With my children on Brownsea Island - Summer 1955
Once married, Thora and I had decided to enlarge our family beyond one, with the addition hopefully, of one or two children of our own. So, in a light-hearted little ceremony, Thora discarded her faithful contraceptive "cap" and the way was clear for newcomers. It was tacitly assumed that Thora's (and indeed my also) old friend Michael Hemans would watch over at least her first pregnancy and eventual delivery, which was good news, for Mike was a highly regarded gynaecological consultant, (and a keen supporter of the NHS). The first period of labour was regrettably protracted, but also marred by Thora's refusal to abandon smoking throughout - in spite of the hospital matron's orders, and Mike's, Tina's and my beseechings.
Beside our own immediate family, I am including references here to my sister Alice's daughter Stella, who was always very close to us; to Lucy's children, Liam and Seran; to Tina's children, Ben, Jessica and Charles; to Jonathan's children, James and "Jessie B"; to Thora's brother "Shon" (or Reg) Silverthorne and his daughter (by wife Ruth) Sarah, our very dear niece; and finally to John and Lloyd Silverthorne (sons of Thora's father George by his second wife Dorothy), both exceptional individuals, and to Thora's elder brother, Roy's daughter (by wife Ethel), Myfanwy Silverthorne (another dear niece)
As mentioned in chapter nine, following marrying Thora, I decided to adopt her six-year-old daughter Tina, thus acquiring an "instant family". Tina and I very soon became good, lifelong friends, which was cemented by sharing secrets such as my advice to her to wipe the odd runny nose with the back of any convenient sleeve, which she always found so robustly un-lady-like as to be hilarious. Further, she fully accepted my calling her "Number One", following the precedent of a very elderly acquaintance-a Himalayan mountaineering pioneer named Tom Longstaff-who had married a formidable pipe-smoking Tibetan woman who presented him with thirteen daughters, when he was desperate for a son to accompany him climbing, so he refused to remember the girls' names and instead called them all by numbers.
Tina's main problems were her appallingly severe asthma and eczema, withstood over many years by an evidently astonishingly strong constitution, and wonderful general practitioner care both at Revel Cottage and in London.
At Revel, the G.P. was the dedicated Dr. Solomon, based at Beaconsfield, about three miles drive away, and who would always come at short notice, day or night, which was wonderfully re-assuring. In London, another equally punctilious doctor would also come as necessary to Gordon Mansions, especially in emergencies such as a severe bronchial attack. Once, Tina had suffered from inadvertently swallowing a nut, to which she was violently allergic.
We had, at first, thought that the rather low-lying location at Revel Cottage in the Thames Valley might be responsible for Tina's chest problems. However, after much discussion, with medical friends particularly we reached the conclusion that the English climate itself was the main culprit and that re-locating Tina to a significantly drier environment was likely to be the only lasting solution.
So Thora and I travelled to inspect a mountain-side school above Lake Geneva, which appeared to be a promising solution. It was an all-boarding school named Chatelard for about sixty or seventy girls in an old mansion, with easy access to the neighbouring skiing slopes, which pupils were encouraged to use; At the same time there was an impressive programme of academic studies covering all the usual subjects.
There followed many months of patient negotiating with both National and County Health Authorities to obtain financial support for Tina to attend Chatelard school for the appropriate three or four year period. This resulted in a definite upturn in her health at the time and probably long lasting improvement as well. She also developed academically in line with her peer group generally, and became a competent skier.
Following her return to the UK, Tina first attended High Wycombe High School, studying French in particular. Then, taking advantage of accommodation available with relatives in Paris, she went to live there for some time to assist in obtaining a good grasp of the language.
By this time, her understanding of French had developed enough to enable her to undertake employment as a medical translator with the World Health Organisation, first in Morocco, and later in Algeria.
Tina's adoptive background soon faded into the past, and she became and remained a 100% natural family member, fully accepted by her two siblings (and they by her), and this was naturally, for myself a matter of great satisfaction.
While living in London, Tina had met David Hodson, whom she later married. David was a successful writer of short plays for the BBC, but he also had a remarkable propensity for high quality industrial design, particularly in woodwork, which he put to very good use later when he and Tina founded a fine-furniture-manufacturing firm named Bordercraft near their Herefordshire home. Following the production and sales of numerous high quality items of furniture and whole kitchens, David in effect developed into a self-made highly competent industrial designer, producing numerous complex and beautiful designs in various timbers for complex structures such as spiral staircases.
Thora's first married name was Sinclair-Loutit. In adopting Tina, we thus acquired a 'spare' granny: Jessie, who had a warm and generous personality, and as 'granny Loutit' was welcomed into the family and soon became friendly with my mother 'granny Craig'. Granny Loutit had ample self confidence, and often drove herself up from her home in Wareham, Dorset to visit us. She had a splendid repertoire of tales (often against herself) and she was expert in the use of double negatives. For example, once, when stopped by the local policeman, she said 'I must explain officer that I am not a person of no importance'.
We had intended to call a daughter Catherine. However, Tina insisted on the name, Lucia which Thora and myself accepted partly because of the sheer pleasure of enunciating the word Lucia, especially with the "c" pronounced as "ch". Over time, however, no doubt for simplicity, partly in line with Lucy's own choice, her name became established simply as "Lucy".
As our mutual first-born, Lucy was naturally "the apple of my eye" and still remains so! She was generally well-behaved and co-operative when young, while displaying a strong individuality and a tendency to "stand up for her rights". One of my happiest memories of her - aged say three or four, was of her running down the lawn at Revel Cottage, kicking her bum with her heels as she went, exhibiting an agility which would prove useful to her later as a dancer. Ballet was, in her youth, the activity which attracted her most.
Lucy's education began at the local state primary school, about a mile from Revel Cottage, where she was joined before long by her eighteen-month-younger brother, Jonathan. By chance, Thora's older sister Ivy, who had moved up from South Wales, occupied a house very close to the school which formed a natural "rendezvous" for both of them after lessons, from where either Thora or I could easily collect them.
Her travelling experiences began in the early '50s with a first time visit to her family in Canada, on the "Empress of Canada"; and again in '63 to stay with her aunt Betty, followed by a flight to Bordeaux to complete an "exchange" arrangement with a French girl whom we had accommodated at Revel Cottage.
In 1958 she passed the "eleven-plus" exam well enough to qualify her for entry to the prestigious Camden School for Girls, which was within easy reach of Gordon Mansions, where we still spent some week-nights. However, the pressures of such a formal school did not suit her and she insisted that a pet dog would assist her studies. Regrettably, the poodle, named "Kim" had no beneficial academic effect whatsoever, and instead switched his limited affection for her to an embarrassingly powerful affection for Thora.
