"The Grandparents"

My paternal grandmother, Ada Florence Gough was very much the bedrock of the Gough family. Always there in any family crisis, with words of wisdom and a great sense of understanding and fun.
She outlived three of her four children, Harry, Bernard, and Molly.
Granny Gough (nee Ireland) was born in Painswick, Gloucestershire, on February 15th 1890.
Ada began her working life in service to one of the large houses in Painswick as a cook. I can bear witness as to how good a cook she was. Her meals were divine. Her bread and butter puddings, I would have died for. Not forgetting her scrumptious bread puddings, the texture and spices were out of this world. I have never tasted the like of since.
In the summer of 1913, whilst on a visit to the annual fair in Gloucester, Ada met my future Grandfather, Arthur Henry Gough who lived in Parliament Street. The couple married, quietly, at a church in Gloucester.
After their marriage Arthur and Ada Gough took up residence in the small picturesque village of Uley, about two miles south-east of Dursley. Uley, in those days was no bigger than a hamlet, which nestled under the hill and woodlands at the foot of Crawley Hill. From the foot of Crawley Hill one main street ambled gently through Uley, and on to become Uley Road into Dursley. With a couple of farmhouses surrounded by lush green fields and a handful of private houses. Going back up the hill, from Uley, leads to Nympsfield and Selsley Common, before dropping steeply down the valley into Stroud.
From Uley the couple moved too Dursley. At number twelve, Second Avenue, Highfields.
Ada was a tall well built woman, very erect in stature. Her short auburn hair surround a well weathered round face. She wore spectacles with tortoise shell frames, over her blue/green eyes and around her neck she wore a necklace of cream and pink coral. Her smile was always warm and friendly that endeared everyone to her. She was the only woman that I have ever known who could knit, read a knitting pattern, smoke a cigarette, talk to who ever was in the room with her and watch television simultaneously. As well as being a mother and a busy housewife, Gran also had a full time job, until her retirement at the age of seventy, this was at W H Smith (the newsagent) in Long Street, Dursley. The job required her to rise at 4.00 am, to be at the shop by 5.30 am. After unlocking the premises Gran would stand by to take delivery of the morning newspapers, which were brought by a van - belonging to W H Smith - from Gloucester railway station.
The next task for Ada, after untying the bundles of various papers, was to fold and number each paper corresponding to each house number on the delivery rounds. Each pile of numbered papers were then placed in a large canvas bag, with a shoulder strap, for delivery by the numerous boys and girls who had separate delivery rounds in the area. My two brothers and I delivered papers to several areas in Dursley and were paid the princely sum of £1 per week.
Many of Gran's early morning customers were employees of R A Lister & Co. Producers of the world-renowned Diesel Engines and Generators. They would call in to pick up their early morning newspapers and any other items that they required, such as cigarettes, tobacco, matches or any items of confectionery.
Many of Ada's early morning customers were to become firm friends. Some would chat idly to her, about nothing in particular, for others Ada would find time to chat sometimes about their family problems or just about how their families were in general. Although the job was very time consuming, Ada always found time to stop and offer advice to anyone who needed it. Very often, after finishing with the newspapers, instead of going home, Ada would volunteer to help out in the shop, at 9.00 am, if she knew they were short of staff.
Even after retiring from this job she took up an office-cleaning job at Mawdsley's. This small company, situated on the Uley Road, manufactured electrical motors and small generators. At their height they employed around two hundred people. Unfortunately, like so many engineering companies in the nineteen nineties Mawdsley's went into decline. With a work force now of only sixty people they have relocated, and are now situated on a new industrial estate at Quedgeley, near Gloucester.
Ada, as she was known affectionately by the family, was a lively and jovial person. She was very devoted to her Christian beliefs and attended church quite regularly on Sundays.
Gran was very partial to a tipple or two, though she seldom if ever entered a public house. She was rather fond of a drop of malt whiskey, preferring it in her tea or coffee during the day rather than a glass.
