General Chat

1938.. Spitting on the old flat iron until the familiar sizzle appeared the now cold spare iron was put onto the back jet of the black leaded gas cooker. The freshly ironed clothes already covered two chairs in two neat piles with as much again ready to be ironed, but, finally it was finished at last.. The woman removed the “pipe cleaners” from the ends of her hair; they preceded the silver clip type curlers which would later become fashionable. Combing the hair through and patting it into place she then removed the cross over apron and carefully folded it before placing it in the drawer that held the clean tea towels. The Ponds empty tin was removed from the cupboard and the now shiny powder puff it contained was lightly brushed over the face, her only concession to vanity. Two brown paper bags were removed from the old dresser drawer and into each of these were placed one orange, one slim bar of Cadburys chocolate and a bar of nougat. After a few whispered words with an old lady, (her mother) she took the small chubby toddler by the hand and left the house. It was a long walk and the child lagged behind pulling at its mother’s hand. She would stop and lift the child all the while trying to protect the two brown paper bags containing the precious treats. So she proceeded, lifting and carrying the child until she was forced by the weight to put her down again. This went on until; finally they reached the bus stop. It was such a big step to board the bus, but with mummy’s help the child managed it. They soon settled down on what seemed a very long journey. Alighting from the bus they again walked but only a short walk this time. Tall black railings appeared with a gate set into the middle. No drive and almost immediately beyond the gate four deep concrete steps led to a huge wooden door with black studs placed down its full length a large black door knocker in it’s centre. Lifting the heavy knocker the woman let it fall twice and stepped back a pace. Even through the thickness of the door a bell could be heard clanging from within and finally, it opened. The person looking out was dressed from head to toe in black, a veil covering the hair completely with just the face showing. The child pulled back frightened, cowering behind the woman’s skirt. Words were exchanged and the woman and child were invited inside and then directed to a room. The woman later left the room, her heels making a clacking sound as she crossed the highly polished floor of the hall. The two brown paper bags now lay in the fold of her arm. The toddler was left, for a short time in the care of the lady in black. The woman returned, minus the bags and wiping her eyes,

1949 I had only ever known my mum to “fall out” with two women, one, the lady who pawned her crocodile handbag, the one my Dad had sent her from Italy during the war. (Thread, Recollections, the unwanted Gift) and the other, well, while not a “falling out” I was aware she did not like the old lady who lived across the road from us. I have to be honest and say not a lot of people liked old Mrs T. Despite having a large family, children and grandchildren they did not often visit. I had just started to go dancing and Oh! How I loved this new world that was opening to me. Pencil skirts and little jersey tops, flat black pumps for jiving and of course, “bubble perms” I never gave the old lady across the road a second thought. Saturday night dances were my favourite despite strict orders from my Dad to be home by 10.30. Sunday morning would find us rushing to Mass at the last minute and sneaking into the back of the crowded church hoping our parish priest would not notice us latecomers! I swear that man had eyes in the back of his head! Without even turning around he would bellow out “Will all you young people who are crowding around the back of the church please come forward, there are plenty of seats down the centre aisle” Was he not aware we wanted to make a quick get away so we could discuss what boy had asked us to dance and who had walked us home the previous night? The silly man. On one such Sunday morning I found myself standing next to two girls. I did not know them but when the usual call blasted out to “Please come forward” we set off giggling and could not stop. After Mass I found myself walking along with the two girls and chatting away as if we had known each other all our lives. This then was my introduction to Julia and Christine the latter always called Tina. Imagine my surprise when reaching my street they too turned and entered it with me! At first I thought they were visiting but no, they informed me they had come to live there with their grandmother who happened to be old Mrs T. A year separated the girls, one would never know they were sisters; they shared neither looks nor personality, as different as chalk and cheese. Julia the older had a soft beauty, her blonde hair falling in deep natural waves around a serious face.. Even way back then I knew she would never make a decision without giving it a lot of thought, a bright dependable girl who did not make friends easily but when she did it would be for life. Her sister Tina was slightly smaller in height and frame her short brown curly hair framing an elfin mischievous face, a cheeky grin never far off. Soon the three of us were inseparable When we could manage to save and afford them even their choice in clothes could not be more different! Where Julia went for tailored skirts and nice blouses, Tina would opt for bright colours with beads galore. Looking back I am amazed that the three of us could form such a firm friendship, we differed in so many ways. Sometimes I likened us to a stew! So many different ingredients going into a big pot and yet, the end result a perfect taste to the pallet. Tina and I loved dancing, Julia did not and yet she would fall in with whatever we wanted to do and us, Tina and me with her. Somehow I expected to be “piggy in the middle” but that never happened, they were like night and day, hot and cold and yet, I found myself blending into this mixture as easily as eating or drinking. We all worked as machinists but not in the same place. Sadly, our lovely giddy times together came at a cost! As soon as I finished work, wolfed down my tea, I would dash across the road to see the girls. I was never invited in, but one or other of them would slip out on to the landing and inform me they were not allowed to come out until they had prepared dinner, washed up and done a load of housework. They did everything in the home and on top of this the grandmother Mrs T would take their wages from them and give them back coppers. The buying of clothes which I mentioned above would come later when they rebelled! We yearned to go swimming but did not have a swimming costume between us! Mum arrived home one day and told me “Guiney’s” department store had a great sale on and she had noticed they had bathing costumes for 4/6 “ I could not wait to tell the girls, but where were they going to get the four shillings and six pence ? I myself had ten shillings every week from my wages so knew I could manage it if I cut out the dancing for a week. Shock, shock, while I would have expected it of Tina the quiet Julia came to the fore and informed grandma that from now on they would be taking ten shillings a week from their wages and she could have the rest!!! I stayed well out of the way for several weeks not wanting to feel the wrath of Mrs T in case she thought it was my doing!

