Of Different Times

by Agnes Kirkwood

  ‘Oh! She’s beautiful,’ she said. I looked at her and knew Barbara would be in good hands. But I still held onto my baby frightened to let her go. I looked at the man smiling at me. He didn’t come too close but stretched his head to look at the baby. I could tell he was feeling my heartache so he kept his distance.

  ‘Please look after her, and if she wants to find me, please don’t stop her.’

  She promised me she wouldn’t, and said they already had a little adopted boy who was two years old; and he was also Scottish.

  My heart skipped a beat at the words Scottish boy, I knew then it was all going to turn out to be the best thing to do. So I gave my little Barbara a kiss and gently placed her in the arms of her new mummy. The woman thanked me very much and told me not to worry because she would be well looked after. I couldn’t answer her for fear of crying. I just smiled before the lady escorted me through the door. It was only when I went back to the room my sister was in I eventually broke down and cried.

  On the way home the silence was eerie, nobody knew what to say. But I assured myself once and for all. The look on that couples face said it all; I had done the right thing. I knew then she would have a good life. Now I could get on with mine. It wouldn’t be easy, but hopefully time would heal.

  At home I got a good reception, everyone was pleased to see me, and my little sister wore the cardigan I knitted for her. She never left my sight all that day; it was as if I was going to do a disappearing act again. Mum made my favourite dinner, homemade steak pie. There was eleven of us all crushed around the table. It was good to be home, and for the rest of the day I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself.

  I got a shock when I heard my dad had changed his job. At the peat moss company the men went on strike for some reason which I can’t remember. But according to my dad the owner in Carlyle would not give in to the men’s request, so they all dropped tools and walked out. My dad handed in his resignation and walked out with them. He got a job at the Pimbo Lane Brick Works as the boiler man. A job he was qualified to do down the pit. My brother went to college, training to be a builder, and Stan had a job in Wigan with Wall’s Ice Cream. He drove about certain villages selling ice cream.

  Every now and then I wondered how Barbara was doing in her new home, and if her little adopted brother was jealous of her. Things were great except for one thing, the milk in my breast was leaking all the time and every now and then I had to go and change my top. As the days went by my breast were hard and uncomfortable. I told mum and she was disgusted at the nurses in the Home for not giving me anything to clear my milk. She reminded me of the time she went into hospital with blood poising after she weaned my little brother Jimmy, off the breast, she was there for months. Funny enough I remembered that time. That night before going to bed she gave me Epsom Salts in a glass of water, saying it would stop my milk flow. It certainly did the trick.

  The next thing I had to do was find a job. So as soon as New Year was over I started looking. Winnie had a job in Greenall Whitley’s Brewery offices in St. Hellens and got me an interview in the brewery itself. I got the job and started there the week after.

  I couldn’t get Barbara out of my mind. I felt guilty as if I had just given her away because I didn’t want her; which was far from the truth, because my heart ached for her every minute of the day. I still cried every night. And I wondered how long before this broken heart would heal.

  I had a visit of the social worker asking me how things were. I told her that it hurt and how guilty I felt for leaving Barbara with strangers and god knows how she was doing. I just wanted to know if she had settled in and was being well looked after. I told her I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to sign her away for good. She said she would enquire and let me know. I asked if it would be possible just to have a picture of her to keep. She told me she would arrange that and not to worry because I still had a couple of weeks to go before I had to make my mind up before the final adoption.

  I told Stan all about the visit. I could tell he was getting worried in case I changed my mind. I assured him I wouldn’t change my mind. I just needed to know and see that she was happy and content. I told him I couldn’t just switch my feelings off, and that I was sorry but that was something he would either have to put up with or just get on with his life because he couldn’t possibly know what I was going through.

  It was a man who brought the adoption papers for me to sign. I asked where the photo was, and he said he didn’t know. I refused to sign and he told me to write a letter and he would take it back with him. I did, and as I handed it to him, Mum poked her nose in the lounge door and offered him a cup of tea; which to my horror he accepted. I just knew there was a twenty question quiz on its way.

  I did receive a photo of Barbara. She was happy and smiling and I could tell by the picture she was contented and well loved. If only that couple knew what that picture meant to me, it was the only proof I needed to set my mind at rest knowing she was well looked after, and at least I could give her a kiss every night before going to sleep. God she was so beautiful.

  Although it broke my heart I had no hesitation in signing the final adoption papers. But that didn’t mean I was signing away my memories of her. They will stay in my heart forever.

  Stan and I got engaged to be married about six months later. We decided to save up for a deposit to put down on our own house. So much for all the dancing and living it up, I was going to do. Then, in the early sixties if you married before the new tax year in April you could claim you tax back. Between us we saved every penny and set the day for the following March so we could claim our tax. The only night we went out was a Saturday night with my brother William, and Winnie, and they were in the same boat as us, always skint. Through the week we would all just go for walks or a run in the van somewhere.

