Abby Ch. 03

Abby did not return to the bar that night. She had a fitful sleep, eventually dropping off into an exhausted doze about five o' clock. She was awakened by a urgent knocking on the door just gone eight thirty, Wrapping her robe about her Abby opened the door, it was Mary, who was very concerned that Abby had not appeared for her breakfast earlier. "How are you child? We got worried that you didn't come down for breakfast." Abby smiled listlessly, walked over and switched the kettle on. "Now don't you worry about that, I brought some tea up with me." And Mary stepped back outside the door, and picked up a tray, complete with steaming teapot, toast, butter, and marmalade. Abby slumped into the chair, and Mary bustled around, picking up Abby's clothes which she had discarded haphazardly last night, straightening and folding, all the while taking glances over her shoulder to see how Abby was.

"You don't need to do that, Mary, I'll do it in a minute, I'm not normally as untidy."

Mary stopped and regarded Abby sympathetically. "It's not a problem, Abby, if I had had a shock like that, I don't think I would worry too much about the mundane things in life. Sam was really upset you know; he was quite uncomplimentary about your grandfather. He didn't know why your mum had taken off and now he knows, he's quite bitter." Abby was grateful for a little bit of comfort, and somehow the fact that Sam was disturbed too did help.

Mary poured tea for them both, and took the other chair. "Things were different then," she said, "not many girls could have told their parents that they were pregnant and too many girls in trouble ran away, had abortions from back street butchers and ended up in hospital, or on the mortuary slab. Trouble was that the older generation wouldn't talk about nor accept that sex existed, at least not until you were married, or over thirty. We heard about the swinging sixties, but it didn't happen much outside of London, certainly didn't happen down here. Your mum, God rest her, took a very brave course, and if she could see you now would be so proud of you, so proud that she would tell you that all the trouble she had, was worth every moment."

Abby looked over the rim of her cup with gratitude. "Thanks, Mary." She paused, "have you got any children?"

A shadow of sorrow passed over Mary's face. "No, Jack and I were never lucky that way." Her expression was enough to tell Abby that this was a regret that would not leave Mary, ever. But they were of a generation that did not complain about their situation, didn't demand help from the Health Service to get their perceived 'rights'; they just got on and handled life as it happened. She walked over and put her arm round Mary, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The great beaming smile that rewarded her was ample proof that the unintended hurt was forgiven and forgotten. "Now Miss Tregonney, what are you going to do today?"

The road to Paverton left the village and crossed the river. It wound its way through the valley in a switch back manner, dipping, swerving but generally on an uphill gradient. The river, road, and from the glimpses of embankment that Abby noticed, the railway, were now being pressed together by the confines of the narrowing sides of the Valley. The railway had to take a more meandering course, to maintain the easiest gradient possible, so as she drove Abby would see the remains of the track bed, first on one side, then on the other. Signs of the work that its builders had to do were evident in the bridges and small viaducts, which had carried the railway over farm tracks and streams flowing down from the hills to join the Lyney River.

There was less sign of habitation now, just an occasional solitary cottage set well back from the road, with the faint trace of smoke drifting upwards from the chimney. The river, which had gradually narrowed, could no longer be called anything other than a large stream. As the road twisted Abby had caught sight, when the trees allowed her, of a large brick viaduct in the distance which spanned the road, stream and valley. Drawing level with the structure it became obvious that this was for the railway; leaping from one side of the valley to the other, as ever keeping the gradients easy. The road too crossed the stream about half a mile further on, a much taller structure than previously. From this bridge Abby could see back down the valley; a superb view of the ground she had covered since leaving Combe Lyney.

