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War Time Memoirs |
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Written by Helen Glanville
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Wednesday, 12 September 2007 17:51 |
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Remember the War?
Mr Dennis King does. He was evacuated to Woodford Halse during the Second World War and has written an account of his time here.
Mr King would love any other evacuees still in touch with Woodford Halse, or anyone who remembers him to get in touch - contact the editors who will put you in touch! We would also love to hear your comments!
NOTE - These memoirs are long, so as I have to type them into the website, bear with me and I will add to them as soon as I can!
Memoirs of a London Vaccie
By D H KING
Chapter 1
EXODUS
We had heard the word evacuation several times in recent weeks, but we hadnt really understood the meaning of it until one day we were all gathered into Laburnham Street School hall to hear the news from Mr Hawk, the headmaster. We were all going to be taken to the country for the remainder of the war. We were going to be evacuated. To actually live there with our teachers. We were given a list of things to take with us, ie, clothes, toilet articles, etc, and also we were shown a type of haversack to carry on our backs to keep our hands free. On returning home and informing our parents, they replied yes, they did know, but had hoped that it would never happen.
I was 9 years old at that time in 1939, and my brother John was 7. Our older brother Roy, and sister Ivy, were of working age and had to stay at home. My father was a buss driver, and had many adventures driving his bus in London during the air raids. We lived in a modest terraced house in Hackney, which soon had to be abandoned because of bomb damage.
The day was set, and we were all ready to go. All our things were packed, which wasnt a great deal really, as we were only small and couldnt carry much anyway. We had one last practice at crossing the road, not in crocodile fashion, which would have taken ages, but lined up along the pavement and at a given signal, we all crossed as one, thereby causing minimal traffic hold-up.
On the day, we all lined up in the school playground and had labels pinned on us with our name and address and destination. On looking at the destination, I recognised the name Woodford. I knew Woodford! We were often taken there on a Sunday outing to the edge of Epping Forest, where we romped in the woods playing cowboys and Indians, fishing for frogs and newts in the ponds and chasing butterflies. Ah, happy days. The Woodford we were going to was miles away in the middle of nowhere.
All the parents were there to see us off, we had last minute instructions to write as soon as we arrived there, and were given some writing paper, a pencil and sixpence for stamps, which cost 1p for unsealed envelopes. We were then shepherded out of the school, up the street to the main road, which we crossed in the approved fashion to where the buses were waiting. After much hugging, kisses and floods of tears, we boarded the buses to the sound of screaming from a few who would not be parted from their parents. So we set off on the great adventure, wondering how long it would be before we could return home again.
The bus took us through central London to Marylebone railway station for the next stage of the journey. Before we boarded the train, we were all given a bag of goodies, which, if I remember correctly, included an orange, a small piece of cake, a piece of chocolate, and some Jacobs Cream Crackers with a piece of cheese. There must have been a few other things that I have forgotten about.
So we were ushered on to the train and into a compartment and, finally, we were on our way. A very strange train this! It had a corridor along one side of the carriage, and I discovered one could walk the whole length of the train. It even had toilets. The few trains I had been on only had compartments you were confined in.
After a while, needing to go to the toilet, I told Johnny I wouldnt be long and to stay there and look after our things. I decided that whilst I was about it, I would explore the corridor and walked right to the end. I then retraced my steps and went right to the other end. This took a long time, as I didnt realise how long a train could be, and the passing from one carriage to the next was a bit frightening with the creaking and shuddering. Id had enough of this, and made my way back to the compartment. I couldnt remember exactly which compartment we were in, so I looked in each one on the way, and somehow missed it and found myself back down to the other end of the train again.
Panic stations! I was lost. Luckily a guard appeared and I asked him for help in finding my compartment. He looked at the label I was wearing, and told me I was in compartment No. 5 in carriage No. 3. Why didnt I look at that? After that, it was easy. The reason I had missed it was because a joker had pulled down the window blinds and I just walked past. Miss Tubbs, one of our teachers, warned me of the dire consequences if I went AWOL again without permission.
We eventually arrived at Weedon, In Northamptonshire, and after much confusion, and sorting into groups, were herded along to a large arena type of place where they might have trained horses. There was thick peat underfoot, and a strong horsy smell about it. We were told to try and finish any food we may have left over, as we will be getting another one. A big groan went up. Oh no, not another one! The orange was dry, the cake was stale, the cream crackers were very dry, and the cheese smelled very strong, but I am sure we all liked the chocolate and a few sweets. We seemed to hang about there for ages and ages. Eventually another bag was forced on to us. Thankfully it turned out to be of better quality, so averting an impending mutiny.
