Everyone said that Uncle Arthur was a funny old sod. He was a fixture of family gatherings, where
everyone humoured his often bizarre proclamations. One of his regular pronouncements was on the
folly of ever leaving Lancashire . He was born in Blackburn , raised
in Burnley , holidayed in Blackpool and had
retired to Bury – to be near his sister.
He had not once crossed the Lancashire boundary
and he had never wanted to. Why would he
want to leave? Lancashire contained
everything a man needed. Except a wife,
it seemed. He had never married.
Arthur lived in a sheltered bungalow full of books about
gardening and wild animals. He was fond
of describing the habits of badgers to anyone who might listen. When it was time to provide Uncle Arthur with
more help, it was his niece that arranged the place in a care home. She packed away his belongings and arranged
the disposal of his furniture. She boxed
up those books that he had chosen not to take with him to the home and took
them to a charity shop. Among the books
about wetland birds she found an oddity.
This was a Guide to the Yorkshire Dales.
The niece smiled at the rogue publication, then put it to one side to
show her mother and her daughters later. They would laugh at the foreign
interloper.
The Guide was still in the niece’s bag when she went to visit
Uncle Arthur later that week. She pulled
the book out and asked him about it.
“What’s a staunch Lancastrian like you doing with a book
about Yorkshire ? You a fifth columnist?” she waved
it humorously under his nose.
He didn’t join in with the jollity. “Oh, that. It was a lady friend that I found
in the ‘60s. She used to come over on the train and visit me in Burnley every
other Saturday. But she couldn’t leave her
home in Skipton. She had ties, you
see. Her mother. She wanted me to go and live over there and
she gave me the book to try and tempt me, like. Looking back I could have done
it easily but I was too stubborn wasn’t I?
Too set in my ways, damn fool that I am.
Spent the last 50 years wondering what happened to her.”
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