Baby on a Barge

By P.A. Fenning

Based on true facts, this story relates the many varied events affecting Amy Brown during the years 1970 – 1973.
Amy reaches a major crossroads in her life as she embarks on a whirlwind romance leading to an impetuous marriage which does not meet with her mother’s approval.
A barge appears to offer an idyllic lifestyle for the newly weds but in reality is far from ideal, having it’s own unique problems and proves to be unsuitable for the baby Amy is expecting.
She is faced with many dilemmas exacerbated by her jealous, wayward husband.
Will her mother’s dire forebodings prove to be correct?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781698709499

P.A. Fenning

After my marriage I lived on a barge on the River Medway until my son arrived. Later, after I was divorced, I worked for many years in Kent as a supervisor in a computer department until the firm closed. I then ran a pet shop and garden centre before moving to rural Norfolk and setting up a breeding cattery specialising in Persians. In retirement I moved to the coast and lived next door to the lighthouse with panoramic sea views. I then met an ex-boyfriend from back in 1969 and now enjoy life in a quiet village with my husband and our cocker spaniel.

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Copyright 2021 P. A. Fenning.

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ISBN: 978-1-6987-0950-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0949-9 (e)

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1     A Dodgy Romance

Chapter 2     A Very Dodgy Wedding

Chapter 3     Motor Barge MN

Chapter 4     Grottles in The Bilge

Chapter 5     Puppy Overboard

Chapter 6     Fire Down Below

Chapter 7     The Confession

Chapter 8     A Baby is Born

Chapter 9     New House, New Job

Chapter 10   A Shoestring Existence

Chapter 11   A Violent Conflict

Chapter 12   Trouble Brewing

I

would like to dedicate this book to my son

who helped to keep me on track when

my life was in turmoil.

Introduction

This fifth book takes another peek into the highs and lows of Amy Brown’s life, relating actual events that occurred between 1970 and 1973.

Now in her early twenties, Amy arrives at a major crossroad in her life when a whirlwind romance leads to an impulsive marriage against her mother’s wishes.

An opportunity comes for them to live on a barge which promises an idyllic lifestyle but the reality turns out to be quite different as the barge reveals its own unique problems. Amy tolerates the various setbacks that come her way, exacerbated by her jealous, wayward husband. She is determined to make her marriage work regardless of her mother’s dire forebodings.

All the characters in this book are based on real people but names have been changed to protect their identity.

ONE

A Dodgy Romance

Amy stared at her badly grazed and bleeding knees jammed up against the dashboard of the Mini. She had drawn her knees up as an instinctive reaction to the imminent impact. Now she sat there in a state of shock after the crash, her mind in a whirl.

The touring holiday around the Cornish coastline in the summer of 1969 had been going well up to this point. She was a passenger in her boyfriend, Nick’s Mini. His older brother, Sid, was following behind in his MG Midget with his girlfriend. Driving along a fairly narrow typical Cornish road with a high stone wall running along the nearside and a coach heading towards them, Amy could see there wasn’t enough room to pass. She expected Nick to stop but instead he suddenly accelerated and tried to squeeze past the coach, no doubt hoping the stone wall would somehow make room for him because the coach had already moved over as far as it could go. There came the inevitable sound of metal crunching on stone as the Mini was brought to an abrupt halt.

Once over the initial shock, Amy had a clear vision of what she must do. She’d had enough of risking her life in other people’s hands. ‘I must start taking control of my life. If I’m going to have an accident or even die in a car crash, then it must be me behind the steering wheel,’ she thought with conviction, ‘then it will be my fault – I’ll be the one to blame and no-one else. Therefore I must learn to drive!’

Once back home after the holiday, Amy reminded herself that she must book up for driving lessons so she could take her driving test and have her own car. But it was autumn before she finally put her intention into action.

Amy’s first lesson with a local driving school was one weekday evening after she had arrived home from work. A middle-aged man called for her with a Triumph 1300 which had dual controls. She liked the way the bonnet lifted up to tell her that first gear was engaged and she was about to move off. After a couple of lessons she progressed to starting on a hill. The driving instructor directed her to a dark lane on a steep incline and asked her to park. But instead of getting her to try a hill start, he was more interested in chatting with his hand drifting across to her knee. Too late, she regretted wearing the mini skirt.

Amy felt uneasy with his unwanted attentions so she brushed his hand away and put the car into first gear. She executed the hill start perfectly first time with no rolling backwards and was relieved to get through the rest of the lesson with no further pawing from her instructor.

Afterwards she wondered whether she ought to report him to his boss, then decided against it. She wasn’t looking forward to her next lesson but when it arrived she was surprised and relieved to see the boss of the driving school standing at her door with a Ford Escort for her to drive. He merely said that the other man had left the company. Amy wondered whether she wasn’t the only pupil to have received his unwanted attentions, and someone had complained.

