My Life Story by Colin Lloyd - Part 6

MFI Gatehouse security

By March, Margaret had been made redundant from Plessey and was working at a chocolate packing factory in Brackmills. I had been told I was being made redundant from MFI, as they had to lose one security guard and as I was only gatehouse security I would be the one to go. They offered me a job working in the canteen. I gave it a try but it affected my back, so after three weeks I told them I would take the redundancy. Whilst looking for another security job I worked for Kelly’s Agency at GE Lighting, packing light bulbs. This wasn't too bad because if you did overtime you got a free breakfast and that was full English.

GE Lighting

Lady's Lane

In June 1990, I applied and got a job with security at Barclaycard on Marefair. It was very interesting working on reception and I did the odd patrol at night. We did hourly patrols. We also covered the Barclaycard buildings over the bus station and the Crown Court in Lady’s Lane. I occasionally went to Golden Wonder at Corby. Whilst there we would be given vouchers for boxes of crisps etc. And sometimes I would come home with a full boot. Margaret was also bringing home bags of chocolates for 50p each so nephews never went short of crisps or sweets. 

Margaret and I continued going to Newquay for our holidays and we made friends with a disabled couple. I tried to teach Margaret how to play snooker, but the only thing she managed to pot was the white. We went to Land’s End in 1993 and went down into the cavern but I became claustrophobic and had to come out. (Photos 7,8 & 9) 

 

Margaret had a younger brother, Michael, who was born in 1940. When he was 4 years old he ran out of the house and because the sun temporarily blinded him, he smashed into the air raid shelter in the street. This caused him to suffer brain damage. Contact was lost with him until his brother Fred received a call from the General Hospital in 1990. Michael was in Linwood Nursing Home in East Park Parade. Whilst he was in hospital I went to visit him and often took him to see his mother. He died before his mother and was buried in Kingsthorpe Cemetery. 

We also took Uncle Bill and his wife to Bognor Regis to see Aunt Gladys, his sister. Margaret and I went into town so they could spend some time together. Margaret bought a watch for £4.99 and it was accurate right up to the time she passed away in 2009.

I received a phone call from the security manager at Barclaycard offering me a position as security at the stationary store in Quorn Way, just off St. Andrews Road. The stationary was going to be outsourced to a private company and they wanted someone to keep an eye on things. This meant that I worked as a picker and packer until they closed at 4pm and then going over to Barclaycard in Marefair until 7pm. I accepted this and it turned out to be very interesting as I learnt to operate a cherry picker. This was a ramp that would lift me up to the top of the warehouse shelving. The manageress of the stationary was Mrs Sue Heydon and all the staff there made me feel very welcome, plus the foreman at Quorn Way was John McDonald, who I had worked with while I was on the buses.                                                                                                                                                                   

We would also go and see Jenny’s in-laws at Mablethorpe.  Tina, the dog, was put in the dog run, but within 10 minutes, would be scratching at the door. We also kept having the family down for Christmas parties. Margaret’s niece had become engaged and she asked if she could bring her fiancé down to meet us. Because his name was Heath, Derek, Margaret’s brother, was convinced he was coloured. When they arrived I let them in. When Kerry got Margaret on her own she asked her what she thought of Heath. Margaret said, “I’ve only one thing to say”, Kerry’s face dropped, Margaret continued, “I wish I had met him first”. He was a lovely chap. They met when Kerry was working at Billing Mill behind the bar and he was a bouncer. 

Mablethorpe

I was made redundant at Barclaycard in Nov 1993 and was taken on by a company known as Ambassador Security. My job was as a security officer at a pc distribution centre in Sketty Close, which is situated on Brackmills Industrial Estate. This was boring because all I had to do was sit and watch the warehouse door for deliveries. Ambassador also had mobile security drivers who checked out the premises. I learnt later they carried keys and one of them started pilfering. And Ambassador lost the contract and I was made redundant on 30th April 1994. 

We continued to go to Mablethorpe to see Jennifer’s in-laws. We also took Phyllis and the dog. One day I took Tina down on the beach, next thing I knew she was running up to the top, near Margaret. She had found a patch of grass, had a wee and then came back down to me on the beach. On the way to Mablethorpe we always stopped at the same pub for something to eat and they always put a bowl of water out for Tina.

At Barclaycard we always took part in Comic Relief and other charity fund raising events. By December Rentokil, my employers, had lost the security contract. I immediately signed on with Staffline Agency and continued working as a picker/packer at the stationary store. The following year Ofrex Office Supplies took over the stationery for Barclaycard and employed us full time but it still meant working 12 hour shifts. They also provided a car, as I had to ferry the manager about. I also had to go to different suppliers to pick up some stock if we were short. I had to go to Croyden once just to pick up one small parcel. I left at lunch time but due to roadworks on the M25, I didn't get back until half past seven that evening. Another journey I used to make was to Ofrex Head Office in Droitwich, in Worcestershire.

Meanwhile, my eldest daughter, Jane was living with her future husband, Stewart. He was a gamekeeper and worked for a Mr Phillips They lived in a farmhouse that had been converted into three houses. He had 5 dogs, 4 were working dogs as they had a lot of pheasant shoots. One time, he let me have a go on his quad bike and I nearly rolled it over. 

