Aunt Bertha . . . Continued

When I was very young . . .
I remember ‘learning’ the difference between ‘mine’ and ‘yours’. My sister had dropped a thruppenny bit on the floor, ie, the coin worth 3d, and which was made of dull yellow metal which got darker with age, and which had 12 mini ‘sides’ round its edge, ie, a dodecagon. JH was on all fours on the floor – although I could walk by then, this was well before I was school age . . . I picked up the thruppenny bit . . . and kept it. I can remember Ann running to Mummy complaining ‘it’s not fair!’ I cannot remember Mummy ‘taking sides’. I cannot remember the sequel. But I am sure my memory is real.

Before that . . .
I remember the blackout. I remember Mummy singing the Lord’s Prayer to my sister and I, before we went to sleep . . . I think this preceded a particular Day . . . like Christmas Day, when we woke up to find Father Christmas had been and delivered our Christmas Stockings. But I also remember that some naughtiness was undoubtedly forgiven, because I was still a baby, and I so surprised by Mother . . . when I found a bodkin on the floor whilst I was on my potty, and ‘travelled’ over the carpet with functional legs whilst in the sitting position, and scratched a tangle of abstract art on the front of the drawer in the varnished linen press. [this item of furniture was called the linen cupboard; there was no central heating boiler enclosed in a warm cupboard in which to keep the household linen in 1935, although I do remember a coke stove, which was in the kitchen, being stoked] Mummy came into the room and said – with great astonishment, ‘why have you done that?’. I have no recollection of receiving admonition. I wondered often, thereafter, if Ann knew that Little Sister had desecrated a piece of pre-war utility furniture.

JH did, of course, remember: the linen press remained in the Hipsey household until the early 1990s, when Daddy moved into sheltered accommodation. The linen press was given away to the two Over Sisters, when their married sister came to live with them after being widowed, and more cupboard space was required: this lady was the eldest of the three sisters and predeceased her unmarried sisters by several years. Nancy Over was Nanny to the Parkers’ children, and so met our mother whilst at Sandisplatt; her younger Sister, Peggy Over, trained as a Paediatric Nurse between the Wars; she had a long and interesting career. In due course, she devotedly nursed Nancy - who had myasthenia gravis and died at home in her 80s. Sadly, Peggy – who became profoundly deaf, with increasing infirmity – eventually could not manage in the sisters’ bungalow in Maidenhead, and so was admitted to St Marks Hospital – where Ann and JH’s mother died, in 1989, during a period of respite care. Ann used to visit Peggy: on her last visit, when Peggy was over 100 years old, Ann was so sad that she could not even stroke Peggy’s cheek without alarming Peggy . . . Peggy had left us before death.

JH does not recollect ever having to walk home in the dark from Auntie Bertha’s; neither does JH remember walking about in bad weather; neither does JH remember going to Sandisplatt by car, although we undoubtedly had a car before we moved when JH was 9 years old. JH does recollect visiting Auntie Bertha via a different route, after we moved to Courthouse Road in Furze Platt:- turn left out of our drive, walk along Courthouse Road - which is one of the longest roads in Maidenhead - cross over the cross roads where St Marks Road and St Marks Crescent meet by Belmont Stores, cross diagonally over the patch of grass at the junction with Allenby Road, and enter the footpath running parallel to Wavell Road. JH had a surprise in store for herself – when studying a satellite map of Maidenhead:– this path is labelled Deadman’s Alley! The path snakes all the way to Altwood Road almost at the junction with Cannon Lane, but there is a little snicket through to Sandisplatt Road. However . . . the A4 Bath Road had to be crossed with care – as JH discovered when she was allowed to do a paper round on her bicycle at the age of about 14 . . . near misses with the traffic, which was still nose to tail in the early morning rush hour before the motorway was built, will not be recounted! On one occasion – when JH was walking along Deadman’s Alley – a small elderly but well-groomed lady asked JH if she had a safety pin: JH was so startled, and having hardly heard the request, JH made no reply and walked passed with embarrassment, but JH clearly remembers this lady holding a strip of lace dangling down from her petticoat.

One visit that Ann and JH made to visit Auntie Bertha ‘by default’, is embedded in JH’s memory. We had walked to the bus shelter at thicket corner and were waiting for someone to arrive off a bus coming along the Bath Road. JH just cannot think as to whom this ‘someone’ was. We were both fidgeting about in the bus shelter which we had to ourselves; Ann leant out of the ‘window’ (there was no glass in any part of the bus shelter); JH decided that she was going to wriggle next to her sister and extended an arm; unfortunately, Ann turned her head at that moment and JH hit the side of her nose: Ann’s nose bled profusely, and would not stop. We walked round to Sandisplatt. I have no recollection of Ann getting covered in blood, so we must have had a handkerchief (of the old fashioned cloth sort) or some such with us. We were greeted by Auntie Fay who was of the opinion that a cold key should be dropped down Ann’s back. In any event, Ann was laid flat on the carpet, and the flow was finally stemmed. The disapprobation was palpable! JH is still not sure if Auntie Bertha thought JH had hit her sister on purpose!

{{AE}}During a telecom to Ann on 240716, JH asked Ann if she could remember at what time of year we had moved to Courthouse Road. Ann reported 'I was 11 years old, and I remember we had troubles with the chimneys at Furze Platt.':- this information did of course imply that we moved in the Autumn - late enough for fires to be lit. The living room was constantly full of smoke due to a down-draught being created - for some reason. Tall metal chimneys were erected, which solved this problem (JH recollects that the chimneys were about 4ft long). Unfortunately, some years later one of these chimneys blew down in a storm and was found lying down by the side of the house. The damage done to a few tiles on the roof was not 'noticed' until my mother saw a damp patch on the bedroom ceiling. Subsequently, mummy was told - by the workman who undertook the repairs - that really the initial problem of a smoky down-draught could have been solved with less cumbersome chimneys!