The boss was a very pleasant, bald-headed man who made Amy feel at ease. She soon adjusted to driving the Escort despite the bonnet not rising up as she engaged first gear. She was pleased that the car had been thoughtfully given a red spot in the back window to line up with the kerb, making it easier when she practised reversing round a corner.

Her instructor was delighted with her progress so he decided to give her some experience of driving on a motorway ready for when she had passed her test. He directed her onto the busy A2 with three lanes in each direction which was very similar to driving on a motorway. He told Amy to move out into the middle lane to overtake, which she managed to do but with her stomach in knots and her hands gripping the wheel tightly. This was her first experience of driving in heavy traffic and it made her nervous but after a while she relaxed a little and began to enjoy driving at the faster speed.

The big day arrived when Amy had to take her driving test. Her instructor was confident she had reached the required level to pass whereas Amy felt she was far from ready.

The test proceeded fairly well. First was the eyesight test and Amy could read the number plate on a car parked further along the road with no difficulty. Once in the car and driving with the examiner sat next to her, Amy managed a tricky right turn into a very busy main road. She slowed down to check each and every side road she passed as her instructor had shown her, and accomplished the emergency stop with such force that the examiner’s clip board went flying out of his hand. They eventually arrived back at the test centre where there just remained the questions on the Highway Code to be answered but the examiner chose questions that Amy hadn’t revised very well. She ummed and aahed until the examiner suggested an answer.

Oh, yes, that’s what I was trying to think of, Amy said, hoping she sounded convincing.

Despite her poor performance with the Highway Code questions, the examiner announced that her driving ability was good enough to pass. Amy could hardly believe it when he handed her the pink pass slip. She rushed over to her waiting instructor waving it at him excitedly. He simply congratulated her and, showing no confidence in her driving ability now that she had passed her test, he insisted on her returning home as a passenger. Amy couldn’t help feeling a little disgruntled at his change of attitude.

This is the normal procedure, he assured her, you can relax now that you’ve passed the test and let me do the driving.

Mr Brown was proud of his daughter’s achievement and offered to help her look for a suitable car. One evening he arrived home from work and told Amy of a workmate who was selling his Simca car.

I’ve seen his car – it’s a nice little silver and blue model; a French make but very reliable. I think it’s worth us taking a look at it, he told her.

Amy had never heard of a Simca but agreed to go and see it as her dad seemed so keen. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw the clean neat-looking car the following evening. Her dad had driven her over to his workmate’s house to check it out and take it for a brief test drive. She felt uncomfortable driving a car she was unfamiliar with. Then she discovered that second gear had lost its synchromesh so she had to double declutch when changing down, something her instructor had neglected to teach her. She came home feeling somewhat dubious about driving a car that didn’t have a smooth gear change but her dad assured her that it wasn’t important and she would soon get the hang of double declutching.

Still keen for Amy to have the Simca, Mr Brown offered to pay towards the cost of the car plus the insurance. Pleased with her dad’s generous offer, she pushed her reservations aside and was happy to own the Simca. With all the paperwork sorted out, Mr Brown arrived home from work a few evenings later in Amy’s Simca. She liked to sit in it but felt reluctant to actually drive it, and so it remained parked by the kerb next to the green opposite her house.

One evening Mrs Brown wanted to speak to Ray, Amy’s younger brother. He spent most of his evenings hanging around the blocks of garages that had been built at the end of the back gardens. He and his mates were usually gathered near Nick’s garage, watching and sometimes helping with the ongoing work needed to keep Nick’s Mini on the road, and if it wasn’t Nick’s Mini then it was someone else’s car.

Amy and Nick had split up after the Cornish holiday, but living so near each other, they couldn’t avoid meeting occasionally. She found herself dispatched in search of Ray to tell him he was wanted back at home. Her back garden had direct access to the other garages through her dad’s garage so it didn’t take her long to walk round to Nick’s garage, or to be more accurate, his dad’s garage which Nick monopolised. The usual crowd of Nick’s mates were there, including Ray.

Then Amy spotted her ex-boyfriend, Tom, sliding his long legs into his red Sprite sports car before driving off. Seeing him revived memories of the summer when she had enjoyed warm sunny days being driven around in his car with the top down and her long hair whipping around his roll bar. Days out at his favourite resort of Rye and nearby Camber Sands. But then it all went wrong at a birthday party he took her to one Saturday night when he left her to fend for herself while he disappeared into another room to chat to some mates.

Feeling annoyed by his casual manner, she had glanced around the room and spotted Nick slumped in a chair looking bored so she had gone over and sat on the arm of his chair for a chat. He was also fed up because the girl he had brought to the party was now dancing with someone else. He suggested they leave and go down to the coast in his Mini which Amy was happy to do. She didn’t enjoy parties very much and was still feeling pissed off with the way Tom had neglected her.

