pleased by the compliment just the same.
‘She seems quite taken with the idea of moving to somewhere like Tregarron when Florence’s da retires,’ Iris went on.
‘Is he thinking of doing that? He can’t be all that old,’ Bill asked.
‘I think he’s about the same age as you, Da, or perhaps a bit older. At least he looks it, but I don’t think he’s about to retire. I think it’s just wishful thinking on Mrs Taylor’s part. I did enjoy myself though; we sat out in the garden at the back of the house and had our tea there. It was so quiet, Mam, and they have a small front garden too.’ Iris sat down opposite her mother.
‘Oh, wouldn’t that be a treat? You certainly wouldn’t want to sit out in that yard. Now, tell me all about the house and Florence’s mother,’ Kate pressed, wanting to learn more about this woman who didn’t work or run a business, wholived in a house with two gardens and who didn’t bake.
Charlie appeared engrossed in the article he was reading in the Sunday newspaper but he was listening intently to everything Iris was saying, remembering too how she had said Florence’s father looked older than his da. Running a business on the scale of Taylor’s Coal Merchants must be quite worrying, he thought, and with no sons to either help or leave the business to – only Florence and what would a young girl like her know about business? The wife didn’t seem to be all that interested in it either. If Iris was to be believed she wanted him to retire and move out of Liverpool and maybe in time he would, providing there was someone he could trust to run the business for him . . . a son-in-law perhaps?
An idea was taking shape in his mind. Why not? Florence was pretty enough, well brought up and probably not as strong-willed as Iris. It could be just the opportunity he was looking for to become both successful and well off and as far as he could see opportunities like that were as rare as hens’ teeth. He’d survived the war and he’d sworn that he wouldn’t waste the rest of his life, which was just what he would do if he remained a clerk with the Blue Funnel Line for ever, slaving away for a pittance to put money in someone else’s pocket. No, he hadn’t endured the horrors of the trenches just to come back to a menial position and a hand-to-mouth existence. He wanted something far better than that.
Chapter Five
R OSE WATCHED THROUGH THE window of the bus as the Cheshire countryside slipped by: green fields dotted with trees in the shade of which rested black and white cattle. She’d bade a rather bittersweet farewell to her da and Iris and Charlie. Her emotions had been torn between the exciting prospect of a stay in Tregarron and the fact that she would miss them all. There had been tears in her eyes as her da had hugged her and said how he’d miss seeing her every day and Iris had said she’d have no one to relate the events of her day to; even Charlie had said it wouldn’t be the same without her chattering on at suppertime. But it was only for a few weeks, she’d reminded them.
The fields gradually gave way to gently rolling hills grazed by sheep as they travelled on and into the Vale of Clwyd. Katehad taken this rare opportunity of some leisure time to read one of the magazines Mrs Taylor had sent her and they were both quite surprised at how soon the bus stopped in the small town of Mold. Kate helped Rose with her case as they transferred to another vehicle.
After an hour they reached the market town of Denbigh. Rose stepped on to the pavement outside the pub where the bus service terminated and looked eagerly around. In front of her was an open cobbled space where a tractor and cart had pulled up; the narrow street they’d come down was steep and lined with small shops and there seemed to be plenty of people about. Of course it was nearing lunchtime, she realised.
Kate was eyeing the farm cart with some apprehension as Gwen’s brother Bob climbed down from the
‘She seems quite taken with the idea of moving to somewhere like Tregarron when Florence’s da retires,’ Iris went on.
‘Is he thinking of doing that? He can’t be all that old,’ Bill asked.
‘I think he’s about the same age as you, Da, or perhaps a bit older. At least he looks it, but I don’t think he’s about to retire. I think it’s just wishful thinking on Mrs Taylor’s part. I did enjoy myself though; we sat out in the garden at the back of the house and had our tea there. It was so quiet, Mam, and they have a small front garden too.’ Iris sat down opposite her mother.
‘Oh, wouldn’t that be a treat? You certainly wouldn’t want to sit out in that yard. Now, tell me all about the house and Florence’s mother,’ Kate pressed, wanting to learn more about this woman who didn’t work or run a business, wholived in a house with two gardens and who didn’t bake.
Charlie appeared engrossed in the article he was reading in the Sunday newspaper but he was listening intently to everything Iris was saying, remembering too how she had said Florence’s father looked older than his da. Running a business on the scale of Taylor’s Coal Merchants must be quite worrying, he thought, and with no sons to either help or leave the business to – only Florence and what would a young girl like her know about business? The wife didn’t seem to be all that interested in it either. If Iris was to be believed she wanted him to retire and move out of Liverpool and maybe in time he would, providing there was someone he could trust to run the business for him . . . a son-in-law perhaps?
An idea was taking shape in his mind. Why not? Florence was pretty enough, well brought up and probably not as strong-willed as Iris. It could be just the opportunity he was looking for to become both successful and well off and as far as he could see opportunities like that were as rare as hens’ teeth. He’d survived the war and he’d sworn that he wouldn’t waste the rest of his life, which was just what he would do if he remained a clerk with the Blue Funnel Line for ever, slaving away for a pittance to put money in someone else’s pocket. No, he hadn’t endured the horrors of the trenches just to come back to a menial position and a hand-to-mouth existence. He wanted something far better than that.
Chapter Five
R OSE WATCHED THROUGH THE window of the bus as the Cheshire countryside slipped by: green fields dotted with trees in the shade of which rested black and white cattle. She’d bade a rather bittersweet farewell to her da and Iris and Charlie. Her emotions had been torn between the exciting prospect of a stay in Tregarron and the fact that she would miss them all. There had been tears in her eyes as her da had hugged her and said how he’d miss seeing her every day and Iris had said she’d have no one to relate the events of her day to; even Charlie had said it wouldn’t be the same without her chattering on at suppertime. But it was only for a few weeks, she’d reminded them.
The fields gradually gave way to gently rolling hills grazed by sheep as they travelled on and into the Vale of Clwyd. Katehad taken this rare opportunity of some leisure time to read one of the magazines Mrs Taylor had sent her and they were both quite surprised at how soon the bus stopped in the small town of Mold. Kate helped Rose with her case as they transferred to another vehicle.
After an hour they reached the market town of Denbigh. Rose stepped on to the pavement outside the pub where the bus service terminated and looked eagerly around. In front of her was an open cobbled space where a tractor and cart had pulled up; the narrow street they’d come down was steep and lined with small shops and there seemed to be plenty of people about. Of course it was nearing lunchtime, she realised.
Kate was eyeing the farm cart with some apprehension as Gwen’s brother Bob climbed down from the
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