Lily's Journey

by Tania Crosse

  ‘Hello again, maid! How you be?’ my guard of the Dartmoor pixies greeted me with a broad smile as I went to purchase my ticket from him. ‘Staying long?’

  ‘For good, I hope. I’m going job-hunting in Tavistock.’

  ‘I hopes you find summat, then. Now move along, you girls and boys!’ he ordered, opening the door to a third class compartment. After all, I didn’t have money to waste! ‘This be… Sorry, miss, I doesn’t know your name.’

  ‘Lily Hayes.’

  ‘Right everyone. This is Lily Hayes an’ she’s come to live here, so you be nice to her, or else.’ He jabbed his head sternly at half a dozen school children and then winked furtively at me as he held open the door.

  ‘Yes, Mr Renwood,’ they chorused obediently as they made room for me. It was somewhat unnerving being in a compartment full of strangers who must know each other intimately, but I knew I would have to make the first move.

  ‘You all off to school?’ I asked. ‘I thought there was a school in Princetown?’

  ‘We go to the grammar in Tavvy,’ a girl of about my age answered, smiling proudly. ‘Where you from, then?’

  ‘London,’ I replied, relieved that she seemed quite friendly.

  ‘London? What’s that like?’ a tubby boy of about twelve asked. ‘Better ’an yere, I bet.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. The moor’s beautiful.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ the girl nodded. ‘But it makes things hard livin’ at Princetown. Sally and me are in the Fifth Form doin’ our O-levels. First year of them, so we’re guinea pigs, really. We have so much studyin’ to do, we could do without this long journey each day. And this is Pete, doin’ A-levels. I’m Kate, by the way. So how old are you, Lily?’

  ‘Fifteen. But I left school in the summer. My mum wanted me to stay on, but she’s just died anyway—’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing!’

  ‘Thank you. So I’ve come to live with my estranged father at Foggintor.’

  ‘What! Not old Long Face Latham?’

  I had to chuckle. ‘I’m afraid so. But…’ I hesitated slightly, but decided to throw caution to the wind. ‘Perhaps you can tell me something about him? I’d not met him before, and he’s pretty hard to talk to.’

  The boy called Pete lifted his head from the textbook he was reading. ‘Don’t suppose any of us can tell you much. Keeps himself to himself. Comes to chapel every Sunday. Scarcely says a word. Except to pray, of course.’

  It was disappointing that none of them could tell me anything, but they were really chatty, and I arranged to meet up in Princetown with Kate and Sally the following afternoon which was Saturday. The journey down to Yelverton seemed to take no time at all, and we all changed onto the main line for Tavistock. I walked down into the town centre with them, admiring the wide square with its magnificent Town Hall on one side and the beautiful old church on the other. While they went off in one direction, they pointed me the opposite way. After elbowing through London’s crowded, fume-filled streets, Tavistock was relatively quiet, yet it was still full of life with people going about their daily business. I, too, was there for a purpose. To find a job.

  I turned a corner into a pleasant street lined with shops. Almost at once, I saw a branch of Boots, and then my heart gladdened as I spied a familiar shop front with large gold lettering on a red background. Woolworths. I swallowed down my sudden nerves and, shoulders back, marched straight in and asked to speak to the supervisor.

  ‘I’m Mrs Kershaw, the manageress,’ a bustling woman smiled at me as I was shown into a small office. ‘I understand you’re looking for work.’

  She was so much more pleasant than our straitlaced manager in London had been, and I immediately felt at ease. ‘Yes, I am. I’ve been working at the Lavender Hill branch at Clapham Common since August, but my mother’s just died and I’ve had to come to live here with my father.’

  ‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry to hear that. But I am actually looking for experienced extra staff for the Christmas period, and I have someone leaving in the New Year, so if you prove good enough… Tell me, what were you doing before that?’

  ‘I was at school. My teachers wanted me to stay on, but I needed to help my mother out financially.’

  It was only a partial fib, and it sounded good. Money had been tight, and I had enjoyed treating my mum to a little luxury each week. I had been secretly saving to buy her a television, but she had never known. I wished now I had told her.

