Open Writing

Demobbed 29 January, 1958, I took up employment in the City Treasurer's Department Nottingham on 3 February, 1958. I realised it would be a financial strain for my parents if I had continued to pursue a career in chartered accountancy. As I had now had a taste of living on a higher income whilst serving in the RAF, I knew it would be difficult to return to Mellors Basden and Mellors.

I went to see Mr Scothorne to explain the reason for my decision to terminate my employment. I wanted to thank him for giving me a chance that I have never underestimated. A product of the secondary school system, not in possession of a single academic qualification, a working class background. Everything indicated that I would not even stand a chance of getting a reply to my letter.

During my two-and-a-half years on the payroll it had been a constant struggle to gain acceptance amongst so many public school and grammar school colleagues, almost all from either wealthy or comfortably off parentage. When I joined The City Treasurer's Department there were many colleagues holding or aspiring to a qualification equivalent to that of Chartered Accountant.

What was different was the almost total absence of anyone who had attended a public school or hailed from a prosperous background. I was placed in the Rate Collection Department. Its sole function was the collection of the local tax from all domestic properties and business premises within the city boundary. The sums collected were based on a notional value of the properties. There was never any clarity about how these values were determined, but basically they were founded upon an anticipated rent that could be earned irrespective of whether the premises were ever occupied by a tenant.

My job was to enter by hand all rate payments in a hand-bound ledger about six inches thick and weighing several kilos. All the addresses of properties in one area of the city were contained within it.

It has often been said that we can always remember precisely where we were upon learning of some momentous event. I had only been in the Department a few days when a senior colleague broke the news of the Munich Air Disaster. Amongst those killed and seriously injured were many Manchester United players.

During the less pressurised days of the 1950s the tradition of the company staff day outing was much in evidence. It was to be found mainly in the private sector but City Treasurer staff were also beneficiaries. I went on the outing to the Malvern Hills in Worcestershire.

A female colleague named Valerie Sawyer had her eye on me, although to this day I cannot think why. We had little in common. I was a cyclist; she was a tennis player. I suppose it was our mutual interest in ballroom dancing. I seem to recall that I never sat near her on the coach on the way down but found myself in her company strolling on the Malvern Hills. The remainder of the day I sat next to her.

Stopping off at a pub in Leicester we detached ourselves from our colleagues and set off, hand in hand, to stroll around the surrounding streets. Oblivious to time, we continued to walk until a sudden awakening as to how long we had been away saw us running back to the pub. Fortunately we managed to flag down the last bus as it began to pull out of the car park. As we sheepishly climbed aboard, its passengers gave us that quizzical look that all young couples experience.

The relationship flourished for several months. She even came up a few times to watch me racing in track events at the Harvey Hadden Stadium, but by the autumn of 1959 it began to fizzle out. I learned through the grapevine that she had been seeing the guy from whom she had broken her engagement.

A few days after returned from the outing Nottingham Forest won the FA Cup beating Luton 2-1. I had the privilege of entering the hallowed chamber in the Council House where the trophy had been put on display.

I was transferred out of rates to the Education Accounts Department. I would spend a few days each month in a secure location putting monthly salaries together in pay packets; this was long before the days of bank current accounts. This would be followed by transport in a taxi to schools in the city to deliver the packets.

It was only a few days after I had started the job that I celebrated my 21st birthday. In those days adulthood was not reached until three years later than is the case today. I had a party at the pub of my cousin Clifford, the Rose and Crown on Alfreton Road. Most of my guests were from the RAF plus Beryl Smith. We arrived at the pub by trolley bus from Bulwell. Marg and Les Clements, friends of my parents, created much of the party atmosphere.

I don't remember it being a particularly riotous party. Indeed, my cousin was hard pressed to get his licence extended until 11 pm. We had all left by midnight.

I took my friends into the city centre on the Sunday. I took a photograph of them as a group whilst visiting Nottingham Castle. I never encountered Terry Smith again. Johnny Williams took a job as an engineer with BBC Television in London.

I must have visited him at some point because I remember having a conducted tour of the studios. I went into the studio containing a portrait of the queen pasted on a board with the words 'The epilogue'. So this was where the final daily act of TV broadcasting was transmitted. This was, of course, before the days of a multi-channelled BBC service. There was not even BBC 2.

During the summer of 1958 I was invited up to Johnny Eaton's 21st at his parents’ house in Rotherham. This was a very enjoyable occasion, and I fixed myself up on a date with one of the guests for the Sunday evening.

We went to the cinema in Rotherham and I recall catching a train back to Nottingham in the early hours of Monday morning, arriving home just as it was getting light. I don't recall my physical or mental state being at their best during that Monday back in the City Treasurer's Department.