Why
Stalybridge was chosen is not known but probably a post in service had been
obtained and there they were. The younger brother Harry was found employment on
a farm in Matley. Elizabeth was barely eighteen at the time and Harry a year
younger. She was a hard-working girl having known no other kind of life, slim
with dark hair and brown eyes, hair brushed back from the face and a centre
parting. She had a strong sense of fun and never lost her Cambridgeshire accent
throughout her life and it must have sounded strange to the Stalybridge people.
Soon after arriving she met CHARLES MARSH. He had recently lost his wife
leaving him with two sons Nathen and John. Charles's wife had been bedridden
for many years with a form of paralysis which had left her with no use of her
lower limbs. The doctor who had attended her suggested to Charles, no doubt
having Charles' age in mind, that he take another wife and emphasised that she
be a young one, no doubt bearing in mind the two young children with which he
was left and having in mind also Charles' age for he was then past forty. Tall
with blue eyes and a good complexion, he was always good company, a very
moderate drinker and he had a remarkable resemblance to the then popular
politician William Gladstone. Elizabeth and Charles were eventually married at
Church on and went to live in a cottage in Matley together with the two sons of
Charles' earlier marriage. In time, Elizabeth gave birth to seven children: JAMES,
GRACE, HELEN, IRVIN, MARY, ELIZABETH, AND ALICE. All fine healthy children with
dark hair of their mother and brown eyes and although the younger end of the
family had not the stamina of the earlier born, they were all fine children and
gave no trouble. The boys, being born soon after each other were great friends
all fond of nature and the usual escapades of young boys with their mutual
interests in birds nesting etc.
[June Parsons added that on Grace's birth on the 29th May, her dad put a bough of oak leaves on the door of the room where she was born. The date is oak apples day but the main reason was that he was so delighted to have a girl.]
JAMES MARSH
the eldest of the children was a bright lad and the only one of the boys to
show any interest in the use of his hands. He was eventually apprenticed to a
local firm of engineers Taylor and Lang who had big works in Stalybridge at the
side of the canal. He was very skilful and had one or two minor inventions to
his credit. Elizabeth had a favourite child it was surely Jim; he had her
colouring, full of fun and a lovely face but it must be admitted he had a
violent temper when roused, but he was always industrious and seldom out of
work. He met and married Mary Anna Baxter, the daughter of a local coal
merchant Harry Baxter and they went to live in a small house in Stalybridge.
There came in quick succession three children, Percy, Alice, and Harry, they
too had the colouring of their parents and with the long straight nose of their
grandfather Charles.
Jim was
very dissatisfied with his poor circumstances and seeing better prospects in
South Africa now that the Boer War was finished, tried very hard to obtain a
post in his trade in the mining industry in South Africa which at that time was
booming but money for the fare was a problem. One wonders why the parent Baxter
was not forthcoming for it would have meant comparatively nothing to him for
his circumstances were infinitely better than most at the time although the
coal business doubtlessly had its ups and downs or it may be that the two had previously
been of loggerheads, for Jim would stand no nonsense from anyone. Eventually,
Jim approached his mother, not for a loan, for her circumstances were as bad as
anyone’s – Charles had lost his employment through a disastrous strike in the
weaving trade – but for her to stand guarantor for a loan. Jim himself leaving
the country was a poor proposition to repay any loan. Elizabeth tells the story
"One day I put on my best apron and went to see Seth Bradbury. He was very
kind and I got a loan of twenty pounds for my Jim".
Life for
Elizabeth was far from pleasant at this time. After becoming unemployed,
Charles never worked again: age and the times were against him. The only family
income was that which was brought in by the children so it is easy to see that
as the children left home one by one to get married there was a continual
diminishing of income and instead of a marriage producing joy for everyone, it
was a matter of sorrow.
Grace got
married about this time that for months the atmosphere in the home was dreadful,
and on the morning of her wedding day after returning home from making one or
two purchases of domestic nature from Ashton Market, on enquiring for lunch she
was met with the remark "there is some cold rice pudding in the
kitchen". Perhaps that is why Grace was often heard to say that "cold
rice pudding is good for love-sick folk". So, it is easy to see the burden
which was placed on Elizabeth and repaying that loan as there was bound to be
an obvious lapse of time before Jim could send money back to his mother so
Elizabeth took the only way out which was open to working men’s wives in times
of hardship, she took in washing which she attacked with vigour.
