Changing Times

by Jack Sheffield

  He smiled at the thought of meeting Rose for lunch in the Coffee Shop, followed by an afternoon playing cricket for Easington School. Freddie had been made captain of the team, the first time a pupil had captained both the rugby and cricket teams. As an attacking batsman and a ferocious fast bowler, he was a formidable all-rounder.

  He wound down the window and let the breeze blow his wavy blond hair. Around him the countryside was waking once again. Spring had touched the land with soft fingertips and the sticky buds on the horse chestnut trees were cracking open, while rooks cawed in the high elms. On Ragley High Street primroses brightened the grassy banks and, across the village green, the flower tubs outside The Royal Oak were bright with colour.

  Back in Laurel Cottage Lily was sitting at her bureau and reading the letter she had written the previous weekend to Rudolph Krüger. She had wanted to leave it for a few days before posting it so that she could think over what she had said. She had chosen her words carefully and, when she looked at it again, she was happy with the result.

  Laurel Cottage, High Street, Kirkby Steepleton, YORK, North Yorkshire.

  4th April 1964

  Dear Rudi,

  You will no doubt be surprised to receive this letter. Much has changed since I last wrote to you with Freddie’s school photograph and I had to get in touch.

  There is no need to worry. Freddie is well. You would be proud of him. He is working hard at school and is excelling in sport. You may recall all those years ago when you saw him play cricket at six years of age. He is still playing cricket every Saturday and is captain of his team.

  Freddie is a tall, good-looking young man and looks just like you. It is this likeness that caused him to discover that his past is not what he has been brought up to believe.

  By accident he found the photograph of you and the other prisoners of war taken in 1944 on the farm in Amersham that you sent to me. He immediately recognized your similarity to him and his questions compelled me to tell him the truth of his history and the fact that you are his father.

  He is confused and angry, not with anyone but me, it would seem, but I have to accept that. He wants to meet you and so, unbeknown to me, travelled to Hamburg; he found your address on the letter that was with the photograph. He made the journey ten days ago when, according to a neighbour, you were away on business. He introduced himself as a relative from England, which you may already know about.

  He desperately wants to meet you. I know that I cannot hide from the past any longer and that I must help him fulfil his wish.

  I think the time has come for us to do this together, Rudi. Can you come to England to see Freddie? I hope that you will consider this carefully as it is so important to him.

  Don’t worry about Tom. He is fully behind me in writing to you. Please get in touch to let me know your thoughts. I understand that this will be difficult for you too. But I hope that it is something you can do for our son.

  With kind regards,

  Lily

  She sealed the envelope and put it in her handbag.

  It was shortly after twelve o’clock when Freddie left the Hardware Emporium and walked into the Coffee Shop. Rose was already there and she smiled up at him. On the jukebox the Bachelors were singing their latest hit, ‘I Believe’.

  He waved. ‘Coffee and a sandwich?’

  She nodded, her eyes bright with anticipation.

  ‘Two coffees please, Nora, and two ham sandwiches.’

  ‘Ah’ll bwing ’em over, Fweddie,’ said Nora.

  He sat down. ‘So, how’s things?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine, apart from revision every evening. It’s getting close now.’

  Freddie reached over to hold her hand. ‘We’ll be in the middle of it next month.’

  ‘Hard to believe it’s come round so quickly. Did you know I’ve got three Art exams? Each one lasts three hours. There are two practicals, one with oils, plus a written paper. I’m up to my ears with Italian Renaissance painters.’

  ‘Can’t help you with that, I’m afraid. What about History?’

  ‘We’ve been doing practice essays on the Napoleonic Wars, so it’s dates and battles and more dates.’

  ‘Well, English should be fine. It’s your best subject.’

  Rose gave Freddie a wry smile. ‘And yours, of course.’

  Freddie shrugged his shoulders.

  The coffee arrived and Rose became thoughtful. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘How about during these next few weeks we agree to meet just on Saturdays? Some last-minute revision could make all the difference.’