Each Christmas she would hold a party at her home in Dursley for her entire family, though not all could attend on the same day.
On the weekend nearest Christmas she would have Uncle Harry and Auntie May and their three children, Howard, Hugh (now a Doctor of Economics at Dublin University) and Hilary. Mum, Dad, Dorothy, Philip and Keith and myself.
Auntie May and Uncle Harry lived in Dursley, they had bought a house in Roseberry Park. They later moved to nearby Coaley, where they bought a larger house in its own grounds. On one side of the house - called 'Hilmar' - there was a medium sized orchard. On the other side was a small paddock. At the bottom of the gravelled drive there was a large galvanised outbuilding, in which Uncle Harry kept battery hens. Next to this was a pigsty. This had been constructed using breezeblocks and bricks with a corrugated roof. The pigs from this sty were allowed to roam in the orchard and paddock. Beyond the hen house and the pigsty was the embankment of the main Gloucester to Bristol railway line.
At the appropriate time of year, Uncle Harry would drive to Dursley to pick up Dad, Uncle Doug and myself so that we could go back to Coaley with him and help with gathering the fruits of the orchard.
He was also a pigeon fancier (winning many prizes and trophies)
On the following Saturday she would entertain Uncle Ken and Auntie Jean and their two daughters Jane and Helen. The others would be Uncle Doug and Auntie Lil with their only daughter Beryl. Auntie Molly and Cousin David lived with Gran so they were able to attend both parties.
Uncle Ted, David's father was killed in action during the Second World War while serving with the RAF over Germany.
I don't have much recollection of Uncle Ted. Although I do remember seeing several old black and white photographs of him in his RAF uniform. Auntie Molly kept one large framed photograph of him on their 'Steinway' upright piano, in the lounge alongside statuettes of two classic composers (Handel and Mozart). This piano was too launch cousin David Collins on his eventual rise to Organist and choirmaster at St James' church, also at St Mark's Church, both in Dursley. Even Uncle Ken practised on the same piano. Uncle Ken played piano in a small band known as the 'West Bennett Sound'. They played at various venues around the county and the country.
As a small boy I always enjoyed the Christmas parties at Gran's house. There was always plenty to eat and games to play. Later the grownups would settle down with their drinks and sandwiches of cold turkey. While we children played with our presents -given to us by Gran and Granddad, and Auntie Molly - either on the floor of the lounge or on the table, depending on what type of present we had received.
Later that evening we would don our hats, coats and scarves and have to leave, to catch the last bus back to Wotton-under-Edge. Uncle Harry was the only one, in the family, who owned car in those days. Despite his offers to take us home Dad always insisted on catching the 'bus. This would infuriate Mum, but he would not budge from his decision. The only reason for his decision, to go home by 'bus, was so that he could call into one of the public houses in Dursley amd have a pint before catching the bus. This was usually 'The Star' in Silver Street.
Looking back on these events of Christmas' long ago I can't ever remember Nan being invited to any of these parties. Although she lived alone at that time I think Mum was the only one who ever invited her to our house for Christmas. This was usually against Dad's wishes, and very often led to rows, between him and Mum, after Nan had gone home. Even though I was still quite young I hated the way Dad treated Nan. Why couldn't he accept her for what she was, a kind, caring, and considerate woman. God must have broken the mould when he created Nan.
Another fond memory that I have of Ada also took place about Christmas time, many years later.
I had managed to obtain, through a colleague at work, a quantity of home-made wine (Elderberry). This wine was about five years old.
At that time Gran still lived opposite us on the Highfields estate in Dursley. So one evening Dad invited her over for a family get together. Eventually someone happened to mention that there was some wine in the house. As the evening went on Gran's curiosity grew and grew as to the name and whereabouts of this wine. She was, in the fullness of time offered a glass. Light-heartedly I poured her a sample in the smallest glass that I could find. The look of consternation on her face was worth a fortune.