Lucy then pressed us to send her to the famous Rambert School of Ballet, which boasted the provision also of "general education". Although she enjoyed her first serious introduction to Ballet, we were not at all impressed by the alleged academic training, and some acrimonious correspondence ensued. At that time, in the sixties, a teenage culture had developed in North London, involving groups "gate-crashing" parties which were then publicized by quick "ring-around" 'phone-calls', and which offered opportunities for "borrowing" alcohol to take on to the next party. Occasionally, Lucy was involved with such groups, and although she had several good girl friends, it soon became evident that she also very much enjoyed the company of young males!
I recall once in the context of her asking my permission to stay away overnight, I somehow contrived to express concern for her virginity and was perhaps stupidly upset when she explained, almost proudly that it had been long lost already! Meanwhile, impatient for my decision to permit her to go, with characteristic determination she abruptly disappeared and took a train to Bristol. It then seems that her young host might have had second thoughts about the turn of events, as expressed in the following impeccably typed letter received the next day:
Dear Mr and Mrs Craig, I can imagine the anxiety you must be feeling, with your daughter with someone you hardly know, and can only apologise most profusely if I am in any way responsible for causing you this anxiety, yours sincerely, David Scheuer.
This note soon followed:Dearest Mama and Papa, I hope I haven't given you a fright by going to Bristol. Please don't worry about me and have a nice weekend. Again, please don't worry, but you didn't give me a really good reason for not going. Don't do anything crazy, will see you on Sunday, Much love, Lu.
There followed news of a very much more complex relationship; with a 22 - year old named Terry Lefco, whom it was clear Lucy was deeply fond of. Tragically, it transpired both that he was a heroin addict, and that she felt an almost evangelical mission to assist him to cure himself of his terrible addiction. Thora and I naturally were absolutely stunned and both found it difficult not to feel bitterly resentful of this apparently deeply distasteful young man suddenly souring our happy family lives. However, we both soon agreed that such feelings served no useful purpose, and indeed for some years to follow we managed to suppress them and remain on comparatively normal terms with Terry, and even, at times, probably contributed in some small ways towards whatever form of cure he might be attempting at the time, but details escape me.
Fortunately, we always felt totally confident that Lucy would never herself indulge in any form of drugs (including smoking!). However, we were haunted by the knowledge that it was apparently common for addicts to feel obliged to pressure their "partners" to become heroin users themselves, and "in extremis" even to forcibly inject them to that end (possibly while they were asleep).
There was no option but for such worries to be borne as best we could, so long as we could see Lucy regularly to satisfy ourselves that she was as well as could be expected. However, then we were hit by the bombshell of their sudden disappearance, for no apparent reason, to totally unknown destinations, for no known period of time. Naturally, innumerable 'phone and other enquiries' ensued, both within the UK and in various parts of Europe, with no results what so ever.
We had of course, been receiving deeply sympathetic advices all along from numerous friends and relations. Now, in the context of Lucy's disappearance, the apparently strange suggestion was made that we should try involving one or two National newspapers, in the hope that they might print our story with photos and that either they, or at least Lucy would be recognised by someone, somewhere, and their head offices informed and eventually, hopefully ourselves. Once we had swallowed our reluctance to become intimately involved with some of the Tory press, we recognised the logic of the proposal and we decided to approach the "Daily Express" with its crucially important circulation of millions. Within a few days, "Express" reporters had visited Oak Hill Lodge and done interviews with Thora and myself. In the very good coverage which followed, "Express" writers were able to make much of the drugs threat to the UK, which at the time was still a fairly new phenomenon.
A week or so later: great joy! the idea had worked. Terry and Lucy had gone to Scotland and rented a caravan at a park near Aberdeen, where the manageress had recognised them and informed the local press, who, by now, were "sharing" the story with the "Daily Express", and soon both Thora and I were able to have phone chats with Lucy which were, naturally wonderfully reassuring.
On the telephone, the "Daily Express" journalists in Aberdeen were most friendly and delighted as we were, with the outcome, and they pressed me to bring Thora up to Aberdeen to meet them and the local journalists. We then managed to obtain a two-berth sleeping compartment on a night train to Aberdeen, but poodle Kim proved a problem. There was no way he could be left behind and anyway, he virtually refused to be separated from Thora. We managed to smuggle him on the train covered by a blanket, but how we managed to pee him on a very long night train remains an abiding mystery. At Aberdeen we received a tremendous welcome from a party of some six or eight journalists, who took us all over the city, including visiting the caravan site where they were found, and to the local TV station where they had arranged for me to give a TV interview on the threat of drugs to the UK.
Back in London, after the dust of recent weeks had to some extent settled, Lucy agreed to the idea that she spend some time in Paris, living with my sister Alice and her daughter Stella (24.4), both of whom she was very fond of. While there, she took both French and piano lessons and made full use of the city's many cultural opportunities.
Meanwhile we had recognised that one of Lucy's constructive interests - in interior design - was one worth promoting. So we found a six-month intensive course in the subject which she was glad to undertake.
For several years, since leaving our family home in Hampstead, Lucy had been living in a flat owned by us above the laundry business that Thora and I had started. (See ‘The Laundromat’ section at the end of this chapter.) However, in 1971 after inheriting a small amount of money from my mother’s estate, she found a terraced house in Kentish Town to buy. It was for sale at a low price because all three of its upper floors were occupied by "sitting tenants". We collectively decided that its ground floor alone would make an adequate flat and that the house would represent a sound investment for Lucy.
Shortly after Lucy had moved into the ground floor flat, I arrived one Sunday morning as arranged to help with some minor building works – putting up shelves, etc. To my surprise, I encountered a large American cooking breakfast! Lucy introduced us saying something along the lines of: "Dad (or whatever she called me), this is Gordon, he's an architect", as if she expected that to make us close friends for life!
They had apparently met at a party the previous evening and Lucy had invited him back to her new home, where he had evidently spent the night. In line with many of our friends, Thora and I were somewhat "allergic" to Americans, and if earlier, anyone had suggested that our beloved daughter might get closely involved with one, we would have "laughed them out of court". In fact, before long we had grown to both like and respect Gordon and welcomed him into our family. In fact without him, we’d never have had our two splendid grandchildren: Liam and Seran!
It transpired that Gordon had studied architecture in America and then added to that qualification with a Masters in Operations Research at Manchester University. When we first knew him he was working in the internationally renowned firm of architects and hospital planners - Llewellyn-Davis, Weeks & Partners. A few years later, having completed another Masters degree in Economics, he moved to take over as Director of the “King’s Fund College” – the management training part of the “King Edward 7th’ Hospital Fund for London”.
At about this time, Lucy also changed course. Having for a long time expressed an interest and enjoyment in children, she was accepted at the North London Polytechnic to train as a teacher. Not having had a particularly wonderful academic grounding at the Ballet Rambert she found the course quite tough but Gordon was to give her invaluable practical assistance and moral support, which contributed significantly to her finally qualifying as a teacher in 1977 – the year after their first child, Liam, was born. Gordon clearly cherished our daughter greatly, which Thora and I found reassuring.
