Blanche and Helen - 6 the Meeting (continued) and Compstall Festival

Mr. Warrington said, "My question for the rest of you is, are you now willing to put your name in writing to the company, and pledge £50 on account for us to have as working capital for our adventure?”

There was a buzz around the room, and various friends conferred.

“I will pledge my money,” said Helen.

“I'm in too,” said Mr. Higgenbottom.

“I'll put £50 in as an investment,” said Mr. Cochrane, which really surprised me as he had commented earlier on how badly the mills were doing.

“And I will too,” said Mr. Taylor.

“As I said before,” said Mr. Wainwright, “I am not investing in your company. But from what I have heard so far tonight, I think it sounds like a very good investment.”

“Well, I know my friends, Messieurs Almond, Woodhouse and Simcock intend to put their £50 towards the company, so I think that makes it official. If you care to join us at a later date, Mr. Salt, you will be welcome. And so I think that more or less calls to an end our meeting for tonight. I have made a draft agreement, which those of you who are coming on board the company should sign before you leave, and if you could find the £50 for me in cheque or cash by next week, I would be most grateful. I will get on to Lord Howard’s man of business, Mr. Andrew, straight away, and tell him that we are interested in purchasing 11 properties in this area, and possibly another two, depending on your decision, Mr. Salt. Thank you all for coming tonight, and I will be in touch with you when I hear back from Lord Howard.”

And so they all left. I was disappointed that Fred had not managed to influence Helen in regards to the purchase. I was sure that he was arguing with her against it during tea time, but she was determined to get her own way. I think her heart was ruling her head.

Lots of people have asked me why Fred, who is such a pleasant and personable young man, now aged 30, should not have already married.  He told me that the right girl had never come along, and he gets along so well with Margaret and John. And having me just down the road is very nice. I think if I married, he might do so, as his responsibility for me would then be over. But I have no real options at the moment. Soon there will be the Festival in Compstall and I have been told I can have the afternoon off. I will put on my prettiest dress, and see if I can’t find someone who shows an interest in me.

Fred wouldn’t happily leave the area. He loves his new job as stone mason.

I said it sounded boring just breaking up big old rocks all day. He replied, “I’ll have you know I am a skilled craftsman and even if I spend most of the days fashioning nothing more exciting than building stones, I could one day use my talents to create a sculpture. How would you like that?”

“And what would you make, if you had the chance?” I asked.

“A monument to something important - like to those who died in the Boar War. I understand that Lord Howard did his service in that war. Not many aristocrats would risk their lives as he did.”

“Perhaps you can do a statue for his new Cathedral in Norwich. Why don’t you ask him?” I said jokingly.

“Perhaps I will,” he teased me back

 August 5

Mrs. Warrington, her mother, Mrs. Hayes,  the dragon and Alice, the meek maid all got off this morning for their visit to Prestwich. I think this will be like a holiday for me too, but I must be careful not to let Mr. Warrington think that I have an interest in him, personally.

Mr. Warringon wrote again to Mr. Andrew, Lord Howard’s representative, specifying which houses the newly formed company wished to buy - and he wrote back encouragingly, saying that he would hire a solicitor to visit the properties, and then make a proposal as to what they would be asking for them. He told us that there is a group of 17 houses which were sold recently in Marple, and they fetched less than £100 each. Ours are more substantial than that, but of course, being such a distance from the town doesn’t always please people. That is why he says our best bet is to buy the houses but keep the current tenants in place, with a somewhat increased rent most likely. 

There is a festival taking place in Compstall next weekend. They always have activities to tie in with their Wakes Week - and the holidays of all the employees. There is a group of friends that I knew from my school days that I will be meeting up with, but as I mentioned before, I will keep my eyes open for a potential suiter, too. These opportunities come so seldom that one must make the most of them.

When I gave him his lunch after church, Mr. Warrington said that he had heard that Helen would be going to the festival too, and his eyes were alight with unsuppressed lust. He won’t be going over to see his wife in Prestwick that weekend, then. The old devil. While the cat’s away, and all that.

Saturday 10th August

Fred told me when I saw him last weekend, that he has offered to take Helen and Rosie and one of her friends to the Festival. That should put a spanner in the works for Mr. Warrington. But I’m not sure that I really want Fred to keep up his interest in her, when she so clearly doesn’t care the same way about him. He offered that they would meet me at the turnoff about 10.30.

Luckily it was a lovely warm day, so I put on my best dress of white lawn, and put a blue sash around the waist. I wore my straw hat with the blue ribbons. 

We always walk across the back lanes to get to Compstall - as those who work in the mills do each day - which cuts the distance in half to what it would be if we went by the roads. It meant that I walked  up the road a piece, and then when they came we turned down the road I used to live on when we were still at Cow Hey before Da retired.

“Tell us about when you lived in Lower Ernocroft Farmhouse,” Fred asked Helen. “I often walk by it when I’m on my way to my work at Mill Brow - and it looks such a large property.”

