MY LIFE
Everyone’s life is a mystery as there is nothing we can foresee
INTRODUCTION
As we approach our later years we are able to look back and have some understanding of our life. Events may have overtaken us, but we can see how and why we have responded to these. We have maybe made some mistakes, but also struggled to become the unique person we are. We can look back and see we have acquired some personal wisdom. This has to be our own wisdom, as we have responded to life’s events in our own personal way, our life has been like no one else’s.
Our parents, and even the generations that have come before us have made a huge impression and mark on our lives: our parents have taught us what is right and what is wrong, and how we should behave. At times we may look back and query some of the things they taught us, and it is then that we then make our own choices. These choices can be affected by our mother’s character and how she coped with her own life, as this has a great bearing on our own. My mother had a quite extraordinary life: amazingly she never told me about the most momentous event in her life until just before she died. This event changed the way she responded to all that happened to her for the rest of her life. I am her only child, and I feel sure her life has affected me hugely. It is only in my later years that I have started to comprehend my own life in a more acceptable way.
Our parents, and even the generations that have come before us have made a huge impression and mark on our lives: our parents have taught us what is right and what is wrong, and how we should behave. At times we may look back and query some of the things they taught us, and it is then that we then make our own choices. These choices can be affected by our mother’s character and how she coped with her own life, as this has a great bearing on our own. My mother had a quite extraordinary life: amazingly she never told me about the most momentous event in her life until just before she died. This event changed the way she responded to all that happened to her for the rest of her life. I am her only child, and I feel sure her life has affected me hugely. It is only in my later years that I have started to comprehend my own life in a more acceptable way.
THE PEACEFUL WAR YEARS WITH MY MOTHER AND ERNEST
The Second World War started in 1939, a year after I was born. Living just outside London my Father was anxious for my Mother and myself to be out of one of the main targets for the bombs. Being in the Civil Service he was to stay in London. So my Mother and I went to live with my Godfather in Leamington Spa. Ernest, my Godfather, had been living in Wilbraham Place, right in the centre of London, and naturally wanted to be away from the imminent dangers of the capital, so he rented a huge house in Leamington Spa, and we lived there with him for five years. In 1939 no one knew how the war would develop or how long it would last, it lasted until 1945 when Germany finally surrendered to the Allies and the UK was at last able to live in peace.
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During those years I lived a contented and happy life, my Mother kept the news of all the disasters and senseless killings of over 50 million human beings from me. Most people had scant rations during this time as food was scarce, but my Godfather had money and was able to obtain meat, butter and eggs, plus all the foodstuffs we required. We had a living-in cook and a parlour maid, also a daily cleaning lady: my Mother had no need to be involved with anything domestic, such as shopping, cooking and cleaning the big house. This was a transformation for her as the ten previous years living with my Father she had had to do all these household tasks herself: and having spent the first third of her life in India where it was normal for British women to have several servants she had found this nothing but gruesome. Being so young this style of living seemed normal to me, and I spent all my time with my Mother until I went to a small nursery school. I certainly did not have any outside life, and no brothers or sisters.
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6 years old
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I am sure my Father came down to see my Mother and myself, but the trains in the war were intermittent as any sign of a bomb dropping on the route meant they were cancelled. In fact, I do not remember seeing him during the war years, but he must have come to see us when he had the opportunity. As for my Godfather, Ernest, he was always there, but he never interfered with my upbringing, always leaving this to my Mother. For me, life was as it should be, totally safe and protected from the horrors of war. Very occasionally when there was an air raid warning I was bundled into my green siren suit, and we all trouped down to the cellar which had been turned into a comfortable shelter for the duration of the raid. The nearest place of note to be bombed was Coventry Cathedral.
Being an only child meant I occasionally looked for amusement elsewhere, and I would sometimes escape to the next-door garden where a dentist and his wife lived, they had no children. My anxious Mother kept instilling into me that Mrs Ryecroft had no children so I must not keep pestering her. It did no good and I insisted that she loved me coming to visit, and one day she told me that Dorcas, one of their two rabbits, was expecting babies. Wild with excitement I rushed round on the day the babies were expected only to learn that Dorcas had not given birth yet. The next day I returned from school and my mother told me the babies had been born and Mrs Ryecroft had invited me round to see them. Living in these rather unusual circumstances this was a truly exciting occurrence for me, and I could not wait to get next door. There was Dorcas, surrounded by five minute little beings clinging to her. Mrs Ryecroft lifted up one of them and showed me how it fitted into the palm of her hand, and she then put it into my hand, just for a few seconds as the baby wanted to get back to his Mummy's house.
MY PARENTS DIVORCE
When the war came to an end in 1945 my Mother and I moved back to live with my Father in Beckenham, Kent. This was a time when many marriages fell apart. The men had gone to war or were working apart from their families, and the women were left alone, many having to bring a child up on their own. They started to go out to work to earn some money and this gave them some independence. Amongst the marriages that broke down was that of my parents, although this was at first hidden from me: and having said that we lived with my Father I do not remember him being there, I only remember my mother, myself and Ernest.
The next thing I remember is my mother having to go up to London one morning, she did not tell me why. Had it been a normal day I would have been at school, but that day I had a bad cough and had to stay at home. I saw her rushing around and using the telephone, and very soon our neighbour, Mrs McKenna, came round to be with me. What I did not know was that it was the day of the Decree Nisi which was why my Mother had to go up to London. Looking back I feel it must have been truly awful for her at such a crucial point in her life to have to cope with a sickly child. This was in 1947 when I was 9.
