White Haired Woman

This is the third part of my favourite places. If I were to name all my favourite places, I could make a list of 20 or 30 or even more – they would have been my favourite place at one specific time but for this set of posts, I’m sticking to places I’ve lived or spent many days, weeks, months or years in.

Place number three is Market Cross Cottage and the small town of West Malling in Kent. I have written about living in a small cottage in a busy High Street before (see The Market Cross Ghost, published in Oct. 2017) so, if you want details of the size, age, shape etc of that old home of mine, do please go back and read all about the ghost, the old prayer book etc etc. This evening I am concentrating on the town of West Malling.

In 1962, the young man I was going out with at the time lived in the small village of Wateringbury. To get home in the evening after attending the college we were both at, Tim had to take a train from Victoria Station in London to West Malling in Kent where one of his parents would pick him up for the short drive to Wateringbury.

Around ten years later Patty, my mother, decided we should move out of London and found a small cottage in the High Street of West Malling to buy. We all went to visit it and thought it was lovely and, some months later, we moved in. Living in the High Street was very convenient for a good many reasons – the shops were all at hand, there were several food shops including a ‘supermarket’ (really just a large self-service grocery store), there was an ‘off license’* next door to our house, several green grocers*, and, best of all, the library was just across the road! There were also, I seem to remember, something like 13 pubs!

The High Street changed a fair bit during the first few years we lived there. The ‘supermarket’ closed down and, sometime later that shop became a travel agent. The Fire Station and one of the pubs, up the road, were knocked down and a large shop called Cartier’s opened selling many frozen foods (including, during a short time one happy summer, Popsicles! (an American ice lolly on two sticks) We bought several lots before autumn, as I recall.

There were a few very useful shops in those first years which disappeared later – a large shop which sold gifts and stationery which also had a printing shop at the back; a takeaway Chinese restaurant just beyond the library; Briggs’ shop, which sold cigarettes, sweets and assorted items one tends to run out of after all the other shops have closed for the night. Mr Briggs stayed open until 9 o’clock every night, (and it fed my addiction to dark chocolate caramels during one long winter!) There was also a small department store called Viners, which took up several shop premises, upstairs and down. In later years Viners Undertakers was the last department still there, in one end of those premises, the others having been leased or bought by various other businesses.

Another shop which has disappeared, at least from the corner of Swan Street, was Baldocks. Baldocks sold a whole range of useful items like ex-army(?) bags in a green/khaki colour which were very useful as across-body handbags for us poor students, also jeans, army type jumpers, socks etc etc.

There was a launderette, a sweet shop, a news agency, a few restaurants, a few hairdressers, several estate agents, the aforementioned pubs, dress shops, gift shops, and – later on – two very useful charity shops where we did much of our Christmas shopping when our salaries didn’t seem to go far enough.

West Malling is where I first met Julian whose younger brother and father I had met earlier that year. Ralph, Julian’s dad, was an architect. He spotted a building just across the road from our house that needed saving and bought it. It had been the town’s Assembly Rooms at one time and, before it closed down, had been a toy shop but was, in the mid 70s, quite derelict.

Rumours spread about what the building would be used for. When I heard that it was going to be a wine-bar, my ears perked up! I was a primary school teacher and rarely met any new adults – I was too shy to go to pubs by myself and didn’t have a wide range of friends in the town. I decided that it would be good to get out of the house in the evening, once or twice a week, and work as a waitress in the wine bar. Other people who worked there were Ralph’s sister-in-law, Jackie, who was the brilliant chef and Julian’s youngest brother, Damien, who variously, ran the cellar bar and worked as a navvy on the building, We were joined by ‘Veronica’ who worked in the kitchen and ‘Betty’ who, like me, was a part-time waitress.

There were other waitresses, of course and other kitchen hands, also a bar manager, Charles, to whom I said, one Friday night in September1981, “Tonight Mr ‘Right’ is going to come in.”

And he did!

Sixteen years and several homes after that night, Julian and I moved back to West Malling, to open our Antique shop and Upholstery/Furniture Restoration workshop. We bought a building which had been one of the vast array of pubs, right next door to the old Assembly Rooms and directly across the street from Market Cross Cottage.

Those sixteen years had seen many changes in the High Street and were to see a fair few in the next seven years when we packed up our shop/business and moved away to the seaside.

*Off License – a shop selling alcohol in its various forms.

*Greengrocer – a shop selling fruit and vegetables.

My great-grandma Weller’s house was in Part One; in Part Two I will tell you about my Grandma Ethel’s house – it’s the second of two in Zanesville, Ohio.

