Now, where were we?
Middlemoss Living Archive Recordings: Nancy Bright.
As I drove out of London and headed north for Christmas my heart lifted with each passing mile. It always did, because West Lancashire and, more specifically, the village of Sticklepond was always going to feel like home to me. You can take the girl out of Lancashire, but you cant take the Lancashire out of the girl
I would have moved back there like a flash, if it werent that my fiancé, Justin, was an orthopaedic consultant whose work was in London, not to mention his being so firmly tied to his widowed mothers apron strings that he spent more time with Mummy in Tunbridge Wells than he did with me. And even when he wasnt with Mummy Dearest, I still came second to his latest passion golf.
Justins mother was only one of the many things weighing on my mind the sharp, pointy tip of the iceberg, you might say. Shed be staying at the flat in London while I was away and I knew from past experience that by the time I got back she would have thoroughly purged my unwanted presence from it by dumping all my possessions into the boxroom I used as a studio to write and illustrate my popular Slipper Monkey childrens books.
Id tried so hard to get on with her, but I was never going to be good enough for her beloved little boy. In fact, I once overheard her refer to me as that bit of hippie trash you picked up on the plane back from India, and though its true that Justin and I met after I was unexpectedly upgraded to the seat next to his in Business Class, Im a couple of decades too young to have been any kind of hippie!
I suppose many people did still go to India to find themselves, whatever they mean by that. In my case Id gone to find my father. Now, he was an old hippie, if you like
Still, at least Id tried with Justins mother, which is more than he did on his one and only visit to Aunt Nan in Sticklepond, when hed made it abundantly clear that he thought anything north of Watford was a barbaric region to be avoided at all costs, full of howling wolves, black puddings and men in flat caps with whippets.
He did condescendingly describe Aunt Nans ancient stone cottage. set in a stone-flagged courtyard just off the High Street, its front room given over to a tiny shoe shop, as quaint. But then, that was before Aunt Nan made him sleep downstairs on the sofa in the parlour. I told him she disapproved of cohabitation before marriage so strongly that he was lucky she hadnt taken a room for him at the Green Man next door, but he failed to see the funny side.
Still, you can see why wed spent our Christmases apart during our long engagement, not to mention many weekends too, what with him in Tunbridge Wells with Mummy (and a convenient golf course) and me heading home at least once a month and more often than that, as Aunt Nan got frailer
Aunt Nan was actually my great-aunt, aged ninety-two, and as she kept reminding me, wouldnt be around for ever. Shed brought me up and I adored her, so obviously I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could, but I also wanted her to see me married and with a family of my own, and so did she. And if I didnt get a shift on, that last option would be closed to me for ever, another thing weighing on my mind.
I knew it could be more difficult to get pregnant after thirty-five, so without telling Justin Id booked myself into a clinic for a fertility MOT and the result had been a real wake-up call. The indication was that I had some eggs left, but probably not that many, so I needed to reach out and snatch the opportunity to have children before it vanished if it hadnt already.
When Justin and I had first got engaged we were full of plans to marry and start a family, yet there we were, almost six years down the line, and he seemed to have lost interest in doing either. In fact, I could see that he was totally different from the man I fell in love with, though the change had happened so slowly I just hadnt noticed. Perhaps its like that with all relationships and it takes a sudden shock to make you step back and take a good clear look at whats been happening.
I mainly blamed Mummy Dearest for poisoning Justins mind against me, dripping poisonous criticisms into his ear the whole time, though she hadnt been so bad the first year or maybe Id been so in love I simply hadnt registered it.
Justin and I were such opposites, yet until the golf mania took hold, we used to love exploring the London parks together, and before he became such a skinflint, we used to go to a lot of musical theatre productions, too. When I first found out about Justins secret passion (we must have seen We Will Rock You five or six times!) I found it very endearing
As the radio cheered me on my way north with a succession of Christmas pop songs, I knew that when I got back to London we would need to do some serious talking.
Aunt Nans mind seemed to have been running along the same lines as mine, because she decided it was time for us to have a little heart-to-heart chat the very day after I arrived.
