THE VILLAGE BOY PART 11 18-07-06 page 14 COMPLETE
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The CBB -> Ste Therese's House

#1: THE VILLAGE BOY PART 11 18-07-06 page 14 COMPLETE Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 8:35 am
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Parts 1 - 10 are in the archives.

This is set in the summer holidays 1946 - the first summer of peace.



Reg gave Auntie one last hug and Rachel Hanson urged him into the back of the car over a pile of luggage. Turning to Auntie, she smiled.

“We’ll take good care of him and it will be my turn to wave Christopher off in two weeks time. I’ve got Reg’s ration book safely and I’ll send Christopher’s when he travels up.”

“I know he’ll be fine. I’ll take care of Christopher when they come to Garnham.”


Both women watched as Christopher’s father passed a pile of blankets into the car, followed by a wooden crate with sundry battered saucepans in it.

“I’m glad now we couldn’t sell this monster of a car. We tried at the start of the war but no one wanted something this size once petrol rationing came in. We laid it up for the duration and we never use it now except for holidays but it does mean we can get an awful lot in when we do.”

Auntie thought that was an understatement as Jacob Hanson continued to pass boxes in to the waiting boys. The car was bigger even than the one Sir James drove and had two folding seats in the back facing the rear. These were now invisible under piles of boxes and yet there was still room for the boys to stretch their legs.

“It’s the biggest car I’ve ever seen.”

Rachel laughed. “It belonged to Jacob’s father. He never learned to drive and had a chauffeur. He’d turn in his grave if he saw how we’re using it now. I never got used to having money so I’m happier this way. I think Jacob is, too. Christopher was only eight when the war started so he can’t really remember anything else. In a way, it turned out for the best. He was down for Winchester but we couldn’t afford the fees in the end. Polgarth has been much better for him. Right. Everything is in now. If you get in the front, I’ll squeeze in with the boys till we get to the station.”

Nimbly clambering over the luggage, Christopher’s mother sat between the boys and Jacob Hanson closed the passenger door as soon as Auntie was settled.

Carefully negotiating the narrow gateway, the car pulled out of the field where the Hansons had camped the previous night and progressed majestically down the lane before pulling onto the road into Polgarth village. Once Auntie had alighted at the station, Rachel moved to the front and they set off.

“Which way are we going?” asked Christopher.

“We’ll pick up the A1 and head South till we’re beyond the Humber. Then we’ll cut off across Lincolnshire and head towards the coast at Kings Lynn. We won’t get there today as its gone five o’clock now but we should get into Lincolnshire before we need to stop. We’ll find somewhere to camp once we get off the main road and make a really early start tomorrow.”

“Ripping!”


Once they turned south onto the A1, Mr Hanson shifted into a higher gear and picked up speed. There was little traffic and the big engine purred along happily at, what seemed to Reg, to be a tremendous speed as the road stretched straight before them as far as the eye could see.

“Gosh, this is straight! Is it like this all the way?” Reg was leaning forward to see the road ahead.

Mr Hanson shook his head. “Unfortunately not. This part of the road follows the path of an old Roman Road that ran from York into Scotland.”

“I didn’t know that!”
Christopher sounded indignant.

“You never asked.”

“It is the duty of parents to instruct the young.”
Christopher quipped with a grin. “Come on, Pa! Tell us the story now.”

“Ask your mother. She knows more than I do about the Romans.”

“Mama dearest, will you please tell us about the Roman Road?”


His mother turned round in her seat, her eyes twinkling. “You’re trading on the fact that Reg is here! You wouldn’t dare be so cheeky otherwise. Now don’t try that angelic look on me. I’ve seen it too often from your father to be taken in.”

Reg couldn’t help laughing. He had been feeling a little shy with


Last edited by patmac on Tue Jul 18, 2006 6:33 pm; edited 33 times in total

#2:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 8:44 am
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Great start, Patmac. It's good to see Reg getting loads and loads of new experiences, instead of being an outline as he was in the later books.

#3:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 11:08 am
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Glad to see a new part, Thanks Pat. Looking forward to hearing more about the holiday.

#4:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 11:13 am
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Lovely and looks like being a fab holiday.

Thank you Pat.

#5:  Author: KarryLocation: Stoke on Trent PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 11:26 am
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Lovely, Pat! Dont forget about the Fosse, that is near Newark as well!

#6:  Author: Elder in OntarioLocation: Ontario, Canada PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 1:08 pm
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Another great start Patmac - I loved the journey down the 'old' A1 through Yorkshire, before all the towns were by-passed, but please satisfy this ex-pat Yorkshirewoman's curiosity and tell us where that particular standing stone is - I'm trying in vain to visualise it!

Looking forward to more of this.

#7:  Author: Carolyn PLocation: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 2:08 pm
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OOoh, more of this, thanks Pat.

#8:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 2:09 pm
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Fantabulous!

Thank you Pat! Very Happy

#9:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 2:47 pm
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Oh hurrah - Village Boy is back!

Thanks Pat, a great start. Looking forward to this holiday - and the reciprocal one with Auntie too!

#10:  Author: groverLocation: Dublin PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 3:31 pm
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More hurrahs! So happy to see this is back. Lovely beginning.

Thanks, Pat. Very Happy

#11:  Author: JoWLocation: Lincolnshire PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 5:16 pm
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They're going to pass my house when they get just past Sleaford! Very Happy Laughing Laughing

Of course I won't be born for another 6 years and I won't move to that house until 2003 but I'm still excited.

#12:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 6:37 pm
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Awww, so good to see this - is Christopher's mother a History major?

Thanks Pat.

#13:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 10:29 am
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Sending this to the top to remind PatMac that I want some more of it.

#14:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 10:31 am
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I'd like some more too please Pat! I do love this.

#15:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 12:36 pm
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Hurrah! Reg et al are back Very Happy

Thanks Pat - lovely start to the holidays.

#16:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 7:18 pm
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Thank you for the support, folks Laughing

Sorry Karry, the Fosse has to be missed out together with an awful lot of other places or I'll never get them to the sea!

Elder, the Devils Arrows are on the edge of Boroughbridge and right near the A1 I've some photos but they are pre digital so to save time, here is a link to info :

here

JoW - I hope you watched them go by Wink

Lesley : No she just likes History and it gives me a chance to indulge myself!




The early morning sun reached Reg’s face and he stirred. There was a confused moment as he opened his eyes before he realised where he was and then turning over onto his stomach he looked out of the open tent door. A movement to his left attracted his attention and he saw Mrs Hanson emerging from the other tent with her finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet. Reg cautiously reached to the foot of the tent and reached for his pullover, then he rolled up the legs of his pyjamas and emerged barefoot onto the wet grass.

He caught up with Christopher’s mother as she opened the back door of the car to get out the crate containing cooking equipment.

“Let me get that.” Reg said quietly.

“Thanks. You’re awake early.”

“The sun woke me. Christopher has his head right under his blankets so he’s still asleep.”

“ I thought I’d get the kettle on and sort out breakfast before anyone else woke. Fetch the little folding table and some stools will you. I want to do some sandwiches for lunch as well.”


Reg fetched the table, a couple of folding stools and the box of food. By the time he had set up the table and stools, she had emptied the crate of pans and turned it upside down, placed the primus stove on the crate and it was soon alight with the kettle, filled with the last of their water, on top.

“I expect you’re hungry so you get yourself a slice of bread and butter while I go for milk. I’ll take the water can as well. You can’t go with me in your pyjamas.”

Reg thankfully carved a doorstep and buttered it, sitting on one of the stools to eat it while he waited. It seemed strange not to see hills in the distance and the sky seemed very big as a consequence. When he saw Christopher’s mother entering the field, carefully carrying the cans of milk and water he stuffed the last of the bread in his mouth, and ran across to take the water from her.

“We’ll put some water in one of the big saucepans and stand the milk can in it. I’m going straight back for some eggs. I’ll turn the stove right down low now and the kettle can simmer away. When I come back, we’ll start making some noise and get those two sleepy heads up!”

Within an hour, they were on their way and, once they had left the little market town of Sleaford behind, the land became even flatter and they were soon driving along a road which was higher than the surrounding fields. A broad ditch separated the field from the road and the fields stretched as far as the eye could see, separated by ditches.

“Why is the road so high above the fields? Is it in case of flooding?” Reg asked.

“Partly. It’s also because the Fens are sinking. We’re taking water out all the time and the peat contracts as it dries out. All those fields would have been nearer the road level a couple of hundred years ago.”

“I remember we talked about that in Geography a year or two ago but I couldn’t really imagine it.”

“I thought it was the other way round. A lot of the towns were islands, like Ely and then they reclaimed the land by draining. Will they become islands again some day? You remember when we went to Ely last hols and it was misty. It looked like an island sticking out of the sea.”
Said Christopher.

“It’s complicated and I’ll tell you more about it later but, if we had a breach in the sea defences, yes. There are places miles inland that are lower than the sea level. I really need to show you the map for it to make sense. We’re running into Swineshead Bridge now and, although it’s Sunday, I wouldn’t want to kill any of the locals.”

The boys watched as they drove through the village and Reg’s eyes widened as he saw the railway line ahead. Instead of a bridge, the road crossed straight across the lines. He’d heard of level crossings but they sounded dangerous. It was all very well putting gates across when a train was coming but what if someone made a mistake. They rattled across the lines and then over a wide bridge. To each side of them a straight and obviously man made waterway stretched as far as they could see.

“It’s the Forty Foot Drain.” Said Mr Hanson, as he stopped the car briefly so they could have a better look. “It was dug in the seventeenth century to drain lands farther to the west.”

“I suppose it’s name tells us how wide it is?”
Christopher said as he leant out of the window to see better. “How unromantic!”

His father laughed. “Very utilitarian, I agree. It’s sometimes known as Vermuyden’s River after the Dutch engineer who designed it. We won’t stop here. We’ll stop at a bigger one at Fosdyke.”

They drove on in silence and Reg found himself almost mesmerised by the constant repetition of fields and ditches. It was after a particularly sharp bend as they crossed a dyke that Reg realised what this landscape had been reminding him of all morning.

“It’s like The Nine Tailors! You know, where the car goes in the ditch on a bend, just like that. Was that supposed to be round here?”

“It was certainly somewhere in the fens.
” Rachel replied. “I read it when it came out but I’ve not read it since. I wonder if we still have a copy.”

“It’s in my room.
” Christopher told her. “I was reading it at Easter. Perhaps we’ll end up in a ditch and have an adventure.”

“No, thank you! Murders are all very well in detective stories but I’m no Lord Peter!”
said his father decisively.

At last they came to another village and Jacob gave a grunt of satisfaction.

“Fosdyke. We’re going just beyond the main village to the river and then we’ll be able to stretch our legs.”

They came to an iron bridge with brick pillars and crossed the wide river, flowing well below them with steep muddy banks rising to the footings of the bridge. They rumbled across, past a large building on the left and pulled into a pub yard on the right of the road.

“Everybody out. We’ll eat our lunch here and then go and look at the bridge. Lemonade for you boys?”

Receiving an enthusiastic welcome to his suggestion, he disappeared through the low doorway, reappearing a few minutes later with a battered tin tray on which stood four glasses. They sat on the low wall in front of the pub and ate their sandwiches and hard boiled eggs. The lemonade was the fizzy sort from a bottle and very refreshing.

“What’s the beer like?” Rachel asked Jacob as he downed his pint in great gulps.

“Not bad and most welcome. If we get a couple of bottles and some lemonade, we could have shandy with our supper tonight.”

When they had finished eating, Jacob took the empty glasses back into the pub and emerged clutching several bottles which he stowed carefully in the car and returned to where they were sitting, carrying a map which he unfolded and laid on the wall.

“We’re here.” He said, pointing. “It’s not easy to get any nearer the Wash with the car but we can walk along the flood bank beside the river for a little way. The landlord says the tide is coming in so it will get more interesting as it does. Once upon a time, this was all under the marshes and flooded at high tide. In fact, this is one of the sites where King John may have lost his treasure when the tide came in. If you follow this river upstream, you can see a place called Surfleet Seas End. That was on the coast hundreds of years ago.”

“Where are the contour lines?”
Christopher asked sounding puzzled.

“There aren’t any. There’s not enough difference in height to show any. Come on, you two. You can look at it again tonight but we’ll not have time for a walk if we don’t get a move on.”

They walked back to the bridge and Reg realised that it was not fixed but swung at one end to lay alongside the river when ships needed to come through. They turned off to the right and found themselves on top of a broad bank, looking down on the river. The flow was obvious as the tide came in and they watched it swirling against the banks for a moment before walking on.

“May we go on ahead?” Christopher asked his father. “We’d like to get as far as we can before we have to turn back and you two do rather stroll along.”

“I don’t see why not. It’s a good idea to tire children out so they sleep better at night. Watch out for us waving for you to come back though. We’ve still a way to go if we’re to see King’s Lynn today. We’ll gave a quick look round there and then move on to Hunstanton. The beach is good there and we’ll have a few days before we move on again.”

“I think the honours are even there!”
said Mrs Hanson with a laugh. “Off you go then.”

The boys strode off and Rachel tucked her hand through her husband’s arm.

“He’s growing up.” She commented.

“But he’s growing into a nice boy. I’m satisfied.”

“Me too. I was a bit worried about him being with the older boys at school at first.”

“He’s made good friends, though, and he would have been bored out of his mind with his own age group. I know I was.”

“They do look funny together. Reg is going to be a big man when he finishes growing. I’m glad we couldn’t afford Winchester. I don’t think he would have fitted in. He’d have certainly met more prejudice.”

“No regrets?”

“Only that it was necessary. I was never comfortable with the money anyway. Don’t forget, my upbringing was nearer Reg’s than yours.”


Reg and Christopher were well ahead and past the point where the bank left the river to skirt some marshy ground. As it dog legged back to the river, they could see that the water was now within three feet of the top of the bank.

“Let’s run a bit. It’s plenty wide enough.”

“You run slowly then! I’ll never keep up with you if you go at your usual pace, Lanky.”

“All right. I just want to get as far as we can before we have to turn back.”


They ran for about a mile and could see that the river was widening rapidly. Then they stopped and ahead of them stretched water as far as the eye could see. The landscape was so flat they could still see Christopher’s parents in the distance when they turned to look back.

“We’d better stop here.” Said Christopher. “I think we’re on the edge of the sea anyway.”

“There aren’t any waves.”
Said Reg, sounding disappointed. “I can see waves right from the top of Grosmont Moor but there aren’t any here.”

“I think it’s because we’re in a big bay and it just trickles in over the sand. When we get to a proper beach you’ll see them. Anyway, there’s not much wind today. I’ll bet it can be rough when there is. Let’s get back. If we come back quickly when we go off, they’ll let us go again. Pa may be easy going but he can get shirty if I don’t do as I’m told.”

“True.”
Responded Reg, with a grin. “They are grown ups after all.”

Once they were on the road again, they made good time as the roads were clear and before tea time, they were pulling into King’s Lynn. The car drew up beside a quay and everyone got out. They wandered along looking at the boats and then across to a statue standing in an open space.

“George Vancouver. Is he the man the town is named after?”

“He has no less than two named for him. One in the United States and one in Canada. He sailed with Captain Cook and then went on to survey the West Coast of America. He’s not the only famous man to come from here. Admiral Lord Nelson was born not far away. That building over there is the Custom House.”


They explored more of the old town and Jacob told them stories of the Hanseatic League and it’s connections with King’s Lynn. Reg was fascinated by the tales of the merchant ships, plying their trade so long ago and hung on to every word as he looked at the timber framed buildings with their overhanging jettes. They finally turned into a small alley and, at the end, found themselves on the quay again. After a quick snack of biscuits and lemonade, they were off again, heading north towards Hunstanton.

The countryside gradually changed and soon they were driving through a wooded landscape.

“All this woodland belongs to the King. Sandringham, his country house is over there to the right.” Said Jacob.

“Why are we going a bit uphill when we’re on our way back to the sea again?” Christopher asked, having no interest in the King.

“We’re off the fens now. There are cliffs along the coast at Hunstanton. We’ll go just beyond there and camp on the dunes just back from the beach. If the weather holds, I vote we stay here a few days and just mess about on the beach.

Reg sighed with contentment. “I’ve been waiting for this for years!” [url[/url]


Last edited by patmac on Fri Jun 09, 2006 9:41 pm; edited 1 time in total

#17:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 7:35 pm
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That was such a lovely gentle episode, Pat - and I'm more than happy for you to indulge yourself! Laughing

#18:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 7:37 pm
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You paint such a lovely picture Pat - I can see it all Very Happy

#19:  Author: Elder in OntarioLocation: Ontario, Canada PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 7:49 pm
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Some lovely descriptions of the Norfolk countryside and the coastline around The Wash, Patmac - I've only been in Norfolk a couple of times, so I'm learning lots! I also love the exchanges between the two boys and between Christopher's parents. It's all just a lovely, relaxed atmosphere - just right for the start of an eagerly awaited holiday.

Thanks for telling me where the Devil's Arrows are, too - considering the number of times our family spent afternoons in the grounds of the Three Arrows Hotel in Boroughbridge while I was at school in York in the 1950s, I must have seen them at some point, but had forgotten about them!

Looking forward to more of this.

#20:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 10, 2006 9:03 am
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That was lovely, thank you Pat. I have The Nine Tailors out from the library. I haven't read it yet but I think I'll make a start on it today.

#21:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Jun 10, 2006 12:38 pm
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Thanks, Patmac. The Forty Foot Drain is only ten miles or so from where I live, so this is close to home for me. My favourite man-made waterway in the area is called Popham's Eau. Why the French name I'll probably never know.

ETA: I've never claimed that the Forty-foot Drain is exciting, and I never will, but it is historical, and hysterical at times. I was driving alongside it one day when I experienced my first Fen Blow, not something I'm keen to repeat ever again.

However, I do live in very low-lying part of the country, where water management is extremely important - think three inches higher for the floods and the river will be lapping at my front door. I live nearly a mile away from the river, BTW.


Last edited by Jennie on Mon Jun 12, 2006 8:23 pm; edited 1 time in total

#22:  Author: JoWLocation: Lincolnshire PostPosted: Sat Jun 10, 2006 1:25 pm
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Thanks Pat. It is lovely to be reading about the area I'm now living in. I can really picture it as it was then with Reg and Christopher exploring.

#23:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Sun Jun 11, 2006 11:05 am
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Thanks Pat, that was wonderful. Such a vivid picture.

#24:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sun Jun 11, 2006 8:47 pm
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Fabulous Pat!
Thank you!

#25:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Sun Jun 11, 2006 9:05 pm
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Jennie wrote:
Thanks, Patmac. The Forty Foot Drain is only ten miles or so from where I live, so this is close to home for me.


Yes, we went on a school trip to see the Forty Foot in year 7. What an exciting day out. Made more exciting by my fainting episode. Quite CS. Except that no-one in the CS ever had this particular problem, which I've decided not to share Confused

Also have been to Hunstanton and Kings Lynn, not to mention Wells, Cromer, Sheringham, Holt and Walsingham - all quite near to where Reg is holidaying.

Thanks, Pat.


Last edited by Alex on Wed Jun 14, 2006 5:25 pm; edited 1 time in total

#26:  Author: Identity HuntLocation: UK PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 6:14 am
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Thank you, Pat !
Do they get to see the windmill at Cley ? Wink

#27:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:04 am
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Thank you Pat, a beautiful and very evocative episode.

So much so that Jo and I hold you entirelty responsible for the fact we had to raid her mother's supply of eggs for breakfast yesterday morning - once we'd finally got up that is!

#28:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 11:10 am
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This is gorgeous and educational as well! *g*

Thank you Smile

#29:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 7:58 pm
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I'd forgotten how many East Anglians we have on the board - mind you, I'd only dare write about places I know, given the geographic distribution of CBBers Rolling Eyes

Jennie : I did realise how near you are to the 40' drain! Popham's Eau, I do know also but where the 'Eau' comes from I've no idea. Popham was a Lord Chief Justice or some equally important title and it was one of a positive rash of 'cuts' in the early 17th century. The last time I saw it, it was not navigable and so of no interest to me!

Identity Hunt : Well, I want to go there as it is one of my favourite windmills. I have a print of the Martin Sexton painting of it within sight as I type! It will depend on how the holiday goes, though. Plans can change.

Quote:
So much so that Jo and I hold you entirelty responsible for the fact we had to raid her mother's supply of eggs for breakfast yesterday morning - once we'd finally got up that is!
Sorry Nell. I take no responsibility for your choice of breakfast - now if you had gone and collected the eggs yourselves ......



Rachel looked round the neat camp and proclaimed that it was all as she wished. The tents were pitched in a small depression behind the dunes and, in addition to the two sleeping tents, there was a small store tent in which they could leave their cases and the food and cooking utensils. A small fireplace had been marked out with lumps of stone which were lying nearby and had obviously been used for this purpose before. Jacob had produced an iron grid from the trunk of the car and this had been laid across the top.

“I’ll get supper ready while you three have a quick run down to the beach as the tide is on it’s way out. I’ll need some more wood so, if you see any drift wood, bring it back with you. If not, we’ll have to have an expedition tomorrow. Come back in an hour, or I’ll eat it all myself!”

Jacob set off with the two boys up the slope and over the dunes. The beach sloped steeply at first, with several lines of stones, shells and seaweed showing high tide marks and then, after a depression with larger stones and an occasional pool, flattened out into an expanse of sand. The tide was visibly receding and the boys kicked off their sandals and ran towards the water, shouting and whooping with excitement. Within a minute they were in the water, running along and splashing one another in the shallows. Jacob followed a little more sedately but, leaving the towel with his sandals was soon in the warm water with them, laughing as they ran along, splashing one another liberally.

Eventually, once they were all as wet as if they had been caught out in the rain, they stood panting and, Reg, wiping his hand across his face to clear the salt water from his eyes, looked out to sea, shading his eyes from the glare of the sun.

The water stretched to the horizon with only a few fishing boats going out on the tide to break the blank expanse of blue. He looked along the coast to the left and saw the beginning of the cliffs which bordered Hunstanton, rising from the dunes and then the coast turned and he could only see sea again.

“Hang on!” Christopher exclaimed. “We’re on the East Coast but we’re looking into the sun. That can’t be right.”

“We’re still on the edge of the wash. Look.”
Picking up a stick, his father drew a large U shape in the wet sand and then continued the line in a large curve so that it looked like an S lying on it’s side. “We’re here.” He put a pebble on the line just as it began it’s curve to the right, drew a line beside the diagram with a ‘N’ at one end and then put another stone in the bottom of the U. “That’s where we had lunch.”

“Weird. So we’ve been driving North all afternoon.”
Christopher had walked round the diagram to orient himself to the North. “Hunstanton must be just along there, where the cliffs end.”

“We’ll go that way tomorrow but we’d better get back now. Your mother just might eat if all if we are late.”


Reg remembered Peggy’s distress at the lack of appreciation of her efforts the previous year and looked along the beach. “There’s a fair bit of wood down here, but not enough to keep the fire going long. Let’s take what we can, anyway.”

“Take it from where the sand is dry. Farther down the beach it will be soaked.”

“We could take some up beyond the tide and let it dry for another day.”
Suggested Reg.

Supper was a large bowl of corned beef hash and Reg and Christopher were allowed to try the shandy Jacob mixed from beer and lemonade. While the boys washed up afterwards, Jacob and Rachel sat enjoying another mug of the refreshing drink and then suggested they should all go back to the beach to watch the sun go down over the sea.

They went over the dunes and sat on the warm dry sand munching apples as the sun slowly sank towards the sea. Although the tide was right out by now, much of the flat beach was covered by a thin layer of water and Reg saw for the first time, the golden reflection of the setting sun, forming a pathway across the sea. Rachel watched his face as he stared, entranced, as the golden globe swelled as it neared the horizon and gradually sank beneath the waves. As the last glow died from the sky and the stars made their appearance, he sighed with satisfaction.

“Perfect.”

*

Reg had remembered to put his clothes near the entrance to the tent, so he could dress without disturbing Christopher and it was not long past dawn when he emerged in yesterday’s shorts and shirt looking like an overgrown urchin with his hair standing up all over the place.

Seagulls were already wheeling overhead as he wandered across the dunes to investigate the sound of quacking coming from a large patch of reeds. There he found a stretch of water with mallard ducks, and some other birds he did not recognise. Walking on a little way, he came to a stand of small trees with some dead branches lying on the ground under them. He collected an armful and set off back to the camp,.

Christopher’s mother was up and boiling a kettle on the little spirit stove to scald the milk can. She looked up as he approached and smiled. “Firewood! Thank you. Did you sleep all right?”

“Very well, thanks. There’s a stand of trees over there with quite a lot of dead wood lying around. We shouldn’t have to go far hunting for it.”

“That’s good. I don’t want to use the primus any more than I have to because it means buying paraffin and it’s smelly to keep around.”

“That makes sense. It takes ages to wash off your hands.”

“I’m going over to the farm to fetch milk and, hopefully eggs from Mrs Hill. We’ll need fresh water as well.”

“I’ll come and carry the water. I’d like to see a farm round here.”


They walked along the track to the farm, which Reg was interested to see was built of a brownish red stone. As they waited for an answer to their knock on the kitchen door, he ran his hand over the wall.

“It’s carstone.” Rachel told him. “When we walk into Hunstanton, you’ll see it at the base of the cliffs.”

Before she could tell him more, the door opened and Mrs Hill appeared. Reg looked at her with interest. Wearing a flowered overall over her dress and with her sleeves rolled up to reveal arms reddened from frequent contact with soap and water, she immediately reminded him of Mrs Ormerod from High Royd and Mrs Newby the cook at school. So similar were they that it was a shock when she spoke and he heard the broad slow speech of Norfolk for the first time. They were ushered into the kitchen and Reg smothered a smile as she asked if the milk can had been scalded, reminding him again of his previous experience of farmers’ wives. He fleetingly wondered if they were the same everywhere.

When Rachel asked if they could buy some eggs, she indicated a basket on the table. “I was just going to collect them. If you’re not in a hurry, you could wait.”

“Shall I come and help?”
asked Reg. “We keep chickens at home and I’m used to collecting eggs.”

She looked at him keenly. “You don’t come from round here, do you. Where are you from?”

“Yorkshire. It’s hill farming country and we’ve mainly sheep on the hills and some cattle in the valleys, but everyone keeps a few chickens. We’ve a pig at home as well.”


She handed him the basket and, trailed by Rachel, they made their way across the yard to a large enclosure where the chickens were already clucking with impatience to be let out of their coop.

As they walked back to the farmhouse, Reg carrying the basket of eggs, Mrs Hill nodded. “You’ve got a way with chickens. Lots of folk stir them up and make them nervous. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a job?”

Reg looked startled. “I’m afraid not.”

“A pity. We’re that short handed. It’s a busy time of year for us with the hay making and lots of the boys who went off to war are not coming back. They’ve found easier work in the towns.”
She sighed. “I can’t blame them really. There’s not much for young folk round here.”

Rachel paid Mrs Hill for the eggs and milk, together with some rashers of bacon and a loaf of bread and, thanking her again, they left by way of the pump where Reg filled two large cans with water.

“It’s the same at home.” Said Reg as they walked back to camp. “Lots of the younger people are not coming back.”

“It’s been going on a long while – ever since the invention of the steam engine. I think the war just accelerated it.”


They arrived back to find both Christopher and his father were up and had lit the fire and put the kettle on. Over breakfast, they discussed what to do that day.

“Low tide will be around nine o’clock so I suggest we walk right along the beach to Hunstanton and spend the day there. It will give you a chance to see the cliffs, which are pretty spectacular and then we can walk back by the promenade this afternoon, or even early in the evening.”

Rachel agreed. “I think that’s a good idea. Once you two boys have seen the route back, you’ll be able to go by yourselves another day.”

“What is there in the town?”
Christopher asked, doubtfully. “We don’t want to waste a day in a town unless it’s special.”

Rachel and Jacob exchanged a smile. “I keep forgetting you boys haven’t been to a real seaside town before. If they are open again now, there’ll be fairground rides and penny arcades where you can play the machines. There used to be pony rides on the beach before the war so they may have started them again. We just forget all our dignity for a day and eat chips out of newspaper and, if they have it, there’s candy floss! ”

“What’s candy floss?”
Christopher got out, marginally ahead of Reg.

“Oh, my! Spun sugar.” Said Rachel, rolling her eyes. “You lads do have a lot to experience. Go and change into clean shorts and shirts.”

Christopher and Reg looked at one another. “Let’s go! ” they said in unison.

“Put your swimming trunks on under your shorts and bring your towels. If it stays as nice as this, we’ll go swimming.” She shouted after their retreating backs.

Soon they were walking along the beach, the boys each carrying a knapsack with towels. The tide was nearly a mile out and a mere glint on the horizon. They passed Old Hunstanton and saw the white tower of the lighthouse on the edge of the cliffs.

“I’m afraid it isn’t working any more.” Said Jacob. “It was turned off in 1914 when war began and has never been switched on since. There’s not as much sea traffic along this coast as there used to be.”

As the cliffs came into view, they saw that they were in three distinct layers, white at the top, red in the middle and a brownish colour at the base. Jacob explained that these were chalk on top with a red chalky limestone under it and that the bottom layer was carstone, a sandstone with quite a bit of iron in it which accounted for the brownish red colour. There were piles of jumbled rocks at the foot of the cliffs and the beach was littered with large rocks.

“We’ll come along another day and see if we can find fossils. Keep well away from the bottom of the cliffs though, there are often rockfalls.”

“What sort of fossils?”

“Ammonites, belemnites, brachiopods and even sea urchins and sharks teeth. I have to warn you that the ammonites are rare and we’d be lucky to find one.”


The pace inevitably slowed as the two boys could not resist looking at every rock they passed and it was only with difficulty that Christopher’s parents kept them moving at all. As they came near the town, the cliffs disappeared and they could see that the town itself was set back on a promontory with a wide expanse of grass extending down to a promenade. They were soon walking along the beach in front of a high sea wall which ran for a long way. The beach was punctuated by wooden walls, leading out to the sea and Christopher’s father explained that they were called groynes and helped to break any heavy waves.

There were more people about here, and people were paddling and swimming in the sea. Deckchairs were scattered along the sand and children were building sandcastles while their parents sat and watched.

Rachel sighed. “Do you realise this is the first year anyone’s been able to do this since 1939? A lot of these children weren’t born then.”

They climbed a flight of stone steps to the promenade above and walked along till they came to a row of wooden kiosks. Some of these were selling cups of tea and light snacks which people were taking on tin trays to their families on the beach and some, though they looked a little bare, were doing a brisk trade in buckets and spades, shrimping nets and cheap ornaments. A rack of postcards stood outside one and Reg was keen to buy one to send to Auntie.

“I’d buy one for anyone you want to send to now.” Said Rachel, speaking from experience. “It’s easy to keep putting it off and then doing it in a rush at the end.”

Reg and Christopher decided to send joint cards to the rest of the inseparables and also to Jimmy. Reg also wanted to send one to the Maynards and chose one of three kittens dressed in old fashioned bathing costumes for the triplets. The cards looked rather old and were probably from before the war but nothing appeared to have changed so they were well satisfied.

The found a small fairground with dodgem cars and a few rides, including one with galloping horses which looked very much like the one which had visited Polgarth with the fair on Sports Day. Neither of the boys had a great deal of pocket money but they decided to have a go on the dodgems and Christopher’s parents surprised Reg by joining them. When they had finished looking round, they left the fairground and bought ice cream from a nearby stall, walking farther along the promenade while they ate them.

“I need to do some shopping and I don’t suppose you boys are interested so, now you’ve got your bearings, I suggest we split up and you can stay down here while we go into town.” Said Rachel as they reached the edge of the main town.

“Don’t go in swimming without us. How long do you think the shopping will take, Rachel?”

“I should think half an hour will be enough but let’s say an hour to be on the safe side. We’ll meet at that fish and chip stall at the end of the first row of stalls we passed.”


Reg and Christopher wandered off along the promenade till they were nearly out of the town and then decided to walk back on the beach paddling along the water’s edge.

They found a flight of stone steps which went down to the sand in two flights with a turn half way and ran down, laughing and joking. Christopher, who was ahead of Reg turned to say something as they turned the corner and cannoned into a girl coming up. They both went tumbling down the steps, shouting as they went, narrowly missing the girl’s companion, who shrieked and turned to run down after them.

Christopher found himself lying on the sand with the girl on top of him. She rolled off and sat up. Sitting up he found himself looking at his own face. Curly, corn coloured hair in a ‘Bubbles’ crop, periwinkle blue eyes with dark lashes and eyebrows. She stared at him with a look of astonishment on her face and as they each lifted a hand to rub a bump on the head they said, in perfect unison “Ouch!” .

Reg and the girl’s companion arrived at the foot of the stairs in time to witness this and stood stock still, with eyes wide and their mouths open.

#30:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 8:16 pm
    —
The cliff was very appropriate for the end of this episode, Pat. Thanks, it's good to see Reg enjoying himself.

ETA: I've had a look at it on the net, and it seems that Popham had the cut made to drain more land for himself.


Last edited by Jennie on Mon Jun 12, 2006 8:25 pm; edited 1 time in total

#31:  Author: groverLocation: Dublin PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 8:21 pm
    —
Aaarrgghhh,didn't see the cliff coming at all! *hanging onto a ledge by fingertips* Nice one,Pat! Very Happy

#32:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 8:40 pm
    —
Ooooh, do they know her then?

Thanks Pat, absolutely lovely episode - as always.

#33:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:42 pm
    —
"Bubbles crop, periwinkle blue eyes" One CS girl springs to mind but it's not her. I wonder who it is.

#34:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 4:12 am
    —
Thank you, Pat! Very Happy

*wants to come along*
(except for falling down the steps Laughing)

#35:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 9:15 am
    —
Do I detect a bit of romance?

#36:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 9:53 am
    —
Hmmm - also wondering if they know her.

Thanks Pat.

#37:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 10:32 am
    —
I wonder who she is?

Thank you Pat.

Oh and we did collect the eggs ourselves...from the fridge!

#38:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 11:37 am
    —
Thanks, Pat. I wonder who the girl is. I'm glad they're having such a wonderful time.

#39:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 12:26 pm
    —
Is this love at first sight? Very Happy

#40:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 4:29 pm
    —
Hehehe!

Thanks Pat, fab as always!

#41:  Author: ChelseaLocation: Your Imagination PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 4:55 pm
    —
Lovely scences Pat.

But, what are "dodgems"? I'm thinking bumber cars, but really have no idea.

#42:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 6:43 pm
    —
First of all these are dodgems here

Next, I think we have to wait quite a while for any romance. Christopher is only 13 at the moment Confused

Finally, Sugar gets the gold star for guessing the identity of the girl Razz


“Are you all right, Bubbles?” Reg pulled himself together and then gaped again when both the seated figures said “I think so.”

Reg looked at the other girl who, he thought, was about his own age and quite different, having straight black hair and smoke grey eyes. She looked shaken and had gone white.

“Here, sit down. ” He said hastily and pulled her down to sit on the bottom step beside him. “Put your head between your knees.”

The other girl jumped up and rushed across. “ I’m all right. It was only a tumble.”

As Christopher also got to his feet, Reg saw that they were certainly different in one way. Even allowing for the fact that she was older, she was built on different lines and quite tall. Christopher came across, looking worried.

“I say, I’m most awfully sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

The tall girl flashed him a grin. “Neither was I as it happens. Typical of me, I’m afraid.”

“Me, too.”
Said Christopher with an identical smile.

The dark haired girl raised her head from between her knees looking a lot better.

“Thanks.” She said to Reg. “I’m not normally so silly. It just happened so suddenly and they did go with an awful crash.”

“You know what they say – no sense, no feeling. That’s me.”

“Are you two related?”
asked Reg

The two wrinkled their brows in exactly the same expression and Reg caught the other girl’s eye. After a moment’s struggle, they gave in to their mirth and were soon well away and leaning against one another, helpless and howling with laughter.

“Not that I know of.” Said Christopher’s double doubtfully. I’ve never seen you before in my life. Stop it, you two! It’s not really funny from our point of view.”

“Everyone says I’m just like my Pa. What about you? Who are you like?”

“I’m a hop out o‘ kin. My twin brother is fair but he doesn’t have curls and neither of my parents look like me. It’s a mystery to be solved, though. Are you here on holiday?”

“Yes. We’re with Christopher’s parents and camping on the dunes beyond the old village. What about you?”
answered Reg, wiping his eyes with his hanky.

“We’re here with my sister in law, Ruth. She’s gone to do some shopping. We’ve rented a cottage in the old village for a few weeks. I say! We’re supposed to be meeting Ruth any minute now and we’ll have to go. Can we meet up again?”

“We’re going to hunt for fossils under the cliffs tomorrow morning. Could you join us then? You’d meet Christopher’s parents and they might be able to shed some light on it. Prepare for a shock though. Mr Hanson is so like Christopher, we’ll think we’re seeing treble instead of double!”


Hastily the girls agreed and rushed off, turning to wave as they reached the promenade. Reg shouted after them.

“Hey! What are your names?”

“I’m Gay and she’s Jacynth. What’s your’s?

“Reg.”


Christopher and Reg crossed to the water’s edge and, carrying their sandals, splashed along the shallow water, discussing the encounter.

“You know how when people say you look like someone, you just can’t see it yourself?”

“Not really. I know Auntie says I’m like my Dad sometimes but I don’t think it’s so much looks as the things I do. Though I know he did have my unmanageable hair.”

“Sorry. I forgot you don’t know all your family. If you’re like your Dad, there may be other people in his family who look like you.”


Reg stopped. “I’ve always just thought of Auntie as all the family I have. I never thought about Dad’s side. There was Aunt Sarah who looked after us after Mum died but I wouldn’t count her. She went off to Canada anyway.” He pulled a face. “His Dad died when he was young and I think his Mum died later but I seem to remember meeting an uncle when I was little. I don’t even know his name and he never came when Dad died so perhaps he doesn’t care.”

“Perhaps he couldn’t. Or perhaps your Aunt Sarah didn’t tell him? Though I can’t think why.”

“I can!”
said Reg, grimly. “She tried to do me out of everything my Dad left me. I only found out after Easter. I’d rather not talk about it because it makes me so angry. It all came out because Auntie has changed her will to make Doctor Maynard my guardian till I’m twenty one if anything happens to her. She thought I ought to know that so she told me why. I can’t do anything about it though. Auntie might be upset if I suddenly start looking for some more family. She’s been really good to me, you know and she would think she’s not enough.”

“M’mm. Your Auntie is great. She always jokes with us through the train window when we get to Leeds. I can see why you wouldn’t want to upset her. Perhaps you could just work it into a conversation – you know – without asking outright. Then at least you’d know.”


Reg was doubtful. “If I get a chance I might. Perhaps, someday. Anyway, what were you saying about being like other people?”

“Usually, I can’t see it myself. Take that dratted ‘Bubbles’ painting. I don’t think I look anything like that, except for the hair. I do know I look like Pa. We even think alike sometimes and come out with something at the same time. It drives Ma mad. It was the same with that girl – what was her name again?”

“Gay.”

“Yes, Gay. It was like looking in a mirror. Till she stood up of course. She’s nearly as tall as you.”

“Even then, she’s a lot older than you and she’s only a girl. You might grow a lot taller yet.”

“Unlikely, I should think. Ma and Pa are both short.”

“They are, aren’t they. I feel all big and clumsy beside your Ma.”

“Talking of whom, she’ll have a fit if we’re late meeting them. She’s a right stickler for punctuality. We’d better get a move on.”


They decided to go up to the promenade at the next steps so they could make better speed and arrived outside the Fish and Chip stall to find Christopher’s parents waiting.

“I’m sorry if we’re late. We had a bit of an adventure.” Reg apologised.

“It’s all right. We only just got here ourselves. Adventures sound interesting but let’s get something to eat before you tell us. I’m hungry, even if you aren’t. Fish, chips and tea all round?”

The boys nodded enthusiastically at Mr Hanson as the delicious smell of fish and chips reminded them that they had breakfasted early. Soon they were sitting on the grassy bank behind the kiosks, eating cod and chips out of newspaper as Rachel had promised.

“Why does food taste better out of doors?” asked Christopher as he licked his fingers to get the last taste from them.

Rightly interpreting this as a rhetorical question, his parents made no reply and, as his mother gathered the paper together to dispose of in a bin, she asked, lightly. “You said you had an adventure? Since you’re both all in one piece, I presume it didn’t involve pirates or American gangsters?”

To her surprise, both boys hesitated.

“It’s your family.” Said Reg

“But you’re impartial.” Christopher countered.

“What’s our family got to do with it?” asked Jacob, raising his eyebrows.

Reg took a deep breath. “We had a bit of an accident on some steps and Christopher crashed into a girl who was so like him it was almost uncanny.”