Jim duly
arrived in South Africa and soon obtained employment in the mining industry at
his trade. Gold mining was booming and employment for skilled men was easy and
wages were good. Jim sent home money to his wife and to his mother. For his
wife to save the money for the eventual journey to South Africa, but Mary Ann
had other ideas, for apparently, she had no intention of leaving her parents
and friends in Stalybridge for an unknown life in South Africa, and as she one
day confided to her sister-in-law Grace, “I have no intention of crossing the
water". It would have been far better had she had told Jim this earlier on;
why she did not will never be known. It may have been the fear of Jim's bad
temper or it may have been a moral weakness for Mary Anna was very easy going (this
may have attracted her to Jim in the first place for they were completely
opposite to one another) but it was the start of a lot of unhappiness all
round. Of course, in a small town like Stalybridge it wasn't long before Jim
became aware of what was going on and his wife’s lack of intention of joining
him in his new life and the money ceased forthwith. Jim later made a bigamous
marriage in Durban and raised another family. This was disclosed after Mary
Anna and her son Percy enlisted the services of the SaIvation Army in tracing missing
relatives. Much has been made of this distasteful story of Jims apparent desertion
of his wife and family, but the tale just unfolded is the hidden story and the
truth and it has never been previously told. Mary Ann, ere she died, told the
writer that she had no reproaches to Jim for in her own words "he was good
to me whilst I had him".
GRACE MARSH
married Samuel Smalley, a journey man grocer employed by the Stalybridge
Cooperative Society and he eventually became a branch manager. The were married
at St. Pauls Church Stalybridge and went first to live in Huddersfield Road and
later in Kinder Street before moving to the Fylde Coast. After marriage, Grace
never worked at her trade as a weaver but continued to work as a housewife,
bringing up her four children Cyril, Phyllis, Grace and Philip. Like all the
Marshes, Grace was artistic by nature and particularly skilled in the use of
the needle and although entirely self-taught, she could execute the cutting and
finishing of all garments. Sam Smalley was, like his wife a child of a family
of seven children, all like himself, hard working and of good stock, four
brothers and three sisters, all eventually married with the exception of two
sisters Amelia and Sara Ann, so named after her mother. Sara Ann was born with
one leg shorter than the other and wore a club foot. The two sisters looked
together in the family home in Willbrook, working as dressmakers and at this
they made a successful business. Father and mother together with the two
sisters were all buried at St. James Church Willbrook.
IRVIN MARSH
was extremely handsome and a well-known heartbreaker, and it was said that a
local girl Lottie Collins died through pining for him, for he married Rhode
Hinchcliffe, a girl from Salford. They later went to live in Sale. Irvin worked
in the offices of the Manchester Ship Canal until 1917 when he was struck down
with consumption from which he never recovered leaving a widow and one son
Harry.
HELEN MARSH
married Jack Crabtree in 1914 and soon after he had to join the services and
served throughout the war, returning home safely. Marriage was never a very
happy one and they were later divorced. Helen later married Tom Connely from
which there was one daughter Irene.
HARRY MARSH,
after a short period fighting in South Africa where he contracted Enteric Fever
and was invalided out, married Margaret Stanley, the only daughter of a family
builders. There were four children, all independent thinkers. Harry's wife “Maggie”
became a school teacher and taught all her working life at Christ Church School
Stalybridge where she was well-known and respected. Harry worked as a cashier
in the old S.H.M.D. offices. Artistic by nature and an amateur artist of some
small distinction, he exhibited many works in pastel at the local Free Library
Art Gallery. He was responsible too for that remarkable advertisement which ran
for years on the back of "11 tram tickets issued by the S.H.N.D. Tramways
which read “A RIDE FOR NOTHING” but a closer scrutiny between the bold words
revealed a description of the beauties of the district which could be seen from
the tram ride to the outlying parts of the town. Maggie shared her husband’s
interests and it was a fairly happy marriage. There was one child Lena. She too
inherited the artistic abilities of her parents. Harry was extremely kind to
his mother in her later years for he was the only one who was able to
contribute a modest sum to ease her aging years and give her a degree of
comfort. Harry died of consumption in 1930.
ELIZABETH
MARSH married Edward Duxberry, a clerk employed in the Cotton Warehousing in
Manchester. He died later of thrombosis early in their married life. There were
no children from the union and, as they had never set up a home, they lived
with her mother in Crumpsall. She carried on her employment in Warehousing in
Manchester until the Slump finished off the business when they moved to a
Council House on the Ridge Hill Estate Stalybridge and in this house Elizabeth
the Elder died in 1933. There were only the immediate family at the funeral and
after a life of continual toil and near poverty, she was buried at New St.
Georges. Her daughter Elizabeth shortly after through a mutual acquaintance
corresponded with a widower in Canada and in 1935, she set sail for her new
life where she married "Bob" and acquired and ready-made son.
