The author was brought up in Derbyshire and educated at Shirebrook Grammar School.

She then went on to do her teacher training at Lincoln College and after teaching in various areas of the country spent almost twenty years as head of year in the East End of London at Little lford Comprehensive. Sheila now lives in lford.

DUNFILLAN

!or my beloved sons" Graham" #ohn" Sheaton" $lan" %ichard.

Sheila McMillan

DUNFILLAN

Copyright Sheila &c&illan The right of Sheila &c&illan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section '' and '( of the Copyright" Designs and )atents $ct *+((. $ll rights reserved. ,o part of this publication may be reproduced" stored in a retrieval system" or transmitted in any form or by any means" electronic" mechanical" photocopying" recording" or otherwise" without the prior permission of the publishers. $ny person who commits any unauthori-ed act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. $ C ) catalogue record for this title is available from the .ritish Library. S., +'( *(/+01 /23 4 www.austinmacauley.com !irst )ublished 523*/6 $ustin &acauley )ublishers Ltd. 24 Canada S7uare Canary 8harf London E*/ 4L.

)rinted and bound in Great .ritain

Chapter 1
The Beginning

8hen we arrive on this earth from our mothers9 wombs" we have had no choice in the matter. :ur beginnings have already been mapped out by others; our parents and grandparents and forefathers have all had an impact. Two people" our mother and our father" have had a se<ual liaison in which we were conceived. $ppro<imately nine months later we appear" having had the decision made for us. There are no rights of selection for babies. :nly in adulthood can we re=ect or alter the course of our lives if we wish. $t the time of our birth" there are no alternatives. 8e must consent to our origins; we are helpless. Thus it was decreed by a se<ual act. 8anted or unwanted" loved or unloved" planned or unplanned" we appear as a result of the actions of others. $ccordingly " Sheila $nne Smeaton" started life at Dunfillan" %otherham %oad" Clowne" a tiny village in north> east Derbyshire" cradled in my mother9s arms. never did discover how we travelled there from the place of my birth" .urton>on>Trent" in Staffordshire" some fifty miles away" but somehow we did arrive at our destination in &arch *+/3. !rom the very beginning" felt we were outsiders" not part of the village of Clowne. &other and !ather failed to identify with the people and could not integrate" however hard they tried. !ather had been working in the area for over a year" having moved from Scotland in *+1(" but &other was a complete stranger to the village and its people. :ur family seemed unlike any other in Clowne; we were isolated" apart from the patterns of behaviour of the inhabitants of the village.

:f course" was 7uite unaware of these differences" as it dawned on me that Dunfillan was home; home" that magical word for all youngsters" that should signify security" safety" and a refuge from the vicissitudes of the outside world. The familiar surroundings of Dunfillan gradually became apparent to me as grew older" with the succeeding weeks and months. This was my first world. There were two rooms downstairs" the living kitchen and the front room" also known as the ?best9 room. The kitchen was a functional" austere space with a black>leaded fireplace and ovens at the far end. $t either end was a white sink" and in the farthest corner" a built> in cupboard. n the middle of the room was a bare" scrubbed wooden table with four brown chairs placed neatly around it. @nlike other households would visit later" only at mealtimes was anything placed on the table" e<cept of course when mother was cooking. !ather had the prime spot with his big armchair. 8e always boasted it was a )arker Anoll" but all saw was a high> backed winged chair covered with leatherette" positioned at a slight angle towards the fire. Bere he sat" contentedly smoking his pipe. :n the wall" within arms9 reach" he had marked his pipe rack. f he fancied a change of pipe" he would stretch over and select another. ,o one interfered with the pipe rack he had brought from Scotland; woe betide them if they did. &other9s small armchair was placed behind the door. t had a stick at the back with a series of grooves to keep the back in place. :n a cold winter night" she would draw the chair closer towards the fire. The sink in the corner had hot and cold water taps" 7uite an innovation in *+/3. @nderneath was a small gas copper boiler. Every &onday" this was pulled out from behind the curtain under the sink" and lit underneath from the weekly washing. $ small mangle stood between the small armchair and the sink. Long before the advent of washing machines in working class homes" most houses had a mangle. :urs had smaller rollers than some other homes" but the rubber cylinders seemed to press out the water efficiently. $t least &other was content if &onday was a dry day.