Sometime in the 1960s My younger sister had bought a new house and invited us over to Dublin see it. I was not familiar with the area where she now lived never having gone there before. Driving from the car ferry we made our way in what I hoped was the right direction. Arriving at a T junction and a set of traffic lights we stopped on the red light. Talk about Déjà Vu Turning to my husband I said “I’m sure I was in this place before” He replied, you probably were when you lived in Dublin many years ago” yet I could not recall having been in that part of the city. The large grey building directly opposite us was surrounded by black railings with a gate in its center. Just beyond the gate four deep concrete steps led up to a large wooden door. I just had time to notice a brass plaque on the wall and could just make out the word 'Convent'before we had to drive off. Mum and I were such good pals, we would sit and talk for hours recalling our old street and neighbours back in Ireland. Curious, I asked about Mrs T and mum’s dislike of her. It emerged the daughter of the old lady (one of eight) was mum’s best friend. Connie and mum went dancing together and eventually they both married and lived in the same street. Connie gave birth to two children but sadly died of tuberculosis at a very young age. Billy the young husband tried to struggle on but found it impossible to cope. The two girls were put into an orphanage This really upset mum no end. No one knew what became of Billy. She always felt the grandmother or one of the now seven sisters of Connie should have stepped in and taken the girls, forecasting the grandmother would soon have them when they were grown up and wage earning. How right she was! I had always thought I could only remember back from the age of seven years but, hearing this story sent me flying back to something long since forgotten, a memory was emerging. I felt compelled to ask mum did she ever visit the children. Yes, she replied but not very often, She could not afford to drag her brood on to busses and travel across the city. I told mum I was sure she had taken me along on one of her visits describing what I could remember. Mum could not remember. How vividly I remember the oranges and the nuns in their black habits. I can place the year because there would soon be no oranges only those on the black market and mum could certainly not afford those! I must have been about four years old. How strange that I would unknowingly become friends with two girls who were the daughters of mum’s late friend. Of course mum must have known who they were when they came to live in our street but why had she never told me then? Was this why she was always so kind to them? Who knows, so many questions left unanswered? As Julia was a year older than Tina she could have left the convent when she was sixteen. Was her love for her sister so deep she elected to stay there another year until they could both leave together? Her unofficial protector, And darling Tina, let loose into a world that was oh so strange and new to her, who then could blame her for her lust for life, free at last from the restrictions and rules of convent life. The caged birds were free to soar at last. Bridget x

