Little Ann's Field of Buttercups

By Ann Jacques

Women - Biography
True Life Story from 1800-2009

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456601904

Book preview

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Prologue

When I look back at my life, there are joys, tears and failures. I see what I should and shouldn’t have done; especially believing that people I loved and trusted would guide me without desiring anything in return. I trusted many who simply let me down. After countless wrong decisions, I now know how easily mistakes are made. And these mistakes can take years to repair. I was simply never ready for my life ahead.

As a teenager, I never realised how essential it was to stay at school and do well. I wish I’d understood how significant school was in shaping my life. Education provides the chance of getting a decent job with good pay. I wish I’d understood that with a good job I could have met people along the way with similar goals—people who could think for themselves, who had ambitions and a desire to get ahead in life. I missed out on this—the life of an independent working woman. Instead, I settled down in a committed relationship with the responsibility of children and a home—in a crummy flat with no amenities, high rent and a rotten property owner who didn’t give a dam, as long as he got his rent money. Once I took this life pathway, I was stuck there. My hopes, dreams and goals started to disappear as quickly as the reality of my life showed its ugly face.

I wish I’d have known then what I know now, especially when it came to choosing my life partner. If I was able to go back in time and give my young self some advice, I would tell her:

Like and respect the person you choose to share your life with. Having the same goals and incentives helps you to motivate each other. Having the same interests is a bonus. Find someone who is always willing to discuss situations as they arise, and compromise so that joint decisions can be made. And remember to plan your moves. Look at all of your options, think logically and remain positive and you are less likely to go wrong. But also remember that there will always be unexpected mishaps in life. These will often happen through no fault of your own. This is simply life, and what a roller coaster it is! Everyone has to deal with certain traumas at one time or another and everyone has their own story to tell.

This is my story—the story of Kathleen Ann Hughes…

Chapter 1

It all started in the late 1800s, before I was born. My mother told me about these events. I cannot truly say how accurate they are as this part of my story happened before I was born…

My great-grandfather Charles Askew was born in 1868 at Ryton on Dunsmore, Warwickshire. Great-grandmother Fanny was born in 1879 in the small village of Atherstone. They met each other on a family social occasion and eventually married. In 1891, their first daughter Millicent was born followed by two brothers, Arthur and Charles, and sisters, Ellen and Gladys. Charles and Fanny had a small painting and decorating business, which enabled the family to live in a modest house in a middle-class area of Coventry.

Millicent grew into a lovely young lady with thick black hair and brown eyes, was introduced to a handsome young man, blonde with blue eyes. His name was Percival Warner. They had previously seen each other at dances, glancing at each other from afar, and saw each other frequently during summer when both families attended Sunday afternoon boating regattas. There was always a good turnout of spectators at these events, enjoying refreshments of tea and cream cakes served on the patio of the little café, watching the yachts on the river and the young men in their rowing boats impressing the young ladies who accompanied them, showing off their skills. Most young middle-class couples met at these social gatherings. Percival and Millicent became besotted with each other and thankfully, Charles gave them permission to ‘step out’, as they called it.

After a two year romance, they married in the spring of 1909. Percival, who was to become my grandad, was born in Coventry in 1887. He also came from a decent family background, with his father also having his own painting and decorating business. Percival worked with his father learning the skills of the decorating trade but soon tired of it and turned to selling, which he loved.

Grandad Warner became a piano sales representative. He enjoyed the job though he did not enjoy working for someone else as he only earned commission for the pianos he sold. It seemed to Grandad that his boss was the only one profiting for all his hard work so he began to think about working for himself. At that particular time, it seemed that everyone was buying a piano. With Millicent expecting a baby, the time was right to build up his clientele and move into the realm of self-employment.

In 1910, exactly one year since starting along the road of private enterprise, Grandad Warner had his own thriving business. After opening his first factory in Yorkshire, he never looked back. Money was in abundance so they were able to have a custom-designed house built in the elite area of Leicester. It cost four thousand pounds (a lot of money in those days).