It was decided to take us for a walk whilst waiting for the coaches to arrive. We had to leave all our belongings together in our particular groups that were spread around the arena, and we toddled off down the road. There were quite a few people about and I remember them staring at us as we passed by, and hearing remarks like, evacuees from London, poor things, and they arent much different from ours, are they? What did they expect us to look like, all Little Lord Fauntleroys? On returning to the arena, we found that horses and riders were trotting around the place, and all our things had been piled together in a heap to one side. Calamity! We had to sort all our things out again into our groups. In the confusion, some of the horses were getting upset and were rearing up and difficult to control, so they had to take them out to allow us to sort out the chaos. By the time we were sorted, the coaches arrived.
There must have been well over a hundred vaccines that got off the train, many more had stayed aboard to go further afield. My group was mostly classmates, and the rest were a class older and we totalled 30 plus 2 teachers, Miss Tubbs and Miss Minnit. We were finally led out to where the coaches were waiting, and boarded a nice bright orange one, the poshest one of five. Apparently only this coach was going to Woodford, the others were going to other villages. So, as we set off on the final stage of the journey, I began to wonder if we would like this village that we were bound for.
We were soon passing through the countryside with very little habitation except the off farm here and there. We spotted rabbits and pheasants in the fields. It all seemed so isolated. I remember thinking that if the Germans came, they would never find us here. During the trip, the driver was quite talkative to our teachers, but I could not understand much of what he said, as he had a funny accent. It was to take a while for our ears to attune to the strange local dialect.
At last, we arrived in Woodford Halse, to give its real name. We came upon it suddenly, from running between high hedges, round a bend, and we were among quaint old cottages, eventually stopping outside a modern looking, and single storey school. We were used to the old three storey type of school, my class being on the third floor. At least we wont be climbing endless flights of stairs several times a day for quite a while.
We piled off the coach, and were led into the school hall. I noticed quite a few people standing about, they must have been expecting us to arrive. We all lined up in the hall in two rows, and we were given yet another bag of rations. I hoped it would be something different from the others, but no, it was roughly the same. We were all a little excited, wondering what was going to happen next, and making rather a noise with our shrill chatter, until people started to enter the hall. The noise died down as they walked slowly down the lines, giving us the once over, finally choosing whom they wanted and leading them away. I remember thinking that all this was very much like the slave markets in roman times, which we had learned about in the history lessons.
Our numbers were gradually dwindling, and there was a lull in prospective stand-in parents. Then a lady entered. A lady I thought must be at least a duchess. I had seen them in pictures. She wore an open fur coat, a three string pearl necklace, and flashy rings on her fingers. I couldnt help staring as she slowly walked along the line towards us, casting her eyes over the children. She was accompanied by Mrs Pope, the billeting officer, and stopped when she reached Johnny and me. After giving us a long look-over, she turned to Mrs Pope and asked are these two boys brothers? Mrs Pope replied I am not sure madam and made to look at our labels. I spoke up and said yes, we are Ma'am and madam said very well, Ill take these two. Mrs Pope told us to pick up our things and follow on. Madam continued down the line and picked out two girls, Ann and Jean. Further along, she picked out the Kelly brothers, Billy and Tommy, and finally, Donald. We were all shepherded out of the school and along to an enormous shiny black car, which I recognised as a Daimler. I thought our journey was virtually over, but there was obviously one more stage. A smartly dressed chauffeur opened the door for us, and I noticed his spats, white gloves and peaked cap as we piled into the car. What luxury. The smell of leather and polish was positively heady. I had never been in a car anything like it before. In fact, I had only ever been in one car before. I believe it may have been a Baby Austin. We were off once again on the final stage of the journey.
Chapter 2
THE BIG HOUSE
As we passed through the village, I noted a number of shops, which might be worth exploring, a lot of thatched roofs, some ugly old terrace buildings and a railway station. Soon, we were out on the country road for about a mile, then we turned off, passing a lodge house and on down the drive, finishing up at the big house. We were at the rear of the big house and staff were waiting for us to arrive. We alighted, and Madam took charge and started organising. The Kelly boys were to go with Mr and Mrs Beck. Donald was to go with Mr and Mrs Reading. Johnny and I, with Ann and Jean, were put in the charge of Mademoiselle, the housekeeper. We had finally arrived at our new home, and what a home! We were to live in the big house. The others were taken to live in the estate workers cottages a short way down the lane.
