Guest Post - My Sister Remembers - The End - For Now!

A guest post by my sister Sue Poulter. See previous post here

I went to the pre-natal clinic in Hartley Wintney where I met other mums-to-be and at last made some friends. One particular friend, Doreen, lived on the side of the common in Hartley Wintney, we visited each other most days for a cup of tea and a chat, and I began to feel less cut off. The trouble was I was soon too big to get behind the wheel of a car, and it was some months after Paula Jane was born that I was brave enough to start driving again. We had an old wooden garage with no floor just two planks to park on. Bob found it easy but the first time I tried to get the car out I ran it off the planks – you can guess how popular I was!

Paula Jane was born on the 9th October 1966, and “Auntie” Pauline came to look after us.  It was an easy birth, and I was allowed home after 24 hours. Paula was a beautiful bonny baby, and it was lovely to get home so soon.  Pauline was wonderful she took the children out and managed very well with James, considering he screamed all night every night. She was so patient with him and played with him for hours on end while I looked after Paula and entertained all the family who came to view the fourth member of the Wood football team. Mum and dad were horrified when they heard I was pregnant again, but once they saw Paula they were as charmed by her as everyone else was. After Pauline went home Bob dealt with James in a very different way. First night James screamed and screamed and Bob and I both tried to pacify him. Well, it didn't work, but the short sharp slap across his bottom certainly did!

James continued to be a problem. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to walk, and everything else was a battle. Paula, on the other hand, and thank goodness, was as placid as Michael and had a very sunny disposition. Times were hard and we really did have to survive on the bare essentials. I regret I have so few photos of James and Paula as babies – simply because it was too expensive to buy films and pay to get them developed. I had a photo of all four of them taken together at Hartley Wintney, but it was months before we could afford to go and collect it.

A day out at Frensham Pond

At least now that I could drive I could take all the children out in the summer. By this time we had swapped the van for a little car. I used to collect mum, and the six of us would go for a picnic at Frensham Pond or to the coast. Life was always a bit of a battle with four children and very little money, but we soldiered on. I was envious of Bob because he remembered lovely little stories about the kids, but I could only remember the nappies, tantrums and hard times without money. When the children were older, I used to ask Bob to tell me all the things they had said and done as youngsters as I felt I had missed so much.

Doreen always said she had no idea how James managed to stay alive as he drove everyone to distraction. He was a lovely looking lad with big blue eyes and curly blond hair, but knew exactly how to wind people up. He would sit in his high chair and spit his dinner everywhere, and he never slept. He had boundless energy and wanted to play all night. For a while Bob and I tried taking it in turns to play with him until after midnight, but it made no difference so it was back to a slap across the buttocks!

Paula was baptised at a lovely little church in Winchfield. We had to get special permission from the Rural Dean because the church had been unused for a very long time. It was a really lovely occasion, and once again all the family and friends came back to our house for tea and cake.

St. Mary's Church Winchfield

Bob worked long hours, and so I often went to Well to visit mum and dad where we knew we would get a very good tea. One afternoon as I was about to drive away the driver’s seat sunk through the floor of the car.  Dad gave me a tin lid to put under it to stop me ending up on the road while I drove home.

At about this time the kids decided they really wanted a pet, so we got a white cat and ended up naming her “Mum Cat” because like me, she kept getting pregnant. We let her keep one kitten “Ginger” and they were both with us for many years. All the other kittens were taken to the pet shop in Victoria Road, Aldershot until we saved up enough money to get Mum Cat “done”.

The children with "Mum Cat" left to right; Michael, James, Jackie (at back) and Paula.

Jackie was five years old when we were at Taplin’s Farm, and a decision had to be made about her education. She was very highly strung and had lots of habits like folding and unfolding blankets and rocking backwards and forwards for hours on end. She was always happy and knew lots of nursery rhymes and poems. It was decided she would start school at Hartley Wintney Infants on a part-time basis.  It was an absolute disaster. She was completely lost and panicky because I wasn’t there. In those days teachers didn’t get any extra help for children with (what we now call) learning difficulties. The third day was the hardest of all for Jackie; she panicked and in trying to get away bumped into and knocked over some children in the playground. When I arrived to collect her at the end of the day I was met by some of the parents who were furious at the behaviour of my “awful child”. The Head Mistress more or less told me not to darken her door again and went on to say, “there are special places for children like that”. I remember walking home with the children and crying my eyes out wondering what would happen next.

Well, what happened was she went to Compton Diagnostic Unit near Winchester and lived and was educated there until she was nine years old. She came home for weekends and holidays, and we visited her at school.  It really was a lovely place, and she was very happy there, things seemed to improve, and she didn't have as many seizures for a while. She enjoyed her lessons and liked the teachers, and we began to hope for better things.    

In the meantime, life was becoming more difficult for Bob at Taplin’s Farm. His boss became increasingly demanding and often did strange things. In the middle of one harvest, when the weather was beautiful, he called all the men out of the fields and Bob out of the milking parlour and insisted they spend the day cutting down stinging nettles.  He would not allow them to stop for a cup of tea or lunch, and the cows didn’t get milked until after 9 pm that night.  His wife tried to intervene, but he would have none of it and told her to get indoors and mind her own business.   Bob stuck it out for three more years before deciding it was time to start looking around again. It was only later we learnt his boss had been ill for many years and eventually died from a brain haemorrhage.        

Our next move was to Northbrook Farm just outside Bentley. Bob was taken on as Herd Manager, a job he came to love. Our new home was a Gothic style semi-detached three bedroomed house. Two of the bedrooms were upstairs, and the third which the boys shared was down. Bob worked from 4.30 am until 11.30 am and then had two and a half hours for his lunch break and went back for afternoon milking and any other jobs connected with the cattle. He finished work when he could but with animals that could be at any time of the night. He looked after a herd of Friesian cattle and was responsible for keeping the books and increasing the milk yield.

Bob and cows at Northbrook Farm

I became friends with the house keeper and her daughter at Northbrook House. They lived in a really nice flat above the stable block; you can just see it in the following picture (below the clock tower). They had a pretty walled garden, and it was lovely to visit them and sit there with a cup of tea in the summer. It was such a treat to have nice people to visit and to visit me. 

