Trips up North

Story contd.

I may have lived most of my life in the south, but I come from good northern stock and my blood has bits of grit and soot in it; I am proud of my northern roots so I was thrilled when # 1 son chose a northern university. I was happy to think of him amongst the sort of decent folk I had been brought up with. The humour, the honesty, the love of countryside and mountains – I hoped it would all rub off on him. He certainly inherited a love of real ale and sport.

It was a long tiring drive so I would stop off at my parent’s house in Lancashire. I didn’t use the motorway so there were endless roundabouts. Once when driving his first girlfriend back – round about Essex - a policeman stopped me and said I had gone through a red light. In fact, as I told him, it was amber, to which he replied.

‘You can’t con a copper.’

I realised there was little point in explaining that I had been driving for hours with the sun in my eyes ( going south) and ended up paying a fine of £30 – a lot of money in the seventies.

At one time my son was living off campus in Morecambe and visiting him, I slept in an attic room with a skylight over the bed. How romantic I thought – I’ll be able to look at the stars. It was bitterly cold and I spread my mink coat on top of the bed and when I awoke there was a pool of icy water in the middle of it. I had the day to myself, and I remembered that Delia – an old nursing friend and our gold medallist, had written that her mother had settled, up near Silverdale, so I set off to see if I could find the house. To my joy Delia answered the door. She was visiting her mother and we had a great catch up over a delicious Lancashire tea. We both smoked then (the weed as she called it) but as she waved good bye to me at the station, I didn’t realise that would be our last meeting. She died soon after from lung cancer.

All their lives my parents had spent holidays in the Lake District and one week-end Dad drove us up and we met my son and stayed in a hotel in the Langdales. It was like going back in time to be roaming the hills with them again and we all had a great time. Dad never let me forget that – as a young girl – I had cycled the wrong way round a roundabout and he had difficulty grasping the fact that I was now quite an experienced driver. Once I was driving him on the main road near Tunbridge Wells Common and he thought the junction we passed was a main road and grabbed the keys out of the ignition. Can you imagine? Fortunately my mother, unlike me, had the ability to switch off and remain calm, so they survived over 60 years of marriage.

.When Mum eventually retired – she worked past 70, she looked years younger and I don’t think they realised how old she was – she loved to come down and visit and she and William used go on long walks. It was nice for him to have a walking companion who wasn’t perpetually asking if we were nearly there – as the kids and I were wont to do. Occasionally she was taken for his wife and I was happy that they both got on so well.

Driving through Skipton on a visit home Mum asked me if I knew Jamie had bought a cottage near Skipton – Maddie had told her. I remember wondering if I would recognise him if I bumped into him. And then I thought how ridiculous – after 30 years I’d probably walk straight past him.

One of my happiest days was going up north with William to see our son get his degree. Our younger son was happily settled in a flat and had started training to be a photographer. I felt our marriage hadn’t been a complete failure. That was 1978. I little knew what fate had in store for me and that within a year, my life would change for ever.