Chapter 42: Settling In

Hot water on tap in bathroom and kitchen! How Gordon enjoyed shaving without having to boil a kettle.

Margaret's washing-day was transformed. No more endless carting of heavy kettles to and from an open fire! No more heavy carryings to empty dirty water outside! Instead, there was a length of hosepipe from hot water tap to tub; then easy bailing out afterwards, from tub to nearby sink. Smalls were washed in the sink. A modern, easily turned mangle was attached to the tub. An airing cupboard with a hot tank! Drudgery transformed to manageable work!

Friday night was still bath night for the kids. No tin bath in front of the fire now! No boiling of lots of kettles before there was enough for them to bath in! Gone the old chore of emptying the water outside afterwards!

Michael preferred the deep end in the bath. Gwyn sat in the shallow end. Gordon and Margaret both attended the weekly ritual. Gordon rubbed Michael's back clean and Margaret did Gwyn's. It was fun! They were allowed to splash each other. Margaret spread extra towels on the floor to soak up any water which went over the side. Michael made a fuss when his hair was soaped and rinsed. He always moaned, "The soap's in my eyes. They're stinging."

Sometimes it was true. It never seemed to happen to Gwyn.

They were allowed to play in the bath after they had been washed. Gordon and Margaret would go downstairs and leave them to it. "Don't be too rough with Gwyn!" Gordon told Michael. The water play would cause them to yell and shriek with delight.

When the water was cooling, Michael would shout down, "Mam, we're getting cold!"

Gordon would come back to the bathroom. He'd lift Gwyn out carefully and carry her downstairs, wrapped in a soft bath towel. He'd plonk her down in front of the blazing fire. Margaret would dry her, powder her with talc and put on her night-clothes. Gwyn wore a liberty-bodice most of the year, to help protect her weak chest.

Michael would shout again, "The water's freezing! Come and get me!"

Gordon would return and lift him out of the bath and hand him a towel. Michael would wrap it round himself and Gordon would carry him quickly to the rug in front of the fire and dry him.

"Don't rub so hard. You're hurting me!"
"Rubbish! Don't be a softy!"
"I'm not!"

They had a cup of hot milk with sugar in it - "Drink it all up! Milk's good for you!" - Then they went off to bed. Michael had a big bedroom with an electric fire and an electric light. On bath night they put the fire on so that he didn't catch cold after his bath. Dad still read him a story and the bedroom light was left on until he went to sleep.

Gwyn had her own room, too. It wasn't so big as Michael's. It had a large side window. This overlooked the wood and the field. When summer came, she was nearly level with the birds. She watched them flitting in and out of the branches of the nearby trees. Crows lived high-up, higher than her bedroom window. She woke up to the crows cawing and other birds singing.

She liked to stand by her window during the day and see what they were doing. It was different but just as interesting as watching the workers going past the house in Edward Street. When she thought that she remembered kindly Celia Wilkinson going to her job in the mill.

One day she saw one of her cats snatch a bird in the grass. It started playing with it and teasing it. She thought it was a game. When the cat went away, the bird stayed still and did not fly. She could see blood on the grass. Gwyn rushed downstairs.

"Mam! Mam! Look what Jesse's done! I hate him!"

Margaret came and comforted her. It was no good telling the child, "Jesse can't help it. It's all part of a cat's nature." Gwyn would not be consoled and would not have Jesse in bed with her that night. There were no trees or grass in Edward Street. There had not been any birds for the cats to kill. It was another lesson: nature could be cruel.

Margaret told Gordon about it. He was philosophical. "It's no good love, we can't protect them from life. Such things are all part of growing-up."

Margaret's heart ached. She wanted her world to be perfect. She wanted perfect children. She wanted them to have happy lives, free from any troubles or pain. She knew it was unrealistic, but that's what she wanted.

They had their own garden at the front and at the back of the house, so Gordon was busy gardening at weekends. When the lighter evenings came, he passed many hours trying to subdue the wilderness out. Meticulous as ever he made a plan of what it would look like when he'd finished.

There would be two lawns. There would be an asphalt drive from one wide gate and an asphalt path from the other gate. They would lead down the sides of the house and meet by the back door. A concrete path would divide the back lawn. A wooden shed would reside in a far corner. There would be a rockery in the other corner. He would mix concrete and make a curved path leading to it. He would order the sand and cement and let the children help him.

Close to the house he would surround two small areas of soil with crazy paving and these would be Gwyn's and Michael's very own gardens. There they would plant seeds in late springtime and water them daily. They would be astounded when seedlings appeared and grew into beautiful snapdragons, pansies and summer chrysanthemums. He would plant shrubs and climbing roses up against one fence of the back garden and perennials in a border up against the other. The front garden would have borders for annuals all the way round its perimeter.

Gordon was planning his own Paradise. Within eighteen months he had created it. There was a place for everything and everything was in its place. The sun shone down on 'Cartref', Welsh for 'Homestead' and on Gordon and his family. It seemed that God was in his heaven and all was right with their little world.

Margaret still had her tins for the allocation of various expenditures. She no longer had to fight against damp and decay.

The semi-detached houses near them on Sefton Drive were almost finished and a nice couple with two young children were soon to move into the nearest one.

Shopping was difficult, though. The road was not made-up and it was hard work walking to the nearest shops at Scale Hall Corner or Oxcliffe Corner, and it was nearly impossible trying to wheel the pram. It was a bit too far for Gwyn to walk so Margaret had to carry her part of the way. The burden of child and heavy bags of shopping made her arms ache. Consequently, she tried to do most of her shopping on Saturday afternoons when Gordon was home. He didn't mind. He liked playing with the children. If the weather was good they all worked and cavorted outside in the garden, in the wood or on the field.

They did not see Granddad Henry very often but Nan caught a bus and visited every Thursday afternoon. At least her visits were predictable and Margaret could ward off criticism, by dusting more assiduously. She ensured everything was tidy before Old Eagle Eye's tour of inspection.

"I don't know why you let these cats in the house," she'd sniff. "There's plenty of room for them outside. Smelly things!"

Gwyn would carry her tortoise-shell moggy over to Nan and plonk her on her lap.

"Stroke Katie, Nan! She'll purr for you."

Margaret thought, "Go on Katie, dig in your claws. Give her a scratch!"

Michael loved his new home but hated his new school. He was confronted by new horrors and was terrified on his journey there and back. However, every cloud has a silver lining. There was one person who enabled him to find life tolerable at St. Mary's, who became the new love in his life. Joan had been supplanted by a beautiful blonde. She was young Miss Clemence, his teacher.