Jacob looked slightly sceptical. “In what way.”

“Well, she looked just like him, though she was older than me. The same hair, eyes, dark lashes just like you two.”
His gesture included Jacob and Christopher. “Even the same chin. Then they had the same gestures. It was weird. Honest. I’m not making it up.”

“Really, Pa. It was like looking in a mirror.”


Jacob frowned. “It just seems so unlikely. I’m like my Grandmother, though I’ve never heard of anyone else who took after her. Did you find out anything else?”

“No. They were late and rushed off. We told them we were going to hunt for fossils along the base of the cliff tomorrow morning and they said they’d try to meet us then.”

“They?”

“She was with another girl.”
Explained Reg. “Nothing like her and I don’t think they were the same family. They were staying with Gay’s sister in law in a cottage at Old Hunstanton. Gay was the one who was so like Christopher.”

“Gay? That’s an odd name. What was the other girl’s name?”

“Jacynth.”

“Well, we’re going to have to wait and see if they turn up tomorrow.”
Said Jacob, rising to his feet. “I thought I knew all my relatives but maybe not. Let’s move on for now and then we can go swimming when we’ve digested our dinner.”


The next morning found them, complete with a small hammer and a book about fossils which Jacob had brought with him for the purpose, hunting among the rocks lying scattered along the beach at the foot of the cliffs.

At first Reg and Christopher found it was harder than they expected and were rather frustrated so Jacob spent some time showing them what to look for and before long they had found a few belemnites and this improved their confidence.

“Pa!” called Christopher. “I’ve found something different.” Jacob and Reg converged on the large piece of white chalk, he was kneeling beside. “Well done. That’s a shark’s tooth.” Said Jacob.

“Can you get it out of the rock?”

Jacob examined it carefully.

“I can try. See that crack? I think it will go all the way through and if I can lever that apart, the rock should split just right.”

He rummaged in his knapsack and brought out a small chisel. Carefully he inserted the edge and tapped it gently with his hammer and the sharp blade slid into the crack. He repeated this in three places and, suddenly the rock fell apart, releasing the fossil. Jacob handed it to Christopher who held it so that he and Reg could examine it carefully.

“Thank you Pa. How old is it?”

“Oh, around ninety eight million years old.”


Christopher looked up at the white chalk on the cliff far above them. “So that cliff was at the bottom of the sea nearly a hundred million years ago. We’ve been taught about things like that at school and there are fossils in the limestone, but this makes it seem more real.”

“ Have they mentioned continental drift at school?”

“Yes, but it’s not been proved, has it. Wasn’t it the idea of a German scientist a long while ago.”

“That’s right. It was 1912, if my memory is correct. Alfred Wegener was his name and he wasn’t a geologist at all. He was a meteorologist. People have noticed that fossils in each continent are the same as those in others. There’s been a lot of argument about how this could be and he tried to show that all the continents were just one originally and then drifted apart.”

“So he thought Africa really did once fit together with South America just like it looks as if it ought to?”

“Yes, but he couldn’t show how they moved and so his ideas have never really caught on. If it could be proved, it’d explain things much better than the usual theories. Wegener was laughed to scorn by geologists, partly because he wasn’t one of them and because he was German. I’m afraid no one in Europe wanted a German to be right about anything after the Great War.”

“What happened to him?”

“He moved to Austria in the end and the University of Graz created a special post for him in ‘meteorology and geophysics’. He died in 1930. Since then, most geologists have still rejected his ideas. I’ve heard some clever people say they think he was on to something, though.”


Reg was about to ask a question when he saw three figures coming along the beach. “They’re coming. Those two girls we met yesterday.”

Everyone turned to look as the two girls approached, accompanied by a very dark woman, probably in her thirties.

Now, perhaps you’ll believe me, Ruthans!” Gay’s clear voice broke the stunned silence with which Christopher’s parents were struck as they looked from Gay to Christopher and back again. Jacynth and Reg grinned at one another and Jacynth came across to stand with Reg, slightly apart from the others.

“I think Ruth thought we had a touch of the sun.” she said in an undertone.

“Christopher’s parents weren’t that bad, but they did think we were exaggerating! Not surprising really. Let’s leave them to it for a bit. It’s none of our business after all and I’m sure they’ll tell us all about it when they’ve sorted it out.”

They went nearer the sea’s edge and wandered along the beach. Jacynth looked back over her shoulder once and sighed, causing Reg to raise his eyebrows in query.

“I was just thinking how nice it would be to find some family. It’s not likely to happen, though.”

“Don’t you have anyone?”

“No. My father died before I was born and my mother when I was a couple of weeks old. My Auntie brought me up and then she died about three years ago. Gay’s family and my school have taken me on but, although they’re incredibly kind, it’s not quite the same.”

“My Mum died when I was born and my Dad when I was seven. I’ve only got my Auntie – well, she’s my Great Aunt really – and I don’t know how I’d manage without her. She’s arranged for a friend to be my Guardian if anything happens to her, but he’s got a big family already.”


Jacynth smiled at him in understanding. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. And now,” she went on more briskly, “Since it appears we’re a matched pair of orphans, tell me more about yourself. I can tell you come from the North East, Yorkshire at a guess.”

“Got it in one!”
Reg matched her tone. “You haven’t got as much of an accent as I have but you’ve got the Northern ‘a’, you know, ‘path’ instead of ‘parth’, so I’m going to guess you’re from the North East as well.”

She nodded. “Just outside Newcastle. Your turn.”

“How old are you? I’m fifteen, I’ll be sixteen in November.”

“I’m sixteen, going on seventeen. My turn. Do you know what you’re going to do after school?”

“I’m going to be a Doctor. The friend who I mentioned, is paying for me to go to school and then on to college. We’re really quite poor so there’s no way I could have done it otherwise. What are you going to do.”

“I’m hoping to study music. That will depend on getting a scholarship, though. Gay started teaching me the cello when I first started at the school, three years ago, and then the Music Master took me on for free. One of the Heads gave me the ‘cello that belonged to her sister who died. I’d never have been able to have one otherwise – I’m rather frighteningly poor as well.”


Reg grinned. “I was really scared when I first went to boarding school. I was behind the others and I was a bit afraid they’d look down on me for just coming from a country village. I’ve made really good friends though – Christopher’s one of them and he’s coming home with me for a couple of weeks after this trip.”

“I was much the same. Auntie was too unwell to come to the station with me and Mrs Harper, our Doctor’s wife, saw me off. I’ll never forget how afraid I was. Gay was on the same train and she was so helpful and friendly.”

“I’d never been away from home before. It seems like a long time ago now.”

“That’s because we’re getting old.”
Said Jacynth with a laugh. “Do you think we should look over our shoulders to see how they’re doing?”

“Let’s.”

#43:  Author: PatLocation: Doncaster PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 6:57 pm
    —
So when do they find out that have so many friends in common then?

#44:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 7:00 pm
    —
Thank you Pat!!!

So, waiting for two things now, to see if Christopher and Gay ARE related somehow, and if so how, and to see whether either Reg or Jacynth will ..mention the Maynards...

#45:  Author: ChelseaLocation: Your Imagination PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 7:22 pm
    —
Yup those are bumber cars!

Love the conversation between the 'orphans'.

#46:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 8:16 pm
    —
That was lovely - will they find out? I suppose it depensd - I'd have thought that either the San or the name Maynard would come up in conversation somewhere!

Thanks Pat - yes, a few more years before the proof for continental drift is discovered - at the bottom of the ocean.

#47:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 8:53 pm
    —
*sticks star to jumper with tape*

Thanks Pat - I knew it HAD to be Gay but I'm intrigued. Got a couple of ideas though.

Pleased Jac and Reg are getting along too.

#48:  Author: MLocation: Winchester PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 10:08 pm
    —
This is great, they must discover soon that Gay and Jacynth are at the Chalet School soon.

#49:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jun 13, 2006 11:08 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. Well done, Sugar! I had no idea at all. I am really looking forward to the moment when Reg realises that Gay and Jacynth are at the CS and they all know the Maynards.

I told my Mum, that this place called Hunstanton was mentioned and it seemed a really lovely place. I found it on the internet as well. She told me that she went there on her holiday when she was 3.

#50:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 1:58 am
    —
Have just caught up with all of this and it's great as ever! It's lovely to read about places that you know. And I'm very intrigued by all the possible points of connection here!

#51:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:26 am
    —
Thanks Pat. I do love Christopher - he's hilarious!

*hope's they turn out to be related!*

#52:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 7:36 pm
    —
If you don't know Hunstanton this may help set the scene here There's even a webcam Razz

For more about the fossils try this one Somewhere, hidden in a box and untouched for many years, I too have a shark's tooth.




Jacynth and Reg turned and saw Rachel coming towards them. As she saw them turn, she waved and then beckoned.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“That’s all right, Mrs Hanson.”
Jacynth reassured her. “We thought we’d wander off and get to know one another. It turns out we’ve quite a lot in common.”

“If you tell me you’re related, I shall probably have a heart attack!”

“Not that we know of.”
Said Reg. “Have you sorted it out yet?”

Rachel shook her head. “Everyone is still puzzled but there’s got to be some link.”

They had walked back to join the others as she spoke and it was decided that their discussions could be improved by a cup of tea so they strolled farther along the beach and Rachel and Ruth went along to the first steps they found to fetch a tray from one of the kiosks. The others sat down to wait.

“You’ve still got your shark’s tooth?” Reg asked.

Christopher fished in his pocket and produced it, carefully wrapped in his hanky.

“Here it is.”

He passed it round and Gay and Jacynth exclaimed over it. “Ninety eight million years old!” Christopher explained. “Amazing, isn’t it.”

As Christopher and Reg had done earlier, the two girls looked up at the cliffs towering above the beach with awe.

“Our Science Mistress says it’s possible England was on the equator once. I suppose that would have to be right for sharks to have been swimming here.” Said Gay. “It’s one thing for her to tell us and quite another to actually hold something that proves it.”

Jacob looked at her with interest. “What else did she say?”

“She was telling us about a theory by some chap early this century that the continents had all been one at first and then had drifted apart. I can’t remember his name but he was German. It wasn’t part of what we had to learn for School Cert Geography – in fact she told us not to mention it because it’s controversial. Her main subject is chemistry and we’d been doing some tests on various rocks. We had a few minutes before the next lesson and she usually drops something in to fill the time if that happens. I remember it was jolly interesting.”

“She’s interested in geology, then?”

“She’s interested in everything! I remember some more about it now. She was saying one of the reasons the geologists wouldn’t consider it was that the chap wasn’t a geologist. We got on to talking about what she called ‘over specialisation’ and how it holds back progress.”

“A very far sighted woman.”
Said Jacob with approval.

“Are you a geologist, Mr Hanson?” asked Jacynth, a little shyly.

Jacob shook his head. “No, but I’ve always found it fascinating. That’s probably why I was particularly interested in Wegener. I also always like the simplest theory – and his is a lot simpler than some of the ones around!
I’m really a Mathematician but I spent most of my student days being warned about getting sidetracked by things that interested me. I remember one Professor telling me I’d never amount to anything because of it. I also remember I didn’t much care that he said it!”


Reg and Christopher jumped up as they saw Rachel and Ruth appear at the foot of the steps and ran to meet them and carry the trays. When everyone had settled with their thick earthenware mugs, Ruth gestured to Jacob to bring Reg and Jacynth up to date.

“We’ve not found a connection but we’ve got a few clues. Ruth is going to write to her husband, who is Gay’s older brother to see if he has any ideas. Then he will write to his parents who are in China to see if they know anything while I contact some people in my family.

We think it would be somewhere on the maternal line in both families, and that’s just going by the facts we know. That’s the side which seems to carry blue eyes and blond hair in both families AND the rampant curls crop up from time to time. I’m rather like my mother’s mother. Ruth, who is not just Gay’s sister in law but also her cousin several times removed and related by Gay’s mother, remembers an old photo of a woman who looks like Gay and she thinks it was a great aunt on her mother’s side.

That means that Gay and Ruth have Jewish ancestors because my mother’s family were Jews. In fact, in the eyes of the Orthodox Jews, they are Jews because the line is always counted through the mother.

“I thought being Jewish was a religion, like being a Christian.”
Reg was immediately diverted. “Isn’t it?”

“No. It’s more like a nationality. You’ll remember the Hebrews had their own land, Israel or Judea as we call it until the Romans drove them out.. The religion is really called Judaism. Hitler wanted to wipe out the Jews as a race.”

“I didn’t realise that. I’d just assumed it meant the same thing.”

“The odd thing is that I’ve been often been asked if I’m Jewish. I’ve got the typical looks, dark hair, dark skin and, of course the family nose which Gay has escaped.”
Ruth drew her finger down her rather prominent nose. “Even my name fits, though lots of non-Jews use it of course, but I was named for my Great grandmother. Now, of course, I’m wondering if it has any significance. No one in the family has ever suggested we might have Jewish ancestors.”

“Lot’s of Jews didn’t admit their ancestry because of persecution. Some even change their name to avoid recognition. Even in England there’s been prejudice. It’s less than a hundred years since Jews were barred from entering parliament or getting degrees from Oxford or Cambridge. I need hardly tell you how it's been over the past few years."

“It’s going to be difficult because the surnames will change, won’t they? If your mother’s mother had a cousin who was Gay’s great, great something, you might never find out.”
Reg was thinking about his own family now. He knew if his father really did have a brother, as he seemed to remember, he would be an Entwistle. On the other hand he would never find out about his grandmother Entwistle’s family. He wouldn’t know where to start.

“Exactly. It could just be coincidence, of course, though I must admit, the more I look at you three, the less likely it seems. It’s going to take some getting used to!” Rachel looked at Ruth. “How long are you here for?”

“Just over another week. My husband, who is Gay’s brother, is in the RAF and abroad again at the moment. I’ve two little ones who are staying with a friend while we take a break and then, when we get back she’s leaving her two with me while she and her husband go away. Gay’s twin brother comes back from staying with a school friend then as well.”


Reg and Christopher looked at Christopher’s parents.

“If you boys want to stay here for the week, I’m sure we’ve no objection. It means we won’t see quite as many places as we planned down the coast but there’s plenty to do round here.” Jacob agreed to their unspoken plea. Belatedly he turned to Ruth. “If you’re happy with that, of course.”

Ruth looked at her two charges and receiving emphatic nods of agreement, said. “That’s fine with us.”

“Good. Will you show us how to collect fossils, Mr Hanson? We’d love that.”
Said Gay, as she handed the shark’s tooth back to Christopher.

“I’d be glad to. I’d not mentioned this to the boys yet but we are planning to go to Grimes Graves on Friday. A friend of mine is excavating there this summer and he’s offered to show us round. It will be a long drive from here but it’s doable. Would you like to come with us?”

“I’ve never heard of it, I’m afraid. Who was Grimes?”
Ruth spoke for the four young people as well, who were looking puzzled.

“It’s a prehistoric flint mine at Brandon in Thetford Forest . Grimes is probably a corruption of the name Grim who was a pagan God.”

“You mean flints for making arrow heads, spears and axes? In the stone age?”
Gay asked, her eyes wide. “I always assumed they just picked them up off the ground.”

“Yes. It was probably started around four thousand years ago. There lots of shafts going down around thirty feet or so. There were several places that made flint tools for trade. There’s at least one firm in Brandon still making flints for flint lock pistols, even now. We’ve got quite a big car so we could all fit in.”

“I’d love to do that. Ruth, do say we can.”

“It sounds fascinating and we accept.”
Said Ruth. “In the meantime, the tide is coming in and it’s a good time to swim. Have you brought your swimming things with you?”

“Got ‘em on under our shorts.”
Reg grinned. “We reckoned it’s hot enough to dry off afterwards.”

“So have we. I hate changing under a towel.”


Reg and Jacynth rushed up the steps to return the tray of empty cups and soon, they were all in the water. Reg was fascinated by how the salt water made him more buoyant and was shortly some way out and swimming parallel with the beach beside Gay, who was a strong swimmer.

When they finally stopped and trod water, they were some way from the others and Gay, after spluttering a little, was quick to compliment Reg.

“You’re an awfully good swimmer. Where did you learn?”

“In the reservoirs near home. This is the first time I’ve swum in the sea, though. It’s great. You’re not so dusty yourself.”

“I mainly rely on my arms. I play a lot of tennis and it strengthens them, no end. I learned to swim in the sea, but that was off the coast in China before Mum and Dad sent me home at the beginning of the war.”


Reg laughed. “With me, it’s my legs. Cross country running is my sport. How old were you when you came back to England?”

“About nine, 1937, to be exact.”


Reg looked puzzled. “That’s before the war began.”

“Let’s get to shallower water. If I’m going to explain that, I need my breath!”


Once they could stand up, she continued.

“Not many people over here seem to realise that the Japanese invaded China in 1937, long before the Americans got involved. I suppose no one in the West cared till Pearl Harbour.”

“That’s news to me.”

“You and the rest of this country! You’ve no idea how many people don’t know about it. Anyway, that’s when we were sent home and we’ve lived with Tommy and Ruth ever since. At least we can get letters through now, even though they take forever.”

“One of my friends at school is Greek and his parents were out of touch all through the war. It must be pretty awful.”

“It was.”
Said Gay “Even now, things are chancy over there. At least we’ve got Ruth. It must be dreadful for her when Tommy is away as well. Let’s go out to where it’s deeper and race back to the others. Come on.”

Over the next two days, friendships were cemented in between fossil hunting, swimming, playing cricket on the sand, flying kites on top of the cliffs and picnicking.

Reg, always willing to learn something new, was fascinated by Jacynth’s love of music. She had brought her ‘cello, being unwilling to be parted from it for even two weeks and Reg went back to the cottage with her to hear her play on the Tuesday afternoon. She brought her instrument out into the garden and Reg laid on the grass and listened, enthralled. Some of the music he recognised and some was new to him but it was all beautiful.

Rachel and Ruth developed a friendship which they had both lacked over the past few years due to moving around following their husbands during the war. Ruth, only just thirty five, had been bringing up her own two children and her husband’s brother and sister, who were too near her in age for her to feel confident as a parent. Now the war was over but Tommy was away yet again and, with all the children at school, she was feeling at a loss.

“I wouldn’t do anything differently, it’s just …. “

“It’s not enough, is it? I nearly chewed the carpet a few times during the war. Christopher was away at school and I never knew when, of even if, Jacob would be home. I was an Air Raid Warden but we were well out of the main bombing areas so even that didn’t amount to much. Now we’ve moved to Cambridge, I’ve managed to get back into my old work again and I feel better about everything.”

“I’ve been wondering about going back to teaching.”

“Is it what you want to do?”

“Yes. I always loved it.”

“Then, do it!”


Ruth laughed. “When you put it like that, it sounds so simple! You’re right, though. I’ll write to Tommy about it.”

“Don’t write to him. Just do it and tell him afterwards. It will save argument.”


Ruth looked shocked. “I’m not sure what his reaction will be.”

“All the more reason to do it and then tell him. How long is he away for?”

“He’s not expecting to get leave before Christmas, if then. He’s out in Palestine now.”

“Well then …. You’ve time to find a job, settle in and show him how well it is working by the time he comes home. I’ll bet he’ll be off again after his leave.“


Jacob was, quite simply, in his element. All four of the youngsters were interested in anything and everything. Geology, palaeontology, geography, history, music – anything he could share, they were interested in.

Christopher and Gay, however were not getting on as well as everyone expected. In fact, Reg and Jacynth were coming to the conclusion that they didn’t like one another much at all. Occasionally, they met head on and their arguments were fierce.

#53:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 7:45 pm
    —
I know this beach VERY well, Pat. It was one of the scenes of my *courting* days, Laughing as Ray came from Dersingham nearby. It's a beautiful place.

Thank you.

#54:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 8:00 pm
    —
So funny reading this and knowing both sides - but knowing that they don't! The convoluted tale of possible relationships is typical EBD too.

Thanks Pat.

#55:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 9:09 pm
    —
I've been to Grimes Graves! When I was younger than Reg, so quite a while ago Very Happy

Thanks Pat - lovely to see the friendships developing.

#56:  Author: NinaLocation: Peterborough, UK PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:13 pm
    —
Oooh Hunstanton! That's our nearest proper beach *bounces*

It's lovely to see this back - between the previous two instalments I read Swallows and Amazons at long last Very Happy

#57:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:20 pm
    —
I think I must have been as well, as the name is very familiar.

As I was typing this some memories resurfaced. We stood on a funny mound thing with a man who was dressed up and had a special stick thing which was used for throwing spears an extra long way.

#58:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:32 pm
    —
Brilliant - What a convulated relationship though!

#59:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 3:36 am
    —
I took James to this beach ten years ago in the depths of winter when we were visiting my parents-in-law in Peterborough and he wanted to see an English beach.

This is all fascinating Pat, and it makes Gay's family so much more substantial. I loved the comment about Reg always wanting to learn something new - and Miss Wilson being interested in everything.

#60:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 6:14 am
    —
I never guessed Gay....

Love the way so many interesting topics made it into these posts. Very Happy

I call those dodgems bumper cars -- so close to Chelsea's word, but not quite. Amusing difference in emphasis there, dodging vs. not. Mr. Green

#61:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 10:08 am
    —
Thanks, Patmac, this is fascinating, and brings back so many memories.

#62:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 11:41 am
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Lovely - still waiting for them to realise though!

Thank you Pat.

#63:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 2:27 pm
    —
Thanks Pat. Fascinating insight into Gay's family, as everyone's alrady said. I love Reg's thirst for knowledge and all things new.

*g* at Christopher and Gay!

#64:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 6:58 pm
    —
“Don’t worry about it.” Advised Jacob, on the Wednesday afternoon, as Christopher and Gay stalked off in opposite directions after yet another squabble. “They’ve neither of them met their match before and it will do them both good in the long run. Don’t look so worried, you two. If it goes too far, I’ll have words with Christopher. I’ll not have everyone’s holiday spoiled.”

“It’s not just Christopher’s fault.”
Ruth added. “Gay is old enough to know better. If you’re going to speak to Christopher, I think you should speak to Gay as well. She may listen to you more than to me. She just thinks of me as a big sister.”

“Come on, Reg and Jacynth. Let’s go and get ice cream. People who wander off in a huff miss out on things like that. We’ll bring some back for you two, if we remember.”
Rachel, deftly extricated Reg and Jacynth from the other adults and led them up onto the promenade.

“I’m an only child, too.” She said as they walked along, dodging the children who were running up and down. “The first time I saw my husband arguing with one of his brothers, I thought they would come to fisticuffs. It took me a while to get used to it.”

“But, Christopher’s an only as well.”
Said Reg. “And he’s not like this at school. I’ve never ever seen him go off in a temper.”

“And Gay doesn’t argue with Mike like that and he’s her twin. I’ve never seen her like this, either.”

“I think the problem is that they are just too alike. From what Ruth has said, I gather Mike is an easy going sort of chap who muddles through. It’s Gay who sets the pace at home. I’ll bet she does at school as well.”


Jacynth nodded.

“Well, there you are then. There’s a big difference in their ages but Christopher is used to holding his own with older boys and so he doesn’t see that Gay is feeling challenged by him.”

They had stopped in the middle of the promenade and Rachel, suddenly realised that they were blocking other people.

“Let’s get onto the grass so we can talk. We’ll be mown down if we stop here.”

They found a free spot on the grass and sat.

“I went on holiday with some people last year who were all one family, brothers and sisters and cousins. It was a bit of an eye opener and I couldn’t believe how much they argued and had problems getting on.” Said Reg rolling his eyes. “Gay and Christopher are behaving just like that even though they’re not related – or not that we know for sure. Even if they are, they’ve not been brought up together. They only met a couple of days ago.”

“They’re awfully alike though. I’ll bet neither of you actually confront them when they’re wrong?”


Jacynth and Reg looked at one another. “That makes us sound rather spineless.” Said Jacynth, ruefully. “The trouble is that Gay is right most of the time. She just gets there quicker than I do.”

“Christopher does too. He thinks of things our crowd have never thought of and he’s two years younger than us.”

“He’s like his father. He still surprises me by coming to a conclusion long before I’ve even taken the facts in. My mind works in a straight line but he seems to take shortcuts – and come out right! It got him into a lot of trouble at University. I think it would have got him into more if he wasn’t such a charmer.”


Reg and Jacynth both laughed. “I overheard one of our staff say Gay could charm the birds from the trees! I think she was a bit exasperated at the time.”

“And Christopher does his innocent ‘I’m only a little boy and butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ routine to get out of trouble.”

“Is it spoiling things for you two? Be honest, now.”


Jacynth looked at Reg. “Well, I can’t pretend I like it. I can stand up for myself if I have to, but I don’t enjoy seeing two people I like so … so … “

“At odds with one another.”
Reg finished for her. “At least they’re keeping it to themselves. Christopher’s not said a thing about it to me but he’s just not like himself. I do find myself waiting for the next explosion.”

“Gay hasn’t said anything either. In fact, in a strange way, I think they’re enjoying it!”

“They may be but we’re not. Let’s get ice creams and I’ll take Ruth and Jacob theirs while you go off and do something else for a bit. They are both concerned and we’ll see if we can find a way to sort it.”


Jacynth and Reg wandered off eating their ice creams and Rachel went back to the beach.

“Here you are.” She said, handing over the wafers. “I suggested Jacynth and Reg go off for a bit while we discuss how to handle our problem pair. It is going to have to be sorted, I’m afraid. It is upsetting the other two more than I realised. I don’t think we can wait for them to work it through.”

Jacob groaned. “Christopher’s behaving just like I did. I really thought we had avoided that.”

“Nonsense. You can’t blame yourself for Gay’s attitude anyway. If anyone’s to blame there it’s me. I’ve had the responsibility for her since she was nine and perhaps I should have been firmer with her. The trouble is, she’s so often right! . Can you explain how you felt when you were young? It might help me to understand Gay. Mike’s easy – he’s just Tommy all over again. Gay’s another kettle of fish and I sometimes feel she’s older than me.”

“I was a lot brighter than any of the boys in my form and I was really impatient with them because they couldn’t see what was obvious to me. It didn’t help that the subject I liked best was Maths! Unfortunately, I was also rather like Christopher – small and quite capable of putting on a pathetic act to get out of trouble.

When I got to University, I found there were other people just as bright and I was still more than prepared to argue every point with them.” He grimaced. “I’m surprised no one knocked me down for it – looking back, I was appallingly arrogant. I lost a lot of friends that way. Christopher seems, up to now, to have escaped that – probably by being with boys who are a couple of years older and more on his level.”

“I wouldn’t say Gay is arrogant. She’s very self confident though and quite prepared to act on anything she is sure she is right about, no matter what anyone says. She’s a good all rounder at school but her first love is her music and she’s really good. Mind you, Jacynth is even better and Gay doesn’t seem to mind that.

Back to the main subject. You seem to know a good deal about a lot of things but you don’t seem in the least arrogant. In fact, I thought you must be a teacher, you explain things so well. What changed you?”

“Thank you Ruth, I take that as a real compliment. As to what changed me? I suppose I could claim to have outgrown it but that wouldn’t be honest. It was more that I met someone streets ahead of me.
” He looked proudly at Rachel. “She may not flaunt it but Rachel is considerably ahead of me in the brain department. I may be Dr Hanson but Rachel is the double Dr Hanson. Yes,” he continued, proudly, as Ruth looked at Rachel in some awe. “Rachel took a first in Maths, then got a scholarship to study at MIT.”

“That’s in America?”

“Yes. She collected two Doctorates over there – one in Maths and one in Physics.”

“I was lucky in an odd way. I’d no family and no attachments at the time and my studies were more important than anything in my life. I’d got as far as I had through scholarships because my parents didn’t have the sort of money to put me through Grammar School, let alone College. There was no way I was going to get any farther in England! I was one of only two women who graduated in Maths from Oxford in my year. My Professor had connections over there and I was offered a scholarship to MIT. I jumped at it and was over there for ten years. It wasn’t easy because, even over there, some academics think women will get brain fever if they think, but it is possible.”

“I went over to a Conference and Rachel was one of the speakers. We got to arguing over her paper. She won the argument.”

“We wrote to one another and, when I came back in 1930, we started courting. Enough of our history. What are we going to do with those two?”

“I think it’s probably my job. I know pretty much what they are feeling because I’ve been there. If there had been someone to talk it through with me when I was young, it would have saved me a lot of problems.”

“Jacynth said something that was interesting. She thinks they are actually enjoying it.”


Jacob nodded. “That’s very perceptive. Looking back, I can see what she means. I think they are enjoying the argument till it comes to the point where neither will back down, but I should imagine they are pretty miserable then.

I don’t think there’s any point in beating about the bush with them. They’ll come back here eventually so why don’t you two go off and find Reg and Jacynth and I’ll wait here for them. It may take some time to deal with but if I can’t, we’ll have to move on. We can’t spoil the holidays for the other two. What are we doing for supper tonight?”

“Let’s have it at the cottage, unless you’ve got anything planned that will spoil. That way we can get Jacynth and Reg to join us back there and wait in comfort. Let’s say we plan to eat late – about seven?”


Rachel gave Jacob a quick hug and the two women climbed the steps to the promenade. Jacob lay back on the sand, to all appearances relaxed but inwardly rehearsing how he would handle two very bright but obstinate young people.

*

Christopher kicked a rock and yelped as he stubbed his toe. He sat on the rock, threw off his sandal and rubbed his foot. “Stupid girl! It’s all her fault.” He muttered. “Thinks she knows everything!”

Gay climbed over a groyne and glared at a family sitting inoffensively on the other side. She stomped on till she reached a deserted part of the beach and threw herself to the sand. “Stupid boy! Thinks he’s always right!”

“It’s all her fault. I don’t argue with anyone else like that.”

“He’s a brat! He gets my goat like no one else does.”

#65:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 7:20 pm
    —
*giggling* bless them!

Thanks Pat Smile

#66:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 7:32 pm
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Bang their heads together! Laughing

Very impressed with Rachel - knew she was bright.

Thanks Pat.

#67:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 10:38 pm
    —
*giggles*
Oh dear! They ARE alike, aren't they!?

#68:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 11:49 pm
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Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Ruth and Rachel, Jacynth and Reg are getting on with each other. I hope that Gay and Christopher will be able to sort things out.

#69:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 12:35 am
    —
How very perceptive they're being, - and how caring of the adults to want to understand why this is occurring rather than just telling Gay and Christopher to stop being so confrontational. Although at the end of the day, they might have to point out just how this is affecting the others.
And most excellent Rachel - you go girl!

#70:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 9:12 am
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Ditto what everyone else has said - most impressed with Rachel and love the way you are showing Gay and Christopher struggling!

#71:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 1:23 pm
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Wonderful, I'd say it must mean that they are related.

#72:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 4:11 pm
    —
*giggles*

How real!

Thanks, Pat Very Happy

#73:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 6:07 pm
    —
Slowly, Christopher walked miserably back along the beach to where he had left the others. Once his temper had worn off, he felt ashamed. The last time he had really lost his rag was with Molyneux. That had been different because he was standing up for Reg but, even then, Pa had talked to him about how he could have managed it differently. He wondered why he kept losing it with Gay. If she’d been a boy, he’d have punched her. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like her, after all. She was clever, funny and a jolly good sport.

Gay, also retracing her steps, felt even worse. At nearly eighteen and a prefect she really shouldn’t lose her temper with a kid like that. If he’d been a girl, she’d have pulled her hair. Why he was only the same age as Sybil Russell and, even though she could be a little pest at times, she never felt like shouting at her! He was a nice kid, too, very clever and he had a wicked sense of humour. In fact, she decided, she liked him most of the time.

Jacob had hired a deckchair. Sitting on the sand without something to lean on made his back ache and he had no idea how long it would be before they came to their senses. It was just as well, for it was over an hour before he saw two figures converging on him from opposite directions.

“I’m sorry.” Muttered Christopher, scuffing his foot in the sand. “I shouldn’t have lost my rag.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s worse for me to lose mine because I’m older. Where are the others?”

“They’ve gone off for the afternoon. They’re pretty fed up with you two and you didn’t expect them to sit meekly waiting for you, did you?”


They both looked chastened.

“Do you know where they’ve gone? We could go and find them and say sorry.” Christopher suggested, brightening up a bit.

“ Saying sorry should mean you won’t do it again and you both apologised yesterday evening after supper. I shouldn’t imagine they’ll believe you again within twenty four hours.”

They both looked upset again and there was silence for a minute or two.

“Sit down, the pair of you and try and tell me why this is happening. You’re both intelligent young people and I gather you’re neither of you like this with anyone else.”

“I don’t know why.”
Said Christopher, morosely, as he sat down. “It just sort of gets out of hand.”

“Well, either we sort it out now or we leave here tomorrow morning. You both brought friends with you on holiday and you’re spoiling it for them.”

“I’m not sure I can put it into words, but I’ll try because I really don’t want us to part on bad terms, especially because it will be my fault and we might never see you again ‘cos I suppose you’d be afraid we’d spoil things again.”
Gay took a deep breath.

“It’s fun at first. If I’m going to be honest, Christopher is the first person I’ve ever met who can keep up with me in an argument and is interested in lots of odd things and not thrown by a change of subject. I’m not pretending I’m brighter than everyone else but, somehow, I can see the answer quicker and I’m interested in lots of things and they all link up in my mind - even odd things like that chap Wegener – well, I didn’t remember his name but I have remembered the name of the original continent. It was Pangea. I’m sure a lot of the other girls have never given it another thought. They weren’t in the least interested in it.”

It all came out in a rush and she took another breath and carried on.

”Jacynth’s a dear and I don’t mean she’s not clever because she is but she’s very … I don’t know how to put it, sort of one track when something comes up. Am I making any sense?”

“Well, you are to me!”
Christopher had been nodding agreement all the way through. “I’ll give you an example. There’s six of us, all really good friends. There were four of us till Reg came but he just fitted in.” He held up his hand and gave a wobbly grin as Gay opened her mouth to protest that his numbers didn’t add up. “I’ll come to the sixth in a minute, honest.

Last term one chap told us he’s not staying into the Sixth Form. None of the others had thought that we’ll be split up then anyway. We’re almost certain to be dormitory prefects so we won’t sleep together. Some of us will probably be sub-prefects or prefects, even. We’ll have to take Junior Tables at meals, supervise prep and we’ll be specialising like mad. I’d worked it out ages ago that this next year is the last for us as the Inseparables but they were dumbstruck when I said it and they’re all two years older than me.

Reg is really clever but he’s not as quick as me to put things like that together but I’ll tell you where he is better than me. He’s really good with people. He saw that Fourakis was getting really down about having no word of his parents because of the war and he just went and did something about it. Now Fourakis is one of us and that makes us six. If any of us have a spat about something, it’s Reg who somehow puts things right. He’d never get as het up as I’ve been. He’d find a way to stop the argument before it got to a row.”

“That’s like Jacynth, though I’d not thought of it till you said that. Gill, who makes up our trio is better at that sort of thing than I am as well.”
Gay looked a little guilty.

Jacob, who had sat back in the deckchair and let them get on with it, now leant forward. “So, now tell me why you get so cross with each other.”

“I still don’t know!”
said Christopher, throwing his hands in the air.

“Is it because we’re too alike to get on?” asked Gay. “I’d honestly not like that because it means we’re both too full of ourselves and can’t cope with someone the same.”

“It’s part of it but it’s more because you’ve never learned to control yourselves in an argument with friends, because you’ve never had to. You probably are right most of the time because your friends do take longer to think things through and you don’t give them time. You’ve also got what Christopher’s mother calls ‘flypaper minds’. All sorts of things stick in there and it means you know a little about a lot of things so you fly off at a tangent and complicate things.. That’s good, don’t get me wrong. Where it does go wrong is when you think you know more than you do. I’ve been watching you both and you’ve argued seven times in two days – and you’ve each been right three times and once you were both wrong.”


They looked at him in amazement, neither having thought of the possibility of being wrong.

“So what do we do to stop it, Pa. I like Gay and Jacynth and, if we have to leave because I can’t keep my big mouth shut, I’d be really upset and the holiday would be ruined anyway ‘cos I’d feel so guilty at spoiling it for everyone else.”

“Me too. I feel awful at upsetting you all. We’re just going to have to be very careful. Now we’ve brought it out in the open, surely we can?”

“If you can, you’ll both be stronger people in the long run. I don’t want you both struck dumb though for fear of starting an argument – that won’t solve anything. You need to agree a signal that can take the heat out of it. Christopher, I’m sure you’ve heard your mother call me ‘Dearest one’ with a sickly smile which is not at all like her?”

“I’ve heard her. She says it when you go off the subject in company. I don’t think anyone else knows what it means.”

“It started as a way of stopping me doing what you two are doing without making a big thing of it. Oh, yes!”
he continued as they looked at him in disbelief. “The first time we met, I argued with her in public and left in a right little tantrum because I was sure I was right. I wasn’t as it happened!”

“I was just like you two but no one stopped me till she did – and I was twenty six by then. I came near to ruining my career as a result of it.”

“I can’t imagine you stomping off like I just did.”

“Believe it! I think you’re alike because you share a common ancestor, somewhere in the past. Have you heard of the work of Mendel in heredity and how dominant and recessive traits work?”


Gay nodded. “We did quite a lot about Darwin and, reading about him led me onto Mendel and zygotes. Then I found something about chromosomes and genes. I did try to apply it to our family and I could see some things – like the family nose, which I don’t have! I suppose you are saying that Christopher has inherited your temperament. And if I’m related then it’s come out dominant in me from somewhere, too.”

“I didn’t get as far with it as Gay did but I will now ‘cos it sounds really interesting. You’re trying to tell us that we can control it, if we learn how? Not like these dratted curls that tangle up no matter what I do.”

“It’s not a bad analogy, actually. What happens if you don’t brush your hair regularly?”

“It gets get more and more tangled. I hated brushing my hair when I was younger because it hurt. I remember once Ruth had to actually cut a tangle out for me because it got so bad. Now, I brush it every time I go to the splasheries. So, even though it’s difficult, I can control it if I make the effort. Is that what you mean?”

“That’s exactly right. At the risk of straining the analogy, if you two don’t regularly brush your self control, someday someone will cut you out of his or her life – and it might be someone who is important to you. If Christopher’s mother hadn’t been a very special person, she’d not have bothered to help me through this. I’ve been lucky – you might not be.”


Jacob watched the two as they thought it through. He was reasonably sure Gay, at seventeen would understand him but Christopher was only thirteen and, however bright he might be, he was to all intents and purposes a child. Still, it had to be said. There might not be another chance later.

“We’re meeting back at the cottage for supper at seven. Have you got enough money to buy something to keep you going till then?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ve more than enough for both of us, anyway.”
Gay still sounded subdued.

Jacob nodded and walked off along the beach, leaving them sitting there.

“I feel a bit of a worm.” Said Christopher. “I actually like you a lot, you know.”

“I like you, too. It would be a lot easier if I didn’t. Let’s go and get an ice cream and then work out how we can get along better.”

“And find the right brush to stop our self control getting tangled!”

“That, too!”

#74:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 8:57 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that they are going to make an effort to get on with each other.

#75:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 10:01 pm
    —
Thanks Pat - glad that Jacob was there for the pair of them - otherwise they could have had a very unhappy few years.

#76:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 11:44 pm
    —
Very sensible conversation!
Hope it works out.

#77:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 11:53 pm
    —
Well done Jacob Very Happy

Thanks, Pat

#78:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Jun 17, 2006 12:09 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat.

#79:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sat Jun 17, 2006 9:24 pm
    —
Thank you Pat!!

Will we get to discover how they're related?

#80:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 10:40 am
    —
Thank you Pat, really intersting and Jacob was very good with them letting them do most of the work and just helping them along.

#81:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 6:55 pm
    —
Vikki wrote:
Will we get to discover how they're related?


Not yet, Vikki. They haven't found the missing link yet. Twisted Evil



Rachel and Ruth knew exactly where they would find Reg and Jacynth and, sure enough, they were in the fun fair, watching the dodgems. After reassuring them that Christopher’s father was going to sort out the problem their friends were having, Ruth insisted they accept half a crown to spend on rides and they cheered up immediately.

“I know money doesn’t solve everything.” She said to Rachel as they walked up to the town to the greengrocers. “But a few rides on the dodgems will help. I’ve never heard Jacynth shriek with laughter till yesterday when she rammed into Reg.”

They bought some tomatoes, new potatoes and lettuce from a greengrocer and then walked along to the farm to buy some eggs and more milk and fetched a large tin of Spam from Rachel’s store at the camp.

While Ruth boiled some potatoes, washed the lettuce and sliced the tomatoes, Rachel made some pastry and lined a tin, into which she poured a mixture of eggs, grated cheese and milk to make a flan. By the time it was in the oven, the potatoes were cooked and set to drain and cool. Ruth had some onions in the larder and they chopped them up small for the potato salad, opened the tin of Spam and sliced it. Once all was put on the stone shelf in the larder, covered with muslin against flies, they laid the table and then stood wondering what to do next to fill the time.