ALICE MARSH
the youngest child was particularly lucky from birth, always the pretty one she
captivated all around her. Unassuming, witty and vivacious even at an early age,
she attracted the attention of a young school teacher Patrick Brien who
befriended her, bought her a piano and paid for lessons and generally behaved
like she was his adopted daughter which suited Alice and the family for there
was no guile in Patrick. They went on many holidays together with his friends
to Blackpool and elsewhere. When Alice was eighteen old, as pretty as a picture,
she met Harold Broderick, a rising Cotton Broker working at the Manchester
Exchange and after a whirlwind courtship they were secretly married for almost
year before she broke the news to her mother. A son Donald was born soon after
but Alice's delicate health prevented further children, soon after she showed
symptoms of consumption but a short spell in Switzerland cleared up this
disease and they settled for a time in Gatley Cheshire later lived in Church
Stretton. Alice died in 1950 after a full and exciting life. She gave pleasure
to all who met her.
My memories
of Father unfortunately are not all that numerous. I was only 20 years of age
when he died in 1941 when I was in the Navy, and prior to that I seemed to see
very little of him. He always seemed to be working at the shop and busy with
customers and when he was home in the evening, he would fall asleep in the
chair. As with Ronnie Barker in "All Hours" the shop was his life and
he not only had Ronnie Barker's attitude to shop-keeping, he had his tan
coloured overall on as well.
A quiet
thoughtful man with his own set of principles, not a man to go out of his way
to find trouble, very hard working and popular with his customers and traders
and mighty careful with the pennies.
I recall an
incident that caused him some disquiet. He had discovered that the gas ring in
the back room at the shop could be turned down low and the meter wouldn't tick
over and register and so he could simmer and cook his pots of marmalade, boiled
beetroot and jam when trade was slack for "free". When the meter was
due to be read, he would make sure that a respectful amount of figures showed
up on the meter, to allay any query. Unfortunately, he had a short period away
from the shop due to either a short holiday or illness, and the meter got read
without the "priming" taking place, whereupon with the meter showing
almost nil, the meter men did a check on the apparatus and that put an end to
Father's joyful free jam making.
Born in
1880, he and Mother married in around 1905, Cyril being born in 1906. He was a
senior hand at the Co-Operative store in and around Ashton and Stalybridge for
many years and eventually a manager. Mother was an excellent needlewoman and
talented in the making of hats.
During the
first world war Father was managing a branch in Stalybridge. Certain foodstuffs
were in short supply and Sam suspected that some pilfering was taking place
among the shop staff. I've always thought it interesting how he dealt with
this. Not only were goods in short supply but good shop staff also, and this
would have added to his natural reluctance to the job of sacking anyway. One
day when all the staff were at lunch, he went through their coat pockets and
bags and put all the packets of tea etc. back on the shelves and said nothing
to anybody. The guilty ones knew they had been given a warning and another
chance and it put a stop to the offence.
I don't
know whether it was due to perhaps some estrangement that they were going
through at the time or whether it was an ambitious desire on Mother's part, but
just before I was due to be born Mother made the decision to rent a shop in St
Annes on the coast and start up a Milliners shop. It was I understand a fair
success but I don't think it lasted much more than three or four years, during
which time I was born. I recall some talk of hired help in the house to look
after me and Grace so things were on a slightly different plane than to life in
Stalybridge. It was at this time that Sam decided to quit his job at the Co-op
and up sticks and join Mother at the coast. I suppose he thought he could get
himself a job of some kind and with Mother running a seemingly successful shop
in a smart area of "Select" St Annes it could be a nice cruise.
However,
the good times weren't to continue as the "Twenties" moved into
difficult times and a big recession caused havoc everywhere. So, my first real
memories are of Blackpool and of moving house approximately every two years.
I recall
Father having a job in the season at a "Penny Arcade" on the
promenade and of him doing a job as a chef in a hotel on the front at North
shore Blackpool; how true that is I've no idea. He wasn't without some cooking
skills but the term "Chef" seems a bit high flown. He was almost
driven in desperation to take on the job of a cook on a fishing trawler at
Fleetwood at one time. When we were at the third move in Alexandra Road South
Shore, Mother took a job selling and canvassing a kind of Lemonade Powder and
very nice it was too. She would go from door to door asking people to sample
the stuff and then get them to put in an order, this was done usually at the
weekends and evenings.
The abode
at Alexandra Road was a large flat which ran over three shops and then round
the corner to take in another shop. A very nice light airy flat with a good
view of the sea and the promenade. The only way into the place was up the side
of the building ascending a set of wooden stairs and then a right turn at the
top and then through the door and straight into a large living room cum
kitchen. When the winter gales were raging once the door was opened, the wind
was quite likely to blow pictures off the wall and once in the street below, to
get up to the Promenade it would be on hands and knees otherwise there was a
great danger of being bowled over by the wind.
At this
time Cyril was working away in Birmingham at his joinery job, so the household
consisted of Mother and Father, Phyllis, Grace, myself and a lodger. We always
seemed to have lodgers, wherever Mother could find a corner she'd get a lodger
to fill it up. The chap we had here was a nice polite Jewish hairdresser by the
name of Newman. If ever we asked him how business was, he would reply "The
Ladies Vonderful, the Gents not so Vonderful".
