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CHAPTER EIGHT
ELLEN MILLS (née Roff)
AND
MY STEP-GRANDAD, ARTHUR JOY.

As I said before, my Dad reckoned that his own father, John Mills and his step-father, Arthur Joy, had been shipmates who had sailed together on the same ships.

Somewhere along the line, I had got the impression that they had both started out together on the same training ship, i.e., the Warspite, which was moored on the Thames. However, I have since discovered that that  wasn’t the case, and the very earliest that they could have met ---- and started sailing together ---- was in June 1902 when both men found themselves posted to HMS Pembroke at Chatham.  On the next couple of pages I have included copies of both Arthur Joy’s Service Record, and  the one belonging to my true Grandfather, John Mills.  In that way, the two men’s records can be compared side by side, to see all the vessels that they were posted to, and particularly the vessels that they were posted to together.

At the time my Grandad and Arthur Joy first met up, in 1902, my Gran and Grandad were still single.

Had my Gran and Grandad met by then ?    I don’t really know, but my ‘gut feeling’ is,  that they probably had!

Was it possible that my Gran might have met both men before her marriage to my Grandad?

Perhaps whilst  my Grandad was courting her, she was introduced to his friend Arthur Joy.  If the two men were that friendly, it is quite on the cards that Arthur Joy did meet my Gran at some stage ---- possibly when the two men were on leave, or maybe when she was on a trip to Chatham to see her boy-friend . Who knows?

I did wonder if the person who might have acted as my Grandad’s best man, on his wedding day, could have been Arthur Joy, and perhaps signed himself as a witness  on their marriage certificate, (see copy on Page 2). Unfortunately  neither of the witnesses signatures is Arthur Joy’s  ----  one was an M.E. Purvis ---- and the other was an A.G. Taylor. I  therefore wonder if Arthur Joy was even present at their wedding!

ROYAL NAVAL SERVICE RECORD
IN RESPECT OF MY PATERNAL STEP-GRANDFATHER,  ARTHUR JOY.

I was told, that my Grandad, John Mills, was supposed to sail with his shipmate, Arthur Joy, out of Chatham in the latter part of November 1906.  Grandad sailed out on the 27^th November  aboard HMS Irresistible heading towards the Mediterranean and ultimately Turkey.  However, Arthur Joy, who also sailed out of Chatham on that same day, was aboard another ship, called HMS  Pegasus.  As has already been said, my Dad reckoned that one of them missed the sailing of the ship that they were posted to, hence the reason they sailed on different ships at that time.  What isn’t clear, is which one of them missed the sailing, and as a consequence had to be  re-posted aboard another ship. If that was the case, whichever one missed the original sailing, could have only missed it by  an hour or so at the most.

Of all the methods of transport, without a doubt the only one that never seems to delay its departure time, is shipping ---- and always seems to arrive at its destination on time. In the commercial world, that has a lot to do with ‘money lost’ if a ship is delayed in port, but also the state of tides also have a bearing on when a vessel must leave port.  The fact that a member of the crew does not arrive on board in time for the vessel’s departure, is not really considered as being a good enough reason for delaying the ship.

Again, from my own National Service days in Malta, it was always amusing to watch the  antics of drunken sailors, or soldiers from ships moored in Grand Harbour, who had arrived at the quay-side too late to catch the last liberty boat back to their vessel.  There were seldom more than a dozen late arrivals ---- but some would dive fully clothed into the harbour and swim out to the ship, whilst others would try and steal a dghajsa  ( pronounced ‘dicer’).  These were brightly painted Maltese rowing-boats which were propelled by their owner standing in the stern ‘waggling’ an oar from side to side. There was always some sort of Maltese ‘watchman’ that would appear out of the darkness to prevent the theft, upon which, much shouting and swearing would resound from the quayside until some ‘amicable’ deal was arrived at to row the men back to their ships. In guide books, this aggressive and ungentlemanly conduct used to be referred to as ‘good- natured bargaining’!

Anyway,  my Grandad set off  in HMS Irresistible, and Arthur Joy sailed away in  HMS Pegasus.  When my Grandad’s accident occurred on 25 September 1907,  Arthur Joy was still aboard the Pegasus, steaming towards heaven knows where!

Quite how soon he got to learn of his friend’s death is unknown.  To me, it is most unlikely that he received the news directly from my Gran, as I doubt very much that she was in the habit of writing to him.  News has always travelled fast at sea ---- especially when it was bad news.  It’s quite likely that the telegraph or radio officer aboard Pegasus ‘overheard’ a message being relayed from Grandad’s ship, HMSS Imogene, or received a piece of ‘ship’s gossip’ from a telegraph/radio officer on another ship.  This snippet of information might then have been passed to the crew  of the Pegasus, thus finally reaching the ears of Arthur Joy.

