The photograph on the wall

The photograph on the wall

Then

Lily stood on the edge of the platform unsure of what to do next. Around her children were waving and ladies were sobbing into already wet handkerchiefs, Mummy included. She knew her Daddy had gone away but she didn’t know why? He had told her last night as he tucked her into bed to look after her Mummy and her baby brother Tommy until he came home. Home from where? The only time he left the house was when he went to work at the bank. Other than that, he stayed at home. At weekends he worked in the garden carefully tending the potatoes, runner beans, peas and carrots that he grew every year and in the winter he was to be found in the house fixing shelves or painting. Once a year they went on holiday to the beach and Lily would ride on the donkeys and eat ice cream. Why only last month he had finished decorating her bedroom. Mummy had made some beautiful curtains with pink and yellow flowers and lined them with black material that had really spoilt them in Lily’s view. Mummy had explained though that the black material was just to keep the room dark at night when it was so light outside in the summertime..

‘When will Daddy be back, Mummy?’ Lily asked as she helped push the blankets round Tommy who was now back in his pram.

‘Soon I hope’ Mavis Miller replied, avoiding eye contact with her daughter so that she wouldn’t see the ever present tears that were threatening to spill.

‘Next week?’ said Lily hopefully. Catching sight of her Mum’s worried face Lily stopped talking and looked into her eyes.

‘Mummy? Are you alright?’ she asked, the first feelings of anxiety creeping into her young mind. Lily had rarely seen her Mummy upset. The last time was when Granny Ida had died and then Mummy had cried for days.

‘Oh, I’m fine Lily, don’t fuss. Come on, let’s go to ‘Betty’s’ and have a cup of tea and piece of cake’. With that, Mavis turned the Silver Cross pram round and started walking purposefully towards the tea rooms that were situated just across the road from the railway station.  It seemed however, that everyone had the same idea and Betty’s was bustling with women and children all wanting refreshments. Lifting Tommy from his pram Mavis turned to Lily and told her to follow her upstairs ‘no dilly dallying now or we won’t get a seat’.

Once upstairs Lily sat down and took in her surroundings. She loved coming in here. It was a such rare treat that she knew it must be a special day. There were a dozen tables each seating four people, three of which already had occupants. Each table had a blue and white checked tablecloth with a pretty floral vase filled with daffodils.  Bone china tea cups and saucers with matching side plates were laid out ready in anticipation of hot sweet tea and buttery cakes.  As she looked round Jean Chilvers, resplendent in white frilly apron and lace cap, came up the stairs to take their order. Jean was one of Mummy’s best friend’s and Mummy looked pleased to see her.

‘Alright duck?’ she asked Mavis squeezing her arm in a friendly gesture.

‘Have to be don’t I ‘Mummy replied ‘Not much I can do about it now. Just have to make the best of things until he’s back’.

‘What can I get you luvvie’, Jean turned to Lily smiling.

‘Can I have some orange squash please and please can I have a piece of cake Mummy? ‘

‘ A cup of tea for me and two pieces of your sponge please Jean’ Mavis Miller gave Jean the order and sat down next to Lily.

Lily smiled at her Mummy - this really was a special day! A visit to ‘Betty’s’ and cake! She must remember to write this in her diary tonight before she went to sleep.

In the weeks and months that followed, Lily would always remember that day. Although told Daddy had gone away to fight for his country she was still home with Mummy and Tommy and she was looking after them just as she had promised.

Daddy wrote to them when he could, and Lily knew Mummy treasured those letters as she saw them by accident one day when she was in Mummy’s room looking for her hairbrush. She hadn’t meant to read them but she had and knew then how much Daddy missed them. This made her sad but if she told Mummy then she would know she had read them and she would be in big trouble.

Daddy sometimes came home for a few days, but when he did he was moody and snapped at her and even Mummy. He’d never ever snapped at Mummy before so Lily knew he must be unhappy. It was a relief sometimes when he left to go back, though Lily would never have said that out loud.

Now

Lily sat at the table sipping on her cappuccino. She couldn’t believe the café was still here opposite the railway station. It was called ‘The Cosy Café’ now although it was anything but. Formica tables and hard plastic seats were uninviting but at least the coffee was nice. Lily was here visiting her old friend Hetty and whilst Hetty was at the hairdressers having her weekly wash and set she thought she’d take a trip down memory lane. She’d taken a taxi to her old house. Although she knew it was long gone she still loved to see where she’d grown up. A supermarket now stood in her old street but Lily could still envisage the rows of houses facing each other over the cobbles.  From there she’d gone to her school which was still there but looked so small now. Funny how things always seem to look smaller when you grew up.

Finishing her coffee Lily made her way over to the railway platform. She was a bit unsteady on her feet these days but had lately decided that using a walking stick was acceptable – if the Queen could use one then so could she.

The station was no longer in use now but open to the public as a museum. The old ticket office had been left exactly as it had been before Mr Beeching closed it. They even had an electric fire (a new addition) glowing brightly in the hearth.  Wandering around the old waiting rooms Lily looked at the photos on the wall fondly remembering days gone by.  Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. The picture was faded in the frame but Lily could still make out the people on the platform. She hadn’t known all those years ago that there had been a photographer there on that day and, for a moment, she was seven years old again standing on the edge of the platform with Mummy and Tommy waving her Daddy off to war. As she looked at the picture that was holding her attention she could make out two figures on the edge of the platform. Mummy standing next to the old Silver Cross pram and a young Lily, her little hand frozen in a wave as she said goodbye to her Daddy. Her parents had died long ago. Her father just after the war and her mother twenty years ago. Tommy had died only last year having lived a full life, just as Lily had done. Her memory played tricks on her these days. It was not as sharp as it had once been and if she didn’t know better she would swear she had imagined the scene all those years ago on the station.  But it wasn’t her imagination - the proof was there in a black and white photograph hanging on the railway waiting room wall.