The road now emerged into moorland for five miles before dropping down into the town of Paverton. The contrast between Combe Lyney and Paverton was most marked. Combe Lyney with its white Cob cottages, mellow brick, and thatched roofs, a contrast to Paverton grey, dull, stone built houses, with Slate roofs, each looking like a miniature fort, built to withstand the elements. As she neared the town centre, the streets became narrower, with higher curbs, which Abby had to consider when she pulled to the side of the road to allow an oncoming vehicle room to pass. The centre was dominated by what was obviously the market square, the Town Hall on one side could not be mistaken for anything else, and there too was the Police Station, next to the Magistrates Court. Another side of the square was devoted to a Church, it's simple design denoting the Methodist adherence of the West Country, and finally a small row of shops to complete the four sides. Abby smiled to herself, the four cornerstones of English life, Bureaucracy, followed by Legal, Spiritual, and Practical, it was amusing to note that the bureaucrats had built for themselves a larger, more ornate edifice than any of the others.

There was no market today so Abby was able to park in the market square itself; even here the inevitable Pay and Display notice invited her to buy some time. She was astounded by the prices, used as she was to paying London rates of two pounds or more for just half an hour, here the same money would bring her an entitlement for the whole day! Happily she paid the ransom, and embarked on an exploration. She was looking for a Library, and did not need to search too long, as outside the Town Hall a finger post pointed her in the right direction. The Library turned out to be part of the Town Hall building, its entrance tucked away round the corner. Inside the atmosphere was of calm sobriety, the reading room to the left of the entrance, but untroubled by customers.

The Lending Library door was opposite, and the reference Library straight on. Abby entered, and was immediately disappointed; the demand for reference reading was obviously small, as were the facilities offered. There was a Librarians desk just to the left of the door, and to the right along the wall was a table, obviously intended for the use of visitors. A young woman sat behind the desk reading an official looking volume, and making notes in a notebook, she looked up from the book with a questioning expression. Abby noted a nametag giving the girls name as Toni and explained. "I'm looking for material on the Lyney valley, with particular reference to the old railway. I would especially like to see any archive photographs you may have."

The young woman's demeanour brightened considerably. "A serious researcher! We don't get many of those; fact is we don't get any. The Tourist Information Office could easily answer most of the enquiries we get. Now let's see what we've got, it won't be much I'm afraid, you'll probably have to go to Taunton for in-depth material." She got up and came round the desk. "I'll show you the shelves and leave you to browse." Abby followed her through the tightly packed bookshelves, and they stopped in the Historical section.

Toni pulled out five books from various parts of the section telling Abby. "You will find that these cover the area generally, some will make reference to the Lyney Valley, but could be quite sketchy, Taunton will have much more detailed histories, but you have to wade through pages of facts and figures to find what you're looking for. I'll leave you to look, and in the meantime I will try and find something about the railway in the Industrial section."

She was about to leave when Abby held her back by the arm. "This is very helpful of you, thanks."

Toni gave her a mischievous grin. "It's much more interesting than researching Parliamentary Returns. I needed a rest from all those self-important worthy's." Abby took the volumes that Toni had selected for her to the table and sat down prepared for research. In pursuit of her hobby she had often done this sort of thing and had refined her approach. The Contents list were usually just rough guides, the index was the place to start, using key-words, and then listing the page numbers given for each. No sooner had she sat down and she realised she had not brought a pad and pencil. Toni was equal to the occasion, and re-appeared with another couple of books, a pad and ball point Pen.

"Thought you might find these useful." Abby smiled her thanks and started.

The first two Histories covered too large an area to warrant more than a cursory mention of the valley. The third made no mention at all save a note about the confluence of the Lyney with the River Bray. The fourth had more to say, but this only about the valley as a route used by a column of Parliamentary forces during the Civil War after the attack on Dunster Castle. Another page mentioned the building of the Railway by the Bristol and Exeter Railway Company. Here Abby was confused, she had imagined that the line was Great Western, and had been built by that concern. Who or what was the Bristol and Exeter? She made a note on her pad to start looking for references, another key word! The last book gave her the most information, with a description of the valley, with paragraphs about the quarries providing good granite, and another, which yielded Alabaster. It was from this volume that she discovered that the Comberford family had owned nearly all the valley at one time, and that their tenure went back to Elizabethan times. She scribbled furiously, making notes of interest on the pad as well as more key words to continue her research.

