01/06/2023
MY LIFE MY STORIES MY FAMILY.
Chapter 1
My Parents and the Early years
My Mum, Mary Theresa Calder (nee Owen), was born in Chestnut Avenue Kenilworth and my Dad, William Calder (Bill) was born in Govern Hill in Glasgow, Dads family moved down to Leamington Spa in search of work just after the War, Mum was a keen Athlete and worked in a Kenilworth Comb factory called Clarke and Clewlies, she told us many stories of her Childhood eg hiding under the stairs during the German bombing raids over Coventry when a few stray bombs would hit Kenilworth, and of the time she actually froze while crossing a field when a bull charged at her, Dave her brother had to run back and tap her shoulder to bring her round, they then ran like Olympic sprinters and cleared a six foot hedge, I can see why she was a good athlete now lol, but a very brave young lady in her early childhood.
Dad was a born Soldier, at 15 years of age he became a mascot to the Czech Army that were based in Leamington as he was a constant visitor to Upper Newbold terrace where they parked all the armoured cars and Tanks, a few years later he joined the Scottish Regiment Princess Louisa's 1st Battalion Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders, He served his Country in North Korea, where he was wounded after a mortar shell hit his Vickers machine gun post, all his comrades were killed outright and Dad had sever shrapnel wounds to his legs, the North Koreans rushed his position and looted his dead Comrades, he had to play dead himself while they looted him too, eventually the Koreans were pushed back and Dad was found barely alive and medevacked out, he must have been absolutely terrified as he was just a young lad of 19.
Mum used to travel from Kenilworth to Leamington on her push bike every weekend to go to the local Cinemas and Dances and they eventually met in a local Leamington Cinema called the Clifton, Mum asked Dad for a light for her Cigarette and, as they
say, the rest is History, they used to frequent a Leamington Pub on the corner of High street and George street, called, appropriately enough "The George" we, as children used to sit in the back yard of the pub every Friday, after our long trek from Buckley road Lillington to Perkses Grocery store on Bath Street to get our weekly shop, then a short walk along High street to the Pub, we were given a glass bottle of pop with a straw and a bag of Smiths Crisps ,( the old style bag with a small blue bag of salt inside } to keep us occupied, the worst part of our day out was the long trek home up mount Campion ( The Campion Hills ), poor Mum, pregnant with Richard, pushing a Silver cross pram with Chris inside nice and snug and all of the weeks shopping crammed onto the rack underneath, with four whinging kids in tow begging to get in the pram as their legs were aching, I don't think any Woman today could endure that energy sapping journey every week, especially while pregnant, no Taxi's or Busses, as Mum needed the Pram for Chris and it was to expensive anyway, harsh but beautiful memories.
Dad used to live just across the road at 72 George street with his parents before they were married.
Mum and Dad eventually Married and moved into a House in Hampton street at the bottom of the Campion Hills, Dad told me in later years that it was the best place he ever lived, a typical
Pre-War house with an outdoor toilet, and just a tin bath for bathing in by a roaring coal fire.
A few years later they moved into a house on Buckley Road Lillington and this is where My story begins.
I was born Peter Wesley Calder, 0n the 21st of November 1956, in the Warnford Hospital Leamington Spa Warwickshire, weighing 8 pounds, I was the 5th born after my older siblings Marilyn Jimmy Virginia and Angela, with my younger brother Chris being the baby at that time, eventually the family extended to nine in all with my younger siblings Richard, Maria and Tracy coming in later years, yes we were a large family, but Mum was a Catholic and Dad must have loved kids (or something) lol, but in those days, late 50s early 60s, Families in Britain were large as there was no contraception, just back street abortions which were highly dangerous as they were performed by unqualified back street quacks, women that got pregnant out of wedlock back then were often institutionalised, or their babies taken into care, its only recently ( 2023 ) that they have received an apology from Government for the total injustice meted out to them in the sixties.