We could not wait to get to the shop, worried in case they (the bathing costumes) were all sold out. Drat! They did have the elasticised ones but only in a canary yellow shade. Desperate, we bought three, one each. Julia, always the sensible one suggested we should embroider our initials to one side, no easy task on elasticised material! A dab hand with the needle she elected to do the work. My first “grown up bathing costume” and with my very own initial on the side. I preened and posed in front of my nanas full length mirror, Esther Williams eat your heart out! The following Sunday found us out in Dollymount, our nearest seaside. The road leading to the beach is long, the drop to the left hand side leading to sandy beaches and popular with families with young children. We opted for the right hand side where one had to clamber down over huge boulders to reach the waters edge, it was more private. Finding a secluded place we changed into our costumes and were soon splashing around in the sea. What a sight we must have looked, three yellow figures bobbing up and down in the waves. An hour or so later, we decided we would go and sunbathe on the rocks. Tina led the way with me close behind. A sudden shriek from Julia stopped us in our tracks! We turned to see her frantically pointing at us both, “In heavens’ name, what’s the matter” I asked Tina. It soon became apparent! Our now wet costumes had become see through! everything showed through, nothing left to the imagination!!! To make matters worse a group of lads had positioned themselves on the rocks during our swim calling out to us. Diving back into the safety and coverage of the waves we swam around and around hoping the lads would get fed up with the lack of response from the three yellow canaries and go away. They did eventually move off but not before our skin had shrivelled to a prune like texture and we staggered out of the sea, exhausted. Ahhh, so much for our bargain swimsuits! Our halcyon days continued throughout that lovely summer, dancing, cycling and yes, even long walks while we awaited our next pay day. Tina, especially lived life to the full, living each day as if there was no tomorrow. Like a caged bird set free she wanted to taste and experience everything defying anyone to stop or get in her way! Soon, she was not prepared to accept the ground rules laid down by grandma, harsh though they were and returned from dances when she wanted to and not before. Julia would point out to her the sensible way to get around things but our headstrong little butterfly was not prepared to listen. Our lovely friendship continued only breaking up when romance entered our young lives. Julia, older than us by one year was the first to break away. She would meet and years later marry John, a young carpenter, her first and only love. I am told they had a wonderful and happy marriage eventually moving and setting up home in London. My itchy feet would take me far away to pastures green leaving Tina still living life to the full. We were never to meet again, although I was to learn later Tina’s eventual marriage was not a happy one. Violence and alcohol played a big part in the marriage. I wondered did they stay together and overcome the demons. I hoped so, or had the wings of our little butterfly become crushed and damaged along life’s way?

I love reading about your life You make it so easy to go back in time and see it Jill xx :)

Absolutely brilliant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please have these stories published. Sue

Bridget, that's so sad..........yet a lovely story. I'm glad Julia found happiness, it does sound as though she was more the mother figure to her younger sister, always serious, probably about their future? Such a shame about Tina though, she and Julia were both let down.....but one can't say by the system, as there was nothing in those days I imagine........everyone had to rely on other family members coming to the rescue. What a cold grandmother.......things were hard for everyone then but, if you can't help your own, then you don't deserve to be well thought of. When I was reading the part of your story which mentioned the orphanage..........the simple gift and the huge door, I took a sharp intake of breath, as that was deja vu for me.............my brother and I spent a month in a childrens home run by nuns, when mum had to spend that month in hospital...........I just had a small taste of what it was like.........so I really felt for them. Thanks for the story Bridget...............have you given any more thought to compiling this book yet lol??? You should do. Very well written as always. Jen

Thank you again Bridget. Germaine x

Bridget I look forward to your recollections. They make wonderfull reading and you should definately think about publishing them Sandra

Bridget, I've just spotted your earlier thread about the amount of words a page will take................I think if you treat each post as you would a book page i.e, something like A4 size, you should get them on OK. Hope this helps. Jen

Bridget, I get so excited when I spot one of your recollections, they are a pleasure to read. Thank you. Rosi

Bridget, compelling reading, I love your stories. Thank you. Liz

Hi Bridget, Thank you for sharing that with us all. I always look forward to reading your threads, you write so beautifully. Jill xx