My New Website Chapter

their way to empty seats. There was always a scramble on these buses as everybody had their preferred seat next to a prefered friend.

“Come on you!” Mrs. Reford bellowed again, as Janet eagerly struggled up the high bus steps literally being pushed inside by the embittered bus lady. "Don't talk, and keep still when you sit down." She often mimicked Janet behind her back, especially when the little girl waved goodbye to her friends on reaching home, and would make sure the little 'spastic' girl saw her do this through the back of the bus. But Janet never thought of complaining to her mother; and Donald knowing the situation, never did either. Janet's stutter annoyed and irritated Mrs. Redford who made sure that the poor girl knew this and enjoyed seeing her become nervous, down hearted, and fidget even more. Spasticity, cerebral palsy, made it very difficult for the victim to gain muscle control at the most relaxed of times and situations, let alone when they were being ridiculed.

Irene often came to work with a scarf holding her hair in place and this gave her a comical but stern appearance. The turbined bus lady obviously had a psychological twist in her dealings with Janet, because her own son was dumb as well as deaf. She thought that he had good reason to make odd speech noises and be miserable, but Janet did not because she came from a two parent family, appeared to enjoy life so much, was smartly dressed, and her parent's owned their own little comfortable well-kept terraced house. Life was not fair! Irene Redford was struggling to keep a one bedroom flat in somebody else's house, and John had to sleep in the living room after any visitors had gone home!

Paradoxically, she felt a certain empathy towards Jean, who lived in a prefab in Longfellow Road, round the corner from Janet's house. She treated Jean with extreme kindness and respect because the pretty girl had no legs and so had to be carried in a shopping bag to her seat on the bus. And of course, there was poor Jennifer who was like Jean, in that she too had no legs, and so had to be carried likewise. Jennifer, who was extremely pretty and had a very happy disposition, unfortunately did not have long to live. Jean was fortunate enough to be comparatively healthy despite her sad predicament.

Other children who used her bus were from the deaf school situated at the back of the disabled one. The tall iron gates that segregated the two schools, together with the surrounding high brick wall, gave the whole place the look of a prison. When the gates opened at home time there was aways a flurry of loud noises and arms waving everywhere in the motion of some sort of sign language. These children reminded her of her son, and were welcomed by her, but Mrs. Redford could not be kind to Janet. Maybe this was because Janet's father had survived the war, but her own son's had not. Anyhow, for reasons that would baffle psychologists she vented her frustrations, anger and disappointments on this happy little girl, shouting at her when she felt like it, pushing her into the bus. If it was not this child, she would pick on some other poor unfortunate.

"Here they come!" she said to Donald smiling a little. A few children from the deaf school appeared from between the classroom blocks, their large hearing aid battery bags swinging from their being as they made their way towards the bus. Their hearing aids looked monstrous items for a child to be carrying around. Irene helped these children onto the bus. "Hello Peter." Now Peter was her favourite among the deaf children and she smiled and patted him on the arm as he made his noisy way towards the end of the mini bus: the deaf children were always noisy and the disabled were quiet.

As well as bus lady, Irene Redford was employed as the dinner lady at the school. She made all the children, with the exception of one or two favourites, eat every scrap of their dinner, especially the hated greens, and would not allow them to leave the dining table until they had done so.

“Eat those greens you!" she came behind Janet, leaning over the frightened girl, picking up a fork and forcing a load of greens into her mouth. Her turbined head turned and nodded furiously, her eyes blazing with anger. If there was a meal she knew this little girl liked,

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she purposely delayed letting her come out for seconds, making sure it was very much like a scene from Oliver Twist. When asked for more it was as if the dinner lady shouted, "More? How dare you ask, girl!"

In that school dining room, Janet felt impugned and humiliated; she eventually became too scared to ask for second helpings. The other children were always getting favoured over her.

The irascible lady also made the children hold their knife and fork correctly, and shouted at them if she thought they were talking. One afternoon she 'attacked' Janet again.

Janet stared down at the bowl of greasy pudding and custard: it smelt and looked horrible. She'd queued long enough for her afters only to find it was her most hated dish. Tears welled up seeing the dinner lady move toward's her.

"Aren't you going to eat that pudding, girl?"

Janet hung her head conscious that the rest of the diners were looking at her.

"Right, you stay behind until every bit's been eaten!" a finger was pointing at her.

Janet had sat there all afternoon staring at her bowl. Near home time, she stuffed as much of the pudding into her mouth as she could manage without choking hoping enough was cleared for Mrs Redford to let her go back to her classroom. Realizing the girl was going to be sick and it was near home time the dinner lady relented.

"You can go now girl!"

Janet ran all the way to the outside toilets which lay past the Big House on it's right side, and was violently sick down the first disgusting toilet basin that was available. The poor child never told her mother about this incident, making up her mind to put up with things. Anyway, her mother would not understand the situation and the obstreperous dinner lady would probably treat her all the worse for complaining, defending herself by making up some untrue story as to Janet's 'bad' behaviour.

This was not the only time Janet had been force-fed in this school. Every child had to have two dessert spoons of cod liver oil and malt every day. Because she did not like the smell of it, and there was a strong taste to it, refused to take her 'medicine' and had to be held down by four welfare workers while the spoon was forced into her mouth. She could not even scream. The poor girl soon got to accept the malt after a fortnight of this treatment.

I hate that malt and worse, I don't like being chased, set upon, held down and a spoon shoved down my throat.

Another thing that she came to hate and dread about this school was it's weekly medical session. This was held in an upstairs room in the Big mini mansion House. These compulsory examinations were humiliating as well as embarrassing. All the children had to undress to their knickers or pants, then walk up to the doctor and stand in front of him while others were sitting in the same large room waiting for their turn. Sometimes the parents would be there. He would look each one up and down, then look down their knickers and tell them to go. Janet thought that perhaps he did this to see if they were developing normally. Sometimes her mother was in attendance and took all this for granted, not realizing how humiliated I felt. These examinations, together with physiotherapy relaxing exercises, speech therapy having been dropped early on as it was making her extremely self conscious, became her way of life. Thank God for that! Janet was always going over these things in her mind. I must be brave and not say anything.

