Rebecca's story

"Quick, quick, he's coming down the alleyway" Aida's voice yelled in panic. "Quick, Mam, or else we'll miss him, Mam... Mam...where are you...." her voice tailed off in a plaintive wail of desperation at her missing parent. "Walter," she shouted "run down to the end of the entry and stop him, bring him back here while I get our Mam " Tutting and muttering several expletives under her breath Aida set off back across the yard in search of her quarry. Walter, her younger brother, for once decided to follow his sisters orders, knowing that she was quite capable of boxing his ear should he fail to apprehend the stranger. Aida was very set upon this and Walter knew of old that once Aida had made her mind up about something there was very little that would get in the way of her. Catching up to the young man however didn't prove too difficult to a lad of his age and agility especially as the stranger had drawn such a crowd of interested onlookers out of the back to back court houses that his progress was quite limited in the narrow entry. Especially as he carried a large cumbersome box against his chest and was picking his way gingerly through the discarded rubbish and other unsavoury deluge that littered the alleyway, his face set in an expression of utter disgust. "Mister, Walter pulled at the tail of his smart suit to attract his attention, "Mister, our Mam wants you to take her picture..."

An hour later and Aida had succeeded in her mission. Rebecca had been unearthed from her hiding place in the wash house, piny replaced with one which was faded but slightly less stained. Hair tidied, as far as was possible, she sat in the courtyard in the best arm chair facing the young photographer. He had lost his surly look now that he had gained a commission, only the second of the day, but as his boss had told him once one family parted with their hard earned cash to hire his services others followed suit and he had already had a stream of people stopping by to ask how much he charged. In fact he had been doubtful of the results of the whole enterprise, the idea of actually knocking on doors to ask if the family wanted a portrate taken rather than waiting at the studio for them to come to him. Still what he lacked in enthusium he made up for in experience and the yard had been transformed into his studio, washing quickly taken down and hidden along with the numberous tin baths and other panafinalia. He had taken photos of the girls, Aida and Rose, both together and seperatley,(he understood that Aida was courting and may want a photo to give to her sweetheart) The three sons Walter Harry and William, had posed happily for him, but now came his hardest task, the mother, Rebbecca. It was obvious to see that she was not at all happy to sit still for any period of time and she started to fidget almost immediately. "Please Mrs Holtom could you please sit still for a moment was repeated again and again until Rose, the elder of the two daughters took it upon herself to collect up one of Rebecca's beloved cats which was sunning itself upon the doorstep and dump it unceremoniously on her lap. This seemed to do the trick and Rebecca seemed to calm almost immediately as she started to stroke the animals black silky fur in accompaniment to its soothing pur. "Just give me a little smile, Mrs Holtom he instructed and was surprised to find that she responded almost immediately with a powerful guffle and a wide toothless grin. "Very good now hold that..." Little was he to know that Rebecca's merriment was caused by Harry who was stood behind him mimicking the photographer's habit of constantly flicking out his tailcoat as he bent to stare down the lense. Her Harry was always such a turn Rebecca thought as she chortled in the chair,better than that Charlie chaplin at the pictures just a look and he could make you laugh till you cried.Flash!!!!

At last, her image captured, Rebecca was free, and shooing the now sleeping cat gently off her lap she headed straight up the steps to the kitchen. leaving the photographer to pack up his equipment and while Aida pressed a cup of tea on the unwilling man and William discussed when to pick up the results of the sitting. Rebecca hated being the centre of attention, She had tried so hard to get out of having her photo taken, despite the money it cost she really didn't feel she was worthy of having her image captured for all eternity. But now, looking at her lovely family through the tattered lace curtain that hung from the kitchen window, she was secretly glad that she had given in, glad that at last she would have some pictures to join Richards on the mantel.

