Family in Need

By Antonie Johannson

Cathie and Charlotte move to a Welsh farm in the 1950s. They lead a normal, happy family lifestyle until tragedy strikes. Their world will never be the same again. They are unknowingly placed in terrible danger by their unwitting father. The girls have to grow up fast and leave their childhood behind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504994415

Antonie Johannson

Antonie Johannson was born in Lancashire in 1945. The family moved to North Wales and she was brought up on a Welsh farm. She chose nursing as a career and joined Queen Alexandra’s Royal Nursing Corps. Whilst in the army she began to write stories prompted by people and situations she encountered in her work as an army nurse. She married a soldier and has three children. Sadly her husband died young and she was left a widow at the age of forty five. A few years later she met her current partner. He is a writer also. Now she is retired she can indulge in her many pastimes, travel, gardening, spending time with the grandchildren and has a lot more time for her favourite pastime, writing.

Book preview

Chapter I

C athie and Charlotte sat by a cold fire grate weeping their hearts out. A light had gone out of their lives forever. The year was 1951 on a wet and windy September day. A figure walked slowly over to the girls and they felt someone’s arms wrap around them. They felt somewhat comforted and looked up to see their Aunt Annie crouching beside them. Where is your daddy? she enquired gently. I expect he is tending to the animals, replied Cathie sobbing. We should be helping him. She blew her nose and stood up. Come on Charlie, we had better go and find him.

Until just a few days ago The girls had been living an idyllic life with their parents on a sixty acre farm called Pant Fach in North Wales. Cathie was just eleven years old and Charlotte eight when their father had discovered this secluded, picturesque property tucked away amongst the Clwydian mountains. He had decided to sell his market garden in Lancashire and move to a healthier climate.

Arthur Seddon was a strongly built stocky man. He was forty-six years old. In his youth he had rebelled against working in the family greengrocery business and had run away to sea. He made his way to Montreal, Canada. There he bluffed his way through various jobs, finally ending up working as a lumberjack in the north. Years later he would enthral his children with hair raising stories of Indians, Eskimos and encounters with grizzly bears in his day to day survival as a Canadian backwoodsman. After ten years of living there on his own he decided to return home where he met and married Alice. They bought a market garden together on the outskirts of Liverpool and had been blessed with three children, Ralph, Catherine and Charlotte. They were a very happy family and Arthur never regretted leaving the freedom of the Canadian woods.

Charlotte was a sickly child, prone to chest infections. Every winter she would cough continuously day and night. Arthur would warm her chest with poultices which he made from flour, water and mustard, and to soothe the cough at night Charlotte would have a tin of treacle by her bed from which she could help herself to a spoonful when the coughing fits would not stop. Arthur convinced Alice that home remedies were much superior to any medicines the doctor would prescribe. I don’t trust doctors. They are all quacks, he maintained. Alice did not protest. She trusted her husband implicitly. However, the bronchitis persistently returned on a regular basis each winter so one evening Arthur and Alice sat down to discuss Charlotte’s health. The climate here is causing her weak chest and it will never clear until we can get rid of this infernal foggy environment. I agree, replied Alice. It is so low lying here, the fog seems to cling to everything. I think we should move to somewhere where the air is healthier, suggested Arthur. Yes, replied Alice. But where shall we look? Well, said Arthur, taking her hand. I have been giving it a lot of thought and if you agree I think North Wales would be most suitable. We would not be too far away from our families and Charlotte’s weak chest will surely benefit from the clean mountain air. Sounds ideal, replied Alice excitedly. When can we start looking?

Alice was a slim built lady who had been brought up in a town. She and Arthur informed the children that they would be leaving for a new life in Wales and she set about packing whilst Arthur got down to the business of selling the market garden and finding a suitable property in Wales. They soon found a buyer for their thriving market garden and one day Arthur excitedly informed his family that he had found their ideal place. You will love it Alice, he informed his wife eagerly. It is in such a pretty spot. It is in a valley surrounded by mountains. And the air feels so pure. That is what ‘Pant Fach’ means, ‘little valley.’ I can’t wait for you all to see it. There are sixty acres and the farmhouse has three bedrooms. The village is two miles away and there is a school and a bus service to the next town, ten miles away. Alice laughed. Calm down Arthur and take a breath. It sounds wonderful and if you love it so much I am sure we will too.

Although Alice was used to the rural life since marrying Arthur she struggled with the lack of modern facilities at Pant Fach. The family had fallen in love with the property on sight and Alice told herself she would soon get to grips with everyday living. The farm did not have the luxury of electricity or of mains water. Water was pumped up from a stream at the bottom of the valley, or obtained from a well if the stream dried up. For heating there were open coal fires and they had to rely on paraffin lamps for lighting. Alice had to learn to keep the lamps topped up and the wicks trimmed. Arthur bought her a Tilly lamp which ran off methylated spirits and this produced a better light for Alice to do her darning and sewing.

