The Convenience of Sharing

Miss Middleton and Miss Templeton were thrown together by the exigencies of war. Not that either of them fought in one, nor that they were behind the scenes helping win that war, no there was another simpler reason. Both ladies lost a fiancée on the same day, 6th June 1944. Both their beau's had been the first of their regiments to hit the beaches that the allies had picked as landing grounds for what was then the largest sea born invasion to date. The invasion was part of Operation Overlord, being the first step in freeing Europe from the tyranny of Nazi Germanys stranglehold. As such Corporal Ernie Smith and Sergeant Andy Robinson fell at almost the same moment at either end of the beachhead as their friends and fellow insurgents tried to find a place of safety whilst the beach was swept with murderous machine gun fire by the German Army. The Wehrmacht forces were caught by surprise but swiftly came to action and the beaches soon filled with crawling men or the dead bodies of those already hit by their gunfire.

From England, unknown to the populace, a veritable army of 160,000 men had crossed the gap and were jostling to maintain a bridgehead 22 miles away over the sea, on a warm sunlight day on the French beaches. The Misses Middleton and Templeton, had no idea of what was occurring, or that they had been suddenly and irrevocably parted from their loved ones forever. Each went about their normal business, one a Secretary at a local division of the County Council, the other a shop assistant at a greengrocers in town. When the newspapers declared that the invasion had begun the following day, each was unaware of the events that had occurred that prior day. Later each would approach the parents of their beloved and ask for news, each would be told that so far they had not had any information either from a son or the Army. The following day, a Thursday, the 8th June, each would be told by a shattered parent that their son, the girls affianced, had lost their life on the opening day of the battle. Shattered each had retreated to work, but were obviously deeply upset by the news. Kindly managers sent each home, one to her parents, one to the empty council house that was being readied for occupation on a heroes return.

Miss Middleton realised that her dream of a life together in the future with Ernie was now nothing more than that, a dream, and her life was now a nightmare. Her retired parents were sad but not entirely shocked by the loss of their potential son-in-law, it was a fact of life that war was a nasty sort of business to be involved in, even when the cause was just. They had seen their share of anxiety and grief in the maelstrom of what was considered the war to end all wars, some twenty years previously. So they were sad for their daughter, but long term expected her to pull herself together, square her shoulders, lift her burden and get back on the road of life, whilst looking for another suitable mate. And this was conveyed to her over the next several weeks. Meanwhile Miss Templeton had quickly realised that the rent for the house she now occupied was a little more than she could afford on her own wage. There was a margin of delay before she ran out of money, mostly because she could take some of her Post Office savings, funds she had put aside for her wedding, and use that to cover the shortfall for a while. There was therefore a small period in which she could manoeuvre. She resolved then to use that space to advertise for a lodger to share costs, especially the rent, but also the gas and electricity and the luxury of a telephone, something Andrew had insisted on when they had contemplated their wedding and living together as a married couple afterwards.

As soon as she was able to Miss Templeton had approached the offices of the local newspaper, The Southbourne Mercury, in order to post a notice in their classified advertisements. Lady wanted to share a house, located in quiet residential area, costs to include rent, gas, electricity and telephone, apply to Miss Templeton, Southbourne 4165, after 6pm. Cost to Miss Templeton 4 shillings for four weekly listings in the paper. The day of publication came and that evening the telephone rang and Miss Templeton answered the call from Miss Middleton, who was calling from the red telephone box located at the junction of her parents road and the main road through the town. Miss Middleton inserted her penny into the slot in the pay phone and after Miss Templeton answered pressed button A and responded politely to Miss Templeton's questions, before inserting a second penny and asking her own questions. It was agreed that they would meet at the property, 16 Oak Drive, Southbourne, on Saturday morning at 11 am, for an inspection of the house and for the two ladies to see if they felt that they could live together as tenants in common. At no point did either lady offer a first name or request the others, since the matter was strictly a formal business transaction.