This impromptu trip, which ended up at another party in a cellar in Dover, had led to her and Nick’s Cornish holiday together shared with his brother, Sid, and his girlfriend.

Amy had seen Tom one more time a week after the party when Nick took her to a twenty four hour race meeting where the night stages were taking place. After parking his Mini, Nick had wandered off while Amy remained in the car.

Tom, dressed in full racing overalls, was waiting his turn to participate in these stages with Sid as his navigator, when he noticed Amy so came over and squatted down beside the car for a chat through the window. They both avoided mentioning the birthday party and then Tom tactfully left when he saw Nick returning.

Now, as Amy watched Tom’s car vanishing round the corner, she pushed these memories to the back of her mind and passed on the message to Ray that he was wanted at home. As she turned to go she recognised Mick coming round a nearby corner to join the others. He tended to be the joker in the pack and was obviously back home on leave from his duties with the army in Northern Ireland. He had brought along another of his mates, Stuart, who he introduced to Amy. She hadn’t seen him there before but she was instantly attracted to his friendly smile of even white teeth, neat light brown hair and trimmed beard.

They started chatting and Stuart confessed that this wasn’t really his scene. I find it a tad boring watching a car being tinkered with, he admitted and gave a shiver. It’s a bit chilly standing around here. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a nice hot cup of coffee? He gave Amy a winning smile that she found hard to resist.

Come round through our garage a little later and knock on the back door – you too Mick, she said as she walked away.

After about half an hour, as Amy was making coffee in the kitchen, a knock on the back door announced the arrival of Stuart and Mick. The cold February evening had chilled them to the bone. They came in shivering so Amy gave them a mug of coffee each and brought a couple of chairs into the kitchen from the dining room next door so they could sit down.

I was about to make myself a bacon sandwich, she said, no doubt you two are feeling hungry. Their eyes lit up at the mention of food.

That sounds smashing, Mick said, just what we need – thanks.

Amy set to work grilling the bacon and buttering the bread.

It’s tastier with a little white pepper sprinkled on the rashers as they cook, Mick told Amy. Just a tip I picked up in the army.

She smiled and got the pepper from the larder. After making the sandwiches she passed the boys the ketchup for them to add themselves. Amy sat on the only kitchen chair and chatted as they enjoyed their snack. Being in the army, Mick had many humorous anecdotes to relate which kept Amy amused.

These evening meetings in the kitchen for coffee and bacon sandwiches became a fairly regular occurrence and when Mick had to return to his regiment in Northern Ireland at the end of his leave, Stuart still came knocking in the evening on his own.

One evening Amy mentioned to Stuart her reluctance to drive her Simca now that she had passed her test.

If you don’t fancy driving it on your own, I could accompany you if that would help to give you a bit more confidence, he offered.

Amy appreciated his gesture. Yes, I think having someone beside me would help to boost my self-confidence. I need to get a lot more driving experience.

Well, there’s no time like the present, so let’s go!

What, now? Amy gasped in surprise.

Stuart grinned. Yes, before you have time to think of an excuse.

Amy shrugged. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll get my purse and car keys.

Once in the car, she nervously started the engine and slowly drove down the road. Stuart tried giving her some encouragement until she gradually relaxed and speeded up a little.

He admired how well she drove which made Amy want to demonstrate her newly acquired driving skills even more. They eventually arrived at a town about ten miles away.

I think I’d better get some petrol else I’ll run out before we get back home, Amy said glancing at the petrol gauge. I’ve never put petrol in a car before. She drove onto the forecourt of the next petrol station and parked beside the pumps, then Stuart got out and showed her what to do.

I’m really glad you’re here because I’m sure I’d have made a right pig’s ear of filling up the tank, she told him. At least I remembered to bring my purse.

With the tank full of petrol they set off on the return trip back to Amy’s house. Indoors she made coffee and took Stuart through to the lounge as her parents had gone to bed.

It’s a bit more comfortable in here, she said sitting on the sofa. Stuart sat down beside her and the conversation flowed easily. Amy wasn’t quite sure how the tickling started, probably with a playful poke in her side but it became a full-blown tickling session. Amy squealed with laughter and tried to fend off Stuart’s fingers. They ended up writhing around on the floor with Amy screaming from the relentless tickling. Only when her dad gave a bang on the bedroom floor above them, did Stuart stop.

Look what you’ve done, Amy remonstrated, you’ve been and woken up my father now.

Stuart laughed. You were the one making all the noise.

Yes, and it was all your fault!

Stuart suddenly drew Amy towards him and gave her a kiss.

