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Further Memories of my School Days 1941 – 1951 |
| .After lunch we were escorted
back to school. Very often we would meet my grandmother on her way
back to work from her lunch, break to the nearby factory, where she
worked packing engine spares for the well-known Lister engines. She
would often stop me and offer me some sweets or chocolate. I would
share these as best I could with my school friends. At the time sweets
were ‘rationed’ and so were a real treat. Nan usually bought
her sweets and chocolates from either Mr Evans’ sweet shop in
Long Street or from Mr Hood’s confectionery store on the corner
of Church Street and Old Town. I can still remember the ‘Ration Books’; these were issued by the Government of the day when everything was in short supply after the Second World War. It was to ensure that everyone had a fair share of all the essential commodities, from basic food to clothes, and a few luxuries such as confectionery and furniture. I will always remember how generous our Gran was, or Nan as we all called her, to us children. Every day we were treated to sweets or comics – ‘The Dandy’, The Beano’, ‘The Wizard’ and numerous others. Sometimes we received toys or money to spend on the way to school. It must have cost her a small fortune every week, but she never once complained. In later years she would give me money to satisfy my craving for the cinema and usually a few pennies to get a bag chips on the way home from Wotton picture house, at the end of Market Street adjacent to the ‘Chipping’ car park. I was, along with the rest of the family, absolutely devastated when she died, suddenly, on 19 February 1971 at the age of seventy six. I was closer to my Nan than I ever was to either of my parents. In her lifetime she gave so much, yet asked for very little in return. She gave me love and understanding, something I never remember receiving from either my mother or father. I realised that they loved us all in their way, but they never showed it with any physical contact. I know it may sound harsh, but I don’t think we were ever given love in the same way as many other children were. Rarely, if ever did we receive hugs and kisses from either of them. Perhaps that’s why I used to spend so much time at her house as I got older, doing things for her, in appreciation for her love and understanding. I would mow her lawns, tidy her flower borders, and in the wintertime, split kindling wood for her coal fires - usually enough to last her a week. When I left school at fifteen I would spend most of my weekends with her, after she had been barred from our home in Dursley by my stubborn father, over some minor dispute that they’d had. I always felt happier with Nan than I did at home, mainly because of the constant rows that Mum and Dad had mainly over money or because of Dad’s fondness for a drink or two. I always felt very mixed up when these rows erupted, as I was frightened when Dad came home with a drink in him and scared when mum got upset and started to throw things at him. Unfortunately, during one of her throwing tantrums I inadvertently got in the way of a flying teacup, and ended up with a nasty gash on my forehead that needed three stitches. Dad would take me down to the doctor’s surgery to have my gashed head seen too. The doctor was told that I had fallen over and gashed my head, while out playing. I was also embarrassed because Dad would smell of stale beer, and I felt sure the doctor would know that he had been drinking. Fortunately, it was never mentioned by the doctor. In those early days at the Blue Coat School, we could have a sleep in the afternoon if we wanted too. For this purpose small foldaway canvas beds were provided and situated in a corner of the larger classroom. I don’t think I ever used one of these beds. The small school playground was at the back of the school. On one side of this yard was a private garden that was always well cultivated, on the other side and to the rear of the yard was a field with a footpath running diagonally across it. Every morning at the Bluecoat we gathered for morning assembly, in the large classroom. At this assembly we would be lead in prayers by Miss Jobbins, these were intermingled with the singing of hymns. The school would resound with our rendition of ‘All things Bright and Beautiful’. For some strange reason I always thought the words for this hymn went, ‘All things bright and beautiful All teachers great and small’ Before the rafters had stopped vibrating from this hymn we broke into ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’. The assembly usually ended with the national anthem ‘God Save the King’. When school finished for the day we would collect our hats and coats from the cloakroom and wait for our Mums to collect us and see us safely across the busy Culverhay road. From there we retraced our route back to Cotswold Gardens and home. To be continued ………… Back to Terry's Index |
