Transcript Detail
| Transcript Title | Dewbury, Mrs Vera (O1998.7) |
| Interviewee | Mrs. Vera Dewbury (VD) |
| Interviewer | Jean Riddell (Purkis) (JR) |
| Date | 01/04/1998 |
| Transcriber by | Jean Riddell (Purkis) |
Transcript
HERTFORD ORAL HISTORY GROUP 1998.7
Recording no: O1998.7
Interviewee: Mrs. Vera Dewbury (VD)
Date: 1st April 1998
Venue: Sawbridgeworth
Interviewer: Jean Riddell (Purkis) (JR)
Transcriber: Jean Riddell (Purkis)
Typed by: John Von Hagen
************** unclear recording
[discussion] untranscribed material
italics editor’s notes
JR: This is Wednesday 1st April 1998, JRP speaking. It's not an April Fool, it's after 12 in fact it's nearly 2 o'clock and I'm at the home of Mrs. Vera Dewberry who was Vera Wharfe. She now lives at 128, Windsor Drive on Sele Farm and she's going to be telling us about her early years which she spent in 'The Green'. So, shall we start, were you born in the Green?
VD: I was born down the Green, yes and the house, that we lived in was a pub, but it was converted into two houses. The one we lived in had a, where you tie the horses…?
JR: A post?
VD: Yes, a post. Next door was old Mrs. Taylor, she was an American and she was a 'case'.
JR: What street was this in?
VD: It was all Bircherley Green, it was all called 'The Green'.
JR: It wasn't Green Street?
VD: It might have been Green Street, I can't remember but it was 'The Green'.
JR: If you were to look for that site now, would you go down between Pearce's and Foster's.
VD: Yes, yes, you go down Pearce's and then you walked right down to where the river was, then you branched off and our house stood back where Lloyds Bank is now. That's where our house was. That was a pub and from what I can recommend (recollect) they all used to say it was haunted by the highwaymen that used to come in the pub.
JR: What was the pub called?
VD: Oh, I can't remember.
JR: The pub's name wasn't up still?
VD: No. But you used to come down between where Pearce's is. There was all little cottages, little houses all the way round there. Also where Foster's is that as the pub, The Diamond. Well you used to walk right down there and where the river is there was a lot more little houses. Then where the chapel used to be was another house, a wooden house that my aunts used to live in. The back of there was two more little houses and then where the flats are now was all houses. And all the boys used to come down there swimming where the Barge river is and they all used to go in anybody's house along the front to change their clothes. My brothers, that's how they learned to swim, because they used to throw each other in the river to learn to swim.
JR: Was the river full of rubbish?
VD: No, no; it was always cleaned out. There was always things going up and down because barges used to go up and down there to bring stuff down by the river. It was more barges. There wasn't a lot of lorries. They all used to come down there in the barges.
JR: Right. Now you say you lived in this house where Lloyds Bank is, and you think it might have been haunted.
VD: Well, my brother used to say, my youngest brother, he would never go to bed without my two eldest brothers coming. We used to laugh because he used to say he went upstairs to bed and at half past eleven or twelve o'clock there was a highwayman, one sat on the stairs and one sat on the bed! And we used to say, “There's no such things as ghosts.” 'Cos their bedroom was the garret and he said, “You can't remember living up the garret because you weren't old enough.”
But the girls, they always used to say it was all haunted with highwaymen. It must have been true
because they reckoned they'd seen all these ghosts. Because I was younger I wouldn't remember it!
And we were the only ones down there that had water, because it was a pub. But we had a big yard out the back which was lucky, because my dad used to keep chickens. And I can remember some of the people that lived down there. As you walked down the 'Green', there was Mrs. Healy, then there was Mrs. Dearman, Beerman, Mrs. Saunders, Carlton, the Beermans.
JR: Beerman or Dearman?
VD: Beerman. Then there was my aunt Beat, Mrs. Tarsey. Then there was the Costins. Then there was the Carltons. Then Joe Quince - they lived in one of the houses. They lived all along the front but it was so rough, I must admit, it was the roughest area in Hertford. Nobody would go down there when it was dark because it was so rough.
JR: But when you say 'lived along the front', do you mean along the river front?
VD: The river front, yes, but we lived at the back. There was all houses all the way round then. You know when you walk down where the electric light shop used to be, well that was a big malting there, years ago, but they only used to work in the winter. In the summer time they never worked.
JR: So as you walked down, that was called Green Street, then there was a road which went round, a cross between Green Street and Bircherley Street called City Street.
VD: Yes, you know the Friends' Meeting House, well there was a lot of houses down there. Also where the gas shop yard is, there was houses all up there and do you ever hear talk of Cliff North?
JR: Yes.
VD: Well, he lived in one of them. Well it was his auntie brought him up, but she was my mum's, my grandmother's sister. There next door to them there was Mrs. Tyler, that used to sell wet fish and we used to go round there when we were kids. We used to go to Brewster's and get three pennorth of wet and dried fish and the kids used to fight to get there first, because the first one that got there had the best lot. And then there was Stallabrass's which is now Macdonald's. We used to go there for a shillingsworth of pieces of meat which my mother used to make (into) stews and meat puddings and things like that.
I moved up to Gallow's Hill, we was the first lot to move from there and that was in 1936 or 1937, but although it was a nice modern house my mum never liked it, and my dad. We used to have oil lamps, and when we moved up Gallows Hill, my brothers come in and my dad was only trying to blow the electric light out. When my brothers come in they asked him what he was trying to do, and he said, “This light won't go off.' They said, “No, 'cos you've got to switch it off.” He was so used to having oil lamps to blow out and it was rough.
But it was clean and every morning they used to come out and whiten the steps. If you didn't whiten your doorstep you wasn't, you were dirty. Your stairs (steps) had to be clean. And the fireplaces, we had a kitchen stove and my mum used to get up in the early hours of the morning and she used to 'Brasso' and polish it.
(Pause)
JR: So tell me, you were born in that house. How many brothers and sisters did you have?
VD: I had Fred, no, George was the eldest, Fred, Tommy, my brother, he was a twin, then I had four sisters, there was ten of us. Plus my mum had two or three miscarriages. We were lucky because we used to have, downstairs was a living room and a scullery, then we had two bedrooms and a garret. Now the boys all slept in the garret and girls used to sleep in the other room and my sister and I, the other one that was next to me we always slept in my mum's bedroom: had a bed in my mum's bedroom.
You'd laugh now, because they said they could always remember when I was born I must have
been born in the middle of the night 'cos my eldest sister turned round and said to them, “Mum's just had another squealing little brat born!”