On Saturday morning at 6 am, Miss Templeton arose, scrubbed the doorstep, breakfasted, cleaned the house, washed and changed her clothes to those of her occupation as Principal Secretary to the Secretary of the Council. She chose a long sleeved white blouse buttoned to the neck, under a black tailored jacket, a voluminous black skirt which ended at her calves, a small brooch depicting a flower basket pinned to her left breast. Her long hair was carefully rolled up and mounted on her head in a high bun, secured by several hair grips, and a smart bow in a deep red colour. Sitting in her favourite chair in the lounge she awaited Miss Middleton. Miss Middleton meanwhile had left her parents home at 11am and strode steadily from it to the address she had been given, her gait purposeful, but not likely to cause her to glow, or woe betide her, to sweat. In twenty five minutes she found her way to Oak Drive and within a further two minutes number 16. She was dressed for the occasion in a wrap over blouse secured by buttons and a bow. A skirt to her calves in black, stockings, a rarity but the occasion demanded it. A pair of sensible single strap flat shoes and a coat of a thin but serviceable nature, in black. Her hair was covered in a headscarf, worn turban style.

Walking calmly up the short path, she rang the bell, hearing its strident tone echoing down the hall. A moment later the front door opened and the two ladies gazed at each other for the first time.

"Miss Templeton?"

"Miss Middleton?"

They each nodded, then Miss Templeton stood aside in a gesture indicating that the other was welcome to enter. With a slight smile Miss Middleton walked into the hallway passing the other woman and heard the door close behind her. Miss Templeton ushered Miss Middleton into the lounge and had her sit down whilst she brought tea through. Miss Middleton sat in the seat indicated and Miss Templeton disappeared from the lounge. Several minutes later she reappeared bearing a tray with cups, saucers, a teapot, a milk jug and a plate of home made biscuits. The biscuits themselves were drab affairs, since rationing reduced the sugar allowance to incredibly small measures. Even allowing for this it was an admirable gesture, which Miss Middleton remarked on and Miss Templeton accepted. Once tea and general chit-chat was finished, Miss Templeton showed Miss Middleton the house, taking time to explain the living arrangements and the likely cost of moving in. Miss Middleton nodded and "ah-hahed" as she followed Miss Templeton round. She asked questions and nodded at the answers, tucking them away in her head. She lingered a little longer in what was proposed as her bedroom. Noting the iron frame bed, the quilt covering the mattress and bottom sheet. There was a plain wooden wardrobe, in which she would have space to hang her clothes, it had two drawers under, which she knew was enough space for her limited range of blouses and jumpers, her underwear and other "bits and pieces". Separate to this was a dressing table with a small upholstered stool under it. The light switch was by the door and was used to turn on the single bulb that hung from the ceiling, she realised she would need to buy a lampshade or take the one from her room at home.

The bathroom contained the bath, a toilet and basin, Miss Templeton assured her that she would be able to bathe at least twice, possibly three times a week, otherwise a strip wash was the preferred routine. Towels and a flannel would be provided, washday would be Saturday, as they both worked Monday to Friday. Miss Middleton nodded, but was aware that as was tradition locally, all shops closed Wednesday afternoon, "early closing day" it was called, so she explained that to Miss Templeton, who though a little non-plussed at her forgetfulness, accepted that Miss Middleton may wish to have Wednesday afternoon for washing her clothes. Miss Middleton nodded and said that she would still be free Saturday afternoon from 1.30 pm. The two seemed to be getting to know each other better and found that the other was actually very easy going and understanding. Finally another cup of tea, this time in the kitchen, sitting at the small table they discussed the terms of the informal arrangement in sharing the costs of the home. Each finding the other more than willing to accept a little give and take they agreed that the following Saturday, Miss Middleton would join Miss Templeton at 16 Oak Drive for the foreseeable future. Miss Middleton handed over the sum of 10 shillings and sixpence to secure her deposit. They shook hands and parted.

The following Saturday a taxi drew up outside, depositing Miss Middleton with two very ancient leather suitcases, a gaudily decorated Gladstone Bag and a pile of books tied together with string outside number 16. This trip had cost her the sum of 2 shillings and four pence, over a days pay, but worth it to avoid several trips walking back and forth. Walking to the door she carried her belongings and dropped them to ring the bell. Just as she reached forward, Miss Templeton opened it and stepping out took the Gladstone Bag and books, leaving the other to heft the suitcases inside. They took the stairs up to the spare bedroom and Miss Templeton placed the bag and books on the bed, uttering the word "tea" and received a grateful nod from her co-tenant. As she left Miss Middleton began to open the suitcases and unpack, by the time she had everything stowed away, Miss Templeton knocked gently at the door and awaited the answering response before entering. Smiling she placed a cup and saucer on the bedside cabinet. Still smiling, she asked if everything was okay, receiving a beaming nod from her new friend.