The flat
was laid out as a series of four rooms, each room over one of each of the four
shops so it was a biggish place but no corridors at all so one walked from room
to room. Mr Newman's room was the very end one.
I recall the
tale of an incident of Mr Newman coming in the late evening and on traversing
through Grace and Phyllis's bedroom found them both sitting down "doing a
penny" and him being a Gentleman raised his hat and with all the aplomb he
could muster said "good evening, ladies". To that they both replied
"good evening, Mr Newman" as though they were just sitting doing
their homework.
One of the
shops down below was a Chemist and as what was quite usual in those days, they
took in developing and printing and proceeded it themselves on the premises. In
the height of the summer we could often hear the "clonk" of the
printing apparatus going on late into the evening as they hurried to get the
day's intake of films dealt with. Little did I know that in years to come I
would be doing the same task. This was in the late "Twenties" just
about the time silent movies were being overtaken by the "talkies". I
well remember Al Jolson in the "Singing Fool" being on at the local
cinema "The Rendezvous".
Somewhere
about this time an aunt of Father's left him some money, probably two or three
hundred pounds which at that time with a man's weekly Wage being between two
and three pounds amounted to an equivalent of thirty thousand pounds in today's
money. With this windfall, Sam decided to go into business and took a lock-up
shop in Dickson Road North Shore. I forget the number but it was on the corner
of Bute Avenue and Dickson. This he would turn into a greengrocers and general
provision store. I would imagine from now on he would be a very happy man, at
last in charge of his own destiny and from where he would work as hard and as
long as he wanted. In the summer, shop would be open from seven in a morning
till ten at night seven days a week, just like today's Pakistani corner shops.
Once again,
we lived above shops, again three shops and round the corner but this time a
much more substantial property with two floors and a total of five or six
bedrooms. Here also we had a lodger a Mr Hartley who was a commissionaire at
the Winter Gardens who was with us all the year round for the period we were at
the dwelling which would have been about three years.
During the summer,
Mother "did" what was called at that time "apartments",
which was a strange arrangement whereby the client had a Bed & Breakfast
deal plus they then brought in their own food for the midday meal which the
landlady would then set about cooking. It was the accepted way of doing things
and not Mother's idea. As I recall Mother wasn't all great shakes as a cook but
she found herself having to deal with several different party’s choice of food
which could amount to ten or twelve dinner plates of food produced from the
same cooker which in retrospect sounds like a recipe for a frustrating time.
However, several people returned the next year so she must have satisfied
somebody. I recall she had a couple from Manchester, a middle-aged Jewish
couple for who she had to cook everything in butter and I'm not sure if it
didn't have to be special butter which they supplied, and this different
cooking smell permeated the whole building. I don't think that Mother was built
for the hard-working life as a seaside landlady and before long she had had
enough of it. Her tummy was beginning to play up and it was back to her diet of
tripe and tomatoes and "Scoffa" bread that I used to have to get from
Yates wine Lodge in Talbot Square.
She did
have a little maid who lived in and helped with the chores and was always
dressed when it came to serving at table in a frilly pinafore and head piece a
la Lyons Corner House. Ivy was a little gem and would also help father in the shop
with me while he went to have some lunch, which in those days and times wasn't
called lunch - it was dinner. It was breakfast, dinner, tea and supper, and
"lunch" didn't enter the vocabulary at all.
Cyril was
by now courting Phyllis and was earning a living as a journeyman joiner. Mother
thought she would get Cyril to make a fold-down table to fit on to the kitchen
wall as the room was a little narrow and would make for more room when folded
down, this was duly done and was a great asset but Mother was a little put out
when Cyril "put in" his bill which included "time" as well
as materials. The materials cost she could tolerate but the bill for
"time" was a bit difficult to swallow. She had assumed that No 1 son
would have done it for love perhaps. It was to result in quite a row and it
wasn't the last time that they would be in conflict over money.
To father,
Phyllis was a fluffy, feather-brain piece but he quite liked her as she fussed
and flattered him but nevertheless when one day when she flounced into the shop
and said can I have an apple "Pop" and mounted the platform and chose
the best she could see, she had a bit of a shock when he said "that'll be
a penny, Luv". It was something she never forgot the rest of her life. She
was from a quite different kind of family and as a soft, kind, and sentimental
kind of girl, it must have been a bit of a culture shock to find herself mixing
it with this hard-edged cloud. She came up trumps later on however when Sam was
dying and she helped nurse him and help in the shop.