“There were only the two of us there, and it is a huge house - five bedrooms. It was built in 1662 you know, which makes it interesting, but it was so cold there. Draughty and damp. But it's built of mellow stone, and the roof coverings are stone flagged. There are oak beamed ceilings throughout the ground floors, and stone mullioned windows. One of the sweet things that I would have liked to take when I left was a small cupboard - with the date of 1662 carved into the wooden frame.”

“Did Benjamin live there on his own before you were married? He wasn’t married before was he? I know he was quite a lot older than you.”

“He lived with his parents first, then when his father died, just with his mother. Then when she died, he had a housekeeper. But it wasn’t too long after that when we got married and I moved in, and the housekeeper left. I hardly thought there was need for her there when I didn’t have anything to do but cook and clean for him. We shut off most of the one wing - and lived in the big kitchen which had a lovely fireplace - and in one sitting room and our bedroom. Another couple lived there too - but not in the same house but the adjoining property. They were Joseph Wood, and his wife Ann, both in their sixties, and they had three grown up children. The boys helped on the farm and the girl worked at the mill. After Benjamin died and our house was sold, they moved too - this time to Ludworth House, and instead of being a farmer’s helper as he was to Benjamin - he now is a below ground coal hewer. Quite a change of fortunes for them.

By this time we had reached the middle of Compstall, and the brass band was marching up and down the main road, which had been closed to traffic for the day. All along the green, and up the grass towards the river, people had set up stalls. There were coconut shies, and throwing darts games. Helen told Rosie and Mary that they could go off on their own, and gave them each a shilling to spend. They were to meet us again by the main road at 12.30 when we would find a convenient spot and have our picnic lunch. I decided that I would go off to find my old school friends.

What a sight. We didn’t know where to go first. There were hobby horses, swings, shooting galleries. We were advised that there would be fights every hour on the hour, and if we wished to place our bets, we were encouraged to do so. There were displays of huge vegetables, sampling of homemade jams and marmalade, honeys of various sorts - all for sale or in competition for a prize. Apparently this evening there will be fireworks, and tomorrow, a chance to do clay pigeon shooting.

I found three of my classmates, Florence, Harry and Thomas. Florence was hand in hand with Harry, and after I joined, Thomas took my hand too. Before long, we had lost the other couple, who probably knew of places to go for private canoodling. Although I wasn’t over taken with Thomas, he was very charming to me, and paid me the nicest compliments. He suggested that we might go off on our own, away from the area, find a place for a private picnic, to get to know each other a bit better. I saw Helen in the Pleasure Gardens, (apparently Fred had gone off to buy them some tea) so I went over and told her they shouldn’t wait for me for their picnic lunch, as I would be having a snack with Thomas. Helen had just been chatting with Mr. Wainwright, the local author who had come to the meeting. As we passed him, he smiled at me, and asked if I could be free to help serve at his house for a party he was having on Sunday August 19th. He said, “I am hosting the annual meeting of my ornithology group and speaking on the nightingale. I don’t know if you have any special interest in birds, it is my passion - but also I should love for you to see my house. I had it built myself and as you will see it reflects both my creative writing skill and my interest in our feathered friends  I have also invited Mr. Warrington as he is as a bit of a loose end these days with his wife and mother-in-law away.  So can you come to help?”

 I said I was sure it would be fine.

“He looks a big wig,” said Thomas with disdain.

“I met him at Mr. Warrington’s meeting about buying our houses, a few weeks ago,” I told him. “He’s called Mr. Joel Wainwright and he used to be a Member of Parliament so I guess you could say he is a big wig. I heard him say at the meeting that the really famous Winston Churchill, who won the Liberal Seat for Manchester North West, after having crossed the floor some years ago, is coming here to Marple for a visit.”

“I’m afraid the name means nothing to me. Why should I care about him?”

“He was a war correspondent in the Boar War. He was captured, held as prisoner, escaped and took part in the relief of Ladysmith. In 1897 he saw action with the Malakand field force, which he later published in a book. He was with the Nile expeditionary force when he fought hand to hand against the Dervishes.

“In 1899 he resigned his commission in the army and returned to England a military hero and with the large amount of money he had earned by his writing (he had not inherited any money) he then decided to try to get elected to Parliament.”

“And how and why do you know all of this? You are too pretty to bother your head with those sorts of things,” and he undid the ribbon on my bonnet, and started running, so I chased after him, running, but not really caring too much. It was too lovely a day, and we were having such a good time.

 “Isn’t that your employer over there?” asked Thomas, as he finally let me catch him, and gave me back my bonnet, first personally tying it under my chin and sneaking a kiss at the same time.

Mr. Warrington saw us and then he ran into Mr. Wainwright and they went off  together. 

Thomas bought some pies and cakes, and bottles of ale, and we took our picnic down by the banks of the Etherow River. Such a lovely part of the world. We are so lucky to live near so much natural beauty. I did so enjoy the afternoon and lost track of time, and Thomas seemed to like me a lot too.

After another quick walk through the fairgrounds, Thomas started walking me back to Mr. Warrington’s house where I needed to get busy organising an evening meal for my employer. But when the bells rang out that it was 7 p.m. realised that I was very late and, I kissed him goodbye and ran the last half mile.