After a year Brother Ron left the Co-op and took a job in the colliery canteen. This meant that he would have no more bus fares to pay out of his five shillings pocket money, and he could also make himself a sandwich for his dinner, instead of the odd biscuit or two he scrounged at the Co-op. The manager told him that he would shortly have a vacancy for a junior, and if I would like it, the job could be mine when I left school. There were very few jobs for people my age, I was not old enough for any formal training in the professions, including the hospitals. Many girls had to travel to find work in the neighbouring town shops until they were old enough to go to the factories. Another alternative was to go away “to place” as it was called. This meant having a living-in place, to serve in the homes of wealthy people, leaving home and only getting back home for a few days holiday.

When I went to work, my wages would contribute to Hannah’s savings, but she would rather I did the work at home. Eventually I was allowed to start work at the canteen. I enjoyed my little job and Hannah had the best of both worlds, I gave her my wages of one pound five shillings and received five shillings back. I also had all of the work to do, assisted by Ron who still had to do the dusting. One day when Hannah was out, she had left instructions that all of the work had to be done on her return. Bernard asked Ron

“When are you going to stop behaving like a lass and put away that duster?”

“I don’t know, Mam will be mad if I don’t do it.”

Bernard told Ron that the next time Hannah told him to dust whilst Bernard was there, he was to refuse and leave the rest to him. Ron and I just shivered at the thought of it. Bernard was now twenty-two, and was not at all afraid of Hannah like Ron and I were. Now that we had some pocket money she would ask, which one of us was going to pay her bus fare to the town each Friday. This didn’t leave us much when it was our turn to pay, as we had to pay for our own meat pasty for dinner at the canteen. The steak and kidney pies were much nicer, but we could not afford those. The day came when Ron was told to get on with the dusting, Ron stood shivering not knowing what was going to happen. I was in the same state.

“I thought I told you to dust,” Hannah snapped.

We both looked at Bernard, he shook his head to Ron, but Mam did not notice this. As she began again Bernard interrupted her.

“Are yer trying te mak a cissy out of him? He’s seventeen years old. De ye not think he’s too old te be runnin’ about tied te yer apron strings?”

Hannah was speechless, she never did say anything to anyone, not a word and Ron was free to be a man.

Hannah had for some time been trying to persuade Dad to leave the pit and go to work at the steelworks in West Hartlepool. Her sister Ruth’s husband Jack did, and earned a very high wage, I heard her say. Dad said it might be alright, but not just yet. The war was not the time to be making that sort of a move, so things went on just as they were.

I enjoyed my little job serving tea and sandwiches to the men coming off shift. It was a rule that they should be bathed before entering the canteen, but just now and then the young lads from the screens and the lamp cabin were allowed to be served with sandwiches to take out, so long as they did not sit down in their black clothes. The first Bevan Boys that came in all black and all worn out were sent out by the manager Mr. Cockburn to be bathed first. I felt so sorry for them as some of them had previously worked in offices and had never experienced anything like their first day down a pit.

One day a young lad came to the counter with such a black face, his eyes and teeth were all I could see. After he was gone Mr. Cockburn said to me

“That lad fancies you, you know?”

I must have blushed as I asked “How do you know?”

“I could tell by the way he looked at you, and thanked you when he left.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s Jim Robinson and he lives at Trimdon Village, his father works here as well.”

I could see that Mr. Cockburn was serious. “But how am I to know the lad again.? That’s if he is clean,” I thought. I chuckled to myself and thought no more about it. A few days later a young man came to the counter, and after I’d served him he bent over closer and whispered

“Would you go to the pictures with me on Saturday night?”

I looked at him as he smiled, with deep dimpled cheeks, it was he, the lad Mr. Cockburn had teased me about. I blushed and felt rather shy, but agreed to go.

As I stood doing the ironing which had been left for me as usual, I came to two white coats in the pile of washing. Ron had worn them but they were too small for him, so I asked if I could have them. I hated wearing the v necked aprons which had belonged to Hannah. They were far too long for me and much too wide.

“Yes,” said Hannah “if you give me five shillings for them.”

I thought this was very mean of her, but gave her the money and the white coats were now mine.

Saturday night came and as Ron and I were almost ready, Hannah said

“Wait, I think I’ll come with you.”

