‘I rather wish that Janice and Phil could have been with us,’ said Val soon after the christening. ‘Although, we had decided to keep it small, hadn’t we? And if you invite friends you never know where to stop.’
‘They would understand, I’m sure,’ said Sam. ‘Perhaps we could go over to see them before long – you and me, Cissie and Walter and all the children. What do you think?’
‘It sounds like a great idea,’ said Val. ‘Although, we wouldn’t all fit into one car, would we?’
‘No, probably not. But Walter’s got a larger car now, hasn’t he?’
The car that had been in the accident had been a write-off and it had been replaced with a slightly larger Hillman car, by no means new but a good bargain. Cissie had given up all thoughts of driving, at least for the moment.
‘I don’t know about taking all the children to the cafe, though,’ said Val. ‘I wonder if Sunday might be best? The cafe’s closed on a Sunday. We could take a picnic lunch so Janice and Phil don’t need to worry about the food. I’m sure they’d be glad of the rest.’
‘Brilliant idea,’ said Sam. ‘Let’s see what the others all think about it.’
They all agreed that it was a terrific idea and they decided on a Sunday in mid-July. You could never rely on the weather, of course; it had been the usual summer mix of sunshine and showers. The week leading up to the proposed day, however, was settled and the Sunday dawned fair and bright with a promise of sunshine.
Paul, now three years old, was very excited and his sister, Holly, now a year and a half, was walking, starting to talk and taking an interest in all that was going on. Russell, at ten months, was now managing to sit up without toppling over and was a source of delight and amusement to the other two children.
Val and Cissie had both prepared picnic baskets, with bags of assorted sandwiches; sausage rolls, pork pies; packets of crisps, Penguins and Kit-Kats, plus flasks of coffee, bottles of orange juice and Russell’s bottles and jars of baby food.
They dispensed with pushchairs and carry-cots, as Phil had suggested they should drive close to a convenient picnic spot and walk just a short distance, taking turns, if needs be, to carry Russell and Holly.
They set off in the two cars at half past nine, the journey taking less than an hour, and were warmly greeted by Janice and Phil. Janice looked radiant and happy in her seventh month of pregnancy.
‘I can’t believe how well I’ve been feeling after the first few weeks,’ she told them. ‘When I go for my check-ups they say that all’s well… touch wood. I know I look like an elephant, though!’
‘You don’t at all,’ Cissie assured her. ‘You look bloomin’ marvellous! Anyway, what does it matter? It’ll all be worth it in the end.’
Val could not comment. It had gone wrong for her but she now had her lovely baby boy and she had no regrets. Janice was pleased to meet Russell, holding him on her knee and making a fuss of him.
‘He’s good, isn’t he, and so friendly? He doesn’t know me but we’re getting on fine, aren’t we, little chap?’ said Janice, giving him a cuddle.
‘He’s been used to different people looking after him,’ said Val. ‘He settled down straight away with Sam and me. But I’m sure he’ll have his moments as he gets older, as they all do.’
After a cup of tea – always a good start to an outing – they set off in two cars. Instead of using their own car Janice and Phil sat in the back seat of Sam and Val’s as they had more room. Phil had suggested they should go to Fountain’s Abbey, a local beauty spot. He directed Sam northwards out of Harrogate, with Walter following close behind.
The grounds of the ruined Cistercian abbey were a perfect place for a picnic. They parked their cars in the car park then set off with bags, baskets and rugs to find an ideal spot. Sam carried Russell and Holly toddled along holding Cissie’s hand. Paul seemed tireless, running ahead excitedly then stopping to watch the ducks and geese swimming in the stream that ran through the grounds or waddling on the path hoping for titbits of food.
‘Gosh! It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?’ said Cissie. ‘I’ve lived in Yorkshire all me life and I’ve never been here. ’Course, we never had a car. Folks like us didn’t have cars when I was a kid, only rich folk, so we didn’t get around very much.’
‘I came here once when I was little,’ said Walter. ‘I’ve cycled past it lots of times but never stopped. There are some jolly fine views. Has anyone got a camera?’