Later a smiling Miss Middleton descended the stairs with an empty cup balanced on its saucer and entered the kitchen. Miss Templeton was busy preparing an evening meal, so Miss Middleton asked how she could help and was soon washing and preparing the vegetables. Soon they sat down to a stew, with a tiny portion of meat alongside root vegetables and pearl barley to thicken the ingredients and help provide substance. Dessert was a thin piece of Victoria sandwich with tinned evaporated milk and sliced apple. Miss Middleton produced her ration book and passed it to Miss Templeton, telling her that they should use both their books in future when buying food. They washed up and made tea, seating themselves comfortably in the lounge, listening to the radio. After the news, despite its upbeat take on how the war was progressing, they sat in silence. Each lost in the thoughts of what might have been. Miss Middleton was hard pressed not to sob and Miss Templeton noticed, as she too tried not to break down.

Eventually as they sat in contemplation the question was asked and the responses broke both women, who dissolved in tears as each told their tale. Miss Templeton moved to the sofa to comfort Miss Middleton, who in turn tried to comfort her too. Eventually they calmed enough to dry their eyes, but sat side by side together. Awkwardness disappeared and they held hands silently. Eventually Miss Templeton spoke.

"My name is Susan, what may I call you."

"My name is Susan too, I can't believe this, how is it that we are both called Susan, what a coincidence."

"Andrew, my fiancée, said that there was no such thing as a coincidence. Do you think our circumstances are such that some unseen hand has decreed that we should be brought together."

"You think the gods have conspired to bring us together for some purpose?"

"Well it's possible, some higher power has decided that we are to be placed together for a special reason."

"How funny would that be?"

"Well we shall stay together until the purpose is revealed."

"Excellent, well should we make some more tea to celebrate this union?"

"Gosh that makes it sound rather naughty, a union of two women. Strong and resourceful as we are."

"Perhaps that's it Susan, we are being prepared to take over, when the men fail to resolve this conflict?"

"Take the reins of power and steer the ship to safety,"

"Well that's a mixed metaphor but yes something like it."

"Oh goody! I wonder when it will happen?"

"We will await our calling with trepidation, but with hope in our hearts."

"I'll put the kettle on."

Later after they had tidied up they went upstairs to prepare for bed. Susan Templeton knocked on Susan Middleton's door and poked her head in, telling her the bathroom was free. With a thanks, Susan Middleton slung a hand towel over her dressing gowned shoulder and headed to the bathroom. She completed her ablutions, turned the light in the bathroom off and then the one on the landing and went into her bedroom. Disrobing until clad only in her long sleeved high necked nightdress that touched the floor, she climbed into bed. At seven thirty she awoke and climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom then descended the stairs. In the kitchen, she boiled water and put two heaped spoonfuls of tea in the warmed pot, then she poured two cups of tea, leaving the teapot under a quirky knitted tea cosy. Taking the two tea cups and saucers upstairs she knocked on her co-tenants door, hearing a cheery come in, she pushed open the door, placing the tea on the top of the bedside cabinet, a twin of her own. Accepting the heartfelt "bless you"' she smiled and left the other to enjoy her tea in peace.

Susan Templeton sat and sipped her tea, listening to the sounds outside as the town woke up. As it was Sunday, she readied herself for her bath. Taking her nightdress off, she pulled on her dressing gown and and made her way to the bathroom, passing the spare room, she knocked and let Susan know what she was doing, there was a short noise, which she assumed meant okay and entered the bathroom. Pulling off her dressing gown, she hung it on the hook, wondering why there was one there already. As she turned, she screamed and moved to cover herself as best she could. Lying in the bathtub in her allowed four inches of water, likewise, Susan Middleton attempted to cover herself as best she could, trying to hide her own nakedness.

"I thought you were still in bed?"

"Likewise, I thought I could be in and out without getting in your way."

"If it wasn't so mortifying it would be funny,"

"Well you've got nothing to be ashamed of have you?"

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you mean!"

"Susan, you're beautiful, flawless skin, lovely... chest thingies, gorgeous shape..."

"Chest thingies? I've never heard them called that before."

"I panicked, I didn't want to say the word... you know?"

"No, what word was that?"

Susan Templeton smiled, goading her to say the word.

"I'm not going to say it!"

"You can do this Suzy, come on what are they?"

"No, shan't!"

Susan Middleton rolled over in the bath and hid herself.

"Do you want me to smack your lovely pert bum, say it!"

