Echoes from a Bitter Past

Dad may be contemplating retirement but for mum the work was never-ending. She stopped long enough to make a cup of tea for us and sat down to regale me with all the gossip.

"Mavis doesn't look happy."

"Oh! You've seen her?"

"Yes she comes back to see her ma and pa from time to time. The baby's a lovely little thing. She's called him Richard you know." That was quite a surprise to me and as I sat contemplating why she would have done that mum watched me with that 'look' in her eye. I grinned at her.

"No good mum. That look doesn't work with me anymore, especially when I have nothing to confess."

"No? Strange though. That she should name her son after you." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Perhaps it wasn't named after me; maybe she just liked the name." Mum made a noise like "Humph", finished her tea and got up.

"I have to get on." She returned to her bleach and damp washing.

Dad had been silent during this conversation and after mum left he lit his pipe then through the smoke I heard him say.

"She would have liked a grandson, and always thought it would be you and Mavis who gave her that." I shook my head.

"No dad. I don't think that Mavis loved me that way and I was certain I didn't love her. We liked each other, but that was as far as it went."

"Love!" He exclaimed bitterly. "Love isn't for the likes of us, Lad. When the pressures of keeping a roof over your heads, food on the table and clothes on your back come, love can go out of the window bloody quick. 'Like' will see you through. Leave love to them as can afford it." He blew more clouds of aromatic smoke into the room. That was typical of dad. He would make his statement then leave it in the air, never explaining himself. He would let others try to work out the meaning. "So have you got someone?"

"I see some girls from time to time. Nothing serious though."

"Don't bring us any trouble, lad."

"No dad. I am taking care." He nodded.

"Good. A man's got to sow his wild oats, but I am pleased you are being sensible."

Our conversation turned to what I was doing. His opinion of diesels was very low, but he listened without comment as I talked. He came alive when I told him.

"I had one up to a hundred and twenty the other day."

"What?" I grinned and confirmed the figure." He shook his head slowly.

"No one's done that since 'Mallard'. Even then they nearly broke it to get there." He thought about it. "Bloody hell! A hundred and twenty. I had a Jubilee up to the ton once. It bounced about so much that I thought we would be thrown off the footplate." He looked at me with a boyish smile. "Did it feel good?"

"Fantastic, dad."

I left mum and dad after chatting some more and walked down the street. I was thinking of just popping in to say hello to Mavis's parents. I had done as much growing up in their house as in mine. I knocked the door and her mum shouted "come in." As I opened the door I called. "It's me, Ricky." I walked straight through to the scullery.

"Hello stranger." The voice was Mavis. Her mum smiled at me.

"Cup of tea, Richard?" I thanked her and sat down at the table. Mavis's mum was cut from the same cloth as my mum and like mum always called me Richard though all my friends called me Rick or in Mavis's case Ricky.

"How are you, Mavis?"

"I'm fine, Ricky." She said the words but the conviction wasn't there, making me think that something was wrong.

"Where's the little one?"

"He's having a nap in the front room. Want to see him?" I nodded and she took me through. I was being polite really, as babies were not of interest to me. He had to be three years old by now.

"Why did you call him Richard?" I enquired. Mavis looked a little embarrassed and then seemed to gather some courage.

"I named him after you, as you were the best friend I ever had."

"Didn't your husband...It's David isn't it? Didn't he have anything to say about it?"

"He didn't care. He never wanted to know anything about me so I never talked about you."

"Still, I would have thought he would want to have some say in the matter."

"No, Ricky. He's just not interested, not in Richard nor in me." Her words and the sadness in her voice as she said them confirmed my earlier impression.

I thanked Mrs. Johnson for the tea, saying I should get back to the station. Mavis asked if she could walk with me. Her mum would look after Richard if he woke. We set out. It would take about fifteen minutes to get to the station. As soon as we turned right out of the street Mavis linked her arm through mine.

"I didn't say anything in front of mum, but I haven't seen David for six months. I think he's left me."

"Oh shit." Not the response that some would have made, but it was good enough for the moment. Mavis seemed to agree.

