Bernard took us all by surprise one day, bringing home a girlfriend. Her name was Margaret Wilson she lived in Darlington, but Bernard had first met her at Trimdon. She was the niece of Mrs. Yates, Gran’s friend when she lived in High Dyke Street, Trimdon. Margaret with her twin sister Gladys came to see their Aunt occasionally and had met Bernard at Gran’s. She was a nice young lady with fair hair and blue eyes, she was wearing the uniform of the Royal Air Force. The first time she came she was rather shy and very polite, but after she had visited us a few times she became quite friendly. We all became very fond of her.

Time past and things went much the same, and one evening I ventured to ask if I may go out to play.

“Play Girl? Play? Why on earth does a girl of your age want to play?”

I shrunk into my chair from where I could see the other girls playing in the roadway.

A girl at school called Jenny, whom I knew quite well asked me if I would like to call for her on Saturday, and we might play or go for a walk.

“I’ll ask my Mam” I said, but I didn’t. I knew she would say no. Dad and Hannah were going to Wingate to stay with Gran for the weekend, and I was sure that Bernard would let me out to play. When I went to call for Jenny, her mother answered the door and told me that Jenny was out. As she shut the door I could hear her scolding Jenny.

“I’ve told you that you’ve not to play with that girl.”

My ears pricked up. Why not I thought?

“She will bring infection into the house, and don’t you dare go to their house.”

I walked slowly home not knowing what disease I had.

“Perhaps I have T.B. and no one has told me, I did have a bad chest last week but it’s gone now. I don’t think I would be allowed at school with T.B. but perhaps that’s why everyone stays away from me,” I thought. I went home with my mind in a turmoil, as I reached our gate I met Mary another girl who spoke to me occasionally, she asked what on earth was the matter with me. I told Mary what Jenny’s mother had said.

“Come with me and tell my mam, and stay and play with me.”

Mary’s Mam was very kind, she explained to me that it was not me. All those people she said are afraid that what your Mam has is infectious and that you might carry the germs to them.

I had been alone and shunned by almost everyone for about two years, but now I knew why. It won’t make any difference I thought, people will still believe what they want to. I will just have to put up with it, but at least now I know why. I never told Hannah about this, but I think by her behaviour she already knew. She had probably had this treatment all her life. Mary and I played quite often and became friends, the only thing was that some of her so called friends stopped speaking to her, but she said she didn’t care.

It was now summer Ron had an idea that he would like to go to see Durham Cathedral.

“It would be fun wouldn’t it? We could go on the river and stay all afternoon.”

“Oh yes, let’s go. If you ask Mam I’m sure that she will let us go.”

She gave her permission, so off we went on our adventure. After looking around the magnificent Cathedral we went to the shop and bought a pound of Victoria Plums each. We took these and our sandwiches out on the river to eat them; what bliss. The ducks, the trees, the peace of it all. After eating all our plums and sandwiches we rowed further out into the middle of the river, and as we rowed down the river we chatted and reminisced about the things we did when we were younger. Things like our pretend tea parties, with a quarter of a pound of Dolly Mixtures for the cakes, we used to ask the shop lady to please put one chocolate caramel in with the Dolly Mixtures, it represented the Birthday Cake. Such simple pleasures we made for ourselves with my Doll’s Tea Set, which was well used. We vowed to be friends always and when we grew up we would always visit each other after we married and had our own homes. Dad had a sister Ethel to whom he never spoke, we never knew why, but vowed this would never happen to us.

“Do you think we will ever go to Thwaite again, Ron? I heard Dad talking about it only last week, but I don’t know what arrangements he has made. Oh, I do so hope we are going.”

Two days later Hannah came into the kitchen where Ron and I were washing up, she seemed to be in a happy mood as she asked.

“How would you like to go to the cottage again? We are going on Saturday, so let’s make a list of things to take.”

We were so thrilled we wanted to start packing our things there and then. Dad had already booked the cottage, but this was to be our last holiday or ride out in the car for a long time. The small Petrol Ration that Dad had for the car was to end, and there would be no more car until the end of the war.

I wondered if she would be as nice as she had been before.