Northbrook House

Money was not so tight now as I had a cleaning job, and Bob was getting a regular bonus on his milk production, so we were able to buy a better car. We started entertaining a little in the evenings. I would cook a nice dinner, and we had the occasional bottle of wine. Life was not all honey. It was still hard work with the children and even more so when Jackie came home for the school holidays.  She contracted German measles whilst at school and was really very ill. Her seizures got worse and the drugs no longer controlled them. Sometimes,  she would have up to ten seizures in one day.  

By now, both Michael and James were at school, and Jackie had moved to Lingfield Hospital School (now the National Centre for Epilepsy) in Surrey.  It was a very large school. She lived in one of a row of houses with approximately eight pupils plus staff.  It was like a village with its own very good school, hospital, church, restaurant and various other facilities. It was a much longer journey for us, and I often had to do the drive on a Sunday as Bob would be working. It was now time to change the car again so we bought an Austin Cambridge, which was much larger. The kids and I would go off on the journey to Lingfield, which was always a bit of an adventure. Once there we collected Jackie and off we would go to find a café for a cup of tea. I remember once we set off and got stuck in floods and had to get someone with a tractor to pull us out and dry the plugs before we could set off again. I was a bit nervous after that and used to stay around Lingfield more.  

Jackie, Michael and James at Northbrook

After we had been at Northbrook for a few years the farm manager and his family moved, and we were offered their old house. Once again, it was in the Gothic style with a very nice front garden with roses and clematis climbing over the walls and the porch.  I knew the house very well having cleaned it for a few years and was excited to move in.  It had a large kitchen with a walk in larder, a downstairs toilet and a store cupboard. After we moved in we discovered the larder flooded after heavy rain and if we had snow we had to shovel it out of the loft! We had a dining room and a large lounge, three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Our new home was just behind our old one so on moving day we put the furniture on a tractor and trailer and shifted it about a hundred yards.  We had a garage with room for Guinea-pig cages and a shed for the dog to live in when we were out, and another shed for chickens. We bought the chickens with the idea that we would have eggs and when they stopped laying we would eat them - some hope! The chicken laid very few eggs and were all given proper burials in the woods when they died of old age!  We wanted a bigger vegetable garden and the owner of the farm said we could have part of the field behind the house. Once we cleared it of stones (really good work for the kids!) we could grow everything we needed, including fruit bushes and trees and always had plenty to share around with others on the farm and our relatives.

The rest of my story is as yet unwritten. I have it in mind to continue with it, but it may have to wait for a year or two as my life is still as hectic as ever. That’s all for now, Sue Poulter nee Flitney  

Guest Post - My Sister Remembers - Part Nine

A guest post by my sister Sue Poulter. See previous post here

Part of the deal at Wyck was that I had to work on the farm. One of my first jobs was helping the other women cut strings to use for training the hops. It was winter time and very cold, so I always put a hot-water bottle in the pram with Jackie, but it was hard to keep her warm and impossible to keep myself warm. When the snow came I asked the farm manager if we could have some heating in the barn, but his answer was a resounding no. The snow was so bad I had to pull the pram through snowdrifts to get to the barn. All the other women seemed happy to put up with it, but I downed tools one particularly bad day and said, “No heat, no work” and walked out. The other women chased after me and said that Bob would lose his job, but I won the day, and we had a heater installed in the barn soon after. It didn't make much difference though and the snow lasted until after Easter.

Sue and Jackie at Wyck

Once Bob started working in the hop gardens all his clothes and the house smelt of hops which I hated.  Following harassment from the farm manager, who thought I was ungrateful and should remember I was living in a tied cottage, Bob decided it was time to look for another job.  Mum and dad felt sorry for us, and dad asked Bob if he would like to become his Herdsman at Well Manor Farm.  We thought this would be fine, but it doesn't pay to live next door to your parents and certainly not to work for your father-in-law. Dad was not the easiest of people to work with and didn't have much patience with Bob. The hours were long, and the pay was poor and Bob ended up getting part time gardening work on his one day off a week. The house we lived in was very cold, and we only had a fire with a back boiler for heating the water, and coal was so expensive we had to sell some of our belongings to pay for it.  I loved the garden though and grew all our own vegetables. I remember a visit from granny who seeing me digging up potatoes gave Bob a really hard time, but he was working all hours and was always exhausted.

Bob and Jackie in the garden at Well

Mum and dad seemed to be fairly comfortably off at this time so when the grocery van came from Bentley Stores mum would buy loads of vegetables, fruit and "best ham" whilst Bob and I could only afford perhaps a loaf of bread. Funny when a mother seems to take delight in having more than her children.  I remember on one occasion she bought a new rug for the kitchen and asked if I wanted the old one. I was really pleased as we didn't have one, but when she brought it round she asked me to pay for it. I paid up but could have done with the money to put towards the outstanding electricity and other bills.

The Well at Well

The village had not changed since I was a teenager. There was an old water well in the middle, which I assume gave the place its name, and one pub called The Chequers, there were no buses and because Bob didn't drink there was nothing to do in the village. Jackie was a very bright baby. She read simple words and remembered every song and nursery rhyme we taught her, and of course I had plenty of time to spend with her. The highlight of my year was to go next door to watch the Royal Variety Performance on mum and dad’s television. I would wash, change and put my make-up on, as though I was going somewhere special. I started driving lessons as Bob thought it would be good for me to get out and about. The lessons had to stop when I found I was pregnant again and there was no chance of any spare money. This time the doctor kept more of an eye on me because of the problems when I was pregnant with Jackie. We couldn't afford all the food he suggested, but we had plenty of fresh vegetables and salad in the garden, so I lived on that. Probably the reason I regained my figure so quickly after the new baby was born.