My date was sunk. As we approached the cinema I saw Jim standing by the corner shop opposite. He was dressed in a black suit and white shirt. No-one could have looked smarter, but I didn’t dare to recognize him, being with my family. When I next saw him he said that he understood and we could go another time.

The following weekend I went to stay with my Aunt Mary to be with my cousin Betty for a while. Aunt Mary asked me why I didn’t curl my hair like Betty did. I don’t really know I told her, but Mam had said that my hair was like Mammy Irene’s and probably would not curl very well.

“Let me put your hair into curls for you,” Aunt said.

So I let her. She managed everything by feel as she was blind. My hair next morning was nice, I had never had it like this before, even though I’d always secretly wanted it to be just like Rhya’s, who had lived out the back of Tank Street.

I came home hoping that Hannah would not notice my hair, but I might just as well have wished for the moon. She nagged on at me something awful, saying that girls of my age should not make more of themselves than they were, or they would grow up to be harlots. I could not make the connection but I remained silent, for me to argue with her was to come off second best. A few days later Hannah, after being at Aunt Mary’s came in furious, she grabbed my hair, dragged me over to the drawer from which she took out a pair of scissors. She began to chop off my hair in uneven handfuls, breathing heavily with anger she raged at me

“I’ll teach her to say I’m jealous,” as she continued frantically slashing my hair.

She had apparently spoken to Aunt Mary about my curly hair, telling her that she had no business doing it. Aunt Mary had replied by telling Hannah that she had always disliked Irene, and that I looked so much like her that she could not stand it and was jealous of me. So this was why she was so enraged, and I was now left like a raggy haired scarecrow. She wouldn’t let me go to the hairdressers, so when Bernard came in, he tidied me up the best he could. Hannah had lovely hair herself, when it was set free from its plaited flowers it hung in beautiful fair waves down to way past her waist.

I spent the next three months with my hair (what was left of it) tied up in a scarf, like the factory girls. This was a common sight as hats were scarce and scarfs became quite fashionable. So my short hair passed quite unnoticed until it was about four inches long, everyone thought that I was starting off a new hair style, something like the Bob of the nineteen twenties.

Dad discovered my friendship with Jim, for that’s all it was. I liked him very much and I believed that he did me. He did kiss me goodnight, just a peck on the cheek. Anything else in those days had not even entered my head. Dad said that he was a nice lad, but I was not to see him again. I was to wait until I was sixteen before I could have a boy-friend. When I told Jim about this he said that he didn’t want to cause any trouble between my father and me. The time would soon pass he said, but he could not promise to wait for me. I was not yet fifteen and he was seventeen I thought, he might meet someone else, but I hoped that he wouldn’t.

On my way to work one day after a heavy fall of snow I came upon a goose, it was stretching it’s wings and neck way up into the air. I felt a bit nervous as I approached when it turned towards me. I quickly made a snowball and threw it at the goose hoping it would run away. Instead of running away, it ran towards me. I ran down the lane as fast as I could, and as I turned the corner into the colliery ground I bumped straight into one of the miners coming out. He was Mr. Harold Mothersdale.

“Now then, what’s all this?”

As he spoke I turned to see the goose still in hot pursuit, I had no need to tell him further, he could see for himself. He waved his arms and shooed the goose away. After thanking him I told him that I must not be a very good shot. I had meant to miss the goose with the snowball, I only wanted the chase it away. Instead I had hit it on its beak and this must have annoyed it and caused it to chase me.

There was still talk of moving house to West Hartlepool. I think that Mam was feeling that she wanted to be back in the town where she was well-known, and had many friends. Wedding bells were in the air for Bernard and Margaret, Ron was now working permanent night shift in the canteen. Although I still liked my job there, and I could still see Jim when he came in, I felt that there must be more to life than this. I guess I was an in-between, more than a child but not yet an adult. a dogsbody at home with the prospects of being nothing else. I felt as though I was in a long tunnel with no light at the end of it.

One Friday night on my way home from work I met a friend whom I had known at school, she was Bella Kerr. She asked if I was going to the fair that evening. The fair was an annual event and everyone went, even if they hadn’t much money to spend. When I got home Mam was not in to ask if I could go, neither was Dad, so I just went. I knew that I would get into trouble about it, but then I got into trouble about everything.

“So what did once more matter?” I said to myself.