The walls always seemed to be painted green" and on the wooden floor was a huge coconut matting rug in front of the fire. .obby the budgie was in his cage at the door which led into the hall. !ood was kept in the tiny pantry on the right as one entered the kitchen. $ wireless standing on the windowsill completed the picture. $t night the red gingham curtains were drawn across. &other and !ather were shut away from the outside world and the war raging in faraway lands. Down the small hall leading off to the left was the sitting room. t wasn9t particularly grand" or with lavish furnishings" but mother was proud of her best room. There was a piece of green carpet in the centre of the room" not fitted" but the room was edged with wooden flooring" which !ather seemed to be forever painting. &other had her previous bookcase in the corner by the modern fireplace. Bere were stored her volumes of Shakespeare" Dickens C how she loved Charles Dickens C and other classical worldly writers. $ three>tiered chest of drawers was placed on the longest wall" and a brown three> piece in mo7uette suite completed the furnishings in the room. :ften we were reliably informed that the chest was Dueen $nne C wonder. ,o such anti7ues were present at Dunfillan" %otherham %oad. $ll the furniture was serviceable" and no piece was ornamental. ,o pictures or paintings adorned the walls. Everything had its use and place" and &other always had a tale to tell about each individual book or dish. EThe mantel clock was given to me by the girls at work as a wedding present"F &other told us. EThat blue dish was from &rs &itten" your Gran9s friend.F Everything was meaningful" not to be touched. The stairs led up to the three bedrooms from the front door. Two of the bedrooms were si-eable" and the third was a bo< room. &y recollections of this small +<' foot room were of safety and security. Bere was the cot" first for my use" then for my sister #ean. 8hen she came along" was transferred to the back room and the three>7uarter bed. :f course" &other and !ather had the front room" with the big double bed. Divided between the two biggest bedrooms was the utility oak four>piece bedroom suite. &other had the dressing table

located in the bay window. Decorating the dressing table was &other9s collection of mock tortoiseshell brushes and combs. &other had ac7uired these piece by piece when she was single. loved to feel the semi>previous brown inlaid surface. n the lower drawer of the dressing table" wrapped in tissue paper" was &other9s red velvet wedding dress. would often creep into the room and look at it. She preserved it there until the day she died. !ather had the tallboy. The bottom half of this served as the medicine cabinet. :n the top was a photo of &other and !ather" taken when they were courting. &other was so slim" so happy. Bow 7uickly she seemed to change in a few short months. ,ot that ever recalled her being unhappy" =ust pensive as they years went by. :f course" the parental bedroom was a sanctuary for them. #ean and rarely entered the big room. 8hatever went on in there was not for little eyes and ears. Gears later" when was old enough to take a =oke" she told me that one day early in the marriage" as she was blissfully ga-ing at the ceiling" she noticed a nail hanging from above. E8hat9s that nail for" CharlieHF she en7uired with all innocence. E t9s to hang your fucking balls on. 8hat do you thinkHF $ny illusions she had about the man she had married disappeared there and then. 8hen bruises appeared on her legs" asked" E8here have those come from" &ummyHF E:h your father kicks me in his sleep when tell him to stop snoring.F still wonder. never saw !ather hit &other" but all same" did heH The only other room in the little semi>detached was an upstairs bathroom" all black and white tiles" and a clean white bathroom suite with a built>in airing cupboard. &other thought herself so fortunate to have such a desirable residence in one of the better districts of Clowne. The interior of Dunfillan was my first world" but of course as grew older" my hori-ons stretched beyond these four walls.