This is how she was learning not to complain about her lot in life and was becoming very tolerant of people and their situations. She attended Sunday school and went to brownies in St. Barnabas Church hall a few streets away from where she lived. Her friends, twins Clarinne and Claudine, became brownies for a while and she was expecting to become a section leader. That meant being in charge of, and speaking to, a group of younger brownies while instructing them in various projects. "You cant speak properly," was all she got told. Janet knew that, given the chance, she would be dedicated to this responsible job of helping others which would also help her to speak normally and build up her self confidence. The Brown Owl, Miss Jiggins, was middle aged, old fashioned and set in her ways. She would not allow the girl the chance to overcome her speech problem in such a way, even though Janet was a fast learner who could easily have made the most of the opportunities that others took for granted; and it would have given her active brain plenty of scope to develop.

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Janet's friends belonged to different Christian denominations, and she found them very helpful and protective toward's her. It was only the older and more old fashioned ones that would not give her the chance she deserved. She had so much zest for life and inner energy which was to serve her well in later years, although nobody realized this yet. She loved the Christian way of life which meant helping others less fortunate than herself, and though she did not consciously recognise this quality in herself other people had began to do so.

The school bus turned into Richmond Road from Queen's Road by the allotments, on it's onward journey in delivering the children to their homes. Janet was always among the last to be dropped off and the first to be picked up. She believed this was Mrs. Redford's way of making her rise early in the morning and arrive home late at night. Sometimes it would be five thirty in the afternoon before she arrived home after a long detour, passing the top of her road before dropping children off as far as Chingford and Higham's park. Tired and exhausted, she could not wait for bedtime and was often too tired to play with her friends.

Today was a very special day, and she did not let Mrs. Redford's pushing and shoving get her down. The infuriated bus lady nearly pushed her off the bus that night, because she could see the girl was excited and chattering away in her high pitched stammering voice about the prospect of learning music to the girl next to her.

"Hurry up and get off this bus!" she shouted at her, at the same time getting ready to push her. Blind with rage, she did not see Janet's mother come out to greet her daughter on hearing the bus draw up, and did not glimpse her standing by the open bus door which she had swung open in anger, nearly knocking Ivy Cattier over. She was normally cautious in her dealings with Janet when she saw the girl's mother. This time though, blinded by fury at the endless happy chortles coming from the girl and the fact that she was fidgety more than usual, she let out a loud bellow, while actually pushing the girl off the bus.

Ivy lunged forward and caught her daughter just in time, saying, "If I see you do that to Janet again, I shall report you to your employers. My husband is a teacher.”

Leonard indeed was a teacher at the London School of Printing, near the Elephant and Castle. He taught in the evenings to earn extra money for his family. Stephen was now growing out of his baby clothes and starting to need proper walking shoes. Janet constantly needed new shoes as she wore them out quickly.

Stunned by the voice from nowhere and the sudden appearance of Ivy from behind the bus door, a scared Mrs. Redford interjected, "I did not mean the girl any harm, I have a son who is deaf and dumb." After repeating that she would not harm any child, she quickly shut the bus door on the horrified mother, and ordered the bus driver to continue on his way, dropping the last child off on her homeward bound journey.

"Don't worry about that awful woman," Ivy spoke consolingly, ushering her tearful daughter indoors and down the narrow passageway leading to the living room, past the front room where her husband Len's parents, Harry and Alice, lived. They shared the scullery with the family, and had the front bedroom which was situated above their front living room overlooking the allotments. A steep flight of stairs divided the house between the front room and dining room opening into the scullery cum kitchen downstairs, front bedroom and two upper back bedrooms upstairs. The dining room served as the mother and daughter's very small living room which they were entering now.

The small bedroom, which was Janet's, jutted out onto the back garden, making it look as if the house had been extended, and overlooked a shed joined to the scullery below. The toilet was outside and built into the house between the scullery and the shed. The garden had a concrete path with flower beds on either side, leading to a square lawn on which grew a large Bramley apple tree. During the spring, this tree sprang to life in full blossom of pink tinged white petalled flowers, bringing a feeling of tranquillity to the garden, and in the autumn months it provided the household with many an apple pie. Ivy always enjoyed applying her favourite recipes and loved to please her happy family.

The gardens of Richmond Road and Lennox Road were back to back. As one turned right at the top of Richmond Road into Queen's Road, a few other houses, including an Off-licence on the corner of Lennox Road, completed a square with Gorden Road at the opposite end parallel to Queen's Road. Gorden Road had a long brick wall which encouraged children to play ball games and hand stands along it's side and the side of the house, with the consequence of annoying the neighbours opposite. The allotments lay adjacent and opposite Janet's row of houses, along the whole stretch of the road reaching to Queen's Road and continued straight down to Queen's Road Park towards Markhouse Road, where the 'lighthouse', a Methodist Church, stood on the left hand corner opposite. On the right hand side of Queen's Road in view of the Church was 'Truman's free house' pub.

Burglars used the wall in Gorden Road as an access route, traversing the rows of houses; the bomb damage in Richmond Road making their escape easier. Janet's house had been broken into twice. The sash windows were easy to force open, and Alice Cattier was always the one to raise the alarm as she was the first to rise, at six am, in the morning. The twins, who lived six doors away along the row of houses in Lennox Road, also fell prey to burglaries, as their back garden led directly onto the bomb damage in Richmond Road.

"Go and sit next to Stephen, while I get you a drink and don't you go worrying about that awful woman Janet dear." Janet's baby brother, Stephen, was asleep in the corner of the little dining room which had a sash window looking onto the garden path. Ivy always put him in his pram by the cupboard under the stairs during the daytime, and the smell of his recent bathing and nappy changing lingered but not disagreeably. Janet was glad to have a brother, and had changed her tomboy ways when he was born.

"W w w What's th that!" Janet had exclaimed watching Ivy bath her newborn baby brother. She had just spent a fortnight at her aunt Bessie', her mother's sister, to give her mother a break, and to teach her a thing or two about behaving!

"You are a little girl and he is a baby boy." There would be one too many boys to compete with now. She had gone straight upstairs to her bedroom which adjoined her mother's and changed into a pretty frock. This was after the shock of seeing what little boys were made of. When Ivy had caught a glimpse of her daughter going out the back door to call her friend Lyndsey, she had given a quiet sigh of relief, "That has cured her of wearing trousers!"