Really the money had just been an excuse. For the first time in years the Holtoms were on the up. Walter had a good job in Dunlops rubber company, as a caledar assistant, while Harry was now a driller at Bramptons just down the road. The girls were doing well too, Rose had come back to live with them and had a job at Kynochs while Aida was on the presses too, but at the button factory. It was a far cry from the last ten years when they had all struggled to get by on what she could bring in tramping the streets selling picklets after Richard had died. It was a hard job, up at dawn and in all weathers, still even if she didn't manage to sell all her stock the kids didn't go hungrey. Rebecca took a cup of tea off the mantel that Rose had poured her and sank down gratefully onto the stool by the side of the heath, she smiled thinking that the kids had never moaned at her once when she had returned home despondent and they had ended up with piklets again for tea. Now, she recalled things were much easier, so much so that Walter, her youngest was at school full time and not expected to bring in a wadge as she and her brothers had had to. Life had never been easy for Rebbecca. Her father William had died when she was just six years old leaving her and her and her brother Herbert to help her mother to keep the family afloat. Her younger brother Albert was too young and her sister Ruth had left to go into service so it was left to Rebecca and Herbert to find work as well as taking care of their mother who was blind. Herbert soon found work as a bucket maker, but Rebbecca stuggled for a few years to find a trade not being good with her hands.

She soon found, however, that she had a greater talent, and took to the street markets where she found she could make a decent living selling from a hand cart. Rebecca was no great beauty, her mothers people had been boatmen and Rebecca boasted the heavy joweled and olive skinned gens of her ancestors. However her greatest gift was her personality, she drew people in like a magnet, and people rarely paid attention to her looks or lack of them once they knew her. People would pay a few pence for her piklets to curb the ache in their bellys but a chat with Rebbecca Williamson also served to lift their spirits. She always remembered everyone, their troubles and their joys and good advice and kindness were dispersed in equal measure. Rebbeca didn't waste time berating what was wrong in her life, she never moaned, she just got on with it, day after day. Even when her heart was fit to break and she was sick with worry she always plastered on a smile and trudged along her route. She never judged and she was always interested in everyone, her eyes alight with merriment and kindness.

That was what drew Richard to her from the very first time he met her, he felt that he had come home. Her eyes fell on a photo of a handsome young soldier which held pride of place on her mantel place, Richard..... her Richard. How she still missed him,after all these years, perhaps now that things were not such a struggle even more. In the first dark days the survival instinct kicked in, just as it had when she had found her father lying there so pale and still and knew that she was no longer a child. Then when she had finally learned to trust again and to allow herself to care she had lost Richard too. Her brave gunner who had fought bloody battles for the Royal horse Artillery in Egypt and India but had finally gone to join his maker in the front room of the house in Witton, it didn't seem fair really. Standing she put down the tea cup and made her way to the mantle to pick up her treasured photo, she rubbed her thumb across the smooth cool glass and as she did so a tear made it's way down her lined weather beaten face. The years pealed away and she became lost in the mists of her memories remembering the first time that she had met him. It had been at the Whalf in Birmingham, she smiled through her tears remembering it. She had spent a lot of her spare time there at the time. Her friend Jane was married to Samuel Montgomery who was the master of coal and lime there which meant she often popped in for a chat and a cup of tea.

Rebecca's Mother Sarah had gotten remarried the year before to a dyer called John Walace, and he had moved in to the family home. Rebbecca was glad for her, happy that she had found happiness for a second time. However although her brothers got along well with him she felt uncomfortable both with him and that he was taking her father's place. She had decided to move out so as not to get in the way and had taken a room with a local family the Elkins. They had taken her into their large noisy family from day one but as friendly as they were to her she did try to keep out of their way in the crowded back to back terrace during the daytime. As a result she often found herself at the Whalf or at the home of the Montgomeries in Gravely lane nearby.

Jane and Samuel had come to Birmingham looking for work from a village in Oxford a few years before. They were a close and loving family, both from big families and often tried to help out their relatives in the country by putting them up and finding them work on the canals. Their home was a hive of activity, full of laughter and fun, and Jane realizing how lonely Rebecca was living away from home tried her best to bring her friend into her family.

That day, however, at the wharf she had been looking for her uncle who was bringing a boat through. Rebecca still kept in touch with her mothers family and she knew that her grandfather Samuel Owens had fallen on hard times and was in the union workhouse in Coventry. She had very little spare cash to spare but Mr Elkin was a pawnbroker and he had kindly let her have some clothing for the old man for a few shillings so she was hoping to catch her uncle on his journey back up the canal to Coventry in order that she could get them to him. The boatmen of the canals were a tough lot, many carried alcohol in their loads and helped themselves to what they considered their share of it. Most young women would have steered clear of the wharf but Rebecca's family were the Owens and no one messed with the Owens, after all one of them had been hung for murder committed on that very canal. For that reason Rebecca was unused to any male attention so it was all the more surprising when a handsome young horse driver stepped across her path to stop her on her way.