Great-grandma Weller had two daughters – Louise and Ethel. I think they were probably taught at home by a governess, though I don’t know that for certain. They were both born in the last years of the nineteenth century and grew up in the house described in Part One.

As far as I know, I never met my great-aunt Louise though I do remember her daughter very well and may tell you about her and her life in another post. Ethel, my grandmother was considered very beautiful and caught the eye of a handsome young man called Frederick Grant, who had been in the Balloon Corps in WWI.

Ethel and Fred married and along came my mother, Patricia, in 1922. They all lived in the home my grandpa Grant bought for his wife. It was in a quiet part of Zanesville, a mile or two from the hustle and bustle of downtown. It was/is a brick-built house of two storeys plus attic and basement. Inside the front door to the right is a downstairs toilet, although I think in America it’s called a ‘cloakroom’ or ‘powder room’. Its one window was very narrow and has a metal decoration which would stop a burglar from breaking in through it, though Judy and I were so skinny we could go out that way!

On the opposite side there was a ‘library’ room with book-cases on most of the walls with cupboards underneath and a short-wave radio on a shelf. Later in its life it had a television on a shelf on the wall between the library and the drawing room. On that very television I remember seeing Elvis Presley’s appearance on the Milton Berle Show or perhaps The Steve Allen Show. I had thought it was the Ed Sullivan Show but I doubt if we would have been in Zanesville in the September of 1956 as we went to school in Worthington, Ohio, a suburb of Columbus, Ohio.

The drawing-room was a very formal room which had quite delicate furniture with light-coloured upholstery – a room which was not for playing in, so we considered it out-of-bounds, though I don’t think anyone ever forbade it. There was, however, a piano in that room and, if we wanted to play a tune on it, we would sit at the piano. The drawing room had two interior doors, one from the library and one from the hallway. It may have had French windows out to the terrace where Judy and I spent many hours with our friends in the summer holidays or, they could have just been windows.

Out in the hall one might notice a strange looking hole about 2” across with a cover on a hinge. This was part of a built-in vacuum system which must have had other openings throughout the house, though I don’t remember seeing them. I’m not certain it was in use in the 1950s but I was very impressed with the idea!

The main staircase was in this hallway, going up from the ground-floor towards the front of the house. I think there must have been an ornamental bannister as I don’t remember any of us sliding down it. Judy would have slid down it if it had been possible – she was always the daredevil of us three girls!

On the wall opposite the drawing-room were two doors – the left hand one took you into the formal dining room, the right hand one opened into a little space with coat cupboards, other storage cupboards and the back staircase (built for servants in the late 19th century but used by anyone in the mid 20th.)

Past the cupboards on the left and the stairs on the right was a door into what was probably called the Butler’s Pantry (but there wasn’t a butler!). In this room were cupboards holding crockery, others holding staples such as sugar cubes and dog biscuits (two of the things I have personal memories of trying to eat in that room!) Also, there was a table with a window high up above it, where I think people would have polished the silver, if there was any silver needing to be polished. And drawers for cutlery (silverware).To right and left were further doors – to the right was the kitchen and to the left was the dining room.

The kitchen was quite a good size. There was a bay to the left as you went in which held the fridge and freezer and the back door. Back in the kitchen a further bay to the left held a small table and 3 or 4 chairs where we would eat normally, leaving the grownups to eat in a civilised manner in the dining room, I guess. The main body of the kitchen had all the things kitchens have – sink, cooker (stove), cupboards for pots and pans, baking sheets and pans, turkey roasters and all sorts of other cookware and, of course, drawers for all the utensils one would find in a kitchen – wooden and metal spoons, mashers, ricers, basters, etc etc.

The dining room room had a large table and 6 or 8 chairs including two with arms (in England, those armed chairs are called carvers). The carvers were at the two ends of the table and were for the host and hostess, (or mum and dad) and the other, armless chairs were for guests (or kids). There was a sideboard on the wall leading back toward the kitchen. On a table next to the window-wall (looking out to the side garden) was a bird cage containing a canary whose name I have forgotten, I’m sad to say. On the farther end of the dining room was a door leading to an outdoor area which was enclosed by screen walls and with a ceiling which connected the house to the double garage.This was “The Breezeway”, a place to sit in the summer, out of the sun’s rays with breezes wafting through keeping one cool (supposedly, although the heat of an Ohio summer is very humid so I can’t imagine that it was really all that comfortable.)

