My Life Story
Early Life
I was born Annette Louise Marshall on the 14th of July 1952 in Hull, Yorkshire. My father said that I arrived at teatime but I can’t remember whether he said 5:35 pm or 6:35 pm. My parents lived in a flat above a wet fish shop, named Polar Fisheries, and I was born at home. Apparently it was a difficult forceps delivery.
Hull had been badly bombed during the war: around 86,700 houses in the city, about 95% of the total, had been damaged or destroyed and of these more than 5,000 were completely destroyed. Only about 6,000 houses were left undamaged. As a result of the bombing, approximately 1,200 people were killed, 3,000 injured and, out of a population of 320,000, around 152,000 were made homeless. Consequently, there was a severe shortage of housing. Many new council houses were being built and in October 1953 we moved from 368 Anlaby Road to one of the new estates, Longhill, on the east side of the city. I think that this was a big step for my parents as it was quite different from the area in which they had grown up, away from family and friends, and a much longer journey to work by bike or bus for my father. However, they seemed to settle quite well into the new house. They gradually made new friends and they remained there for the rest of their lives.
My dad, Henry, had been in the Navy during the war and had travelled the world. As a gunner he had survived his ship sinking after it was bombed off Crete in May 1942. He had suffered minor injuries which had affected one of his eyes and his hearing. After the ship was sunk there was no news of him back in Hull for three weeks but thankfully all was well and he returned after the war to marry his childhood sweetheart Edith (Edie) on 21st December 1946, the shortest day, which led to a lot of jokes apparently. It was a foggy day and the photographs did not come out. They had some taken the following May, minus bouquet and corsage. They spent their short honeymoon in Leeds, as Auntie Mabel and Uncle Norman (Grandma’s brother) who had “given the bride away” stayed on in Hull after the wedding.
My parents lived with my widowed maternal grandmother, Ada, for several years. My Dad said many years later that Ada was easy to live with. I was surprised by this comment as she was an extremely strong character!
Dad’s parents lived less than a quarter of a mile from my Grandma’s house. My Grandad Marshall was a chief engineer in the Merchant Navy and he was therefore away a lot. My dad told me that he often travelled to Toledo and Valencia in Spain and Malo in Denmark. Sometimes if he docked in Liverpool for a short period my Grandma would travel by train to meet him. When I was 3 or 4 my dad took me onto Grandad’s ship when it docked in Hull. I remember seeing his cabin but I was terrified when Dad carried me down into the engine room to see where he worked. It seemed so steep and far down.
Occasionally the other grandchildren and I would wait by our grandparents’ garden gate until we could see Grandad come into view. We were then allowed to run across the road to the green to greet him. He died when I was 6, but I remember him as a very kind man who used to give me Cadbury’s chocolate and threepenny bits. Grandma was quite scary and all my cousins felt the same. Her house was quite dark and we were all expected to sit quietly. She was a bit of a recluse but my older cousins report that she had been a different character when with Grandad. They would go into central Hull to one of the oldest pubs. Apparently she laughed a lot when he was around. This was not the Grandma we all knew! Dad told me that his parents had their quarrels and disagreements, as we all do, and I think that knowing this helps to put things into perspective when things do not go as we would wish!
My other Grandma (Meggitt) was quite the opposite. She was a lively, gregarious person with a large extended family and she liked to organise everyone. Two of her ten siblings lived in the same street and she was very involved in their families until her death. The two sisters who lived near, one next door but two and the other diagonally opposite, had lots of children between them but my grandma had only my mum. She therefore had more time and resources to help the others out and I have been told by her nieces and great niece that she did just that. She helped out with births, deaths and illness. My cousin Eileen said that at age 19 she helped my grandma to lay out her grandmother (Grandma’s sister); they went to get her straight away. She was widowed in 1943 at 52 but she made a social life for herself by playing cards several times a week, for halfpennies or sometimes match sticks, in the local library at the top of the street where she lived.
She was also an avid reader, was always in the library,and did not have a television or a radio. She seemed to be quite well informed on current affairs although I’m not sure how she got her information - I don’t remember seeing any newspapers except those in which the fish and chips were wrapped! Hull being a fishing port, fresh fish was plentiful and in the area where she lived, Hessle Road and Gipsyville, there was sometimes a strong smell of fish from the fish dock and the factories. It was often very unpleasant travelling on the local buses with the fish workers.
