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Happy Sad Speculative

“Can I tell yuh something? I always ‘ated cricket. God, if our Dad ‘eard me say tha’. I’ve not told you about this already ‘ave I?... Oh good, do tell me if I’m goin’ on. We used to ‘ave one of them ‘ouses which were built befor’t war so they ‘ad cellar, y’know fuh coal n that. It were a bit leaky in’t corner, and me mam used to keep us meat down there on ‘ooks so it were chill’d. Anyway, our Dad wanned boys bu’ree got stuck wi’h three gurls, poor old sod. I mean, little ‘ope didn make it past 3 poor thing but we were allw’s a fam’ly of 5 m’ mam med sure we knew. Lass or nay though, Didn stop our Dad! ‘e took us down’t cellar ev’ry Sunday wi’out fail after mass! ‘e’d pass us bat wun by wun n say “Rheet, stand there, ‘old yer bat like tha’. It’s a shield no’ a sword.” Stuff like tha’, little nuggets of wisdom or so I thought, then ‘e’d ‘url balls at us ov’r n ov’r till we wus all buggered, or get us to ‘url balls at each other, or across ‘ room till we could spin it this way n tha’. I wasn’t really game furrit but I could never say no to our Dad.

I might not a’ liked it but it wucked! I tell you, your great Ant Audry, she’s gone now God rest ‘er, she wus best woman spin bowler in’t county. Coulda played fur’t country too if women could play in those days. They wus different times though then. Sayin’ tha, our Dad wasn’t tekkin any nonsense about us being girls. He said “Lads ‘ave it easy in this world, means you ‘ave to work twice as ‘ard.” And bloody ‘ell ‘e med sure we did! I wus so fit by the time I wus 9, I cud out sprint all’t boys in me year. That was all thanks to me Dad, he med us practice runs in’t backgarden till we could bareleh breathe. Me mam would go crackers, cause she wus tryin’ to hang’t washin’ out. Eh bu’ I was quick though, so quick tha’ when I reached 15, I was up for try outs fer’t regional championships. ‘e wus proper proud my Dad.

Shem really, that was when’t war started, all events like that ‘ad to be cancelled. Dad was carted off to France to join’t rest o’ poor souls fightin’. Did you know when he walked out door he left a bloody gret scrape on’t porch wall wi that daft tin ‘at. Me mam were fumin’ but she never painted over it till ‘e cem ‘ome. Wus all we ‘ad of ‘im part from a little photo for all that time. Aye it were tough, it was rotten for us to see dad go. ‘ard on me Mam too I reckon, though she never show’d it. Did we evacuate? No, no we never did. Only tiny town we liv’d in. Mind you, we often felt the shek when’t bombs fell. Our Mam used to tell us to get under’t table while she lay on top to mek sure we wus safe. She were lovely our Mam, firm but fair, even more so wi Dad gone. Alw’ys put us first you know. If we wanted seconds, she’d have none you know?

Remember I told you, I ‘ated cricket? Well it were actually at a game of cricket where I met yer grandad! I know. It were 1944, ‘n we’d all started to brave goin’ outside a bit more. So anyway down’t park there was a cricket game goin’ on n all’t lads who’d been too young to fight ov’r sea were havin’ a bat. There wus me n Audrey, out to tek the air n we saw ‘em swinging away like they wus tryin’t swat birds from’t sky. We jus’ laughed our ‘eads of at ‘em n before long up comes this bonnie lookin’ lad askin’ us if we can do any better. ‘is blood was clearly up ‘n we could ‘ave left ‘em t it. B’rinstead, we thrashed ‘em! Ran ‘em all out for six. They couldn’ bowl a ball fu toffee, lerralone for enythin’ else.

Y’ grandad walked me n Audrey ‘ome after tha. Said ‘e’d like to see us agen and well, the rest as they say is ‘istry. I wus lucky, m’Dad cem back a few months later, just before it was all over n he was jus’ the same as when ‘e left, only ‘e smoked now. ‘e never told us any ‘orror stories, only’t funny ones. Told us about when ‘im and a few of his mates went to take what they thought was a German watch tower, only to find out it were some poor kids tree’ouse. ‘e was ‘appy when he met yer Grandad, said he was a good young man, n they got on really well, all the way up until me Dad died. It was the smokin’ that did it y’know. Infected his lungs. Remember ‘im showin me all the tar that leaked out is cigarette n sayin’ “Don’ touch these lass, cause this goes inside you.”

At least before it got t0o bad, ‘e saw me run. I’ve shown you me medals ‘aven’t I? Tha’s them on’t wall behind you, in’t frame. Aye, I did pretty well in all. Could ‘ave gone further but, me n your grandad wanted a fam’ly more and ‘ere you are. I think we made the right call, don’ you? I do miss ‘im. Your Grandad. ‘e drove me up the flippin’ wall. I suppose I drove ‘im crackers too but tha’s what we lived on. Y’know we ‘ad a fantastic life, even before we ‘ad us children and they ‘ad you. We ‘ad it good.”

The fog came and drifted over her eyes for a second. She blinked and suddenly noticed me again sat in the room as I had been for the last half hour. “Oh, hello love,” She said with a smile, “I didn’ see you come in.” I smiled back at her.

“Hello Nan. It’s lovely to see you.” Still smiling she looked over at two photos on a shelf in her room; one of a man in uniform, and one of her and Grandad. “Y’know my Dad.” She began. “He loved cricket, but can I tell yuh something? I always ‘ated cricket. God, if our Dad ‘eard me say that.” She frowned as she spoke then asked me. “I’ve not told you about this already ‘ave I?” I looked up at the clock on the wall. There was still another half hour left of visiting time. I smiled at her and got comfy. “No Nan! No, you haven’t.”

November 18, 2020 19:44

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