FACES FROM THE PAST

It was a nice sunny day and I didn’t feel like cooking lunch so I persuaded my late husband, Mac, to come with me for a drive in the country. We were both disabled but with our adapted car and wheelchairs were mobile.

 Living in a built-up area we made for the countryside and decided to find an accessible Inn for a bar meal. It wasn’t long before I realised that the village we had reached Cow Beech in East Sussex, was near Rushlake Green where my parents had started their married life some 90 years ago. As I write this I am well into my seventies and was born in another area of East Sussex so I had only heard about my Mother and Father’s early life together.

 Mac and I went into the Merry Harriers, which we now know as my Mother and Father’s “local” and ordered some refreshments. As we sat waiting for our meal we glanced around us to see many pictures on the walls of pub regulars in the 1920’s. “ “Wouldn’t it be funny” said Mac “if your Dad was up there?”. As I waited I looked down at a place mat on the table and there looking up at me was my Father and Uncle amongst a group of Gentlemen enjoying a drink outside the very pub we were then in.

 I think this incident has to be the most memorable in my life span and cannot help thinking that fate led me there.

 I was fortunate to be able to purchase the mat from the Landlord and now have a permanent reminder of my country lunch.

THE JOURNEY

The doorbell rang shrilly on opening the door an outstretched hand offered me the familiar orange envelope that was used for telegrams in the 1970’s. I watched as the young messenger boy returned to his motor cycle and rode off.

I closed the door and stared at the missive in my hand, my husband joined me and we opened it together. The message was brief “Mother very ill suggest you come as soon as possible”. It was from Muriel my husband’s sister in Scotland and here were we some 500 miles away in East Sussex.

Both of us being disabled we decided it was not a good idea to travel all the way by train as we would need transport to get around while we were in Scotland. As I was the main driver and drove a hand controlled car we decided to compromise; we would go to Carlisle on the motor Rail and drive from there to Ayr.

A visit to the local rail booking office found space available on the Euston – Carlisle train for the following day. I packed our case and after a few hours sleep we made an early start to London to catch the 8.00am train. The car was soon loaded onto the motor-rail transporter and my Mac and I were soon settled into our reserved seats, the porter having put my wheelchair in the adjacent guards van which left me unable to move from my seat! (Rail travel for people with disabilities now has improved immensely nowadays thank goodness).

Being unable to get to the buffet car we enjoyed a packed lunch where we were seated and after six hours arrived at Carlisle where we were soon reunited with our car ready to embark on the 100 mile journey to our final destination of Ayr.

The whole journey was a great strain both physically and mentally as we were both very anxious to see dear Mother. We had been fortunate to find an accessible hotel at such short notice with a ground floor bed-room. The bed looked so inviting as we had been travelling over 13 hours but we knew sleep would elude us until we saw Mother first.

She was conscious when we quietly entered her bed room and her lovely smile was more than enough to compensate our gruelling journey.

 

It was difficult to catch her whispered words but we understood from her daughter that she would like some ice cream as the one she liked had all gone.

I made a map of the position of the ice cream parlour and leaving Mac to sit with his Mum, I set off in the car to obtain my purchase.

It was more luck than judgement that I found the shop and was able to park my car outside opposite the entrance. Looking out through the car window I was able to calculate the distance so decided that I should be able to make 15 yards without having to get my wheelchair out of the car. I opened the car door and with a drunken lunge having no co-0rdination in my leg movements literally fell into the shop and sank into a welcoming chair.

 

Purchase in hand, I staggered out of the shop and saw with horror a uniformed police constable standing by my vehicle holding a breathalyser bag. He cautioned me and said he had reason to believe I was driving while under the influence of alcohol. My legs would no longer support me and I fell in a heap at his feet. Slowly recovering I explained that I suffered from multiple sclerosis which had affected my ability to walk unaided and that I should have used my wheelchair. When the officer saw my hand controls on the car and examined my disabled badge I also pointed out my wheelchair. The relief was indescribable as I saw him replacing the breathalyzer bag into its carton even though I did agree to take the test.

With his help I was once more back in the seat of my car and drove off as soon as I could leaving a very confused young Scottish police constable with a very red face.

I wonder to this day if he ever did enter the incident into his little black book or related the incident to his colleagues.

Mother did enjoy her ice-cream although it was a little melted and was quite unaware of the drama my mission had caused, as far as I was concerned my eventful journey was well worth all my effort and I had learned a very big lesson in the process not to try and do things that my disability no longer allows me to.