We didnt go into the big house straightaway, but were taken across the courtyard to a low brick building something like a garden storeroom or shed. Inside were a large table and a number of chairs. Mademoiselle asked us if we would like some tea or coffee, and noticed our bags of food. She suggested that we eat what we could now, as dinner would not be served until later that evening. A maid came in with our tea and some butter for our Jacobs Cream Crackers, some scones and other cakes. This was more like it! Whilst we were tucking in, Mademoiselle asked for our names and ages, and informed us that she was responsible for our welfare and behaviour, and we should also take heed of any instructions from the staff. At this time she told us to call her Zellie, this I guessed was a shortened version of Mademoiselle, and I also guessed that she was French as she had this funny accent. Mademoiselle was a bit of a mouthful anyway.
Zellie left us to it for a while, and people popped their heads in now and then to ask if we were all right, or did we want anything. Johnny started crying that he wanted his mum. That started the girls off, and I suppose I had to follow suit. The cry went up to call Zellie to come and sort us out. She came and told us to stop this nonsense, that she understood how we must have been feeling, because she had been in a similar situation in the First World War in France. Zellie then told us that this is where we will have our meals, and to be strictly to time, otherwise we will go without. As we had, by now, finished our snack, Zellie would show us to our rooms.
We came back across the courtyard and entered the servants wing, passing Tim the boot boys room on the left, which had all kinds of footwear to be cleaned, ranging from small shoes to big thigh length leather boots. There was a toilet on the right, and further along on the right was the dining room, which overlooked the courtyard. On the left was an enormous kitchen. On we went to the end of the passage where it turned right into the main part of the house, but we went straight on, up a flight of stairs to a landing, where the passage went to the main part of the house again. We carried on up another flight of stairs to the top floor, along the passage to the girls room first and then to ours a bit further along.
The rooms were probably three times as big as the one we were used to at home, with two single beds, two clothes cupboards, a table and two chairs. The girls bathroom was next to our room, and our bathroom was along the corridor and round the corner. After we had settled in, or to be more accurate, chucked all our things into the cupboards, Zellie allowed us to go down and play, and explore the chicken field and orchard. We must not wander away, but keep within calling distance. We amused ourselves with the chickens, saw rabbits bolting into the long grass. Discovered the kitchen garden, made friends with Pinky the cat, named so because of its pink eyes, and Penny and Tuppy the two dogs, which, I think, might have been something like Corgis. I think we were all very tired. It had been a very busy time, what with all the travelling, and I was ready to call it a day. We were called in by Beryl, one of the maids, and were told to go up and have a wash, and make ourselves presentable, as Mademoiselle will inspect us. We should come down when we hear the gong.
Upstairs we went to get ourselves suitably presentable. After inspecting each others bathrooms, the girls complained that our bathroom was much bigger and better, altogether more luxurious than theirs was. I wasnt surprised because their bathroom was in the servants wing, and ours was in the main part of the house. We magnanimously allowed them to share our bathroom, but perhaps not tell Zellie. We washed our hands and faces, and the girls wanted to play mother and nearly drowned Johnny and got all his things wet. I think we were making so much noise that we didnt hear the gong, and Myrtle, the kitchen maid, was sent up to fetch us. We got a light ticking off from Zellie, but we passed the inspection, and she didnt notice that Johnny was soaking wet. So we strolled across the courtyard to the outhouse, and one of the maids duly brought us our meal. We were all really very tired, and I only picked at my food. I cant remember what it was.
But whatever it was, I had no complaints. After we were formally excused, we trudged up to our rooms and went to bed, but couldnt sleep. We talked over the exciting events of the day, the strangeness of the place, the funny accents, and we hadnt the foggiest idea where we were, and we were in the pitch dark because of the blackout. We werent used to this strange place and were a wee bit scared, so we put the light on. It wasnt long before Mr Tyler, the butler, came in and told us that despite the blackout curtains, the light can be seen from the outside and we must keep the light off. We could get into serious trouble if we show lights, and we dont want the Germans to find us, do we? We missed our mum and dad, and we had a good cry until Zellie came in with words of comfort, and taught us to say bon nuit. After she left, we continued to whimper for a while till we finally fell asleep. So ended our first interesting, exciting, traumatic, surprising, apprehensive, tiring, sad but very enlightening day as evacuees.