My best friend, Bella, was looking after the shop and Aunt Nan had spent the first part of the morning shut away in the parlour with Cheryl Noakes, the archivist who was recording her memoirs for the Middlemoss Living Archive scheme. This seemed to perk up my aunt no end, despite awaking bittersweet memories, like the loss of her fiancé during the war.
Id shown Cheryl out and returned to collect the tray of coffee cups and any stray crumbs from the iced fairy cakes that she might have overlooked, when Aunt Nan said suddenly, What will you do with the shop when Im gone, lovey?
She was still sitting in her comfortable shabby armchair, a gaily coloured Afghan rug over her knees (she believed overheated houses were unhealthy, so the central heating, which Id insisted she had put in, was always turned down really low), crocheting another doily for my already full-to-bursting bottom drawer.
With a pang I realised how little room her once-plump frame took up in the chair now. When had she suddenly become so small and pale? And her curls, which had been as dark as her eyes, just like mine, were now purest silver
Shouldnt you leave it to Immy, Aunt Nan?
No, she said uncompromisingly. Your mother hates the place and shes got more money than sense already, the flibbertigibbet! Anyway, she seems to be sticking with this last husband and making her home in America now.
Thats true! Marrying a Californian plastic surgeon seems to have fulfilled all her wildest dreams.
Aunt Nan snorted. Shes probably more plastic by now than a Barbie doll!
Her face was starting to look a bit strange in that last picture she emailed me, I admitted. All pulled up at the corners of her eyes, so they slanted like a cats. I hope she doesnt overdo it. I didnt realise you could have your knees lifted, did you? But she says you can and your knees show your age.
She shouldnt be showing her knees to anyone at her age. But there, thats Imogen all over, shallow as a puddle from being a child. Except that shes the spitting image of her mother, youd think there wasnt a scrap of Bright blood in her
She paused, as if at some painful recollection, and then said firmly, No, Im passing on the shop and cottage to you, because youre a true Bright and you come back every chance you get, like a homing pigeon.
She paused, as if at some painful recollection, and then said firmly, No, Im passing on the shop and cottage to you, because youre a true Bright and you come back every chance you get, like a homing pigeon.
I do love the place, but I come back because I love you, too, I said, a few tears welling, and I cant bear to think of you gone.
You great daft haporth, she said fondly. You need to be practical about these things, because Im ninety-two and Ill be ready to go soon, like it or not!
But do we have to talk about it now?
Yes. She nodded her head in a very decided manner, her silver curls bobbing. Im not flaming immortal, you know! Ill soon be shuffling off this mortal coil, as I told the vicar last time he called.
Oh, Raffy Sinclairs gorgeous! I sighed, distracted by this mention of our new ex-rock star vicar.
Hes also very much married to Chloe Lyon that has the Chocolate Wishes shop, and theyve got a baby now, Aunt Nan told me severely.
I know, and even if he wasnt married, hed still be way out of my league!
No one is out of your league, Tansy, she said. The vicars a decent, kind man, for all his looks, and often pops in for a chat. And that Seth Greenwood from up at Winters End, hes another whos been good to me this last couple of years: I havent had to lift a hand in the garden other than to pick the herbs from my knot garden, and he or one of the gardeners from the hall keeps that trim and tidy, and looking a treat.
Seths another big, attractive man, like the vicar: youre a magnet for them! I teased.
I was at school with his father, Rufus, and Ive known Hebe Winter for ever has a hand in everything that goes on in Sticklepond, she does, despite her niece inheriting the hall.
And marrying Seth. In fact, marrying the head gardener seems to be becoming a Winter tradition, doesnt it?
He and Sophy have got a baby too. Theres so many little uns around now, Im starting to think theyre putting something in the water.
I felt a sudden, sharp, anguished pang, because when youre desperate to have a baby, practically everyone else seems to have one, or be expecting one.
But Nan had switched back to her original track. I dont suppose youll want to keep the shop open. Goodness knows, its been more of a hobby to me than a business the last few years, and Id have had to close if Providence hadnt sent Bella back to the village, looking for a job. The Lord moves in mysterious ways.
