Lighthouse

My earliest memory was of being held by the hand and walking unsteadily across the road to my grandmother's sister's house. She lived opposite us and I clearly remember seeing her at the window and her daughter at the door. I can't remember who was holding my hand. I suspect it was my grandmother, as my mother would have been at work.

How old was I?

Well, the family moved to Barton soon after, so I must have been about 18 months old. I was born in Torquay during one of the coldest winters of the 20th century. Perhaps that's why I've always hated the cold. My mother said it was a traumatic birth. It took hours of sweat soaked straining, groaning and extreme discomfort. And that was just the conception. The cord was around my neck when I finally decided to enter the world. It acted as a piece of elastic, so I was delivered three times.

Rationing was still in operation, but fortunately my mother had enough coupons and I ended up with everything I was supposed to have.


Pre-shchool was an interesting experience. I was four years old, an only child, so my parents thought it would be good for me to interact with other children. My cousin, who was a couple of months older than me, lived next door, but she was family and that didn't count.

There were eight of us, all sitting around a large table. I sat next to Johnathan, who was having continence problems. There were strange smells and puddles kept appearing on the floor. I just hoped they didn't think it was me. I could have fixed the puddle problem by sitting Johnathan, or Peewee as he became known, on a thick cushion but it was not up to me to mention such remedies.

Peewee annoyed me. He would not keep the crayon within the lines in is colouring book. He could colour a whole page in under a minute. How was he going to succeed in life if he continued like that? Thinking about it, he's probably been nominated for The Turner Prize by now!

Before we were collected, we were made to lie on mats and pretend to be asleep. These 'sleeps' got longer and longer as the colouring books were used up............ mostly due to Peewee. I wonder if he's in full control now. Probably not!

My first school was just up the hill from the Regal cinema in Torquay. Saint Hilary's, or the hole in the wall as I think of it now. The entrance was just that, a green door in a long wall and a stair case leading down to the one schoolroom.

It was a small private school of about thirty mixed aged children. From the one class room there were more stairs leading down to another large room for play and games. This was where I learnt to be a tree, butterfly and a fluffy cloud. All things that would stand me in good stead in later life.

It was also the room we ate our lunch. Now a warning. If your mother asks you what sandwiches you would like in your lunchbox, be prepared to have them for the next twelve months!

There was a pecking order at St. Hilary's. It helped if you were big or if you were one of the children of the Principle. One soon got to know one's place.

At Christmas we were all given a small toy. The girls had girly stuff and the boys were given small cars, lorries or buses, except me, I was given a policeman with a No Entry sign. Very useful. The best part of the day was when my grandmother collected me and took me to where my mother and father worked. They owned a Toy Shop!


St. Hilary's only lasted for twelve month. In the September I started at Barton Infants. My first day was interesting. Mothers dragging crying children up the drive to the main hall. I wondered if I should be crying too, perhaps I was missing out!In the hall our names were called and we were assigned to our introduction class. The rest of the day passed in a blurr of excitement and activity. There was no pecking order here, we were all in the same boat.

Day two, and my name was called by Miss. Everyone turned and stared. I was taken out of the class and put forward a year, to give the other children a chance, I thought. Someone had found out about my previous scholastic achievements, the tree, butterfly and a fluffy cloud! I sat next to Shelagh, and she promptly poked me with a pencil. We were friends.

On the way home from school that day, I worked it out that if I were to move up a year every day, I would be leaving school in about two weeks time. No such luck!

Being taught to read was one of my most boring experiences. There were a dozen large cards around the classroom telling the story of John and Jill. 'John has a book, Jill also has a book'. 'John is going to the shop', 'Jill is going with him'. With any luck, one or both will be abducted or run over by a bus, and that would be the last we would hear of John and Jill. But no such luck! When were we going to start on D. H. Lawrence?

As the year went on it soon became obvious that I couldn't spell. I knew the word, I could tell you what it meant, but ask me to spell it .........! Take the word banana, I wouldn't know when to stop. And it was no use telling me to use a dictionary, you have to know where to start with a dictionary!! Perhaps the tree, butterfly and a fluffy cloud would come in useful after all.

Time was speeding up. Barton Infants was soon to become Barton Juniors. Same school, different entrance and a new person to share a desk with.

Joey reminded me too much of Peewee. He had that same aroma of stale urine about him. A nice enough chap, but a shame about his freckles and ginger hair. It was a friendship that was to last for several years.


We had Miss Cooke for our last two year at Barton Juniors, and I must say that it was thanks to her that some of us did better than we expected, and achieved more than we thought we could, with her help and encouragement.
A lesson I never forgot happened at the end of her first year with us. It was necessary to reduce our class size by one and Miss Cooke told us that we were to make the choice. Two girls, of very different personalities, achieved the lowest marks in the end of term exam, and so these girls were to be the candidate of our choice.

" You may vote for Pauline, or you may vote for that horrible spiteful girl Gillian", said Miss Cooke. Even Gillian voted for Pauline after the question was put like that. A lesson learnt. Take care how you fame a question.

Other memories.......
Sports Day on the lawn, the smell in the Hall after school diners had been served, those dreadful raffia mats that used to hurt your knees at P.T, beanbags, sorting papers (salvage) in the boiler room before class, finding a copy of Health and Efficiency amongst the papers, football at Windmill Hill, the wildflower table, open days, bulb shows, small bottles of milk and milk tablets in the Winter, kiss chase at break time...................

Well, here we all are, that happy band of pilgrims. Soon to be leaving Barton and going on to Grammar or Secondary Modern Schools. Do I remember all the names of my partners in crime? Most of them...............and some I would rather forget! I'm fourth from the left, in the front row. I was having a bad hair day, but by the look of it I was not the only one.