Stewart had a son, Jamie and he came to stay with us in 1994. He arrived in time to see the balloon festival. He also came to Bognor Regis with us.

At the side of Stewart’s house was an old Victorian walled garden where Mr Phillips had an enormous collection of Iris's. Every time he went away, he brought back another species to add to the 200 plus that he already had.
At the back wall, were old greenhouses with vines that were over 100 years old and which still produced grapes. 

 

In October Jane and Stewart decided to get married and Janine, her daughter, was to be her Matron of Honour. Jamie and I were witnesses. We took our neighbour Phyllis with us but the weather was terrible, wet and very windy, but nevertheless it all went off without a hitch.

We were still going out at Christmas for dinner and we decide to go to the Globe at Weedon. The main meal was acceptable but we had chestnut soup, which I did not enjoy one little bit, so that put the dampers on the whole meal and we never went back.

On Mr Phillips land, a mobile phone company wanted to erect a mast in the woodland. He insisted that it was camouflaged and if you did not know it was a mast it looked exactly like one of the trees. Pity they can’t all be like that. 

We went to Newquay again in 1996 and it was so hot that all the grass had turned brown. We went to the seal sanctuary at Gweek. When Margaret got out of the car she said it was as if the bushes were going round in circles. The following morning at breakfast she had to leave the dining room because it was as if the chandeliers were coming down. The hotel arranged for us to see the doctor, who said it was the weather, but when we got home she kept feeling dizzy and our doctor diagnosed Meniere’s Disease.This is an illness that affects the balance in the inner ear and put her on tablets that did help. That was the last time we ever went on holiday as it had frightened her. When Margaret went to see the doctor he called her “Duchess of Duke Street”. He is a very good and caring doctor. If I ever experience any problems, I just have to give him a call.

It was in 1995 or 1996, that Kerry and Heath got married, the exact year, I'm uncertain of.

 

In February 1997 Margaret’s brother suffered a severe stroke that left him paralysed down the left side of his body, affecting his speech and movements. He was a patient in Northampton General Hospital and we used to visit him while he was in there. As it got warmer, we used to wheel him downstairs to the main entrance for a change of scenery. After about eight weeks he was transferred to a rehabilitation centre at Rivermead on the outskirts of Oxford. We often went over to see him at weekends and I used to take him down the pub for a drink. (Photos 32 & 33)

 

Derek and his wife lived in a first floor flat in Cartwright Road and because of his disability they decided to sell the flat and bought a bungalow in North Western Avenue. Derek was allowed home at weekends and as the bungalow was being converted Margaret and I decided he could stay with us as we were in a downstairs flat, which has been designed for disabled people.

In 1998 Derek, his wife, Margaret and I decided to go to Newquay, where we stayed at the Kilbernie Hotel. The staff there were very good to us, putting ramps down so he could get in and out in his wheelchair. We took him out regularly and one day went down to the harbour. The only snag was pushing him back up the hill to town. By the time I got to the top I was absolutely knackered (pardon my French). We often took him and his wife out with us on Saturday evenings, along with Phyllis. 

I had finished at Barclaycard and was working at the job centre in Sheep Street. (Photo 35) My previous wife’s nephews worked there, Mark Holmes and his brother Simon. Mark lived in St James and his home was one of those affected when the 1998 flooding occurred. 

In 1999 the four of us went to Babbacombe, to a hotel that catered for disabled people. It wasn’t too bad but I wasn’t impressed by the meals or the level of service. One evening Margaret came down to the bar and asked me to go upstairs. When I got there she had been ironing and stood the iron up on the carpet. Apparently a bus went past and the iron fell flat on the carpet and had burnt it. I called one of the staff and explained and she said don’t worry about it as the carpet peeled off the iron. It fitted back into the bare patch. Margaret and I went to see the miniature village. It was marvellous with all working models and I used a complete film taking photographs.

Margaret, Phyllis and I had found a lovely pub in Yardley Hastings, The Red Lion. The second time we went there, when we left the landlord came out after us and told me I had forgotten to pay. Phyllis said to him, “I thought it was a freehouse”. That broke the ice and we had a good laugh. Also we came through Brayfield and there was a gentleman waiting for the bus to go to the pub, so we stopped to pick him up. It turned out he was the actor Bryan Pringle, who had appeared in the film The Early Bird with Norman Wisdom and had also appeared in several episodes of Some Mothers Do ‘Ave them. He was a gentleman and always when he got out of the car he opened the door for Phyllis and Margaret. 

