by Brian Darley
Back at home we had a really great and happy time and as the day progressed other friends, family and neighbours popped in to wish us well after they had finished work. The real surprise package was Jill’s Mum. She seemed to really be in the spirit of things and was a great help to my Mum. Daisy followed Jill’s every step and I felt certain she now regarded Jill as her big sister. When everybody had gone poor Jill was absolutely shattered, it had been quite a day and she had eaten not only for two, but more like two dozen. I wondered where she had put all the food as she was really tall and slim before her pregnancy had somewhat changed her shape, but my word she stole the show alright. We snuggled down in each others arms in bed as we had an early start the next day. We were going on honeymoon to South Wales by train. We had gambled that baby McFirley wouldn’t say hello to the world ahead of schedule but babies could be unpredictable couldn’t they? That night I hardly slept a wink, I just wanted to cuddle Jill and feel our baby move inside her tummy. She had made all my dreams come true and it was so obvious that everybody really liked her and thought we belonged together.
CHAPTER 37
Leeks and Daffodils
Saturday 5th August 1967 and the alarm bell gives a really tinny ring and wakes us newly weds at 6.30 but nothing could have ruined our first night together as husband and wife. Neither of us were virgins but in fact we spent almost the entire night cuddling, although I had to admit it was a bit of a stretch to reach around Jill’s tummy as baby McFirley was growing wildly inside of her. Mum cooked us a lovely fried breakfast and Dad came and collected us in the coal lorry to take us to the station but he had put an old blanket across the bench passenger seats so as to try and keep us a little clean, but nevertheless we were going to South Wales, the land of coal mines, so I don’t suppose us smelling like a coal yard would have been much out of place. Our adventure was about to start as I struggled up the station steps with our old and borrowed brown suitcases. Jill was no help at all but then I suppose she had a valid reason bless her.
Our journey began on a cross country train ride to Reading, a journey which took almost two hours and when we arrived there we had a 40 minute wait for the express train which would take us to Swansea. It seemed as though we were going to the other side of the world.
My word, we were living it up as we went to the buffet for tea and sandwiches. We were like two teenagers on life’s biggest adventure which, in reality, I still was, although for the first time in my life I felt like a real adult man with responsibilities and boy was I ready for them!
As we waited for our train I stood there in amazement as the announcer called out the destinations and I so wished I had been there in my train spotting heyday but instead I was so happy to be standing there proudly as a married man with my lovely wife and our baby soon to be on the way. I couldn’t have felt happier, all was perfect in my world. Everywhere seemed like another planet. When finally our train arrived it was all so exciting and our train soon gathered speed taking us through the Berkshire and Wiltshire countryside until we arrived at the impressive railway town of Swindon. Our train seemed to travel so fast and it wasn’t too long before we descended into the four mile long Severn Tunnel and when we arrived in daylight at the far side we were in Wales. This was my first ever time out of England and it was so exciting my stomach had butterflies. Jill shared my excitement as she had never been to Wales before although she had visited many countries owing to her Dad’s army career. Jill had previously told me that she had been born in Toronto Canada, but she couldn’t remember a thing as her family had moved on while she was still very young. Her best words to me were “I don’t care where I’ve been before it’s now that matters to me and I have never ever been so happy”. My mind was in a daze as we passed firstly Newport, then Cardiff and headed for Swansea. As the journey progressed Jill started complaining of stomach and back pains but I made light of things by reminding her that she had eaten enough sandwiches, pork pies and scotch eggs to feed the British Army. This made her laugh but the pains didn’t subside and I began to put two and two together and come up with the same question ….. was baby on the way?
