FIFTEEN
LANCASHIRE - THE LAST TIME
She gave her landlady notice that she was
going home, and within a week was sitting back in her seat on the train rattling
along back to Bolton. Once again she was seated in a familiar carriage, with
her worldly belongings in a suitcase above her head in the ratty string luggage
rack of the second class compartment. This time though the train was travelling
so slowly she thought her head would burst with the frustration of the
interminably long wait. Of course, in reality the train was no faster nor
slower than during previous journeys, but this time the excitement of going
home to Bolton for the final time made her impatient to be there. In her last
letter home to her Ma she had told her of her plans and that she wanted her Ma
to meet Florence at Trinity Street station, promising that she would send her a
telegram on the day of her journey.
It still came as a shock and surprise to her
mother when she opened the door to the Post Office Telegram boy on the day of
Florence’s train journey home. She gasped when she opened the door to the boy,
who from experience knew that his presence was never expected in working class
areas. He had plastered a broad grin across his face. Though he did not know
the exact contents of the telegram, he did know that the message was not
unpleasant. To give the lady recipient as much warning as possible of the
telegram's contents he smiled broadly at her as he handed over the small brown
handwritten addressed paper envelope. Mrs Hadfield took the envelope from him
and breathed a smiling sigh of relief before closing the door and gently
opening the lightly glued lip of the message envelope. It simply said that Flo
was arriving in Bolton that evening at 7.30pm and would she meet her there. For
a moment she hesitated and wondered on the reason for her wanting to meet her
mother on the station, and it flashed through her mind that she might be
expecting a child, then as quickly she dismissed the thought.
When the train carrying her pulled away
from the station in Manchester, Florence rose to her feet in impatience and
started to take down her case from above her head. The case came down with a
heavy rush and crashed to the floor causing Florence to jump away from it. She
turned and sat back down in her seat, occasionally nudging the case with her
foot. Florence stared out of the window into the evening light as the train
slowly made its way to Trinity Street. The familiar lines of red brick houses
and giant stone built mills flashed by one after the other. Familiar places
came and went before her eyes, advertising hoardings came into view and she idly
noted how they had changed from one product to another during her absence. It
was the differences she noted, rather than the familiar. The trees and bushes
now were in full bloom along the side of the track and in the various town parks
they passed by, so different from the previous time she had been home. Then, as
her memory reminded her, it had been winter and dark and miserable. Now it was
blue skies all the way and summer Swallows and House Martins were swooping and
flitting along by the side of the track chasing insects, which rang with the
sound of metal on metal as the train drew closer to her home.
At last the train drew into Trinity Street
station, and almost before it had come to a halt Florence had the door open and
was standing in the doorway with case in hand. As the carriage finally came to
a stop, she saw her mother waiting a little way along the platform, her head
moving from side to side anxiously scanning the doors of the individual
carriages for any sign of her daughter. The train stopped and Florence skipped
down onto the platform and walked towards her mother as quickly as the bulky
suitcase would allow her. She walked tilted to one side to counter the weight
of the case until she finally came to a stop in front of her mother.
'Hello Ma,' she said, dropping the case and
taking her mother in an arm enfolding grip. 'It’s good to be home.'
Her mother hugged Florence hard and then
pulled away, but still held her daughter in her arms.
'Well, what’s the matter love? How come
you’re home?' she asked impatiently. She looked Florence in the eye and paused
for a moment unsure whether to ask the question which was uppermost in her mind
or not. Finally she could hold it back no long. 'You’re not in the family way
are you Flo?' she asked. Florence smiled at her and squeezed her arms.
'No Ma I’m not' she answered quietly,
smiling gently at her mother. 'It is good news for you though, but you’re not
going to be a grandma just yet.' Each time she had returned home the future
children of Florence and Thomas had been not been an ignored topic of
conversation whenever Florence and her mother had been alone. It had become
such a regular question, that at times Florence sought to avoid being alone
with her mother too often, but this time the question had been quickly asked
and disposed of. She breathed a silent sigh of relief as she stooped to pick up
her case in her right hand whilst taking her mother’s right elbow in her other
arm.