One of my earliest and saddest Childhood memories was the tragic loss of my elder Sister Marilyn to Hepatitis, an illness then, that
was untreatable, we lived in Buckley Road in Lillington at the time, Marilyn was just Seven years old, Jim was six, Ginny five,
Ange four, myself three, Chris two, and my Mum was carrying my youngest brother Richard, the tragic loss of Marilyn absolutely destroyed my poor Mum and made her very ill, she was bed ridden for six weeks with sever Bronchitis and Asthma which bought on sever depression, after what had happened to her beautiful Daughter, her first born, Mum just couldn't live in the house any longer, the memories were just too painful for her, so a move to a house in Leamington was the next step.
Dad was a massive collector of lead toy soldiers and we as kids loved them too, i,ll never forget one night lying in my bed in a dark
room peering through the light filled doorway watching Dad laying out his soldiers on mums dressing table, I don't know why, but when Dad had finished and crept silently down the stairs, I decided to make a million trips across the landing to accost them, when I woke up the next morning I was lying on my pillow, as the bed was full of broken and twisted lead figures, my god did I get an ear bending for that, but from that day onwards Dad kept his new collection of soldiers Wagons and cannons in the attic away from sticky little fingers lol.
But anyway the day finally came for the move and Mum had arranged a couple of lads to help with the packing, as Dad was busy working at Royal Mail on overtime, because we needed his wage to live, (don't forget that in the early 60s Men were generally the breadwinners ladies bought up the kids and were Housewives) but we all mucked in and helped anyway, then unbeknown to Mum, the two lads she bought in to help, climbed into the attic to bring down the boxes, but instead of carefully passing them down, they just dropped them onto the landing below, completely decimating Dads second collection of toy soldiers, so sad because they would now be worth a fortune today as they were all original Hollow cast figures manufactured by William Britains, but don't worry there is better news on Dads collection later on.
I,ll never forget our excitement when we finally arrived at our new house at 191 Tachbrook road, it seemed the ideal place for our family with an extra bedroom and with a bus stop just twenty yards from our front door, so no more sharing rooms or long hikes on Fridays down town to get shopping, just a quick Bus ride there and back literally to our front door step, for me, it was the best place I ever lived.
We had massive front and rear Gardens and across the road from our house in Tachbrook road ( between The Courier press and Henry Griffiths factories, ( both long since demolished ) was a mass of waste ground that lead through to the Queensway estate, this Waste ground eventually became our playground, we just called it the "Courier", at the entrance used to stand an old Grey concrete Air raid shelter, which to our young minds was a fortress to be defended during our many games of Germans and English, or Cowboys and Indians, we used to go out to play around 9am most weekends, playing on the hill that was at the centre of the waste ground, we used to make Dens out of fallen tree branches and old pallets or junk that had been dumped there, we ate Elderberries from the abundance of Elder bushes and felt as sick as a dog after eating to many, we climbed the tree's and made tree houses and had numerous games of football using our coats for the goals, the place was an oasis for adventure and fun, we wouldn't head home until we heard our Mums calling us in for our tea just before, what was known back then as "Lighting up time" when the street lamps came on around 4 or 5pm during the winter months, then the fun and games really began, as we lived just a few hundred yards away from one of the biggest Employers in Leamington, "Lockheed", when we heard the factory ho**er sound, we ran like shots from a gun to attempt the crossing of Tachbrook road, it was like a stampede of workers, in cars on bikes and on foot all coming out at 5 oclock, it was just gridlock for at least an hour as there were absolutely thousands of people wanting to get home after their hard days graft, so crossing that road at that time was almost impossible.
I,ll never forget the day that my brother Chris and I were at our living room window watching the stampede, when our little old ginger mongrel dog "Bimbo" appeared across the road, he had decided to sneak out and go for his daily ablutions on the "Courier" waste ground, it was absolute chaos on the road and pavements, we really feared for his safety, but to our absolute amazement he just strolled up to the kerb, sat down and within minutes, the traffic both ways just stopped and waited for him to cross, he was a really old little thing and walked with a limp but was allowed to cross the road by two very kind drivers, I only wish they could have been as generous to us when we needed to cross lol.
We really loved our new house, but when we were eventually enrolled into " Bath Place school ", our young lives were once again blighted, as, unbeknown to us at that time, a lot of children at the school lived just around the corner from us in a really rough place called Windmill road, it was, at that time in the early to mid 60s, the roughest area in Leamington, it had some real hard nut families that would put the fear of God into most adults, let alone young recently bereaved Children.
