Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kate and Albert were married in Basingstoke Register Office. At the time they were taking their vows, the American Army were taking their first stand against German troops in St Mihiel, southern France and the first reported cases of the Spanish Flu had already reached England.
On a clear, bright September day, Kate and Albert and the Truscott family walked down the lane to Taylor Farm, where Florence and Nora were waiting for them.
Ted Graves was sitting on the cart, wearing a well-worn top hat and long jacket with a red scarf knotted at his neck.
And the cart! How it was transformed! Nora had enlisted the help of the two Land Army girls to scrub it clean and festoon the sides with greenery, gathered from the local woods and gardens.
There was scented pine for long life, myrtle for love and rosemary for remembrance.
Rex had been groomed and his mane plaited.
Woven into his mane were purple rosemary flowers.
Kate wore a lilac dress with a shawl collar and a buttoned sash, which Dot had made for her, with material supplied by Miss Florence.
She carried blue delphiniums, picked that morning from the garden and she looked pretty as a picture.
Albert looked the smartest he’d ever been, clean-shaven and wearing his best jacket, complete with buttonhole.
Kate just couldn’t stop smiling all the way as they paraded through the village and were waved at by well-wishers all the way to the station at Hook.
After the ceremony they made the long journey back again but this time as man and wife.
The Taylor sisters had gathered together some willing helpers and there was a wedding day supper ready for them on their return.
Dot moved out of the bedroom she shared with Kate, so that the couple could spend their first night together and although it was not luxurious or very private, Kate gave herself to Albert willingly.
She’d never stop loving Philip but theirs was a love that just could not be.
As she laid her head gently on the warm space between his chin and his chest, she felt that his strong arms would always be there to protect her.
When Ronnie whimpered in his sleep in the next room and Albert raised himself up on one elbow, his head turned to listen, she knew he would love Ronnie too and be a good father to him.
There was not the room in the small family cottage for Kate, Albert and Ronnie to stay for very long.
So, Albert had made plans for them to lead a more independent life.
The prospects for Albert in Micklewell were limited and the work at the farm, though enjoyable, had only ever been a means of adapting to life outside the army and bringing in a little money in order to get by.
Now he had a family to support. He needed a better paid job.
He turned to Florence Taylor for some guidance.
‘I do enjoy working on the farm, Miss Taylor,’ he said, ‘and the pay has been enough when it was just me but . . .’
‘It’s quite all right, Albert, I understand,’ Florence said. ‘You’re a family man now. Why don’t you go and talk to Tucker, the landlord at the Queen’s Head? He keeps his ear to the ground. He’ll know if there are any opportunities for you elsewhere.’
Tucker turned out to be a very useful source of information.
‘They’re recruiting on the railways at the moment.
All part of the war effort. They’re building branch lines all over, to assist the transport of ordnance from factories throughout Hampshire down to the docks in Portsmouth,’ he explained.
‘You’re a strong bloke,’ he continued, looking Albert up and down.
‘If I had the money I’d employ you here to save me humping those barrels about, but I can’t take on any more workers at the moment. ’
Albert acted immediately and got himself over to Hook station to ask about the possibility of employment on the railways.
‘Got any experience?’ the station master asked.
‘No, but since I was discharged from the army, I’ve been doing heavy work on a farm the past year and there’s not much I can’t turn my hand to. I’m a fast learner,’ Albert replied.
‘Well, I can’t do anything for you here, you’ll have to get yourself over to the main station at Basingstoke. That’s where they do all the signing on,’ the station master said.
Albert got straight back on his bike and cycled the seven miles to Basingstoke where he was asked to wait until the station manager could see him.
An hour later he was called into an office painted green and cream with an enormous oak wooden table, covered in various papers and files.
There was a map of the rail network in the south of England on the wall and a poster that encouraged people to travel to Lyme Regis and Its Bay (delightful climate all year round).
Albert allowed himself a moment’s daydream about how wonderful it would be to take Kate there, but that was all it was, a dream.
He needed well paid work and then they must find a place to live.
Albert was offered work as a railway plate-layer down near the docks in Fareham, Portsmouth.