We did enjoy the fair, Bella and me. We had one ride on the Waltzer, had a shot at the coconut shy, threw a few hoops. We didn’t win anything, but we looked at everything as we walked around all of the side-shows. At about eight-thirty we thought that we had better go and catch the bus home, it only ran once an hour, the next one would make us too late. Mam didn’t like me to be out at night unless I was with Ron. We dashed off round Purvis’s Drapery shop on the corner to the bus- stop, and who should be at the front of the queue but Hannah. I went up to her, but before I could speak she ordered me down to the back of the line of people, who were all looking on.

“Get to the back,” she snapped.

“You don’t think for one moment that you are standing with me, do you? The very idea” she continued.

Bella and I just shrunk and went where we were told. Hannah had been to visit Mrs. McGlen, a woman she had known many years ago. The bus came, filled up, and went, it was full and there was no duplicate bus running so we had to walk home. It was nine-thirty when I got home and as I walked in through the door Hannah shouted

“Where have you been, young lady?”

Before I could answer the cup of tea that she had just poured out for herself flew across the room at me. I ducked and it smashed against the newly decorated wall.

I didn’t give you permission to go out. I ask you where have you been?”

She knew fine well where I’d been, and had said the week before the fair came that I could go. But it was useless trying to reason with her when she was in a temper. I tried to tell her that she was not in to ask, but had given her permission earlier. She could not hear above her shouting so I said “Goodnight” and walked to the door leading to the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed, Mam, if that’s alright.”

“No, it’s jolly well not alright. You can go and get a cloth and dry up that mess you have caused. The wallpaper’s ruined. God only knows where I’ll get more from. There’s no more of that paper to be had, you see the trouble you’ve caused.”

I tried once more to explain that we had walked home as this was quicker than waiting an hour for the next bus, but it was hopeless. When I finished cleaning up the mess I went off to bed without food and drink, yet once again. I lay in bed thinking of the many times I had gone to bed hungry.

A few days later Bernard brought home some paint and a few packets of dye. He said that he was going to have a go at tidying up the wall. First he put on a coat of pale Magnolia Paint. Then with dyes mixed in separate dishes he began, with sponges he lightly dabbed the wall all over, with first one colour and then the next. Four colours in all, blue, mauve, yellow and pink, the dabs looked rather like chrysanthemums. As he worked he came across a stain which still showed through the paint, “oh, it’s alright” he said, “the dabs will hide it.” After that when he came to another stain or mark we all said.

“Oh, never mind, the dabs will hide it.”

We all enjoyed Bernard doing his bit to save the situation. When it was finished it was remarkably good. The rent man asked Mam where had she got the paper from, and was amazed when she told him what it was.

Dad had a lot of young seedlings growing in his greenhouse, he asked me to make sure that the ventilators were shut when it turned colder at night. Also to make sure that the black cat which often came around, did not get in and lie on his plants. He was on the two till ten shift, so I was left in charge of the greenhouse. I checked the temperature at half past five when I got in from work, and all was well. When I went to check again at half past six the cat had got in through the ventilator, and was laid curled up on a box of plants. As I entered the doorway the cat snarled at me, then jumped down behind the hot pipes which ran round three sides of the greenhouse. The cat would not move. I took the garden fork which was standing by the door, trailed this all around the back of the pipes to make the cat run round and out. I was startled as it jumped out over the bench top at me. I was so startled that I threw the fork at the cat, pinning it to the floor. I was horrified and ran screaming down the garden path to the house. There was no one in to help me, I sat sobbing for quite a while before I plucked up enough courage to go and see the cat. I looked through the glass door, I could just see the black fur lying still on the floor. But I didn’t dare go too close in case it jumped up at me. I spent the next three and a half hours in agony waiting for Dad to come home. When he did come he found the poor cat dead. He buried it in a corner of the garden, and told me not to get upset about it, but I could not stop thinking about it. Dad said that cats were strange creatures, living solitary lives, they were not like dogs and weren’t really bothered about people. Things were always happening to cats, getting run over, kicked by horses and all sorts of things. That’s why they are said to have nine lives. I think that Dad was just trying to make me feel better, but I didn’t. I had killed a cat and I couldn’t forget it. Dad said that Granddad Morgan once shut the oven door and stoked up the fire ready for Gran to bake, not knowing that the cat was asleep in the oven. When Gran opened the oven door she was shocked to see a roasted cat. How awful for Granddad and what a shock to Gran, to say nothing of the poor cat.