At this time,
I would be about ten to thirteen years of age and rarely in the house playing
with the local "har'em scar'em" kids, no matter what the weather some
mischief would be being perpetrated such as using a burning glass to burn a
hole in the hot water bottles in the chemists’ windows, and contemplate with
glee the disaster to come to some poor unfortunate when the thing would leak
out in someone's bed. Or in the summer to go on the sands fairly early and dig
a hole about eighteen inches cubed and then cover it with newspaper sprinkled
with a light covering of sand and then sit and wait for some unfortunate to
fall into it, - fiendish, no other word for it. To earn a copper or two we
would build a sand causeway across the outgoing tidal streams to enable people
to get out to the sea without getting their feet wet. In the winter it would be
roller skating on the promenade and pestering smokers for their cigarette
cards.
It must
have been in about 1934 when I was thirteen, my last year at school, Mother
decided to move out to Bispham, two miles just out of Blackpool going north
towards Fleetwood. The family was a bit smaller by now, Cyril and Phyllis
having quit the nest. Things must have been easier financially as this was the
first place we had lived in and no lodgers or summer paying visitors. The new
dwelling was a detached bungalow at a pound a week plus rates. It meant a fresh
set of chums for me but the same school. I remember distinctly that I casually
analysed these new chums individually and came to the conclusion that what I
had suspected all along was correct, and that I was a "superior
being" after all.
Father
would on occasions send me to the Bank for change and this would some-times
make me late for school. The excuse I offered to the teacher of having to go to
the bank was accepted without quibble and was used more than once and sometimes
out of desperation. I was of the impression that none of my classmates and
possibly even the teacher had a bank account, which seemed to make the excuse
unassailable.
Father
being in the grocery trade prompted me to do likewise, so on leaving school at
14 years I started work at Redmans in Talbot Road, leaving school on the Friday
and starting work on the Monday. The pound a week wage was handed over to
Mother at the end of the week and this would go towards the rent of 14 England
Avenue, and she would then hand me back half a crown. Normal hours of work were
9.0am till 6.0pm but in the Summer it was 8.0am till 9.0pm but being under age
I would have a long break midday of about 3 hours which I would use by going
round to Father’s shop and help him and perhaps cycle out to Marton Moss and
get a further supply of lettuce and tomatoes.
With the
advent and commencement of the war in '39, the thoughts of myself and my
contemporaries were turned to which service they would prefer to be in. In the
end it seemed to hinge on which service would allow you to smoke all day long or
whenever you wanted to. We figured that the trenches would give you all the
freedom to do what you wanted. So it was going to be the Army for most of us, -
what simpletons, how did we manage to win the war.
Why I chose
the Navy, I couldn't say, perhaps I just fancied myself in the uniform. I had
been in the Navy just over twelve months and just after returning to Rosyth
after being given a thrashing by the Bismark German battleship, I received a
telegram to say that Father was dying and to get home if I could. The starboard
watch had already gone on leave and we the Port watch would follow in a
fortnight. I applied for immediate leave on compassionate grounds and was
granted leave to start the next day. Phyllis's husband Fred smoked a pipe and
had mentioned in one of the letters that he would like some navy tobacco if I
could manage it. Some weeks prior to this I had set about making up what is
vulgarly dubbed a "prick" of tobacco, which is several tobacco leaves
soaked in rum and then rolled up and then tied as tightly as you can manage
into a roll.
The next
day this small party of matelots with me making up the party of about ten
mustered on the quarter deck and proceeded to go ashore. My "prick" of
tobacco which was in excess of my allowance of duty-free allowance was secured
with a piece of string to the spare button on the inside of my top coat which
was folded over my arm. Ordinarily with the whole of the watch going through
the dockyard gates this would have been a reasonable risk but as there was only
ten to deal with, we all got pulled into the Customs Office and a search soon
revealed my contraband.
I was
allowed to proceed on leave but all the goods including my allowance were
confiscated.
Father must
have been ill for about six months with what turned out to be cancer of the
liver. I'm sure I must have been told about the situation so it was not a great
shock to me but I arrived home just 2 days too late but was able to be at the funeral.
The
following is a short piece from a letter that Mother wrote to Cyril 3 months
before he died which I find very poignant. It follows after she had told of her
visit to the doctor and hearing of his diagnosis. "Well, my dear boy, from
Sat afternoon to Monday morning has been a nightmare to me. So I asked your
Father how much he wanted to know and how much would his mentality stand, and
his reply was, "all of it". So I said well, you know what your father
died of, and he said "yes". So, I as well as I could utter that is
what you have got and it is on the liver. He thanked me and said he was quite
satisfied and was quite ready when his time came. Strange to say, he has bucked
up since and I have often heard him humming a little tune or just a little
whistle now and then. He told me this morning that he was glad that he knew the
worst and although he was emotional he said they were tears of joy not sadness.
I am the one that feels it most, as I daren’t say anything to Grace in her present
condition, and I don’t want to upset Phyllis as she is doing so well at the
shop. He is so proud of her and it’s his greatest joy to visit the shop and see
how she is going on." The letter continues for a little more, it is dated
5 Feb 41. Grace's "condition" was her pregnancy with her first born,
June, who Father would see just 10 days
before he died, his first grandchild.
