Читать книгу Little Ann's Field of Buttercups - Ann Jacques - Страница 7

Britain called upon its menfolk to serve their country during World War One, from 1914 to 1918. Grandad was called to serve in the Royal Flying Corps, which later became the RAF. He served only two years as he developed asthma during his service and was discharged on medical grounds. For the duration of his war service he had engaged a manager to run his business. With the assistance of Irene, the business thrived. He was delighted to return in 1916 to regain control of the business.

In 1929, the devastating Stock Market Crash on Wall Street occurred. Businesses went bankrupt, fortunes were lost and thousands of people lost their jobs overnight. My grandfather managed to keep control for a while but things were never going to be as easy as before. It was harder to acquire customers as people continued to get into more financial difficulty. It was a few years before the total effects of the Wall Street Crash were finally felt. Unfortunately for my grandfather, his business and others alike were affected by the financial problems spilling over from America. Buying trends also changed. People were not only unable to afford to purchase pianos; they were not even as interested anymore. The gramophone was the latest invention and fashion. This of course did not help Grandad’s finances. In the following months, his debtors could not pay, leaving him no longer able to pay his debts either. Consequently, within three months he lost all his factories and shops. He had tried to sell them, but everyone else was in the same situation. All assets were worthless and, after losing thirty-three thousand pounds over three months, Grandad became bankrupt. It was devastating to Grandad and many others. Life was never quite the same again. Wealth and prosperity were sadly lost. The designer house in Stonygate was lost and gone forever. My grandparents rented a large terraced house having a small back yard at Mere Road in a reasonable area, not quite up to the standard they were used to. However, it was all they could afford. After such traumatic events, at least they still had each other.

Before long, Grandad started working for himself painting and decorating, using the skills his father had taught him. Despite not enjoying the work as much as selling, he engaged men to work for him and became quite busy. But it was now a different world and he never reached the same level of success he had before. I guess the Wall Street Crash may have made the older generation, including Grandad, more dubious of significant financial gain in case a similar event was to reoccur. Young ambitious men with little fear of the future started making their mark in the financial world, taking the places of their older predecessors.

As time went on Irene married an RAF chap named John. He left the forces after serving his time and started a job in the civil service. The couple rented a house in Mapperly Nottingham. Irene had a part-time job driving, and later had her first and only child, a boy named Jeremy.

The middle daughter Joan also married around the same time as Irene. Her husband Robert, or Bob as he was known, was a good-looking man with the gift of the gab. Joan’s family disapproved of him as he had a bad reputation amongst everyone who knew him. His problem was his liking for drink, the family said. And there was a huge stigma attached to being a ‘drinker’. Nevertheless, Joan was madly in love with him and would not hear a word said against him. Her father could possibly see through his mask—they both were sales representatives with a talent for persuasion. Most significantly, Bob was an abusive drunk. Despite the talks, Joan’s parents gave up in their attempts to persuade my mother away from this man and she married him. To assist his daughter, Grandad Warner helped to set them up with their own pet shop.

Bob’s family was originally from Wales. His father David had around nine brothers and sisters, most of whom left the area moving to England and America for work. David, a Merchant Navy man, was rarely home. This could account for Bob’s appalling behaviour and drinking bouts. His father simply did not have any firm control over him, as he was never there. After many rows about different issues, Joan announced her pregnancy to her husband. Bob blew his top and gave her a good hiding—an experience she had become familiar with. Then he broke into the electricity meter, took the money and left. He returned a few days later and smashed up the family home in one of his drunken stupors. This pattern of behaviour was repeated over the next few months. Joan had no money as it all went on Bob’s drinking habit. She had no option but to ask her father for help, knowing she would get one big ‘I told you so’. Bob was told in ruthless terms to leave, which he did for the majority of the time. Later the family heard he had followed his father’s footsteps and joined the Merchant Navy, travelling the world, only visiting the home occasionally when back in port. This suited everyone including my mother Joan. In those times, divorce was almost unheard of. It was also very expensive and harder to obtain.

On July 25 1935, barely reaching the five pound mark on the scales, I arrived into the world at Bond Street Nursing Home Leicester— an amazing feat really after the traumatic time Mum had with my drunken father. He had become an alcoholic, unaware of and not caring for how his addiction was affecting his family.

I was still a baby when my dad was dismissed from the Merchant Navy. He was fired for stealing and selling navy property. Anything he could get his hands on, he sold. This habit fed his drinking addiction. He did attempt treatment for his alcohol abuse. He tried different clinics but nevertheless, his habit continued to spiral out of control. When he did try to stay dry, the withdrawal symptoms were unbearable. He suffered from delirium tremens (DTs) and hallucinations. Consequently, my father’s attempts to give up alcohol were useless and his violent outbursts continued.

Some years later I was snooping around in my mother’s dressing table drawer when I found a statement she’d written as part of her divorce application. To the best of my recollection it stated:

My baby was crying when Bob tried to shut her up by choking her with his bare hands. I came in just in time to stop a real tragedy. Bob then left the room where he then smashed our home, robbed the electric metre by forcing the lock open, taking the money inside it and left for good. Afterwards, my baby was very ill due to the trauma of being choked. She ended up in hospital with her weight going down to just one pound, wrapped in cotton wool and fed through a fountain pen tube. The chaplain was called in but miraculously she survived the ordeal.

This put an end to my parents’ disastrous marriage. Grandad fetched all our belongings and took us home to live with him and Grandma. I was two at the time. Whilst living with Grandma and Grandad life settled down. My mother and my grandparents were thankful never to have seen him again but it took a further ten years for Mum to obtain a legal divorce.