                                  

Margaret and I went for Sunday lunch and as I didn’t like carrots I had a double helping of cabbage with extra gravy. It was beautiful. The couple who ran it eventually sold it and it went downhill so we decided to try the Red Lion at Denton. This was quite entertaining as they used to run race nights. We also used to go to the Stretton Arms at Turweston where the barmaid who took the photos of our wedding had taken over the tenancy of the pub. They used to hold a duck race every year in the stream at the bottom of the garden.  
I eventually left the job centre and went to work at Francis House, for Group 4 security. Here, they dealt with Income Support and pensions. Before going there I had to go for a week’s training at the company Head Office in Wapping, by the River Thames. While I was there, I watched the filming of one of the James Bond films which included a river chase. I passed the exam and returned to Northampton to start work at Francis House, where here were 2 of us on duty. There were several nasty experiences here, one involved a girl who couldn’t get an emergency loan and in temper, she kicked the door in. 
This was in 1999 and I stayed there until I retired in 2001.

One day someone came in and told us a pheasant had landed in the bushes outside. We went out and managed to catch it. I put it in a large cardboard box and when we finished our duty roster, I took it to Rhodes Veterinary Surgery, on Queens Park Parade. They rang me the following day and said it was fine. One of the veterinary assistants lived in Chapel Brampton so she took it home with her and released it into the field nearby.

At the start of 2001 I was still working for the DSS at Francis House as security officer. Margaret was concerned at the amount of violent activity at the DSS. Quite often had to call the police to resolve some of the problems we were experiencing. One time we searched the waiting room and found two knives. On 1st March I reached the age of 65 and decided to retire. The day I left I was presented with many gifts from the DSS staff. I, though, was glad to get out.

After about four weeks I became bored so I went along to the job centre to look for a part time job. One that caught my eye, was working in a post room. I went to the agency and found that it was the post room at the DSS! I explained that I had worked there as security and asked the agency to make sure there was no objections to my working there, which they did. I got the job. It involved opening the post and sorting it into baskets for the relevant departments. The hours were 7am – 10am but we were usually finished by 9.30am. The post was delivered by TNT and there were several times when the post was late, so we used to stay until it was finished.

My duties meant that I also covered for the messenger, which meant delivering and collecting mail to and from both the Town Hall and Belmont House in Cliftonville. I used to use my car, for which I received a petrol allowance. In all there were seven of us working in the post room. Eventually a private company took over as part of the outsourcing policy and they took us on as regular staff. This meant we received holiday pay, which, when you consider I was drawing a pension and receiving pay for working, meant that everything in the garden was rosy.

In 2002 Margaret was on medication and I used to go to the Co-op to collect it. In August I went there and found that there was a note on the door advertising for a part time driver. I enquired after it and learnt that they wanted to start a delivery and collection service, i.e. collecting prescriptions and delivering to customers. It was for one hour a day, starting at 2pm. They were moving into the doctor’s surgery in Adelaide Street. I applied for and got the job. I commenced on 2nd October 2002. Melanie Ashton was the manager. the service started off slowly but after two months it went from one hour to two and by 6 months we were up to three hours a day. Being employed by the Co-op, I automatically became a member, receiving all the benefits. 

I found that working at both the DSS post and the Co-op was getting to be too much for me so I decided to resign from the post room and concentrate on the delivery service with the Co-op. I was, by now, delivering out of town, Pitsford, Collingtree, Duston, Moulton and Haringstone. Apart from that, we had contracts with Simon de Senlis and Grange Nursing Homes. Margaret used to come out with me for the ride and as I delivered each prescription she ticked them off the list.

One Friday I had several deliveries to make and as I pulled up at Queensview Surgery to collect prescriptions it started to snow. When I came out of the surgery everything was white, I could hardly see my car. I had a full load on for The Grange and I knew they were urgent so I rang the chemist and said I would go up the Grange and depending on the weather, I may have to leave the rest. I got to the Grange at about quarter past three. We left at three thirty and decided to return to the chemist. It took more than an hour and half to get from Kingsthorpe to the bottom of Kingsthorpe Hollow. I turned into St Andrews Road and from there it took me nearly half an hour to get to the chemist. It was 5.30pm when we left there and it took me three quarters of an hour to get home. That journey would normally have taken ten minutes. Luckily it was the weekend and by Monday the roads were fairly clear.

Margaret had been to the doctors with a blood clot and he had told her to stop smoking. She had had two cigarettes before seeing the doctor and after she came, out she never touched another one. Delivery work had become very busy and I was working nearly full time but I was enjoying every minute and made many friends with the patients. We lost the contract for The Grange but we had started delivering to St Crispin Retirement Village in Duston. I was given a special keypass to access all areas and finished up with about twelve deliveries for there.

I was being paid 40p a mile fuel allowance and was averaging about 200 miles a week. Once a month I also had to go to Bugbrooke Surgery,to pick up a prescription for a lady at St Crispin’s Village, so that to my added mileage.
By 2009 the company had decided to stop using our own cars and use a van. Owing to the insurance restrictions, this meant that I could no longer take Margaret with me so I decided to accept a redundancy offer they made. It was disappointing but I did not like to leave Margaret on her own. So we used to go out for afternoon rides into the countryside. Margaret used to love going to Gayton, where she had spent her childhood.On one occasion,I received a phone call from the chemist, asking me to help them out as the driver, Tony, was on holiday. This I did two weeks and was paid £25 a day.

