A Shining Boy

Culworth. Culworth. It said on the piece of paper Auntie Jessie had given him. It had got messy because she’d pushed it into the paper bag holding his cheese sandwiches and cheese sandwiches with marge made for a mess. For the umpteenth time he took it out to memorise it all over again. It was vital to remember Culworth because that was where he had to get off.

He shivered at the thought of missing the station and going heaven knew where and being lost somewhere in England; an abandoned boy with no home. He wished his Mam was with him but, as Auntie Jessie told him repeatedly, his Mam was too poorly to live any more and she’d gone to heaven. He looked out of the window at the sky, they said you went there when you died and always pointed upwards, but he still couldn’t see her, his Mam whom he’d loved.

If she hadn’t died so suddenly he’d have been at school, and it being the middle of the morning he’d be doing arithmetic and he loved arithmetic. It was the best subject in all the day. But no he was on a train for the first time ever. He’d watched them rattling over the bridge at the end of their street all noise and steam and hooting, making a great fuss as though they had no time to stop. This one had better stop or else. . . . . .

Auntie Jessie had given instructions that when he got to Culworth he’d to wave the snow white hanky she’d given him out of the window, because that was the signal. He’d no idea about how long he’d been on the train. She said it would be three hours to Culworth, had he been on the train half an hour or ten minutes, or an hour, he hadn’t the foggiest.

He did know he felt hungry, and he fancied his sandwich. But when he looked at his hands they were too dirty to hold a sandwich. It had all come off the carriage window frame where he’d gripped it in his fear. So he wet his fingers and rubbed them clean with the snow white hanky but then it wasn’t snow white any more.

Panic set in. What would this new Auntie and Uncle think of him waving with a dirty hanky? He’d been told to make a good impression, polite, clean, speak when spoken to, no running. His new Auntie had no children so she didn’t know about boys so he had to try really hard else she’d send him to an orphanage, and he knew all about them. He’d been threatened by his Auntie Jessie about going to an orphanage for most of his life. Which wasn’t long but there’d been plenty of time to frighten the living daylights out of him.

But his new Uncle and Auntie couldn’t make life any worse than it was with Auntie Jessie, that was certain. She shrieked and complained at him all day long. He ate too much. He got too dirty. He wouldn’t stop growing, always needing a bigger pair of shoes. He made too much noise. He didn’t deserve her. Tears came close to welling up in his eyes.

Thing was when he got to Culworth would she be there, this new Auntie? Had she got the letter saying he was coming? Had Auntie Jessie explained in it that his Mam was Uncle Alfred’s sister? If she hadn’t got it, then an orphanage would be the next stop for Vincent Edward Jones.
The train stopped but it wasn’t Culworth, and a man got in. He’d a big handle bar moustache and a thick overcoat on and a scarf and a hat and big leather gloves. Vincent studied his clothes and realised that never in all his years had he ever been warm enough in winter but this man surely was.

‘Excuse me, sir, do you have the time?’

‘Half past ten.’

‘Thank you.’ Vincent did a calculation in his head if it was half past ten then there was another hour and a half before Culworth. He gazed out of the window and to his amazement saw some cows in a field. Dozens of them! Black and white just like in that book at school! But these were real cows, eating grass and walking about. He tried counting them but there were too many. Where had all the houses gone? There weren’t any. Well, just a few but not houses like he knew, these stood by themselves, what about all the others that should be joined on to them in a row, where had all the smoke gone? The factories, the shops? This was all fields just like in that book at school. It dawned on him that this then was the countryside and he’d thought when he saw the pictures that it was all pretend, but it wasn’t. It was for real! And trees! Beautiful huge big trees with the start of new leaves just peeping. So this then was what they called Spring.

If Culworth was like this. . . . .his mind raced at the prospect. Something within him responded joyously, and he knew this was where he belonged. In the countryside.

His Mam would have loved this. She always yearned for fresh air when her breathing was bad, “just a breath of fresh air” she used to whisper.She’d get plenty here. His heart almost tore out of his chest at the thought of her never getting the chance to breath easily and Auntie Jessie saying she couldn’t keep him no more and he’d have to go.

There’d never been a dad. Other children had dads but not Vincent, but his Mam had a wedding ring on her finger, a cheap thing that looked toVincent like a curtain ring but he never said, so there must have been a dad sometime but he was never mentioned.

‘Excuse me, sir, what is the time now please?’

‘Eleven fifteen. Where are you getting off?’

‘Culworth.’

‘I’ll tell you when we’re nearly there, don’t worry. You’re young to travel on your own.’

