When my first day at school arrived, my sisters took me into the infants’ classroom where I met my teacher, Miss Kaye. I had a badge pinned on to my jumper with my name printed in bold letters – DAISY LEE – I was then told to sit at one of the desks. I felt quite grown-up and excited.
However, when I realised my sisters were all in different classrooms my excitement turned to tears. I thought they had abandoned me, and for the first time I was on my own. We had lessons in the morning, followed by games in the afternoon, and we then had to have a rest on very hard camp beds. When my sisters came to collect me I started to cry again, as I had thought I would not see them any more. After the first few days I soon settled into school life.
My week now consisted of school from Monday to Friday. Saturday was a free day for playing with friends. Apart from the time we spent with Mum around the piano, Sunday was a very busy time for the family. Everyone was dressed in their best clothes, we went to church morning and evening, and in the afternoon we went to Sunday school. Then we had to find time to visit our Gran, Dad’s Mother, and other relatives. I think Gran was glad when our visit was over and sometimes she would not even ask us in. I thought Gran was a miserable old lady and I was always glad to go back home. Our house smelt lovely on a Sunday, as Mum would bake jam tarts and what we called rock cakes (they were like little fruit cakes). We had some with our tea, and the rest were stored in a tin for various visitors during the week.
The evenings that stand out in my mind are Friday evenings, which were bath night in our house. With seven children and two adults this took quite a lot of organising. Dad would have to heat all the water over the open fire, then the tin bath was brought in from the back yard and placed in front of the fire.
When there was sufficient hot water Mum would start to wash us and Dad would be ready with a clean towel to dry us. The water was never emptied, just topped up with hot water. Whoever was last ended up with water more dirty then clean. So much for hygiene. Dad would then carry the youngest of us on his shoulders up to bed, while the older girls were allowed to stay up a bit later.
Time went by and there was another addition to the family. My Mother, to the delight of my Father, had another son. They named him Brian Fredrick. However, all was not well with our Mum this time, as the midwife was not too particular as regards cleanliness and Mum picked up an infection. The doctor told Dad that she was seriously ill with septicaemia, and would have to be admitted to hospital. The neighbours rallied round to help Dad, cooking meals and doing the laundry, as he could not afford to stay home and look after us. My elder sisters had to make sure we attended school and looked clean and tidy, and the new baby was cared for by my Mother’s friend.
I suppose Mum was in hospital for a few weeks, but to our family it seemed an age before she came home looking very thin and frail. All of us were delighted to welcome her home, but it was a while before she was her old hard-working self.
It was now 1938, a year before the Second World War. My eldest sister Emma, always known as ‘Emm’, had left school and was working. She seemed very grown-up to me. This left five girls of school age, my sisters Anne, Lillian, Mary, Kathleen and me, and my two brothers at home with Mum. Everything seemed to be going well for our family, but without any warning, disaster struck. Our Dad had a major heart attack while at work. He would never be able to work again. Mum left us at home when she rushed to the hospital, so we knew something serious had happened, as we had never been left on our own before. It was very late when our Mum returned, she looked so worried and we could see that she had been crying. We were told that our Dad was seriously ill, and would be in hospital a long time. It was a very subdued family who went to bed that night.