On 22nd September, when Margaret woke up and said she had problems breathing, I phoned for an ambulance. A paramedic came to her and put her on oxygen before admitting her into hospital. I stayed with her and notified the family. When I went to see her on the 23rd, she seemed fine and the family also visited her. I left at seven in the evening. On Thursday 24th I received a telephone call at 5.15am from the hospital telling me to get down there as she had taken a turn for the worse. When I arrived they would not let me see her and a doctor took me into the office. They had had to resuscitate her eight times. I contacted Margaret’s sister and she came down straight away. The doctor said they dare not do any more resuscitation because of the damage to her heart. We stayed with her until seven in the evening. The neighbours were brilliant, feeding the cats for me.

On 25th I rang the hospital at 8am and was told she had a comfortable night, so I said I would go in to see her when I had done the shopping. At 10.15am, when I got home, I had a phone call from the hospital to tell me she had died. The first thing I did was to ring Margaret’s sister, Dolly and she told me to go straight up to her house. How I managed to drive up there I don’t know, I was in a daze.

When I arrived all of Doll’s family were there and they took me down to the hospital to see her. I had already rang my neighbours and they took care of the cats, making sure they were fed. Doll agreed to come with me on Tuesday to sort everything out, including registering the death, dealing with the banks and arranging for the funeral directors. I rang my daughter Jane to tell her. She was very upset but because of her illness she was unable to get back to town. The funeral took place on 7th October at The Counties Crematorium and her ashes were buried with her mother at Kingsthorpe Cemetery. Her name was added to her mother’s tombstone. Christmas seemed very quiet but my neighbour, Cis, cooked my Christmas dinner for me.

After Christmas I decided to contact my youngest daughter Jennifer. Margaret hadn't been able to get on with her so I hadn’t been in contact for 19 years.  My eldest daughter gave me her telephone number. I rang her and we decided to meet, so I drove over to Newton where she was living. She hadn’t changed one bit. She took me over to Haverhill to see my grandson, his wife and my great grandson Dylan, who was two. I had never seen him. We went into town for a meal and she said she would come over for a weekend and bring Dylan. I managed to obtain a single bed and they came over. We were planning to go to Harlestone Firs so Jenny put Dylan in the car. She shut the door and then realised she had left the keys on the front seat, the car locked automatically after one minute.

We had to call the fire brigade and they had to break the quarter light to get the keys. Dylan was a little frightened but the firemen let him sit in the fire engine so that pleased him. On Sunday we took him into town and went to see the lions in the town centre and then down to Becket's Park. Also that year my grandson Darren, his partner Ursula and great granddaughters called in on their way back home to Llandudno. As I hadn’t seen them for over 20 years, that was brilliant.

My brother-in-law’s grandson was getting married and I received an invitation to the wedding. As I didn’t want to go on my own Jennifer offered to come with me. I cleared it with the bride’s mother and I rang Doll. She wasn’t very happy about it as she thought Jennifer didn’t get on with Margaret. When I tried to explain, she said she didn’t want to know. In the end, I said, “Sod your family”, and I haven’t heard from any of them since. Jennifer also came to my neighbour Phyllis’s 90th birthday party, which was held at the Romany pub. It was packed as all the family came from all parts of the country.

On the anniversary of Margaret’s death Jennifer took me on a three day break to Lymington, in Hampshire. We stayed at a farmhouse belonging to a person who supplies mushrooms to royalty and the houses of parliament. Whilst there we went on the ferry to the Isle of Wight, visiting Alum Bay and The Needles. We also went to the glass blowing factory and then on the steam railway.

On the 23rd October Margaret’s brother Derek passed away. I didn’t go to the funeral as I did not want to see the family but his wife and I have kept in contact with each other.
On Christmas Day Jennifer came to collect me and we went to her friend Sallys' home where we stayed overnight and came back home on Boxing Day.

I had started to having trouble with my hands swelling, early in 2011 I was finally diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and went to the clinic at the hospital. The consultant was brilliant and I was given a steroid injection and put on tablets. Within 3 weeks all my swelling had gone down, the one snag is, I have to have monthly blood tests. Jennifer came over in July and decorated my living room for me. I had applied to have a wet room installed and was told it would be about a year.

In November I decided to buy a laptop and go on the internet. I saw one advertised and decided to buy it. Lee Murray was the person I bought it from and he came down to set it up for me. I have never looked back. He introduced me to Northampton Past and it was only by chatting to Mary Grant and saying I would like to write my life story with the help of Frank, I started, and now I’m on my final part. I have made contact with all my family now.

On my birthday in 2012 my granddaughter Angie came down with her partner Dean and my three great grandchildren. They came for three days, staying at the Travel Lodge. I met them at junction 16 and brought them into town. We had a marvellous three days. Jennifer came over on the Friday, so that put the icing on the cake. We all went to The Spencer Arms at Chapel Brampton.

My next door neighbour Phyllis passed away aged 91. I will really miss her.


On 5th June Angie came down again for a couple of days with Paddy and Oscar.


