Open Writing

When my sister Susie was born in 1931, I was thirteen years of age. I already had two brothers and a sister, so it fell to me to take charge of the family whilst my mother was ‘confined’ at Haslam’s Maternity Home on Chorley New Road.

There were no maternity departments in hospitals in those days; many mothers still had their babies at home attended by the local midwife. But with four children in the house, the maternity home was considered to be more convenient. An aunt who lived nearby promised to keep an eye on us whilst my father was at work.

By coincidence this event in our family coincided with a school closure on account of an epidemic that was rife in the town. So we were all at home, and it fell to me to keep my younger brothers and sister occupied and out of mischief. A series of letters which my mother kept, one of which I am including in this family saga, describes how I rose to the task.

“Dear Mother,

I have ever so much to tell you this time, and I hope that as you read it you will be feeling quite well. Also I hope that baby is keeping well.

First of all I think you would be interested to know that yesterday everything went off well. I think Dad told you about my coffee cake but after I had scraped off some of the burn (which was very little) I put in some coffee cream, and it was quite good. Well you can guess it is all eaten now. And, oh the coffee cream I made from my own recipe. I don’t know whether it has been made before or not but it was quite all right.

Perhaps now I ought to tell you that our Bobby, David and Joyce have been quite good today. Only they will persist in slight quarrels, but of course they can’t get out of everything all at once. Our David has scrubbed the kitchen table, cleaned the taps (his daily job), dusted the stairs, shaken the mats, brought in coal and done errands as well as other jobs. So I think he has done well.

Our Bobby has cleaned the kitchen shelves, windows and the shoe cupboard a little. Also he has done many other little jobs, but I cannot write them here, but I will tell you when you come home. Now they are going to help with the washing.

We have not yet thought out what name we are going to give baby. You see we have so many. I want to call it Patricia or perhaps, Sheila, but how I would like the former, please, Mother. Do think whether or not we could have that name.

And now I have such a list of questions I hardly know how to write them. But here they are:

1. When are you coming home with baby?
2. Shall I be allowed to nurse her?
3. What shall we do for a pram?
4. Will you be able to mend stockings?
5. Will you be glad to come home?
6. How do you make a birthday cake?
7. “ “ “ “ icing?
8. What do you think you will need when you come home?
………………………………...................................................................
(Those are the other questions I can’t ask just now.)

Also, dear, could you please tell me which room you would like when you return so that I can prepare it ready. Do not think I am getting ready too soon because a week seems a short time now.

When Daddy comes for you to bring you home, please may I come too? I should just love it, and I’m sure Bobby and David won’t mind, and they will get a drink ready for you. Please consider this Mother dear, and then tell me.

Everyone is looking forward to seeing you and baby, grandmas, aunties, friends and all other relations. They are all keeping quite well and happy I think, but they are sorry they cannot all write, but hope to see you when we have you back.

I rather like being the ‘mother’ as it were, but I am sure I could never take your place. And I shall gladly give it up to you when you return, though I shall still help with the work.

I try to chastise Joyce when she does wrong by gentle words, for I fear that if she is upset she will fret for you, but I think she takes it better by far than by smacking her. So far she has not worried at all, for I keep her talking about her baby and you.

The Woman’s Pictorial has come today, and if you like I will send it. I am saving some books for you when you return, so if you like I will save it with them.

And now I must wish you goodbye with sincere wishes and best love,

from your daughter

Betty

for you xxxxxx
for baby xxxxxx (give them baby real)

P.S. I have not saved that 10/- yet.”

My mother was away from home for 12 days. During this time we spring-cleaned the house from top to bottom, wrote letters every day for our father to deliver at visiting times and rehearsed a play, the very first of many to be written by brother Bob (or Bobby as we called him then) to be performed on the day of our mother’s return with our new sister.

The play, loosely based on the story of Little Bo-Peep had David, our younger brother, playing the part of Prince Charming, who arrived on horseback (Bob was the horse) to help Bo-Peep find her
sheep. I was the producer, and I rehearsed Joyce, aged four and David, aged six-and-a-half, until they were word perfect.

Nevertheless, on the vital day David dismounted from his steed, bowed low before the weeping Bo-Peep and exclaimed dramatically, “Why do you feep, wair maiden?”

Joyce looked up cheerfully and answered, “I have lost my sleep.”

Needless to say, Mother and our next door neighbour, Mrs. Baron, were almost bursting in their attempt to remain serious.

Joyce celebrated her fourth birthday whilst Mother was away and, not wishing to fall short in my role as substitute mother, I made and decorated a cake for her. I have sometimes thought that many of the traits and characteristics revealed during this episode in our lives were to materialise in a mature form in later life!

Eventually I was taken in a taxi by my father to collect Mother on the day of her return, leaving Mrs. Baron to look after Bob, David and Joyce. It was an exciting moment when Mother appeared at the door of Haslam’s accompanied by Matron carrying the baby. I held her in my arms all the way home as a reward for my twelve days’ vigil.

Two years later we had another baby sister, but by this time I was out at work. Mother had this baby at home and a carer came in each day to help. I was, however, responsible for bathing and putting the baby to bed every night. This time I was allowed to choose the new baby’s name. But by this time my favourite name for a girl was Dorothy -- so Dorothy it was. We never did have a Patricia.

Bolton U3A