Beneath this dour town
Lies the dour earth
Generations of my ancestors
Rest there
But I have escaped
Your father said this to me as we travelled south
Towards the valley where we now live
But you will want to return as you always do the moment you pass through our gate
You will talk of your childhood days and how you met your wife at the dance hall near the railway station
A week later I will drive you back and you will hug the house at the end of your street
You will curse your escape and ask me to ignore any of your letters
We will sit in your front parlour and drink tea and you will tell me of the day that you travelled to London to see the coronation and how wet the day was
But you would not have missed it for the world
I do not suppose that you have decorated this parlour since 1953 I joke
It serves me well you reply
And Elsie did not like change
As I drive back I know that within a month a letter will arrive asking me to rescue you again
It is not the town I know all these damned foreigners what do they know or care about its history
Preston was a fine town when I was growing up and people respected each other
These days you die in your home and nobody would find you
You know I was visiting Elsie’s grave the other day and there were yobs getting drunk and worse
No respect for themselves
No respect for themselves
You ask us to rescue you and sell the house
Rescue me away from this dour town
Elsie will understand as she is in a better place now
I ignore your letters but do not destroy them and within weeks your daughter instructs me to collect you once more and bring you to our home in the valley
Somerset is such an agreeable country I say as we drive south
Things do not change
It is a county of poets
There are not many poets in Preston you say
No inspiration it is dead on its feet
I sometimes wish that while I was with you that my house would burn down and I would be stuck here with you and my daughter and your children
But what about your history?
My history died when Elsie died if I had not been so tired I would have taken the lot to the tip but it was beyond me
It was only because of her busybody sister that her clothes are no longer there
Give em to a charity shop she says let other folk make good of them
She bullied me and still does
I will be glad if I do not see the motorway services again
Where are all the English people gone?
I just do not understand them
I just wanted a cheese roll
My memories are behind my eyes you know they are safe nobody can touch them and when I go they will go with me
Rachel has her Preston memories so do Richard and Paul
Your children will have Somerset memories and good luck to them as I do not think your valley will be spoilt
He sleeps as he always does for the remainder of the journey and wakes up just before Porlock Hill
We stop at a café and have a cup of tea
Only a few miles to go
A comfort break you call it
Tea on the motorway is gnats piss always has been always will be
A man and his wife draw up in a red sports car
He takes his time parking
Just showing off showing folk he has money I bet that lass is only half his age
Not one of your neighbours I hope
No I have never seen him before
They would not last five minutes in Preston ponce’s like him and that car well enough said
We continue our journey and within the hour are in the valley
The children are waiting at the front gate and you are standing in the doorway
Your father lifts them both up and kisses their rosy cheeks
Hello dad back again do stay a bit longer this time Preston can do without you for a few weeks you know and I know that mum would understand
I wish my Elsie had lived long enough to see your kids they remind me so much of you
My wife smiles but does not reply
That evening we walk into the village I tell him about the areas literary connections but he does not really listen
He plays of version of Pooh Sticks with Adam and Paul in the village stream but the current is not that strong so no records are broken
You have a nice life here the pace is so slow
Preston used to have a slow pace of life not as slow as this but sedate everybody knew everybody else and the kids all dreamed of playing for North End
But it all changed
Weak leadership people on the take the whole place just rotted before your eyes
I sometimes wonder if Jerry had won would it have been different
Well places like this would not have existed you know
Rachel did not often disagree with her father but occasionally she did
Explain yourself girl
If the Germans had won then the Englishness of a place like this would not have existed as it does today
No I disagree the Germans and the English have many similarities you know
Name one
They were races born to rule look at our empire we ruled half the world before the cowards lost it for us
The country was bankrupted by the war you should know you fought in in it
I seriously thought about becoming a conchie you know but all my pals were going to war and I had to support them
But during my time out there I had serious doubts
Did you shoot any German’s granddad?
Cooks don’t shoot German’s maybe poison them with my food but I was never near enough to see them shooting at me
I met a number of POWs and decent chaps they were they just wanted to go home but the difference was that they did not have a home to go to whereas I did
8 Mackie Street would still be there when I returned
The conversation ended and my wife retired from the benches to play with our children who had found a lost football
Are you happy son?
Yes I think I am
I was happy with Elsie and Rachel and the others but I am not happy now
Why?
If I knew the answer I would work it out
That is the reason I am a nuisance to you
You are no nuisance
I am I can see it on my daughters face every time I arrive
She loves you coming down
But she does not understand me
You know the reason why I hug houses when I return?
No I thought it was just a jest
It goes back to the war when I was called up I was shitting myself I did not want to die and deep down I was sympathetic to Jerry
As soon I decided to go I just wanted to do my bit and come home to my Elsie and that is what happened I never fired a shot in anger
And one day I was back in Preston ordinary Preston and I so loved that moment that I hugged and kissed the first building I saw
My pals thought me mad a bit soft in the head but I knew better
Preston had not betrayed me
My Elsie was still there working in the tobacconists shop nothing had really changed and I thought that this world would go on forever
Things change you know Peter even this village
Fifty or so years ago most people living here would have been born in the village or nearby
The village is now full of outsiders like us things do change you know
But you have not destroyed anything things are not going to rack and ruin as they are in Preston
The house prices have pushed out the locals and there is a little resentment because of that
From what I see you are accepted
Well we have been here for twelve years and both the boys were born here I think I am accepted as a local but we also do harm with our financial independence
You came from money didn’t you?