"Yes." We walked in silence for a while.

"How are you managing?" I asked her.

"I get my Child Allowance. I cash a cheque from time to time; they are always honoured so he must be putting money into the account."

"Well I suppose that is something. But what about the future?" Mavis shrugged her shoulders.

"The rent is paid for another six months and I'll stay to see if he comes back in that time. If he doesn't, I suppose I will have to move back in with mum and dad."

"What will you do then?"

"I saw a solicitor. He says wait for two years then divorce him for desertion, that is if I can find him and he will agree. If not I have to wait five years."

We walked into the station. At the barrier she turned to me.

"It's so good to see you again and all I've done is talk about my troubles. Your mum says you are doing well. I'm pleased about that."

"It's a lot better than the engine shed," I said , holding up my hands "Look I have clean hands now." Mavis looked shamefaced.

"I'm sorry about that. I feel awful having said that to you it was so unfair of me." On reflection that was a churlish action on my part, to remind Mavis of our only disagreement. Mavis went on. "Perhaps sometime you could tell me all about what you are doing? It seems ages since we had a good chat. How often do you get down here?"

"At the moment quite frequently. I am involved with the testing of the Blue Pullmans. If you are on the phone I could give you a ring next time? We can have a good chat then."

"I'd like that. David had the phone in for work. I haven't heard it ring for weeks. Perhaps his employers and friends know he isn't living there anymore." I got out a pencil and a bit of paper and noted her number. "Call me anyway. It would be nice to hear a friendly voice from time to time." I found my ticket in my breast pocket.

"I should go now. My train will be in soon." I went to kiss her cheek but at the last minute she turned her head and my lips collided with hers. She gripped my arms and held me until our lips parted. She smiled shyly.

"Quite like old times, eh Ricky?"

"Yes. But you weren't a married lady then."

"I don't really think I am a married lady now. I certainly don't feel like one."

During the journey back to Derby I was thinking about Mavis's problem. I didn't really know why, but somehow I felt responsible for her and needed to help her if I could. My mind at times told me that I should have married her even if the child wasn't mine. Then it was telling me that I had let her down when she needed me. That was stupid! I hadn't got her in that condition, why should I pick up the pieces? Then my mind reminded me that Mavis had always been there for me, she was my friend and that's what we do for friends. This was to give me a few uncomfortable nights in the next week or two.

When I had moved up to Derby I had signed on at the local Technical College to do a course. I was doing it part-time fitting in the study around my somewhat chaotic work patterns. I had taken the final exams a few weeks ago and one morning the letter informing me of my achieving the required standard dropped through my letterbox. The course didn't have too much relevance to my work, but it was a grounding in diesel technology. I showed the certificate to the head of the research department. He was quite interested.

"Richard, this department is going to expand and anyone who has the gumption to go out and get some qualification off his own bat will have a future here. The Pullmans are not performing as well as we would like, anyway they are too elitist and we are looking to move on with something much faster. We won't get the funding until the board get off their respective arses and make a decision, but there is a lot to do. We have to look at safety for a start, vigilance control, braking, better advance warning, a bit like the GWR's system but suitable for the high speeds we are contemplating. There's a lot to do and someone like you should be involved." I liked what he was telling me. My work from that point was very interesting although I didn't get the chance to drive at high speed for quite a while, in fact most of the time I was piloting a single coach up and down a test track of some three hundred yards at speeds of ten miles per hour maximum. This was testing various systems of automatic train control.

With an eye to the future they had developed a light railcar that could be used over lightly laid lines. We knew that many of the branch lines would be closed; Dr. Beeching had outlined that in his report because of the expense of maintaining them. It was silly really, a line that would see traffic of a two coach train every couple of hours over track that was maintained to full main line condition. There was already legislation on the statute book for light railway orders which would suit our railcar and it could be operated by one man stopping at simple ground level platforms. However for some reason this option was never considered. The fact that the Minister for Transport in those days was from a family that owned a road construction business was purely coincidental.

