by John Parker
“Thanks Mum, that’s really helpful. The whole idea sounds intriguing, I can’t wait to make a start. Could you just give me some information to be going on with?”
“Oh! Dear. It would be better to wait and let me think about it properly.”
“Well, just tell me your mother’s maiden name, that would be a start,” wheedled Sue.
“Daniel, surely you already knew that?”
“And when did they marry?” Sue persisted.
“I’ll need to check, just after the turn of the century I think. Look, I’ve got to get your father’s lunch. You won’t have to wait long before I see you.” And with that her mother rang off. Sue decided to write to Uncle Stan, but first, she was like a child, she grabbed the telephone pad and began to sketch out the first, of what would be many, embryo family tree diagrams.
*
Half-term, and not before time from Jo and Katy’s point of view. It wasn’t that they disliked their new school, but the prospect of seeing their cousins again was exciting. Sue was eager to be back in Birmingham because it was home, but now this was reinforced by the exciting prospect of taking her first steps into family history.
*
Wednesday, the second meeting of the sub-committee. Dave was in a more relaxed mood as he had now met his fellow committee members and this time, he had something useful to contribute, in addition to having a better appreciation of the whole problem. Same floor as last time. Express lift for the three of them. Dave had met up with Dorinda McCann and James Collingwood in reception. Henry Fletcher and Joe Griffiths were helping themselves to coffee as they arrived. Pauline Sage followed, laden down with paperwork comprising photocopies of correspondence and other documents which had been generated since their first meeting – so much already! They settled around the table and Henry opened the meeting. Pauline, unconsciously exuding an aura of efficiency, passed around copies of a variety of papers which, Dave noted, all had their assigned document number at the top right hand corner, WW/CSC/1 being the minutes of their first meeting. When the time arrived, as it inevitably would, when the value of this sub-committee’s work was assessed, at least it looked as though they would get good grades for record keeping.
Henry outlined his activities since they last met, which had been largely of a procedural nature. Dorinda McCann reported that she had found nothing of relevance in her literature search. As far as their own investigations were concerned, she would leave that to James to report as he was much closer to the laboratory than herself, these days, she said, adding ruefully that she had been reduced to not much more than a paper shuffler. James explained that he had carried out some crude tests using metal cut from one of the Winford LP turbine discs. These specimens had been subjected to a variety of tests, the results of which were consistent with the earlier suggestion that the turbine disc failure had been the result of stress corrosion cracking. The nods and murmurs of the folk around the table as they scanned the accompanying photographs reflected general assent. James concluded by commenting that their intention was to undertake more detailed testing.
Joe was asked about his research into previous histories of steam turbine failures. He said that though other failures had occurred, none were similar to West Winford. Dave began his report by saying that he was pleased to be able to offer to investigate the steam conditions at Winford to check for contamination. This could begin quite soon as he’d learned that Number 5 turbine was due to have a brief shutdown at the end of the month. The necessary test equipment would be installed during this outage. He surprised the others by adding his intention of including a test vessel in which he could expose specimens to actual West Winford steam. This was welcomed by Henry and the others. Joe thought that such tests would be useful and would complement his laboratory steam-rig tests, which he’d mentioned last time. It would be ideal if they could use similar specimens so that the results from the two tests would be comparable. Before leaving, Dave made arrangements to visit Joe Griffiths in Nuneaton to discuss the specimen design for their tests. A very satisfactory day was Dave’s conclusion as he travelled home.
*
Dave’s first job the following day was to bring his Section Head up to date with the sub-committee developments. Later, with added motivation, he visited Alan Smith to check what progress he had made with the design of the steam test rig. Yet more good news when he learned that everything was on track for the end of month deadline.
Gritty was waiting when Dave returned to his office to report that he had delivered the Winford turbine disc material to the workshop. The design and number of the test specimens seemed to be the next step. Dave had some ideas, but he needed to make the trip up to Nuneaton to discuss his thoughts with Joe Griffiths.