Apart from his strengths, Gordon also had inevitable weaknesses one of which was an unfortunate and well-known penchant for practical jokes, of which I was usually the butt! For example, I had a habit of arranging a shelf-full of books in height order for neatness and he would take great delight in re-arranging them in random order.
Once however, he met his match with Tina, who acted at the time as the "company secretary" for the small furniture factory run by her husband David, named "Bordercraft" (chapter 24.1). I had ordered from them some replacement cupboard doors for our kitchen in Wales, and when I checked the delivery, one was missing, so I naturally rang Tina. She was sorry to learn about what appeared to be a fault in their despatch procedure, but "smelling a rat" asked if Gordon had been present during the unpacking – which he had. She immediately phoned Gordon at work in London and he admitted to hiding it but would only say it was "somewhere in the house". When I rang to tell her we had searched in vain, Tina became deeply angry and phoned Gordon, only to be told by his secretary that he was being interviewed by the BBC "Panorama" team and could not possibly be disturbed! Some extremely caustic comments about Gordon then resulted in the secretary ringing back to explain where the missing item could be found.
Also in Wales, Gordon seemed to take delight in highlighting the many problems I was having with the installing of my entirely new type of electric sliding gate - in the open and on a steep hillside (chapter 23.6). After a while I felt impelled to try to understand what it was that prompted him to denigrate me when occasions arose and eventually for want of any better reason, I reached the tentative conclusion that he must have felt jealous of me as his only possible rival for the affections of his beloved Lucy!
Thora and I certainly never pressured Lucy to espouse left wing-or even simply "progressive" opinions, but I believe that growing up in a family where such views were the norm must have "rubbed off" and socialist attitudes to all aspects of life became second nature to her. Also, our daily news emanated from both "The Guardian" and the "Daily Worker" (now "The Morning Star"), and further influences were the high quality films from progressive sources and of course, numerous friends of all ages, both in London and at Revel Cottage. At around sixteen she had taken the initiative to join the executive committee of the British Youth Peace Committee. Before long she had become active in the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) and naturally involved in the famous Aldermaston marches.
When Lucy and Gordon first met, his marriage to his childhood sweetheart had just failed in-spite of his highly reactionary parent's efforts to nurture what was a conventional American marriage involving a traditional "all-American" girl. By contrast they did all in their power to damage their son's new relationship and referred regularly to Lucy as "that common whore", or some similarly colourful description! In fact, Gordon was clearly far too intelligent to accept a lifetime as a stereotypical American "egg-head".
About a year after their first meeting, he and Lucy went to live in Denver, Colorado in the USA where Gordon had accepted a job with the Denver Hospital Medical School. Thora and I had expressed our fears that they might settle there permanently but Lucy assured us immediately that there was no question of that happening. Gordon followed shortly after with this interesting letter:
Dear N. & T.,
As Lu has said, it's laughable that you would consider the possibility of our staying over here; Americans are so screwed up. As an American I think I see it even more than Lu and worry more about what can be done to stop the "Americanization" of Europe. That would be a crime of historic and possibly "final" dimensions if it were allowed to happen - I worry about what we can do about it.
Shortly after, they returned to London and it was then that Lucy began first her teacher training followed by the hard and often stressful life of a teacher in an inner-city school. At the same time she had joined the Local Labour Party, which at that time of course, was still acceptably "Old Labour".
Being naturally active and willing, Lucy became involved in various roles in the Labour Party working hard at both Ward and Constituency level. Partly through this activity she became recognised as a natural candidate for election to Haringey Council and indeed soon became one, being duly elected as an Alexandra Ward Councillor in May 1990. She then remained in the role for 12 years before standing down in 2002.
She began work on the Council by initiating a campaign to save several local libraries from closure, which both succeeded locally (with local headlines such as We love Lucy!), but even had national repercussions. Elected "Chair" of the Education Committee she was involved in improving the quality of various schools in many respects.
Later, as a member of the Planning Committee, she contributed particularly to the solution of many road and traffic problems by initiating pedestrian crossings, traffic "calming" at danger spots, rationalising parking areas and zones, and the like. She also served for several years on the Alexandra Palace Management Board. At the same time she managed to assist many individuals with their problems at her local "surgeries", and also made numerous contributions to a wide variety of debates in the main Council chamber. Further, Lucy had always been a keen letter writer and she built on her expanding experience with letters of concern on broader political issues - both to local papers and the national press. I particularly recall one of her favourite phrases: "I feel a letter coming on" (as if "I feel a cold coming on"), which indicated her view that the problem of the moment called for the necessary time to be spent researching and then drafting what invariably proved to be a both interesting and constructive letter and was quite often printed in the "Guardian". Virtually always, she credited Gordon for his help and advice with such correspondence.
Later, both Lucy and Gordon were instrumental in founding the important "Reclaim the Labour Party" movement which brought them both into conflict with the party hierarchy in New Labour and culminated in Lucy’s expulsion from the party in 2005. However, her numerous and varied tasks, over which she always benefited from Gordon's support, absorbed much time and energy, but gained her much local respect as a valued citizen and activist.
Since originally meeting him, Thora and I had on the whole, got on well with Gordon, until once when he and Lucy and one-year-old Liam had come to stay at the original Llettyreos house in Wales before any basic improvements had been made to it. For some reason an argument had begun which became increasingly acrimonious and Gordon expressed his exasperation by suddenly insisting on returning to London. It was a dark, cold and wet night and Thora and I objected keenly to his taking our daughter and year-old grandson on an unnecessary four-hour drive just as we saw it, to satisfy his ego. And I can recall picking up an axe, kept in the porch for chopping logs and brandishing it at him to indicate the strength of our feelings! Needless to say they still left and I believe that occasion became the last low point in our relations with Gordon.
From age six, it was clear from his school reports that Jonathan was going to need far more personal teaching support than a state school would ever be able to provide. Ideally, both Thora and I would have preferred Jonathon's education to remain state sponsored, so he could learn and mature in the same context as other young citizens of his age. Unfortunately however, prospects for such an outcome were not good, especially in our area where education was controlled by the narrow-minded Bucks County Council.
At that time there was, rightly or wrongly, a widely held belief that the criterion for good secondary schooling was its ability to result in entrance to University. I had often joked with friends that I would never allow any son of mine to 'suffer the advantages' (i.e. of public school) which I had had.
However, when it 'came to the crunch' we realised that if state schooling could not guarantee University entrance, then there was no alternative to privately funded education. Our old friends, John and Janet Platts-Mills had come to the same conclusion, and decided to send all their six sons to Bryanston School in Dorset, and we edged towards doing the same.
Although Bryanston was 'worlds apart' from Charterhouse, we had misgivings about it still being unmistakably a public school, because it was expensive and primarily intended for boarding pupils. As such, it would inevitably tend to have the unsettling effect on young minds of setting them apart from humanity generally and making them feel 'special'.
