Mr. and Mrs. Wade.               Mr. and Mrs. Wade.


With mum losing our new baby, David far away in a home for children and Fred, in and out of hospital, things were still far from happy.

With the money from Iris and Mrs. O’Keefe, we were just able to buy our full ration.       Other families, although with more money, could not use it to buy extra food—unless they used the black market.

Saturday afternoon. Don, although not really old enough, was out on his delivery job, he earned twelve shillings a week—five pounds a week was a normal wage for a man.

Mum was resting in the armchair, Mrs. Salmon had said that I should always be near mum, in case she needed some-thing. I was building a model of a Catalina flying boat—this was the most beautiful airplane the American’s ever made—in my opinion.

My bench was a little corner of the Morrison Shelter, wood dust and shavings everywhere. It didn’t seem to matter though.

Mum sat up and said.

“Alan, there’s some-one at the front door, just as I was getting to sleep as well.”


She had been asleep all afternoon.


I followed her to the door, only the Doctor would use it. Not some more bad news I thought. Or may-be it was Fred being brought back for a few days again—he has to sleep alone in his own room whenever he comes home.


Standing at the door, with a smile that seemed to go from ear to ear. Was Mr. Wade, He was holding up a sandbag—nowadays I would have thought. ‘WTF’.

Behind him was Mrs. Wade and their two boys, Teddy and Harold.

We all just stood there looking at one and other, for what seemed ages.

Mum was thinking she was having a bad dream. ‘Are the Wades moving in with us? God, Perish the thought!’

Mrs. Wade took the sand-bag from her husband and handed it mum.” Here you are ‘Effie’ a nice chicken for you and a few eggs, Don’t tell anyone or we will all be in trouble.


Once again, the wonderful Wade family, were doing what they were good at.

Just being good.

Every-one trooped in to the kitchen, mum was trying to tidy up as she went. Even at my age I thought that was very funny, having lived the Wade’s house for a fort-night.

I didn’t have to wait to be told, to put the kettle on, it had become second nature.


This Saturday afternoon would be a turning point, mum could not stop smiling, for her, it was the best medicine ever, prescribed by caring, loving people.


I think of myself as being very lucky to have known them.


























Author: madeinchertsey

Born in 1932, this is a collection of stories of my childhood growing up in Chertsey, and some stories of my later life.

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