Chapter 40: Goodbye, Edward Street

Sheila's baby was born a week early, a fortnight after Jack's return. The Watsons had moved to Scale Hall in early April and Sheila had felt very isolated until Jack's home-coming. It had not been much fun carrying his child. He was out of touch abroad. Her only real friend was now living more than two miles away and it needed two bus rides to go and see her until she decided to pay for a taxi.

It was a very exciting time for the Watsons, though. With the money Celia had left them, they had a choice of any house which took their fancy and visited a number of new Lancaster estates. They would be able to move as soon as they made up their minds.

Most of the houses they viewed were semi-detached with all modern conveniences. All had front and back gardens. Suburbia beckoned and beguiled Margaret. Life would be more pleasant, easier and healthier, she believed. She could hardly wait to make the move.

Margaret set her mind on a recently completed detached house off Sefton Drive, bordering the Crows Wood. It was near the new school, which was being built on the far side of an extensive playing-field. They would have an uninterrupted view overlooking the woods and field. It would be lovely being close to nature and away from the cramped urban surroundings.

Gordon would still have a long walk to work. The nearest bus-stop was about a quarter a mile away and shops even further. Margaret would have no friends or relatives close by. But there would be no immediate, possibly troublesome, neighbours to worry about. She was convinced that she would be happier in suburban semi-isolation than she was in central Lancaster. The new school, when it opened, would be easily accessible for her children.

She didn't mention the big advantage for her of being miles away from Nan to Gordon. She thought, "If Gordon wants to see his mother regularly, he'll have to make the effort and go and visit her." It made her happy to think, "She won't be popping in to see us just when she feels like it. Those days will be at an end!"

Gordon expressed doubts about moving all the way to the Scale Hall estate, but Margaret dug her heels in. "Celia left me the money didn't she! There'll be plenty of room and the open field for the cats and nobody to moan about them. At least nobody near enough to worry us!"

"You're right," agreed Gordon reluctantly. Edward Street neighbours had been displeased by the unexpected increase in the feline population at the Watsons. Mild-mannered Gordon didn't want old problems following him to a new place. Trouble was the last thing he wanted.

He'd nearly brought a heap upon himself by one stupid, mistake, his night with Joyce, but that was history now. Thankfully Margaret had suspected nothing. He had his union book safely. He'd saved nearly enough to pay Joyce what he owed her. Recently she'd contacted him at work. One of the girls who used to work with her was now at Williamson's and she'd sent a letter by hand, telling him she didn't need repaying. Gordon replied expressing his determination to let her have every penny. There was no way that he wanted to be in Joyce's debt.

He gave up his occasional pint and stopped betting on the horses. They had plenty of money for a mortgage. He told Margaret that he was starting to smoke again. But he didn't. The extra money in his pocket went towards the five pounds he owed and soon the target would be reached.

They moved house on a Saturday. One of Fowlers Removals new motorised furniture vans appeared at eight in the morning. Two men started transferring everything from the house into the van.

Michael was not feeling happy. He knew he was going to miss his friend Joan. "I bet I'll never see her again!" he moaned. "And what about Nan, when am I going to see her? And it means a new school! Two different ones!"

It was true. He'd be going to a school on St George's Quay until the new Ryelands School opened.

He sulked. He hated change. He'd just become used to St. Anne's and now they were moving him. He used his favourite saying again and again, "It's not fair!"

His last day at St.Anne's, he'd felt miserable. During afternoon playtime, Miss Perfect asked him to stay behind when the others went outside.

"So you are leaving us today Michael Watson?"
"Yes Miss Perfect."
"Scale Hall is where you are going isn't it?"
"Yes Miss Perfect."
"Too good for Edward Street are we now?"
"Yes Miss Perfect."

She smiled, realising he'd not noticed her sarcasm. She handed him a note.

"This is for your new head teacher. Put it inside your desk now. Take it with you at hometime. Make sure you give it to your mother."

"Yes, Miss Perfect. Thank you, Miss Perfect."

At the end of school after her story they said their prayer. Then Miss Perfect said, "Good afternoon, children."

Everyone chanted, "Good afternoon, Miss Perfect" Then she ordered the children to say goodbye to him.

"Goodbye, Michael Watson." They all responded.
"Say 'Goodbye, children', Michael Watson."
"Goodbye, children Michael Watson," said Michael.

They all laughed at him -- even dour Miss Perfect.

When Michael complained about having to change schools twice in a short space of time Margaret knew he had a point. Michael had been making good progress at St. Anne's and she hoped moving would not put him back. Two school changes might affect him adversely. The new Ryelands School was not due to open until the summer of 1939. In the meantime, she'd managed to have him accepted after Easter at St. Mary's It was another small church school. It nestled close to one of the arches of Carlisle Bridge, just a road's width away from the river. Its location would present problems for Michael.