"No! Owww!"

"Warned you, what are they called?"

Smack!

"Owww! Breasts, they're called your breasts,"

"Thank you, so shall I leave you to your bath?"

"Well as you're here now and you've seen everything I haven't got, I'd say no you can stay."

"Well from what I can see, and yes I think I have seen everything, it looks like you have everything that men require and it's quite deliciously put together. If I might say so, which I have."

"You do know it is rude to stare like that?"

"I'm not staring, just comparing."

"Comparing what, my plainness to your beauty?"

"Au Contraire, my new found friend, just comparing my imperfect self to your radiance. Honestly Susan you are truly beautiful, your skin is flawless, your breasts perfectly sized and that waist and those hips. You're the sort of woman who makes me wish I was a man."

"Stop it! You're being ridiculous, I'm just a plain Jane compared to you. Look at you, perfect in just about every department. I could crawl into a corner and weep after looking at you."

They continued to stare at each other, slowly loosening up until Susan Templeton dropped her hands to her side and wandered over to the toilet, closed the lid and sat. Susan Middleton turned over and leaned back in the water, arms resting on the tubs edge. They smiled stupidly at each other, then giggled and finally laughed. Finishing her wash, Susan climbed from the tub and wrapped a towel round herself, then giggled at the tub gurgling as the water ran away. Replacing the plug, Susan Templeton allowed it to refill. Stepping in she sat and smiled, lay back as much as she could so the water rose up her sides, to the mark that had been made with red nail polish on the side of the bath at four inches above the bottom. Meanwhile Susan Middleton placed a foot on the tub as she dried her leg, switching to the other foot to dry the other leg. Finishing, she sat on the toilet looking as Susan Templeton washed her hair, knees bent so her head was able to touch the bottom of the bath and allow her hair to soak. As she sat up Susan Middleton offered to shampoo it, Susan Templeton gratefully answering yes.

After washing herself Susan Templeton pulled the plug and stepped out and was handed her towel by her housemate.

"When you've dried your hair, do you want me to brush it out for you?"

"I'd love that, can I do yours?"

I'd love that too."

"Follow me then,"

The two dressing gowned women went into the front bedroom. After taking turns to dry each others hair, they brushed it out, leaving it looking burnished and shiny. They hugged as they looked in the mirror, heads side by side, agreeing that each had done a good job. They separated and Susan Middleton went to her own bedroom to dress. Downstairs they ate a frugal breakfast, went to clean their teeth, then met again in the lounge.

"Do you fancy taking a walk round the town, I mean I know we should attend church but it's such a lovely day, we could just amble about and do some window shopping?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea, lets go, I'm quite excited by the prospect of wandering round town whilst others are praying for redemption. I'll feel like a wanton stray, lost to God's fold."

"Oh very poetic, come on let's do this."

They donned coats and hats, each sliding a hatpin through their hair and the hat, before walking out together. At the pavement Miss Middleton offered her arm, which Miss Templeton took and they wandered into the town centre arm in arm. In the 1940's women strolling arm in arm wasn't unheard of and carried no alternative sexual connotations, so no one took any notice of them. They walked slowly and stopped often to peer into shop windows, where they would offer each other comments on the items on display.

"Goodness me, can you believe the price of that armchair, is that really worth..."

"I love the colour of that skirt, do you think it would suit me..."

"A holiday in Torquay, how wonderful, not that you would get anywhere near the beach, what with all the barbed wire and tank traps..."

"I've read that book, it was jolly good, do you read much..."

They wandered along and arm in arm enjoyed the others company. The sun rose higher and the warm rays brought them to the tea shop, which alone of all the other shops was open. Inside where it was warm and cosy, they found a table for two and sat. An elderly lady came over and took their order, returning with a large pot of tea, two cups and saucers. Milk and sugar were already set out on the table, milk in a jug, sugar in a bowl. The bowl was very low on sugar, but as neither partook, it didn't matter to them, so they sat and drank their tea with a little milk. They sat in silent contemplation. Afterwards they left and again joined arms to walk, again in silent contemplation, back home. Once inside, coats and bonnets hung on the hook in the hall, they sat side by side on the sofa. It had been a donation by an old aunt and bore the marks of a generations use. It sagged in the middle and the arms were worn thin. But in this era, that was a situation most families endured. Apart from the sofa, facing the fire, there was a small table, covered in a cloth with an embroidered table cloth over it in a triangular arrangement, so the the edges were only covered by the under cloth. On this sat three wooden stands, barely an eighth of an inch high, on each stand sat a plant pot, one Aspidistra on the larger of the three, a Swiss cheese plant on the intermediate holder and a small Christmas cactus on the smallest.

