teaching me some of the English words I would need for farming.”

“They seem young because they have not suffered as we Poles have, they are lucky, they still have their homes and families.”
Jan was feeling very gloomy.

“Not so badly, maybe, but they have lost family. Copley’s mother and sister were killed by bombs, Herr Douglas must have suffered terribly and Herr Hatcherd lost an arm. They have lost many people as well.” Jerzi who was twenty two, felt responsible for the younger two.

“I know. I am not wishing they had suffered more, I am just having – what do they call it? – ‘a grouch’. It is nothing a big bowl of Pierogi wouldn’t put right.”

At the reference to the small white dumplings from their homeland all the boys laughed.

“Filled with cheese and potatoes!”

“No, sauerkraut with mushrooms!”


When Dorothy came downstairs with Hilary, they were all laughing and set off for the Old Vicarage in good spirits.

*

Reg set off to see the Maynards on the second of January. It had taken some juggling to fit the visit with everyone’s commitments and he would have to travel back on the Monday as school re-opened on Wednesday the seventh. Still, two days was better than nothing. Experience had taught him to take a familiar book on the journey rather than a new one and he pulled out N or M? from his knapsack and debated whether to eat a sandwich. Deciding that an apple would do for now, he settled down to read, looking out of the window from time to time to see how far along the train had travelled.

By the time they had passed Birmingham, he could wait no longer for his sandwiches and put his book away and tucked into the doorsteps filled with cheese and pickle.

It had been a good Christmas on the whole, he thought, his eyes following the passing countryside. He’d managed to get up to High Royd and spent a day with Joe. They’d walked all the way up the moors above the farm and found shelter from the wind behind a wall near the top to eat their lunch. Joe seemed happy and he only left the farm when he had to go to Garnley for Mr Ormerod or came down to see his Mum and Dad once a week.

Reg was surprised to hear that one of Joe’s sisters had passed a scholarship and went to the Girls’ High School in Garnley. He was even more surprised that Joe had stood up for her when their Dad didn’t want her to ‘get above herself’’.

“She’s a bit like you.” Joe had explained. “Our Daisy always has her nose in a book when she gets the chance. She’s right clever with numbers as well and I remembered how unhappy you were at the idea of working on a farm all the time.”

“I thought you didn’t have time for ‘book learning’?”

“That was for me. All I ever wanted to do was be outside with the animals but, even here, things are changing, Reg. Mr Ormerod sets great store by the modern ideas and it pays off. We took a nasty set back last winter but we weren’t hit anyway near as bad as many. He’s real strict about only breeding strong ewes that stand up to the weather and it paid off last year. The vet lent me a book about getting better lambs by running less sheep, you get more twins that the ewes can cope with as well. It makes sense really because it improves the grazing to have less sheep. We’ll need more land in-bye but there’s plenty to rent farther down the hill. It’s sad that farmers have given up but they can’t sell the land so they’re prepared to offer cheap rents.”

“Is Mr Ormerod looking to expand the farm?”

“Not really. What he wants to do is breed better sheep. If we can make a bit more money with less sheep, life will be easier. He’s not getting any younger.”

“The school is looking to expand Home Farm and add classes in agriculture for boys who want to go onto Agricultural College. Two colleges down south are interested and we may get some of their staff coming up to help organise it.”

“That’s the way it’s going. Mind you, it’s interesting to read about. Don’t look so surprised. The vet has lent me some other books and I’m reading them, though they are hard going.”

“We’ll have you at college, yet.”
Reg had teased.

“I don’t think so. The vet has suggested a short course at a college near York. I don’t think I’d really want to, though. Too many people and not enough room to breath.”

“Did your Dad come round to Daisy going to the High School?”
Reg had thought he’d better change the subject.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Me? I didn’t know anything about it!”

“I told him it hadn’t changed you to go to a posh school. There wasn’t much he could say after that.”


They had laughed and packed the remains of their lunch and set off again up the hill.

Mr Wilson’s death had put a damper on the end of term, though he hadn’t been personally upset. The old man had been at peace and ready to go, like Mr Akroyd had been. It seemed a pity that he hadn’t known him better. Some of the boys, like Davis, had been upset because they hadn’t really let him know how much he had helped them. It was difficult, that. If you went all over someone, thanking them and making a fuss, they were embarrassed and yet, if you didn’t, you might never get the chance. He shelved the issue.

