Their hotel in Scarborough was quite small compared to such places as the Crown or the Grand Hotel. It was situated on the South Cliff, near to the spa and the valley gardens.
After their evening meal Val and Sam strolled along the promenade northwards to the Spa Bridge which crossed the busy roads in the valley below. They paused on the bridge, gazing out towards the vast expanse of sea. It was not yet dark, although dusk was falling, and the lights around the South Bay were shining out, a twinkling necklace of bright colours in the fading light.
The great bulk of the Grand Hotel loomed large against the darkening blue of the sky, and in the distance they could make out the outline of the castle at the top of the hill and St Mary’s Church on the horizon with the roofs of the fishermen’s cottages on the lower slopes.
‘I can’t imagine a lovelier scene than this,’ observed Sam. ‘I always think so when I come here and now it’s even lovelier with you at my side.’ He put an arm round Val, kissing her gently. ‘Happy, my darling?’
‘I’ve never been happier,’ she replied.
‘And I hope you will always feel that way,’ he whispered.
‘I really think… well, I don’t like to say it… but Blackpool has nothing to compare with a view like this, has it?’ said Val. ‘Even though that’s where we found one another, and it’ll always have a special meaning for us.’
‘It has very little natural beauty but Blackpool is unique. I know the folk in Lancashire think so,’ said Sam. ‘It was thoughtful of Janice and Phil to give us that picture. It’s so colourful and cheerful and it’ll bring back so many happy memories.’ Sam kissed her again. ‘We’ll have lots more happy memories of our time here, won’t we, darling? Come along… Let’s head back, shall we?’
She noted the gleam of anticipation and longing in his eyes and she nodded in agreement. They walked back to the hotel hand in hand.
Their lovemaking, now, was free and unrestrained. It was not the first time they had expressed their love for one another in that way. But Val had never been able to do so without a slight feeling of guilt at the thought of what her mother might think if she knew. Sam had always taken care that nothing should go wrong but there had always been that niggling fear at the back of her mind. Now their marriage and the vows they had made had given them the freedom that they needed to give themselves to each other in perfect love and understanding.
‘Goodnight, my darling,’ said Sam eventually. She knew that he had fallen asleep almost at once but Val lay awake, listening to the soft sounds of the night: the distant murmur of the sea and the faint cry of a seagull. It felt strange – but nice, though – to share her bed after all her years of solitude. The thought thrilled her, making her feel warm and safe and soon she, too, fell asleep.
They spent an idyllic few days in Scarborough, a time they would look back on in years to come, remembering the perfect start to their marriage. They were blessed with almost ideal weather, apart from the odd rain showers when they were least expecting them, but such were the vagaries of an English springtime.
They visited the fishing port of Whitby, some twenty miles away across a wild stretch of moorland. They climbed the steep hill to where the statue of Captain Cook and the whalebone arch overlooked the harbour. Then, fortified by a delicious meal of freshly caught haddock and chips, they climbed the hundreds of steps at the other side of the town up to the ruined abbey and the church and graveyard at the top of the hill.
Another day they journeyed across the Yorkshire Wolds to Flamborough Head, then on to the cathedral town of Beverley. In Scarborough, they enjoyed the pleasures of Peasholm Park and the elegant shops on Westborough. They watched the fishing boats unloading their catch in the harbour, heard the cries of the seagulls as they wheeled overhead and smelled the aroma of the salty air from the fish stalls along the quay where crabs and lobsters, cockles and mussels and potted shrimps were on sale.
‘We’ll maybe venture further afield later in the year,’ said Sam. ‘We were thinking of Paris in August, weren’t we, when the mill closes for a week?’
‘I’ve been more than contented here,’ replied Val happily. ‘Yes, it would be nice. I’ve never been abroad, you know. But we’ll wait and see how we feel, shall we?’
