Honour of the Line (19 page)

We were saving like fury to try and top up my £2000 so that we could buy a place of our own. We had more than enough for a deposit but Jill was only going back to work for three half days a week after baby was born and a 17 year old wasn’t regarded as adult enough to get a mortgage, but we had it all mapped out in our heads.

It was decided that Jill’s Mum would travel to the Registry Office with Jill, Georgina and Daisy in the taxi and Mum, Dad and I would travel with Sue, who had gone from being my teacher to my best man, so as to speak. I had no idea at the time but within 18 months I would be doing the honours of giving Sue away to some lucky devil. As we arrived at the Registry Office the previous marriage had just finished and lo and behold the bride had a big bump in her tummy. Wedding bells certainly never chimed for us as we were called into the marriage room in a similar fashion to me being called into the court. The only real difference was the lack of a policeman in uniform. The room was quite bare but it didn’t matter in the slightest to our small gathering, which consisted of those already mentioned, three of my mates, Jill’s friend Julie, who she had lodged with and Grandad’s sister, who I called Aunty Doris.

As I gazed into Jill’s eyes I could feel all the love in the world. I paid no attention at all to her clothes which I suppose, looking back, probably resembled those of a modern day darts player, I was just so happy. Indeed her 8 month pregnant tummy was probably smaller than many modern day darts players! We were probably only in the room for 7 or 8 minutes and it all seemed a bit rushed but it was easy to understand why, for as we stood outside taking some photos on the steps the next party were called in and, needless to say, this bride was also in the ‘pudding club’. It was just like a conveyor belt of young pregnant women and young men doing the decent thing and standing by them. The difference between us was that we truly loved each other and I would have wanted this day to happen even if she wasn’t pregnant.

Back at home we had a really great and happy time and as the day progressed other friends, family and neighbours popped in to wish us well after they had finished work. The real surprise package was Jill’s Mum. She seemed to really be in the spirit of things and was a great help to my Mum. Daisy followed Jill’s every step and I felt certain she now regarded Jill as her big sister. When everybody had gone poor Jill was absolutely shattered, it had been quite a day and she had eaten not only for two, but more like two dozen. I wondered where she had put all the food as she was really tall and slim before her pregnancy had somewhat changed her shape, but my word she stole the show alright. We snuggled down in each others arms in bed as we had an early start the next day. We were going on honeymoon to South Wales by train. We had gambled that baby McFirley wouldn’t say hello to the world ahead of schedule but babies could be unpredictable couldn’t they? That night I hardly slept a wink, I just wanted to cuddle Jill and feel our baby move inside her tummy. She had made all my dreams come true and it was so obvious that everybody really liked her and thought we belonged together.

Saturday 5
th
August 1967 and the alarm bell gives a really tinny ring and wakes us newly weds at 6.30 but nothing could have ruined our first night together as husband and wife. Neither of us were virgins but in fact we spent almost the entire night cuddling, although I had to admit it was a bit of a stretch to reach around Jill’s tummy as baby McFirley was growing wildly inside of her. Mum cooked us a lovely fried breakfast and Dad came and collected us in the coal lorry to take us to the station but he had put an old blanket across the bench passenger seats so as to try and keep us a little clean, but nevertheless we were going to South Wales, the land of coal mines, so I don’t suppose us smelling like a coal yard would have been much out of place. Our adventure was about to start as I struggled up the station steps with our old and borrowed brown suitcases. Jill was no help at all but then I suppose she had a valid reason bless her.

Our journey began on a cross country train ride to Reading, a journey which took almost two hours and when we arrived there we had a 40 minute wait for the express train which would take us to Swansea. It seemed as though we were going to the other side of the world.

My word, we were living it up as we went to the buffet for tea and sandwiches. We were like two teenagers on life’s biggest adventure which, in reality, I still was, although for the first time in my life I felt like a real adult man with responsibilities and boy was I ready for them!