A few days after this I had just gone up to bed when the front doorbell rang. This was not usual as we seldom had visitors at night. I heard my Mother’s voice and another one, I thought it sounded like Ernest, my Godfather, but I was not sure. So I crept down the stairs to find out who was there, and found my Mother had left the living room door wide open. I could see into the room where Ernest was on one side of the fireplace and my Mother was on the other. He was talking to her in a very serious voice and I could tell he was asking her something important. I was absolutely intrigued to know what it was, but my Mother very soon spotted me and packed me up back to bed, saying she would explain everything in the morning. When I came down for breakfast the next day she immediately told me “We” were going to marry Uncle Ernest and I should call him “Daddy” from now on. Surprisingly enough I took this news perfectly calmly. I had lived with Ernest throughout the war and it did not feel odd to hear we would be living with him again.
The next thing I remember is my mother having to go up to London one morning, she did not tell me why. Had it been a normal day I would have been at school, but that day I had a bad cough and had to stay at home. I saw her rushing around and using the telephone, and very soon our neighbour, Mrs McKenna, came round to be with me. What I did not know was that it was the day of the Decree Nisi which was why my Mother had to go up to London. Looking back I feel it must have been truly awful for her at such a crucial point in her life to have to cope with a sickly child. This was in 1947 when I was 9.
A few days after this I had just gone up to bed when the front doorbell rang. This was not usual as we seldom had visitors at night. I heard my Mother’s voice and another one, I thought it sounded like Ernest, my Godfather, but I was not sure. So I crept down the stairs to find out who was there, and found my Mother had left the living room door wide open. I could see into the room where Ernest was on one side of the fireplace and my Mother was on the other. He was talking to her in a very serious voice and I could tell he was asking her something important. I was absolutely intrigued to know what it was, but my Mother very soon spotted me and packed me up back to bed, saying she would explain everything in the morning. When I came down for breakfast the next day she immediately told me “We” were going to marry Uncle Ernest and I should call him “Daddy” from now on. Surprisingly enough I took this news perfectly calmly. I had lived with Ernest throughout the war and it did not feel odd to hear we would be living with him again.
MY LIFE AT "WHITETHORPE", ERNEST’S HOME
Ernest
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So Ernest and my Mother were married and of course, they took me to the marriage. My Mother, being nearly thirty years younger than Ernest, had told him she would marry him on condition I would be given the very best education possible, and he had agreed. Not only did he promise to do this but he kept his word in every way. Amazingly they were able to be married in a church, Westminster Chapel, this was most unusual in those days if one of you was divorced. I remember being driven up there in the Rolls by Beveridge, Ernest's chauffeur, and I must have sensed the excitement in the car as twice I felt violently sick. Ernest's chauffeur had to quickly stop the Rolls for me to be sick on the pavement! Again looking back I realise this was not the best situation for my poor Mother to have to deal with. However we got there in time, and I sat in the first pew while they were married. The three of us then went off to the Dorchester to celebrate with a superb lunch. Ernest was in very high spirits, he had finally got the woman he had learnt to love for over twenty years, and my Mother seemed happy too. For me, it was just another day.
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I knew they had been looking for a big house with a large garden, and once they had found this the three of us moved in. This was certainly a new life for both of them and also for me. The house was huge, it had two staircases, the back one being for the living-in cook, this led to two rooms in the attic for her. The main staircase had two rows of shallow steps which reversed, and on the landing stood an enormous grandfather clock. The kitchen area was immense and comprised of four rooms. There was the kitchen itself, not of course like a modern kitchen, and a larder which had an outside window to keep food cool where meat, butter, milk and anything that we would now put in a fridge were kept. Another big room was called the Maids Sitting Room which was where the staff gathered for elevenses and at teatime. Plus the Butler’s Pantry which had vast cupboards that seemed to go up to the ceiling for storing all the china, and a hatch where the food was handed into the dining-room.
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"Whitethorpe", where I lived after my Mother married Ernest
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The hall had Ernest’s carved Black Forest bears in it and I still have them in my own apartment. One is a seat for two people and at each end is a standing bear. The other is a seat for one person, the arms being the bear’s front paws. Off the hall was the Morning Room, a moderately sized room which led onto a huge covered balcony. Ernest was one of the first people to acquire a TV, and then the room became the TV room. Very few people had a TV in those days, and Ernest was always very generous and would invite people round for important events. When it came to the Coronation in 1953 the staff and various friends were all invited to view this momentous occasion. As many chairs as possible were crammed into the room.
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To the right of the hall was the sitting room, it was a beautiful room. There were nineteen pieces of Chinese and Japanese lacquer in it. As you entered the room a lacquered grand piano faced you. An imposing Chinese rug on the floor held a lacquered sofa and two armchairs in Chinese silk; in addition, there was a lacquered round coffee table and a revolving lacquered bookcase. As well as these, all of which were in lacquer, were an imposing writing desk, a newspaper rack, a fender, a coal scuttle and a three-tiered cake stand. Even the legs of the piano stool were in lacquer. The room had a gracious appearance. Ernest always slept between lunch and afternoon tea, and he came down on the dot of 4 o'clock when Cook wheeled in the tea trolley, usually with a Victoria sponge and little fairy cakes on it. |
The grand dining-room had a handsome dining table with eight mahogany chairs round it. The sideboard was massive and always seemed laden to me, most of this was items of silver belonging to Ernest. A carving table stood on one side and joints were always carved here. I remember we had joints every three or four days. The upstairs rooms were a similar size. My mother and Ernest had the bedroom over the dining-room with a dressing-room attached. The spare room, mostly used for my mother’s extra clothes, was over the sitting room. My bedroom was over the morning room, it was all decorated in blue with a kidney-shaped dressing table with a blue flowered frill around it. The bed had a satin blue eiderdown. At the back of the first floor was Ernest’s office and my “Den”, a room just for me.