Mum in the garden with Michael

Michael was born in the February of 1964 and Mum Wood looked after Jackie while I was in the hospital. His was a more straightforward birth, and he was a lovely placid baby with a mop of black hair. Everyone said he looked like a member of The Beatles, who were all the rage at the time. I was in the hospital for ten days and really looking forward to getting home to Jackie but when I did she had forgotten me and bonded with Mum Wood.  It was really upsetting but it only took a few days for her to get used to me again. Thank goodness Michael was such a good baby as not long after he was born Jackie suddenly became ill. She was two years old that summer, and it was then that she started screaming at night while rocking backwards and forwards and hitting her head against the wall. It was very distressing and nothing we did helped. The doctor suggested giving her junior aspirin, which also didn't help but she seemed better after a week or two and so with much relief we put it down to a virus. 

We managed to scrape up enough money for me to start my driving lessons again, and luckily I passed the test at my first attempt. We didn't know it at the time, but this was to prove a Godsend. 

It was a short while later that Bob began to have health problems. During the war, when he was six or seven, he was run over by a tank at the top of Worldham Hill (probably playing “chicken”or some such game) and spent many months in hospitals undergoing plastic surgery to his arm. Now all these years later a growth appeared on his arm. The doctor decided the growth would have to be removed and although the operation was a success, it made us appreciate each other more and reminded us just how short life can be. Bob always wore long-sleeved shirts even in the summer months but after more plastic surgery, he was happy to have his arm on show.  Jackie had continued to be a concern and on one of the doctor's visits to Bob, I asked him to take a look at her.  She had put on a lot of weight, and her face was often flushed. I thought it might be indigestion, but the doctor felt it could be epilepsy. My dad said it would be best to forget about it as she would be fine when she got older. Not an easy thing to do when you are worried about so many things.

Michael

I found out I was pregnant again when Michael was eight months old. I must say I wasn't very pleased as I felt two children were enough. Bob, however, was over the moon saying he would get his football team yet! As I've said previously Michael was a lovely baby, very easy to feed and always happy to sleep. He was baptised at Long Sutton Church on a very warm day when I was already seven months pregnant. After the service, all the family and friends came back to our house for tea. It was a nice day, but I was quite pleased when everyone went home.  When I went into labour with James Matthew in July 1965, Jacqueline and Michael went to stay with their Auntie Pat and Uncle Mike in Alton, where they had a lovely time playing with their cousins. I think coming home to a crying baby must have been a bit of a shock for them. Although they had a lovely time in Alton it was a shame they could not stay at home with Grandma and Granddad Flitney living next door, but they made it quite clear that as I was having the children it was my responsibility to find someone to look after them as they were not going to!

Sue holding Michael and mum holding hands with Jackie

Not long after James was born Bob started getting attention from a very attractive young lady in the village. Her car always (conveniently for her) broke down outside our house when Bob was at home for lunch. He would leave his lunch and go out to check she and her car were all right. After a few months of this I went to see her and told her just what I would do if she didn't leave him alone.  I can be quite a scary person when angry, and she backed off. I felt almost sorry for Bob as I’m sure he was quite innocent as to what she was up to, but I was having none of it.  Soon after this he decided it was time for a move, especially as relations between him and dad were becoming very strained.

After a few interviews he secured a job at Taplins Farm, between Hartley Wintney and Winchfield. The farm has now gone the way of many others and is an Industrial Estate. But when we lived there it was a rural area with beautiful views. We had a detached house with a conservatory on the side, and a lovely playroom for the children. When we first moved in the children had some bad tummy upsets and Michael often had sore throats and had to have his tonsils removed. Jackie also became unwell again and began to have “vacant” spells. The doctor suggested we take her to see a paediatrician in Reading. Bob couldn't get time off for the appointment so I drove myself and Jackie there. The consultant was most unsympathetic and after carrying out some tests said, “Well you know Jacqueline was starved of oxygen at birth and is brain damaged, which has resulted in Epilepsy." He started her on a course of anticonvulsant drugs and told me to come back in three months.  I was absolutely astounded, as although we had both had a bad time during her birth, not one person had mentioned her being starved of oxygen. The consultant assumed I knew all about it, but things were so very different in those days, and the patient was seldom told the complete story.  Now it was up to me to drive home from Reading and break the news to Bob...

To be continued 

Guest Post – My Sister Remembers – Part Eight

Bob and I began our married life at Number 5, Blanket Street, East Worldham, near Alton in Hampshire.  A beautiful old thatched house, which we rented from Gales Brewery, very picturesque, but with no running water and a lavi down the back garden. The front garden was surrounded by a stone wall with a little wooden gate in the middle. Going through the front door you entered a nice sized lounge with a huge inglenook fireplace and a large understairs cupboard where we found a lovely copper warming pan. Off the lounge was a small dining room. The stairs went up from the lounge to one large bedroom and one small one directly off that. All the walls and ceilings had large black beams, which I loved. I spent many happy hours making curtains for the pretty windows and making the house look as cosy as I could. At the back of the house was the scullery, which was just a room with a flagstone floor and a gas cooker. Someone gave us a kitchen cabinet with a drop-down front which we used as a work surface, it was also handy for storing food and china. It was at about this time Bob had a win on the football pools. I'm not sure of the actual amount he won, but I think it was about £180, which was a lot of money in 1961. We went to The Ideal Home Exhibition in London and bought new lino for the lounge, dining room and bedroom, a bedroom suite, a spin dryer and a radio – what luxury.   

Left to right; Marian, Pat Wood holding Simon and Hartie Wood.

There was an elderly gentleman living next door, a real character with a house full of treasures.  He gave us some small trinkets to help our home look lived in. He also gave me a carpet beater which I would use to give the rugs a good old smacking, a wonderful thing to do when I ran out of humour. The Blacksmith shop/forge was on the right of our house and Bob’s mum and dad lived in the house next to that. Behind their house was a yard with a washhouse in a block. It might sound romantic, but you should try doing your washing in the winter. The outside tap always froze up and I remember once boiling the last of the bucket of water to try to thaw it out. Bob didn't worry too much about it preferring to leave me to get on with it.  It's great when you are young and in love but I certainly wouldn't be happy doing it now!