Most of these kids were just feral, they would make our young lives a misery for years, we couldn't walk out of the door without bumping into someone that wanted to abuse us mentally or physically.
I remember on one occasion playing in our back garden, when a gang of about fifteen of them appeared around the side entrance to our garden, ( in those days our gardens were divided by 6 foot wire mesh fencing,) when suddenly out of nowhere we were showered by a hail of jagged stones, there were only four of us in the Garden at the time, so as kids do and not wanting to be intimidated by the wild bunch, we decided to return fire, it was an amazing battle that lasted for what seemed hours, until alas, I caught one smack on my forehead, I ran up to the house dodging the flack and screaming like a wounded Banchee, blood gushing from my war wound, I carry the scar to this day lol, it was our baptism of fire, a really warm welcome to the hell that would be the scourge of our young lives for the next few years.
The school we all attended " Bath Place C of E " was a beautiful old Victorian building with a bell tower spire and arched oak doors, it looked like something from "Tom Browns School days", it was heated with four feet high old fashioned log burners that emitted a heart warming amber glow of heat during the harsh Winters of the early to late sixties, it had so much Charm and Character, when the hand bell was rung in the morning we all had to line up in class rows in the playground, we had to put our right arm out onto the person to your right and the Head would shout," With a hand slap, Arms down," it had to be a perfect slap in unison, or we would have to do it over and again until he was satisfied, something like an Army doing a right dress drill lol.
Dinner times were like a scene from "Oliver twist", with long trestle tables at the top of the dining hall and dinner ladies serving the Queues of kids from the brushed steal trays and pots, it really was quite regimented.
Its just so sad that we had a real Victorian disciplinarian Head and Deputy Head, they were a perfect fit for the Victorian style school, Mr Lewis, and Mrs Morecraft were in their late fifties and always looked old and wrinkled but you never messed with these people, Lewis used to wear the old style black cape and used take great pleasure in wielding his cane, a three feet long Bamboo cane with a metal tip, if you played up he would give you six of the best without batting an eyelid, Morecraft was a scary person, she could turn you into a quivering wreck with just one blast of her tongue, but the worst and most toxic teacher we ever had the misfortune of meeting was, the young medusa, miss Boilow, ( never could spell her name so ive spelt it how you say it as it was a French name) she was the teacher from Hell and wouldn't have looked out of place stirring a boiling cauldron and concocting spells, she took an instant disliking to our family.
She never knew our history, or the subconscious grief we were all suffering, but even if she did she wouldn't have cared, she knew we were poor, as we were awarded Free school meals which in those days was blatantly advertised, as the Free meals children had a separate table in the dining hall, also we never came to school dressed as well as her own kids, I still have nightmares about that woman and especially her spoilt brat children, that emulated the bullying that she bestowed upon us.
On one occasion, she took it on herself to come into our classroom and pull my Sister Ange and I behind the blackboard, ( as in those days the blackboard was on an easel at the front of the class and all the desks were in rows ) then took great pleasure in telling us that we were going to be taken into care, because she had heard that we never used to have breakfast, I was about five and Ange six, it scared the living daylights out of us.
On another occasion, I was walking around the ice covered playground on my own, ( as back then, I really was a very shy young boy ), absolutely freezing, when I noticed her whispering to her son "Jeremy" who was a few years older than me, he then came over to me and stamped his full weight on my toes with the heal of his foot and accused me of stealing his sister "Jenifer's" necklace, a blatant lie, but seeing this, gave his Mother great pleasure to hear me crying in pain as she walked inside smirking. When I got home that evening I had a gash in my swollen toes and congealed blood in my socks, that Woman if in deed you could call her a woman, was just pure Evil.
The Winter of 63 was so cold that Mum used to send us to school with socks on our hands to keep them warm as there was no way on Earth she could possibly afford gloves for us all , as Mum used to say, quite often, " your Dad works for the Post Office, he doesn't pi**in own it " lol, bless her, the snow was literally three foot deep and piled up at the side of the roads, the Icicles were everywhere hanging off ill maintained guttering and windowsills, it really was a magical sight for kids, but my God was it cold in the early hours of the morning.