The next night when I came home Hannah was out again. I was still thinking about the cat so I decided to do something to take my mind off it. I thought I’d make some toffee, we got so few sweets. Sugar was rationed of course, but we always had enough as only Hannah used it in her tea. I took a little sugar from the two bags in the cupboard, and some from the sugar bowl. I now had enough to make about four ounces of toffee. Hannah came home earlier than usual, just as I was turning the toffee out of the tin. After a good scolding my punishment was to watch her and Ron eat it. They said it was delicious.

I often wondered why Hannah was such a miser, she saved up money with a frantic obsession. I was surprised when she bought the new piano, we were still going for our music lessons.

When I asked “Can I go to Art Classes”

She was astonished and said “It’s an appalling waste of money. Who would pay for it? You can’t afford it, so you will have to forget it.”

As Ron and I sat opposite to Mam helping to make a hooky rug, or mat as they were called, he mentioned that he may soon be called up into the armed forces. This was something that I had never thought about, and I felt rather afraid at this. What would I do without Ron? I felt that he was gradually growing away from me, but I could not conceive the idea of him not being there. He had always been there.

“Oh, don’t talk like that.” I said. “Maybe they won’t send for you.”

We had been listening to the last but one episode of ‘The Four Feathers’, the last part was to be much later, at twelve midnight the following week. That was much too late for me, I wouldn’t be able to keep awake until then.

Mam said that when the time came she would wake me up to come down to hear it. But apparently when the time did come I couldn’t wake up, so I missed the last part. Ron told me the next day how it had ended, I was so glad that things turned out well for Harry Faversham, the main character in the story.

Once Ron and I walked much further than usual, along past The Three Horse Shoes, down the long straight mile then turned left in the direction of Wynyard. Just before we got to Wynyard I noticed a hen trying to reach the berries on a bush. I picked some of the berries for the hen which it gobbled up, another hen came, then another. Ron and I spent quite a while feeding the hens with berries. We turned back for home and I turned to see if the hens were following us, but they were staggering all over the place. We had not thought that the berries may be harmful to the them, but they definitely seemed to be doped. I hoped that the hens would recover.

Dad bought Ron a bicycle and said that he had made arrangements for one for me also. I was overjoyed about this, I had never had a bike, so I would have to learn how to ride it. The following week my bike arrived, it was made from the parts of other old bikes fastened together and painted powder blue. After a few days learning to ride Ron and I set off to go to Wingate to see Gran and Granddad Davey. I quite enjoyed the ride even though the sight of my bike turned a few heads. When we arrived, Granddad seeing us through the window came out to meet us.

“What on earth’s that?” he said taking hold of my bike as I dismounted. As Granddad Davey lifted it over the step and down to the path, the cross bar gave way and the bike did the splits.

“My God!” he said “Have you rode this all the way here,? it has no screws holding it together, it’s a death trap. To think that you have come down banks, and at what speed goodness only knows. Who on earth made it?”

“I’m not sure Granddad, but I think Dad made it down in his garage.”

When we were ready to go home, Granddad gave me money for the bus, and Ron biked home by himself. My blue wonder wagon stayed in Granddad’s shed in bits. I did eventually get another bike, it was beautiful, all shining bright. The spokes gleamed and the handle bars looked like they were plated with silver. The back wheel was strung over with a dress guard and the top frame bar was shaped like the neck of a swan. Yes it was a real grand affair. The only thing was that I didn’t have a bustle dress, and there wasn’t a vintage rally anywhere for me to show it. Nevertheless I didn’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings, so I said nothing and just rode it. It was very hard to peddle, but Dad said the exercise would do me good. Sometimes people asked me if I had got it from The Hartlepool Museum, but after they had their little amusement they had to admit that it was beautiful. I never did know where it came from, or how much it had cost, I was told that “it cost money and fair words.” It probably didn’t cost very much, as Mam was not in the habit of allowing money to be spent, especially on me. It was ironic that the only new dress that she ever bought for me was the one that was christened with a wet cow patt. What few dresses I had were hand-me-downs from my cousin Nancy. Mam knitted jumper suits for me, she said it was much cheaper than buying clothes, and oh, how they did itch. I don’t think I ever had a new coat, I certainly had never been into a shop with her to choose anything. I had to wear whatever she thought fit, even her old dresses, which were far too big for me. I could never understand why she was so mean, we were not poor, in fact we were quite well off. But Mam had this compulsion to save. She even had Dad solder up my money box, so that I could not spend from it. Dad often had the soldering iron out, as she often broke the expanding links of my gold watch strap. It got uglier and uglier with blobs of solder, because she would not pay the jeweller to repair it properly. I feared that by the time it would be given to me, there would be nothing of it left. As Ron was now working nightshift at the canteen he was home when I was not, so Mam and he went to town more often to see new films that were being shown. One time they went two days running, and Ron collapsed, from exhaustion, the doctor said. He had not been having any sleep in the mornings, when he had finished work. He had not slept for about fifty-six hours. He had long since outgrown the pains in his legs, but he paid for this last episode by having to spend a week in bed.