Two high backed straight leg chairs sat in either corner. On the wall above one hung a dark wooden framed mirror, suspended by a long brass chain held up by a nail driven into the wall above it. On the opposite wall was a very ancient watercolour, whose paint had cracked and crusted, the veneer crackled like a broken mirror. This had appeared curtesy of an uncle of Andrew's, who had found it in an attic in his Suffolk home and thought it would do as an engagement present instead of purchasing something new. It also was held by the same style brass chain as the mirror. Behind the objects was a fairly standard regency stripe wallpaper, marching round each wall and cut into the window space. The fireplace was of standard construction with a thick wooden mantlepiece above the opening and panelled stone slabs on each side, inserted into which were tiles depicting bucolic scenes. The grate was filled with coal and kindling, yet to be lit this year. Finishing the tableau was a small fireguard sat in the hearth to the left and on the opposite side, the coal tongs, small shovel, brush and poker, hung on a round brass column about eighteen inches high. Beside this was a predictably brass coal scuttle, filled with coal, ready to replace that in the grate when it had been consumed. The scuttle was impressed with scenes of coal mining, men with picks, coal wagons, coal heaps all spiralling up from the bottom to the top.

"Susan, when did Andrew die?"

"He died on the beachhead, one of the first to go down, a colleague sent a letter, describing his death to his parents. Wanted to let them know he died a hero, drawing fire so his men could make it to cover. Apparently he's mentioned in despatches, which means he may be awarded a posthumous medal."

"Oh! Ernie died as he stepped ashore, walked off the Landing Ship and took a bullet straightaway, he was the lead man. The letter from the Ministry said he sacrificed his life for others. I bloody wish he'd not done it at all."

Susan Middleton shrugged and realised she was moments away from tears.

"Silly buggers aren't we," Susan Templeton tried to smile, to stop her own tears.

"We need to do something, we need to lift ourselves up, somehow."

"Well the Ladies Church Group are holding a tea dance tonight, seven thirty in the Scout Hut. We could go there, dress up a bit, kick our heels up and try to give ourselves a little lift."

"That's a capital idea, let's do that."

They had a small lunch of cheese and bread, drank tea and ate an apple. Later they planned their evening, helping each other with their hair and makeup. After a very light supper of vegetable stew, with rather sketchy dumplings, which consisted mostly of plain flour and salt, they washed up and began to prepare. They both chose dresses which stopped just below their knees, one blue, one green, stockings again as it was an important occasion and black court shoes with a small heel. Coats on, arms linked they almost skipped into the town and across the green to the Scout Hut.

Inside, having paid their three pence entrance fee, all profits going to the War Fund, they enjoyed a concoction which masqueraded as fruit punch, but seemed to consist of mostly apple with the odd pear thrown in. A quartet of elderly players, drummer, guitarist, Double bassist and trumpeter, lazily tossed out tunes both vintage and current. Couples swayed and swished across the floor, enjoying an evening out. Now that the invasion had begun the threat of air raids had receded and led to more entertainment outlets opening. The couples, husbands and wives were mostly elderly as all the eligible young men were away fighting. Other women in groups of three's and fours, drifted in and began to dance together, at ease with themselves, drifting over the floor with smiles and grins.

"Dance with me?"

"I'd Love too."

They giggled and tried to work out who would lead, arms wrapping around each other. Eventually they agreed and stepped onto the floor as a lively number began. Kicking up their heels they entered the floor at a gallop and whooshed round the floor, laughing heartily as the mood, the dance and the music enthused them. They continued number after number, until late in the evening a slow number commenced. Somehow though, they didn't separate and slowly moved round the floor in a steady waltz, meshing with the other couples. At the end they hugged each other before leaving the floor. Collecting their coats and handbags they linked arms and stepped out into the cooler air outside. Shivering each stopped and pulled their coats on and buttoned them up. Quickly they pressed into each other's sides, arms linked together again. They soon made it back to their home and stepped smartly inside. In the hall they hung their coats up and slightly shivering went into the lounge. Inside, Miss Templeton turned to Miss Middleton and without thought, pulled her into a hug. Their heads rested on each others shoulders. Breaking the hug they looked at each other and said their goodnights. Each withdrew to their bedrooms and undressed and put on their serviceable nightwear, before cleaning their teeth and washing quickly.