One of my earliest memories was being in a pram on Holderness Road, in East Hull. I can picture it, we were quite a long way from home and I had a balloon tied to my pram which was being pushed by my mum. There are no photos of this but I remember it clearly. It is doubtful that my mother would have told me about such a fleeting, random thing in a particular place so I am sure that it is a memory. Apparently children were in prams for much longer then. Some boards were removed from the base to accommodate growing legs.
Similarly, I remember my first hair cut, which I was told was in John Lewis in Leeds. I was also told that I was about 15 months old. Again no photos, but I remember being excited by seemingly high seats resembling animals, which children sat on. I chose a horse. I had difficulty deciding even then! However, it may have been a later hair cut and not the first.
We all played out in the street from a very early age. I was allowed to play outside from the age of four with other local children. I loved the company as I was an only child. Two boys nearby were also only children but the others all came from much bigger families. We did not have a lot of money but thankfully we were not short and resources did not have to be shared with several siblings.
I loved playing schools with the older children as I was looking forward to starting school and I wanted to know about it! I was hugely disappointed when the children decided to play something else after lunch. After this I imagined school teachers as huge women who were strict and threatened children with sticks! Not far wrong as I progressed up the school! Fortunately my first teacher was nothing like that. I remember her as being very young and quite glamorous.
We were not allowed to go to the local drain (like a river but less appealing) or rather I wasn’t allowed to go. However, we did go and had to face the consequences, usually physical punishment, not horrendous, but I won’t dwell on it! One time as I was crawling under the hedge to the drain, having crossed a main road, a policeman hauled me out backwards and gave us all a lecture. I was the youngest. I still have nightmares about the risks we took playing there, then and much later. There was a rope swing over a subsidiary stream which was an attraction but I was too young for that. We had to make our own entertainment most of the time. Parents were consistently busy with domestic necessities and there were very few, if any activities for very young children.
I do not remember having many books before I went to school. They were prohibitively expensive then, but I had a comic, Jack and Jill, and once I could read I had books. My early fiction favourites were “Milly Molly Mandy” by Joyce Lankester Brisely and later “A Peep Behind the Scenes” by Mrs O.F. Walton. I also loved Enid Blyton’s “Famous Five” - sheer escapism for children. My favourite non-fiction book was a Reader’s Digest Junior Treasury. It really was a treasure. I gave my copy to the older grandchildren and I have bought another copy for the younger ones. Callie picks it up when she visits me in Devon.
Before I went to school I was knocked over by a young boy on a bicycle and was badly bruised, but I was very fortunate that it wasn’t worse. It was my fault as I hadn’t looked. I didn’t dare tell anyone as I knew that I would be in trouble so I didn’t go home until I had calmed myself.
I eventually started school in the September after my fifth birthday in July. I couldn’t wait, but the reality was that I didn’t know anyone so I was a bit lost. However, I got some kudos as I was the only one who could tie shoe laces, thanks to my Dad. This backfired though as I ended up tying everyone’s shoe laces several times a day, alongside the teacher.
I had also been taught to write my name. I had to relearn though, to write in lowercase letters rather than capitals. Being left handed I had some difficulties with the letter e as I went from right to left. I found that very frustrating and felt stupid. I loved learning to read on Janet and John, a look and say method. We did learn phonics too so I was well taught and fortunately did not really experience any further major difficulties.
The first teacher was Miss Pettingale. I went to school by myself after the first few days. I went home for lunch and one day my mum didn’t come for me. I really didn’t know what to do. I was terrified of being in trouble if I went by myself but in the end I did. It was ok as she had been held up and had hoped that I would go home. It involved crossing a main road with buses and I really was in a dilemma as I had been told to wait. I had been contemplating what punishment would befall me so I was extremely relieved.
Miss Pettingale was lovely but I was frightened of the next teacher, Mrs Kell, who always seemed to be slapping people for minor misdemeanours. I liked Mrs Baxter but I was always in trouble for talking and once for putting a plaster on a boy’s mouth. I was very upset as Gordon, the boy, and I were having great fun until the teacher came along. I was 6 and I hated being told off.
The next teacher, Mrs Robinson, didn’t like me. She once accused me of not saying thank you when I had. I protested which didn’t go down well! I have awful memories of the smell of sour milk in that class. The small bottles froze in the winter and went off very quickly in the summer. I trapped my fingers very badly when I was in that class and lost a nail -ouch!