Cook had plenty to do as there were always staff around. There was Cheesman the gardener, Miriam Higgins Ernest’s secretary who came mornings, and of course Beveridge the chauffeur was still with us. As the years went by it became more difficult to find parlour maids, so young European staff were found. We had a Norwegian girl, a Spanish one and the last one was a young Italian boy. He was immensely proud of Ernest’s Rolls and made sure it was always polished to perfection; Ernest also purchased a Daimler for himself to drive and for daily use for shopping and local outings, my mother had never driven.
Cook had plenty to do as there were always staff around. There was Cheesman the gardener, Miriam Higgins Ernest’s secretary who came mornings, and of course Beveridge the chauffeur was still with us. As the years went by it became more difficult to find parlour maids, so young European staff were found. We had a Norwegian girl, a Spanish one and the last one was a young Italian boy. He was immensely proud of Ernest’s Rolls and made sure it was always polished to perfection; Ernest also purchased a Daimler for himself to drive and for daily use for shopping and local outings, my mother had never driven.
WESTONBIRT
I went to a private school called Kinnaird Park, in general, I loved it, especially the Maths and the sport. I have friends from there to this day: Linnet and Sheena, and of course Sarah until she died about 4 years ago. When I was just 12 I went to Westonbirt school in Gloucestershire, a well regarded public school. The headmistress at this time was Violet Grubb, she was the principal of all the girls’ public schools at this time. I was absolutely terrified of her and so were all the other girls. The school was divided into five houses and I was in Badminton. We slept in dormitories, and we had to take it in turns to go to the sluice room to collect hot water for washing. Amazingly enough, I never found the regime of a boarding school odd, we were just all girls together in this.
I loved sport, and took to lacrosse and tennis immediately, ending up in the first teams. Gymnastics too were my forte and I even went back to gym classes after having my son, Kevin. Maths also interested me, but other subjects did not greatly. Except Latin, we did a year of this and then had to decide between Latin and Domestic Science. I begged my mother to let me do Latin, but she knew I would not be living in the way she did and would have to learn domestic tasks, so she insisted I did Domestic Science. It was a bad choice, and I recall making a blancmange and not bringing the mixture to the boil so it did not set, and I presented it to the tutor all runny. To this day I am deficient in all things domestic or practical. My mother having grown up in India had never had much reason to be practical as all the British there had servants.
I loved sport, and took to lacrosse and tennis immediately, ending up in the first teams. Gymnastics too were my forte and I even went back to gym classes after having my son, Kevin. Maths also interested me, but other subjects did not greatly. Except Latin, we did a year of this and then had to decide between Latin and Domestic Science. I begged my mother to let me do Latin, but she knew I would not be living in the way she did and would have to learn domestic tasks, so she insisted I did Domestic Science. It was a bad choice, and I recall making a blancmange and not bringing the mixture to the boil so it did not set, and I presented it to the tutor all runny. To this day I am deficient in all things domestic or practical. My mother having grown up in India had never had much reason to be practical as all the British there had servants.
FINISHING SCHOOL IN PARIS
Violet Grubb, our Headmistress, was extremely keen for her girls to have a career, she was way ahead of her time. This went right against my mother’s ideas and also those of Ernest, who was born in 1873 when women did not work. Consequently, I was taken out of Westonbirt after the first year Sixth to go to a finishing school abroad. The three of us went over to both Florence and Paris, I remember the visits well. In Florence, we were given afternoon tea from a huge trolley laden with silver, and cream was handed round to put in our tea. As I had never taken had a liking for tea, and do not drink it even now, I found the addition of cream particularly displeasing. In Paris Madame was much more relaxed and it was obvious, even to me, that she had the welfare of her girls at heart, so thankfully Paris was chosen.
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We were twelve English girls plus Patsy, an American, and Azza, a girl from Dubai who had been born in England. Everyone’s first language was English and I am afraid we never spoke French among ourselves. Madame employed a butler, Lucien, who waited on us at table, and Mlle Carlotti from the Sorbonne taught us French every morning. Unfortunately, all the other girls had not been to an academic school and they were not at all interested in learning French. We had “dictée” most mornings which I found rather fascinating, but the others did not.
Madame was conscientious about taking us regularly to museums, art galleries and the opera. Once we understood the metro and the buses we were allowed to go out on our own in the afternoons, but the evenings were another matter: even when our parents came to visit us we had to tell Madame exactly where we were going and with whom. I was fortunate to be with Madame in Paris and not in Florence. I shared a room with Anne, who in spite of being the daughter of a director of Courtaulds, was more at home on a farm and she eventually found happiness in marrying a farmer. Anne and I would go out to the amazing Parisian shops, to Montmartre or to one of the nearby parks. |
Finishing school in Paris - I am bottom row second from right
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Deportment was important, and Mlle Varelles came weekly to teach us this. We had to balance books on our heads and walk slowly across the room. She taught us to sit upright and not to slouch. This was not difficult for me owing to my time at Westonbirt, where we got marks for deportment, and to this day I remind myself regularly to sit up straight.
I remember my mother and Ernest coming over to Paris to see me, and begging them to take me to Antoine’s restaurant to eat snails. For some reason, this was the restaurant we were all pleading to go to. All that sticks in my mind is that we ate snails, I must have happily eaten them, and now I would never touch them!
I remember my mother and Ernest coming over to Paris to see me, and begging them to take me to Antoine’s restaurant to eat snails. For some reason, this was the restaurant we were all pleading to go to. All that sticks in my mind is that we ate snails, I must have happily eaten them, and now I would never touch them!