  Freddie could see the logic of this, but was unwilling to commit immediately. ‘Only Saturdays?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But I’m in the hardware shop in the mornings and playing cricket during the afternoons.’

  ‘Good, I’ll come and watch you and then we can celebrate you scoring runs and taking wickets.’

  Freddie nodded in reluctant agreement and they began to eat their sandwiches.

  Around them the tables were filling with the lunchtime regulars. The Walmsley twins were eating sausage rolls at a corner table with their mother. The boys were sharing their sixpenny TV Comic, featuring Fireball XL5, Popeye and The Range Rider.

  On her usual table in the far corner, Wilhemena Hardcastle, the portly, domineering president of the Women’s Institute, was sitting with some of her followers. She was holding forth about how she missed the tranquillity of Doris Clutterbuck’s Tea Rooms. It was the afternoon of the WI Spring Fair in the village hall and she was rallying support.

  Wilhemena was red in the face as she sipped her camomile tea. Unknown to her husband, George, she had spent seventy-five shillings on a Scheerskin Cinch-Waist Corselette. It claimed to have 60 per cent more control and to smoothe away midriff bulges, but it didn’t appear to be working. With an attempt to get comfortable and a scathing look at the clientele around her, she proceeded to devour a chocolate eclair.

  Rose had finished her sandwich and looked up at Freddie with a new intensity. ‘Did you know Sam and Joy have split up?’

  Freddie almost knocked over the bottle of tomato sauce. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  Rose frowned. ‘I thought you would have known as you’re his best friend.’

  ‘It’s because I haven’t seen him to catch up, but he’ll be at the cricket this afternoon.’

  ‘It was Joy who broke up with him.’

  ‘Has she found somebody else?’

  ‘No.’ Rose looked concerned. ‘I know she really loves him, but she thinks he doesn’t feel the same way about her. Between you and me, I think she’s hoping he will come to his senses and ask her out again.’

  Freddie thought this was unlikely and gave a non-committal shrug. With regard to affairs of the heart, he decided caution was the best response to his perceptive girlfriend.

  Next to the jukebox, Little Malcolm Robinson was sitting at a table with his new girlfriend, Rita Eckinthorpe from the fish-and-chip shop. They were enjoying bacon butties and two large mugs of sweet tea.

  Last night they had gone to see the film Zulu, starring Michael Caine and Stanley Baker, who in the thrilling battle scenes had faced overwhelming odds at the Battle of Rorke’s Drift.

  ‘Ah liked that Michael Caine,’ said Rita.

  The actor was tall, blond and good-looking, whereas Little Malcolm was short with dark hair and a face like a bull terrier. Even so, Rita, with her glass eye, still believed that in a certain light he had the look of a rugged Charlton Heston.

  ‘’E were all right, ah s’ppose,’ said Malcolm grudgingly.

  ‘An’ ah liked ’is uniform, all red an’ smart.’

  ‘’E’d ’ave been too ’ot ah reckon. It’s sunny in Africa.’ Little Malcolm looked into her good eye and said softly, ‘Ah think a lot about you, Rita.’

  ‘Do you now?’ She fixed him with a glassy stare. She knew when a man was after something.

  ‘Ah
was wond’rin’ if y’fancied callin’ in t’night after you’ve finished work.’

  ‘Mebbe ah will an’ mebbe ah won’t.’ Rita didn’t like to be taken for granted. She looked at the clock. ‘Anyway, m’shift starts soon. We better be off.’

  Big Dave was sitting outside in the bin wagon and started the engine when he saw his diminutive cousin and his tall, stick-thin girlfriend. He was fed up acting as their chauffeur and decided he would mention to Malcolm that her previous boyfriend had popped his clogs down an open cellar door outside the Rat and Trap pub in Thirkby. There was more to Rita than met the eye.

  Later that afternoon the village hall was a hive of activity. Doris Clutterbuck had been invited to judge the best cake competition. The winner was Valerie Flint, the part-time teacher who in the past used to help John Pruett, and Doris wrote on the first prize postcard, ‘This cake was obviously made with love.’