Whether or not this is just pure fantasy on my part, I cannot really say ---- but since I cannot see any reason for Arthur Joy to have been notified officially, or told by my Grandmother, of Grandad’s death ---- how else would he have learned of the accident?

On the 22 October 1907, not quite a month after Grandad’s accident, Arthur Joy transferred to another ship, namely HMS Powerful, which is shown in the following picture.

When she was built in the mid 1890’s, she was one of the largest cruisers in the world, and was built at Barrow-in-Furness by the Naval Construction and Armaments Company.  She started her service in the China Station in 1899 and later became famous for landing naval brigades at the Cape  ---- along with her sister-ship HMS Terrible ----  whilst playing their part in the relief of Ladysmith during the Boer War.  Mind you, my old ‘Pop’ wasn’t serving with the vessel at that time

Compared to the Pegasus, she was massive, with a displacement of 14,200 tons,  a complement of 894 men , and had a speed of 22 knots. Her armaments comprised 2 x 9.2 ins guns; 12 x 6 ins guns; 16 quick-firing 12 pounders;  12 quick- firing 3 pounders; plus 4 x 18 ins Torpedo tubes (submerged).

‘Pop’ Joy was only aboard that ship for just under six weeks, when, on the 1 December 1907, he was transferred onto yet another ship. HMS Encounter.

Had he heard the news of his friend’s death by then?

On  his service record there is a note alongside his date of transfer onto the Encounter, which reads ‘Coming Home’!

Why was he coming home?  No reason is given on his service record ---- it’s just a statement on its own!  Was it just one of those ‘lucky coincidences’ that he was being sent home at that time ---- or had he requested to go home ?

A month later, on the 1^st  January 1908, he had transferred from the Encounter  onto HMS Dido, which finally brought him back to the Royal Naval Barracks at Chatham.  He arrived back there on the 8^th February 1908, and was invalided out of the Navy on the 9^th April 1908.
 

What caused Pop to be ‘invalided out’ is not known. Was it an ‘excuse’ to terminate his service early, without having to ‘buy’ himself out?  After all, just over seven months after his discharge from the Royal Navy, he was married to Gran.  Surely he couldn’t have known before he got back to England, that he and Gran would get married!   It still begs the question as to whether or not he and Gran had met one another prior to my Grandad’s demise, and if so,  exactly how well did they know one another?

By thinking along these lines I am not saying that Arthur Joy and my Gran were having some sort of relationship before my Grandad lost his life, because I could be so very wrong! It could just as easily be that Arthur Joy suffered some mishap at sea which required that he was returned  to England, for discharge on medical grounds.

Anyway, whatever the reason for him coming out of the Navy at that time, it was probably quite propitious for Gran and my Dad.

He must have contacted and visited  Gran almost soon as his ship arrived back to Chatham.  Presumably his company  must have been  well received by her, because, by the time they  married on the 23 November 1908, she  was already  four months pregnant. This wasn’t something that I had known about, and it was only revealed to me when my cousin Anne mentioned the fact in one of her letters.  Apparently it was Anne’s mother that originally discovered the fact after Gran’s death. It was only on finding her parent’s marriage certificate, together with her own birth certificate that she realised her Mum ( Gran) was already halfway through her pregnancy when she married Arthur Joy. It seems that Anne’s mum ---- Caroline ( Carrie) ---- was quite upset on discovering this, and had to be consoled by Anne.
 

Being born out of wedlock ---- ‘or having to get married because you were expecting’ ---- has been a stigma throughout history. Even in the 1960’s at the time when Gran died, and my Aunt Carrie found out that possibly her parents  may have ‘had to get married’, it was a situation that was still very ‘frowned upon’.  The shock of finding out would have been quite upsetting to her.  Fortunately ---- in some respects ---- the attitude has changed during my lifetime, and nowadays doesn’t hold the stigma that it once did, and seems altogether much kinder on the child and the mother.

Anyway, when they married, Arthur Joy’s address was given on their certificate as being at N^o. 23, York Terrace, Cheam. Gran’s address  was said to be at 40, Beulah Road, Sutton. Presumably, she was living there with my Dad.

Their marriage took place at St Mary’s Catholic Church in Sutton, where the ceremony was performed by Father James V. Warwick, and witnessed by  a Catherine Roff and  someone  called, F. Morgan.  The Catherine Roff who acted as a witness to the ceremony could not write, and merely made her ‘mark’ with  an ‘X’.  She could either have been Gran’s mother, or perhaps Gran’s sister who was also called Catherine, and was a year younger than Gran.