The outside of the house has changed little over the years other than half the front garden has been taken for parking and the thatch that was old and black has been replaced. It is now a modern detached house with running water and bathrooms, how I wish I could afford to buy it, but at least I can say, “I lived there”.

The house as it looks now.

I adopted lots of cats at Blanket Street. They came from the farm but much preferred living with us. When the farmer found out where they were he wanted them back so Bob bought me a lovely little black-and-white kitten which we called Ally Cat.  I loved him to bits, but he was only a few months old when he got run over by a car, and I decided I wouldn't have any more cats.

Ally Cat at the front of the house

Not long after that we rescued a dog. He was living in a coal bunker at the back of the Three Horse Shoes Pub, and the landlord really didn't  want him. The poor thing barked and whined day and night and in the end we asked the landlord if we could have him, but he insisted we pay for him.  We scraped the money together and took this poor one-year-old bedraggled pedigree Golden Labrador, called Worldham Honey home. We renamed him Shandy after his early days in the pub. He lived with us for many years and died when we were living at Northbrook Farm, but he never recovered from his first year living in the dark. The first time I went out and left him at Blanket Street he chewed up all the cushions and ruined Bob’s model aircraft. He also stole food, even though we fed him well twice a day.  He once stole an egg and bacon pie I had just taken out of the oven, I put it on the pull-down flap of the cabinet, it must have been very hot when he dragged it down and ate it. If we let him off the lead he would run away and often be gone overnight. It was at about this time he went back to howling at night, and that was awful. We took him on the train to a dog show in Farnham, and he was as good as gold but one of the judges said his legs were too long to be a good show dog and if we wanted to stop him howling we should let him become a breed dog. Off he went a week or so later to spend the night with a lady dog, he came home the next day and was worse than ever, and it was something like five years later before he stopped howling at night. I am not sure how he lived so long!!

Thinking back I suppose I should have looked for work during those early months of our marriage, but I found it really hard just running the home.  Anyway, by June of the following year Jacqueline Denise was born. Jackie, as she became known when older, was named after her two Grandfathers – Jack and Denis. We knew a few months before she was due that she would be a breech baby. I went into Alton General Hospital where they tried to turn her, but it didn't work, and I was taken to Winchester Hospital by ambulance. It was hard for me as although the staff phoned Bob he was not able to leave work to be with me. Things were a lot different in those days and women just had to get on with it – no such thing as maternity leave for men back then. 

I was in hospital for three weeks before Jackie was born. It was a forceps delivery and I was not allowed to hold her for a few days and was quite unwell myself. When we took her home ten days later we were told she should be left in her cot as much as possible as she had had a difficult time. Mum and dad picked us up from Winchester hospital and Jackie was in her carrycot. Mum wanted to carry her indoors, but Bob said she should be left in her carrycot and at that mum got very annoyed and she and dad went home.  I didn't hear anything from them for weeks, and it was very hurtful. We didn't have a phone and mobiles were unheard of in those days so we didn't sort it out properly for ages. It was very difficult looking after Jackie in the old house, she was not an easy baby, and would not suck from a bottle and I didn't want to breast feed. She would cry and cry all night and I thought I would go mad. I also thought I was a really bad mum as she so got on my nerves and I had no help from anyone. Eventually, the local nurse suggested I put a needle through the teat of her bottle so that I could just pour the milk gently into her mouth and it did make life much better. 

Tony and Eva Flitney (Eva holding Jackie), Denis and Rene Flitney and Barbara at the front.

Jacqueline was baptised at St. Mary’s Church, East Worldham. Pam and Norman’s son, Andrew was born in August and so we had a double christening. It was another really lovely sunny day, and although we couldn't afford many new clothes, Bob bought me a blue and white check suit, which looked very smart for the occasion. I found a beautiful christening gown in an antique shop which fitted Jackie perfectly. 

St. Mary’s Church, East Worldham

Sue, Bob and Jackie

We realised it would be difficult to get through another winter at Blanket Street, and as we were unable to get a Council House Bob decided to look for a job with a cottage. He got a job on a hop farm at Wyck, which is a few miles from Alton and close to Binstead. We moved into a semi-detached house with an indoor toilet, bathroom, a lovely garden and gorgeous views over the Hanger, which spreads all the way to Selborne.  Summer time at Wyck was idyllic and Pat Wood, and Pam Kirk would often walk over with Simon and Andrew and the babies would crawl about in the garden. Mum Wood was a very good mum-in-law she always arrived with food parcels and sometimes the corned beef or bread and jam she gave us was the only food we had for the last few days of the week. She also spent a lot of time knitting clothes for the babies and Jackie always wore what she knitted. Money was so short then that a social life was out of the question, but long walks with Shandy always made me feel better. It must have been hard for Bob but he always seemed content with his life.

My 21st birthday was spent at Wyck. I didn't have a party but Pat and Mike came for a visit and gave me a gift of a round dressing table stool with a furry cover. I really loved it, and it was in constant use for more than thirty years. Mum and dad gave me a dressing table set which has only just fallen apart and mum and dad Wood gave me a pretty powder compact. Bob bought me my best present ever – a sewing machine, which was passed on to Paula when it was about thirty years old.

One really sad thing happened while we were living there. Jack Wood (Bob’s father) died; it was a difficult time for Hartie and all the family. He was unwell for a long time, and it’s thought some of the problems with his lungs originated from the First World War.  He was a Blacksmith all his working life and even shod horses during the war.  He was a very well respected person in East Worldham, and some of his work remains in the church to this day.

Some of the item's in East Worldham Church made by Jack Wood

To be continued... 

Guest Post - My Sister Remembers - Part Seven

When I look back I can understand why my mum and dad were worried about me wanting to get married. There was a six-year age gap between Bob and I, and I had never had any other serious relationships. I still had to be home by 9pm (unless there was a dance) and Bob always made sure I was. We wanted to get married when I was seventeen, but mum and dad would not hear of it. We got engaged anyway on a day trip to Windsor, and we went to Aldershot where he bought me a lovely Sapphire ring. That caused a real upset as my friend, Violet, told my parents before I had a chance to talk to them. My dad was furious and said I could not get married until I was nineteen, he did not believe we would still be together then.