Next morning, Elsie, who came from Northumberland, and her vacuum cleaner, awakened us. She vacuumed the carpets every morning, invariably humming or singing the very popular top tune of the day. A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square by, I believe, Noel Coward. I was to hear that tune nearly every day for the next couple of years or so. She was happy with her work. Up you get boys and girls, get yourselves ready and listen for the gong. Madam wants to see you after breakfast, so be ready and dont go away. Off she went down the corridor, still singing about the Nightingale.
That first breakfast in the outhouse was memorable for the many things we could choose from. About four cereals, plum or raspberry jams, marmalade, peanut butter and lemon curd. There was white and brown bread, toast, ham, fruit juice, etc, etc. We werent used to this at home, we were just given our food without any choice in the matter. Sometime after breakfast, we were given the once over. Tim, the boot boy, gave our shoes a bit of a brush and polish, socks were pulled up, collars turned outwards, shirts tucked in, buttons done up, and hair combed. We were ready to enter the presence.
Elsie, after warning us not to touch anything, led us along the corridors to the main part of the house to a large room, with highly polished, antique looking furniture and a grand piano. Our feet sank up to the ankles in the carpet. Lots of books lined the walls. Everything looked very expensive, like in a museum. Madam was sitting at a desk, and Master John was sitting in an armchair, reading. I noticed a lectern in front of the desk. Strange! The four of us occupied a long settee to one side. Madam explained that she had to fill in some forms, and needed our personal details. She asked me first, for my full name and address, then asked the others for theirs in turn. She then turned to me and asked how old I was. I replied Nine, Maam. So what year were you born Dennis? she asked. I hesitated a moment, thinking that it was quite easy to work it out. It was 1939, I was 9 years old, therefore I was born in 1930, QED. Before I could answer, she had turned to Master John and said When was he born John? Master John got up and walked over and stood behind the lectern with both hands resting on it as though he was going to give an address. Er, um I er um. At that point I piped up and said 1930 Maam. She turned to John again and asked Is that right John? I, er, um, I think so, Mother. Master John, I was to learn, was attending Oxford University. The formalities over, we were informed that she would be writing to our parents to send some more suitable clothing and footwear, especially galoshes. She hoped that she could report that we were all happy and well. We were then summarily dismissed, and Elsie led us back to the servants wing.
We made the acquaintance of Mrs Nelson, the cook. A no nonsense woman, who said that she would find us some jobs to help her in the kitchen. I hoped it wasnt peeling spuds. We were free to wander wherever we wanted, except that we must not go to the front of the house and gardens, or into the kitchen garden, which had a high wooden fence around it. We decided to explore the stables round the back, just along the drive. Mr Smithers, the stable man, was pottering about, and he showed us two horses in their stables, but there were four more in the field further down the drive that would be brought back later on this evening. He told us they were hunters and that Madam often went to local meets. There was also old Bob the carthorse, who always poked his head out for a pat whenever he heard us about.
Near to the stables were some wire mesh pens, in which were kept young quail and partridges. Over the top of these was draped some fine string netting to prevent them from flying out or perhaps to prevent predators from getting in. As we drew closer, we noticed a couple of birds flapping about on the netting. Their feet had got tangled in the mesh and couldnt escape. They were only small birds, something like sparrows, but didnt they kick up a fuss! And couldnt they peck! We had to free them, and it was tricky untangling their feet. They certainly didnt make it easy. We were to be given an old pair of gardening gloves, which prevented all this pecking. The biggest bird we freed was a crow. We acquired an old fish net to trap it first so that we could grab it. With that big beak snapping away, I was thankful for those gloves. We were to free many birds on our way to and from school.
Hinton House was the home of the Pelhams, or to give them their full title, the Right Honourable Captain and Mrs Pelham, with their son Master John, who went to Oxford University, and daughter Miss Janet, who was at finishing school.
We had irregular but occasional contact with madam. John and Janet totally ignored us when home during holidays or weekends. Being in the Army, the Captain was rarely at home. He only spoke to us once, or rather shouted at us. He came upon us unexpectedly down the drive, whilst we were enjoying jumping up and down on a taut wire fence. He obviously didnt know who we were, as he hollered Hey, you boys, stop damaging that fence and get off my property before I lay this stick across your backsides. We ran! Down the drive to the Byfield Road to the Dip, then follow the little stream that runs through the woods, and so got back to the house unobserved. When ever the Captain was about, we kept our heads well down.