  As always, Vera won the best marmalade competition and Joyce Davenport, the doctor’s wife, was awarded an unexpected third prize for her fruit scones. Joyce had never won a prize before and she was so excited that evening that her husband was contemplating giving her something to calm her down.

  There were a few mutterings when Deirdre Coe won a second prize for her plate of ginger biscuits, as their regular size suggested they had come straight from a packet.

  That apart, it was a successful afternoon and Vera returned to the vicarage and the fragrant scent of hyacinths in her kitchen.

  On Monday morning Lily arrived at school for the first day of the summer term and met Ruby in the entrance hall.

  ‘Mornin’, Mrs Feather; nit nurse is ’ere.’

  ‘Good morning, Ruby; thanks for letting me know. Is Mrs Trott not here?’ Lily was aware that the Ragley caretaker’s arthritic condition was worsening.

  ‘No, it were ’er ’usband’s birthday party las’ night an’ they got through a bottle o’ gin, so ah’ve ’eard.’

  ‘Oh dear, so is she unwell?’

  ‘M’mother said she’d drunk ’erself into Bolivia.’

  Lily thought that was a long way to go for a hangover, but merely nodded in understanding and hurried into school.

  When she walked into the office Vera was at her desk reading a letter from the college in York.

  ‘Good morning, Lily; you will be interested to hear that the college have confirmed the placement of a student here.’ She continued to scan the letter. ‘And there’s a request for your age group.’

  ‘Yes, I remember John agreed we would take one. Who is it?’

  ‘A young lady named Miss Nobbs. It’s her final teaching practice. She has an introductory visit on Wednesday the twenty-ninth of this month and then she’ll be with us after the spring bank holiday for a few weeks. According to this she is an outstanding student.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Lily. ‘Just what we need,’ although her mind was elsewhere.

  Vera was ever perceptive. ‘How are you today?’

  Lily sighed. ‘Perhaps we can talk later.’

  Vera smiled. ‘Of course,’ and returned to the morning’s letters.

  Although Lily was preoccupied, throughout the day she threw herself into her work. The Music and Movement radio broadcast was always a joy, with the children dancing freely in their bare feet. Likewise, the Singing Together programme included sea shanties and traditional folk songs, and John Pruett paused in his spelling test to listen to the sweet sound of Lily singing, ‘Oh, soldier, soldier, won’t you marry me?’

  Meanwhile, the school nurse was busy with her nit comb. A line of apprehensive children queued up in front of her. However, she was a friendly soul who genuinely liked children, unlike some of the fearsome ones of the past. She was a regular visitor, providing routine eye and hearing tests and working alongside the school dentist. Before she left she spoke with John and Lily to confirm a date to administer a polio vaccine.

  ‘We give it to them on a sugar lump these days,’ she added with a smile.

  At morning break Lily was on duty. She watched a groups of girls skipping.

  They chanted in unison:

  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,

  All good children go to heaven.

  A penny on the water, twopence on the sea,

  Threepence on the railway and out goes she!

  As she stood there drinking her coffee, Mrs Poskitt arrived with a bottle of medicine for her son, Trevor.

  ‘I’ll hand this in to Miss Evans, shall I?’ she said to Lily. ‘It’s for his cough.’

  ‘Yes, please, and I’ll make sure he gets it.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Feather, much appreciated.’ As she walked towards the entrance porch she turned. ‘My Trevor’s really looking forward to coming up into your class in September. We’re lucky to have you.’

  Anita Swithenbank was standing alongside. ‘She’s right, Miss. He’ll love being in Class Two.’

  When the bell rang for the end of break Lily was left to ponder Tom’s decision to apply for the chance of promotion in Durham. She watched the children scamper up the steps and into school.

  Leaving Ragley would break her heart.

  At lunchtime Vera put on her coat and set off out of school to take the dinner money to the Post Office. Lily was leaning on the wall deep in thought.

  ‘A penny for them, Lily.’

  Lily sighed. ‘Tom’s considering a new job.’

  ‘Promotion?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It had to happen, Lily. He’s a very talented policeman.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not here.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’

  ‘It’s up in Durham.’

