Showing posts with label Mrs Best. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mrs Best. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 August 2009

A Wonderful Lady - Chapter 18 Bannockbrae and Back to River


Frances holding MaryBannockbrae



Eventually, Mrs Best decided she would sell the house and go and live with her sister in Newquay, but said that her sister-in-law, Miss Best would be willing t let us have several rooms in her house. This was a much larger place called Bannockbrae. Miss Best was of Irish extraction, I think, and was Geography Mistress at Port Talbot Secondary School. We had three bedrooms, a kitchen, breakfast room, sitting room and bathroom. Grandma Fuller was with us then too, and she and my mum shared a double room. Miss Best had a piano in her sitting room and I was given permission to use it whenever I liked, so that I was able to continue giving Frances her music lessons. There was a lovely entrance hall with a mosaic floor, a grandfather clock, and a beautiful mahogany table. The staircase was wide and carpeted in dark red, blue and green Axminster. There were some fine triangular stair-rods made of brass, which Mum and I took out and cleaned. When Miss Best came home from school she always came down to our room to say hello, but on one occasion she didn't come, so I opened our door and there she was, standing just inside the front door with her arms folded. As I approached her she said," I was just thinking how lovely that looks with the brass rods shining". We were very pleased.



The one drawback to the house was that it was over-run by mice, which came from the house next door where a very elderly couple lived. I don't think they were aware of them. I killed one on the cooker with a poker. In the evening they would run across the hearth rug. One evening I said," I cannot stand any more. I am going to bed", and as I went up the stairs two mice ran down. We used to leave our bedroom door ajar by putting a shoe down, just in case Frances or Mum called and these mice used to leap over the shoe squeaking. I think we got rid of them eventually by blocking up the holes where they came through under the stairs.



Frank learned Spanish whilst we were living in Port Talbot. Emilio Prada was a Spaniard with an evening class in the town, but used to come to us from time to time, have a meal and give Frank a lesson. When asked if he would like more food he would lift his hands and say," I am plenty, I am plenty..."



Richard Burton



Richard Burton attended Miss Best's school and she was very keen for us to go to one of the school productions. Frank wasn't very keen on school dramatics, but thought we had better go to please her. Well, we would not have missed it for the world. She asked what we thought of it and Frank said he would have taken them all for three year drama students; they were all outstanding. Richard was superb, of course, as Professor Higgins in Pygmalion. Richard's name was Jenkins then. P.H Burton, the drama teacher, gave him his professional name and more or less brought him up.



Audrey the actress



Audrey could have done well at drama school, although I have heard Doreen say that Audrey was an excellent secretary and for one cousin to say that of another is praise indeed. Doreen was good herself I'm sure. Audrey loved staging plays. She and her mum and dad came to us for a short while when we were living in Miss Best's house in Port Talbot. Our bedroom had a bay window recess in it and , with blackout curtains drawn across the the recess, it made an ideal stage. The audience sat on the edge of the bed in great discomfort. As the curtains did not reach to the ground, Jim (Audrey's dad) , being Jim, had to have a little peep underneath occasionally, or poke his foot under, for which he was duly reprimanded. I cannot remember what the play was about except that there must have been royalty in it as one piece I remember was :



Court Official: Will your Majesty see the Chamberlain now?

Queen Audrey: No my Majesty will not!



I think the audience fell off the bed laughing; it was such a definite and dignified answer.



Back to River



Seven weeks before we came back to River in November 1944 Mary, our Welsh Rarebit, was born. I went into a really marvelous nursing home in Porthcawl called St Mary's. She was a very good baby and we hardly knew she was there. Dr Marshall came over to see me several times and when I said I felt well enough to go home he said, "Oh, don't go yet Mrs Fuller. Whilst you are here I can bring my family over, leave them on the beach, come and visit you, and claim the petrol allowance!" We started off on our journey home from Port Talbot at about 4.30am. Frank had already been posted, so I made the journey with Mary in the carry cot, Frances who was then 13 and the two grandmas. We reached Cardiff and were stuck there for an hour. Poor Frances was not at all well and kept asking how much longer we would be there The whole business of the preceding 4 or 5 years had been a great strain on her; we had gone on holiday to Shanklin and not returned home for 5 years! We travelled first class and Mary slept in the cot. A gentleman who was sharing our compartment said that he had never known such a good baby. I guess that when he saw the cot he thought he was in for a noisy trip. We reached Paddington at noon. The trains were erratic, of course, and we had to get from there to Waterloo for our connection at 1pm. My sister Floss, who was at Paddington, grabbed the cot and we took a taxi. We explained our haste to the driver and off we hurtled - he certainly went to the top of the class for flowery language! I didn't know there were so many swearwords useful on the road! We made our connection and arrive home on a cold November afternoon.



