Jo and Katy were enjoying their return home, as they still considered it. Snow had arrived with a vengeance and although causing immense problems for commerce, it only added to the fun for the girls. Travelling was difficult, but they were able to visit the local cinema to see ‘Carry on Again Doctor’ as well as calling on old school friends. They were also able to get on to the edge of the local golf course and hone their tobogganing and snowballing skills.
The snow did not hinder Sue as she began her oral family history. Her mother, initially with reluctance, but later with growing interest, informed Sue of her maternal ancestral background. On the face of it this did not appear to offer the promise of high intrigue or adventure, at least at this early stage, as she learned that all of her immediate relatives including her grandparents, had been born in Birmingham. In addition, no family member had moved more than a few miles from their birthplace during their lifetimes and their occupations had been essentially of the manual kind. Sue’s mother had been a Boughton and her maternal grandmother, Florence, had been a Daniel. Sue’s mother had her own parents’ marriage certificate, which, after perhaps a moment’s hesitation, she let Sue have. She also, after a long search, found a box of memorabilia on top of a wardrobe.
As Mrs Turner reminisced her excitement grew and she enthusiastically plucked dog-eared, fading, photographs from the box with appropriate exclamations such as, “Oh! It’s Dot Walker, we used to go to Sunday school together. She was a laugh. Up to all sorts,” or some similar comment. In spite of Sue’s keenness to press on with strictly family matters, she indulged her mother, as it seemed to her a small price to pay in view of the evident pleasure she was deriving. It was a long time since she had last seen her so animated.
“It says here that Granny and Granddad Boughton were married in 1902 and that both of their fathers were named Thomas. Do you know anything about them?” asked Sue.
“No, I never knew my grandparents on the Boughton side. They both died before I was born.”
“No family gossip?” persisted her daughter.
Her mother gazed in front of her, clearly searching her memory. “Well, I seem to recall that my dad was one of about five children, which wasn’t a big family then. They went in for big families in those days you know.”
“What about your mother’s father, the other Thomas?”
“No, he died early as well.”
Sue sighed and carried on looking through some of the other papers spread around her mother’s chair.
“Now your great grandmother, Granny Boughton’s mother, I think that I met her,” announced her mother, as if awaking from a dream. Sue was all ears and asked her what she could remember about this lady. Her mother replied that she only had a very vague memory of an old lady living at the home of one of her uncles.
“I went to visit them with my mother once, a grocer’s shop in Sparkbrook, yes, that’s right. She did seem very old sitting there outside the shop, but I suppose that I was very small, so they all seemed old to me.” Mrs Turner relaxed into the back of her chair as though exhausted from some great effort. Despite her inclination to push forward, Sue realised that this was proving to be something of a trial for her mother and it would be unfair to probe deeper at present. She thanked her and said what a great help she had been and, whilst her mother rested, Sue picked through the ‘treasure chest’ and put aside some items of particular interest.
Sue’s other planned interview was with her father’s elder brother, Uncle Stan, the following day. This was a case of déjà vu as Sue left her childhood home and walked the half mile along the snow covered pavements to the No.44 bus terminus. Goodness knows how long it had been since she last made the journey. Fifteen? No, sixteen years. Before her marriage this had been her regular route to work, for five years, catching the bus from Lincoln Road North, through Acock’s Green to the Serck factory in Greet. This morning she was travelling further towards the city to the Mermaid pub. She was pleased to find that her mother’s directions were uncomplicated and soon she was being welcomed by her Uncle Stan. Another memory test. This time she reckoned that it had been at least twenty years. Her uncle, though his hair was much greyer, was still tall and upright as he led her into his tiny sitting room, the remnants of cigarette smoke catching her throat. Seeing her expression, he explained that since her Auntie Marion had died, he didn’t need so much room and so he’d done a house swap with a young married couple. The phrase ‘in need of a woman’s touch’ sprang to mind as she surveyed the tell-tale signs of this deficiency.
“Sit yourself down over there by the fire and get thawed,” he said, indicating an arm chair, “brrr, I reckon it’s almost as bad as sixty three. I’ve sorted out as much as I could for you to have a look at.” There was a shoe box near the opposite chair and as he sat down, he announced, “First thing is this.” He passed over a fading sepia photograph. Sue saw that it was a family group comprising two adults seated on chairs. The lady had a baby on her lap. Three other children were present, two in front of the adults, and an older lad, in a huge white collar, standing between.
