Moving on . . .

To my faithful readers -
This ends the story of Grandmother James.  When my sister and I visited Frensham a few years ago we wanted to, but were unable, to visit her gravesite.  Now we move on to the conclusion of this family story, and it will be posted over the next several days.

On My Own

The rest of my story is not very exciting, but hard to tell in spots.  Len had left home, joined the British army and married a Swiss wife.  Their four children came and stayed with me for a few years while their father was overseas, and they attended the same village school Eileen and Len had.

Eileen and Allan were true to their word, and sent me the fare to visit them.  It was in a village called Nitro, near Montreal, where Allan was completing his university degree.  I am ashamed to admit I swiped a beautiful serving spoon from the ship’s buffet, since I had no extra money to buy Eileen a gift of any sort.  I stayed and visited all summer, such a happy time.  Their other grandmother had died, so I was left to be their only Granny.  Jean and I spent a lot of time together, and I taught her to knit.  That Christmas she sent me a scarf she had made, full of holes, but I wore it to remember her by.  On my last day in Canada Eileen lined the three children up and had them sing the sad “Now is the hour/when we must say goodbye/soon you’ll be sailing/ far, far away . . .”  I remember we all cried.  I still have the photo on my dresser that Eileen took, of me surrounded by the children, including little baby Alex, whose second name was Bruce, after my maiden name.  I never went back to Canada, although Eileen visited me a few times, especially when she and Allan spent three years in Germany.

The years went by so quickly!  Len grew up into a responsible man finally, and came to see me once in a while, although his father never visited once I was on my own.  Eventually he died, and I applied for his widow’s pension.  Imagine my horror when I got an official letter saying that Mrs. James had already received it!  I had suspected he kept a woman in London, but married her?  It was one of the worst moments of my life, believe me, but what could I do?

Luckily my pension and my garden saw me through until I was no longer able to get around.  I am quite comfortable here in this nursing home, and they take good care of us.  I get letters and cards from my children and grandchildren, and imagine them all out and about in the world, although none of them are in England.  I’m getting tired of talking about it all now, and I feel tired.  Would you see if someone could bring me a cuppa?  Thanks, love.

The Leaving

I think I knew all along they planned to move to Canada,  Allan could finish his education and be close to his own mother.  They told me they would bring me over to visit, and if I liked it, they would be happy to have me come and live with them.  I wasn’t sure how I would feel about that, but I tried to put a good face on it all. 

The time came all too soon.  Allan would stay in London, awaiting orders to be shipped off, and Eileen and the children would leave on the Aquitania, a troop ship that had some room for the so-called ‘war brides’ and the Red Cross ladies who would look after them.  Eileen was to go to Toronto and stay with my sister Daisy and husband Fred until Allan joined them and moved them to his home in Montreal.  Eileen seemed excited about this new adventure, but little Jean, almost four now, moped and clung to me as much as she could.

At seven-thirty on their last day with me, I was in the kitchen, setting the round wooden table with my best rose-patterned china for the special breakfast I had used my last coupons on.

Thinking about the last few years and the changes they had brought, I couldn’t help but shake my head – Eileen had married so quickly, and the babies came so fast – three in four years.  And now they were leaving, probably forever.  I had always known she would marry, of course, but hoped it would be Joe, who lived only one house away.  I was brewing tea, and trying not to think about the lonely days ahead, when Edie Maidment from next door rapped on the door.  She had a little parcel of sweets for Eileen to give the children.  

“Chin up, old thing,” she told me, “At least the ruddy war’s over.  I’ll pop over this afternoon for a cuppa.”  As Edie slipped out the door, I could hear the girls getting up from bed, and turned to look at the stairs.  The girls were climbing down the steep stairs, being very careful, for there had been one or two falls.  Jean was scolding her sister for being slow.  “Come on, Wee!”  She left Mary to her own devices and came to me, burying her little face in my old blue-flowered apron.  She whispered, “Nanny, I want to stay with you.”  I could only hug her and say we can’t always have what we want. 