Saturday came and off we went with half of the gang, Dad went to Richmond to meet the others, who as before had travelled that far by bus. We were so disappointed to discover that with the weather being much warmer that Spring the hay had already been gathered in. We had so enjoyed the haymaking last time. We still had a wonderful holiday.

The war continued but we didn’t have any bombing. We could see from our front door step the red glow in the sky, which Dad said was the steel works at Dormanstown Middlesborough, and the I.C.I. Chemical Works that had been bombed. This was about ten miles away. We did have one or two planes crash in the fields nearby, but that was about all. At school we still had practice Air Raids with Gas Mask drill. A special hospital was quickly erected on the outskirts of the village, this was a prefabricated building. and was to accommodate the wounded servicemen. It was a new thing in the village to see these wounded men out walking dressed in their Hospital Blue. Food rationing had been on the go quite a while now, it was not a lot but we managed. A new phenomenon arrived, queuing. People queued for this and that, in fact anything that was available off the ration, tobacco and cigarettes were in short supply and were usually kept under the counter for regular customers. The Black Market came into being, quite a lot of things could be bought illegally, and people who were caught indulging in this were heavily fined. We were just getting over the years of depression and now we were a nation at war. All the sign posts were taken down to confuse the enemy should we be invaded. Iron railings and chains around houses and churches were taken to help the war effort. Crèches were formed so that mothers could work in the Munition Factory at Ayclyffe. Everyone pulled together more than ever, and if anyone complained they were told

“Don’t you know there is a war on?”

Posters were put up everywhere with the slogan.

Don’t Talk Walls Have Ears

A Spy Could Be Anywhere

This all created an atmosphere of mystery and made us feel a little afraid.

I was once asked the time by a man with a foreign accent, I ran off to a policeman to report it. The man turned out to be of Italian birth, but was a naturalised British citizen, and he lived in the next village. It was nice to know that everything was checked out, even reports from children.

Nineteen forty one was a very bad winter. The taps were all frozen and some of the street water pipes burst. Water carts came around the houses, I cleaned out the bath and started to fill it with water. I carried two pails of water along the street, up the garden path, into the house, and poured it into the bath, I don’t know how many times, but the bath was about half full. Now we would have to make do with washing ourselves in the kitchen sink. As I came through the door for the umpteenth time, Bernard called to me.

“Doris bring a shovel full of coal for the fire.”

I put down the pails and got the shovel full of coal, but my mind and feet were set in the rhythm of my walk for the half hour or so. I walked straight into the bathroom, and before I could draw back, the shovel full of coal was in the bath.

“Oh no,” I cried out.

“Yer daft thing,” Bernard said.

When Dad came in he was very cross with Bernard, telling him he should be ashamed of himself, sitting over the fire and expecting me to get the coal when I was so busy with the water.

Bernard must have been very tired as he had just got in from work, and I didn’t mind getting the coal. I just wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. When the coal settled we were able to use some of the water.

The big freeze was easing up and Dad and Hannah went to Wingate for the weekend, but during Friday night we had a very big snowfall. We could not see any sky when we opened the back door, the snow had drifted up so high. We dug a tunnel through the snow to the coal-house and toilet. Dad was so worried about us, he walked all the way home from Wingate, he had quite an ordeal on the way. He told us that some of the time he had to walk on the tops of the hedges as the snow was so deep. It had taken him five hours to get home, and he was so relieved to find we were alright. We had a lot of this kind of weather that winter, I remember one day digging my way to school. Many other children living near to the school also did this. It was like walking in a maze with all these pathways dug in the deep snow. It was hard work for everyone clearing the snow from the paths and roads, but being children we thought it was great fun. All the roads were closed with the deep snowdrifts blocking them, there was no school as the teachers could not get through, there being no buses running. The snow was too deep in a lot of places for the snow-plough to clear and these stretches of road had to be dug out and cleared by hand. Snow-ploughs were not like they are today, they were just like big farm ploughs and pulled by the local farm horses. It was a wild sight to see the horses floundering and struggling in the deep snow.