The style of these houses placed them as being built approximately around the turn of the twentieth century. As well as the sashed windows, they had iron fire places in every room. Janet often climbed out of her bedroom window, stepping onto the roof to enable her to pick pears from Mrs Fox's huge pear tree which grew to her left by the shed in the garden next door. The two hallways were joined side by side with the front doors next to each other. Often when she was naughty and thrown into the hall by her mother, Janet's screaming could be heard quite clearly and loudly next door by Mrs. Fox and her daughter, Edith, a school teacher whose main subject was French. Edith had been taught to read at the age of three years by her father who was a postman who had unfortunately died of consumption when she was in her early teens.

“00h..... mum!" cooed Janet, not being able to contain her excitement and having instantly forgotten about the awful Mrs. Redford. To Ivy's surprise, she was beginning to understand her daughter's speech a little; a strange thing had occurred in that Janet had almost stopped stuttering. "A man came to our class, today, and told us he will teach us music. Can you buy me a recorder? He also said we will need a green recorder book 1!"

Surprised at her daughter's eagerness to learn, Ivy questioned her further as to who this man was, before she made the further comment. "Wait until your father gets home from work and we will discuss this tonight." Janet often had her auburn hair done in plaits and today they were especially noticeable, framing her delightful eager face. The blue satin ribbons were new, bought in the haberdashery opposite the 'Lighthouse' in Markhouse Road.

It was Thursday, and was one of Len's late teaching nights. The College came under the LCC, short for London County Council. During the day he worked as a Lithographic printer for a firm that printed book covers, Vogue pattern sleeves, and pictures, etc. For his teaching position, he had been selected from among several applicants, some of whom had University Degrees in the subject. His employers had said that they liked Len's approach to his subject, as well as his vocal skills and experience.

Janet had been to a Christmas party at the School of Printing the previous year, and had shown an avid fascination for the art work pinned round the walls and the innovative Christmas decorations put together by the students for the children. She now eagerly awaited her father's return home from college, and played with her Bayco set in the dining room after the tea things had been cleared away.

'Bayco' was a plastic red and white brick building project that came in graded boxes; the various parts could also be bought separately. It came with metal rods and green bases that had to be screwed together. The bases had symmetrical holes all over, in which to fix the metal rods. The little red and white bricks were slid down the rods, gradually building the walls of a model house like a real brick layer. Then windows, red sloping roofs, turrets, and pinnacle roofs were added, along with a garden. Christmas was the time when she put in her order for the next grade. She eventually obtained the top one, containing a diagram and the components for building quite a large model pier; which had been bought last Christmas with her father's end of year bonus. Len and Ivy saw their daughter occupied for hours building this very complicated pier. They got great pleasure seeing her follow the diagram, despite the difficulties with her awkward weak hands; she would just try and try, again and again, and persevere. She just would not give up.

She had done the same with the skipping rope. The girl next door, on the right, could skip almost as soon as she walked. Poor Janet had resigned herself to watching the younger girl from her parents middle bedroom window overlooking the gardens. Even though she was two years older than Lyndsey, she could not raise her hands above her head, let alone grip a skipping rope! It took her hours of practice to learn to hold the rope, for her right arm refused to move at all. Patience again paid off, for within months she was competing quite nicely with the girl next door, and often held competitions to see who could skip the longest! Eventually, she even skipped crossing her arms, just as Lyndsey was able to do.

The same perseverance was required in learning to juggle two balls against the wall! The noise was almost too much for her parents to bear, as the persistent hammering of the balls against either the toilet wooden door or the brick kitchen wall continued at every opportune moment that she could procure.

Janet often saved her pocket money to buy parts to add to her expanding Bayco set. She would collect Corona soft drink bottles for the money on the returns. She also gathered old rags such as discarded curtains, jumpers, and dresses, to sell for a few pence to the rag-man who had a yard off an alley round the corner, in Longfellow Road. When she thought she had enough money saved, she made her way to the doll's hospital, down Gosport Road, a turning off Queen's Road at the top of where she lived, under the railway bridge, and then into Walthamstow High Street. The doll's hospital shop was across the road. The shop sold every conceivable toy and doll, including boxes of Bayco parts, called Bayco because most of the parts were made out of bacalite plastic.

Opposite the alley on the corner of Lennox Road and Longfellow Road was Elsie's sweet shop, where Janet and her friends bought their sherbet dabs and penny gob stoppers. Elsie sold an assortment of goods including cakes, biscuits, ham sliced off the bone, huge blocks of cheese, and paraffin. During the freezing spells of the winter months there would be bundles of fire wood and bags of coal, inside and outside the shop. Ivy only shopped there when necessary, and often sent her daughter "round the corner" for some forgotten purchase. Janet hated shopping for her mother, for she would stutter away nervously trying desperately to make herself understood at the counter while a queue developed inside the shop; she would not have a written list to hand to Elsie for this belittled her

Janet was also interested in chemistry. She had her own chemistry set and amused herself making soaps and stink bombs etc. until teatimes on the rare occasions she had arrived home from school early because Mrs. Radford was away and they had a different bus lady.

Some mischievous local Girl Guides, were encouraging the brownies to make stink bombs and put them through the letterbox of the Brown Owl and Guide Captain, Miss Jiggins, her house being next to the church hall where the meetings were held. These girls lived in Gorden Road which adjoined Richmond Road, and Janet often came home from her brownie meetings with them. Sometimes she became involved in their many mischievous schemes. One awful game was 'knock down ginger' which involved knocking on peoples doors and running away. Sometimes they got caught and were reported to Miss Jiggins who severely reprimanded them. On the whole she was a good sport, or at least Miss Jiggins thought this of herself. Her Brownie pack was quite large and met on Friday evenings. That Thursday evening, after the "set to" with Mrs. Redford, Janet was feeling very contented as well as excited and least like eating her tea which consisted of sardines on toast, her favourite being grated cheese and tomato. While baby Stephen was being fed in his high chair by Ivy, Janet slipped out of her seat, leaving most of her tea, and went to her grandparents room to tell them the day's events. Then it was early to bed, ready for school on Friday morning. She would not forget her Brownie meeting the next evening.

The school bus turned left into Hale End Road from the direction of the Water Works and the railway bridge at the top of Forest Road and then left again through the school's high wrought iron ornamental gates.