Madam once took us to a foxhunt to se Miss Janet ride to hounds. Miss Janet went off in a car with her horse in a trailer, and we followed in the big posh car with Madam driving. It was very exciting for us town kids, in amongst all these fine people, the brilliant red jackets of the riders and what seemed like hundreds of dogs milling around. At a signal, they all trotted off and disappeared into a field. We got back into the car and drove for a while and parked by the roadside with a line of other cards. We got out and hung about for a while. We were standing in the gap between the cars when we heard the sound of a horn in the distance, and the baying of dogs. Suddenly we heard a scuffling in the hedge on the other side of the road, and to our astonishment a fox broke through and bounded across the road towards us. Without hesitation, the fox leaped clear over the bonnet of our car, then through the hedge behind us and disappeared. The dogs eventually came along, finding the scent and sniffing the air, and picking the scent up again on the other side of the car. I like to think that our car played its part in delaying the dogs, enabling the fox to make good its escape from the hunt.
Map here
After a few days, two ladies turned up out of the blue. How they got here, I dont know, but they happened to be the girls mothers. They had their meals with us in the outhouse, and I believe they stayed in one of the estate cottages. They certainly did not stay in the big house. One day, the six of us went for a walk to the village. My most vivid memory of this was the constant moaning over how far it was. Off we went down the drive to the Byfield Road, and turned left to Woodford. We were told that there was a choice of two routes to the village. We could turn right at the shop which would take us through Hinton, round past the Manor House under the station railway bridge, continuing up to the shops and village centre. Or continue past the shop, go under the Railway Bridge, then turn right down a footpath, over the river Cherwell, and up to the village.
The ladies chose the second option, as it sounded a shorter route, and when asked what their digs were like, they pulled a face and said they were in the ugly old railwaymens buildings. Others were in nicer cottages. When we excitedly told them about our Big House and Zellie, and Madam, the butler, the maids, the chickens, the horses, and the big posh car, they just would not believe us. The two mums tried to convince them, but they wouldnt have it. They really thought we were telling whoppers. After seeing the sights, which wasnt very much rally, the mums decided it was time to go back, complaining that their feet hurt.
I suggested that as I remember the route we took to school to the Big House, we could go that way. They said alright and we made our way to the shops. All the usual kinds of shops, we just popped our heads in for a quick look, the last of which was a wooden shed, the barber shop. Opposite the shops was the community hall, where weekly dances were held. Onward we went, under the railway Station Bridge and over the Cherwell, which had flowed under the railway embankment to the other side.
Both the railway and the river Cherwell ran roughly together from north to south, and effectively divided the two villages of Woodford Halse and Hinton. I did hear that the Hinton residents did not use Hinton as part of their address, but used Woodford Halse. I never found out why, I wasnt bothered anyway.
We continued, passing the Manor House, the Gorse Hotel and the Wesleyan Chapel, to where the road ran alongside the railway embankment to the Byfield Road. The mums thought we were nearly back home, they didnt bargain for all this walking, and were a bit put out when they realised we werent half way back yet. I understood the lay of the land now, and could see that if we took this certain path it would take us through the Hinton housing estate and rejoining the Byfield Road at the shop. This was to cut off two sides of a triangle, and a bit of moaning as well. We were to find other short cuts as time went on. We eventually limped back to Hinton House. Well, the ladies did, and they set about nursing their blisters. They didnt feel inclined to go for any more walks.
It was a week or so later that Ann and Jean and their mums disappeared, without a goodbye or even a hint that they were going. We were told that they had gone back to London. Johnny and I had the whole of Hinton House to ourselves.
As we were used to being here now, and had explored most of the immediate vicinity, we through that we would visit our classmates further down the drive. It wasnt far, and we had to open a big five bar gate to enter the field, where the drive turned into a cart track and where the cottages were. We found Donald at the Readings, and he was full of questions about the Big House. We really didnt need to exaggerate. Mrs Reading was a kindly woman and asked us to come and play with him often, because he was very lonely. We had been missing the girls, who were sometimes a bit of a pain, but could be great fun too. On enquiring about the Kelleys in the cottage next door, it appears that Mrs Beck had fallen sick a few days after they had arrived, and couldnt look after them, so they had to go to Mr and Mrs Whatleys cottage, a good bit further on near the farm. Donald had a football and some cricket stumps and a bat and tennis ball, but no bails. We had to break up suitable twigs for bails. We were to make great use of these items. The only trouble was finding an area to play in that was relatively free of cowpats.