Upstairs were four bedrooms for the family, two of which had en suites and two other smaller bedrooms for children or servants. There was also a bathroom to be shared near those rooms. In the same area is something I’ve always thought a good idea – a door, quite high up on the wall from which one can throw dirty clothes and linens, which will land in the basement where the utility room is situated. But before we go downstairs to the big basement, I’d like to describe the fourth family bedroom, one of the ones without its own en suite bathroom.

It was a long, slim room containing twin beds (I think). The right hand wall was all windows, floor to ceiling. In the heat of the summer, the windows could be removed and replaced by screens which allowed the air to circulate and the inhabitant to sleep. I can’t comment on whether it worked or not as I never slept in there but I can imagine it would have been quite pleasant in the hot summers.

The other bedroom without an en suite was where Judy and I often slept when we visited. Though it had no loo, and no bath or shower, behind a mirrored door, there was a basin with a mirror above it where we could wash. Across the landing was our Uncle Bill’s bedroom and the en suite for his room also had a door from the landing so we could use that for baths etc.

Now, to the cellar! I think the door to the cellar was in the Butler’s Pantry just outside the door into the kitchen. There were several rooms in the cellar – the utility room which had everything you’d need to wash and dry your clothes and linens – a big washing machine, a clothes line which went back and forth above your head, wall-to-wall and an ironing board and iron set up nearby. I think the furnace must have been in there, too, helping the hanging clothes to dry. It must have been hell working in there sometimes!

Outside the utility room was a smaller room which was used for storage. I remember seeing a large cardboard box containing rolls and rolls of toilet paper, and I seem to remember there were a couple of bikes, too. There was a door just outside this little room which led to the outside with steps going up to ground level.

The best room, by far, to us, was a huge room that had a giant mural on one (or more?) of the walls. It was in a sort of 30’s style of a woman leaning on a balcony railing – I think. It was the best because it had a smooth concrete floor and was, usually, quite tidy with very little in the way and we could roller skate all round it to our hearts’ content, although we only had one pair of skates so we had the odd argument about whose turn it was to have the skates.

Judy and I put on a show which was going to be for all our friends but I don’t remember any of them coming, so I think we rehearsed it a lot but couldn’t bring ourselves to actually invite anyone! In our show we were going to sing a duet of The Wayward Wind. If you had (or have) heard either of us singing, you might understand why the performance never took place!

As I said earlier, the place we spent most of the time when we visited was on the terrace which was at the back of the house. There were chairs and loungers, and tables. We entertained our friends there and enjoyed being outside. The garden extended quite far and at the end of a path there was a stone bench against the hedge which divided grandma Ethel’s garden from the next one, which,once upon a time, belonged to Ethel’s first husband’s mother and latterly by our cousins, the Stewarts.

So much for my favourite places in Zanesville (although I loved our house in Sunset Avenue, too). In future posts I hope to describe my favourite places in other cities where I have lived.

Though there are things I am not thankful for (eg Trump, wars,the climate problem, etc), I am thankful for many more things.

I am thankful to have reached my 81st Thanksgiving, though I no longer celebrate the day.

I am thankful that my mother brought me and my sisters to England sixty-six years ago so that the authoritarian nightmare in America only affects me (physically) via the family members I have remaining there and whatever the orange one does regarding his relationship with Britain and Europe. Mentally, it affects me much more strongly and I must try not to doom-scroll daily if I want to stay reasonably sane.

I am thankful for my home and the things that I have. (I have too many things which I think is a result of not having lots of things when I was younger. Veronica, too, is very acquisitive and she agrees that it must date back to the days when we did our Christmas present buying in the town’s charity shops – mainly books for all of us, about which we were thankful at the time, I hasten to add!)

I am thankful for Veronica, Chloe, Julian and friends and relatives (including Julian’s siblings and their partners and children, past and present; Veronica’s husband, Chloe’s partner, my sisters and brothers and their partners; and all the friends and neighbours we have made over my lifetime.

I’m thankful that all of us got through the covid pandemic with nothing worse than coughs and feeling really tired.

I’m thankful for my sweet doggie who is, at this moment, making me type with one hand while I cuddle her tummy with the other and for our previous dog, Rosie, who was so sweet, most of the time.

I am thankful that I live in a beautiful seaside town which is full of great restaurants, and lovely sandy beaches.

I am also thankful for having decided to give up driving – it’s mad out there sometimes!

I’m thankful for the NHS which has helped me live a life free of knee pain, which was excruciating 15 years ago, for my carpal tunnel operations, my hearing aids, the cataract operation on my right eye and the second, which will be in January.

There are probably loads of things I’ve left out!