When we first moved to Longhill there were no shops. They were on the next estate where my mum later worked. The doctor was based there too but would visit at home if you were a Longhill resident and too ill to walk to the surgery.
We were served by a grocer’s and other vans which visited on different days of the week. Children were sent out to get the items and I once lost the 6d change on the way back. When very young I touched something at the front of the Co-op van which my mum had no intention of buying. I was in so much trouble that I thought that I might end up in jail!
Eventually shops did open on Longhill and we also had a pub, The Dart, where we would queue to buy sweets on the way to school: Black Jacks, Palma Violets, sweet cigarettes and crisps with packets of salt in them. Milk was delivered every day and the coal man delivered the fuel. I believe that coal was still rationed until the early 50s. It was common and accepted practice to count the bags of coal to ensure that it was correct as it would be easy for the coal man to lose count. The coal man, the window cleaner and others all lived on the estate and had big families.
My favourite toys were dolls, prams and dolls’ houses. I liked the play house at school but was I was often disgruntled because it seemed that I was rarely chosen to go in it. My mum used to give away my old toys when I was at school. This affected me, I was very sad and angry and felt out of control. I still sometimes have trouble with parting with things. I need time to decide.
My dad and his friend Alan made me a wonderful shop out of hardboard and painted it pink. It had a separate shelf unit and a semi-circular counter with attached doors to close the gap between that and the shelves. Mum bought or saved me some empty packets, jars, etc, and the local children and I had a wonderful time with the cash register and pretend money. However, it took up a lot of space in our small house so it was not long before that disappeared too. To be fair, the novelty had probably worn off!
My grey Silver Cross dolls’ pram was my pride and joy. We went to town to choose it for my birthday and dad was told that it could not be delivered for another week. Everyone was very impressed when, desperate to have it, I suggested that Dad and I take it on the train to Sutton (in the Guard’s van) and walk the couple of miles home. I was rewarded when they agreed. Mum went home on the bus to get the tea ready and I proudly wheeled the pram all the way home. I think that I was six or seven. One day when I got home, that had been generously given to another child in the street, but my generosity was not as well developed as my mother’s!
During my early childhood I went to Sunday School at 2pm every week. It was about a mile away at the Kingston Wesley Methodist Church and I was taken until I was seven. I met my friend Ann Godfrey at age four and we remained friends until about 18 but lost touch then until we retired. We were reunited through the advent of social media (Facebook), which I see as a blessing although it gets a bad press. Ann says that she was jealous of my vanity case. I do not remember having a vanity case but I do remember having a small red suitcase for my treasures. The church was a huge part of my childhood and teenage years, and I later met my husband Peter there.
On to the Juniors where we were streamed. There were four or five classes in each year. I was always in the top stream but I was never at the very top. We sat according to our grading and gender. The grading was probably correct as, after the 11 plus, those at the very top went to the top schools. I was pretty consistent throughout my education, never top but percolating above average and I tried hard most of the time.
I enjoyed Brownies from 7. I had to walk to the bus stop and get the bus after the first few times. In the summer I would walk. Eventually some other girls in the street came with me. I was in the Pixies and then the Elves, and I enjoyed the “Lend a Hand” week where we earned money by doing jobs for neighbours and friends. Most people were kind but there were those who would give us hard, dirty work which they didn’t want to do themselves, such as cleaning ovens. This was before I was 7! I recently found an old chart which gave age-appropriate tasks for children. We would be shocked now as children are much more protected. From about 9 onwards, I had full responsibility for taking local babies and toddlers out and about. At 10, I took one of them to town on the bus!
A highlight of most weeks, from the age of about 7 or 8, was the Saturday morning matinée at the cinema on the next estate. This was just for children, most of whom were well behaved; if they were not then they were escorted out and banned. The first film I remember was “The Young Ones” with Cliff Richard. There were many more. When I was 10 a boy in the next class, Colin, asked my dad if he could take me to the cinema one evening, to the early showing. We had fish and chips afterwards but I don’t remember what we saw! It could have been the hugely successful “Summer Holiday”, again with Cliff Richard. I remember the film well and it was released around that time.