She then turned to the last two books that Toni had brought for her. Primarily concerned with the industry of the area, the railway network was written about only as an adjunct to such industry, mainly quarrying, that existed. These two books were very slim indeed. They did however give her another tack to take, as they both mentioned in the bibliography a book about Exmoor Farming. Abby collected her note pad, and picking up the books she called to Toni. "I'll just put these back."

Toni shook her head. "No leave them on the desk here. I have to record visitors and the books they refer to. Did you find anything of interest?" Abby showed the notes she had made, and the list of further research she would make.

"It's a start, but I suspect there's a lot more to do." Toni examined her lists, and ticked those books she could get.

"They'll be here in two days, if you want to come back."

Abby thought about it and replied. "No, thanks all the same." I'm only here for a few days, so I doubt that I shall be able to make much use of them. I'll find them in the British Library."

Toni's eyes widened. "Oh, you are serious in your research then, are you writing a book?"

Abby laughed. "No nothing as serious as that. I suppose I'm looking for my roots, my family lived in the valley a long time ago and I just want to know about the background, and how they lived. I've no other relatives to ask so I'm just casting around for anything that will build up a picture."

Putting the notes away in her handbag, Abby prepared to leave when Toni said. "I'm just going for coffee, would you like to come?"

This took Abby by surprise, but she nodded. "Yes, that would be good."

Toni picked up her bag, and led Abby out of the Library. "There's a nice place just across the road."

Once they were seated with their coffees, which Abby had paid for, Toni leant over the table in a conspiratorial manner. "You know, one of the quickest ways to find information is with a local Solicitor. Do you have proof of your identity?" Abby delved into her bag, and brought out a sheaf of papers, amongst which was her Birth Certificate, and her mother's long expired passport. She showed this briefly to Toni, who told her that there were only four long-established solicitors in Paverton.

"Most people at one time or another have need of a solicitor, and they never throw anything away. A Pound to a Penny, one of them has dealt with your family, and will still have the file, dusty it may be, but it will be there, and as the only surviving family you have every right to anything they have." Abby hadn't thought of this, and doubted that her grandfather would have used a solicitor, but it was worth a try.

Changing the topic she asked Toni, what she was studying so intently in the Library.

"Some of the local Councillors seem to think that the library staff are here purely to do secretarial jobs for them, work incidentally which should go down as election expenses, but of course doesn't. I was looking up references for one of them, which he will use in his canvas leaflet, shouldn't be done really, but as he's my dad, how can I refuse?"

"Well if it's for your father I would imagine that it all right." Suggested Abby.

"Not when I'm doing it in my employers time, and my employer is the Council." replied Toni with a grin.

Refreshed after her coffee. Abby followed the directions that Toni had given her and started looking for solicitors. The name, Tregonney, meant nothing to Bedwas & Jameson nor to Wheatley & Co. the third Solicitor, Mackenzie Davis & Partners could not help either, but suggested she try Chorister Brooks & Son, who had been in practice in the area longer than any others. She found their offices tucked away just off the main road upon which she had arrived in Paverton coincidentally it was Station Road. If there were such a thing as an archetypal solicitor's office, then this was it. Heavy Oak panelling supported the theme of gravitas and sobriety with which the profession deemed it appropriate to welcome their clients, a highly polished brass bell sat on the desk in the reception room, and a small notice next to it invited her to push the plunger to summon help. Abby did, and shortly a young lady, completely out of place with the surroundings came to see if she could assist.

Abby explained as she had in three other offices. "My name is Tregonney; my family at one time lived in Combe Lyney. To the best of my knowledge I have no other relatives, and I wonder if this practice had at any time any of the family as clients, and if so I would be grateful for any information you can give me." The young lady had to give this some thought, and then said that it would be helpful if an idea of dates could be given.

"I would think prior to nineteen sixty-five," replied Abby.