‘I have,’ said Sam. ‘My parents bought me a new one for Christmas instead of the old box one I had. Nothing too technical, just an instamatic one – it takes colour snaps as well as black and white. You can have them printed as photos or as slides – to show on a screen with a projector. Val and I are thinking of getting some equipment, then we can show pictures to everyone, especially now we’ve got Russell.’
‘Gosh! It’ll be just like the Odeon,’ said Cissie.
Sam laughed. ‘Perhaps not quite as good but we’ll have a film show when we’ve got the projector. In the meantime, I hope we’ll get some good snapshots.’
‘I think we’ve walked far enough,’ said Val. ‘This bag’s getting heavy and I’m sure Russell weighs a ton, doesn’t he, Sam?’
‘He sure feels like it!’ agreed Sam.
‘And Holly’s getting tired, aren’t you, love?’ said Cissie. The little girl just realised she was and held out her arms to be picked up.
They managed to find a secluded spot – although there were many visitors there that day with the same idea – on a stretch of grass away from the pathway, with leafy sycamore and beech trees to give shade from the sun, which was now at its midday height.
They spread out the travelling rugs and started to unpack the lunch. Janice was glad to sit down. She had brought a small cushion which she placed to her back as she leaned against a tree trunk.
‘And this little lad will need his nappy changing,’ said Val. ‘No… on second thoughts I’ll wait till he’s had his bottle and some food. It’s amazing what paraphernalia you need when you go out for the day. Still, it’s all worth it. It’s lovely to be all together like this.’
They all tucked in hungrily to the assortment of ‘eats’ and enjoyed the coffee and orange juice drunk from plastic beakers. They used large paper serviettes instead of plates then deposited the debris in a nearby litter bin. The beakers and plastic containers were stored away in the bags, ten times lighter now, to take home. Baby Russell had his nappy changed and the soiled one stowed away at the bottom of the holdall. His eyes were drooping as he was ready for his afternoon nap.
‘Stay awake, little chap, while Daddy takes some photos,’ said Sam.
He took several of the grown-ups, the children and a group photo to include everyone… except himself. Walter insisted that he should take one so that Sam could be included. Then a helpful man from a family who had been picnicking nearby offered his services. The nine of them crowded together – a tight squeeze – then they all smiled and obediently said ‘cheese’.
‘That will be a lasting memory of a very happy day,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll send you all the photos as soon as they’re developed.’
‘Russell’s ready for his sleep,’ said Val. He was already asleep in her arms.
She put him down in the shade of a tree on one of the rugs with a towel beneath his head then covered him with the cardigan she had taken off. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky; they had certainly been blessed with the weather.
‘How about a walk?’ suggested Phil. ‘I’m sure we need one after that splendid lunch. Who’s up for it?’
Val had to stay behind with Russell and insisted she’d be OK on her own, but Cissie and Janice opted to stay with her. Janice admitted she was feeling tired and Cissie was happy for Walter to take a turn at looking after the children. Holly was wide awake, although she might have been ready for a nap at home.
‘Studley Park adjoins the abbey grounds,’ said Phil. ‘There’s a herd of deer that graze there. Let’s go and take a look at them, shall we? It’ll be fun for the children… and for us, of course!’
The three young men set off with Holly toddling along holding Walter’s hand while Paul whooped excitedly, just with the joy of being out of doors on such a lovely day.
‘Peace, perfect peace,’ said Cissie. She reached for her shoulder bag and took out a packet of cigarettes. She did not offer them round as she was the only one who indulged. She lit up and took a deep drag then sighed contentedly, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.
‘It’s lovely to have some time to meself, although I wouldn’t be without ’em, not for all the tea in China. This is a smashing place, isn’t it? What a view, eh? And I never knew it was there.’
The majestic ruins of the abbey, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, the background of the trees in full bloom and the silver stream rippling gently through the grounds did, indeed, make a most idyllic scene.
