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A Shout From The Attic: Honley

Ronnie Bray tells of yet another move in his peripatetic life.

Matt and I moved to Honley by accident. We had to find somewhere to live because lodging with Mary K was difficult. Our accommodation was comfortable enough, but Matt’s toys began to disappear and once he lost some money that had been on the bedside table, that mysteriously reappeared soon after I asked Mary if one of her children might have helped himself.

“It had,” Mary informed me with bizarre precision, “been found on the floor at the back of the table, and if Matthew had opened his eyes and looked hard enough, he would have found it himself instead of making veiled accusations!” I did not argue with her for I had already decided that we must leave her lodging.

I did not ask her how she could account for the odd fact that one of the two florins had miraculously changed itself from a George V coin to a George VI one by falling to the floor and being retrieved, nor how it had come to be there when it was not there when I looked for it.

Some questions are better left unasked.

I found an empty house in Honley and arranged to move in to 39 Reins Terrace. We had only been in ten minutes before discovering why it was empty. However, our landlord, Jack, assured us that he would fix everything and being a trusting soul my fears were assuaged and the move was made. I still wonder if Jack was aware of everything that needed fixing. He seemed to do but …

Anyway, we were now in Honley, Matt at a new school that he enjoyed, with teachers that enjoyed him.


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