JR: Yes, so there was no privacy then.
VD: No, there was no privacy then, no. My dad used to like his drink. They all did. All the old men used to go down the Diamond. But one thing about it, he always made sure my mum had her money. Them days they used to walk miles for jobs, not like they do now, on the Social Security. If you didn't work, you didn't get nothing.
JR: So his local was the Diamond.
VD: The 'Green' - that was all their local pub and then along where the Ram and that is, the Duncombe, they all used to be little shops. There used to be the milk shop, Abbott's (Ibbott's) and then there used to be the Welcome sweet shop. I must have been only about four or five and my
eldest brother give me a penny to go and get a pennorth of goat's milk.
JR: Oh, where was that sold, then?
VD: That was opposite the Duncombe pub.
JR: Was it Ibbott's?
VD: Yes.
JR: Oh, they sold goat's milk as well?
VD: No, “Piggy's milk,” he said. Didn't sell it, did they. It was a joke!
And I took the jug down and my mum went beserk, when I came home crying 'cos I was the youngest. And my mum said, “Don't you ever do that to her again.” I dropped the boys in it, I come crying and told her, “They'd sent me for piggies' milk and they didn't sell piggies' milk.”
JR: Do you remember a building near that milk shop called The Angel?
VD: Yes, that was a pub.
JR: Do you know anything about it?
VD: Oh, no! In Railway Street there was the Crossed Keys. There was more pubs in Hertford than anywhere, every other place was a pub.
JR: This Angel, one of our group members is doing some work on it and so any information we can get, we'd like. But do you remember who lived there?
VD: No, I don't.
JR: It was quite a big building, wasn't it?
VD: Oh, yes. The Diamond, then there was the Crossed Keys, then the Angel, the Warren House. Then there was Donoghue's the fish shop. Then there was Tovill's the fish shop.
JR: Was there a blacksmith's down there?
VD: Yes, the blacksmith was down there. We used to stand up there and watch them shoe the horses.
JR: Now when I saw you at this slide show, you said you knew Les Sullivan.
VD: Well, his mum used to live near us down. I think they moved down the 'Green' because I used to go to school with him. There's not a lot of difference between him, Joe Quince and me. And my mum, the midwife was Nurse Miles, and my mum used to go round with her. When anybody had babies my mum used to go out and help deliver the babies and then my eldest sisters used to have to look after all the kids. She wasn't a midwife but Nurse Miles always used to come round and say, “Will you come?” She called my mum, Florrie.
JR: So that was also when she was having her own children?
VD: Yes! And my eldest sister said, “When mum had you, she had you then she'd go off with old Nurse Miles and look after other people's babies, and we was left to look after all you kids.”
JR: So what sort of age difference is there between you and your brothers and sisters? Were you quite close together?
VD: Oh, yes. My eldest brother, there was 21 years difference between me and him. He was a professional footballer, and he said, when my mum was expecting me, he played football at Fulham but he had (an injury?) and they transferred him to the County. And he said, “I was ashamed of our mother.”
So I said, “Why?”
He said because the nurses used to say to him, “Ain't you got a mum?”
He said, “Yes, but she's expecting another kid. And I can always remember when she had you.” They used to be huts, where you go in now when you go in hospital in the evenings. Well that was all huts and he was in there and he said. “I can always remember they brought you up and showed you me through the window.” But he said, “I'm not kidding you, I was ashamed of my mother. I was 21 and she was still having babies.”
But in them days…
JR: I know that happened. I can understand that. So what team did he play for?
VD: Fulham - they used to call him Roper.
JR: Roper Wharfe? Oh, right, we'll have to look him up! So he did quite well did he? Were they paid well in those days?
VD: Not a lot. I'll tell you what ruined him: wine, women and song. He liked the women too much, and he liked his drink too much. But even when I was older he always, right up to the time he died, he always went and watched Fulham play. No matter where they was, he was there.
JR: Did he live in Hertford all the time?
VD: No, when he played for Fulham he lodged away.
JR: But when he finished with them?
VD: Oh, yes, he came back to Hertford then.
JR: That's the problem, isn't it? You hear of professional footballers: it's what they do when they finish. What did he do when he finished?
VD: He went to work at the Shredded Wheat.
JR: Oh, right, in Welwyn Garden?
VD: Then he got married and they went to live at Welwyn Garden City.
JR: Yes. No, how long was he playing for Fulham?
VD: Oh, I don't know, I can't remember.
JR: Was he still quite young when he finished?
VD: Yes, oh yes. I don't know if Joe Quince told you about Cowper School. Mr. Stalley was headmaster and he was the one that took my brother under his wing. He got him into Hertford Town and from Hertford Town he got through to Fulham.
JR: He encouraged him.
VD: Yes, yes. My youngest brother, Ern, he used to say what an old so and so he was. My brother said, “He ain't, because if he took to you and he knew you'd got something that (needed) looking after, he'd take you under his wing.”
My mum used to get up the school after him, because he always had him up the school kicking footballs about. He was well-known for heading. He used to head the ball about a lot, that's why they used to call him 'Roper'.
JR: So what was your childhood like?
VD: Well, I was the youngest. I was lucky, if I couldn't get it off of my mum and dad, I could always go to one of the boys and get it off one of the boys. I was absolutely a horrible spoilt little brat! So my childhood days were pretty happy.
JR: But I suppose as you grew up, the house started to empty a bit, did it?
VD: Not 'til we went to Gallows Hill, no. We moved up Gallows Hill and we had three bedrooms, but it was just the same, we slept in Mum's bedroom. 'Cos the older girls in them days was put straight into service when they left school. Flo and Rene and my sister Dorothy, they was put into service. They wasn't allowed to go in a factory like I did. They just used to come home on their days off. My eldest sister, they sent her right up to London. She worked in an isolation hospital.
JR: So they were actually living out were they?
VD: My eldest sister was.
JR: So you still had a full house?
VD: Oh, yes, 'til my elder brother got married and they all gradually got married. When we lived up Gallows Hill, we had one big long table but we were never allowed to sit down for a meal unless we were all round that table and even the boys, I used to get away with it because I was always put to bed after, but everybody had to do something when they washed up and put things away. But we were never allowed to sit down until we was all in.
And my mum used to have a chain and she used to have the key to the pantry. The pantry used to be locked up because there was so many of us. By the time she got to the pantry it was empty. And the only time we had best butter was on a Sunday and that's when the girls had their boyfriends home to tea. The rest of the time we had margarine.