The two women chatted as they made their
way through the town centre streets and enjoyed the evening sunshine as they
walked to the house on Waterloo Street. In all, Harriet had given birth to
twelve children, of which five had died. Florence was the only girl who had
survived and was especially loved by her mother of all her children. They had
been walking for no more than five minutes through the streets when Florence
told her mother the reason for her return home.
'I’ve decided to go and move to Australia as
soon as I can Ma,' she said. 'It’s doing neither of us any good to be apart for
so long, so I’ve been saving like mad to get enough money for the boat fare,
and as soon as I have it I’m going.' She stopped to let her mother react. Her
reaction was better than Flo had anticipated. Harriet thought for a moment
before she replied.
'I think you are probably doing the right
thing love. It can’t be doing either of you any good to be living apart like
this. Marriage weren’t meant to be like that. A man and his wife should be
together.' She placed her hand over her daughter’s and squeezed it and turned
to smile at her. 'It's crossed my mind a few times in the past months love, and
I think you’re doing the right thing, even though I will miss you like
anything.'
'Thanks Ma. It makes things so much easier
knowing that you are behind me. It's going to take a few weeks to finally get
enough money together, but as soon as I can afford it I will catch the first boat
I can.' She paused and grinned at her mother. 'Sorry Ma, it sounds like I can’t
get away from you quickly enough, but I will miss you and Pa, I have missed you
and Pa. It’s been hard living in Devonport, but it’s even harder with all the
Navy boats and the Sailors around the place reminding me about Tommy, so I just
think it will be easier if I live closer to him.' She took a deep breath and
the two of them carried on walking in silence for a while.
'How much is it going to cost then love?'
Harriet finally asked.
'Well I’m not sure, but I think the fare
out there is about thirty pounds, then I need money for fares to Liverpool, if
that’s where the boat goes from, then I will need to take some with me to find
somewhere to live, and keep myself alive before I can get a job. It’s probably
going to be close to eighty or a hundred pounds to be on the safe side, for
emergencies, just in case.'
'I’ve got some saved up that will help you
out love. How much have you got saved already?' asked her mother. Florence did
a quick mental calculation and stopped walking for a moment. 'I’ve got about
thirty pounds at the moment, and I think that if I can get a job at Warbys
bakery I should be able to save the rest in a month or two, if you don’t take
too much off me for my board that is,' she added grinning to her mother. Harriet
smiled back and held her elbow again.
'I think what you have got thought out is
probably the right amount of money, depends on the boat fare doesn’t it? And I
think I should be able to give you about twenty five or thirty pounds.'
Florence’s face lit up. 'And I won't take anything from you for your board
whilst you are saving. So whatever you earn you can save.'
'Oh Ma, if you could that would be
smashing,' Florence said. She dropped her suitcase on the pavement at her feet
and grabbed her mother, planting a big kiss on her lips. Harriett held her for
a moment then pulled away.
'Ere. Watch it young lady. There’s people
around. 'The two women grinned at each other. Florence picked up her suitcase
and they continued to walk along the street to home.
That night
Florence slept soundly once more in the bed she had occupied as a child. The
major difference in the young woman now was, that she was, a young married
woman. She had the acquired confidence of growing up in a world of adults, the
single woman's confidence over men, and the combined additional confidence and
experience she had gained of being a married woman living alone without her
man. This had given her an edge over other married women of her age, in that
she could never easily rely or call upon 'her' man to do the things which a man
would normally do for his wife, and this gave her a level of knowledge experience
of things, and the world, not possessed by young women of her age and station
in life. In a very real manner she was a far more 'rounded' person that her
peers. In the years to come this would prove to be a major advantage for her. As
she settled down to sleep that night her mind created endless mental lists of
the things she needed to do to fulfil what had become her dream over the past
two years.
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