We went to find the Kelleys, following the instructions to keep to the track, and go through the next gate, making sure that we shut the gate behind us. Down into a dip, across a little stream and up the other side and we found the Whatleys cottage on the right, just before Gullivers farm. It turned out that the Whatleys had a son, Eric, who was just a bit older that the Kelleys, so they had a friend to play with. We were all to meet up occasionally and ramble in the woods. We were to learn a lot from Eric about wildlife and the country craft.
Chapter 3
FLEUR DE LYS
After the girls left, we were told that in future we would have all our meals in the dining room with the rest of the staff. There was no room at the big table, but we had a small table to one side. Dinner was quite a ritual with Mr Tyler, the butler, presiding. Myrtle, the kitchen maid, had laid the table and brought in the dishes of vegetables and gravy and things. Then Cook brought in the huge joint of beef, and placed it in front of Mr Tyler at the head of the table. He rose and sharpened his knife, then glanced down at Zellie, who was seated next to him, and she pointed at a particular part of the meat and said Some of the red please. She duly received her share of the red meat. It was Cooks turn next. I noticed that she didnt choose her bits, but just took what was given. The maids then handed over their plates in turn, and it was obvious to me that they knew their pecking order. The last to be served was the kitchen maid. Mr Tyler then cut his own share. I suspect that he cut off the choicest bits of the joint for himself. Of course, we werent left out. I always handed my plate over first, because I was the eldest. On the occasions when some of the staff was missing, we took their places at the big table. Zellie was a stickler for manners. I recall her admonishing us once. Elbows off the table, boys! she said, with her elbows firmly planted on the table.
After a few weeks, word came that we were to attend school, and should present ourselves at the village school on Monday morning. It was a bit of a shock as we had been having a great time, now we were going to lose our freedom during the day. Monday came all too soon. Zellie suggested that we allow at least three quarters of an hour to get school without dawdling, and to come straight back after school. Myrtle had prepared a lunch bag for each of us, consisting of some sandwiches, a few biscuits, and some fruit. As we got to the drive, the Kelly boys came along, so we all set off together, giving old Bob a pat in passing. I dont remember Donald joining us.
Arriving at school, we were all pleased to see the familiar faces of our classmates, and excitedly recounted our experiences. Our two teachers arrived and split us into separate classes. I, with Johnny, was in Mrs Tubbs class, the younger ones. Miss Minnit took charge of the older class. We were taken into one of the classrooms and were fitted around desks, sharing chairs with the villagers. The schoolmaster was competing with Mrs Tubbs with different lessons. We had no exercise books, and few of us had pencils. I got the distinct feeling that the school didnt want us there. We spent a lot of the time on nature walks, and I believe this was their favourite subject. They knew all the names of the different wildflowers, leaves and berries, etc, although they did cheat occasionally by comparing the plants with pictures in their book.
At the end of the week, our teachers told us that they had found another school to go to. Great! We just about had enough of this one. I immediately thought that it must be the C of E School. That was the only other one in the village. The following Monday, we all met outside the school, where we broke the news to our new friends that we were going elsewhere. They probably already knew.
We set off up the road, not towards the C of E School, but in the opposite direction, past the bakery with the delicious smell of new bread wafting out. Continuing to the other end of the village, we finished up on the forecourt of a building on the road to Eydon, which turned out to be a quaint olde worlde pub, the very last building in the village, or the first, whichever way one is travelling. We were told to stay there and dont wander, then they disappeared into the pub. I thought to myself Boozing on the job, I wouldnt have believed it. We were looking around trying to spot where the new school was, but there was nothing remotely like one to be seen. Our teachers soon came out with the landlady, who gave us a welcoming smile and said that it would be more suitable for the older class to occupy the attic room over the garages, which was reached by an outside stone stairway without a safety rail. The younger ones will go up to the clubroom over the main living quarters. Our new school was the Fleur de Lys. A pub! What a novelty! Just wait till we tell Mum and Dad.
We entered by a side door. A passage to the right went to the private rooms, and to the left it led to the bars. We went up the stairs in front of us, to quite a large room, our new classroom. Three windows overlooked a field at the rear of the pub, in which were chickens, ducks, a pigsty, a goat, and a small pond right down the bottom. This was to be our playground. There were a variety of chairs scattered about, also a piano, and Mrs Tubbs told us to pick a chair and form a semi-circle. I made sure I grabbed one with a soft seat. I didnt like the look of the folding ones with slats, they looked very uncomfortable to me. There were no desks or tables we had nothing to put on them, anyway. Miss Minnits classroom over the garage was a bit better off, they did have some bits of old furniture and boxes to use as tables.
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