Rawny: My Gypsy Friend

By Anna Sloman-Gower

Joy is born into an era of post-war uncertainty, one of the first babies delivered by the newly created NHS. A house move aged ten is unsettling and she struggles to make sense of the world and establish her identity. The novel charts her path through the trauma of the eleven plus and separation from her friends and culture. She experiences bullying and alienation at her new school and is helped by close friends, a supportive family and most importantly the local gypsies who live on the wasteland near her home. Rawny and his family take Joy into their hearts and share their lives and rich culture with her. The close enduring bonds Joy forges at this vital time of life enable her to navigate the difficulties life presents and enable her to find her own moral compass.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398458642

Anna Sloman-Gower

Anna Sloman-Gower started writing whilst still at school and has had many articles and poems published. Her writing skills were channelled for years into creating new qualifications for teacher training in the adult sector. Anna’s creative work is inspired by the people and cultures she has encountered. Whilst working at a university in Morocco, the BBC World Service broadcast her short story Abdul’s Bananas about a young boy trying to win himself a bride through playing music. During lockdown, Anna started telling regular stories to her grandchildren which developed into a book about their adventures together. This inspired her to write about her own childhood memories and was the motivation for Rawny.

Book preview

Rawny

My Gypsy Friend

Anna Sloman-Gower

Austin Macauley Publishers

Rawny

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Chapter 1: A Fresh Start

Chapter 2: Meeting Daisy

Chapter 3: Riding High

Chapter 4: Kitted Out

Chapter 5: Sums

Chapter 6: A Trip Away

Chapter 7: Judgement Day

Chapter 8: The Horse Fair

Chapter 9: A Special Day

Chapter 10: A Surprise Visit

Chapter 11: Summer Fun

Chapter 12: Grandparents

Chapter 13: Tea at Nel’s

Chapter 14: Vardo

Chapter 15: A Fish Out of Water

Chapter 16: The Tilston Site

Chapter 17: Welcome to the World

Chapter 18: The Dilemma

Chapter 19: Comeuppance

Chapter 20: Jennifer

Chapter 21: All Change

Chapter 22: A Family Break

About the Author

Anna Sloman-Gower started writing whilst still at school and has had many articles and poems published. Her writing skills were channelled for years into creating new qualifications for teacher training in the adult sector. Anna’s creative work is inspired by the people and cultures she has encountered. Whilst working at a university in Morocco, the BBC World Service broadcast her short story Abdul’s Bananas about a young boy trying to win himself a bride through playing music. During lockdown, Anna started telling regular stories to her grandchildren which developed into a book about their adventures together. This inspired her to write about her own childhood memories and was the motivation for Rawny.

Dedication

To my beloved family and friends, and to Rawny and all people who struggle to live in a society intolerant of difference.

Copyright Information ©

Anna Sloman-Gower 2022

The right of Anna Sloman-Gower to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 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.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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

ISBN 9781398458635 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398458642 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Chapter 1

A Fresh Start

Spinney cot fields was a precarious haven of peace teetering on the edge of the grimy, bustling city. Sadly, it was not immune to progress. Smart new housing estates were emerging, insidiously creeping their way across the once wild acres. Trees were ripped out, shrubs, grasses and wildflowers torn up. The fragile wilderness was flattened and replaced by a suburb of sterile red brick houses and bungalows. The West family moved into one of the first new properties on the estate. For the parents, owning a new home had been the fulfilment of their lifelong dream.

For their daughter Joy, however, the move had been traumatic. She had loved their old house, it had been just that—old. It had character. She even loved its name, ‘Apple Lodge’. She found it exciting to have letters arrive with the house name written on the front. From now on, they would just be number 18, Stanbury Crescent; how boring was that! The old house was different and Joy liked being different. She had begged her mum Rose to give their hew house a name but she had met all Joy’s entreaties with a little laugh and told Joy she was worried that the neighbours would think them faintly ridiculous with ideas above their station if they gave their new bungalow a name.