"Here come the herd! The sight of them make you sick," the bus lady spat out tersely as Donald, a balding stout middle aged little man, drove carefully round the three foot high approximately twenty foot in diameter bricked circular garden towards the parking bay at the front right of the 'Big House', a tall gray bricked Victorian building forming an imposing silhouette against the azure blue May sky. The sound of the school's hand bell was ringing in the playground; a duty performed everyday at home time by Mrs Sanford, a silver haired stout motherly type, the school's house mother.The children were already spilling out of their prefabricated classrooms.

Donald was in no mood for the irascible woman's sour comment, "I don't know about that love. Look lady, I have a sick wife at home, and these children have had it hard. Can't you accept that?"

"I am Mrs. Redford to you, and I'm not your love!"

"As you say, Mrs."

"Well!" Mrs Redford shifted uncomfortably in her seat beside Donald as he brought the school's bottle green mini-bus to an abrupt halt within inches of the little flower garden which flanked the edge of the main hall window, the top of which was just visible above the basement of the Big House. The sick and disabled children began forming small lines besides their appropriate green mini bus.

"Hurry up you lot, we haven't got all night

Donald shook his head sadly: he knew the bus lady felt no remorse for her nasty comments. She was staring ahead, fixed rigidly in her seat while the queue grew on her side of the bus.

Mrs Irene Redford began letting the children onto the school bus. Not leaving her seat, they struggled up the high step, squeezing past her to the seats at the back. It was not in her nature to help these disabled youngsters on and off the bus, and Donald often had to oblige.

She had been doing the job of 'bus lady' in Hale End Road Open Air School for sick and disabled children, of all ages, ever since her husband, Harold, was reported missing during the 2nd World War five years ago, and later listed as killed in active service. As she had a deaf and dumb son, John, to support, the money came as a handy supplement to her widow's pension. It had taken some time for the information of Harold's death to get through 'the system'. Because he had been "missing" for a few months, the hope that he was still alive, perhaps taken prisoner by the Germans, had long kept her spirits going. She would never forget that knock on the door of her parents three bedroomed semi in Leyton where she had been staying since Harold's despatch over seas.

"Does a Mrs Irene Redford live here?” the uniformed army officer had said in the usual officious tone.

"This is I."

"Can I come in?"

Taking off his cap, slipping it under his left armpit, the officer stepped inside the now wide open front door. Taking care to wipe his feet on the doormat that had 'Welcome' inscribed on it, he walked slowly down the narrow hallway where he passed a wedding picture of Irene and Harold, and into the lounge. Major Crankthorpe looked sympathetically at the new widow. He hated his job at times like this.

I think you had better sit down.”

What is it, what is it?” Irene flopped down on a nearby arm chair, not daring to look at him. She was wearing a rose patterned floral dress and her long hair curled round her neck. She clasped her hands in her lap dreading the officer's message.

"I am afraid your husband has been killed in France.''

Without a word Irene rushed upstairs and threw herself on the double bed she and Harold had shared, sobbing uncontrollably into a pillow. How am I to tell John. Their deaf and dumb son doted on his father...

The harsh reality that she was left alone in the world had prompted her to apply for this job. The fact that she may not be suited to such a task, and that she might start taking her resentments at the cruelties of life out on these unfortunate children, did not come into the equation.

I can't wait to get home to ask mum if she can buy me a recorder, Janet thought as she made her way with her beige bag hanging from her left shoulder to where her bus was waiting at the foot of the circular medium height walled garden. She never ceased to marvel at the trees and bushes growing in it.

As Janet approached the bus, Mrs. Redford dressed in what looked like a turban hat and dull navy blue coat, was like a big black panther staring at her. I don't like her: she's always picking on me!

Ignoring the present happy atmosphere of this sunny May day which was promising good fortune for all in the school, Irene let her bitterness engulf her whole being. All because of the fate life had chanced to serve on her.

The education authorities kept her on their payroll because they could not fault her extreme efficiency and chose to ignore the intermittent complaints from some of the children's parents. One was inclined to think that they kept her in employment out of pity, rather than her sympathetic and administrative qualities. This was one of the enigmatic results of the end to the nation's conflict; almost as if the administration had developed a guilt complex

"Hurry up! You lot are delaying the driver. We want to arrive home today and not tomorrow!” She violently spat out the words, her voice rising to a crescendo, as the children entered the bus and made their way to empty seats. There was always a scramble on these buses as everybody had their preferred seat next to a favourite friend.

"Come on you!” Mrs. Redford bellowed again, as Janet eagerly struggled up the high bus steps literally being pushed inside by the embittered bus lady. "Don't talk, and keep still when you sit down." She often mimicked Janet behind her back, especially when the little girl waved goodbye to her friends on reaching home, and would make sure the little 'spastic' girl saw her do this through the back of the bus. But Janet never thought of complaining to her mother; and neither did Donald, knowing the bus lady's situation. Janet's stutter annoyed and irritated Mrs. Redford who made sure the poor girl knew this, and enjoyed seeing her become nervous, down hearted, and fidget even more. Spasticity made it very difficult for the victim to gain muscle control at the most relaxed of times, let alone when they were being ridiculed.

Irene often came to work with a scarf holding her hair in place and this gave her a comical but stern appearance. The turbaned bus lady obviously had a psychological twist in her dealings with Janet, because her own son was dumb as well as deaf. She thought that he had good reason to make odd speech noises and be miserable, but Janet did not because she came from a two parent family, appeared to enjoy life so much, was smartly dressed, and her parent's owned their own little comfortable well-kept terraced house. Life was not fair! She was struggling to keep a one bedroom flat in somebody else's house, and John had to sleep in the living room after any visitors had gone home! After the war she had decided to leave her parents' house to provide for John on her own.

Paradoxically, she felt a certain empathy toward's Jean, who lived in a prefab in Longfellow Road, round the corner from Janet's house. She treated Jean with extreme kindness and respect because the pretty girl had no legs and so had to be carried in a shopping bag to her seat on the bus. Jean was always the next one to be picked up after Janet in the morning. And of course, there was poor Jennifer who was like Jean, in that she too had no legs, and had to be carried likewise. Jennifer was extremely pretty and had a very happy disposition but, unfortunately, did not have long to live. Jean was fortunate enough to be comparatively healthy despite her sad predicament.

