Stories by Anne Knight
Scribbling and Walking
I have drawn or scribbled since being young. It all started off with
my small children, Margaret and Philip. When they had gone to bed I
would sit quietly in the evening as my husband worked very long hours.
Ben, my husband, would come in as late as 10.30 as he had a long journey
from his works. He always walked to work and back. He never caught a
bus. Sometimes the men gave him a lift. Josh often did. So in the early
evening I would write a story or a poem about my life as a girl or even
do a bit of knitting, perhaps embroidery. As Margaret grew up but still
small, I made clothes for her dollies. For Philip I would make action
clothes.
Sometimes we would go walking with our youngsters, Margaret on her dad’s
back in a papoose but Philip had learned to walk. Once we walked down a
very long road and the children were saying: ‘How far?’ and ‘I’m tired.’
We arrived at the end of the road and came upon a house which appeared
to be empty. It was covered with ivy and we peeped around the door. It
was indeed empty. As we slowly walked my mind was full of stores of the
house. We climbed the creaking staircase to the bedrooms. One room had
an iron bed with a flock mattress. Philip and Margaret squabbled over
the bed. ‘We want to sit on it,’ they proclaimed. I felt the bed to see
if it was dry and no bugs, knowing they were tired. ‘OK, just a little
while.’ We then looked in other rooms. There was an old toilet which the
children made use of – not that they should have.
Leaving the house we soon came to some nice fields where we let the
children play. We sat on some old logs and got out the sandwiches we had
packed. ‘Come on you two, time to eat.’ Getting out a wet flannel I
wiped their hands. No special tissues in our day. It was a lovely day,
the sun was shining and we drank our coffee while the children had
juice. After we had eaten we put the flasks and food containers back
into the rucksacks.
We didn’t walk far as they were still young, so, going past the ivy
house but not stopping this time, we carried on to catch a bus home.
Once back dinner was made and when that was over: a rest, bath time and
bed for two tired children. When they had gone to bed I said to Ben:
‘Well it’s been a very nice day.’
Both of us still remember the ivy house so long ago.