Arthur had decided to keep a small herd of milking cows, a bull, a few breeding sows, a boar and a working horse. He refused to purchase any sheep although they were suited to the Welsh hillsides. Brainless creatures he would mutter. Give me pigs and cattle any day. He also refused to buy a labour saving tractor. Horses have always stood me in good stead, he reasoned. We will plough the land together. And so he stocked the farm.

Life settled down into an organised routine. The girls had settled into their new school. Ralph had been conscripted into the Armed Services as soon as he had reached eighteen and had chosen the Army and had been posted to Aldershot for his basic training. Alice had got cooking down to a fine art on her new paraffin stove. It’s not much different to the gas burners only these are wicks soaked in paraffin. That’s my girl, answered Arthur good-humouredly. You would have made an ideal frontiers-woman. Nothing gets you down. He patted her arm fondly The oven takes a bit of getting used to though, she answered. I have to remember to stoke up the fire or I have no oven or hot water, but I don’t often forget these days. Well, you serve up pretty good meals. I have no complaints, said Arthur tucking into his supper. Bedtime was an altogether new experience. Having no electricity, the girls had candles to light their way to their bedroom. I feel like Wee Willie Winkie giggled Charlotte one night as they made their way upstairs. She got into bed, wriggled down beneath the freezing cold sheets and called out to her sister. Hurry up Cathie, it’s so cold. I’ll put the bottle on your side for a bit then when you are warm we can both put our feet on it. Cathie was very wary of the stone hot water bottle. I hope it doesn’t fall out of bed again and bang on the floor. It will go through the ceiling one of these nights, Cathie warned. Cathie was sat on a stool brushing her long blonde hair. Right that’s done, she said jumping into bed and drawing up the blankets around Charlotte. She took the role of elder sister quite seriously and was very protective of her frail, younger sister. Come on Charlie, let’s cuddle up and get warm. Maybe the snow will come early this year and we can go sledging down the big hill. With these happy thoughts the girls drifted off to sleep.

Arthur often saddled up Paddy, the chestnut brown shire horse, and rode up the fields to bring in the cows for milking.Just humour me, he said to Alice and the girls. I know the cows know their way to the milking parlour but I am just remembering the times I worked on a ranch in my youth. Whatever makes you happy Dad, said Cathie smiling. Her father made them smile in many ways. He had somewhat disrespectfully named the sows after the film-star beauties of the day. One rather grumpy saddle back he had named Elizabeth Taylor, another he named Betty Grable and a large white with long silky ears he named Mae West. She was his favourite. The sows appeared content and answered to their respective names. They happily produced litters to their communal husband Winston. Winston Churchill was Arthur’s hero. Alice always had to hang Winnie’s picture in a prominent position in the house as a constant reminder of what he had achieved for the country. The days were filled with hard work for all the family but the evenings were relaxing times spent playing cards, reading, knitting or listening to the radio. Supper was timed to coincide with ‘The Archers’, a popular programme based on a family who lived in a country village. The girls looked forward to another programme called ‘Journey into Space,’ which terrified them, but they compulsively glued their ears to the radio each evening to listen to the latest episode. Alice got the stationery set out once a week to write to her son. Ralph was eighteen when he had been called up to do his National Service, and had joined the Lancashire Fusiliers. He told his parents that when he had completed his two years service he would either sign on again for another few years if he liked the life, or he would come out and learn the business of farming for the future, when it was time for Arthur to retire. Give him our love, called Arthur as Alice began to write. Tell him we are thinking of him. I do miss him, sighed Alice. I am telling him all about the farm and what we are getting up to. He hasn’t even seen it yet. He will get some leave when he has finished his basic training, said Arthur smiling at Alice. I can’t wait to show him our new home, said Cathie. We can show him the special places we have found for picnics, said Charlotte joining in the conversation. I met the man from the smallholding up the lane the other day when I went to the village shop and he was telling me he had a son in the Royal Air Force. Maybe they will become friends when they come home on leave and Ralph won’t feel so isolated. It is off the beaten track for a single young man, commented Arthur. I am sure he will be only too glad to have his family around him, smiled Alice and carried on writing her letter.

Chapter II

A rthur and Alice led a very busy life on the farm. There was not a lot of time for socialising but they were very happy. There was a lot of laughter alongside the work. Arthur had met some of the neighbours on trips to the market and Alice had met some of the farmer’s wives on her shopping trips to the village. One day Arthur said to Alice, I hope you don’t mind, but I have volunteered to teach Lowrie to drive. Lowrie was the daughter of Mr and Mrs Jones from the neighbouring farm. I will take her out after milking while it is still light. Of course I don’t mind, replied Alice. It is good that we are getting involved with our neighbours."

One particular evening Arthur had driven over to the Jones’ farm. The girls and their mother had cleared away the dinner dishes and were settled down in the armchairs listening to the radio. I do have such a bad headache, complained Alice. I don’t know what has brought that on. "Perhaps you have been