When the family moved into Stanbury Crescent, the back garden was just bare clods of red clay patterned by the tyre tracks of diggers and a few, brave straggly weeds. Apple Lodge had an established rockery garden out the front that tumbled with untamed purple flowers that wove between weathered chunks of granite. At the back of the house a spacious ramshackle wooden conservatory spanned the kitchen and living room. It was boiling in summer and freezing in winter but Joy loved spending time in there and particularly loved the smells. They were a heady mix of old coir matting, decaying plants and mouldy rattan furniture. She enjoyed sitting in the sagging wicker chairs that the paint was peeling off and balancing her drink on the rickety table.

Every spring, she’d help her dad paint the window panes to combat the fierce rays of the sun; it was a job she loved as it heralded summer with its lighter evenings and warmer days. In the long back garden there were ancient, gnarled apple trees, mistletoe ridden, badly pruned and fruiting erratically but wonderful for climbing. They had kind elderly neighbours, the Bakers, who she could drop in on any time to be spoiled with home-cooked treats and regaled with the stories of war-time heroics that Joy so enjoyed listening to. Her friend Hazel lived next door the other side and her mum’s mum, her nan Alice, was just down the road. So many happy childhood memories centred around Apple Lodge; to leave it had been a terrible wrench. The new school had also been a real shock.

‘The new school is so near, you can walk there in five minutes and it will be wonderful for you to get away from the dead-end lot at your old school,’ her mum had told her cheerfully. But she liked the ‘dead end lot’ at her school, they were interesting and exciting and it had been hard to make friends moving mid-year into a class who had been together forging their tribal loyalties over years of spats and playground stand-offs.

Joy had made one special friend, Susan. They met in the playground on Joy’s first day. The children were calling Susan names and she was cowering sheepishly by the chain link fence. Joy hadn’t hesitated to step in and defend her from the spiteful taunts; she had learned to stand up for herself at her last school and she hated bullying. The jeering had carried on for a short while and included a few insults for Joy but the little mob had soon gotten bored of their game and dispersed to find a new victim.

Susan stood out from the other children. She was albino with a mass of fine, pure white hair and skin so pale it was translucent. Her pale blue eyes were pink-rimmed and her eyelashes and brows were so fair they could hardly be seen from a distance. They were an unlikely pair—Susan timid and white-haired, Joy strong and fearless with thick dark blonde hair—but the playground rescue caused the girls to bond immediately and soon, they were inseparable.

On Wednesdays, Joy went straight from school to Susan’s house for tea. This Wednesday she’d stayed too long playing ‘Love me do’ over and over again, both her and Susan had been singing along to the music and dancing wildly. Susan had been given a new record player for Christmas and they had played the ‘Please Please Me’ album on it a thousand times. Hours were spent singing along at the top of their voices and deciding which one of the Beatles they would most like to run away with. Susan chose Paul but Joy thought he was too wet, she preferred John as he was a rebel.

It was nearly five when Susan’s mum Margaret came in the room and reminded them of the time. Margaret was short and dumpy and was always wearing her gingham pinafore when Joy visited. She was short-sighted and wore fancy glasses with ornate frames. They were upswept at the sides and had little diamonds set into the pale blue wings. Her hair was always coiffed to within an inch of its life. She favoured a tight curly perm and lots of hair lacquer and the girls often giggled about Margaret’s hair looking like a helmet.

‘Be careful on your way home, love,’ said Margaret with concern. ‘It’s getting dark. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for Albert to give you a lift home? He’ll be back any time now and I can give your mum a ring and tell her, I’m sure she won’t mind.’

‘No thanks, that’s very kind of you but I’ll be fine,’ said Joy.

‘Well, make sure you hurry home, it’s nippy out there,’ said Margaret.

Joy was surprised how cold it was when she set off for home and she decided rather than walk the long way home she’d take the shortcut across the fields. It was late February and the day had been unusually mild but now the suns feeble rays had gone the day had changed and it was decidedly chilly. Joy was glad her mum had made her take her big coat to school, she pulled it snugly around her and sang at the top of her voice as she walked through the fields ‘Love, love me do, you know I love you.’ If nothing else, she thought, it would help keep the horses at bay. There were lots of them tethered on Spinney Cot and often one or two running loose.