We made our own entertainment during the daytime when fathers were at work and mothers were usually busy doing household chores. We held our own concerts in people’s gardens and played in the streets and playing fields. We frequented the local parks, often spending the later part of the day there; a luxury was to be allowed to take a picnic. The largest park in Hull, East Park, had a water chute and there were nearly always enormous queues of excited children wanting to get wet, largely unsupervised!
For the last two years of primary school I had a teacher who was a sadistic bully. I say this as someone who has now had well over 40 years of working in schools and observing other teachers. He would use the blackboard ruler to cane the boys on a regular basis, for learning errors, and ridicule the children, telling us we would never be able to do anything useful. He would tell us that he was in a bad mood because he had an argument with his wife. He once played an April Fool by lining nearly half the class up to be caned. I was so terrified that I didn’t hear the punch line when everyone laughed with relief. I still do not appreciate this type of humour.
It was a miserable time. I misjudged my words once at age 10. He said that I undermined his authority and as a consequence he was going to deny the whole class any privileges; he was very hostile to us. I felt that it was my fault, but fortunately the other children did not hold it against me (as he had intended) and they held a meeting to decide what could be done about it. I think that maybe parents, not mine in this instance, became involved behind the scenes, as the local newsagent said that the teacher was more childish than all the children put together. I have to say that from the perspective of my seventies I agree. Maybe he had been traumatised by National Service or his own childhood, because he was too young to have fought in the war as many of our parents had.
However, this abuse was transparent. Hidden abuse was all too common and much of it has come to light decades later; chickens are still coming home to roost. Having described this, physical abuse in school was common. The Head was a kind man who must have had difficulty in managing this volatile teacher. He himself once publicly caned two boys who had pushed a pushchair into the local drain. It was horrifying as one of the boys was fighting him. The image has never left me but I was a clearly a sensitive child.
11-plus time arrived and I did very well in the mocks, known as the Preliminary. However, the night before the main exams were due to start I came out in a rash and felt very ill. My poor mum didn’t know what to do. She hoped that it was nerves but unfortunately it wasn’t. She took me to school and explained the situation to the Head who suggested that I sat apart from everyone else, did the exam and then went home, which I did for the next three days. We had English, Arithmetic and Intelligence tests. The idea was that they would see how I did. I now know that being in the top stream I was expected to pass and I did, but I often wonder if I could have done better as I didn’t go to the top school. However, some friends were not happy there and, from later results and college attainments, they achieved about the same level as me, bright enough but not super bright! Maybe I had a lucky escape. I went to a school nearer home; I was able to go on my bike rather than on two buses. However, secondary school was not plain sailing for me either- more of that later.
During my primary years, we got our first television, fridge, vacuum cleaner and washing machine. The washing machine had a mangle and I once got my fingers in it. In earlier times, this would have been catastrophic as it would have swallowed the whole arm, but fortunately the new models had a safety release when anything became trapped.
I hated wash day. It was always on a Monday, as in nearly all families, and if it was wet then I would come home to washing drying in the living room, our only room apart from the smallish kitchen where Mum would cook the evening meal ready for my dad arriving home. He went to work on his bike or the bus depending on the weather or how he felt. After he changed jobs he went on two buses until we got a car in my last year, 1963, of primary school. It was a 1956 green Ford Anglia and we loved it. Dad had passed his test in 1962 so, when I think about it, he was only driving a few years before I was!
We got a telephone when I was about 6. Hull has an independent telephone system and our neighbour, Len, worked for Hull Telephones. He was able to arrange for us to share a party line with them. It transformed our lives, no more going up the road to the call box with buttons A to connect or B to give back your 2 pennies if you couldn’t get through. The only problem with the joint line was that you couldn’t make or receive calls if the other party was using it. Having a phone meant that the grandmothers were able to ring, although Grandma Meggitt did not get a phone until many years later. She never had a television or a fridge. Another Ada, a relative who ran the shop at the top of the street, gave her small portions of butter, etc, and she used sterilised milk which lasted for a few days. The milkman delivered milk daily and he also used to deliver small bottles of orange juice which I enjoyed.
I have been told by relatives that my mother was very attractive when she was young and I believe she had quite a lot of admirers. She met my dad through her cousin Albert when she was 15. They married after the war, when she was almost 27. She did not have me until she was 32. She therefore had quite a lot of working years, enjoying many of those in what was known as “The Silk Shop” in the city centre, both before and after she worked on munitions during the war, a dangerous job. Uncle Albert told me that my mum used to come out of the silk shop to see him off whenever he went away during the war. The station was not far from where she worked. Uncle Albert was a Japanese prisoner of war and came back quite emaciated, but he survived longer than anyone else! He died a couple of days after his 100th birthday. He received his telegram from the Queen, but sadly he was too ill to enjoy that or the celebration his daughters had arranged for him. I had travelled up to Hull for that so I was able to say a last goodbye.