Val was eager to get back to their new home, to arrange their furniture, put up the curtains and fill the cupboards with their many and varied wedding gifts. They travelled back on the Thursday to give themselves a long weekend in which to settle down, before they both returned to work on Monday. Val was hoping she might not be working for very long, even though she loved her job. She was wondering if she might already have conceived a child. There had been plenty of opportunity for her to do so!
Sam carried her over the threshold of their new home, hugging and kissing her as he put her down in the short passageway. ‘So here we are – just you and me in our own little palace. I’ll go and unload the car then we’ll have a cuppa, shall we?’
‘Yes. I’ll go and put the kettle on,’ said Val. ‘First things first.’
They had made sure that one of the two electric kettles they had received as wedding gifts was installed and ready for use. They had bought some fresh milk on the way back and there was a tin containing tea in a kitchen cupboard.
Most of their belongings were still in packing cases in the middle of the dining-room floor. They looked at them in some perplexity as they drank their tea.
‘We’ll make a good start at it all tomorrow,’ said Sam. ‘There’s a heck of a lot to do… but we’re very fortunate, aren’t we, darling? Far luckier than a lot of folk.’
Val knew that Sam did not take his good fortune for granted. He was aware that he was far more ‘well off’ than many young people of his age, and this was mainly due to his father and his grandfather before him. He had had a job at the mill ready and waiting for him when he left school. His father, however, had insisted that he should start on the bottom rung of the ladder and have experience in all the departments of the mill before becoming one of the managers. Neither had he been excused national service. His time in the army had given him a greater insight into the lives of his contemporaries and he had made friends with lads from all walks of life.
Walker’s mill, right from the start, in Jacob’s time, had been a good place to work. The working conditions and the needs of the employees had always been of primary importance. Consideration had been given to sons and daughters seeking employment at the mill. Val’s parents had both been employed there, and this applied to several of the girls with whom she worked.
Val knew that Sam’s mother, Beatrice, had been a mill worker herself, not at Walker’s but in the office of another mill in a different part of the town. She had chosen to forget about her humble beginnings, though, when she had met and then married Joshua Walker. Her superior manner had influenced her eldest son, and the workers were quick to notice the difference in the attitude of the two brothers. Samuel was more ‘one of them’ but they respected him as their boss far more than they respected his brother.
‘Yes, we’re lucky in all sorts of ways,’ Val answered. ‘You’ve worked hard, though, Sam. It wasn’t all handed to you on a plate so don’t think that you don’t deserve it. One of the most important things is that your family have got used to me now.’ By ‘family’, Sam would know that she meant his mother and his brother. ‘And I’ve got over the feeling that it wasn’t quite right – you and me, I mean – getting friendly. As you said, I think we might have discovered one another eventually. It all seems so right, doesn’t it?’
‘It’ll be even more right when we’ve got this lot sorted out,’ said Sam, looking at the packing cases and tea chests that covered the floor and the boxes of wedding presents on the table. ‘Shall we treat ourselves to fish and chips tonight? I’ll go and get them – there’s a nice place not far away. We can start cooking our own meals tomorrow when we’ve sorted out the pots and pans.’
Val thought that was an excellent idea. They had bought some fresh bread and a pack of butter on the way home, so they could at least have toast for breakfast. She buttered the bread, but as the plates were cold they ate the fish and chips from the paper just like the holidaymakers in Blackpool. They did no work that evening but were ready to start in earnest the next morning.
By Monday, when they returned to work, the house was more or less ship-shape although the garden was in need of tending. The house had been built in the thirties and, being pre-war, had several attractive features. There was a stained-glass window in the front door depicting a sunset, and coloured glass motifs in the upper window panes; a highly polished dark oak banister, spindles and a newel post, and deep skirting boards and cornices to all the rooms.
It had now been decorated, however, in a modern style in bright contemporary colours, and they had chosen bold designs of geometrical shapes for the curtains and cushions. Their furniture was from the latest G-Plan and Ercol ranges, and the kitchen was fitted with cupboards and a working top in pale blue Formica. The kitchen was rather small, in keeping with most semi-detached houses built around that era, but there was room for two tall stools so they could eat their breakfast there in the mornings. Val was thrilled to bits with her new home and couldn’t wait to start being a real housewife.