‘The abbey was owned by the Cistercian monks,’ said Val, ‘and then it was ransacked by Henry the Eighth at the time of the Reformation. But the ruins are well preserved – more so than any in the country, so they say.’
Cissie laughed. ‘Never mind yer history lesson and yer bloomin’ Henry the Eighth! Mind you, I’ve heard about him. He had all them wives and had their heads chopped off… Like I said, though, it’s a smashing view. I’m real glad we came.’
‘So am I,’ agreed Janice. ‘Phil and I haven’t been out much recently. We’re glad of a rest on a Sunday, although we sometimes go to Ilkley to see his parents.’
‘You’ll have your hands full soon,’ said Val. ‘It’s amazing the difference a baby makes.’
‘Even more so with two of ’em,’ said Cissie with feeling.
‘You agree with Walter now, do you?’ asked Val. ‘You’re going to stop at two?’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Your Russell made me remember how lovely they are when they’re little, they’re so dependent on you. And Janice’s baby’ll be here soon… Still, I must be thankful for what I’ve got.’
She took another drag of her cigarette, inhaling deeply. ‘Walter and me are OK again now and that’s the main thing. It made me realise how much I loved him when I thought I might lose him.’
‘And he felt the same about you,’ said Val. ‘I suppose every marriage has its ups and downs. Anyway, it’s too nice a day to be philosophical… Have you thought of any names for your baby, Janice? I won’t say do you want a boy or a girl. Silly question, isn’t it? As if we have any choice in the matter!’
‘I’ve heard it’s the male who determines the sex of the child,’ said Janice. ‘Something to do with X or Y chromosomes.’
‘Flippin heck!’ Cissie burst out laughing. ‘It’s like being back at school with you two. First a history lesson, now we’re being blinded with science. Walter and me had a long list of names, both times, then we changed our minds at the last minute.’
‘We really haven’t thought much about it,’ said Janice. ‘It’s tricky if you want to choose one of your parents’ names, and it has to go well with your surname…’
The girls chatted idly about this and that until their husbands and children reappeared. Walter was carrying Holly, and Paul was running ahead as usual.
‘We saw some big deers with trees on their heads!’ he shouted.
Walter laughed. ‘I told him they’re called antlers – sort of horns, like sheep and cattle have – just the male ones, and they use them for fighting.’
‘Would you believe it?’ said Cissie. ‘We’re having a nature lesson now!’ The girls all laughed but it was too complicated to explain why.
‘So you’ve had a lovely time, have you?’ asked Cissie as the children threw themselves down on the rug.
Paul nodded and Holly put her thumb in her mouth, a sign that she was tired.
‘Home time soon, I think,’ said Sam. ‘Are we agreed?’
Janice suggested they should have a cup of tea at their home before they went back, but they all politely declined. It might delay them too long and the children could become fractious. They gathered together all their belongings and walked back to the car park. They all had an ice cream from the kiosk near the gate, then, with sticky hands and mouths all wiped, they set off back.
They stopped only briefly at Janice and Phil’s home, saying goodbye in a flurry of hugs and kisses and waves.
‘We’ll be dying to hear your news,’ said Cissie. ‘Only two months now!’
‘Let us know right away,’ said Val, and Phil promised that they would know as soon as anyone.
All went well and Janice gave birth to a baby girl in the local hospital in the early hours of 25 September. When Phil saw her soon afterwards she was sitting up in bed looking proud and happy, with the baby asleep in a cot at the foot of the bed. Phil kissed her lovingly before taking a peek at the baby.
‘She’s beautiful, just like you,’ he said, although there was little to see except a fair-complexioned face and the merest covering of fluffy down on her head.
‘So she is. She hasn’t much hair, though,’ said Janice.
‘It’s all the time in the world to grow,’ said Phil. ‘And she’ll be fair, like you.’
‘She’s seven and a half pounds,’ said Janice proudly. ‘That’s a good weight. And I shall try to feed her myself. That’s what they like you to do.’
‘I’ve put a notice up in the cafe,’ Phil told her, ‘saying that we have a little girl. And Toby and the girls send their love.’