"What sort of thing is this to be giving your old Gran, on a cold night like this?" she enquired tentatively.
"We didn't want to make you feel ill Gran, you know what Auntie Molly will say if you go home looking the worse for wear!"
Auntie Molly was a bit of a stick in the mud when it came to the thought of her mother letting her hair down and having some fun. With no disrespect to her memory I sometimes think that she was a founder member of the Temperance Society.
Too her credit she always attended Church twice on Sunday's, to morning worship and again to the evening service. On each occasion she escorted an elderly blind lady from the 'Ferney Hill Home' for the blind.
"Oh well, then I'd better only have the one glass, if you could put it in a bigger glass for me it'll last longer, won't it?" Gran said with a wicked glint in her eye.
Throughout the evening we kept Gran occupied with plenty of sandwiches and some more of what she seemed to be enjoying. Each time that we offered to replenish Ada's glass she would say, "No, I'd better not, I've had enough now." Every time we filled her glass though. She soon forgot how to say No! It was lovely to see her away from Auntie Molly and enjoying herself.
At the end of a thoroughly enjoyable evening Gran decided it was time that she made her way home.
"You can't go yet our Mam, you've only just got here," Dad said, "besides we haven't finished the wine yet, don't worry about our Molly. It's your house remember and you can do as you like" said Dad teasingly, as he knew she was really frightened of upsetting Auntie Molly.
"It's all right Gran, I'll take you over home later" I volunteered rashly. Knowing that Auntie Molly wouldn't say anything if I were with her and in the same state.
Around midnight we had finished the wine. So Ada decided that she'd better get off over home.
After a struggle Dad and I managed to lift her off the settee, no mean feat with a woman her size. Getting her coat on took her two attempts. I then managed to get her around the front of the house. At the bottom of the concrete path leading away from the house were two fairly deep steps down to the front gate.
As we reached the top of these steps the cold night air hit us and the result was that Ada decided that she wanted to entertain the neighbours with a rendition of 'Show me the way to go home'. At that point I had my arm around her waist, trying to support her, but when she started to sing I just started laughing and couldn't stop.
At the top of the steps was a very large fern plant and with Gran's singing and my laughing we both toppled over and straight onto a very startled fern.
"Terry, help your poor old Gran up, please." she pleaded.
"Hang on a minute, while I go and get Auntie Molly to help us." I said teasing her.
"Don't you dare you bugger," she pleaded almost soberly.
After I don't know how long lying there, both still laughing, I managed to struggle to my feet. With several attempts I managed to pull Gran up on to her knees.
"Say one for me, while you're down there Gran." I mocked.
Several more minutes later, with some swaying and a few staggered attempts I succeeded in getting Gran back on her feet, even then she still insisted on singing. The knees of her stockings had holes in them and were caked in mud and pieces of green foliage from the fern. We all teased her for a long time after that. It was quite a while before Auntie Molly forgave her though. She had a face like thunder when she saw the state poor old Ada was in. I too received the sharp end of her tongue.
It was a very sad day for the whole family in 1987 when Ada passed away, suddenly, in an old peoples home -Henlow Court - at the age of ninety-seven. Her funeral service and later cremation was very well attended. The Parish Church of St James', Dursley, was close to capacity.

Granddad, Arthur Henry Gough, was a keen sportsman having played cricket for Dursley, as an opening batsman, he was also a keen football supporter. He passed away in 1952, at the age of sixty-six having suffered for many years with stomach ulcers.
We had only recently moved to Dursley. I was attending Dursley Church of England School when the news came through about Granddads worsening condition. He had been in Gloucester City General Hospital for quite some time. This hospital is now the site for the Gloucestershire Royal Infirmary. Before its move the Royal Hospital was situated in the lower end of Southgate Street, opposite Gloucester Docks. Now the Bank of England building.
At that time we still lived at Kingshill, in Dursley, before our move to Highfields.
