The Stationmaster’s Daughter. Kathleen McGurl
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it.’
‘Is he now …’ Ena pressed her lips together and led Tilly out of the kitchen. ‘Well, Tilly, as you said, it’s time for you to go. Turn left along the lane, keep walking for about ten minutes and you’ll reach the village, then go right by the church until you see the station.’ Her tone was noticeably colder.
‘Is everything OK?’ Tilly asked hesitantly as she stepped through the front door.
Ena’s previously friendly expression was harsh. ‘That railway was the death of my father, and that society’s trying to rebuild it. It’s all wrong. I want it stopped.’ With that she shook her head and closed the door behind Tilly.
*
Tilly found her way back to the station, where Ken had changed into grimy blue overalls and was busy removing rust from one of the old railway signals. He looked up as she approached.
‘I was about to send out a search party. Where did you get to?’ His tone was joking but she could sense his worry behind it. She told him about her meeting with Ena Pullen and he made a face.
‘Oh, her. She’s the one who won’t sell us that length of trackbed. The death of her father? Rubbish. She’s just a miserable old so-and-so who doesn’t like change.’
Tilly frowned. She didn’t agree with her dad’s opinion of the old woman. Ena had seemed kind and caring, right up until the moment when Tilly had mentioned the railway. She wondered idly what could possibly have happened to have elicited such a change.
It had become an annual event for the last few years: during the school’s October half-term break Ted’s sister Norah would arrive with her three children to stay for a few days. They lived in London and loved coming to the country. Norah’s husband couldn’t spare the time off work, so she’d bring the children by train, herself.
It meant Ted had to clear out the second bedroom so that Norah and her 5-year-old daughter Margot could sleep there, but he didn’t mind. It was always a delight to have company. The two boys, Peter aged 12, and Tom aged 10, would sleep downstairs in the parlour. It was a squash in the small house, especially when they all sat around Ted’s tiny table at mealtimes, but somehow it worked. Norah would take over cooking duties while she was there, and Ted relished the break from having to do it himself. Plus, she was a fabulous cook, and he always ate well when she was there – her pies, pastries, roasts and desserts were delicious.
Norah arrived on the 14.25 from Michelhampton, one sunny but chilly afternoon. As she alighted from the train amid a cloud of steam, Ted doffed his cap to her but otherwise stuck to his duties. It was most important to ensure the other passengers disembarked safely and that the train left on time, having taken on more water from the water tower. He knew that his sister understood that his duties came first, and indeed, he saw that she had herded the children together and sat them on a bench on the platform, with their luggage beside them, while they waited for him to be free.
At last the train was ready to leave; Ted checked all doors were closed, blew his whistle and waved his flag. He stood watching it until the last carriage was beyond the end of the platform, and then turned to Norah with a smile.
‘So good to see you! I trust the journey was pleasant?’
‘Ted!’ Norah placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. ‘Yes, it was. We were six minutes delayed reaching Michelhampton from London, but the Coombe Regis train was held for us.’
‘Bill must have made good time then, on the way here,’ Ted replied. ‘Come along then, scallywags. Let’s see if Uncle Ted has some biscuits hidden in the cupboard for you.’ He picked up Norah’s suitcase and holdall and led the way inside, followed by the three whooping children.
A few minutes later the children were sitting around the little kitchen table, each with a glass of orange squash and with a plate of biscuits in the middle. They were arguing at full volume about whether custard creams were nicer than Bourbons, or whether Garibaldi were the best biscuits of all. Ted was pleased he’d made the effort to buy a selection from the village shop. It wasn’t something he normally treated himself to, but having always assumed he’d have no children of his own, it was fun to spoil his nephews and niece. He took the cases upstairs and came down again to find Norah had put the kettle on for a cup of tea. He smiled to see her making herself at home. Really, she was the easiest guest in the world, even if she was accompanied by three boisterous children.
‘So, Ted, any news?’ Norah asked, as she took his brown pottery teapot down from its shelf and spooned tea into it.
It crossed his mind to tell her about Annie, about how he felt every time he saw her, about his crazy dreams that one day Annie would feel the same way about him. Ted had always confided in his big sister. But somehow, this felt too private. Norah would get the wrong idea, and would assume he was walking out with Annie, when he’d never even had a conversation with her. ‘Nothing new, no. We had a good summer season, plenty of day-trippers. The line’s quiet again now, though. Had a train through yesterday with not a single passenger on it, right through.’
‘Does that worry you?’
Ted shook his head. ‘Not really, no. The line makes money in the summer. It provides a good service for this area.’
‘But if it’s not making money all year round, I’d be worried the railway company might be thinking of … I don’t know … cutting back, or something? There’s a station near one of my friends, up in Yorkshire, that is unmanned now. You have to tell the guard if you want to get off there, and wave a flag if you’re at the station and want the train to stop to pick you up. Do tell me to stop fretting, but I’m worried for your job, Ted.’ She passed him a cup of tea and they went into the parlour to sit down.
‘Bless you, Norah, for worrying about me. But this line is a goods line too, and there’s plenty of trade still coming by rail. Lots of work for me here, managing the goods yard.’ He reached over and patted her knee. ‘My job’s safe enough, don’t you fret. Now then, what are your plans for the week?’
She smiled. ‘Margot wants to feed the ducks in Lynford’s pond, and see the witch-stool, so that’s all easy enough. The boys want you to show them how to operate the signals. They said you promised as much, last year. And I want to walk along the cliffs at Coombe Regis and have an ice cream sitting on the harbour wall.’
‘Might be too cold for that last one, at this time of year,’ Ted laughed.
‘I don’t care. If I’m at the seaside, I want an ice cream, any time of year. I suspect the children would be happy to have one too.’
‘Did someone say ice cream?’ yelled Peter, from the kitchen. ‘Yes please! When, where?’
*
It was Wednesday morning, halfway through Norah’s visit. She’d taken Margot off into the village, for some ‘girl time’ as she’d put it, to feed the ducks and look for squirrels in the park, and do all the things Ted supposed little girls liked to do. Peter and Tom were left in Ted’s charge, on strict instructions to behave, not fight each other, and do exactly as their uncle told them, or they’d miss out on the planned trip the next day to Coombe Regis.
‘Show us how to operate the signals, Uncle Ted? You promised us last year you would.’ Peter was jumping up and down with excitement, as soon as his mother and sister had left.
‘All right, then. We’ve got some time before the next train is due to come through. Now then, you see how there are two tracks running through this station?’
‘The up line and the down line?’ Tom said, looking at Ted for confirmation.
‘That’s right. But actually for most of this line, there’s only