She really liked the horses but was also a bit afraid of them. Her dad had told her to look the horses in the eye, be confident and never show fear and she took his advice; however, she was relieved when saw the stile ahead as the horses couldn’t go beyond it. When she got to the stile, she spotted the glint of a silver object shining in the grass. Curiosity got the better of her and she stooped down to pick it up and was shocked by the presence of a mountain of a man beaming at her from a weather-beaten face framed by a mane of black hair. He’d appeared out of the blue and was standing right next to her.

‘Why, I’ve been looking for that,’ he said. He took the piece of metal from Joy and held it out in the palm of his hand. ‘It’s a bit ring off me bridle.’ He stepped back and looked directly at her, still beaming; she felt a bit embarrassed, and hoped he didn’t think she was taking things that didn’t belong to her.

‘What are you doing up here at this time?’ he asked. ‘It’s getting dimsy dark, no time to be out in the fields for a youngster like you.’

‘I’m on my way home, I live just over there,’ she answered pointing into the distance. ‘There’s my house.’ She could just see its roof if she stood on her toes. When they had arrived less than a year ago, she wouldn’t have been able to see it. She had shot up recently and granny Flo called her runner bean. Her dad called her chicken legs which she didn’t mind as long as he didn’t say it in front of other people!

‘What’s a bridle?’ Joy asked.

‘It’s part of what a horse wears so you can control it,’ the man replied.

She wanted to ask more about the bridle but it was getting late and the light was fading fast. The man sensed her disappointment.

‘Come back tomorrow after school and I’ll show you a bridle,’ he offered, ‘and a horse if you like. Make sure you ask your folks first though.’ His voice had a soft lilting sound and his wide craggy face was split by a smile.

‘Come on, I’ll walk you to the end of Stone Road then you can hurry up and get home before it’s properly dark.’ She didn’t object to his spontaneous offer and felt glad of his company. He walked with a swagger exaggerated by his bow legs and whistled tunefully. It was a song Joy knew, one her nan Flo sang called Lily Marlene, for some reason the familiar song made her feel more at ease.

‘Here we are,’ he announced and extended his large rough hand to shake hers. ‘My name’s Rawny,’ he said. ‘What’s yours?’

‘I’m Joy, Joy West.’

‘Well, Joy West, here, bring it back tomorrow.’ He shoved the bright metal ring into her hand and then turned and walked in a brisk roll up the road. The metal was smooth and felt cool to the touch. She slipped it into her pocket, resumed her singing and ran the short distance to her home. When she went indoors, she could hear her mum on the phone.

‘That you, Joy?’ her mum called. ‘I’m on the phone to Margaret, Susan’s mum, I’ve invited Susan over to tea tomorrow.’

‘That’s great,’ Joy responded. She enjoyed having Susan over but was concerned about what Susan would think about Rawny and the horses. Would she be interested?

‘Did you have a nice time with Susan?’ her mum asked. ‘I was getting worried about you as it’s nearly dark.’

‘Yes, we had fish fingers and chips for tea and Angel delight.’

‘That sounds nice. Susan’s mum and dad are really friendly, aren’t they.’

‘They are nice, mum. Susan’s mum said I could have a lift home if I waited for her dad but it’s not very far to walk. She makes me tasty teas and doesn’t seem to mind at all when we have the music on a bit loud. She’s not pretty like you though, mum.’

‘Me pretty, don’t be daft,’ said her mum defensively. She blushed but was nonetheless flattered by the compliment.

‘You are, mum.’ Joy looked at her mum admiringly. She was tall with a shapely figure and had thick dark blonde hair a shade darker than Joy’s which she wore fashionably flicked up and shoulder length. She had lovely grey-blue eyes the same colour as Joy’s and she took trouble with her appearance.

‘Susan’s the nicest person in my class, mum, she’s never spiteful like a lot of the others.’

‘I think she’s a smashing girl, love. Have you got any homework tonight?’

‘No, we do practice tests most of the time now so they don’t give us homework.’

‘Do you fancy listening to some music on the stereo? We can take it in turns to pick our favourites.’

‘Ooh yes, can I pick first?’

‘Go on then.’ Joy ran into the spacious lounge and picked out lots of Beatles records. She was already dancing to ‘Love me Do’ by the time her mum joined her.

‘I might have known it would be Beatles,’ her mum laughed.

‘And you’ll pick Patsy Cline or Johnny Cash, won’t you.’

