Voices from the Past: The Girl

By Elizabeth Uywin

The Girl is the second instalment of Elizabeth Uywin's Voices from the Past trilogy.
It wasn't just the destruction caused by World War Two which left the city of London in chaos. Poverty and family disharmony were commonplace even before the Second World War, and children in particular became victims of circumstances beyond their control.
This is the tale of one such child, a child born to a docker's family in Walworth Road, called Mary, who was consoled and comforted by the invincible love of her brother, Roy, a brother who followed her into Reedham Orphanage where they both endured isolation and despair.
As she grew into a young woman, with desires and dreams of her own, her powers of endurance were tested to the utmost limit, as relationships were thrown into chaos due to war and betrayal.
Voices from the Past: The Girl is no ordinary book; it is a book for those who wish to have a glimpse into East London life through three decades. It is a story written about a family who actually lived and died due to human conflict and poverty. Yet most of all, it is a story about one woman, a woman who wages her own war, against tremendous odds… for survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781528956727

Elizabeth Uywin

Elizabeth Uywin was born in Braintree to a farming family in 1951. Most of her childhood memories are of helping her father on the farm, until her family moved to London to be near her grandmother. She worked as a secretary to the chief news editor of the Press Association and in the court service for many years. This is her last book of Voices from the Past trilogy. Elizabeth Uywin is widowed and lives in Godstone, England.

Book preview

1939

About the Author

Elizabeth Uywin was born in Braintree to a farming family in 1951. Most of her childhood memories are of helping her father on the farm, until her family moved to London to be near her grandmother.

She worked as a secretary to the chief news editor of the Press Association and in the court service for many years. This is her second book of three which follows the life of one particular child called Mary, which has been researched over a period of thirty years. Elizabeth Uywin is widowed and lives in Chiswick.

Dedication

To my late husband, Keith, whose coffee and sound advice I will always miss.

Copyright Information ©

Elizabeth Uywin (2020)

The right of Elizabeth Uywin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528900058 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528956727 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2020)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgements

The late Mr R Smith,

Chief News Editor of the Press Association.

The late Mr K G Hurst MCIM,

Head of Publishing Department at the Radio Times, and International Financial Consultant to the BBC.

Roy Cole and the late Mary Cole, Diane Bryson, Billy Bryson, Denise Kavanagh and Rachael Jarvis.

Whose encouragement and support have made this book possible.

Preface

The Girl is the second book of the trilogy ‘Voices from the Past’. The first book, The Baby, has been published by Austin Macauley.

It wasn’t just the destruction caused by World War Two which left the city of London in chaos. Poverty and family disharmony were commonplace even before the Second World War, and children in particular became victims of circumstances beyond their control.

This is the tale of one such child, a child born to a Docker’s family in Walworth road, called Mary, who was consoled and comforted by the invincible love of her brother, Roy, a brother who followed her into Reedham Orphanage, where they both endured isolation and despair.

As she grew into a young woman with desires and dreams of her own, her powers of endurance were tested to the utmost limit, as relationships were thrown into chaos due to war and betrayal.

Voices from the Past is no ordinary book; it is a book for those who wish to have a glimpse into East London life through three decades. It is a story written about a family who actually lived and died due to human conflict and poverty. Yet most of all, it is a story about one woman, a woman who wages her own war against tremendous odds…for survival.

Author’s Note

In telling the story about the lives of the Cole family, and in particular their youngest child—Mary, I have endeavoured to keep as far as possible to the known facts. Most of the characters actually lived, and the events in this book are factual or based on happenings that had been related to me, by members of the family Cole themselves.

I make no apology for the fact that, for dramatic purposes, I have woven into my story fictional happenings and conversations. Yet, the fact remains that on Percy’s marriage to Jackie, his wealthy father disinherited him, and that Jackie’s fight for survival, and that of her family, were fought in a world where women were second-class citizens, and food was bought with money earned through pure hard work and the charity of others. The threat of separation and the workhouse, with its institutional hard way of life, was always a reality, a reality from which you were fortunate to return.

Mary, too, fought her own battle with poverty and the prejudices of her time, a battle bourn with nothing else than pure determination and courage.

In writing this book I have cried, and I have laughed with the characters. They have taught me an enormous amount about the times in which they lived, and the way they had lived.

Now, I must pass their story onto you, so that you may have the privilege of travelling with them—as I have travelled with them—it will be an adventure, an adventure that you will never forget.

Book Two

Mary at the time she left Reedham Orphanage

Introduction

1937

The unaccustomed bustle of city life bewildered Mary, causing her to grip Roy’s hand tightly as they weaved their way in between the mingling crowds that thronged England’s capital. Finally, they found themselves standing outside an upmarket teashop in Jermyn Street.

Are you coming in or are you going to stand out there all day with your mouth open? Roy pushed the door open, causing its little brass bell to signal their arrival.

