Time Goes By (19 page)

She was made most welcome and felt at home straight away. Tim’s mother was quite young – not yet fifty – and pretty, with a rounded face and a plumpish figure.

‘Oh, I remember you very well, dear,’ she said. ‘You’ve hardly changed at all.’

‘I must be rather bigger,’ smiled Kathy. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, Mrs Fielding.’

Tim had a younger sister, Linda, who was fifteen, and a thirteen-year-old brother, Bobby. She remembered seeing him in his pram, but she didn’t say so. Kathy could hardly remember Mr Fielding at all. She had known that he worked as an electrician for the local council, a job he was still doing. Tim had followed the same trade but for a different firm.

When he came home from work at six o’clock he, also, greeted her in a most friendly manner. Then they all sat down to a meal of steak-and-kidney pie and chips, followed by apple crumble with fresh cream. They finished off with a ‘nice cup of tea’, without which no northern meal was
complete. Mrs Fielding had been hard at work in the kitchen for the latter part of the afternoon preparing the meal, as she did each day. She was, as she said herself, ‘a full-time housewife and mum, and proud of it.’ Like the majority of her generation she had not gone out to work after her marriage, nor had she ever wanted to.

‘Times are changing, though, I realise that,’ she remarked. ‘I daresay you will want to go on working, Kathy, after you get married … Not just yet, though,’ she added in the rather awkward silence that followed. Kathy felt herself blushing a little; was Tim’s mother already thinking of her as a future daughter-in-law? But it seemed that she was just speaking in general terms. ‘I mean, that’s what today’s young women seem to be doing, to help with the mortgage and everything, till the children come along.’

‘Let ’em have a bit of freedom first, eh, Elsie?’ joked her husband. ‘Although there’s nowt wrong with getting wed young if you’re sure it’s what you want.’ Kathy wondered if he, too, was looking at her with an eye to the future.

She and Tim went out soon after the meal to catch the start of the film,
I’m All Right, Jack,
which was showing at a local cinema not far from both their homes. It was a rerun from a couple of years back that neither of them had seen the first time round. They laughed out loud with the rest of the audience at the antics of Ian Carmichael, as a graduate, trying to
find his niche in industry, and the superb performance of Peter Sellers as the shop steward.

Tim bought her an ice cream in a little tub at the interval, and they held hands all the time, like a real ‘courting couple’, which she knew they almost were already.

They walked back to Kathy’s home through the dark streets, both a little sad because it would soon be time to say goodbye, at least for the moment. They kissed several times as they stood by the gate, marvelling again at how wonderful it was that they had found one another again.

‘You will write to me, won’t you?’ asked Tim.

‘Of course I will, all the time,’ she assured him. ‘But you’ll write as well, won’t you?’ She knew that a lot of young men were not great at correspondence.

‘I’m not the world’s best letter writer,’ he confessed. ‘My mother complains about it, but for you … yes, I promise I’ll write every week, at least. But I’ll see you again very soon, I hope, in a few weeks’ time if I can wangle it.’

After another tender kiss and a fond backward glance he was gone. But Kathy could not feel too sad at their parting. She knew that what they had found was ‘for keeps’.

Their courtship followed the pattern of many of their peer group, where the young man was
completing his national service. Tim still had a year and a half to do. He managed to get leave, though, every couple of months and they spent most of the time together. Their love for one another grew stronger and deeper. They had both uttered the ‘three little words’ that meant such a lot quite soon in their courtship, both of them knowing that ‘I love you’ meant for now and for ever.

It was not until the Christmas of 1962, though, that Tim asked Kathy to marry him, knowing that she would say yes. Holmleigh was open for four days over the Christmas period, so the two of them had not been able to spend as much time together as they could have wished; Kathy wanted to make sure that she pulled her weight at what was a very busy time. Tim had given her a ring that he had chosen himself, a sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds which she loved.

They agreed, though, that it would be better to approach Kathy’s father – to ask for his consent, in the old-fashioned way – when he was not quite so fraught with his hotel duties.