There were two gardens to e<plore" front and rear. n the left> hand corner" situated by the front gate" was a purple lilac tree" which &other planted when she arrived. never did learn the significance of the tree" but &other cherished it always. She would comment on the buds in spring and be in raptures when the purple lilac blossoms appeared. Complementing the pale lilac colour of the blossoms were the deep purple primroses lining the path from the front gate to the back garden. :n the front gate in brass letters was written ?Dunfillan9. would learn later that they had named the house after the hotel where they had met in *+1' in Dunoon" Scotland. n the back garden" where played games of fantasy and make believe" was a large garden shed>cum>chicken house. Bere found refuge" and a den in later years. .ut in the early days of the war" &other kept chickens to supplement the egg ration. !ather had a small vegetable patch in the back garden" where he grew seedlings before transplanting them to the allotment on .arlborough %oad. 8ithin fifteen months" we were =oined at Dunfillan by my sister" #ean. n fact" never did recall being an ?only one9. #ean was always there" part of the family. She was born at Chesterfield Bospital. 8hilst mother was away" went to stay with my maternal grandmother who lived in .urton>on>Trent" a town fifty miles away. During that time" a bond was established between granddaughter and grandmother. would always be Gran9s favourite" well into my teenage years. @pon my return" we settled down as a family unit" the four Smeatons of Dunfillan. The Second 8orld 8ar" which raged over the ne<t five years" was part of another e<istence. $part from food shortages" the war did not encroach upon Dunfillan. There were no bombs dropped on sleepy little Clowne" although a stray one did e<plode in .arlborough )ark two miles away" but the German bombs were for industrial Sheffield.

Chapter 2
Mother and Father

$s with other children" the events which had led to my birth had occurred some years before. 8hen grew older" the background facts became known to me. :ver the succeeding months" became aware of how we all came to live in Clowne. &other met !ather whilst on holiday in Scotland in *+1'" but she was not Scottish C she came from .urton>on>Trent in Staffordshire" where she lived with her widowed mother and half>brother 8illiam. Elsie $gnes $shby" my mother" was born on the 2+ th of ,ovember *+*1" on the Earl of ,orthampton9s estate in Castle $shby" a tiny village near ,orthampton. She was the only child of $gnes and !rank $shby. !rank was the head gardener on the estate" and $gnes had been a housemaid in the large sprawling house until their marriage in *+*3. E t was a love match" Sheila"F $gnes would say. EGour mummy was not e<pected to live. had such a hard time. Bow we loved that little girl. The midwife was all for saving me. They =ust wrapped Elsie up and put her on the hearth. Someone in the room heard the tiny infant9s cry and rushed to the hearth to revive her.F Elsie prospered and grew up a healthy" sturdy little girl" adored by her doting parents. !rom a mere four pounds in weight at birth" Elsie developed into a delightful child. The family lived in a tied cottage on the Earl9s estate. !rank was a devoted husband and father. E n fact" Sheila" never remember his raising his voice to me" or Elsie" your mummy.F

Mother and Father, 1938

Sheila, !ran and "ean, 19#8

Mother

Father

&other9s memories of early childhood were of happy and contented hours spent with an adoring father and mother" an only child to roam in the vast acreage of Castle $shby. Sadly" when Elsie was five" life changed. n *+*+" without warning" 7uite suddenly" !rank died. Be was only twenty nine years old. $gnes would always swear !rank was the only man she ever loved. Be was buried in the tiny churchyard at Castle $shby; his grave was to become a place of pilgrimage over the years for Gran and her daughter. Life was cruel in those days for $gnes and her small daughter. .ecause the cottage was ?tied9 to the estate" they were given a month9s notice to leave. Their few pieces of furniture were sold. E had to find another domestic position one that would accommodate us both. Gou see" had to support Elsie. had no paper 7ualifications" =ust references from previous employers.F n *+*+" England boasted many large estates where young women were employed as housemaids and made to work at other menial tasks. $gnes was not afraid of hard work C after all" she9d left school at twelve" and had been in regular employment since. Eventually" $gnes found a position as parlour maid in Lord Gretton9s house on the sle of 8ight. Be was part owner of the large" well>established brewery firm .ass %atcliffe and Gretton" whose head7uarters were in .urton>on>Trent" Staffordshire. Gears later $gnes" my grandmother" would relate the story of !rank" my grandfather" and his last words to her as he lay dying. EGoodbye" $gnes" look after Elsie.F ,ever again would she hear that word. ,o doubt she had romantically embellished the deathbed scene" but surely it inspired my mother Elsie to write the following poem when she was a teenager.