I phoned Mavis one evening to explain that I wouldn't be down for some time, as the testing of the Blue Pullmans had come to an end. The BR board was not happy with them and decided not to build any more after the first phase.

"Oh Ricky, I am disappointed, I was looking forward to seeing you."

"Sorry Mavis. We are getting quite busy here. I will try to get a weekend soon and come down to Brum. Have you heard anything from David?"

"Not a peep. I phoned his work and they said he had given his notice seven months ago. They thought he was moving to Scotland and a new job. They didn't seem too surprised that I wasn't with him." There was a hesitation for a moment then Mavis went on. "I have told mum and dad. They said to move back home straight away."

"Will you move back home?"

"Eventually I will. But for the moment I will stay here. After all the rent is paid for the next few months, no point in wasting the money."

"Does Richard miss his dad?" She laughed bitterly.

"He never really knew him. David was definitely not a doting father, more of a stranger than anything else." I closed the conversation by assuring Mavis that I would get down there soon and that I would see her.

Life kicks us in the teeth at times. Two days later I was the one needing a shoulder to cry on. I was just about to leave for work; it was six-thirty in the morning, when I saw a car draw up outside the cottage. A policeman and a policewoman got out and walked up the short path to my door. I opened it before they had knocked.

"Can I help you?"

"Mr. Gilson?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Richard Gilson?"

"That's me." The policewoman then spoke.

"I'm sorry Mr. Gilson. We have been asked by Birmingham City Police to contact you. I'm sorry to tell you that there was a house fire at your parent's house last night. From the information we have it appears that there were three victims. I am so sorry to have to give you this tragic news." I was stunned and leant against the door jamb for support. Mum, Dad and William, all dead? It wasn't possible. Yet the sympathetic expression on the young policewoman's face told me it was.

Chapter Three

Authors note: Steam engine drivers were placed in a category according to their experience and route knowledge. These categories were known as Links. Top link drivers usually drove the fastest and most prestigious expresses.

I was able to get to my old home very quickly, thanks to the unofficial help of the station staff at Derby who held a train for three minutes for me. I travelled with the driver in his cab an old steam driver who had converted to diesels. When I mentioned the family name he was shocked.

"Your dad is Reg Gilson?"

"Yes."

"I fired for him for quite some time. I am really sorry to hear your news. I'll let the others in the Link know, if you don't mind. I am sure they will want to know."

He broke the rules and stopped the train at Saltley for me. I ran down the platform ramp to the track and crossed the myriad of lines there finding the gap in the fence that led to the terrace of houses. The house was superficially intact, but as I got closer I could see the windows staring at nothing with blind eyes like a Roman statue. There were a few people still gathered around, the firemen of course, a policeman and the neighbourhood wives, who no doubt were deciding how the fire had happened despite the informed comment of the firemen. I walked quietly and took a position across the road silently contemplating the destruction. Firemen were clearing out anything that could still harbour an ember and throwing stuff out of the glassless windows. I recognised so many items of familiar furniture piled haphazardly in the street, partially burned and blackened. Mrs. Johnson was one of the small gathering and as she talked she turned and saw me. She left the others and walked over. Enfolding me in her arms she cried in a broken voice.

"Oh Richard. This is a terrible thing. Why could it happen to such nice people? You poor boy, you must be heartbroken."

I suppose I should have been, but for the moment I was simply shocked. From Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Wilkins and the Fireman I gathered what had happened. However the fire started it would appear that dad had got mum out of the house and went back to get William. He wasn't seen again. Mum was taken to hospital where she died as a result of smoke inhalation. The fireman commented about dad.

"He must have had good lungs; he would probably have got as much smoke as your mother." Somewhere in my mind the reason came to me, a moment of logic from a brain trying to cope with the tragedy.

"He drove steam engines all his life. Drivers and Firemen get used to smoke and fumes on the footplate." He nodded.