One thing I would be thankful for is a piece of pumpkin pie! I haven’t had any for many years! Since I no longer cook from scratch, it’s not something I am going to do. I once had a tin of ‘pumpkin pie filling’ but never used it as the instructions were so daunting!

The other day, the daily prompt asked about the most famous person the writer had met. I was very busy with household emergencies (my freezer broke down with loads of frozen veges in it.)

Nevertheless I spent some time thinking about the question and I came up with three people. Here is my introduction to the most famous people I have met.

First, there is my grandfather. His name was Robinson Jeffers and he was a well-known American poet during the 20s and 30s, mostly in America but I have met a few British people who also knew of his works. In fact, last year in London’s newest theatre, @sohoplace, there was a wonderful production of Jeffers’s adaptation of Euripides’ Medea starring Sophie Okonedo and Ben Daniels.

My half brother, who lives in California, was invited by the production team to attend. He arranged for tickets for me (as the oldest Jeffers grand daughter) and my daughter to go with him. Meeting the stars of the show would have been included but, sadly, we didn’t get to meet them at the after-play party – there were far too many people there for comfort and, after half an hour or so, we sneaked away. I doubt if anyone noticed.

I didn’t know my grandfather very well at all. He was my father’s father. My mother and father divorced when I was very young (about 3) and he spent much of his life in California. When I was 11 or 12, Judy and I went to visit our father for a week or two. Daddy lived in the house built by my grandfather in the 20s, with grandfather and Daddy’s new family. Grandfather also built a tower from the local rock. It had a secret staircase built into the outer wall, which led to the top of the tower which was open to the elements.

It seemed to me that grandfather spent a lot of time in his tower, probably because that’s where I remember speaking to him. I was a shy child, he was an old man and I’m sorry to say, I spent very few minutes with him during that holiday.

On YouTube you can find a few videos about him and his house and tower. His poetry is also discussed in various videos so, if you’re interested, you can find out more about him and his life.

Another famous other person I met is someone, few if any people under the age of about 70 will have heard of (I think.) His name is Emile Ford. He was a popular singer in Britain in the 1950s and early 60s. I met him in a tv studio in north London in around 1959.

At the time I was the secretary of the American Teen Age club which met in the basement rooms of the Columbia Club in Lancaster Gate. The Columbia Club was a club for officers of the US services on duty in London. There was a restaurant, a bar, and more but no one ever told me what else there was and I was only interested in our meeting place.

Anyway, as secretary, I had a phone call from a tv studio inviting a group of teen-agers to take part in a new show. There would be music and pop songs and they wanted us to dance together during part of the show which was called Tin Pan Alley.

A group of us made our way to somewhere in north London. We arrived at – I seem to remember – a place that looked like a cinema, and went in. I remember very little of the actual program except the bit where I met Emile Ford.

Our group of about ten were seated in a set made to look like a cafe with little tables, each with a few chairs round it. I sat next to a young man that I didn’t know – he seemed very nice. I was eager to see what was going to happen and straight away an announcer said something like, “And now, folks, here’s Emile Ford singing his latest single, ‘What Do You Wanna Make Those Eyes at me For?’” (Or it could have been “Slow Boat to China’, his other hit – I really can’t remember!)

What I do remember is that at the announcement, the nice young man I was sitting with jumped up and started to sing. I was flabbergasted that he was the star of the show and he was sitting with me!!!

After he sang he came back and sat down next to me again. I was immediately star-struck. If I’d been shy and quiet before he sang, I was even shyer and quieter after!

Of course, that afternoon went very quickly. At the end, we went home on the tube with autographed pictures of Emile Ford. The programme was shown, probably on a Friday night soon after the filming and I had the pleasure of seeing myself dancing on tv.

We didn’t take part in the next edition of Tin Pan Alley and it seems to have disappeared into the place old tv programs go, never to be heard of again. (Except, of course, in my memory.)

There are a few videos on YouTube with Emile Ford singing so, if you want to see who I’ve written about, take a look!

And this brings me to the third ‘famous’ person I have met – his name is Tim Vine and he was the compère on a tv game show in the late 90s, called Whittle.

They were filming Whittle is the nearby Maidstone Studios and a group of us had put our names down to attend the filming of one of the shows. There was an audience of 100. Slowly but surely those 100 people were whittled down to just one – and, for that particular edition of the show, I was the ‘one’! As a result of my answering another 3 questions correctly, I won the evening’s jackpot. (I think it was a huge £750).

Tim Vine is still seen on telly occasionally and writes for other comedians.