This is Mum's second published article, which appeared in This England in 2008.
A LIVERPOOL LASS
by
PHYLLIS WHITWELL
When I was born in 1919, I already had an older brother, Austin, who was born in 1917. I was born on 28 October, which was my parents’ 3rd Wedding Anniversary - my dad always said I was a good anniversary present! and my younger brother, John, came along 3 and a half years later.
My brother John and I were very close and sometimes the two of us went to visit our mother’s father, whom we called (very formally!) “Grandad Thompson.” My mother’s family was quite well off; her father was an engineer, and he rose to become Superintendent of distribution and supplies in the Water Department for Liverpool Corporation. At the end of his career, he was responsible for the water supply for the whole of the city.
He had a large house in Mossley Hill in Liverpool; on one memorable occasion, when I was about eight years old, John and I went to visit him, and he gave us 2d - not tuppence each, but to share between us.
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| Grandfather Wilson Silver Thompson |
I said to John, "Isn't it wonderful! We can buy some chocolate!" I still love chocolate to this day, and 2d in those days bought enough chocolate for the two of us.
My younger brother was a dreadful worry to my mother, because food never bothered him. Sometimes it seemed he could live on fresh air! After seeing his impatience to be off somewhere more exciting, having hardly touched his dinner, my mother would try using bribery as a last resort: “John, will you eat it for tuppence?” Of course, John would say, “No!” My mum would try again. “Will you eat it for fourpence?” “No,” said John, “but I’ll eat it for sixpence!” Of course, he knew it was all a game and soon he was off on some adventure.
He loved to go rowing on Sefton Park Lake, and I would go with him - because he was younger than I was, I think I was meant to look after him and make sure he did things properly! However, he was good at sports and we would often go out in a boat on the lake for hours. One day, he made a mis-stroke with the oars, and one of the blades came up out of the water and hit me under the chin! My mother had a lot to say about the bruise I went home with, but was a pure accident and he was soon forgiven.
John was also a great skater; one of my best memories of him as a lad is of him coming home, his skates tied at the laces and hanging round his neck, and whistling as he came up the road.
On one occasion, he was meant to go to Grandfather Thompson’s house in Mossley Hill and, as usual, John had become engrossed in what he was doing, and arrived back home over 2 hours late! Our Grandfather was extremely cross, having imagined all sorts of terrible things that could have befallen him in the meantime. Although we had a lot more freedom in those days than most children have today, our parents and grandparents still worried about us.
My elder brother, Austin, was a very gifted musician. He had started to play the violin when he was only four years old, and it was obvious he would go far. He began learning with a quarter-sized violin, and then, as he got bigger, my dad got him a larger, half-sized instrument, and eventually he graduated to a full-sized violin. I remember Austin tucking the violin under his chin, and practicing the “shake” which made the notes resonate and vibrate as he played them, sweeping up and down the strings with the bow.
Austin practiced all the hours he could, sometimes 7 or 8 hours a day. He was very determined, and it pleased my mother a great deal, as she had dreams of him becoming a concert violinist. He certainly had all the promise of being able to achieve his ambition, but sadly fate had other ideas.
When he was only 20, he fell ill whilst he was away from home in London; he developed pneumonia, and died. There were not the effective medicines then, that are available today and it was a terrible time; somehow my younger brother, mum and dad and I all clung together and tried to make sense of the loss of such a wonderful young man. In those days there was no suggestion of therapists coming along with advice or counselling; you just had to get on with things, and get over the sad times as best you could.
My mother was always kept very busy; apart from the daily cooking and baking, she also had a regular schedule of washing, ironing and mending. In the scullery, there was a large “dolly tub,” and mum would heat the water for the washing every Monday, get all the clothes into the tub and whirl them around using the “dolly” - a large wooden paddle, that I think must have provided the inspiration for the central paddle in the old twin-tub washing machines! It was hard work, doing it all by hand, and when all the clothes and linen had been rinsed, it had to go out on the line to dry - not easy if it was a rainy Washday Monday! We also had a mangle, a device with two rollers that squeezed the water out of the clothes as you pushed them through, turning a handle on the side at the same time. Mum was always saying, “Be careful, don’t get your fingers trapped in the mangle!” Then the clothes had to be ironed and folded neatly before they could be put away in the airing cupboard.
When my brothers and I used to complain about having to go to bed early - especially on long summer evenings, when it was still light at 9.00 o’clock - my mum would send us off upstairs with the words, “When you’re all in bed, that’s when the mending basket comes out, and I have to get on with that!” She was also very good at knitting socks and had learned how to “turn the heel” as a young child. When my grand-daughter, Wendy, was born in 1973, my mum was 79 years old. She was still knitting and provided a plentiful supply of tiny socks for her great-grand-daughter!
When we were young children, every January, my brothers and I would go with our dad to our local toy shop, to pick out the present each of us would like for the following Christmas. It seemed such a long time to wait until December! and of course, you always knew what you would get. However, it helped to balance the budget for my parents, because the toys would be put away for us, and then my dad would pay a penny, or tuppence a week, for each toy, until everything was paid for; and it meant no-one got into debt buying Christmas presents that they couldn’t afford.
My mother was also very lucky with the local shop raffle for a Christmas turkey; for two years running, she picked No. 26 as the ticket she wanted, and both years, that was the number that came up! The dinner tasted all the nicer for having come as an extra bonus in that way. With no television, we enjoyed reading, and conversations round the fire; we used to listen to the radio, and enjoyed the Light Programme and the Home Programme - far better entertainment than non-stop t.v., for encouraging the imagination!
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| My mother, Alice, in 1914 |
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| My father, John Woods, in 1914 |
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