Father’s
life at the shop had been the happiest time of his working time, he was in
charge of himself, everything was down to him. He suffered the unintended
slight that all small shopkeepers have to deal with of his local customers
walking past the shop with their shopping bags full having come back from town
and market and then having to serve them with a packet of salt for tuppence and
with a smile and a pleasant word. His resourcefulness was one of his
attributes. Distressed oranges and grapefruit would be made into marmalade.
Apples and tomatoes with bruises would finish up as chutney, and unsaleable vegetables
would be chopped up and offered for sale as veg. stock for soup; nothing was
wasted. It was almost pointless for the Dustbin men to call as most things
seemed to get converted to some further use. He even recruited the darkness of
the cellar to help him grow mushrooms. Frugality -- Frugality -- he was an
excellent manager,
I think
that by the end of the year the shop was sold, Mother didn’t have the heart for
it. Towards the end of the war, Mother must have felt like a bit of adventure
so she sold the bungalow lease and most of the furniture and with the
additional money she had from the sale of the shop stock, she bought a wooden
chalet bungalow in Hayle Cornwall. Sight unseen from an advert in either the
Daltons Weekly or the Exchange & Mart. It turned out to be typical of the
kind of place that one would get from that source. It was in a community of
similar wooden structures built just after the first world war with running
water and electric but no mains drainage. Every week a Polish chap with name of
Tizak used to come along with a horse and a two wheeled dung cart and remove
the contents of the residents Elsans for a small fee.
Mothers
place was called "Duneside" and it was built on the side of a small
sand dune. The whole site was quite near the sea and near the estuary of the
River Red which flowed into the sea having come through Redruth. Entrance to
the dwelling was at ground level but the other side was out on to a veranda on
stilts and then down some steps to more sand. The veranda soon showing signs of
gently rotting away.
At the same
time as Mother made this buy she also bought, again sight unseen, a caravan
sighted just outside Paignton, Devon, which seems to show a degree of
recklessness. After my demob and before l went to stay with Cyril in London, I
stayed with Mother for a while, during which time she despatched me to Paignton
to find out the state of the Caravan. I recall it being very damp and leaking
in parts, a broken window, bed and bedding all damp and I felt lucky to escape
without getting a bad cold. It was never used and I guess its fate was to
gradually crumble in the damp Devon weather.
About this
time Ted and Grace and the children came to stay at "Duneside" with
"Ma" as Ted always called her. All the war work had come to an end in
Blackpool and Ted was looking for a job of some kind. He got work with the
"Camborne Electric Light Co" who could have been taken over by G.E.C.
as I recall red working for them for a spell. The Etherington family used to go
to the local Methodist Church of Sunday much to "Ma's" surprise but
it became more clear when Ted revealed that the Preacher was the local butcher
in Hayle and that Ted was partly praying for some extra meat on top of the
weekly ration.
The
"Duneside" period could have only lasted about two years and some
difficulty arose when it came to a sale as none of these dwellings had any
"deeds". The only paperwork Mother had was a bill of sale when she
bought the place and so proof of true ownership was always jumped on by anyone
who was going to deal through a solicitor. This hadn't deterred Mother but
everyone wasn’t as willing to take a gamble as she. However in 1946 she had
got, through the "Lady" a post as a seamstress for Lord and Lady
Hoare at the historic house "Stourhead" in Wiltshire. The old couple
were in there late eighties and were in need of help to get the house linen up
to standard having been subject to the neglect of the war years. This job must
have been of immense interest to Mother and it’s my regret that I didn't take
more note of the tales she told of the place and the old couple. Sadly, the job
expired as the Hoares did, both of these ancients died on the same day, and
Mother moved on again. The National Trust took on the property in 1947.
From then
Mother took a job as an assistant to a housekeeper in a nice big house in
Newquay, Cornwall, the owners having a big hotel on the front. At the time I
was working in Folkestone as a beach photographer and I took a weekend off to
see how she was getting on. At this time reg and I were getting a little
"sweet" on each other and I recall making the bold decision to buy a
little "Cornish Pixie" brooch for her on my return.
The years
'48 to '51 were spent for Mother in visiting and staying with Phyllis and Fred
in Blackpool and Poulton-le Fylde and of the buying and selling of a property
in Southport. The origins of a story about Mother which used to be re-told time
and time again whenever the few of us got together and which was sure to have
tears of mirth running down the cheeks probably came from this time. Fred and
Phyllis lived in a mews type property and Mother came to call on them quite
unannounced, which wasn’t unusual at that time as telephones weren’t all that
common. Phyllis happened to meet Mother at the bottom of the stairs and called
up to Fred "Mother’s here". Fred’s own Mother was dead by now, and Fred
replied with what we always took to be a Freudian slip, "What Mother?",
and subconsciously denying that his Mother-in-law existed. Of course, knowing
the relationship that passed for an existence between Fred and Mother makes for
a better feel for the story.