"So you must be the Rebecca I've heard so much about" the accent was so different to the usual Birmingham tones she was used to that she didn't understand him at first. Hesitating, she took a step backwards unsure of the familiarity, Richard realised then that he had startled her and that she looked as if she would bolt at any minuite, " I'm so sorry, you must be thinking..." he smiled disarmingly and she relised where she had heard that accent before and even the smile was the same. "I'm...."

"Richard" she finished," Jane's brother"....... she told me about you coming to stay, sorry I should have guessed" He had smiled again and she found herself lost in his deep blue eyes, looking back she realized that she had fallen in love with him from that smile.

For Richard however falling in love took a little longer. From the first he treated her like a younger sister, he was kind, teasing, friendly but Rebecca had no illusions that he had any romantic intentions about her. However, being Rebecca, she just decided to make the most of it and just got on with it. She swallowed her dreams and her feelings and just became his sisters friend.

Jane and Richard were cut from a different cloth to her she reasoned. They dreamed big dreams, they weren't content to just survive they wanted to make something of themselves. Rebecca felt it was something to do with where they grew up in the countryside, maybe it was because they had gone to school and could read and write, something Rebecca had never achieved with her lack of attendance. The Montgomerys were always talking of how they wanted to go to America, of how they gave you free land to farm and how you could be your own boss, not have anyone to answer to or have to pay rent to. Rebecca didn't really listen when they started on about it. She had no time for dreams she was far too busy surviving ,and Richards talk about joining the Royal Horse artillery seemed much the same. For all his skill with horses and his softly spoken country accent he was a canal man and who was going to let him join the royal horse artillery. She just loved to hear him talk, to see the light of enthusiasm in his deep brown eyes, just to bask in his luminescence.

When it happened it hit her like a physical blow. Richard had gone. He had joined up in Woolwich and was a driver in the royal horse artillery, he had signed on for twelve years, and she had never told him that she loved him. Still, she reasoned it would not have made any difference, he would still have gone. Then came blow number two, Jane and Samuel leaving for America just a couple of years later. Three of Jane's children went ahead get jobs and sort out a homestead then their parents would follow. Jane and Samuel were much older than Rebecca but still prepared to change their lives and sail across the other side of the world.

Saying goodbye to her best friend was the hardest thing she had ever done, it was so hard not to beg her not to go. But deep down Rebecca knew that she was trying to run away from the pain of losing her beloved daughter Alice a few years before. She knew her friend needed this to make her whole again, no matter how bravely Jane had picked up the pieces and hid away her pain sometimes Rebecca saw it deep in her eyes . Like the time she had had her niece Alice to stay, a young seamstress from Plymouth looking for work in the Birmingham Factories. Jane had opened her home and her heart to her as she had to many others but sometimes when ungraded Rebecca saw her friend looking at the young woman thinking what if... and wishing things had turned out differently for her poor child. Jane wanted her family out of the back to back slums, she wanted her children and grandchildren to work their own land the way their ancestors had. Clean air and your own land, that's what America promised, and as Samuel' s sister and brothers had already gone out it wasn't so much of a pipe dream to the Montgomery's, more of an aspiration.

She had known deep in her heart that day when she saw Jane and Samuel leave for their departure in Liverpool that she would never see her friend again. Jane had promised she would write when they had settled and once they were established send Rebecca a ticket to join them. However Rebecca knew it was futile, even if she was brave enough to leave the only life she had ever known she would never be able to leave her mother Sarah. Even though she had a new life now with William she still depended on Rebecca to stop by every few days to help her out. Rebecca took her family commitments as seriously as Jane and knew she couldn't go running off to the other side of the world no matter how much she yearned for it. Rebecca knew that Jane's departure also meant that she would never see Richard again, after all why would he travel back to Birmingham on leave from Woolwich when Jane had written to tell him that they had left for America.

Rebecca had been shocked to her core when he had turned up at the Elkin's that day, she really had never expected to see him again. He had grasped her in one of his big brotherly bear hugs and she had screamed with joy at the sight of him. Soon however her joy turned to pain as he showed her the card he had received from his sister so many miles away. It was very ornate, black edged in silver and informed them of the death of Samuel Montgomery. The elegant silver copperplate script proclaimed that he had "died far from home". Richard told her that the card had been sent by Samuel's sister .Mary who they had been travelling the Oregon trail to stay with. She had done well for herself and was very much a lady to which appearances counted which explained the ornate proclamation. Of Jane and the children there was no word.

