the linen sheets, and starch for the men’s detachable shirt collars. A flat iron was heated up on the fire or gas stove. It must have taken hours to iron the Monday washing.
I remember Grandad in the scullery, smoking his pipe in his favourite chair beside the fire, listening to the wireless whilst Grandma prepared the midday meal in the kitchen. After Grandma finished doing the washing up, she went upstairs and refreshed herself. She would change into her best clothes and put on her rings and lipstick for the afternoon tea at four o’clock. Grandad and I waited for her in the front room. Grandad smoked his pipe and read the Daily Express newspaper. Grandma would sit with me on the settee and knit and we would chat away until Mrs Dale’s Diary came on the wireless. Mrs Dale was a country doctor’s wife. The program was on for a quarter of an hour every weekday afternoon. We had to be quiet whilst Mrs Dale was on. Normally, I would have to return to school after our midday lunch then come home at teatime to a lovely warm fire and my tea ready to be served. The greatest thing I remember about Grandma was her lovely dinners and homemade puddings. It was a lovely, secure feeling and I was very happy. I felt my life was perfect.
Christmases were lovely. I never received a lot of presents but loved the few I did have. I usually received books like Gulliver’s Travels, The Wind in the Willows and Enid Blyton books, which I loved reading. I also received colouring books and jigsaw puzzles. One Christmas I received a doll and pram. I played with them over Christmas then once the novelty wore off I never bothered with them again. My bike was a different matter. I loved riding it. My other favourites were my whip and top. I loved playing outdoors for hours with my friends—ball games, skipping, hopscotch, tick, and my all time favourite game hide-and-seek. There was never a shortage of fun and laughter.
I remember one Christmas when someone dressed up in a Santa suit with a long beard and red coat. The fake Santa came into my bedroom accompanied by a couple of giggling grown-ups, shushing one another, trying not to wake me. Santa then filled my Christmas pillowcase with presents. But unbeknown to them I was wide awake with my head partly under the pillow in case I giggled too. It was rather funny but also a little sad. Santa didn’t really exist after all and the make-believe world of my childhood came to a sudden end.
My mother gave birth on February 1 1941 to a son, John Anthony. It seems she was in a relationship although I have no recollection of this. John only found out who his father was when he was in his fifties. I was only six years old when he was born. From what I can recall, my little brother had big rosy cheeks, a great smile, and never seemed to cry as much as other babies.
In March 1942 Betty and Sid were married at St. John the Baptist Church in Clarendon Park Road. She was dressed in a simple suit and blouse, hat, gloves and a spray of flowers on her lapel. He wore a navy suit. We all thought it was a lovely service. Once home Grandma had organised a small reception complete with the wedding cake she made especially for the happy couple, making it a perfect day.
Grandma and Grandad refurbished two rooms in the attic for the newlyweds. When they returned from the honeymoon, we fell back into a routine. Every day, we all sat down at one o’clock for dinner— even the workers came home. I remember standing on the chair in the front room and looking through the bay window, waiting for their arrival. I would watch them get off the tram at the top of the street, then I would run into Grandma excitedly shouting, ‘they’re here, they’re here’.
Uncle Sid was discharged from the RAF in 1943 because his hearing was damaged by the noise of constant gunfire and bombing. He then took a job as a chief electrician. Uncle Sid and Auntie Betty had their first and only child—a little girl named Julia. We all continued to live together until Julia was two years old and Betty and Sid decided they wanted a home of their own. Having a young child running around was not easy with all of us in the house. Space was definitely going to be a problem if we all stayed together.
When the war finally ended in 1945, the whole street held a celebration party. A feast of sandwiches, jelly blancmange and cakes was spread on long tables decorated with Union Jack flags. We all wore party hats. Everyone was just so happy that the war was all over. People could now plan their futures. Gradually, life began to get back to normal. The blackout on the windows was taken down, streets became bright again and week by week the shops started to fill up with products we had not seen for years. I was ten years old and had never seen or tasted a banana, eggs or sweets. To the delight of the female population some types of clothing such as nylon stockings also appeared on the shelves.
Britain’s servicemen who served in the war were gradually demobbed. For many, it took a while to adjust to normal family life and to resume relationships. Being apart from their menfolk for six years or more put a huge strain on some families. Some managed to work through it successfully. Sadly, many ended up divorced or separated. Most kids did not even recognise their own fathers, often seeing them as strangers, sometimes rebelling and getting into trouble with the law. Many even joined the army as soon as they were old enough. For a great many of England’s newest war veterans, being home meant nightmares and sleeping problems. The trauma of war caused post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) for some however this condition was not properly diagnosed till years later. For some veterans, coming home meant lots of dancing, late-night parties and going to the cinema. They enjoyed life to the fullest, maybe more so because they were so happy to be away from the war and living their lives on the edge for so long.
There was a new trend for migration in the national papers with employers advertising for skilled people to work abroad. The salaries allured people, being significantly higher than those offered in England. There were also other benefits such as housing, which had become short in Britain. Jobs abroad interested many people including my uncle Sid who applied for one as an electrician. In 1948 he was accepted but unfortunately the position was in Durban, South Africa. It stunned the family, but we knew it was for the best. The long trip from Southampton to Durban took them twelve weeks. We missed them terribly.
Chapter 4
My mother always worked in an office. Her job was doing the wages, the bookkeeping and the accounts. She was always in demand. There weren’t many people with her knowledge and experience who were so loyal to their employer. She loved this type of work, especially if the bookkeeping wasn’t up to scratch. Whenever she started a new job which involved sorting out a bookkeeping mess, she was in her element.
Because she was good at her job, Mum was offered top money, earning more money than most men earn. At home in the evenings, she also did the bookkeeping for other small businesses. I helped her file things to one side as she finished them. I also learned from her. When she typed a business letter, I watched. It helped me with my English schoolwork.
Mum once took a new job at a garage. The garage was nearer to where we lived and she was sick of travelling on the bus—sadly the trams were now gone. She could now walk home. After a couple of years passed, she started seeing the garage owner, Paddy. She was madly in love with him. After going out together for a year or more, Mum and Paddy decided they wanted to live together so he moved in with us. I was told he was my ‘new daddy’. I never liked him from day one; I did not like his attitude or his table manners. He slobbered when he ate.
One evening I was home a bit late. I had been at my friend’s house just down the road for a play. We got carried away with our game as children do. When I arrived home, maybe half an hour late, he was waiting for me with his belt off. I knew I was in for it. He grabbed me and pulled me over his knee as I struggled and kicked my legs. Then he really embarrassed me as he attempted to pull down my knickers and belted me across my bottom. It was very painful and left me with nasty red welts. After that, he belted me on several more occasions, each time for an even more trivial reason. I think he enjoyed it and I hated him even more each time it happened.
As we only had one bedroom, I slept in Mum’s bed. This didn’t change when Paddy came to live with us. I slept in the middle so I would not get disturbed. My baby brother John slept in his cot in the same room. He looked very peaceful as he slept, all tucked in safe and secure. I hated sleeping with them, especially on a Sunday morning when Mum and Paddy didn’t go to work. Mum would always get up