by Tania Crosse
‘Just as well I did!’ I retorted. ‘When were you going to tell me? When the bulldozers move in?’
‘Don’t you be so cheeky!’
‘Well, what are you going to do about it? We’ve only got a few weeks to find a new home!’
‘And where do you suggest we go to live?’ he barked at me. ‘It suits me living here, with no one to interfere in my life. I can forget about the past and keep myself to myself. At least I could until you came along. And how am I supposed to get to work from anywhere else? Answer me that, clever brain! Living here, I can just walk to the quarry.’
‘Get a car and drive, like other people do,’ I sighed with exasperation.
‘Drive?’ His eyes suddenly bulged out like a frog’s. It was so frightening that I had already taken a step backwards when he bawled, ‘No! I’ll never drive, not ever!’
His voice crackled viciously, sending an icy shiver through my limbs. I couldn’t understand the fury in his reply, and I wasn’t going to wait for an explanation. I spun on my heel and fled out of the walled garden. I was confused and torn, my anxiety turning to bitterness as I ran down the track, driving my anger into the ground beneath my feet.
‘Where you’m going in such a hurry, maid?’
I almost collided with Barry Coleman as he dropped down onto the track near the farm. He must have been out on the moor checking livestock as he had the two dogs with him. Seeing him at once calmed my irritation with my insufferable father.
‘Oh, nowhere in particular,’ I answered, coming to an abrupt halt.
‘You wants to come in? And, oh, look! We’ve a visitor. That’s Artie’s car.’
Oh, yes! Artie Mayhew, my phantom of the mist. I hadn’t seen him since my very first day at the cottage. ‘Oh, it’ll be lovely to meet him again,’ I said enthusiastically, so glad of something to divert my thoughts.
I followed Barry into the now familiar kitchen, and sure enough, sitting at the table with Nora was the elderly man I had met before. He recognised me straight away.
‘Hello, there. Nice to see you again,’ he smiled. ‘How you getting on?’
‘Fine, thank you. I’ve settled in well. And I’ve got a job in Tavistock. In Woolworths. This is my afternoon off.’
‘Ah, I see,’ he said pleasantly. ‘But you haven’t looked up my brother and his family at all?’
‘Well, no,’ I admitted. ‘To be honest, I’ve been pretty busy. I have lots of new friends here, so I don’t actually find I have that much time.’
‘That’s good, then!’ Artie beamed. ‘And everything’s all right with you, like?’
‘Well, yes, except that I’ve just learnt they’re going to be pulling down the cottages, so we’ll have to find somewhere else to live.’
I wished I hadn’t blurted it out as Artie’s face paled before he gave a forlorn smile. ‘Well, I suppose it had to happen some day. Life moves on, doesn’t it?’
No one knew that better than I did myself, but talking to Artie Mayhew and my good friends, the Colemans, had soothed my agitation. As I walked back to the cottage, I reflected on what Artie had said. Life moves on. Certainly I felt as if I had begun to step out of my grief over Ellen. The peace of the moor had been my salvation, and I didn’t want to go backwards. Sidney, too, had said that he wanted to forget the past. But forget what exactly? That my mother and brothers had been killed over twelve years ago? Surely that was time enough? Not to forget, because you could never do that. But enough to be able to talk to me about them? At least about my brothers. But why he had spoken so bitterly about my mother, I had yet to discover. Now clearly wasn’t the time to press him.
‘Right,’ I announced when Sidney arrived home the following Wednesday evening. ‘We’re moving on Saturday. To Albert Terrace in Princetown. I arranged it all this afternoon.’
‘You’ve done what? What the devil do you think—’
‘Mr Cribbett, you know, the coalman—’
‘Yes, I know perfectly well who he is.’
‘He’s kindly agreed to bring his lorry at two o’clock on Saturday. I’ll be at work, of course, but you won’t. And you can see I had some empty boxes delivered from Bolts, so we can start packing. You can sign the lease on Saturday afternoon when you get there.’
‘Oh, I can, can I?’