Rebecca and Richard would never know what had happened to them and thinking about it now she realized that their joint grief was one of the things that brought them together. Instinctively she opened a small cigar box at the side of the mantle, and took out the card, old and tattered she had kept it safe through the years like a talisman, hoping that one day it would bring her news of Jane and her family, it was all she had left of them now.

The step from friendship didn't happen overnight but gradually two lost souls sharing a common bond of loss found comfort in each others company. Richard came to seek her out each time he was on leave no longer making excuses for his visiting Birmingham. Together they traveled to his village in Sibford Ferris by Banbury on one of the Owen's boats and there she had met the rest of his brothers and sisters and his mother Alice. Rebecca had met many of them before at Jane's home and almost felt they were her family too. The Holtoms had had no news either, just same the same ornate card and, as most of Samuels family had moved abroad and his mother and father were dead, there was no one to ask. Rebecca learned that Richards family years before had been Quakers and they still had connections to the church. One of the branches of the family were the Lambs who were prominent Quakers and landholders with wealth and influence, and they had contacted the Quaker church in America searching for any news of the family, however as yet nothing had been discovered.

She had loved spending time with Richard as he showed her the quiet little village where he was born, grew up and went to school. In the small Quaker graveyard on the outskirts of the village lay the graves of his grandfather and his great grandfather before him and she could remember being astounded at the idea that someone could trace back their family so far. Her own mother hardly every spoke of her family, the scandal of having a cousin who was hung for murder made you not admit to being an Owen to anyone outside the family. Her father William's past was also not spoken of readily although she knew that he had been married twice before and that he had been illegitimate. She had taken to Richard's mother, Alice immediately, and could see why she was considered a wise woman in the village. Not only was Alice skilled in midwifery and having had eleven children herself Rebecca could well understand why, but Alice was also a peaceful soul, who saw everything and said little. She could see where Jane had inherited her loving nature from. Before they left Alice had taken her aside and asked her one thing. " Take care of my boy dear" she knew how Rebecca felt and that she didn't have much longer before she would join her own beloved Richard who had died just before her son set out on the canals of Birmingham.

Over the years that followed Rebecca visited the Holtoms whenever she was able although Richard traveled further abroad with his regiment being posted to India for the latter half of his twelve years service. Life in India changed him she recalled, never one for drink previously Richard soon found himself up on charges for being under its influence. It was the only way to combat the boredom he had later told her, that and gambling were the only way to get through the endless days of sameness and tedium. After Egypt he had some back to England a hero, but then when his taste for battle had been ignited he was sent to India, where there was no conflict. He wasn't the only one to turn to drink to get through his days. Eventually he was posted back to England to serve his last few years, and at last they were together. Rebecca smiled when she thought of how she had shown caution to the wind and had despite her sister Ruth's warnings encouraged his advances.

Unfortunately she had fallen pregnant with Rose a year before Richards service was through and as much as he wanted to he couldn't marry her. For most young women, in the family way, by an enlisted soldier with no family to help her it would have been a short walk to the work house. However Rebecca wasn't most women and used to taking care of herself, so she found lodgings in a different street, close by to her Sister Ruth and reinvented herself as a young widow. Rosetta Williamson was born healthy and beautiful she recalled and it wasn't long before she was carried in Rebecca's handcart as she made her daily rounds. Ruth hadn't believed Richard would marry her, nether had her mother, but Rebecca knew better and as soon as he was able a year later he made an honest woman of her. A slight smile played on Rebecca's face as she recalled her sisters face when she asked her and her husband to be witnesses. Richard adored Rose as they called her, Rosetta being a bit unusual. Rebecca had always loved the name Rosetta, it was the name of Richards brother Charles sister in law, who she had met when they traveled to stay with the family in Plymouth. Charles had joined the Royal Marines but was now invalided out and had returned to Sibford and become a baker. His wife's family were farmers from Plymouth and she and Richard had visited the family when they lived there. Rosetta had always seemed so vital and so alive that Rebecca hadn't been able to resist giving the name to her daughter despite how out of place it seemed in the backstreets of Birmingham. Rose entered the kitchen now and Rebecca's face opened up into a smile at the sight of her eldest daughter. Quickly she made use of the clean pinny and wiped the residue of tears from her weather beaten face. Rose however had noticed her sadness, Rose she realized always noticed everything, may-bee she took after Alice the way she seemed to know what you were thinking Rebecca mused.