He wondered if the triplets would say anything about Margot going to Canada. If they did, he would be jolly about it and buck them up. They were a bit too young to say anything else really. He could hardly do the same if Auntie Jo said anything. Mind you, she probably wouldn’t. Even if she wasn’t happy about it, she would have to pretend she was for everyone else’s sake. Another difficult one. He wondered who she talked to when she needed to.

He gave himself a little shake. He knew he was inclined to take things too seriously. He’d been told so often enough by Auntie, Mr Douglas, Chris and Uncle Jack. ‘Borrowing trouble’, Auntie called it. Mr Douglas said he should concentrate on what he could do and not worry about things beyond his control. Good advice, he knew but he didn’t like to be caught out unexpectedly and the only way to avoid that was by thinking things through. He chuckled. Now he was worrying about worrying!

Mr Douglas also said he should think about how well he had done since he came to Polgarth and be proud of it. He supposed, since there was no one here and he was only thinking it to himself, he could admit that he had done rather well without bragging. He chuckled silently again as he remembered how he didn’t know what an essay was when he arrived. He’d met Hanson and the other Inseparables straight away and they made friends so he’d never felt left out. There’d been problems, of course. That business with Molyneux had been horrid. But he’d made his way up the Form and was always in the top three or four overall – and always first in some subjects.

Soccer was fun and cricket, too. He’d won prizes at Cross Country, even running against other schools. The Kite Club had taken off and got bigger than he ever expected and he’d learnt a lot more about birds. And now he was a Sub-Prefect and he’d not expected that. Not bad for a Village boy!

He’d learned two languages as well, not counting Latin. Well, at least he’d learnt enough to get by when he had to. Those Polish young men were brave. It was fun showing them round and talking to them. After Mrs Douglas had warned him, they’d not asked any questions about how they came to be in England but the odd fact had slipped out even in the week they’d known them. They were awfully polite with the adults, all that bowing seemed funny. Mr Douglas said it was their culture and that Mrs Douglas had said it happened a lot on the continent.

He got his book out again and lost himself in the adventures of Tommy and Tuppence till it was time to gather his things together and the train was pulling into the station.

*

“So how are you getting on with explaining things in German?” Jo was interested in the tale Reg had been telling her about his new Polish friends.

“We manage, somehow. They’re really keen to learn English and our German has just had to get better. I’m even picking up a few words of Polish, though the pronunciation isn’t easy. Goodness knows what it sounds like to anyone else and I think Mrs Douglas would cringe if she heard us when we’re on our own. Mr Clarke has helped as well.”

Jo laughed. “It sounds like we were at school. We used to get by in a mix of languages on Sundays. Even when we became fluent we’d mix them up – some things just sound better in one language than another.”

“Did you have any Polish girls at your school?”


Jo thought for a moment. “Only one that I recall, Natasha Petrovska or it might have been Pokrovska, I can’t quite remember. I didn’t know her very well, though I remember she played the piano and was pretty. Rosalie Dene might remember her better, I think they were in the same Form. Her father sent for her when things got dicey with Hitler and we never heard of her again. I suppose she got caught up in the upheavals in Poland.”

Jo sighed and looked sad. “So many people lost and suffering.”

“It didn’t seem real till I met Jerzi and the others. Stefan came from a farm and I took him up to see Home Farm. Mr Newby took him into the cow byre. He went up to one of the cows, put his arm round it’s neck and put his head down and cried. Mr Newby told him to come back any time, at least he told me to tell him and I put it into German. It gets quite complicated at times!”

“Things like that break through the barriers and they need to grieve before they can move on.”

“Do you really think so? I wondered if I’d done the wrong thing taking him there, he was so upset.”


Jo shook her head. “No. They’ll need to face what they have lost or they’ll freeze up inside. It’s a good thing you boys are doing up at Polgarth.”

“It’s not much, really. Mrs Douglas is doing most of it. She’s teaching them English and doing most of the translating. She and Mr Douglas even went to The Old Vicarage for Christmas Day so she could translate and make them feel more comfortable.”

“Bless the girl! I’ll bet she’s got them teaching her Polish as well.”

“Jerzi did say she’d asked them to but he thought it was just to make them feel better.”