‘Got no Mam and no Dad so now I’m going to live with someone else.’
‘I see. I think you’re very brave to get on a train by yourself. Do you feel brave?’

Vincent studied this question and decided to answer truthfully. ‘No, I’m scared to bits.’

‘I see. I’ve got some chocolate in my case, has that paper bag you’re clutching got sandwiches in it?’
Vincent nodded.

‘Well, you eat those and then you can finish off with some of my chocolate. How’s that for an idea?’

Vincent almost died of joy. Chocolate! He wondered what it tasted like. ‘Thank you very much, sir, I’ll do that.’

Vincent ate his sandwiches, made a bit of a mess and his hands were crumby and he longed for a drink but when he’d finished the sandwich, which was dry and unpleasant, just like all Auntie Jessie’s food. But needs must. . . .the gentleman got the chocolate bar out of his case and gave it to him. Dairy Milk it said. Dairy Milk. He didn’t know whether to eat it or not, there was so much of it.

‘Unwrap one end of it and eat a few squares. Don’t eat it all at once or you could be sick.’ He smiled in such a kindly way that, encouraged, Vincent burst into activity, ripping off the paper and cramming two squares into his mouth all at once. Was he in paradise then? he’d never tasted such wonderful stuff in all his life, and that was ten years. All those years without chocolate. What he’d missed!

‘Who is meeting you at Culworth?’

‘My new Auntie and Uncle.’

‘I know some people in Culworth, what are their names?’

‘Well, Culworth is the station I’ve to get off at but they don’t live there, they live in Turnham something or other.’

‘Turnham Malpas. Yes, I know that village. You’re a lucky boy and the school is lovely too. Have you been to school?’

Vincent felt quite indignant, him asking that. ‘Of course, I’m ten and top of my class.’

The gentleman smiled gently and Vincent felt foolish. ‘Been going since I was five and I can read and do arithmetic and things.’

‘Of course, if you’re ten. Do you know their names? These people who are expecting you?’

‘Nellie and Alfred Jones.’

‘I see. They’ll be pleased to have such a bright boy to look after.’
Vincent gave the gentleman a wide beaming smile, in fact the biggest smile in all his life because this was the kindest man he’d ever met. And he spoke so nicely, and he’d given him the chocolate.

‘Would you like a piece, sir?’

‘Why, thank you, I would.’

So they shared the chocolate and talked and suddenly it was Culworth.
His hanky! He’d got to wave! He’d got to wave! He heaved on the leather strap pulled down the window and waved and waved. Stepped out onto the paltform and it was a big jump, his heart was pounding, he was short of breath, and he couldn’t see anyone who looked like an Auntie Nellie or an Uncle Alfred. He began to sweat, his mouth went dry and he felt totally abandoned and mortally afraid. He’d no ticket to get back to Auntie Jessie and no money, so it was the orphanage no doubt about it. Oh! Please God, not the orphanage.

‘Alfred! We shall be late. They’ll be taking him away and we shan’t know where he is and. . . . .’

‘Calm down I’ve just heard it pulling in. Whoa, Duke, whoa.’

‘I’ll go look for him while you turn the cart round.’

Nellie, terrified that her only chance of having a child would be snatched away from her, raced through the barrier and on to the platform. There he stood. One unclaimed scrawny, shabby boy. With his bright blue eyes, his fair skin and his hair so blond it positively lit up the platform, he was an angel sent to her directly from heaven. He’d the same colouring as Alfred and could have been his son. So now she knew for certain that God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.

Nellie opened wide her arms and rushed towards him. ‘You must be Vincent? I’m your Auntie Nellie.’ She hugged him with a passion he’d never experienced before in all his life and he responded to her hug with equal passion. He remembered his manners. ‘Good morning. Pleased to meet you. . . . . .Auntie Nellie.’ Holding out his hand for her to shake he looked like the angel she knew he was. Uncle Alfred, waiting with the cart in front of the station, saw Vincent coming through the barrier, and his heart leapt. He’d always dreamed of having a son. There was no doubt in his mind that this boy was his sister Minnie’s, because he looked so much like himself. What a shining boy he was. Then Nellie appeared through the barrier and Alfred saw she too was shining; with love.

This is a story about Vincent Jones the father of Vince Jones. Vince features in all of the Turnham Malpas books. Vince is married to Greta, and lives down Shepherd’s Hill in Nellie and Alfred’s old house. They have three sons, Kenny and our Terry who live in Canada and Barry who works on the Turnham House Estate and is married to Pat.

For the record this event occurred on April 5th 1915.