Bob in 1961

Bob’s family always made me welcome. We often visited Mike (Bob’s brother) his wife Pat and their daughter Marian in Alton. Bob was Marian's Godfather, and he thought an awful lot of her. They lived in a bungalow with all mod cons. There was no bathroom in Bob’s parent’s house, and so he visited Pat and Mike once a week to have a bath. After we got married, we had no bathroom either so the regular trips to Alton went on.   

We proved dad wrong and on the 3rd June 1961 Bob and I were married at Long Sutton Church. Mum persuaded me to buy a second-hand dress for the wedding, which I always regretted, but everyone said it looked nice, and it did save money. It had a high neck and was embossed net over satin with a full skirt. I managed to upset one of Bob’s Aunties by not asking her to make my wedding dress. None of the family thought to tell me it was the tradition which was a shame because I could have had a dress in the style I really wanted. She was the only invited guest who failed to turn up at our wedding.

I was up bright and early on the morning of the wedding.  Mrs. Matheson offered me flowers from the garden at Well Manor to decorate the church. It was a perfect day with not a cloud in the sky and my arms were soon full of roses, delphiniums, Ladies Mantle and lots of greenery. I cycled to Long Sutton and arranged the flowers all around the church which took much longer than expected. When I got home mum was in a panic as I had only half an hour to get ready. My hair had been washed and set in Odiham on the previous day so, pin in the kiss curl, a quick wash and into my dress, face powder, lipstick, brush out pin curl, clip on veil and ready.

Left to Right - Jack Wood, Hartie Wood, Mike Wood, Marian, Bob, Sue, Barbara Flitney, Rene Flitney, Denis Flitney

My bouquet turned up just in time and the bridesmaids, Barbara and Bob’s Goddaughter Marian, both wore pretty dresses and carried baskets of flowers in pastel colours. I can’t remember, but I expect dad had to go to Alton to pick Marian up. I know she, and my sister got on really well and Barbara was very good and looked after Marian all day. (Actually Sue I think Marian looked after me – she was much younger but also far more sensible!) Dad and one of the uncles dressed their cars with white ribbon and off we all went to the church. Mum wore a lovely blue/grey pleated dress, which really suited her, so much so that she was buried in the same dress several years later. Mike was Bob’s best man and managed to get him to the church on time. The rest of the family from Alton hired a coach to get to the church, which was the easiest solution as few people had cars in those days, and public transport was hopeless.

As I walked into the church on dad’s arm the organist (not the usual one) played “Fight the Good Fight” which as you might imagine caused quite a laugh. The Rural Dean, the Rev Knapp who was the vicar at East Worldham took the ceremony along with the Vicar of Long Sutton. We had the full choir and the bell ringers. After the ceremony, photographs were taken outside the church, it was still a lovely sunny day, and half the village turned out to watch. Our reception was held in Long Sutton Village Hall. Friends and neighbours helped prepare the food the evening before, and it was while setting it all up that Bob caused a stir by turning up. “Its bad luck to see the bride before the wedding” was the cry that went around the hall, but I wasn't worried as I felt sure that only counted on the actual wedding day.

Left to Right - Hartie Wood (mother of the groom) , Rene Flitney (mother of the bride), Cousin John Flitney, Bob, Sue and Bob's Aunt Olive.
The little lad in front is Colin Smith (son of Aunt Jean & Uncle Graham)

The reception was not like wedding receptions of today with all the expense they incur and we managed to do it all very cheaply. The glasses and drink came from the local pub on the understanding that anything unused could be returned for a refund. Bentley Stores delivered lots of cakes, and we made egg, ham (best ham!) and corned beef sandwiches. We put out tables, covered with mum’s pretty embroidered tablecloths, plates of sandwiches and cakes on each table and everyone had these with either an alcoholic drink or a cup of tea.

The wedding cake was a wedding present from mum and dad, but we paid for everything else ourselves. Unfortunately, the cake was so hard it proved impossible to cut, the best we could do was pose for photographs with the uncut cake. Later mum and dad managed to hack some slices out of it to pass around to the guests.  My granddad got very drunk and decided to walk off with half the presents, but very quickly got stopped in his tracks and told to put them back. He could not understand that we might need ten tea towels! My Godmother, Rebecca West, was out of the country but she sent us a cheque for £50.00 – a lot of money in those days.

Visiting Wimble Hill Hospital, Uncle Bill (Bill Harding brother of Rene Harding nee Flitney) acting as chauffeur.

After the wedding we visited Wimble Hill hospital and I gave the oldest patient my bouquet – beautiful yellow roses and Gypsophila. Our friends Brian and Sue drove us down to Bracklesham Bay for our honeymoon, and the reality of married life started to hit home. Bob’s mum enjoyed spoiling him, and after he left the Fleet Air Arm she did all his ironing and generally looked after him. It didn't go down too well when on the second day of our honeymoon, I was required to iron a shirt using a flat iron (I had only ever used an electric one) add to that the fact I wanted to go for a walk but Bob wanted to go to the Club House to watch cricket. I decided to go for a walk on my own but struck up a friendship with a lovely Red Setter and he and I spent many hours walking together while Bob watched sport. Mind you as the years went by Bob would certainly change and always wanted to celebrate Valentines Day and any anniversary. Even when we were really hard up he would buy me a little trinket or a plant for the garden….

Sue and friend

Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)

/To be continued

Previous instalments here, here, here, here, here and here

Guest Post – My Sister Remembers – Part Six

As previously mentioned (here) apple picking season was the highlight of the year at Well Manor Farm, but cricket season came a close second.  Not that I liked cricket, but it was a good place to meet boys, especially when the lads from Lord Wandsworth College were playing. I met a lovely looking lad called Dai at one of the matches. We really liked each other, but as soon as his parents heard we were “walking out together" it came to a very abrupt halt with a letter from him telling me I was unsuitable.  Considering we had only known each other for about a month and had not even held hands, I felt that was a bit harsh!