“You tell him from me that she meant it. I like to learn new languages but it’s because I just enjoy them. Mrs Douglas has a passion for it and wants to teach everyone she can – I’d go so far as to say she’s on a mission to get people to be multilingual.”

“She’s awfully good at it. She started all our crowd in French and German and I was surprised at how much we knew when we really needed German.”

“By the time your new friends are fluent in English, you’ll be even better.”

“So it’s working both ways. I was a bit afraid they’d see it as charity but I’ll tell them what you said about Mrs Douglas.”

“You do that.”


*

“Won’t you miss them?” Reg asked Sybil as they walked along the lane towards Joey’s house.

Sybil shrugged. “I’m disappointed not to see Canada but I don’t see that much of my parents anyway. I’ll miss Josette more. Auntie Jo was beside herself when they decided to take Margot. Len and Con were really upset as well. Daddy and Uncle Jack decided the sea voyage and the climate in Canada would do her good.”

“I suppose that’s why they’re taking Josette as well.”

“Mummy is always going to be convinced Josette is delicate. She doesn’t see her at school! Still, Mummy usually gets her way. Daddy is determined Mummy should go with him and she won’t go without Josette – so Josette goes. Not that she minds, she’s frightfully excited about it. Anyway, enough about that. What did you have for Christmas?”


*

“It will be weird but it’s not for so very long and, if Margot gets strong again, it will be worth it, I suppose. That’s what Papa said. Con and me got a bit upset and I suppose we are the teeniest bit jealous, though we try not to be. Mama says we should be cheerful about it and give her good memories to take with her.”

“What does Margot think?”
Reg asked, curiously.

Len and Reg were collecting eggs from the chicken run at the bottom of the garden.

“She’s wild with excitement. I don’t think she minds leaving us at all.” Len sounded a little sad.

Len thought his way through that. The triplets were only eight after all, even if they were advanced for their age in some ways. They’d always been together and this would be their first separation. He’d like to help Len if he could, after all they could hardly stay this close the rest of their lives and she’d have to adjust eventually.

“I expect she hasn’t thought about missing you yet, she’s just excited about the adventure.”

“That’s what Mary-Lou said. She said we were jolly lucky to have so many in our family. She’s an only, you know.”

“So am I, there’s only Auntie and me. When I was little, I used to imagine having brothers and sisters.”

“You’ve got us now.”
Len assured him with all the confidence of her eight years.

“So, I have! You’re bound to miss her but if it makes her well and strong then it just has to be right, however hard it is. I’ll tell you what, keep a diary of any funny things that happen while she’s away. Auntie and I talk for hours when I get home from School and tell each other what’s happened. If we were together all the time, we’d probably have nothing to talk about.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that and I’ll ask Margot to do the same. Oh, look, there’s another egg under those brambles!”

“Good layers, your banties.”

Author:  Lesley [ 21 Jun 2008, 16:36 ]
Post subject: 

Another excellent chapter, thanks Pat.

You know, thinking about Margot going to Canada - it's quite possible that Jack had made up his mind months before and arranged it with Jem without saying anything to Joey. It's the sort of thing he would do as he's so obviously head of the household. He left it until the last minute to tell Joey knowing that she would worry herself sick about it and basically giving her as little time as possible to fret.

Author:  Sugar [ 21 Jun 2008, 16:51 ]
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patmac wrote:

“We’ll never learn this mad language.” Jan clutched his head as he switched back into his native tongue.


LOL I have a lovely image in my head of Grandad saying the same thing when he first was learning the language there were things he never got the hang of including silent letters!

I certainly reacted the same way trying to learn Lithuanian - that IS an awful language!

I think Lesley might be right that Jack and Jem organised the details of Margot going to Canada a long while before they told Jo to stop her kicking off AND to stop her having some sort of breakdown. I thought it was interesting the way Sybil brushed Reg's discussion off and that Madge sees Josette as more frail than she actually is.

Thanks Patmac

Author:  shazwales [ 21 Jun 2008, 18:58 ]
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Thanks Patmac really enjoying this

Author:  Kathy_S [ 21 Jun 2008, 20:13 ]
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I love the way Reg is growing up. :)

Thank you, Pat.

Author:  Anjali [ 22 Jun 2008, 02:14 ]
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I liked Reg reflecting on all that he had learnt since starting at Polgarth....he is a bit of a worrier, isn't he? So many lovely conversations in that post, Patmac, thanks.

