by Alan Tansley
It was always in the back of Mahala’s mind that the shop might not do well, as she thought the villagers still held a grudge against her family, but she never said anything to put off her daughters-in-law. However, the opposite happened, especially when Florence and Penelope used their children to advertise their wares at school.
One Saturday morning, Mahala visited the shop. She watched a lady customer buy a joint of beef with pork chops, and was shocked when she suddenly turned and informed her that the local council had received orders from Whitehall to adjust their war memorial to include Henry’s name and honours.
Instantly, tears flowed from Mahala’s eyes, and the customer smiled faintly, patting her arm. ‘I know it must still hurt, but at least everyone knows him as a hero now,’ she said.
Watching her walk away, Mahala quickly wiped her eyes, but thought, ‘I wonder what has really been said, and by whom?’
She felt comfortable enough to discuss any subject freely with her daughters-in-law, as they were very close. Indeed, Mahala sometimes felt as if she was closer to them than her sons. Later that evening, Mahala brought up the subject of the memorial for them to discuss. She was pleasantly surprised when everyone was in agreement not to interfere, just let the townsfolk do as they wish, as Henry’s medals were at home with them where they should be.
Tuberculosis began to hit the county hard again, and this time it left the Cotton family devastated. First Mahala was stricken, and even though the doctor did everything to save her, in the end, he informed George and Timothy it was a blessing she had passed away.
Mahala was buried with Joseph, with all her family in attendance, and this time, many villagers were also present. It was a solemn day for everyone, however, as within two days, without anyone having had the time to recover from their grief, Georgina and James were stricken.
Because of their age, both were sent by train to a new isolation hospital built ten miles away. Tears were shed by all, especially as only their mothers were permitted to travel with them.
Mr Webster, although now retired, was always kept busy with his skills as a blacksmith. He had now become a lead-beater, making lead coffin liners for those who had died from TB. Although not legislation, it was recommended that anyone who had died of the disease should be immediately laid to rest in one to prevent contamination.
Again, every public amenity in the village was closed for safely, and even though it was a recognised fact that TB only spread via saliva, the local council had leaflets printed and distributed to every household with the message of boiling all water before using, and keeping everything clean as possible.
Chapter 35
Work at the farm was reduced dramatically; the shop was closed, and with the mothers in constant attendance on Georgina and James, Mrs Webster, with Mavis and her new husband, Josh, stayed overnight at the farm to look after Joseph and Laura. Timothy and George set off to catch the train to the hospital to give their wives a break.
In the early hours of the morning, Georgina died, one hour before James did, both while being nursed by their parents. Knowing they had to stay a day longer while arrangements were made to bring their children’s bodies home, George stared into space while Florence sobbed in his arms.
Penelope was screaming with the agony of losing her son, and Timothy was visibly shaking with the shock. The emotion of both parents grieving was far too much for the nurse, who had to wait outside in the corridor before finishing her duties.
No one had been able to sleep, and early next morning, with two white coffins in the railway carriage with them, Timothy, Penelope, George, and Florence, under sedation from the hospital doctor, stared into space while the train continued towards their station. Not a word was spoken until the train stopped, and then both brothers helped their wives down before they unloaded the coffins.
As advised by the hospital doctor, they explained matters to the vicar and carried their children’s coffins straight into the church. When they were inside, the coffins were placed on either side of the altar. The vicar said a prayer, and then the broken-hearted parents had to leave them behind.
As they walked home, George broke the silence by suddenly pausing to say, ‘We have to tell their brother and sister the truth. They might overhear and, well, you know.’
‘True, I’ve never thought about them,’ said Timothy, then slipped his arm around Penelope when she began to sob again.
As soon as they reached the house, Mrs Webster read their faces and knew what had happened. Reaching out, she grabbed Penelope, then Florence, while Timothy and George carried on inside and stared at Mr Webster who continued towards them. He reached out, hugged them both, and grimaced at their grief as they sobbed.
They managed to seat themselves around the table where they had sat so many happy times before, and Mavis entered, carrying a teapot with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. ‘We have left them in the church, and the vicar will be in touch with us tomorrow to let us know when the funeral is,’ said George, and sighed.
Mr Webster leant on the table saying, ‘I’m very sorry lad, but there are many more to be buried from the village as well. Three died yesterday morning, and one of them was their teacher.’
Bowing his head, Timothy sobbed, moaning, ‘Good grief.’
‘How many altogether?’ asked Penelope, carefully pouring her tea with shaking hands.
‘There are twelve so far.’
Laura asked, ‘Does that mean Georgina and James aren’t coming home, mummy?’
Penelope instantly burst into tears again, and Timothy slowly leant down towards his daughter, trying to smile at her through his tears. ‘No, my love, they have gone to the angels with Nana Mahala and Granddad Joseph.’
‘Oh,’ she replied looking very confused.