$!ood%&e'
$ poem written by Elsie $gnes $shby $ge *4 shall not grieve. 8hy should H !or we shall meet again. will not" cannot" say EGoodbyeF. 9Twould only mean more pain. #ust let me stand and watch you" dear Stride silently away nto the shades of Days to Come" :nto the unknown way. shall mind" ah but shall" 8hen you have gone from near me; &y heart and soul alone will tell Bow much long for thee. .ut take your path and leave me here" will not say EGoodbyeF" !or we shall meet" somewhere" sometime .eneath a =oy>rimmed sky. shall not care. 8hy should H 8here9er that meeting be" To see you face" to touch your hand 8ill be dear =oy to me. &y faith in three shall be the light To shine above the pain. will not say EGoodbyeF" beloved" !or we shall meet again.

$gnes now had to start a new life" and with Elsie to care for" there was not time to grieve. &y mother9s memories of her time spent on the sle of 8ight were of happy" carefree days. She was educated with the children of the house and others on the estate. There were never more than eight in a class. The schoolroom was in the large house. Ber e<periences of her three years as a child on the estate" seeing how the aristocracy lived" would give her illusions of grandeur that would remain with her for the rest of her life. She perceived herself as different; not for her the crowded schoolrooms of post>8orld 8ar :ne England" but the aristocratic and privileged learning environment of the noble classes. n the years spent on sle of 8ight" a uni7ue bond was formed between mother and daughter. This would last for the whole of my mother9s life. .oth became devout Christians" and their faith sustained them throughout all the trials and tribulations that lay ahead. Ber faith taught my mother to adopt a humility" a resignation that one must accept the obstacles in life with fortitude and in the face of adversity" endeavour to overcome them. &any would consider it weakness that during her marriage to my father" she did indeed follow the doctrine of honour and obedience" although her faith was sorely tested at times. n *+22" life changed again for $gnes and her daughter. $gnes met a buyer for the brewery firm" a man considerably older than $gnes. Be was a travelling salesman and lived in .urton>on>Trent" the large brewery town in the &idlands. 8ilfred Tomlinson was a widower" with four sons whom lived at home. 8hy $gnes chose to marry this much older man and take on such a burden always remained a mystery. Certainly it was not a love match. She always maintained that. &aybe $gnes felt she needed security for herself and her daughter. :r was she tired of being a servantH Sadly" she was about to replace one form of drudgery for another. :ne thing was never in doubt C $gnes would never love another man. She would be buried si<ty years later beside her first love in Castle $shby churchyard. ?Together again9 was inscribed on the tombstone.

Elsie cried when she had to leave the sle of 8ight" but she was a resilient little girl and she soon settled into the new life and routine of Shobnall %oad" .urton>on>Trent" 8ilfred Tomlinson9s house. $gnes hated the grim little terraced house" with no garden and the front door opening onto the street. The outdoor toilet was situated in the small backyard. There were also two stepsons to look after and provide for. 8ithin a year" Elsie had a half>brother 8illiam" named after his father. 8illiam now became the focus of attention for $gnes" and helped ease the drudgery of life at Shobnall %oad. ,evertheless" work remained tough" and $gnes grew old before her time. Ber beautiful raven hair turned white" but Elsie adapted 7uickly. $fter Guild Street School" she started work at fourteen in a bakery. She was a bright" eager teenager" keen to learn" and with a thirst for knowledge. EGour gran never though educating girls was important. remember asking if could have some coloured pencils like the other girls" but she said no was leaving school soon.F Sadly" Elsie left childhood behind at fourteen" with no 7ualifications.

Me(orie)
Elsie $gnes $shby 5age */6" *+2' sit again where used to sit .y the river in the plain 8here the golden swallows used to flit $nd Titania rode with her silvery train. lied on a bed of childhood9s dreams $nd drink in the dews of life n a hut by the well not a year it seems Since knew not ought of strife. .ut the sparkling river fades away $nd Titania roams no more $nd 9m back in the world of life so gay !ar from my native shore.

