Aunt Bertha . . . Continued

Back at Sandisplatt . . .
JH was known to occasionally venture, on her own, through the door at the far end of the room [in which she played with the coffee grinder], or JH ventured along the small right angled corridor, opposite one end of the kitchen range, which led into the dining room, through which the main hall and majestic staircase could be marvelled at! JH and her sister met Mrs Parker more than once. Mrs Parker occasionally came to Auntie Bertha’s ‘domain’ – usually the sitting room when the Hipsey Family were visiting. JH liked to watch the oblong box above the door of the sitting room - in which little flags wobbled when a bell was rung to summon the below-stairs staff: but this did not happen when Mrs Parker came to the sitting room herself. As far as JH can recall, Mrs Parker addressed JH’s Mother as ‘Lilian’, which was my mother’s second name – or perhaps it was ‘Grace’ – her first name {Mummy was called Florence when she worked for the Cameron Family, Mummy’s third name}; JH’s Mother addressed Mrs Parker as ‘Madam’, as did Auntie Bertha – was Auntie Bertha called ‘Cook’ or ‘Bertha’ or . . .? Mrs Parker had a small ear-trumpet attached to a hearing aid which JH could not help noticing next to Mrs Parker’s immaculate coiffure (not that JH would have known the meaning of that word then) which was protected in a hairnet at the back of her head.

Afternoon Tea was the ‘Special Event’ at Sandisplatt. JH does not remember eating the savouries – but, no doubt, there were ‘afternoon-tea’ sandwiches. But . . . there was jelly and blancmange, and cakes and more cakes and more . . .. JH supposes that this feast was taken about 3 o’clock of an afternoon. Auntie Bertha went upstairs for about half an hour – or however long it took – to do whatever JH imagined: perhaps a brief lay-down, or to freshen up (words not used then no doubt). In any event, games were played such as snakes and ladders, happy families, snap, and – as JH got older – rummy, especially if Daddy was there. {AE}Egg Sandwiches balloons Sticky Tarte Cosy Sometimes took friend as well played hide + seek with Auntie Bertha lots of laughter Before we departed Auntie Bertha brought out a plate of cakes for JH and her sister (and the grown-ups) to eat a piece – presumably to sustain them on the walk home; perhaps there was a glass of orange juice to go with the cake. On one occasion JH had set her heart on having a piece of one particular cake which she had thought was so delicious; so JH asked for a piece – instead of what was offered: Auntie Bertha did demure but fetched the cake which JH had requested. JH knew full well that this was bad behaviour. Her bad behaviour was endorsed by Mrs Hipsey who leant on Daddy’s arm, as we walked away from Sandisplatt, and Mrs Hipsey said to Mr Hipsey in a loud voice that JH would have to ‘learn’ not to ask for cake which had not been offered – or words to that effect. JH regrets being aware that this method of reprimand occurred more than once and, even in her teenage years JH felt that the reprimand could be unjust, insomuch that JH - when asked what was supposedly a reasonable question - by a host/hostess or some other personage - to which question JH was obviously expected to answer according to her Mother’s wishes:- JH did not. In other words, JH became even more inept in the art of social niceties.

Auntie Bertha visited her Goddaughter at 8 Waltham Road. Presumably she walked from Sandisplatt, but now of course there is a bus service down Cannon Lane to service the housing estate built on farmland behind the row of houses in Waltham Road. In the 1940s there was a meadow full of mountain ranges and lakes to explore behind the row of houses. JH does not remember the tall trees . . . but delighted in exploring the mounds of earth encircling the pools of water in the holes left, after the boles had been blown up. The building of a housing estate on this farmland was abandoned just before the War started . . . so JH was at glorious liberty to sit and watch the water skaters with amazement. Eventually the ground was levelled out. Sadly, JH’s last recollection of climbing over our garden’s back fence is very distressing, even now: JH had climbed over the fence, and was followed by big sister; a young boy was also there with his small dog; but JH was still small; and JH was wearing her school navy gabardine mac; and . . . the dog grabbed the bottom of my mac. My sister was very apprehensive about our mother’s forthcoming anger; we went in doors and met our mother on the doorstep; Mummy was so distraught about the tear - that she grasped a tomato cane which Daddy had left in the hall; Ann endeavoured to intervene and she got hit on the leg with the cane.

In view of her own disrupted childhood, Mrs Hipsey was committed to giving her two daughters the most secure, loving childhood . . . but this absolute commitment was almost thwarted by the arrival of War. But I say ‘almost’. As Mummy always used to say – minor irritations can be constantly . . . irritating . . . but major upsets can be confronted ‘there and then’ hopefully. Mummy told her youngest daughter about remembrances which – when re-lived – caused distress in the remembering.

Before Ann got the cane instead of JH, Ann was slapped round the legs as she came down stairs . . . because she had ‘answered Mummy back’. Ann was coming down the stairs in front of one of the WAAF girls, from the aerodrome, whom Mummy was billeting: Mummy refused to go into an armaments factory so that her children, of necessity, would be taken to a nursery.[1] So perhaps the building of White Waltham Aerodrome opposite our house precluded Mummy’s conscription into the factories, to replace the men all away at war - as we had a spare bedroom for accommodating a WAAF. But what distressed my mother so much – about this slap on the legs – was that it was Ann’s birthday, and the house was full of 5 year olds, and little sister was stood at the bottom of the stairs in such bewilderment that she could not even cry. There were two other major regrets that Mummy told her youngest daughter about. The first was when Ann had whooping cough: my mother did not realise that – even though her eldest daughter had been immunised, Ann could still develop symptoms and signs of the disease without these being followed, quite so ‘dramatically’ by the whoop. JH does not remember her sister being so ill.

[1] In 2015 JH was informed by Brian Fifield Shayler Chairman of Tavistock Subscription Library - who had been in the Armed Forces {But not in the War as he is too young!} - that, in actual fact, Mummy would NOT have been expected to go into a Munitions Factory as she had two children under school age.