Still issues in here with Billy calling Mr Brown by first name. Pondering that one.

Chapter four

CRICKET AND MEMORIES.

The next day was Saturday.  I’ve always been an early riser and so I was up drinking my morning cup of tea and eating toast and Marmite before anyone else in the street was stirring.  It was a beautiful late September morning.  There was a clear blue sky that promised a warm day ahead.

  Anyway, after a bit of pottering around I settled down in the parlour. I suppose that’s what you’d call the front room or lounge these days.  The paper had just arrived and from my chair I had a good view of the street.  When you get to my age it’s almost as much fun watching other people do things as it is doing them yourself.

 I’d just finished reading the sports pages and was about to see what was happening in the world at large when I saw Hugh Pugh cross the street and knock on the Bartholomew’s door.  After a short wait a boy appeared at the door who was of a similar age to Hugh.  He was carrying a cricket bat and they’d soon set up a scratch game using an old milk crate as stumps.  Hugh was bowling and the Bartholomew boy was batting.

 Hugh wasn’t much of a bowler, but the Bartholomew boy could certainly swing that bat.

 About five minutes later Billy appeared and started talking to Hugh.  Now I’m not much of a lip reader, but it was clear that he wanted to join in the game.  Hugh wasn’t very keen by the looks of things but eventually he gave Billy a shove and pointed down the street.  Billy’s face brightened up and he trotted off and took up his fielding position.

 The game went on for quite a while with Hugh and the Bartholomew boy taking it in turns to bat and bowl while poor old Billy just kept running up and down fetching the ball and throwing it back to whoever was bowling.

 Well you can probably imagine how frustrated I was watching this with neither of the boys offering Billy a turn at batting or bowling.  I had a good mind to go out there and sort them out when Billy decided the same thing.  He’d just fielded the ball near to the bowling crease, a water board man-hole cover, and took a run up and bowled a beautiful off spin ball at Hugh.

 “What you doing?”  Even I heard Hugh shout this through my front window.  “Who said you could bowl?  Get lost!”

 Well I was up and at my front door before you could say Jack Robinson, but before I had chance to sort it out Mr. Pugh was there to smooth things out.  Or so I thought.

 “Billy Grimson,” he growled.  “What have I told you?  I don’t want the likes of you playing with my Hugh.”

 “But I was only…...”

 And before Billy could say any more Mr. Pugh was into him again.  “I don’t want any of your back chat lad.  Go and play with your own kind.”

 Hugh Pugh stood there looking wickedly self satisfied.  He tipped a wink at the Bartholomew boy.

 “He just came and butted in dad.  He said he’d batter us if we didn’t let him play,” he whined.

 With out another word Billy turned heel and trudged back towards his house staring at his scuffed trainers as he went.  Well I couldn’t help myself.

 “Billy,” I said.  “Do you want to come in and have a biscuit and a drink.  It looks like hot work, all that running around.

 I know children are not supposed to talk to strangers, but we were on first name terms and I did live next door after all.  Across the street Mr. Pugh just glared at me and then went back into his house slamming the front door.  That was one enemy I’d made, but I wasn’t bothered about counting him amongst my friends.

 Billy cheered up immediately and headed straight for my door.

 “Chocolate or cream?” he asked.

 “Whatever you fancy Billy.”

 “Thanks mister, I mean Ted.”

As I’ve probably told you, I’d not been moved in long and there were still a few boxes here and there that still needed unpacking.  Billy sat on one while I made him a glass of squash and got the biscuit tin out.

 “What you got in all these boxes then?” Billy asked.

 That was quite a difficult question to answer.  I mean I’d unpacked all the things I really needed like clothes and tea-pots and such.  What was left were the things Elsie and me had collected or saved over a life time together.  These were things that all held special memories.  I’d been meaning to unpack them for a few days but just couldn’t face it.  Now seemed like as good a time as any.

 “Let’s have a look shall we Billy?” I said with more jollity than I felt.

 Billy jumped up and prized open the lid of the box he was sat on.  It was marked ‘treasures’ in black felt pen.

 “Is there loads of jewels and things in here then Ted?  We’ve been writing about pirate’s treasure in school.”

 “No Billy.  Just things that are valuable to me.”

 He looked a bit disappointed but started to lift things from the box and spread them on the floor.  The first thing that caught his eye was a framed photograph of Elsie and me stood at the end of Suncliff-On-Sea pier.  It must have been taken nearly thirty years before.  We both looked quite young and very happy.  I can clearly remember asking another day tripper to take the picture.

 “I know that place,” said Billy.  “It’s Suncliff-On-Sea isn’t it?  We go there every summer.  Or at least we did until my dad took ill.”

 I was dying to ask him about his dad, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he was back in the box lifting out Elsie’s special box.  The one she kept her jewellery in.

 “I thought you said there was no treasure in here,” he said with a grin.

 “Oh that’s not treasure, not really.  There’s just Elsie’s rings and things in there.”

 “Who’s Elsie Ted?”

 “Well, Elsie was my wife.”

 “Where is she then?”

 This was turning out harder than I expected.  Elsie and me had never had children, although we’d wanted them, and I wasn’t used to such direct questions.  Not that Billy was being rude or anything.  He was just inquisitive.

 “Elsie’s dead Billy,” I said.  It was harder to say aloud than I’d imagined and I had to look away so as not to let him see I had a tear in my eye.  “She died a few months ago, before I moved in here.”

 Billy looked crest-fallen.  “Sorry Ted.”  He got up to go.

 “No, it’s alright Billy.  She was a lovely lady and I miss her, but I’ve got to get on with it.”

 He looked at me and then at the jewellery box.

 “Go on then,” I said.  “Let’s see what’s inside.”

 Well, there wasn’t much.  Her wedding and engagement rings and a few pairs of clip-on earrings.  She’d never held with ear piercing.  

 “If God had meant me to have holes in my ears,” she’d say, “I’d have been born with them.”

 Underneath all of this was a velvet purse.  Billy gently unfolded it and tipped it up onto his open hand.  Out fell the necklace with the single diamond I’d bought her when I’d won the pools all those years ago.

 “Wow Ted.  That’s lovely,” he gasped.

 “Now that’s the only thing in there that’s worth any real money.” I said.

 “Best put it back in the wallet then,” Billy said, carefully placing it back inside and folding the purse up again.

 “I know.  Why don’t we put the jewellery box there on the side board where I can see it?”

 Billy held it out in front of him and carried it over to the sideboard as if he was carrying the crown jewels.  He put it down next to the clock and gasped.

 “Flippin’ eck!  Is that the time?  I’m supposed to be looking after dad and Little Al so mum can take Michelle to town to get some new shoes.  She’s going to kill me.”

 He headed for the door in quite a hurry and then stopped, looking back at me.

 “Thanks for the biscuits and drink Ted,” he said.  “You’re alright you are.”

 “My pleasure Billy.  Come back any time you like.”

 “I will.  See you!”

 And with that he was gone leaving me alone with a half unpacked box and a mind full of memories.  I knew I was right about Billy.  He was a nice boy, and all the people around here who thought otherwise could boil their heads!