By July I had decided to stop driving when my car tax ran out, as it was becoming too dear to run the car. With the help of Lee, we sold it on EBay. I don’t really miss it, but I have kept my driving license. The only problem I have is walking, as I need a stick but last week Jennifer came over and took me to Argos and bought me a four wheeled shopping trolley. It has certainly made a difference with walking. My step son comes up weekends, picks up my shopping list and brings it in on Monday. He has been a great help. Before I got my wet room he would come up every Friday to help me in and out of the bath.

Well I think that brings me up to date. I hope you have enjoyed reading it. And to all my friends on Northampton Past...God bless you all.

Update – Great Grandson born 17^th September 2012, weighing 7lb 9oz.

My Diary Saturday 22nd September 2012 by Fran Reeves

I woke up twice during the night the first time by my teenagers coming upstairs to bed and leaving the landing light on – I don’t know if that is just a parent thing or a condition inherited from my own parents creating a strong desire to waste not want not, or it may be because I don’t want the direct debit for the electricity to be increased this year. The second time was because I have a dreadful cold and I woke up coughing (sympathy please) I took a couple of Lemsip Max- the new ones that are really horrible to swallow with a sore throat and then snuggled back under the duvet. I remember when I was young Dad always swore by whisky and hot lemon for a cold, as we got older he would make it for us I hated it and to this day I still can’t abide the smell let alone the taste of whisky sorry Dad x. When I eventually surfaced from my bedroom the sun was shining and Jack dog was ready and waiting for his morning walk, today I made him wait a little longer and had Sugar puffs and a cup of tea before venturing out, he wasn’t very impressed with the change in routine but cheered up when we eventually headed up the road to the woods. I love our walk it can be so peaceful with just the birds singing and squirrels in the trees warning each other that we are about, Jack has a “thing” for squirrels but they always manage to evade him.

When we got home both the boys were downstairs and had made themselves omelettes and left a trail of devastation through the kitchen and a smell of burning oil pervaded the house, fortunately they had opened the windows. They both disappeared quickly when I voiced my opinion of the mess they had made.

I only ventured out once more and that was to Morrisons to get the weekly shop, it’s a 6 mile drive, there is one locally but it doesn’t have the same choices or a petrol station so it’s worth the drive, today the roads were clear and the sun was shining so it was a pleasant journey, although I don’t consider food shopping to be a pleasantry in any shape or form. It’s only September and they are already pushing Christmas. Mum used to shop in the local co-op on Newnham Road and we used to carry the shopping back in two large bags, they were heavy! She used to treat us all to a bar of chocolate every week, when she began her nursing training I was 13 and it became my job to do the shopping when she was working, the first week she wrote a list but after that I was left to my own devices. I admitted to her years later that I always brought an extra bar of chocolate for myself and her reply was that she knew – how did she know I never gave her the receipt, obviously a mum thing.

My eldest son was out when I got home and my youngest went off to spend the night with his dad, so after putting the shopping away I settled down to revise for an exam I have next month. I am studying for a degree with the Open University simply because I can, I should have done it when I was younger but school was boring and I couldn’t wait to leave, if I had done it in the 70’s I am sure I would have found it easier. The revising didn’t go well it conflicted with Grand Designs on catch up TV.

When the eldest son came home we settled down to watch Dr Who together. This was always a family moment in the 60’s and I used to sit on the floor next to my mum’s chair (we didn’t have a settee then just a chair each) so that I would be well placed to hold her leg if I got scared – which did happen on occasions!

The rest of the evening was spent doing very little other than watching TV and catching up with emails and Facebook and I went to bed early with the intention of revising – that didn’t happen either the Readers Digest monthly magazine was far more interesting.

My Diary Saturday 22nd September 2012 by Christine Jones

I really must be mad! The insistent bleeping of the alarm clock woke me at 4.30am, I stretched out to turn it off and then remembered that I had moved it out of reach the night before to make absolutely sure that I woke up. I sat up and reached down to silence the alarm clock, my husband was still sleeping soundly so I gave him a prod and told him that it was 4.30am and if he wanted to catch his train he needed to get moving right now, then I dashed off to beat him to the bathroom. When I got back to the bedroom he plodded off to get ready while I sneaked back under the covers for ten minutes, after all 'normal people' would still be fast asleep. The next thing I knew it was almost 5am and he was back in the bedroom showered and almost ready to go. It is surprising how fast you can get ready when you really have to. 

When I got downstairs he was just packing his lunch into his rucksack, but by the time he got outside I had already started the car and we were all ready to go. The car knows the way to the railway station, we do that journey so often. On weekdays we are up at 5am so that he can catch his train to Birmingham just after 6am, so I look forward to a more leisurely start to the day on Saturdays and Sundays. Unfortunately the lure of the railway gets the better of him and he just can't keep away. Today he is going to the Deltic Gathering at the East Lancashire Railway, he is absolutely passionate about Deltics, especially his favourite Royal Scots Grey. I would have gone with him because I like Deltics too, but I have a terrible cough at the moment, it is exhausting and I haven't been sleeping very well, so I just don't have the stamina to cope with a long day on the railways at the moment.