One morning Mrs Elsie Price a close friend and neighbour of Gran and Granddad came to the school to ask Mr Gale -headmaster - if he would allow me to go home to Kingshill. To tell Dad, who would be in bed after coming off the nigh shift, about Granddad and to ask him to go to the hospital as soon as possible, as Granddad had been asking for him. Dad sat with him for two days and nights. Granddad never recovered, and passed away a few days later. I didn't witness his funeral. Though I do remember Mum and Dad having an altercation about the rest of his family, who she thought, took him for granted. Her annoyance was the fact that no other member of the family, apart from Gran, had made any attempt to visit the hospital, or even to relieve Dad from his long hours of sitting with Granddad. Gran claimed that it was because none of the others liked hospitals, well Mum was having none of that and made it quite clear to the rest of the family how she felt.
"Why can't you see that the rest of your family are using you?" Mum argued vehemently.
"You heard what Ada said, none of the others can stand hospitals, so it's down to me to go and visit Dad," Dad protested weakly.
"Well that's a bloody poor excuse if ever I heard one," Mum continued defiantly. "None of us, including you like visiting hospitals, but it would be a poor show if you didn't go. The others would just sit on their asses I suppose. God! They make me so mad," Mum continued.
"Will you shut up about it, I won't have you talking about my family like that, now stop it!" Dad pleaded tearfully.
"Christ! Bern your so bloody thick sometimes, I despair for you, you just can't see it can you." Mum ranted.
"My father was on his death bed and all you can think of is picking holes in my family. Now stop it!" Dad protested, slamming his fist hard down on the kitchen table.
"You want to remember that you're working nights and need your sleep during the day, instead of having to rush off to the hospital every morning," said Mum irately.
"If you were to refuse to go Ada would soon find someone else to go instead." Mum said annoyed.
"I'll keep going up as long as I'm needed," Dad replied finally.
"Sod it!" I give up with you, I do really." Said Mum, as she stormed out of the kitchen into the lounge.
After this row and subsequent rows Mum and Dad would go for days before they would speak to each other again. During this time any meals that Dad wanted he would have to prepare for himself.
After Granddad's funeral Mum refused to go back to Gran's house for tea and sandwiches, saying that she didn't want to be with that bunch of hypocrites.
I remember, quite vividly, on our numerous visits to our Grandparents how we used to tease Granddad.
On one side of the fireplace, in their living room, was an old, dark green, leather armchair where Granddad would take a nap after his evening meal. He had very little hair on his head, in fact just three strands, which lay, across the top of his head. While he slept we would go behind him in the chair and play with these strands of hair. If we woke him up he would grab us, pull one of us upon his knee and give us a good cuddle. Then he would turn us over on his lap and pretend to slap our bottoms, for waking him up.
A short while later Granddad bought a television set. It was one of the first televisions to come onto the market. It was in a free-standing cabinet. The set was housed in an oak brown cabinet, with cream edging. The screen was small just twelve inches. Once I had seen it I could not keep away.
In the early evenings they had a western series on for children, called 'Kit Carson Rides'. So every evening after school I would rush home for tea. Then it was on my bicycle and off up to Grans, about a mile and a half away to watch this new novelty. Granddad let me sit on his knee to watch the programme with him.
On Coronation Day June 1953 we all congregated at Grans to watch our first Coronation. After that we joined the rest of Dursley in the celebrations of Coronation Day.
I remember Coronation Day as being a rather overcast day and very cold for early June. Because of the rather inclement weather most of the activities scheduled for outdoors were moved indoors. The Kingshill end of Dursley held most of their activities in the Army Cadet Hall in Kingshill Lane. The late evening Dance and Cabaret was held in the hall of Dursley Grammar School - Rednock Drive. Later to be known as Rednock Comprehensive School.
Uncle Ken played piano in a local band called 'The West Bennett Sound'. On that day I remember seeing them playing on the balcony situated over the entrance of the Regal Cinema. How cold they must have been.

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