Kathy and Tim said goodbye at North Station the day after Boxing Day, hoping that it would not be very long before he was home again. Tim intended to wangle a forty-eight-hour pass at the end of January, then he would ask her father if he would agree to them being officially engaged.

K
athy and Tim had decided that she should broach the subject in advance. She guessed, although he didn’t admit it, that Tim was a tiny bit nervous about approaching her father. She brought up the subject one morning over the breakfast table. Albert would not be running true to form, however, if he did not have something contrary to say.

‘You want to get engaged?’ He stared in astonishment at his daughter. ‘But you’ve only known the lad five minutes!’ Kathy could see, though, that there was a twinkle in her father’s eye, and she knew he was not as surprised as he was pretending to be.

‘Now, that’s not true at all, Dad,’ she replied, ‘as you know very well. I was at school with Tim; we’ve known each other since we were five years
old. I should think that’s quite long enough for us to know what we want.’

‘Aye, but you were only kids then, weren’t you? What I mean is … you’ve not been together all that much recently, with him being in the army. You’ve not had a chance to get to know him properly.’

Kathy smiled. ‘Tim and I are very sure about what we want, Dad. Anyway, he’s coming home on leave this weekend, and he’s coming to see you. I know it might seem a bit old-fashioned, but he wants to do things properly, to ask your permission to marry me. I’m just paving the way, like, because I think he’s a bit nervous.’

‘It’s not old-fashioned at all,’ retorted Albert. ‘You’re only nineteen … well, twenty in June, and he’s not much older, is he? Anyroad, I’m pleased he’s going to do things correctly. You’ll not be wanting to get wed just yet, though, will you?’

‘I’m not sure.’ said Kathy evasively. She and Tim were planning to have a short engagement with a wedding later that summer. It was now January, 1963, and Tim was due to be demobbed in March. His job with Fothergill’s electricians, an old-established local firm, was there for him to return to. They could see no point in waiting any longer as they were both sure of their feelings for one another, and had been so ever since they had met at the Winter Gardens, some sixteen months
previously. They had both seen it as fate that they had met again, and felt sure that if they hadn’t met at that time, then they would have done so at a later date.

‘Well, he’s a nice enough lad, I must say,’ said Albert. ‘Aye, you could have done far worse, Kathy. But I want you to be very sure, both of you. It’s too late once you’ve tied the knot. We don’t want any divorces in the family, like that Sadie Morris. She was a flibbertigibbet if ever there was one! But she had us all fooled. I’d never have believed it.’

‘But that’s ages ago, Dad,’ said Kathy. He did tend to harp on so about things that had happened in the past. ‘Don’t start on about divorce when we’re not even married yet. Anyway, that’s not going to happen, I can assure you, with Tim and me.’

‘You can never be too sure,’ said her father, shaking his head in a mournful way.

‘Dad, for goodness’ sake!’ Kathy was starting to get cross with her father, but she could see the funny side of it as well. ‘Don’t be so bloomin’ pessimistic!’

Albert smiled. ‘No, you’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I? But you know how I feel, Kathy love, don’t you? I want the very best of everything for you. I want it all to be just right.’

‘I know, Dad,’ she replied. Indeed, she did know.
He had been so caring and loving – overprotective at times – ever since she had had her accident and he had feared that he might lose her. She couldn’t say, though, that he had ever been domineering or dictatorial with her; besides, her aunt and Jeff had always been there to stick up for her if he had ever been too intractable.

They were taking their ease at the breakfast table. There would be no more visitors until the week before Easter, unless some of their regulars asked to come and stay for a few days. They were always willing to oblige their clients, and that was why the hotel had a deservedly good reputation.

Kathy’s aunt spoke up now. ‘Well, I think this is very good news, and I’m not surprised at all. You’ve only to look at our Kathy and Tim to see that they’re made for one another.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘And I’ve a feeling that Kathy thought so when she was only seven years old!’

Kathy laughed. ‘Yes, I always had a soft spot for Tim.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy together,’ said Winifred. ‘So let’s not have any negative thoughts about it, eh, Albert? You should be looking forward to your only daughter getting married, and then some grandchildren coming along!’