“We’ll make a cup of tea and take it in the garden.” Said Rachel decisively. “It won’t do for any of them to come back and find us looking worried.”

Jacob arrived, looking cheerful, as they were carrying the tray out.

“I was ready for that.” He said appreciatively after taking his first sip.

“How did you get on?”

“I think they’ll sort themselves out. Don’t look so worried, Ruth. Gay has a good head on her shoulders and, once she understood why it was happening, she was quite determined to overcome it. I think she’ll be a great help to Christopher as well.”

Ruth gave a tremulous smile and blinked rapidly. “If Gay is determined, then she will see it through. I’ve never met anyone so stubborn about things.”

“I’m sure she will.”
Rachel handed her a hankie. “Here, wipe your eyes. You’ve done a really good job in bringing her up, you know. She’s a lovely girl.”

“Thank you. I was only twenty six when I took her on and I really don’t think I was old enough to cope with nine year old twins. It wasn’t too bad at first because Tommy was there. Then he was away on and off right through the war and I had my two as well, I’d felt out of my depth but I couldn’t bother him with it. He’d got enough on his plate. Mike is easygoing but Gay is so different. She’s not rude or anything, just so old for her age in some ways and so … logical in her arguments, it’s easier to agree with her.”

“You couldn’t do otherwise, dear. I was only a year younger than you are now when I had Christopher and I had practice with Jacob before then. I don’t know how I would have coped if I’d been younger.”


Ruth made an effort and handed the hankie back. “I’m all right now. Even if we never prove it, I’m sure we’re related. You seem to understand Gay better than I do.”

Reg and Jacynth arrived soon after Jacob, looking quite cheerful. They didn’t mention the other two immediately and began an account of the afternoon’s activities.

“We had two goes on the dodgems. We shared a car and I drove once and Jac drove the second time.” Reg started.

“Then we went on the pier and rode on the little railway.”

“It’s really funny. It’s just like a real train but tiny. It has a whistle and there’s smoke and everything.”

“It even smells like a real train. The man has a proper uniform, just like a real train driver – he’d even got an oily rag sticking out of his pocket.”

“We got ginger beer at the end of the pier and watched people on the beach for a while and then walked back.”

“It’s a bit odd looking down between the planks and seeing the sea underneath.”

“I bought a postcard of it so I’ll remember it.”

“There were some people going out in a boat to see the seals. Could we do that one day?”
Jacynth paused. “If you’re staying, of course. I forgot about Gay and Christopher not getting on.”

“We’ll see when they get back. I think we got to the bottom of it and they’ve gone off to see if they can sort themselves out. I’m fairly confident.”



Gay and Christopher walked along the top of the cliffs in silence till they had finished their ice creams. Both were a little shy of starting the conversation they knew they needed to have and were thinking furiously about how to begin.

“I’m really sorry.” They said in unison and stopped in their tracks.

“Oh, hang!” exclaimed Gay. “I might have known we’d both start at once.”

There was an awkward silence and they started walking again.

“Do they really call you Bubbles ?” Christopher ventured.

“They used to and I hated it. I don’t think anyone would now and they’d better not or I’d have something to say. Reg was lucky I didn’t punch him.”

“I think he must have been rather shocked when we tumbled down the steps. He’s not called me that for at least two years. I hate that painting. Stupid women saying ‘Isn’t he sweet. He looks just like that picture.’ The worst thing of all was that they never spoke to me. It was always about me as if I couldn’t understand them.”

“And then they just have to pat the curls!”

“Chucking under the chin is worse.”


Gay giggled. “It was even worse in China. Most Chinese people have never seen blond curls. When we went out, I felt like an animal in the zoo.”

“Let’s sit down and talk.”

“All right. Where do we start?”

“You’re older than me and, from what you said, you’ve never found yourself in this sort of trouble before? Do you lose your temper about other things? ‘Cos I don’t as a rule.”

“Not really. I’ve done some mad things though because I was sure I was right. I ran away from school once.”

“Really?”
Christopher’s eyes were like saucers.

“There was a letter saying Tommy was going to the East and would like to see me before I went. I’d been in trouble and the Head said I couldn’t go. I felt I had to as there was a chance he’d see Mum and Dad.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran away in the night. I got everyone to lend me money for the train and promise they wouldn’t give me away till a certain time when it would be too late to catch up with me.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, I got into all sorts of rows at home but it was worth it. I mean, it was war time. What if he had never come back?”

“I think I’d have done the same. I don’t think much of your Head!”

“She was just a temporary one when our usual one was off ill after an accident and she was horrid. She left just after and I think her not letting me go was part of why they got rid of her.”
Unaccountably, Gay started laughing again. “I did set the cat among the pigeons though. As well as having everyone imagining I’d be kidnapped or something ridiculous, I brought German Measles back.”

“The most popular girl in the school!”

“Not so you’d notice. What I was thinking of was that Jacynth and Gillian, who are my best friends at school, gave in and did what I asked and so did some of the others, even though they were really worried about what would happen. I sort of took it for granted they would and I’m wondering what would have happened if I’d set my mind on something really wrong. Would they have still done what I wanted and what would I have done if they hadn’t.”

“You mean you might have lost your temper with them and they wouldn’t like you any more.”

“There’s that but worse than that, there’s also a bit of a nag at the back of my mind that I might be a bit of a bully. I don’t like that idea very much at all.”

“Lor! I hadn’t thought of it that way. You know what struck me most about what Pa said?”

“What?”

“We were each right three times and once, neither of us was! I was so sure I was right every time.”

“Me, too. You could have knocked me down with a feather when he said he used to be like that. You’d never know it now.”

“I think that’s the thing that cheered me up. If he can deal with it, we can.”

“Not on our own, though. He said your mother helped him.”

“I suppose we ought to talk to the others and ask them to help us like she does for him.”


Gay grimaced. “I suppose we have to.”

“Just so long as Reg doesn’t have to call me ‘Dearest one’ like Ma does to Pa!”

“I can’t imagine Reg calling anyone that. He’s so down to earth, he’d choke on it.”


At the thought of this, Gay’s mood changed. “Let’s do it. I think we’ve got to go back and eat humble pie and get the others to understand so there’s no point in putting it off. Come on.”

They climbed to their feet and set off along the cliff to the old Village. As they neared the cottage, Gay stopped once more.

“Do you always get your full name? Don’t you have a short? I’m Gabrielle really but no one calls me that – unless I’m in deep trouble.”

“I’ve never had any friends out of school and we’re always called by our surnames there so it’s never come up before. I think I’d like it though. Christopher does sound a bit babyish.”

“If there’s one thing you are not it’s babyish!”
Gay exclaimed. “All right, Chris. Let’s get this over with.”

#82:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 8:06 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Gay and Chris are really making an effort to get on with each other.

#83:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 8:26 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat, it's good to see them trying to get on.

#84:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 9:02 pm
    —
Nice to see them try and resolve their problems.

Thanks Pat.

#85:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 12:30 am
    —
They really are trying to understand why they react in this way and what sort of people they are. I loved the idea of Reg calling Chris "Dearest one!" Laughing Laughing

Thanks Pat.

#86:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 1:08 am
    —
Brilliant Pat as always. So pleased Gay and Christopher are going to try and make the friendship work.

#87:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 9:29 am
    —
Thank you Pat, love the way that sat and worked it all out before coming to the realisation that they realy were going to have to apologise and ask for help!

#88:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 1:07 pm
    —
Good for them! Very Happy

#89:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 1:30 pm
    —
Cath V-P wrote:
I loved the idea of Reg calling Chris "Dearest one!" Laughing Laughing

That made me chuckle too!

Thanks Pat.

#90:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 10:23 pm
    —
Ruth was keen for them to have supper straight away when Gay and Christopher arrived but, as soon as they said they would like to talk first, she sat down again.

“If no one minds, of course?” Gay added with unusual deference to everyone else.

“The thing is.” Christopher put in. “We’ve had to work ourselves up to this and I think food would choke me if I don’t get it over with. You go first, Gay.”

“All right, Chris.”
Said Gay with more insouciance than she felt and saw the expressions of surprise on everyone’s faces at the shortening of Christopher’s name.

“Mr Hanson explained to us that we can control our tempers and the way we argue just as we can control our curls – we both have to brush them regularly or they’re a right mess. Like now. So we have to control out tempers regularly, though not with a brush.” Everyone chuckled as they looked at Gay and Chris’s heads which were showing the effect of sea and wind.

We’re both really sorry that we’ve been such asses and we really do mean to stop it.”

She looked at Chris who took up where she left off.

“We’re going to need help. Once we’re off on an argument, we don’t remember that the other one could be right. We need a reminder that will bring us to our senses.”

Ruth would have spoken but, as Jacob shook his head at her, she subsided. He could see that the two were concentrating on their friends, not the adults.

Reg and Jacynth looked at one another.

“I think we need to understand a bit more about how it happens. If we’re going to help, we need to know when to butt in.”

“At first, I think you are enjoying it and, if we stop you every time you start to discuss something, you’ll be getting cross with us and that’s not going to help.”
Jacynth sounded doubtful.

“I suppose it’s when we get really worked up and start slinging insults – or a bit before if you can manage it. We know we get distracted and, what we end up getting really worked up about isn’t where we started anyway.”

Gay took up the explanation. “It seems that both our minds jump around a bit … “ She faltered and took a deep breath and said, rapidly. “No. That’s just an excuse. We’re both convinced we’re right all the time and I’m scared of being a bully with other people who don’t like to stand up to me.”

“Me, too.”
Chris looked at Reg, appealingly. “Do I really seem a know it all at school?”

Reg considered the matter. “Not most of the time. You sometimes don’t give the rest of us time to think things through, though. Now and then you make me feel a bit thick for not having thought about something.” He looked Chris straight in the eye and added “And sometimes I know you’re wrong but, unless it’s important, I wouldn’t tell you because I’d rather not have an argument – it would upset everyone else.”

Gay looked at Jacynth.

“You’re usually right, Gay. We’re being really honest here, yes?”

Gay nodded.

“I sometimes feel I’ve just gone along with you for the sake of peace. It doesn’t matter that, when I think it through afterwards, I agree with you. I just wish I’d had the chance to decide for myself – I feel sort of ….. dependent on you and I don’t like it.”

There was silence for a moment and the adults, intent on the interplay, might as well not have been present for all the four young people were aware.

Gay looked at Jacynth in sorrow. “I wish I’d known. I never meant it like that.”

Jacynth reached across and took Gay’s hand. “I know. You’ve been a tower of strength to me, Gay, especially when Auntie” she gulped “died.”

The silence seemed to stretch for a long while.

“Will you help us, then. ” Chris’s voice sounded very downcast.

Jacynth and Reg thought with an intensity of which they had not known they were capable. Reg looked at Jacynth and she nodded.

“I think you’re both very clever. You’ve proved it, Chris,” He deliberately emphasised the shortening. “You’ve jumped two years and still come out at the top of the form in some subjects. You’ve stood up for me, especially when we had that Molyneux problem. Of course, I’ll help you if I can. We’re friends.”

“Reg speaks for me.”
Jacynth said firmly. “How do we do it though?”

Chris looked at his father. “May I tell them?”

“Go on.”

“Well, Ma just says to Pa ‘Dearest One’ and he knows he’s getting out of control. No one recognises it – I suppose they just think she’s being a bit soppy.”

“That wouldn’t work!”
Jacynth was quite emphatic. “Everyone would think I had gone totally soft and they’d jump on me.”

“I know what would work!”
Reg was grinning broadly. “You’ve shortened Christopher’s name to Chris and it does sound more grown up. If anyone calls him Christopher or calls Gay, Gabrielle, it’s the signal. Let’s have supper now. I’m starving.”

Supper was a hilarious affair as everyone came down from the emotional high and it was fully dark when the Hansons and Reg made their way back to their camp by torchlight.

“Chris sounds so grown up.” Murmured Rachel as she and Jacob settled for the night. “He’s only thirteen, Jacob, just a little boy ...”

Jacob pulled her close. “He’ll always be your little boy, love, but you’ll only keep him by letting him go.”

“I suppose so.”

#91:  Author: PatLocation: Doncaster PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 10:29 pm
    —
Quote:
Jacob pulled her close. “He’ll always be your little boy, love, but you’ll only keep him by letting him go.”


How very true. I wish all parents would realise that. It's the most difficult part though - changing to the adult relationship.

#92:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 10:50 pm
    —
Thanks Pat - and well done to both Gay and Chris.

#93:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 12:16 am
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That was very interesting - and especially in that it was their friends, rather than the adults with whom they were trying to work this out.

And wise words at the end there...it's not easy shifting the terms of the relationship like that.

#94:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 9:15 am
    —
Thank you Pat, well done Chris and Gay and Reg and Jac too! And wise words from Jacob at the end there.

#95:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 12:27 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad they've sorted things out between the 4 of them.

#96:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 7:35 pm
    —
Lovely Pat!!!
And oh yes, the full name thing as a signal should work well!

#97:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 9:43 pm
    —
The two parties didn’t meet till after lunch on the Thursday. The Lamberts and Jacynth spent most of the morning washing as they were rapidly running out of clean clothes.

Jacob, with the assistance of Reg and Chris took the car to the local garage for petrol and to check the oil, water and tyres while Rachel spent a quiet couple of hours pottering round and preparing for the evening meal, having invited the others to supper at the camp.

As the tide would still be far enough out to provide access to the base of the cliffs, everyone had agreed to meet there after lunch and spend a quiet couple of hours hunting for fossils, followed by a walk as far as the fun fair before supper.

During the afternoon, Jacob was kept busy moving from one to another, advising, identifying, consoling when something was imagined. Ruth wandered off alone and had not called for Jacob for a good half hour, when he looked up and saw her kneeling in the sand, carefully examining a large boulder of chalk and tracing a spiral on the surface.

He walked over to her and knelt beside her. “What have you found?”

“I’m not sure. It could be nothing but it looks like a round spiral. I’m trying to persuade myself that it isn’t as you said ammonites are rare so it seemed unlikely but it does feel the right shape.”


Jacob ran his fingers over the shape. “It could be, in fact I think it is.” He knelt down beside her and looked more closely, before standing up and calling to the others. “Who has the hammer and chisel?”

Reg waved the hammer in the air and came running over, followed by everyone else.

“What have you found, Ruth?” Gay asked as she approached.

“It might be an ammonite but we’re not sure.” Ruth was trying to damp down her excitement.

“I’m going to need quiet while I try to get it out.” Jacob nodded his thanks to Reg who handed him the tools. “Where’s my knapsack? I’ll need a knife to scrape the surface to check.”

They all waited while Chris fetched it and then stood back, silently, as Jacob began carefully scraping the surface of the chalk. Without warning, a large flake became detached revealing the unmistakeable spirals of a large ammonite. Jacob grunted. “Now we’ve got to get it out of the chalk and I’m not at all sure how big it actually is. By the look of it, it’s a big one, It could be a foot across.”

He sat back on his heels and examined the rock again. “What I’d like to do is to get it out without attempting to clean it up and take it back to Cambridge. They’ve got the right tools and expertise to do it properly at college. I know a Geologist who is always looking for specimens for his students to work on. You’ve more chance of getting it in one piece that way. There’s no way we can get this size rock off the beach so we’ll have to do some work on it first. What do you think?”

“Would they do that?”

“There’s been hardly any fieldwork done during the war – there will be a queue a mile long to get their hands on it.”

“What would I do with it, once I’d got it back? It might be better to let them have it for their collection.”

“Unless it’s a very rare one, they wouldn’t want it. There’s literally thousands in the Sedgwick Museum. They’d prepare it and polish it for you. If you’ve got somewhere to display it, it would make a lovely ornament. It doesn’t look like anything much at the moment but I assure you it will look lovely once it is polished up.”

“Do say you will, Ruth. It would be a lovely memory of the holiday. Do you remember we saw some in a shop at Barnards Castle last year. They were beautiful but very expensive.”

“I’d forgotten that, Gay. They were lovely. Yes, please. If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”

“If we can find a decent size box and pack it well with newspapers, I can take it to Grimes Graves tomorrow and ask them to deliver it to Professor Bannister for me. They’ll have a big van with them so they can take it back in that. That’s if I can get this huge lump of chalk down to a size we can manage before the tide comes in.”

“Would you rather we all cleared off so we don’t distract you?”

“It might be better, Rachel. It’s going to take around an hour, I think.”


Reluctantly, all except Ruth moved farther along the beach to take up their searches again. “I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind. I’ll keep very quiet.”

“That’s fine. Just ignore my mutterings and pretend you don’t hear any swear words.”

“I shall just regard it as part of my education.”
Ruth responded with a grin.

Jacob chipped away at the chalk, removing sections from the ends and sides before looking for the right place to get under the ammonite to separate it from the remainder of the rock. At last, he stopped to mop his sweating brow and looked up. “So far, so good. I’ll start underneath now. There’s a natural fault which should do the trick but I’ll need it on it’s side and we’ll need some help to do that.”

Soon everyone was gathered round and Jacob, Chris and Gay heaved the rock over from one side while Reg, on the other side of the boulder, steadied it to stop it rolling all the way.

“Reg, you stay there and be ready to lower it gently to the sand as it comes away. Turn your head away while I use the chisel, just in case any chips decide to fly upwards. Gay, you be ready to help Reg if it starts to topple. The rest of you had better collect all our belongings together and be ready to get out of here or we’ll be trapped by the tide.”

Gay stayed with Reg, in case he needed help and the others scattered, stuffing knapsacks with towels and various small fossils they had found. “Loop your sandals round the straps.” Said Rachel, suiting action to words. “We may have to paddle part of the way. Chris, you get Reg’s stuff together, Jacynth, you get Gay’s. I’ll grab Jacob’s knapsack as we leave.”

A shout of triumph came from Gay and Reg as the rock split and Jacob leapt backwards to avoid the bottom part of the rock landing on his feet.

“That way!” Rachel pointed in the direction of Old Hunstanton. “It’s less distance to the end of the cliffs. Get going.”

Jacob, stuffed his tools in his knapsack and Rachel grabbed it from his hands. Reg lifted the precious ammonite from the ground. “I can manage this. It’ll be easier than two of us carrying it.”

Chris and Jacynth ran ahead to find the quickest way up from the beach as the tide was not far out now and no one wanted to struggle through the loose boulders at the foot of the cliff in the water. By the time they reached a path, the water was reaching the base of the rocks and they turned to see how everyone else was doing. Rachel and Ruth were not far behind them and Rachel urged them up the path. “We need to get above the tide so the others aren’t held up. Come on, let’s get out of the way.”

A moment later, Gay was with them and climbing as well. She climbed part way and then stopped, at a steep part and stood on a small ledge to one side. Looking down she could see the remainder of the party, splashing along with the ankle deep water, Reg walking carefully, still carrying the stone, clutched to his chest and Jacob just behind him.

Jacob splashed ahead as the water reached his knees, urged on by the longer legged Reg and, as he reached the path, turned to take the rock from Reg and started to climb, Reg just behind him with the bottoms of his shorts soaked.

Gay reached down and steadied Jacob as he passed and waited to give Reg a heave up the steep part. They were soon at the top and looking down to where the waves were lapping at the lower part of the path. Once they had got their breath, they slipped their sandals on and set off again to the cottage, Reg once more carrying the rock.

Soon, they were all sprawling on the grass, the adults drinking tea and the younger members of the party enjoying ginger beer while the precious rock lay safely under a shelf in the porch awaiting packing.

“Are you warm enough in wet shorts, Reg?” asked Rachel.

“I’ve got my trunks on underneath so if no one minds, I’ll take them off for a bit and let them dry. I’m really warm enough but they’ll dry quicker that way.”

“Shall we give the funfair a miss, today?”
Jacynth suggested. “It suddenly seems a long way to walk back into town. We could do that Saturday and we’ve got Monday as well, or are they open on Sundays? We didn’t go that way last week.”

“I expect they’ll be open on Sunday, and I wondered if we might go on the boat trip to see the seals on Saturday as Jacynth suggested. That’s only a couple of hours so we might as well make a day of it in town and do something else on Sunday.”


This met with enthusiastic approval from everyone as might be expected and the talk turned to the next days trip to Grimes Graves.

“I’m going to leave the experts to tell you the details.” Said Jacob when they asked him to tell them about what to expect. “I’ll set the scene, though. Do you know what flint is? Rachel, you may not answer this!”

There was a general shaking of heads.

“I’ve never even seen it before.” Said Reg. “Or at least, not that I know of.”

“I’ve seen it in buildings, but I’ve never thought of what it’s made of. It’s just stones like we have in the fields near Cambridge. Is it that special?”
Chris added.

“It’s almost pure silica. That’s the dioxide of silicon.”

“Si02” chanted Gay and Reg, in unison.

“Well done, you two. For those of you who don’t remember, Silicon – after Oxygen - is the most common element on earth, We find silica in granite as quartz, sand is usually silica and it is found in lots of other minerals as well. In the case of flint, it is formed from some early organisms and fossilised – but we don’t know how. We do know that it always occurs in chalk, wherever that is found throughout the world. Wherever we find flint, we find evidence that prehistoric man used it for tools.”

“I’ve forgotten most of the chemistry I learned at school but I do remember that glass is made from sand. Is there a connection?”

“Yes, Ruth. What happens if you touch a piece of broken glass?”

“Oh! I see. You cut your hand. So flint is sharp?”

“Once it has been knapped, yes.”

“Knapped?”

“That means working the flint. It is normally found in nodules. They vary in size from really small to quite big. If you break them open, they splinter into shards which are sharper than steel.”

“Why is it called knapping?”

“It used to be called knacking or cracking, it wasn’t till the last century that we called them knapped – that’s got a ‘k’ at the front, by the way.”

“knapen means ‘to crack’ in German and that has a ‘k’ at the beginning. Is there a connection?”
Jacynth wondered.

“Possibly. The rest will have to wait till tomorrow. I’ve recovered enough to fancy a walk now.”

Reg picked his shorts up from the grass. “Dry as a bone. Nearly as stiff as one as well, with all the salt in them!” He scrunched them up to soften them and pulled them on.

“You do look an urchin, Reg!” Jacynth laughed. “Your hair is standing up on end, you’ve a scratch on your arm and your shorts look as if you’ve slept in them.”

“I’m on holiday.”
He protested. “Matron isn’t likely to catch me. Anyway, if we’re trading insults, you don’t look much better. Your hair is coming loose and you’ve a smudge of dirt on your forehead, not to mention a big stain on your blouse.”

“Ah, but I can’t see me so it doesn’t bother me.”

“Such logic!”

“It is, isn’t it.”
Jacynth said smugly, though she fished her hanky out of her pocket to wipe her forehead clean. “I’ve changed my mind about the funfair now I’ve had a rest. Do we have time?”

“It’s a mile each way.”
Gay was sprawled on her stomach and looked as if she would rather not move.

“I’ll come.” Said Reg. “It’s not a proper day at the seaside without a go on the dodgems.”

“Have a couple of biscuits first.”
Suggested Ruth. “I was just going to suggest making another cup of tea.”

“You two are addicted to the dodgems! I think I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.”

“We don’t mind, Chris. Anyway, it’s a better addiction than opium!”

“Where did you learn about opium?”
Jacob raised his eyebrows.

“Sherlock Holmes! We asked Mr Douglas about it and he told us how dangerous it is.”

Ruth went with Jacynth and Reg to the kitchen and they were soon off, munching biscuits as they went and Jacob set off for a solitary stroll as Rachel followed Ruth to the kitchen and Gay and Christopher moved into the shade where it was cooler.

“Those two and their dodgems!” Rachel commented as she joined Ruth in the kitchen and took down tea cups from the dresser. “It’s good to see Reg having fun, though. He’s a bit too serious at times.”

“Jacynth has been short of fun in her life as well. I’m glad we met you.”

#98:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 10:55 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that they're all having a good time.

#99:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 11:01 pm
    —
A whole afternoon with no fights & no full names! Very Happy

*envies the fossil hunters*

Thank you, Pat!

#100:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 1:22 am
    —
That was lovely, especially Ruth finding the ammonite, and watching the way they cooperated over it.

#101:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 6:18 am
    —
That was lovely Pat - wonderful that they found an ammonite - and such a large one too. But someone should have told them not to risk the tide for it - it had been there more than 65 million years, another day wouldn't have mattered! Wink

Thank you.

#102:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 9:39 am
    —
Lovely. Thank you Pat.

#103:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 3:37 pm
    —
A good ole family holiday, fab! Very Happy

#104:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 8:34 pm
    —
Lesley wrote:
it had been there more than 65 million years, another day wouldn't have mattered! Wink


Perhaps I should have put a 'don't try this at home, children' warning on that post - the trouble is that I've experienced that thrill and also seen that just one tide can destroy a fossil Crying or Very sad

A lot of you have been to Grimes Graves, judging by the comments. Reg went there in 1946, long before there was a Visitor Centre and guided tours. I can't find any evidence of excavation in 1946 but the Reg bunny says there was. I visited for the first time not long after that and, although the records say the next serious excavation was in the '70s, I know that is not so.





It was only just past seven o’clock the next morning when Jacob pulled up outside the cottage. Willing hands made light work of loading the ammonite, now carefully cocooned in newspaper and encased in one of Rachel’s vegetable crates which normally held pots and pans.

Passing a picnic basket into Reg, Ruth climbed in, followed by Jacynth and Gay while Reg and Chris moved over to the dicky seats to sit facing them. Once Rachel was settled in the front with the map on her knees, they were off.

There was silence as they drove east parallel with the coast before turning south at Burnham Market and heading for Fakenham. The road was narrow and bendy and Jacob drove slowly but they made good time and entered Fakenham just after eight o’clock.

“Where have I heard of Fakenham before? The name sounds familiar.” Chris asked.

“Probably in a book. There’s a big printing works here.”

They drove on through a succession of villages and small towns. Toftrees, East Raynham and Weasenham passed by and they finally came to Swaffham, drawing up in the wedge shaped Market Square with a strange domed structure at the South end.

“That’s a strange band stand.” Jacynth said as they climbed out to stretch their legs.

“It’s not a band stand. It’s the Butter Cross.” Rachel sounded slightly amused.

“Well, it’s not a cross and there’s nothing to show it has anything to do with butter.” Reg jumped to Jacynth’s defence as she flushed.

“Sorry. You couldn’t know and it does look like a band stand! Buildings like that were built on the site of old Market Crosses and kept the name ‘Cross’. I suppose it made a better shelter than a basic cross as people became less religious. There are lots of them all over the country.”

“The buildings are rather smart. Most of them have slate roofs, not like the pantiles we’ve seen round here.”

“Well noticed, Gay. They’re mostly Georgian. It was a popular place for many years. They say Lord Nelson liked the town and Howard Carter came from here.”

“The bloke who excavated Egyptian tombs and died of a curse?”

“That’s right, Reg – apart from the curse bit. Howard Carter lived on for many years.”

“It makes a good story, though!”


There was a general laugh as they wandered over to the building.

“So did they sell butter here?”

“Probably – as well as everything else the farmers produced, Jacynth. There’s still a market here on Saturdays. We’d better get back to the car now and be on our way. These archaeologists start early and we want to get as much time as we can at Grimes Graves.”


There was no argument about this and soon they were pulling out of the market square and on the road again.

“It looks quite different here. This isn’t fenland is it?” Gay commented after a little while.

“No. It’s called Breckland and it’s quite different. The soil is sand and chalk and it gets less rain than anywhere else in Britain. It’s more like a heath than anything. They do say this was all forest at one time.”

“What happened to the trees, Mrs Hanson?”

“They got cut down as people cleared the land for agriculture and provide wood for fires. It was settled in prehistoric times and was the home of the Iceni as well.”

“That’s the tribe whose Queen was Boudicca, isn’t it?”

“That’s right Reg. Thetford, that’s the biggest town in the area, was the Saxon Capital of East Anglia. They do say that in the eleventh century it was one of the biggest towns in England. It was even big enough to mint it’s own coins and some of them have turned up in Scandinavia.”

“I wonder why. It’s miles from anywhere.”

“Don’t forget England wasn’t one big country then, Chris. It was all little kingdoms. The one thing it did have you can work out from the name.”


She looked over her shoulder and raised one eyebrow as the four children looked puzzled.

“I’ve got it. It’s a ford - Thetford!”

“Jacynth gets the gold star! A very early track called the Icknield Way went through here. In fact, the main road from London goes across the river here to this very day – over a bridge now, you’ll be glad to hear. Cars and lorries don’t do well in knee deep water.”

“We’re coming into a wood now so they didn’t cut down all the trees.”
Chris had twisted round to look out of the windscreen.

“This is Thetford Forest and a lot of it was planted after the First World War so it’s not really old at all.”

“Lot’s of pine trees. I think of them as mountain trees. We’ve plantations of them near home and there are loads in the Lake District.”
Reg sounded surprised.

“It’s mixed with broadleaved trees as well. It’s a nuisance at Grimes Graves because the trees are planted right over some of the pits. I’ll need your help to find it now, Rachel. We’ve never approached from this direction before.”

After a few minutes, Rachel pointed. “I think it’s down that side turning. It’s so long since we were here and it looks different with the trees all grown taller. There should be a five bar gate with a track leading through it.”

The crawled along and suddenly, half hidden in the trees was a track, with the gate standing open.

“I just hope this is right or there’s somewhere to turn if it’s not.” Jacob said as he eased the car through the gateway. “The last time we were here was in the little Austin 10 and I’d forgotten how narrow these tracks are.”

“Well, it must go somewhere so there has to be a place to turn.”
Said Ruth reasonably.

They bumped along the rutted track in low gear and, just when Rachel was getting ready to say it must be the wrong track, they came over a small rise, round a bend and into a clearing. The landscape was most peculiar with mounds and depressions everywhere. To their left were three large tents and a van, together with a rather battered looking car parked along side. Smoke rose lazily from a fire which had a large blackened kettle suspended from a tripod.

A long trestle table stacked with cardboard boxes was set up in front of one of the tents and, sitting on a chair at one end, was a dark haired woman, bending over a small object. As they climbed out of the car, she looked up and, flinging her spectacles down on the table, strode across to meet them.

She was like no woman Reg had met before. She wore muddy boots, topped with laced gaiters with baggy britches, tucked into them. Her long sleeved shirt was more like a tunic and loosely belted at the waist. Dark wavy hair was held in a bun at the nape of her neck and her skin was weather-beaten.

“Jacob! Good to see you, and you Rachel. This, I presume is Christopher. The last time I saw you, young man, you were about six months old and threw up all over me!”

“This is Professor Garrod, an old friend and an archaeologist. Dorothy, this is Reg, one of Chris’s school friends who is on holiday with us and the others are Mrs Lambert, Jacynth and Gay.”


They were each subjected to a keen glance as she shook their hands but when she came to Gay, she looked back at Jacob. “I didn’t know you had a niece this age, Jacob.”

“Neither did I and it’s a long story, Dorothy. We only met – when was it? Monday? We’ve no idea how or if we are related.”

“I’d say you’ve got to be. It’s not just the hair and eyes, though that’s unusual with dark lashes and eyebrows but you’ve the same bone structure. You’re left handed, I know Jacob. What about you two?”


Stunned by this forceful woman, Gay and Chris nodded.

“Now come on, Dorothy. They’re not specimens, you know!” Rachel said. “You’ll be checking their bones next.”

“Sorry. I do get carried away sometimes. Hazard of the job and all that but it is fascinating though!”


Professor Garrod beamed at them and the smile changed the severe lines of her face. Jacob turned to the four youngsters and Ruth, who were looking a little dazed.

“Dorothy is the first ever Woman Professor at Cambridge. She holds the Disney Chair in Archaeology and has worked all over the Middle East and in France.”

“Disney?”
said Reg, forgetting his shyness in shock. “Not … “

Professor Garrod burst into a peal of laughter. “No! Not Mickey Mouse Disney. Doctor John Disney. He was a barrister and collected antiquities and lived in Essex. He gave a lot of Greek and Roman sculptures to the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge when it was just starting up and endowed a Chair of Archaeology – which I now hold, despite the fact that the University still doesn’t accept women as full members.”

“Why not!”
exclaimed Gay in indignation. “What’s the matter with being a woman?”

“I’ve asked myself that question frequently! Rachel has hit the problem head on as well. She jolly well ought to be a Professor. Hell! She’s got more qualifications than I have.”
Catching Rachel’s eye, she grimaced. “All right, Rachel. I know you brought these young people here to see the flint mines, not to hear me carry on! Now, what do you know already?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid. There’s no flint where I come from and we learned about stone age man quite early at school and no one mentioned anything on this scale. . I think if you start from the beginning, we’ll be rather glad. Doctor Hanson has explained what flint is made of but not a lot else.”
Reg looked round for support and everyone nodded.

“Right. I’m here on a busman’s holiday. What I do for a living is to study what we call prehistory – before there were any written records. I spend most of my time dealing with bones, animals and humans, but there’s a lot more evidence as well. Everywhere we go we find similar tools. Flint is always found in chalk and chalk is found all over the world. So wherever humans travelled, they found flint. We think they must have found broken flints and realised they were sharp and then decided to have a go at making their own sharp edges.

They were a lot cleverer than people today give them credit for. I’ve studied skeletons of people who lived about the time this site was being mined all over the middle east and in Bulgaria and their skulls must have held brains much the same size as ours. Dress them in modern clothes and I doubt you’d see a difference. Come over here and I’ll show you something.”


They followed her over to the table and she picked up the object she had been studying when they arrived.

“Careful now. It’s sharper than steel.”

They carefully passed it round.

“Now, see what happens when I fit it to a stick with a notch in the end.”

She pushed the arrow head onto the stick and they could see that the notch held the arrow head in place.

“No one could have worked that out without a fair bit of intelligence. We think they wrapped strips of leather round the stick to stop it coming open – unfortunately, the shafts have usually rotted away over the years so evidence is scarce. There were different techniques for working the flint in different places so we are sure the technology was invented independently many times.

This area has a particularly good type of flint, known as black flint. It was good enough that they thought it worth while digging down into the chalk to find it and that is how this whole area came to be mined.”

“Why did they call it Grimes Graves? They knew if was a mine.”
Jacynth was enthralled.

“The name came later. The Anglo Saxons didn’t know what this was and they called it Grimes Grave. Grim is another name for Woden, a Nordic God.”

“So later people didn’t know what that they were mines.”

“That’s right. Europeans of the late middle ages considered stone arrowheads the darts of mischievous woodland elves. Large, Neolithic daggers of stone, supposedly the product of lightening bolts, were kept in a place of reverence within the home, for everyone knows lightning never strikes in the same place twice. Even today, you’ll find farmers who tie what they call hag stones to their horses’ harness to ward off witches.”

“Even now?
Jacynth sounded horrified.
“Well, it’s no different from hanging horseshoes over the door or throwing salt over your shoulder when you spill it – not to mention walking round ladders. There are three flint seams running through the chalk in this area and our ancestors dug shafts down to find them. It must have been a tremendous undertaking and suggests that they were more organised than we imagine.

When you think that the only tools they had to dig with were antlers of the red deer and their spades were shoulder blades of the same animals, it must have been hard work and worth while or they wouldn’t have done it.”


Reg gazed round the clearing. “How many mines are there? I can see lots from here and did they do it all at once?”

“We’ve not found them all yet but we think there must be three or four hundred. Mining lasted around two thousand years – as far as we can judge. What you can’t see from above ground is that there are tunnels or galleries as they would call them in modern coal mines which connect with other pits.”

“How did they get down there?”

“Ladders made of wood, Reg.”

“From the trees they cut down to clear the space.”


Dorothy nodded. “That’s right. They didn’t waste anything. The deer provided meat, tools and hides while the fat was rendered down and used for oil lamps. The trees made ladders, arrow shafts, axe handles and fire – probably housing as well. Much more efficient that we are in some ways.”

They four young people looked round. The people who had dug these mines seemed more real, somehow. Jacynth shivered. She could almost see the skin clad miners.

Reg put his hand on her arm. She looked at him and he smiled. “They’re not here now, Jac.” He said quietly. “They’re long gone.”

No one noticed as Jacynth slipped her hand into Reg’s for comfort. His touch banished the vision which had been accompanied by a strange, haunting melody. The melody stayed, singing in her mind.

#105:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 9:43 pm
    —
Sorry Pat, I do know what you mean re the fossil - and yes I suppose there is always the possibility of it getting damaged if left for the next tide!


Lovely episode - good to see Professor Garrod - and that she's got the Archaeology Chair - must have really miffed the dinosaurs at Cambridge!

Lovely picture of stone age man - and very poignant ending there - is Jacynth 'hearing' something from the past???? Shocked

Thanks.

#106:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 10:44 pm
    —
Quote:
They four young people looked round. The people who had dug these mines seemed more real, somehow. Jacynth shivered. She could almost see the skin clad miners.

I've had those feelings before - not about the flint miners, but about the WW1 soldiers when visiting the trenches in France. Something just made it so vivid - it felt like they were there with me.

Thanks Pat, fab as ever. I love the history lesson you give us (am shamefully ignorant when it comes to East Anglia and am fascinated).

Do I spy a fledgling romance between Jacynth and Reg? Or am I just being a sad old romantic?!! Laughing

#107:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 12:19 am
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Fascinating as ever Pat, and very thought-provoking. I loved Professor Garrod, and her way of seeing everything in structural terms, and the way Jacynth's moment of fascination gave her the impetus for composition.

#108:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 9:41 am
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Very interesting. Thanks Pat.

And no you're not the only one Jo...

#109:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 11:46 am
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Thanks, Pat, this is fascinating.

#110:  Author: KarryLocation: Stoke on Trent PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 11:54 am
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I am amazed that they hav'nt mentioned anything to do with Maynards or Chalet School yet!

Or have I missed it? Confused

#111:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 7:44 pm
    —
I don't usually include real characters in this - at least not with their real names. I've done it once before with Arthur Ransome who gets a mention in Part 9.

Dorothy Annie Elizabeth Garrod, (1892-1968) is someone I find fascinating. She really was elected to the Disney Chair in 1939, at a time when women could not be full members of the University of Cambridge. She was the first woman to be elected a professor in either Cambridge or Oxford. Archaeology still has few female professors, hardly any of those prehistorians.

Her election, which really pointed out the absurdity of the situation, and was an important factor in admitting women to full membership in 1948.

I've no idea if she ever visited Grimes Graves but I could imagine she would have and Reg insists she was there when he visited - well it's his universe so he must be right Wink

Anybody who is interested will find more about her
here and some photos which give a view of the real woman here



“It reminds me of something I’ve seen before.” Chris sounded puzzled.

“Some people say it reminds them of a First World War battlefield with shell holes. It’s ironic really when you think that they made weapons here all those years ago.”

As she spoke, Professor Garrod was leading the way across the clearing to where a group of young people were gathered, listening to an older man. As they drew closer, they could see they were gathered round a hole in the ground which had a ladder leaning against it’s side.

Seeing he had lost the attention of his group the older man swung round.

“Ah! You’re just in time, Jacob. We’ve made a late start today so we could get yesterdays work documented. I’m afraid we went down the pub last night and, for our sins, had to do it this morning. Let’s make quick introductions and get on. These are all students who’ve volunteered for this dig. We’ve got Morrow, Wainwright, Chapman, Clarke and Miss Bentley. I’m Doctor Henderson.”

He pointed to each student who smiled as they were introduced.

“I know a couple of you.” Said Jacob in response, nodding to Morrow and Miss Bentley. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Doctor Hanson and this is my wife, also Doctor Hanson – which means if you call for one of us you may get two replies or none. This is my son Chris and a school friend, Reg. Then we have some other friends with us, Mrs Lambert, Jacynth and Gay.”

Reg noticed that a couple of the young men were eyeing Gay and Jacynth with interest. He didn’t like that very much, though he wasn’t quite sure why, and moved closer to Jacynth, determined to stay with her when they went down the mine.

“We’re looking for anything that doesn’t belong here.” Explained Doctor Henderson. “That’s not just flint tools but the tools they used to dig the mines, which are mainly bone, also lamps – they will be lumps of chalk with a depression in the top which held oil. If you see anything that looks interesting, call one of us. We’d rather check something than miss it. We’ve only been here a couple of days, so we’ve not got far yet. Have you all got torches?”

“Yes. My wife and I have been down before.”
Jacob reassured him.

“I’ll act as native guide to our visitors so we don’t hold you up. We don’t want you to be distracted so you go ahead while I explain some more.” Reg was sure, from the glint in her eye, that Doctor Garrod had noticed the interest in Gay and Jacynth.

The main party made their way down the ladder and Professor Garrod turned to her charges.