Mum used to light a Coal fire every day to warm the house as there was no such thing as central heating back then, the fireplace had a back boiler that heated the water and Mum used to burn our old shoes in the fire place in our bedroom when we went to bed, but once the fire went out in the early hours, the house would just freeze, Mum couldn't afford pyjamas for us all so the boys went to bed in Dads old Shirts and the girls in Mums old Nighties, we only had one sheet and one woollen blanket and an over blanket per bed and we used to shiver like a wreck, until we felt, in that beautiful state of semi consciousness in the early hours of the morning, the warmth as Mum Draped Dads old coats over our beds.
I,ll never forget those days of waking up with freezing cold knees, Ice formed on the inside of our windows from the condensation and the water in the toilet bowl frozen too, we used to jump out of bed on school days and run down the stairs and all sit huddled around a two bar Electric fire, as Mum couldn't light the fire that early as Coal cost money and took an age before you got any heat from it, we used to have to wash in hot water from the kettle before getting dressed for school, then, once ready used to walk to school in the freezing cold snow and ice but always had great fun and games on the way there.
We used to call in at a Grocery shop on Tachbrook street called "Oxenbolds" to ask if they had any specked fruit ( Bruised or mis-shaped fruit ) which they gave to all the local kids gladly, as being kind to the kids bought custom from their parents.
The thing that never ceases to amaze me is that we never suffered from colds or flue, probably because of all the Specked fruit we ate lol, but we were tough hardened and resilient young kids back then, I could never see our children today living through those days.
I did say, that we always had fun on the way to school. but I must make two exceptions, the first concerning my little brother Chris, half way to school there used to be an old building site that had been cleared in Priory street by the old Gas works, there was always a massive puddle of water in the centre, my Brother Jim and I used to mess about throwing stones into it and splashing around when suddenly Jim, decided to haul a full house brick into the air over his head to make a big splash, but unbeknown to Jim, our little six year old brother Chris had inadvertently walked directly into its downward trajectory, the brick crashed square onto his head, but unlike any other child I ever knew, he never cried or made a fuss, Jim told him to walk back home to get his blood soaked head patched up, Chris really was a tough little cookie, he rarely cried at anything, I cant remember how many stitches he had in the wound, but it was a really traumatic incident to witness.
The second traumatic event featured yours truly, again we were all on our way to school when we decided to stop off at the local Canal, by the Tachbrook road bridge, it was a small short cut to school, I had taken one of Jim's Dinky toy cars from his beloved collection, ( it was a FAB1 Lady Penelope car ) and it was his favourite, Chris and I were pushing our toy cars on the towpath under the bridge, then for some reason or other my car fell into the water and I panicked, I stupidly leaned forward on my knees, lost my balance and followed the car into the canal, none of us could swim at the time so it really was a desperate situation, I remember it as clear as day, I was splashing around for quite a while and I heard one of my sisters, Ange or Virginia shout at Chris to fetch a stick to pull me out and I saw him come back with a stick about a foot long bless him, by this time my energy had waned and I started to give up the fight, it was then that I remember sinking to the bottom, I lay on the bottom for a while saying to myself that this was all a dream and to go back to sleep, ( this was the crucial stage between life and death ) but then, as my hands dropped to the bottom and I felt the cold slimy silt between my fingers, it was at this point that something told me that this was real, it made me kick and choke, I somehow found the strength to push myself off the bottom and reach for the surface, it was then that I found the swimming stroke that literally saved my life and I "Doggy Paddled" to the towpath wall where my sobbing but relieved Sisters pulled me out.
To this day, nearly sixty years later, I've always believed that it was divine intervention that saved me, as Mum had lost Marilyn at seven too and Marilyn, my Guardian Angel, wasn't going to put my Mum through that grief again.
We've had our share of trials and tribulations, good times and bad, but weve also had some of the most beautiful times of our childhood in Tachbrook road, especially our Christmas times.