Not only had I been practising my opening speech and had spilt it out quite rehearsed, but I was also ready for Sidney’s tirade. I hadn’t lived with him for four and a half months without learning how stubborn and unreasonable he could be wherever I was concerned.
‘Well, one of us had to do something,’ I replied sharply. ‘If we’d waited until we were thrown out, we might not have been able to find anywhere to live. As it is, I’ve found us a nice little terraced house with electric light and running water—’
‘And how do you expect me to afford that?’
I clenched my jaw for a moment, and at my sides, my hands balled into fists as I struggled to contain my resentment. After all the trouble I had been to, I felt galled at Sidney’s ingratitude. ‘I’m sure we can manage,’ I succeeded in saying in a level tone. ‘Other workmen do, and most of them have wives and a clutch of children to support. I don’t know what you do with your wages,’ and indeed I often wondered, ‘but I’m sure you can afford it. I’ll contribute what I can, you know that. Anyway, I don’t see that we’ve much choice, unless you’ve a better idea.’
His eyes had been flaming into mine, but now I saw the muscles about his mouth slacken in defeat. I almost felt sorry for him as relief overtook my own determination.
‘For what it’s worth,’ I admitted in a sympathetic whisper, ‘I’ve really enjoyed living here, too. The peace and quiet have brought me some kind of comfort. Helped me accept my grandmother’s death. And that I had another mother and brothers I never knew about before.’
I saw his eyes flash. It had been a mistake to mention them, and I cursed myself. I must swing the conversation around before he jumped down my throat again, but at the same time, I felt a pang of compassion. ‘Look, we’re in this together. You might even enjoy having people around, and you don’t have to live out of your neighbours’ pockets. I’ve even spoken to the wife of one of your workmates, Mr Mead, and she says she’s sure he’ll give you a lift into work each day.’
I stopped, waiting for his reaction. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he had come back with some cutting response, but he merely raised an eyebrow.
‘You’ve got it all worked out then,’ he observed.
‘It seemed the best thing to do. It’ll be heartbreaking to see this place pulled down, mind. I’ll miss it.’
‘Not as much as I will,’ he moaned.
I’m sure it was true. Though it clawed at my soul to see the humble stone dwellings being turned into uninhabitable shells, it must have been far more hurtful to people like my father and especially Artie Mayhew who had known them as a thriving community. The cottages weren’t totally demolished at first, but were stripped of their roofs and all internal timbers. The granite stones and sections of wall that collapsed in the process were left where they fell, a soulful remnant of the bustling quarrymen’s hamlet.
Though I missed drawing my curtains each morning to the spectacular and treasured views of the moor, life in Princetown had its compensations. As far as the house itself was concerned, although there was no mains gas and I still had to cook on a range, we at least had electric light and an outside flushing lavatory. Once again, we had a parlour that was never used or heated, but the whole house seemed that much warmer. And, of course, the shops were on our doorstep so I didn’t have to lug heavy bags home any more as Sidney always left the purchasing of provisions to me nowadays.
I had just popped into Bolts for some cocoa powder on my first Wednesday afternoon. I had only seen our neighbours on one side, and so when I saw the back of a smartly dressed lady struggling to open the gate on the other side, I was grateful for the opportunity to introduce myself.
‘Oh, let me hel
p you,’ I said, leaping forward eagerly. ‘I’m your new neighbour.’
I dutifully opened the gate, but when the woman turned to thank me, the smile froze on my face. Good Lord, it was the mysterious woman I had met on the bus. I had gone to all those lengths to move next door to her!
‘Oh, hello, my dear,’ she smiled back. ‘How are you? What a lovely surprise!’
‘Er, yes, isn’t it?’ I stammered.
‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’ she went on. ‘Don’t drink tea, do you?’
How on earth did she know that? To my dismay, she must have seen my frown. ‘I overheard you in the shop one day some time ago,’ she laughed. ‘I don’t think you saw me.’
She was looking at me with her head on one side, and I couldn’t help but smile back, even though I still wasn’t sure quite what to make of her.
‘Oh, I see,’ I answered. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I won’t come in. I’ve got to get the dinner ready.’
‘All right, then. But another time. We must be friends.’
Friends? Well, I wasn’t too sure about that!