“Jacob and Rachel will just have to possess their souls in patience as they’ve heard me lecture before. For the rest of you, this site is important. It’s pretty well unspoilt and that can’t be said for many Neolithic sites. That’s mainly because the mines have been filled in with rubbish by people who lived here later. That may sound boring to you but it means the interesting parts have not been disturbed before we got here.

Canon Greenwell dug down into a pit around 1868 and found that there were deep shafts and galleries. He was the first to discover the red deer antlers which showed how the mines were dug. He also found a stone axe and deduced that the mines were Neolithic.

There were lots of academic arguments following his work and it wasn’t till excavations in 1914 by Peake that further evidence was found which showed that it was indeed Neolithic. He found all sorts of things, including Grooved Ware pottery which was definitely the right period.

He found galleries and also antler picks scattered round the workings, and the remains of three different species of bats – proving that the shafts were not back filled immediately.

Then he dug into another shaft and found it went down about the same depth – thirty feet. That means a fair number of them are probably the same.

I won’t bore you with the details of the rest but what we do know is that the bottom seam of flint is the best – and that probably explains why they dug down so deep. Now we’ll have a look at the pit.”


With practiced ease, she swung herself onto the ladder and disappeared into the depths, leaving them to follow.

“I’ll go next. Will you go last, Rachel?”

With no further ado, Jacob disappeared down the ladder with ease. There was a moment’s delay and Gay stepped forward and was soon on her way down. Chris could hardly refuse the challenge and was next, followed by Ruth. Jacynth hesitated and Reg looked at her anxiously. He really wanted to go down but if Jac wasn’t going, neither was he.

Jacynth took a deep breath and banishing the music which the site had evoked, stepped onto the ladder, followed closely by Reg. Rachel followed them down and they all descended into the pit.

About ten feet down, the ladder ended on a plank platform, supported by the floors of galleries, and another ladder led down. This was repeated at around twenty feet and they continued descending till they reached the bottom.

Professor Garrod had moved to one side and, once they were all down, turned on a large hand lamp, showing clearly the almost circular space. They turned and looked round. The walls were of large slabs of chalk, some covered in algae as water had dripped down over the years.

All round the pit were openings, some so low that one would have to crawl to get through them, chalk pillars separating each one. The floor was sandy and surprisingly dry and, looking up, they could see where other holes pierced the walls all round the levels where the platforms were supported.

The sound of voices came from one of the tunnels and they could see the light from the students’ handlamps.

“We’re in the pit which Peake dug out and the students are in the next one which was Greenwell’s – he missed quite a lot and didn’t do much in the way of recording finds, I’m afraid. We’ve got four open so far.. As they backfilled the mines, some of the debris from new mines was just tipped in but they were also used as rubbish tips or middens as they were called not long ago. We archaeologists get very excited about rubbish. What our ancestors threw away can give us a lot of clues about how they lived. They’ve found bones from cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, horse and deer – that suggests they ate meat and probably used dairy products. The students who excavated the latest pit found evidence of textile production, leather-working, wood-working and pottery manufacture. There were seeds of wheat and barley as well, that shows they were cultivating crops.”

“We don’t put as much rubbish in the bin now as before the war. We have to save paper and we don’t throw any vegetable peelings in. They all go to make feed for the pigs and chickens or for compost for the vegetables. We save tin cans and glass and we’d never throw clothing away – wool is unravelled and all cloth is re-used if we can. There’s still some though. Meat bones, once we’ve made soup, broken plates and cups, odd bits of material that are too small to use again. Really nasty weeds like dandelion roots go in as well.”
Ruth was thinking about her own dustbin

“My successors may have thin pickings when they come to excavate your rubbish but there will still be a lot of things. Think of bombed out houses where the whole site is bulldozed and will someday be built over. There’ll be lots of evidence in them. Shell cases, batteries, even airplanes that have crashed and never been recovered. There’ll be lots to go at. Nowadays we’ve got photographs, books, newpapers and films as well. This will never be prehistory with no records.

Farther up the layers, they found pottery sherds form the iron age, which suggests the site was occupied then.”

“What about houses? Have you found any?”
Chris beat Gay by a short head as he asked.

“Nothing so far. It may be that the type of building they used hasn’t survived or, of course, we may just be looking in the wrong place!”

Reg, while listening to this avidly had wandered off slightly. “Is this flint?” he asked, pointing to a large nodule. “If so, they missed this one.”

“You’re not the first to notice that.”
Their guide said, with a chuckle. “And I’m sure the miners looked at it just as longingly. They had to keep the walls stable though, especially since they dug these galleries into other pits, following the seam of flint. Take a lump that size out of the wall and you could bring the whole lot down. Don’t worry! We’re not so stupid as to test that out.

I’ll leave you to wander round. It’s quite safe to go through any of the galleries that have been cleared – just don’t try to dig out anything you find. Call me or Doctor Henderson. You’re welcome to come and see the students working afterwards but you’ll get a better feel for the place where it’s quiet.”


She dropped to her knees and disappeared through an opening towards the voices.

Jacob looked at the youngsters. “Remember what Professor Garrod said. Anything you think may be of interest, call for someone. Apart from the danger of digging things out, everything needs to be recorded and measured before it is moved. That’s the number one rule of archaeology.

One thing to look for is the living proof of what you’ve been told. Any gallery you go through, look up at the ceiling. You’ll see smoke stains where the miners’ oil lamps were left to burn while they were digging. When I first came down here, that little thing made it come alive for me.”


He followed Professor Garrod and Rachel and Ruth followed. Chris was heading for another gallery already and Gay swiftly followed him and, dropping to her hands and knees was soon disappearing. Reg and Jacynth were left standing in the middle of the chamber.

“Which one?” Reg asked.

“We might as well do a dip for it. ‘Ip, dip, sky blue, who’s it, not you’!”

“Hey, you’ve missed the rest! ‘Not because you’re dirty, not because you’re clean, not because you’re Fairy Queen’.


Jacynth giggled. “We didn’t have that bit.”

The chosen gallery was also the lowest. Reg groaned. “Shall we try again?”

“No that would be cheating. Come on.”


Dropping to their hands and knees, they set off down the tunnel which seemed to get lower as they went along. Reg swung his torch up and stopped.

“Ouch!” exclaimed Jacynth.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were that close. Look, there’s soot on the roof.”

Jacynth reached up and ran her hand along the stain. “I’ve got soot on my finger that may be four thousand years old.” She said in wonder. “I wonder how much light the lamps gave.”

“Not as much as the torches we’ve got.”

“I’ll tell you what else I’ve got.”

“What?”

“A crick in my neck! You’d have to lie on your back to appreciate this properly. Keep going, but warn me when you’re going to stop again.”


Reg crawled on and soon emerged into a pit very like the one they had descended. He scrambled to his feet and Jacynth was soon standing beside him.

“We need to remember which tunnel we came out of.” Said Jacynth.

“Good thinking.” Reg fished in his pocket and produced a penny. Placing it at the entrance to the tunnel, he grinned at Jacynth. “Remind me to pick that up. Apart from the fact that I can’t really afford to lose it, it would confuse the next archaeologists who come through there.”

For a few minutes, they examined the shaft in silence, wandering round and running their hands over the chalk, carved out so many years ago, imagining the men dressed in skins, working away patiently with deer bones to uncover the precious flint.

Totally oblivious of everything else, Jacynth found the music swelling again. A haunting melody of longing, overlaid with a base line of determination. Her eyes became unfocussed and the music became reality.

“Are you all right?” Reg was holding her arm and looking concerned.

“I think so. I can hear music.”

“What? I can’t hear anything.”

“It’s in my head.”
She sat down rather hastily, feeling dizzy.

Reg looked worried for a moment and then hunting through his pockets, produced a tattered piece of paper and the stub of a pencil and thrust them into her hands.

“Sorry. It’s a bit tatty.”

Jacynth scribbled some notation on the paper, turned it over and scribbled some more on the other side. When she had finished, she heaved a sigh of relief and looked up at Reg who was still looking anxious.

“That’s better. How did you know?”

Reg ducked his head shyly. “Words do that to me sometimes. There’s a rhythm and it repeats and repeats till I write it down or shout it out loud. I suppose it’s a sort of poetry but it often doesn’t rhyme. I guessed it was the same for you but with music. I’ve never dared tell anyone before. I’m known more as the practical type.”

“I’ve never though of writing it down before. It doesn’t happen often and I try not to let it. People think I’m having a funny spell and going to faint.”


She carefully folded the paper and put it in her pocket.

“Here’s your pencil.” She held it out and he took it. “Let’s get back to the others.”

“If you’re ready.”

“Yes. It’s not singing now but I’ll remember it.”

“I’d like to hear you play it.”


Solemnly, she handed him his penny and set off down the tunnel. As they emerged, they heard raised voices.

“Oh, no! they’re off again!”

#112:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 8:31 pm
    —
Thanks Pat - great that Professor Garrod was a real person - makes her achievements even more amazing.Loved the post - Reg is very good with Jacynth - fancy him working out that Jacynth needed to write the music down.

#113:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 9:00 pm
    —
Well done Reg!

Thanks Pat, - fab as usual! Very Happy

#114:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 9:47 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I am probably asking a very stupid question here - I have a habit of doing that, but is she still alive? It's just that she was mentioned in the 1990s. I hope you don't mind me asking. It was interesting to see how Reg deals with words or a song in his head.

#115:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 10:11 pm
    —
Chair wrote:
Thanks, Pat. I am probably asking a very stupid question here - I have a habit of doing that, but is she still alive? It's just that she was mentioned in the 1990s. I hope you don't mind me asking. It was interesting to see how Reg deals with words or a song in his head.


She gave up the Chair of Archaeology in 1960 when she was getting on for 70 and went of on digs again - it is said that she was fed up with the bureaucracy! She died in 1968.

She is still quoted a lot by archaeologists who have finally agreed she was right over some things that were disputed and also mentioned frequently as a role model for women. She never campaigned for her rights - just got on and did her job and won respect.

#116:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:38 am
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Thanks Pat. I'm learning alot reading your drabble.

#117:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 1:32 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat, such a lot of History, and so much atmosphere.

#118:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 11:43 am
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Thank you Pat - that was fascinating!

#119:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 5:29 pm
    —
Another post which needs a health warning! People didn't bother with hard hats and they did quite happily wear open sandals to visit a dig! I'm not sure how any of us survived.

Reg laughed. “Well, we know what to do this time. Gabrielle and Christopher, here we come!”

Quickly, they crawled through the gallery leading to the voices. Gay and Chris stood facing one another, arguing so fiercely that they didn’t hear the others come through and, for a minute, they stood and watched as arms were waved and voices got louder.

“You rubber necked, splay footed … child!“ Gay exploded.

Reg and Jacynth exchanged amused glances.

Reg coughed.

There was silence.

“Hello, Gabrielle.” Said Jacynth equably. “Nice to see you, too Christopher.”

For a moment longer, Gay and Chris glowered, looking so alike that it was all Reg could do not to laugh.

“Where did you pick up American slang? “ Reg asked, conversationally. “It is jolly expressive, isn’t it. Shouldn’t that end with ‘gallumph’ or something like that?”

To his relief Gay laughed and Chris followed suit. “I’ll have to remember that. It’s really good.” Said Chris.

“Just don’t let anyone in authority hear you! Despite the fact that the girl who said it first is a bit of a legend at the school, they jump on us for that sort of thing and I’m sure your school is no different. How did you hear it, Reg? Do you know some Americans.”

“I’ve met one and he let out some really interesting words but it was Auntie Jo who told me about it. She was telling me about a school friend who was American. She did advise me not to risk using it.”

“I thought you’d only got one aunt?”

“She’s a pot aunt – you know, not really related but I call her Aunt.”

“Pot aunt! I like that.”
Jacynth giggled. ”She sounds a real scream if she taught you American slang.”

“It must be fairly usual over there then if that’s two Americans who use it – or maybe they both came from the same place. I wonder if Ma knows it. She was in America for ten years so she might.”

“Perhaps better not to ask.”
Advised Jacynth. “She might want to know where you’d heard it.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No, swept clean, that’s probably why they let us wander. We did see the smoke stains on the roof of the tunnel, though. Jac touched one and got soot on her hand.”

“We never thought of that. Let’s go back and look as we go.”
Chris sat down in the tunnel and started shuffling backwards so he could look up.

“You’ll wear holes through the seat of your shorts doing that.” Said Gay who had crawled in behind him.

“They’re going for dusters after the holiday so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does unless you’ve got spares with you today!”

“I never thought of that.”
He turned onto his hands and knees, scrabbling with his feet on the floor of the tunnel as he turned in the tight space. “Ouch!”

“What’s the matter?”

“I banged my toe on something sharp. I think it’s bleeding.”

“Hold still while I have a look. No! Don’t wave your foot about in the air, you nearly had my eye out then.”

“Well hurry up and look. It’s jolly uncomfortable holding it up.”

“It’s bleeding a bit on the end of the toe. I don’t think it’s much but it’s going to get dirt in it. Has anyone got a clean hankie.”


Jacynth passed one through and Gay tied it round Chris’s foot, not helped by the cramped space and slipped his sandal on again.

“That’ll hold till we get through here.”

Chris set off again and, as Gay followed, she exclaimed loudly. “Ouch!”

“Now what!”
Reg had just bent down to enter the tunnel and banged his head as she shouted.

“I’ve cut my hand.” Said Gay, indistinctly as she sucked her palm. “Hey! There’s a bit of flint sticking up out of the floor where Chris scuffled the surface.”

“Don’t touch it! If it’s important they need to measure it and everything.”

“Go back Reg.”
Said Jacynth, “I’ll come back towards you so we’re out of the way.”

“I think I’ll come back as well, otherwise I’m sure to kneel on it as I go by.”

“Ouch!”
Gay’s foot had landed on Jacynth’s hand.

“Sorry, but get a move on. I’m jolly uncomfortable.”

“I’ll get Pa or someone.”
Chris shouted through the hole and they heard his voice echoing round the caves as he set off in search of help calling for his father.

Once Gay had wriggled out of the hole and sat on the ground, dishevelled and sucking her hand, Reg started to laugh.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Said Gay, crossly. “I’ve been kicked in the face, cut my hand and I’m filthy into the bargain.”

Jacynth tried very hard to keep a straight face as she flexed the hand which Gay had trodden on. “Three of us injured for just one piece of flint.”

“Four.”
Reg corrected her, pushing his hair back and showing them a graze from his contact with the wall as he bent to enter the tunnel.

They could hear excited voices at the other end but no one called out to them.

“They’re too excited about the flint to bother about us. Let’s just sit and wait.”

“Let’s move over the other side. The last thing we want is someone blundering through and bashing into us.”


Jacynth pulled a comb from her pocket and dragged it through her hair, retying it with a rather crumpled ribbon. She offered it to Reg, who took it gratefully and yanked his own hair into submission.

“I suppose I’ll have to.” Said Gay as he passed it to her. “It’s going to ouch like mad though. When I’m grown up I’m going to have a backwards perm to make it straight, if they can do it one way, I’m sure they can do it the other; if not I’ll shave it all off.”

Reg fished through various debris in his pockets till he came to a battered packet of Extra Strong Mints. Gratefully they all took one and when Professor Garrod appeared at the opening of the tunnel, they were sitting peacefully, in a row, each with a cheek distended by a mint.

“Well done. It’s not just another arrow head - we’ve got stacks of those – but it looks like an axe. I’m afraid we’re stuck this side till they’ve dealt with it, but I’ve asked them to send some drink and sandwiches through. I’ll wait with you, since I’m now the wrong side of the excavation.”

“Is Chris all right?”

“Yes, it’s only a small cut, though he left a trail of blood right across the workings and he asks me to apologise for the fact that the hankie will never be the same again. Any other injuries? I gather you cut your hand, Gay.”

“It’s stopped bleeding now. I sucked it and got it clean and it wasn’t very deep. I did manage to step on Jacynth’s hand as I retreated and made Reg jump and bump his head.”


The Professor insisted in examining all the injuries and agreed that none of them were serious.

“Turn your torches off. My hand lamp is plenty for now and there’s some light as we’re not blocked by the planks above.”

She sat down companionably beside them and stretched her legs.

“Would you like a peppermint?” said Reg, politely.

“Thank you. I’m very partial to them.”

She took one and Reg handed them round again to the others. Soon there were four of them sitting peacefully, in a row, each with a cheek distended by a mint.

It was a good half hour before they saw a broad grin followed by the rather grubby face of Miss Bentley appeared coming along the gallery.

“Sorry to be so long. We’ve pooled your lunch with ours and here’s your share. I couldn’t get through till the measurements were done and the first drawings made.”

She poked a roughly wrapped package of sandwiches through into the chamber, followed by a bottle of water and four chipped enamel mugs, disappearing as suddenly as she had appeared.

“Bless her! She really doesn’t want to miss any of it!” Said Professor Garrod as she went to fetch the sandwiches. “Spam! I might have guessed. At least it’s not goat! Oh good, there’s some egg ones as well. They must be part of your lunch.”

“We’ll share. I quite like spam anyway but I’ve never had goat. Did you have that abroad?”
Gay made a long arm for a sandwich and settled back against the wall again.

“It’s the most common meat in the Middle East where I’ve done most of my digs. A sort of flat bread with smoked cheese for breakfast, goat wrapped in bread for lunch, goat stew for dinner, mopped up with the same flat bread. It gets very boring after a few weeks. Sometimes I used to dream of eggs and bacon!”

They made short work of the sandwiches, drank the water and settled back to wait. Jacynth’s head was nodding and her eyes drooped. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly she woke with a start as a scuffling was heard in the passage and Rachel, followed by Ruth appeared.

“Are you all right? They wouldn’t let us through till they’d moved the axe.” Ruth was obviously concerned about her charges’ safety.

“We’re fine, Ruth. Don’t flap. We’ve had lunch and a nice rest.”

“I’d have thought they’d have let you through, Professor Garrod!”
Ruth sounded quite indignant.

The Professor laughed. “I know better than to get in the way of students who’ve just found their first axe. I wouldn’t want to upstage them. We’ve been quite peaceful in here. It’s lovely and cool.”

“Well, they say you can come out now.”

“How’s Chris? Is his foot all right?”
Reg addressed his question to Rachel, rightly guessing that Ruth would not be satisfied till she had checked that Gay and Jacynth were unhurt.

“He’s fine. Doctor Henderson has a First Aid kit and I washed and bandaged his toe, though I don’t think it really needed a bandage. It’s only to keep it clean till we get out of here. He’s a bit miffed that he wasn’t at this end with the rest of you.”

They gathered up their debris and set off through the tunnel again to find Jacob and Chris were the only people waiting in the main pit.

“There you are, at last! It took them ages, didn’t it. They wouldn’t let me anywhere near and I haven’t even seen the thing after nearly cutting my foot off finding it for them! They rushed up the ladder as if the devil was after them.”

“Shall we go up and get a look at it? I’m sure you’ve all had enough of being down here.”
Dorothy had one foot on the ladder as she spoke.

“Let’s. It’s been fun though and I’ve learnt a lot. It was a jolly good adventure as well. This is turning into a prehistoric holiday. That’s two adventures we’ve had finding old things!”

“What was the other one, Reg?”
The Professor called out as Gay followed her up the ladder, closely followed by Jacynth.

“Ruth found a whacking great ammonite on the beach yesterday and we only just got it out of the rock before the tide came in. In fact, we’ve got it with us for you to take back to Cambridge. Doctor Hanson!” he called over his shoulder as he climbed after them. “Don’t forget the ammonite.”

“Good thing you remembered. With all this excitement, I’d forgotten that.”


Soon they were all out, blinking in the bright sunshine, and hurrying across the site to the tented area. The axe head lay on the table and the students and Doctor Henderson were busy writing and drawing in note books, occasionally measuring a dimension on the specimen.

“How did they fix it to a handle?”

“Either by tying it on with strips of leather or by making a hole in the handle and pushing it through. This one was pushed through a handle, it’s long and narrow even though it’s cutting edge is wider than the other end.”
Doctor Henderson replied.

“We still do that! We’ve an axe at home for chopping firewood that works just the same way. Every now and then we have to soak it to swell the wood again and I have to hammer splinters of wood in to hold it in place. That’s amazing to think I actually use something so like this.”

“Mr Newby has one, as well. He splits logs with it, too. That’s the farmer who runs our School Farm. Which end did I catch my toe on?”

“The sharp end. You were lucky it wasn’t sticking out any more or you’d have had a bigger cut.”
Morrow displayed a scar on the palm of his hand. “A memento of my first arrow head. I’m a lot more careful now.”

“A blood sacrifice to the ancients.”
Gay replied, grinning at him. Very appropriate. I don’t feel so bad about my little cut now. In fact it looks quite professional. What will you do with it now? Does it go in a museum?”

“Probably. We don’t have any as good as this from here. We’ll ask Professor Garrod to look at it and check our notes, but I don’t think there’s any doubt this is local manufacture. I’m sure it’s floorstone – that’s the bottom and best seam.”


Doctor Henderson was obviously delighted with the find.

“You said you’re sure it was local? What do you mean?”

“There seems to have been a fair bit of trade in tools, Gay. We’ve found Clacton Flint in France and Welsh flint in Clacton. It’s the same all over the world. Things crop up in all the wrong places – that’s one reason why I think they were more than ‘mere’ cavemen.”

“May we just touch it?”
said Chris.

“You can pick it up and pass it round now. We’ve finished the measurements. Be careful though, you already know how sharp the edge is.”

They passed it round and then one of the students produced a small camera and, after focussing it carefully, took a snap of the four with Chris standing proudly in front holding the axe.

“I’ll make prints for you all and give them to Doctor Hanson to pass on.” He promised.

“It’s a pity we didn’t wash first! If I look as bad as the rest of you, we’ll come out looking like a group of gypsies.”

“No we won’t, Jac! We’ll look like intrepid archaeologists. The real ones look just as bad.”


Everyone laughed at Chris’s comment.

“Tea, anyone?” Clarke and Miss Bentley had been making a large pot of tea and now brought it over, together with a pile of enamel mugs. Soon they were all sitting on folding chairs round the table, drinking companionably and chatting like old friends.

When they had finished, Doctor Henderson clapped his hands. “Well, thanks to our young friends here, we know that there is more to be found in the floors of the galleries. I really thought we had checked down to the base rock but apparently not. We’ll start a scraping exercise in them this afternoon. We’ve only got two days more.”

“We want to go into the village and see the modern flint knapper at the back of the White Hart, if he’s still there of course.”

“Mr Edwards is still there – and still known as young Mr Edwards despite being quite a bit older than me! I’ll come with you as he’s a little tetchy these days but he seems to like me.”
Professor Garrod stood up with the visitors.

“I think we need a quick wash and tidy first.” Said Rachel firmly. “I’ve got water and towels in the car. You’ll need to brush your hair as well, Chris. It looks a lot worse than Gay’s today.”

“Jacynth bullied me into combing it, that’s why it’s reasonable. It’s a wonder it didn’t come out in lumps.”


They walked over to the car and Rachel produced a milk can with water in it and a small bowl. “Oh we need to transfer the ammonite to your car, Dorothy.” She turned to her friend.

“Let’s move it now before we forget.”

Once they were a little cleaner, they went back to say goodbye to Doctor Henderson and his students, who were planning the afternoon’s work. To their surprise, he handed each of the four a small box.

“An arrow head!” exclaimed Chris, who was first to open his. “How ripping. Are you sure you can spare it?”

Doctor Henderson pointed to a large box on the end of the table. “We’ve got quite a few already. You deserve something to remember today. Between you, you’ve done better than we have in a week.”

“It was an accident, really.”
Jacynth was slightly embarrassed at the praise.

“So many finds are. When it gets written up, I’ll give copies of the journal to Doctor Hanson to pass on.”

“Wow! Is it really that important?”

“It may well be. There haven’t been that many axes found here and you’ve shown that we’ve still got some digging to do so who knows where it will lead.”


Goodbyes and thanks were exchanged and, with Dorothy Garrod leading in her battered car, they left the site. Their last view was of the students, clustered round Doctor Henderson, heading back to their precious dig..

#120:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 7:11 pm
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Love the slang from Gay! Laughing

One of the geology fieldtrips I went was a right giggle - Mr P spotted something in the cliff face (about 200ft or so high) and starts whacking at it with a hammer, then stops and grabs a hard hat before carrying on! Not sure what he expected the hard hat to do in the circs Rolling Eyes Laughing

Thanks Pat!

#121:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 7:29 pm
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We all had to wear hard hats when on Earth Sciences field trips - not such a problem when we were half way up a mountain - but you got some funny looks from sun bathers on the beach when we all trooped past them to examine the rocks on the shore! Laughing


Thanks Pat - that was excellent.

#122:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 7:30 pm
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Thanks, Pat. I'm sorry for misreading the earlier link - I thought it said she had given talks in the 1990s. Embarassed It actually said that she had had been honoured in the 1990s. Well done, to Chris, Reg, Jacynth and Gay for their find.

#123:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 8:46 pm
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Thanks, Pat. I hope the ammonite turns out to be a rare one.

#124:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 2:56 am
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This was fascinating, and so nice to see the way in which Gay and Chris tried to get along with the help of their friends.

#125:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 2:20 pm
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Thank you Pat, this is all so interesting.

#126:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 6:52 pm
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After parking the cars in front of a small pub, Dorothy led the way round the back. They heard an insistent tapping – too thin in sound for a blacksmith’s hammer and with a tinkling quality to it. An old shed stood behind the pub, the door stood open and there was an old man sitting on a stool with a large piece of leather strapped to his left thigh. Resting on the leather, was a nodule of flint which he hit sharply with a short handled hammer. To one side lay a mound of flint with the chalk still clinging to it and on the other was a tin tub half full of little square gun flints.

“Afternoon, Miss Garrod. I’m thinking your young ‘uns had thick heads this morning!”

“They did rather. I should imagine you did too, you seemed to keep up with them rather well.. I’ve brought some friends to see your work.”

“You’ve been afore along a your missus.”
Mr Edwards said, pointing to Jacob. “It were a long while ago and I see you’ve had two bairns since then.”

“Only this one is ours, Chris. Gay is a …. sort of cousin.”

“They could have hatched out of the same egg – except the girl is bigger built. You’ll be wanting to see me work I expect. What I’m making here is gun flints. If you young ‘uns bide quiet, you can watch.”


Without further ado, he took up the lump of stone and hit it gently, seeming to listen to the sound. Then he hit harder and the flint broke cleanly. Taking the flat piece of flint, he struck it near the edges. It flaked and he hit it with a series of quick blows. Within seconds another gun flint fell into the tub and he was repeating the process.”

After a few minutes he stopped and looked up. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Can anyone learn?

“You have to learn young. I were younger than you when I started, young man.”
Mr Edwards replied. “Even then not many people master it.”

“Who uses the flints today? I didn’t know anyone used flint-lock rifles now.”

“There’s still a great trade for them in Africa and places where the natives still use the old flint-lock. I’ve heard say that all the gun flint used today comes from Brandon. They sell ‘em in bags of fifty. ‘Tis dying out now, though. None of the youngsters hereabouts want to sit in a shed all day – they’re off to the towns as soon as maybe.”

“Thank you for showing us.”
Said Reg, politely. “I’d no idea anyone still made them.”

“Ah! Not many folk do. They think it’s all those old things that Miss Garrod messes about with.”


There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it and Professor Garrod just laughed.

“If you want to take a flint each as a memory, I’ll not miss ‘em.”

They each took a gun flint with thanks but Mr Edwards had gone back to his knapping and didn’t look up as Professor Garrod ushered them out.

“We’ll have to get back now, Dorothy. We’ve a good long drive ahead. Thank you for organising it, everyone has had a good time and learnt a lot. ”

“Any time, though I’ll try to avoid letting your youngsters be maimed next time.”

“It was worth it. Next time you want an axe head finding, just write and we’ll sort it for you!”

“Chris! You really are incorrigible!”
Rachel exclaimed.

“I’ll remember. Just watch for the telegraph boy.” Professor Garrod shook hands with everyone, assured Jacob that she would deliver the ammonite to the college and climbed into her car to head back to the site.

“I was going to suggest that we stopped for a cup of tea and a bun in a café in Swaffham but I don’t think any of us would be allowed in, me included.” Rachel turned to survey the dishevelled party in the back once they were in the car. “Jacob, stop in the middle of the village and I’ll see what the shop has to offer. Then we can park up somewhere and have a snack.”

“Good.”
Declared Chris. “My tummy thinks my throat’s been cut.”

They pulled up outside the village store and Rachel left the car clutching her purse, returning a few minutes later laden with bottles of lemonade and two paper bags.

She took two apples out of one of the bags and passed the rest over to the back. “They’d got apples so I bought us one each and we’ll save the buns and lemonade till later.”

They all felt better for an apple which helped quench their thirst as well as take the edge off their hunger and settled to watch the countryside pass as the big car ate up the miles. Eventually, Jacob pulled off the road into a gateway to a field.

“We can’t go far from the car in case the farmer wants to get through the gateway but there’s a grassy patch over there where we can have our snack.”

Once they were all settled, and munching their buns, they started to talk about the adventures of the day, recounting the adventure and laughing. No one mentioned that Gay and Chris had had a disagreement and Jacynth was relieved that Reg didn’t tell everyone about the music.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything!” Jacynth wound up the conversation as Ruth started to gather the bottles together. “It beats any history lesson I’ve ever had.”

“You’ll find out and let us all know if they find anything else, won’t you, Doctor Hanson?”
Reg asked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll grab Dorothy when term starts and find out.”

“No cooking tonight. We’ll have fish and chips.”

“If the tide’s right, could we have a swim first? That’s the one snag with camping, you can’t have a bath.”

“If we can find enough dry drift wood, we could have a fire down there and watch the sun go down while we have cocoa.
” Suggested Ruth. “We used to do that when we were children.”

“Hurrah! What a smashing wind up to a perfect day! Come on, let’s get a move on.”


The other three laughed at Chris’s enthusiasm but were secretly as excited.

*

The weekend sped past with a boat trip to see the seals on the Saturday, plenty of swimming, time on the beach and several rides on the dodgems. They were all brown as berries and looking thoroughly fit, though more disreputable as the days went by.

“It’s been a marvellous holiday.” Said Reg on the Monday evening, as he and Jacynth walked along the beach to meet the others after indulging their shared passion for the dodgems. “I’m so glad we met you.”

“Me, too. It’s been great fun.”


Reg gathered up his courage. “Will you write to me. I know the Hansons and the Lamberts are keeping in touch because of the family connection, always supposing there is one, so we’re sure to hear of one another that way but …. “

“I’d like that. I’ll give you Ruth’s address. I’m not that sure how the school would take to letters arriving from strange young men. Schools are a bit funny that way.”

“I’ll give you my home address as well. I hadn’t thought about that and ours might be the same. Besides, the chaps would think it odd of me to be friends with a girl.”

“I was thinking the same. I’d rather not be teased because we’re friends.”

“I’d like to hear you play that music some day.”

“It will probably be rubbish when I come to play it.”

“No it won’t. You’re awfully good. I could listen to you all day. Auntie and I used to listen to concerts on the radio on winter evenings and I always loved the ‘cello. Have you heard of Nicholas Wychcote?”

“Yes. He died years ago but I’ve heard records of him playing. Why?”

He lived in our village and his daughter was my best friend. She was a lot older than me and she must be about thirty now. She was ill with rheumatics but she’s a lot better now and married and everything. I used to listen to records at her cottage.”

“Do you ever see her now?”

“Yes, sometimes. She’s still the person I write to when things go wrong. I wish you could meet her. You’d like her and she’d love to hear you play as well. She loves the ‘cello but she can’t play much.

“Perhaps someday, who knows.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll get a chance to say goodbye properly tomorrow and I wanted to say it now without everyone around.”

“I’m glad we’ve had the chance.”


They stopped for a moment as they heard a lark singing, high above them.

“There he is.” Said Jacynth, pointing. “So tiny and yet so brave to fly so high.”

“I see him. There are larks on the moors where I live.”

“And on the moors not far from Ruth’s.”


They stood for a moment longer.

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

“Don’t be sad. I promise we’ll meet again, I won’t forget.”


They turned and stared into one another’s eyes.

“Honest. I promise to write. Newcastle is not that far away from where I live. I can get there on a train in the holidays.”

Jacynth looked at him solemnly and then rose on tiptoe and gently kissed him on the cheek. They both blushed and then Reg bent and kissed her gently on the lips. They walked up the beach hand in hand till they saw the others and then drew apart.

“I’ll think of you when I see a lark.” Murmured Reg.

#127:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 7:23 pm
    —
Awwww, how sweet - and neither of them know of their connection - they may well meet again.

Thanks Pat.

#128:  Author: EilidhLocation: Macclesfield PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 7:26 pm
    —
So nice! Thanks Pat.

#129:  Author: MLocation: Winchester PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 7:30 pm
    —
Now would they be more suited than Reg and Len? I guess being a musician meant Jacynth moved away from Newcastle but how about some London student romance when Reg goes to medical school?

#130:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 7:37 pm
    —
Isn't Jacynth the same age here as Len when Reg first expresses an interest?

Thanks Pat.

#131:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 10:28 am
    —
Awwwwww. That was lovely Very Happy Thanks Pat

#132:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 10:30 am
    —
That's lovely... so sweet! Thanks Patmac

#133:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 12:01 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. That was really sweet. I hope they do get a chance to meet again.

#134:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 9:48 pm
    —
“Let’s have one last go on the dodgems.”

“No, let’s have a last walk on the beach.”


It was Tuesday morning and Ruth, Gay and Jacynth were to catch the noon train to begin their long journey home to Newcastle while the Hansons and Reg set off down the coast on the last few days of their holiday.

All was packed and cleaned at the cottage and the campsite just awaited the striking of tents. The Hansons and Reg had driven up to the cottage to spend the last morning with their new friends so they could take the train contingent to the station for their train, before leaving themselves. They had already loaded the cases into the car, Ruth insisting that the girls left out one set of decent clothes to travel in.

“It’s not half past nine yet, we could do both.”

“I’ll tell you what. You go off to your dodgems and Chris and I will walk along the beach and meet you, then we can all walk back together. How does that sound? That’s if you don’t need any help, Ruth”

“No, you get off. Everything’s done here. Be back before twenty past eleven, though. You’ve to change into decent clothes for the journey and if we miss the train we’ll be in a right pickle.”


There was a concerted rush for the door which was left swinging open.

“Well, that’s quieter! Shall we go and sit in the garden with a drink for a while? I’ve left the tea out and we need to use up the milk, anyway.”

“Good idea. You go on and read your newspaper, Jacob. We’ll bring it out in a little while.”


When he was had gone, they put the kettle on and sat down at the table to wait for it to boil.

“Strange how those two love the dodgems. They’re so serious in other ways, not like our harum-scarum pair, in fact Jacynth looks sad sometimes.”

“She still misses her auntie and she’s completely devoid of family, you know. Mr Harper, he was their Doctor, is her trustee and I promised her Auntie she’d never be alone – it’s not the same though. That’s why I’ve encouraged her and Reg to go on the dodgems. That first day when she bashed into Reg time and again, I couldn’t believe my ears. She suddenly sounded like a schoolgirl for the first time.”

“I think she’s been good for him as well. I don’t know if he misses his parents much. You can’t tell with Reg but he’s had a lot of adjustments to make. You know he didn’t go to a proper school till he was nearly thirteen. He’s caught up with the others and even leads the form in some subjects.”

“How was he educated before then?”

“A Village School – not that I’m decrying Village Schools, I went to one myself – but if you don’t get out at eleven to the Grammar School, they really do seem to go downhill from then on. Most of the children are marking time till they can get to work. He’s going to be a doctor.”

“That’s a long training.”

“The people who are paying for his schooling are paying that as well. Reg is quite open about it so I’m not betraying any confidences. He does appreciate his education though, more than Chris who has never had to work hard.”

“That may be partly why Jacynth is so good at the ‘cello. The school has waived the fees for her lessons and one of the Heads gave her a ‘cello when she found out she couldn’t afford it. I suppose that sort of thing is bound to make them serious. Mind you, serious doesn’t describe Jacynth when they came back along the beach last night. There was a definite sparkle in her eye.

“Reg was a bit flushed as well. Poor kids. How the young do suffer. I’ll bet it’s the first time either of them has noticed the opposite sex.”


Ruth giggled. “I remember my first kiss. It was only a peck but I thought it was wonderful. George Higgins was his name. I wonder what happened to him.”

“I sometimes wonder if we’re right sending the children off to boarding school. Chris has never got to know any girls and I don’t think Reg has either.”

“On the other hand, at least it means they concentrate on their schoolwork. I don’t really like the idea of Gay settling down too early and it could easily happen if she went around with some of the youngsters near us. She’s still a child compared with some of the fourteen year olds. You should see them!”

“The trouble is, she’s not a child and she could get bowled over by the first boy she meets if she doesn’t get to know any. Yes, I know she’s sensible but you know.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “She could get carried away by the novelty of it. Romance is heady stuff!”

“Oh, dear. I had hoped her parents would be home by the time she got to that stage. I really don’t want to deal with it.”

“Is that likely?”

“I doubt it! I shouldn’t say this because it sounds disloyal to Tommy but … why have children if you’re going to farm them off to other people while they grow up? Boarding School is one thing but they’ve not seen the twins for nearly ten years! I know we’ve had the war years but that’s over now and they could come back if they wanted to. Gay will be eighteen this year. She can’t have any real memory of her parents.

“What about Tommy? Were they there for him?”


Ruth shook her head. “He went out to see them a few times as he got older but most holidays he stayed at school. That’s why I felt I had to take the twins. He was determined they should have a family life. It means a lot to him.”

“Then you’re going to have to talk to her about the facts of life. You’d better get your husband to talk to Mike as well. Jacob is already talking on the subject of when we should tell Christopher – oh, darn! I must remember to call him Chris – and we’ve agreed he should know when he’s fifteen. Fortunately, Jacob has volunteered as he’s a boy. Reg hasn’t anyone to tell him except his Aunt and, by the look of it, he could do with knowing soon. I might even phone Mrs Maynard and she may be able to get her husband to do it. They’re paying for him at school and I think they take they’re responsibilities seriously but they may not have thought of that.”

“There’s a Mrs Maynard involved in Gay and Jacynth’s school. She was really good to Jacynth when her Auntie died. What a coincidence.”

“It’s a common enough name.”
Rachel smiled, in reminiscence. “My first kiss was with a boy called Bob Maynard. He came from Devon somewhere and went in the army and I’d totally forgotten him. I wonder what became of him.”

Ruth laughed. “Funny how we forget and it was so important at the time.”

The kettle suddenly whistled so they made the tea and carried it into the garden.

*

“Home today. I wish we could stay another week.” Gay kicked a pebble.

“It’s been good though. I wish we could have worked out how we’re related.”

“I do as well. It’ll take ages to get a reply from Mum and Dad so don’t expect anything soon. What about your father’s family? Are you likely to get any clues from them?”

“I don’t know. You know Pa’s mother was Jewish?”
Gay nodded.

“Of course you do, that’s how we think we’re related. I forgot for a minute. His father wasn’t, Jewish I mean, but he died when I was a baby and Pa inherited everything. He was stinking rich and Pa settled some money on his younger brother but then he and Ma spent all the rest on getting Jewish children out of Germany after Hitler came to power.

His brother didn’t think much to that and they don’t have a great deal to do with one another since but Ma was all for it so they did it anyway. I’m jolly glad he did, especially after what we heard about the concentration camps after the war. He helped save lots of children. I don’t know what contact they have with Pa’s mother’s people. They were religious Jews and might not have wanted to keep in touch.

It’s a pity but I won’t really be counted as Jewish because Ma’s not. I do feel it though – not religious Jewish but it’s in my blood and, I can’t explain it, but I feel as though I ought to be. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, in a way. After all, you are at least one quarter Jewish. I think it’s also because you’ll always be on the side of the underdog. The Jews have had a hard time so you want to be on their side. It’s odd really, but I feel the same.”

“Always rescuing kittens from trees?”
Chris laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that! It’s more for people. I can’t stand aside and see someone unhappy. I think that’s why I felt so bad when your father talked to us and I realised I could be a bully. I am inclined to butt in.”

“I think”
said Chris, screwing up his face in concentration. “I think it works out. When I first met Reg, he was new, not just to school, but to lots of things I took for granted and I felt a bit sorry for him. Mind you, first time I met him I chucked a pillow at him! I wasn’t aiming for him though.” He laughed at the memory. “Then I got to know him and he’s one of my best friends.”

“Same with me and Jacynth. She was so scared and upset, I just had to help her. Now, I’m not sure who helps who the most.”

“Funny old world!”
Chris shook his head, sagely.

“Sometimes you sound about eighty!”

“Sometimes I feel around eighty five. At least you’re with people your own age at school.”

“You’re in Reg’s form, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’ve never been the right age for my form.”

“Well, your father’s very clever.”

“Trouble is, Ma is, too. I think I got a double dose.”