A few weeks before every Christmas Mum used to borrow the Freemans or Brian Mores catalogue from my favourite, "Aunt Ange" who lived in Roseland Road Kenilworth, we used to take it in turns sitting on the sofa looking through the back of the book where the Children's Christmas toys were, trying to choose our presents,
the house was always decorated with typical 60s coloured twisted paper decorations and paper honeycomb bells and lanterns on the ceiling and we used to have a beautiful five ft false Christmas tree decorated with the vintage style, delicate glass baubles and very thin tinsel and a fairy adorned the top, the TV was on in the corner of the room showing Christmas cartoons, and the beautiful amber glow of the spitting coal fire added to the warmth we all felt, but what always topped it off, was the beautiful aroma of Mums cakes baking in the oven, we were in seventh heaven as Mum was quite an established baker, she always made cup cakes dressed with little edible silver balls and Glace cherries, lemon Kurd and strawberry jam tarts and trays of mince pies, but her crowning glory was her Christmas Cake, she had relatives and friends that used to pay her to make them for their families.
I can still hear Mum shouting from the kitchen while baking her cakes, "you've got 3 pounds each and don't go over", but inevitably the toys we all wanted were more expensive, ( I always dreamed of having a Johnny seven OMA machine gun but at £4 19s 11d was way of my price range ) but we always managed to convince Mum to go just a little bit over the three pounds allocated lol.
One year, Mum had ordered all of our Christmas presents and they had arrived at my Aunt Ange,s house in Kenilworth as she didn't want us to see them and there was very little room to hide them at our house in Leamington, the problem Mum had, was collecting them all, as, with five kids there were quite a lot of boxes, unfortunately my lovely Uncle Tonie's car ( Ford Consul } was being repaired, so he couldn't deliver them, so Mum decided to send my older brother Jim and myself over to Kenilworth, with the old faithful Silver cross pram to collect them, I was just seven at the time and Jim was ten, I had no idea of the marathon walk that we were about to encounter, yes I had been to Kenilworth before many times, but that was always on the 517 Bus, the Steam train or by car and it never seemed that far away.
So off we went, Jim, myself and our trusty old Pram, it was early afternoon around 12.30 pm, when we set off on our journey, we walked for what seemed to be an eternity and finally arrived at Aunt Ange,s house around three o'clock, all I could think of was the long Journey back, I was absolutely exhausted, Jim stopped off at a little shop on the corner of Roseland road and Mortimer road to buy a bar of chocolate from the chocolate machine outside, he put his sixpence in, got the chocolate bar and then we sat for five minutes to eat it, we then walked to Aunt Ange,s house, where she greeted us with open arms, bought us in and gave us both a glass of fizzy pop and a couple of biscuits, then she started to load the pram, it was piled high with boxes and tied down securely, we said our goodbyes and started out on our mega mission home, it must have been about 3.45pm, I was starting to get really tired, but Jim, like the trooper he was just kept soldiering on.
After about an hour of walking, we arrived at the old Leamington Rugby club on Kenilworth road, this is where it got really naughty, as Jim decided that he wanted to have a peep at all of our presents, so one by one Jim opened every box, he even opened my present for that year which was a little red Film projector with cartoon slides, I cant put all the blame on Jim, as I was as eager to see it as he was to show it to me.
So after spending around two hours indulging ourselves, the night had drawn in and we resumed our trek home, we finally arrived back home at seven o'clock in the evening and Mum gave us both big hugs and kisses for making her life easier by going on such a mammoth journey, but as Mum started to off load the pram she noticed that all of the boxes had been opened, Jim and I hadn't realised that Mum and Aunt Ange the day before, had been talking on the phone and Mum was told that all the boxes were still sealed, oh dear, we had more than a few strips taken out of us that night lol.
Every year on Christmas Eve, Mum and Dad would have a Party, as it was their Anniversary, they always invited Mums relations and a lot of Dads friends from the Post Office, the house was full of people eating drinking and having a great time, we as kids, were allowed to stay up for a few hours to savour the atmosphere, it was a wonderful experience, as we would watch them slowly getting a bit merry and telling some very amusing stories, but after a while Mum would say those dreaded words, " Come on Kids, its time for bed." but before we went, we would have to sing a few Carols to the, lets just say, Happy Gathering, I never used to mind though, because once we had finished serenading them, and the drunken applause had died down, there would always be one kind person that would shout for a whip round, us kids used to go to bed with our hands full of 1 and 2 shilling pieces { 5 and 10ps now ) from the now half cut audience that would be only to glad to shed the loose change from their bulging pockets lol, I loved Christmas Eve, we were always loaded lol.
