And Miss Carter Wore Pink [antikvár]

1WAS BORN IN THE YEAR 19OO IN THE VILLAGE OF LEES, SITUATED BETWEEN OLDHAM and the nearby Yorkshire villages of Greenfield, Uppermill and Dobcross. Even then the village had lost the few farms it once had. The cotton mills had spread out from Oldham, and rows of little back-to-back houses for working people filled the once open spaces. Both my Grandfathers had owned businesses and even before I was born had built some of these houses which they let to good and trusted workers. My Father's Father bought a farm at South Shore, Blackpool, and built a nice house with plenty of room, because, he said, he wanted somewhere for his grandchildren to come for holidays; many were the happy holidays we spent there. We lived in Lees in a tall Victorian house on the High Street. It had long narrow passages and steep stairs, and a large, warm kitchen with a good black coal range with two ovens: one we called the Bread Oven, and in the smaller one were cooked pies, puddings, etc. All our bread, cakes and biscuits were made at home by Mother or Sarah, who came to help when my brother George was a baby. As we grew older Annie Simpson came to help with the housework. On Tuesdays she "did" the bedrooms, singing lustily as she swept. She belonged to the Salvation Army in Oldham and always began with "Onward Christian Soldiers Going as to War", and when she saw George and me she would say, "Come along, children, join in," and away she would go again through all the verses, cheerfully banging about with her brushes and mops. Then we would sing "There is a Happy Land", and lots more lively hymns. We always knew when she was getting to the end of her work because she invariably finished off with "The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, is Ended". By the time she had done, it was afternoon, and on a dark winter's day "Darkness was falling" and it seemed, indeed, like the end of the day. Alas, it was a sad day for us when poor Annie Simpson died. One afternoon when Mother paid her, she said in her cheerful voice, "Well, Missus, I guess I shan't be coming next week, but I'll see you in a fortnight." The following Tuesday afternoon Annie Simpson and her baby son were laid to rest in Leesfield Cemetery. After Annie we had to put up with Mrs Murgatroyd. She had just lost her husband, and everyone who could afford to gave her employment. But she was not happy like Annie Simpson —and she brought Willie and Annie with her. George and I had lessons at home, so when Willie and Annie came they joined us. I never learnt anything on the dreadful mornings when they came because Willie Murgatroyd used to chew the blotting paper and push it in the inkwell or down my neck. It was so nice to see them go home and to have our dinner in peace. Afterwards we'd get ready to call for Grandma and go on our afternoon walk. Grandma's house was only on the other side of the High Street and as in those days there were only horses plodding slowly by with their lorry-loads of bales of cotton we could run across to see her without much fear of accident. Grandfather, our Mother's Father, had died, and with Grandma lived Aunt Mary (the eldest Aunt), Aunt Frances and pretty Aunt Charlotte. Their house was an old stone one, with a long low room at the top known as the Loom House. Two large looms were always in use there. Maggie Knott, who was very old, came to weave the cotton or linen sheets on one. Aunt Mary had the other loom, and in her spare time wove yards of woollen cloth for winter coats, or fine pieces for frocks, just as Mother or the Aunts required them. Our afternoon walk was always the same. First, we called for Grandma and the Aunts. Farther along the High Street lived Miss Carter (who wore Pink). She was always ready and waiting. Next door lived Mrs Maitland and Emily, but we did not call for them because Mrs Maitland was never sure how she would be feeling and she might have to lie down for a little while if her head wasn't too good. George and I didn't like having her come with us, because, as Grandma said, she had been cast