9
Jo and Katy were enjoying their return home, as they still considered it. Snow had arrived with a vengeance and although causing immense problems for commerce, it only added to the fun for the girls. Travelling was difficult, but they were able to visit the local cinema to see ‘Carry on Again Doctor’ as well as calling on old school friends. They were also able to get on to the edge of the local golf course and hone their tobogganing and snowballing skills.
The snow did not hinder Sue as she began her oral family history. Her mother, initially with reluctance, but later with growing interest, informed Sue of her maternal ancestral background. On the face of it this did not appear to offer the promise of high intrigue or adventure, at least at this early stage, as she learned that all of her immediate relatives including her grandparents, had been born in Birmingham. In addition, no family member had moved more than a few miles from their birthplace during their lifetimes and their occupations had been essentially of the manual kind. Sue’s mother had been a Boughton and her maternal grandmother, Florence, had been a Daniel. Sue’s mother had her own parents’ marriage certificate, which, after perhaps a moment’s hesitation, she let Sue have. She also, after a long search, found a box of memorabilia on top of a wardrobe.
As Mrs Turner reminisced her excitement grew and she enthusiastically plucked dog-eared, fading, photographs from the box with appropriate exclamations such as, “Oh! It’s Dot Walker, we used to go to Sunday school together. She was a laugh. Up to all sorts,” or some similar comment. In spite of Sue’s keenness to press on with strictly family matters, she indulged her mother, as it seemed to her a small price to pay in view of the evident pleasure she was deriving. It was a long time since she had last seen her so animated.
“It says here that Granny and Granddad Boughton were married in 1902 and that both of their fathers were named Thomas. Do you know anything about them?” asked Sue.
“No, I never knew my grandparents on the Boughton side. They both died before I was born.”
“No family gossip?” persisted her daughter.
Her mother gazed in front of her, clearly searching her memory. “Well, I seem to recall that my dad was one of about five children, which wasn’t a big family then. They went in for big families in those days you know.”
“What about your mother’s father, the other Thomas?”
“No, he died early as well.”
Sue sighed and carried on looking through some of the other papers spread around her mother’s chair.
“Now your great grandmother, Granny Boughton’s mother, I think that I met her,” announced her mother, as if awaking from a dream. Sue was all ears and asked her what she could remember about this lady. Her mother replied that she only had a very vague memory of an old lady living at the home of one of her uncles.
“I went to visit them with my mother once, a grocer’s shop in Sparkbrook, yes, that’s right. She did seem very old sitting there outside the shop, but I suppose that I was very small, so they all seemed old to me.” Mrs Turner relaxed into the back of her chair as though exhausted from some great effort. Despite her inclination to push forward, Sue realised that this was proving to be something of a trial for her mother and it would be unfair to probe deeper at present. Sh
e thanked her and said what a great help she had been and, whilst her mother rested, Sue picked through the ‘treasure chest’ and put aside some items of particular interest.
Sue’s other planned interview was with her father’s elder brother, Uncle Stan, the following day. This was a case of déjà vu as Sue left her childhood home and walked the half mile along the snow covered pavements to the No.44 bus terminus. Goodness knows how long it had been since she last made the journey. Fifteen? No, sixteen years. Before her marriage this had been her regular route to work, for five years, catching the bus from Lincoln Road North, through Acock’s Green to the Serck factory in Greet. This morning she was travelling further towards the city to the Mermaid pub. She was pleased to find that her mother’s directions were uncomplicated and soon she was being welcomed by her Uncle Stan. Another memory test. This time she reckoned that it had been at least twenty years. Her uncle, though his hair was much greyer, was still tall and upright as he led her into his tiny sitting room, the remnants of cigarette smoke catching her throat. Seeing her expression, he explained that since her Auntie Marion had died, he didn’t need so much room and so he’d done a house swap with a young married couple. The phrase ‘in need of a woman’s touch’ sprang to mind as she surveyed the tell-tale signs of this deficiency.