‘Oh, it’s super havin’ you here in the village!’
Kate waltzed me down the narrow hallway of her house. It was Saturday evening and I’d just got off the train from work. There was a dance at the Town Hall, and I had gone straight to Kate’s house to get ready, having left my change of clothes there the night before. Sidney had complained, but Kate’s mother had convinced him that I wasn’t about to launch myself into a den of iniquity. It wasn’t just a dance for youngsters. People of all ages went to these affairs. When you lived in such an isolated community, this sort of entertainment was seen as a family event, attended by everyone.
‘Look, I got some new lipstick today,’ I said, delving into my bag. ‘What do you think? It’s deep pink rather than red. More subtle, I thought.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s nice! Suits your colourin’. Have all the boys after you!’ Kate teased, grinning broadly.
I shrugged. ‘I’m not interested in boys. I just want to have a good time. Let my hair down, as they say.’
Kate threw me a sideways glance. ‘Oh, come on! We’re all on the lookout for a boy! You can’t tell me you’re any different!’
‘Well, I suppose if the right one came along. But quite honestly, I just want to enjoy myself. My father’s so solemn, it’s just good to get out of the house.’
‘Well, we’ll have to make sure you have a great time tonight, then, won’t we?’
She winked at me, and I gave a wide smile. I was really looking forward to the evening, rather than sitting at home with Sidney. But it was true I wasn’t out to find a boyfriend. I still had a picture in my mind of the young man with the car in Tavistock. Although I had told Jeannie about him, I somehow felt I couldn’t confess my silly daydream to Kate. It was special, and I wasn’t ready to share such things with her.
We had a super time at the dance, though, and I met some of Kate and Sally’s other friends from Princetown. We jitterbugged, hokey-cokeyed and conga-ed to a local band, laughing outrageously. I had a quickstep with Peter, but while he danced the last waltz with Sally, Kate and I partnered each other. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, forgetting for a few hours the stiff and starchy atmosphere in our house in Albert Terrace.
They showed films at the Town Hall as well, twice a week, so I started going there of an evening, either alone or with Kate or Sally, if their homework schedule allowed. So on Wednesday afternoons, instead of going to the cinema in Tavistock, I came straight home and went for a walk on the moor. I always had a particular aim in mind, a tor, a waterfall, or a stone row or circle. I imagined strange, ancient people worshipping the sun that gave them life and the moon that gave them the seasons. Could it possibly be that my neighbour still came out to these places to perform intriguing rituals? I wasn’t sure if I was fascinated or scared. She still seemed so pleasant, and I couldn’t help but like her. She greeted me cheerily whenever I saw her, but I knew little more about her apart from her name, Gloria Luckett, and that she lived alone with – guess what – a black cat!
The second of June that year was, of course, the coronation of Queen Elizabeth the Second, and I was really looking forward to the celebrations Princetown had been planning for months. It wasn’t easy, what with sugar, dairy products and meat still on ration. Sally’s mother had been on the committee, and so for weeks we had heard titbits of tantalising information. When the big day came, though, it was cold and miserable, more like winter than the beginning of summer.
As usual, Sidney was up at the crack of dawn. When I came down, he was reading as he consumed a breakfast of tea and toast, and he looked up at me over his spectacles. No doubt he took a dim view of me coming down late and wearing my dressing-gown, but I wasn’t going to let him spoil my anticipation of a wonderful day.
‘Good morning!’ I smiled, and to my surprise he smiled back. ‘What a pity it’s such a rotten day,’ I said, encouraged. ‘You are coming to the public tea this afternoon, aren’t you?’
‘I think I’ll give it a miss. But you go.’
I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or disappointed. I wouldn’t want to sit with him instead of my friends, but by the same token, it might bring him out of himself if he had people all around. I just couldn’t understand why he seemed to shun company so much.
‘You sure you won’t come? And this morning I’ve been invited to Sally’s house to watch the ceremony on television. They’ve bought one especially. The reception’s terrible here, though, all fuzzy.’
‘Unnatural, that’s why.’