The other witness had me perplexed, in so far as I couldn’t remember  the name  of Morgan being mentioned in the family.  Later, my cousin Anne, in another of her letters telling me about Arthur Joy, (who was her true maternal Grandad), mentioned that his sister Ada, had married a man called Fred Morgan.  So I take it that it was Arthur Joy’s brother-in-law, Fred Morgan, who was the other witness.

Having married my Gran, Arthur Joy, automatically become my Step-Grandad on the day that I was born. However, I cannot ever remember thinking of him as being anything other than my Grandad. ---- other than nowadays, when I am involved in researching my Dad’s family background.  Consequently,  I grew up  knowing him as ‘Pop’ Joy and  had the good fortune to be able to share him with my cousin Anne.

Unfortunately I have no pictures of  Pop as a boy, or as a young man in his sailor’s uniform. Nor do I have a picture of  Gran and Pop on their wedding day, which is a shame really.

Quite where they lived after their marriage, I’m not wholly certain!  However, I have a pretty strong feeling that they must have lived at 40, Beulah Road, Cheam, for several years before moving to Penge ---- which was the address that Gran had given as being her place of residence at the time she married Pop.

My only reason for  thinking this, is the fact that my Dad had a life-long friend called William (Bill) Eade, who also lived in Cheam.  Until I started looking into my Dad’s family background I had sometimes wondered how my Dad, who, to my mind had lived in Penge all of his childhood, had a life-long friend who lived in Cheam.  Having said that, I only ever gave the matter a cursory thought, and certainly never raised the question with my Dad or my ‘uncle’ Bill.

It wasn’t until I realized that  Gran and my Dad had lived at Beulah Road, Cheam, that half-remembered conversations with my Dad and my ‘uncle’ began to make sense.  In fact, I had known from a very young age that they had, as children, lived practically next door to one another in Beulah Road ---- and went to the same school.

My ‘uncle’ Bill had, for some reason, lived with, and was brought up by, his Grandmother ---- whom, if my memory serves me correctly ---- was known to me as either Grannie Hoath ( or ‘Oath’).  I’m pretty certain  she was his maternal grandmother, since if she had been his paternal grandmother her surname would probably have been ‘Eade’, the same as his!  I seem to remember her as being  a very old lady, who had an enormous purple pimple ---- the size of an egg ---- situated on the bridge of her nose. She was quite friendly towards me, but I must admit, I wasn’t too keen on being up close to her nose when she kissed me ‘hello’ or ‘cheerio’!

Since the boys went to school together, it seems that my Dad, Gran and Pop probably lived in Beulah Road from 1908 when Gran and Pop married, until about 1915 when Pop went to work at a power station in Beckenham, Kent.

The only picture that I have which shows them together in a fairly relaxed pose, is one that was possibly taken in the late1920’s / early 1930’s. when they were probably in their late forties. According to a note scribbled on the back it was taken on a ‘Wednesday’ whilst holidaying in Newton Abbot.

In the April of 1909, Gran gave birth to a daughter, Caroline Joy who became my Dad’s half-sister. I only have one picture of them together as young children.  It  was probably taken c. 1912, when my Dad was about 8 years old and his sister, Carrie, was about 4 years of age.

Although Pop was not my true Grandad, he was a very likeable man, and I thought the world of him.  I know my Dad never had any complaints about him.  I recall him telling me ---- when I asked him what he knew about his own father and whether he felt any regrets about having Pop as a step-father ---- that he never thought of Pop as being anything but his true father.  Pop had always treated him fairly, and didn’t seem to show any favouritism towards his sister Carrie, sister, who was, of course, Pop’s own flesh and blood !

Evidently the only time Pop disagreed with something that my Dad wanted to do --- and put his foot down rather forcibly --- was when my Dad told him that he wanted to join the Navy.  Pop, apparently went off alarmingly and told my Dad that he was not to join the Navy. He reckoned it was a very hard life at sea, not to be recommended, and fraught with dangers.  He didn’t want any son of his to put up with what he had endured. Whether Pop really thought that, or whether Gran had intimated to him that she didn’t want her son to end up like his father ---- drowned in some distant sea ---- is anyone’s guess!

I don’t know if Gran did get Pop to discourage my Dad from going into the Navy, but it is a possibility, especially when I link it to something Gran told me off about many years later.

Although I very rarely got  a serious telling off from Gran there was one occasion, shortly after I came home from doing my National Service, that caused her to speak sternly to me. It was concerning something I’d done whilst I was in the army. Something, which she felt I had been particularly stupid and thoughtless about!

