A skeletal autobiography and some...
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Chapter 5. Beginning of 1963 to Beginning of 1964
Crikey! Mrs Aston, the Reception class and my first teacher, couldn’t quite get me to stop crying for most of the morning. My whole world had fallen into a black abyss the second after I watched my mother turn her face away from the glass half-panel of the closed classroom door and walk away – without me! I must have stopped crying at some point because all of a sudden my mother appeared at the window of the Wendy House where I was sat up the corner alone. That moment was overwhelming and this time the tears were of joy. I had completed my first half-day at St Martin’s Infants and Junior School.
Later in the year and as my confidence grew a little, I would walk to the front of the school with all the other children to be picked up by our parents. In those days you did not have to be supervised by a member of the school staff as it is now. So, one day I walked to the front of the school with the rest of the class. All the other kids disappeared one-by-one until I was left alone – and no mother. I had walked home with Mom a few times so knew the way (not). Off I went – in completely the opposite direction.
After a while of walking, I recall not being able to recognise any of the buildings and there was nothing but a massive field on my right. I looked across the road and saw a house. I crossed the road and knocked on the door. I never got to know those kind people who opened the door and welcomed me in. They had a blazing fire and loads of expensive (big) toy cars and tractors and lorries. They had a son much older than me who was luckily pampered with loads of fabulous toys – I was in heaven.
After a while, the kind people had obviously been to the police station (no phones for ordinary people back then – not even the richer ones), and the policeman took me back home, but not before the kind man gave me a small toy car to take with me. I still have it. My family were waiting outside of our house and I was smiling at my new toy car when my dad gave me a sharp clip around the ear for worrying mom. Though he took it away from me then, I have since retrieved it. The toy car now holds a pleasant memory, that could have gone oh, so horribly wrong. Welcome to the world of school. Here is a tribute to their kindness:
Those Kind People
(A Personal Tribute to a kindness)
Alone in a strange world, I knocked on the door
‘Come in.’ Said the lady and shouted inside
The coals burned brightly, toys littered the floor
I was lost and frightened and very wide eyed
Those kind people at home welcomed me there
I played quite content till a policeman came by
And took me home swiftly with a gift as my fare
A sharp swipe from father and the toy he’d deny
Three elderly women were discussing the problems of growing old. One said, ‘Sometimes I find myself in front of the refrigerator with a jar of mayonnaise and I can’t remember if I am putting it away or making a sandwich.’ Another said.
‘And I can trip on the stairs and not remember whether I was walking up or down.’
‘Oh well, I don’t have those sorts of problems, touch wood,’ the third one said tapping her knuckles on the table, then added, ‘that must be the door – I’ll get it!’
Monday, 29th May 2023. I found a potential replacement car from Facebook Marketplace and began negotiations. It was the same model of my Mercedes but newer. The price was £7850, I offered £7000 and was accepted. The car is stored in Northern Ireland. The seller is in Spain looking after a young family – so I’m told. I agreed to do a read at a newly opened pre-loved book shop in Madeley, Telford the town where I live. The booking was for Friday coming.
Friday, 2nd June 2023. I read Barley’s Biscuit, Pattern’s Rock Quarry at a newly opened book shop to about half a dozen kids and showed a slide show of the illustrations on my computer. Although they, and their parents, loved it – I didn’t sell any copies. Hopefully the people there will spread the word to others.
Saturday, 3rd June 2023. I attended an event at Edgmond Village Hall in Newport, Shropshire about twenty miles from where I live to sell my books. I had no sales.