When things got better
By the time my twin and I were aged 4 or 5 we would receive weekly “pocket money” - thru-pence each from Dad. Sometimes we would have to pry it out of him. Off we would trot to Mrs. Higgins’ shop to buy sweets, measured out by two ounces.
Some sweets were forbidden by our parents. No chewing gum. No “sherbet” dabs or “sherbet fountains”. I cannot for the life of me remember what were my favourites.
On one occasion my older sister Jean (maybe aged 11) elected to buy some “Dolly Mixtures” - a sweet generally associated with younger children. Dad reamed her out for this choice, and even then I thought that he was being unfair.
I also remember from this time that we were sent to buy half a pound of “Custard Cream” biscuits, (still the most popular biscuit in England) And Mum sat in our kitchen with the bagged biscuits in her lap, handing us each one at a time.
Then things started to get better. First my two older sisters, then my twin and I began our jobs, and “rent” was required of us. There was more money in the home.
On Thursdays, Dad’s pay day, we might get fish and chips from “Evelyn’s”, on the other side of the railway bridge. Mum preferred Haddock, the rest of us ate Cod - both fried in a crispy batter.
I have a lovely memory of eating these fish and chips (wrapped in newspaper of course, and bathed in malt vinegar ) in our back garden,as we listened to an early radio soap opera - “Meet the Huggets” through the open window of our kitchen.
On Saturdays we would be sent to the sweet store, run by a gentle Scots couple, on Whitehall Road.
We would return with “Murray Mints” (too good to hurry mints), “Bassetts” Liquorice Allsorts, wonderfully chewy “Everton Mints“, Sherbet Lemons, Fry’s “Turkish Delight”, Toffee (from a slab, and broken apart by the shopkeeper with a little hammer) and, if we were “flush” a box of chocolates - “ Cadbury’s Roses”, or “Quality Street” being Mum’s favourite.
Then we’d sit around the fireplace, listening to the radio (until Mum and Dad got a T.V in 1960 - the first crack in our wall of loyalty to the Plymouth Brethren); and Mum would dole out the sweets. Dad would be alone in the kitchen, listening to his beloved classical music on the B.B.C.’s “Third Programme”
And as things got even better, Mum would take my younger siblings for a holiday week at Berrow Sands (Somerset); or Weymouth (Dorset). “Holy” as I was I’d be pissed off and envious, as we older children had never had such holidays.
Even later, Mum and Dad would take “the kids” to Lowestoft (Suffolk) - Mum’s birthplace, for a week in a Guest House.
And by then (1967) I owned my first car, and one year I drove to Lowestoft to drive the tribe home.
Back in 1957, Tory Prime Minister Harold MacMillan said this:
"Let us be frank about it: most of our people have never had it so good". In the speech he celebrated the success of Britain's post-war economy.
He was roundly criticised for what appeared to be a smug comment, but for our family it was beginning to be true, even in 1957.
Some sweets were forbidden by our parents. No chewing gum. No “sherbet” dabs or “sherbet fountains”. I cannot for the life of me remember what were my favourites.
On one occasion my older sister Jean (maybe aged 11) elected to buy some “Dolly Mixtures” - a sweet generally associated with younger children. Dad reamed her out for this choice, and even then I thought that he was being unfair.
I also remember from this time that we were sent to buy half a pound of “Custard Cream” biscuits, (still the most popular biscuit in England) And Mum sat in our kitchen with the bagged biscuits in her lap, handing us each one at a time.
Then things started to get better. First my two older sisters, then my twin and I began our jobs, and “rent” was required of us. There was more money in the home.
On Thursdays, Dad’s pay day, we might get fish and chips from “Evelyn’s”, on the other side of the railway bridge. Mum preferred Haddock, the rest of us ate Cod - both fried in a crispy batter.
I have a lovely memory of eating these fish and chips (wrapped in newspaper of course, and bathed in malt vinegar ) in our back garden,as we listened to an early radio soap opera - “Meet the Huggets” through the open window of our kitchen.
On Saturdays we would be sent to the sweet store, run by a gentle Scots couple, on Whitehall Road.
We would return with “Murray Mints” (too good to hurry mints), “Bassetts” Liquorice Allsorts, wonderfully chewy “Everton Mints“, Sherbet Lemons, Fry’s “Turkish Delight”, Toffee (from a slab, and broken apart by the shopkeeper with a little hammer) and, if we were “flush” a box of chocolates - “ Cadbury’s Roses”, or “Quality Street” being Mum’s favourite.
Then we’d sit around the fireplace, listening to the radio (until Mum and Dad got a T.V in 1960 - the first crack in our wall of loyalty to the Plymouth Brethren); and Mum would dole out the sweets. Dad would be alone in the kitchen, listening to his beloved classical music on the B.B.C.’s “Third Programme”
And as things got even better, Mum would take my younger siblings for a holiday week at Berrow Sands (Somerset); or Weymouth (Dorset). “Holy” as I was I’d be pissed off and envious, as we older children had never had such holidays.
Even later, Mum and Dad would take “the kids” to Lowestoft (Suffolk) - Mum’s birthplace, for a week in a Guest House.
And by then (1967) I owned my first car, and one year I drove to Lowestoft to drive the tribe home.
Back in 1957, Tory Prime Minister Harold MacMillan said this:
"Let us be frank about it: most of our people have never had it so good". In the speech he celebrated the success of Britain's post-war economy.
He was roundly criticised for what appeared to be a smug comment, but for our family it was beginning to be true, even in 1957.
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