We had a tin bath when we lived down the 'Green' and we all used to take turns of going in the bath! But when we went up Gallows Hill it was a luxury to have a bathroom and a bath. We practically lived in the bathroom!
JR: So you had water in that, um
VD: Yes, but I think we were the only one, because it was a pub and in the kitchen we had a sink and cold water and outside we had a cold water tap, so really, down there, we were the lucky ones.
JR: What about the lavatory?
VD: Oh, the lavatory was outside, time you'd run up there you'd get freezing.
The Conservatives would never dare go down there because it was really rank Labour. I can remember we used to go on all the outings in the summer. It started out with the Labour Club, and we all used to go to the Labour Club but the Conservatives would never dare go down there. It was so rough.
JR: Yes, I've heard this before. Who were your neighbours on
VD: Mrs. Taylor, she was an American, but next door to us there was 'nothing, because you used to have to go up a little yard. And up this yard there was my aunt, my dad's sister, Mrs. Ives, then there was my sister-in-law's mother, Mrs.Rose, and then there was Mrs. Tyler. In the area you was all sort of family, all close together.
JR: Did this yard that they lived down have a name? What was their address?
VD: Oh, I don't know. I can't remember. But they was all like little yards. When I used to work at Addis's and they used to say about Bircherley Green, it was always 'the Green'.
JR: Which way did your house face?
VD: To the river and our back garden faced up to where Lloyds Bank is - that was our yard.
JR: Ah, I see, I was thinking you were facing onto Railway Street.
VD: No, our house faced onto the river.
JR: So you must have been in City Street?
VD: Must have been, yes.
JR: Yes, I should have brought the map with me, I didn't think.
VD: Well, if I'd had the map I could have picked it out on the map. I can always remember our house number was 24.
JR: OK, well I'll probably be able to find it out in a street directory. As Wharfes living in 24, it's probably City Street unless it was Bircherley Street.
VD: There were so many little houses. It was like it is now, a big green, but they all had different, little blocks of houses.
JR: There was quite a bit of cleared land, wasn't there by that time?
VD: You used to walk across there and there used to be the houses near the river. Well then you used to come down by the bakers, Pearce's, that was, little cottages on each side. Then you walked down further, that used to be the Malting. Then there was another big house which the Bunyan's used to live in. That was a big house but it was all wood, all the house was wood, so if there'd have been a fire, mate, we'd have all gone up!
And then along by the river was these other four little cottages. Then you walked across here, there was the Chapel and next door to that was where my aunt Beat used to live. That was a wooden house. The back of that was four more little cottages and then aside a there, where the flats are there was more little houses. Opposite them there was more little houses. Then you used to walk round there and there was a garage (in) which my uncle used to have an old charabanc and we used to go in this charabanc to the seaside. But my mum used to say, 'cos it was my mum's sister, “We're not coming, because we'll all have to get out and push it.” We used to get so far and it used to break down and all the men used to have to get out and push it.
JR: Was this for hire?
VD: Yes!
JR: What was the name of your uncle?
VD: My uncle? Er, Tarsey.
JR: He was Tarsey, and he used to have a charabanc.
VD: And he used to work, there used to be a theatre, the Premier, where the bookies is now. And he always used to save all the back seats for the family and you went in there and there was hardly anyone in there, just the family.
He worked there for years, then he had this old charabanc and he used to take us out on Sundays!
JR: So how far did it go, this bus?
VD: Oh, not far. We used to get about. We used to go to Southend. So I would say we'd get about half way, or we might have got to Southend! But, on the way back, the men used to have to get out and push it.
JR: So what did you do for entertainment besides the theatre.
VD: Not a lot.
JR: You said you had all these games
VD: Oh, yes, when we were kids, we used to have hoops, tops, skipping ropes. Now my little great-granddaughter came over here the other week and I took her over the shops. She said, “Oh, here's a skipping rope.”
I said, “Haven't you got one?”
She said, “No!”
I said, “Can you skip?”
“Yes,, I can skip. We've got them at school, but I haven't got one!”
I said, “Do you want it?”
So I bought it and we come in here and she was most surprised that I could skip like she could.
I said, “I used to skip years ago when I was a little girl”
JR: So, what about shopping generally? Did you mum have much housekeeping money for
VD: In my mum's day with the boys working, the girls, even those in service, they still used to send so much money home. So I don't think we was what you call 'too bad off.' We was never hungry. My dad's people, they had a big clothes shop up London at Tooting and they used to come down and they used to rig all us up, so my mum never used to have to buy. Mind you, I was the youngest so I used to have the 'hand me downs' but my other sisters, they were well-clothed, because they used to bring all the clothes down.
JR: Oh, so they helped you.
VD: Yes, and when they used to come down they'd give my mum money but they'd never give it to my dad because they'd say he'd take it down the Diamond. They'd say, “Now put that in your purse Florrie and don't give it to him!”
JR: Did you know anyone who lived over where Les Sullivan used to live? In Haydens Court
VD: Whereabouts was Haydens Court, then?
JR: The other side of the Friends Meeting House - the South Street side.
VD: That's where Cliff North used to live. I think they lived one side and Cliff North lived the other side.
JR: Cliff North sometimes is referred to as Cliff Mead, isn't he? What's the
VD: Yes, they adopted him or something, his, what he called his mum, but she was his aunt, was my grandmother's sister. And from what I can remember when they used to talk about it, he was adopted by he was something to do with the family, and she brought him up. So his name was Cliff Mead but he always went in the name of Cliff North.
JR: And that was his adopted name?
VD: Well, I don't know if she legally adopted him, but she always brought him up because he married my cousin. He married a Trenchie Ives, my dad's sister's daughter. So they all sort of married each other, you know, all family connected.
JR: So, can you name a few other people you were related to that we haven't talked about already?
VD: There was Mrs. Ives, my dad's sister; Mrs.Tarsey, my mum's sister; Mrs. Answell, she moved up Sele Farm; my mum's sister, Mrs. Healy. She was something to do on my mum's side.
My brother, he married Doll Saunders which lived across the road. Although she was a sister-in-law. I was always brought up to call her Aunt Doll because she named me and she was my godmother. Then my brother married Aggie Rose. She lived round the corner and my mum could never stand her. My mum would never call her Ag, she always used to refer to her as old Aggie Rose. She couldn't stand her. And my brother used to say, “She's your daughter-in-law.”
And she used to say, “She's no daughter-in-law of mine.”
JR: Why was that?
VD: I don't know! I suppose going back some time before I was born. When she used to come up the road she used to say, “Here comes Fred and old Aggie Rose.”