“You poor old thing. You’ll need a walking stick soon.”

“When I do, I’ll pinch yours.”

“And leave me to fall over! I don’t think so. I need my walking stick, I do.”

“Let’s take our sandals off and paddle the rest of the way. Goodness knows when we’ll get the chance to do it again, not till next summer anyway. That’s a whole year away.”

“You make it sound like a lifetime.”

“Well, you may be too old and feeble to paddle by next year!”


Gay shrieked and lunged for him and he ran. They were breathless by the time they reached the steps to the funfair.

“Pax! ” Chris gasped.

“All right, just this once, but try not to knock me down the steps again.”

“They’re the same steps where we met!”


Gay put her hand on his shoulder. “Joking aside. It’s been good, little cousin.”

Chris blinked rapidly. “I haven’t ever had a cousin before.”

#135:  Author: PatLocation: Doncaster PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 9:53 pm
    —
That was lovely! And you rotten tease - you nearly got them to realise that they know the same people!!!

#136:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 9:59 pm
    —
Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing

Well it is a common name, after all!

Bob Maynard - wouldn't be Jack's brother, would it?????

Thanks Pat.

#137:  Author: EilidhLocation: Macclesfield PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 10:01 pm
    —
Lesley wrote:
Bob Maynard - wouldn't be Jack's brother, would it?????


That's what I thought!

Thanks Pat - sad to see the holiday coming to an end

#138:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 10:04 pm
    —
I thought that, but the Maynards lived in the New Forest, not Devon.

#139:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 10:40 pm
    —
Pat! You really are a tease!!

*pokes Pat gently*

#140:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 11:00 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. It's a shame that they didn't realise the connection with the Maynards. I liked the way that Chris and Gay teased each other.

#141:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 12:45 am
    —
Devon's pretty close to the New Forest though - at least it's in the south, and she is remembering through the mists of time as it were!

Thank you Pat, they were two fascinating posts - and you know, I'd never thought of Gay's parents before...yes, why didn't they come back?

#142:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 9:51 am
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Thank you Pat - so close and yet the opportunity missed for now!

#143:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 10:36 am
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Wonderful!

Thanks, Pat Very Happy

#144:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 11:16 am
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Almost the connection, but won't it be good when they do realise?

#145:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 5:43 pm
    —
“You’re back, then.”

“We are indeed and very grateful that you watered the garden while we were away.”


Dorothy looked up from the plants she had been examining to smile at Julian over the stone wall which divided their gardens. To her surprise, Mary’s voice said. “Don’t give him the credit! That was me. He’s been swanning around in London, leaving me to slave over two gardens.”

A second later, her face appeared, wreathed in smiles. “Welcome home! You don’t look any different.”

“You didn’t think getting married would make me grow an extra head, did you?”
Dorothy flushed slightly, but laughed.

“Not really.” said Mary, her dimples showing. “I just thought you might look a bit more grown up. You really don’t look old enough to be Mrs Douglas, especially with your hair just tied back like that.”

“Give it time!”
said Hugh appearing beside Dorothy and placing an arm round her waist. “A few weeks of darning my socks and ironing my shirts should do the trick.”

Dorothy dug him in the ribs with her elbow. “If we’re sharing the work on traditional lines, that leaves you with all the wood chopping, cleaning the oil lamps and the washing up”

“Thank you for keeping the garden so trim Mary. I thought you were going home to see your mother.”

“I’m going tomorrow instead. Mum wants me to be there for the anniversary of George’s death. I’m afraid I used you two as an excuse not to go earlier. I just had to stay and look after your garden, didn’t I?”
Her face took on a martyred expression and she pretended to wipe sweat from her brow, causing them all to laugh.

“You know Mum lives with Aunt Ethel now. I’m sure it’s better for them as they were both living alone but I have to stay there when I go to see Mum. The snide comments from dear Auntie about the fact that I’m not married yet and when am I giving up this teaching nonsense and coming home to settle down are hard to cope with.”

“Aunt Ethel sounds a real pain.”
Hugh sympathised.

“Oh, she is, over this. She just can’t understand how anyone would want to do anything other than keep house! Mum understands. She wanted to be a teacher but they couldn’t afford for her to stay at school. It causes friction between them if I’m there too long and I feel like piggy in the middle. I can keep smiling for around four days and then I’m ready to scream. The well still seems to have as much water in it as ever.” Mary knew this had been a concern for the new inhabitants of the cottage. “I’ve used gallons on the salad stuff.”

“It’s been a blessing for me. I had to go up to London to sign some papers. It’s been so hot, I’m sure we’d have had no gardens left at all but for Mary.”

“Does that mean you’ve sorted what to do with the house, Julian? The last we heard you still weren’t sure.”
asked Hugh.

“It’s going to the National Trust. I’m putting some money in trust for the upkeep and they’ll take over the whole thing. It was dragging on so I decided to go up to Town and make a nuisance of myself. All I’ve got to do now is decide if there is anything I want from there and go and hunt it out by the end of August when the inventory will be taken. To be honest, I don’t want to even set foot in the door again but Mary has persuaded me I should.”

“I just think you’ll regret it later if you don’t. You need to lay your ghosts once and for all. Anyway, there must be something you’d like to keep.”

“Oh, I know you’re right. I should go, though I can’t imagine wanting to take anything. and I don’t think I would have if you hadn’t said you’d come with me.”

“How could I resist the chance to poke around a Stately Home when I’ve got the chance.”
Mary replied, lightly. “Besides, it saves me paying the train fare to get to Stacie’s!”

Hugh and Dorothy went indoors to unpack and soon saw Mary striding down the field on her way back to the School.

“H’mm. I wonder.”

“Wonder what, dear?”

“Julian and Mary are getting on really well.”


Hugh turned from his wardrobe to look at Dorothy in surprise. “Why shouldn’t they, they’re both nice people. Where shall I put this case now it’s empty?”

“In the little bedroom, I think. I’d rather not risk anything in the cellar till we’ve seen how dry it is in the winter.”

“Good idea. Why did you think Julian and Mary wouldn’t get on?”

“I didn’t. It’s more the opposite.”


Hugh considered the idea. “There’s a big age gap and very different backgrounds as well.”

“Maybe, but they’re neither of them conventional. Julian seems determined to cut himself off from his past and Mary would strangle some callow youth within a week! I think she lifts him and he settles her.”

“Put like that, I suppose it’s possible. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“We will. I’m not proposing playing matchmaker. If you’d take this case as well, I’ll go down to the farm for some milk and eggs in a minute. If I’m lucky, Mrs Newby will slip me a loaf and some cheese as well, then if I cut some lettuce, we could have a simple supper. It’s too hot to cook. I say, isn’t it nice being home?”

“Very.”
Hugh dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he left the room with the cases.

*

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” Anne Hatcherd popped her head round the kitchen door.

“Not really, Mum. I’d got it all prepared beforehand. You can come and talk to me though. Where’s Dad?”

“Down the garden with Hugh. I think Hugh is angling for compliments on his path laying.”


Dorothy laughed. “Poor lamb! Those flagstones weigh a ton and I thought he’d burst a blood vessel. He was so determined to have it done before you came and we’ve only been home a week.”

“Bless the lad. You’ve got a good man there, Dorothy.”

“I know, Mum. I really do. It’s lovely to have you to stay. Mind you, it’s going to be a social whirl. Miss Gregory sent a note asking us all to tea with her and Miss Snaith on Friday, Mrs Newby is expecting us for Sunday lunch, we’ve invited Julian and Mary for supper tomorrow, before they set off for Oxfordshire, and John the next night – though we’re having to borrow chairs from Julian if we’re all to sit at the table.”

“I’ve promised Mrs Thompson that I’ll call in while we’re here. I couldn’t miss her out.”

“That’s life in the country. I think I’ve done more visiting since I moved here than I ever did in Leeds.”


Anne looked out of the window. “They’re still at the end of the garden. It can’t take that long to admire a path!”

“They’re probably solving all the problems of the world.”

“Quite likely! It’s good for your Dad to relax like that. I’d like him to work less but he won’t listen.”


Dorothy spun on her heel, “Mum! He’s all right, isn’t he?”

“Yes, I think so. He just hasn’t got the stamina he had before the war and he still gets some pain from that shrapnel in his chest. Of course he finds it frustrating that there are things he can’t do with one arm and he uses up his energy getting annoyed about that.”

“So long as it’s only that. What does the doctor say?”

“He won’t go to see him. Apparently they said there was nothing more they could do. I think he’s all right really. He just needs to slow down a bit.”

*

“You’ve made a grand job of that, lad. I’d never have known you’ve not done anything like it before.”

“Thank you. I really quite enjoyed doing it. There’s something rather satisfactory about making something.”


Albert leaned against the wall and looked up the garden. “It’s a lovely place you’ve got here, so peaceful. Leeds seems to get busier and noisier every day.”

“How’s the shop doing?”

“Mustn’t grumble. We could sell more if we could get the stock but there’s still a shortage of paper – there’s a shortage of everything, seems to me. You’d never believe we won the war, would you.”

“It’s worse on the continent.”

“So I hear. We’re lucky really. I just seem to get so tired these days.”


Hugh glanced across and saw him rubbing his chest.

“Shrapnel still playing up?”

“From time to time.”

“Have you been for a check up?”

“They can’t do anything. It’d be a waste of time.”

“That’s another difference in the country – Dr Ward would come and drag me off by the ear if I didn’t turn up for my six monthly check.”

“You still have check ups?”


Hugh nodded. “If you’ve got bits of metal inside, they like to make sure it’s not moving around – migrating, they call it. Apparently it sometimes comes to the surface and it can be dug out.”

“Migrating!”
Albert snorted. “It could migrate to South Africa with the swallows and I’d wave it goodbye with a happy smile.”

“Seriously, though. You really should keep gong for the check ups.”

“I’ll think on but they said there was nothing they could do so I reckoned I’d not waste their time.”


Hugh shrugged. “It’s your shrapnel but I’d not want to be in your shoes if Anne realises you should be going.”

“Aye. You’ve got a point there. Maybe I will go after all.”

“Good. Do you fancy popping down to the Crown after Supper? Tom said he’d like to see you again.”

“A pint would go down a treat. I think Anne and Dorothy will have plenty to talk about and they’ll be glad to get us from under their feet.”

*

“That was lovely, Dorothy! You are such a good cook.”
Mary leaned back in her chair and sighed with repletion. “I’m so glad I got back in time for this evening.”

“And how was dear Auntie Ethel?”
Hugh asked as he scraped the last of the custard tart from his plate.

“Not too bad. Auntie Ethel” she explained to Dorothy’s parents, “believes that a woman’s place is in the home and she snipes at me for having a career. She did, believe it or not, line up no less than three young men for me to meet this time! To be fair to them, I don’t think they knew what she was up to and they’ll probably never recover from the shock!”

“Were you very wicked?”
Dorothy asked. “Go on, you can tell us.”

“Oh, I was very good really. I don’t think any of them will need surgery! Mum thought it was really funny. I think little and often is the way to go with visits. Mum does like to see me but she knows how difficult it is.

“Why don’t you bring her over here sometime in the holidays? I’m sure John wouldn’t mind her staying at the Lodge. You’d get time on your own and she’d see where you live.”

“Why didn’t I think of that? It’s a really good idea, Julian. I could meet her off the train in Manchester to help her the rest of the way. I’m not sure she’d cope with her case coming across Manchester and she’d have to change in Leeds. It would be nice to have her over for a holiday.”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
Hugh asked.

“Too early! Julian is picking me up at seven o’clock and I’m under orders not to keep him waiting.”

“You’re the one who wants time to poke round the house, not me. I’ve a good mind to just drop you off and go to a pub till you’ve finished.”

“Good. That way I won’t shock you when I slide down the bannisters. I’ve always wanted to do that in a really grand house.”

“Slide all you like. I’m beyond being shocked by your shenanigans. Anyway, it’s time someone had fun in the place.”

“Don’t worry, I will! Julian has booked rooms at a hotel nearby and then the next day, when we’ve finished, he’s taking me on to Stacie’s and I’m staying for a whole week. I’m really looking forward to that. She’s going to show me all over Oxford and we’re going to a concert. Do you know she’s never had a friend to stay before, isn’t that sad.”

“Give her our love and tell her she’s welcome here anytime she can make it. Hugh, we ought to go and see her sometime.”

“Let’s do it at half term. Why don’t you write and see if she can have us? I like Stacie.”

#146:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 6:30 pm
    —
fan-smegging-tastic! Laughing

Thanks Pat - really enjoyed catching up with this!

#147:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 8:15 pm
    —
Oh that was wonderful - glad the romance between Mary and Julian is proceding to plan - would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Mary's Aunt Ethel brought out those three lads as prospective husbands!

Hugh is very wise - getting Dorothey's Dad to agree to go to the doctor.

Thanks Pat.

#148:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 9:10 pm
    —
Thanks Pat, that was really nice. I particularly liked the relationship between Hugh and Albert.

#149:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 10:20 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Hugh and Dorothy are enjoying married life.

#150:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 11:28 pm
    —
Kat wrote:
fan-smegging-tastic! Laughing

Couldn't put it better myself!

I have enjoyed Reg and Christopher and Jacynth and Gay, but it's lovely to see Hugh and Dorothy again Very Happy

#151:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Thu Jun 29, 2006 11:33 pm
    —
That was lovely Pat, and I really hope Dorothy's dad will listen to Hugh and go see the doc!

#152:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Fri Jun 30, 2006 12:42 am
    —
Very very nice Pat! Lovely to see the happiness of Hugh and Dorothy...although her father had better go to that doctor.

#153:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Jun 30, 2006 12:56 pm
    —
It's great to see Hugh and Dorothy so happy, and to catch up on the rest of the characters. Thanks, Pat.

#154:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jun 30, 2006 6:11 pm
    —
Whether the Bob Maynard who was lucky enough to share Rachel's first kiss was Jack's brother, I don't yet know, I'm afraid.

At the moment, Mary is shouting loudest - so here's goes.




”There! I told you I’d be ready.”

“I never doubted it. You look very smart. I like that dress.”

“Thank you kind Sir. You’re looking smart yourself. I see you’ve got your Panama on the back seat. Very classy! How long will it take to get there?”


Mary dropped her case onto the back seat and settled beside Julian, removing her large shady hat.

“Around four or five hours driving. It’s over two hundred and fifty miles, you know. We’ll stop on the way for coffee and have lunch at the hotel where we’re staying tonight. We can leave our cases there and then pick up the keys from the estate manager.

There was silence for a while. Julian was concentrating on his driving and Mary was mulling over in her mind how sad some people’s childhoods had been.

There was Stacie, brought up by parents who seemed to have been totally unaware of how narrow a life they were giving their daughter. Stacie wasn’t rich by Julian’s standards but nonetheless, she had independent means and didn’t actually need to work which seemed almost unbelievable. She appeared to have no real friends though, apart from people she had met at school and it seemed as if she had little contact with them, though from how Mrs Maynard had greeted her at Dorothy’s wedding, that was more Stacie’s choice than anything.

And here was Julian, frighteningly clever and self assured with all the advantages that money could bring, with unhappy memories of childhood and lonely now. She was still stunned at the thought that he really didn’t want to see the home in which he had grown up. He must be very rich if he could afford to give away a mansion. He didn’t act it, though and he really was such a nice person – as well as a very attractive man. She wondered why he had never married. She stopped those thoughts hastily.

She thought about her own childhood, running free down to the lake and on the fells with her brother, welcomed by uncles and aunts with a hug whenever she turned up on their doorstep. Neither Stacie nor Julian had experienced that.

Despite the loss of her father, life had been good, even if there wasn’t money for luxuries. Mary decided that being rich was not all it was cracked up to be and she wouldn’t like it.

“Lucky for me it’s not likely to ever happen, then” she thought with satisfaction. “I wouldn’t want to change.”

At half past twelve, Julian pulled into a large gateway, drove slowly up a gravel drive and came to a stop at the foot of an imposing flight of steps, beyond which was a pillared portico. The large house itself was Georgian, Mary thought, dredging back through her memories of lessons about architecture, and very impressive.

“Is this where, we’re having lunch?” said Mary doubtfully.

“Yes, we’re staying here tonight, then we can both change into something more suitable for ferreting around in an old house.”

A man with rather more gold braid on his uniform than an Admiral opened Mary’s door and she stepped from the car, putting on her hat and trying to look as if she did this every day. Julian, looking very dapper, set his Panama on his head at a rakish angle, passed the keys to the man and offered his arm to Mary.

Slightly flushed, she accompanied him up the steps and the double doors opened, apparently by magic, as they approached. As she entered, she saw two more uniformed men holding them open, who bowed as they entered.

Yet another man in a very smart suit approached, who Mary guessed was the Manager, though he could have been a Duke, he looked so smart.

“Welcome back, Sir Julian. Welcome Miss Collins. I hope you had a pleasant journey. We have your table ready, if you will follow me.”

Julian gestured to Mary to precede him and she followed the Manager along a long wide corridor laid with a carpet she privately thought was thick enough to sleep on. As they crossed the dining room with it’s damask tablecloths and gleaming silver and crystal glassware, the Manager collected two waiters, seemingly with a glance, and it was quite a procession which emerged onto the terrace. Leading the way to a table laid for two by the stone balustrade which bordered the terrace, the Manager pulled out a chair with a flourish and Mary sat down. Julian sat down also and the two waiters executed a perfectly synchronised display of unfolding the napkins and placed them, reverentially on their laps

Julian declared they would have a sherry before ordering and the trio left them, much to Mary’s relief. A waiter returned with the sherry, sweet for her and dry for Julian, handed them the menus and wafted silently away. Turning to make sure he had gone, she saw he had retreated to the open doorway, took a sip of the sherry and grinned at Julian.

“I’m not used to this, you know.”

“You don’t mind, do you? I’m just so grateful to you for coming with me so I wanted you to treat you to the best. Relax, Mary. You look every inch the part, even if you don’t realise it.”

“It’s not really me. I’d have been just as happy in a little guest house.”

“Would you rather not stay here tonight? I could say we’ve changed our plans and we could go somewhere you’d feel more at home.”


For a second, Mary was tempted but, seeing the anxious look in his eyes, she chided herself for feeling ungrateful.

“No fear! This is wonderful and I really appreciate the treat. I was just taken aback and didn’t expect it.”

“Sure?”

“Quite sure. You’ll just have to nudge me every so often so I don’t do anything to let you down.”

“You’ll not do that. In any case, that is one of the nice things about having money. If you do anything unusual, they just think you are eccentric rather than odd.”

“Like Dorothy’s Aunt Gertrude! I’ll model myself on her.”

“That’s the spirit. She used to be a lot like you.”

“I can’t imagine it. She’s so confident.”

“So are you in lots of ways. I’ve seen you at school with the boys and the staff and you’re very confident there.”


Mary flushed and shrugged. “That’s different.”

“I’m going to disagree with you. Lots of people can’t do the job you do.”


Mary opened the menu as a way of changing the conversation. There seemed to be a bewildering choice and it certainly didn’t look as if rationing had any affect at this level of society.

Julian looked up. “They’ve their own farm and vegetable garden. It’s no different from Polgarth really. We never want for meat, vegetables, eggs, butter or cheese because we’ve got our own farm.”

“Are you reading my mind?”

“Just making a good guess.”

“H’mm. Julian, order for me, please. I haven’t a clue what half these dishes are.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“If it stands still long enough, I’ll eat it! I’m not keen on pigs trotters, though – all those bones you know.”


Julian shouted with laughter and Mary felt better knowing he was more relaxed. “I’m tempted to order them just to see what they’d do.”

“Probably produce them without even a raised eyebrow.”

“They might well at that. Such a temptation.”

“Not today! Just don’t order too much for me. I’m not used to a big lunch and I might fall asleep on one of your ancestors’ four posters.”


Julian raised a hand slightly and the waiter (if it was the same one, Mary wasn’t sure) appeared in an instant.

There followed a discussion which went over Mary’s head and she contented herself with sipping her sherry and looking over the countryside, hoping she looked sufficiently sophisticated to pass muster.

When the waiter had gone, she turned back to Julian. “Well, what are we having?” she asked. “I’d like to know ahead of time so I don’t have to guess.”

“An iced asparagus soup, as it’s so hot. Then, translated into plain language, pork tenderloin cooked in a mushroom sauce with pommes frite and petit pois.”

“Chips and peas.”
Corrected Mary. “That sounds lovely.”

She was about to speak again when she was startled by the reappearance of the waiter, who handed Julian a leather binder and did his disappearing act.

“He made me jump just then. I think they’re levitating! Have you noticed they don’t make any sound when they walk!”

“I think it’s bred into them. I can’t even tell them apart and if you go to a similar hotel in France, they look just the same.”

“Perhaps they follow you around?”


Julian pretended to consider the matter. “You could be right. I’d never thought of that before.”

“It would make a good detective story. ‘The Silent Waiter’.”

“Which author?”

“Agatha Christie. It would make a good puzzle for Poirot’s little grey cells.”

“I was thinking more of Sayer. It’s the sort of situation Lord Peter would find himself in.”

“In that case, I’m Harriet and I’ll solve it!”

“I can just see you! I’d better get on with choosing the wine.”


The lunch was as delicious as the surroundings and the service promised.

“You win.” Said Mary sipping the last of her wine.

“What do I win?”

“They were pommes frite and petit pois. To call them chips and peas would be an insult.”

“Would you like a dessert?”

“No thank you. I really couldn’t”

“Coffee, then?”

“No thank you. You’re just trying to delay going over to the house.”

“Now who’s reading minds?”

“That wasn’t difficult. Let’s get changed and get it over with. Oh, we didn’t bring our cases in.”

“They’ll be in our rooms.”

“Do you think they’ll faint if I put slacks on? They would make more sense for sliding down bannisters.”

“Would Gertrude wear them?”

“I’m sure she would. Lets go and get changed then.”


Soon they were back in the car, Mary in slacks and a light blouse with rolled up sleeves, while Julian had changed into light trousers and an open necked shirt.

“I’ll pick the keys up from the Estate Manager if you’ll wait in the car. I don’t fancy getting into a long conversation with him. He’ll only rattle on about how marvellous my father was and how much different things would have been if I’d stayed home and done my duty when he died. If I say you’re waiting in the car, I’ve an excuse not to hang about.”

“Fine. If you’re not out in ten minutes, I’ll come and rescue you. He sounds just like my Aunt Ethel.”

“Believe me, he is.”


Julian emerged in less than five minutes followed by an older man who was remonstrating with him. Mary stepped from the car and drawled “Do come on Julian. It’s hot in the car and I don’t want to hang about here all day.”

“I’ve got to go, Walters. I’ll be in touch.”
Mary waited till Julian was back at the car before getting in.

“Thank you. You’ve got the voice of authority! To him I’m just ‘young Master Julian’.”

“Poor man. I felt sorry for him. His whole life is being turned upside down, you know.”

“I know and I do feel sorry. It’s just that I couldn’t come back here. In any case, I may be rich but I couldn’t keep up a pile like this.”


As he spoke, they turned a bend in the drive and a magnificent vista opened before them. To their left was rolling countryside, dotted with massive trees, leading down to a lake. On their right stretched a magnificent building with two wings, flanking an imposing centre, fronted by six enormous pillars, rising to a pediment. Julian stopped the car on a large gravel forecourt edged with a low stone wall and a drop of about four feet to the grass where sheep were contentedly grazing.

“Good grief! It’s a palace, not a house.”

#155:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 30, 2006 9:18 pm
    —
Another wonderful episode - Mary is a real treasure, isn't she? Julian, hold onto her! Laughing

Thanks Pat.

#156:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Fri Jun 30, 2006 9:40 pm
    —
Romance! Kissing on a grand staircase, with stained glass behind them! Very Happy Please Pat? Pretty please!!

Thank you Very Happy

#157:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Jul 01, 2006 12:02 pm
    —
Wonderful!

Absolutely and Totally!

Very Happy

#158:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Jul 01, 2006 12:07 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad they're having a good time.

#159:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Jul 01, 2006 1:47 pm
    —
Oh, wonderful. Please let Mary slide down the bannisters and into Julian's arms!

#160:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Sun Jul 02, 2006 12:54 am
    —
Pat, that was delightful! Thank you.

#161:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Sun Jul 02, 2006 2:34 pm
    —
Wonderful, thank you Pat.

#162:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 11:35 am
    —
Absolutely spiffing!

Thank you Pat.

#163:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 12:08 pm
    —
This is lovely, I do like seeing developing romances! Smile

Thank you Patmac

#164:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 12:11 pm
    —
Just caught up on heaps of this. Wonderful as ever. Jacynth and Reg were so sweet, lovely to see hugh and Dorothy back again and come on Sir Julian - make your move soon! Wink Laughing

Thanks Pat.

#165:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 2:59 pm
    —
Thank you Pat, that was fabulous!

#166:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 6:19 pm
    —
This is getting ridiculous. I wanted to check something about Julian's background and couldn't remember which CS book it was in Shocked

It took me several minutes to realise that he came out of my head, not EBDs




They sat on the low wall to get a better view of the house. Now the first shock of the grandeur had worn off, Mary noticed that the gravel was dotted with weeds and moss while buddleia and even small trees had taken hold in crevices in the walls where pointing had fallen. Here and there, a gutter had leaked and a trail of moss spread down the stone. The windows were shuttered and dirty and the steps leading to the impressive front doors were strewn with half decayed leaves from the previous year.

Julian glanced across at her and noted that she looked more horrified than impressed.

“All those windows to clean!”

Julian laughed. “I might have realised you’d have your unique view on it. Now you see one of the reasons, I’d not like to live here. The days when armies of servants slaved from before dawn to after dusk to keep a place like this looking pristine are gone – thank goodness.”

“Let’s go and look inside.”
Mary started towards the house.

“We’ll take the car round to the kitchen door, Mary.”

Mary giggled. “Take the car round to the back door! That’s almost immoral.”

At the end of the house was a flight of steps, leading to the basement. Julian led Mary down the steps and fumbled for a moment with a large key before pushing open a plain door, leading into a bare, stone flagged passageway.

“Do you want to see the kitchens?”

“Yes, please.”


Turning left, he entered a square room with shelves round the sides. “This is where all the jams and preserves were stored.”

“That’s a lot of jam.”

“A lot of people to feed. I remember there being at least twenty servants living in and then others came each day from the cottages around the estate.”

“To look after – how many family?”

“Five, at the most – and guests.”

“That’s four each!”

“It was the house that took the effort and don’t forget there were twenty servants to feed as well as the day staff.”


Julian led the way into a larger room with a high ceiling. An enormous marble topped table stood in the middle and shelves and hooks round the walls held a large collection of copper pans and dishes. On one side was a huge fireplace with a large range set in, the door to one of the ovens, hanging lopsidedly open on one hinge. The only window was set high in the wall affording the merest glimpse of sky.

“I see they didn’t want the servants distracted by the view.”

“No. Mind you, they used to whitewash the windows in schoolrooms.”

“Meaning servants were no more responsible than children.”


Along another corridor, was a large room with two plank tables, benches at either side and a chair at the head. This, Julian told her, was the servants’ hall where they ate their meals, women on one table and men on the other.

Hooks lined the wall, on one hung a moleskin jacket, forgotten. Mary’s attention was drawn to the line of bells, high on the wall. Each was labelled with the name of a room.

“Did you really use these?”

“Hardly ever – at least not legally. They were for grown ups. I do remember getting thrashed for rushing round setting a whole load of them off when I was about five! Don’t forget I was packed off to school at seven and spent most of my holidays there. Father was away with the army and Mother couldn’t cope with boys. She said they made her head ache.”


As he talked, they had ascended a flight of narrow stairs and emerged into a large square hall. Their footsteps rang hollowly on the marble floor and Mary felt she should be tiptoeing.

Julian led the way across to where the double height front doors dominated one wall and turned. Mary stood beside him and looked round. Wide marble stairs rose before them to a broad landing and two matched and curving stairs continued up on either side. Looking at the plaster carvings over the five imposing door cases, two arches leading into passages and empty niches in the wall, Mary was struck again at the wealth which must have gone into this house.

“Did the house always belong to your family?”

Julian shook his head. “My family didn’t aspire to this sort of thing till my Great-Grandfather’s time. I come from a long line of traders and speculators – slaves, tea, coffee, precious metals – you name it, I’ve an ancestor involved in it. They gradually amassed a fortune and then my Great-Grandfather, married into an impoverished noble family. He wanted the connections with nobility, they wanted the money. This estate was part of the deal and money was poured into it to make it a paying concern. He wanted to be landed gentry and he acted the part, entertaining lavishly. Even Royalty visited but he never got his dearest wish which was to be made a Peer”

“What about his wife? Was she happy about marrying him?”

Great-Grandma didn’t have any say in it, I should imagine. She was the ugly duckling of the family, otherwise they’d have turned him down despite the money! She produced one boy and five girls – not what was hoped for.”

“Your Grandfather.”

“Yes. He was sent to Sandhurst and ended up a Lieutenant Colonel.”

“A more respectable profession than trade, I suppose.”

“I expect that was the idea. His wife produced one son - my father - and three girls, also disappointing dynastic ambitions. When his father died, he took over here and also became involved in the growing armaments industry, which is where he made even more money.”

“And your father followed him to Sandhurst – for the same reasons.”

“There was no question of my Father doing anything other than going to Sandhurst and then he sent my older brothers there. I was a bit of an afterthought, born after my father came home from the Boer War. The runt of the litter, he called me.”

“Nothing if not persistent, your family. You must have had a hard time resisting the pressure.”

“I was lucky really because it was just before he went off to the First World War that someone suggested sending me to Polgarth. I learned all I know of life there.

My brothers both died in the first year and Father retired a year later. I’ve found out since that he argued with people too high up. He was bitter because he had the same ambition as his Grandfather and felt he should have got a peerage out of World War I.”

“Your brothers got the death and he wanted the glory.”


He nodded. “We battled right up to his last illness about my future so I kept away as much as possible.

Mother had money of her own and left it to me when she died and that saw me through University. She left it to the discretion of her lawyer to advance me money from the income, though I couldn’t touch the capital till I was twenty five. Fortunately he seemed to think it was worth while letting me draw on the income to make my way through college.”

“Perhaps it was her way of helping you get out of your father’s clutches. She must have been very disillusioned if she’d already lost two sons to the Army.

“You could be right but there was no letter or message so I don’t know.”

“She might have considered it disloyal to actually come out and say ‘Go on, son. Get out of this mess. Do what you want.’ He was her husband, after all. When did your father die?”

“He died just as I graduated. I came home when he was taken ill, and after the funeral, took one look at the place and left as fast as I could. I’d been accepted for the Diplomatic Service and that’s where I wanted to be.


As they talked, they had wandered through room after room, some locked and full of furniture hidden under dustsheets, some unlocked and empty. The empty ones must be the ones the Government had used during the war, Mary guessed. All were dim with shuttered windows, and smelt musty. Whenever she touched anything, there was a thin film of dust. All the furniture she saw when she lifted the covers of the dustsheets was dark, heavy and ornate.

“I see why you needed twenty servants. This monstrosity alone must have taken a few hours to dust.” She commented, after examining one particularly ornate cabinet. “How many rooms are there?”

“I think there are fourteen on this floor.”

“You don’t even know?”

“I don’t even remember some of them. Children were not encouraged in most of them.”


They opened another door and Julian stopped, suddenly. “This one I do remember. It was my mother’s sitting room. I used to be dressed up and brought down after nursery tea to see her for twenty minutes when I was little – no more and no less. She lay on that sofa and I think she stayed in this room most of the time. I don’t remember seeing her anywhere else in the house.”

“Was she ill?”

“I don’t even know. No one told me and I never thought of it. To me it was normal for a mother to lay on a sofa. I didn’t know any different. Maybe she only lay on it when I came in. I’ve no idea.”


They walked on and finally came to the last room which was lined with bookcases. A large settee stood in front of the marble fireplace with comfortable chairs each side. Small tables stood by each chair and Mary idly lifted the dustsheet on one.

A book lay askew on the table, a bookmark peeping from the top half way through. “Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” Said Mary, reading the title.

“I was reading that while I waited for my father to die. He was unconscious and the Doctor and nurse told me to wait down here.. I remember the Doctor coming in to tell me he was dead and I must have just put it down.”

“Can we open the shutters?”
said Mary a little breathlessly. “It’s stuffy in here. Come on.”

As she struggled with the bolts, Julian had no choice but to help. Soon the late afternoon sun was streaming in and Mary saw that it was a beautiful room. Acting on impulse, she lifted the covers off the furniture and, bundling them up, flung them through the door into the passage way. Julian opened a window wide and fresh air entered, seemingly clearing more than the stuffy atmosphere.

After a moment, Mary sat in a chair by the fireplace and Julian silently wandered round the shelves, lovingly touching the spines of some of the leather bound volumes.

Eventually, he came and sat opposite her and picked up Gibbon.

“I suppose I ought to put this back on the shelf.”

“Better late than never. Will you want any of these books?”

“Where would I put them?”

“Good point. You might get them stored for the future, though.”


He shook his head. “No. I’m making a fresh start. I don’t want to clutter it up with the past. The ones I really want, I’ve already bought over the years.”

She stood up. “If you want to read any of them, there’s always Penguin editions or the Public Library.”

Unerringly crossing to a gap in a shelf, he reached up and then hesitated, removing the marker before slipping the Gibbon back in its rightful place. Mary had crossed to close the window and didn’t notice that he put the small photo in his wallet.

Together, they closed the shutters but, when Julian would have replaced the dust sheets, Mary shook her head.

“We’re coming back tomorrow morning and you can get the hotel to make us a flask of coffee to bring with us. This is the only room I’d feel comfortable sitting in, so let’s leave it ready. Putting the dust sheets back will be the last thing we do tomorrow. A sort of symbol, putting the past to rest.”

#167:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 6:47 pm
    —
I'd love for them to bring the house back to it's glory, with new happy memories for Julian Smile

Thanks Pat!

#168:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 7:58 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. It was interesting to learn about Julian's history.

#169:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 8:28 pm
    —
What an unhappy childhood - no wonder Julian wants to be rid of it.

Thanks Pat.

#170:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 8:45 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat, it's so lovely to see ther characters really coming to life. I know I'm always begging for more of this, but I'm so glad you decided to write this series.

#171:  Author: MLocation: Winchester PostPosted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:59 pm
    —
Sounds very much like a National Trust house being put to bed for the winter and someone not coming back in Spring. I wonder who the photo was of?

Like this a lot, thanks.

#172:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 4:38 am
    —
Thank you Pat - I could see that house, so heavy and ornate - and oppressive in certain ways.

#173:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 10:11 am
    —
Also wondering about the photo...poor Julian with such a childhood.

Thank you Pat

#174:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 3:03 pm
    —
Fascinating insight into Julian's life. Thanks Pat

#175:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 7:22 pm
    —
Slowly they retraced their steps through the servants’ quarters, Mary sticking her head round several open doors to see other rooms before they finally left through the back door.

Julian locked it. “Would you mind putting those in your handbag?” he asked. They won’t fit in my pocket.”

Mary stowed them away without comment, and they climbed into the car.

“Upstairs tomorrow, then I get to slide down the bannisters. I did notice they are lovely and smooth. For now, what I need is a bath. I’m all hot and sticky.”

They drove back to the hotel and retired to their rooms which were on the same corridor but at opposite ends. Mary chuckled to herself, wondering if Julian had ordered it so or whether the Hotel was being discrete. Either way, it was just as well. She might be a nobody but any silly gossip about Julian would not be a good thing!

Running a bath in the luxurious bathroom, she sniffed the bath salts. Lavender, lovely! Scattering in a generous handful, she swished the water and stepping in, sank gratefully down.

Lying back, she tried to sort out her impressions. Remembering her thoughts about not wanting to be rich, she smiled as she realised just how much she was enjoying the luxury. She didn’t think she’d want it all the time, though – just for a treat.

Poor Julian. He’d been so mortified that she would have preferred more modest accommodation. She should have realised that he would stay somewhere like this! It just pointed out the gap in their experience. The way he just raised his hand slightly and attentive waiters came running, or rather gliding, to meet his every wish. He wasn’t like that back at Polgarth.

She recalled her own languid drawl as she rescued Julian from his Estate Manager. She’d been acting a part. She wondered which part of his life Julian was acting – here or Polgarth. She rather hoped it was here.

He was nice. Not all that tall, but then neither was she. He was just the right height. She liked the way he looked directly at her when he talked. He had lovely hands.

She suddenly realised where her thoughts were leading yet again, and flushed. He was the most attractive man she had ever met.

“Mary Louisa Collins! Pull yourself together. He’s nearly twenty years older. He’s well educated, sophisticated and rich! You’re not a kid to get infatuated with a man, especially him. If you go on like this, you’ll have to leave Polgarth.” she muttered as she sat up hurriedly and reached for the soap.

*

Julian had bathed and was sitting on the window seat of his room in his dressing gown gazing at the snap he had been using as a book mark the night his father died, How he had come to leave it there, he had no idea. Perhaps something subconscious, perhaps just co-incidence. If Mary had not picked up the book, he would never have even known.

Nanny Gilbert looked back at him. Strange how the tiny snap had caught the twinkle in her eye. He hadn’t seen her since the day he set off for Winchester, an undersized boy, terrified of leaving home. No, not of leaving home - of leaving Nanny. Nearly thirty seven years ago, it was.

If ever he had children, he would want to bring them up himself, not leave them to the care of servants. He’d make jolly sure they were given the chance to decide their own lives as well! Still that wasn’t likely to happen now. It was getting a bit late in the day for that.

Unbidden, Mary’s face came to his mind. She was such a tonic and yet so understanding. He wondered if any other woman would have seen his need for fresh air and light in the library this afternoon? Probably not. She had a lovely smile and he liked the way her hair escaped its fastenings into little curls round her cheeks . . . . .

He had talked to himself several times on the subject since he realised how he felt about her. He hoped he wouldn’t have to leave Polgarth. Then again, Stacie had thought Mary liked him more than a little.

Perhaps.

He sighed and started to dress for dinner. He’d have to resolve this one way or the other before long. She was starting to haunt his dreams.

*

Julian went along the corridor at half past seven and knocked politely on Mary’s door.

She must have been waiting for she appeared instantly, wearing a long dark green dress and satin slippers with a lacy stole round her shoulders. Her wavy brown hair was piled high on her head and caught with a matching ribbon. Her bare arms showed brown to above her elbows and then faded to a smooth, flawless pink.

He stared at her. Speechless.

“Will I do?” she said, a little uncertainly. “I brought it because I’m going to a concert with Stacie next week. Is it too dressy?”

“It’s beautiful, and so are you.”
He blurted out.

She blushed. “I’m never going to be beautiful. My mouth is too big for that.”

Julian recovered himself. “I’ll beg to disagree. Don’t forget I can see you and you can’t.”

They walked arm in arm down the large staircase and were greeted with the same deference as before. This time, Mary was more ready for it and she held her head high as they entered the dining room. Several tables were occupied and she noticed that she and Julian were getting a lot of attention from the other diners.

“We’ll sit on the terrace for drinks. If it gets chilly we might decide to eat inside.”

Blessing Julian for the thought, Mary followed the Manager out of the big double doors and they were led to the table where they had had lunch.

“If you decide to eat out here, Sir Julian, it won’t take a moment to lay the table.” The Manager gestured to one of his underlings, bowed and retreated.

Julian waved away the wine list. “Are you getting any decent champagnes through now.”

There followed a technical discussion which Mary decided she did not need to even attempt to follow. Eventually the waiter glided away and she looked at Julian and laughed.

“I presume they have something you consider good enough to drink?”

“Oh, yes. Dom Perignon cuvée – the best.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Do you always go for the best?”

“When I can.”
Julian took her question more seriously than she intended it.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean the most expensive. The best lettuce I’ve ever tasted is what I’ve grown myself this year. It only cost the price of a packet of seeds – and that came from Dorothy’s mother, so it was free anyway! The real cost was the time spent on my knees thinning them out under Dorothy’s supervision. It tastes better than any I’ve ever bought.”

“So you’re saying that it’s not always just buying the best.”

“Of course. Money is only worth what it can buy and tonight it happens to be buying good champagne. Next week the tomatoes may be ripe in the garden and I’ll pick one and eat it with just as much pleasure.”


The silent arrival of the wine waiter stopped conversation. He carried a silver bucket in which rested a bottle which Mary recognised by the wires round the cork, as champagne. In his other hand, he held two tall, narrow crystal cut glasses.

With the inevitable flourish, he lifted the bottle and held it for Julian’s inspection of the label. Julian nodded and, with a deft twist, he removed the wire, eased the cork from the bottle and carefully poured a tiny amount into Julian’s glass.

Julian sniffed, sipped, deliberated and nodded.

The waiter then filled Mary’s glass and topped up Julian’s.