The girls face crumpled; obviously she had not even been born then. "I'm sorry but I couldn't help you, being that far back but if you don't mind waiting, I will see if there is someone who can help you." Abby sat down. The wait was likely to be uncomfortable, as the chair was one of those seemingly designed especially for waiting rooms, A high, wooden back, with the seat covered in polished hide as hard as iron. Magazines were available for those interested in Horse and Hound, or House and Garden, but reading really was out of the question as there was only one pitiful bulb to illuminate the room leaving a visitor in perpetual gloom.. Abby waited patiently, until she sensed rather than heard someone approaching the door to the offices.

A middle-aged man came into the room. "Miss Tregonney? My name is Brooks, the grandson part of the company name." He extended his hand to Abby who stood and they shook hands. Mr Brooks was initially inclined to explain that he was sorry but could not help her, having no recollection of the name on their Client List, but something about Abby made him re-assess the situation. This was not some poor relative desperately casting around in the hope that a long-lost rich relative had left them a legacy, here was a calm, self assured woman, who had confidence, and did not seem in need of a bob or two. Used to judging people quickly, he equally quickly made up his mind. "I myself am not aware of anyone of that name as a client, but I have only been with the practice for twenty years. If I could ask you to wait a little longer, I will ask our Mrs Forbes, who will undoubtedly be of greater assistance. She is out of the office at the moment, but is expected back at any moment, would you mind waiting a little longer?" Abby indicated that she had no objection, and resumed her hard seat. Just as he was leaving, Brooks asked almost as an afterthought. "Oh could we get you a coffee or tea, perhaps?" Abby wondered if refreshment in this place would be dire or plain unpalatable, so declined.

It was about ten minutes later, just as Abby's backside was becoming numb; an elderly woman came in through the street door, and would have swept through without stopping until she saw Abby.

"Is someone attending to you?" she inquired.

"Yes, I have seen Mr. Brooks." Abby replied.

"Oh good," the woman replied in a manner, which suggested that it probably wasn't so good. She then went through the door to the inner office. Two minutes later she was back.

"I'm Mrs Forbes; I understand you are inquiring about Tregonney." Abby prepared herself to go through the whole story again, but the woman forestalled her. "Mr. Brooks explained the situation, and to tell you the truth I do recall the name, but in what connection I cannot remember. However it would have been Mr. Brooks senior who would have been involved, I'm sure he would remember. Thirty years ago is no problem for him, yesterday, now that's a different matter."

Abby smiled digesting this information and asked. "Perhaps I could make an appointment to see him?"

Mrs. Forbes had a doubtful look on her face. "Well Mr. Brooks senior is retired from the practice, for some years in fact. I don't know if an interview would be possible." She saw the disappointment on Abby's face and relented. "It's most irregular, but I will telephone him now, and see if he could come in, perhaps tomorrow if that would be convenient for you?" Abby agreed, and resumed the hard chair as Mrs. Forbes went off to make the call.

Five minutes went by, and then another five, Abby's backside was now completely without feeling, after a further ten minutes Mrs. Forbes was back.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I had to let the phone ring for quite some time, he never answered a phone in this place, and hasn't got used to the fact that he has to do it himself now. But good news, he seemed quite conversant with the name, and will come in tomorrow to see you, would ten o' clock be convenient?" Abby was pleased that this uncomfortable wait would at least result in some advance.

"Yes, that would be fine." Mrs. Forbes nodded, and then relaxed and smiled.

"It's obviously important to you, I'm sure you will find Mr. Brooks can tell you a lot. In the meantime I have to go down to the cellar, and retrieve the file and other things, although I shall be surprised if it can be found easily after all these years. I shall see you tomorrow then."

Abby left the building with excitement rising. Just two days here and she knew more about her family than in the previous thirty odd years. She returned to her car, but decided to pop back in to the Library and thank Toni for the good advice. She was just in time as Toni was just about to leave. "It's my half day," she explained, "I get the freedom of Paverton once a week for half a day." the look on her face suggested that the freedom of Paverton was not as endearing as it sounded. They walked out of the Library together and Abby told her what had transpired. Toni was really pleased, not just because Abby had got a result, but also because her advice had worked.