Albert had been a very close friend of my dad’s when they were young: they both went to Selby Street Primary School . My mum was quite bright and passed her 11 plus even though she had had her left hand tied behind her back to make her right handed. As a result she was quite ambidextrous. I am left handed but fortunately did not have to endure such an ordeal. She left Thoresby school before she took her school certificate and went to work I believe in the Silk Shop.
My perception is that my mum found it very hard to adjust to domesticity and motherhood. She felt quite isolated and she needed both intellectual stimulation and a social life which I fully understand. My dad did thankfully appreciate this and managed to get my mum a job in the firm where he worked, at the dry cleaners in one of their shops. It wasn’t far from where we lived and it would take her about 15 to 20 minutes to walk there. It would have been ideal had the social climate been different.
I either walked to the shop after school or would go halfway by bus because my school was in the opposite direction. Mum really enjoyed working in the shop, but unfortunately she was ostracised by other women, the neighbours, and people implying that I would suffer and that my dad couldn’t keep her or was henpecked, which was very obviously not true. They were both the targets of acerbic tongues but it didn’t worry my dad. He was ahead of his time, both in his views of women and in the way he treated me. An additional pressure on my mother was that she used to rush home at lunchtime to get me my lunch and then go back to work. In the end she stopped work and that was a further source of frustration for her. Of course I did not fully understand this at the time, but it affected her health and her moods. I experienced similar negative social pressure when I wanted to return to work after my first baby but things are very different now and many mothers work. In fact there seems to be a pressure on mothers to work now. However, it is still a very difficult, taxing, guilt-inducing and often thankless task.
My mum was very talented at knitting and she excelled at it. I still have two jumpers which she knitted for me before she died in 1976 and they have been going through the washing machine for 50 years, although I do not wear them too often now. She was always a keen reader and used the library regularly. She would do her housework in the morning and read or knit in the afternoon, often getting washed and changed before my dad came home. I do not remember when that stopped, maybe when she was working full time.
When I was in my early teens my mum got another part time job in the local wool shop. She was in her element at that time, sharing her expertise and chatting with the customers, most of whom lived on the estate. I think that she was still working there when she died aged 56. The shop also sold clothes so a lot of her earnings would be spent on those and things for me. Like my grandma she always loved clothes. People still comment on this when we discuss her. The love of clothes passed on to me but I have far more now, as fast fashion, cheaper clothes and charity shops have enabled me to expand my collection. This is not a good thing but it is an interest and I always have something to wear!
In my later years people do not dress up as much as they did when I was a child. We had “best” outfits. My mum loved hats and often wore one even though they were going out of fashion except for church, weddings and funerals. This was a bit of an embarrassment for me. An acquaintance of my mum also wore hats and her daughter, Valerie, and I used to joke and commiserate with one another. I also love hats but I rarely wear them.
Family holidays are treasured memories. In 1956 and 57, dad pushed the boat out and we went to Robin Hoods Bay; quite an adventure and source of memories that I treasure and often refer to. We had a taxi to Paragon station in Hull, unheard of for people like us. We then went to Scarborough on the train, changed trains and took the coast route to Whitby. They were steam trains then and, as a four-year-old, I was mesmerised by the view of the coast. It was a long journey but very exciting and when we arrived at Robin Hoods Bay the coal man was waiting with his horse and cart to take our luggage down to our cottage at the bottom of the hill. It was Gallery Cottage, which is an old house on the corner at the bottom of the hill as you go down into the village. I loved it! My bedroom looked over the street and because it was quiet I was allowed to go to the newsagents across the road to get shopping and to spend my pocket money. We spent days at the beach or exploring the area. One time we came across a bullock. My dad lifted me into a cordoned off area which must have been for electricity. He chased it off but I was very scared. We so loved the holiday that we returned the next year. The North York Moors remain a favourite area and I still visit when I can. Robin Hoods Bay is much more commercialised now and when I suggested taking dad back, by then he was in his 80s, a lady who owned a property there advised me not to return because she said that the memories would be spoilt for him. We didn’t go as dad was ill.