The poem ?&emories9 was written when Elsie was fourteen" maybe with a yearning for the sle of 8ight.

Elsie did not remain the bakery long. $fter enrolling in the local technical college" she gained 7ualifications in shorthand and typing. !rom the bakery she moved to a large department store on the high street" and then stepfather 8ilf got her a =ob in the offices of .ass" %atcliffe and Gretton. The church continued to play a large part in the lives of both $gnes and Elsie" and certainly sustained them when George" the youngest of 8ilf9s sons from his first marriage" died from tuberculosis. n *+14" 8ilf too died from the same disease. The brewery paid some compensation to $gnes" and with the money she received $gnes moved the family to Stapenhill" a small suburb of .urton. The new house was a modern semi>detached" with a large back garden. $gnes left the dreary little house on Shobnall %oad without a backward glance. During these years" Elsie had blossomed into a striking young woman with long dark brown hair" wonderful deep brown eyes" and flawless ivory skin. $gnes didn9t encourage her to have too many friends" and certainly no young men were in attendance. n the summer of *+1'" Elsie and her friend &argaret from the brewery" decided to go on holiday. This decision was to change Elsie9s life forever. They went to Dunoon on the !irth of Clyde" and booked into a hotel called Dunfillan. .oth &argaret and Elsie were shy" retiring girls" so holiday in Scotland for two weeks was indeed an adventure. Staying at the hotel was a group of young Scotsmen" friends on a golfing holiday. Charles %eside Smeaton was one of the group. :vernight friendships developed between Elsie and Charles" and &argaret and his friend Graham. The couples walked arm in arm along the seafront. Elsie9s head was in turmoil. They swapped stories" took part in the evening9s entertainments at the hotel and" when Charles had to leave at the end of his short stay" e<changed addresses. There is an old adage that ?holiday romances never last9" but this was destined to survive for over twenty five years. $fter Charles and his friend left Dunoon" the holiday for Elsie and &argaret lost some of its e<citement" but they returned to .urton and waited with anticipation. EBe won9t write" you know"F said $gnes.

EGes" think he will.F Elsie seemed sure. .ut what did she know about the dashing debonair Scotsman who had captured her heartH Be came from )reston )ans near Edinburgh" and was twenty seven years of age. Charles no longer lived at home with his parents. Be was an electrical engineer and worked in a mine near Dalkeith. @nlike Elsie" he was a keen sportsman" and played golf and rugby. Be was one of si< children" so was used to the rough and tumble of family life. $gnes was proved wrong. Charles had been captivated by the shy modest girl from .urton. 8ithin two weeks" holiday photographs arrived from Scotland" and Charles wanted to pay a visit to .urton. $fter a while" he had moved to =ob in the Derbyshire coalfield" only fifty miles from .urton. Bis intentions were 7uite clear. Be became a fre7uent visitor to 232 Stanton %oad. Elsie was infatuated. Bere was a man completely different from her church>going friends. Be was well educated and well Cread; indeed" he could 7uote reams of Shakespeare and %obert .urns. n *+1(" a year after their first meeting" Elsie went to Scotland on a second visit; what a contrast with the previous year. She was going to meet his family. Charles had a more conventional upbringing. Be was the fourth child of Charles and &argaret Smeaton. 8hen Elsie went to )reston )ans for the first time" only one of the si< children" #ean" was still living at home" aged nineteen. !rom the beginning" #ean and Elsie established a bond. She looked up to Elsie as an older sister. The other children" like Charles" were no longer at 2 East Lone. The Smeaton family was regarded in the village as good and honest. The head of the household was a church elder" unlike his son and namesake who had no religious leanings. Like many Scottish children" Charles had been to a reputable school. Be had won a scholarship to )reston Lodge" a prestigious secondary school in the area. Similarly to Elsie" he had studied at night school and gained 7ualifications in electrical engineering. ,ot for him the manual labour of a miner like his father. Charles was still a bachelor at twenty eight.