‘I will, his voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand out.’

‘You haven’t got hairs on the back of your neck, have you?’

‘Oh I don’t know, it’s just a turn of phrase. Turn that music up, what’s the point of having no neighbours if we can’t make a bit of noise.’

They played records for ages and danced about the room. Joy shrieked with laughter as her mum did exaggerated-dance moves.

Her mum finally sat down and wiped her brow, her face was flushed from dancing.

‘I enjoyed that, I think I’m beginning to like the Beatles,’ Rose said smiling. ‘I was waiting for you to come home tonight, watching the clock. Your dad’s got to do overtime and I get lonely here when he works nights. I do miss our old neighbours, the Bakers, I often used to chat to them when your dad worked late. I’ll come and kiss you goodnight and put the light out in half an hour.’

‘I miss the Bakers too, and Hazel,’ Joy said wistfully.

‘We can go and see them at the weekend when we visit your nan. Mr Baker will love seeing dad’s new car.’

Joy’s dad Bill had just taken delivery of their first ever car, a brand-new lime-green Ford Anglia, which Joy loved. Joy often went in the garage and sat in the car just daydreaming, marvelling at the controls on the dashboard, moving the passenger seat backwards and forwards and enjoying the smell of the newness.

She washed and cleaned her teeth quickly and excitedly jumped into bed. She had a new book from the library to read, but tonight she couldn’t focus on the story. Her mind tumbled with thoughts about horses and bridles and Beatles. When her mum came in to put the light out Joy was already asleep and her conscious thoughts had slipped seamlessly into her dreams. She had fallen asleep with her reading light on. Her book had slipped from her hand and lay open on the bedspread. Rose smiled at Joy, took the book away carefully so as not to wake her and put the bookmark in the page. She laid it on the bedside table and kissed her gently on the forehead.

She made a cup of tea and looked at the clock, barely ten o’ clock. She took her tea into the lounge and felt a sudden rush of pleasure and pride at what her and Bill had achieved. She sat back on the sofa with her feet up on the footstool. For the first time in her life she had new furniture. A fashionable black leather sofa with a footstool and two matching leather swivel chairs and a little nest of tables. She had given up her job just before they’d moved to the new house and had worried about being a housewife again. She’d taken a year off when she had Joy and had been working part time doing secretarial and admin work for years now. She hadn’t missed her job as much as she thought she would and enjoyed having the time to visit her mum and work in the garden.

Rose loved cooking and Bill was always in demand at work and she took real pleasure in giving him a hot meal when he came home late, especially in winter. She really hoped Joy would eventually settle into their new bungalow as she loved the spacious rooms and her and Bill had derived enormous pleasure planning their new garden together. They were really getting the back garden into shape with a lawn and flowerbeds and a big vegetable patch. They decided that they would have a rockery in the front garden which Bill had already started to build. How different from the tiny patch of land at her mum’s little terraced house, she mused.

The lounge walls were painted in soft magnolia and for the alcoves Rose had chosen wallpaper with abstract swirls of cherry red to complement the red wool carpet. French windows looked out onto the garden where Bill was planning to make a seating area and patio. She stretched her legs and sipped her tea and felt incredibly lucky that they could afford such luxury. A spacious bungalow, all new furniture, a new car; it overwhelmed her. It felt so claustrophobic now when she visited her mum Alice who still lived in the rented terrace that Rose had been born and brought up in. There was an outside toilet shared with neighbours at the end of the small back yard and no bathroom.

Rose’s bath nights had been once weekly in a big tin bath in front of the sitting room fire. Her elder brother Len was first in then Rose, as she was the youngest last, that was the rule and there was no argument. Sometimes her mum got in and used the water when they’d finished. Monday was always wash-day and the washing was done in a copper that boiled and boiled filling the house with great clouds of steam that caused condensation to pour down the windows. ‘Good for the complexion,’ her mum Alice used to say laughingly. Their lives had been dominated by routine, hard work and poverty. They didn’t starve but there was often barely enough food to go around.

