Killerqueenbex-
Glad you liked the choice of name! As for Hull? It was an accident of birth and circumstance rather than a willing choice on the future Auntie's part. In any case, I hope you like this next chapter .
CHAPTER THREE
Meanwhile Back in November, 2013. .. in the Bide a Wee Hospital Registration Desk .
"So, you're sayin' this Smartphone of yers can outsmart Howard an' solve the mystery of Auntie Wainwright's name? This I gotta see," Pearl chuckled.
"It's real easy. All we have to do is find out Howard's uncle's name and, with a few search engine clicks, we can find marriage records and then, presto, Auntie Wainwright's name!" Entwistle exclaimed –as he got out his Smartphone.
"Sounds rather exciting, Pearl! I can hardly wait to see how it turns out!" Howard exclaimed.
"Howard, you're the one we need ask the question to," Cleggy groaned.
"Oh, right. What's the question again?" Howard asked while everyone did facepalms.
"Do you remember your uncle's name? The one who married Auntie. .." Pearl fumed.
"That's easy! Of course, I remember it! I can recall it like he was standing here!" Howard beamed.
"So what is it, Mr. Sibshaw?" Penny the medical receptionist asked.
"It was. .. Uncle WAINWRIGHT! That's it! Auntie Wainwright was married to UNCLE Wainwright! Told you I could do it! You think you could do the search now?" Howard smirked.
"Do you know how many thousands of Wainwrights have gotten married?" Cleggy groaned.
"Howard, we already know his last name ! Do you recall his given name?" Entwistle sighed.
"Mother always insisted it was rude to address an elder by his given name so she insisted I always call him by . ." Howard sputtered.
"We know!" all the others groaned.
"Are you disappointed, Pearl?" Howard sighed.
"No, Howard. After all these years being your wife, it's a comfort to know you have the ability to dumbfound a Smartphone!" Pearl sneered while swatting Howard in the back of the head.
. .
.
August, 1943- Hull.
Our protagonist at this time known as Lydia Grubb attempted to sneak back in the Factory Dorm after the All Clear sounds and could see the stars through the bomb-cratered ceiling towering far above her 17-year-old head as well as hear the wind whistling through. She even took her espadrille shoes off in an effort to make as little noise as possible but that wasn't enough to avoid the loose floorboard immediately outside the Dorm door.
"Sneakin' back, Grubby?" Miss Murdoch, the foreman perpetually in a hairnet and with a scowl sneered.
"No, Miss Murdock. .. I was," Lydia sputtered.
"Save it! I don't care if ya get blasted to bits by them NAZI bombs or turned into a mattress by half of Hull but I won't waste me time actin' like Bo Peep with ya," Miss Murdock seethed as she slapped Lydia in the face.
"Yes, Miss Murdock," Lydia gulped.
"Now, in there an' get enough rest so you can keep them machines going in the morn!" Miss Murdock boiled as she shoved the much smaller Lydia into the dorm room.
At once, she discovered the entire dorm room was waiting inside.
"Whose yer bedmate or should we say . . .gutter mate?" one of the beefier women workers sneered.
"It wasn't like that, " Lydia protested.
"Oh, tryin' to act like a baroness wit' us again! We'll show ya!" another exclaimed.
And soon Lydia was surrounded by them slapping and punching her in the face. They hated her for being smaller than them, younger than them. .and just different from them. Nothing they'd said or did was anything different than it had been in years but this time, there was something different. There was someone out there who saw her for more than an outcast factory girl and that made all the difference. So, this time, Lydia didn't give them the satisfaction of shedding a single tear.
Two days later, another air raid and, despite Miss Murdock's warning, Lydia couldn't wait to break free of the others and bolt to ruined city to see if she might find. .
"Pokey Girl! What thee doin' 'ere?" Alfred Wainwright asked- as he digging through the rubble of a bombed out townhouse.
"I just was wondering if you might return to Hull,"Lydia sighed.
"Course I was! It's got what I need," Alfred explained as he pulled his fingerless gloves a bit higher on his wrists- and shoved a book beneath the tarp of his push cart
"Wait! You were reading something!" Lydia exclaimed.
"Good insight, Girl! Can thee read?" Alfred asked.
"Oh, I adore reading. It takes me to a world that's not being destroyed around our ears," Lydia confessed.
"Who taught thee?" Alfred asked.
"No one, really. I just remember watching others do it and imitating them first the letters then the words," Lydia gulped.
"Glory! Thee are the first I've met who got that gift like I did!" Alfred exclaimed.
"You mean, you taught yourself,too?" Lydia asked.
"Aye! I swear on. .. here it is!" Alfred exclaimed as he pulled out a rather battered King James edition from beneath the tarp and other odds &ends.
"Did you steal that?"Lydia gasped.
"Now, what kinda scoundrel, do thee take me for?" Alfred asked.
"Someone desperate enough for loopholes," Lydia laughed.
"Touché," Alfred laughed.
"You have a bookmark! Care to show me what you were reading?" Lydia asked.