That was a concern which, in fact, particularly worried his fond sister, Lucy. However, our family socio-political outlook (which Jonathan had of course grown up with), had developed from firm socialist ideals and principles, including, naturally: 'all men being born equal' and Thora and I trusted perhaps optimistically that much of that positive, progressive outlook would have rubbed off and become second nature to him thus strengthening his resolve to avoid any 'elitist' tendencies. Jonathan, in fact, thrived at Bryanston and duly continued on to Essex University, obtaining a degree in politics. (Due to the high costs of Bryanston, Rambert etc, Thora and I over the years tried our hands at various entrepreneurial forays. These are related at the end of this chapter.)
In the mid-1960s I asked Jonathan if he would assist me in visiting some unique monasteries in Northern Romania by sharing the driving of my Vauxhall 'Station Wagon' if we drove to them across central Europe adopting as direct a route as possible. He cheerfully agreed, and suggested that we could camp out as we went, and he would take a sleeping bag and sleep under the stars, while I slept on the floor of the car. We eventually left Romania and were heading southeast towards Turkey which we had decided to visit while in that 'neck of the woods'. I was driving along a straight, wide, flat, dusty Hungarian highway when I noticed in the middle of the road two figures about the size of small rabbits seemingly locked together and it transpired to be a pair of lovemaking tortoises, and, at that point, Jonathan came out with what I believe may well have been one of the most spontaneous but apt remarks ever when he said 'Ah, a remarkable example of toitus coitus!'.
We then proceeded through Western Turkey where we were robbed of several hundred pounds in Istanbul before crossing the great new bridge over the Bosphorous into Eastern Turkey from where we intended to drive south towards Izmir to visit Corinth.
Since the car was a Vauxhall it suffered the weaknesses of the American General Motors design trend, namely that of omitting a sturdy chassis in favour of treating the whole car as a structural entity which resulted in slight depressions or 'hollows' in the underside of the body near the rear wheels intended to receive the jack head.
Having decided to give the tyres a thorough check before the long drive home I naturally inserted the jack in the appropriate place near the rear wheels and started lifting, whereupon the jack head simply punctured the thin steel body and the weight of the car caused the jack to both penetrate the car and the shock drove the jack into the ground so that the car was in effect pinned to the ground. We then collected whatever blocks or large stones we could find to provide alternative support for the rear axle provided Jonathan could lift the car for just enough time for me to be able to push those temporary 'packings' beneath the axle, which, very remarkably, he managed to do. We then quickly removed the wheel, and replaced it with the spare. Fortunately we were able to use the jack in its intended way on the opposite side, enabling us to remove that wheel, examine the tyre and lower the car back to the ground; during which operations I took some of the weight myself to reduce the risk of further trouble and in doing so severely strained my back.
Ideally, Jonathan should then have rested his own somewhat strained back, but we were anxious to start off towards home, so he, gamely, drove off with me lying prone on my faithful thin rubber mattress on the floor at the back.
The shape of the rear of the Vauxhall in fact somewhat resembled that of a hearse, so I was the object of intense inspection (and innumerable chest crossings from the inhabitants of the many villages we passed through), in fact, many normal productive activities must have ground to a standstill for a while in that part of the world.
Following Jonathan's return to London he occupied one of the flats above Thora's nursery school (Chapter Nine) and joined a systems analysis course. Shortly after, he met a young Scottish woman named Jean, who had had a very difficult upbringing in a family which included at least one alcoholic. Jean soon moved in with him, and then suddenly one day he announced that, from Jean being simply a short-term partner, was now pregnant and he was intending to marry her. Thora, Lucy and I had all met Jean and were convinced that cementing their relationship would be unhelpful to both: in fact Thora, whom he had always loved and respected deeply, together with Lucy, both tried hard to talk him out of the idea, but to no avail. When I rang to make a date to talk to him, he guessed my intention and flatly refused even to hear what I had to say. He was clearly besotted with Jean, the marriage soon took place and our grandson James was born shortly after.
Not only his own close family felt sure their marrying would be wrong, even one of Jean's own sisters told me a few weeks later that she thought it was a marriage 'made in hell'.
Having given up a good job with Hackney Council, Jonathan decided to move to the New Forest area and go into business with an old school friend. He had fallen foul of the wishful thinking which fatally affects so many involved in computing namely, that he could devise a fortune-making software system as Bill Gates had done with 'Microsoft'. So he and his friend both risked their houses as surety for the company needed to launch the doomed idea.
Meanwhile, the marriage showed clear and not unexpected signs of impending breakdown, and they then took the irresponsible and proven wrong decision to try 'patching it up' by starting another child. When the second child arrived it proved to be a girl, who was named Jessica Bronwen ('Jessie B' for short) who although much younger, remained a loyal sister to James as they grew up.
However relations between Jonathan and Jean continued their inevitable downward slide towards divorce The indecisive months which followed were particularly unhappy and stressful for James and Jessica whom, naturally, Thora and I assisted as best we could.
It was extremely fortunate that the local social services department stepped in and provided a two-to-three bedroom house in a small housing society estate in Lyndhurst, where Jean and the two children long remained.
Jonathan went abroad and was rather out of touch with us for many years. However, he returned to the UK in 2007, when he and his long-term Hungarian partner, Edina, had a baby. Beautiful little Elena Lilla was delivered at St Thomas's hospital, London.
In 1941 when my sister Alice was living in London, she met and fell in love with a French man named Georges Fournier, who had been a professor at the Paris Sorbonne, where he had worked with the great Madame Curie on the development of radium. At the start of the war in '39, Georges had decided to escape from German-occupied France and join the London staff of general de Gaulle's "Free French" Army. Alice and George's relationship resulted in her pregnancy, and in chapter one under "The Family", it is explained that she pressed me to intercede with our father Edwin, to try to calm his anger at the inevitability of illegitimate grandchildren. Alice's babies were twins; a girl named Stella and a boy named Colin (after my brother who died in 1920-(chapter 1). Twins were in fact quite common on my mother Molly's side of the family, though most often they were same-sex - including herself and her twin Patty .
It soon became apparent that Alice's twins were very different temperamentally; Stella being calm and gentle, while Colin seemed likely to develop into a forceful personality.
The embarrassment of illegitimacy was alleviated somewhat when, in 1946, Georges and Alice got married. They then set up home in a Paris flat where Alice would have wished to invite Molly to stay but Molly had always insisted (because of her "belief" in Christian Science) that she would never allow any medical treatment for herself and French law states, that if a death occurs without medical assistance-having been called for, then the owner of the premises will be prosecuted.
Meanwhile, the twins grew up at "Tanera More", looked after by Alice, assisted by nannies. Once an adult, Colin opted to become an architect and in due course was employed by a Los Angeles firm who, before long, entrusted him with the designing and construction of a whole new Red Sea port town in Saudi Arabia.
