Mum and dad did not go in for a lot of hugging and kissing but we knew that we were the most valued part of their lives and this gave us a wonderful sense of security.
My mother was walking home from shopping one day surrounded by children when she met a woman who said, ' Ee! I'm sorry for you missus, all those children to feed and clothe.' To which my mother replied, "Don't waste your time feeling sorry for me; these children are my jewels.'
Of course there were the usual family squabbles and arguments among us. Barbara and I were the two youngest in the family, Barbara being the elder by three years. We shared almost everything, including the smallest bedroom and a three quarter bed which just fitted from one wall to under the window on the opposite side. There was a space the width of the door and in the corner stood a small chest of drawers. Our few items of clothes which needed hanging up went in mum and dad's wardrobe.
We fought a lot. We rarely went to sleep without a fight. Barbara's weapons were words. She tormented me unmercifully and would not stop until she had provoked the desired reaction from me; a fit of blind rage. I am ashamed to say that I resorted to violence and thumped her. She was satisfied then, having successfully manipulated me. She never retaliated in kind, just curled into a ball so all the blows landed on her back. She knew I would not like myself afterwards.
One night we were having a particularly lengthy, noisy fight. Mum had called up several times to tell us to be quiet and finally she came upstairs with a hair brush to give us a whack, [for only the second time in my life!] The brush had wire bristles. Mum meant to use the flat side but somehow the brush came bristle side down on our bare bottoms leaving large ovals of pinholes. We were all shocked, mum not the least of us, however, she simply said, 'There you are! Now will you behave and get off to sleep?'
Barbara and I were instantly united, friends again. 'Look what she's done to us!' We compared puncture marks and tried to count the number of pinholes. Were we mentally and physically scarred for life? Not a bit; the whole episode became a family joke, a - 'do you remember when' - moment.
Another time Barbara and I were in the bath together and the usual baiting was going on. This time however, I happened to be chewing a huge wodge of black bubble gum. I'd been chewing it for a long time and it was good and sticky. Without thinking, I took it out of my mouth and clapped it right in the middle of Barbara's long, thick,, shiny fringe. It was impossible to remove. Mum had to cut the middle of the fringe off, leaving a large gap with short bristly hairs sticking out along the hairline.
It took weeks to grow back and my sister had to take an awful lot of ribbing at school. I got a good telling off but it was worth it. Every time I looked at Barbara I was filled with a most satisfying, [only slightly guilty,] feeling of satisfaction at having got my own back so spectacularly and I was more than a bit sorry when Barbara's fringe regained it's former glory. My sister was more careful around me after that.
In spite of the fights we had fun together too. We loved singing and dancing to music on the wireless We harmonised on all the popular songs of the day and the Nelson Eddy and Jeanette McDonald duets from their films. Barbara was Nelson Eddy as her voice was deeper than mine.
On the nights when we didn't fight we were partners in mischief. We lived on Park Crest, Bobby and Bish Spence lived on Park Row. Our bedroom windows were directly opposite with only a small back yard, a fence and narrow path separating the backs of the houses. Bobby and Bish went to bed at the same time as we did. Instead of getting off to sleep the four of us would be up at our bedroom windows laughing and chatting across the intervening space.
Only the top portion of our window opened so Barbara and I had to stand on the end of our bed in order to carry on a conversation. The boy's bedroom must have been as small as ours as their iron bed frame went across the window, which was quite narrow. The boys knelt at the end of their bed, crammed into the small space;, window wide open, leaning out over the bed frame.
We were having a jolly time one night when suddenly, Mrs Spence loomed up behind the boys, lifted their nightshirts and gave their bottoms a good hard smack. Barbara and I collapsed on the bed in fits of giggles, in between peeking out of the window to see what was going on across the way. Mrs Spence glared over at us as she slammed the window shut and whisked the curtain across. She would have dearly liked to give our bottoms a smack too.