‘Well … yes, so I am,’ Albert admitted, looking affectionately at his daughter.

‘I must love you and leave you now,’ said
Kathy, putting her pots together and getting up from the table. ‘I’m sorry – I’ve left it a bit late to help with the washing-up, Aunty Win.’

‘Don’t worry, dear; I’ll have it done in a jiffy,’ said Winifred. ‘Then I’m going to have a day of leisure before we make a start on the attic bedrooms tomorrow.’

Kathy had a part-time job during the winter months when the hotel was quiet. She did the accounts for a nearby newsagent’s shop all the year round, but during the winter she served at the counter as well, to give the newsagent’s wife a well-earned rest. Albert and Winifred still caught up with decorating and general maintenance of the hotel during the off-season, with help from Jeff in between his commissions for book illustrations and greetings cards.

The four of them were a contented little family group. Winifred and Jeff had found happiness that they had not anticipated so late in life. Kathy was looking forward to marrying the man whom folk were referring to as her childhood sweetheart. She hoped that they would be married sooner rather than later, if her father could be persuaded to give permission for her to marry before she officially came of age at twenty-one. And as for Albert, he seemed to have come to terms with his situation. He was no longer bitter about the death of his young wife, the event that had altered his view of
life for so long. Nor did he resent his daughter’s friendship with Sally and Phil and their young family. He could see that the young woman with whom he had – almost – fallen in love was happy with a man of her own age, one who was far more suited to her than he, Albert, would have been. The only women in his life now were his beloved daughter and his sister. And, along with his devotion to them, his commitment to his church and his rediscovered faith were a great solace to him.

Albert did not take much persuading to allow his daughter to marry before she was twenty-one. The wedding took place at the church that Albert now thought of as ‘his’ church, on a glorious sunny Saturday in mid August. What did it matter that it was the height of the holiday season? This was Kathy’s day and she must have priority for once over the needs of the visitors. It was Tim’s day as well, of course, although the bridegroom usually found himself overshadowed, and Tim was no exception to the rule.

Kathy had insisted, however, that she did not want a huge fuss, just a simple buffet meal after the wedding ceremony, with family members and friends. There were very few relatives on Kathy’s side of the family, only her father and her aunt and Jeff; her grandparents had died a couple of
years previously. But Tim’s family made up for the sparsity; there were grandparents still living, as well as aunts, uncles and cousins.

Her wedding dress was a simple style: white silken satin with a boat-shaped neckline and an ankle-length bell-shaped skirt. Her short silk-tulle veil flowed from a neat pillbox hat decorated with seed pearls. Her bridesmaids were her friend, Marcia, Tim’s sixteen-year-old sister, Linda, and Sally and Phil’s ten-year-old daughter, Lucy. Their dresses, too, were simple, in keeping with the fashions of the day – sky-blue silken rayon in the now very popular shift style. Their matching pillbox hats complemented that of the bride, and they all, bride and bridesmaids, carried small posies of white and cream flowers: roses, sweet peas, lily of the valley and stephanotis.

The wedding breakfast – although it was at midday – was at Holmleigh, prepared in advance by Albert and Winifred and then laid out ready for their return from church by a team of hired helpers who would, later, see to the clearing away and washing-up. Kathy’s father and her aunt wanted to be entirely free that day, and so guests who would normally have arrived on the Saturday had been asked to delay their arrival until the Sunday.

It was a joyful occasion, with the toast to the happy couple drunk in champagne.

‘To Kathy and Tim …’ The chorus of good wishes echoed around the room, and tears welled up in Albert’s eyes – a rare sight – as he gazed lovingly at the daughter who meant so much to him.

The couple departed for their honeymoon in Scarborough, a train journey from coast to coast as they, as yet, had no motor car. Tim had a driving licence, as he drove his firm’s van, but they knew they would have to wait a little while before they could afford a vehicle of their own.

It was Kathy’s first visit to the Yorkshire seaside resort, although Tim had been a couple of times with his parents when he was a child and he assured Kathy that she would love the place.