A couple of months before I left Malta,  myself, and three of my army pals, built a couple of two-seater canoes to paddle our way around the Maltese coastline. We successfully built the canoes ---- which to our amazement actually floated ---- and set off on our expedition. Unfortunately we met with a minor ‘disaster’ whilst taking a short cut across the mouth of St Paul’s Bay. It was ostensibly a short three-quarter mile paddle across the mouth, whereas keeping to the coastline would have added best part of a couple of miles to our paddling. Unfortunately, the sea was particularly choppy at that point, the canoes shipped loads of water and both of them overturned  about a quarter of a mile from the shore.  I was sitting in the front of one canoe, with my legs stretched out under the covered bow.  Also tucked into that space, wedging me in, was a multitude of kit, blankets and ground-sheets, which limited the ability to move my legs easily.

When our canoe capsized, the chap sitting behind me was automatically jettisoned into the sea,  and consequently popped to the surface like a cork. He then clung to the upturned canoe, looking for me!  Meanwhile, I was stuck upside down, underwater, and with my legs jammed tightly in the canoe. I was also unable to roll the canoe into an upright position because of  the chap on the surface was clinging  onto the upturned hull. After what seemed an eternity, but was really only seconds, I extricated myself, and surfaced alongside the canoe.  Our friends in the other canoe, seeing our plight, paddled  to help us, only to find themselves suddenly put into the same predicament.

It was only then, that panic hit us.!  We were, at most, about a quarter of a mile off shore, which was well within our swimming capabilities.  It was not so much  the possibility of drowning and losing our lives that caused us to panic, but more  the thought of surviving the incident, and having to explain away the various losses of army equipment which at that moment seemed to be floating off in all directions. Fortunately we managed to save everything, with the exception of one plimsoll; thus escaping a fate worth than death by not having to confess to our quarter-master, and being made to pay for lost kit.

In my eyes it had merely been an adventure that had gone slightly wrong, and was something  to write home about. Consequently, having written home, I didn’t think any more about it, especially since I was due to be demobbed in a couple of months. Getting home, and getting out of the army, were the most important things on my mind at that time!

Gran on the other hand had been told of the ‘Great Canoe Disaster’, and on my first visit to see her after getting back to England she gave me a very definite telling off ---- although at the time, I couldn’t understand why she was so uptight about it !  It was   years later, long after she’d died that I suddenly understood the reason for her outburst with me, when ‘the penny dropped’ in my mind, that her first husband had been drowned in an accident at sea. Presumably my crazy, albeit innocent, adventure must have triggered unhappy memories in her mind. If that was the case, then I am truly sorry that  my ‘lack of thought’ caused her any distress.

Anyway, let me get back to Pop once again!  After Pop came out of the Navy in 1908, he got himself a job at Sutton Power Station. Presumably, because he was working in Sutton and  was going to marry Gran,  they were the reasons why Gran and my Dad went to live in Beulah Road.

In 1915, Pop accepted a job as a driver at an electricity works in Beckenham, Kent,  where he stayed until his retirement in 1946. It was obviously  the job at Beckenham which caused the family to move from Cheam to 155, Parish Lane, Penge ---- which was where Gran and Pop were living when I was born.

According to a report which appeared in the Beckenham and Penge Advertiser, dated 15 August 1946, concerning Pop’s retirement a Mr. L.A. Gripper, an Electrical Engineer at the Beckenham works, paid tribute to him, and shows that ‘Mr Joy’s keenness and reliability’ , was much appreciated.  The article reads as follows:-

‘He was a man of out-standing character and a real craftsman.  All who had known him at the generating station would greatly miss him, for he had a personality that won esteem.’

The newspaper report also went on to say:-

 ‘ having first entered the power station as a driver, he ended up taking charge of everything to do with the running and maintenance of the electricity works.  He has seen the installation of new machinery, including the latest turbines, and the erection of the new destructor unit.’

At the time the family moved from Cheam to Penge in 1915,  my Dad was ten years old, and his sister, Carrie, was about six.  They both went to school, but Dad always admitted that he tended to waste his time at school, and always reckoned that his sister had paid more attention to her schoolwork, and  was much cleverer than he was. In his latter years Dad used to tell me that he regretted not taking his schoolwork more seriously.

In due course, my Dad met, and married my Mum, Florence May Dunsdon in 1930, and five years later, in 1935, his sister  Carrie married Kenneth Waters.  On the 8 February 1938, Carrie and Ken had a little girl, whom they called Anne ---- and a few months later, in the July of that year, my parents had me.

Both Anne and I were ‘only’ children, but we spent quite a lot of time together when we were young, and I have nothing but happy memories of our time together.  Although  we were once  fairly close cousins we haven’t seen each other for many a long year. In my mind’s eye, I think of her now, as the sister that I never had.   Quite how she thinks of me, is anyone’s guess !