Other children who used her bus were from the deaf school, situated at the back of the disabled one. The tall iron gates that segregated the two schools, together with the surrounding high brick wall, gave the whole place the look of a prison. When the gates opened at home time there was always a flurry of loud noises and arms waving everywhere in the motion of some sort of sign language as they made there way, between the twin prefabricated class blocks of the disabled school, towards the parking bay in front of the Big House. These children reminded her of her son, and were welcomed by her, but Mrs. Redford could not be kind to Janet. This could have been because Janet's father had survived the war, but her own son's had not. Anyhow, for reasons that would baffle psychologists she vented her frustrations, anger, and disappointments on this happy little girl, shouting at her when she felt like it, pushing her into and off the bus. If it was not this child, she would have picked on some other poor unfortunate.

"Here they come!" she said to Donald, smiling a little. A few children from the deaf school appeared from between the prefabricated classroom blocks, their large hearing aid battery bags swinging from their being as they made their way toward's the bus. Their hearing aids looked monstrous items for a child to be carrying around and some wore head phones connected to the bags. Irene helped these children onto the bus, her demeanour completely changing from sour to pleasant.

"Hello Peter, how are you today?"

Dark haired Peter mumbled something incomprehensible as he sidled past her, his eyes sparkling as he knew he was her favourite among the deaf and dumb children. She smiled and patted him on the arm as he made his noisy way towards the end of the mini bus.

The deaf children were always noisy, and did not appear to annoy the enigmatic bus lady; but the physically disabled had to remain quiet and still.

As well as bus lady, Irene Redford was employed as the dinner lady at the school. She made all the children, with the exception of one or two favourites, eat every scrap of their dinner, especially the hated greens, and would not allow them to leave the dining table until they had done so.

Eat those greens you!" She came behind Janet, leaning over the frightened girl, picking up a fork and forcing a load of greens into her mouth. Her turbaned head turned and nodded furiously, her eyes blazing with anger. If there was a meal she knew this little girl liked, Irene purposely delayed letting her come out for seconds, making sure it was very much like a scene from Oliver Twist. When asked for more it was as if the dinner lady shouted, "More? How dare you ask, girl!"

In that school dining room, Janet felt impugned and humiliated; she became too scared to ask for second helpings. The other children were always getting favoured over her.

The irascible lady also made the children hold their knife and fork correctly, and shouted at them if she thought they were talking. One afternoon she 'attacked' Janet again.

Janet stared down at the bowl of greasy pudding and custard: it smelt and looked horrible. She'd queued long enough for her afters only to find it was her most hated dish. Tears welled up seeing the dinner lady move toward her.

"Aren't you going to eat that pudding, girl?"

Janet hung her head conscious that the rest of the other diners were staring at her.

"Right, you stay behind until every bit's been eaten!" a finger was pointing at her.

As the other diners made their way to the exit or afternoon classes or rest time - the younger children had to have an hour's sleep on beds lined side by side in the hall – Janet felt humiliated and conspicuous left on her own in the dining room watched over by Mrs Redford. She sat there all afternoon staring at her bowl. Near home time, she stuffed as much of the pudding into her mouth as she could manage without choking, hoping enough was cleared in the dish for Mrs Redford to let her go back to her classroom. Realizing the girl was going to be sick, and it was near home time, the dinner lady relented.

"You can go now girl!" She said forcibly coming up to Janet and snatching the bowl away from the table.

Without needing a second telling, Janet gingerly pushed her chair from the dining table and carefully replaced it. Once outside, she ran all the way to the outside toilets which lay past the Big House to the left, and was violently sick down the first disgusting available toilet bowl. The poor girl never told her mother about this incident with Mrs. Redford, making up her mind to put up with things. Anyway, her mother would not understand the situation and the obstreperous dinner lady would probably treat her all the worse for complaining, defending herself by making up some untrue story as to Janet's 'bad' behaviour.

This was not the only time Janet had been force-fed in this Open Air school. Every child had to have two dessert spoons of cod liver oil and malt every day. She was new in the school at the time, and because she did not like the look of it in the large brown bottles and the smell of it, there was a strong taste to it, Janet refused to take her 'medicine' and turned and ran down the corridor of the welfare department into the playground next to the toilets.

"Quick go after her!” was the loud shout behind her. Four nurses in white overalls grabbed hold of Janet, dragged her down the corridor to the room where the malt was, and held the screaming girl down while the spoon of malt and cod liver oil was forced into her mouth. Janet could not even scream after this assault. The poor girl soon got to accept the malt after a fortnight of this treatment, and actually grew to like it!.

I hate that malt and worse, I don't like being chased, set upon, held down and a spoon shoved down my throat.

Another thing that she came to hate and dread about this school was it's weekly medical session. This was held in an upstairs room in the Big House. These compulsory examinations were humiliating as well as embarrassing. All the children had to undress to their knickers or pants, then walk up to the doctor and stand in front of him and a panel of welfare workers all dressed in suit and ties while other older children were sitting in the same large room waiting for their turn. Sometimes the parents would be there. He would look each one up and down, then look down their knickers and tell them to go. Janet thought that perhaps he did this to see if they were developing normally, and asked her mother who thought the same thing. Sometimes her mother was in attendance and took all this for granted, not realising how humiliated I felt. These examinations, together with physiotherapy relaxing exercises, speech therapy having been dropped early on as it was making her extremely self conscious, became her way of life. Thank God for that! Janet was always going over these things in her mind. I must be brave and not say anything. The relaxing session were good. She had to lie on her back on the floor with a cushion under her ankles; the physiotherapist, Miss Hemmings, then encouraged her to relax by going through the muscles in her body starting with her toes of the right leg. Then taking a deep breath every time Janet spoke out that particular muscle or body part, right up to the head, eyes mouth, neck and then down her left side to her toes.

I am editing this chapter to make the characters stand out, and to get rid of any 'school girl English'. Jill Sharpe, my OU tutor, spoke about this but never explained what that was... I been doing courses all my life in music and writing. Studying Pitman's shorthand, music, French, the Bible, sewing; even studying on the beach whilst on holiday. My website is a good way of preserving all my work, as I certainly do not want to have it put on a 'bombfire' when I go.

I have fourteen chapters of this novel to edit, and many more poetic stories. Also, many more music compositions and arrangements to put on this site. Yes, I always had my nose in a book everywhere I went.

I have no energy left to do the publisher round.