  ‘Ah. And what counter did you serve on?’

  ‘I moved around. But cosmetics was my favourite.’

  ‘Really? That’s what I had in mind. Now, if you’d like to wait outside, I’ll just ring through to your old branch for a reference, and if it’s good, you can start on Monday.’

  So, by ten o’clock, my mission was accomplished and I had the whole day free to explore the town. I was looking in the window of a shoe shop displaying the sort of stout footwear I would need to walk between the cottage and the railway halt each day, when I caught the reflection of movement from across the road. A little boy in a double-fronted coat with a velvet-trimmed collar was merrily waving a balloon attached to a string. I turned round to watch, his total absorption in his own small world bringing a smile to my lips. I was just about to return to my study of the shoe display when the string must have slipped from his hold and a gust of wind blew the balloon towards me. The child’s mother was talking to another woman and was clearly taken entirely unawares when her son tugged his hand free from hers and plunged across the road after his plaything.

  Whether it was sheer luck or intuition, I shall never know, but I sensed rather than saw the car that was moving down the street. It was only going slowly but the boy shot out like a bullet from a gun. I didn’t stop to think. My body hurled itself in front of the car, scooping the boy into my arms. I heard the screech of brakes, felt the bumper glance off my thigh and throw me into the gutter with the child safely in my arms. And then I lay, motionless with shock while my heart thudded in my chest.

  The silence lasted but a few seconds before there were people all around, kind and concerned. I handed up the boy to his hysterical mother while passers-by helped me to my feet.

  ‘Oh, my God, are you all right?’

  I was being supported upright now, and stared into the anguished face of the driver who had sprung from his car in an agony of horror. I blinked at him in a daze and nodded my head, he looked so appalled and mortified. He was young, with a mop of unruly, sandy curls and lovely, green-blue eyes that were staring at me with deep anxiety. I’m not sure who was more embarrassed, him or me.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I assured him with a smile. ‘At least I think so. Just a bit bruised probably.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry—’

  ‘No, it wasn’t your fault, honestly. The little boy just—’

  ‘Is he all right?’ he gulped now, turning to the mother who was cradling her son who seemed utterly oblivious to the near accident he had caused. ‘Let me look. I’m a medical student. Oh, God, I can’t believe this has happened.’

  ‘’Tweren’t your fault, son. We all seed it. An’ the little boy’s proper clever. Not a scratch.’

  ‘Are you sure? Oh, but the young lady. Can we take her into a shop for a few minutes? You’re shaking. Oh, that was so brave of you.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ the mother was saying to me now. ‘Little devil just got away from me.’

  ‘I’m just glad I happened to see him. Really, I’m not hurt.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. I could take you to the hospital.’

  ‘Please don’t worry. And really, you weren’t to blame. Please, go on your way.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘Yes, perfectly, thank you.’

  The crowd had dispersed, and the young man climbed back into his car, his brow ruched with concern. At the last second, I nearly changed my mind. Not that I was injured at all, but because he was so attractive and a real young gentleman. But he was driving
slowly away, probably more shocked than I was.

  After that, it was hard to concentrate on my shopping. But I eventually chose some shoes and a pair of warm slacks, and bought some thick socks and a good torch. I would need a thicker coat than my old school gabardine, but that could wait.

  By three o’clock, I was ready to leave, but the next train to leave Yelverton for Princetown wasn’t until ten to five. Being Friday, however, a bus was about to leave Bedford Square for the moorland village, so I caught that instead. The bus laboured steeply uphill for the entire journey, taking a far more direct route than the train. The driver promised to put me off as near to the track to Yellowmeade Farm as he could, and I settled down in the seat behind him. We hadn’t gone far when a tall, slender woman in her forties climbed onto the bus, and although there weren’t that many passengers, she sat down next to me, despite all my shopping.

  ‘Hello,’ she greeted me, eyeing my purchases. ‘You look as if you’ve had a busy day. Stranger round here, aren’t you?’