Other holidays were more traditional and in keeping with what most people did in Hull. They stayed at a nearby seaside resort where relatives could visit during the week. The nearest coastal resorts, Aldborough, Hornsea, Withernsea and, further afield, Bridlington were also ideal for special family days out. Scarborough, a favourite holiday destination of many, was further away and although a day trip was possible, it was not a usual choice. We sometimes visited friends and relatives who were staying in Hornsea or Withernsea, but we went to Bridlington for our week. Both grandmothers came on separate days to visit us by train.
We loved our holidays there: days on the beach, often wrapped up in the rain, boat trips, and dancing at the Bridlington Spa Hall. My parents loved dancing and I did too. We went most evenings there and some afternoons for a Tea Dance. I learned lots of dances then but unfortunately when I met my husband, because he hated dancing, that aspect of my life did not continue. I always dance when I can though and I still enjoy it.
My dad worked in an office doing accounts. He later gained accountancy qualifications over many years at Night School, as it was known. He became a Company Secretary and then a Director. For some inexplicable and unknown reason he had failed his 11 plus. My dad seemed to be well educated and informed. He had several interests, astronomy being the main one and cricket another. I found both boring and cricket matches seemed interminable!
At the weekends Dad would take me, from being a toddler, out into the countryside on his bike. There were lots of bikes in Hull then (as it is flat), many with toddler seats on the back but I had a seat in the crossbar. I enjoyed the trips out but I didn’t like the smell of manure. I got my own bike when I went to secondary school in 1963.
Mum and Dad had a tandem for a while and we went to the seaside on it, sometimes with other families. I had a seat on that too. Once we all had cars, sometimes a group of neighbours would go together to the coast in the summer. Hardly anyone owned a car until about the time I was 10, when we got ours. Gloria’s dad had one when they moved in nearby and a few more began to appear around that time.
For my 11th birthday party, my dad drove me and a few of my friends to Bridlington so that we could go to a dance, one of my favourite holiday activities. It was a tight squeeze in the car, no seatbelts were legally required then, but it was a really memorable and successful evening.
A highlight of my childhood was that Brenda and Ernie next door had a bubble car. I used to look after their baby, Alison, and they would take me with them when they went out for the day or to visit friends and relatives. I knew all their friends and relatives as if they were my own family. The bubble car was great fun, but very temperamental and was always breaking down, much to Uncle Ernie’s frustration. He worked as a joiner and if he was ever out of work he would travel long distances to find some; unusual then. My dad once went to tow him home from Scarborough, 90 minutes away. The neighbours were certainly not well off but they helped each other and were amazing when my dad was very ill and at the end of his life. I have remained close to Brenda, Ernie and Alison, although they moved to a bigger house when I was 14.
When I was young I do not think that children were encouraged to express their fears and worries as they are today. A bad period in our lives was when my Auntie Joan, dad’s sister, died very suddenly in her early forties. She had been widowed many years earlier so my cousins were suddenly left without their parents. Frank and Maureen were around 22 and 20, but Pat was only 14. Frank called dad and he went straight over to the other side of the city on his bike. I was 8 and I was terrified that this would happen to my dad too, but I could not verbalise it. I had nightmares, but of course this was nothing compared to what my cousins went through. They all came to stay at different times and shared my room. I spent some time at their house too, but internally I was worried about what had happened there. It took some time for arrangements to be made for Frank to have parental responsibility for Pat. Thank goodness he was over the age of majority, 21 then.
I knew that there was something really huge going on and I had to be on my best behaviour. I loved having Pat around but we couldn’t discuss the situation. There is a big difference in maturity between 14 and 8. Then people went to work at 14 or 15. Pat has said very recently that no one really told her what was going on and she didn’t fully understand. My cousins also spent time with my paternal (their maternal) Grandma but she was a very ”stiff upper lip” person and did not want any crying!
Maureen was always very kind to me. She forgave any lapses in impeccable behaviour and kept her promise not to tell my mother. I would have known about it if she had done so! It was the culture then and my mother was determined not to spoil her only child. Only children were often referred to as ”spoilt” because of their status, warranted or not! I have to admit that I was never wanting for food, clothes or toys. I longed for a pet and eventually I had a yellow budgie, courtesy of my godfather. I named her Beauty.
© 2026 A L Blundred