Lily Pavey, the music typewriter inventor, wanted me to demonstrate her modern version of this fascinating equipment on television. I was to have a studio car sent to pick me up at my house in Colchester. I wonder if my then husband, Daniel, vetoed this. He never seemed to get on with people for long. One sunny afternoon, I went over to see my mother who lived acros the road to me at the time: ahe had to sell her semi in Abridge quickly and cheaply as Severals Hospital were threatening to send my brother back to Claybury Hospital, Woodford, where he had been severely ill treated. This is well documented in the newspapers during the 1970s and 80s. After a long illness, he was found to have cerebral allergies and keeps as well as he can on a special diet for coeliacs.

I went over to my mother's one sunny afternoon.She was watching tv sitting in her usual comfortable arm chair. A cup of tea in a bone china floral cup and saucer, with the inscription May, was on a little table beside her. Mom was always neat, clean and tidy, with everything in it's place.

"Look what's just started on tv dear," she said pointing to the tv screen ,"aren't you suppose to be on that program?"

"Gosh, so I was!" I exclaimed, putting hand over my mouth to stop me blaspheming. There was Lily Pavey as large as life on my mum's tv screen, demonstrating her latest version of her invention - the musical typewriter. I had her original version in my house: I was given it by Bert and Lily Lyon of Wingfield when I was living in Chigwell, Essex, before moving to Colchester. But Barbara Cook asked for it back, for Butch to use, in the 1990s. I was now living in Colchester at this time. But the typewriter did make my wrists ache, carrying it about the house as it weighed a ton; it looked like a complicated old fashioned typewriter. The new version looked like a modern typewriter and was grey blue in colour. I wrote my musical arrangements for Colchester's Colne Endeavour Band on this amazing piece of equipment!

This is the edited version.

. This is how she was learning not to complain about her lot in life and was becoming very tolerant of people and their situations. She attended Sunday school and went to brownies in Saint Barnabas Church hall a few streets away from where she lived. She loved it when her and her mother, Ivy, went to Even Song on Sundays, but could not hear what the Vicar was saying. Her friend Christine Shearing from Lennox road near Elsie's sweet shop, went to church with Janet when they were both three years old, and Janet loved the hymn 'Now The Day is Over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening, Steal across the sky'; and because she loved that tune she begged her mother to buy her that same hymn book. Her friends, twins Carol and Christine, became brownies for a while and Janet was expecting to become a section leader. Janet loved the smell of the hall and its equipment, a bit like sandalwood Being a section leader meant being in charge of, and speaking to, a group of younger brownies while instructing them in various projects.

"You cant speak properly," was all she was told by Miss Jiggins, the Brown Owl, who spoke over her head to another girl who was the Vicar's daughter, “You will be in charge of this group, Abigail, now Penny has left to join the Girl Guides. Janet was completely ignored and felt humiliated. They continued the session with game, puzzles and a new project of raffia work.

But, but,' the little girl had stuttered, to protest that it was really her turn. Janet knew that, given the chance, she would be dedicated to this responsible job of helping others which would also help her to speak normally and build up her self confidence. The Brown Owl, Miss Jiggins, was middle aged, old fashioned and set in her ways. She would not allow the girl the chance to overcome her speech problem in such a way, even though Janet was a fast learner who could easily have made the most of the opportunities that others took for granted; and it would have given her active brain plenty of scope to develop. Miss Jiggins was encouraging Janet's mother to attend Church services by visiting her regularly. She was a short grey haired spinster who had time on her hands, and lived next door to the church hall round he corner to St. Barnabas Road. The church was on that corner amongst the neat little terraced houses in the tree lined streets. Not too far from where Janet lived.

Janet's friends belonged to different Christian denominations, and she found them very helpful and protective towards her. It was only the older and more old fashioned 'old biddies' that would not give her the chance she deserved. She had so much zest for life and inner energy which was to serve her well in later years, although nobody realised this yet. She loved the Christian way of life which meant helping others less fortunate than herself, and though she did not consciously recognise this quality in herself other people had began to do so.

The school bus turned into Richmond Road from Queen's Road by the allotments, on it's onward journey in delivering the children to their homes. Janet was always among the last to be dropped off and the first to be picked up. She believed this was Mrs. Redford's way of making her rise early in the morning and arrive home late at night. Sometimes it would be five thirty in the afternoon before she arrived home after a long detour, passing the top of her road before dropping children off as far as Chingford, Epping Forest, Woodford and the posh are of Higham's Park. A doctors daughter, Jennifer Harrison, had just joined Hale End Open Air School, and she too needed picking up and dropping off from her home. Tired and exhausted, Janet could not wait for bedtime and was often too tired to play with her friends.

However. today was a very special day, and she did not let Mrs. Redford's pushing and shoving get her down. The infuriated bus lady pushed her off the bus that night, because she could see the girl was excited and chattering away in her high pitched stammering voice about the prospect of learning music to the girl next to her.

"Hurry up and get off this bus!" she shouted at her, at the same time getting ready to push her. Blind with rage, she did not see Janet's mother come out to greet her daughter on hearing the bus draw up, and did not glimpse her standing behind the open bus door which she had swung open in anger, nearly knocking Ivy Cattier over. She was normally cautious in her dealings with Janet when she saw the girl's mother. This time though, blinded by fury at the endless happy chortles coming from the girl and the fact that she was fidgety more than usual, she let out a loud bellow, while actually pushing the girl off the bus. Donald stared inanely ahead at the shingled road. The allotments at his right side of his drivers seat distracted him a little. He had learnt not to mess with the obnoxious bus lady.

Wha the...” With a slight cry of surprised shock, Ivy lunged forward and caught her daughter just in time, saying, "If I see you do that to Janet again, I shall report you to your employers. My husband is a teacher.”

Leonard indeed was a teacher at the London School of Printing, near the Elephant and Castle. He taught in the evenings to earn extra money for his family. Stephen was now growing out of his baby clothes and starting to need proper walking shoes. Janet constantly needed new ones as she wore them out quickly. Great Ormond Street Hospital had put steel plates on the bottoms of her shoes in her earlier years to encourage her legs to straighten: she had walked knock kneed. This made her walk on the outside edge of her feet which was not good for her shoes.

"I did not mean the girl any harm, I have a son who is deaf and dumb," the bus lady interjected.