"Thee won't give me peace if I don't. It's a little tale about a purple cloth seller who became Europe's first Christian!" Alfred shrugged- while handing it over to Lydia.
"St. Paul was given shelter by her. Her? It's a woman. . .and her name was LYDIA!" Lydia beamed.
"Aye- an' in some churches she's considered a saint," Alfred laughed.
"It says here she had servants ! Servants ! That means she got rich and all from selling purple cloth!" Lydia laughed.
"Purple cloth came from crushed snails on the Phoenician coast an' greatly prized. Why Cleopatra herself had her boats' sails dyed that color!" Alfred laughed.
"Wonder how many snails got crushed for Cleopatra's sails?" Lydia asked.
"Enough to help make purple dear enough for only rich folk an' royals to afford," Alfred shrugged.
"So that's why it's the royal color and Lydia sold it! Do you think I could get rich from selling things?" Lydia asked.
"If thee learned to read on thy own, thee has the knack," Alfred chuckled.
Over the next week, Lydia would take advantage of the air raids and learn more and more about the value of junk and what it meant to those who treasured it from Alfred then one day she saw Miss Murdock lead an Air Raid Warden to the spot under the bridge.
"There he is. Arrest him for fillin this factory gal with high fallutin' notions," Miss Murdock seethed.
"So, Wainwright. You're not just a looting vagrant, you're corrupting a minor. We're not tolerating buggery these parts. You're under arrest," the Air Raid Warden boiled as he started to put the cuffs on Alfred.
"Wait! You can't arrest him. He didn't DO anything to me," Lydia pleaded.
"Girl, don't thee try to spoil me reputation," Alfred groaned.
"But it's the truth. I've . .. known boys and can't say I'm pure but I can honestly say I know a gentleman's heart beats beneath his rags,"Lydia pleaded.
"A few romps with the boys an' she's an expert on men," Miss Murdock sneered.
"Look, Girl, they're gonna give me a roof an' three squares for years to come," Alfred whispered to her.
"No, Mr. Wainwright. Not this way! You deserve better than being shut up with common criminals and derelicts," Lydia pleaded.
"Very well, Wainwright. You leave this town and this girl right now an' forever and we'll just let you go but if you ever show your face, into the brig with you!" the Air Raid Warden warned.
"You heard the man, Grubby. Stay away from him and I'll see to it you keep safe an' protected in the factory," Miss Murdock warned.
"Safe and protected?! Bombs nearly every night , working all hours to exhaustion with rickety machines, to say nothing of everyone picking on me and beating me up and you just laughing it off! NO! I'd rather be on street alone than spend the rest of my life in the factory," Lydia insisted.
"Ungrateful wench!" Miss Murdock snarled.
"Don't you be callin' her a 'wench'! She's far more a lady than you could ever hope!" Alfred boiled.
"Wainwright. Don't make threats or. ."the Air Raid Warden warned.
"Or you throw me in jail? Nah, even if I ne'er lay eyes on Miss Lydia again, she's helped me see that I'm better than that," Alfred exclaimed.
"Wainwright!" the Air Raid Warden thundered.
"Very well, I'll take leave but not afore I at least ask Miss Lydia if she'd like to join me," Alfred gulped.
"Join you?" Lydia, Miss Murdock and the Air Raid Warden asked.
"Yeah. I ain't got much more than what I've scrounged but I wanna share it with thee if thee would consent to be the first an' last Mrs. Alfred Wainright," Alfred exclaimed-as he painfully got on his left [good]knee to
"Marry him?! He's even older than me!" Miss Murdock sneered.
"Yes, I will! "Lydia exclaimed.
"You'll rot in the streets,Grubby" Miss Murdock boiled.
"It's LYDIA and I never want to hear that other name again, Murdy!" Lydia sneered.
"We're walking you two straight to the Registrar's Office so you don't try to pull a fast one then we're running you out of the city," the Air Raid Warden insisted.
So, within an hour, Lydia Grubb [aged 17] married Alfred Wainwright[aged 48] in Hull on August 22,1943 with sarcastic warnings and jeers from the Registrar [who nonetheless found no impediments from being able to marry the pair and grudgingly did so] . Afterwards, she took with her nothing more than clothes on her back and wasn't the least sorry to leave the factory.
"We'll use the tarp for a tent tonight. Just so thee know, thee ain't the first on me part either," Alfred laughed as he spread the tarp out on the open field that night.
"So now that we've been barred from Hull, where will we go?" Lydia Wainwright asked.
""Pokey Girl, fine time to ask that question after instead of before we got shotgunned," Alfred laughed.
"Shotgunned?" Lydia asked.
"Look, the two of us have had no one all our lives an' we've got next to nothing but I'm bettin' havin' next to nothin' with each other will be better than either of us had afore," Alfred shrugged.
"So any ideas?" Lydia asked.
" Thee sure don't beat 'round the bush, "Alfred chuckled.
"Well?" Lydia asked.
"Oh, I've got kin up in West Riding. Can't say they'll welcome us but maybe they'll show a little mercy on thee's account," Alfred shrugged