THE DEBUTANTE YEARS
We all spent two terms with Madame and then returned home to have Coming Out parties, be presented to the Queen, and go to Queen Charlotte's Ball which was the beginning of doing the season. My mother persuaded Ernest I must have a Coming Out party at the Park Lane hotel. I never queried it, so it took place. About eighty people were invited and we sat on tables of eight. We were all young people apart from one table where my Mother and Ernest sat with some of their friends. There was a cheerful band and everyone danced the night away. As it was my special night I had no lack of partners, but I did not have a boyfriend.
After this was the presentation to the Queen, and this had to be prepared for very carefully. In the first instance, you could only be presented to the Queen by someone who had already been presented to her. My mother knew a lady in our rather select road whose daughter had married well and been presented to the Queen, so she asked her to present me and she was happy to do so. You could not of course just arrive and be presented, you had to have lessons in how to curtsy properly as you must never turn your back on the Queen. Madame Vacani was supposed to be the best person to teach you about this, so I went to her. My mother was in a state of excitement for weeks beforehand and fortunately, the day passed happily without mishap.
After this was the presentation to the Queen, and this had to be prepared for very carefully. In the first instance, you could only be presented to the Queen by someone who had already been presented to her. My mother knew a lady in our rather select road whose daughter had married well and been presented to the Queen, so she asked her to present me and she was happy to do so. You could not of course just arrive and be presented, you had to have lessons in how to curtsy properly as you must never turn your back on the Queen. Madame Vacani was supposed to be the best person to teach you about this, so I went to her. My mother was in a state of excitement for weeks beforehand and fortunately, the day passed happily without mishap.
AT HOME
I then stayed at home. I wonder now what I did with myself. I know I played a lot of tennis and met some of my friends for coffee or lunch. But every single one of them were working at something. A few were becoming doctors, accountants and lawyers, and others were training to be nurses or secretaries, they were all doing something, except me. I did, in fact, do two courses at the Cordon Bleu cookery school in Marylebone Lane, and a flower arranging course at Constance Spry’s school at Winkfield Place near Windsor. I then persuaded my mother to let me do a secretarial course locally, but I was only allowed to go for the mornings. The Polish tutor was particularly kind, she knew my situation and always kept the afternoon’s work for me to take home the following day, and somehow I managed to achieve the certificate.
I used to go up to London weekly to meet friends in their lunch hour. They all had plenty to chatter about, maybe grumbling about their work and reciting funny stories. I imagine I must have been bored at home, and one day I was coming back after meeting a friend and I found myself at Piccadilly Circus en route for Charing Cross station. The store Swan and Edgar was situated right on the Circus on the corner next to Regent Street, and it must have been on a whim that I went in and found what would have been the equivalent of Customer Service and asked if they had any jobs going. I was directed to the lingerie department and found my way up there. Confronting me in the department were a mass of heavily boned corsets, the like of which I had never seen before. The head of the department looked me up and down and told me they were looking for someone and how soon could I start. I said next week and I was engaged. I won’t say I was over the moon, but I had a certain sense of satisfaction.
Once home I told my mother what I had done and I was not surprised that she was somewhat displeased. Ernest too did not want his step-daughter to work as a saleslady, so Swan and Edgar were phoned the following morning and my mother told the head of the lingerie department that it had been a big mistake on my part to apply for the job. I had one more attempt at a job when we went on a cruise to some of the Mediterranean countries. My parents became quite friendly with one of the lecturers, a Professor Kinchin-Smith, he was a specialist in Greece history at the University of London. The four of us would meet after dinner in one of the ship’s lounges. He happened to mention his wife had died and his academic papers were in a bit of a muddle, and he needed someone to help him sort them out. I was keen to do this and it was agreed I would go up to his office at the University once a week. When I arrived the first time it was about 10 am, and he immediately delved into one of his bottom drawers and produced a bottle of ouzo, saying “Would you like a little drinkie?”. I have to say I did not know what to do, I said no and we did a bit of sorting out. I had to tell my mother and needless to say, she put an end to this too.
I used to go up to London weekly to meet friends in their lunch hour. They all had plenty to chatter about, maybe grumbling about their work and reciting funny stories. I imagine I must have been bored at home, and one day I was coming back after meeting a friend and I found myself at Piccadilly Circus en route for Charing Cross station. The store Swan and Edgar was situated right on the Circus on the corner next to Regent Street, and it must have been on a whim that I went in and found what would have been the equivalent of Customer Service and asked if they had any jobs going. I was directed to the lingerie department and found my way up there. Confronting me in the department were a mass of heavily boned corsets, the like of which I had never seen before. The head of the department looked me up and down and told me they were looking for someone and how soon could I start. I said next week and I was engaged. I won’t say I was over the moon, but I had a certain sense of satisfaction.
Once home I told my mother what I had done and I was not surprised that she was somewhat displeased. Ernest too did not want his step-daughter to work as a saleslady, so Swan and Edgar were phoned the following morning and my mother told the head of the lingerie department that it had been a big mistake on my part to apply for the job. I had one more attempt at a job when we went on a cruise to some of the Mediterranean countries. My parents became quite friendly with one of the lecturers, a Professor Kinchin-Smith, he was a specialist in Greece history at the University of London. The four of us would meet after dinner in one of the ship’s lounges. He happened to mention his wife had died and his academic papers were in a bit of a muddle, and he needed someone to help him sort them out. I was keen to do this and it was agreed I would go up to his office at the University once a week. When I arrived the first time it was about 10 am, and he immediately delved into one of his bottom drawers and produced a bottle of ouzo, saying “Would you like a little drinkie?”. I have to say I did not know what to do, I said no and we did a bit of sorting out. I had to tell my mother and needless to say, she put an end to this too.
