I was demobilised from a fleet station in Scotland in Dingwall near Perth in Oct 1945 (I managed to get Marcella up there for a few weeks as we awaited movement east, living in a small house in the village and borrowing two bicycles, investigated a few hills and valleys) and, not exactly sober, arrived at an old barracks in York at 5am, then by lorry to the demob centre, arriving in Leeds, tired, bewildered, and still suffering post indulgency naval rum from the farewell routine, and yes, fed up. The large cardboard box, famous with it's green string, contained my new grey tweed suit, shoes, socks, trilby hat, shirt, tie, underwear, and not all of which were a good fit, the hat in particular, and to which Marcella had an instant dislike.I worked for about six months with AV Roe, the Lancaster builders in Yeadon near Leeds having thus embarked reluctantly as I did not qualify for further education with no Leaving Certificate but also that we wondered where the money would come from to support now three of us. We lived with Marcella's parents who were absolutely tops, supportive and kind, but I loathed the job, 7am start and ten miles away, and the workers there who were relatively rich on civilian bonus warwork and who, being ritual repetitive operatives knew next to nothing about aircraft and flying. I, of course, was in the pains of rehabilitation and looking generally for a job with better prospects.We were rich to the tune of about 75 pounds accrued from Marcella's earlier war work and I was earning about five pounds per week. After 5 years and 9 months in uniform, I collected the vast sum of about 80 pounds.