  Part of my job at the Brewery was, taking the bottles of beer from the conveyer belt and putting them into crates. Every so often a bottle would explode, and it was part of my job to clear it off the belt. So for that reason I never wore my engagement ring to work.

  One morning on my way to work, I was sitting on the bus and realised I still had my ring on. So I took it off and wrapped it in a tissue and placed it in my purse. After work on my way home again I went into my purse to get my bus fare out and put my ring back on. My stomach turned, it wasn’t in the tissue. I realised it must have fell out when I went into my purse at dinner time to give the girl who’s turn it was that day to go to the baker for our lunches. I got off the bus again and ran all the way back to the Brewery. I searched everywhere, but it was hopeless. My ring was gone it was probably flushed down the drain when we hosed and squeegeed the floor of all the broken glass after work.

  I felt gutted, I dreaded telling Stan. By the time I arrived home I was two hours late, and mum was worried. When I told her the reason I was late, she couldn’t believe it.

  -That made matters worse. I knew how hard he must have saved. I told her not to tell him because I would tell him when the time was right.

  Stan came to our house every single night, and I was always glad to see him, but that night I dreaded him coming. My stomach turned when the door opened and he walked in. Before anybody had the chance to say hello my little Brother Jimmy who was then twelve and was the tell-tale of our house shouted at the top of his voice.

  ‘Stan, our Nan has lost her engagement ring.’

  To that he received a slap over the head from mum. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I just stood there, short for words and looked at him.

  ‘Is that right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied, and told him that I had just spent two hours at work looking for it, and it was impossible to go through the tons of broken glass that was sifted out of the water drains. So I was sorry and nothing would bring it back.

  It was my nineteenth birthday on the eighteenth of November, and as we sat at work and enjoyed the cakes I had bought for it, the girls were singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, but all
the time they sang I was thinking that Barbara celebrated her first birthday five days ago, and wondered how she looked.

  When I got home that night I got the biggest surprise of my life. My dad and Stan had been to see a house that we had enough deposit for, and put an offer in and it was accepted. So they paid the deposit and it was all going through the solicitor’s hand. And the best news was it would be ours signed sealed and delivered in December. They had arranged an appointment with the owners for me to see it that same night. I was so excited. After dinner we piled in dad’s car and Stan drove us to Wigan where the house was. It was a Victorian Terries, with a large bay window. Although it needed a lick of paint everywhere it was structurally sound. I couldn’t wait to get married and move into our own house.

  Stan and I got married on March 2nd 1963. It was recorded the coldest weather for years; the snow drifts were 10 ft high in places. Although the snow had died down where we lived it was still high on the route to the church which was two miles down country roads. We sent nearly one hundred wedding invitations out, but only about sixty attended. Due to the weather, only five of my family from Scotland made it. My auntie Barbra and cousin William and Iris, also my auntie Kate and uncle Pat. It took them over fifteen hours by car, but at least they came and I was so pleased to see them and really grateful for them making that treacherous journey. Especially from Scotland where the snow was even worse. Our wedding went without a hitch and everyone enjoyed themselves.

  Our house was not ready to move into, because the people we were buying off was having one built and wasn’t quite ready. So we had to live with Stan’s sister who also lived in Wigan, until we could move into our own. We were there for two months.

  It was when we moved into our own house I knew my teenage years were nearly over and our new life was about to start.

  After fifty years Stan and I are still together. It’s been a roller coaster, like any other couple with its ups and downs. We had three wonderful children, nine grandchildren, and four wonderful great-grandchildren, and hopefully many more to come. There was only one thing I wanted to know and that was if I did the right thing in giving my daughter Barbara up. I desperately needed to ask her if she blamed me for giving her away. I wanted to be reassured I had done the right thing.

  After years of searching it was Stan who eventually found her whist searching on the internet. We all had a family reunion and I learned I had another three grandchildren. I was relieved to find she had a good childhood with parents that loved her. Although I met her adopted dad I was two years too late to meet her adopted mother.

  Now that I know all my children have settled down and lead a happy life, my life was now complete so Stan and I can now enjoy the rest of our lives together.

  Sadly after writing this book, Stan took ill and passed away. We went through life with all the ups and downs life throws at you, but we stuck together through thick and thin to the end. He was the only man I truly loved, and I miss him every day.

  Copyright

  Published by Clink Street Publishing 2019

  Copyright © 2019

  First edition.

  The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that with which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN:

  978–1–912850–70–9 – paperback

  978–1–912850–71–6 – ebook