Author:  M [ 22 Jun 2008, 14:53 ]
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Loved Reg reflecting on how much he'd learnt. Also good to see that things are changing and Daisy was allowed to take up the scholarship, pre-war that probably wouldn't have happened. Josette herself in 3 Go says that people are always fussing about her being delicate and she isn't. Interesting the Sybil is more concerned about missing her sister than her parents, after all she saw her sister every day but parents were only for holidays.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 23 Jun 2008, 21:24 ]
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Two lovely posts to catch up on - thanks Patmac :D

Author:  Nina [ 24 Jun 2008, 09:57 ]
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I've just been lurking enough to keep up with this - it's so good! And it's nice to have time now to read it as it's posted and not be catching up with three posts at a time :) Hubby has started watching To Serve Them All My Days again, and I keep wanting to say no, that's not the right person, and wondering when Reg will arrive... :? :oops:

And learning languages - we were trying to help a Bulgarian friend the other day, he kept saying things like "more near" and "more high", so we told him it was nearer and higher. So then he said something was gooder, and we had to explain that "more good" was actually better. :roll: I still can't believe so many people manage to learn English!

Author:  patmac [ 25 Jun 2008, 11:50 ]
Post subject: 

Nina wrote
Quote:
Hubby has started watching To Serve Them All My Days again,
I haven't read it for some years and dare not even think of reading it again till Reg leaves school - I was certainly influenced by it in my portrayal of Polgarth!

This will be the last post for more than a week as we are off to Greece tomorrow for a wedding - real typical Greek affair, starting at 7.30 in the evening with the ceremony and probably finishing about breakfast time the next morning 8) and we will be taking the opportunity of a few extra days in Athens.

***


“So what do you think?”

Anne Hatcherd and Gertrude had been taking a rare chance to have a private chat over a cup of tea and Anne had been telling Gertrude of Mary’s suggestion that they should move to Polgarth when Albert retired.

“It’s an excellent idea. You needn’t think you will be ‘butting in’. Dorothy and Hugh don’t think like that.”

“It would be nice to see more of Hilary.”
Anne said, wistfully. “Every time we see her, she’s grown just a bit more.”

“Talk to Albert and if he agrees, have a chat with Dorothy. Do it before you go home then you’ve got time to think it through before Easter. I should think you’ll get a good price for the house.”


*

“We’d be thrilled! I didn’t dare suggest it in case you thought I was just looking for a baby sitter.”

“And I didn’t mention the idea in case you thought we’d be butting in!”

“Silly pair, aren’t we?”
Dorothy hugged her mother. “Are you sure Dad is happy about it? He’ll lose his allotment.”

Anne laughed. “He’s been absolutely drooling over Mary and Julian’s walled garden and making imaginary plans to get it into full production. He even took cuttings from our fruit bushes last autumn ready to bring over this spring and Julian has already asked him if he’ll be free for a couple of weeks after Easter to oversee some of the work. I expect Julian will give him a free hand.”

“Perfect! If he doesn’t have to do the heavy digging, he could really make something of it. Oh, it’s great news!”


*

Aunt Gertrude and Dorothy’s parents went home after an enjoyable visit and the Polgarth staff started drifting back ahead of the boys. Hugh, Mary and Julian were involved in meetings each day and the whole community geared up to the hectic pace of term time.

For the first time, Dorothy felt slightly left out of things as her husband and friends rushed around. Even the garden needed little work at this time of year and she had her housekeeping routine sorted now so it took less time. Hilary was still a delight but not a lot of company for conversation. Previously, Mary had popped in for a cup of tea and a chat a couple of afternoons a week when she was not on prep or tea duty and Dorothy began to count the days till Beryl moved in next door.

*

“Here they come.” Robert Allen, the Deputy Head rang the big bell in the hallway to alert the other staff and went out onto the steps where he was soon joined by Eric and several other staff. There were no new boys in the Senior School this term so it was a simple job for the Prefects to get the boys into line to enter the school without causing chaos.

“Good hols?” Rawson asked Reg, once the boys were streaming into the door.

“Yes thanks. And you?”

“On the whole. I’m looking to some better meals now we’re back, though.”


Reg looked surprised.