 The reason that we saw so much of each other, was as much to do with the Second World War, as anything. The war started the year after we were born ---- although, I don’t think that it was our births contributed to the cause!

Anne’s father, was called up to serve in the army during the war, and spent best part of seven years in the Royal Signals regiment, serving abroad. In one of her letters to me, she recalled the fact that she was about  seven years old before she  got to see and  know her Dad, properly.  Her mother also worked during the war, as did my Mum. The only difference being I think that Anne’s mother worked away from home and therefore Gran and Pop seemed to play a big part in bringing her up. Like me, she adored Pop, and because her own father was away in the army, she told me that ‘Pop filled the breach admirably ---- and was a delightful man.’

I too, have only good memories of ‘Pop’ Joy. He was always full of fun, and used to pay me pocket money commensurate with the amount of trouble that I’d got into during the week.  Getting told off by Mum, was worth threepence ( 1½ p. in today’s money); torn trousers were worth sixpence (2½p.) ---- although I used also have to endure a smack from Mum for tearing them!  He also had an allotment, and said that I could earn myself an extra sixpence if I followed milkman or baker’s horse and carts and collected anything the horse deposited in the road.  I carried out that  task quite conscientiously for him, when I knew he was coming to pay us a visit.  Although I did this for some considerable time ---- and although he was always as good as his word with the payment ---- I suddenly realized that I’d never ever seen him taking the manure  back home with him, in a bucket, on the bus!  I don’t know that I ever tackled anybody on that point, but thereafter my forays into the fertilizer business died a sudden death, even though it caused an immediate drop in my finances.

I seem to recall visiting, Gran and Pop most Saturdays, and therefore  got to see and play with  Anne on those occasions.  Pop would make us giggle at the tea-table, by reciting one of his  rhymes.  At school I always had difficulty in learning poetry off by heart. However, Pop’s little poems were instantly accepted into my young mind and I couldn’t wait to get  back to school to repeat his ditties to my friends. One of his more popular ones, was always known to Anne and I as ‘When Mr. Brown goes out of town’, and went something like this :-

At this point, old Pop would noisily take in a long deep breath and continued the poem by gabbling away the next verse, listing all of the items Mrs ‘B’ would take.  Unfortunately, with the passage of time I cannot now recall the items involved ---- but at the time they seemed endless. All that I can remember now  is:-
 

And would finish up, pretending to be out of breath  with the last line
 

Another of his ditties was ‘Old Mother Riley, which, according to my Mother, was ‘not the sort of poem to repeated in polite company!’
 

At Christmas time  he would sometimes give us his version of the old Music Hall monologue, ‘It was Christmas Day in the Work-house’. That, was a personal favourite of mine.  I always loved the ending, when a pauper in the workhouse, having had to listen to a piece of sanctimonious claptrap from the man in charge, was finally given a tiny piece of Christmas Pudding, as a concession to it being Christmas.

Pop rarely said the word that rhymed with ‘brass’, if only for the fact that Gran would shout at him to stop. However, as young as we were, Anne and I were fully conversant with the unmentioned word ---- and would giggle uncontrollably at the veiled obscenity.

Somewhere, back in the mists of time,  I must have been  told that Pop  had been brought up in an orphanage from about the age of three, together with his brother Mark, and their sisters Ada and Sarah.

I know, prior to looking into my Dad’s family background, I’d sort of believed that my Grandad Mills and Pop Joy had joined the Navy at roughly the same time, albeit from different orphanages ---- which as it turned out wasn’t strictly true! Other than that, I hadn’t really given much thought to Pop’s background.

According to Anne, when Pop retired back in 1946 it was necessary for him to supply a copy of his birth certificate to prove his age, to enable him to receive his pension. Initially he had a job locating his birth registration under Arthur Joy, born on the 14 January 1881. Anne doesn’t know how he eventually managed to get a copy his birth certificate, but suspects that his half sister that was able to shed some light on the mystery for him.

I am told that Pop’s mother’s name was Serena Joy.  It seems that Serena was unable to marry Pop’s father ---- whose surname turned out to be ‘Kersley’ ---- as he was already married to Serena’s  sister, who had chosen to run off with another man, whom she subsequently married ---- albeit bigamously!

Quite what happened to ‘Kersley’, i.e. Pop’s father, isn’t known.  Nor for that matter, do I know for certain  whether, Pop’s brother’s and sisters ---- Mark, Ada and Sarah ---- were also Kersley’s off-spring. I am assuming that they were!

