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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