“I hadn’t really taken in just how bad the rationing is. We always eat well here but it’s awful at home. Mother did her best but there’s only so much she can do with dried eggs and liver, as for the sausages – goodness knows what they put in them. Luckily they dug up the garden at the start of the war for vegetables otherwise I think they would go hungry some days. I’ve persuaded them to get some chickens so at least they’ll have eggs.”

“The chickens won’t be laying many eggs for a while yet.”
Reg volunteered.

“We still have plenty of eggs in the winter here.” Rawson said in surprise.

“A lot of those are from the summer. They put them down in Isinglass to store.”

“Oh, Lord! I didn’t know that. I’d better write and tell them.”

“Talk to Mrs Newby first, she might be able to raise some chicks for them. At least that way you’d know they are healthy.”

“Good thinking. I’ll do that.”


*

Dear Dorothy and Hugh,

We got home safely and everything was all right here. We really enjoyed our stay and getting to know some other people better. Mrs Collins and I really got on well and I talked to her about the idea of us moving to Polgarth. She says it has worked out well for her and she is happier than she has been for years.

As you can guess from that, we have decided to go ahead and move as soon as possible after Easter. We sat and talked for hours about it and if it hadn’t been for the walled garden, I think I would have been doubtful if it would work for your Dad – you know how much time he spends at the allotment.

He says he’s ready for a new challenge and is certainly full of ideas. It will be strange to move to a new home after so long here but it’s not as if we are moving somewhere completely strange, we’ve got to know quite a few people in the village over the past couple of years. Who knows, I might even join the Mothers’ Union! I’ve missed going to church, as you know, and at least I’m sure Mr Compton isn’t likely to make any stupid remarks about Jews or be in the least bit fascist!

I’ve checked on the calendar and Good Friday is the 26th March so, provided we can get everything sorted with the business in time, Dad will finish at the shop on the 19th and we will be with you for Easter and for two weeks after that while Dad works in Julian and Mary’s garden. Hopefully, we can find somewhere to live while we are with you and then we will know what furniture we need to bring.

Will you want any of our furniture that we won’t need? Perhaps it could be stored somewhere over at Polgarth till you do the work on the cottages? If you don’t want it, maybe Mary would have some – they’re going to have a job furnishing all those rooms.

We think that we would like to live in or near the village but it would be best if we are on the north side so we are nearer you. We’ve decided that we don’t really mind if we have to rent rather than buy but we would like to have a proper bathroom so if we rent the house would need to have one. If we buy, I suppose we would have to delay the move while a bathroom is put in. At least two bedrooms, I’m not bothered about a proper dining room if the kitchen is big enough to eat in – we don’t use the dining room here much anyway. I’d like enough garden to potter about in and room for the chickens. I hope we can find something suitable fairly quickly. We’re both excited at being nearer to you and, especially, seeing more of Hilary.

I’ll stop now so I can catch the post.

Lots of love and give Hilary a kiss from us,

Mum

*

Dear Hilary,

I hope you had a good Christmas and that term has started well. We had quite a busy time here with Mum and Dad here for over a week and spent Christmas Day with Mary and Julian down at their new house – yes, they have moved in. In fact, we were still helping them get straight on Christmas Eve.

Would you believe, I am teaching again! No, not at the school! We have three young Polish men living in the village and working as labourers for Julian on the new house and also, eventually, up at the school. They come from a DP Camp and have next to no English but, fortunately, they do speak reasonable German so I’m teaching them English a couple of afternoons each week at the cottage. They are certainly keen and coming on in leaps and bounds, I’ve never had such attentive students. Some of the boys have made friends with them and Dr Cartwright has agreed that they can spend most Saturday evenings up at the school with the VI forms. You will well remember the sort of Franglo-Deutsch we used to employ at school, the difference here being that Polish replaces the French part. I think Ed was a bit concerned about it at first as they are exchanging slang at a furious rate! We talked about it and then he spoke to the Polgarth boys and I spoke to the Polish lads to remind them that they need to be careful what they teach one another. Here’s hoping they got the message or at least learn what words they may and may not use when we can hear them.

It is working really well on both sides as the boys are really making an effort with their German and the Polish lads are learning more colloquial English – but without the Yorkshire dialect they are picking up in the village. You know, the boys here are a grand lot, they were only too willing to help out and Ed says their spoken German will be very good before long.