Another of my school friends had a brother, Colin. He and I started “courting” and it wasn't long before he was visiting me at home once or twice a week. Colin loved playing cards and as this was my mum and dad's favourite leisure pursuit they all got on very well. He would arrive, play cards, eat supper and go home – just what a girl needed. Mum and Dad thought he was the bee's knees and within a very short time were thinking of getting us married off. I felt sure life must have more to offer and tried to let him down gently, but he would not go away. Violet (my friend from next door) and I spent some time plotting about how we could get rid of him. When he next arrived, we ambushed him (I am not proud of what happened next) and covered him in lipstick – all over his face and all over his clean white shirt. The poor lad was really upset about having to go home in that state, but it put an end to his visits. Mum and dad were curious to know what had happened so I told them he was fed up with playing cards!

Sue and Colin

Luckily, Colin's sister remained friends with me, and I started to go to the youth club in Long Sutton and to the Old-Time dance club with her, and her friend Margaret. Margaret’s boyfriend brought another lad with him one week. His name was Robin (known as Bob) Wood. Bob was six years older than me and had just come out of The Fleet Air Arm and was very handsome.    I really liked him, but I think he just saw me as a young girl. One night while we were at the dance club I tried to impress him with my flirtatious chat, but he sternly told me to “Shush” as he was trying to listen to the dance teacher – very firmly put in my place! Margaret and friends asked me to go to the Easter Dance with them in 1958, a couple of months before my sixteenth birthday, it was being held at the Drill Hall in Alton (the hall is no loner there). I cycled to Long Sutton, left my bicycle at my friend's house and carried on to Alton with them in Margaret's boyfriends car.  Bob was there when we arrived with a very smart young lady. I wore my mum’s one and only evening dress, which was years old but fitted me like a dream. It was short, black with a little stiff narrow belt and shot through with gold lurex. Halfway through the evening while on the way back to my chair I slipped and in an effort to save myself grabbed the back of  Bob's  lady friends chair, which resulted in her ending up on the floor, she was not amused, in fact, she was furious. Maybe it was just the nudge Bob needed because he asked me to dance and by the end of the evening we were getting on famously. Margaret's boyfriend offered me a lift home, so it was decided I would leave my bike at Long Sutton and collect it the next day.  In those days the rules were that I had to be in by 9pm, but on this occasion I had permission to be home at 10pm, but it was nearer eleven when we arrived. Dad heard the car pull up saw men in it and came out with his shotgun!!! (I laughed at this bit Sue – I can remember many occasions when dad greeted my boyfriends with a shotgun – it certainly sorted the men from the boys!)

Sue c1957

Dad had calmed down by the next morning and suggested I ask Bob home to tea on the Sunday. He was quite brave and came to tea, (best ham sandwiches and trifle as I remember). I then started going to East Worldham some Sundays to have tea with his family. His Dad, Jack Wood, had been the local blacksmith but was retired due to ill health. His mum, Hartie, worked part-time at the village school, she belonged to the Women’s Institute and was a staunch member of the congregation at St. Mary’s Church. It wasn’t long before Bob and I were meeting up each weekend and on Wednesday evenings. We spent many summer evenings just walking and talking. Later, Bob bought a motorbike, and we started going further from home. We often went into Basingstoke to the pictures and then to a café for poached eggs on toast and coffee, which I hated but as everyone else was drinking it I thought I was very grown up doing the same. At weekends in the summer we would go to Southsea or Hayling Island and delight in passing the queues of cars waiting to cross the bridge on to the Island. We also visited Bobs Aunt Olive and Uncle Bill in Fareham and loved listening to all Uncle Bill’s war stories. We would have a drink in the local pub, and Aunt Olive always served up a lovely old-fashioned tea when we got back. It was a nice gentle courtship with very few problems, and it was only on the odd occasion I would catch myself thinking “am I doing the right thing?”

Sue, Bob and Peggy c1958

I left school as soon as I could and got a job as an auxiliary nurse at Wimble Hill Hospital, Farnham. I would cycle off early in the mornings and head towards Farnham, in the spring the blossom was lovely and the views from the top road are well worth seeing. I loved the work, although it was exhausting and often quite upsetting. The patients all had what we now call senile dementia or Alzheimer's, but in those days it was all classed as “mental illness.”

Wimble Hill Hospital (Sue in centre)

The hospital had a large day room and bathrooms downstairs with two wards upstairs. The patients used to spend all day sitting in the day room with very little to do and very few visitors. One day I decided to play a tune on the old piano that sat in the corner and within minutes most of the patients were singing along. Some of the other nurses were annoyed, but the Sister was pleased and from then on it became a regular part of the day. Life was not easy for patients or staff in those days. I spent many hours helping to lift patients into the bath and into bed. One of the warnings we were given was that we must never enter the night dormitory on our own. But one evening I heard a patient crying and thought I would slip up and make sure she was all right – big mistake. I looked through the glass at the top of the door and as everyone seemed to be in bed I let myself in. Next minute a little old lady had a pair of stockings tight around my neck trying to strangle me, it was a good job I was young and strong and could push her away. I got into all sorts of bother over it and was given the job of cleaning patient denture's night and morning for weeks! I must have been good at my job though because  the Sister on my ward wanted me to do my nurse's training in Basingstoke, but  by now things were pretty serious with Bob and there was no way I was going to move into nurse's accommodation and risk seeing less of him…

 Sue (front row centre) and colleagues Wimble Hill hospital

Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)

Previous instalments here, here, here, here and here

Guest Post - My Sister Remembers - Part Five

Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)

Previous instalments here, here, here and here 

After a while dad found a job At Well Manor Farm in Hampshire. Mum hadn't seen the house and knew nothing at all about the farm. Dad took the job on the understanding that we would be moving into a new (as yet unbuilt) cottage.  We were told we would be staying at a place called No Man's Land while the cottage was built. When we arrived, someone was already living at No Man's Land, it was evening, and we and our furniture had nowhere to go. Dad managed to contact his employer who at that time was staying at a hotel in London prior to moving his wife and family to the farm. There was nothing else for it, the owner and his family ended up staying in London for an extra few months while we moved into The Manor House! I had totally forgotten or shut out memories of living at the Manor, I often had what I thought were dreams about it, but my sister Barbara assures me it actually happened.