“We’ll pour for ourselves, thank you.”

Mary was about to speak when a plate of small cubes of cheese, tastefully arranged with sticks of celery was placed on the table. A dish of small crackers followed and a small plate appeared in front of her. Looking up, she saw a waiter she was absolutely sure she had never seen before. As she murmured her thanks, he glided away in the same manner as the others.

“I think you were about to say something?” Julian queried.

“I’ll look over my shoulder before I say anything again!” she exclaimed. “That was a new one! Do you suppose they’re calling in reinforcements?”

“Possibly. On the other hand, it could just be the evening shift.”

“That’s just a cover for their nefarious plot.”

“And what is the plot?”

“I haven’t thought that part out yet but it must be dastardly.”

“Perhaps we ought to drink the champagne, it might help us to work it out.”

“It might be drugged.”


Julian tapped the side of his nose with his finger and leaned towards her.

“That’s why I always insist on having the cork removed in front of me.” He whispered.

Mary’s laughter rang round the terrace and she picked up her glass.

“You win that round!”

They both sipped the champagne and Mary raised her eyebrows. “I see what you mean. I’ve had champagne at weddings and it’s been nothing like this. If you’d asked me if I wanted champagne, I’d have said no, thank you, but this is wonderful.”

“It’s a treat. I don’t drink it every day, you know.”


When Julian lifted the bottle, Mary placed her hand over her glass.

“How strong is it? I’d hate to get drunk in public.”

“It’s no stronger than ordinary wine – less so than that parsnip wine you drunkards at the Lodge made last year.”

“The country name for that is Tangle Foot.”
Mary confided, “It was potent wasn’t it. We’ve got an extra row of parsnips in this year so we can make even more. If you’re sure, then yes, please.”

By the time they had finished the Champagne, there was a cool breeze and Mary had to agree that they ought to eat indoors.

“I just didn’t like the way everybody looked at us. I’m not used to being stared at.”

“They’re just impressed with you and wondering who you are.”

“I doubt it. They’re probably wondering who’s that girl with Sir Julian Roper. You don’t want that kind of gossip.”


Julian shook his head. “They don’t know who I am. I’ve kept right out of Society. I’ve never had the inclination for it and I could do my job better by remaining anonymous. I left the showy bits to the Ambassadors and the like. Anyway, Gertrude wouldn’t care.”

“If she did she wouldn’t show it, you mean.”

“I don’t want to spoil your evening. We’ll eat out here if you’d rather.”

“No, I’m just being silly. I shall pretend they’re a new form I haven’t taught before. I always get the collywobbles before I teach a new class and it’s always easier than I expect.”


Throughout the excellent dinner, they kept the conversation light. Gradually the Dining Room emptied and, looking up, Mary saw that they were the only guests left, though there were still three waiters in the room.

“I think we ought to leave now. They’re probably waiting to clear up.”

“I’ll see if the Library is free. We could have coffee in there.”


Soon, they were sitting on a large settee in a small, book-lined room with a tray of coffee in front of them. “Just ring if you require anything else, Sir.” The waiter withdrew, closing the door behind him as silently as he did everything else.

Mary poured and passed Julian his cup.

“Thank you.”

“This is nice. It’s not as imposing as your father’s library – more domestic somehow. I know what I was going to ask. Did you’re father read a lot?”

“Good grief, no! He grumbled over the news in the Times every day but that was it. Reading was for cissies like me.”

“Then why have a roomful of books?”

“Status. All the best houses have libraries, the bigger the better.”

“Like the Second Form boys boasting about how many marbles they’ve won.”

“I’m sure that comment just had him spinning in his grave but, yes. Though it’s worse, really. You can buy books by the yard.”

“I wonder sometimes if some boys buy them and sneak them into their collections a few at the time, there certainly seem to be more marbles at the end of term than the beginning.

It’s not confined to the rich, you know. My Mum had a pair of Staffordshire Dogs on her parlour mantelpiece. Ugly brutes, and I was a bit scared of them when I was about two but she was so proud of them. Everyone who was respectable had them and she put every farthing of tuppence on being respectable.

When she moved in with Auntie Ethel, she insisted on bringing them and they’re on the mantelpiece in her bedroom. I suppose they give her a sort of comfort just like your Father’s library gave him - a symbol of their achievements, though I’m sure I’ve just set him spinning again by that association as I don’t expect he ever saw a Staffordshire Dog in his life.”

“I’d not really thought of it that way. I just felt scorn for someone who wanted books just for show.”

“I suppose I felt a bit of that for Mum and I’m feeling a bit ashamed now. I was just trying to understand things by relating it to something in my own life, even if it was a silly comparison.”

“It wasn’t silly, Mary. You’ve made me understand my father a bit better. I suppose we all do things like that. Status and being respectable – the same thing really. Always aspiring to the next level.”

“I was just about to disagree with you there but Mum comes from a very poor family and she clawed her way up to being respectable, despite my Dad dying and having next to no money. Then she was keen for me to go further – the next level, if you like.”

“And what are our symbols?”

“Mine’s got to be education. It gave me the freedom to do what I want.”

“Me, too. We’re not so unalike, you know.”

“Maybe, but you got a lot farther than me. I just went to Grammar School on a scholarship and then Teacher Training College.”

“That’s quite an achievement. My schooling was paid for by my parents with no real effort on my part while you had to work for yours. I did so badly at school when I was young, everyone despaired of me. I’d never have passed a scholarship.”

“Pull the other one. You’re much cleverer than me!”

“Ask John Wheeler sometime. He put a lot of effort in getting me interested in learning.”


Mary hesitated and then asked, rather tentatively. “Don’t answer this if you don’t want to ‘cos it’s awful cheek, but just how rich are you? I still can’t get over you giving away that enormous house.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit tactless today, not realising just how shocked you would be.”
He took a deep breath. “At the last counting I have over a million pounds – not all in cash! A lot of it is in stocks and shares.”

He waited anxiously for her reaction.

“Counting the house?”

“No, after that’s gone and I’ve made over a few hundred thousands to the National Trust. That’s how I know. The lawyers insisted on counting it all up before I signed the house over.”

“How much is in armaments?”

“Not a penny! You should have heard the lawyers and accountants scream when I insisted on getting rid of those shares after Father died.”

“Good for you. So all those years you worked as a diplomat, you didn’t really need to?”

“I wanted to, though. If you had a lot of money, would you do nothing?”


Mary refilled the coffee cups to give herself time to think.

“No. I’d never make a lady of leisure. I’d have to do something.”

“Mary.”


She looked up and what she saw in his face made her hands shake.

Julian gently removed the cup from her nerveless hands.

“I’ve been putting this off for weeks and I’ve got to say it. I like you a lot more than I’ve any right to. In fact, I’ve fallen in love with you. Don’t hold my money against me, please. Do I stand any chance?”

#176:  Author: EilidhLocation: Macclesfield PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 7:59 pm
    —
Of course he stands a chance! Doesn't he?

Thanks Pat.

#177:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 8:10 pm
    —
Awwwww!!!
PLEASE say yes Mary! Please!!!

Thank you Pat!!! Very Happy

#178:  Author: PatLocation: Doncaster PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 8:56 pm
    —
Of course he stands a chance! He'd better !!!

#179:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 9:08 pm
    —
YES!!! The answer is yes Mary - go for it! Laughing

And well done Julian for asking the question.

Thanks Pat.

#180:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 9:54 pm
    —
Thanks Pat.
I do love this.

#181:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 10:41 pm
    —
I saved catching up on this one for a holiday treat, and it was, all the way through. Very Happy Particularly amusing given my nieces' artifact hunt this weekend, though I fear their "pottery" is actually stained pieces of broken bottle.

*also watches Mary & Julian hopefully*

Note: I still haven't heard any actual Americans use the "American" slang, unless you count "rubberneck" as a verb meaning "to strain to look at something you probably shouldn't," as done by "rubberneckers" who snarl traffic by craning to look at an accident, or (this may have been the original sense) try to see someone else's cards.

#182:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 10:56 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I hope that Mary will give Julian a chance.

#183:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 11:22 pm
    —
That was so romantic. I was scrolling down the page hoping it wouldn't finish...

#184:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jul 04, 2006 11:55 pm
    —
Yes he does, he does!!!

Thank you Pat, this was lovely. Julian is so very wise and listens to others so acutely. I appreciated his comments about money - and the best not necessarily being the most expensive.

And the Staffordshire dogs - we had a pair of those too when I was little!(they are currently in my mother-in-law's loft in Peterborough and I'm working out how to fit them into my suitcase in September)

#185:  Author: Mrs RedbootsLocation: London, UK PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 4:44 pm
    —
Go for it, Mary!

Thanks, Patmac. I haven't much time to get engrossed in the CBB right now, but this is one of the stories I look out for!

#186:  Author: RayLocation: Bristol, England PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 6:33 pm
    —
Paaaat!

You've been taking evil lessons from certain other board members - and I felt SURE I was going to find one last update that would relieve my curiosity...

*sigh*

This, as ever, has been excellent and I've been thoroughly enjoying it.

Even if I am now sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for Mary's response.

Ray *precariously balanced*

#187:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 7:11 pm
    —
[quote="Ray"]Ray *precariously balanced*[/quote] Sorry Ray. You may now recover your balance. Wink



Gently, Mary placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

“Julian. Don’t say anything you’ll regret. I’m not used to your sort of life – you saw how nervous I was when we arrived here.”

“You don’t feel like that when we’re at Polgarth, do you?”

“No but you won’t want to stay there forever. You’re still getting over the war and you’ll get bored eventually and want to go back to London. You need someone who can fit in with that life.”


Julian shook his head.

“I’m not promising Polgarth is for life. Neither of us can say that, it might even be you who would want to move on. I’m not going back to my old life, though. Twenty odd years of that was more than enough. The world has moved on and I’ve nothing more to give. I’m sure I will want to do something else but I want it to be with you.”

“Why have you kept on your London Flat then. You’ve let it, not sold it.”

“At first, it was because I needed time to think. For the last few months, I didn’t dare sell it in case I had to leave.”

“Leave?”

“I’ve known for some time how I feel. We’ve become such good friends and it isn’t enough for me. If you don’t care for me, I’ll leave Polgarth and get out of your life. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

“Sell it then.”

“What? Does that mean ……. “


Mary took a deep breath and reached for his hands.

“It means you don’t need to run away. I love you, too. You’re the first man I’ve ever even considered I’d want to marry and we’ll just have to work out the difficulties as we go along. It may not be easy, but it will be worth it.”

Julian looked at her almost unable to believe what he had heard. Slowly he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. It was almost a reverence and not at all what Mary wanted, with all her senses on fire.

Freeing her hands, she placed her hand on the back of his head and pulled him towards her and the next kiss was immensely more satisfying.

#188:  Author: RayLocation: Bristol, England PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 7:14 pm
    —
*slides off seat in relief*

Thank you Pat Smile That was lovely.

Ray *off to recover her chair!*

#189:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 7:39 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat - I've spent a disproportionate amount of time today worrying about those two!

#190:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 7:50 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Mary put Julian out of his misery.

#191:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 8:28 pm
    —
Thank goodness she's accepted. I'd never have forgiven her if she hadn't. Oops, she's not really real, is she.

#192:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 12:41 am
    —
Thank goodness!!!

#193:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 7:04 am
    —
Very glad they've got that sorted.

#194:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 10:50 am
    —
Almost glad I couldn't come on yesterday to have to wait for that! Yay for Julian and Mary!

Thank you Pat!

#195:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 1:51 pm
    —
Yes! Yay!!

Thank you Pat!!! Very Happy

#196:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 3:17 pm
    —
Awwwww, at last! I think they'll make each other immensely happy! Very Happy

Thanks Pat.

#197:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 5:44 pm
    —
Glad you're all pleased at the outcome - I assume you all put your hats away safely after Dorothy and Hugh's wedding?





Mary lay in bed, unable to sleep as her thoughts churned. She smiled as she remembered how she had barely been able to restrain him from ringing for another bottle of champagne. He had been so excited that, for a little while, she felt the older of the pair.

She thought back to the afternoon and that great mouldering pile of a house and shuddered. There had been an air of oppression about the place. Some of that was due to the shutters being closed and that it had been shut up for so long - but not all of it.

Before today, she had laughed at the existence of ghosts and had boasted to more sensitive friends that she didn’t have a psychic bone in her body - but that house held an unhappy feeling. Perhaps The National Trust would be able to dispel that when they had cleaned it up and aired it.

Some of the rooms had been downright creepy and there were bulges on the chairs under the dust sheets – probably just piles of cushions but some of them looked like people!

Everything was just for show. Mum had her Staffordshire Dogs, her ‘symbol’ of respectability and they had been kept in the parlour which was only used for visitors – another symbol, now she thought about it – but the rest of the house was for living in, not to impress other people.

She wondered how Julian had managed to grow up being so nice and caring. Someone must have loved him and nurtured that side of his personality. Perhaps she could talk to John. Julian had jokingly suggested it but it seemed wrong to ask anyone else about him.

He was a complex man and she would need to understand him if she was going to be his partner. She believed him when he said he didn’t want to go back to his old life but he would need something more than pottering around in Polgarth once he had recovered fully. She realised now that it wasn’t just the War that had got him down so much – he seemed to have had no love in his life ever.

Julian. She recalled the touch of his hands, his lips, and longed to feel them again.

There was no way she was going to get to sleep! She’d get up and fetch a glass of water from her bathroom. What she really wanted was a cup of tea. If she rang the bell, she was sure someone would fetch her one. She got out of bed and took a deep breath. Slipping on her dressing gown, she crossed to the fireplace and rang the bell. There! It was done now.”

It seemed next to no time before a quiet knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

“You rang, Miss?”


A young maid, immaculately dressed in black with a white starched apron and cap, stood waiting.

“Do you suppose I could have a pot of tea, please.”

“Certainly, Miss. China or Indian?”

“Indian please and would you make it really strong.”

“Certainly, Miss.”


The girl left and Mary was thankful that she hadn’t got someone out of bed. Even the magical waiters couldn’t have got dressed in the time it took for the maid to appear. She must be on night duty.

She thanked the maid effusively when she returned, not being sure if she should tip her or not and determining to find out the correct procedure from Julian in the morning. Mary drew open the curtains and sat on the window seat to drink her tea, feeling calmer. What really mattered was the future and now that Julian was at the centre of that, everything could be worked out.

As she climbed back into bed, leaving the curtains back so she could see the stars, she smiled. She’d taken her first step. It might be a small one, but ringing for a pot of tea at two in the morning was a big thing for her. She must remember to tell Julian – it would make him laugh.

Mary slept with a smile on her face.

*

The next morning , they were both up early. After only a short deliberation, Mary donned her slacks again. No way would Dorothy’s Aunt Gertrude have dressed up only to get changed again in half an hour. She was meeting Julian in the entrance hall at eight o’clock and she bustled round, packing.

She had been dumbfounded to find her case unpacked and all her belongings put away when she came up to change after lunch the previous day and had had a right old hunt for her socks which meant she had thrown her dress down on the bed and not hung it up. She had then been rather chagrined to find it hung in the wardrobe when she returned. It had felt like a reproach on her untidiness and she imagined the maid sighing as she saw yet another example of the laziness of the idle rich. She wasn’t at all sure that she liked that sort of cosseting. It couldn’t be good for the soul!

Julian’s glance of approval at her appearance made her feel she had made the right choice in wearing her slacks and, after a quick kiss in greeting, she led the way through to the Dining Room with aplomb. She felt sufficiently buoyant to specify that her tea should be strong and chose poached eggs on toast from the menu.

When the waiter had gone, she leaned closer to Julian and whispered.

“You notice I’ve got my back to the wall so no evil waiter can sneak up on me unawares?”

“Good thinking. I also noticed you had the sense to ask for strong tea.”

“I wondered if you noticed.”


He laid his hand on hers. “It’s not so difficult, is it?”

“I did pack my own case though. I couldn’t face leaving it to someone else.”

“I’ll forgive you. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Go on.”

“I always pack mine as well.”


Mary’s laugh caused some turned heads but she didn’t care.

“I love you Julian. Look out one of ‘THEM’ is coming over with our breakfasts.”

Julian didn’t quite manage to school his features before his eggs and bacon appeared in front of him but he thought he did quite well. The matter of a thermos flask, however, got out of hand and it was a full picnic hamper which was placed reverentially in the trunk of the old Hillman before they left.

“What time is Stacie expecting you?”

“Around four o’clock. I wanted to leave plenty of time and not have her fretting. I could always have a look round Oxford if we get there early.”

“We’ll see. We could picnic, get back to the hotel for our cases and still get to Oxford by four.

“That sounds good. We’ll get more time together and I don’t like the idea of you having that long drive too soon after we finish up at the house.”

“I don’t see that it should take too long. Upstairs is less likely to be of interest to you than downstairs. Most of the rooms were used for second class visitors, except for the nursery which is bound to be empty. After all it is nearly thirty seven years since I moved out of there.”

“But I may want more than one slide down the bannisters.”


They were pulling up outside the kitchen steps as she spoke and Mary handed him the keys before asking “Where was your room after you left the nursery and went to school?”

“Oh, it varied. Mostly in one of the spare rooms. I was only there for a couple of weeks at a time at most.”

“All those rooms and you didn’t have your own?”

“I suppose I did at first but, once I got to Polgarth, that was home. I only came back here for short visits so I just brought back what I needed. Even for the summer vacation I never packed my trunk. My father just sent a cheque to Polgarth and Matron bought my clothes and gave me my allowance.”


They went silently through the kitchen regions, up into the hall and then ascended the impressive staircase. Julian stopped once near the top of the stairs. “I used to hide here and watch visitors in the Big Hall when I was little. That’s where I remember seeing my mother, apart from in her sitting room. I’d forgotten! She stood with my father to greet the guests. I remember her being beautiful in her evening dress.”

They carried on and reached the top of the stairs. A long corridor stretched in each direction.

“Which way was it to the nursery?”

“To the left.”


Without waiting for his agreement, Mary set off to the left, opening doors and peering in as she went.

“You’re right! Bedroom after bedroom. All as grim as each other! How did anyone sleep in them! I’d have nightmares.”

They had neared the end of the passage and she reached for the handle of yet another door.

“That’s empty.” The pitch of Julian’s voice alerted Mary and she flung open the door regardless.

As she entered, she dimly saw a large room, sparsely furnished and, instinctively, went swiftly to the shutters, yanking the bolts and pushing them back before he could stop her. She had to stand on the window seat to get the window open and then she turned as the fresh air rushed in and saw that this room had not been shrouded in dustsheets. Bare floorboards, relieved only by a lovingly made rag rug. A dilapidated rocking chair by the mean little fireplace with a patchwork cushion on it’s seat. A white painted cupboard, chipped and faded with years of cleaning. A plain deal table with four mismatched chairs. To one side a half open door led to a bedroom with two beds. Of course. Nanny would be expected to be on duty even at night. Mary took this in at a glance and then saw that Julian was staring at a clockwork train set, laid out on the floor, as if waiting for it’s owner’s return.

For a moment, she held her breath and then went slowly towards him, being careful not to block his line of sight.

She gently laid her hand on his arm. “Yours?”

He nodded. “I was playing with it when they came to take me to school. I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know I’d never come back to the Nursery and Nanny.”

“You’ve never been in here since?”

“No. It was the next summer when I came home again. Nanny had gone and, I don’t know why, I never looked in here. I suppose I didn’t dare. I always had a bedroom on the other passage. I wonder why she didn’t put it away?”

“Perhaps she left it for you to find when you came home? She would know she wouldn’t be here and that no one would disturb it. The box is on the table. Let’s take it for another child who, I promise, will never go through that.”


Julian gazed at her and she wondered if he had heard.

“Mary.” He said at last, his heart in his voice.

“Julian, darling, I promise.”

She picked up the box, and kneeling down, she gently unhooked the engine from the tender.

“I think you’re going to have to help me pack it.”

Julian knelt beside her and deftly packed the pieces as she handed them to him.

“There.” Said Mary. “Are you sure there’s nothing else in here you would want?”

“No.”
he replied, shaking his head. “This was the one thing I remembered through all the years.”

“Let’s close it all back up, then and get back downstairs.”


Together, they closed the windows and shutters and Julian picked up the box. Hand in hand, they went through the doorway and Mary shut the door before turning to Julian and holding him tight. This time the kiss was different. Last night their first kiss had set all their senses on fire.

This time it held a promise of a meeting on another level, one neither had realised could exist. A realisation that they would be there for one another through thick and thin. Partners, best friends. They would face the future shoulder to shoulder, back to back. trusting, protecting one another. The other was more immediate but this offered a different and subtler promise – not more important but longer lasting than sheer physical attraction – a lifetime commitment.

“Oh, Mary.” Julian whispered as they drew apart. “I couldn’t cope without you.”

“I feel the same. Why did it take us so long to admit it?”


The emotion of the moment, seeming to set the very air cracking with energy, was too much for Mary and she took refuge in her usual breezy persona.

“And now do I get to slide down the bannisters?”

Julian, feeling the same and knowing that now was neither the time nor the place for the forthright expression of such deep feelings took a deep breath.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I catch you at the bottom and you pay me for every slide.”


Mary’s laugh dispelled yet more of the unhappy ghosts which haunted the house.

“So that’s how your family got so rich. Charging us poor people for slides down the bannisters. How much? Remember I could get a ride on the big dipper at Blackpool for tuppence.”

Julian made his best attempt at a leer.

“How about a kiss?”

“That wasn’t very scary. I think you need practice at being evil.”


She glanced at her wristwatch.

“Let’s get on with it, then. I think I can afford at least three of those.”

When they finally locked the house, Mary held out her hand for the keys.

“Let me give them back. The last thing you want is another confrontation with your version of my Aunt Ethel.”

#198:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 7:25 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm sorry that Julian never got a chance before this to go back to the Nursery. I'm glad though that they have now got the chance to take the train set.

#199:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 8:29 pm
    —
How sad - but love mary's promise to Julian that their child will not face that.

Thanks Pat.

#200:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 12:10 am
    —
That was very moving Pat - the train set and their realisation of the fact that they are now "partners" and "Best friends." And Mary's realisation that she can give Julian the love that he hasn't had will give her a secure footing in this relationship.

Loved all the little details Pat - like the fact that the nursery was so poorly furnished and the way Julian hid to watch his mother at night.

#201:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 10:55 am
    —
Crying or Very sad but lovely too.

Thank you.

#202:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 12:51 pm
    —
Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy Very Happy

Thank you, Pat

#203:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 12:55 pm
    —
Have dusted off the hat and matching shoes! *g*

The bit with the train set brought a lump to my throat. Thank goodness for Nanny.

Thanks Pat. Love the idea of them sliding down the bannisters!

#204:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 7:45 pm
    —
Thank you Pat! Poor Julian! What a cruel way to treat a small child!

#205:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 8:18 pm
    —
“Let’s go through into the kitchen and you just have to tell me everything!”

The arrival of Julian, with his arm possessively round Mary had filled Stacie with satisfaction. In her eyes, they were well matched and she had dropped an encouraging hint to Julian at her own leaving party. Now it appeared he had acted on it and not before time!

She had shouted with laughter at their account of Mary sliding down the bannisters and offered her own theories as to the dastardly plot the waiters were involved in, all the while feeling rather smug that she had predicted this outcome.

They had sworn her to secrecy, though she privately thought that one glimpse of them together would alert even the most insensitive of people that something was in the air. Julian had left, rather reluctantly, promising to return the following week to collect Mary.

Over a cup of coffee, Mary confided everything to Stacie.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you? Not yet. There’s so much to sort out.” she pleaded as she finished.

Stacie shook her head and flushed. “No fear! No one’s ever confided anything like that to me before and I’m so excited. I’m thrilled for you, Mary.”

“I’m so glad you’re first to know. You remember walking to collect the milk that day?”

“I nearly didn’t tell you my story then, you know. I’d never talked to anyone about my childhood before and you somehow made it easy. I felt freer afterwards – odd that. I expect the psychologists have a fancy name for it but I’ve felt better ever since.”

“You certainly look well.”

“I am. Leaving to teach at Polgarth was the best thing I could have done. Not only did it put the stupidity of some of the structure here into perspective, it gave me confidence to deal with the Dons as well. Do you realise some of them have never left Oxford since they graduated themselves. Anyone who has actually dared to leave of their own accord and come back has got to be either mad or exceptionally brave! Since they can’t dent my credentials, they have to assume I’m braver than them. After all, I did venture as far as Yorkshire!”

“And a woman, to boot!”

“Oh, it isn’t as bad as Cambridge. Women still can’t be full members there – I think they’ve dug their own grave, though. They elected a woman to a Professorship just before the War and have been running round ever since wondering how to regularise the situation. There’s talk of electing a woman here within the next year.”

“I thought there was one. Didn’t I read something in The times about it last year?”

“Ah! That was Professor Mann. She’s been a Reader since 1941 and they made her Titular Professor last year.”

“Titular? That means?”

“In name only.”

“Stupid, if you ask me.”

“Very! However, the cracks are there.”

“It just remains to prise them open. You’ll do it!”

“Probably not me, personally. I’d like to get my D. Lit at some point but spending time at Polgarth changed some of my views. I’m in the lucky position of not needing any funding and being able to pay my way so I don’t need to kow-tow to any of them. What I really want is to study what interests me and to ignore the politics and status battles. So long as I know I’m doing good work it’s all that matters.”

“Status.
” Said Mary thoughtfully and told Stacie of the conversation about status that the library had engendered.

“I shall remember that bit about the Second Form and their marbles! It describes some of the academics here to a ‘T’. Respectability, status – I see what you mean about it all being inevitable. Otherwise everyone would be stuck where they are. Everyone needs a goal and why shouldn’t people aspire to better themselves and then get the rewards for their effort. It’s difficult sometimes when people give you a status you don’t want, though.”

“Meaning?”

“When I first came up, a lot of the Dons saw me as Father’s daughter, rather than myself. I didn’t want that but they couldn’t see me any other way for a while You’re going to be Lady Roper and people will have a certain view of you just by the name.”

“But … Oh, no! I hadn’t thought of that. Tell me I don’t have to be.”


Stacie nodded solemnly, though her eyes were dancing.

“I can’t do it! Not in a month of Sundays could I carry that off.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Never!”

“Oh, yes you will.”

“I can’t!”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ve mentioned Mrs Russell, my old head from school, before. She helped me so much when I was such a pig headed youngster.

Her husband was made Sir James a little while ago and she, according to Jo, carried on loudly for weeks, saying she wouldn’t be called Lady Russell for anything. She’s coming to Oxford this week with her husband who is giving some lecture or other and she wrote and asked me if I could meet her for lunch.

I replied that you were staying so couldn’t commit to it but would phone the hotel to arrange something if I could. How about coming with me? She’s been through it. You’ll love her! Hang on, I’ve got her reply here somewhere. Here, read that and see what you think.”


Mary opened the envelope and took out the letter.


‘Dear Stacie,

I quite understand that we may not be able to meet as you have Miss Collins staying but I really would like to see you if you can manage it. Doctor Jem (I’ll never manage to refer to him as ‘Sir James’) and I were so pleased to be back in touch with you again.

Jo says you’ve changed but not changed – very unhelpful and typically Jo. You’d never believe she writes books would you, the way she speaks. Pressed on the matter all she would say was that I’d have to see for myself!

I suppose we’ve all changed over the past few years. With all that has happened, it was inevitable I suppose, but Jem’s baronetcy seemed the last straw. He deserves it and I was thrilled for him till I realised how it changed the way people saw me. I’ve done nothing to earn a title. I’m sure someone called ‘Lady Russell’ shouldn’t be digging potatoes for lunch and bandaging grazed knees.

We are staying at the MacDonald Randolph – a far cry from the Kron Prinz Karl, I’m afraid. How I wish we were going to stay there again.

Do come if you can and bring Miss Collins, if she would not be too bored by our reminiscing. I’ve heard of her from young Reg and I gather she is responsible for the large number of kites we see flying in the sky whenever there is enough wind. Even Jem is looking interested in them and the exercise would do him good.

Don’t let her be put off by the title, please. Tell her I’m your old Head or something.

Love

Madge’

“She sounds nice. All right, I’ll come with you. Now, show me round the house. I’m dying to see everything.”

“It needs a lot of work, mainly painting and papering though, nothing major.. I’m hoping you’ll have some ideas. You’ve got a good sense of colour.”


The house was a typical three bedroom semi-detached house, built in the 1920s. “I was lucky as it came on the market the day I started enquiries and I snapped it up. The thing that attracted me most was the garden. It needs a lot of work but I enjoyed gardening at the Lodge and found it very relaxing. I don’t play any sport so it should help me to get some exercise as well. You’ll have to excuse the state of it all. I decided to do as little as possible till you came and we could look at it together.”

The explored the house from top to bottom and Mary admired and suggested till they came to the last bedroom.

“Goodness! What’s in all these boxes?”

"Books. I’ve no idea where I’m going to put them all.”

“Are you going to make one room into a study?”

“I hadn’t thought of it. Living alone, I could easily work at the dining room table.”


Mary shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’d never get away from your work and your books would be scattered all over the house. I know! Why not make the back bedroom into a study and get bookshelves built in all round. Then you’d have a proper place to study and you can leave it behind when you’re not working.”

“You mean just have one spare bedroom?”

“Get a bed settee for the sitting room and that will do for an extra.”


*
Over the next few days, Stacie showed Mary round Oxford, visiting all the main colleges and spending several hours in the Ashmolean on one day and the Pitt Rivers Museum on another. In between, they worked in Stacie’s small garden, chose colours for the rooms she intended to decorate, made curtains and spent the evenings sitting on the small terrace outside, reading or chatting. Every day, a letter was delivered in Julian’s bold handwriting and Mary replied, sometimes with a short note or card but most days with a longer letter.

On the Thursday, they were to meet Lady Russell for lunch and set off in good time to walk to the hotel. Mary was a little taken aback when a small slender, woman rushed across the Reception Hall to Stacie with no pretence of dignity and kissed her on the cheek, before holding her at arms length and scrutinising her carefully.

“Oh, Stacie! It is good to see you again, and looking so well.” Recalling herself to her surroundings, she held out her hand to Mary and smiled. “You must be Miss Collins. I’ve heard about you and your kites – and the good work you’ve been doing for the boys at the San. Come on. I’ve booked a private dining room so we can let our hair down as we gossip.”

As she turned, Mary was amused to see an attentive member of staff hovering to lead the way and they all went down a corridor and into a room where a table was laid for three and easy chairs were set round a small table by the window, already laid with a tray of dainty cups and saucers, ready to serve coffee.

“Do either of you know anything about wine? Oh well, neither do I! Do you prefer a white or a red?”

“Perhaps white and fairly light?”
suggested Stacie. “It would be more refreshing.”

“I’m afraid that’s all the guidance you’ll get from us.”
Madge smiled winningly at the waiter, firmly replacing the wine list in his hand. “We’ll leave ourselves in your capable hands.”

Once the waiter had left, Lady Russell grinned, looking more like a schoolgirl than the wife of a famous Doctor and mother of four. “I get the most reprehensible urge to shock them. I wonder what he would have said if we’d ordered ginger beer?”

“It wasn’t that funny.”
She protested as Stacie and Mary went off into peals of laughter at her words.

“I’m sorry, Lady Russell. It’s just that I said something similar the other day.”

“Please call me Madge. I’m still looking over my shoulder to see who this Lady Russell is!”


There was silence for a few minutes as the waiter reappeared and poured the wine. When he had gone, leaving the menus, Stacie started to explain.

“Mary is struggling with an Awful Dilemma, Madame. She has just accepted a proposal from a lovely man but he’s a Baronet and she hadn’t realised that she would have to be Lady Roper. She’s most properly horrified and I wondered if you had any tips.”

“It was all a bit sudden. We’ve been friends for ages and I’d no idea of how he felt. We stayed at a rather exclusive hotel last week and I had to ask him to order for me. When he asked if there was anything I didn’t like, I light-heartedly said pigs trotters and we joked about what they would do if I ordered them. Of course I told Stacie and that’s why we laughed.”

“Ah! I see now why the ginger beer got you going. I thought you’d been seriously deprived of any humour in your lives recently. By the way, Stacie, I think it’s time you called me Madge as well. I haven’t been Madame for many a long day.”

“I’ll try, but I think of you as Madame and it will take some getting used to.”


Lunch was served and the talk turned to reminiscences of old days at the Chalet School while Mary listened avidly. She had read school stories till the books fell apart and dreamed of going to boarding school herself, till she realised that such things were only for the select few.

“I hope we’re not boring you.” Madge apologised, with a smile.

“Not at all. I’ve heard about lots of these people from Stacie and Dorothy already. We’ve got Mercy Barbour with us as well now and I met Mrs Maynard at Dorothy’s wedding. Oh, and I’ve met Hilary Burn, Dorothy’s friend. I feel I’d know a lot of the other girls if I met them in the street.”

“I forgot you’d got a Chalet School outpost at Polgarth. You know Jem and I visited once?”


Mary nodded. “It was before my time but I’ve heard the story. It was when Reg saved Hanson up on the moors”

“It must be nearly three years ago, now. Ailie was only a baby and now she’s running round making mischief. I did hope I’d have one gentle little girl but none of them show any sign of indulging me. Let’s ring for coffee and sit comfortably. They can clear the table at the same time and leave us in peace. I know they’re only doing their job but they might smile once in a while.”

“They can’t.”
Mary’s dimples showed. “They’re part of a great conspiracy. Haven’t you noticed whichever hotel you go to, they’re the same. They follow you from hotel to hotel and creep up on you, hoping you’ll be talking State Secrets.”

It was Madge’s turn to peal with laughter. “I must tell Jem that. He’ll hoot.”

Once they were all sitting comfortably with their coffee, Madge turned to Mary.

“Let’s get down to your little problem, Mary. I’ve just one question for you first. Do you really love him?”

“Yes. I really do. I’ve never met another man I would consider marrying.”

“Then you just have to take the rough with the smooth. I went through much the same myself. My twin brother and I were what we used to call ‘genteel poor’ and I took Jo out to Austria because we couldn’t afford to live in England as much as anything. The school was never going to be more than a small affair but I worked my way up from that and then met Jem – believe me, marriage was the last thing on my mind at that point. After all, what did I need with a man – I was a successful woman in my own right.”
She laughed at the memory.

”Emotions are a funny thing. I fell head over heels in love, threw up everything I had achieved and, from running a successful school, I found myself being identified as just the wife of a TB Specialist. It was tough for a while

The children filled my life, of course – not just our own but sundry nieces and nephews. Ideally, we shouldn’t have had to bring them up but,”
she shrugged. “what can you do? Anyway, as far as the title is concerned, the people who matter will still love you and know you haven’t changed. As for the rest, Pooh! to them. If they can’t see past a title, they don’t deserve a second thought!”

“It’s partly because I’m new to all of this.”
Mary gestured to her surroundings. “The most we aspired to when I was a child was a week in a boarding house at the seaside and I only remember doing that a couple of times. I really don’t know how to behave and I’m quite scared of letting Julian down. I just don’t feel comfortable.”

“Does he know you feel like that?”

“About the hotels and all that, yes. I never thought of the title till Stacie explained it.”

“He’ll help you through it.”
Said Madge with certainty. “There’ll be times when you’ll hate feeling dependent on him but you’ll find as you go along that you will have strengths he needs and it will be his turn to lean on you. That’s what marriage is all about, you know. Pulling together, sometimes one towing the other and at other times it’s reversed.

Another thing to remember is that, if you feel that he deserves the recognition, it would be a bit mean to spoil if for him. Enjoy it for him if you can’t for yourself.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that. Especially that I shouldn’t spoil it for him.”

“Good for you. Remember, make sure he really understands the problem, if he’s been brought up with money, he won’t realise us ordinary folk find it hard to summon a waiter with a tiny hand gesture.”

“He does that instinctively.”
Laughed Mary. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn. He’s awfully rich, you know and it just seems so different to think of money like that. He’s just given a mansion to the National Trust.”

”Would you love him if he was poor?”

“Of course!”

“Then what’s the difference?”

“You will get there.”
Said Stacie with confidence. “I’ve seen you quell a crowd of boys with a glance. Waiters don’t stand a chance.”

*

On the Friday evening, they sat out on the terrace, sipping wine and making the most of their last evening together.

“I’ve had a great time. I’ve always wanted to see Oxford and going round with someone who knows it as well as you do has been the icing on the cake.”

“It’s my home and I love it. I don’t say I’ll never leave again but it is good to be back. I’m glad now that my parents’ house was sold. This is mine and I’ll gradually make it how I want it. Your idea of building bookcases into the back bedroom was a good one. I don’t need more than one spare bedroom and it would turn it into a lovely study, overlooking the garden - which also looks a lot better for your attention. I was a bit daunted till you came and blew away the cobwebs. It’s been fun planning it with you.”

“I’ll get Dorothy to take cuttings of that rose she had in her bouquet. Her mother says it flowers right through the summer if you dead head it. It would look really nice framing the terrace. I’m glad I met Lady Russell as well. She’s rather special isn’t she.”

“She is. I learnt something new when she was talking to you, you know.”

“What was that?”

“Marriage is a matter of leaning on one another but so is friendship. I’ve tended to be a bit too independent and I’ll try not to make that mistake again.”

#206:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 10:35 pm
    —
Thank you, Pat.Very Happy

Perfect engagement. Mr. Green

Loved the marbles analogy -- and the observations on marriage & friendship. It's nice to see Stacie getting on so well -- and Madge, for that matter.

I agree with Stacie that it's hard to alter what you've called someone as a kid, no matter how many times they tell you to. Still, Madge can be relieved to be Madame rather than Lady Russell!

#207:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 10:42 pm
    —
I do like it that we're gradually getting a better impression of more and more of the characters.

#208:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 10:47 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Madge and Mary got on so well. I still see some of my old teachers every now and again, and I never am completely sure what to call them!

#209:  Author: MLocation: Winchester PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 11:37 pm
    —
Really liked your Madge, had never thought what it would have felt like suddenly becoming Lady Russell. Great to see all the sub plots.

#210:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 8:35 am
    —
Madge was lovely there.

Thanks Pat.

#211:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 12:42 pm
    —
Lovely, thanks, Pat.

#212:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 10:31 am
    —
Wonderful Very Happy

Thanks, Pat

#213:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 2:58 pm
    —
Just caught up on loads - thank you Pat it's all wonderful!

#214:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 7:53 pm
    —
Mary would be home today.

Julian woke at three o’clock and found himself unable to get back to sleep.

Mary would be home today. He had written to her every day and received a card or letter in return. She hadn’t said anything about the future, just recounted the day’s events in her usual amusing way.

Mary would be home today. Come to that, he hadn’t said anything really profound either. What if she’d changed her mind? No, she would have said in a letter. She was too honest to leave it till he arrived in Oxford.

Mary would be home today. If he left early, he would see her all the sooner.
By half past four, he was tiptoeing down the path towards his car. He drove through the village before five and his passing was noted by the Thompsons.

“He’s off to fetch Mary. They make a lovely couple.”

“H’mm. I reckon we’ll have another wedding soon. I wonder if they’ll get married here. I should have thought Sir Julian would have wanted a big do in London.”


Mrs Thompson shook her head. “I don’t think so. He was never happy there. Anyway, young Mary would never stand for that. It’ll either be here or over at her Mum’s in Windermere.”

“I heard tell her mother gave up her house last year and moved in with her sister.”

“Well then, it will probably be here. I think I’ll start putting a bit of sugar and suchlike by, just in case.”


*

“I thought I heard the Hillman start up a while ago. Julian went really early. I’d have thought he would meet her in Leeds, instead of driving to Oxford and back.”

Dorothy turned over and yawned. “For goodness sake, Hugh! It’s only just half past six on a Saturday. Come back to bed.”

Hugh climbed back under the covers and she nestled her head on his shoulder. “What did you say just now?” she murmured, closing her eyes again.

“Julian’s gone already.”

“I expect he couldn’t wait.”

“You romantic, you!”
Hugh scoffed.

“Well you tell me why else he should insist on driving all the way to Oxford to fetch her.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m always right. Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Would you do anything for me?”

“Yes, darling.”

“Then go and make a pot of tea. I’m really thirsty.”

“Why do I always fall for that?”
Hugh grumbled, good naturedly, as he fished under the bed for his slippers. There was no reply and Dorothy’s eyes were closed and her breathing even.

Bestowing a light kiss on her cheek, he descended the stairs and, crossing the kitchen, opened the back door, stepped outside and took a deep breath. This was the best time of day. Everything sparkled in the early sunlight and the smell of freshly mown hay wafted from the field beyond the garden.

Hugh wandered down the path, his hands in his dressing gown pockets, Lord of All He Surveyed. He stopped to admire the plants, proud that he could name so many now. Flicked a greenfly off a rose. Bent to sniff a Pink.