Anyway, I invited them here for Christmas Day and then, in the end we all joined with Mary and Julian at their new house. It really would have been a squash round the dinner table here. As you can imagine, I was kept busy translating, though Hugh. Julian and Mary speak some German now, it is very stilted and correct and their vocabulary is limited. Hugh suggested that we should speak German at home some evenings to give him the practice and we have been doing that so Monday, Wednesday and Fridays are German evenings.

Mary is considering doing some basic French right from the start of Kindergarten. Certainly, the younger the children start, the easier it is for them and they don’t develop the idea that it is hard to learn another language.

Julian is going to hire some more men from the camp so I have asked him to get in touch with the authorities there to see if they have any spare Polish English dictionaries.

As you would expect, the Poles are Roman Catholics and a bonus is that Father Mulcahey and our new Vicar, Fred Compton, have been working together to ensure that they don’t meet any prejudice. Father Mulcahey is normally only in the village on Sunday mornings as he covers several villages and we only have a small community of Catholics here but he has been over several times in between and even came to the Staff Pantomime for the first time ever.

That, by the way, was the Polish lads first introduction to the school. The poor souls looked very bewildered afterwards and I have no idea what they thought of it but I introduced them to the Inseparables and that is how they became friends with the boys.

I’m enjoying the teaching and it is keeping my hand in for the future. I missed it once Hilary got into a routine and would hate to think I wouldn’t do it again. It’s early days yet but, once she is at school, I would like to go back, even if it is part time.

I nearly forgot to tell you that we are now landed gentry! Well, the proud owners of the two cottages. Dear Aunt Gertrude gave us the money to buy them and eventually we will probably combine them into one bigger house. For the moment, we are letting the other one out and Clive and Beryl Borrows, I don’t think you have met them but we may have mentioned them in passing, are moving up here from London. From what Beryl told us, life in the cities is harder than it was in the war. As you will know, though you may not as I expect the school has your ration book, you can only buy one shillings worth of meat a week. For us, and you from what Jo says, that is not such a problem as we keep chickens and Home Farm keeps the school supplied – not to mention the Pig Club (though when you think that was a way of getting meat for the poorest workers last century, it does make you think) – in the cities, the best cuts mean you get very little for your money and are sold very quickly, so you either have to queue before the butcher opens on the days he gets a delivery or manage with what is left – I like liver and kidneys but not every day! They will live next door until they find a suitable house and get it fixed up.

Mum and Dad are moving over here after Easter when Dad finally finishes at the shop so we are looking forward to that as well. Will you be able to come up at Easter? We’d love to see you, though I think it will be the parlour floor for you or you could probably stay with Mrs Newby. It would be so nice to catch up with you again and Mum would love to see you. We really don’t see enough of you.

Little Hilary grows by leaps and bounds. She crawls a little, which is early I am told but – wait for it – she crawls BACKWARDS and gets very frustrated. I enclose a snap that Julian took at Christmas. As you will see, she is wearing the dress you knitted for her. The lacy stitch round the hem and sleeves is so delicate. Thank you so much for it, it is both beautiful and warm.

Hugh is still quite besotted with her and she sits in her little chair and watches him when he is marking. He comments on the work and she babbles away quite happily as if she understands. It is lovely to see them together.

I have to stop now as it is nearly time for Jerzi, Jan and Stefan to arrive for their lessons and I must be ready.

Love from

Dorothy

PS Hugh sends his love and your Goddaughter sends a sloppy kiss.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 25 Jun 2008, 13:53 ]
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As always, I love the way you keep us up to date with all the threads in each post, Patmac - you are certainly reminding us of the fact that the food shortages were often worse for people in the months after the war ended than they were during it. Your mention of eggs preserved in isinglass brought back memories for me - not all of them good ones, because I *do* remember that the egg yolks sometimes acquired a rather revolting flavour when they were fried or poached! But at least we did have eggs!

Thanks for this extra long update to sustain us whilst you are away - I hope you have a really great time in Greece.

Author:  Lesley [ 25 Jun 2008, 17:53 ]
Post subject: 

The Schools really were sheltered when it came to rationing - and I think the cities had it the worst of all - and it was worse after the war because we were virtually bankrupt. :cry:


Thanks Pat - lovely update

Author:  Anjali [ 26 Jun 2008, 01:29 ]
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I'm learning a lot about wartime from your drabble, Patmac - my history books didn't really go beyond dates and incidents! Thanks for the rich detail, and hope you enjoy the greek wedding.