The house was detached, standing in its own grounds. A wide hall led from an impressive entrance off into a large kitchen, scullery, dining room and lounge room. A grand staircase led upstairs to four spacious bedrooms and two bathrooms. Downstairs, the dining room featured a huge table with matching hide studded dining chairs. The lounge room was massive, with picturesque Georgian glassed patio doors that led to an entertainment room, similar to a dancing studio, with mirrors covering the walls. The patio door leading from this room opened onto a paved area, from which one could look out onto the beautifully landscaped grounds complete with an idyllically designed patio terrace. Steps led down onto the lawn, which was adorned, with shrubs, hedges and an abundance of trees, providing beautiful blossoms and a delightful aroma in the spring. A small pond served as a stage as lilies danced about as water cascaded from a small fountain. An elegant willow tree, its branches hanging and swaying in the summer breeze, added the perfect finishing touch.

A landscape gardener had been engaged to create this relaxed atmosphere and absolute privacy for the patio and home. This provided the perfect spot to entertain friends and business acquaintances during the summer months. My grandparents held regular Saturday evening dinners and dancing for their friends. As they were proficient musicians, they became the musical entertainment. Even the children joined in.

Grandad Warner became very successful, acquiring more shops and factories all over the Midlands, and one in London. My grandparents’ firstborn was my Auntie Irene. They employed a housekeeper, a cook and a nanny to help with their daughter. As Irene got a little older, she accompanied her daddy on business trips to the factories and shops, enjoying herself and taking in a little knowledge of how things were run. In 1915, another daughter, Joan, was born. Both girls looked like their mother with dark hair and brown eyes. Joan would grow up to pass these features on to her own little girl—me.

Life at this time was a constant stream of successes for the Warners. Profits were high and the parties and entertaining continued. My grandparents spoiled their little girls with love and attention. Eventually, a third daughter joined the Warner household— beautiful and angelic, but unlike her sisters. Betty looked just like her father with blonde hair and big blue eyes. Family and friends all felt the need to protect her. She did not have the strong and independent personality of her sisters. Each of the Warner girls had a private education and took up a hobby of their choice. Joan loved ballet so she was enrolled in a class.

I remember the excitement in my mother’s eyes when she told me those vivid stories of her childhood. I imagined her practising her dancing in the ballroom in front of the mirrored glass on the walls. The scene was so vivid I almost believed I was there with her.

Irene wanted to learn to play the piano and she eventually became very accomplished. Charlie Kunz, a great pianist of the day was her influence and inspiration, and of course she was encouraged by her parents who were also accomplished musicians Betty was a little too young for a hobby yet.

As the girls grew older, thoughts of their future careers became my grandparents’ focus. Irene tended to my grandfather’s business as she had been learning the business from an early age. Grandad taught her to drive the Rolls Bentley. She was keen and quick to learn. Eventually she took over the sales side of the business, which allowed her the privilege of driving all over the country. This was a role she enjoyed immensely, mainly because it provided opportunities for her to meet eligible young men.

My grandmother decided that Joan should develop her natural flair for mathematics and guided her towards bookkeeping and accounts. Mathematics was always her favourite subject at school even from an early age. Betty went to secretarial training college for two years where she became proficient in shorthand and touchtyping. All three sisters grew up in a fortunate family environment with plenty of opportunities. Life was good for the Warners, until war was declared…

Chapter 2

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.

Chapter 3

I was happy living at Grandma and Grandad’s. Auntie Betty also lived with us and often played games with me. I felt very close to her and loved her dearly. When she had free time from work and the weather was nice, she would take me to the park. Eventually, she met a young man from Wolverhampton who worked for British Thomas Houston. I still remember how thrilled she was when they met at a dance in the city. Sid became a regular visitor to our house as he began courting Betty. He was very charming and interesting.

The years that went by were full of many happy memories. Grandma would proudly bake all her own cakes on every occasion including my birthdays. On one particular occasion I remember Grandma lifted the cake out of its tin with such pride to be displayed in front of everyone. Out came her masterpiece, covered in holes round the edge of the cake, minus the little silver balls, glazed cherries and a manner of other edible decorations, all missing, obviously eaten!

‘By whom I wonder? Must be that invisible man again!’ Grandma exclaimed, looking rather embarrassed in front of my party guests and their mothers.

Whether I was punished or not I have no idea. However, after the initial shock I am sure it was the laugh of the day.

The news on the wireless was one of the highlights at dinner time. We also listened to Worker’s Playtime and a comedy show called ITMA (It’s That Man Again). The grown-ups laughed their heads off at the jokes. Of course, I didn’t understand them but I was amused listening to the laughter. This was until the one o’clock news began when there had to be no chatting. Grandma would shush us all. Sometimes we took no notice and continued chatting, but on one particular day we all fell extremely silent. What we heard was not good news. The Prime