Strolling to the very end of the garden, beyond the vegetables, he turned and eyed the spare ground thoughtfully. Albert was right. If he built a shed down here with it’s door towards the West, it would be a fine place to sit and even in bad weather there’d be a lovely view of the moors.

They needed somewhere to keep the tools anyway. The chicken coop would be fine behind the shed. In fact, it made sense to build them both at once.

He started pacing out the area he would need. Yes, plenty of room. There were even enough stone slabs left to make a floor. A potting bench for Dorothy on one side, plenty of shelves, hooks for the tools. It would need a window, perhaps looking over the fields. Beautiful! Who would be mad enough to live in a town when they could live somewhere like this. He set off back up the garden to the kitchen. He really must get that cup of tea up to Dorothy before she woke again.

Dorothy sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her. “There’s more in the pot.”

“I’m sorry. I opened the door and just had to go down to the bottom of the garden. It’s a lovely morning.”

“I saw you. You were planning your precious shed.”

“Well, we need somewhere to store the tools.”

“What about the chicken run?”

“Behind the shed. Plenty of room.”

“What about a floor?”

“Spare stone flags.”

“Build me a chicken run and you can have your shed.”


Hugh suddenly realised he was being teased and reached across the table.

“I love you.”

“Not good enough. You forgot my cup of tea.”

“I’ll bring you one tomorrow.”

“And toast?”

“If you like.”

“With poached egg?”

“Steady on! Tea and toast I can manage. Poached egg might be too much for this frail soul.”


*

Stacie heard Mary moving around and smiled. Poor Mary! She’d been in such a stew last night.

She slipped out of bed and donned her dressing gown. “It’s all right Mary. I’m already awake.” She called as she emerged on the landing. “I’ll go down and put the kettle on.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Mary appeared at her bedroom door, similarly clad.

“No. I’ve been reading a while.”

“I’ll finish packing then and follow you down.”


Stacie put the kettle on, opened the back door and stuck her head out. Yes, it was a lovely morning, too nice to be indoors. They could take their tea out onto the terrace. By the time Mary came into the kitchen, the tray was ready and the kettle turned down to simmer, ready to pour on the pot.

“I like the way this is so sheltered and private It means the neighbours can’t see you and the glass roof means you can even have the French Doors open in the rain.”

“I sit in the dining room more often than the parlour. It’s nice to have the doors open.”

“Why not swap them, then. I don’t think there’s a law that says the parlour has to be at the front.”


Stacie looked dumbfounded. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because I’m naturally brilliant and you’re not?”

“Ouch! That was a low blow!”


They both giggled. “It’s been lovely having you here, my first visitor! It’s made the house seem more like home and it’s been fun planning things together. With Dorothy and Hugh coming to stay at half term, I think I’ll get someone in to paint right through straight away and get everything ship shape.

I was upset when my Aunt insisted my parents house should be sold but, looking back, she was right. It was far too big and in such a bad state. Funny how you don’t notice that sort of thing when you’re a child. I don’t think it had any repairs for years. That sort of thing wasn’t top of the list when it came to priorities for either of my parents! If a rare book came up at auction, that’s where the money went.”

“What happened to their books? You’ve got more here than I’d have believed possible to fit in one house, even if most of them are still in boxes, but I suppose they had a lot more?”


Stacie nodded. “Fortunately, Aunt Marjorie had the sense to get them stored instead of selling them off. I had them catalogued a while back and chose the ones I wanted most. The majority of the rest went to the Bodleian just a few weeks ago.”

“I should think they were pleased.”

“Up to a point. I saw my lawyer first and he tied them up in knots. They’re a loan, for as long as I stay at the University. That means they can’t get rid of me so easily if I ruffle feathers. He insisted I made my will at the same time and I’ve bequeathed them to the Bodleian anyway – though they don’t know that.”

“Sounds rather a cut throat world, academia! It sounds a good idea not to tell them. Some avaricious Librarian might trip you down the stairs.”


Stacie laughed. “He’s town and they’re gown and that rivalry goes deep, so he took great delight in the whole arrangement. It’s like anywhere else, I suppose. I’m here because I really do want to carry on studying and I’m by no means the only one, but the majority are here for a career and that means climbing the promotion ladder – mind you, if I was a man with a family to maintain and no private means, I might well feel differently.”

“Status again. Why didn’t you lend all of them?”

“Because my lawyer advised me to keep the most valuable ones as an investment. Shares can be chancy and that’s where most of my money is tied up. As he pointed out, I may need the money later and in the meantime it will keep the University hopping in the hope they will get the rest.”

“Well you’ve opened my eyes.”

“Think about it though. If everyone here just concentrated on research, as I intend to do, there’d be no one to manage the day to day running of the Colleges. We have to have people willing to take that on – I just happen to be lucky enough that I can choose. Money isn’t evil, Mary. It’s the way it is used.”

“I think you’ve been giving me a course in coping with money!”
Mary said in mock indignation.

“You’re going to need it.” Stacie was serious. “Julian is a good man and I’m sure he won’t mean to, but there will be times when you will be shocked by his attitude towards money. He’s bound to think on a different scale from most people. ”

“I’m having difficulties already. Honestly, Stacie, I’m a bit scared right now.”

“Just remember that it’s what you do with it! Enjoy it as I’m doing, even though I’m hardly in that league!”


She hesitated for a moment and then went on a little diffidently. “I’ve not told anyone else this and I wouldn’t tell you now but it might help. I put a couple of Father’s most valuable books up for auction. They were bought by wealthy collectors and I sent the money to a refugee charity, anonymously, through my Lawyer. I’ve never felt so good in my life, knowing that I was actually able to help other people. It may just be a sop to my conscience to make up for having more than most people but it was still something I couldn’t do without having the money in the first place.”

“I’ll think about what you’ve said and, thank you. I think Julian and I have a lot of talking to do.”

“Speaking of whom,”
Stacie stood up. “I’m willing to bet he’ll be here before ten and I suppose we ought to be dressed and ready.”

“I suppose we’d better. Oh, Stacie! Thank you so much.”

“We’re friends, Mary, and I hope we stay friends.”

“Friends always.”
Mary hugged Stacie tightly. “I’m so glad you came to Polgarth.”

*

Jo struggled awake as a small figure climbed into bed with her. Mike had been restless in the night and she really wasn’t ready to wake up yet.

“Len? Are you all right?”

She felt her daughter’s forehead but it was cool.

“What’s the matter?”

“I was awake and Con and Margot are still asleep.”

“What woke you?”

“I was thinking.”
Replied Len with all the dignity of her nearly seven years as she was now claiming her age to be.

“Nice thoughts?”

“Why hasn’t Reg come to see us this summer? Doesn’t he love us anymore?”


Jo put her arm round Len and kissed the top of her head.

“He went on holiday with a friend from school. You remember Christopher who stayed with us when Reg brought the kites?”

“Yes. I liked him then but I don’t any more if Reg wanted to go with him instead of with us.”


Jo was wide awake now and put her finger to her lips. “Quiet now or you’ll wake Papa. Let’s go downstairs and we can talk about it.”

“Now. Tell me again.”
Said Jo, as she tried to sit Len on her knee.

“No! I don’t need a cuddle. I want to talk.”

Jo looked at her in surprise. “All right. Sit next to me and tell me.”

“Why did Reg go off with that horrid Christopher? The holiday wasn’t nearly as nice without him.”

“Reg has other friends as well as us.”
Said Jo, picking her words carefully. “What about Mary-Lou? She’s your friend now and you wouldn’t want Reg to hate her, would you?”

“No, but I wouldn’t want him to like her better than me – I mean us.”
She amended hurriedly.

“It’s not a matter of liking one friend better than another, sweetie. You can have lots of friends and like them all the same.”

“I’d really rather he liked me best.”
Said Len, sadly.

Jo thought rapidly for an example Len would understand.

“It’s like me and Auntie Rob. We’ve been almost like sisters since she was tiny. Now she’s gone away to do something she wants to do. Do you think she doesn’t love me anymore?”

“No, course not.”

“And what do you think she would have felt if I’d tried to stop her going?”

“I ‘spect she’d have been cross ‘cos she couldn’t do what she wanted.”

“And she might have done it anyway and never come back because we were so cross with one another, so I had to smile and pretend I didn’t mind. It’s the same with Reg. We have to let people do what they want and they will come back. We all have lots of friends. Who do you think are Papa’s friends?”

“Well, there’s Uncle Jem, I s’pse and Uncle Frank and then there’s Uncle Gottfried and that man from Oxford who comes to see him, I can’t remember his name, and Mr Wilkinson and …. there’s the Commodore as well and, oh, he’s got lots of friends. “

“But he still loves us, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the same with Reg. You can’t stop him doing other things or he’ll be really upset. He’ll always come back, though.”

“I think I’m ready for a cuddle now.”


Jo gathered her daughter into her arms and held her close.

“Mamma?”

“Yes, Len.”

“When will I be as old as Reg?”

“He’s fifteen so about nine years and you’ll be fifteen.”

“No. I mean how long till I catch up with him.”

“Well you can’t exactly catch up because he’s getting older as well but when you’re both grown up it won’t matter any more, the gap gets smaller. When you were three, he was four times as old as you but now he’s only about two and a half times as old.

“So when I’m a hundred, I’ll be older than him. Anna says if I eat all my porridge, I’ll get to be a big girl. I’ll go and see if it’s ready yet.”


Jumping down, Len ran from the room and Jo leaned back, exhausted. She looked at the clock and saw that it was not yet half past seven. She reviewed the conversation in her mind and decided she couldn’t have handled it better, given that she had no warning. Funny little puss she was.


*

“Don’t fuss Ma! We’ll be fine. I’ll post the card from Leeds Station.”

“Don’t worry Mrs Hanson. We’ll be all right. There’s no changes and Auntie is meeting us in Leeds. Thank you for a lovely holiday. It’s been great.”


The guard blew his whistle and Rachel stepped back from the train.

As the train pulled out, the two boys waved frantically and then returned to their seats.

“She’s not usually like that.” Chris said. “I can’t think what’s got into her.”

“I suppose it’s different with you going on holiday away from her.”

“I suppose so. She never makes a fuss when I go off to school.”


After driving along the coast, calling at Cley-next-the-Sea to visit a windmill, then on to Cromer where Reg had his first taste of crab, they struck inland, visiting Norwich and spending a night on the outskirts of Ely before arriving at the Hanson’s little house in Cambridge.

It had been fun and Reg had seen some birds that he had never seen before but it hadn’t been the same without Gay and Jacynth. Chris and Reg had sent postcards from each place they stayed and, when they arrived in Cambridge, they found letters from the girls.

Reg had loved Cambridge. Chris’s parents took them round all the colleges and they walked along the river to see the colleges from the backs. One evening, they went to an organ recital in Kings College Chapel and Reg was thrilled with the music and the beautiful building. The highlight was a visit to the Sedgwick Museum, where they pored over fossils and ancient artefacts for over three hours.

Now they were on their way back to Garnham and two weeks more holidays.

*

Reg would be home today. Auntie was up even earlier than usual. She hadn’t slept well and, although she would never have admitted it, her restless night had been caused by anticipation of his return. It was the first time he had been away in the summer holidays without her, except with the Maynards last year – and then she had been there part of the time.

Reg would be home today. She went down the garden to feed the pig and the chickens and fetch the eggs. Returning to the house she checked the time. It was only seven o’clock. Four hours before the bus to Garnley was due.

Reg would be home today. Christopher seemed a nice boy but, whatever Mrs Hanson might say, he would be used to something better than a village cottage. After all his Dad was a Doctor, not a real one like Doctor Maynard, but a clever man just the same.

Reg would be home today. She’d just check the bedroom. Miss Armitage’s little truckle bed should be big enough for Christopher but it didn’t really leave much room even though she’d taken the little table and chair out of the bedroom.

He’d be grown up a little more. Moved further beyond Garnham. She wondered how long it would be before he would leave forever.

Reg would be home today.

#215:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 8:23 pm
    —
Such a wonderful sense of anticipation. I can just imagine Julian deciding to get up and drive down early.

I love the way the village has already decided about the wedding. It's a fait accompli when Mrs Thompson starts saving sugar for the cake.

#216:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 8:54 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. Everyone was especially lovely in that update.

#217:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 9:32 pm
    —
That was so lovely, seeing all those little snippets - some useful advice there both from Stacie and from Joey. Love the anticipation.

Thanks Pat.

#218:  Author: AlexLocation: Cambs, UK PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 9:39 pm
    —
Thanks Pat. I have spent many happy hours in the Sedgewick museum and there used to be fossil casts lying around all over the house that we made there. I'm glad Reg and Chris liked it too.

(I wonder what Auntie would say if anyone told her that it was Dr Maynard who wasn't a real doctor!?! )

#219:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 12:23 am
    —
I somehow managed to miss a post so two to catch up on! Mary and Stacie are so very good for one another - and it was fun to see Madge and hear her views on Jem's baronetcy. And Stacie's comments on the academic world are wickedly accurate.....

And it was delightful seeing all that anticipation, especially Auntie's with that underlying "Reg would be home today." to which she constantly returns.

#220:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 9:21 am
    —
Lovely, thank you Pat!

#221:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 3:30 pm
    —
Phew - just had another huge catch up!

Lovely to see Madge's little insights into her life with Jem and the family . Hugh and Dorothy are so sweet together. Glad Mary has Stacie to talk to - and vice versa.

And bless Len - but poor Joey having that landed on her so early in the morning!

*hugs* Auntie - she must have missed Reg like mad.

thanks Pat

#222:  Author: RayLocation: Bristol, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 7:03 pm
    —
Love that last part, Pat Smile Particularly the little scene with Len (though poor Joey for having to handle it so early in the morning!) and especially the opening scene with the Thompsons preparing for another wedding Smile

Also love the symmetry of the first and last parts Smile

Ray *eager for more as always*

#223:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 8:29 pm
    —
The two boys settled back in their seats as the train pulled out of Kings Cross and Reg looked out of the window with interest.

“It’s funny I never think of all the rest of you doing this bit of the journey to school. You just sort of appear at Leeds.”

“As if we’ve been in limbo for the whole holidays.”


Reg chuckled. “Well for all I know, you could have spent the whole time on the train stuck in a tunnel.”

“We’d have been sure to tell you if we had.”

“I suppose you would. I didn’t quite mean that. It’s just that I’d never thought of the rest of the journey – except for Dixon, of course! He does go on so about the journey down to Plymouth! I forget you’ve got longer journeys than me.”

“When we first moved to Cambridge last year, Ma took me to Peterborough and I joined the train there. It should be quicker but the train was late and we hung about on Peterborough Station for ages and she missed her return train and had to wait for another hour. At least at King’s Cross it’s where the train starts and she can leave me with whoever is on escort duty and get her train home again.”

“London seems to go on forever. It’s not what I expected.”
Reg was looking out at the endless factories and the backs of terraced houses.

“It’s only interesting in the middle. Once you get to the edges, it’s just like any other city.”

“’Cept it’s bigger. What’s that?”

“Highbury. Arsenal Football Ground. I know because Johnson always goes on about it ‘cos he supports them.”

“I shouldn’t think there’s anyone in the school doesn’t know that. Is there anything else interesting to watch for.”

“Alexandra Palace. Where they make television programmes.”

“Really? Have you ever seen television?”

“Not likely! It only works in London. Look out on the left in a bit. We’ll have to go out into the corridor to see it. It’s right up on a hill and you can’t miss it. Good job we got a compartment to ourselves. Come on.”

“I see it. It’s big isn’t it and I suppose that tower is where they send it from. Do you think we’ll ever be able to see television in Yorkshire?”

“I shouldn’t think so. Even if we could, the receiver thingummies are jolly expensive. I can’t see the school buying one.”


The buildings gradually came to an end and fields and woods replaced them, punctuated by the occasional village. Another town appeared and Chris began looking out of the window again.

“Look, there’s the Shredded Wheat Factory.”

“It looks just like it does on the packet with the railway siding and everything. I’d never thought of the picture being a real place.”


They settled back into their seats as the train picked up speed.

“Tell me about Garnham, Reg. I know it’s a village and in the country but what’s it really like.”

“There’s not a lot to tell. It’s really tiny. There are more people living on the farms than in the village itself. There’s only one shop right in the middle and there’s a church – that’s really old – and a small school. It’s in a valley so whichever way you go out of it is uphill. There’s fewer people now than when I came to live there. A lot of the young people went off to the war and some of them didn’t come back.”

“Where do the men work?”

“On the farms, ‘cept for a few that have jobs in Garnley. Cattle down in the valley and sheep on the hills. There’s no crops, apart from hay of course, because we’re so high up. Most families have lived there forever. There are graves of Auntie’s family in the Churchyard going back hundreds of years.

There’s a few people moved in. Miss Armitage came about thirty years ago with her parents when her father was ill and had to move out of Leeds because of the smoke. She stayed when they died. I feel a bit sorry for her because she’s clever and must have gone to a good school because she was training to be a nurse so I sometimes wonder if she’s lonely. There’s only the Vicar who reads books and things. People send for her when anyone has an accident or is ill.”

“I suppose they can’t afford a Doctor.”


Reg nodded. “The nearest doctor is over in Garnley so if someone’s bleeding, he’d get there a bit late to do any good anyway. It was worse before there was a phone box. When Phoebe was ill, Uncle Jack had to borrow a horse and ride into Garnley for medicine in the middle of the night.

The Vicarage got a phone soon after that but no one was going to risk running into the Sodger!”

“The Sodger?”

“She’s the Vicar’s wife. He’s all right but she’s just awful. If you see me dive in a ditch, be sure to follow ‘cos it probably means I’ve seen her coming.”

“I’ll remember. Try not to choose one with nettles in.”

“Believe me, nettles are better than the Sodger.

We live up the hill on the way to the High Moors. We’re the last cottage as you go out of the village. Most people are really poor but they’ve nearly all got enough ground to grow their own vegetables and keep some chickens. A few, like us, have a pig as well and people send peelings and such like to anyone who has one and get some meat when the young pigs go to market ‘cos we always have a couple killed for us. They’re mostly nice people and they do help one another a lot.

When Phoebe lived there, that’s Mrs Peters now, she lived right out of the village and Debbie often found a few eggs or a jar of jam on the doorstep when she got up in the morning.”

“I wish we’d stayed in one place. I know we couldn’t because Pa kept moving round wherever he was sent during the War but it meant we were always strangers and we never got to know people. Ma used to worry about me going out to play because she didn’t know enough about the neighbours and we were always in towns. That’s why I never made any friends in the holidays.”

“It’s not like that here. I’ve been going off on my own since I was quite small. Everybody knows everyone and you’ll get a clip round the ears from any adult if you’re caught up to mischief. You’ve got to be careful on the Moors but that’s just things like the weather and making sure you don’t fall down and break something.”

“We’ll go up on the moors, won’t we? You said they’re different from the ones at school. And will we get to see a farm?”

“If the weather holds, we’ll be out everyday and we’ll go and see Joe up at High Royd. I’ve told you about him. We’ll go and fly kites on his day off, if the wind’s right of course, and he’ll show you round the farm. Mrs Ormerod makes really good cakes as well.”


There was silence for a while and Chris picked up the latest Boys Own Paper, bought at W H Smith for the journey and Reg started on ‘The Gay Dolphin Adventure’ which he had borrowed from Chris.

From time to time, the train pulled into a station and looked up to see where they were. When they reached Newark, Chris suggested that they should eat their packed lunch as they were about half way.

As they ate, talk turned to the time in Hunstanton with Gay and Jacynth.

“It was good fun. I always thought girls would be cissies but they weren’t.”

“Don’t you know any girls?”


Chris sighed. “I’ve told you I don’t have any friends out of school – and how would I get to know any there?”

“All right, keep your shirt on. I thought you might have at least met some through your parents’ friends or something.”

“None any where near my age. Ma’s ever so old. She was thirty five when I was born and all their friends either don’t have children or they’re grown up.”

“I’ve met a few through the Maynards; their family is a positive tribe with cousins all over the place – I can’t sort them all out. You know, I was really jealous of them having such a big family but I’m not so sure after seeing the problems they have sometimes.”

“Like Gay and me.”
Said Chris. “Perhaps it’s another sign that we’re related.”

“Well if you’re not then your father isn’t your father, if you see what I mean.”

“She said something nice the last morning. She called me cousin. I’ve never had one before and I do hope it’s true.”

“What about your father’s brother?”

“He never married and, before you ask, Ma’s an only so there aren’t any in her family either.”

“Neither have I.”

“What about your father’s family? You said you didn’t know and there might be hordes just waiting to be found.”

“No. I’m not going to upset Auntie by asking – and don’t you dare either!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. What about Jacynth? You got on really well with her.”


Reg buried his face in his cup, feeling it burn.

“We found we had a lot in common. She hasn’t even got an Auntie now.”

“And the dodgems! I’ve never seen you laugh so much and she didn’t seem the type to scream like that, if you know what I mean.”

“I dunno. It was just fun. How near are we to Leeds now?”
Reg wanted that conversation stopped right there. How he felt about Jacynth wasn’t for sharing – not even with Chris – after all, he wasn’t that sure he understood it himself. He’d need time on his own to think about it.

“That was Retford we just went through so I think about another hour.”

“How do you know when you’re close to Leeds? We want to be sure to be ready to get off.”

“That’s easy. We always stop at Wakefield and that’s not far from Leeds so if we get our things together then, we’ll be in plenty of time.”

“If you’re sure, I’m going to read. This book’s jolly good.”


*

The train pulled into Leeds Station and Reg was already hanging out of the window looking for Auntie. Almost before the train had stopped, he leapt out and Chris handed out the two cases, two bags of assorted things which wouldn’t fit into the cases and two kites, fortunately dismantled and in their sturdy canvas cases.

Auntie was hurrying towards them but Reg couldn’t wait and rushed across to hug her leaving Chris surrounded by luggage.

“Reg. That’s very rude to leave Christopher like that.” She scolded, though she smiled as she spoke.

“Sorry Chris. I forgot you for a moment.”

“That’s all right. Hello Auntie. I’ve brought him back safe, you see.”

“And has he been a good boy?”
Auntie teased.

“On the whole. I’ve had my work cut out, though.” Chris managed to look pathetic and worldly wise all at once and both Auntie and Reg laughed at him.

“Let’s get across to our platform then. Can you manage all that lot?”

“I just need to post this card. It’s to tell Ma we’ve arrived safely. You’d think we were off to the North Pole instead of Leeds.”

“You post it then and put her mind at rest. Reg, you know where the post box is so go with him. I’ll wait here with the luggage.”


The two boys ran off, dodging the passengers intent on catching their trains and Auntie watched them and sighed in relief. At least he was still glad to come home, even though he’d travelled to new places.

*

Once they were settled on the little train to Garnley, they both started talking at once, telling her of their adventures. Reg had sent post cards but they didn’t say much except that he was having a good time. She expressed due amazement at what they had been up to and listened to Chris’s tale of his meeting with Gay and their subsequent attempts to find the relationship with interest.

“How strange. And this Jacynth is not related?”

Reg shook his head. “No. She’s been an orphan all her life and her Auntie died a few years ago so she’s got no one. She lives mostly with Gay and her brother’s wife – at least I think that’s what Mrs Lambert is - in the holidays and they’re at school together. She plays the ‘cello and she played some music for me one day. I’m sure she’s as good as Phoebe’s father was.”

“Jacynth is really quiet most of the time but she and Reg got addicted to the dodgems and you could hear them at the other end of the Promenade.”

“Dodgems? Like they have at the Fair in Garnley at Whitsun.”

“I expect so. We weren’t here at Whitsun and they didn’t have it during the War. I don’t remember them at the Polgarth Fair either.”

“You’re right, I’d forgotten that. Your Uncle Bert and I used to go every year.”

“Did you like the dodgems, Auntie?”
Chris asked, finding it difficult to imagine this old lady being young enough to go to fairs.

“I liked the Big Wheel best and I think there’s a snap of me on it, somewhere in a box.. You’ve shortened your name to Chris. Christopher is a bit long for every day but what did your mother think.”

“She doesn’t mind – at least not a lot. She just gets all motherly about me growing up and it just seems like one more thing.”


Reg smiled at her affectionately. “Just like you really. Sometimes when I come home, you look at me so hard, I think you’re looking for grey hairs.”

“Cheeky boy! I’m just checking you’ve still got two arms and two legs, the things you get up to.”

“Aww! I’m not that bad. I haven’t had an adventure for years – at least not one that left a scar.”


They left the train at Garnley and hurried out to catch the bus on to Garnham.

“Not long now.” Said Auntie encouragingly as Chris asked how far it was to Garnham. “It’s only about eight miles.”

“I’m not tired. I just wondered.”

“You’ll be glad of a drink though and, if you’re much like Reg you’ll be hungry.”

“He’s got those hollow legs to fill up. Nobody knows where my food goes. Ma says its one of the mysteries of the universe.”


They got off the bus at Garnham and Chris looked round. “It’s just like you described it. There’s something missing though.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Something in the street. I can’t think what it is.”

“Come on then. We go up this way.”


They walked up the hill to the cottage, passing a few people who each welcomed Reg home and were introduced to Chris.

Chris sighed. “This is nicer than a town. No one ever says hello, much less knows your name in a town.”

“It has its problems. They also know all your business, or think they do. The rumours that went round when I was going to Polgarth would make your hair stand on end.”

“A bit like Polgarth village, then. You can’t sneeze in the village without a starting a rumour that pneumonia’s going round the school.”


Auntie pushed open the front door and they went inside.

“Another difference.” Said Chris. “You didn’t even leave your door locked.”

“Most times I do because we use the back door and I never lock that.. I’d been sweeping the front step and I left it upstairs in my apron pocket so I didn’t bother. Now you go and put those kites in the shed and take your things upstairs. Be quick now. Joe’s mum was splitting a ginger beer plant and she gave me some so you’ve all the ginger beer you can drink. Oh, and you’ve had a few postcards from your friends at school and two letters, Reg.”


Reg fetched the little pile from the mantelpiece. “Dixon – same card as you got, Chris. The triplets – from Cornwall. Copley – he and his Dad are in Wales –same picture as yours, Chris. One letter is from Phoebe and the other, “ he paused to tear open the envelope. “From Jacynth and Gay – it’s to both of us and they’ve both written parts of it. We’d better save that to read later. We’re cluttering up the room with our junk.”

#224:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 12:30 am
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad they've arrived safely.

#225:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 3:54 am
    —
What a lovely conversation - I loved the bit about them spending the holidays on the tunnel...and the improbability of television!

I wonder what Chris is missing in the village?

Thanks Pat.

#226:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 1:27 pm
    —
Street lights, that's what he's missing.

Another wonderful episode, Patmac. I hope this never ends.

Ducks down behind desk.

#227:  Author: EilidhLocation: Macclesfield PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 2:47 pm
    —
Jennie wrote:
Street lights, that's what he's missing.


Never even thought of that! That makes sense now.

Thanks Pat - lovely as always.

#228:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 6:01 pm
    —
Jennie wrote:
Street lights, that's what he's missing.


I might have known you'd guess straight away, Jenny Wink


“He’s here!” The doorbell rang and Mary clutched Stacie’s hand. “What if he’s changed his mind?”

“Don’t be such a moke! Go on, answer the door before he thinks you’ve changed your mind. I’m going down the garden till you’ve got over the first raptures.”


Gently pushing Mary towards the hall, Stacie slipped out of the French Windows and, picking up a pair of secateurs from the table on the terrace, set off down the garden to cut back the Forsythia.

Mary opened the front door and, for a moment, there was silence, then she reached out and pulled him into the hall, kicking the door to with her foot as his arms went round her.

“I’ve missed you.” They said in unison and laughed.

“Why did you drag me in like that?”

“Stacie’s got to live here, you know. I wouldn’t want to sully her reputation by leaping on a man on her doorstep.”

“I didn’t think of that. Where is she by the way?”

“She went down the garden – in her words ‘till we got over the first raptures’.”

“Bless the girl! Are you all packed?”


Mary indicated her case and two bags which bulged with books. “Since about seven. I woke horribly early and we were sitting outside drinking tea by half past. Stacie predicted you’d be early.”

“I left at half past four as I woke early as well. Lets take our leave of Stacie and get off. If you don’t want anyone to know yet at Polgarth, it will be difficult to get time together to talk without causing gossip.”

“I don’t think we can keep it a secret long anyway. It would seem sordid to creep off to meet. Besides, Dorothy is too clever not to guess. Stacie wasn’t in the least surprised.”

“Stacie saw me look at you at her leaving party and suggested you might not actually be offended if I spoke. Let’s set off then and stop somewhere on the way.”


Mary called to Stacie and she hurried up the garden. “So he’s not changed his mind then.” She quipped to Mary as she held her hand out to Julian. “I should think you’ll want to get right off. You’ve got a lot of sorting out to do before you announce this at Polgarth.”

“Oh, Stacie. Thank you for everything.”
Mary stood on tiptoe to hug her taller friend and kissed her cheek. “I’ll write.”

“You’d better or I’ll be up there to find out what is going on. Goodbye for now Julian. Take care of her.”

“We’ll take care of one another, never fear. Thank you for everything, Stacie.”
Julian kissed Stacie on the cheek and squeezed her shoulder.

Soon they were on the road out of Headington and heading for Bicester.

“I forgot you were at Oxford and wondered how you knew your way round so well.”

“I’m surprised I still remember. I didn’t drive in those days and got around on a bike. It’s not changed much round Headington, though other parts have. I’ve missed you so much this last week.”

“I’ve missed you as well. Everything I saw, I thought ‘I must tell Julian’. You know we met Lady Russell, Stacie’s old Head Mistress.”

“Yes and about the ginger beer. Such heresy when presented with a wine list!”

“She was just so natural about it. You didn’t tell me I had to be Lady Roper.”

“It never occurred to me. I just assumed you’d realised. Does it bother you a lot?”

“Not really, once I got over the shock. It does seem a bit weird though. Julian, am I going to have to give up teaching?”


Julian immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. He took her hands in his and looked her in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been wondering what the reaction would be to a Governor being married to someone on the staff. I don’t want you to have to give it up but we have to be prepared for some opposition – more likely from some of the other older Governors, than John or Eric. Given that I’m the most active Governor and none of the others want to get as involved, I should be able to push it through. If John or Eric aren’t happy though, we’d have to respect that.”

“We’ll have to see. I really don’t think it would be good for the school if we caused a split among the Governors. If I can, I’d like to keep on until we have children, of course. Then it will be different, at least till they go to school. I told you I’d not like being a lady of leisure and it’s true.”

“We need to talk through a lot of things. For a start, we’re not formally engaged yet. We’ve got to choose a ring and go and see your mother. She might disapprove.”

“That’s not likely. She’ll be a bit flustered at the title business but I can’t see her disliking you. I don’t think you need to tell her just how rich you are, though. As for Auntie Ethel!”
she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be one in the eye for Auntie Ethel”

“You will, indeed!”

“Do you want a long engagement?”


Mary shook her head. “I’m twenty seven and time is marching on if we’re to have a family. Besides, I don’t think I could stand it. Will we live at the cottage?”

“Now you’re ahead of me! Another thing on the endless list to discuss.”

“Nice though. Planning the future with you is exciting.”


Julian kissed her hand and started the car again. “Let’s drive on till lunchtime and then find somewhere to stop and talk. You’d better start making notes of all the things we need to sort out.”

Mary laughed. “I’ve already started a list, believe it or not. Things kept occurring to me all week and I was afraid I’d forget.”

“Bless your practical soul. I’ve been thinking of things as well but I never thought to write them down.”

“Do you mind talking while you drive.”

“So long as we keep it to practical things. If I get distracted by how much I love you, we might end up in a ditch.”


They passed through Bicester, then along a straight stretch of Roman Road before turning for Buckingham and on to Bletchley. Here they turned north and by the time they had driven through the narrow streets of Wellingborough, it was twelve o’clock and Julian suggested they should head towards Stamford for lunch. “We could stop at The George. They have a couple of private dining rooms and we could talk in comfort.”

“It depends on what the waiters are like.”


Julian chuckled. “I think we’ve thrown them off the scent. The George is not like that at all.”

It was one o’clock when they pulled up outside The George. “It’s an old coaching inn.” He explained as they walked towards the door. “I stopped here with Mercy a few times during the war and she’d vouch for the food if she was here.”

“So that’s how you know they have private rooms.”


Julian nodded. “There would have been raised eyebrows if we’d shared a table in the main dining room. Eating with one’s driver was just not done! We didn’t want to draw any attention to ourselves either so we used to arrange to slip in through the back door.”

“Careless talk costs lives.”

“It wasn’t a bad slogan. Not everyone over here was careful and some were downright antagonistic, especially once the Russians came in on our side. Anyone turning up with an Army driver would be bound to cause comment.”


Julian spoke to the receptionist and they were shown to a small and shabby, though comfortable, dining room, their drinks orders were taken and they were left with the menu.

“I can recommend the Lincolnshire sausages which was Mercy’s favourite and also the game pie which I had whenever they had it on the menu.”

“Sausage and mash sounds good.”


Julian’s beer and Mary’s lemonade arrived and they gave their orders.

“What’s top of the list?”

“This.”
Replied Mary, leaving her seat to come round the table and kiss him.

“Glad to see you have your priorities right, darling.” Said Julian when they were sitting again, holding hands across the table.

“Well, so long as we don’t forget that, the rest will fall into place.”

Over a long lunch, finished off by a good pot of strong tea, they worked to plan, at least in the short term, how they would go about their new life. Top of the list of priorities was to talk to Eric and John. If they had reservations about one of their staff being engaged, let alone married, to a Governor, then they would not get formally engaged till Christmas, giving time for John to replace Mary, and then get married almost immediately in the New Year. Then Julian would write to the Governors, and they would have to await developments on that front.

The cottage would be their first home while Julian decided what he would do next. He was hoping he could find a purpose in life which would not take him away from Polgarth and was still toying with the idea of writing.

“So, we see John and Eric tomorrow and go over to see Mum the day after. We won’t be able to stay with Mum, as Aunt Ethel only has one spare bedroom.”

“If Eric and John are happy about you carrying on teaching we could go into Leeds and choose a ring and then stay at a hotel in Windermere and you could show me your old haunts?”

“I’d like that, but if we do, we’ll have to tell Dorothy and Hugh first. They’ll guess something’s up if we flit off to Windermere to see Mum.”

“I’d like to tell them anyway. Then we can be a real couple when we’re with them.”

“Good idea.”

“I ought to tell Gertrude as well. She’s been such a good friend. There’s one other thing we’ve just got to discuss and we’ve been carefully avoiding it.”


Mary flushed. “I know. Your dratted money. Let’s go for a walk. I might find it less daunting.”

Once Julian had paid for the meal and they were walking along the street, Mary slipped her hand into Julian’s.

“I think I’ll find it easier if we’re touching.”

He squeezed her hand. “Is it that bad?”

“Probably not, though the sheer amount is scary.”
She admitted. “It’s just that I’ve always been independent and I won’t be.”

“You wouldn’t be whoever you married once you left work to have children.”
Julian said, reasonably.

“I know, but it’s not going to be the same. Take Dorothy and Hugh. They saved up together and they split all their expenses even now. Whatever I put in will just be a drop in the ocean and not worth bothering with. They’ve both worked for everything and Dorothy feels she’s really a partner in the financial sense. I don’t think I shall.

Then there’s the wedding. I know Dorothy was given the material for her dress but it was made by a friend, her mother grew the flowers for her bouquet and Mrs Thompson made the cake. Although it turned into a big wedding, that’s because everyone else wanted it and worked to give them a surprise. It was all friends who were there.

I don’t really want a big posh wedding with caterers and florists and having a gown made at a big shop. It’s too impersonal.”

“Why should we?”
said Julian stopping suddenly in surprise. “I’d want us to contribute towards it because we can but I’d never thought of being married anywhere except at your home in Windermere or at Polgarth, like Hugh and Dorothy.”

“Really?”

“Mary. Listen to me. I’ve no friends except at Polgarth. If I didn’t have those, I wouldn’t have anyone to invite to a wedding! As for the money, don’t forget, I didn’t earn the bulk of it either so I feel a bit the same. I wasn’t even meant to have it if either of my brothers had lived.

I’m not going to suggest it isn’t nice to have enough to do what we want but it’s only worth what it can buy, as I said before. I don’t think I’m that extravagant at home, am I?”

“No, in fact it’s time you got rid of that old jacket with the tear across the back.”

“What! My favourite jacket? That’s got years of wear in it.”


Mary giggled and hugged his arm. “I knew you’d rise. Seriously though, what will you do with all that money if we stay in Polgarth? Even if neither of us worked, you couldn’t spend it all.”

“You should say what will we do with all the money. Once we’re married it’s not just mine you know. I’d like us to do some travelling at some point. A bit like Miss Gregory and Miss Snaith did before the war. Wherever I’ve been, I’ve been ‘on duty’ and I’ve never really had a chance to wander off and get to know the real people. If we’re going to have a family, it would have to be after they’re grown up.”

“I’d like that. I don’t think we have to wait for them to grow up anyway. It would give them a better view of the world if they travelled while they’re young. They’d need real holidays for them as well, of course. The seaside and things like that.”

“Good idea. I presume you wouldn’t object to spending money on making travel comfortable. Things like travelling first class would make a lot of difference to a long journey with children.”

“I might stretch a point at that. Mind you, our children may be the exception to the rule and never grizzle or have snotty noses.”

“Unlikely. They’re more likely to be sliding down bannisters in hotels and we’ll have to spend most of our money paying for damages! I’d also like to use some of it to do some good as well. I’m not sure I want to give much to any of the big charities. There’s too much political infighting and I’m not sure all of it gets where is should. I don’t know what yet, but that would have to be a joint venture anyway.”

“I’d like to do that, provided we can find a way that doesn’t make it showing off. Lady Roper, I suppose I’ll get used to but not Lady Bountiful. It would be nice to find a way to use the money to do something rather than just give it away. With a fortune like that, writing cheques sounds like too easy a way out of salving our consciences.

“I’d like that too. It would be more satisfying.”

“I feel a lot better now.”

“Good, will your finer instincts be offended if I take you into a rather nice bookshop along here.”

“If they are, I’ll suppress them. Lead the way.”


*

As they drove through the village at half past seven in the evening, their progress was noted and speculation was rife the next morning. They went to see John and Eric, who couldn’t see a problem with Mary carrying on teaching and seemed unnervingly unsurprised at their news and then invited Dorothy and Hugh round for a drink that evening and broke the news to them.

Dorothy kissed Mary and hugged Julian. “Wonderful! I hope you’ll be as happy as we are.”

“You sound as if you guessed.”

“I did. Hugh just thought I was being romantic.”

“I was the one who noticed Julian had set off at an ungodly hour to fetch you Are you suggesting I’m not romantic, Mrs Douglas?”

“You have your moments. Will you go on teaching, Mary?”

“Certainly till we get married. After that, if the Governors agree, I’ll carry on but we don’t know what the older ones will think. Don’t forget they’ve only just made it legal for married women to teach in the state schools and some of them weren’t that keen on women teaching here at all.”

“That rule was quietly forgotten many a time. I had a married teacher at my junior school in Leeds.”

“It’s not quite the same. Having another married woman, we could easily get away with. Having one who is married to a Governor is another. John and Eric are both happy about it, though and that’s the main thing. We’d agreed if they had any reservations, we’d delay the engagement till Christmas so John could replace me.”

“When do you plan to marry and when are you telling your Mum?”

“Julian, let’s leave them to have a gossip and take a turn in the garden, shall we.”


The two men left the room and Dorothy and Mary settled down for a good chat.

#229:  Author: ChelseaLocation: Your Imagination PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 6:14 pm
    —
Couldn't Julian stop being a Governor (rather than Mary stop teaching)?

Very lovely bit - thanks

#230:  Author: NinaLocation: Peterborough, UK PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 6:14 pm
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Lovely, Pat! Especially Stamford - one of my favourite places Very Happy
And I forgot to say before, but the boys have good taste in reading matter as well - The Gay Dolphin Adventure is another favourite!

#231:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 6:22 pm
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Thank you Pat. In the books, the scene so often ends just when you're gettingt to the interesting parts (at least that's how it feels to me). You write just what I want to read!

#232:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 6:23 pm
    —
patmac wrote:
“So long as we keep it to practical things. If I get distracted by how much I love you, we might end up in a ditch.”


Loved that comment.

Glad they've started telling people - thanks Pat.

#233:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 7:58 pm
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Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that John and Eric are happy for Mary to carry on teaching.

#234:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Wed Jul 12, 2006 8:24 pm
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Lovely Pat thanks

#235:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 3:03 am
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Thank you, Pat. Lovely homecoming scenes. Very Happy

*curious about the ginger beer plant*

#236:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 7:44 am
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That was nice Pat - seeing them settle so many details about their life together, and how they would like it to be. They have so many common ideals....