He waved as he slammed the car door and walked towards the station. I felt a sense of relief, I had fulfilled my promise and got him there on time, now the rest of the day was my own and if I wanted to I could go back to bed. I clicked the radio on, Radio 4 is the soundtrack to my life, I always have the radio on at home or in the car. I only half listened to the discussion about TB in cattle and the pros and cons of culling badgers to limit the spread of bovine TB, as I drove along St Andrews Road and up Grafton Street towards the traffic lights. I was thinking that my ancestors were closely  linked with this part of the town. My great grandfather was orphaned when very young, he grew up in the work house, but when he was sent to be an apprentice to a cordwainer in Leicester Street, he found a trade and a family and he spent the rest of his life in Leicester Street. His daughter my great grandmother grew up in in Leicester Street, had her first home as a married woman in Nelson Street and brought her large family up in Monks Pond Street and then Campbell Street. The area as they knew it is now long gone, but there is still one landmark that they would recognise, the spire of Seps Church still points heavenward and the clock still measures the relentless march of time in hours and minutes. The church which for centuries has witnessed the joys and sorrows of the people, stands strong and defiant amid the 'here today gone tomorrow' buildings of our modern town, reminding us of lasting values that are too easily forgotten amid the demands of modern life.

When I got home I put the kettle on for a much needed cup of tea and while I waited for it to boil I sorted the laundry into piles and put on the first load of the day. I was too awake to go back to bed and sleep, but I felt bruised and exhausted from all the coughing so I took my cup of tea and my laptop up to bed. I may not sleep but at least I could sit quietly with the radio and my laptop to occupy me. I enjoyed a couple of hours catching up with email and facebook and I began to write my diary entry for today. I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was mid morning when I woke up. I enjoyed a long relaxing bath while listening to Radio 4, a shower is fine most of the time, but there is something special about a nice hot bath. 

It is unusual to be at home on my own, but today was very quiet, my son stayed at his friend's house last night, my older daughter had gone to Milton Keynes with her boyfriend  and my younger daughter was shut in her room writing up notes in preparation for her post graduate course at Leicester University which begins on Monday. I like my own company and I never struggle to fill my time. There was a whole list of jobs demanding my attention today, but I only did the laundry and the routine tasks, I decided that the peace and quiet was too precious to waste, the other jobs can wait until I feel better, this cough is so exhausting.

The only problem with doing nothing is that you have too much time to think and this was one of those days that provided a lot to think about. Nine years ago today I sat with my first husband in the Three Shires Hospital as the last hours of his life slipped away; then I went home and told my children that their dad was dead. Life goes on but those memories don't  fade, it is not something that you forget despite the passage of time, the details of that day are imprinted on my mind. I found myself wondering how he would feel about the way our lives have changed. I hope that I have done a good enough job as a parent, it hasn't always been easy. He didn't want me to be on my own if the worst should happen but it must be hard at times for my (second) husband, living with a ghost. Perhaps it helps that they are very different. 

My son came home and my daughter emerged from her room, she had finished her work and was ready to fulfil her promise to paint my nails with crackle nail varnish, silver base with black crackle on top. It looked very nice. I hardly ever wear nail varnish, but it is nice to spoil myself once in a while and it is lovely to share moments like this with my daughter.

Time went on, we ate early because my daughter was going out later. I left my son to feed the cats while drove to the station to pick my husband up and on the way back we popped into Morrisons for a printer cartridge and one or two essentials. I was glad to get home, but I had to go straight out again because my daughter wanted a lift into town. She looked amazing. We picked her friend up on the way and I dropped them both off at The Goose in St Giles Street. By the time I got home again my husband had a cup of tea waiting for me and I chatted to him about his day for a little while, he'd had a lovely time. 

Later on my husband wanted to watch a film, it wasn't really my sort of thing so I decided to head up to bed with my laptop to listen to Radio 4 Extra and catch up with my friends on facebook. The cough was impossible, I couldn't stop coughing and I couldn't get my breath, it was a very frightening feeling, I was exhausted but I knew that I had another sleepless night ahead of me. Thank goodness for the internet and friends who stay up late and are happy to chat at 2am. How different from my childhood when my mum considered it very bad manners to make a telephone call after 9pm. 

My Diary 22nd September 2012 By Frank Baverstock

Pretty much a run of the mill day for me and no surprise with having to get sleep in between working 12 hour shifts nearly stretching to 13 with travel. Oh well, such is life!

5.40am arrived home from my night shift and quickly caught up with the Sky news whilst having a drink. I know I will regret that, needing the loo will all most certainly break my sleep!

6.00am Jumped in to bed to Angie stirring but she quickly drifted in to a deep sleep. I lay there forever trying to sleep envying Angie and all the others who only have to close their eyes to do so.

6.50am still not going off yet so I decided to watch an episode of Ice Road truckers to see how Alex the very large, lovable God fearing trucker gets on with his big headed rival, “The Bear”

7.40am was possibly the time I managed to drift off. Phew!

11.50am something stirred me but I don’t know what! I thought to myself,”oh no, I hope I can sleep again”

When I was a child of 11 or 12 my parents would awake to find me fast asleep down stairs with all the housework done. I have had a lifelong problem with sleeping especially at night and so much so, at times it has caused me illness and stress.