Peg and I
visited Mother when she was in Southport a journey that Peg will never forget.
A cheap return from London to Southport by Standerwick bus. Peg’s back was
breaking by the time we got half way and I think she spent the first day in bed
trying to recover. I recall we took the train back. Mother was in the stage of
selling the house at this time, a bitterly cold late November. Mother had the
house in the hands of an agent but was having a tussle with him as she had
managed to get a buying client and was strongly of the opinion that the agent
had no business in asking, nay demanding, his fee.
It was
about this time that Cyril, being in the early stages of consolidation with the
business at Dawes Road, found himself in need of capital. As Mother had sold
the Southport house and had the money in a building society account, Cyril put
the proposition forward to her that she take some debentures in the new firm
"Touchstone Ltd" and receive better interest than the building
society. Mother had no idea what debentures were and neither did I come to that
but I wasn't party to the deal. When Cyril had set about to make the firm into
a Limited Company he had studied company law and was pretty well versed in the
intricacies of raising money of which debentures plays a part. He was quite
proud, and quite justifiably so on the extent of his company knowledge, what he
didn't know was how Mother's mind was going to work but he would be a lot wiser
in that regard before long.
The money
changed hands and was soon swallowed up in Cyril’s enterprise, but hardly had
the ink dried as it were and any interest had been paid that mother's restless
spirit had promoted another idea to her and needed the money back. Cyril couldn't
produce the money and neither could he say when it would be produced: he had
long term plans for it. Not for the last time had he got himself in a spot that
he couldn't get out of easily.
This hiatus
between them would never be bridged and was to develop into a tug of war which
got hotter and hotter until Cyril had what he could never have imagined would
happen, a letter from a solicitor acting on behalf of his Mother of all people.
I don't know the real outcome of the dilemma but that was the end as far as
Cyril was concerned as to the relationship. He never made any attempt to mend
the fence and I don’t think Mother made any great effort.
Cale
Street, Chelsea was Mother's next "smart" address. She had negotiated
to buy the lease and contents of a ground floor flat consisting of just a
sitting room, small kitchen and a bedroom. We still have the rather unusual
sideboard that she passed on to us when eventually quit this address and came
to Ifield Road early in '55 after we had moved on to "St Goar
Cottage" in Putney. Mother enjoyed living in Chelsea and being in the
centre of all the smart shops in South Kem, and for a short spell Phyllis and
Peter and Dianna parked themselves there either before or after Cresswell Street
South Ken where Phyllis took on the tenancy of an enormous property and took in
variety of roomers, lodgers, and managed to finally extract herself from there
and then finish up in the Brixton area.
Sometime in
1954 I received a beneficence in the form of two legacies from two Aunts, who
to my knowledge I had never met. They were two maiden Aunts, sisters of Father
and had left the area of Stalybridge to set up in Colwyn Bay and took a
Newsagent and Tobacco shop. The died in their eighties within 12 months of each
other and left their money to the Nieces and Nephews who numbered about nine.
The amount as I recall was firstly about £700 and then to follow a larger
amount almost doubling the first legacy. The total amount was the equivalent of
the average three bedroomed house at that time and we had been working ourselves
up to buy a house and move out of Ifield Road.
We fell in
love with "St Goar Cottage" in Putney and spent the next 34 years
there. We encouraged Mother to leave Cale St and move into Ifield Road, which
she was pleased to do. She settled in quite well and made friends with
"Amy", a little single woman across the way who had a leg in irons
and a pronounced limp. She was devoted to Mother, and Mother being one of those
kind of people who can get and make a submissive, obedient body out of an acquaintance,
it worked very well. Mother by now had developed a hip condition and in today’s
world it would have been dealt with by a replacement but she got over it with
the aid of a wheelchair, which Amy used to push Mother around in. On occasions
we would have them both over to the cottage at Putney as well as the wheelchair.
"Banana
Skin" happenings can occur to anybody and to the observer even if
ironically the victim is your "dear old Mother" can cause hilarity. Amy
had taken Mother out in the wheelchair, it was just to be a chance to take some
fresh air and a change of scene. She was proceeding down a slight incline in
the Upper Richmond Road when Amy must have tripped on a flag stone and involuntarily
let go of the chair which resulted in "Ma" proceeding downhill under
her own steam with no means of stopping but fortunately with steering control. Happily,
it all ended with it coming to a halt outside East Putney Tube station with
Mother just as unflustered and serene as she started but with Amy in a
"puther" of apologies.
