Number 67 Station Road Addlestone

       The  house was very old, she and Grand dad, had lived there for years, it stood next to a little stream and we had to cross a rickety old bridge into her back garden. 

It was so nice to see My Gran—I can’t remember ever seeing her before.

        She didn’t look very pleased to see us though, and for a moment I thought she wasn’t going to let us in, she just stood in the doorway looking surprised. Perhaps she didn’t know we had been bombed out, but then, how could she? It had only happened a few hours ago, and no one had a telephone.

       Once indoors it was very different, everyone was crying—and hugging! Something our family never did—Chertsey people were not known for that sort of thing!

      Granddad got a big surprise when he came back from the shop’s.

       This was the first time I had ever been to Addlestone, I can’t remember meeting him or any of my aunt’s and uncle’s before. A close family we were not!

       The next door neighbour came around to hear our story—he had a wooden leg, a real one, like a Pirate would have. I couldn’t help looking at it, so shiny, he must have polished it every day.

      Mum was still very tearful, and Gran was trying to find a way to cheer her up, and what she said was just the job, she knew that Mum liked to have a bet every-day, and said.

                ‘If you want to put a bet on, Ethel, Mr Seward is our bookies runner’.

       For the first time since the bomb, Mum started laughing, Granny looked at her as if she was having a fit, and gave her another hug.

      Mr Seward started laughing too, and patted his wooden leg, saying.

‘They all think it’s funny down the Bookies as well, me a runner with a peg-leg’.

     I liked Mr Seward, he would come round every day, and tell us about his time in the last war and how he lost his leg in France. 

       Although I can’t remember very much else about living there, one thing that stands out was that the front of the house was next to a fish and chip shop—no more having to go all the way up to Mrs Hughes every Saturday morning! But they were nowhere near as nice as Mrs Hughes.

     I was the only one who was shaken up, I was still a little deaf, but when my hearing came back a few days later I could hear a pin drop, everything was so much louder than before. The house was old and everything creaked; the floor boards, the doors, and even the window frames. 

     My sense of smell was also much keener, there was a funny smell, a bit like fresh bread. 

     I realise now that my senses had been supercharged—but the smell of fresh bread was from the Co-op bakery, just a few yards away in Victory Road, after a while I didn’t even notice it.

     Another thing I do remember, was that there were lots of mice in the garden, probably from the bakery again. They lived under a large shed at the bottom of the garden, the shed was full of sports gear including a punch bag hanging from the ceiling.

      My Grandfather was a school sports trainer for ‘The Gordon boys Home’ in Chobham. He made us do exercises every day, I think he was disappointed that we weren’t very fit or sporty. Two of my uncles were footballers, and played for Walton and Hersham, a big football club, my uncle Ron was an athlete.  We Stayed with our gran for a few weeks until our 

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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