Pop’s mother  died of cancer when he was about 3 years old, and on her death,  Pop  and his siblings were placed in an orphanage at Crondall, Hampshire. They were all admitted under their mother’s surname of ‘Joy’.

Were they put into the orphanage because their father, Kersley had also died? Or ,was it that he could not, or did not want to bring them up on his own?

Whatever the reason Pop was admitted into the orphanage at Crondall, under his mother’s surname of ‘Joy’,  he grew up believing his surname was ‘Joy’.

Anne’s mother, Carrie, said that when Pop received his birth certificate he broke down in tears,  which also upset her as well, as it was the first time she had seen her father cry. Not only did it give his father’s surname as ‘Kersley’, it also showed that Pop had actually been born on the 12 August 1881, and not the 14 January 1881 as he had always believed. Quite where the 14 January  came from is anyone’s guess!

After the war was over, and Pop had moved on into retirement, he and Gran would sometimes take Anne and I out for the day to the seaside. We would go by train from Penge East railway station to places like Herne Bay, Margate, Broadstairs and  Ramsgate.  Little did I realize, in those far off days, as the train sped its way down to the coast,  that one day I would live in Rochester,  at the very point where I used to see flying boats moored on the River Medway.  Nor, for that matter, did I ever dream that I would one day be living just two to three miles from where my Grandad, John Mills, and Pop Joy were stationed at HMS Pembroke in Chatham.

I think that I can speak for both Anne and I  here, and say that we had some very enjoyable trips to the seaside and into the countryside with Gran and Pop.  Compared to going out with my parents when I was young ---- where I always felt that I had to be on my best behaviour ---- Gran and Pop,  were reasonably easy going and let me (and Anne) get away with things that would have been frowned on by Mum.  It was silly little things really; like walking under railway arches or bridges and being allowed to scream and shout just to hear our voices echo round the brickwork; to walk down the road eating an ice-cream.  With my Mum around, I always had to be sitting still if I was licking-away an ice-cream cornet.  Strange thing is, even today, at the ripe old age of 67, I still feel very strange and somewhat ‘naughty’ if I walk along  a road eating an ice-cream. But, if I am perfectly honest, I really do  prefer to sit down and eat it ‘properly’!

I only have a couple of photos of Anne and I together, as youngsters. Both were taken on a day trip to Margate. One with Anne and I on our own looking very happy, and the other with Gran and Pop, where everyone but me seems to be enjoying themselves

I can remember on one of our trips to Margate  Anne and I dug a very deep hole in the sand  where we had to be hauled up out of the hole by Pop.  Taking a break from our attempt to dig our way through to Australia, we disappeared off for a paddle in the sea. By the time we returned, we found poor old Pop manfully refilling our hole with the aid of a tiny metal spade. Apparently some sort of beach official had roused Pop from his reveries in a deck-chair, and forcibly pointed out that ‘the hole was a danger to all and sundry, and should be filled in immediately!’  I think Anne and I were a bit upset at seeing our hole being refilled ---- which might have been the reason I looked so fed up in the next picture.

During the war years, I think Anne lived with Gran and Pop at 155, Parish Lane, but I’m not really sure. For some reason, I don’t think her Mum (Carrie) was living with them at that time.  I know that she worked for a living, but  somewhere other than Penge. Consequently her Mum only got home occasionally.

However, after the war finished, and Anne’s Dad had returned from the army, her family moved into a house a few doors up from Gran and Pop at 159, Parish Lane.

 In 1946, because my Mum disappeared into hospital to have a kidney removed, and Dad had to go to work, I  went to live with Anne and her parents at ‘159’ for a few months. I even had to go to Anne’s school  for awhile. They all looked after me well, and generally made quite a fuss of me, but deep down I didn't like it, and I was glad when Mum eventually came out of hospital and I could go back home again. Mind you, one of the things I did particularly like was the fact that my Aunt Carrie used to make us ‘Cremola’ Baked Custard puddings ---- which I thought were absolutely fabulous. My Mum never ever made those!

I seem to recall during the time I was being looked after at ‘159’ poor old Pop had a bout of  carbuncles that came up on the back of his neck and also on the top of his bald head.  I don’t think we did it intentionally, but Anne and I always seemed to be around when Gran used to try and draw the ‘poisons’ out by applying hot Kaolin poultices to the multi-headed abscesses. The carbuncles on their own must have been very painful without Gran ministering to their needs with hot poultices. Gran wasn’t cruel but she was not as I remember the gentlest or most sympathetic person when it came to dealing with other people’s problems.  Pop used to wince and curse her for her occasional  heavy-handedness, but generally speaking he endured the pain and discomfort fairly stoically.