Luckily as we pulled into Swansea station our carriage door was directly opposite the exit and miraculously Jill somehow managed to waddle to the taxi rank and I struggled with our cases and I must have resembled an overloaded pack horse. Once Jill stretched out in the back of the taxi, thankfully her pains eased and it was about a twenty minute drive to the caravan park which was to be our home for the next week. The taxi driver dropped us at van 28 and the keys were in the door waiting for us. There was no sign of the owner but we had already sent our money by postal order so it was no great surprise. Our caravan was really lovely and designed for six people so there was more than enough room for us two. Whilst Jill unpacked I went to the nearby camp shop to get some basic food items, bread, milk, tea and coffee etc., but when I returned Jill was screaming with pain. Both of us decided it was time to call an ambulance just to be on the safe side. I scrambled some loose coins together and eventually I found a phone box and made the call. I had barely got back to the caravan when the ambulance arrived. The ambulance driver said Jill would be taken straight to the maternity unit at the county hospital as our baby was on the way. Talk about tension, the ambulance really got a shift on and we arrived at the hospital within minutes which was just as well as baby McFirley arrived into the world fifteen minutes later, feet first. I wasn’t present at the birth as there was a chance of complications but fortunately all was well. Seeing Jill’s smiling face as she held our baby girl proudly was a memory to treasure forever and it was so hard to imagine what Jill had just been through as she looked as fresh as a daisy and so contented.
Being aware that Jill needed to rest I didn’t stay for long and made my way back to the caravan to begin my first attempt at cooking for myself and luckily caught the butcher as he was about to close the shop for the night. Liver and bacon was the easy option, I had seen Mum do it hundreds of times and I was fairly successful considering it was my first attempt. Immediately after I had eaten my dinner I had the dubious pleasure of letting Jill’s parents know the news. My thoughts were ‘what if poor Angela answers the phone’? Luckily as the phone was picked up and I pressed button A the first voice I heard was Jill’s Mum’s. She sounded over the moon and asked me to wait whilst she got a pen and paper to write down the details of where we were staying. I only assumed that Jill’s father wasn’t within earshot as there seemed no tension whatsoever in her voice. Unfortunately there was no way of letting my folks know as nobody around our area had a phone, we were still paupers in some respects. There also seemed no point whatsoever in writing to tell them the news as we would probably be home before the letter had arrived.
Sleeping alone in a caravan seemed really creepy, it was lashing down with rain and it seemed the van was about to go into orbit with every gust of wind. I hardly slept but I’m not sure whether that was down to the weather conditions or my sheer excitement. I was on cloud nine. Daylight dawned and I knew this was the start of what was going to be a very peculiar day. Visiting wasn’t until the evening, although I was told I would be able to ring early morning and check all was okay, which gladly it was.
Around 9.30 I was just about to fry eggs and bacon for breakfast when there was a couple of soft taps on the caravan door. The nature of these taps didn’t indicate anything was wrong and surprise surprise, when I opened the door, Jill’s Mum was standing there. She had been travelling since the early hours to get down to us. She gave me a congratulatory hug and then joked it was lucky for me that she only had two daughters. This put me somewhat at ease and I could tell she cared more about Jill’s happiness than what neighbours and family would think. Immediately she took control of everything which, although I found somewhat interfering, certainly made my life a whole lot easier. She told me she would stay for a few days in the caravan which fortunately was large enough to get lost in and she also wanted to cook for me and do the shopping in
her car, which made me feel utterly useless but she enjoyed helping and it was only for a while. That evening we visited Jill and I made a lame excuse that I was going to the League of Friends shop which gave them some Mum and daughter time together. By the time I returned the babies had been brought into the ward from the nursery and it looked so sweet to see our, so far unnamed, little girl lying in her plastic cot with a pink label tied to it which just said ‘Baby McFirley’. When the subject of a name cropped up I was somewhat taken aback when Jill said she would love to choose. This way way out of character for soft spoken Jill but I loved her so much I would have agreed if she had wanted to call the baby Maud or Gladys. Jill’s words would remain etched on my brain forever as she said “as she was born in Wales lets give her a real Welsh name”. “I propose we name her Gwyneth after that lovely sounding lady who looked after you and who I know will always hold a special place in your heart”. What a great name and what a great idea as little McFirley was officially from the land of leeks and daffodils. We told our decision to the ward sister who promptly filled in a new label and tied it to little Gwyn’s cot.