"But you'll have Rob not far away soon," she consoled him. "They're moving to Ryelands in July, so you'll be able to play together again. You'll be seeing him regularly. Next year you'll both be at the same school. With luck you'll be in the same class!"

Michael had to agree: that was something to look forward to. But July seemed a long time away and next year was an eternity.

On the day of their move Michael was up early helping to catch the cats. Each one was secured in its own cardboard box, collected over the weeks from Riley's shop. The house filled with their protests and wailing. Little Gwyn was worried by their distress. The cats were everything to her. She was even allowed to have Jesse on her bed every night.

After Michael had helped to sort the cats he was in the way rather than any help so his mother persuaded him to go to the playground for a while.

Joan had come to witness their preparations for departure. She offered to take Michael across the road.

"Right! Come on Joan! I want to show you what I can do!"

Joan accompanied him willingly. She'd always enjoyed visiting Aunt Margaret and Uncle Gordon and playing with the two children, especially Michael. With a heavy heart, she realised she was probably going out to play with Michael for the last time. It saddened her as she watched a now confident Michael show what he could do on the slide.

Somebody had greased it with candle wax to make it more slippery. Michael went up the ladder and came down fast. He was sitting down and shot off the end and landed on his feet.

"Brilliant!" Joan shouted.

Next time he turned round on the platform on the top. He came down on his stomach, feet first. He ran back to the steps and climbed them again. He was eager to show his last trick

Joan clapped her hands with glee and in anticipation!

He came down on his stomach, head first, arms stretched out in front of him. He slid down at a terrific speed and went straight off the end, crunching to earth and grazing the palms of both hands.

Joan gasped, expecting an outpouring of tears. The landing had hurt him. The hand that was still healing from the burning with the hot poker had bits of dirt embedded in it. It was very painful. But to her surprise, he made nothing of it. He brushed himself down and kept on going without a pause. He showed her how high he dare go on the big kids' swing. Then he showed off how easily he could run and jump on the swiftly turning roundabout.

"Well done Michael," she enthused. "You have come on a lot!"

He felt really proud of himself. Lots of kids had become bored with the playground, after only a few days. He'd carried on going there. He didn't need his mother and Gwyn with him. He could hardly remember his former fears of only weeks previously. He loved practising and developing the skills which he had just demonstrated. Sometimes he played on the yard all on his own at pretend games. He liked being a speedy car, an aeroplane or war hero. There was plenty of room to throw his bomb as high in the air as he wanted and for it to land wherever it liked.

Gordon had been delighted to see the change in Michael. As usual, he had a saying to suit the circumstances. "It's like President Roosevelt said, 'Nothing to fear but fear itself'! Well done Michael!"

The van was loaded by eleven o'clock. Michael went with his Dad to say goodbye to the relatives in Lodge Street then farewell to the three aunts and cousins in Edward Street. Next, Margaret took Gwyn to do the same. Nan and Henry came to see them off. Joan stayed with Michael right to the end.

Michael had a big adventure out of it. The removal men said he could ride with them. He could sit squashed between the door of the van and the tall, thin removal man sharing the passenger seat.

"It's very good of you," said Margaret. "Say thank-you to the nice man," she urged him.

"Thank-you!" said Michael. It was really high-up, next to the driver of the van, but not as high as a double-decker bus, nor the slide. He didn't feel a bit dizzy.

Gordon and Margaret took Gwyn to catch a bus to their new home. Nan and Henry walked with them to Dalton Square.

"I hope you'll be suited now you've got what you wanted," Nan remarked to Margaret. "I'll be over when I can, to see the kiddies."

Michael waved to Joan. The van went down the road past her house. She ran alongside the vehicle. She kept on waving until it disappeared out of sight down Lodge Street. Lace curtains in the road subsided into their normal positions.

Michael just knew he'd never see Joan again. And he'd really loved her! "It's not fair," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" asked the man who wasn't driving
"Nothing," said Michael quietly, choking back a tear.
"Here son," said the thin man, holding out a bag of toffees, "Have a suck on one of these!"

Michael took one and said, "Thank-you!"

The van accelerated along Morecambe Road, went under Carlisle Bridge, turned-up Scale Hall Lane then bumped along Borwick Drive. Sefton Drive was next. They turned right at the T-junction and Michael could see his new house behind the tall trees of the Crows Wood. The trees hadn't any new leaves yet and the remains of last year's nests could be seen clearly silhouetted against the sky.

"Nice spot!" said the driver.
"Lovely house!" said his mate.
"Lucky lad, aren't you?"

Michael wasn't sure. But it was certainly one really big adventure.