And when they had their first grandchild, my eldest sister had Brian on the 9th of February, Jimmy was born on the 7th of February but there was always jealousy that my mum used to make more fuss of my sister's son than what they did of Aggie Rose's. The only one that was jealous of them was me! I was absolutely jealous. I used to hate the grand-children coming up, I used to think I was being pushed out in the cold, although I wasn't, but I suppose being the youngest, being spoilt
by all the family and then they used to come up and they used to be all over them. I used to hate them kids coming up.
JR: What age were you when you first noticed all the attention going to them?
VD: Well, I must have been about five or six.
JR: Yes, yes.
VD: And we lived up Gallows Hill then and near where we lived was a big wood. My mum and dad used to say, “Vera'll take you up the fields to play.”
I used to say, “I don't want them. I couldn't stand ….“ And my niece, there's only about six or seven years difference between me and her and I could not stand her. I used to push her, clout her, for no reason I used to clout her. And I used to say, “Go on back home,” because she was another girl. She was the first grand-daughter and my mum and dad did dote on her, There was no getting round it. I used to say to my mum, “You love her more than you do us.” But she didn't, I suppose I was that bit jealous.
JR: Who was she the daughter of?
VD: My eldest sister, Flo.
JR: Oh, so a bit of family feuding there.
VD: Yes, yes. There was with me! My sister, she lived opposite us, she'd lived at Bengeo and my mum said, “I don't know why you live ….” So she got a transfer to Gallows Hill, 'cos them days you could just go to the Council and say, “I want to go,” and they'd move you. You didn't have to
fill in forms then. You could go from one house to another. As soon as there was a house empty, you only went up and said I want to move and you moved.
They were living here. They're always over here, the kids, my sister's children. Do you know the Morrises? Along Hertingfordbury Road?
JR: No, I don't think so – where?
VD: They live at Hertingfordbury Road. My nephew lives at 114, Hertingfordbury Road. That was one of my nephews.
JR: So he's beyond the bridge, isn't he?
VD: You know where the new houses are? Just before you get to them, that was his mum's house. Then they all sort of changed over. That was one of my sister's children. Some time ago - I'm going back years ago - there was a notice in the News of the World - they was trying to find Wharfe. And my dad's relations came down from London. There was a lot of money involved. It was all property in Jersey and Guernsey. But the only one who could have claimed that money was my dad, because it was his sister and she had this boy illegally and they put him in a Dr. Bernardo's home. But my mum used to have him home holiday times. But when he went in the Navy, they reckon he done a lot of black-marketing and he made all this money and when he died he didn't leave a will so they tried to trace the family.
The family from London went up the library or the Castle (probably the then CRO) and tried to trace us. And the first Wharfes that was born in Hertford was in the 1300's. They traced it back and they reckoned that we were one of the oldest families in Hertford. But when they came to Hertford I was the only one they found. When they knocked at my door, they said who they was. I said, “I thought you were dead. I thought you got killed in the war.” But they wasn't.
JR: Was that a relative then?
VD: The people that had the business that I tell you about when they used to bring us clothes down.
JR: Oh, yes.
VD: These were their sons and daughters and when they see this in the News of the World, they came down and thought that they could get this money, to be divided. But the Treasury took everything because my dad had died, and he hadn't left no will, and my dad was the only person who could have took that money, so it all went to the Treasury. But they traced it back, it was in this book and the first Wharfe, it was the Romans 'cos my son says to me, “You're a bit of an old Ittie.”
JR: So the people that used to bring you clothes from London were not your father's parents?
VD: He was my dad's father's brother. There were two brothers.
JR: So your grandfather was from this town?
VD: Yes, but they moved to London and he got this big drapery department. They always kept in touch. And when we lived up Gallows Hill, when they came we used to say, “Aunt George and Uncle Liz is coming.” They always used to give us plenty of money to go down the fair! But the kids, we was never allowed in the house. My mum used to say, "Wait outside!” And they always used to have their meals before we did. We used to have the left-overs because they're here. To us, they were well off. We was the poor relations. But there was no snobbishness about them.
JR: What part of London was it?
VD: Tooting. Used to send down the measurements and they used to bring all the clothes. I used to have all the left-overs. I always remember when they came. She said, “What happened to the others?” I said, “They're all dead. There is only three of us alive.” That was Flo, me and my brother Fred - four of us.
She said, “I can't place you.”
I said, “I was the youngest.”
“Oh,” she said, “You was the one that had too much cheek about you, didn't you?”
My husband said, “Now the truth has come out!”
When I used to say to him about my dad's relations, they're well off, got plenty of money, and he was there at the time, he said, “She used to tell us she'd got rich people, relations, and we used to laugh at her.”
But in them days, if you had a baby before you was married, it was a disgrace and when he was born, they put him in Dr. Barnardo's. But my mum always used to have him holiday times and it appeared he tried to come to Hertford before he tried to try and find her, but he couldn't find her.
So we all lost out on it. But I say, “What you've never had, you never miss.”
JR: You might have told us this already but I've forgotten - what was your mother's maiden name?
VD: Florence Slight.
JR: There are some Slights living in Sele Road, aren't there?
VD: Yes, that was my mum's sister. The Slight you're talking about was George, my mum's nephew. His mum was my mum's sister.
JR: So her sister-in-law?
JR: Oh, yes.
End of Side A
SIDE B
VD: One of her children got drowned over Ware (Dolly).
JR: Who did she marry?
VD: I don't know. He was in the Air Force. I don't know how she met him
(Pause)
JR: So, now, let's go on with your childhood. Where did you go to school?
VD: I went to Infants' School.
JR: At? All Saints?
VD: Yes, All Saints. From there I went to Abel Smith's Junior and Mixed School and then from there I went to Longmores Senior Mixed School. It was all according to what part of the area you lived in. If you went up that end you went to Longmores but if you lived up that end, the boys had
to go to the Cowper School and the girls had to go to Longmore School. And we wouldn't dare talk to our teachers like they talk to them these days. We were scared stiff of them.
Then I left school and I went to Addis's. My dad turned round and told me I'd got to go in service like the rest of the girls. He said, “I've got you a lovely little job up Queens Road, 3/6d a week, living in.”
I said, “I'm not.”
He said, “I've already got you a job.”
I said, “I'm not going.” Because I was the only one that dared cheek him, because my mum died while I was at school and my sister brought me up.
I said, “I'm determined I'm not going.” And I went in Addis's and I came home, and I said, “I've got a job, Addis's, 7/6d a week.”
He said, “You're not going.”