As we waited for our train I stood there in amazement as the announcer called out the destinations and I so wished I had been there in my train spotting heyday but instead I was so happy to be standing there proudly as a married man with my lovely wife and our baby soon to be on the way. I couldn’t have felt happier, all was perfect in my world. Everywhere seemed like another planet. When finally our train arrived it was all so exciting and our train soon gathered speed taking us through the Berkshire and Wiltshire countryside until we arrived at the impressive railway town of Swindon. Our train seemed to travel so fast and it wasn’t too long before we descended into the four mile long Severn Tunnel and when we arrived in daylight at the far side we were in Wales. This was my first ever time out of England and it was so exciting my stomach had butterflies. Jill shared my excitement as she had never been to Wales before although she had visited many countries owing to her Dad’s army career. Jill had previously told me that she had been born in Toronto Canada, but she couldn’t remember a thing as her family had moved on while she was still very young. Her best words to me were “I don’t care where I’ve been before it’s now that matters to me and I have never ever been so happy”. My mind was in a daze as we passed firstly Newport, then Cardiff and headed for Swansea. As the journey progressed Jill started complaining of stomach and back pains but I made light of things by reminding her that she had eaten enough sandwiches, pork pies and scotch eggs to feed the British Army. This made her laugh but the pains didn’t subside and I began to put two and two together and come up with the same question ….. was baby on the way?

Luckily as we pulled into Swansea station our carriage door was directly opposite the exit and miraculously Jill somehow managed to waddle to the taxi rank and I struggled with our cases and I must have resembled an overloaded pack horse. Once Jill stretched out in the back of the taxi, thankfully her pains eased and it was about a twenty minute drive to the caravan park which was to be our home for the next week. The taxi driver dropped us at van 28 and the keys were in the door waiting for us. There was no sign of the owner but we had already sent our money by postal order so it was no great surprise. Our caravan was really lovely and designed for six people so there was more than enough room for us two. Whilst Jill unpacked I went to the nearby camp shop to get some basic food items, bread, milk, tea and coffee etc., but when I returned Jill was screaming with pain. Both of us decided it was time to call an ambulance just to be on the safe side. I scrambled some loose coins together and eventually I found a phone box and made the call. I had barely got back to the caravan when the ambulance arrived. The ambulance driver said Jill would be taken straight to the maternity unit at the county hospital as our baby was on the way. Talk about tension, the ambulance really got a shift on and we arrived at the hospital within minutes which was just as well as baby McFirley arrived into the world fifteen minutes later, feet first. I wasn’t present at the birth as there was a chance of complications but fortunately all was well. Seeing Jill’s smiling face as she held our baby girl proudly was a memory to treasure forever and it was so hard to imagine what Jill had just been through as she looked as fresh as a daisy and so contented.

Being aware that Jill needed to rest I didn’t stay for long and made my way back to the caravan to begin my first attempt at cooking for myself and luckily caught the butcher as he was about to close the shop for the night. Liver and bacon was the easy option, I had seen Mum do it hundreds of times and I was fairly successful considering it was my first attempt. Immediately after I had eaten my dinner I had the dubious pleasure of letting Jill’s parents know the news. My thoughts were ‘what if poor Angela answers the phone’? Luckily as the phone was picked up and I pressed button A the first voice I heard was Jill’s Mum’s. She sounded over the moon and asked me to wait whilst she got a pen and paper to write down the details of where we were staying. I only assumed that Jill’s father wasn’t within earshot as there seemed no tension whatsoever in her voice. Unfortunately there was no way of letting my folks know as nobody around our area had a phone, we were still paupers in some respects. There also seemed no point whatsoever in writing to tell them the news as we would probably be home before the letter had arrived.

Sleeping alone in a caravan seemed really creepy, it was lashing down with rain and it seemed the van was about to go into orbit with every gust of wind. I hardly slept but I’m not sure whether that was down to the weather conditions or my sheer excitement. I was on cloud nine. Daylight dawned and I knew this was the start of what was going to be a very peculiar day. Visiting wasn’t until the evening, although I was told I would be able to ring early morning and check all was okay, which gladly it was.