CONVERSION AND LIFE WITH DAVID
An unexpected incident in my life at this point was to change it. A friend of my mother asked if she could take me to Hildenborough Hall in Kent for a week. At this time this was an evangelical Christian holiday centre. A large house with substantial grounds it was the perfect place for young people to meet and enjoy themselves. The owners and their staff made a big effort to make the week fun for everyone, and for an only child, this certainly was. After a day of laughter and games, we had a more serious talk in the evenings. This was always about God and our need to become Christians and have our sins forgiven. For a girl who had had little experience of the world, I was a sitting duck, and I came home a very fervent Christian. I told my mother and she admitted she had let her Christian faith drop and she would like to come to church with me, she even persuaded Ernest to join the church too. So we became regular churchgoers, sitting in our reserved pews near the front of the church.
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I joined in the activities of the Youth Fellowship and it was not long before a new leader, David, arrived. He had come from a Plymouth Brethren background. By that time I was the secretary for the group. A week or so later he told me he needed to find a suitable location for the group to have a Saturday walk in the country, and could I help him. I agreed. He arrived in his rather snazzy TR2, and we went off for the day and talked about the Youth Fellowship. We stopped at a very nice country hotel for our lunch, and after this, we went out several times. I was not thinking of him or anyone else romantically, but I went over to his house a couple of times for lunch and dinner and met his parents, and he came over to my house too. One evening when he had come for dinner we left my parents in the living room and went up to my den. It was then that he made a move and asked me to marry him. It seemed the right thing to do and so I agreed and felt comfortable doing this. It was quite late when he went home and I crept into my parent's room as I knew they would be asleep, and I woke my mother and told her. I think she was a bit surprised as we had not known each other very long.
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David
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Naturally, both sets of parents had to meet. David’s were ecstatic as he was now 30 and still living at home. My mother was a little more reserved, but once she had met David’s family and seen they had a house almost as big as ours, and that his father was the Managing Director of the Delta Metal Co. she softened up considerably. As you would expect an extravagant wedding was planned, it was to be at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, the church in London where society weddings took place. The creation of this wedding needed the involvement of many people. The wedding dress required numerous trips around the London stores, bridesmaids had to be chosen very carefully, and the reception at the Dorchester was planned in the greatest detail. All this did not seem unusual to me as it fitted in with our normal lifestyle. My slender and beautiful mother looked fantastic on the day in a figure-hugging deep turquoise dress with a navy motif running through it. I had an incredible gold and cream brocade dress, When altered slightly I wore it on evening occasions many times afterwards.
Our honeymoon was spent in a small village in southern Spain, now a big town. I must have learned something from the Cordon Bleu as I was renowned as a good cook, but this is all past tense now and a long-forgotten art. I would entertain David’s business colleagues with no trouble, and when European visitors came they were invited too. The company had associates in the States and when they were here, always with their wives, I had to be available to take them around the London sites or other places of interest. When David went to the States on business I always went with him.
I am not sure how we got into dancing, but we did and went up once a week to the Regency School of Dancing in London to learn Ballroom and Latin. I even achieved a silver medal in Ballroom and a gold in Latin. Now I find I am no good at set steps at all, having later discovered the joy of moving more freely.
Our honeymoon was spent in a small village in southern Spain, now a big town. I must have learned something from the Cordon Bleu as I was renowned as a good cook, but this is all past tense now and a long-forgotten art. I would entertain David’s business colleagues with no trouble, and when European visitors came they were invited too. The company had associates in the States and when they were here, always with their wives, I had to be available to take them around the London sites or other places of interest. When David went to the States on business I always went with him.
I am not sure how we got into dancing, but we did and went up once a week to the Regency School of Dancing in London to learn Ballroom and Latin. I even achieved a silver medal in Ballroom and a gold in Latin. Now I find I am no good at set steps at all, having later discovered the joy of moving more freely.
MEETING MY FATHER
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My mother was wanting me to have children, and Ernest kept asking ”When is the little boy coming along?” I think he had been living with two women and wanted some male company. Regrettably, he died a few months before my son Kevin was born. About two years after Kevin’s birth I found I was wanting to know my real father. I approached a Detective Agency and they found him, and he was living only an hour and a half by car from me. They gave me his phone number and address and I decided to phone him up. I did not know if he had married again and I wondered who would answer the phone, but it was a male voice and I just said: “It’s Patricia”. He was absolutely astounded to hear from me and we decided to meet for lunch at the Civil Service Club in London. Something stopped me telling my mother, and it was perfectly natural for me to often go up to London as I had an excellent lady who came to look after Kevin once a week.
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My son, Kevin
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Max, my father
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My father and I met for lunch and as I had not seen him for nearly twenty years, and very little before this, it was like meeting a stranger. He was a very quiet, simple man, content with his lot, and happy doing a repetitive job for over thirty-five years. Not at all ambitious, he just wanted a peaceful uncomplicated life. But finding his long lost daughter engendered a yearning in him to keep seeing her. So I used to go down to Heathfield in Sussex every few weeks and give him my news. I met his wife too and she was always welcoming and pleased to see me. Looking back I feel it must have been so sad for him to lose his one child, and then to find that she was living a life far removed from his own. I kept in touch with him until he died. By then Kevin was at school and so I was able to visit him in hospital right until the end. I am glad I got in touch with him as it meant he had a connection with his daughter in his later years, he deserved this I did eventually tell my mother and I could see she was none too pleased, so I did not mention it when I went to see my father.
