Loving Memory

(Hens cluck)

Ta-ra, Mrs Swales.

- Cheerio, George.

- Cheerio, Herb. See you Monday.

Bye-bye, Mrs Swales.

Thanks very much.

Bye-bye, love. Bye.

Cheerio.

(Birdsong)

(Cattle lowing)

(Gulls crying)

(Bicycle wheel spinning)

(Car door opens)

(Car door closes)

(Footsteps)

What a pity, Ambrose.

(Doves coo)

(Water sloshing)

(Clock chiming)

(Birds squawking)

(Shoes tapping and scraping)

(Clock ticking)

(Rings)

(Car engine)

(Clattering)

(Flies buzzing)

(Clock chiming)

(Birdsong)

(Trundling)

(Water sloshing)

(Clock ticking)

(Door creaks)

(Flies buzzing)

Oh, everything's so dirty.

Your shirt's just about done,

all frayed around the collar.

Best if I wash everything.

Be more comfortable.

I'll do them in the morning.

'Won't take long to dry

if it's a good day.'

(Flies buzzing)

Our James was just growing hairs.

About the same size, you look.

'Better have his shirt.

'Yours nearly fell apart in the wash.

'Not really worth keeping.

'Wear one of James' shirts.

'Much better and warmer.'

All clean and ironed.

James' shirt's nearly new.

Same one as in that picture.

Well, new when he came home.

Ambrose was keen for it.

He's got that many shirts.

He was very poorly.

Hurt in the stomach and legs.

Just before James came home,

a plane crashed.

Ambrose got lots of pieces for his hut.

Wheeled the propeller home

on his barrow.

"Present for James

when he comes home", he said.

Strange how Ambrose seemed to know

that James was coming back

and so sick.

Oh, but he was glad to be home.

We took lots of photos,

like this one of the propeller

and James all dressed up in his uniform.

But he got very weak.

He had to stay in bed

nearly all the time.

This was his room,

but it was different.

Ambrose brought

the propeller up here,

so James could look at it.

He slept for a long time

before Ambrose took him up the hill.

We didn't wake him.

Better not when he was so poorly.

Eh, that fits you just right.

You'll be a lot more comfortable like that.

I found your glasses.

Very like James' glasses, too.

Not very strong.

This side's all broken.

You could maybe wear

James' glasses sometimes.

I could show my books.

They're full of pictures and letters.

Took such a long time to make.

Every piece has to be stuck in

very carefully

not to mark it, mind.

You can't move marks

once you've made 'em.

Don't make books

any more now, though.

No more pictures.

James took

nearly all the pictures I have.

What would be nice,

if I could show you my books

from the beginning.

There's three of them.

Read you a piece every day.

I could show you all of them

before you go.

(Gramophone record playing)

# Everything's in rhythm

with my heart

# The flowers that grow

and the breezes that blow

# Seem to go

with the flow of my song

# And the song I sing's

in rhythm with my heart

# Everything's in rhythm

with my heart

# The rhythm is sweet,

even crowds in the street

# Move their feet

to the beat of my song

(Clock chimes)

# Everything's in rhythm

with my heart #

There's his first picture,

one James took

in Saltburn on the beach.

This is the lift

that takes you down to the pier.

Costs a penny to go on the pier

and you can look through

special glasses out to sea.

Fishermen pay sixpence

to fish off the end of it.

On a Sunday, James would take me

and Ambrose on the pier

to listen to the band.

Lots of little old ladies in deckchairs.

(Brass band plays)

This was James' room.

It was different, though.

I'd bring the books up

and he'd tell me

about all the pictures,

where he was when he took 'em,

the people in 'em.

"Always have your back to the sun,"

was his rule.

He always got good pictures, too.

We'd sit just like this,

and he'd tell me a story

about each picture.

Well, it was different,

because he was lying in bed

and the bed was over there

in the corner by the window.

The window was always open.

The little table stood right against the bed.

He always had his glasses

and a book on it,

and a picture of Mother and Father.

Sometimes, at first,

he'd sit in this chair.

And he even sat

by the front door on a hot day.

But after he'd gone,

Ambrose changed everything.

Told me I wasn't to sit in here all day.

It wasn't healthy, he said.

He started to move things in here.

And he put hooks in the ceiling

and hung the propeller up.

Made more room for storing things,

he said.

'Bit by bit

Ambrose took all his shirts.

'Except that one.

'That's my favourite.

'James sold the farm

and went to work for Mr Tud.

'We moved up dale to here.

'Not far.

'They'd just closed the railway.

'Sometimes they ran special trains,

but they never stopped here.'

Oh, it was different then.

We had some sheep and hens,

and grew potatoes

and cabbages out back.

You'll get a crick in your neck,

sitting like that.

(Flies buzzing)

(Sniffs)

Ah.

# You have been my inspiration

# Love has been my guiding light

# When I close my eyes

# My heart always smiles... #

If I put you in his uniform,

you'll be just like him, sitting there,

wearing those same glasses, too.

James took us to Saltburn

in his uniform.

It was different then, though.

We go to Saltburn

every three months of a Saturday

to get special things

like coal and wood and nails.

Ambrose gets explosives

and things for his mine.

I got some Wellingtons last time.

They still send Christmas cards.

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