Toby was taking charge in Phil’s absence and he assured her that all was going well at Grundy’s.
As the baby was born on a Friday there were plenty of visitors at the weekend. Phil’s parents came on the Saturday and Alec, Norma and Ian drove over on the Sunday. Alec was thrilled with his first grandchild and Ian seemed astounded at seeing such a tiny baby, the first one he had seen at such a tender age.
‘And you are her one and only uncle,’ Phil told him.
Ian tentatively touched her cheek. ‘What are you going to call her?’ he asked.
‘We haven’t quite made up our minds yet,’ said Janice. ‘Although, we have decided on one thing. You are going to be her godfather. Would you like that?’
‘Gosh! That’s great,’ said Ian. He seemed too amazed to say anything more.
Janice said Phil had decided that if they had a girl – or even if it was a boy they could break with tradition – they would ask Val and Cissie to be godmothers. The three young women had become close friends over the years, and although Janice still kept in touch with her old school friends she seldom saw them.
And they had both agreed about asking Ian to be the godfather. It would make him feel even more like one of the family and he was the only sibling they had between the two of them.
‘I know he’s young,’ said Janice, ‘but he’s sixteen and he’s becoming more mature. And now, what about a name for our little one? She must be registered long before she’s christened.’
Eventually they decided on Sarah Lilian; Sarah because they both liked the name and it seemed to go well with their surname; and Lilian, of course, for Janice’s beloved mum. Alec and Ian were delighted at the choice and Norma agreed that it was very fitting.
‘I’ll never take her place, nor would I want to,’ Norma told Janice. ‘I just hope I can be a good wife to your dad and make him happy.’
‘There’s no doubt that you do that,’ Janice assured her.
The christening took place on a Sunday afternoon at the end of November at the local church, where Janice and Phil occasionally attended. They had decided they wanted a simple occasion with just close relatives and friends. Val and Cissie had both been surprised and thrilled to be asked to be godmothers. Their husbands, of course, were invited to the baptism service but the children were left at home in the care of grandparents. The parents agreed that this should be a day just for baby Sarah.
With both lots of grandparents – Norma was touched to be referred to as Nana – the godmothers, their husbands and Ian, there were eleven present at the private baptism. Twelve including Sarah Lilian, the most important one of all.
Val carried her into the church in a hand-knitted shawl made by Phil’s mother and Cissie carried her at the end of the service. Back at Grundy’s they tucked into an afternoon tea which included many of Janice’s specialities from the cafe. She was now working part-time, fitting in with Sarah’s routine.
Sam took lots of photos, to be the subject of a film show at a later date. It was a happy occasion, ending with a toast to the baby and a slice of the christening cake, made by Janice.
Baby Sarah had stayed awake most of the time, but when Janice went to put her down for her sleep, Val crept into the bedroom to join her.
‘She’s gorgeous,’ said Val, holding the child’s tiny hand and feeling the tiny fingers close around her own. ‘You must be very proud of her… I have a secret,’ she whispered, smiling confidingly at Janice. ‘Well, just one or two people know. It’s early days…’
Janice looked at her friend’s face. Val was smiling joyously but with just a tinge of anxiety.
Janice gasped. ‘You mean…? Are you…?’
‘Yes, I’m pregnant again. Would you believe it? But I’ve heard it quite often happens when you’ve adopted a baby. Motherly feelings and all that. So it’s fingers crossed, everything crossed. We just hope and pray that all will be well this time.’
‘Oh, so do I!’ said Janice fervently. ‘When will it be?’
‘The end of May, we think, we hope…’
Janice put her arms around Val and kissed her cheek. ‘I’m delighted for you. What a perfect ending to a lovely day.’
Notice in the Halifax evening paper during the first week of June, 1960.
Valerie and Samuel Walker are pleased to announce the safe arrival of their daughter, Lucy Elizabeth, on 1 June. A welcome sister for Russell James. Mother and baby are both doing well. Our sincere thanks to the midwife and doctor.