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CLINICAL THEOLOGY
When Kevin was nine he went to a lovely preparatory school in Derbyshire where he was very happy. The Head and his wife had created a relaxed atmosphere there, and Kevin went on to Abbotsholme school later on. This was also a happy school, stress was placed on each pupil becoming themselves, and they were not too over pressurised academically. Kevin did well and went on to read Physics at Manchester University.
I am not sure where the time went during Kevin’s teenage years. I remember doing training in Modern Dance and I played a lot of tennis. David and I were still very much involved with our local evangelical church. But things were to change as this became a time of personal development for me. I was having a few doubts and reservations about Christianity. It was then that our curate told us about a Clinical Theology course that was starting near us, and we both attended this course for three years. The final year was in Manchester as we had moved there for David’s new appointment as Chief Executive Officer of the Equal Opportunities Commission.
Clinical Theology was developed by Dr Frank Lake, originally a medical missionary in India. Later he trained in psychiatry and during this time he noticed that the clergy were not truly effective in helping parishioners with troubled minds. He founded the Clinical Theology Association in 1962 and started giving seminars, and by the time of his death, thousands of people had taken these seminars. His seminars, where confidentiality and trust were built, drew not only the clergy but many professional and everyday people too. It was a time of personal growth for many and a recognition that one’s frailties were a natural part of life. Later Dr Lake’s research went even further than this, he found that an unborn child in the womb could be affected negatively if the mother experienced an inopportune or tragic event during her pregnancy: a car or incidental accident, or an unplanned pregnancy could have similar repercussions. Not everyone agreed with him but those that did felt an immeasurable sense of relief and freedom
He firmly believed that his ideas were not only for devout Christians but for everyone. Until this time the clergy were trying to set an example of living the perfect life. Now they could admit they were flawed and had their individual limitations, and this allowed them to find immense release in their work. So indeed did many laypeople, including me. Dr Frank Lake's model was based on a young child drawing love and nourishment from their mother and family, as this strengthens them as adults to cope with life’s knocks. Without this, a child can enter adulthood and falter, unable to cope with setbacks and obstacles that come their way.
I am not sure where the time went during Kevin’s teenage years. I remember doing training in Modern Dance and I played a lot of tennis. David and I were still very much involved with our local evangelical church. But things were to change as this became a time of personal development for me. I was having a few doubts and reservations about Christianity. It was then that our curate told us about a Clinical Theology course that was starting near us, and we both attended this course for three years. The final year was in Manchester as we had moved there for David’s new appointment as Chief Executive Officer of the Equal Opportunities Commission.
Clinical Theology was developed by Dr Frank Lake, originally a medical missionary in India. Later he trained in psychiatry and during this time he noticed that the clergy were not truly effective in helping parishioners with troubled minds. He founded the Clinical Theology Association in 1962 and started giving seminars, and by the time of his death, thousands of people had taken these seminars. His seminars, where confidentiality and trust were built, drew not only the clergy but many professional and everyday people too. It was a time of personal growth for many and a recognition that one’s frailties were a natural part of life. Later Dr Lake’s research went even further than this, he found that an unborn child in the womb could be affected negatively if the mother experienced an inopportune or tragic event during her pregnancy: a car or incidental accident, or an unplanned pregnancy could have similar repercussions. Not everyone agreed with him but those that did felt an immeasurable sense of relief and freedom
He firmly believed that his ideas were not only for devout Christians but for everyone. Until this time the clergy were trying to set an example of living the perfect life. Now they could admit they were flawed and had their individual limitations, and this allowed them to find immense release in their work. So indeed did many laypeople, including me. Dr Frank Lake's model was based on a young child drawing love and nourishment from their mother and family, as this strengthens them as adults to cope with life’s knocks. Without this, a child can enter adulthood and falter, unable to cope with setbacks and obstacles that come their way.
DIVERSE VIEWS LEADING TO DIVORCE
This course opened my rather closed mind to look at other ways of living, believing and thinking. Up until then, our social circle had mainly been from our local church or other religious groups. Now I was drawing away from this and making new friends with new ideas. This was difficult as David was digging more and more into the religious life and he was not happy with me doing this. By the time Kevin went to University, we had dissimilar views. It came to a head when he shocked me by saying that if I did not believe in his God the devil would come on our home. I felt I could not live with this in future years, and when Kevin left University and found a job in Norfolk I decided to leave him. I tried my level best to do this pleasantly and keep on good terms with him, but he was shattered and in no state to do this. I was 47 and we had been married for twenty-six years.
I felt I should be the one to move away from the area as David was so attached to our local church, so I moved from Cirencester to Bath. Before this, I was hauled before the Bishop of Gloucester who put pressure on me to say I was moving to Bath only for my work and not to mention the divorce, but I could not agree to this. I moved to a small flat there and needed time to breathe as I was not sure where my life was going. Very soon after moving, I went on an art course at the University, and I met a man who attended the local Quaker meeting. Little did I know he was an eminent Quaker, and he encouraged me to attend the Bath Quaker meeting. I quite enjoyed the hour’s silence that is the way of the Quaker meeting each Sunday, and I went there for a few months.
