Chapter 38

The arrival of Mr. Brasher caused quite a stir. She had written to him advising taking the road through Wheddon Cross and Paverton, something for which she was profoundly grateful when she saw his car. A Rolls Royce! It was not a complete surprise, knowing that whilst he was unworldly, he nonetheless insisted on the best quality, so his choice of car could more or less be predicted. What was incongruous was his small figure getting out of a car so large, and it was large! He would never have got that up the lane. Later she would find out it was a Silver Wraith made in nineteen fifty four, with a body by Mulliners. Mary had immediately said the car should be parked down the back, and Mr. Brasher, without a care, had handed the keys to Jack, who was petrified. "I can't put that through that narrow gateway, what if I scrape it? It will cost a fortune to repair. No, someone else will have to do it." Mary pointed out reasonably that there was no one else. "Mary, you will have to help. Watch me in." "I can't do that. I have to go and settle Mr. Brasher in. I am sure he will be wanting some Tea. Get on with it Jack." Jack walked around the car assessing the width and length. With those measurements in mind he walked to the gate and eyed it, then looked back at the car. It probably would go through he thought but not without help. The problem was resolved as Harry Webster came past on his Tractor.

He stopped immediately, and came over to admire the Rolls. "Good Lord! A Silver Wraith. Mulliner body if I'm not mistaken." Jack looked astonished. "Harry! You take one look and you know all about it, how come?" "Always been interested in these, Jack, well all Rolls and Bentley's really, always wanted to own one. Fat chance on a farmer's income, but I can dream can't I?" He shook his head. "This is a beauty, I mean look at it. Got style, and it's immaculate. Lovely!" "Well if you know so much about them, you can put it down the back, come on, I'll see you in." Harry was ecstatic. "Never thought I would get to drive one of these. Hang on, I'll take me boots off, don't want to get mud all over." He then regarded his overalls. "Don't suppose you have something I could sit on, my overalls aren't that clean." Jack went off to fetch a towel from the Bar.

Abby was sitting in the Lounge with Mr. Brasher, who seemed much more at ease than when she met him before. He took a sip of the tea, nodded in appreciation, and looked around. "I didn't get to see this place last time I was here." Abby almost choked on her tea. "You were here before?" "Yes. It was in nineteen sixty six. About three months before the line closed. There were a lot of closures about that time, and I made it my purpose to travel all of them before they were gone forever. I was on the train of course, so I didn't have an opportunity to stop and look around." He picked up his voluminous bag, which Abby remembered from the bookshop. This time he had no trouble in finding what he sought.

"I have been able to get these few photos. Most are original GWR publicity shots, taken in nineteen thirty four. That was the last time the station underwent any major alterations. And I do have a few taken in nineteen fifty two. Those were unofficial photos, taken by an enthusiast." He cleared some space on the table and laid them down. "These are the official ones. As you can see the photography was first class, and shows the detail very well. Unfortunately from your point of view they wouldn't allow any of the staff to be present on the platform at the time, but as your Grandfather didn't take up his appointment until nineteen thirty eight, it makes little difference." Abby studied the prints carefully. "These are very good, I imagine that Ms. Eaton..." "Excuse me. Miss Tregonney." Mr. Brasher interrupted. " Who is Ms. Eaton?" "The Heritage Officer." "Ah!" "These should satisfy her completely. I believe she hasn't been able to find any such evidence as this. It's a pity they are black and white, though. We can't tell what the colours were like." Mr. Brasher gave a small smile. "Oh that's a little enough problem. The GWR used standard colours throughout the system. I have plenty of evidence of how the buildings were painted, I can even put you in touch with manufacturers who still have the actual colour recipe." "Mr. Brasher, you are a marvel." "No Miss Tregonney, it was the Great Western which was the marvel." He sorted out the photos taken in the fifties. "As I said these were unofficial. But as you can see there was little change. Now, Miss Tregonney, do you think that could be your Grandfather there?" He pointed to a figure standing just outside the buildings.

Abby nodded. Even with her eyes misty she could recognise him immediately. It was the uniform and Cap that gave it away. "Yes, Mr. Brasher. That's him." "I am so pleased. Would you like these improved? I can get better copies you know." "That's very kind of you. I would like that." "Leave it with me, I'll send them on to you as soon as possible. I have to say though Miss Tregonney, that he does look a little fearsome, if you don't mind me saying so. I notice that he is wearing the old style uniform of the Great Western, not the British Railways one." Abby smiled. "I understand he was not exactly pleased with photographers coming around. As for his uniform, I am told that he disapproved of nationalisation, and refused to wear anything but the Great Western one." Mr. Brasher thought about that and with a small smile nodded his head. "I think I rather like your Grandfather Miss Tregonney, he sounds like a man I could have warmed to." "Mr. Brasher, please call me Abby." "I would be pleased to. I usually answer to just Brasher. I don't think you would be comfortable using my given name, in fact it hasn't been used for over thirty years." "I'm sorry but I could not call you anything but Mr. Brasher. It would not seem respectful." God she thought, I have gone all Combe Lyney. He did not say anything to this except smile. Abby was saved any further embarrassment by the approach of Jack, who held out the keys to the car.

"It's safely round the back, Mr. Brasher, and I have taken your case up to the room. Lovely car though. You must feel good driving that." "I drive very little. It's totally impractical for London." "Harry said it was the Mulliner body." "Yes it is. He must know his cars then. They had to make me a special seat and pedals position." He indicated his lack of height. "Otherwise I could not see over the steering wheel." Jack nodded, Harry had said something to that effect. "Can I get you something to drink?" "No thank you, not at the moment. I am enjoying the tea very much, though. I have not had tea like this for years." Jack said he would see them later. Mr. Brasher turned to Abby.

"You seem to know a little more about your Grandfather?" "I have been talking to a couple of people who actually knew him. Sam Perry, who has farmed here for years, and Reg Purvess who was the signalman in the late fifties and early sixties." Mr. Brasher hummed a little to himself. "Do you think I could talk to them as well. I would be very interested in their reminiscences, particularly Mr. Purvess." "That's no problem. Sam comes in here most evenings, and I am fairly certain that Reg will come over if we ask." "Excellent! Now if you will excuse me, I shall go and unpack. Do you know what room I have been given?" "One moment I will check." Abby went to look at the wall chart, and saw that Mary had written Mr. Brasher's name next to room three. The key was on the hook, so she brought it back. "Here you are. Room three. Is there anything I can carry for you?" "Thank you, Abby. I can manage. Shall I see you later?" "Yes, I shall be here. Will you join me for Dinner? About seven thirty." "I will be delighted. I shall see you then."