“I reckon that it was taken about 1904.” Sue looked towards her uncle with expectant interest and he continued, “That’s your Granny and Granddad Turner, with their first four surviving children. Maud is the one on Mum’s lap.” Her uncle paused to light a cigarette.
“Now, although our dad was born in Birmingham, your granny, whose maiden name was Loomes, came from London. She was born in Paddington and they married in Southwark. Our Jim, Clara and I were born in various places around London. Maud and your own dad were born here in Birmingham.
“That’s so interesting.”
“Oh yes, we were forever moving house and there were a few more excursions before we finally settled in Brum. Our Elsie was born in Sheffield and Edgar in Blackpool.” Listening to her uncle, Sue thought that this side of the family appeared to offer more interest than her maternal line. Uncle Stan took out a pencil and, squinting through his tobacco smoke, sketched out a rough family tree from memory, which he passed to Sue. He perched on the arm of her chair and she noticed his hand was trembling as he pointed to his sketch. “Our Jim was born about 1895 and as he was the eldest, I suppose Mum and Dad married around 1894, which means, I reckon, they would have been born, what, in the early 1870s?” Her uncle’s knees cracked as he returned to his seat.
“What were they like?”
“Well me and your father you know about. We worked together with Dad for a long time – various engineering firms. I suppose Maud had the brains in the family and she was very artistic, good at drawing and such. Took after Mum’s side of the family, she did. Mum was very artistic too.”
“Oh! That’s interesting. Jo, our eldest, is good at art. She’s hoping to go to Art College after school, assuming that she passes her ‘A’ levels. Do you know anything about your grandparents?” Sue’s optimism was rising.
“I only really remember Dad’s mum,” her uncle broke into a fit of coughing, but retained the remnants of his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “She was called Emma Perkins. The others were all dead, or near enough, when I was born.” As he talked, her uncle continued leafing through his box and, after a cursory glance, he laid the various items aside. “Ah! Yes. On Mum’s side, the Loomes – it was a big family I believe – Mum was the eldest girl and was named Caroline after her mother, but second names were becoming popular amongst ordinary folk just then and so she was Caroline Jane.”
Sue was busily noting down all her Uncle said in a hurried scribble. “So my great grandmothers were named Emma Perkins and Caroline something who married a Loomes. That’s so useful. Thank you so much, this is just the sort of thing I need in order to get copies of their birth certificates, unless you’ve got them that is?”
“No ’fraid not. Maybe your Auntie Clara had, but I don’t doubt that she’d have kept them well hidden.”
Sue’s uncle then offered her tea and she accepted, but insisted he stayed in his chair whilst she did the honours. Later, she bade him a grateful and fond farewell, promising to visit again once she’d progressed their family tree. She felt that she had achieved more than she could have hoped for from her visit. She was in high spirits when she returned through the slush to her parents.
*
Half-term over. Time to collect the family. The journey hadn’t been difficult as the road-gritters had finally got themselves organised after a week of traffic chaos. Dave parked outside the nineteen thirties semi; the headquarters of the Turner dynasty. After a brief chat with his father-in-law, he was treated to another tour around the house to approve the latest decorations.
“Is it your lot who’ve been causing a stir around here with this rumour of an atomic power station to be built at Stourport?” asked his father-in-law.
“No it’s the utility who have applied for planning permission, but you’re not on your own, they’ve also applied for one near Chepstow.”
“Well, I dunno where it will all end. There’s enough funny folk around here as it is without any little green men turning up.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much just yet. There’s a long way to go before any permission will be given, if ever.”
After tea, Dave and Sue left to make their next stop at ‘Uncle’ Barry’s, to collect Jo and Katy. It was only after promising to return soon, that the Harrisons were able to make good their escape. Even that did not prevent Katy’s sniffles for a mile or so. The chance of another trip to Birmingham would suit Sue as she could look forward to delving further into her family history. Working around the girls’ schooling would be the main obstacle.
Settling back as they made their way southwards down the Fosse Way, Sue gave Dave a summary of her chat with her mother and Uncle Stan. Naturally this had to be interwoven with equally enthusiastic reports from the girls on their perambulations during the week, including the dubious claim of fabricating the world’s biggest snowball. Difficult to verify was their father’s opinion now that the thaw had set in. Dave thought that Sue’s research seemed to have been successful as she told him that she had obtained information about her grandparents and some on her great, grandparents.
“Well, that’s good after just one trip,” he encouraged.
So, for the Harrison clan this had been a particularly agreeable week. In the case of both adults, jobs well done.