Stunned by the voice from nowhere and the sudden appearance of Ivy from behind the bus door, a scared Mrs. Redford, not knowing how to deal with the 'tables turning' now on her, went as white as a sheet. After repeating that she would not harm any child, she quickly shut the bus door on the horrified mother, and ordered the bus driver to continue on his way, dropping the last child off on her homeward bound journey.

"Don't worry about that awful woman," Ivy spoke consolingly, ushering her tearful distraught daughter indoors and down the narrow passageway leading to the living room, past the front room where her husband Len's parents, Harry and Alice, lived. They shared the scullery with the family, and had the front bedroom which was situated above their front living room overlooking the allotments. A steep flight of stairs divided the house between front room and dining room which opened into the narrow the scullery cum kitchen jutting out into the garden. At the top of the stairs was a small landing with the front bedroom on the right and two upper back bedrooms on the left, of which the third, which was Janet's, was accessible through Len and Ivy's room, the 'middle' bedroom. The dining room served as the mother and daughter's very small living room which they were entering now. Every window was sashed which made it easy for burglars to break into the house.

Janet's was small and narrow, the same size as the kitchen and jutted out onto the back garden, making it look as if the house had been extended. It overlooked a shed joined to the scullery below. The toilet was outside and built into the house at the end of the scullery and was next to the shed. The fifty foot narrow garden had a concrete path with flower beds on either side, leading to a square lawn on which grew a large Bramley apple tree. During the spring, this tree sprang to life in full blossom of pink tinged white petalled flowers, bringing a feeling of tranquillity, and during the autumn months it provided the household with apple pies: Ivy enjoyed applying her favourite recipes to please her happy family.

The gardens of Richmond Road and Lennox Road were back to back. As one turned right at the top of Richmond Road into Queen's Road, a few other houses, including an Off-licence on the corner of Lennox Road, completed a square with Gordon Road at the opposite end parallel to Queen's Road. Gordon Road had a long brick wall as you turned left out of Richmond Road which encouraged children to play ball games and hand stands along it's side, and the side of the house, which annoyed the neighbours opposite. The allotments were opposite Janet's row of houses along the whole stretch of the road reaching to Queen's Road and continued straight down the left to Queen's Road Park toward's Mark house Road where the 'lighthouse', a Methodist Church, stood on the left hand corner opposite. On the right hand side of Queen's Road in view of the Church was 'Truman's free house' pub.

Burglars used the wall in Gordon Road as an access route, traversing the rows of houses climbing over three foot fences as the bomb damage in Richmond Road made their escape easier. Janet's house had been broken into twice. The sash windows were easy to force open, and Alice Cattier was always the one to raise the alarm as she was the first to rise at six am in the morning, being the one to stoke the fire embers in the grates. She was always smartly dressed, in a blue front buttoned dress that her daughter made her, even at this time of day. The twins, who lived six houses away in Lennox Road, also fell foul to burglaries: their back garden led directly onto the bomb site in Richmond Road.

"You go stay here in the dining room, while I get you a drink and don't you go worrying about that awful woman Janet dear." Ivy stepped into the scullery which had a step downwards. She was concerned about what Janet must be going through with that awful bus lady. But I wont report her this time.

Janet's baby brother, Stephen, was asleep in the corner of the little dining room which had a sash window looking onto the garden path. Ivy always put him in his pram by the cupboard under the stairs during the daytime, and the smell of his recent bathing and nappy changing lingered but not disagreeably. Janet was glad to have a brother, and had changed her tomboy ways when he was born.

"W w w What's th that!" Janet had exclaimed watching Ivy bath her newborn baby brother. She had just spent a fortnight at her aunt Bessie', her mother's sister, to give her mother a break, and to teach her a thing or two about behaving! She remembered the awful time when her aunt had chastised her youngest son Johnny, must be about twelve years old. He had been marching round the dining room table with the busby style tea cosy on he head pretending to be soldier. All of a sudden two arms reached out from nowhere grabbed him pulled him through the door. That a the last Janet saw of her cousin. He was not given any tea. That evening.

"You are a little girl and he is a baby boy," said Ivy bathing Stephen.

There would be one too many boys to compete with now. She had gone straight upstairs to her bedroom which adjoined her mother's and changed into a pretty frock. This was after the shock of seeing what little boys were made of, and did not at to be like him!

When Ivy had caught a glimpse of her daughter going out the back door to call her friend Lindsey next door who also had a new baby brother, Mark, she had given a quiet sigh of relief, "Thank God. That has cured her of wearing trousers!"

The style of these houses placed them as being built approximately around the turn of the twentieth century. As well as the sashed windows, they had iron fire places in every room. Janet often climbed out of her bedroom window, with pink ribbon in her hair, stepping onto the roof to enable her to pick pears from Mrs Fox's huge pear tree which grew to her left by the shed in the garden next door. The two hallways were joined side by side with the front doors next to each other. Often when she was naughty and thrown into the hall by her mother, Janet's screaming could be heard quite clearly and loudly next door by Mrs. Fox and her daughter, Edith, a school teacher whose main subject was French. Edith had been taught to read at the age of three years by her father who was a postman who had unfortunately died of consumption when she was very young.

"00h..... mum!" cooed Janet, not being able to contain her excitement and having instantly forgotten about the awful Mrs. Redford.

To Ivy's surprise, she was beginning to understand her daughter's speech a little; a strange thing had occurred in that Janet had almost stopped stuttering.

"A man came to our class, today, and told us he will teach us music. Can you buy me a recorder? He also said we will need a green recorder book 1!"

Surprised at her daughter's eagerness to learn, Ivy questioned her further as to who this man was, before she made the further comment. "Wait until your father gets home from work and we will discuss this tonight." Janet often had her auburn hair done in plaits and today they were especially noticeable, framing her delightful eager face. The blue satin ribbons were new, bought in the haberdashery opposite the 'Lighthouse' in Mark house Road.

It was Thursday, and was one of Len's late teaching nights. The College came under the LCC, short for London County Council. During the day he worked as a Lithographic printer for a firm that printed book covers, Vogue pattern sleeves, and pictures, etc. Some of his litho prints of old documents, to preserve the ancient ones, were exhibited in the British Museum. For his teaching position, he had been selected from among several applicants, some of whom had University Degrees in the subject. His employers had said that they liked Len's approach to his subject, as well as his vocal skills and experience.