The following morning, being a Monday they each prepared for work, wishing each other a good day as they parted on the pavement outside the house. Miss Templeton arrived at her office and began to prepare the briefs for her boss, opening the mail and getting his cup of tea ready. Promptly at eight thirty am, Mr Nobbs, the Secretary to the Council,, entered, gave Miss Templeton a nod, his bowler hat and coat, then sat at his desk, took a sip of tea and plunged into his mail. At four minutes to eleven she entered to remind him of the extra meeting with the Planning Department, he had requested, was imminent. He nodded, grunted and rose, leaving her alone in his office. Later he returned in a foul mood, screamed at her in frustration demanding from her coffee immediately. It was a normal Monday for her, his outbursts were legendary, voluble and quickly dissipated. She waited for his ire to subside, took his coffee in and was treated to his voluminous and abject apology. She just nodded, placed his cup down, accepted the letters annotated in his handwriting and left to type up the responses. Later she would return to the inner office, deposit the letters, in duplicate and wait for him to buzz her in to collect those which he signed, and those on which he had scribbled his amendments. To her credit the number on which he scribbled amendments had reduced to barely one or two a day, such was her efficiency and knowledge. She used well worn phrases that he preferred, although they were stale and hackneyed. She could mimic his style with grace and ease and it earned her feint praise, which she accepted. Later after he left she tidied up, locked his desk, his room, then her own small cupboard of a room. She found her hat and coat, tied a scarf at her throat.

Meanwhile Miss Middleton arrived for work at the greengrocers where she was employed. Her day consisted of sweeping the pavement outside the shop, sweeping the shop floor, lugging the heavy boxes of meagre fruit and vegetables, such as they were, into the street to lean against the front wall below the window level. She made tea for the owners and served in the shop. Her tiny lunch of a slice of bread and a very thin wedge of cheese was taken at one thirty. Then she would replenish the display, if their were supplies and sweep the floor again. At four thirty they began closing down. She reversed the opening procedure. Stacking the boxes by the counter, ready for the next day. If Mr Higgins was feeling generous he allowed her to take two apples or pears for her tea with Miss Templeton. Anything else was a luxury and had to be paid for. She hadn't seen a banana in two years, soft fruit was seasonal and in short supply. Finally at five pm she was allowed to remove her apron and leave, Mr Higgins locking the door behind her.

At home, they moved with ease to make themselves as wholesome a meal as their rations allowed. After eating they washed up and sat together on the sofa in the lounge to listen to the BBC Home Service, playing a mix of live and recorded music. At around nine thirty they had the final drink of the evening and rinsed the cups and saucers before locking up. Upstairs they performed their nightly rituals before hopping into bed. For some unfathomable reason, since that first tea dance, they had slept together, like sisters. They fell instantly asleep, undisturbed until the alarm woke them ready for the new day. Later in the war, they would be disturbed by the Air Raid Sirens screaming their warnings and relocate to their shelter, under the kitchen table, piled up with their bedclothes, gas masks by the corner, ready just in case. On a few occasions there had been bombing locally, which saw the two holding each other tightly as the explosions caused deep rumbles in the ground. One night a bomb went off perilously close and the house shook and trembled as small motes of dust and plaster showering down from the ceilings. The following day a pall of smoke and a pile of rubble denoted the point of impact, the end house in the row in which they lived. All the family members however, were safe having decamped to the underground Anderson Shelter in the garden. They were later to be found at the church hall, as the local officials tried to find them alternative housing, sitting on camp beds, a mug of tea in hand.

Miss Middleton and Miss Templeton thought long and hard about their circumstances and agreed to take in children left orphaned by the war. By the end of hostilities in 1945 they had fostered a total of fourteen children, before each was found a permanent home with other family members or under the adoption schemes of the time. The children were brought up in a calm matriarchal home and blossomed under the care and love of the two spinsters. They learned on the job, as it were, gradually working out strategies and actions to provide a safe and stable home for the displaced youngsters. The leaving of a child was a soul wrenching time for the ladies but they were soon mollified by another refugee from the disaster of war. After the conflict ended and the last of the children were dispatched the ladies felt a profound sense of loss. They clung to each other more than ever. Crying into the night, hugging each other and feeling desolate at the lack of noise and bustle that means a child's presence. They slept fitfully and would often awake unrefreshed and unfulfilled. As soon as they could and regulations allowed, they took a weeks holiday together, a delightful canal journey. During this time they learned to navigate a narrow boat along canals and river ways.

