Memories of Childhood
by John Appleby

~ 6 ~

There were the village chapels and churches, Wesleyan, Presbyterian, Primitive methodist, Catholic.St. Mary's, the 8th century St. Bartholemews (any boy caught birdnesting in the churchyard will be locked in the belltower overnight), so we were told. There were 5 or 6 pubs, the gas works not far from the station. There was at least one doctor (Percy Evers), a solicitor (Mr. Heliwell), a police station in a house adjacent to the Wesleyan chapel.

Halfway down the main street was the railway station, a terminus, where a black locomotive could be seen snorting and confronting a great pair of steel buffers behind a high picket fence. On the little platform would be a porter"s barrow, and very often wicker baskets full of cooing pigeons destined for points distant, to be raced back to their owners, for prizes. Two or three massive slot machine beckoned . By inserting a coin, you could see how heavy you were, or slide forth a scrumptious silver-wrapped bar of Nestles or Cadburys best. As small boys, our first journeys from home with our mother, took us, my brother in the pushchair and I reluctant to walk, down the street to my aunty's shop. If our luck was in, Aunty would have a newly-baked treat for us. Then perhaps there would be a bill to pay at the Co-op. I can still smell the incomparable aromas of that shop, the great wooden counter, the zing of the bacon slicer, the golden barrel-shaped cheeses, the scales, the blue paper sugar bags, the white aprons the celluloid collars, and the magic of the the flight of the wee brass money cup as it sped like a demon along it's wire up to the glass office. Sometimes we would call at Mr. Crackett's news agent to buy a comic, Tiger Tim, Larks or Rainbow.

© 2003 John Appleby, New Zealand

All enquiries for editorial and content should be directed to the webmaster, Jason Thompson on enquiry@newbigginbythesea.co.uk.