Cobbled Streets and Penny Sweets--Happy Times and Hardship in Post-War Britain by Yvonne Young

Author:Yvonne Young [Yvonne Young]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781789460131
Publisher: John Blake Publishing
Published: 2019-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

There were around fifteen of us standing on the corner outside Reggie’s one day when we saw Mrs Dean from along the road rush past us with her pram and young baby, her husband in hot pursuit. He was a squaddie who was always absconding from his barracks. He was shouting at her to come back and hurling abuse. As they passed us, we were saying what a bully he was. He got a couple of more yards, then turned on his heel, elbows out and fists at the ready. We all scarpered to the four winds and didn’t come out again until after teatime. When we did, we saw a covered wagon blasting down his street. As half a dozen privates jumped out and manhandled him into the back of the vehicle, a cheer went up.

Nearly everyone from the surrounding streets used Reggie’s shop. They had three cats, who all loved to sit on the newspapers, so when you wanted to buy one you had to shift a cat along. We bought a quarter of this and a quarter of that, four Fruit Salad chews or four Black Jacks, a penny Dainty bar or two. I tried Caramac chocolate when it was first introduced, but didn’t like that. A lovely bar called Bliss had whole hazelnuts lined up along a ridge of milk chocolate, but unfortunately, it didn’t last long and was withdrawn from sale. There were lucky bags, Craven Mints and Merry Maid mints. I loved the sherbet dips, which had a length of liquorice inside, or Flying Saucers, also filled sherbet but sealed within rice paper.

We had our newspapers delivered to the house and I sometimes took a few of them to the local chip shop in return for a free bag of chips. They were put onto greaseproof paper, then wrapped in a kind of roll within the newspaper. If the papers weren’t exchanged for chips, they would be cut up into squares and hung by string on a hook in the ‘netty’ (outdoor toilet). Nothing was wasted.

There were many shops along Buddle Road: a butcher’s, cobbler’s, Laws Stores, a wool shop and a little general dealer. A woman called Bella had a tiny little place which sold sweets, paraffin, mothballs and all kinds. Sometimes if you were in the shop, she went behind a curtain to have a pee in a bucket.

‘Mind, don’t you steal anything, I can still see you.’

The Post Office had excellent displays of toys in the window, which you could pay for weekly until Christmas. We rubbed our noses up against the window, playing a game called ‘I Bogs’. This meant that you shouted out which toys you wanted. The postmistress was none too pleased to have scruffy kids soiling her window with snot and handprints so we were chased. The red box stood outside and one day, as I approached, I noticed six children holding onto each other in a line behind it. They were attempting to avoid a kid who hung out of his bedroom window, trying to take pot shots at them with an air rifle.

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