After their children’s funerals, and the very subdued Christmas and New Year were finished with, January 1938 was a very mild winter. George’s relationship with Florence was deteriorating fast; he wanted her to have another child, but she flatly refused. One Saturday night, another argument began that turned into an almighty row. In a temper, George stormed into the kitchen, began to make a cup of tea, and then suddenly turned when Florence entered, sobbing her heart out.
His anger disappeared and he reached out to her. She dived into his arms and clutched him, sobbing, ‘George, I daren’t have any more children in case something else happens to them. Georgina had everything to live for and was a very healthy child, but just look at what happened to her.’
Hugging her tight, he whispered, ‘I understand, my love.’
Unbeknownst to them, Timothy and Penelope had the same troubles. They were not as loud, but they were very moody. During the night, Laura had only to cough, and Penelope jumped out of bed to check on her.
A week later, the doctor called, pretending that it was just a social call, but in fact he was on his rounds, checking on all the local families in his practice. He observed their general health condition and gave them sound advice to ward off most ailments, but the best he could inform them was that if the weather allowed it, they had to open doors and windows to ventilate their house. ‘Fresh air is vital, even to those in bed.’
Many in the village, who now had coal gas heating, stuck to the old ways, so if anyone in their household was ill, they turned up the heating to sweat it out of them. When the doctor told them it was wrong, they wondered why and refused to believe him.
Another week passed, and there were no more deaths in the village. Many began to venture outdoors, out of necessity, if only walking to the end of the street for some exercise.
The best Timothy and George could do to cope was to concentrate on bringing the farms back up to standard. Mr Webster and Mavis’s husband, Josh, helped on two evenings, including weekends. However, they had all had noticed that life in the village was very quiet.
On Sunday morning, as there was a memorial for their children, George and Timothy decided to attend church with their families. In many ways, i
t was a disturbing outing. In church, many villagers kept to themselves; they sang quietly but prayed loudly. Timothy was going through the motions, but his mind was drifting, and he blushed when George nudged him as he carried on singing when the congregation had sat down.
Florence and Penelope sobbed when they heard their children’s names mentioned, and their husbands hugged them. They were all surprised to hear so many more names.
After the service, everyone visited their relations’ graves, leaving flowers on them all. Florence kissed her parents, and then the Cottons all walked home, even though it was chilly. She put on a brave face at seeing Joseph Jr. sat on his dad’s shoulders. Timothy slipped his arm around Laura, and Penelope slowed down as if she wanted to talk to Florence.
She did, and when the men were out of earshot, she began to discuss the permanent hiring of help for the farm, knowing Timothy and George couldn’t manage. They decided that Penelope would bring up the subject during dinner. They were adamant that the brothers needed help; they both looked overworked, were losing weight fast and were not acting their normal selves.
After dinner, Timothy and George washed up while in the living room Penelope and Florence tried to teach their children how to play a particular card game. They didn’t realise it, but the brothers were discussing taking someone on. It was a matter of how to do it, and how to work out their wages.
Two hours later, with the children drowsing on their mother’s knee, the four discussed the hiring of labour. Penelope had some experience, so she volunteered her help doing the books. Timothy began to write out some notices, saying that he would nail them to trees in the lane on the next day. Their spirits began to rise, and when George and Florence left for home, they all seemed to be in a much better mood, with definite plans.
They had decided to switch to rearing only beef cattle, keeping two milk cows for their own consumption. Timothy had just finished milking, and encountered a chap walking towards him as he returned to the house. He identified him as a rep by the way he was dressed. The rep was selling a wireless, and Timothy had already seen an advertisement for one in an old newspaper.
The rep explained how it worked, telling him that it would need a rechargeable battery. If Timothy bought a wireless, the rep would arrange with a local battery man to supply the batteries.
‘So how much are they?’ asked Timothy.
‘At the moment, threepence, but that should last you a good week,’ replied the rep, eagerly rubbing his hands together.
‘Right then, do it, and soon as possible. It’s getting so bloody boring around here. And it had better work,’ snapped Timothy, staring at him, but tried not to smile, knowing Penelope was eavesdropping.
Later that night, while they ate dinner, Penelope asked what the rep was ordering for him. ‘Oh, nothing my love, just the usual bits and pieces for the farm,’ he replied, but was trying not to smile.
He told George about his intended purchase, and George decided that he wanted to buy one as well, and kept the news from Florence. So on the day of delivery, they all sat in Timothy’s living room and watched the rep set up the wireless. When music began to blurt from it, Florence and Penelope stared. They all went quiet when the music stopped, and then someone with a very posh voice began to read out the world news, stating that Germany seemed about to invade Poland. There were gasps all round.
Timothy and George were working in a field, planting potatoes and having left their wives and children to listen to the wireless. Suddenly, they stared at a vehicle drive down the lane towards the house; it wasn’t a tractor.
‘Shall we break for lunch?’ asked George. He knew they had to finish early anyway because they had to interview an applicant at one o’clock.
