Why visit the cinema in Swindon on two consecutive Saturdays? The advertised film on the second Saturday starred Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, which was a must-see. This wasn't a re-run, this was my premiere.
I had just bought new shoes and walked from my digs to the Malmesbury railway station.
The train went via a single line to Little Somerford, where it joined the main Bristol to Paddington line. I anticipated afternoon tea in Swindon, the new film and return by the same route.
The film was well worth the visit but I can't remember now which of the 3 war-released 'road' films was shown that day. Was it Singapore, Zanzibar or Morocco? A quick look at the cinema clock indicated it was time to leave for the station and the journey back to Malmesbury. Then disaster struck. Producing my ticket at Swindon station I was informed 'No more trains to Malmesbury'. It was like John Cleese's speech loss at the station in Clockwise.
The fact that I had caught a train at this exact time last week was irrelevant. Greenwich Mean Time had edged out the British Summer Time railway timetable. What should I do? I decided to walk home, without realising how far it was (17 miles). All the street and road junction signs had been removed to avoid assistance to the enemy in the event of an invasion I thought there was a possibility of getting a lift by car. This turned out to be wildly optimistic. Petrol, of course, was restricted to essential users and only a few cars were on the road.
Looking back instinct alone helped me find the way by road to Malmesbury, as I had never taken this route. It was a dark night, but warm. The main road had no footpath and pedestrians shared the road with traffic.
With a large hedgerow on my left there was suddenly a loud cough, which caused me to jump a foot or so in the air. Now I can say this was not human- it was a cow. I was tiring.
When I arrived outside Cowbridge House and the hill up to the town was an effort. I trudged out of Malmesbury centre on the other side to Filands.
At last reaching home the crunch of pebbles, leading up to the front door must have alerted dear Mr Tracy. With my key in the door his voice from upstairs asked sympathetically, 'is that you Leonard? What has happened?'
'I've walked all the way from Swindon'.
'Go to bed then and I will make you a cup of tea'
After a very long sleep and only when fully awake did I realise that I had sculpted a very large blister on each heel. Later, inspecting my new shoes these were wrecked by sweat lines across the instep. I had to admit it had been more walking than in any 'Road' film.