She had already cooked a few meals using their new pans and Pyrex dishes and utensils, and their modern Wedgwood dinner service which was a present from Jonathan and Thelma. It was pale blue and beige pottery and did not need to be handled with too much care, unlike the Crown Derby tea service of delicate china, in the Imari design of red, blue and gold, given to them by Sam’s grandparents. It had pride of place in the top drawer of the glass-fronted sideboard, and Val felt that she would never dare to use it.
‘You never know, the Queen might decide to come to tea one day,’ joked Sam.
‘Or your mother!’ added Val with a wry grin. ‘Joking apart, though, we’d better invite them to come to tea very soon, hadn’t we?’
‘Yes, perhaps we must. Next Sunday, maybe – just the two of them. We’ll have Jonathan and Thelma and little Rosemary another time. And Cissie will be waiting for an invitation, of course, with Walter and little Paul. You mustn’t forget Cissie. And your parents… Goodness me! We’re going to be busy, aren’t we?’
Val couldn’t wait to have what her mother called ‘company’ in their new home. She was looking forward to being the hostess, but above all she wanted to be a good wife to Sam. It was Sunday evening and they were to start work again the next day. Val would soon be a working wife as were some of her friends; it was becoming more usual, now, for married women to work outside of the home.
‘We could have a house-warming party,’ Sam suggested now. ‘We have so many friends, one way and another, both yours and mine. It might be a nice idea to have them all round together. What do you think, darling?’
‘You mean… invite everybody, all at the same time?’ queried Val. She was thinking that it might be an awkward mix: Sam’s parents, her parents, and what about grandparents and aunts and uncles? Would they be included? And friends… there were so many of them. ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘We’ve already had the wedding reception and everybody came to that. But they didn’t all mix together, did they? Not as well as we might have hoped. They were obliged to be at the wedding, though. This would be a much more informal occasion. I’m not sure, Sam, that it would be a good idea.’
Sam looked at her anxious face and realised that she might have got the wrong idea. He laughed. ‘When I said everybody I didn’t mean absolutely everyone. Not the older generation, parents and grandparents. Goodness me, no! I just meant our age group, our own friends.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Val. ‘Yes – that would be a lovely idea.’
‘Your parents and mine must be the first to be invited here, then Jonathan and Thelma, and Cissie and Walter… not together, of course! I was thinking we could have a get-together of our friends later in the year – late June or July, maybe. We could invite the girls from your office and their boyfriends – or husbands, and my pals, Jeff and Colin – they’ve both got girlfriends now. I can think of at least twenty already. The house should be just as we want it by then.’
‘And the garden,’ said Val, rapidly warming to the idea. ‘If it was a nice evening we could eat in the garden. Or have supper in the house then go into the garden to chat together afterwards.’
‘Not the way the garden is at the moment!’ Sam gave a painful grimace. ‘It does have potential but it’s been badly neglected. It’s like a wilderness out there – the grass has run riot and the bushes are overgrown. There are some decent rose bushes, though – those seem hardy enough… Yes, it’s a brilliant idea. We’ll have a garden party, well, a party in the garden, I mean – not a summer fete like they have at church! It’ll give me an incentive to get it sorted. I’m not much of a gardener but I’m sure I could find somebody to sort it all out for us. And to heck with the expense! We’ve done most of the work in the house ourselves, haven’t we? I’ll get cracking with the garden idea right away.’
Val was still thinking about the people they would invite. ‘There’s Janice as well,’ she said, ‘and Phil. It would probably be on a Saturday, wouldn’t it? She sometimes comes to Ilkley for the weekend… That reminds me, Phil was going to Blackpool this weekend and they were planning to get engaged. I wonder if it’s official now? I must find out before we send them a congratulations card…’