  ‘A beautiful cathedral city,’ said Vera softly.

  ‘I’ve not mentioned it to John.’

  ‘That’s wise, especially as he’s in one of his taciturn moods at present. He was disappointed you didn’t go on the teaching course with him last Friday.’

  ‘That’s when Tom broke the news.’

  ‘So how do you feel about it?’

  ‘We haven’t made the commitment yet.’

  ‘Are you reluctant?’

  ‘A little.’ Lily looked around at the school and the village green. There was fresh growth on the weeping willow tree and new life in the village pond. ‘This is my home, my school. It’s where my friends are.’

  ‘All good things come to an end, Lily. Maybe this is your time.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Tom will want to know you’re with him on this.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He has always supported you in the past. We both know that.’

  When Vera walked across the village green she glanced back as a shaft of sunlight lit up the school with Lily still deep in thought. It was an image she would never forget.

  When Tom arrived home that evening he went upstairs to get changed. Lily followed him into the bedroom and sat down. ‘So, how did it go?’

  ‘I posted it this morning.’

  ‘I had time to think it through while I was at school today.’

  Tom looked anxious. ‘And?’

  ‘It’s a difficult decision.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go ahead without you by my side, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, I do. It’s been on my mind most of the day, but I’ve been a teacher at Ragley for ten years and I know I’ve served the school well. It would break my heart to leave the children and particularly my friends on the staff, but I’ll support you in this, Tom. I know it’s important. So that’s my decision.’

  He smiled and gave her a hug.

  ‘One more thing,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I think you need to tell Freddie you’ve written to his father.’

  Other decisions were made that evening.

  Joy Popplewell was determined not to ask Sam Grundy to pick up where they left off. Even so, she missed his strong physique and careless extravagance, their relationship of sex and cigarettes. It was tough being a teenager in love.

  Little Malcol
m Robinson wasn’t sure what love was, but he knew he liked Rita and the delicious aroma of fish and chips that always surrounded her. However, his faithful cousin, Big Dave, had warned him off and their brief courtship had ended abruptly. Now Rita’s displeasure was manifested each Friday evening when they ordered their fish, chips and mushy peas, but were never offered a free bag of scraps to complete the feast.

  Wilhemena Hardcastle also made a significant decision. In the bedroom of their luxury bungalow she removed her expensive corset for the last time and disposed of it surreptitiously. She had decided to wear loose-fitting, expansive clothing that matched her outgoing character. It was important to be true to oneself, she thought, as she donned her voluminous nightgown.

  In Laurel Cottage Freddie was in bed and had just turned out his bedside light when there was a tap on the door.

  ‘Freddie, just to let you know I’ve posted a letter to Rudi.’

  He heard Lily’s footsteps pad across the landing carpet.

  She kept her promise, he thought.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Initiation of Miss Nobbs

  The first soft kiss of sunlight caressed the distant hills and the heavy scent of wallflowers was in the air. It was Wednesday, 29 April and almond trees were in blossom as Lily drove to school. An eventful day was in store. The student, Miss Sally Nobbs, was about to make her preliminary visit prior to her teaching practice. The unexpected was just around the corner.

  As she drove, Lily cast her mind back to the letter she had posted to Rudi a few weeks ago. There had been no reply.

  Rudolph Krüger had been surprised to see a cream envelope in his postbox when he had returned from his business meeting in Frankfurt. Approaching his fortieth birthday, he was still single and had found steady employment with a construction company. A bright visionary, he had lofty ideas of a new neighbourhood emerging to the south-east of Hamburg, in an area devastated by bombing – a vibrant new phoenix rising from the ashes.

  He recognized the handwriting on the envelope immediately. After all the years and distance between them, the thought of Lily still made his heart race. There had never been anyone else for him. A few fleeting affairs had come and gone, but nothing lasting or serious. With Lily it had been a love affair that touched his soul; the prisoner of war and the Land Girl working side by side on a farm in Buckinghamshire. He had loved her from the first moment he saw her and he knew that she had felt the same.