"That tea must be cold by now Mam," Rose chided. She took the cup and filled the kettle in a matter of moments. "Look at you, daydreaming in here while there's tea to be got" She started to get the evening meal in readiness, bustling around the kitchen with undue haste, most of it was already done she knew but she didn't like her mother drifting back into the sadness of the past. She knew that look of old, and the tears on her beloved mams apron along with the photo eskrew on the mantel left her to draw the conclusion that Rebecca was thinking about their Dad.

"Being mordlin never did anyone any good" was Roses mantra and she did her best to bring her mam back to the present, helping her to her feet and telling her she was off to set the table while Rebecca put the mutton stew on the grate to warm. Rose's intrusion into her thoughts did it's trick and Rebecca was kept busy for the rest of the evening. The house was full that night, all the children were there, plus Harry was seeing a lovely girl from the next street called Molly and she had been invited along with Aida's new young man Albert whom she was totally smitten with. Rebecca hoped he felt the same way, she was well aware that Aida took after her in looks and as a result Albert was her first real boyfriend. He was a very serious young man but very presentable and she knew that Aida was hoping he would pop the question soon. As much as Rebecca wished that Aida would wait and have a little more fun before settling down she realized that girls like Aida didn't get many chances and knew that she would be wise to grab the bull by the horns should the question be popped. The two young couples were off to the picture house after tea to see a new horror film called Frankenstein and there was much discussion during the meal as to the merits of the new street cinema, how ornate the furnishings were and which of its two cafes they should get refreshments from during the interval.

It wasn't until much later when the youngsters had left along with William who was meeting a friend at the local for a drink, and Rose and Walter had made for the front room to listen to a show on the wireless that Rebecca was left alone with her thoughts again. She smiled as she recalled William's discomfiture as she had asked who he was meeting that evening. Rose had already told her that she had seen him last week with a young lady that lived next to Roses best friend Mary in Richard street. Clara something she said, Clara Tonks that was it, her father used to work with Mary's as he was a gunsmith. A presentable girl, very pretty, the mother was from a good family and always kept herself apart from everyone else almost as if she looked down on everyone. Rebecca smiled she hadn't said anything to Rose and she certainly wouldn't to William but there was hardly a family in Aston that she didn't know of or couldn't find out about. Hadn't she walked the Birmingham streets since she was a child chatting to people, and they told her things none else knew, knowing that Rebecca told none else. She knew all about the Tonk's alright, and why Sarah held her nose so high in the air, still it was none of her business as long as she treated her William right. She stretched out her poor aching legs, trying to alleviate the pains that shot through them whenever she sat for a long period of time, walking the streets for so many years had taken its toll on her poor old body. Automatically her eyes rested on the small wooden box on the mantel next to Richards photo. Not much longer my love she crooned gazing at the familiar beloved face. The box contained papers that William had sorted out for her a few months back when she had had a bad spell of bronchitis and didn't think she would come out of it. They were her greatest comfort, deeds to a plot in Witton Cemerty which was just a little way from Richard. Not that many would every know, as having no money for a proper burial they had laid him in a paupers grave, with many others buried beneath and on top. It had broken her heart that she had no grave to visit, no place to leave flowers. William knowing how she felt had done this for her, he had made sure that when she went she knew where she would be laid and that it would be close to Richard. He was a good boy her William, a deep boy and with a temper as quick as the devil but William cared deeply for his family and did everything in his power to make it right for them. God help you Clara, you better look after my boy, she muttered to herself feeling history shift through the mists of time. Back to a time when a wise woman asked a young girl "take care of my Boy" Rebecca reached up and pulled the old worn picture down from it's place placing it on her chest. "They's doin' well Richard," she told him in her broad Birmingham tones," you'd be so proud...... the boys are growin' so much, young Walters the spit of you, Rose is just like your Mam an our Aida, I can see Jane in our Aida, she stands just the same way......We're on the up now the Holtoms, even had our portrates done". Rebecca smiled, and in the heat of the fire she drifted off to sleep, to walk with Richard in her dreams. Beside her on the battered kitchen table lay the evening post and mail. The year read 1910 and as she slept it was good that her dreams were of the past for little did Rebecca know what lay in all their futures just four years ahead.