Returning home in the late autumn they were soon back into the bustle and noise of the town, something which each secretly hated. They talked at length and eventually decided that what they both wanted was a small village, where they could relax and pursue new ventures. They scouted newspapers and visited the library to obtain information. At last an opportunity appeared, a small village in the depths of Wiltshire had a need to find someone to take over a local bakery cum shop. They went on a visit and fell in love with Slocumbe, a quaint tiny hamlet, with no transport service, bus or rail to the major town of Barchester. Despite the secluded nature of the collection of farm cottages and the shop they took the lease. They then began the relocation. As they rented there were few possessions that they needed to bring. It was mostly clothing a small library of books a valve radio and standard lamp with a shade. They packed it up and hired a remover to transport them. Besides the rental of the shop, the removers costs wiped out the last of any savings they had. The shop hadn't been open for two months so they set about cleaning and tidying it ready fro the re-opening. They worked into the night and were up early the next morning to begin the process of bread making. Wartime restrictions had been lifted, although many items remained in short supply. Notwithstanding this the ladies opened to the world on a Monday morning in August and were met with some scepticism by the locals. Word spread however and soon the shop was the centre of the hamlet. The ladies worked hard and ensured, as far as they could, that they stocked the goods that the local populace required. The locals began to co mix their names until they became known as the Misses Twiddleton, which when the two found out amused them greatly.

After two years they felt that they had settled in and in a burst of mirth and laughter they renamed the bakery / shop as "Twiddleton's", which made their neighbours roar with laughter when the sign was unveiled. The life suited both women and they became fully integrated into the community. They were always ready to help no matter what the task and their broad backs and tireless energy at Harvest time was much appreciated. The local church was grateful for their voices at Services and largesse at Harvest Time. They knitted bonnets and bootees for babies, provided Birthday and Wedding Cakes, generally making themselves welcome throughout. In nineteen fifty seven they celebrated ten years of opening and the village organised a dance in their honour. It was held in the church hall and everyone seemed to be there. Five surprise guests also appeared. Foster children from their previous life, now adults with family of their own. Their reception was a time of laughter and tears, the two ladies, holding and crying in joy at their reunion.

In nineteen sixty nine Susan Middleton fell ill, now approaching sixty, she felt listless and constantly tired. Her body ached and she was covered in sweat as her body grew smaller, except for her abdomen. Her doctor sent her to a consultant and after barium meal x-ray it was confirmed that she had cancer, it was inoperable, the prognosis was terminal. She retired to bed, attended by her partner. They had an assistant now and she was taking up the slack created by Susan Middletons illness. On the thirtieth of May nineteen fifty eight Susan closed her eyes for the last time and holding Susan Templeton's hand slipped away at six pm. The funeral was carried out at their church and she was laid to rest in the churchyard under a simple stone that read; Susan Middleton Beloved Friend, Baker, Foster mother. 26th November 1911 - 30th May 1969. Rest in peace thou true and faithful friend. Forever loved. All but two of her foster children were able to make the service, supporting a distraught Susan Templeton. After a wake in the church hall, most made their way home, a few stayed locally to ensure Susan Templeton was cared for.

In nineteen seventy two Susan Templeton retired and began a novel which told the story of her meeting and subsequent life with her partner Susan Middleton. It became an instant success, giving her the funds to secure a peaceful life thereafter. She passed away at the age of ninety four, leaving her book and a small flourishing Bakery cum Shop in a quiet hamlet. She lies buried next to her friend with the headstone reading; Susan Templeton, 1st June 1911 - 30th September 2005, Dearest Friend and Partner of Susan Middleton, Baker, Foster Mother. Peace at last, reunited in death. Forever Loved.

The headstone was paid for by the foster children in gratitude for the lives they had been given by the two women buried together. No one objected to the wording in fact the village treasured the memory of the two women who had contributed so much to sustaining village life. The area around the headstones was kept tidy and fresh flowers regularly appeared over the years. The foster children and later their children would gather once a year in mid June to celebrate the lives and loves of two such amazing women. The Bakery changed hands two or three times since but the name always remained. A clause in each of the sales always stipulated that the name "Twiddleton's" must remain, all who bought were happy to keep the name.