Lost Cousins

One day the phone went. The lady on the other end: ‘Is that Eric’s house?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Well,’ came the voice over the phone, ‘I’m looking for my cousin, my name is Gillian.’ ‘Oh yes, he has mentioned a cousin called Gillian.’ She asked me if I could answer a few questions. Gillian, the voice on the other end, asked if she could meet my husband, her cousin. ‘I’d like to meet him as I’ve not seen Eric since I was eight years old.’ We both agreed that was a long time ago. Gillian said: ‘I’d like to give him a surprise.’ She asked if Mothering Sunday would be alright? I replied: ‘As far as I know!’ Gillian’s voice on the end: ‘Can you keep a secret?’ She wished to surprise Eric. I said: ‘I’m expecting my family that day but not sure when.’ She said: ‘Goodbye for now, see you on Mothering Sunday.’ So picking the phone up I rang my daughter Heather and told her all about it. ‘Now you must keep it a secret from your dad.’ She did, also the rest of the family.

Time came for the big day. Eric was ironing sheet bedding, as my arms cannot lift heavy things, those being one of them. They just can’t cope with weight. A nervous me kept walking in and out, going to the front room, looking out; going again, looking out. I knew that Gillian’s son had driven her up from Coventry. I waited until she knocked on the front door and went to open it. ‘Eric come here there’s someone to see you.’ ‘I’m Gillian and this is Steve my son.’ Eric couldn’t think for a second, and then Gillian said: ‘I’m your cousin.’ Tears flowed from both cousins. They came into our back room and sat down. I then had to quickly ring Heather, my daughter, to say they had arrived.

Gillian told us all how it started. She had to attend a funeral at Stockport Cemetery. There were lots of questions: Who’s who, did you know so and so. Late afternoon came though they had tea and coffee, as this is only what Steve drank. We’d rather rushed dinner. My daughter helped as her husband and our granddaughter had gone to see her other grandparents. After meeting Gillian and Steve, Heather sent a text to her brother Adrian to tell him about it. Hours later he came. We looked at old photos of her and Eric’s families going way back. Steve thanked us, also thanked us for his new family but he and his mum would have to go as he had work in the morning. Arrangements were made for them to see us again.

So in April they came up here again to sort out the family tree, as Steve had some holiday owing. They stayed at a small hotel. This was because Gillian had polio when young and walks like me with a stick but for different reasons. This time all prepared for the time they had with us. Dinner got ready we had tea and coffee as before. Then looked at the family trees, which came about as Heather’s mother-in-law, like me, is interested in family history. Steve and I looked at one family tree while Gillian and Eric looked at another. We laughed a lot and guessed about each family. Where did they go? Eric took Steve and Gillian into Edgeley to get some food. This gave me time to put the crumble in the oven, plus the potatoes in the steamer, also cut the chicken, make the gravy and set the table. This being done I made a drink and waited, not knowing they had walked. When they came home we had dinner and many a laugh. Gillian is a laughing person. After dinner Gillian washed up, I dried. We talked a lot. After a little break Gillian and I got on with sorting the family in the right order. When teatime came Heather rang us. We were still sorting out things. She rang to see if I was going shopping as usual? ‘No,’ I replied, explaining we were still solving the family. Gillian laughed: ‘We’ll be here ‘til midnight.’ So Heather said she would go to her mother-in-law’s to get some more info on the family and would come later with it. Time passed, we were asked to go to my daughters, as my granddaughter was not well. So Steve took us, we directed him. Heather made tea. She put on her computer so Gillian and Steve could see the family tree, this with laughs and chatting. I looked at the clock to see it was late. Heather’s husband, Paul, had only just walked in from work so we collected all our things and said our goodbyes. Steve and Gillian dropped us at our house and arrangements were made for the next day.

The Next Day

They arrived at eleven o’clock. Steve and Eric walked into Stockport, Gillian and I got the bus saying we would meet at the library. Once there we all went upstairs to the history department to have the tree photographed so she could take it home when they returned next day – after finishing at the library we went into the market getting bacon for my husband from our usual stall. It was time for a cup of tea in St Mary’s, this gave Gillian a well deserved rest. With a warm tea down us and hot coffee for the men plus a cake or two, we sat for a while. After that I asked Steven and Gillian, with the support of Eric, if they would like to see the Heritage Centre? Yes, that would be nice. As we walked around looking at things in St Mary’s the new family really took it all in. Telling Gillian to mind the step we got up to the choir stalls. Gillian and Steve stopped to look at the things on the walls, reading them. I started to go through the arch to show them the little church when Steve called me back. I came and lo and behold there was a photo of our wedding day. Steve said he recognised it from the photo I have at home. ‘You know Chris I thought I’d seen it somewhere!’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘that’s us.’ Me being small I had to stand on a box to see it, being only four foot ten inches in height. Gillian and Eric were still looking round in the church, but they walked into the history room. I took a book and showed her my old primary school called the Tin Bucket. As I was doing this a voice from the past spoke: ‘Did you say the Tin Bucket?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I went there.’ ‘This is most interesting. Did you know the headmaster Mr Humphries?’ ‘Oh yes, I remember him.’ Then we got onto viaducts as Gillian is studying this sort of thing. I’d taken Steve to see the room where our history magazines were sold. Getting one I gave it him as a present to remember Stockport, because some of his family come from Stockport as mine did.

We left the church and made our way to what my mum used to call the Hen Market, this was for eggs. We bumped into friends and chatted. They were pleased with themselves because they had sold their house and got a new one nearer their daughter. I said to Steve, ‘I could do with a drink.’ The other part of the family were still talking. The lady said: ‘We shut at three.’ So he hurried off to where the rest of the family were. They quickly came. I think the cafe lady didn’t mind as there were seven of us so it was extra for them pennywise. We soon got our teacakes, tea, etc, chatting to friends we’d known for a long time. It came to light one of the friends had a relative near where Gillian came from.

Another rest, then off again passed the Castle Yard, down the slope into town. We took them to see our old hall, now a bank, with it’s large fireplace. We then made it to the town centre were we boarded the bus and the men walked home. We had dinner when we got in, Eric made a bread and butter pudding.

This was their day. And ours!

By Anne Knight