GOING SOUTH

GOING SOUTH

Time- our youth – it never really goes, does it?
It is all held in our minds’
Helen Hooven Santmyer(1895-1986)
American writer
Story contd.

I was upset when Dodie appeared; just when William and I were about to have a romantic meal together after a three week separation. I dashed into the bedroom to try to conceal my frustration and tears.  After rinsing my face with cold water and some deep breathing I went back into the living room.  William had made her a cup of tea and I’m fairly sure he must have said something because Dodie said,

‘I know you’ve cooked a delicious meal and don’t worry I’m not stopping.  I just wanted to make sure William was alright.  I’ll just finish my tea and leave you in peace.’

Now I felt guilty.  However she did go and we had the evening I had planned.  William had good news.  The flat in New Maldon was fine so he would move in, I would work out my notice at the hospital, arrange for the furniture to go into store and then join William at the new flat.  The owners Mr and Mrs Sweeney apparently were keen to meet me so we decided I would go down the following week-end.

New Maldon seemed quite a pleasant place and it was a short walk past shops to the station; convenient for both William and myself, should I do any modelling.  The Jones’s had given me Marta’s phone number so I could contact her once I was down for good.  The owners of the flat had invited us for tea and William reminded me that we were in the south now and that meant afternoon tea – sandwiches, cakes and biscuits at best – not the lusty high tea we had in the north – that was their dinner.  Lunch to us was what we had mid morning at school – in the south it was the equivalent of our dinner.  Crikey! Would I ever get used to it?

The flat owners lived in an old house next door and there was a husband and wife and teen-age son.  The table was beautifully laid with embroidered cloth and silver tea-pot.  Williams’s eyes gleamed when he spotted the crumpets simply oozing with butter.  It was a bit sticky making polite conversation and trying to eat at the same time.  William had an attractive speaking voice – apart from his stammer, but I wasn’t tuned in to this particular Surrey accent.  It wasn’t that Mrs Sweeney was posh because Fleur, my sister in law was posh and she had quite a raucous voice.  Mrs S spoke in a very gentle voice and was ‘refined’ so when she said she had heard I was very fond of ‘ceiling’.  I was puzzled and asked her to repeat her question.  She did so and I thought she was referring to my house painting and went off at a tangent.

‘No no! Ceiling!  Ceiling!’  By now she was getting a bit riled.  In a panic I looked desperately to William for enlightenment but his mouth was stuffed with crumpet.  He finally swallowed and then started to stammer and laugh at the same time which made every body talk at once in their embarrassment.

‘THE BROADS!’  William finally managed.  The penny dropped.

‘Oh sailing!  Yes we love it!’ I said trying to stifle my giggles.
Sighs of relief all round and I felt a prize idiot.  I couldn’t even speak the language!
In spite of it all I think we passed muster.  Although Mrs S appeared both fragile and whimsy it was clear who wore the trousers and she even gave me a light kiss as we said good bye.

The flat was furnished but I couldn’t wait to personalise it with our own pictures and linen.  We decided to hire a van to bring down essentials and the rest would go into store.  The next fortnight went quickly as I finished at the hospital, said goodbye to friends and family and at last moved south.  Hopefully we would find a house we could afford, settle in and, at last, start a family.  I couldn’t wait.

P.S.  I’m posting this early as I have a dentist appointment tomorrow.  Lovely!
P.P.S.  The Broads is a sailing area of rivers and lakes in Norfolk.  Very beautiful!