It was not long after Anne’s wedding that Mum received a letter from our Gran. In it she wrote that she was prepared to have the older children to stay with her, but only one at a time, to help Mum out. I was very reluctant to go when it was my turn, as Gran had never made us welcome when we had visited her. Gran had moved from the East-End of London to live in Kent with her son, who was our uncle Fred. Although uncle Fred was my Dad’s brother, he was totally different in appearance, and was a highly educated man. He was tall and slim, and although not handsome, had a nice looking face. He spoke with a gentle voice and had a lovely smile. His work took him away from home for long hours, as he was one of the top administrative managers at the local hospital. Uncle Fred was very nice to me during my stay, and took an interest in what I had been doing while he was at work. When he was talking to me, I found out that it was actually his idea for us to stay with them to give Mum a break. I thought it was unlike Gran to invite us.
Gran lived in a large corner house, with gardens on three sides. There were three bedrooms, dining room, parlour, kitchen, and what to me was absolute luxury, an indoor bathroom and lavatory downstairs. The house was quite full of people while I was there. It was near the coast, and nearby was an air-force base, which was crowded with airmen. Gran had three air-force men billeted on her, and as the war was still raging, she could not refuse to have them, though she never stopped moaning about the inconvenience. Then Gran’s daughter, my aunt Phoebe, arrived with her son who was also named Fred. There were now eight people living in the house. It never worried me as I had always lived in a crowded home, but Gran found it very hard, as she was used to having the house to herself during the day.
I slept in Gran’s large bedroom which had two double beds. Gran and aunt Phoebe slept in one bed, leaving the other bed for me. It seemed strange to have the whole bed to myself.
As we were near the coast, on most evenings we could see both the German, and our planes, coming and going over the coastline. One night I remember watching a German plane which was caught in the searchlights, and our planes were firing their guns at it, when it suddenly nose-dived. Gran said it would have crashed into the sea. I kept thinking of how frightened the men must have felt in the German plane.
As I would be staying at Gran’s for some weeks, I had to go to the local school, along with my cousin Fred. It was a lovely brick-built school, and was situated at the end of a tree-lined avenue. The school was half-empty as so many children had been evacuated. One day as I was walking home from school, my cousin started chasing me, and I fell over a large milestone. I can remember the pain as I fell on my arm, and how quickly it started to swell. My cousin looked very worried, as I think he was afraid of what Gran would say. By the time we arrived back home, the pain in my arm was making me cry, and Gran could see that I had really hurt myself. Gran said I would have to go to the doctor’s, as she thought I had broken it.
The doctor examined my arm, and told Gran to take me to the local hospital as he suspected that I had fractured a bone. By now the pain in my arm was quite bad, and when I heard the doctor mention the hospital, I started to cry. I associated hospitals with very ill people, and my Dad dying. I received no sympathy from Gran. Even though I was upset and in pain, she was more annoyed about the inconvenience to her. She started grumbling about having to get the bus, and how long it would take. Gran turned to me and said: “So this is how you repay all my kindness to you, I shall be glad when you go back to your Mother.” By the time I came out of the hospital with my arm in plaster, I was feeling very sorry for myself. The only comment Gran made was that it was a good job it was my left arm, as I would still be able to write, so I could attend school. She said: “I don’t want you under my feet all day.”
Uncle Fred was home from work by the time we arrived back. Gran told him what an exhausting afternoon it had been for her. All uncle Fred said was that I should have something to eat and then go to bed, as I looked ill. He told Gran to keep me home from school until my arm was less painful. Turning to me, he said that while I was away from school, I could read the books he kept in a glass cabinet in the parlour, as long as I took great care with them. The next morning I came downstairs, quite excited at the thought of looking at uncle Fred’s books, especially the row of encyclopaedias on the bottom shelf. I went into the parlour and tried to open the book cabinet, but it was locked. I asked Gran where the key was, but she made out she had no idea where the key was kept. I knew she was lying, but when uncle Fred asked me what books I had been reading, I said I had been in the garden all day, and not looked at any books. I was frightened of Gran being cross if I mentioned not finding the keys.
That evening uncle Fred was reading in the parlour, and I noticed the keys in the book cabinet. I asked my uncle if I could keep the keys until the morning, and then I would not have to trouble Gran for them. He said that he liked to keep the cabinet locked, but he would show me where he kept the keys. Gran was not very pleased with this arrangement, saying that I would not look after the books. Luckily for me uncle Fred ignored her, and I spent many happy hours reading.
In Gran’s garden was a large apple tree full of fruit, and underneath the tree there were a few apples lying on the ground, which I would help myself to. Then one day Gran came out and told me she was going shopping, as she was leaving she said: “I hope you’re not stealing those apples, as I know exactly how many there are.” I never ate another apple after that, as I really believed that Gran knew how many there were on the tree and ground.
Gran kept a few chickens in the garden, which was a source of fresh eggs, a luxury during the war. My job was to boil their food on Gran’s cooker in the kitchen. I do not know what went into the pot, but to this day I can remember the horrible smell that filled the kitchen as it began to boil, but Gran never seemed to notice it. At last, one day Gran said I was going home. Although I was sorry to say goodbye to uncle Fred, and knew that I would miss reading his books, I could not wait to get to get back to Wales, away from Gran.