‘Right, come on then, because I’ve a funny feeling I know what that bugger has called for,’ moaned Timothy, and jumped off the tractor.
There was a uniformed soldier standing with Penelope as they approached the house. Timothy recognised his rank, but not his face. The soldier stood to attention as he and George arrived, and introduced himself, holding out his hand. Timothy shook hands with him, and then introduced his brother, saying, ‘This is George, and I would assume you have introduced yourself to my wife?’
‘I have indeed.’
‘Shall we all go inside then, and sorry, but we have to keep this quick—we have other business within the hour,’ said Timothy, carrying on into the living room.
Timothy offered the soldier a chair. ‘Thank you,’ he replied, and sitting down, he said, ‘We have met before. I’ll admit it was a long time ago, but I do know you. Anyway, frivolities out of the way, let’s get down to business. I am here to offer you employment in educating our junior-ranked officers. If you accept the offer, you will be based at our Aldershot barracks.’
‘Look, this is my home now, and my business and livelihood. My family come first, well, what’s left of it, and I intend for this farm to succeed,’ snapped Timothy.
Without batting an eyelid, the soldier stated, ‘Your salary will be two thousand pounds per annum, of course, with travelling expenses.
George gasped at the amount, and looked straight at Penelope, who never changed her expression.
‘At least the last time anyone offered us a job in the army, he promised us the world as well, didn’t he, George?’ said Timothy.
Smirking, he replied, ‘Oh yes, and he was a lying bugger as well.’
‘I am not lying,’ stated the soldier, ‘and there are no extras. I have been informed you are needed, so that is the offer. Sorry, but I must be on my way now, and thank you for your hospitality.’ He nodded politely to Penelope before he stood up.
‘When do I have to let you know?’ asked Timothy, while looking straight at George.
‘Ring this number,’ he replied, and passed him a card.
‘Do what?’ asked George looking dumbfounded.
‘Oh sorry, you must not be on the telephone line up here just yet. Just send a telegram to the war office address printed on there, then you will have another home visit from us,’ he replied. Standing smartly to attention, he saluted them before he set off to the door.
Timothy followed, bid him farewell and closed the door. When he leant on it, thinking, Penelope stared at him, and in that loud, serious voice asked, ‘You aren’t even going to consider it, are you?’
Then suddenly all went quiet when there came a loud knock at the door.
Timothy thought the officer was returning because he had heard them talking, but it turned out to be applicants for the farm job.
The interviews commenced immediately, and after careful consideration, they chose the last applicants: a Terrance Stringer and his wife Helen. They were informed of their duties, then taken down to George’s old house to view it.
To everyone’s relief, they accepted. Timothy informed them that as the house had been empty for a while, they could have a free week to move in and decorate it to their standard, before starting work the following Monday.
When they accepted, there were handshakes all round, and now they knew that the children would be looked after until they started school, leaving the women more time for housework.
Chapter 36
It was now a ritual to attend church every Sunday morning. The families would put flowers on all their graves, walk home to Timothy’s house, and all have dinner there. Terrance and Helen had slotted in very nicely, and over the next month, they caught up on work. The only problem was the daily news on the wireless, and while Florence always left it on for them to assess what might happen if there was a war, Penelope always turned it off, knowing that it would encourage Timothy to join up. One way or another, he always heard the news anyway.
They made monthly visits to Sheffield to pay money into their account and so keep their business stable, but the Cotton family was running out of petty cash to repair or replace implements. They always tried not to go the bank, and money had never been an issue for any of them, so Timothy decided to organise a fam
ily meeting.
On the following Sunday morning after church, after patiently waiting until Penelope and Florence had served dinner, Timothy asked them to sit down. He coughed to clear his throat, before saying, ‘I have thought in great detail about the offer from the army, and also recently gone through the farm’s accounts over the last three months. It seems we will be seriously short of cash over the following next four months, and this is unfortunate, especially as we also now have two employees to consider. There is another important factor as well. George and I are not getting any younger, and, in fact, I am ready for a well-earned break, so I am seriously considering the army’s offer.’
Penelope stared at him and snapped, ‘No you are not. We could always use my inheritance to help us out.’
‘My mother and father always taught me to stand on my own two feet. I know the farm has money in the bank, but we will stick to dad’s ways and not touch it unless it is absolutely necessary.’
Penelope looked after the books, so George was not very familiar with their financial situation. Disappointedly, he asked, ‘Is it really necessary? I know we coped with just two workers in the past. Now with three of us it is just right, but I’m of the same mind as you, I want a rest as well.’
‘Yes it is, and really I feel responsible in a way. You could always advertise for part-time help when it gets busy. I apologise, but I have the opportunity to go out and earn money to supplement our income, and right now it is badly needed.’
Penelope was fuming. She stood up, and angrily shouted, ‘Is this your way of getting your own back? Because if it is, I’m moving back home!’
‘Oh come on, love, we discussed this problem with other difficulties the other night.’