$fter her holiday" Elsie returned to .urton. E<plicit love letters were e<changed and Charles continued to pay regular visits to .urton. n one of the letters" Charles asked Elsie if he could make love to her. She was still a virgin" but readily agreed. n &ay *+1+ they became engaged. Be purchased a solitaire diamond ring. .ack in )reston )ans" Charles had a few problems. $ local girl in the village accused him of being the father of her child. The case went to court" but apparently there was no evidence. Charles" it seemed" was innocent. Bowever" to prove his innocence" money had to be borrowed. Bis father loaned him the cash. Gears later" Elsie would e<press her bitterness at having to pay the ?old man back9. E8eek after week" had to send money to the old blighter until every penny had been repaid. Be never let us off a cent.F The storm clouds of war were gathering over Europe when was conceived in the spring of *+1+. have an image of a couple deeply infatuated" making passionate love in a meadow where the spring flowers were in full bloom; daisies" cowslips and buttercups were all witness at my conception. $s a child" would wander into the fields behind *3* Stanton %oad" and let my fantasies run riot. Bowever" suspect &other became pregnant under very different" less romantic circumstances while $gnes was out shopping" and Charles and Elsie had the house to themselves for an hour. :nce Elsie realised she was pregnant" she was terrified. Bow would she break the news to her motherH t took her almost si< months to reveal the truth. ?.e good to me" dearest Charlie"9 she pleaded in a letter to her fiancI. Charles did the honourable thing" and they were married on the seventh of December *+1+ at Stapenhill )arish Church" .urton>on>Trent. ECharles %eside Smeaton" will thou take this womanH" etc.F :f course" Elsie had always wanted him since their first meeting. t was rather a sad little gathering at the parish church on that cold December day. 8illiam" Elsie9s half>brother" was best man. She wore the red velvet dress with the lace )eter )an collar. Deep down inside" $gnes felt utterly

de=ected and miserable. This was not the wedding she had hoped for; her only beloved daughter getting married to a man she hardly knew. ndeed" from the beginning" $gnes had a deep suspicion of him. ,ot one member of the Smeaton family was present. The small wedding party trooped back to *3* Stanton %oad" and afterwards Charlie returned to work at :<croft )it" situated at the far end of Clowne. Elsie lived with her mother and brother until was born on the *(th of !ebruary *+/3 at @nion Street ,ursing Bome" .urton>on> Trent. !rom the moment of my birth" $gnes adored me and vowed to give mother and daughter a home as long as they needed one. ,evertheless" the atmosphere was tense. Charlie was living fifty miles away and still in lodgings. Then" 7uite by chance" he had a stroke of luck. $ pair of new houses were to be rented on %otherham %oad in the village of Clowne" Derbyshire. ,aturally" Charlie and Elise had been refused council accommodation" as neither had resided in the village long enough. EElsie" good news. think have found a house. The first one ne<t to the police station is already taken" but we have a change of the second.F Ges C for once" he was in the right place at the right time. 8ith the Second 8orld 8ar having been declared over si< months previously" arrived with my mother" 7uite unceremoniously" at number / %otherham %oad" Clowne. !ather always maintained that he paid for a ta<i from .urton to Clowne" but he was ever prone to telling ?tall stories9. n later years" tended to believe &other9s version that we had travelled by train from .urton to Chesterfield" and then taken a ta<i to our new home. Gran" of course" had assisted &other. Dearest .urton Gran C she would forever be called by that name. ,ow she left Elsie for the first time. &y parents had already agreed that the house would be called Dunfillan; they decided to omit Castle. #ust the name of the house on the garden gate set us aside from the neighbours. 8e were odd" peculiar" and unlike the other inhabitants of the village. ,either Elsie nor Charlie were native of the area" although Charlie" in his two years in the area" had made a few

friends with other migrant Scotsmen. Like him" but for different reasons" they had moved south to the coalfields in the &idlands. Elsie" my mother" did not know a living soul. Bere she was" abandoned in alien territory" a mining village in northeast Derbyshire. Bow would she copeH There is no doubt that before she met Charles in *+1' and he moved to Clowne %oad in Stanfree in *+1(" she had never heard of the place. &uch less did she ever think that as a newly married woman with a month old child" she would start wedded life here in Clowne.