Bentham Station

I gave Milly a lift to the station, this morning. On the way there we swung by her mum's old house in Low Bottom. We had a look at it from the outside and had a little chat about what a lovely place it had been for her and all her siblings - not just my daughters - to grow up. 

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what it was about - part of moving onwards, perhaps - but I was glad to be with her whatever the reason. And she seemed cheerful enough as we drove 'round to Bentham Station.

I like this little station, out in the middle of nowhere, on the route between Morecambe and Leeds, which mercifully evaded Dr Beeching's misguided activities. We were a few minutes early and had a little potter about and a chat on the platform, briefly addressing Milly's light-hearted anxiety about how likely the train wheels are to come off the rails.

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No scales
Reading: 'The Vanishing Half' by Brit Bennett