"Yes. That would do it. He had guts as well, to go back into that." He indicated the blackened building. "It looks as if the fire started in the upstairs back room." That had been my and Williams bedroom. William had always been fascinated with matches. He would strike them, watch them burn then throw them down. There were burn marks on all our furniture. Mum and dad had made sure that the household matches were kept away from where William could find them. I supposed that somehow he had got hold of some and in all probability started the blaze. I didn't say anything about this. My brother had a wretched life with his illness; I wasn't going to condemn him to be remembered as the arsonist who killed his own family.

There was little that I or anyone for that matter could do at this moment. The Firemen would make sure that everything was dampened down and secure the house not that there was anything of value in there. The neighbours who had been evacuated were allowed to go back and I was offered so many cups of tea that if I had drunk them I would be afloat. I went back with Mrs. Johnson. I did accept her offer of tea, although I would have liked something stronger.

"Richard. If you need a bed for the night there is Mavis's old room."

"Thanks all the same, Mrs Johnson. I left Derby in so much of a hurry that I only have the clothes I stand up in. I'll go home soon, and will probably be down tomorrow. I shall have to speak to the insurance man and arrange the funerals."

"Give it a couple of days, Lad. They're not in a hurry. Come here though, I'll get you a meal, and if you need to stay over there will be a bed for you."

The next day back in Derby I got a phone call from the Insurance man a Mr. Robins. I knew that dad had some insurance with the Co-op but I was surprised that he had taken out insurance for funeral expenses. They would do everything, but needed a death certificate in order to collect the bodies from the hospital mortuary. There had to be an Inquest but in his view that would be a formality. Mum, Dad and William would be interred in the same grave at Yardley Cemetery. Mr. Robins also told me that there would be a small Life Insurance benefit of approximately fifteen hundred pounds, but with the accidental death benefit it would approach double that figure.

That evening I got a call from Mavis.

"Oh Ricky." She blubbered. "What a terrible thing to happen. I couldn't believe it when mum told me." People often say the words of sympathy for the bereaved out of politeness with little emotion. Mavis stuttered and garbled the words as her emotion spilled over. She felt much as I would feel if her parents had been killed; a terrible sense of loss. When she had calmed down I told her what had happened. She showed how much she was involved with my family when she asked.

"Do you think that William was playing with matches again?"

"I think it's a possibility. Without proof we will never know, so I didn't say anything to the fire people. I now understand there has to be an inquest. It's probably better that nothing is said."

"Yes. I think you are right. You don't want to blacken William's name."

The Inquest was a formality. It happened so quickly I didn't even get down for the hearing. I had to go to the Coroner's court to get the Death Certificate and register the deaths. I left a copy with Mrs. Johnson for the Co-op Insurance man. They were as good as his word and arranged everything. Three weeks after the fire I was standing in Yardley Cemetery watching three coffins being lowered down into the communal grave. I was surprised at how many people came. I doubted that any locomotives were being driven that day as so many drivers came to pay their respects to a colleague. There was also a large contingent from South Wales. Our family came from South Wales despite the name and dad was a frequent visitor to the area as he drove the expresses from Birmingham to Cardiff and Swansea. Mavis, looking very good in black hung onto my arm, offering support although I thought that I was giving her more support than she was giving me. I was stoic and calm all the way through the short service and at the graveside, but after the graveside service as people were preparing to leave the sound of those beautiful Welsh voices singing 'The day Thou gavest Lord has ended' was too much and tears trickled down my cheeks. Although her cheeks were wet from crying Mavis took the handkerchief from my top pocket and wiped my tears away.

Chapter four

Life has an even tenor and with the drama over my life settled back into its orderly fashion. My work continued much as it had been for the last few months. Some would have described it as boring but with my interest in what we were doing and the questions that I asked the research technicians tended to look on me as part of their team rather than just as the functionary required to drive their test bed. With no reason to go to Birmingham anymore my contact with my erstwhile neighbours and Mavis dropped off to the occasional phone call. She was always happy to hear from me and I found it difficult to bring our phone conversations to an end as she seemed loathe to allow the call to end. One of our conversations was very illuminating. It would appear that apart from his original seduction, David had shown no interest in Mavis as a sexual partner.