Our good friends Mr and Mrs lake, had been keeping an eye on the house and had washed all our curtains and generally cleaned up, aired the beds and made a lovely roaring fire in the dining room with a kettle singing on the hob. It really looked like home and very welcoming. We soon got something to eat and began to get settled. The amount of luggage we had collected over the 5 years was amazing. The lounge was choc a bloc; we had had to get it moved by van. The garden was a wilderness with buddleia bushes growing between the crazy paving eight feet high! Frank got to work on it bit by bit and eventually it was clear. We were thankful we had a home to come back to; some people were not so fortunate. Soon the war was over, thank God.

A Wonderful Lady - Chapter 17 War Time Memories of Wales




Eunice the Comical Kid


Eunice was really one of the funniest youngsters I ever knew - a real character. Floss brought her to Port Talbot and they stayed with us for a while at Mrs Chidzoy's house. In the evening Eunice would put her dollies to bed after a little while come downstairs with a heavy tread on each step saying, "You've had a drink, a sweet and an orange. If I hear any more from you my girl, I'll give you a smacked bottom!" Thus spake her Mum no doubt! If I was upstairs tidying in the bedrooms, I would have Eunice with me so that I could keep an eye on her. She would disappear into the bathroom, where I knew she would be safe, then re-appear saying, "Auntie I've done the wash basin, would you like me to do the bath?". Another time she was sitting on the toilet reading a book with the door wide ope. I said, " You don't use the toilet and leave the door wide open", but Eunice replied, "Well my Mummy does." I said, " Well, I don't think she ought to." "Why not?" said Eunice. I replied, "Because she's a lady". "Oh no she isn't", said Eunice convincingly. "Well what is she then?", I asked. Eunice looked down at the book she was reading, looked up and said, "She's a moo cow!". I retreated defeated; she was looking at an animal book.
The Cranny
We had been at Quantock sometime when Mrs Chidzoy, for various reasons, decided she would like to come back to live there with her little boy. We had to move on and took accommodation with Mrs Best. This family house was called The Cranny and was about a quarter of a mile nearer to the town. Mrs Best then decided to go and stay with her sister in Newport and so we moved in and were very happy at The Cranny for quite a time. Ada, Jim and Audrey visited us as did Ethel, Reg and Gillian, and the Miles and their daughter Neva next door were lovely people. We attended the Welsh Calvanist Church and the minister was Rev. Arnold Bellwood I believe; he conducted Dad's funeral.
Andrew Cunningham
Andrew was the son of our neighbour, Betty Cunningham, and he was very attracted to babies. If Betty couldn't find him whilst out, she would look for a pram and there would be Andrew gazing adoringly at the baby.He used to say, " can't we have one?". Betty would answer, "Yes, one day". Then on one occasion he said, " Good and we won't tell Dad, it will be a surprise!". Andrew was a bit of a case. On another occasion his mother took him to the barber's for a trim and by the way of conversation he told the barber that his mummy had a new pair of pink knickers! Hastening to change the subject the barber asked, " Have you any wee brothers or sisters?". "No", replied Andrew eagerly, "but we are going to have one and my daddy doesn't know anything about it!"
Death of Dad
Soon after we went to Wales my dad was quite ill with kidney trouble again. Mum and I nursed him back to health and he seemed to have a new lease of life. He would take a trip into town at times - I think he used to treat himself to an extra ounce of Digger Shag tobacco, as he loved his old pipe. Frank would drop him in the town and he would walk leisurely back. On this particular occasion, which was a fine December day,he was returning when a car came along, the steering wheel came off, the car went haywire, mounted the pavement and ran into Dad, carrying him along with it. One of our neighbours Betty Cunningham came along and told us there had been an accident and Dad was brought in and laid on the floor of the lounge. He was quite conscious and asked what happened. Frank said, " You had a little argument with a car Dad". Dad immediately said he was worried about a young woman and a toddler walking just in front of him, but they were alright. In no time a doctor , who lived opposite, came in and sent Dad to a special examination bed at the hospital. Everything that could possibly be done was done, but Dad was bleeding internally and three hours later he passed away. His prayers were answered as he always wished to pass away quickly and not linger or be a burden, which he never would have been, of course. Dad was a very even tempered man and I never knew him to lose control of his temper. Going back a long way, I remember Mum telling me how he was engaged to her sister, Tilly, who was a real local beauty, but she jilted him for another and Mum laughingly said, "Never mind George, I'll have you!" . He must have taken her at her word.
A Welsh Funeral
We had been warned that unless we put a notice in the local paper to the effect that the funeral was private, that the whole town would turn out in respect. I had seen a non-private local funeral and never realised that there were so many bowler hats around. Dad's funeral was comparatively quiet with only a few members of our family attending. When I opened the door just before we were about to leave the house, standing there were three tall men in frock coats and silk hats; Mr Howell, Mr Miles, and Mr Jones. I must say that these kindly Welsh folk accepted us as one of themselves.