Reminiscences

By E L Tracy

What do a cinema usherette, a bus conductress, a gardener and a Gentleman's gentleman have in common? Well, for a start, they've all ended up in the Wavertree Residential Home to live out their remaining years.
But don't think that they are frail, elderly people requiring constant care. No. These four are sprightly and wicked and gang up on an unsuspecting reporter to regale her with stories of their pasts. Stories that make her blush and explode once and for all the myth that sex was invented by the young.
If youngsters today knew what their parents and grandparents got up to they would never believe it. Dip into Reminiscences and find out for yourself just how sexy the austerity years of the fifties really were.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E L Tracy
• Release date: Jun 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301224692

E L Tracy

E L Tracy lives in the UK on the south coast. She has always made up stories first for herself, then for magasine readers and finally for radio listeners.The Price of Passion and its sequel The Politics of Passion, follow the life of Jenny from her eviction at eighteen from the Childrens' home to her later life as she settles down with the man she loves. The story of Jenny is highly charged with erotic content as are many lives today. E L Tracy sees no reason why, when an orgasm occurs we shouldn't be told how it came about and what contributed to it. As she says,“If I were to write a murder mystery, the reader would want more than just X was murdered and Inspector Y caught the murderer. The reader would want to know the why and how for the murder and the method of detection to apprehend the killer. Likewise, it’s not enough to know that an orgasm occurred. We can profit from knowing what created it and how it was done.”E L Tracy hopes that you enjoyed her books and that you will look out for more as they become available..

Book preview

Introduction

The inspiration for this book came about purely by chance. There was no plotting or story-boarding that often precedes the creation of other works. No. This book came about for two reasons. Firstly, because I was lucky enough to give the impression to some people that I was a girl they could talk to and secondly, because four people that should have known better decided to play a game with me. It started with an order from my boss.

Just get yourself over to the Wavertree and see what you can dig up. We’ll be running a feature next month and we need some background.

I knew when he was in one of these moods you didn’t argue. Not if you wanted to keep your job, anyway.

Right-o Chief, I replied, consider it done.

Between you and me, I was glad of the opportunity to get out of the office for a while, even if it was to one of our local residential homes. Not any home, mind you, but the Wavertree, an imposing building that seemed to dominate the skyline. It was built opposite the entrance to Victoria Park, one of the few green and pleasant spaces still left in our metropolis.

I knew there wouldn’t be a problem with the staff. Matrons of such homes were always ready to tell a reporter how happy their residents were. But I wanted to try something different. I wanted to know what the residents thought. That may be a bit tricky I thought to myself, I would first have to convince the Matron that my intentions were good and that we would only report favourably.

I approached the large, green front door with my best smile and a head full of complimentary remarks. I was determined to overcome any natural reticence on the part of the Matron. It must have worked because, within half an hour I had the names of four residents who, she was sure, would be only too glad to talk to me.

The first person to tell me her story was a lady of eighty-one who had been a cinema usherette during the forties and fifties. This was a job that has been done in Britain for almost a hundred years and for the first seven decades had been unchanged. Cinemas, at that time, were large buildings housing only one auditorium with one large screen. They invariably showed a main feature film, advertising under the auspices of Pearl & Dean, a Pathé news reel and a second, or supporting film together with a trailer for a future show. Having bought your ticket you could sit there for as long as you like or just until you reached the part at which you came in. Nothing, and I mean nothing, escaped the gloom adjusted eyes of the usherette.

The next person I spoke to was a seventy eight year old lady who had worked as a bus conductress. Women started in the job when most of the men were away fighting a war and later, during the fifties, it was a job that more and more women were getting into. She would spend her shifts running up and down stairs collecting fares and engaging in friendly banter with the passengers. The exercise kept her figure trim and, for reasons of her own, she always looked forward to the late shifts.

Next was a sprightly man, in his eighties, with a twinkle in his eye that was irresistible. He had worked as a gardener and had been in much demand around the suburbs of the middle classes. Nowadays, of course, with all the labour saving devices available, most people tended their own