Down an English Lane Read Free

John grew from a baby to a toddler, and now to a sturdy little boy of almost four, learning as he developed to say ‘Mama’ and ‘Dada’, and then ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’, it had come naturally to Audrey and Tim, also, to start saying Mum and Dad.
    Maisie looked across at Patience Fairchild, the woman who had taken her into her home and made her so very welcome in the September of 1939. Maisie had loved her very much; and she still did. Patience had been a substitute mother to her until the time that her own mother, Lily, had come to live in Middlebeck, and the two of them, Maisie and Patience, had become very close. She was still Aunty Patience to Maisie; she knew that that was how she would always think of her, although she called the rector Luke, as did most of the folk in the parish who knew him well.
    In Maisie’s eyes Patience looked just the same, not a day older than she had six years ago, although she was now in her mid-forties. Her hair was a deepand glossy auburn, with just a few silvery wisps showing at the temples, and the bright blue of her eyes was the exact colour of the dress she was wearing; a blue background with white polka dots and finished off with a red belt. Patriotic colours, such as most of the women, both old and young, were sporting today.
    Patience became aware of Maisie’s glance and she looked up, smiling at her enquiringly. ‘Yes, Maisie, love? Are you ready for another job to do?’
    ‘Yes, I think so, Aunty Patience. We’ve just about finished all the sandwiches. D’you want some help with these trifles?’
    ‘No, thank you, dear. They’re just about ready, and we’re not going to dish them out until the children have finished their sandwiches and cakes. Some of them might prefer to have just the red jelly… Is there something the matter, Maisie?’ Patience was looking at her concernedly. ‘You seem rather preoccupied.’
    ‘No…not really,’ replied Maisie. ‘There’s nothing the matter. I was just thinking that today, well, it’s a sad day, sort of, for some people, isn’t it, as well as us celebrating the end of the war. Audrey and Tim; it’s them I was thinking of, really. It’s sure to remind them of their parents… Of course I know that you and Luke are their mum and dad now, and that they’re very happy…’
    ‘I know exactly what you mean, my dear.’ Patience put an arm around her and gave her aquick hug. ‘You’re always a great girl for thinking things through, and, do you know, you and I always seem to think alike.’
    ‘Great minds, eh, Aunty Patience?’ smiled Maisie.
    ‘Of course! Yes, as you say, Audrey and Tim are sure to have memories today, but let’s hope that the pleasant ones outweigh the not so pleasant. Although none of us must ever forget… It’s a day of mixed feelings for a lot of folk; for your friend, Doris, as well. She’s always bright and cheerful, bless her, but there must be times when she thinks about her father… That tragedy all came about as a result of the war.’
    Maisie nodded, remembering how Doris’s father, Walter Nixon, had been killed, not by enemy fire, but on a training exercise in his army camp in the south of England, by a stray bullet. He had not even needed to have joined up at all as he was over forty years of age and, moreover, he was a farmer in a reserved occupation.
    ‘Yes… Doris as well, of course,’ said Maisie thoughtfully.
    ‘But let’s not be down-hearted,’ whispered Patience in her ear. ‘Come along; let’s make sure that we’ve got everything ready. It won’t be long before the hordes descend on us.’
    ‘Audrey…’ she called to her daughter, ‘and you as well, Doris. I think the next job is to put a selection of sandwiches on big plates to put in themiddle of the tables. Allow three sandwiches each…’
    ‘Supposing some take more than three?’ said Maisie. ‘I’m thinking about our Jimmy actually. He can be a greedy little pig when he gets going, and I can just