My entry into this world on November 2nd 1933 was followed by my Father’s exit as he slammed the street door shut. He was on his way to the pub, not to celebrate my birth, but to try and forget his bitter disappointment at being presented not with the son he yearned for, but a sixth daughter. I can only wonder how my Mother must have felt.
My family lived in Hackney Wick, East London. We had a small terraced house with two rooms up and two rooms down – no bathroom or indoor lavatory. In those cramped conditions lived six children and two adults. At that time there was severe hardship and poverty in our area, and most of our neighbours found it very hard to feed and clothe the large families they had. Dad being in regular employment meant we always had good hot dinners, tidy clothes and a clean comfortable home.
My Father, George Charles Lee, was a house decorator and carpenter. He worked long hours and earned a good wage. He was a warm loving man, with a quick violent temper. He was stocky in build, fair-haired and had the most beautiful blue eyes. He was a great help to my Mother in the home, which in those days was very unusual. Although he longed for a son, he took a great pride in how his six daughters looked and behaved. We were never allowed to wait outside public houses if our parents were having a drink inside, even though it was a regular sight to see children of all ages waiting until late at night for their parents to come out. Dad made sure we were home, with my eldest sister looking after us. He made many of our dresses on an old sewing machine, and our shoes were kept in good repair with cheap leather he bought at the local market.
My Mother, Emma Elizabeth Lee, like the majority of women in those days, was a housewife. She was slim in build, and had very good posture which gave the impression of her being tall. She had lovely high cheek bones, complemented by her clear almost porcelain looking skin. I remember whatever tasks she was doing in the home, her appearance was quite fashionable and always very clean. She loved entertaining us on a Sunday afternoon by playing the piano. She had never had a piano lesson but had the gift of playing any of the popular tunes of the day. We all enjoyed this as it was the only day of the week the parlour was unlocked, so it seemed special to us. Though not a woman to show her emotions, being easily embarrassed, she cared dearly for her husband and her family.
With six children and a husband to look after, she worked very hard in the home. Monday being washday was the worst day for her, as you can imagine the amount of washing she had to do. There were no labour-saving machines in those days, and everything had to be washed by hand, rinsed, and then put through the mangle. Once dry, it all had to be ironed with flat irons heated on the fire.
Three years after my birth, my Mother was expecting again, and the baby was due any day. There were no scans in those days to let you know the sex of the baby. This time there would be cause for celebration – at last a long-awaited son is born, named after my Father, George Charles Lee.
Our family now seemed complete. Life was happy for us, apart from the occasional rows between my Mother and Father – these were mainly to do with money, or one of us misbehaving. When this happened we all tried to keep away from our Dad, as he would lash out in temper. I can remember he hit me with a copper stick making red weals on my legs when I misbehaved one day. He was always sorry when his temper had cooled down.
Looking back, our days at that time seemed to be spent in perpetual sunshine. The street was our playground, as apart from the occasional horse and cart, the road was traffic-free and ideal for our games.
All the children joined in, and as most families were large it could be quite a gathering. We had a season for playing whip and top, marbles, kick the can, hopscotch and cigarette cards. I do not recall the rules we had to abide by, but there was many an argument when they were broken. If anyone did not behave themselves, one of the neighbours would soon let our parents know. Then you were in real trouble.
Read more…
“There’s A war on and we can’t waste food”
Emm and Anne visit for Christmas
Eating the fruit and losing the potatoes
The family’s last Christmas together
Another sister and more freedom
“I shall be glad when you go back to your mother”
One of the dirtiest friends Mum ever made
“That’s the girl I’m going to marry”
Memories
“Do you want to go over there, or over here?”
One of the most bizarre days of my life
