The Quiet Woman

May Dixon Barnes

1910-2000

‘I don’t think we should talk about that Pat.’

I was cam-cording an interview with my mother; she was about to leave her home of over 60 years to settle in America and I knew this could be the last chance to ask her questions that had always been on my mind. She had fallen in love with my father aged 17 and got pregnant. I managed to persuade her she had nothing to be ashamed of and she answered my questions. After the initial shock her parents were a tower of strength and there was never any question other than she should have the baby.

Yes my father wanted to marry her – he had always wanted to marry her, but knew Gran would never allow it. Not only was he not a Catholic but Gran, somewhat of a snob, would feel Mum was marrying beneath her. In time she came to realise his worth and thought highly of him for the rest of her life.

Mum said she blamed Gran because the only sex education she had was:

‘Don’t talk to boys.’ (Exactly what Gran had said to me when she was explaining puberty)

Mum and I had our last real laugh together when we agreed you could do anything you liked with boys and it would all be alright as long as you didn’t talk to them.

Mum got married in June when she was 18 and Maddie, a bouncing girl, was born in October.

May’s parents were comfortably off; her father was an engineer and they spent a lot of time in Portugal. Then disaster struck and whilst working in Africa he had an accident which left him with a crippled hand so they came back to Rossendale and bought a grocer’s shop. Gran - never one to be dictated to by circumstances took herself off to Edinburgh and trained to be a midwife.

Around the time May went to Haslingden Grammar School Gran had another daughter a sister for May so she was not so closely monitored. She told me she used to hide her dancing slippers behind some shelves in the shop and sneak out with them to meet my father.

They were married when May was 18 and Maddie was born four months later. They set up home together, Fred working at a local factory and May earning a little doing hairdressing in the home. A second daughter, Pat, appeared and they were allotted a council house on a pleasant new estate on the hill with a school and church a minute’s walk down the hill.

They never went hungry as her father sent up an ‘order ‘ every week with one of his 'bread men' and Gran visited every Saturday with fresh fruit and vegetables. Soon a little boy Jack was born – all the babies were delivered by Gran, her mother. Jack developed bronchial pneumonia and almost died. May was loving to all her children but Jack was always special and she also had a special relationship with her beloved father.

Maddie, aged 6 went to live with three maiden aunts who were no relation but the dear friends of Fred’s brother – Uncle Jack. It was something that everyone

seemed happy about – Maddie would have a better chance in life, she was close by and could come back to live at home whenever she wanted. It meant that life was a little easier for May with just two little ones to care for. I think as the years went by and her daughter seemed happy to come round every Sunday there may have been some regret. All three children went to Grammar School and had an excellent start in life with lots of love.

When the children were still little May got a job in the local slipper factory and worked there until she was almost 70. I think the firm were shocked when they realised just how old she was. She gradually became head of the clicking room and with another woman ran the first –aid department – which she loved.

Her passion was the country-side – a love she passed on to her children. She also passed on the ethic that you work hard and then get a reward – always something to look forward to. As soon as they could afford it they bought a motor bike and side-car and took the children all over the country but especially the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales. Sometimes Uncle Jack would have Maddie in his side-car but mainly she was taken on more upmarket holidays with the aunts.

The two younger children were climbing mountains from an early age and camping on the edge of Lake Windermere where they led a real Swallows and Amazons existence.

May’s persona was laid back, quiet and gentle and she had the whim of iron that often accompanies this. Once she thought the lavatory should be replaced. The council official wasn’t convinced so she took an axe to it to make it more apparent.

May and Fred were well matched: May ultra feminine, soft and silky, no hard edges and cuddlesome. Fred all male, handsome, devoted to sport and an occasional pint with the boys. Sometimes Fred would get irritated with May when, for instance, she read in bed at night and then woke Fred by snapping her glasses case. When he complained she would either smile sweetly or give him the look and a sniff and go her own sweet way.

Soon after her father died she took Gran in to live with us for the rest of her life. Fortunately there were intervals when Gran visited her daughter in USA and as we left home - her grandchildren.

May and Fred’s world really opened up when we children left home. She was a great mentor to me as I discovered men and the emotions they aroused. She would always calm me down and give advice which always seemed to work - mainly: ‘Wait and see what happens. They were free as birds and travelled at every opportunity and loved visiting their children. They walked every weekend and May did the Pennine Way twice – in short bursts. By then Fred wasn’t up to long walks and he would drop her and pick her up at the other end.

They came to stay every summer and I always tried to get May to cut down on luggage - without success. One time we met then off the train at Taunton - it was always a frantic rush to get the off the train before it zoomed off to Penzance. May indicated the cases to MTL and got off the train with her large handbag and holdall with thermos flasks, and enough food to keep them going for a couple of days. When we finally reached home and emptied the car May pointed to a bulging suit-case and said: 'That's not my case.' Back to Taunton we drove- a 60 mile round trip.

Maddie had a house in the States and in Portugal and every year they visited both – house-sitting for their daughter as she pursued her business in Europe. In his eighties when Fred was partially paralysed by a stroke May continued to take him abroad and to visit children. When he died they had only been back a few days from Portugal and he was regaling the ambulance men with tales as they rushed him to hospital

May had badges for all the blood she donated and did much work for charity. She was loved and respected by all the people she had worked with and walked with, over a long life and where there are flowers and fresh air May will be around.

My elder son said:

She loved Portugal, the country and the people. But she never really mastered the language. Somehow she always made herself understood though, mainly due to her charm and the linguistic talents of her hosts. I remember one day at a restaurant where four of us were scanning the menu. When it was May’s turn to order she studied the Portuguese menu once more and after some thought came out with “porko choppo…… wi’chips”. That brought a few smiles from the waitress but more importantly the right food which was duly dispatched. When the waitress approached for the second time May was more confident, “Na’then, what ‘ave yer for sweet?”.

Footnote:

That last camcorder interview was bitter sweet. Mum was emigrating to live with my now widowed sister in the States. She was 90. I knew there would be lots of flights and weeks when she would be alone. I had always imagined that she would come to live with us when she could no longer manage on her own and did my utmost to change her mind but she was adamant. I think it may have been her way of making up for the years when her daughter was with the aunts. Who knows? In the event my worst fears were realised and within a couple of months Mum was dead just ten days before her darling son Jack.