We used to love going to bed, even though the noise and laughter from downstairs was deafening, but it was never the noise that kept us awake, it was the sheer excitement of what was to come the following day.
Like most people, Christmas day was the highlight of our year, we never had masses of presents, in fact some of our presents were donations from the local Children in care homes, we had a social worker Mr Mooney, that visited a few times during the year to help Mum cope, as Dad was on a low wage and Mum was bringing up quite a large family, we also received social grants for school clothes and local Jumble sales were a God send for us, but one thing you could absolutely guarantee from myself and the rest of my family, we were always grateful for whatever we received and never ever turned our noses up at anything.
I distinctly remember our Christmas morning routine, waking up at about 5 in the morning and asking Mum if we could go to the toilet, (as our our toilet was down stairs and you had to go through the living room to access it), but Mum read us like book and told us to get back into bed, we just wanted a quick glimpse of our presents lol, but as we had already Woken Mum up, it wasn't long before she rose to find us all at the top of the stairs, waiting with baited breath and overwhelming excitement to see what Father Christmas had left for us, Dad bless him, like most men at the time, would have a lie in, sleeping off his hangover from Christmas Eve lol.
Well that was it, Mum would tell us all to wait just a few more minutes until she had been down the stairs to light the coal fire, make herself and Dad a cup of tea and prepare the room for five excited kids, then at last the call came, "Hes been" Mum shouted, you just cant imagine the sound of five super charged kids thumping down those stairs, we opened the living room door to find an absolutely magical Toyland, five big piles of presents laid out amongst the furniture and on the floor, in a pristine and beautifully decorated house, Mum would direct us to our stash of pressies and we would all be in complete silence, all you could hear was the rustling and tearing of Christmas paper and the odd WOW !!! we were never ever disappointed, our Christmas stockings were always left hanging on the mantle peace until the fire caught, only then would we take them down and empty the contents of mixed sweets nuts and fruit with a few stocking filler toys.
After the opening we would have a clean up and then just play happily for hours, while Mum made Dad his breakfast and prepared the Christmas dinner, eventually Dad would appear looking a bit worse for ware but there was no respite for him, he had no choice but to endure the constant micro chats and play from his over excited children, absolutely wonderful times.
This was one day of the year that we would all sit at the dinner table together in the kitchen for our Christmas dinner, the sights sounds and fun we had were second to none and we would all toast our absent family and friends, but once dinner was done and the kitchen chores were complete, Mum and Dad would relax in front of the glowing coal fire, just napping in their fireside chairs watching Christmas programs on our Black and White TV, (Colour TV was a few years away back then ) with a room full of happy and contented children playing gleefully with our new toys.
I know and fully understand that this is an experience that most families have at Christmas time, but just to reminisce those Halcyon days fills me with heart warming nostalgia.
So, that was Christmas day over, but we still had another fantastic day to look forward to, yes Boxing day.
The day started really early, for us kids anyway, about 6.30 in the morning, as it was going to be a very long day, I'll never forget waking up with a bed full of toys that we had been playing with before we went to sleep the night before, you must understand that as young kids we hardly ever had new toys through the year as Mum and Dad just couldn't afford them, as I remember we used to have a treat mid year, when Mum used to buy a massive cardboard box of used and broken toys from my Aunt Ange for a fiver, they were our Cousins old toys, so any brand new toys at Christmas or Birthdays were treated like treasure and we would often play with them in our beds and fall asleep with them. So, up we all got and Mum would bath us all, then dress us in our Sunday best clothes ready for { in the early days, a steam train journey to Kenilworth station, but later by Bus ) a Double decker Bus ride on the 517 to my Grans house in Chestnut Avenue Kenilworth, we used to take our favourite toy but only one each, then trundle off to Leamington Bus station in Station Approach, it was only Mum with Rich in the pushchair and us kids, as Dad was always at work on nights at the Post office that evening, as postmen only ever had Christmas day and Boxing day off.