Around 9.30 I was just about to fry eggs and bacon for breakfast when there was a couple of soft taps on the caravan door. The nature of these taps didn’t indicate anything was wrong and surprise surprise, when I opened the door, Jill’s Mum was standing there. She had been travelling since the early hours to get down to us. She gave me a congratulatory hug and then joked it was lucky for me that she only had two daughters. This put me somewhat at ease and I could tell she cared more about Jill’s happiness than what neighbours and family would think. Immediately she took control of everything which, although I found somewhat interfering, certainly made my life a whole lot easier. She told me she would stay for a few days in the caravan which fortunately was large enough to get lost in and she also wanted to cook for me and do the shopping in her car, which made me feel utterly useless but she enjoyed helping and it was only for a while. That evening we visited Jill and I made a lame excuse that I was going to the League of Friends shop which gave them some Mum and daughter time together. By the time I returned the babies had been brought into the ward from the nursery and it looked so sweet to see our, so far unnamed, little girl lying in her plastic cot with a pink label tied to it which just said ‘Baby McFirley’. When the subject of a name cropped up I was somewhat taken aback when Jill said she would love to choose. This way way out of character for soft spoken Jill but I loved her so much I would have agreed if she had wanted to call the baby Maud or Gladys. Jill’s words would remain etched on my brain forever as she said “as she was born in Wales lets give her a real Welsh name”. “I propose we name her Gwyneth after that lovely sounding lady who looked after you and who I know will always hold a special place in your heart”. What a great name and what a great idea as little McFirley was officially from the land of leeks and daffodils. We told our decision to the ward sister who promptly filled in a new label and tied it to little Gwyn’s cot.

Back at the caravan, to say the least, I was fairly uncomfortable about making conversation with my new Mum-in-law but fortunately she made things as easy as pie. She had brought some beers and because there was no tele we played cards which was to be the norm until Friday when Jill was allowed to leave hospital. Typical Welsh weather was the order of the week so we spent most days sight-seeing from the car but it was a nice if, somewhat, strange way for us to get to know each other. This was a honeymoon with a difference! Not once did she mention Stan or Angela and I felt she must have been as uncomfortable as I was and my heart went out to her but she was making a real effort and I was beginning to really like her.

Friday arrived and at 2 o’clock my Mum-in-law and I went to the maternity ward as proud as anyone could possibly be and as we walked into the ward my Mum-in-law linked arms with me, which must have made Jill so happy. Baby Gwyneth was carried to the door by the ward sister which was the protocol in those times and when it was time to hand her over it just seemed so natural to let Jill’s Mum take her and it was all the more worthwhile as her emotions spilled over. Her eyes were so happy but full of tears and her smile said everything. We were in no doubt she totally supported us. That evening at the caravan it was a rather unusual state of affairs to say the very least. Little one slept, Jill was totally whacked out whilst her mother and I drank and played cards. Much later I was to find out that the evening we had spent had made Jill feel so relaxed. She loved her Mum so much and I could see why. On Saturday morning Jill’s Mum drove us to Swansea station and we all said an emotional farewell. We had no idea at the time that we would be meeting up every two months but there was a real warmth and pleasantness about our goodbyes. Our train arrived and I carried our suitcases into the carriage. We had somewhat more luggage on our return journey, namely a baby and we waved farewell as we made the long journey to Reading where we had to change for our slow trek across country. Jill was taking to motherhood like a duck to water and I sat opposite her as proud as punch watching her feed baby Gwyn from a bottle and then help bring her wind up. Somehow I wondered if I would be half as competent when I took my shift at bottle feeding. To say I had serious doubts would be the understatement of the century. We decided to push the boat out and get a taxi from the station which was quite extravagant as it was only a few minutes walk, but we had suitcases and a new addition and a taxi made things much more simple.

Mum had seen the taxi draw up and had left the front door open so I walked in first as though nothing had happened. Daisy gave the game away by announcing Jill had a baby in her arms. Mum rushed out and totally ignored me, the tears were streaming from her eyes. Excitement filled the house as two minutes later Dad got home from work and despite his ailing health took Gwyn in his arms which made her beautiful white baby clothes filthy from the coal dust but nobody cared, we were all as happy as Larry. Mum and Dad got Daisy’s old pram in from the shed and gave it a dusting down and to everybody’s surprise it came up remarkably clean. Families around our way only did second hand. Daisy, Mum and Jill took Gwyn for her first trip around the Arches and Dad took me to the pub for a celebration drink where the landlord questioned my age but when Dad pointed out we were celebrating me becoming a father he decided to turn a blind eye. We stayed an hour and returned home but the girls were still out, all four of them, doing a tour of the Arches. Somehow I doubted if baby Gwyn would be that impressed but this was reality, the rows of poor housing, the smoke from the factories and the uneven pathways but thankfully she was too young and innocent to realise the hardships of this part of town.