“Sit yourself down over there by the fire and get thawed,” he said, indicating an arm chair, “brrr, I reckon it’s almost as bad as sixty three. I’ve sorted out as much as I could for you to have a look at.” There was a shoe box near the opposite chair and as he sat down, he announced, “First thing is this.” He passed over a fading sepia photograph. Sue saw that it was a family group comprising two adults seated on chairs. The lady had a baby on her lap. Three other children were present, two in front of the adults, and an older lad, in a huge white collar, standing between.
“I reckon that it was taken about 1904.” Sue looked towards her uncle with expectant interest and he continued, “That’s your Granny and Granddad Turner, with their first four surviving children. Maud is the one on Mum’s lap.” Her uncle paused to light a cigarette.
“Now, although our dad was born in Birmingham, your granny, whose maiden name was Loomes, came from London. She was born in Paddington and they married in Southwark. Our Jim, Clara and I were born in various places around London. Maud and your own dad were born here in Birmingham.
“That’s so interesting.”
“Oh yes, we were forever moving house and there were a few more excursions before we finally settled in Brum. Our Elsie was born in Sheffield and Edgar in Blackpool.” Listening to her uncle, Sue thought that this side of the family appeared to offer more interest than her maternal line. Uncle Stan took out a pencil and, squinting through his tobacco smoke, sketched out a rough family tree from memory, which he passed to Sue. He perched on the arm of her chair and she noticed his hand was trembling as he pointed to his sketch. “Our Jim was born about 1895 and as he was the eldest, I suppose Mum and Dad married around 1894, which means, I reckon, they would have been born, what, in the early 1870s?” Her uncle’s knees cracked as he returned to his seat.
“What were they like?”
“Well me and your father you know about. We worked together with Dad for a long time – various engineering firms. I suppose Maud had the brains in the family and she was very artistic, good at drawing and such. Took after Mum’s side of the family, she did. Mum was very artistic too.”
“Oh! That’s interesting. Jo, our eldest, is good at art. She’s hoping to go to Art College after school, assuming that she passes her ‘A’ levels. Do you know anything about your grandparents?” Sue’s optimism was rising.
“I only really remember Dad’s mum,” her uncle broke into a fit of coughing, but retained the remnants of his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “She was called Emma Perkins. The others were all dead, or near enough, when I was born.” As he talked, her uncle continued leafing through his box and, after a cursory glance, he laid the various items aside. “Ah! Yes. On Mum’s side, the Loomes – it was a big family I believe – Mum was the eldest girl and was named Caroline after her mother, but second names were becoming popular amongst ordinary folk just then and so she was Caroline Jane.”
Sue was busily noting down all her Uncle said in a hurried scribble. “So my great grandmothers were named Emma Perkins and Caroline something who married a Loomes. That’s so useful. Thank you so much, this is just the sort of thing I need in order to get copies of their birth certificates, unless you’ve got them that is?”
“No ’fraid not. Maybe your Auntie Clara had, but I don’t doubt that she’d have kept them well hidden.”
Sue’s uncle then offered her tea and she accepted, but insisted he stayed in his chair whilst she did the honours. Later, she bade him a grateful and fond farewell, promising to visit again once she’d progressed their family tree. She felt that she had achieved more than she could have hoped for from her visit. She was in high spirits when she returned through the slush to her parents.
*
Half-term over. Time to collect the family. The journey hadn’t been difficult as the road-gritters had finally got themselves organised after a week of traffic chaos. Dave parked outside the nineteen thirties semi; the headquarters of the Turner dynasty. After a brief chat with his father-in-law, he was treated to another tour around the house to approve the latest decorations.
“Is it your lot who’ve been causing a stir around here with this rumour of an atomic power station to be built at Stourport?” asked his father-in-law.
“No it’s the utility who have applied for planning permission, but you’re not on your own, they’ve also applied for one near Chepstow.”
“Well, I dunno where it will all end. There’s enough funny folk around here as it is without any little green men turning up.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much just yet. There’s a long way to go before any permission will be given, if ever.”
