At first I was very happy in my new role. Len and I moved to the small village of Frensham, not more than a hop, skip and jump from my old home in Farnham. We rented a small semi-detached house in a development called Rookery Cottages, kitchen and parlour downstairs, two bedrooms up. (I soon learned the reason for our new home’s name – the trees behind us were full of rook’s nests, and sometimes their noise was deafening. The privy was in the back, along with a pump for fresh water. We used my savings to furnish it, and I did have a good time setting my little home to rights. Len was offered the job of steward at the British Legion, and his salary kept us nicely at first.
A daughter was born to in 1922, and we called her Eileen Lucy. On warm summer days I would set her out in the garden in her pram while I worked in our little vegetable garden. Len loved potatoes and onions, and nights I fed him fried potatoes and onions he would declare himself a happy man, and sit by the fire with his pipe while I bathed the baby and put her to bed.
Leonard did not stay a happy man for long. He sometimes became very moody and would take himself for a walk after our evening meal, often staying out until well after midnight. Remembering the difficult times he had experienced during the war I tried to be understanding. He was never violent, but often came home tipsy, and once in a while smelling of perfume. When I confided my fears to my neighbour, Mrs. Maidment, she shook her head and said, “There’s a man for you. They have all the good times, while we women slave – it’s a dreary old life for us. Have another baby, ducks, and keep yourself busy. Remember, there’s lots and lots of spinsters out there that’s pining for the company of a man, since the war took so many. Your Len’ll come right in time.”
Mrs. Maidment had lost her husband and only son in the war, and in time we became close friends. I came to depend on her friendship more and more. She was one of the few people in the village I learned to trust, for the gossip I was beginning to hear in the shops did not speak well of Len. There were whispers about money missing from the Legion. Dougie Dadson, who owned the greengrocers, took a special interest in my daughter, slipping her little treats when we had done our shopping. My sister Rosie came over to visit from Farnham, and once she brought Mother’s treadle sewing machine with her in a cart. “Mother said she no longer has any use for it, and she thought you could have it to make clothes,” she told me, as she played with little Eileen, “Besides, you could always support yourself if you ever need to.” There was something in her tone of voice that made me think she was trying to forewarn me about something I already suspected but chose not to know. In those days women simply had to put up with their husband’s ways and hope for the best.
It wasn’t long before Len’s light-fingered ways were discovered and he was dismissed, only to find more employment as the Commons Keeper. There are two ponds in Frensham, Little Pond and Great Pond. Great Pond is surrounded by a large park, where one will find a sandy beach and picnic grounds, but most of the park is given over to a wildlife preserve. For quite a while my husband was kept so busy he was too tired to go philandering at night.
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