Leading up to Job Number Three
At home, life took another swipe at Mother. Her only brother, who lived in an adjoining village, was taken ill with cancer. I had to pass his house on my way home from work, so every Friday evening I used to call and have an hour with him. Now every Friday evening I was in the habit of buying a quarter of ham, or a crab when in season, as a weekly treat for Mother and me. I'm afraid I looked on my visit as a duty rather than thought for him, and often when he was talking I was thinking more about the treat to come than poor Uncle and his troubles. He went downhill very quickly, and almost exactly a year after Father died, Uncle followed on.
Mother, who made up in spirit what she lacked physically, soldiered on. It was a real blow to her, as her own family was close‑knit, as was ours. At times like these I was especially glad I was at home with her, as no doubt had she been alone she would have felt it even more.
At work all was going well. In those days there was no canteen, and I had my sandwiches in the reading room of the nearby Institute. This suited me well as the son of the caretaker was, like me, keen on billiards. We both hurried through our meal, and then had a half hour on the billiard table. For some time no‑one else used the reading room at that time, until an elderly man started coming in as well.
Now, as regards sex, I suppose I was even more innocent than most boys of my age. Sex was, and always had been, a strictly forbidden topic at home, and there certainly had been no sex education elsewhere. As far as homosexuality went, I had never even heard the word let alone understand what it meant, so you can guess that when the old man started talking about girls and sex, I felt most uncomfortable. I didn't pay too much attention at first, but then he started to sit near me, and his talk became more and more intimate. It was then that I realised there was something going on I didn't understand. Then came the day when he made what could be called improper advances. I was scared and disgusted, grabbed my lunch tin and hopped it as fast as I could.
For a time I had to get my dinner in the works, but I wouldn't have gone back to the reading room with that dirty old man for a king's ransom. I didn't know what to do about it. It was something I just couldn't mention to anyone else, and certainly not at home. Yet I thought someone ought to know, as he might try it on with someone else. However, I never plucked up the courage, and it died a natural death. In fact, I never told a soul, but even today it makes me squirm just to think about it. It was made easier for me to have my dinner at the home of my billiard‑playing friend when he asked me to, and I gratefully accepted.
By this time my football was going well, and I was now playing for Bungay Town. In fact, everything in the garden was lovely when the next, and probably the worst blow of all fell on the family. My oldest brother, Reg, had been severely wounded in the war. Now, after a lapse of some ten years or more his health began to break up as a result of his wounds. He was only about thirty two, and it was pitiful to see him going back to quickly. Reg and my other brother Charley had between them built up a nice little business in anything in the woodwork line that came along, as well as undertaking and painting. Reg, who had served an apprenticeship with a joiner in Loddon, was a first‑class tradesman. So for that matter was Charley, although he was mostly self‑taught.
In the years following the war building was on the increase. One big reason for this was the availability of a government subsidy for anyone prepared to build. In the next village a slight relation of Mother's ran a bricklayers business. He started buying land and building dwellings, with Reg and Charley doing all the carpentry and joinery. When first introduced, the subsidy was, I believe, three hundred and fifty pounds. Building regulations were minimal, and by cutting corners the builder found he could actually erect a decent place for the amount of the subsidy. So it all looked set fair for Reg, with a nice business, a good wife and two nippers. Then the blow fell. As he grew worse, it soon became evident to me, and even more so to the rest of the family, that he couldn't last long.
In those days, especially in the villages, it was looked on as a duty for the wife or husband, as the case might be, to see after the sufferer until the end. However Reg's wife, poor girl, had reached her limit and a week or two before he died, he was moved to a hospital in Ipswich. He was far too ill to know or care where he was, but this didn't go down well with the families at all, who thought his wife had failed in her duty. She had plenty to cope with without this sort of feeling, but it didn't go on for long as Reg only lasted a week or two. His death, though expected, was a severe shock and the bereavement soon got them all together again. They were all basically kind‑hearted enough, and did all they could to help her along afterwards.
Mother, who made up in spirit what she lacked physically, soldiered on. It was a real blow to her, as her own family was close‑knit, as was ours. At times like these I was especially glad I was at home with her, as no doubt had she been alone she would have felt it even more.
At work all was going well. In those days there was no canteen, and I had my sandwiches in the reading room of the nearby Institute. This suited me well as the son of the caretaker was, like me, keen on billiards. We both hurried through our meal, and then had a half hour on the billiard table. For some time no‑one else used the reading room at that time, until an elderly man started coming in as well.
Now, as regards sex, I suppose I was even more innocent than most boys of my age. Sex was, and always had been, a strictly forbidden topic at home, and there certainly had been no sex education elsewhere. As far as homosexuality went, I had never even heard the word let alone understand what it meant, so you can guess that when the old man started talking about girls and sex, I felt most uncomfortable. I didn't pay too much attention at first, but then he started to sit near me, and his talk became more and more intimate. It was then that I realised there was something going on I didn't understand. Then came the day when he made what could be called improper advances. I was scared and disgusted, grabbed my lunch tin and hopped it as fast as I could.
For a time I had to get my dinner in the works, but I wouldn't have gone back to the reading room with that dirty old man for a king's ransom. I didn't know what to do about it. It was something I just couldn't mention to anyone else, and certainly not at home. Yet I thought someone ought to know, as he might try it on with someone else. However, I never plucked up the courage, and it died a natural death. In fact, I never told a soul, but even today it makes me squirm just to think about it. It was made easier for me to have my dinner at the home of my billiard‑playing friend when he asked me to, and I gratefully accepted.
By this time my football was going well, and I was now playing for Bungay Town. In fact, everything in the garden was lovely when the next, and probably the worst blow of all fell on the family. My oldest brother, Reg, had been severely wounded in the war. Now, after a lapse of some ten years or more his health began to break up as a result of his wounds. He was only about thirty two, and it was pitiful to see him going back to quickly. Reg and my other brother Charley had between them built up a nice little business in anything in the woodwork line that came along, as well as undertaking and painting. Reg, who had served an apprenticeship with a joiner in Loddon, was a first‑class tradesman. So for that matter was Charley, although he was mostly self‑taught.
In the years following the war building was on the increase. One big reason for this was the availability of a government subsidy for anyone prepared to build. In the next village a slight relation of Mother's ran a bricklayers business. He started buying land and building dwellings, with Reg and Charley doing all the carpentry and joinery. When first introduced, the subsidy was, I believe, three hundred and fifty pounds. Building regulations were minimal, and by cutting corners the builder found he could actually erect a decent place for the amount of the subsidy. So it all looked set fair for Reg, with a nice business, a good wife and two nippers. Then the blow fell. As he grew worse, it soon became evident to me, and even more so to the rest of the family, that he couldn't last long.
In those days, especially in the villages, it was looked on as a duty for the wife or husband, as the case might be, to see after the sufferer until the end. However Reg's wife, poor girl, had reached her limit and a week or two before he died, he was moved to a hospital in Ipswich. He was far too ill to know or care where he was, but this didn't go down well with the families at all, who thought his wife had failed in her duty. She had plenty to cope with without this sort of feeling, but it didn't go on for long as Reg only lasted a week or two. His death, though expected, was a severe shock and the bereavement soon got them all together again. They were all basically kind‑hearted enough, and did all they could to help her along afterwards.
posted by curlybonce | 2:32 pm
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