I often imagine that people like myself are viewed in a way that because I work nights, I must be the type to not want to get up in the morning! Funny enough, when I don’t work I am an early riser because I love the morning, especially the dawn. I rise early even if I have had little sleep.

One thing for sure, whatever woke me up did not come from inside the house as Angie & Stacey are very considerate to my problem.

12.00pm was a little worried because of being wide awake at this point but fortunately managed to drop off again.

1.30pm Woke up again but this time for a good reason. As predicted, the drink did its worst! It’s time for the loo!! I was curious at the same time if I was alone in the house. Sure enough, I was so back to bed.

1.50pm I lay there for a while knowing full well I would not get any more sleep so decided to get up.

2.00pm Decided against a shave which is rare for me but hey ho, it’s weekend. Showered and dressed I went down stairs. I made a coffee and turned the TV on for the sky News Whooooopeee I have a result........... I forgot I had recorded the F1 Qualifying and I have lots of time to catch up on it. Well done Hamilton lol and roll on Sunday’s race.

2.45pm Angie came home from shopping and talked over the racing! Hey Ho bless her. Just a thought though, she would kill me when reading this when I admit to not having a clue what she said! Oh dear!

4.00pm had to pop to my neighbour’s house to give them a DVD with some special footage on it, a video scan of their tiny child inside her. Whoops! I was not the cameraman; I was just converting it to a new format so she could share it with her family lol.

4.15pm I was still sleepy and for the life of me I can’t remember what Angie was watching on the TV whilst holding my hand!

4.45 polished my shoes, put on my tie and said our good byes Time for work.

Oh well, I work a lot of hours and as you can see it is pretty mundane but I can smile about it now. I have Sunday night off lol.

A 1960's Childhood in Northampton - Part Two Life with Grandma

My father’s mother lived with us and I now realize that she made life very difficult for my parents, but at the time very little of the tension and frustration was noticeable to me. I had no idea that she had not wanted a grandchild because she was jealous of her place in the family, and by the time I was old enough to notice, she had recovered from her deep disappointment that I was not a boy. In her eyes boys were superior because she had produced a son (my father) who was allegedly born potty trained, walking and talking and with impeccable manners! Despite her initial rejection we grew to love each other and she had a massive influence on my life.

Grandma with my grandfather Mick

Grandma had known real poverty in her childhood. Like many men of his day her father drank and her mother struggled to raise her large family. As an adult she had lived through two world wars, three of her brothers died in the first war and another brother was injured; then like countless other mothers she had to live with the fear of losing her precious son in the second war. By the time I arrived she had been a widow for more than a decade, but the loss of my grandfather Mick had left her with a deep and enduring sadness. Sometimes I would go with her to tend his grave at Kingsthorpe cemetery, she called it “Grandpa’s little garden”. Much more often I would curl up on her bed eating a finger of her special Callard and Bowsers desert nougat while she told me stories about him. Through her memories my Grandfather and Grandma’s whole family became far more than names, they are still as real to me as if I had actually known them.

Food rationing had finally ended in 1954 and when I arrived in the early 1960s I was given the best of everything. My mother bought rose-hip syrup from the chemist, this was diluted with water and I had a glass full every day to make me 'big and strong'. I was given rich and creamy gold top milk because it was good for me - how times have changed! Needless to say my baby photos are deeply embarrassing; I look like the Michelin Man's daughter.

My grandma would often tell me that a little of what you fancy does you good, and as she cooked she would give me a handful of raisins or a little taste of whatever she was cooking. Best of all I liked it when she baked cakes, I stood on a chair next to her and watched fascinated, eager to be allowed to scrape the bowl when she had finished.  Often she told me stories while she cooked, sometimes it was about always being hungry when she was a little girl, or about coping with food rationing during the war. On Thursdays it was half closing day so we could all eat together, my grandma always cooked fish and chips on Thursdays and I stood on my chair watching as she dipped each piece of fish into raw egg and then into homemade breadcrumbs. When we had haddock she showed me the black mark on the skin which she said was put there to remind us of the thumb print of Jesus and the way he blessed the five loves and two fishes so that there was enough food to feed five thousand people.

She had a big blue and white striped jar filled with lumps of cooking salt and she would break off a piece to add to the saucepan when cooking vegetables.   She never weighed anything she gauged the quantities needed by eye or with an old cup and a spoon. She kept a chipped cup for measuring flour, sugar and other dry ingredients and another cup with a broken handle to break eggs into. She would never break an egg straight into the mixing bowl because a bad egg would spoil everything and she hated waste. Nothing was wasted. The meat left over from our Sunday roast was sliced and eaten cold with vegetables and gravy on Monday and any leftover meat was minced and used to make another meal. I loved that old mincer, a big heavy thing that gripped the side of the table, I always wanted to turn the handle but I wasn’t strong enough so grandma would put her hand over mine and we turned it together. Cooking in those days required strength and stamina; grandma could beat the mixture by hand faster and for longer than I have ever managed. She used a little hand whisk with a turn handle to whisk egg whites, a job that I was sometimes trusted with but it took me much longer to achieve the stiff white peaks that she wanted.

