Kate looked at his downcast expression and her tone softened.
‘Of course I’m pleased,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I’ve got used to being back in Micklewell, is all. I’m going to miss everyone,’ she said, looking round at the family gathered in the kitchen.
Ronnie and Tilly were playing happily together on the floor sorting a box of old buttons and swopping them with each other. They laughed when Jimmy, the cat, jumped in amongst them and started padding them with his paws.
‘Tilly will miss Ronnie,’ Kate said.
‘But they will still be able to see one another from time to time,’ Albert said. ‘I get special rate fares on the railways now I’m working for them.’
‘Yes, and think what fun it will be for me to come down and see you.’ Dot smiled.
‘It’s a good opportunity for you both,’ Ada said, joining in the general encouragement.
The family’s support for Albert and Kate’s new venture did not stop there being a tearful farewell. There were hugs and handshakes and promises to write. Ada had packed them a lunch for the journey and Dot had made Ronnie his own little drawstring bag to put a few of his special toys in. They were waved off enthusiastically by neighbours and were soon on their way to Fareham. The manager in Basingstoke had told Albert of a lodging house where many of their railway workers lived.
‘It’s not much to write home about, apparently, but it’s a roof over our heads until we can find somewhere else,’ Albert explained.
They struggled from the station to Queen’s Road with Albert carrying their bags and Kate holding a sleeping Ronnie.
‘It’s not far now,’ Albert said. He stopped to put down the bags and rest his arms.
‘I shouldn’t have brought my mother’s bowl,’ Kate said. ‘It’s awkward to carry.’
‘We haven’t brought much that’s our own,’ Albert said. ‘I couldn’t deny you that. Your mum gave it us on our wedding day.’
Kate smiled at him. He was a good man, her Albert.
Mrs Morton, the lodging house owner, was a kindly soul. She’d made them feel very welcome. The old lady made a fuss of Ronnie and gave him some biscuits she’d baked. The two rooms at the top of the house were small and sparsely furnished but they were all they could afford until Albert got paid. There was a sitting room with a fireplace, two armchairs and a wooden table with two ladder-back chairs. The tiny bedroom had a double bed and a cot for Ronnie. Bed linen was provided in the cost of the rooms and they could use the communal kitchen downstairs.
‘Best time to cook is before all the workers get home,’ Mrs Morton said. ‘After five o’clock it gets busy down there.’
When Kate kissed Albert goodbye on his first morning, she didn’t know how she would spend the day, but with the little money they had saved, she needed to find the nearest shops where she could get some food to last a few days. Mrs Morton kindly offered to look after Ronnie for an hour while she got some essentials. She pointed Kate in the right direction and she found the grocers and the hardware store. She came back with bread, butter, cheese, porridge, potatoes, minced beef, tea and a tea towel.
‘Oh, I forgot the milk,’ Kate said on her return.
‘I can let you have some,’ Mrs Morton said.
Kate felt that she would get on well with Mrs Morton, she had all the qualities of a good country woman even though she lived in the town.
When Albert arrived home, he needed a good wash before eating his dinner. Railway plate-laying was dirty work. Kate was pleased with the cottage pie she’d made. It tasted good and they spent their first evening in 51, Queen’s Road telling each other of their first impressions of Fareham and its people.
Albert’s strong physique and attention to detail made him an efficient worker. He could work longer hours and lift heavier loads than most of the other plate-layers, making him a valued member of the team. The ganger often chose Albert to do the more difficult jobs. When other men failed to shift stubborn fixing bolts or heave a sleeper into place, he would call for Albert. But the ganger was not a soft-hearted man. He could be ruthless in dismissing men who didn’t pull their weight.
The first signs of Kate being unwell came after only four weeks of them arriving in Fareham. Kate had decided to take Ronnie down to the waterfront to look at the boats. She wrapped him up warmly, criss-crossing a scarf around his chest to protect him from the winds that often swept up the river and wound their way up and down the streets.
It was late October and, although the sun shone brightly, Kate couldn’t get warm. After just a short while of walking up and down the quay and throwing some bread to the swans, she began to shiver. The voices of the men, calling to each other on the boats, echoed in her head and Ronnie’s squeals of delight at seeing the fishing boats unload their catch made her ears ring and her head pound. She suddenly came over hot and felt the sweat pooling under her arms. Her mouth was dry and she felt the need to sit down. She leaned on a low wall and tried to breathe deeply but the air felt sharp in her lungs.
‘Ronnie, come here,’ she said. ‘We must go now.’
Kate reached out her hand and Ronnie took it but began pulling in the direction of the crates.
‘No, Ronnie, we have to go now, Mummy’s sick,’ Kate tried to explain to him.
They managed to walk back home but every step leached more strength from Kate’s body. Every so often Ronnie stopped and held his arms up to Kate. ‘Carry, Mamma, carry,’ he pleaded. But Kate did not have the energy.
Once inside the house, the two of them climbed the stairs. Kate lay down with her son on the bed and they both drifted off to sleep. Ronnie’s hands on her face were what woke her and she realized that she needed to get down to the kitchen and cook their dinner.
Mrs Morton was in the kitchen baking. She took one look at Kate and said, ‘You look dreadful, Kate. Get yourself back to bed and Ronnie here can help me with this cake mix. Are you good at stirring, Ronnie?’