And so she did. In some ways it was like Blackpool – busy and bustling at this time of the year, and it also had its fair share of amusement arcades, ice cream and hot dog kiosks and ‘Kiss me quick’ hats. She had to admit, though, that Scarborough had a beauty of its own that Blackpool lacked.

They stayed at a small hotel near to the Spa Bridge. Kathy was captivated by the view from the bridge, across the wide expanse of the bay to the busy harbour. There the fishing boats were unloaded, and beyond was the huddle of fishermen’s cottages on the steep slope of Castle Hill. And on the horizon the ruins of the old castle
were silhouetted against the blue of the summer sky.

Kathy would have loved the place wherever it happened to be, because she was with Tim, who was now her beloved husband. She had felt a little apprehensive about the honeymoon and all that it entailed. Their love had not yet reached its fulfilment, partly because the opportunity had not arisen. They were both a teeny bit old-fashioned about such things. The time and the place had to be right; besides, they knew that their respective parents would not have approved of them anticipating the wedding date.

She soon realised that Tim was as concerned as she was about the matter. They were good friends and companions, though, as well as being very much in love, and they knew that all would be well. Very soon they discovered that they were as attuned physically as they were in every other way.

After a gloriously happy week it was time to go back and settle into their new little home. They knew that they were very fortunate. They were getting off to a very good start, far better than that of many young couples embarking on married life. They had saved up themselves for a deposit on a terraced house, and both sets of relatives – Tim’s parents and Kathy’s father, aunt and uncle – had
contributed as well. The house was quite small, but it had a little garden at the front and also at the rear. It was only five minutes’ walk away from Holmleigh, and not too far, either, from Tim’s place of work.

Kathy intended to carry on working at the hotel, with Tim’s wholehearted agreement. The majority of young wives went out to work now, as well as running the home, but Tim had promised to help his wife as much as he could. Kathy, remembering his efforts at school, reminded him that he was not much good at handiwork! Between them, though, they had made quite a good job of wallpapering their bedroom and the living room.

It was an ideally happy marriage with scarcely a wrong word to mar their contentment. As a young married couple Kathy and Tim were a part of what soon was to be called ‘the Swinging Sixties’. As a popular song of the era said, the times were a-changing. The Fifties had started off with a period of austerity, when food was still rationed. But by the end of the decade Britain was again finding its way in the world and it was regarded by many as ‘the best of times’.

The Sixties came in with an explosion of colour, sound and vitality. Kathy knew she must buy a miniskirt to be in the fashion. The new tights, too,
instead of nylon stockings, were essential to wear with the short skirts. And a maxi-coat, almost floor length, and knee-high boots to compensate in winter for the cold around one’s thighs. She had her hair cut shorter, and tried to make it less curly with backcombing and lacquer, whilst Tim grew his hair longer …

They listened to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan on records and on the radio and television. And they actually saw the Beatles live at a performance they gave at Blackpool’s ABC Theatre.

They watched
Six–Five Special, Juke Box Jury, Steptoe and Son
and
Morecambe and Wise
on the television; and went to the cinema to see kitchen sink dramas such as
Alfie, A Taste of Honey
and
Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.

They both wanted to start a family, though, to complete their happiness. They were delighted when their first child, Sarah, was born in 1965, followed in 1967 by Christopher; and so were the doting grandparents. Winifred was, in fact, a great-aunt, but as near as could be to a grandparent. She had always regarded Kathy as the daughter she had never had.

Kathy stopped working at the hotel when the children came along; that was to say, she no longer went in each day, as had been her custom, to help out wherever she could with the waitressing or
general duties. She continued to help with the bookkeeping, although she could foresee a time in the not-too-distant future when her father and aunt might decide to retire.

The hotel and boarding house trade was gradually changing; it was necessary to keep up with modern trends to run a successful establishment. There were some regular visitors who still came year after year, but many had dropped away. Holidays abroad were now very tempting and, in many cases, just as affordable as staying in Britain. In this way, too, the Sixties was a time of change.

It was in the early spring of 1970 that Winifred told Kathy of their intentions.