To some extent yes
What do you really think of Preston do you think I should sell up and move down here?
I agree with you I think Preston is a dying town but I do not have anything to benchmark it against only Rachel’s memories
I was brought up in Sussex you know
Rachel told me
I do think that you should move down you are quite fit and there is so much to do around here
You know what bothers me the most about Somerset?
What?
The peace
The peace?
It is so quiet I cannot get used to that there is no din as there is in Preston
Even the sky is black
That is why we moved here somewhere nice for the children to grow up with lots of space but I assure you that if you want noise then we have the places for you such as Yeovil and Taunton
They are not Preston but have their moments
I really have a choice to fade slowly and die in our house and to be buried next to my Elsie or to take the bull by the horns and move down here
Rachel has done it without much regret
But she was younger Preston did not really get under her skin
She was born there and went to school there
And went to a university where she met you it was the best thing that ever happened to her
Thank you it was the best thing that ever happened to me
Let stop it now as we are acting like a couple of old queens
I agree
A week later his demons returned and on the Saturday following I was driving to Preston
However on this occasion we were delayed as there had been an accident on the motorway
It was late and I was invited to stay as the journey had been tiring
I stayed in Rachel’s old room which still contained memorabilia from her childhood
Dolls hid on the top on wardrobe and under the bed there was a poster of David Cassidy which I believe just fell from the wall
Her father told me to take them with me but I refused as I felt that my wife should still have connections with her childhood
There was a street light outside of her bedroom window and I remember her telling me stories of the moths that used to fly around it
There were no moths there when I stayed as the air was cold and a wind was brushing down the street
Occasionally a car roared past the house and braked hard as it turned on to the main road
Bloody kids if only the German’s had won the war
Rachel’s father stayed up watching television until the early hours
He did not require as much rest I thought as I drifted into sleep
Next day we went to the churchyard where Rachel’s mother was buried
It was a large Victorian churchyard much used and a good number of the gravestones showed dates from the Victorian era
Once is had been looked after but although some attention had been paid to its upkeep it was a mess with some of the older graves sinking into what Peter called the dour earth
What bothered me though was the recent decay
Bottles littered the area and a couple of the gravestones had been defaced
Rest in pieces Zombie Boys rule had been daubed on to the headstone of a certain Arthur Waite
I went to school with his son nice chap died on TB in the fifties you know
I thought that the churchyard would by now be closed as it had been accepting the dead for over one hundred and fifty years but is was still accepting the dead of the town
Julia Mayes (1934-2014)
Peter Percy Stokes (1921-2015)
Were just two of the names that sprung out at me as we approached Elsie’s grave
Her white marble headstone was beginning to reflect the dampness of the area but Peter had looked after the grave
They steal the flowers you know and bold as brass try to sell them on
The police are not interested they do not want to upset them
Peter removed the withered flowers from his late wife’s grave and replaced them with a bunch we had brought up from Somerset
A special treat Elsie all the way from our Rachel’s new home
Do you want me to leave you alone I can sit on that bench if you want to be alone?
No lad she liked you a lot her Rachel had married a posh boy it made her so happy
I am glad I have only happy memories of Elsie
I see a lot of her in our Rachel the quietness of her manner sometimes they would sit next to each other without speaking but I knew they were deep in conversation
They had an understanding
Peter looked at the gravestone and brushed some of the natural debris that had accumulated
As he did that I kicked a used hypodermic into a nearby drain before he saw it although he must have come across many himself
She only had one vice you know and that is what killed her
I nagged her for years but to no avail
She continued to smoke and smoke
And in the end it finished her off
I am glad that Rachel does not smoke as I find the habit appalling
Would you stop her if she did?
We would discuss it
That is what I love about you youngsters you discuss everything
We share
I actually banned Elsie from smoking in the house but she lit up whenever I was not looking
I grew tired of telling her and finally gave up
That was my biggest mistake
There was a space under the his wife’s dates that lay blank and was obviously intended for future use
This is where I will lie when I go nowhere else they should start putting my dates in now
You are fit as a fiddle
Not for much longer I would imagine
You handle the boys without any sign of fatigue where Rachel and I are exhausted at the end of the day
As we stood by the grave a group of teenagers passed us
They did not say or do anything but I felt the old man’s hackles rise
If only the German’s had won
Instead of going back to house we had a coffee at a chain café in the centre of the town
Peter sat quietly watching people
I will be on my way in an hour if that is suitable to you
The old man did not answer immediately
Promise me one thing will you
Tell me
If I move down to Somerset with you would you when the time comes bring my ashes back and bury them next to Elsie’s
Of course we will
The earth may be dour but it is the earth that has supported Preston people for centuries
I am a Preston man and Elsie was a Preston girl
She lies in the Preston soil and I know that she would not mind me spending my remaining years somewhere else as long as I join her in eternity
The decision when it was made was as easy as that and within six months Rachel’s father had joined us in the West Country
He often related stories of the grimy north to those who would listen in the pub and taught the boys to play dominoes
His demons remained unseen although I knew he kept a diary which I vowed never to read
Even after his death
These were his private thoughts
The Preston Marginal