Back at the caravan, to say the least, I was fairly uncomfortable about making conversation with my new Mum-in-law but fortunately she made things as easy as pie. She had brought some beers and because there was no tele we played cards which was to be the norm until Friday when Jill was allowed to leave hospital. Typical Welsh weather was the order of the week so we spent most days sight-seeing from the car but it was a nice if, somewhat, strange way for us to get to know each other. This was a honeymoon with a difference! Not once did she mention Stan or Angela and I felt she must have been as uncomfortable as I was and my heart went out to her but she was making a real effort and I was beginning to really like her.
Friday arrived and at 2 o’clock my Mum-in-law and I went to the maternity ward as proud as anyone could possibly be and as we walked into the ward my Mum-in-law linked arms with me, which must have made Jill so happy. Baby Gwyneth was carried to the door by the ward sister which was the protocol in those times and when it was time to hand her over it just seemed so natural to let Jill’s Mum take her and it was all the more worthwhile as her emotions spilled over. Her eyes were so happy but full of tears and her smile said everything. We were in no doubt she totally supported us. That evening at the caravan it was a rather unusual state of affairs to say the very least. Little one slept, Jill was totally whacked out whilst her mother and I drank and played cards. Much later I was to find out that the evening we had spent had made Jill feel so relaxed. She loved her Mum so much and I could see why. On Saturday morning Jill’s Mum drove us to Swansea station and we all said an emotional farewell. We had no idea at the time that we would be meeting up every two months but there was a real warmth and pleasantness about our goodbyes. Our train arrived and I carried our suitcases into the carriage. We had somewhat more luggage on our return journey, namely a baby and we waved farewell as we made the long journey to Reading where we had to change for our slow trek across country. Jill was taking to motherhood like a duck to water and I sat opposite her as proud as punch watching her feed baby Gwyn from a bottle and then help bring her wind up. Somehow I wondered if I would be half as competent when I took my shift at bottle feeding. To say I had serious doubts would be the understatement of the century. We decided to push the boat out and get a taxi from the station which was quite extravagant as it was only a few minutes walk, but we had suitcases and a new addition and a taxi made things much more simple.
Mum had seen the taxi draw up and had left the front door open so I walked in first as though nothing had happened. Daisy gave the game away by announcing Jill had a baby in her arms. Mum rushed out and totally ignored me, the tears were streaming from her eyes. Excitement filled the house as two minutes later Dad got home from work and despite his ailing health took Gwyn in his arms which made her beautiful white baby clothes filthy from the coal dust but nobody cared, we were all as happy as Larry. Mum and Dad got Daisy’s old pram in from the shed and gave it a dusting down and to everybody’s surprise it came up remarkably clean. Families around our way only did second hand. Daisy, Mum and Jill took Gwyn for her first trip around the Arches and Dad took me to the pub for a celebration drink where the landlord questioned my age but when Dad pointed out we were celebrating me becoming a father he decided to turn a blind eye. We stayed an hour and returned home but the girls were still out, all four of them, doing a tour of the Arches. Somehow I doubted if baby Gwyn would be that impressed but this was reality, the rows of poor housing, the smoke from the factories and the uneven pathways but thankfully she was too young and innocent to realise the hardships of this part of town.
During the next month Daisy did her utmost to wear the pram tyres out, she spent every spare second she had pushing Gwyn around the block and it was lovely to see my little sister so happy as I had often felt that I had perhaps ignored her at times and not been the best of brothers.
CHAPTER 38
Promises Kept
Settling down to my new family life was made all the more simple owing to the fact we were still living at my place, although we desperately wanted somewhere of our own, but this wasn’t a remote possibility for a while owing to my tender young age. I had approached the council previously regarding the possibility of a mortgage and because I had worked there from day one they were willing to bend the rules somewhat when I became 18. The Parks Superintendent had put a good word in for me and it was obvious I had done well as he had put me up to full gardener’s money which was a fair bit more than I was earning as a trainee.