I said, “You wait.” Easter Monday. I said, “You wait 'til Tuesday. You think I'm going up Queens Road scrubbing floors for 3/6d a week, you've got another think coming.” And I didn't go. I ended up at Addis's.
They said to me, “You will have to go.”
I said, “I ain't. I'm not going in service.”
He said, “You're going to get your uniform.”
I said, “I'm still not going there.”
Yet all the others had to go, except my sister, the one next to me. She won a scholarship and he did let her go to Addis's 'cos she was working in the office. He came home that night and I said, “By the way I've got a job.”
He said, “Yes, I know, up Queens Road.”
I said, “No, I'm going to Addis's.”
JR: So you got your way?
VD: Yes, I got my way. I used to get my own way in everything.
JR: But that was a lot more money, it was twice as much.
VD: Yes, I was going to get 3/6d a week up Queens Road. “Oh!” he said, “You're getting one half-day off a week.” I said, “Big deal.” But at Addis's I know we used to start at half past seven in the morning 'til half past five, and then we used to go in half past seven Saturdays 'til half past eleven, which was 7/6d a week.
JR: So you had one, days off.
VD: Yes, If I went in service I only had Saturday afternoon off. Addis's them days was one of the best paid places going: up to the time it closed it was still the best paid place. There was Simsons, Shand and Simson Pimms. What is there round here now, hardly anything.
JR: Well, industry's moved out, hasn't it?
VD: Well, that's why Addis's moved out, wasn't it, because they put the rates up too high.
(Pause)
JR: Right, so who were you friends when you were a child?
VD: Frances Wilson, Olive Carlton, the one that lives up Hertingfordbury; Chelmsford Road, my cousin, Rene Ives. There was so many of us, you all sort of worked together. We all used to go and sit round the castle, in the castle grounds, because opposite the castle that used to be tennis courts. We used to go in there and we used to go fielding for the people that played tennis, picking their balls up for 1d a time.
All the Jacques they was all my friends, they all lived up Gallows Hill; the Games. I mean they was all big families. But we was the first family to move up Gallows Hill and we lived right on the corner. 19 Page Road, we lived.
JR: So the people playing the tennis in the Castle ground?
VD: You know, the main entrance, where you pay the rent and the water rate, well opposite there, they was all big tennis courts and then on the other side was bowling. We were happy, we used to go to Thistledo's and get pennorth of stale cakes, Sunday tea - used to get a bagful for a penny.
JR: Lots of people got the fruit from the market that was slightly off.
VD: Yes, yes. I can always remember Christmas Eve. You never brought your fruit and your chocolates and your sweets and all that until Christmas Eve when they was auctioning them off. We always used to have chicken, because my dad used to keep chickens. Big market and they used to keep open until midnight.
And another thing we used to do when we were kids, my mum was a chapel woman,. but Christmas Eve, the youngest ones was always put to bed early, and Christmas Eve my mum used to get us all up, we were well wrapped up warm, and we all used to have to go down All Saints Church to the Midnight Mass. And do you know, I kept that up for years, even up 'til I moved up here. The last time I went, we went in St. Andrew's Church and it was bitter cold and I was ill, they had to have a doctor to me Christmas Day.
JR: When was that?
VD: About 10 years ago.
JR: I'm surprised that it was cold.
VD: It was really cold. As I say we used to go to All Saints Church, but that was one thing that my mum and dad, even the boys. My mum used to say, “Come up here and we'll all go to midnight mass.” Because my mum was a bit on the religious side. My dad wasn't. My mum said, “He loves his drink, but he always made sure I had my money.”
JR: And she used to go to the chapel, did she?
VD: Yes, all the people down the Green, they all used to go to the chapel, the women, not so much the men, but nearly all the women used to go to chapel and the kids always used to have to go to Sunday School.
JR: Which Sunday School did you go to - All Saints?
VD: No, not All Saints. I used to go to the Ebenezer.
JR: What was it like there?
VD: It was the finest Sunday School you could go to. Because my cousin lived in the house next door, she used to clean it out, Akers. At Christmas time we always used to have something to wear and a toy, from them. And we used to have a coach trip, Dyes the coach people. I think she's still alive, lives right opposite Ilotts, the girl Dye. I don't know if he had anything to do with the Ebenezer but he always used to make it cheap for the parents to go with you. It was always the same, Walton-on-the-Naze.
JR: I know a lot of children went, but were there many people going to the Ebenezer?
VD: I don't know. My mum never went because my mum was ill. But it was a big Sunday School
and after, if you went a year, I had a Bible from there. I think I got it, 1928 or 1929, for good attendance at Sunday School.
JR: So you had quite a good social life. I've been reading about that chapel and it seemed to get fewer and fewer people going there.
VD: I tell you who used to run it, Tommy Hurd's father-in-law. He used to be the one that done all the services.
JR: And the Sunday School was at the back?
VD: Yes.
JR: I always ask this question and anyone who listens to the tapes will say, “There she goes again,” but I will say it, can you remember anything about the local characters of the town. I had a tape from Dolly Dudley, who was Dolly Morris. I don't know whether you know her but she lived in the Angel as a child? She would be about your age, I think.
VD: I knew the Morrises who used to live up Cowbridge. Wouldn't be any relation to them, would they?
JR: Er…
VD: She don't walk about, wheels a pram, her name's Morris.
JR: Not her, but that's a sister or relative I think, yes, that family.
VD: They come out the Angel and I'm almost sure they moved up Port Vale, Port Hill.
JR: Yes, I think, certainly when she was first married she lived up near Hartham gates.
VD: Yes and her sister still walks about. She's always got this pram with the shopping in it.
Then her other sister, Doris Morris, she lives at Bengeo. Now I went to school with her.
JR: That's the one I'm talking about.
VD: Doris? Well she's my age.
JR: She called herself Dolly, that's why I…
VD: Yes, her name's Doris. We always called her Doris Morris. I moved up Bengeo but I didn't like it. That's when I moved back here, and she came.
I thought I heard someone at the window - 'Come on, Vera, open this door!' And I said, “Who is it?”
And she said. “Doris!”
And I went down and she came here and we was talking about old times when we all used to go to school together. That one with the pram is her eldest sister.
JR: Yes. What's her first name?
VD: Doris. Oh, the other one! I think her name's Ivy.
JR: Did she marry, Ivy marry, or is she still a Morris?
VD: She did get married. That a. ..a big family. My mum's sister, my aunt Beat, the one that lived next, she only had I, and my Aunt Beat was disgusted to think that mum and them was having kids like they was. She used to say to my mum, “You're having babies like rabbits.”
But they'd got no television in them days!