Author:  Kathy_S [ 26 Jun 2008, 04:50 ]
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Thank you, Pat, and have a wonderful time.

Author:  M [ 15 Jul 2008, 18:12 ]
Post subject: 

I'm sure you must be back from Athens by now so are we going to hear some more soon, please.

Author:  Jennie [ 16 Jul 2008, 15:10 ]
Post subject: 

I could whinge and moan, perhaps start a chant. Most people give in after I do that.

Author:  Anjali [ 17 Jul 2008, 01:02 ]
Post subject: 

*adds loud voice to chant*
MORE, MORE, MORE!!! :trumpet:

Author:  Jennie [ 20 Jul 2008, 15:04 ]
Post subject: 

Time to start whinging and chanting!

Author:  Joan the Dwarf [ 20 Jul 2008, 18:50 ]
Post subject: 

What do we want?

MORE VILLAGE BOY!

When do we want it?

ER, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, PRETTY PLEASE WITH BUNNY TREATS ON TOP.

Author:  Jennie [ 21 Jul 2008, 20:34 ]
Post subject: 

Starting a super-whinge! The chant will come next!

Author:  Anjali [ 22 Jul 2008, 01:03 ]
Post subject: 

My singing/chanting voice is not upto much...but whinging I can do!
Come on, Patmac....More VB!

Hehe..VB here stands for Victoria Bitter, the staple beer...almost laughed out loud as I typed that!

Author:  Identity Hunt [ 22 Jul 2008, 15:45 ]
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Sending lots of tasty treats to Patmac's plot bunnies ....... :wink:

Author:  Jennie [ 23 Jul 2008, 13:39 ]
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Still no more of this!

I am now in a snit, and ready to go into a supersnit!

Author:  Mrs Redboots [ 23 Jul 2008, 13:40 ]
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Joins in the chant, rather loudly and tunelessly.....

Author:  jacey [ 23 Jul 2008, 18:55 ]
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See, this is the problem I have with the drabbles. No author can ever write enough, fast enough, for me! And far too many CBB authors make me care about their characters so that I *need* to know what happens next. I'm worn out waiting for Reg, who in this drabble is being built into such a wonderful multi-faceted character .

Author:  Jennie [ 30 Jul 2008, 16:05 ]
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We're all worn out waiting for it!

I'm reaching the supersnit stage.

Author:  Jennie [ 25 Aug 2008, 14:16 ]
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Is Patmac all right? Has anyone been in touch with her?

Author:  Pat [ 25 Aug 2008, 21:03 ]
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She was at my birthday in June, but haven't seen her since - or heard from her.

Author:  PaulineS [ 26 Aug 2008, 12:28 ]
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She is looking well and busy on her website. Some lovely pictures of the Eden Project in August.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 26 Aug 2008, 21:12 ]
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Then she has no business to be off enjoying herself on holiday and not updating this :roll: :wink:

Author:  Jennie [ 28 Aug 2008, 14:56 ]
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I agree, Pauline. I call it dereliction of duty!

Author:  abbeybufo [ 20 Nov 2008, 22:59 ]
Post subject:  Re: THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12

Anyone heard from PatMac lately? Is she OK??

Author:  Pat [ 20 Nov 2008, 23:24 ]
Post subject:  Re: THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12

Haven't heard for ages. She was fine back in June when she came to my party.

Author:  Jennie [ 21 Nov 2008, 16:21 ]
Post subject:  Re: THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12

I've e-mailed her, but don't know if I'll get a reply. I'll let you know if I do.

Author:  JellySheep [ 04 Feb 2009, 14:24 ]
Post subject:  Re: THE VILLAGE BOY PART 13 - 25/06/08 P12

I've spent the last however long reading VB right from the start, and now I've reached the end I don't know what to do! To prevent severe withdrawal symptoms, please come back and write some more! I hope you are all right and just busy thinking up lots more story.
It's absolutely smashing, all those different threads woven together, all the historical detail, the brilliant characters, the links to different parts of the CS universe. Like some of the others, I hadn't expected to be a Reg or Auntie enthusiast, but this has made me a convert, as well as making me like lots of the other characters too. I was v. sad when you killed off Billy though, (btw, that scene was so well written) and had to hide tears at work. I agree with whoever it was who had trouble remembering that the characters and storylines aren't all part of the 'original' CS canon.

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