After tea, Dave and Sue left to make their next stop at ‘Uncle’ Barry’s, to collect Jo and Katy. It was only after promising to return soon, that the Harrisons were able to make good their escape. Even that did not prevent Katy’s sniffles for a mile or so. The chance of another trip to Birmingham would suit Sue as she could look forward to delving further into her family history. Working around the girls’ schooling would be the main obstacle.
Settling back as they made their way southwards down the Fosse Way, Sue gave Dave a summary of her chat with her mother and Uncle Stan. Naturally this had to be interwoven with equally enthusiastic reports from the girls on their perambulations during the week, including the dubious claim of fabricating the world’s biggest snowball. Difficult to verify was their father’s opinion now that the thaw had set in. Dave thought that Sue’s research seemed to have been successful as she told him that she had obtained information about her grandparents and some on her great, grandparents.
“Well, that’s good after just one trip,” he encouraged.
So, for the Harrison clan this had been a particularly agreeable week. In the case of both adults, jobs well done.
10
Sue, alone again, stared at the phone. Following the excitement of the previous week she was feeling her isolation more keenly. She had spent part of the morning sketching out another family tree diagram with her newly acquired information added. She couldn’t wait to make another trip home to glean further details. She was keen to chat about her early results with someone – anyone. She felt so energised, almost bursting with excitement, although she realised that she was being childish. Oh! To hell with it.
“Hello, Peter? Is that you?”
He confirmed his identity and his pleasure at hearing from her. Sue related her family history finds with hardly a pause for breath. Peter congratulated her on what he thought was great progress. He suggested that her next step would be to obtain copies of each grandparent’s birth certificate and to do that would probably require a visit to London.
*
“Mum! Guess who has come to live near us,” cried Katy excitedly as she charged into the house making Sue jump. Jo followed at the more dignified pace befitting her developing maturity. Sue, startled from her reverie, asked what all the fuss was about. Katy explained that the house along the lane that had been empty for a while had been bought by the Potters. Her mother’s puzzled look prompted Katy to explain that it was Rosy Potter’s family. “My best friend from school. They moved in over half-term.” It will be nice for Katy to have someone to play with locally, Sue thought. Katy happily agreed and said that she had invited Rosy over after tea. Maybe her brother Sam may come as well. He was in Jo’s class.
“He better not,” said Jo, “he’s a real swot.”
“Well we all know you’d rather it was the luscious hunk Simon Heath who’d moved here don’t we?”
The interested observer would be forgiven for concluding that there was some truth in Katy’s remark from her sister’s, less than dignified, reaction. A lightning lunge, a dodge, a flurry and weave followed by a race upstairs, finally rounded off by a slamming of doors.
*
Dave had escaped the confines of his office. He was on the Fosse Way again but this time travelling northwards on his way to visit Joe Griffiths in Nuneaton. Joe represented his company, who were the manufactures of the steam turbines at West Winford. Dave had been eagerly awaiting this meeting. It was the next logical step along his test-programme flow chart.
He put his foot down. Dave liked the Fosse Way. The good old Romans knew how to build roads, they didn’t give a bugger about planning permission or public enquiries – straight as a die. The only slight irritations were the increasing number of main roads to cross as he got further north. This however, did nothing to spoil his buoyant mood. He reflected that this was almost a permanent state these days and little wonder. Everything was going so well. He loved his job, the personal freedom he enjoyed to get on with it without the continual necessity of seeking approval. This was so different to Fisher’s Tubes, where his time and his work method had been strictly controlled. There was also the increased status. He mixed freely with his managers and had personal dealings with senior people at the various locations. Added to this was the interaction with his highly respected and renowned co-workers on the Corrosion Sub-Committee. On the home front, Jo and Katy had settled much better than he had anticipated. It had been an added bonus that the Potters had moved into the village. Sue, though a little down to start with, now seemed in a better frame of mind since meeting Pam and taking up her family history quest. As for the location, he had known from the outset that for him it was a dream come true; living in a rural setting had been a long held ambition.