As a teenager, Stella would occasionally stay with her father in Paris and recalls him taking her to see films of many aspects of life in the Soviet Union, which she found inspiring and stimulating. It seems that her instinctive leanings politically towards the 'left' made for a rapport between her and Georges, which never really developed between him and Colin.
Once, a few weeks after "D-Day", I was travelling on the main East/West road near Bayeux and stopped briefly for a rest at a place where Georges, by an extraordinary coincidence had also stopped. I soon spotted his six-foot plus figure in the striking uniform of a French naval officer, resplendent with gold braid to indicate his staff officer status.
After exchanging news about "the twins", he told me he had only just received some terrible news: His youngest son by his previous marriage, named Jacques, had been one of the thousands of heroic French men and women who had formed the "underground" Resistance to the Germans". Jacques, while still only a teenager had been caught and shot, and Georges was visibly deeply distressed by the awful news.
In 1968, clearly because of his earlier work with Eve Curie on radium, he developed Parkinsons Disease, which soon led to his death.
In 1945, Alice decided she would like to "put down some new roots", and asked me to help find her a cottage in Scotland, if possible somewhere near to places we had (as children) grown fond of when yachting. So, in due course I found an ex-Forestry Commission Keeper's Cottage on the shore of Loch Duich, very near one of our favourite anchorages. So she put in a successful bid and became owner of "Leacachan", Letterfern Ross. It was in fair structural condition, but as with any hundred-year-old property, it required expenditure on basic essentials to maintain its integrity in keeping with its exceptional position overlooking one of Scotland's best known sights; Eileen Donan Castle and the "Five Sisters" Mountains. Alice had always been very close to our father Edwin and regrettably tended to follow his always conventional rulings slavishly, particularly in regard to financial matters where "capital" was sacrosanct. I can well recall a frustrating argument with her over spending a trivial proportion of her recent inheritance to prevent the imminent collapse into the sea of one of her property's boundary walls
Highly unfortunately, no one had ever faced Alice up to the obvious fact that her children, though twins, were in fact two different individuals, each having a very distinctive mind of his/her own. She continued to treat them totally unrealistically as an entity, especially when it came to drafting her Will. I believe it to have been extremely unfortunate that her legal adviser did not highlight to her that it is clearly totally impractical for one property to belong to two separate individuals-whether closely related or not, and could result in disastrous indecision over vital matters of repairs and responsibilities for essential payments, which is precisely what later transpired. (See below: The Scottish Cottage)
In 1961, Stella was working as a qualified teacher in Paris when she met and married Roger Aillaud who was working for a firm concerned with transporting building materials through the Northern French canal network. At the time the French Government was anxious to promote revival of agriculture by assisting young couples to obtain farmland, which resulted in Roger and Stella being offered the use of an old settlement in very dilapidated farm buildings near Foix in Southern France, in a very beautiful Northern part of the Pyrenees. By chance Thora, the children, our niece Sarah and I were spending a short holiday at Sanary in the South of France, near to where Roger and Stella were also staying with friends, so we naturally all met up and in due course we were able, together, to drive to Foix to visit Stella and Roger's possible future home at nearby Celles.
The somewhat derelict settlement of farm buildings named ‘Picou de Montcamp’, which they had been offered was reached by a long, twisting and steep road through beautiful beechwoods and consisted of entirely stone-built structures, several hundred years old, without roofs, which clearly had great "potential", for it was in a beautiful position surrounded by evidently fertile land. Fortunately the French Government had agreed to pay for the vital approach road to be improved and made easily useable by normal vehicles.
Roger in particular had made numerous possibly somewhat optimistic plans for developments, including a windmill of some kind for electricity generation, and a pump to distribute water from the single well. Over the coming years, to their great credit, they managed to create a habitable dwelling out of part of one of the old stone buildings in which they have lived and reared several children for some decades already. ‘Picou’ - already an established and fond family home, clearly calls out for more inhabitants and Stella has already obliged wonderfully well, since she is a natural matriarch. At the time of writing this, in mid 2007 she and Roger have four sons and two daughters, of which the eldest, Fanny, married to a Scotsman, Murdo, already has several children of her own.
Stella's family have for long had logical plans to develop ‘Picou’ into a riding school, with accommodation for its students, since several of her sons are expert horsemen, and have won numerous medals for riding and various aspects of horsemanship.
After several years of predictable confusion because of Alice's Will leaving ownership to two separate individuals-Colin and Stella, it became apparent in mid 2007 that agreement had been reached that Colin agreed to "Leacachen" becoming solely Stella's property, in return for him becoming sole owner of the flat in Paris. Thus the way became clear for the desired and sensible outcome of Stella bequeathing Leacachen to her daughter Fanny and son-in-law, Murdo.
Before discussing Liam alone, I think it would be best to explain the origin of the name Craig-Best, which is used for both Liam and Seran. It arose because Gordon and Lucy had decided as a staunch feminist that she was not prepared to abandon her surname of Craig, for it to be subsumed in the traditional way into the name Best. Therefore, with Gordon's full agreement, it was decided that they would use the hyphenated name of Craig-Best for their two offspring. However, many years after the children were born, they decided for tax reasons, that it would be advantageous to be married. Accordingly they rather surprised Liam and Seran by asking them one morning if they’d like to miss school and join their parents at the registry office where they were to get married. Liam and Seran were allowed to act as witnesses though since they were both under 16, two complete strangers, who happened to be in the registry office at the time, were also asked to be witnesses for the very small ceremony. Later that day, Liam and Seran said to Thora and I, "this morning we missed school and went with Mum and Dad to get married!"
Liam and Seran were both very close to Thora and myself and used to visit us regularly at 77 Quickswood (see chapter 23.5), where they regularly played 'shop' on the spiral staircase.
For his secondary-school years Liam attended the much respected "Fortismere School" in Muswell Hill, where he gained useful research and writing experience, producing essays on a number of important subjects-such as the 'slave-trade'.
I recall that, at first Thora did not like the choice of Liam as Lucy and Gordon’s son's first name. But it gradually "grew" on us and in fact, I believe as he matured and became politically active, that its Irish connotation had a militant flavour that suited him! For example, one of Ireland's greatest writers was named Liam O'Flaherty, who wrote "Famine", which great book described Ireland's greatest tragedy.
Liam also took after Lucy through writing to the national newspapers, about numerous topical subjects such as: Capital Punishment; the destruction of the Amazon rainforest and other important issues-over which he sometimes collaborated with kindred spirits.
Following Fortismere, Liam attended a sixth-form college where he performed well at A-level, getting several A's and B's.
In 1995, he travelled to Cuba where by teaching English in Havana University he obtained Spanish language lessons by way of payment in return.
Having obtained a reasonably good understanding of Spanish, Liam then started some "free-lance" investigative reporting on his own initiative, and managed to get resulting reports of contemporary developments in Colombia and other South American countries, into various North American Journals and Newspapers.