That was about the only time I ever saw Pop ‘ill’ so it came as a bit of a shock to me when Pop died unexpectedly on the 24 June 1954. He had a little part-time gardening job at a house in Blakeney Road, in Beckenham. On the morning of the 24^th  he went to tend the garden as usual, but he collapsed at work and passed away more or less instantly.  His death certificate shows that his cause of death was the result of a ‘Myocardial fibrosis due to a coronary atheroma’ ---- which was basically a heart attack!

It was a shock to me when I heard that he’d died, but it must have been even worse for Gran, my Dad, Aunt Carrie and Anne, who were that much closer to him than I was. Apparently, there hadn’t been any particular warning signs, although if my memory serves me correctly, Gran did pass comment that on and off  he had been complaining of a pain in one of his legs, which warranted him stopping whatever he was doing, to take a short rest.

Strangely, although I was one month short of being 16 years old, I never got to go to his funeral. I cannot even remember being asked if I wanted to go ---- nor do I recall any discussion about how the funeral went off.    I was still at school at that time ---- just! ---- so perhaps that was the reason I never got to go to the funeral. I have never seen his grave; in fact,  I never got to say  ‘goodbye’ to Pop in any way.

Anne’s Dad ---- my Uncle Ken ---- worked as an under-manager in John Lewis’s in Oxford Street; one of London’s big department stores.  In those days, stores like John Lewis, Bourne and Hollingsworth, Swann & Edgar and Selfridges were  absolutely fascinating, even for children.  Through my eyes they were ‘posh’ stores and had every conceivable thing that you were ever likely to want. Most had doormen of military bearing, who stood outside the store dressed in top-hat and ‘tails’, who would welcome customers into the store and  hold open the doors for them. The shop assistants too, were always  neatly attired in smart  uniforms They were helpful and polite to their customers addressing them as ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’ . Or, if the purchase was to be for an accompanied child, the child was always referred as ‘the young gentleman’ or ‘the young lady’, which always made you feel a little bit ‘special’ or ‘important’. Under-managers and Managers, used to patrol their departments, dressed  in black jackets and pin-striped trousers, looking very dignified, dispensing help and assistance to staff and customers as required. Uncle Ken, in his role as under-manager, was like that.  Sometimes when I had to go to up to London for ‘check-ups’ at the Middlesex Hospital, my Mum, Gran and I would pop into John Lewis’s, and occasionally would see Uncle Ken and sometimes he would have time to have a brief chat with us. When that happened, I felt really proud  that I had someone that was so impressive for an uncle.

Eventually, Uncle Ken, took up a new position with John Lewis, when they opened a branch in Winchester, and went to live there with my Aunt Carrie and  Anne. I went to stay with them for a short holiday.  They lived in what seemed to be an old house, with an enormous cellar ---- just across the road from a high stone wall which I believe belonged to Winchester Prison.  Anne showed me around Winchester itself  ---- the Cathedral, the College, the weirs and water meadows along the River Itchen. Although not a frequent visitor to Winchester, the memory of those few days spent there as a child, is something I remember with fondness.

I don’t know quite what the reason was, but in the mid 1950’s  Anne and her family returned to live with Gran at 155, Parish Lane, Penge.  Whether Uncle Ken had to come back to work in London, or whether it was for some other reason, I really don’t know!.  In some ways,  at least as far as Gran was concerned, it was possibly a fortuitous change of events. About that time, she began to suffer serious health problems and needed  constant care and attention, which under the circumstances fell squarely onto Aunt Carrie’s shoulders.  It must have been a worrying and trying time for her and her family, and I marvel at the way they coped.

My Mum and Aunt Carrie, were not at all alike, to all outward appearances they got on reasonably well together, but lurking below the surface they  seemed to have a few ‘differences’.  Quite why they didn’t always get on ---- I really don’t know!  From time to time they would both have their moments, and every so often in my adult life, one or other of them would air their recriminations to me.  I never ever knew the rights and the wrongs of their ‘problem’, and tried to keep out of any family bickering.  As far as I was concerned, although different in their way of going about things, they both had their good points ---- and I would not be drawn into taking sides. Having said that, on one occasion, I was caught on the ‘hop’, and was somewhat irritated by what I saw as thoughtless ‘sniping’!  I sometimes wonder whether my cousin Anne got the same sort of feeling about their relationship. Not that I really need to know! I had no  ‘axe to grind’, with either of them.

As we moved on into the mid-to-late 1950’s,  Anne and I saw less and less of each other. I disappeared between 1957 and 1959 to serve Queen and Country on some far flung piece of rock in the Mediterranean, (i.e. Malta), after which our lives took different turns. We both got married, and started families of our own and from then on, we lost touch with one another, although at one stage we were living no more than six or seven miles apart in Kent.  Sad to say that Anne and I haven’t seen each other in forty years, and never set eyes on our respective children.

