On a Saturday morning as Spring was starting to finally come out of winter’s dark shadows, Michael drove round to Brian’s timber yard with his car full of photos and other paraphernalia that he and Pauline had been able to rescue from the Archives, when the head librarian was determined to have then thrown out. As he pulled into the yard, Brian was already there waiting for him.
“Well, if it isn’t my old school mate Michael,” Brian said cheerfully.
“Aye, it’s been a canny while, hasn’t it,” Michael replied equally cheerful.
“After you went off to university, I thought you were never coming back,” Brian said.
“I didn’t think I was, to be honest,” said Brian. “Anyway, here I am. Back in the Northeast.”
“So, is that your car?” Brian asked, pointing to the 2024 registration BMW parked just in front of the yard.
“It is,” Michael replied with a strange mixture of sheepishness and barely concealed pride.
“Very nice,” Brian commented. “You must be on good money. Better than most people around here, anyroad.”
“I’m doing alright,” was all that Michael would say.
Brian went over to look at the car in more detail. He couldn’t help but notice how it was full of stuff from the Archives of the library.
“So, is that all the stuff you mentioned you wanted storing?”
“Yes.”
“I see what you mean about there being a lot. I hope I have room for it all. There is one corner of the yard, I don’t really use so… anyway we will see.”
“Thanks Brian. I do appreciate it. It’s for my sister, like…”
“Aye, you said on the phone. No problem… What is it all anyroad?”
“It’s stuff from the Archives where Pauline works. They’re closing it down or something and it was all going to be hoyed out. Pauline thought it was worth saving…”
“And you ended up with it at your place?”
“Precisely. I could barely move for it…”
“OK, Well, let’s start putting it away…”
Michael and Brian started to get on with shifting all the archive material out of the car and into a sheltered part of the yard, where it could be stored. When they had finished, Brian began having a poke about it out of curiosity.
Ruffling through the archive material
“Some interesting stuff here, Michael. This town has quite a history when you think about it. What with the mine and the shipyards doon by the river. And the way people worked together. Look, there’s the old cooperative shop…” Brian held up a photo of the shop.
“Yes. I’ve had a look through it as well. Thought I might as well, seeing as how it was taking up so much room at home.”
“Where is home at the moment?” asked Brian. “I thought you had a nice house in London and were all set up doon there, like.”
“Well, I do. I haven’t sold it yet. I am just living in a rented flat down Newbiggin Avenue.”
“Oh, well you’re not exactly slumming it are you,” Brian replied.
“No.”
“You must have noticed how the toon is gannin’ doonhill, even if you are staying in Newbiggin Avenue.”
“Aye, it looks a bit rundown.”
“Rundown? It looks like it’s been run over!” Brian exclaimed in response.
“Well, it was never the wealthiest of towns…” Micheal suggested.
“It was not like this, though, was it? Remember, when we used to play 5-a-side at the leisure centre when we were teenagers?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Yeah well, bairns cannot do that now can they? It’s been closed for months. Aal boarded up…”
“So I’ve seen…”
There was a silence that could have been cut with a knife. Michael broke it….
“Do you still see any of those lads, then?”
“Now and then. Used to see Alan and John bit… remember them?”
“Aye, of course…always had strong views.”
“Well, we fell out a couple of weeks back…”
“Oh, just a disagreement in the pub.”
“Disagreement? What about?”
“Er, asylum seekers, actually…” Brian whispered.
“Asylum seekers…”
“Aye, asylum seekers. Well, they were blaming everything on them, I just disagreed you know. Well it’s not true is it?”
“What isn’t?”
“Well everything that’s going wrong. You can’t blame it all on asylum seekers, can you? I mean is it their fault that the leisure centre is closed?”
“No, I guess not…”
“There must be some other reason for all this dereliction…”
“Yes, there must” agreed Michael quietly, looking away slightly at the same time.
“Y’alreet?” Brian asked.
“Yeah, yeah sure…”
Brian continued to poke about in the archives. After a while he picked out one particular photo. He looks at it and sadly shakes his head.
“Look at this photo,” he said.
“What about it?” asked Michael.
“Well they’re pitmen aren’t they? From Gallowhill pit I dare say. They look tired, don’t they?”
“Well they would do, if it was taken just after a shift.”
They both looked at the photo again.
“We don’t know if it was just after a shift, do we?” Brian replied after a long pause. “But look again at their demeanour. There is a pride there, isn’t there? Where would you see that now?”
“Yes, yes, I suppose there is, now that you mention it… As for now, well I’ve been away a long time and…”
“There’s another one here. It’s a ship being launched down at the river. Look. You can see the men cheering. They’ve achieved something, I suppose. There’s the same pride…”
“Yes, I suppose there is…”
Michael and Brian looked through some more of the photos and then Brian asks a question he has been wanting to ask all morning.
“So, anyway, what’s brought you back here, Michael? I got the impression that you couldn’t wait to get away to the south and make your fortune. Like Dick Whittington. All you needed was a black cat to go down with you. You didn’t buy one down London did you?”
Michael smiled. “No….no, I didn’t.”
“So why are you back?”
“I just have a bit of work to do.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, just a bit of work with the elected mayor.”
“What, with John Armstrong? He’s a tough one, so they say…”
“So, they do,” agreed Michael, before thanking Brian for his help, turning away and making his excuses to leave.
To be continued…
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