JR: No, they didn't have really any education and how they could use contraception.
VD: No. My mum could hardly read and write. My dad could, but my mum used to say as soon as she left school they was put into service. She could just about get by with reading, she could just about write her name, but she never had what you call a good education.
JR: Where did your father go to school?
VD: Green Coat School.
JR: Oh, did he? That was a reasonably good education.
VD: They used to pay 1d a week to go. He ran away from home when he was 14 because he had an old stepmother and she was an old 'so and so' to him. And he joined the army when the Boer War was on and he was only 14. When they found him he was in South Africa. He was a drummer boy. His name is outside the library. They said when he came home from the Boer War, 'cos they used to live down the Green, and he seen my mum, he said, “I'm going to marry you, Florence.”
She said, “Not if I've got anything to do with it.” But she did marry him. He used to say, “You don't realise but your mum was a nice bit of stuff when she was young.”
JR: Yes, well, I suppose she was.
VD: He said, “I lived on bread and jam.” He was only 14. I'll tell you where it was, you know where the new fire station is, well that was the military, well that's where he joined up. He told them he was 16. He was only 14.
We said to him, “Did you ever regret?”
He said, “No, I had a good life. I was looked after more than what I was with my own stepmother.” His stepmother, he would never let us call her 'gran'. He used to say, “Call her Liz, she's not your ...” Never classed her as his mother.
JR: Where did she live?
VD: Down the Green. They all lived down the Green.
JR: So she was quite near you.
VD: Well, I don't know because that was before my time. But I can remember (her) when we lived up Gallows Hill.
JR: She was still alive then?
VD: Oh, yes, yes.
JR: Oh, what a chequered life!
VD: 'Cos when I see Kath she said, “That lady's coming - Jean – up.”
I said, “Yes, I might make a mess up.”
She said, “No, you know.” 'Cos when. I sat talking to her, because she lived at Hoddesdon, didn't she?
JR: Yes, yes. Well, the more recordings you make the more familiar you get with people and you find that somebody either knows somebody or they're related to somebody and you get into the groove of it and it's almost as though you've been there yourself.
VD: When Kath Slight (was at Addis's) and someone came into me and said, “You aren't half like Kath Slight.”
I said, “Am I?”
She came down to me and she said, “People keep telling me we're like sisters.”
I said, “Who's your dad?”
She said, “George Slight.”
“Well,” I said, “That's my cousin.” I said, “Your nan and my mum were two sisters!”
JR: It was amazing that you didn't know!
VD: Then I left off early and I was walking along Ware Road and when I went next morning, they said to me “What was you ...” Always used to call me 'Kath'.
I used to say, “I'm not Kath, I'm Vera'.”
And they used to say, “Hello, Vera.”
And she'd say, “'I'm not Vera, I'm Kath.”
Yet we was only second cousins.
JR: It is true though, you do look like her.
VD: My mum used to say to me, “You're the spitting image of my sister Em'.” She lived up Sele Road. You know if you turn round and go the first block of houses on the left-hand side. Well she lived in that house. She was ever so house proud. When we used to go up there, she used to say to my mum, “Kath can come in, Doris can come in but you've got to stay outside.”
So I used to have to sit on the doorstep. She used to reckon I made too many crumbs on the floor. She wasn't nasty but I suppose I was a bit young. I did used to make crumbs. I was allowed in but I wasn't allowed in when I was eating anything.
So Cliff North, he was related and all the Tarseys, all related.
JR: Cliff was telling us that he used to notice that there were a lot of fights or problems in the pubs in Railway Street.
VD: Oh, yes, especially the Diamond, and the Duncombe, that was another rough pub.
JR: Do you remember anything of those fights?
VD: No only when the war was on. When the Yanks were here. And the Ram in Fore Street, that was another one, that used to be a rough old area. It had a very bad name. The Three Tuns, that was another one, that used to be classed as a rough old pub. They was always fighting there, but then as it got older it was upgraded and it got a good name but in the olden days there was always fights.
(Telephone)
JR: Sorry, we missed that. Bubbles Sullivan's mother…?
VD: Used to be the same as my mother. She used to go round with the mid-wife helping to deliver babies. When my mum died we all lived together and if we had any troubles we always used to go to his mum. We used to call his mum 'Nan'.
When I got married and I was going to have my eldest son, I was terrified and she was going to come with me when I had my eldest son, 'cos I was going to have him at home. But they rushed me into hospital and I was sitting there crying and she said to me, “Now you listen to me, Vera.”
I said, “I shall die, Nan.”
And she said, “You won't die. You won't die.”
She said, “You think of me when you're in labour.” She said, “Think of me pushing my pram with a set of twins in the bottom, a set of twins in the top and a set of twins holding me hand!”
And do you know what I always remember that. And when she came to see me over at Bishop's Stortford, she said, “Well, you ain't dead then.”
I said, “No, I thought of you.”
Everybody used to call her 'Nan'. We all used to run to her with all our troubles. I said to my friends, “Nan had 16 children.”
They said, “How do you know?”
I said, “'Cos we all lived near each other. We were all sort of brought up together, so we practically knew what all our families was.”
JR: It amazes me that. I know they had a lot of experience in having the children but it amazes me how they found the time to do a job, because it was a job going round.
VD: We had an old copper where you used to burn all your rubbish. But when we went up Gallows Hill we had a gas copper and my mum thought that was marvellous, just putting a light underneath it.
But she used to bring all the washing home from when they had the babies. She used to do all their washing and ironing.
And my mum used to have ever such heavy lace curtains but they used to come down every week. They was washed and boiled and starched, mangled and damped. Honestly! I don't know how they had time to do it. And yet everywhere was always spotless. My mum was ever so house proud. All my mum's sisters was house proud. Used to have to change your shoes and oo-ah. I always used to talk about it with my sister that died. I used to say, “Do you know what killed our mum? Hard work and having kids.”
She said, “It wasn't.”
I said, “It was. She had ten kids, so worked all her life doing midwifing. It killed her.”
My mum died in the pictures. My mum had a heart attack and died.
JR: Oh. Did she! Were you with her?
VD: No, my youngest sister and her husband was with her. But my brother-in-law always reckoned if they'd have had brandy they'd have saved her. My mum had her first heart attack when I was born. My mum laid in the fireplace in labour and she had a heart attack. They often wonder how she survived.
They kept telling my dad her heart wouldn't stand having any more children but she was still having them. After she had me, she didn't. She told us that they managed to revive her.
JR: So how old was your mum when she died?
VD: My mum was 42.
JR: Really! Is that all?