  I should have preferred to look out of the window at the views and contemplate the events of the day – especially the incident with the little boy and the car and the handsome driver thereof – but the woman was friendly enough and I sensed her conversation would be lively. She was smartly dressed in a thick winter coat with a good tweed skirt showing below and heavy brogues on her feet. Her hair was short and permed in a modern style, and she wore lipstick and dainty earrings. Altogether she gave the impression of sophistication, and although there was a Devonshire lilt to her voice, she didn’t sound anything like the other local people I had spoken to.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I answered politely. ‘I’ve come to live with my father here on the moor.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ She tipped her head at me and smiled. ‘Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?’

  ‘London.’

  ‘Goodness me, you’ll find life here very different, I’m sure. I’ve been to London once. Couldn’t get back here quickly enough.’

  We chatted pleasantly, and she was as eager to point out places on the moor as I was to learn about them. ‘Have you seen any of the ancient remains yet?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I haven’t. I’ve seen stone rows and circles marked on the map, though. Is that what you mean?’

  She nodded with marked enthusiasm. ‘That’s right. Shows people have lived and worshipped on the moor since, well, who knows? Pre-history. And it’s a very special place, don’t you think? Full of mystery and so close to nature. You can understand why they worshipped gods of the earth and the sky, can’t you?’

  I was somewhat surprised by the unexpected question. ‘Yes, I suppose the elements would seem quite mystical to people of ancient cults,’ I agreed.

  ‘And not just ancient.’

  I was slightly bemused by her comment and was about to ask what she meant when the driver announced over his shoulder that we had reached the point where I should get off and he brought the bus to a halt. ‘That there track leads to Yellowmeade,’ he told me.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ I answered, gathering up my purchases.

  The smart woman stood up to let me out of the seat. ‘Good luck, dear,’ she said as I squeezed past. ‘Perhaps we’ll meet again.’

  I watched the bus trundle off up the hill, a little nonplussed. Had the woman been about to tell me that strange things happened on the moor even now, or merely that she found the moor an amazingly inspirational place? I wondered what my Ellen would have made of what the woman had said? Stuff and nonsense, probably. And as I crossed the road to the track, I smiled to myself as I heard her voice in my head.

  Chapter Four

  I kept my promise. On Saturday morning, I washed some smalls – wondering how on earth we managed towels and sheets – and then walked into Princetown. I found Kate’s house in Hessary Terrace easily enough. When she opened the door, Sally was at her shoulder and as I stepped inside, I was nearly knocked over by two little boys roaring past me as they pretended to be air-raid bombers.

  ‘Ooops, sorry!’ Kate laughed. ‘I did warn you! Eldest of eight, me.’

  ‘Golly, how do you manage?’ I was amazed. There seemed to be children everywhere, but unlike Jeannie’s crowded home in London, all was neat and tidy.

  ‘Oh, Dad has us all regimented to do our own jobs. That’s what comes of havin’ a prison officer for a father.’ She gave a mock salute, and grinned. ‘Hey, Mum, this is Lily, the new girl I told you about on the train.’

  A voluminous woman with frizzy permed hair welcomed me with a broad smile from the open door to the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you go up to the bedroom and play some music? I’ll bring you up some sandwiches. That all right, Lily?’

  ‘Yes, that would be lovely, thank you.’

  I followed Kate and Sally up the stairs. I knew at once this was a happy household, just what I needed to lift my spirits. There were bunks and a narrow single bed with another younger girl lying on it on her front, reading a magazine.

  ‘Budge up!’ Kate commanded. ‘Lily, this is my sister, Doreen. Dor, wind up the gramophone, will you? What shall we listen to? Sorry it’s a bit cramped, Lily. Only we don’t have a sittin’ room. Mum and Dad have to use it as a bedroom.’

  There was only one way to describe Kate’s home, and that was relaxed and noisy. ‘How do you manage to do your homework?’ I marvelled, remembering how I always liked total silence to do mine.