On returning home briefly, about that time he took a job in London with an advertising firm, which paid him very well and provided invaluable computer and organisational experience. However, he was not attracted back to Capitalist society but rather preferred to put his earnings towards returning to Havana where he managed to find himself a flat in the old part of town. Naturally, the experience of providing for himself involved shopping and integration with the local community, which was invaluable in obtaining some idea of the living conditions of ordinary Cuban people. The flat which he had been able to rent, was up several flights of stairs in a typical, very run-down area of Havana, which he had been able to make just comfortable enough to enable him to invite his parents, sister Seran or Thora and myself to stay – though not all at the same time!
Whilst thoroughly enjoying his time in Cuba however, Liam had always believed that Colombia was a country where the probability of significant developments at any time deserved close attention to events there. He therefore moved from Havana to Bogota, to continue his investigative journalism reporting from the heart of Colombia.
He found a flat in Bogota which he shared with a young Colombian woman, with whom he had formed a short-term relationship. From that base in Bogota, where he was able to install a computer with internet and email facilities, he continued travelling over much of the country, often by bus or by hitching car-rides. He thus, soon obtained numerous pictures of the lives, both of the ordinary people and particularly of professionals such as teachers, who were seemingly singled out for oppression by the highly reactionary Colombian upper-class-who were plainly fearful for their own future if the ordinary people became too educated. Thus, he filed numerous reports of upper-class-inspired attacks, on particularly trade-unionists of all kinds; ranging from teachers to farmers. Those attacks were not just verbal, but through the agency of paramilitaries or even the Colombian Army itself, tragically all too often included actual murders. Naturally, he became determined to become involved in some way, to help the ordinary citizens of Colombia to alleviate their terrible plight.
Returning to London therefore, he formed a totally new organisation called "Justice for Colombia", with crucial assistance, both from the TUC whom he had already helped by organising tours of Colombia for British Trade Unionists, including many hours of essential translating. The TUC supplied vital financial support, and the Trade Union, ASLEF, supplied him with office accommodation in their HQ building in Hampstead.
"JFC" has gone from strength to strength, chiefly through Liam speaking to numerous Trade Union conferences, districts and branches, where he gives a vivid picture of the terrible sufferings of men and women trade unionists, with whom his English audiences are able to identify readily. He was also very fortunate in obtaining the assistance of another fluent Spanish speaker named Mariela Kohon, who proved to be a natural-born organiser and soon became so closely identified with the aims and purposes of "JFC", as to prove absolutely invaluable. For some time she and Liam were partners, sharing a small flat in Camden within easy distance of the office in the ASLEF HQ in Hampstead.
When Gordon and Lucy's second child was born, the usual hunt for a name began. Gordon had for many years enjoyed the joke of turning people’s name backwards – he was Nodrog, Lucy was Ycul - and he decided to experiment with reversing the order of letters within some existing family names, which had the happy result in the case of "Nares" of producing the name "Seran". Fortuitously, this was not only Nares backwards but was very close to the Welsh word "Seren", meaning star which of course pleased Thora. However it had a distinct and attractive originality of its own and was therefore soon accepted, without the usual family arguments!
Seran followed her brother Liam to Fortismere School in Muswell Hill, where she did particularly well in music, art and drama. She performed well in the usual examinations at 16 and went on to a 6th form college. She dropped out however before taking A-levels but went on to do a variety of computer courses. She tried jobs in several different areas but eventually landed up in the music world where her computer experience, enthusiasm and good organisational skills stood her in good stead. Over several years Seran developed these skills and attributes till shortly before the birth of her first child, she was managing the internationally famous pop-group, ‘Blur’!
Like most young women, Seran had her fair share of attentive young boyfriends. Two in particular, ‘Easy’ (so named by his mother because he had been such an ‘easy’ birth!) and Damian were long-term relationships and I enjoyed knowing both young men. During her early 20’s Seran also chose to spend a year living and working in the US close to Gordon’s family. Luckily she was not attracted enough to stay there though she did develop an attraction for cinnamon doughnuts and came home looking distinctly plumper than when she’d left!
After a few years working in management in the music business, Seran went to Goa for a winter holiday where she met her future partner, David and when he returned to the UK six months later they moved in together. The outcomes of their ensuing relationship were three splendid grandsons for Lucy and Gordon and great-grandsons for myself, named: Keir, Teo and Rudi. Seran and David managed to obtain a home for their family in a detached house in a reasonable condition in Bounds Green, near enough to Lucy and Gordon for visiting regularly.
Tina's three children fortunately all inherited her strong physical constitution and keen personality. Both she and David were unimpressed by the primary school available to them locally in Dorstone, Herefordshire, where they had moved from London and they decided to start educating Ben and Jessica themselves, with the important assistance of an ex-mathematics teacher, whom both children liked and benefited from. And that "home-education" continued until they were both ten or twelve.
The 1949 Education Act stated that children must be educated "at school or otherwise" and, some years after their initial "DIY"effort, David and Tina in fact helped to found an organisation which was known as "Education Otherwise", which proved popular with parents who preferred to undertake teaching themselves rather than insist that the State fulfil its logical role of applying adequate resources to educate its young citizens properly.
Ben showed an early proclivity for the sciences and he therefore attended a Catholic school nearby, which had a reputation for physics and chemistry. He was then able to proceed to the University of Surrey at Guildford, where he later graduated as an Electronics Engineer.
Charles was born in the London Hospital in the East-End; he was born after only 26 weeks (the normal being 40 weeks) and weighed less than a bag of sugar. However, the "London" had an excellent "prem" unit, staffed by several specialist nurses (one of whom became a close friend of Tina's). Charles survived chiefly by being fed exclusively on Tina's own breast milk(which she "expressed" regularly for him), and he was able to start school at age eight and go on to the nearby secondary school at 'Fairfield' at eleven. He was a natural communicator and showed an aptitude for teaching.
As an adult, after mastering the use of computers, Charles seized the opportunity to take advantage of the sudden spread of ownership of personal computers to offer training courses for people in their own homes, which naturally proved very popular.
Jessica Hodson had always been a placid gentle child, which earned her the nickname of "Puss" which remained with her in adulthood. She grew up a highly accomplished musician, assisted by her father David, who was himself a very competent pianist. She combined playing and teaching the flute with the unlikely sport of judo at which she became highly successful and reached International status. In 2004, she married a pianist named Jones and has three sons named; Sam, Louis and Tom. They live in Peterchurch near Dorstone.
First, her own three sons all suffer from debilitating " though not totally incapacitating illnesses. In spite of that handicap she volunteered to be the registered foster carer for a young girl born with cerebral palsy, who has been accepted by her three boys as a sister. At a recent (2008) small village concert when Sam was playing the trombone, Cody (the foster daughter) became so excited that she proclaimed her excitement loudly" - after which Sam explained he was 'not embarrassed so much as proud to be part of such a remarkable family'.