I went to stay with Aunt Emma for the Easter holidays. Cousin George took me to meet his Gran Hodgson and also her daughter Sophia, who still lived at home. I was somewhat taken by surprise by Sophia, she was only about three feet nine inches tall, a squat little figure sitting in a rocking chair. Her head was so large, were I not looking at her I would not have believed it. Mam told me later that she crocheted Tammy Shanta hats for her, it took three ounces of wool to make each hat.

Gran Hodgson was a sweet kind old lady, who had looked after Phia and said it was very hard work, but Gran would not let her daughter be taken into a home. She said she was worried of what would become of Phia when she was gone, as no one else could manage her.

“I suppose she will have to go to Howbeck when the time does come.”

“What is Howbeck?” I asked.

“It’s the local Workhouse,” George replied.

I had read about Workhouses in books but I had not given it a thought that they still existed.

“The next time we are near there I’ll take you to see it. But when we get there run past as fast as you can.”

I supposed my cousin George was afraid that someone would jump out and pull him inside. I must admit that when I did see it I thought it had an air of foreboding, and was pleased to hurry by, Sophia died shortly after that, so Gran Hodgson had no need to worry anymore.

That summer Ron left school and found himself a job at the Co-op at Trimdon Colliery. He had been there only one week when Dad received a letter from the school authorities. This letter was to inform him that Ronnie had left school two weeks too soon, and that he would be obliged to return to school for these two weeks. If he did not return to finish the final term he would not be awarded his School Certificate. Poor Ron had to ask Mr. Brown the Co-op Manager if he would hold his job whilst he went back to school for the two weeks. Mr. Brown agreed to this so all was well.

My next weekend in West Hartlepool was none too pleasant, there was an air raid on the Saturday evening. The sirens sounded and Aunt Emma put George, Brian and me into the cupboard under the stairs tucked up in blankets, saying that if a bomb was to hit the house we would be safer in there. I remember Uncle Bob who was home on leave standing on the doorstep saying to Auntie, that the noise we could hear was not bombs, but our own anti-aircraft guns. He could see the searchlights arcing the sky. We wanted to look but were not allowed to. The all clear sounded about ten o’ clock but the alarm was sounded again for another raid about midnight, this lasted until about four o’ clock so we did not get much sleep that night. Sunday morning George and I, with Brian in his pushchair, went out walking to see the damage that had been done by the falling bombs. A church hall and a school in Musgrave Street had been damaged, a shop here and there and also a few houses. Uncle Bob said that these bombs had been meant for the steelworks, but had missed their target and landed on the town. This was the closest I came to actual war damage. Dad was so annoyed that Hannah had sent me into a dangerous area that I never went again.

The government set up a meal service known as ‘British Restaurants’, they sprang up everywhere, not only in the towns but also in villages. This was to provide people with a cheap nourishing three course meal. It was a none profit making scheme to enable people to get a good meal and supplement the food rationing. The cost of which was eight pence, this being

Soup (Twopence.)
Meat, Potatoes and two veg. (Fourpence.)
Sweet (Twopence.)

There was one of these British Restaurant down the road just past my school, and I longed to go there with some of the children from school.

School dinners were not provided in my school, but I had my milk which was now free to everyone.

One Friday when Mam had gone to town, instead of having my OXO and bread which I’d come to hate, I took from my money box fourpence and dashed off to the restaurant and had my dinner. No soup or sweet, just the dinner and I had just enough time to get back to school without being late. As the weeks went by and I had been doing this every Friday, my money box was getting lighter. We didn’t get pocket money, we only had the money given us by Aunties, Grandma and Granddad for Birthdays, Easter and Christmas. But Granddad Davie gave us money every time he saw us. This had to be put into our money boxes and we weren’t allowed to spend it, only when we bought our own shoes. Eventually I was found out and Hannah was outraged, calling me a thief.

“Fancy robbing your own money box,” she shouted at me.

“Well, I am often hungry,” I dared to say. “And if it is my own money. How can it be theft?”

“How dare you?” she raged “You will have people thinking that I starve you next.”

I felt like telling her that she did, but thought better of it and satisfied my anger by saying. “I’m sick of OXO and bread, I’m over thirteen years old and I need more food.”

“You insolent young pup, get off to bed before I lose my temper with you.”

I went to bed hungry, without tea but felt that I had made a small conquest, I had dared to speak up.

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