#237:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 10:08 am
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Thanks Pat, I love this

#238:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 12:22 pm
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I love the way John and Eric were 'unnervingly unsurprised' at the news. this is great as always.

#239:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 6:44 pm
    —
A ginger beer plant is a 'plant' in the chemical sense. Recipe here Better than the shop bought stuff any day!




Chris followed as Reg led the way to a plank door in one corner of the room. Opened, it revealed a flight of steep stairs, turning at the bottom and then heading straight up onto a small landing. Reg opened a door on the right and they went into a small room under the eaves, Reg instinctively ducking his head as they went through the low doorway.

“Bit of a squash, I’m afraid.” Said Reg, heaving his suitcase over onto his bed.

“Bigger than the tent. At least we can stand up. It reminds me of the first dormitory we had at Polgarth that was in the roof. Hey! You can see right up onto the moors. That’s great, all I can see from my room is other houses. You’ve got a big garden as well. Ma wishes we had something bigger.”

“Let’s go down and get that ginger beer and then I’ll show you the garden.”


They clattered down the stairs and through into the kitchen. Chris looked round with interest. A stone sink with one cold tap stood under the window and in the corner was a copper, built of brick and with a small grate underneath. There was a narrow table against one wall with two chairs and a stool tucked underneath. A spirit stove stood on another table to one side and, as they entered, Auntie removed the whistling kettle and poured water into a teapot.

“The ginger beer’s in the pantry and there’s a tin of biscuits in there as well. If you want to go off down the garden with them, I’m going to be sitting in the room where it’s cooler. Just don’t forget you’ve to unpack before tonight or you’ll not be able to get to bed.”

“I’ll just show Chris the pigs and chickens, then we’ll unpack.”


The two friends wandered off down the garden, Reg pointing out the outdoor toilet. “The light switch is just inside the kitchen door. Mr Taylor, that’s Joe’s Dad ran a wire out there. He wanted to run one upstairs as well but Auntie thought it wasn’t worthwhile.”

“That’s what’s missing!”


Reg looked at him as if he had gone mad.

“Street lights. I’ve never been anywhere they didn’t have them before, ‘cept right out in the country.”

“We’d hardly need them here. There’s next to no cars ‘cos the road doesn’t really go anywhere except up to the high farms.”

“I suppose not. Polgarth’s got them, even though it’s a village.”

“Not a village like this! It’s got lots of shops and even a railway station. I’d have called it a town myself.”

“Not if you’d lived in Birmingham, you wouldn’t!”

“I suppose not, but I’ve not lived there so Polgarth still looks like a town to me.”

“Wow. Now that is a prize porker! How many piglets has she got? They’re all milling around and I can’t count them.”

“Eight this time. They’re coming on nicely.”


*

Auntie was relieved that Chris settled in well and seemed to be enjoying himself. She had worried that he would find Garnham boring after living in Cambridge and she certainly couldn’t match the excitement of camping or searching for fossils, but he was interested in everything, ate anything put in front of him and insisted on sharing the chores with Reg.

Most days, she packed them a lunch and they went off tramping the moors. They climbed hills, dammed streams, stained their mouths, hands and clothes with bilberries and watched birds and came back tired and happy to eat their dinner and then, either go for another walk or sit reading in the evening.

Thursday was Joe’s day off and they set off early, their kites on their backs to join him for the day.

“I’m looking forward to flying the kites. You’re right. The moors here are better than the field at school – no trees to get caught up in. What’s Joe like? I know he works on a farm and you went to school together but that’s all. I suppose he’s the same age as you.”

”He’s a few months older. We’ve been friends since the first Christmas I came here when we had out first bikes. As for what he’s like, he’s not much taller than you but a lot broader – and none of it is fat! I’ve seen him hoist a big sheep onto his shoulders and carry it down the hill.”

“And he really wanted to do farm work?”

“He wants to be a shepherd. Mr Ormerod is going to let him do up the old Shepherd’s cottage when he’s a bit older. He can’t wait.”

“And live there alone?”

“It’s what he wants. Nobody could work out why we got on so well but we always did. I was always top of the class and Joe was always somewhere near the bottom. Not that he’s thick, mind – though some people thought he was. He’s just slower when he thinks things through. He couldn’t wait to leave school.”

“It must be nice to know exactly what you want to do when you grow up. He’s like you in that way. I remember you telling us when you first came to Chaucer that you were going to be a Doctor and I don’t think any of the rest of us had given the future a thought.”

“It’s not far now. Just over this rise and we drop down to the farm.”


They walked on and suddenly saw the farm nestled into a little valley. For a moment they stopped and Chris looked back the way they had come.

“I didn’t realise we had climbed so high. It must be lonely out here, especially in winter. We’ve not passed any other houses since that one the Maynards stayed in.”

“This is the end of the track. After this it’s just moors for miles and miles. Hey, look. They’ve got a whole flock of sheep penned in by the farmyard. I hope that doesn’t mean Joe can’t have his day off.”


They set off down the hill to find out what was happening and soon heard the sheep, protesting at their confinement. A collie came running towards them, barking but started wagging her tail as she recognised Reg.

“Just stand still and hold out your hand.” Reg said as Christopher looked rather nervous. “Hello, Mollie. This is Chris.”

The dog came up to Chris, sniffed his hand and then turned to lead the way to the farmyard turning her head from time to time to see that they were following.

“She’ll remember you if you ever come here again.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you can bet on it. I’d love you to see her working the sheep. She’s so clever. Hello Mr Ormerod.”

“Ah, you’re back young Reg. Joe said you was coming today and who’s this then?”

“This is Chris. He’s a friend from school.”


Chris smiled, appealingly, at the farmer. “Hello, Mr Ormerod. Joe will be able to come with us, won’t he.”

As always, his pathetic, ‘I’m only an angelic looking little boy and I might cry if you upset me’ act worked and Mr Ormerod’s rather stern face softened.

“Aye, don’t you worry, lad. We’re just waiting for the lorry to take these sheep off to market. ‘Tis due any minute.”

Reg steeled himself to hide a laugh. Wretched boy! How did he get away with it!

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Reg asked. He looked round. “Where’s Joe?”

“He’s trying to find a couple that slipped off when we were rounding them up. I’ve no doubt he’ll be down in a minute or two. As for help, Aye. I were forgetting you’ve got a farm at that school of yours. You’ll be right useful when we’re getting them onto the lorry.”

“I’m only too glad to help. I’ve done it a few times so you just tell us where you want us and we’ll chivvy them along.”


They heard a raucous shout and saw two sheep rushing down the hill with Joe in hot pursuit. “Be ready! These two varmints have led me a right old chase.” Joe shouted.

Mr Ormerod, Reg and Mollie acted instantly, spreading out to give the sheep only one option – to enter the farmyard. Chris stood transfixed. They might have a farm at school but, as a ‘townie’, his experience of dealing with larger animals was limited. Mr Newby, recognising the limitations of some of the pupils, tended to be a little wary of trusting his precious animals to amateurs.

Balked of an escape route by Reg and Mr Ormerod, chivvied from behind by Mollie, the sheep ran bleating into the farmyard, only to be met by Chris, who, completely at a loss, waved his arms and shouted.

The sheep stopped as they saw him and their captors closed in on them. Joe leapt over the gate into the seething mass of sheep and opened it slightly. Urged on by Mollie, the sheep wandered in to join the flock and he closed the gate in a trice, leaping out as easily as he had entered.

Joe was one big grin. “You must be Chris. Thanks for stopping them, they’d have run off down the lane and we’ve never have caught them. Hello Reg, good to see you. I’ll be ready just as soon as we get this lot on the lorry. Best put your kites somewhere safe in case any get loose.”

Almost as soon as he spoke, the labouring sound of an engine became audible and Mr Ormerod heaved a sigh of relief. “Just in time. Here comes the lorry now.”

Reg took Chris’s kite and ran across to the barn, putting them both inside and they all waited as the lorry came over the rise and bumped it’s way over the ruts in the track down to the farmyard.

The driver turned the lorry so that it’s back was towards the pen and Mr Ormerod, Joe and Reg started to place wooden hurdles in a double line from the gate of the pen to the lorry, while the driver let down the ramp and swung open the side hurdles. Chris saw what they were doing and ran to join them.

“All ready?” asked the driver.

“Aye. Let’s get ‘em in.”

The gate to the pen was swung open and the sheep milled around, uncertain what to do. Grabbing one sheep by the ear, Joe dragged her out of the gate and she headed towards the lorry. The others started to follow and Reg vaulted over the back of the pen and began encouraging the sheep forward. Soon, Mollie was beside him, yapping and nipping at heels and a slow, reluctant progress was suddenly an enthusiastic rush as the sheep surged forward.

Chris, still a little dazed by the whole event, found himself on the opposite side of the hurdles from Mr Ormerod and watched him for clues as to what he should do. As the last sheep started up the ramp, Mr Ormerod slipped through the hurdles and joined in encouraging the sheep on their progress towards captivity.

Greatly daring, Chris followed him and joined in and suddenly the driver was closing the side hurdles and raising the ramp.

The driver produced a piece of paper, on which Mr Ormerod made his mark and, refusing offers of a cup of tea, climbed back into his lorry and set off down the hill again.

“Tea for the rest of us. ‘Twere easier with extra hands. Now mind you all dip your hands in the bucket before we go indoors. Can’t be too careful.”

Chris guessed that the disinfectant routine was to avoid spreading infection and, though he had not actually touched a sheep, followed the others’ example. Soon they were all sitting round the big table with mugs of tea and eating lardy cake. Mrs Ormerod proved to be just as susceptible to Chris’s charm as anyone else while clever Mollie had obviously decided he would be a soft touch and sat beside him with beseeching eyes.

“Am I allowed to slip Mollie bits of cake?” he asked, thinking it best to check.

“This once won’t hurt her. Don’t nobody else do it though! Chris isn’t likely to come here often but I wouldn’t want her to get the idea we’re all as soft. You can’t afford to spoil a working dog.”

Once they had finished, Joe ran off to fetch his kite and Reg fetched his and Christopher’s.

They set off up the hill, Chris and Joe both feeling a little shy.

To Chris, Joe seemed very grown up. He might only be a little older than Reg but he was doing a man’s job and obviously doing it well. He thought Joe might find him a bit of a wimp.

To Joe, Chris seemed the very picture of a clever boy. He looked even younger than his thirteen years as well, almost delicate. Reg was clever but he was just Reg. This boy was two years younger but was so clever they were in the same class at school. Joe felt clumsy and slow beside him.

Reg was sure that the two would get on once they got to flying their kites. They were both keen and would soon have something in common. They walked up the moor, Reg relating the story of Grimes Graves and the finding of the stone axe.

“Just like our axes now. Well I never.”

When Reg told him of the discovery of the ammonite, he was more interested.

“And you found shells as well?”

“Right high on the cliff. They’ve turned into a kind of rock.”

“I wonder if that’s what we find round here. There’s places where the shale has slid down and I’ve found shells. I wondered how they got all the way up here.”

“Could you show us?”

“Aye. If I can get away on Saturday after I’ve done my chores. ‘Tis a long walk, though.”
He looked at Chris, doubtfully.

“We walk right over the tops at school and I’ve got a lot fitter this week. We’ve been all the way to Goathland and on up to the Bridestones and beyond.”

Joe grinned. “Tougher than you look then. Me mam has a box with a picture on it looks just like you.”

Chris groaned. “I think there’s one in every house in England. You’ve no idea how awful it is.”

They reached the top of the slope and found themselves on a broad plateau. Chris looked round with approval. Apart from a few large rocks which were big enough to see easily, the ground was almost bare.

“This is super. Much better than at school where there are trees.”

“Why don’t you fly them on the tops then?”

“It’s not like this. The limestone has sort of gutters running every which way, you’d break an ankle or worse. Some of the holes go down a long way.”


They unpacked their kites and assembled them before spreading out to fly them. Soon the kites were high in the air, higher than Chris had ever flown one before, even on the cliffs at Hunstanton. The wind was tricky and it took all his concentration to control its antics but, once he had got the feel of it, he could do more complicated manoeuvres than he had dared try at school.

Time flew by and it was not till a stray gust brought Reg’s kite dangerously near the ground and he let out a yell as he reeled it in that they realised they were hungry.

Lunch was as good as lunch always is outdoors. Auntie had packed a pile of thick sandwiches filled with cheese and marmite and Mrs Ormerod had given them three large lamb and potato pasties and the rest of the lardy cake. They had plenty of water, which they drank straight from the bottles and finished off their meal with an apple each.

The talk was of kites and the best reels, the best type of string to make lines and ways of controlling them in various strengths of wind.

When they had finished, Christopher lay back and undid the top button of his trousers. “I’m pogged!” he exclaimed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”

“Christopher Hanson! If your mum heard you say pogged, she’d be horrified.”

“Good thing she’s not here then.”
Said Chris lazily.

“Hanson?” Joe queried. “Are you the boy Reg pulled out of the hole on the moor?”

“That’s me. Now you see why its an advantage to be a little ‘un. If it had been you he’d never have managed.”

“Good job it wasn’t! I’d probably have pushed that bully down the hole and be in prison for murder now. Did you ever hear any more of him?”

“No. I suppose they found another school that wasn’t so fussy.”

“Good riddance to him. Chris, how did you do that double loop? I’ve tried and can’t get mine to do it.”

“I’ll show you in a bit when my lunch has gone down. It’s a flick of the wrist. I don’t have the strength in my arms you two do so I’ve learned to rely on smaller movements to control the kite. I want to see how you do that really slow figure of eight.”


It was not long before they were all on their feet again and demonstrating tricks to one another. Reg saw Chris trying to get Joe to do delicate movements with his wrists and grinned to himself. He just knew they would get on.

#240:  Author: SugarplumLocation: second star to the right! PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 7:34 pm
    —
That was lovely. I can understand Joe feeling a bit awkward around Chris though. Glad they are all getting along well.

#241:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 7:37 pm
    —
I'm sure it gets really boring reading this again and again, Pat - but that was wonderful! Laughing Love how Chris and Joe were initially wary but grew closer.

Thank you

#242:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 7:51 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Chris and Joe are getting on with each other.

#243:  Author: DawnLocation: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 8:00 pm
    —
I've just spent most of this afternoon reading this from the begining and it's been absolutely fabulous Pat - a lovely escapist afternoon thankyou

#244:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Thu Jul 13, 2006 10:19 pm
    —
That's brilliant Pat!
And I'm so relieved that Chris and Joe are getting on with each other. It would have been awful for Reg if they'd hated each other on sight!

#245:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 1:38 am
    —
Oh, that was nice! Good to see Joe and Chris getting along despite their initial wariness.

Thanks Patmac.

#246:  Author: Mrs RedbootsLocation: London, UK PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 8:36 am
    —
Ah, this is so-o-o-o-o-o-o-o good! Thanks, Pat.

#247:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 1:19 pm
    —
Heartfelt thanks, Pat. I love this. It's so disappointing when you haven't posted any more, but whnen I log on and find that you have, whoopee!

#248:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 6:22 pm
    —
Thanks for the encouragement.



“Hello. John Wheeler here. Good morning Eric. I was going to call you and see when I could pop over for a chat. Yes, it’s good news about Mary and Julian. OK, I’ll wander up around eleven. It will probably the only chance we have with term starting in a week.”

*

“Jacob, I’m off to catch the train. We’ll be back around five, I should think.”

“All right, dear. It will be nice to get him home, even if it’s only for a week.”


*

“Are you sure you’ve got everything, Chris?”

“Well, if I haven’t, I couldn’t carry it anyway, Auntie! Anything I’ve left, Reg can bring to school. It’s only another week anyway.”


*

Dorothy picked up a pile of books. “I’m going down to Chaucer to do a bit of sorting in the Library. I’ll be back by lunch time.”

Hugh looked up from the lesson plan he was working on. “All right. Let’s go out this afternoon.”

“Good idea. We’ve only got another week.”


*

“We’ll have to go into Newcastle and get you some new shoes, Gay. I don’t think these will last till Christmas, they’ve been mended so many times.”

“I suppose so. Matey might have something to say if we nailed clegs on the soles to make them last longer.”

“She might indeed – honestly Gay, the things you come out with! What else do you need?”

“I’m not too bad this term. Jacynth needs a new C string though.”

“We’d better go tomorrow then. It’s only a week till you go back. Let’s leave the twins with Mrs Butcher and make a day of it.”


*

“Mercy’s coming back tomorrow and the others will trickle in over the next few days. It will be nice to have them back. I don’t mind being alone at the Lodge but it’s more fun when everyone is there.”

“You’ll miss Stacie.”

“I will. She sounds happy though, back at Oxford. I can’t believe how she’s hustled round and got the men in to do the work so quickly. Her latest letter says the shelves are up and her books all out on them. Trust Stacie to do the study first.”

“Let’s walk down to the river. This time next week you’ll be back in school and I’ll only see you on your days off.”

“That’s the only snag with going back. Never mind. Next year we’ll be together. If we go for a walk now, I’ll go into school this afternoon I’ve a few ideas, I’d like to try with the boys and I need to test them out myself first.”


*

“Joe! I didn’t think I’d see you again. Are you coming all the way to Leeds?”

“No fear! I’m just coming into Garnley to pick up some bits from the ironmongers. You’re off home then.”

“Yes. Nearly the end of the holidays, we go back next week. I’m going to practice that figure of eight you showed me till I get it right.”

“And I’m going to try that twist with my wrist as well.”

“Maybe we’ll get to show one another next year.”

“I hope so. It was fun with three of us.”

“ I’ll let you know what they say about those fossil shells. If Pa’s book doesn’t have them, someone at the college will know all about them.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep my eyes open for any others I find.”

“That would be great.”


*

“Girls! There’s a letter from Reg.”

There was a thundering of feet on the stairs as Len and Con rushed down.

“My, I thought there were ten of you for a moment! Where’s Margot?”

“She said he’s only a boy and she’s not interested.”
Said Con.

“Well, she’ll miss his news then won’t she.” Jo opened the envelope and spread the sheets out. “Goodness, three pages! He has been busy.”

Len was jumping from foot to foot. “Read it out then. What’s he been doing?”

“Alright. Here we go.

‘Dear Auntie Jo and everyone,

I’m sorry I’ve not written any proper letters before now. I did promise Len I would but I hadn’t realised just how difficult it would be to write when we were camping. There just isn’t room in a tent and there always seems something urgent to do. By the time I got to bed, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. I hope you got the postcards.

We had a smashing time and ended up spending most of the holidays at a place called Hunstanton because we made some friends – well, actually Chris knocked one of them down the steps to the beach. They were two girls and an older lady who was sister or something to one of them. One was about seventeen and one was my age.

What made us friends was that one of them, the one Chris knocked down the steps, looks so like him it was weird. They’re trying to find out if they’re cousins or something because it doesn’t look as if they can’t be, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, we all got to be friends and we went fossil hunting and the aunt or sister or whatever she was, found an enormous ammonite. They’re quite rare and Mr Hanson chipped the rock down to a size we could carry and he’s taken it back to College for someone to look at and clean it up.

We did lots of swimming and played cricket on the beach and flew our kites on the cliff top. The best thing ever was the dodgems. It is so much fun and we went on everyday.

One day we went to a place called Grimes Graves which isn’t a grave at all but a prehistoric flint mine. We went to meet a friend of Doctor Hanson’s who is a Professor at Cambridge, though you’ve never think it. She was really funny and nice and showed us where they were digging. We went right down a long way down ladders. She said it was thirty feet and we went through tunnels and everything. Chris cut his toe on something and it turned out to be an ancient axe head and everyone was very excited. We had our picture taken with it and I’ll bring the snap down when I come next. They were so pleased that they gave us an arrow head each. They are thousands of years old. I’ll bring mine next time as well to show you.

After they had gone home, we went on down the coast and had crab at a place called Cromer. It was quite nice but I think I’d rather have fish and chips. We went all round Cambridge as well and then went back to Garnham on the train.

I’ve showed Chris all over and he saw The Witchens and we had a day with Joe, flying kites and they liked one another.

Chris goes home tomorrow, probably we are going to the bus as you read this. Then it’s one week and back to school. Auntie and I are going into Leeds next week to get me some new shirts and I think I’ll have to have a new blazer as my sleeves are nearly up to my elbows. Still, it might see me through as I’ve only got three years to go at school now and I do seem to be growing a lot slower now.

It’s been a lot of fun and I’ve enjoyed it but it would have been nice to see you as well. It does seem ages since the wedding, doesn’t it and I didn’t see the triplets even then..

Give my love to everyone and especially my Able Seaman!

Love from

Reg

PS. Good job I read it through. I never mentioned the girls’ names. They were Gay and Jacynth, though we called her Jac a lot of the time because it was quicker. Gay was the one who looked like Chris.’

“Gay Lambert!”
exclaimed Jo. “I knew Christopher and his father reminded me of someone.”

“Really?”
said Con, her eyes wide.

“Most probably. There can’t be many girls called Gay who look like Chris – I like that short, by the way - going around with another one called Jacynth. Now don’t you mention this to them. It sounds as if they never mentioned the school or they’d have realised that Reg and Chris know us. I’ll write to Mrs Hanson and Mrs Lambert and check if it’s really them. If it’s not, you’ll scare them out of six months growth!”

Len giggled. “Gay does look like Chris. If they’re not cousins I’ll eat my hat.”

“Mary Helena Maynard. Where do you get your expressions from!”

“From you, of course! I’ve heard you say it lots of times.”

“Well, don’t let Miss Annersley hear you. She’ll be telling me off as well as you. Now what are we going to do today. You’ve only one more week till you go back to school so make the most of it.”

#249:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 8:17 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Joey will be able to let Gay, Jacynth, Reg and Chris know that they have friends in common.

#250:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 8:35 pm
    —
LOL!
Thanks Pat!
I LOVE Len's comment there!

#251:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 8:54 pm
    —
I thought you weren't going to allow then to realise Gay and Jacynth had met Reg for a minute there!

Thanks Pat.

#252:  Author: DawnLocation: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Fri Jul 14, 2006 11:28 pm
    —
At last! Laughing


love Margot's lack of interest too Laughing

#253:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Sat Jul 15, 2006 4:00 am
    —
Lovely! Very Happy

#254:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Jul 15, 2006 9:37 am
    —
Excellent as usual. Very Happy
Thank you, Pat.

#255:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sun Jul 16, 2006 1:57 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. A lot of threads seem to be coming together there.

#256:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 5:22 pm
    —
“Well, did you see that coming?” Eric beamed and waved John to a seat.

“I’d hate to say ‘told you so’ but I did have my hopes. Julian has been a singularly lonely man”

“I’ll admit to you, in private, that it took me by surprise, though I didn’t let them see. I’ve got a reputation for omniscience to uphold after all. Anyway, I had notice because I saw them coming across the playing fields. I think they were both about two inches off the ground. Mary Collins is not at all the sort of girl I’d have expected him to fall for, though.”

“She’s deeper than she looks. That tomboyish attitude is hers is a way of keeping the world at bay – just as Julian’s patrician manner does the same. I think they’ll suit very well.”

“Well we’ve one problem solved. Here, read this.”


John read the short letter and looked up, his grin matching Eric’s.

“Well that is providential. I’m sure my sentiments are not exactly noble but for old Fowler, bless his contrary little soul, to shuffle off this mortal coil at this moment is rather good timing. He was the one I expected to make a fuss about a Governor being even remotely connected with a mere member of the lowly teaching staff.”

“I suppose he must have been in his late eighties and he’s been an invalid for the last couple of years so we knew it couldn’t be far off but he’s argued every change we’ve ever made and led the other two fossils by the nose. Now the rest will follow Julian rather than bother themselves and Borrows and Adams, have always been in the progressive camp, being younger, I think they are genuinely interested In what we’re trying to do. That leaves us five governors and the majority prepared to accept progress.”

“Will Julian have heard of this?”

“He should have as Chairman of the Governors but, if the Lawyers only had his London address, it may take a day or two to get to him. I rather wonder if he might try to buy Fowler’s shares.”

“Nice for us to be ahead of him for once and it does clear the way to keep Mary – at least for the moment. I still can’t see Julian settling down unless he finds a challenge here, even if he does become majority share holder.”

“Perhaps we’d better try and come up with one for him, then. I’d like him on hand as well. He’s a nice person as well as a good Governor. I suppose Mary and Dorothy will start families soon and we’ll lose them. That’s partly why some of the Governors were against taking on women, of course. We’ll only have had them a short time.”

“Oh, I don’t know. One of the reasons we’ve lost men has been the lack of women about the place. Not many girls are willing to be as isolated as this and I can think of two men we lost shortly before the war because their intendeds took one look and gave them an ultimatum, and another three who didn’t come back after the war because they’d got married. Perhaps we’ll keep the men longer.

Miss Barbour has said she will stay another full year if we need her. She’s enjoying it, both the teaching and living at the Lodge. I think she disliked London as much as Julian did. She’s not qualified but the boys like her and she gets results. Her languages are as good as Dorothy’s. We’ll have to start looking for a replacement, though, for I don’t suppose she’ll stay forever.”

“Will you look for another woman?”

“I’ll go for the best candidate but open it to women. It’s been quite a success for the boys and it certainly improves morale in the staff room.”

“Good luck then. I need to get together with Robert next. We’ve just about got the prefects and the forms sorted but there are a few wrinkles to iron out. We’re still undecided about those Inseparables.”

“In what way? I thought they were running rings round everyone else.”

“Oh, they are and the problem is not their fault. We tried putting them with a few who were repeating Lower V last year and it worked very well. They dragged them along behind them, even though it did mean half the class was three years older than Hanson.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem, John, is that the others caught up only on a rerun of the same lessons and their marks were still below the younger boys. Everyone says they’ll have to go in the A or even Alpha division this year and that leave two big forms and six boys way out at the top It’s also fairly depressing for other members of the form when the same boys consistently head the lists.”

“Ah! I see what you mean. Have you got any to hold back from Lower VI this year?”

“Only two. Jenkins will be all right. He’s bright by normal standards and only repeating because he missed the exams. He had appendicitis at Easter and was quite poorly but poor Adkins is a different matter. He’ll have to go in Alpha and, even then all the coaching in the world is only going to get him a scrape through School Cert and he’ll still be here when he’s grey if his parents insist on him trying for Higher. Which I don’t think they will, thank goodness.”

“So what will you do.”

“That’s why we’re tearing our hair out. We’ve set ourselves up as being able to give what every boy individually needs and, usually that means coaching the slower ones. When you get a gang like this, its more difficult.”

“But just as important.”

“Indeed. We’ve talked before about what we can do for the country, and the world for that matter, by bringing on the next generation and if we fail with the brightest, we might as well not bother.”

“Can you manage to have four forms and split these six out anyway.

“We’re looking at that now. It would make it possible to balance the sizes of the forms out more evenly. Some minority subjects are split across the forms anyway so the timetable is not such a problem and I really want to stretch them. If Hanson hadn’t been so young, he could have managed School Cert last year. Whatever we do, he’s going to coast through Maths and take every other subject in his stride. The same goes for all of them – but not in the same subjects, unfortunately. If that were the case, we’d just split them out for one subject and let them progress ahead of the rest in that.”

“What about Entwistle? He had so much to make up.”

“You’d never know it now. He’s always second or third in Maths, takes first place in chemistry most terms, runs rings round them all in Biology, his English is good enough to take third or fourth place - and so it goes on. They seem to rotate the top places in every subject, except Maths which Hanson always heads.”

“They need an extra challenge. They’re keen to learn so what can we add to their load to keep them on their toes?”

“You mean add another subject?”

“If we can think of one that would grab their attention it might be what they need. What about languages? These lads missed out on Dorothy’s methods so they’re probably not fluent in French and some of them won’t have done any German if they’re on the Science route. Give ‘em some extra there. It’ll give them an edge in later life.”

“It’s an idea. Could Dorothy manage to fit it in?”

“Either Dorothy or Mercy. When I think about it, it could be just what Mercy needs to help her decide whether teaching is really for her. She’s been dealing with the younger boys so far and I think she’d enjoy working with the older ones. She doesn’t have a full teaching load at the moment.”

“All right. I’ll talk to Robert about it and then we’ll need to see what Ed says. I don’t want to step on his toes.”


*
“Well done, Jimmy.”

Jimmy Canning sank onto the bench and panted. “How long is this going to take?”

“You’re doing really well. How long is it since you first stood up.”

“Three weeks.”

“And how long were you in bed?”

“Seven months”

“So, if we translate that into days, it was 210 days in bed and 21 learning to walk again. What’s that as a percentage?”
As he spoke, Mr Spencer was massaging, Jimmy’s thigh.

“Ouch that hurts.”

“Sorry, the muscle is cramped.“

“Oof! That’s better, it’s eased now, thanks. Ten percent.”

“Well done. That doesn’t mean you’ve another 90 percent to go, you’re probably about 60 percent there and it will get easier, I promise. We’ll have you home in November and back at school after Christmas. Doctor Maynard assures me they’ve someone who can help you keep your exercises up once you get back to school.”

“It just doesn’t feel like I’ll ever walk properly again.”

“Oh yes you will I promise, or my name’s not Philip Spencer.”


*

“Doctor Maynard, do you have a minute?”

“Yes Philip, of course.”

“It’s young Jimmy Canning. He’s doing well but he can’t see it for himself at the moment. Mr Wilkinson wondered if you had any ideas to buck him up as you know more of his background.”

“Getting discouraged with progress is he?”

“He is, rather. I’ve said he’ll be home in November and back at school after Christmas but he needs some intermediate challenges. For a lad of his age, November is a long way away and he’s finding it tough going learning to walk again. Not only are the muscles weak but his brain keeps thinking that one leg is a lot shorter.”

“Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with my wife. The triplets are back at school next week and she’ll have a bit more time. She’ll be better able to deal with this than I am. He’ll see me as just another Doctor.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Jo. I’ll tell you what, come over for supper on Saturday if you can and we’ll talk it through with her then.”

“If you’re sure that will be all right with her. I’d love to.”

“Seven o’clock Saturday then.”

“I’ll be there. I wonder if part of it is knowing that term starts next week and he’ll not be there.”

“Could be. Poor kid.”

#257:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 5:36 pm
    —
Thanks Pat - the Six are causing problems aren't they? Hope they enjoy the German lessons - of course they'll help Reg later won't they....

#258:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 7:31 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I wonder how the boys will get on with the language lessons.

#259:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 8:28 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. It's a marvel, the way you keep all the threads going.

#260:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 12:37 am
    —
Thanks Pat, wonderful updates as ever. Language lessons should be interesting!

Hope Jack & Jo can lift Jimmy's spirits.

Quote:
As always, his pathetic, ‘I’m only an angelic looking little boy and I might cry if you upset me’ act worked and Mr Ormerod’s rather stern face softened.

Loved this line! Laughing

#261:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 12:41 am
    —
Thank you Pat. Good to see the school recognising that they have to accommodate the needs of all pupils, and it will be interesting to see what they make of the languages.

And how lovely to hear more of Canning!

#262:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 3:45 pm
    —
Thank you Pat, just caught up on loads - wonderful as ever!

#263:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 6:32 pm
    —
Reg and Auntie stood on the platform with Dorothy, waiting for the great express train to pull into Leeds Railway Station. Up and down the platform little groups of boys were waiting, chatting away as they caught up on one another’s news.

Hugh had gone to speak to the mother of a new boy and was just taking her and her son to introduce them to a group of boys who looked his age, when Dorothy, who had been ticking names off a list, looked up. “One new boy missing! Bother, the train’s due any minute.”

“I think he’s just coming now.”
Reg pointed to the entrance. “I’m sure I saw a Chaucer blazer in that crowd.”

Dorothy turned and gave a sigh of relief. A small boy came hurrying towards them, holding the hand of a small dark haired woman who looked harassed and carried his case in her other hand. When Dorothy started towards her, she looked relieved.

“Sorry. We had a horrendous journey and I thought we’d miss the train.”

“That’s all right. You’re here now. I’m Mrs Douglas, one of the staff, and you must be Mrs Baker.”


The two women shook hands and Dorothy turned to the small boy. “And you must be Jeremy Baker. If you come with me, I’ll introduce you to someone your own age."

“Here it comes.”
A cry went up and the boys lunged for their cases and lined up ready to board.

“Bye, Auntie. I’ve had super hols but I’ll have to go now. I’m the oldest boarding here so I’ll be needed to help. I’ll write.” With a quick hug, Reg left her and headed towards a gang of juniors who were pushing and shoving one another, restoring order with a sharp word.

Auntie watched, pride in her boy warring with sadness at seeing him leave again. Parents were saying goodbye and standing back and Auntie moved along the platform to where she knew Reg would be waving if he got there in time. Sure enough, a forest of arms and grinning faces were poking through the windows and she waved back.

“Where is he?” called Chris.

“Sorting out some juniors. He’ll be with you in a minute. Have a good term and work hard.”

A chorus of good natured groans came in reply and Auntie laughed at them then, feeling a touch on her arm, she turned and saw Mrs Douglas standing beside her.

“Mrs Thirtle, do you have time to have a word with Mrs Baker? Her son is just off to school for the first time and she’s a bit distressed. I’ve got to get on the train and I don’t know who else to ask.”

“If it will help, I’ll take her into the café for a cup of tea and let her get it off her chest.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll bring her over.”


Auntie just had time to wave to Reg who appeared at the window with his friends when Mrs Douglas appeared again with Mrs Baker, who was pale and not far off tears.

Auntie put her hand on her elbow and turned her to face the train.

“You can cry all you want in a minute dear, but just smile and wave now till the train goes. You don’t want your lad to go off seeing you looking upset.”

“I can’t see him.”

“That doesn’t matter, he can see you. Come on, wave. The train is moving.”


Mrs Baker gave a little gulp and waved as the train pulled out and then looked as if she might collapse.

“Is it his first time at school?”

Mrs Baker could only nod.

“He’ll be all right. I felt just like that when our Reg went first time. Come and have a cup of tea and settle yourself before you go home.”

Once she had the shaking woman settled at a table, Auntie bustled up to the counter and was quickly back with two thick mugs of strong tea.

“Here, drink this. It’ll help.”

Once Mrs Baker had sipped a little of the tea, Auntie was relieved as she saw the colour come back into the woman’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry. He’s all I’ve got and he just seems too young to go away but my father insisted he should. You see, there’s no good day schools near us and he wasn’t doing well at the one he was going to.”

“He’ll be all right. They’re right nice at Polgarth. Have you been to see the school?”

“No, my father dealt with everything because I’ve been ill.”


Auntie proceeded to tell Mrs Baker, in glowing terms, how good the school was, how helpful and kind the staff were to the boys, how important it was to get a good education and how much Reg had learned at the school.

Mrs Baker listened and looked a little comforted.

“You see, we have to what is best for them, however hard it is. That’s the difficult part of bringing up children.”

“Thank you. You’ve made me feel a bit better. The house is just going to seem so empty without him.”

“Aye. It still takes me a couple of days to get over the quiet when Reg goes off. Mind you, it takes me a couple of days to get used to the noise again when he gets home. He talks even on about things I don’t understand, it used to be the finer points of playing marbles or conkers and then it got on to rugby and cricket. I just nod and agree.”


For the first time, Mrs Baker smiled.

“I thought it was just me. My father says I spoil him.”

“I should think any mother who loves her lad would feel the same but it’s worse when you’re on your own. I remember the first time I waved Reg off, I went home and took all the mats out and beat them – it was that or sit down and cry.”

“I might try that. Keeping busy is the only thing to do.”

“Aye. I’ll mention him to Reg when I write. He’s up at the senior school now of course but he’s sometimes down at Chaucer on errands and he’ll look for him if I ask him. He’s got a kind heart.”


Mrs Baker looked at her watch. “I’ll have to go and catch my train. If I miss it, I’ll miss my connection and goodness knows what time I’ll get home.” She stood up and held out her hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been so kind. I really can’t thank you enough.”

Auntie stood up as well. “I’m Mrs Thirtle but everyone calls me Auntie.”

“Then, thank you Auntie. I’m Irma.” They shook hands and Auntie patted Mrs Baker on the shoulder.

“You’ll be fine Irma and so will he.”

Irma Baker left the café and Auntie looked at the clock. She’d missed her train but that didn’t matter, the next one would do. Going up to the counter again, she bought another cup of tea and sat down to drink it slowly.

Poor woman. She’d probably lost her husband in the war, like so many. Suddenly a smile spread across Aunties face and she gazed unseeing out of the window where the hurrying travellers scurried to catch their trains. She’d been telling Mrs Baker about the importance of a good education as if she’d always believed it.

Well, it was a small soul who couldn’t learn something new and admit she’d been wrong. Reg was doing really well and he’d never have settled to being a farm worker. She was right proud of him and no mistake.

But the cottage would seem empty tonight.

THE END OF PART 11


I’m going to be missing all next week on a family holiday and won’t be back on the board till the beginning of August. I’m well on the way with Part 12 but there will be a gap in posting till I get past a certain point in case I create any EBDisms.

#264:  Author: DawnLocation: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 7:23 pm
    —
That was just a fabulous post Pat - even if it did have me in tears

Lovely to see Auntie being able to comfort Irma and having the confidence to do so. She has grown as much as Reg in the time she has looked after him.


And Irma ............... conicidence of a name or not Confused

Hope you have a lovely family holiday Pat

and please when you get chance will you email me this and Part 10 so that I can keep them for ever and ever. And I'm going to start sneakily printing out the entire series as it has become one of my real comfort reads and I need to be able to curl up with it not just read it on the PC Laughing

#265:  Author: LesleyLocation: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 9:32 pm
    —
Lovely episode, Pat - and how wonderful for Auntie to be extolling the virtues of education - she's come a long way.

Thank you

#266:  Author: MiaLocation: London PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 10:13 pm
    —
Thanks Pat, fabulous as ever and hurrah for Part 12! Smile Smile Smile

#267:  Author: AliceLocation: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 11:12 pm
    —
Thank you Pat. I've throughly enjoyed Part 11. Looking forward to part 12.

#268:  Author: Cath V-PLocation: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 12:17 am
    —
Thank you Pat, that was a very moving ending. Auntie has come so far hasn't she - and is such an integral member of this community.

Looking forward to Part 12. Enjoy your holiday!

#269:  Author: ChairLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 12:35 pm
    —
Thanks, Pat. I'm glad that Auntie was able to reassure Mrs Baker. I am also wondering if the name Irma is just a coincidence. Thank you for all the wonderful updates in this last part. They have been so lovely to read and I look forward to reading Part 12. I also hope that you enjoy your holiday.

#270:  Author: Mrs RedbootsLocation: London, UK PostPosted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 5:19 pm
    —
Oh, there's only one thing wrong with this - it's finished! It was super, thanks Pat.

Really looking forward to part 12, but have a great holiday first!

#271:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 5:21 pm
    —
Thank you Pat! Part 11 has been fantastic, and I can't wait for Part 12! Hope you have a great holiday.

#272:  Author: RayLocation: Bristol, England PostPosted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 7:46 pm
    —
A lovely ending, Pat - and so nice to see that Auntie's able to help someone out. Can't help wondering what the new term will bring for Jeremy (and the rest!)

Enjoy the holiday Smile

Ray *going to do a megareread*

#273:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jul 20, 2006 9:42 am
    —
Thank you Pat, well done Auntie and great to see Reg being so grown-up. Eagerly anticipating part 12, enjoy your holiday first!

#274:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jul 20, 2006 10:57 am
    —
Have a great holiday, Pat, and come back refreshed and ready to give us the next part of this.

#275:  Author: Elder in OntarioLocation: Ontario, Canada PostPosted: Fri Jul 21, 2006 1:05 pm
    —
THank you, Pat, for ending this before your holiday - it's been another lovely read all the way through, even if I only posted a very few comments!

Enjoy your holiday, and we'll be eagerly looking forward to Part 12 when you are ready to start posting.

#276:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Mon Jul 24, 2006 3:37 am
    —
Very satisfying ending. Very Happy
(To this part, that is. I certainly wouldn't want to end the series!)

Have a wonderful holiday.

#277:  Author: JosieLocation: London PostPosted: Mon Jul 24, 2006 9:11 pm
    —
Another one wondering if Irma's name's a coincidence or not!

Thanks Pat, that was a lovely ending. Bless Auntie. And look forward to seeing how Jeremy gets on at school.

Hope you had a fab holiday Very Happy

#278:  Author: KatLocation: Abertawe PostPosted: Mon Jul 24, 2006 11:13 pm
    —
Thank you, Pat - wonderful to come home from holiday and read right through to the end like that!


Hope you had a lovely time!

(Is it too soon to start chanting?) Very Happy

#279:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 9:41 am
    —
Thank you, Pat, that was fantastic as always. I have enjoyed every post.

Looking forward to part 12 when it's ready, but in the meantime hope you're having a wonderful holiday Very Happy



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