Kenwood Mixer

We did have some modern gadgets, grandma loved the Kenwood mixer, but she only used it if she was doing a lot of baking, otherwise she would get the mixing bowl out and do everything by hand. We had an automatic washing machine; it was a Hoover Keymatic; thick plastic squares with notches in the edge pushed into a slot on the front of the machine, the notches represented different wash programs. That machine lasted right through my childhood. We had a drying rack on a pulley. When not in use it was wound all the way up to the kitchen ceiling, but when there were damp garments to be dried it was let down, the garments were  placed over the wooden poles and then it was pulled back up towards the ceiling. In the corner there was a big Colston dish washing machine. It was very noisy and a bit temperamental and grandma seemed to think that it was quicker and easier to do the washing up by hand.

The Bible played a big part in my grandma's life and she would often read stories to me from my big illustrated children's Bible. I liked the Old Testament stories best of all, Daniel in the lion's den, Moses in the bulrushes, David and Goliath and the parting of the Red Sea; my favourite was the story of God speaking to Samuel. Grandma's own Bible was kept by her bed, I was too young to read it but I knew I wasn't going to like it because it was full of rules to stop us having fun. According to Grandma it was wrong to play outside on a Sunday, I could walk in the park but I was not allowed to play on the swings. We couldn't sew or knit on a Sunday because it would make God unhappy and even the thought of playing cards on a Sunday was terribly wicked. 

Unfortunately for my parents Grandma had turned disapproval into a performance art and she could always quote a Bible verse to support her beliefs. When miniskirts became popular Grandma was scandalised and she warned that it was as bad as Sodom and Gomorrah. When my mother wore a mini skirt Grandma announced that she had lived too long and she would be glad when her time came. She disapproved of my mother's make up too, she told me that the body was the temple of God and we should not put that muck on our faces; just to be sure that I got the message she told me that lipstick was made of beetle's blood. Grandma used face powder, but when my mum pointed out that powder was also make up Grandma was indignant, she insisted that it was not to make her look attractive, it was just to take the shine off her nose! Poor mum, it must have been hard to keep her temper at times.

My mum and dad worked all day every day and all morning on Sundays, so Grandma did some of the washing and ironing. She would sigh and mutter as she folded the underwear. Many of my mother’s clothes caused comment from my grandmother, but none more than her pants which according to Grandma were shamefully small and not even fit to be cut up for dusters. They were what we would describe today as a full brief, but in comparison to Grandma’s knee length bloomers they were skimpy. We were not poor, but old and worn out under garments were cut up and used as dusters, floor cloths, polishing cloths etc. Outgrown clothes were passed on and worn out clothes were cut up; buttons were saved in a big tin and any usable material was saved to be used again later. I was still very young when I was taught to sew and I loved to rummage through the ‘bit bag’ to find pretty scraps of material to make oven gloves, needle cases, dolls clothes or such like.

Campbell Street, Northampton 

Grandma sometimes took me to visit her niece Elsie and her sister in law Ada, they had a little china shop on Campbell Street. We would walk up to look through the railings into Seps churchyard at the sheep grazing among the headstones. I loved the sheep; sometimes they would wander up and lick my fingers. My grandma was less impressed with the sheep; she thought it was disrespectful to allow them to wander among the gravestones but I told her that if I was dead I would like to have the sheep there. Grandma would look across towards the church and when I asked what she was looking at she would say that she was just remembering. I didn’t understand at the time that so many of her memories were linked to that area. She grew up in Monks Pond Street but when she was in her teens the family moved to 24 Campbell Street. Her sisters Elsie and Lizzie had their shop in Campbell Street, she had worked with them and when they had died the business had passed to her. There must have been so many memories……………

At that time the redevelopment of the Boroughs was underway, it caused her great sadness to see the area reduced to rubble. In particular she regretted the loss of St Andrew’s Church where she was married. She conceded that many of the buildings needed knocking down but she said that she would have felt much better about it if they had replaced it with something better. She often said that they didn’t know what they were doing by breaking up the communities and she was convinced that they were storing up trouble for the future. Perhaps she was right.

Grandma had lots of little sayings. If I whistled she would inform me that “a whistling woman and a crowing hen is neither good for God nor men”, it didn’t make much difference, I still whistled. She would often tell me to “tell the truth and shame the devil” I wasn’t so sure about shaming the devil, but I soon learnt that it was a lot easier to tell the truth than to be caught in a lie. When she was feeling unappreciated she would say “you’ll miss me when I’m gone” and of course she was right, I missed her very much. She died suddenly following an operation just a couple of days before her 83^rd birthday. She had cancer of the cervix; the cancer was entirely preventable, it would never have happened if she wasn’t such a prude. Unbelievably she had suffered a prolapse as a result of giving birth and rather than discuss such an intimate problem with a doctor she had relied for nearly fifty years on the self-help measures available over the counter in those days!! I think she was ready to die, life had moved on and she hadn’t kept up, but I wasn’t ready to lose her, I was just 12, she was my link to the past and I still had so many questions to ask her.