       As Eileen got the children seated, bibs tied on and breakfast started I could see she wanted to avoid talking with me, and I understood.  We got the children dressed and waiting by the gate for the bus that would take them to Portsmouth and their ship.  As they started to board Jean lost control and had a proper tantrum.  She had to be bodily carried to her seat, and I could hear her calling “Nanny, Nanny!” as the bus left.  I watched until the dust was completely cleared.  I would save my tears until bedtime.  At least the war was over, and I knew I should be glad.

Allan's War

         That son-in-law of mine!  Always getting into scrapes of one kind or another, and regaling us with his stories when on leave.  I never knew if his leaves were authorized or not, for often he came at night and left before dawn.  He simply couldn’t keep away from Eileen, who seemed to enjoy his visits as much as he did, from the sounds coming from her bedroom.

         It seems he was promoted and demoted several times, at one point being the youngest Warrant Officer in the Canadian army.  He was demoted once for driving his little infantry vehicle (I think it was called a Universal Carrier) into a tidal stream to clean it.  To his horror he discovered it gone, carried away by the tide.  He had numerous escapades with his Norton motorcycle, which he used on his night-time visits to Frensham.  On one occasion he collided with an army truck and was hospitalized for several days.

         He was chosen for officer’s training late in the war, and so missed D-Day, since he was on leave from Sandhurst.  When he was commissioned he was sent to Europe to join the Hussars, and commanded four armoured cars, leading the Allied troops to meet the enemy.  He lost all his new uniforms when an anti-tank shell passed right through the boxes carrying his clothes.  After a bit he received another set of uniforms.  He also lost these then an artillery shell exploded the trailer carrying them. 

         So Allan had his excitement during the war.   When V-E day was declared he came home on leave for a few weeks.  He applied to join the Canadian effort to defeat the Japanese, and on that day he came home to sit down with Eileen and plan their future.

'Nanny'

         From the time Eileen and little Jean came home to Frensham that baby became my special one – she was my pet, then and still.  When Allan came home on his occasional leave and took Eileen off for a few days in Portsmouth, or when they would go down to the pub, Jean and I would spend wonderful times together.  When Jean’s sister Mary Florence was born a little over a year since Jean’s birth, we grew even closer. 

         Two babies in the household, along with the continual worry over the war and rationing and never knowing when my husband would make one of his rare appearances made me feel more and more nervous.  Len was running around the village with his wild friends getting up to mischief at all hours, and more than once brought home by a home guard warden with orders to keep him out of trouble. Too often, it seemed, Eileen and Pete asked me to take care of the babies when he was on leave.   Finally, worn down by sleepless nights I went to see my doctor.  He told me it was because I wasn’t getting my monthlies any more, and I needed a few weeks of rest and quiet. 

         Where was I to find a few weeks of rest and quiet?  “I’ll take the girls and go visit Aunt Emily and Uncle William in Portsmouth for a while,” she told me.  It was a good solution.  They had lots of room in their house, and it would make it easier for Allan to visit her. 

         For two weeks I stayed in my dark house, taking the medicine the doctor had recommended and trying to ignore Len’s comings and goings.  I kept my handbag with he so he couldn’t filch what little money I had, and stayed in my bedroom as much as possible.  No sooner had I started to feel better when Eileen and the girls returned.  A bomb had destroyed the houses just across the street, and Eileen wanted to get back to my safe house.

         Mary had just started to walk when Eileen announced she was in the family way again.  By then Len was old enough to go out on his own and help with the war effort, so we had a little more room to put the babies.  Little Allan made Eileen very happy, to have a boy at last.  She admitted to being a little disappointed Mary had not been a boy.  I had been please Mary’s second name was Florence, but I never felt as close to her as I did to little Jean, who was my shadow.

         Despite the stresses of having Eileen’s family living with me, and despite the hardships of wartime, they were happy years for me.  Despite rationing, birthdays and Christmas holidays were special, times to look forward to and celebrate.  I had given little thought to the end of the war, and what would happen to the children.  Would they stay with me, in our little English village, or go to far away Canada?