Home arrangements were fairly simple. Jill would return to Woollies part-time while Mum looked after Gwyneth. Mum and Jill would share the cooking, washing and housework, I would still help Dad on Sunday’s and I also took on a 6 day week paper round which I did before work. Food bills were to be split 50/50 but Jill and I would live rent free in order to help us get a good start in life. Needless to say we never mentioned the lump sum we already had in the bank courtesy of Jill and Angela’s Dad.
Everything was going great apart from two things. Firstly our privacy, which limited our chances of making baby number two, which we both wanted to happen so quickly so as Gwyneth would have a brother or sister to grow up with and secondly, very worryingly, was Dad’s declining health.
The first problem was easily solved though as we had a supermarket in our town and as Jill drove us to do the shopping, we would tear around Fine Fare and then park up in a lovers lane and make love in the back of her car, which was even better than in our early days and we both felt extremely naughty.
Poor old Dad’s health was deteriorating by the day and although he or Mum never muttered a word it was blatantly obvious that all was not well. On the last Saturday in October 1967 I came home from playing football. Village green football kicked off at 2 o’clock owing to the lack of floodlights so I sat down with a cuppa and listened to the professional teams results on the wireless and I began to wonder just what might have been. Poor Dad sat on the settee and looked totally worn out and it was hardly surprising. He had left school at 14, trained for a job in the city, left and fought for his country, had married Mum, adopted Daisy and myself and worked his bollocks off to support us, not to mention the smoking, boozing and coal dust. To my total amazement Dad still got up to do the Sunday morning overtime of bagging up coal and as usual I went to help him. It took us forever to get there as he had to keep stopping for breath but somehow we managed to get the normal amount of work done. On the way home Dad decided not to pop in for a pint, which was the biggest indication of all that he was really rough. That evening, as we all watched tele, he seemed to want to hold baby Gwyn and cuddle Daisy at every opportunity and a black cloud came over me as I began to fear the worst but somehow I managed to keep my feelings to myself and prayed for a minor miracle.
First thing on Monday morning I went downstairs at 6 o’clock as usual ready for my paper round and Dad had made us a pot of tea and
some toast and I was flabbergasted that he was going to go to work. After delivering my papers my main job for the day was to clear out a large brick flowerbed at the entrance to the Arches and replant it with wall flowers ready for the next spring time. Most of the cleaning out was done so I sat on the wall and had my sandwiches and a cup of stewed tea from my vacuum flask. Suddenly I heard the toot toot of a lorry and as I looked up I noticed Dad driving the bright red coal lorry with his mate Roy in the passenger seat riding shotgun. However bad Dad was feeling he never spared me the obligatory abuse as he shouted “you won’t get it done by sitting on your arse drinking tea”. I just smiled and continued eating my sandwiches.
After my break I started setting out the wall flowers for planting and the foreman dropped by in his mini van to check if I needed anything. Just as he left Dad’s mate Roy came tearing up in the coal lorry and in a panicking voice he told me Dad had collapsed and been taken by ambulance to the County Hospital. I jumped in the lorry and Roy drove like a maniac to the hospital without uttering a word and I was extremely scared. As we pulled up outside of the Casualty Department I flung the door open and raced inside through the smell of ether and past the depressing sight of the lattice gate to the lift, it all looked so gloomy. I asked the first nurse I saw if she knew anything about the coal man who had just been admitted. She disappeared and, after what seemed like forever, the ward sister came but her calm manner answered all my questions before they were even asked. She asked if I was his next of kin and shaking like a leaf I told her Mum was and did she want me to get her. The sister said there was no time as Dad was terribly ill and I must prepare myself for the worst. She said if I wanted to see him I should do it now and say anything I needed to as there would be no time for regrets. So with a heavy heart I let her lead me to him and as she pulled the screen aside I was surprised to see Dad looking quite peaceful and when I spoke he just about managed to open his eyes. He somehow muttered to me about going to find baby Stan so Mum could see him and I told him I couldn’t. He asked me why and with a huge lump in my throat I said “because I gave the Honour of the Line”. He seemed to find comfort from my reply and as he gave me the briefest of smiles he slowly closed his eyes for the final time.