Her father, Robert, had died when she was only 3 and she had no real memory of him apart from a beautiful framed portrait that her mum gave pride of place to on the front room wall. A warm, kind face with smiling eyes, thick neatly combed side parted hair and an impressive moustache. He had died of TB and Alice had coped alone now for over thirty-five years. Len shared with her the memories of her dad and they were mostly sad. Robert spent the last two years of his life bedridden, weak and consumed with guilt at not being able to support his family whilst Alice had worked long hours at the glove factory to keep them all fed and clothed.

Her wonderful brother Len was dead, such a gentle soul should never have gone to war. He was killed in the market garden offensive. He’d rang home on the phone at the off licence next door just days before he died. She remembered it vividly as he had sung ‘I’m dreaming of a White Christmas’ to her, he was so excited to be getting leave at Christmas. But it was not to be and all these years later, her heart still filled with sadness when she thought of him and she still blamed Montgomery for her brother’s untimely death. Len’s photo took pride of place on the mantel piece and was always decorated with poppies on Remembrance Day. She had loved him fiercely, the more so as he had been both a father and brother to her when she was growing up. Rose had also lost her fiancée in the war and the blow had left her numb with grief, she had never expected to love again and then, she had met Bill.

Swaggering confidently down the platform with his kit bag slung over his shoulder. He was changing trains to go home on leave to see his mother after two years away fighting the war at sea. She had been distracted walking down the platform, fiddling in her handbag and she bumped right into him. There was an instant attraction and she noticed his white even teeth and smiling green eyes as he laughed out loud and invited her for a drink. Much to her surprise she had accepted and the rest was history. They had fallen head over heels in love, it had been thrilling. She’d felt light headed for months on end and laid awake at nights sick with worry that he may not return. As soon as the war was over they married and Bill was everything she had ever dreamed of and more. His mother and stepfather welcomed her into the family immediately.

The years had not only strengthened her love for him but increased her respect for him as well. He worked so hard at his job and in their home and he was like a son to Alice, her mother. The bungalow amazed Alice who thought it was ‘like a palace’ and came over every week. Alice never tired of opening the new fridge and was fascinated by the light that came on automatically. She was grateful to be able to put her sheets and towels in the new washing machine and enjoyed listening to the stereo gram. She didn’t much care for the TV apart from Sunday night at the London Palladium or Take Your Pick. Bill had bought Alice a small TV but she hardly ever switched it on, she preferred sitting with her ear next to the wireless set listening to Mrs Dales diary or the Archers with a glass of Guinness in her hand. Most of all she loved trips out and now they had the new car they would be able to really spoil her.

Rose would have loved another child but it just didn’t seem to happen for her and Bill, a mystery as she’d fallen so quickly for Joy who was conceived during their honeymoon in Bournemouth. The guest house had double booked and they’d been given a partial refund and put in an attic room. They didn’t care, they were in love and their honeymoon was not only the first time they’d slept together, it was the first time they’d spent any time alone. The room had been painted baby blue and had flowered wallpaper; she remembered every detail of it like it was yesterday.

She smiled to herself as she recalled them both banging their heads on the low ceiling as they’d frisked about in bed, carefree and happy. She hoped Joy would find happiness as she had. She stirred and tiptoed up the hall to check on Joy. The bedroom door was always left slightly open as she didn’t like the dark. Joy was sleeping soundly, her long blonde hair spread out behind her on the pillow, an arm and one long slender leg flung sideways out of bed. She tucked her in and hoped Bill wouldn’t be back too late.

Chapter 2

Meeting Daisy

The next day at school had been spent doing practise papers for the 11 plus and Joy was glad when it was home time. Her mum and dad had promised to buy her a brand-new bike if she passed her exams to replace the second hand one she rode now. Susan was coming over for tea and Joy had told her excitedly about meeting Rawny the night before and how they could go up and see the horses together but Susan hadn’t seemed too sure about it.

‘My mum says I should stay away from the gypsies and the horses,’ she said. ‘It’s really cold outside as well, can’t we just listen to records.’

‘Oh come on,’ Joy coaxed as they walked back from school together. ‘I’ll share my sweets. I’ve got to give this horse thingy back to Rawny anyway.’

As soon as they had got home, Joy was impatient to get out.

‘We’re off out to the fields,’ she called to her mum. ‘Up Spinney Cot.’

Her mother came