Slowly—very slowly—Mary entered the teashop, looking about herself in awe while following Roy up a few well-worn wooden steps. She felt amazed at the sight which greeted her.

For a few brief seconds, Roy hesitated at the top of the steps as he scanned the tables with their chatting occupants, looking for the slightest sign of their mother. Suddenly, his gaze rested on a slim woman who was sitting with her back towards them. She was dressed in a powder blue suit, with a small dainty blue hat that sat squarely across the top of her thick black hair.

Let’s go, Roy, Mary whispered. Mother wouldn’t come in here, it’s far too expensive. Come on, I want to leave.

Do you see that lady sitting over there with her back towards us?

No, I don’t see any lady—where?

The lady who keeps looking out of the window, can you see her? Look, over there!

Oh yes, I see her, who is she?

Roy smiled at Mary’s puzzled expression. She’s our mother. Look, she’s looking for us.

Really? I didn’t recognise her.

Come on, let’s give her a surprise.

Mary, while still holding Roy’s hand tightly, advanced towards their unsuspecting mother.

Hello, Mother.

Jackie jumped in surprise. Oh, you’ve finally arrived. Thank God, I was beginning to worry about you. Did you have any problems with the train? I was going to meet you, of course, but I’m so busy these days. I just couldn’t spare the time.

She scanned their slim forms with a mother’s concern.

You’re both looking far too thin, are you hungry?

Mary rubbed her stomach. I’m starving, I haven’t eaten all day.

Don’t take any notice of her, Mother, she’s always hungry.

Well, I guess we can do something about that, at least when we get home. I understand Cook has something special in mind.

Cook? We have a cook? Mary whispered while sitting next to Roy. I thought Mum did all the cooking.

Jackie looked around and seeing a young waitress, raised her hand for attention.

Yes, madam?

May we have a pot of tea for three, please, and a plate of assorted cakes?

Cakes? We’re having cakes? Mary whispered excitedly.

The waitress looked up from her notepad. Any cakes in particular, madam?

Yes, I think some Eccles cakes and, oh yes, some iced buns.

Very well, madam. The maid gave a slight curtsey before walking briskly away.

Mother, you’ll make her ill, Roy whispered his concern. She’s not used to rich food.

You’ll be all right, won’t you, Mary? Jackie glanced towards her youngest child, whose large blue eyes revealed a childish excitement. Besides, a great deal of them are for me.

The small round table became the centre of conversation as Jackie informed her children, not realising that Roy already knew—yet chose to keep silent—about the Pelican Hotel and the new status which it afforded them.

Is Nanny Elizabeth living with us? Mary asked, just as the waitress returned,

Will that be all, madam?

Yes, thank you.

The waitress gave another slight curtsey before departing.

No, Nanny won’t be living with us, Jackie continued.

Nanny lives with Auntie Elsie in Langley; she has a small flower garden so she’s really happy.

I can’t wait to see her, it’s been ages!

The conversation continued in much the same vein. It was a happy scene, filled with children’s laughter. Yet, it was also a scene that held little or no resemblance to the life which now awaited them—a life which Roy silently feared.

Mary, Elizabeth and Roy in Elizabeth’s garden, Langley. The year they left Reedham Orphanage, 1937.

Josie, Roy and Mary in Elizabeth’s garden

1937

Chapter One

The Pelican Hotel

The Pelican Hotel was an old Edwardian two-storey building, which largely dominated the corner of Brandon Street. Its white net curtains completely lined the interior of the large bay windows, while the black railing that ran around its full length, dominating its frontage.

Victor Randall, a middle-aged man with greying hair, stood like a Roman centurion in his commissionaire’s uniform, gently rocking backwards and forwards upon his heels, guarding his domain. Jackie had first seen him shuffling along on a bitterly cold windy day, outside the workhouse, lining up for the inevitable stale loaf of bread and a jug of milk. Something about him had caught her eye; she didn’t know what it was, as he was dressed just as shabbily as anyone else, yet he seemed to stand out from all the others. Honesty, she thought, yes, that was right, he had an honest face. Therefore, she instantly offered him the commissionaire’s position, which he accepted, as she knew he would. From that day on, he had steadfastly guarded the entrance to the Pelican Hotel.

A black Austin motorcar slowly drew up before him, disturbing his thoughts. He quickly opened its back door.

Good morning, madam. He touched the brim of his top hat. How are you today?

Very well, thank you, Randall.

Alice Brunell extracted herself, with some difficulty, from the stuffy confines of the car’s interior, looking up at the hotel’s façade.

It’s so nice to be back here again, Randall. It’s like a second home, isn’t it?

Yes, madam, it certainly is.

Is my room ready, Randall?

Yes, madam, everything is just how you like it.

Good.

Victor beamed his usual broad smile as Alice Brunell pressed half a crown into his large palm.

Will you make sure that my case is brought up for me please, Randall?

Certainly, madam, just leave everything to me.

"Thank you, Randall, I know that I can rely on