There was a need for maintenance and repair of the lines between the army supplies and armaments stores at Gosport and the docks.
He paused for a moment before accepting.
Fareham was a long way from Micklewell and Kate would perhaps be concerned about being so far from her family.
On the other hand, she had worked in service for many years and had been through a great deal with birthing Ronnie on her own and surviving the workhouse.
She was made of stronger metal than many young women. It would be all right, he told himself.
‘You could be sent anywhere along those lines,’ the manager said. ‘So I suggest you find yourself some lodgings in Fareham. That’s midway between the two depots.’
Albert cycled back to Micklewell with a broad grin on his face. The pay was good and they could afford to rent somewhere, a place they could call their own. He burst into the kitchen and announced his success with pride.
‘Fareham?’ Kate exclaimed when Albert told her about accepting the job. ‘I don’t even know where Fareham is.’
‘It’s down near the docks, Portsmouth way,’ Pa explained. ‘You’ll be doing important work, Albert, keeping those lines open. The supply lines to the docks are essential for our boys over there.’
‘It’s good money, Kate,’ Albert said. ‘You and I and young Ronnie will be able to have our own space. There’ll be enough for us all to live on. I thought you’d be pleased.’
Kate looked at his downcast expression and her tone softened.
‘Of course I’m pleased,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I’ve got used to being back in Micklewell, is all. I’m going to miss everyone,’ she said, looking round at the family gathered in the kitchen.
Ronnie and Tilly were playing happily together on the floor sorting a box of old buttons and swopping them with each other. They laughed when Jimmy, the cat, jumped in amongst them and started padding them with his paws.
‘Tilly will miss Ronnie,’ Kate said.
‘But they will still be able to see one another from time to time,’ Albert said. ‘I get special rate fares on the railways now I’m working for them.’
‘Yes, and think what fun it will be for me to come down and see you.’ Dot smiled.
‘It’s a good opportunity for you both,’ Ada said, joining in the general encouragement.
The family’s support for Albert and Kate’s new venture did not stop there being a tearful farewell.
There were hugs and handshakes and promises to write.
Ada had packed them a lunch for the journey and Dot had made Ronnie his own little drawstring bag to put a few of his special toys in.
They were waved off enthusiastically by neighbours and were soon on their way to Fareham.
The manager in Basingstoke had told Albert of a lodging house where many of their railway workers lived.
‘It’s not much to write home about, apparently, but it’s a roof over our heads until we can find somewhere else,’ Albert explained.
They struggled from the station to Queen’s Road with Albert carrying their bags and Kate holding a sleeping Ronnie.
‘It’s not far now,’ Albert said. He stopped to put down the bags and rest his arms.
‘I shouldn’t have brought my mother’s bowl,’ Kate said. ‘It’s awkward to carry.’
‘We haven’t brought much that’s our own,’ Albert said. ‘I couldn’t deny you that. Your mum gave it us on our wedding day.’
Kate smiled at him. He was a good man, her Albert.
Mrs Morton, the lodging house owner, was a kindly soul.
She’d made them feel very welcome. The old lady made a fuss of Ronnie and gave him some biscuits she’d baked.
The two rooms at the top of the house were small and sparsely furnished but they were all they could afford until Albert got paid.
There was a sitting room with a fireplace, two armchairs and a wooden table with two ladder-back chairs.
The tiny bedroom had a double bed and a cot for Ronnie.
Bed linen was provided in the cost of the rooms and they could use the communal kitchen downstairs.
‘Best time to cook is before all the workers get home,’ Mrs Morton said. ‘After five o’clock it gets busy down there.’
When Kate kissed Albert goodbye on his first morning, she didn’t know how she would spend the day, but with the little money they had saved, she needed to find the nearest shops where she could get some food to last a few days.
Mrs Morton kindly offered to look after Ronnie for an hour while she got some essentials.
She pointed Kate in the right direction and she found the grocers and the hardware store.
She came back with bread, butter, cheese, porridge, potatoes, minced beef, tea and a tea towel.
‘Oh, I forgot the milk,’ Kate said on her return.
‘I can let you have some,’ Mrs Morton said.