I felt I should be the one to move away from the area as David was so attached to our local church, so I moved from Cirencester to Bath. Before this, I was hauled before the Bishop of Gloucester who put pressure on me to say I was moving to Bath only for my work and not to mention the divorce, but I could not agree to this. I moved to a small flat there and needed time to breathe as I was not sure where my life was going. Very soon after moving, I went on an art course at the University, and I met a man who attended the local Quaker meeting. Little did I know he was an eminent Quaker, and he encouraged me to attend the Bath Quaker meeting. I quite enjoyed the hour’s silence that is the way of the Quaker meeting each Sunday, and I went there for a few months.
marriage with tom
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During the divorce, we needed to have separate solicitors or accountants to deal with the money side. I had a retired banker, Tom, who was working part-time for a local accountants. Once I had moved to Bath we kept in touch as by then he was looking after my money, and he started to come to the Quaker meeting too. After a few months, Tom and I had become close friends and we decided to get married.
We were married very quietly at the United Reformed Church in Bristol, just the pastor and his wife and two of their friends as witnesses. We bought a lovely spacious apartment in central Bath and lived there for eight years. As Tom was 22 years older than me and retired he was happy for me to be doing things, and for him to quietly support me. |
Tom
Tom & myself
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THE MBTI
The next important period in my life was coming across the MBTI, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I was totally captivated by this questionnaire that reveals our strongest and best-developed attributes. It draws out our preferred way of observing the world around us, making our decisions and how we act on them. It explains why people are so different in their likes, responses, abilities and actions. There are sixteen ways in which our preferences are indicated, giving sixteen types. All the types are equally positive: but they are not equally proportioned as there are more of some types and less of others.
It was Carl Jung who proposed these concepts but he died before his work was published. Two American women, a mother and daughter, perused his work in detail and questioned thousands of people for a number of years before they published the MBTI. Their aim was that this questionnaire would be understandable and useful to everyone, and not an academic theory.
After attending many courses and also studying the developmental work of Professor David Keirsey I wrote a book called “Understanding your Personality”. When my book was published I spoke at various meetings and also on radio. I was also invited to lecture on the QE2, which I did several times. My book was well-received, and I went on to join Mensa and carry out a programme of research there: I followed this by giving a series of conferences around the country for members of Mensa and adapting the MBTI to a shorter and more anglicised questionnaire. I used this for the Mensa research. I repeated the research five years later, getting identical results, showing that the Mensa test is based on how you can use your literary and mathematical skills, and not your factual knowledge.
It was Carl Jung who proposed these concepts but he died before his work was published. Two American women, a mother and daughter, perused his work in detail and questioned thousands of people for a number of years before they published the MBTI. Their aim was that this questionnaire would be understandable and useful to everyone, and not an academic theory.
After attending many courses and also studying the developmental work of Professor David Keirsey I wrote a book called “Understanding your Personality”. When my book was published I spoke at various meetings and also on radio. I was also invited to lecture on the QE2, which I did several times. My book was well-received, and I went on to join Mensa and carry out a programme of research there: I followed this by giving a series of conferences around the country for members of Mensa and adapting the MBTI to a shorter and more anglicised questionnaire. I used this for the Mensa research. I repeated the research five years later, getting identical results, showing that the Mensa test is based on how you can use your literary and mathematical skills, and not your factual knowledge.
Laban MOVEMENT AND ABSTRACT PAINTING
When we were living in Birmingham I found a Laban class and immediately took to the type of movement taught there. I became so committed to this way of teaching that I followed a training course to become a Laban Leader. This qualified me to teach Laban movement and I taught several classes in Bath.
Rudolf Laban’s ideas were quite different from previous ones. He observed and studied the ways in which we humans use our bodies as we go about our daily lives. Working with these he evolved the 8 basic natural movements we use, he called these Efforts and it is from these 8 efforts that there is the freedom to move creatively. The difference between set movement and Laban movement is that we are free to use these movements in our own way, we are not pressurised to use them in set ways. We use them creatively which can be liberating. Now in my eighties, I still go through these 8 movements every morning, and I often explain these to other people. Although I loved exercise classes I was never good at following set specific actions.
The Laban Way
allows each person to interpret and move in the way they feel is appropriate for the music, the poem or the stimulus.
Another interest of mine became abstract painting. I had seen many of these paintings in art galleries, both here and abroad. I then had the good fortune to find Vanda Cook, an abstract artist of the 1950s, who was running yearly courses in Bath. I enrolled for a year and this motivated me to do my own work. Abstract work is not aimed at imitating reality, it is more how the artist's thoughts, ideas and feelings can be conveyed through shapes and marks. I have now compiled a body of work and continue to paint in this way.
Rudolf Laban’s ideas were quite different from previous ones. He observed and studied the ways in which we humans use our bodies as we go about our daily lives. Working with these he evolved the 8 basic natural movements we use, he called these Efforts and it is from these 8 efforts that there is the freedom to move creatively. The difference between set movement and Laban movement is that we are free to use these movements in our own way, we are not pressurised to use them in set ways. We use them creatively which can be liberating. Now in my eighties, I still go through these 8 movements every morning, and I often explain these to other people. Although I loved exercise classes I was never good at following set specific actions.
The Laban Way
allows each person to interpret and move in the way they feel is appropriate for the music, the poem or the stimulus.
Another interest of mine became abstract painting. I had seen many of these paintings in art galleries, both here and abroad. I then had the good fortune to find Vanda Cook, an abstract artist of the 1950s, who was running yearly courses in Bath. I enrolled for a year and this motivated me to do my own work. Abstract work is not aimed at imitating reality, it is more how the artist's thoughts, ideas and feelings can be conveyed through shapes and marks. I have now compiled a body of work and continue to paint in this way.