Jean and Jonathan's children were brought up in Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, and each attended the appropriate school for their ages. Jessica's nickname, "Jessie B", helped to distinguish her from her cousin Jessica Hodson. Both she and her brother performed adequately at the usual school examinations and each did well in school games, while James became a particularly good footballer.
Later, James opted to take various jobs in shops, culminating in comparatively responsible and reasonably paid job with a ship's chandler in nearby Southampton, while Jessica started training to become a chef.
An update of the above dated 28/07/07 reads as follows:" The 'ships chandlers job which James took was in fact in a medium sized Southampton firm named 'Rope and Tackle' which was shortly after absorbed into a German multi-national firmed named 'Pfeifer' who actually manufactured steel wire ropes, and other items of heavy lifting equipment, which I was well acquainted with, so I welcomed James' choice of work. Pfeifers were planning to give him appropriate engineering training so his prospects within the company looked promising.
Jessica had just passed her equivalent to 'A level' 'City and Guilds' cookery test and was about to start as assistant chef in a nearby good quality restaurant and was looking forward, with confidence to 'making her mark' as a woman in what had always been considered a man's job.
A quiet and likeable young man who is green-keeper at a local golf course named Nicholas, who clearly cares for her, had become Jessica's partner, and together they share a small rented house locally. They now have a daughter, Evie.
In May 2008 James joined me, sharing a cabin, on the motor ship Marco Polo for a very short (5 days) cruise from London Docks to the Norwegian Fiords which, for me had been a lifelong ambition. James proved an essential, (because of my age) 'carer/companion' and he took a number of excellent photographs.
Aspects of the life and tragic early death of Thora's fond brother Shon (or occasionally Reg) were referred to in chapter 9. His daughter Sarah by wife Ruth, invariably known as Sally, opted to train as a nurse, and in due course married one of her patients, Felix Borchardt, who himself became a Doctor and later a successful GP in a Worcestershire practise, where they lived and raised a family, including Alexander, Bartholomew and Charlotte, who in turn all became parents themselves.
Myfanwy (always known by the diminutive ‘Muvvy’) Silverthorne, was the daughter of Thora's elder brother Roy, and has long remained a close cousin member of the family.
Sometime after emigrating from Wales to Reading, Thora's Father George Silverthorne, met and married a woman named Dorothy originally from Birmingham and together they set up home in Reading's, London Road. Dorothy had chronically poor eyesight, having Retinitis Pigmentosa but she did not allow that to hamper her efforts to obtain the best possible education for her two children, John, the older and Lloyd, who both reciprocated her efforts by working hard at their schools and obtaining high results in examinations. John soon obtained a good teaching post, where he combined academic work with sports training, at which he excelled and became highly popular.
Sadly, it transpired that Dorothy's eye trouble was a disease which is transmitted through male offspring and John fell foul of it. At the time he had met a Kenyan student named Ann, who had formed an attachment to him which led naturally to her becoming his guide when needed. Their attachment blossomed and they decided to marry in her home town near Nairobi; John then travelled there with Ann, who installed him in her family home.
Then, tragically, disaster struck when, in the unfamiliar environment, John smelled gas and attempted to turn off the gas cooker. He inadvertently triggered the ignitor, causing an explosion. He suffered severe shock and facial injuries. He was taken to the local hospital and later to the main hospital in Nairobi, where Lloyd was able to visit him; sadly John died a few days later.
Lloyd then arranged for the body to be brought back to Reading for a remarkable and very well attended funeral service in one of Reading's municipal Town Hall buildings, when it was evident that John had been widely respected and liked-both as an educationist and as a sports promoter.
In the remarkable neo-gothic 19th century Reading Town Hall a number of rooms were dedicated to prominent persons who had particular connections with Reading, namely Oscar Wilde, author of the 'Ballad of Reading Jail' and one of these rooms was dedicated to John Silverthorne for his effort when a labour councillor, in saving the remarkable Victorian building from plans to sell it all off for redevelopment.
Whilst John went into teaching and politics, Lloyd had succeeded in joining the BBC as a full time trainee where he remained for 35 years - mainly concerned with radio and sound recording, before leaving to set up his own music business, partnered by his wife, Sue.
Over the decades, Thora and I made three forays into the uncertain entrepreneurial world aimed at making money to help defray the alarming Bryanston School fees, etc:
'The best thing since sliced bread' was a common phrase in the 1950's and we were pioneers in introducing it. By 'we' I mean, myself and Thora's elder brother Roy who, with wife Ethel, lived in Tilehurst, a part of Reading, Berkshire, where we had purchased an established grocery business whose owner Mr Blake wished to change his occupation but agreed to our keeping his name if we wished. Thus on legal advice we formed a registered company named Blake's Stores Tilehurst Ltd.
The shop premises faced the main London Reading road and were in generally good condition, with a local service road at the rear enabling bulk grocery deliveries to be made directly into the extensive storage basement where I was able to install a second hand simple service lift which facilitated delivering heavy bulk groceries up to the retail shop at ground level. There was a two bed roomed flat above the shop which Ethel and Roy occupied.
We had seen notices in the press about a firm named 'Wonderloaf' having set up a factory in North London containing a bakery and the necessary slicing and packaging machinery and we decided to approach them to establish an agreement to purchase and distribute their sliced bread around the South Midlands.
It was naturally, a 'shot in the dark' because we had no appropriate transport or any idea of the sort of running costs we were likely to face.
An agreement based on nothing more than common sense without the luxury of qualified legal or financial advice, was reached in due course and the priority then arose of purchasing suitable transport. Fortunately auctions of ex-army equipment were then taking place and we were able to obtain two large Bedford 3 ton troup carriers."They had simple tubular frameworks to carry heavy duty canvass roofs and sides which had served as minimum weather protection for the troops and it was necessary to design and build suitable timber shelving to accommodate the 100's of packaged sliced loaves.
Fortunately, Roy had a friend aged around 40 who was a reasonably experienced motor mechanic whose name I totally forget so I shall call him 'Bill' hereon. We engaged Bill on a monthly basis and I instituted with him a rigorous inspection and servicing routine for our two vital vehicles.
The next obvious necessity was to scour a wide area of territory over an approximately 50 mile radius around Reading, after having, of course, first covered the whole town itself for potential regular customers for the (hopefully!) popular 'Wonderloaves'. We than set about building up a team or drivers who could be depended on to fulfil the necessary daily driving (one of whom in fact, was Donald Fairbairn who later married Roy's daughter 'Myfy' (Muvvie). The daily driving involved reaching London and travelling around the North Circular road to the 'Wonderloaf' factory and stopping to load the days bread order.
Unfortunately it was before the advent of 'mobile phones' which would have been invaluable for the drivers to report progress or breakdowns, or other incidents which they had to do at first from (not always easily found) public phone boxes.