  
Sue how could you forget? It was luxury compared to what we were used to - masses of bedrooms and a big old staircase that always reminded me of Gone with the wind. Not to mention the tennis court in the garden and the two giant tortoises a previous owner of the manor left in the grounds!

The back garden No Man's Lane

There used to be apple and pear orchards beyond the fence.

No Man's Land consisted of two semi-detached house on the edge of the village and, as far as mum was concerned, the village was miles from anywhere. Mum was also horrified to find the cottage had no electricity. Us kids found it a bit of a novelty (until it came to doing our homework with the very little light the gas mantels gave out) I remember mum and dad having awful rows at this time and once mum put a saucepan through the TV. It was really a grim time for us kids, especially Barbara, who was quite young and very frightened by it all. Our neighbours were Hampshire "born and bred” and one day when I saw them, they said “Hello Mush” to me – how rude and uncouth I thought, but it seems that was not the case at all, it was quite an affectionate and civil greeting.

Again, I had to go to an all girls’ school, Basingstoke High School for Girls, and it was just like going back to High Wycombe – how I hated it!!

Basingstoke High School for Girls (now Costello Technical College, Crossborough Hill, Basingstoke. 

This time it was even worse as mum and dad couldn't afford to get me the proper uniform, so I had to go in the uniform from Aylesbury until some second-hand clothes could be found for me. The girls there did not like my Buckinghamshire dialect, and I was teased unmercifully. I was allowed to go on one school holiday to the Lake District but there was no money for walking boots, so I slipped and slid around the Lakes (including climbing Hellvelyn) in slip on shoes. I don’t think dad ever got over the fact the Rebecca West didn't change her mind about the pigs. I think he always thought she would ask him back and our fortunes would change, but it was not to be.

Life was very stressful at Well for quite some time. Mum always hated No Man's Land, while dad loved the remoteness of it all.  He would take her to Alton, Farnham or Odiham shopping once a week, but there were no buses unless you walked or cycled to Long Sutton or Odiham, and then you could get to Basingstoke.

The buses were few and far between, and I used to arrive slightly late for assembly in the morning and was usually very late home.  I joined the hockey team, but if I wanted to play a match, I would have to cycle to Odiham in the morning as the bus back to Long Sutton left too early. Dad would never pick me up so it meant a cycle ride of four to five miles each way. Barbara went to school at Odiham and either dad or his boss’s wife would take her. Tony had already left school and worked on the farm with Dad. Long Sutton was about two miles away, and that was our nearest shop so mum did a lot of walking in those days! I imagine she was very lonely as it really was a small village. She and dad used to row all the time and she threatened to take her own life a couple of times.

The new cottages were eventually built and that made life a little easier. The Collins family moved into the one next door, and their daughter Violet became my friend and ally. The cottage was closer to the centre of the village and had electric light and gas for cooking. There was also a lovely big area for a garden and mum and dad set to and laid it all out with flowers and vegetables and for a while life seemed happier.

Dad working in the garden at Well

Well Manor Cottages – the garden was mum's pride and joy.  

The basic problem of no social life for mum was still there though. At the time, we didn't have much sympathy for her as she always seemed to be in black moods; I can just imagine now what it must have been like for her.  She came from a large family of Londoners who were very sociable; she used to go to the ballrooms in London as a teenager and had a good old time.  As far as I can remember from mum’s tales of “the good old days” she was working “in service” for a Harley Street doctor and met dad when he delivered milk to the house. They courted, and she fell in love. Dad was a really nice-looking  young man but, once married to a farm worker, her social life almost came to an end. It was forty years before she went out for dinner in a restaurant. Tony and his wife Eva, Barbara and Terry, and myself and Bob along with all the children, took mum and dad to Lakeside at Frimley for their 40th wedding anniversary. I don’t think dad even wanted to go to that really. 

The one good thing for me about school at Basingstoke was that I met my friend Fran. She lived at Odiham and would bring her pony up to the farm. I also had a friend in the village, Mrs. Biddlecombe, who owned an old grey pony called Nobby. He used to pull a milk cart but had been retired. Anyway, Mrs. B knew I was horse mad and let me borrow him and Fran and I would ride for hours – again I only had a rope halter for Nobby. I used to follow the hunt using just the rope halter and Nobby would fly over the biggest jumps with the best of ‘em. Looking back I expect I was frowned on quite heavily, but I didn’t care. I only gave up following the hunt the day I was in at the kill and the Master of the hunt gave me the blooded paw of the fox – poor fox.

Sue and friends in the garden at Well

I occasionally stayed in Basingstoke after school to go to the pictures with another friend, Megan. Her family were members of The Salvation Army who made me very welcome and were happy to take me home at the end of the evening. It was strange visiting people in a town house, who seemed to have plenty of money and whose table always groaned with food. Megan’s mum and dad were very independent and seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but would come and go as they pleased. Much different from our home, where if mum went out too often on her own dad would not speak to her for days on end.

Peggy

The highlight of the year at Well Manor Farm was apple-picking season. In those days they still had fairly large orchards, although these were all pulled out at a later date, and it was all hands on deck once the apples were ripe.  There were Russets, Cox’s, Discovery, Blenheims and James Grieve, there may have been others whose names I can't remember – really lovely old English apples. We spent days picking the apples and packing them into boxes ready to go off to the wholesalers. I remember Peggy, our Jack Russell Terrier in the packing sheds “ratting”, dad would often have to pull huge rats off her ears or tail. She always seemed to have chunks out of her body, but it couldn't have done her too much damage as she lived to a grand old age. We would get enough apples to store for the winter for our own use, and apples have never tasted the same since those days.

Thanks to the blacksmith who visited the farm, I was able to get a weekend job at Pococks riding stables in Wrecclesham. I would be up before dawn, cycle to Wrecclesham to get the horses ready to go out to the hunt. I would delight in cleaning the tack, and eventually I was allowed to ride in gymkhanas, which was great fun. I had some second-hand jodhpurs and a waterproof riding coat and thought I was the bee’s knees.

