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was different in my day Frank Grimshaw |
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Chapter 10 Chapter 11
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CHAPTER 11, page 2 a commercially aware Café just down the Rowditch serving classic egg, or sausage, and chips with a slice of bread and butter and a mug of tea at ‘tuppence’ less than school dinner. It also gave us adequate time after our repast to visit the Rowditch Bowling Green to spend our ‘savings’ Unfrequented by Members at that time of day, we were welcomed if only for the addition to their funds! A ’set of two’ borrowed bowls included in the ‘tuppenny’ fee, we all developed our own expertise – under the guidance of the resident ‘coach’ who took our money! On a Crown green, we were soon aware of the accuracy needed to compensate a bowl’s bias with the slope of the green. ‘Weight’ was so important. Smooth delivery was the determinant. If dinner breaks had lasted longer, I could have become an enthusiastic Bowls expert! In good weather, I even had time now to bike the three miles home and back again for a proper dinner – provided I’d ensured Mum would be ready to dish up the moment I entered the house. As a reward for such energetic activity, I was allowed to keep my ‘dinner money’ for extra ‘spends’! Wartime brought rationing. As youngsters we weren’t immune and the staple juvenile necessity of sweets was not excluded. ‘Points’ were allocated on a monthly basis within each Ration Book entitling the purchase of four ounces per week per person. Generous parents often forewent their own allocation in favour of ‘the children’! Down the Rowditch was also a ‘Confectioners and Newsagents’ which we regarded as ‘our Tuckshop’. They must have done a good trade, with a quarter of boiled sweets sold at 1d, caramels at 2d a quarter, and bars of chocolate at ½d, 1d and 2d - cashing in on many of our ‘Points’! But they did their best to provide ‘off-ration’ confectionery too. I remember their resourcefulness in supplying pink cachoux – apparently by wartime definition not considered to be ‘sweets’ and therefore.... off the ration! We were unaware that a generation of our mothers had sought these small pill-size deep-pink tablets as ‘breath-sweeteners’, with the additional facility to provide a ‘fetching’ colour to their ‘licked’ lips. ‘Off the ration’ at ‘a penny’ a quarter (lb) we ‘snapped’ them up. A paper-bagful seeming to contain hundreds, easily fitted almost unnoticed in a blazer side-pocket and, no points used, we could enjoy them even more. A regrettable consequence for our Caretaker and his Staff ensued from their easy availability. We soon tired of eating them, but they were just the right size to be ‘flicked’ with a thumb off the curled forefinger – anywhere in school with little chance of detection! The debris which appeared throughout the school soon ensured they were banned.... though probably coinciding with a cessation of their supply. For a very limited time, some delicious liquorice ‘confections’, primarily intended for medical use, also appeared off-ration. Sadly, finalising their popularity, they had an alarming effect on our digestive systems! In summer, Cricket, Athletics and Swimming were offered weekly on Wednesday afternoon. Dedicated Masters coached us, encouraging all and identifying those with talent in their chosen sport. I was proud to be selected for the |
Saturday Morning Burke House team, whether football or cricket, enjoying victory, but in despair when we lost! Despite a singular lack of talent, I enjoyed summer ‘swimming days’ – a fast bike ride steeply down the Rowditch and Stafford Street through Willow Row to Queen St. Baths enabled me to arrive with the leaders to make the most of our allotted half-hour. Arriving hot, sweaty and out of breath, we received our free Entrance ‘token’ from the attractive blonde at the Cash desk and descended to the dungeon of wet-floored half-doored changing booths, redolent with hygienic chlorination. Each rapidly discarding clothes into our personal wire-mesh basket, we dashed with it to the cloakroom for safekeeping, and in return, received a rubber identification ring to place round our wrist for later reclaim of clothes. Then, after a character-forming icy-cold breathtaking plunge into allegedly warm 70º (but always surely less) blue-green chlorinated water and, necessarily energetic races and dives from the lower boards, a final death defying, and totally rule-breaking ‘bomb-drop’ feet-first jump off the top board. Had we stayed longer, we’d have been banned from the pool, but, before possible retribution, we were away to reclaim our clothes. Down again into the dungeon with time only for a brisk rub with the scrubby laundry-dried red-lettered Derby Borough Council towel. Temporarily off guard donning pants while standing on one leg, it was difficult to avoid the stinging flick with the corner of a wet towel wielded by a sadistic ‘friend’. “I’ll get yer next week!” Then, a reluctant laboured ride uphill returned us for the last hour’s lesson at school. In winter, Football, or, in too inclement weather, the Gym, were the sole Sports afternoon activities. From October to March, Queen Street Baths was drained and covered with a Dance Floor – achieving a reputation as the best ‘sprung’ dance floor in the area and attracting the touring ‘Big Bands’ as well as resident Billy Joyce to play for up to a thousand dancers three times a week! In a few years time I would join them! Every Class had its Swot. We rarely saw him outside school – unless we sought him out. Bound to get the Form Prize each year for outstanding class-work, without fail he’d sweep the board at the annual Hobbies Exhibition. Look in any comic book, and in every ‘school’ story, there’s always one who becomes the gang’s ‘Professor’. Ours was John Cockshott. Everything in Maths and Science that remained a mystery to most of us was bread and butter to him. Unfairly, not only was he skilled at Handicrafts, he was also endowed with a business brain. On favoured occasions he invited us to be entertained by his Chemistry Magic, showing a facility and understanding that outdid our teacher.... and would then offer generously to supply us with the necessary equipment and chemicals to reproduce this magic for ourselves. The test tubes, glass and rubber tubing, clamps, beakers, and flasks became vital; the glass stoppered bottles for dangerous acids and alkalis; and the dozen screw-topped glass jars for safe keeping of chemicals. All were essential. All with pleasure – and glint in his eye – he could and did supply us. Cash with Order – bought wholesale by him and retailed to us. Generously he included free written |
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