Now you’ve gone and ruined a perfectly good platonic relationship, she said pretending to be annoyed but nevertheless pleased that they were becoming more than just friends because she found Stuart quite attractive and good fun to be with.

There was little sign of Spring as March arrived like a lion: Chilly with rain and snow forecast. The bad weather the following week didn’t deter Stuart from inviting Amy out to a Chinese restaurant. Over their meal they got to know more about each other. Stuart lived on a nearby estate with his parents and younger sister, Stella. He told Amy about his job at the local paper mill which he disliked a lot and intended to leave pretty soon.

He reminisced about happier times; of childhood holidays spent at Bideford in Devon. That’s where I’d love to go back to and perhaps live one day.

If that is what you want then you should do it, Amy said earnestly, I went through Devon last summer on my way to Cornwall with Nick. It’s a beautiful county, very green and lush – not as rugged as Cornwall. I can understand why you love it so much.

Stuart hesitated momentarily and then dropped a bombshell. Since you are obviously so keen on Devon too, how about we go down there and look for a flat? he blurted out.

Amy was lost for words. Stuart’s suggestion had come out of the blue but his enthusiasm was infectious because, when she did find her voice, she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly.

We could go this weekend in the Simca, Stuart said, that would give you plenty of driving practise. Then he thought of a snag. I don’t have much money so I wouldn’t be able to afford for us to stay in a hotel overnight.

That’s not a problem, Amy said, I’ll just bring Ray’s scout tent. It’s small but OK so long as it doesn’t rain. Ray’s scout tent had been put to good use when she had gone camping in Cornwall with Nick last year and also the year before when she and her then boyfriend, Ralph, had camped in Switzerland, Italy and Wales.

The weather had improved and looked quite promising Saturday morning as Amy packed the tent into the car plus some food for the journey. She was just finishing as Stuart arrived so they set off without delay on the leisurely trip down to Devon, filled with excitement and anticipation. Amy noticed that when Stuart got excited, his nose whistled which he was quite embarrassed about, whereas Amy found his idiosyncrasy rather beguiling and also amusing.

Amy was getting accustomed to driving the Simca with its little foibles but she still missed the smooth, easy driving she had experienced in the Escort. They broke the journey up by stopping for snacks and drinks but by late afternoon Amy felt she had done enough driving so they searched for somewhere to camp overnight.

They had reached Somerset, known as cider country, and with so many apple orchards around, they opted to camp in one. They drove along until Stuart spotted a gate propped open which led into an orchard next to the road so he told Amy to turn in. She drove slowly between the trees until they reached a small clearing large enough to erect the tent. They wasted no time in putting the tent up but then Amy discovered, to her utter dismay, that she had forgotten to pack the tent pegs so there was no way of pegging the tent down securely.

We need something to use as a substitute, Stuart said rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

We’re just outside a village – maybe there’s a shop which will have something suitable, Amy suggested.

They left everything and walked along the road into the village. It was getting late, dusk was falling and any shop would soon be closing. The only shop in the village was the Post Office stores. Inside they hunted in vain for anything that would peg a tent down on the ground. Finally Amy looked at a tub on the end of the counter which contained ballpoint pens.

Do you think they would do the job? she asked Stuart dubiously, picking one up and examining it.

I doubt it, Stuart replied bluntly, but there isn’t anything else remotely suitable so we might as well try. They bought some more food plus ten pens, explaining to the bemused postmistress what they were wanted for. She smiled and shook her head pityingly as they headed out the door and back to the orchard. The pens were far from ideal but they did hold the tent down reasonably well.

Camping was a new experience for Stuart who liked his creature comforts but he thoroughly enjoyed being initiated into it by Amy.

They packed the tent away next morning and discarded the now useless pens. Then the next problem reared its ugly head. Overnight the wheels of the Simca had gradually sunk into the boggy ground, and now, as Amy tried to drive off, they just spun in the mud.

They both got out of the car. We need to put something under the wheels so they’ll grip, Stuart said casting about the orchard. He wandered off amongst the trees and returned with an armful of twigs and dead branches. This is all I could find but they might do, he said shoving them in front of the wheels.

Somehow Amy ended up at the rear of the car pushing and trying to avoid being splattered with mud while Stuart revved the engine and attempted to coax the car out of the deep ruts it had made in the boggy ground. The wheels gradually gained purchase on the twigs and then the car lurched forward leaving Amy floundering face down on the muddy ground. Stuart jumped out of the car and helped her up. She was not best pleased as he carefully wiped the mud off her with a cloth he found in the car.

Amy felt she needed a break from driving so she let Stuart take over. By late morning they had arrived at their destination of Bideford with the beautiful old bridge spanning the river Torridge. They parked up and walked along beside the river.

It would be great to live around here, Stuart enthused, and much more healthier for us. Amy