‘Well, yes, maybe. I certainly don’t understand how it works.’ I had been making myself some coffee and now I sat down at the table to drink it. My father seemed in a good mood and I immediately began to wonder if I couldn’t take advantage of it. For six months now I had been biding my time, yearning to find out about my lost family. Well, my brothers, anyway. I’d long given up expecting Sidney to talk about my mother.
‘I was looking at the photographs of Eric and David last night,’ I began tentatively, feeling sweat oozing from my skin. I saw him glance at me daggers and my heart bounced in my chest, but he slowly put down his book. Every nerve in my body stretched.
‘You’re not going to be satisfied until I tell you about them, are you?’
I somehow managed to hold his withering stare, and yet my heart leapt with expectancy. ‘I know it must be painful for you,’ I said with compassion I truly felt, ‘but they were my brothers and it would be nice to know just a little bit about them.’
‘Not much to say, really, when you’re only four and six when you’re killed,’ he answered, bitterness harsh on his tongue. ‘Eric was more serious and very bright, and David was a scamp. They were two lovely little boys, and God took them from me and just left you. Now if you’re satisfied, just leave me alone, will you?’
I lowered my eyes. What had I expected? At least he hadn’t bitten my head off.
‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ I murmured, feeling the heat in my cheeks. ‘Thank you.’
Later, I went off to Sally’s house, trying to hide the hurt inside me. As we watched the black and white images, I gradually began to feel better, marvelling that we could see what was going on nearly three hundred miles away, even if it did look as if it was snowing!
‘Bit like a weddin’, isn’t it?’ Kate said dreamily.
‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ I agreed. ‘But then she’s being married to her role as monarch, I suppose.’
‘Like nuns get married to the church?’
‘Exactly so,’ Sally’s father nodded gravely. ‘Now then, who’s for some lemonade to drink Her Majesty’s health?’
It was the start of more jollifications, and as we all trooped off to the tea later that afternoon, it seemed that everyone from Princetown – except my father – was out to enjoy themselves. We sat at long trestle tables and gorged ourselves on spam and egg sandwiches, jam tarts and fairy cakes that had been cooked by an
army of willing helpers.
‘Proper good spread, that!’ Kate declared, smacking her lips. ‘Now, you comin’ back to my house till the bonfire, Lily?’
‘Oh, yes, please! I don’t fancy going back to my father just yet.’ I didn’t add that, although we hadn’t had words that morning, there had been that unwelcome tension. At long last, I’d learnt just a little about my brothers. I had the feeling I’d never know any more. Had the time come for me to hand in my notice and return to London? No. With Kate and Sally, and all the other friends I had made, I felt this was now my home.
As on hills and high places throughout the country, the inhabitants of Princetown had built a gigantic bonfire that was lit as dusk melted into darkness. People spilt out of every door, cramming the roads, and I was amazed at how many faces I knew, shopkeepers, the men from the railway, prison workers and others who were employed by the Duchy of Cornwall Estates. I spotted Barry Coleman with Mark and Nora and their children and I called across, but they couldn’t hear me above the clamour of hundreds of happy voices. The bonfire crackled and blazed, sending tangerine and russet sparks to snuff themselves out in the sable dome of the sky, all quite magical in the chill June night.
‘When’s they fireworks startin’?’ Kate asked impatiently as she was jostled against me. ‘Cold, innit? Wish we could get nearer that fire, instead of havin’ that silly cordon.’
‘That’s to keep you safe,’ Sally told her, rubbing her hands together. ‘Wish I’d brought some gloves, mind.’
‘Certainly wouldn’t think it was June,’ I agreed. ‘Oh, look!’
The first rocket spiralled into the darkness with a whooshing shriek and exploded in a vault of gold and silver stars that glittered like diamonds as they floated earthwards. The crowd gasped and clapped, all heads turned towards the sky. Another rocket followed, and another, all the colours of the rainbow, emerald, crimson, turquoise and gold, shimmering in the blackness and filling the air with sulphurous smoke. I was sandwiched between my two friends, and the excitement glowing on their faces was reflected in my own heart. I felt happier than at any time since Ellen had died. Nothing could bring her back, but I knew now I could find contentment again.