Another
occasion when Mother displayed her unflapperbility was when during our courting
days and Peg was keen to give Mother a good day out. We all, that is about ten
of us boarded the miniature train at Hythe to have a picnic at Dymchurch. We
arrived at Dymchurch but "Ma" was absent, having got left on the
platform in the rush to get on. When the next train arrived, she was in an open
truck surrounded by a bunch of noisy snotty-nosed children with "Ma"
in the middle doing her unconscious impersonation of the old Queen Mary
complete with wide brimmed hat, or it could have been Lady Bracknell on a day
trip to Dymchurch instead of Bognor Regis. Kath's dog and the stone, she insisted
on planting in Ma's lap!
Sometime
during 1956 Grace and Ted and Family moved to London from Cornwall, Ted either
looking for work or being offered a job in Town. With Ifield Road having plenty
of spare room it was agreed that they share the flat with Mother until
something more suitable turned up. After about 18 months the Etherington Family
moved to a house in Barking, and around the same time we decided that Mother
should come to St Goar Cottage and live with us as she was now about 77 years
of age and her hip problem getting worse. She was with us for several years in
the room looking on to the garden.
In 1962 Peg’s
Dad became very ill and we had both Peg’s Mum and Dad with us also at the cottage.
With Peg’s work load becoming greater we arranged with Ted and Grace to take on
the care of looking after Mother. They were by now in a big Leasehold property
in Victoria. Peg’s Dad died at St Goar Cottage in 1963 and in the next year her
Mum died in Putney Hospital. Mother came back to us again but Peg was feeling
the strain of it all and we got her a place in Atney Road Putney were we could
visit easy and see she was looked after.
"Louie"
now comes into the picture. Louie Pearce was nearly 70 and her dear old Dad was
into his 90's. They had a large bungalow dwelling in Steyning with a big garden
running wild and this is where Mother would settle for the remainder of her
time until she died in 1966. Louie was an artistic type, very unconventional
but good hearted and a church-goer and Mother enjoyed the easy atmosphere of
the place. Louie wasn't the type to waste her time on house cleaning and the
like when she could be doing her water colouring and gardening and a meal would
be a "happening". Louie would have made a good Buddhist as she was
reluctant to kill anything. In the winter, mice occupied the house with the
same proprietorial ease as the rest of the residents. In the summer, fruit flies
swarmed in the kitchen around the fruit gathered but not dealt with as Louie
would be elsewhere engaged on some joyful job which yet again would no doubt
end unfinished.
I recall
going to visit them in the winter and finding the open fire in the sitting room
being fed by a log from the garden about eight foot long sticking out and
resting on the back of a chair with wood smoke filling the room and everyone’s
eyes. Mother would be sitting in a corner stoically trying to fan the smoke out
of her eyes but quite accepting it all and once again pleased to see us.
During one
of these winter days one of Louie's cats took a well-earned rest from catching
mice by climbing through the open oven door of her "Rayburn". Who
closed the door we never knew but when it was next opened poor pussy was cooked
beyond repair.
Louie had a
very bad arthritic condition in her back and for all the time we knew her she
was almost bent double but never-the-less was possessed of a great energy and
for some years after Mother died she would travel up to London to visit the
Royal Academy Annual Exhibition in Piccadilly and get Peg to go with her. Peg
would be quite worn out with all the traipsing around but Louie would still be steaming
along with her bent form being occasionally fuelled with a hand full of nuts
and raisins that she kept as "iron rations" in her mac pocket. She
would then spend the night with us at the cottage before travelling back to
Steyning. Eventually her Xmas cards stopped coming and we had to assume she had
gone to visit the "Great Exhibition in the Sky".
Harking
back to Father's time at the shop, I recall one of his economy dodges was how
to deal with bread that was a few days old and approaching staleness, was to
give them a light going over with fine water spray and then a few minutes in a
hot oven. Once back on the shelf with the smell of freshness about them a sale
might be had.
Also
remembering my time at Dawes Road with Cyril. In the setting up of
"Touchstone", Cyril was faced with the dilemma of what his newly
recruited labour force, which was never more than four, was to call the pair of
us. With his new status as "boss" he was now going to have these
"workers" calling us Cyril or Philip, that would be far too chummy
and if it was going to be "Mr Smalley" nobody would know which one of
the two it might be, so we were designated "Mr Cyril' and "Mr Philip".
So, whilst the "workers" were not encouraged to be familiar with the
"Bosses" it didn't prevent the familiarity working in reverse. Dot
Stevens, Molly and Vi were in their turn elevated from worker status to
"Mistress" status over the years.
During my
time with them at Lynton Road, the Dot Stevens affair leaked out and of course
a great upset ensued between the three of them, Dot living in the flat above.
Cyril accused me of being a "typical Smalley" as I was apparently
quite unaffected by their problems and where all three were in emotional turmoil,
I hadn't lost my appetite and was sleeping wonderfully well and immune to the trauma.
I don't deny this judgment but would say that he had more of this ability to be
detached than myself as he could never have coped with all the problems that
were to be visited on him in the next two decades.