At this stage we decided it would be wise to invest in a third smaller vehicle," so we bought a '30 cwt' (also a 'Bedford') in which we fitted more timber shelving as both overflow space and capacity for shorter deliveries, but also as" a rescue vehicle (driven by 'Bill' with his tool kit) in the event of a '3 tonner' breakdown, equipped with tow-rope and spare petrol. Luckily, breakdowns were infrequent but the added space for bread in the smaller vehicle proved invaluable.
With the passage of many, many years I cannot begin to recall any details of the 'bread business'. However, I can say, with confidence that it must have yielded a reasonable profit otherwise I am sure, we would have abandoned it earlier than we did.
This involved the purchase of the 'Sugar Bowl cafe' in the centre of the popular Thames side town of Marlow, which already had a well established clientele. Thora had agreed to undertake the daily management, and whatever light cooking might be required. We had been very fortunate in meeting a neighbour (Bob Weedon) in Bourne End (adjoining Marlow) who had an interest in cooking and had himself decided to open a food bar in one of the local pubs. Bob offered to call in and assist Thora from time to time which was invaluable when the lunch time 'meal business' expanded.
Bob Weedon and his wife Joan soon became close friends and remained so for many years. With Bob's help, trade at the Sugar Bowl continued reasonably profitably without incident; I visited from time to time to assist as best I could.
I then (regrettably) decided I should find a male manager for the cafe to hopefully, relieve Thora from day to day responsibilities. At the large local pub near Ivy's house, where I collected the children daily after school, there was a friendly barman named 'Bert' who always welcomed Lucy and Jonathan and gave them suitable non-alcoholic drinks.
I asked 'Bert' if he would like the cafe managers job (with use of flat over, at the 'Sugar Bowl'), and he immediately agreed to visit the cafe that evening to, hopefully 'clinch a deal'. He then rang his girlfriend to tell her about my offer, including particularly, the use of the flat. When Thora arrived later she was amazed, on entering the cafe, to find 'Bert' standing by the till whose cash drawer happened to be (wrongly) open, and with one of his jacket pockets wide open, was literally 'scooping' the cash (silver of course) straight into his pocket. Naturally, we dismissed him on the spot. We then agreed to his using the phone to tell his girlfriend what had happened and thus overheard her explosion of rage with him because she was apparently desperate at the time for somewhere to live.
By extraordinary chance, the next day, we saw a press account of the opening " in Roehampton " of the first American type 'Laundromat', or laundry with coin operated machines which were both efficient and popular, and relieved the shop owner of responsibility for handling cash.
On the face of it, it seemed to be our answer, and we soon visited Roehampton to see the shop and 'how it all worked'
We then found an old shop for sale in an apparently 'excellent for business' situation in the centre of a large area of working class council flats in Camden, but refrained from making an offer for it until we felt 'more sure of ourselves' which meant particularly, the need for more management experience. Therefore, we approached the (English) man and his wife (couple 'XY') who had been engaged to run the Roehampton shop by the American firm of Westinghouse who were promoting 'Laundromats' (equipped with their washing machines).
We probably felt that we would receive better attention from Westinghouse in a new second 'Laundromat' if we employed the same management (couple 'XY') whom they had chosen for their first.
So we offered 'couple XY' a modest 'weekly salary', and the use of a first floor flat (which we had intended converting anyway) at 133 Hampstead Road (at the corner of Robert Street), to manage a 'Laundromat' once we had installed the necessary equipment. They were agreeable in principal, but we agreed to postpone the final decision until we knew more about whether the possible premises would be suitable and some idea of the necessary, clearly very heavy capital outlay involved. Fortunately, Westinghouse had a fairly detailed list of what would be required before all their machines could be installed.
Fortunately, Camden Council were sympathetic to the whole idea (which of course would be of real benefit to the community) and they did all they could to assist us over building regulations and the like; for we were planning to install large and heavy equipment into a 100 year old building and the all important 'District Surveyor' gave valuable advice and later approval on necessary steel beams to strengthen floors etc.
There was a yard at the back of the shop premises which provided invaluable extra space, and which we were later able to build over. First, the need for enormous water reserves meant that the original coal cellars had to become a" reservoir for approximately 1000 gallons by building a retaining wall and then asphalting to provide for 3ft depth of water. The heavy demand for hot water necessitated two of the largest 'Potterton' oil fired boilers for which it was necessary to install two large oil tanks. Fortunately we had found a friendly building firm who agreed to undertake all the necessary carpentry, electrical, plumbing, and other works such as plastering and decorating. I had asked my old friend James Cousins (the architect) to suggest a colour scheme for the main shop, which caused a disagreement with the American Westinghouse advisor (who I will describe here as 'Mr. Z') who was generally helpful.
Luckily at our first opening time everything functioned well and from then on 'life with the laundry' became routine until occasionally interrupted by some crises such as boiler failure. My responsibility consisted chiefly of emptying the cash boxes regularly, carrying the (surprisingly heavy) cash in small brief cases up to my office at Oak Hill Lodge, and then sorting the chiefly silver by weight into appropriate bags for taking to the bank which had to be carefully entered into the 'books' for the accountant to vet.
Finally, we added a flat roofed extension in the rear yard which provided space for a small office and three large electrical Driers, also coin operated.
When discussing a final opening 'Z' took strong objection to James's somewhat exotic colour scheme and insisted on the need for universal pale blue walls which 'would make the washing look cleaner' so after some discussion and compromises changes were agreed and a target opening date was fixed.
That date was advertised by a notice in the shop entrance which also offered free washing and drying that day.
We then agreed with couple 'XY' to start supervising the following day and then presented the man (let me describe him as 'Tom') with the key to the office and the various machines' operating instructions, and the all important 'service' key whose intended function was to provide access to certain parts for servicing but happened also to provide access (if so chosen) to the cash boxes in each machine. Before long, couple 'XY' opted to take a few weeks break away and a distinct improvement in the takings coincided with their absence, which indicated that 'Tom' was robbing us by using the service key. Shortly after I removed that key and told 'Tom' I was withdrawing it since it was not strictly essential for repair work. Whereupon he flew into a rage, saying that I was insulting him with the implication of dishonesty and forthwith he and his wife both walked out, relieving me of the need to dismiss them. Thus our original aim of avoiding 'cash troubles' with the Laundromat was truly negated. Meanwhile Lucy and her photographer partner Lorys were moving in to the vacated first floor flat and noticed a terrible smell. It was evident that 'Tom' to show his displeasure with me, had raised a floor board and left several rotting fish underneath.
Lorys, in fact, for the son of a Monaco croupier, showed remarkable willingness to 'help out' with awkward crises, in fact he once stripped off and waded through the 3ft depth of stored water to free a stuck ball valve and thus saved a potentially serious situation.
In much the same way as with our first foray into the entrepreneurial world, I believe (without fully understanding why) that this our third foray into that difficult world must have also been reasonably profitable, thus fulfilling its intention.