Soon Ron was well again, and said that he would like to see ‘They Died With Their Boots On’ a film that was showing at The Picture House in West Hartlepool. Jim Robinson told me that he would like to see this film, and we could all go together. He would already be in West Hartlepool that Saturday visiting his Grandmother, she lived in South Road, near the Cenotaph. When I asked Ron about this he said it would be O K. I told Jim we would meet him outside The Picture House for the start of the big film. Saturday came and just as we were going out for the bus, Mam told me to go and get a loaf of bread from the shop. I mentioned that this would cause me to miss the bus, but this Mam said, made no difference. I still had to go for the bread and Ron was to go on without me. I could always go on the next bus. I went to the shop as instructed, and Ron went to keep my date. By the time I got to the cinema the main film was half over, and it was all dark when I was shown to my seat by the usherette. At half-time the lights went on and the ice-cream girl came out, I looked about me for Ron and Jim. They were sat just a little way in front of me, and had kept me a seat, hoping that I could make it. I promptly occupied it. Ron kept my secret and he agreed that there was no harm in my seeing Jim, just this once.

On Sunday afternoon it was most unusual for Mam to get the mat frames out. She asked me to sit with her, and make the last section of the rug. She wanted to finish it quickly she said, as we may be moving house to West Hartlepool if all went well with the purchase of the house. I guess that she had finally persuaded Dad to go. Mam didn’t often talk socially, it was always just question and answer with her, but today she seemed to want to chat. She talked about her family, her sisters, her father and her brother.

“Your brother,” I said. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yes, he was killed in the last war. He was a nice lad. He ran away and joined up, lying about his age. A few months later, just after his eighteenth birthday we got a telegram from the War Office. He had been killed. Our poor Sonny, just Ronnie’s age, killed before he had lived.”

I thought maybe the fact that Ron might be shortly called up was reminding her of her younger brother. Hannah was the eldest of her sisters, many more of them than I had met. She said that Gran Harriman had seventeen children, but they did not all live. There were seven girls who grew up to adulthood and Sonny, the other nine all died very young. Her father, Jessie, also died in the Great War.

It was war time again so I think memories were flooding back and she felt sad. I think she also felt a little bitter that the pleasures of youth had deserted her. She had spent such a long time in hospital as a young girl, and to have her face spoilt at only eleven years old must have been hard for her. She was quite a learned person, doing most of her lessons at home. She spoke of the time when her brother Sonny was accused of something which he insisted he had not done, but he was ordered by the bench to be flogged. Later the culprit was caught, but poor Sonny had been birched and this could not be undone. Our Cat ‘O’ Nine Tails always hung on the hook by the door. Dad always said he was proud of the fact that he had never had cause to use it. I think that every household had one of these, ours was left on its hook when we moved.

We finished the rug and Mam cut it away from the frames. I put the frames into the cupboard where they were kept. The new rug looked quite nice, it was all wool made from old jumpers which we had cut into strips. The rag man never got any of our old woollies now, Mam had found a better use for them.

“Shall I make you a cup of tea, Mam?”

“Yes, that would be nice. There’s a two pound bag of sugar in the pantry for you to make us some toffee, you might get some of it this time.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, I’d never known her do anything like this. Never asking me to do anything, or thanking me either. It was always instructions and scolding, as if she was afraid to show any affection.

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