High Street, Odiham c1950s.

Later on I got a Saturday job at Dickers Grocers in Odiham. This was the place where I really started to learn what “growing up” was all about.  In Well I had no friends older than me but the girls I worked with at the shop seemed very sophisticated. I had never used make up so the girls showed me how to use it and how to make more of my hair. They chatted about their romances and exciting outings with boys to rock and roll concerts, and it was like entering another world. The best part of the job was getting my pay packet at the end of the week and being able to save for things I wanted. I remember buying my first pair of court shoes and mum and dad being horrified as they had one-inch heels...

Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)

Previous instalments here, here, here and here 

To be continued... 

Guest Post; My Sister Remembers - Part Four

Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)

Previous instalments here, here and here 

Great excitement came to the village of Ibstone in 1953. It was the year of the Coronation of Elizabeth II which in Ibstone meant a sports day, decorated cycle competition and many other events. Tony and I entered the best decorated cycle competition and spent hours putting red, white and blue crepe paper around the spokes in the wheels and everywhere else we could add a bow or flag we did – but we did not win a prize. Most of the village turned up to watch the ceremony on our TV, and I remember mum was in her element making tea, handing round cakes etc.,

In the summer life would be really good (as long as mum and dad were talking), dad would take us all to Shiplake where we would paddle in the river and have picnics. Summer in my memory was always hot and sunny, apart from the thunderstorms, which I hated. I spent many hours in the woods making camps with my friends, swinging from ropes on trees and pretending I was in the circus. I always imagined that one day I would move to the other side of the valley, have a big house and horses, shame dreams get shattered!

    Rene Flitney (left) and Denis Flitney (right) in the river with Tony, Sue, Barbara & friends       

It was hard for mum and dad to keep up with all the demands for uniform, items for cooking classes, material for needlework classes, gym kit and so on at High Wycombe school and I would often be the one that didn't have all I needed. This led to other children being really nasty and the fact that my dad had an old car also meant I got a lot of stick. Homework would take me hours as I was so anxious all the time, so it was with some relief that I learnt my dad was looking for a new job and we would be leaving Ibstone. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews had decided to get rid of the Jersey cows, which were my dad’s pride and joy, and replace them with pigs which, although we had some when we lived at Twigside for our own consumption, he didn't like working with.

Mum was really upset as she had friends at Ibstone and a lovely modern detached bungalow but, dad being dad, did his own thing and got a job on a farm near Thame in Oxfordshire and moved us all in to a much older, inner terrace house. This was a real come down for mum who was most unhappy with it.  I was about twelve when we moved, and I think the farm was at Scotsgrove. Excuse me (Barbara) butting in here, I just want to confirm the farm is at Scotsgrove. Terry and I visited in July 2014.

The house at Scotsgrove in the 50s - could that be mum in the doorway?

The same house in 2014, the only noticeable difference is the size of the hedge!

There was a large carthorse called Captain  who I was allowed to ride and as horses were my great love I started to relax. I took myself off on long rides at the weekend with no tack other than a rope halter. There were lovely bridle ways around Thame so summer was a joy; I used to ride down a track which ran outside the grounds owned by Sir Lawrence Olivier (the English actor) and his beautiful wife Vivian Leigh. I always thought I might see them one day, but no such luck.

In the winter the meadows opposite our house would flood and then freeze so we would all go ice-skating whenever we could. My sister, Barbara, remembers going out in the meadow before the water froze, with a little boat belong to my brother Tony.

I do remember it Sue. I don’t know how old I was, but I hadn’t started school – so not very old. Tony had a sailing yacht, and I thought it would be fun to float it on the flood waters. I crossed a road in front of the house and then walked a fair way down a track to the fields. It wasn't long before the water was over the top of my wellies but it didn’t deter me.  I must have been playing in the water for at least a couple of hours when I heard shouting and looking up, saw mum, dad and several other people heading towards me through the floods. It’s probably one of the only times I ever saw dad looking really cross!  By the time they found me, half the people in the village (including the local bobby) were out searching. I remember dad scooping me up onto his shoulders and carrying me back home through the floods – quite an adventure but one I didn't repeat!

By this time, life was a little better for mum as Thame was not far away and there were more shops, and she could get out easily by catching a bus at the stop opposite the house. I went to Aylesbury Grammar School and found it was much nicer going to a mixed school. My dad had been a prefect there in his school days and some of the older teachers remembered him, so I was made to feel very welcome and put into his old “house". Sport became my first love. I was in the school hurdles team and did quite well. I also sang in the school choir and because I was more relaxed, my academic work started to improve.

Thame High Street and Town Hall, 1957

My Auntie Babs and Uncle Fred lived in Aylesbury. They were competition ballroom dancers before retirement and my Auntie was also a pianist. They said I could have dance or piano lessons and I choose the piano. I used to go to them after school one day a week and I think I loved the tea more than the lessons. My aunt always served up small cucumber sandwiches and little home-made cakes on beautiful china and I was very impressed. I had a piano at home (it had been left me by a different aunt when we lived at Ibstone) so I thought it would be lovely to be able to use it properly. Of course, I could not practice as much as I should because living in a terraced house it upset all the neighbours!

Unfortunately my time at Aylesbury School didn't last long as within a year my dad had fallen out with his employer and we were on the move again. I think he had numerous interviews, but the one we children remember best was one for a job on the Isle of Wight. The journey across was awful with a really bad storm; I remember sitting up on the deck where I felt safest and chatting to a farmer who was taking sheep over to the island. When we got there we went in dad's car to what seemed the centre of the island to this most beautiful farm. The farmer and his family seemed very nice and friendly. They had dogs, horses, a tennis court and swimming pool – all the things that were quite impressive to us youngsters. The house that went with the job was a really large very old farmhouse and mum hated it – said that it reminded her of Twigside, and she was not going back to “the dark ages”. We were very disappointed, as I think was dad. On the way back to the ferry we stopped and picked some lovely white flowers – well we had never seen wild garlic before - the car smelt awful for days!!

Sue and Barbara on The Isle of Wight 

To be continued….