Poor old Gran died on the 16 March 1964, at the age of 84, in Lennard Hospital, from a combination of Bronchopneumonia and Cerebral arterio scelerosis.

Strange to say, I do not remember attending her funeral, although I do have vague recollections of seeing Gran in her coffin at 155, Parish Lane. It was a very small coffin ---- she was only a little lady ---- and it had been placed on the oval table in what had been Gran’s front room. At one stage, various members of the family were sitting around the coffin, drinking cups of tea and chatting about her ---- it all seemed very odd to me at the time ---- and I cannot remember going to the cemetery for her service and burial.  Barbara, my wife, assures me that we did attend the funeral, in fact we went with our son, Kevin, who was just over a year old at the time.  She says she remembers it, because he didn’t cause any upheaval during the service.  I definitely don’t remember going ----  who attended the service ---- or anything else about it! I don’t even know whether Anne attended the funeral either! However, she had only given birth to her daughter Claire, just ten days prior to Gran’s funeral, so the chances are, that she may not have been present.  The only other thing that I seem to recall about the funeral, was that my Dad and Aunt Carrie were both chastised by the Priest for not having him administer the Last Rites to Gran before she died. Whether that chastisement was witnessed / heard by me, or merely told to me by my parents after the funeral, I cannot now remember. 

As I said, at the time of Gran’s funeral, Anne was married and her daughter Claire had just been born. However, it wasn’t a successful marriage and it ended in divorce. After which, she met her present husband, David Newsome, whilst they were both working for the Inland Revenue in Bromley. At the time Anne was renting a little house in Croydon.  They, like most young couples in those days ----- Barbara and I included --- couldn’t afford to  buy a house in South London.  Barbara and I had moved to Borstal, Rochester, in 1964 ---- Anne and David bought a place at Ditton, just outside of Maidstone in the early part of  1971. Also in that year, two other happy events took place in their lives ---their son Christopher was born in the May ----and David adopted Claire as his own.

They lived in Ditton for about five years, before moving to Allington until 1992.  Although we were only living a few miles apart in those days, we never got around to visiting one another. Somehow, Anne and I lost contact with one another from about 1964, about the time of Gran’s funeral. There was no real reason ---- probably just the pressures of working for a living and bringing up young families, plus visiting our respective parents. Anne’s had moved from Penge to Marden, near Tonbridge.

My parents and Barbara’s family, had remained in Croydon and Forest Hill ---- although my Mum did eventually came to live in Rochester from 1981, for the remaining four years of her life.  Dad had died in 1977, having suffered a stroke which had left him helpless for nine months, and had been totally dependent on my mother for his needs. Although capable within her own four walls, her body was  riddled with arthritis, and virtually housebound at that time. In her final hours, she didn’t know who I was, and  slipped away in 1985, aged 80.

Anne’s mother, passed away in 1987, after a battle with lung cancer. 

In 1992, David was promoted by his employers, and in so doing, they were able to  move down to Winchester, an area which they both like. It also happens to be the area where Anne’s paternal relatives, the ‘Waters’ came from. Sadly her Dad, Kenneth Waters, passed away in 1993.  I remember from my younger days that he used to go back to Winchester to see his family and do a spot of fishing in the rivers down there. I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in fishing, as a hobby, but I can still remember the names of the Hampshire rivers that he used to frequent.   The Itchen, the Test  and the Meon, were regularly mentioned, plus one over in Dorset called the River Piddle ---- a schoolboys delight.  Long before they ever thought of bottling water and marketing it like they do today, I harboured rather grandiose ideas about bottling the water from that river ---- labelling it Piddle and selling it to holidaymakers at  a penny a bottle.  It seemed a fair price in those days ---- after all, anybody that wanted the ‘loo’ then, always went ‘to spend a penny’. I thought that charging a penny for a ‘Piddle’ had a catchy sort of a ring to it!  I never ever got around to fulfilling that childhood dream, and therefore missed the opportunity to make my fortune.

Anne and David’s children are now married with families of their own. Their daughter  Claire is married to   David Woodhams, and has a young son called Sebastian, born on the 30 March  1992.

Their son, Christopher, married Nicola Stiff in June 1995, and they have two little boys ----  Ivan, who was born on the 24 October 2002 ---- and Joseph, who was born on the 18 October 2004

They, like my children and  grandchildren, are the current descendants from our mutual forebears on my Gran’s side --- the Roff’s and the Collins’s.

What the future will hold I wonder for them all ---- nothing but good ---- I  hope!

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