  ‘Easy,’ Sally shrugged. ‘We go to my house. Like a morgue, that is. But I am an only child. My dad’s a prison officer, too, only he usually works nights so we have to be like mice during the day while he’s asleep. We did half our homework there this morning. Now, what’ll it be? Old Blue Eyes?’ she asked, shuffling through half a dozen seventy-eights on a shelf.

  My heart really felt light and I enjoyed myself so much, chatting, dancing in the few feet of available space and not thinking at all about Sidney, that I was quite shocked when I looked at my watch. ‘Oh, goodness, I must go! I’ve got to do the shopping and catch the four o’clock train back to the halt.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame! But you will come again next week?’

  ‘I’ll be working on Saturdays from now on,’ I answered, genuinely disappointed. ‘But I’ll see you on the train each morning.’

  ‘Tell you what, there’s a pre-Christmas dance at the Town Hall the Saturday after next. Why don’t you come? It’ll be fun!’

  ‘That sounds great!’ But then my heart sank again. ‘I can’t, though, can I? I wouldn’t be able to get home afterwards. I don’t fancy walking across the moor at night.’

  Kate pulled a long face. ‘Can’t stay here, I’m afraid. No room. And my Dad doesn’t have a car so he can’t drop you home.’

  ‘Mine neither,’ Sally put in. ‘He’d be on duty, anyway, and Mum doesn’t like people coming to stay.’

  ‘Oh, well, never mind. I’ll see you both on Monday morning, anyway.’

  I tried not to think about it as I did the shopping, but I did feel frustrated. Those few hours spent with Kate and Sally had made me feel normal again, but it wasn’t going to last. And before I knew it, I was letting myself into the cottage and back into Sidney’s dour company.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ he greeted me as I struggled in with the shopping. ‘You’ve saved me some time, so I’ve got everything ready for the bath, instead of doing it later.’

  I dumped the basket and three string-bags on the table, and felt the knot of apprehension as I took in the tin bath he must have dragged in from one of the outhouses. Every available pot and pan was squeezed onto the range which I could feel by the warmth in the kitchen had been stoked up as hot as it would go.

  ‘You can go first.’

  I thought I detected a begrudging tone in his voice, but assuming we had to share the water, I was grateful for small mercies. As I unpacked the shopping, I could see Sidney pouring steaming water from the pans into the bath, refilling them from a line of buckets and replacing them on the range.

&n
bsp; ‘Right, I’ll be upstairs. Shout when you’ve finished.’

  I stood for a few seconds and stared. This was hardly what I was used to, but there was nothing for it. I drew the curtains. It was almost dark outside, and Sidney had already lit one of the oil-lamps. I took a deep breath, and began to strip off. Then I realised there was no lock on the door, and uneasiness churned in my stomach. I took one of the chairs and jammed the back under the door handle. It was the best I could do.

  There was barely three inches of near-boiling water in the bottom of the rough, galvanised tub, hardly enough to get myself wet in, and the tin bath itself looked decidedly uninviting. I added a little cold from one of the buckets and stepped in, cautiously, shuddering, feeling utterly degraded. I sat down, noticing the odd spot of rust and wondering if I wouldn’t get out dirtier than I got in. There would be no lying back comfortably, wallowing in bath-cube scented ripples and turning on the gas wall-heater tap to top it up. I quickly lathered myself all over and scooped up water to rinse off the soap. Exposed to the air, my wet skin went straight into goose-pimples and I abandoned any thought of washing my hair. The water was already only lukewarm and I got straight out, shivering with cold and revulsion. The whole experience had brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to go home. But someone else was moving into our old house that very day. And anyway, Mum wasn’t there. She was lying in a hole in the ground.

  ‘You’re not coming to chapel in those!’ Sidney thrust his head towards my new trousers on Sunday morning.

  I met his glare with a challenging lift of my chin. ‘Chapel?’

  ‘Of course,’ he snapped. ‘Your grandfather was a preacher and he’d turn in his grave if—’

  ‘Was he?’ My eyebrows lifted with genuine interest. Was this an opportunity to find out something about my family? My heart began to race. ‘I assume you mean your father?’