VD: Yes.
JR: So she'd had…
VD: Ten kids.
JR: I mean, your brother was 21, so for 20 years. She started when she was about 20, did she?
VD: The biggest difference between us was my Kath and me and there was three years difference between us two. But as fast as she was having one, as soon as she got over it, she was having another one. They call it a slum (the Green) but the houses were spotless. More so than some of them these days.
My dad always used to clean all the shoes. Even tho' my brothers was working, my dad used to clean all the shoes 'cos they all had their own jobs to do.
In those days we were brought up strict. Weren't allowed to use make-up. My friend, she could do what she liked. I used to say, “Give us a bit of your lipstick, give us a bit of your powder.”
We used to stand underneath the lamp, but before I went home I used to have to wipe that off because my dad said, “That girl, Carlton, you go with is no good because they use make-up.”
JR: How did you meet your husband?
VD: Oh my first husband. I met him in the war. My second husband I met, because I've been married twice, I met him, he was stationed at Hertford.
JR: So the first one you met during the war in this town?
VD: Yes, yes. I used to go with him before the war, then he went abroad. I fell out with him and I got engaged to Hampshire and he got killed. Then he came after the war and I married him. They all kept telling me I'd regret the day I'd done it and I wouldn't listen to them.
JR: What was his name?
VD: Brown. Worst day's work I done.
JR: Did he live in the Green as well?
VD: No, no. He lived at Hertford Heath. My Doris used to say, “You're going to regret the day. You're marrying him on the rebound because the other one got killed.”
But my second husband, he was a lot older than me. But he looked after me. I never wanted for nothing.
JR: So when did Mr. Brown die, then?
VD: I divorced him. I don't know when he died because he went away to live.
JR: Oh, your first husband you divorced. How long were you married then?
VD: My eldest son was 6 months old (when husband left home). He was coming home to me, and he was carrying on with someone else up Scarborough and I'd been married 3 years. And my brother and his wife they had a special detective follow him. I wasn't getting no money or nothing. In them days you didn't go down the Social Security. I had to put him in a day nursery and work and keep him, so my eldest brother and his wife, they practically kept me 'til we found him.
JR: I see.
VD: My second husband, we'd been married 27 years. They used to say, “He's too old.”
And I said, “At least he looks after me, that's the main thing,” I never had no regrets.
JR: Was he a local 'person?
VD: No, he came from Peterborough.
JR: But you stayed here.
VD: Oh, yes.
JR: Where did you live when you got married?
VD: Down Mead Lane. But we were going to Peterborough. I had a house, I had the keys, looked at the house and I came home and said, “I ain't going to Peterborough.” (I couldn't leave) all my friends and my family.
He said, “You don't really want to go?.”
I said, “No. (So the keys went back.) And it was a beautiful house. Brand new house. We always used to go up there weekends, but I wouldn't go up there to live. I suppose really I was a bit selfish because all his family was up there.
JR: Where did he work then, here?
VD: He used to work for Sketchleys, the cleaners, at the back of the, doing all the cleaning.
JR: He didn't work with, oh, I can't think of his name, lives in North Road.
VD: Knights? No, first of all he was a stoker in Ware Park Hospital and then it was shift work and I was getting a bit fed up with it. And then this job came at Sketchleys and he went to work at Sketchleys. Do you know Joan Game that works at Sketchleys - the manageress - she lives on top of me.
JR: Game?
VD: Her name was Game before she was married.
JR: Joan Beagles?
VD: Yes!
JR: Oh, yes, of course I do. Did she work for Arthur Knights as well?
VD: I think so, yes. Been there years, hasn't she? And Joan Wareham, she worked there.
JR: I go to St. Andrew's, and she goes and so does Kath.
VD: Yes, they all go to St. Andrew's Church.
JR: So when you got married, you lived down in Mead Lane. Did you stay there 'til…
VD: 'Til I moved up here. I lived 84, Bentley Road. And then we had unmarried mothers and noisy neighbours with music going. And I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Dr. Bench got them to move me out because he said, “If you don't move her out she's going to have a heart attack.”
And I went to Bengeo and I hated it and I was on the…, and I had cataracts and kept falling downstairs. One day the Social Services lady came up from Ware and 'cos I got angina, and the day before I'd fallen down and my arm was black and blue, and she said, “What you done?”
And I said, “I fell down the stairs again.”
she said, “Again!, what do you mean again!”
I said, “I'm always falling down.”
She said, “You can't stop in here.” And she phoned for Dr. Taylor and he come up and he said, “What about your back?”
“Oh!” I said, 'I haven't half got a bad back.' And I didn't realise I'd hit the stairs - my back was black and blue. He got through to the …. and within six weeks I was back up here.
But I didn't like it up there. People said, “You've got a lovely flat. You're silly to give up this flat.”
I said, “No good staying up here if I'm not happy.” And I was falling downstairs. It's true what Dr. Taylor said, “You could fall down these stairs and nobody's going to find you.” 'Cos they all used to go out to work because they was all youngsters.
JR: So you got this. How long have you been here?
VD: I been here two years in July but I lived down Bentley Road for 20 years.
JR: So you know quite a lot of people, neighbours
VD: Oh, yes. I think that's what it was. I knew everybody up here and at Bengeo I didn't know nobody and you missed the company of all your friends.
JR: It's quite remote isn't it. I mean it's all right if you've got a car, but I think you're better off here.
VD: Well, the bus service, by Bengeo, you got one every half an hour. But they went different directions. If I got off near the church, used to have to walk right down that road or if you got off the other one you'd got to go to Molewood and walk right down the road. I used to be there all day and never see a soul, never see nobody.
JR: A bit more life up here, isn't there.
VD: I mean, right near the shops.
JR: Yes, that's good, and the station, if you ever wanted to go by train anywhere
VD: Yes and you get a bus and it drops you right outside the hospital. I like it up here.
When I moved up Bengeo, I stood at the bus stop and this woman says to me, “Where are you from?.”
I said, “Down there.”
“Oh!” she said, “You come from the roughs, Sele Farm, the Ridgeway.
I said, “Excuse me, they're more bloody friendly at Sele Farm than what they are up here.” I said, “You're a lot of snobs.”
She said, “I beg your pardon.”
I said, “You're a lot of snobs.”
But do you know when I used to wait for the bus, it must have got round because they used to turn their backs on me. But they were, they were a lot of snobs.
I said, “I didn't come from the Ridgeway, I come from Bentley Road. The only reason they moved me was because there was a noise there”
I don't know if you've heard about poor old Joan.