Janet loved the Christmas party's at the School of Printing: and shown an avid fascination for the art work pinned round the walls and the innovative Christmas decorations put together by the students for the children. She now eagerly awaited her father's return home from college, and played with her Bayco set in the dining room after the tea things had been cleared away.

'Bayco' was a plastic red and white brick building project that came in graded boxes; the various parts could also be bought separately. It came with metal rods and green bases that had to be screwed together. The bases had symmetrical holes all over, in which to fix the metal rods. The little red and white bricks were slid down the rods, gradually building the walls of a model house like a real brick layer. Then windows, red sloping roofs, turrets, and pinnacle roofs were added, along with a garden. Christmas was the time when she put in her order for the next grade. She eventually obtained the top one, containing a diagram and the components for building quite a large model pier; which had been bought last Christmas with her father's end of year bonus. Len and Ivy saw their daughter occupied for hours building this very complicated pier. They got great pleasure seeing her follow the diagram, despite the difficulties with her awkward weak hands; she would just try and try, again and again, and persevere. She just would not give up; she had previously been bought a beginner's set, but showed her displeasure by indicating she wanted the top model, the pier, not the small simple house!

She did the same with the skipping rope. The girl next door, on the right, Lyndsey, could skip almost as soon as she walked. Poor Janet had resigned herself to watching the younger girl from her parents middle bedroom window overlooking the gardens. Even though she was two years older than Lindsey, she could not raise her hands above her head, or comb her hair, let alone grip a skipping rope! It took her hours of practise to learn to hold the rope, for her right arm refused to move at all.

"Look at Janet trying to skip!” Alice, who arose early to do the grates and get her husband, Harry who was a French Polisher in the West End of London, off to work, would comment to Ivy and Len. “That girl rises early to practise. She will soon be beating the other girls! Just look at that determination.”

Patience again paid off, for within months Janet was competing quite nicely with the girl next door, and the pair often held competitions to see who could skip the longest! Eventually, she even skipped crossing her arms, just as Lindsey was able to do.

"Well done Janet,” Lindsey would call out, rolling up her rope to go indoors. She was a great encouragement to her friend.

The same perseverance was required in learning to juggle two balls against the wall! Again Lyndsey was there to offer Janet encouragement. The noise was almost too much for her parents to bear, as the persistent hammering of the balls against either the toilet wooden door or the brick kitchen wall continued at every opportune moment that she could procure. The two girls were always a bundle of excitement.

Janet often saved her pocket money to buy parts to add to her expanding Bayco set. She would collect Corona soft drink bottles for the money on the returns: Lester's Newsagent's on the corner of Gosport Road and Queen's Road, and Elsie's convenience shop on the corner of Longfellow Road and Lennox Road where another of Janet's friends Christine Sheering lived a couple of doors away. She also gathered old rags such as discarded curtains, jumpers, and dresses, to sell for a few pence to the rag-man who had a yard off an alley round the corner, in Longfellow Road. When she thought she had enough money saved, she made her way to the doll's hospital, down Gosport Road, a turning off Queen's Road at the top of where she lived, under the railway bridge, and then into Walthamstow High Street. The doll's hospital shop was across the road. The shop sold every conceivable toy and doll, including boxes of Bayco parts, called Bayco because most of the parts were made out of Bakelite plastic it was conceived.

Elsie's was opposite the alley across Longfellow, and this was where Janet and her friends bought their sherbet dabs and penny gob stoppers. Elsie sold an assortment of goods including cakes, biscuits, ham sliced off the bone, huge blocks of cheese, and paraffin. During the freezing spells of the winter months there would be bundles of fire wood and bags of coal, inside and outside the shop. Ivy only shopped there when necessary, and often sent her daughter "round the corner" for some forgotten purchase. Janet hated shopping for her mother, for she would stutter away nervously trying desperately to make herself understood at the counter while a queue developed inside the shop; she would not have a written list to hand to Elsie for this belittled her.

"Ccccc an Iiiii hhhhave,” then Janet would point at the goods she wanted. She did this ever since she was three years old and could just about walk. Ivy often sent her daughter on errands.

Janet was also interested in chemistry, and had her own chemistry set, obtained in the Christmas pillow full of presents placed by Len beside her bed Christmas Eve first making sure she was asleep. She amused herself making soaps and stink bombs etc. until teatime, on the rare occasions she had arrived home from school early because Mrs. Redford was away and they had a different bus lady, who was the antithesis of Irene Redford.

Some mischievous local Girl Guides, were encouraging the brownies to make stink bombs and put them through the letterbox of the Brown Owl and Guide Captain, Miss Jiggins, her house being next to the church hall where the meetings were held.

"Come on lets do a mixture of toothpaste soap and other awful chemicals.” They giggled on there way home from church or Guide meetings.

Some of these girls lived in Gordon Road which adjoined Richmond Road, and Janet often came home from her brownie meetings with them. Sometimes she became involved in their many mischievous schemes. One awful game, though exciting, was 'knock down ginger' which involved knocking on peoples doors and running away. Sometimes they got caught and were reported to Miss Jiggins who severely reprimanded them. On the whole she was a good sport, or at least Miss Jiggins thought this of herself. Her Brownie pack was quite large and met on Friday evenings. The brown uniforms and yellow folded tie gave the little girls a smart appearance. She, however, was middle aged and dressed herself in a dark brown blouse with a dark scarf for a tie, and navy skirt. The meeting hall was next door to her house, laying back, parallel with her back garden.

That Thursday evening, after the "set to" with Mrs. Redford, Janet was feeling very contented as well as excited and least like eating her tea which consisted of sardines on toast: her favourite being grated cheese and tomato, and Welsh rarebit.

While baby Stephen was being fed in his high chair by Ivy, Janet slipped out of her seat, leaving most of her tea, and went to her grandparents room at the front of the house, to tell them the day's events.

"Janet, what is all the excitement about,” they enquired of the little girl, who was gibbering on and on.

Alice and Harry had just finished clearing away their tea things and were thrilled at her news. Harry, who had not long come in from work, was especially pleased at his granddaughter's progress. He was still working at seventy years old and planned not to retire yet.

Then, for Janet, it was early to bed to be ready for school on Friday morning. Hopefully, she would not forget her Brownie meeting the next evening