The bond which formed between we two sisters as we were growing up grew deeper and stronger over the years. We still had the occasional fall out but thankfully, I learnt to control myself a little better and did not rise to the bait so easily. I also learnt how to retaliate in kind, with words instead of blows, so teasing me wasn't much fun anymore. Our differences didn't matter, they soon blew over and were far out-weighed by the fun and the good times. Life was never dull with Barbara around. Beautiful, vivacious, highly intelligent and talented in so many ways, she grew to be a woman of generous spirit and a staunch and loving heart.
She married a handsome Canadian airman during the war and made her home there for over seventy years. There have been many visits back and forth. When we could no longer visit, we had frequent, hour-long conversations on the phone, still sharing our lives, A friend of Barbara's once said that we sisters were the two sides of the same coin. She was absolutely right.
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| Eileen, [me]. Barbara. |
All done up for my brother-in-law, Bob's, school reunion dinner dance, during my first visit to Canada. I was forty five years old, Barbara, forty eight. Each of us by then, mother to six children.
The top I am wearing was one I knitted myself from gold lamé yarn!
GROWN UP GOINGS ON.
There were also the odd times when mum and dad had a 'set to'. My mother was almost always calm. She used to tell me,- if you lose your temper, you've lost the argument - a valuable piece of advice which I found impossible to follow at that time. Dad liked an argument and occasionally started one on purpose and needled away at mum until her calm demeanour gave way and she took action. I once saw her throw a bowl of washing up water over dad, saying, 'There now Joe! Are you satisfied? That's what you wanted Isn't it?' Dad had to change his clothes and mum was furious with herself for giving way; on top of which she had to mop up all the water.
Another time, [still at the kitchen sink], she wordlessly threw a soapy scrubbing brush at dad just as he was turning away. The brush left a perfect shape of soapsuds on the satin back of his waistcoat. I can see it still. Mum said that dad enjoyed seeing her lose her calm and goaded her on purpose. I think she was right as I noticed that dad had an air of sheepish satisfaction about him as he took himself off.
Mum and dad never screamed or shouted at each other or at us. Mum didn't need to, all it took from her was a certain look and a stern reprimand. The feeling that we had disappointed her was enough.
There were times when, if things were not quite going my way, I would throw a wobbly, give way to a temper tantrum and as a consequence be sent to bed. In those days being sent to bed was a punishment, there were no computers, TV or mobile phones with which to amuse ourselves in our bedrooms.
Banished from the rest of the family, on my own, my bad temper soon evaporated leaving me full of remorse at my behaviour towards my Mother. Then I sobbed piteously and loudly so that mum would hear me and eventually come upstairs. In between gulping, gasping sobs I'd say, 'Sorry Mum', and then she cuddled me and stroked my hair and spoke softly to me and all was well with my world once more.
Until the next time! when, in a huff, I would leave home and go to my sister Beatrice. She, her husband Bill, their children, Althea, Mavis and Alan, lived ten minutes walk away on Frogmire Road. Beatrice was the second eldest in my family and as I was the youngest there was a big age gap between us. I was close in age to my nieces and nephew and we spent a lot of time together. The house on Frogmire Road was my second home where I was always sure of a loving welcome.
"Have you had your tea? no?, sit down then, we are just going to have ours", Beatrice would say. Afterwards,we children played games and if it got late Beatrice put me to bed with Althea and Mavis where we larked about before going to sleep. For a nightie, I wore one of Bill's white dress shirts with a pleated front. Bill had worked at Blenkhorn's boatyard and dance hall when he and Beatrice first met. He worked with the boats during the day and in the dance hall at night, looking very smart in a dinner suit, white dress shirt and black bow tie.
The job did not pay much and after he and Beatrice were married my dad soon had Bill in the painting and decorating trade with him. The white dress shirts were no longer required and served as spare nighties as needed. It was quite the 'poshest' nightie I had ever worn.
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| Mum's brother Uncle Sam and Dad on the back row. Mum on the front row, hanging on to Alan, Mavis, my Grandma, Beatrice and Althea. |
Taken in the Castle Yard, Knaresborough.
Mum never worried about me going off, she knew where I would be and that I would be back next day, right as rain. The only time she stopped me was when I stormed off one night in my nightgown. One of the boys was sent after me to bring me safely back home.