FRENCH
We had some very good friends in Bath who opened their beautiful garden to the public for a week once a year, some of their neighbours did this too. One year we were walking around one of the other gardens when I met a French lady who told me it was her daughter and son-in-law’s garden, and she was just visiting. She mentioned her daughter was a french teacher and I was immediately interested. How we managed this conversation I do not know as she did not speak a word of English and I did not speak a word of French! I had two years learning French with her daughter Elisabeth, and I took my A level at the Royal School in Bath. We then moved to Cheltenham to find a town that was not so hilly for Tom, and I lost Elisabeth as a teacher. But not as a friend as she is now one of my greatest friends and she will speak at my funeral. Elisabeth encouraged me to study for the DELF and DALF exams, the exams students take in France. I did this mainly from textbooks over the years, going up to the French Institute in London to sit the exams. I also attended a french class in Cheltenham for nearly fifteen years with Gena, a lovely french lady living in Cheltenham, and I still keep in touch with her. Also with my friends in both Bath and Cheltenham, I go back every year to meet with them.
TRAVELLING WITH TOM
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Tom and I were married for twenty-six years and we had many holidays abroad and in Europe. Tom had been in India in the Second World War and was keen to go back and see more of the country. We went on a wonderful tour with twelve other people and this was an amazing experience.
India is like no other country - the buildings, the colour, the philosophy and the culture are unique. We also visited countries in Europe and especially France. We went to Paris, la Rochelle, Tours and the Loire, and frequently to Nice and its many nearby towns like Menton and Juan-les-Pins. I love France and its language and Tom loved the country too. As he got older I would go on my own and I had a memorable trip to Egypt which included a boat trip down the Nile.
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Tom & myself on our patio
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TOM’S DEPARTURE
Tom was amazing right through his eighties but once in his nineties his health slowly went downhill. Many medical appointments and hospital visits were needed. We had already had a stairlift installed in our home, but eventually, we decided to move to a flat. We found a lovely apartment in Cheltenham and Tom went to his daughter’s for three days while I managed the move. Regrettably, he fell every night while he was there as their bathroom was not adjacent to his bedroom. After the third fall, he was taken into hospital and he never came home. He then spent four months in a happy and caring Catholic Care Home,I was so impressed with the young polish girls who looked after him, they were absolutely marvellous. He fell unconscious with a stroke one day and he died thirty-six hours later. What was so good was that he had his mind right until the very end. He was 96.
Tom wanted a woodland funeral and had already bought a double plot for both of us at Woodlands Memorial, south of Bristol. It is a beautiful natural green site with open views. The graves are put in circles of eight and a tree is planted on each one. You are able to use the building for the service in any way you wish. You can rearrange the seating and either have Christian symbols or anything else you wish. Instead of pews in the usual rows, I had individual seats arranged so that people could face each other, I felt this was so much more personal.
Not too many people were there as when you live to 96 your friends have already gone. His 3 children were all hesitant about speaking in public, so I spoke about him at his funeral and was happy to do so. As Tom has bought a double grave for us both I will, of course, be buried with him at Woodlands Memorial.
Tom wanted a woodland funeral and had already bought a double plot for both of us at Woodlands Memorial, south of Bristol. It is a beautiful natural green site with open views. The graves are put in circles of eight and a tree is planted on each one. You are able to use the building for the service in any way you wish. You can rearrange the seating and either have Christian symbols or anything else you wish. Instead of pews in the usual rows, I had individual seats arranged so that people could face each other, I felt this was so much more personal.
Not too many people were there as when you live to 96 your friends have already gone. His 3 children were all hesitant about speaking in public, so I spoke about him at his funeral and was happy to do so. As Tom has bought a double grave for us both I will, of course, be buried with him at Woodlands Memorial.
LIFE AFTER TOM
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About 15 months after Tom died I met Tony. He had been a pilot with Qantas and had lived on Lake Como in Italy since he retired. He was buying a place in Torquay. After he moved I visited him several times and decided to move there too. But Tony found he missed Italy, and after a year he returned there to live. I have been over to see him a number of times, and Tony has driven me around northern Italy. He has taken me to a number of wonderful operas at La Scala, Milan, the Arena di Verona at Verona, and the Gran Teatro Puccini at Torre del Lago. Also to some fabulous restaurants, including Ristorante Papa Francesco in Milan, the Antica Bottega del Vino and the Twelve Apostles in Verona. At the Twelve Apostles, the desserts arrive on three trolleys with about ten desserts on each one!
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Tony and Magno2 in the snow in Austria
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FRENCH AGAIN, AND WRITING BOOKS
Since moving to Torquay I have been fortunate to have met so many interesting people. Much of this is due to Helen Brenton who started a french speaking social group. We have about 50 members, and this has proved an opportunity not only to keep my french up, but it has also been the means of meeting people who have become my close friends.
The Raj, The Rolls and The RemorseI have also written a book about my mother's extraordinary life, "The Raj, the Rolls and the Remorse". She grew up in Darjeeling in India with 7 brothers, it was a strict catholic upbringing that left little leeway for human frailties. The book has had 5* reviews and touched many people.
Bark, BarkI have written another book, called "Bark, Bark - this is my Life - and yours too". This is an uncomplicated philosophy tale related by a Newfoundland dog with a human voice. He relates his life story from before birth until he dies, the ups and the downs, and we find that it is our own human story too.
published 31st March 2021
I have also written.
Understanding Your PersonalityAre you happier to base your decisions on facts or intuition? Do you like to work to deadlines, or at your own pace? Do you prefer to make plans, or go with the flow?
Reading this book you will become aware of how your own pattern of behaviour differs from some of those you come across, and this can account for many of our misunderstandings with each other. We can feel comfortable with our own patterns, and discovering other ways of living may be an eye-opener for us. |
Understanding Your Personality
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TOWARDS THE END...
I can look back on life and feel happy and contented now. I hope I bring some interest and enjoyment to the people I meet.