We used to love the Bus ride, as we rarely got to travel that far as kids, so it was quite an adventure, we would always scramble up stairs to the front seats to enjoy the countryside views, especially on snowy days as they always seemed to be back then.
When we arrived at our stop, St Johns Church, we would all walk up to Grans house excited about seeing our Cousins, Steve, Andrew, and Martin, ( Paul, like my younger Brother Richard, were the babies at the time), as we were quite close but didn't see much of each other throughout the year.
We always loved going to Grans house even though we, as Dads Children, we were definitely not her favourites, that honour was bestowed upon Steve Andy Martin and Paul, as there was a lot of friction between Mum and Dads families, but that's another story, just so sad that we were caught in the middle. But anyway, Gran always made an effort to welcome us and always gave us a wonderful day.
As soon as that front door opened, we were off and away with our Cousins, its ironic because Myself and Steve, Chris and Andy, and Martin and Richard were all around the same ages so we got on a treat, we would all shoot off upstairs into one of Grans Bedrooms and have a wail of a time telling stories of what we had been up to through the year, telling silly jokes, comparing Christmas presents and playing games together, while Mum and the girls would be entertained down stairs with Gran and Aunt Ange.
On one occasion we all decided to take a Trek up to the Top Park on Abbey fields while the Ladies were helping Gran prepare the dinner, it had been snowing and the ice had formed on what Kenilworth people called, "Joes Overflow" (it was the flood water from the stream that flowed through the middle of Abbey fields, a bit like Welshes meadow in Leamington), we were all tentatively inching forward on the ice to see how far we could get before it cracked, then, me being me, decided to give Chris a nudge forward, and yes, you've guessed it, poor Chris went straight through the thin ice, luckily for me it was close to the edge or the situation could have been serious, Chris was absolutely dripping from head to toe and had to walk home absolutely freezing cold.
I was absolutely dreading getting back to Grans house as I knew what I was in for. When we finally got back I stayed out on the front garden waiting for the backlash,
and it wasn't long coming, the air was blue and I knew I had to run away lol, I stayed away for about an hour on my own, with only my conscience for company, I was absolutely freezing and totally guilt ridden, so had a small taste of what poor Chris had been through.
I finally plucked up the courage to go home and face the music, but luckily for me my Uncle Ron and his wife Elizabeth had appeared at Grans door and while they were all greeting each other and exchanging presents, I craftily slipped past them all and joined the lads up stairs where Chris, all thawed out and wearing some of Andy's old clothes, were all happily playing together, I had dodged a bullet that morning.
We finally got the call from Gran and all went down for dinner, we had to have two sittings as there were to many of us to seat at the table, so us kids were served first, I absolutely loved Grans cooking almost as much as Mums.
After the grown ups had finished their dinner and everything was cleared away, we would all play games, Gran always did a lucky dip barrel for us kids and pass the parcel so we all ended up with a small toy to take home, Ginny and Steve used to sing Carols in Latin which really added to the warmth and feel of the occasion, we had hours of innocent fun. But one of the best sights I ever saw, even to this day, was the Christmas tea, it was all laid out beautifully and all the kids would sit at the table in party hats, it really was a sight to see, Gran knew how to do a Christmas spread, everything from individual trifles cakes and biscuits to chocolate sweets and rabbit shaped jelly, just the sheer abundance of food and the colour was spectacular, needless to say that we all had very full bellies after that.
As the evening drew in and the adults had drunk a few ginger wines and beers, my Uncle Dave would sit at Grans upright piano and play some singalong tunes, our absolute favourite used to be the laughing policeman, we had never laughed so much in our lives listening to a drunken bunch of adults standing around a Piano singing that song, it was the perfect end to our Christmas, we were really lucky and were able to stay later because our Uncle Tony was never aloud to drink, I think Aunt Ange would allow him one glass of sherry as he was driving and I think my Beautiful Aunt Ange would know that Mum would ask for a lift home and he would never refuse, bless him.