JR: Yes. She's been over to the surgery.
VD: Yes and Roy, we all went together.
JR: Yes, that's right.
VD: Terrible, now it's started again. The other Monday we heard all this shouting and swearing and I do mean swearing. And I got up, and I come in here. And my son has to get up at 5 o'clock to go to work. And I said, “Hark at it up there.”
And he said, “Yes, I know.”
And we went in and put the kettle on. Then we heard somebody shout out, “Shut that racket - Roy!”
Roy said, “Did you hear me shouting twice.” But the language. They'd got a girl up there, Kelly. But the language. She swears worse than a man.
But that music. It's bad enough for us down the bottom, but poor old Joan. I mean one Friday, they stood by my window shouting up about they wanted bags and all Joan said, “She went to shut her window,” and oh, he swore at Joan. The one next door, she came down, she said, “Can you come up, Joan's breaking her heart.”
And I went up there. “What's the matter, Joan'.
So she said, “Outside of your window.”
I said, “Yes.”
She said, “Did you hear them.”
I heard a lot of hollering and shouting - arguing and shouting from me kitchen. But anyway they had to have a doctor to her. Then it stopped but now it's started up again, because the old boy's back again.
JR: The surgery's on again on Saturday if you want to pop over.
VD: Well, I might, because you see outside here, they let their dogs across here and they bring all their dogs and they mess right in front of my window and I have to go out and clear it up.
I went over to Mr. Sargent, “Can't we have a fence like they've got at Calton House?”
“Yes.” But we've never heard no more about it.
But they all take short cuts across there with the dogs. Mind you, I did catch one out there and I did report him. I knew who it was, but they didn't take no notice of you.
If there was a little fence there it would stop them. I was going down last time but when we went across there was nobody there. Another woman was going in.
JR: We've been open every 1st Saturday.
VD: I think this was the first Saturday in January, after the New Year.
JR: Well, there should have been, what time?
VD: It must have been about a quarter past ten.
JR: Oh, well. I'm surprised. I'm sure I did that one on that day.
VD: Are you a councillor?
JR: Yes.
VD: Oh, well, now you know I've put my complaint in.
JR: Yes.
VD: I didn't know you was a councillor. I know the other one is…
JR: Henry?
VD: No, Ruffles.
JR: Yes, he is, but not for up here.
VD: When we had any trouble we always used to go to him.
JR: Yes, he's now in, well he was only up here for a short time, he's in Castle which is down…
VD: All Saints
JR: Yes, that sort of area. But it's Hilary Durbin who's the East Herts District Councillor and myself, town; Henry Sargent East Herts.
VD: Well, I see. Henry Sargent. Roy said Vera's always out there cleaning it up, and when I phoned Riversmead, I said, “I'm not being funny but how would you like to go out and have to clean up dogs' muck when they leave it outside?”
“Don't clear it up!”
I said, “How would you like that outside of your place?'
My grandchildren come up but you can't let them out on it.
(pause)
JR: Vera's just told me she knows Ron Wright who we had on tape, so she's going to tell us.
VD: Well, he called me one day and said, “Vera, will you come round, I've got something to show you.” So he said, “Come upstairs.” And when we went up he had two big oil paintings and I looked up and said, “That's my Les.”
He said, “I know.”
And I said, “Well, when did you do them?.”
He said, “I sat at the window and I sketched it.”
There was one of him sitting in his pram. He was all smiles. And then the other one, you know when you see these paintings of children crying, one like that. You could see all the tears running down my Les's face.
'Oh!” I said, “Aren't they beautiful. Do you want to sell them?.”
“No!”
So I said, “Well, what are they going up there?”
He said, “Because I'm having an exhibition in London. And if you go in that exhibition and I haven't given ,you permission, you could sue me. I've got to get your written permission.”
He used to live next door to me. He used to do some beautiful paintings. All the film stars down there. When the stars used to come down, he used to tip the kids off, he used to say, “Don't go near, keep well away and you can see them coming.”
JR: So who used to visit him then?
VD: One day I'd got me hair all in rollers and my dog barked, it always had to be German. He kicked at the door and he said, “Can you tell me where Berkeley Studio is.”
So I said, “Never heard of it.”
So he said, “Well, this is Mead Lane.”
I said, “Yes, that's right.”
He said, “Ronnie Wright.”
“Oh!” I said, “You mean our Ron - next door but one!”
“Oh!” he said, “Thank you.”
So when he went, Ron come at my door. He said, “Did you recognise that?” Two of them there was. I said, “No, I never took a lot of notice.”
He said, “You watch your television Monday night.” He said, “There's a German war film on there and you recognise that fella' and that's the one that came to my door.”
JR: You don't know his name?
VD: No, but he acted a lot of German, because when he comes on as a German, I always say, “That's the bloke I didn't recognise.”
Dinah Sheridan, he was ever so friendly with Dinah Sheridan when she was married to Jimmy Handley, He tried to get Ron as a co-respondent in her divorce case, but he couldn't prove nothing.
JR: Yes, he mentioned about these film stars but I wasn't aware they came here.
VD: Oh, yes, came from down Mead Lane! It was Dinah Sheridan that set him on the road to the paintings, because she, her mother used to live at Welwyn Garden City and he was talking to her mother about sketching and she said bring them to show. She was something to do with royalty. She showed them to Dinah Sheridan and then Dinah Sheridan recommended people to go and have their drawings done, Bob Hope, Dinah Sheridan.
JR: Did they all come here?
VD: Oh no, only local ones that he knew. He used to go different places to work. He's trying to move. He's trying to get a bungalow. I said to him, “Still got them paintings of my Les?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “I'll have them when you get rid of them.”
He said, “You'll never get them, Vera.”
How he never really got into that sort of thing I would never understand.
JR: He's lived there all his life, hasn't he?
VD: Oh, yes, he was born there. His gran, his mum's mum lived there before. And when the wartime, we had a landmine and it was his dad's people, his mum and dad got killed and his sister. And he was talking about my brother said to him about ghosts and he said, “Vera, don't believe me
and I'm going to tell you something Vera.”
He went to a spiritual and she said, “Is there anybody here by the name of Ron?”
He said, “I put me hand up.”
She said, “You had an auntie Alice. She got killed in the war. She told me to tell you she's all one person, all whole.”
So I said, “What did she mean by that?”
He said, “I was the only one that knew, nobody else saw her.” Ron went to identify her and her breasts had been blown off. And she was telling me she was perfect. I never even told no one until I come home and I told mum and dad. And I'll tell you she did. She had both her breasts blew off.” He does faith healing, don't he?