He certainly does, I agreed, though I wasnt sure that losing both her partner and her home in one fell swoop, and then being forced to move into the cramped annexe of her parents house with her five-year-old daughter, Tia, was something Bella saw in the light of Providence. But it had been a huge relief to me when she started working in the shop, because she could keep an eye on Aunt Nan for me too.
Theres been a Brights Shoes here since the first Bright set up as a cobbler and clog-maker way back, so I feel a bit sad that itll end with me. But there it is, Aunt Nan said. Perhaps you and Justin could use the cottage as a holiday home assuming you ever get round to marrying, that is, because I wouldnt like to think of any immoral goings-on under this roof!
Having the cottage as my very own bolthole in the north would be wonderful, I agreed, but I really dont want to see Brights Shoes close down! Do you remember when you used to take me with you to the shoe warehouses in Manchester in the school holidays? Youd be searching for special shoes for some customer, or taking bridesmaids satin slippers to be dyed to match their dresses
I could still recall the heady smell of leather in the warehouses and then the treat of tea in one of the big stores before we came back on the train. Not many shopkeepers nowadays would go all that way just to find the exact shoes one customer wanted, but then again, nowadays anyone but my aunt Nan would be tracking them down on the internet. That, together with vintage clothes fairs, was how I was amassing an ever-expanding collection of wedding shoes or vintage shoes so pretty they ought to be wedding shoes. I was collecting them just for fun, but I only wished I had somewhere to display them all.
When you were a little girl you wanted to run the shop when you grew up and find the right Cinderella shoes, as you called them, for every bride.
I remember that, and though Im still not so interested in the wellies, school plimsolls and sensible-shoe side, I do love the way youve expanded the wedding shoe selection. Ive wondered about the possibility of having a shop that specialises in bridal shoes.
Would there be enough custom? Its only been a sideline, Aunt Nan said doubtfully. You dont get much passing trade here either, being tucked away down Salubrious Passage, as we are.
Oh, yes, because people will travel to a specialist shop once they know youre there. I could advertise on the internet, and my shop would stock some genuine vintage bridal shoes as well as vintage-styled ones, so that would be a fairly unusual selling point, I enthused.
That would be different, Aunt Nan agreed. But wouldnt you have the bread-and-butter lines still, like purses and polish and shoelaces?
No, not unless I could find shoe-shaped purses! In fact, I could sell all kinds of shoe-shaped things jewellery, stationery, wedding favours, whatever I could find, I said thoughtfully, because Id be mad not to tap into the tourist trade too, wouldnt I? I mean, the village has become a hotspot between Easter and autumn, since the discovery of that Shakespeare manuscript up at Winters End. The gardens are a draw too, now Seth has finished restoring the knot gardens on the terraces, and then you get the arty lot who want to see Ottie Winters sculpture in the garden and maybe even a glimpse of the great artist herself!
Aunt Nan nodded. Yes, thats very true. And when theyve been to Winters End, they usually come into the village, what with the Witchcraft Museum and then the craft galleries and teashops and the pubs. The Green Man still does most of the catering for lunches and dinners, but Florries installed a coffee machine in the snug at the Falling Star and puts out a sign, and she says they get quite a bit of passing trade. Youd be amazed what people are prepared to pay for a cup of coffee with a bit of froth on it.
Florrie Snowball was Aunt Nans greatest friend and, although the same age, showed no signs of flagging. Aunt Nan said this was because shed sold her soul to the devil, involved as she was in some kind of occult group run by the proprietor of the Witchcraft Museum, Gregory Lyon, but it doesnt seem to have affected their friendship.
Im sure I could make a go of it! I said, starting to feel excited. Until all these plans had suddenly come pouring out, I hadnt realised just how much Id been thinking about it.
Aunt Nan brought me back to earth with a bump. But, Tansy, if you marry Justin, then youll make your home in London, wont you?
He could get a job up here, I suggested, though I sounded unconvincing even to myself. Justin could be transferred to a Lancashire hospital, but I was sure he wouldnt want to. And even if he did want that, Mummy Dearest would have something to say about it!