Chapter 6 - Home Again

The end of the war was celebrated by an enormous party in the grounds of Burne Jones House. The Cavaliers were most instrumental in organising this particular party which was held on the grassed area at the front of the flats. Also, there was a huge bonfire, round which residents from the area danced, alternated with singing and drinking. The site for this was a site cleared opposite a house called 'The Grange' where Burne Jones was once reputed to have lived. There was a young couple living in the house and they were included in a large circle of people who had joined hands and were dancing round the fire. The circle moved faster and faster until it got out of control and some people were pulled across the edge of the fire. Of course, the women had bare legs and one such was quite badly burned.

For reasons which I reveal later, I had the privilege of getting to know Mr Cavalier better than the rest of our family and eventually called him 'Bert'. To avoid using a number of names as the story unfolds I will therefore refer to him as 'Bert'. He had several mannerisms which had varying response. For example, he had a habit of saying to anybody who sounded as if they felt themselves to be superior, however unintentional, "Anybody would think that I was somebody ordinary." Once, in the Army, he had just been promoted to the dizzy heights of Lance Corporal and, while chatting to one of his pals who he felt was being a bit on the pushy side said to him, "Anybody would think that I was somebody ordinary." Of course, his pal thought that he was serious and promotion had gone to his head.

On another occasion, 'Bert' was driving the Council's van, a smart new Hillman, with very impressive coat of arms on the driver's door and his speed along the Embankment was in excess of the speed limit. A Police motor cyclist stopped him, walked back, slowly removing has gloves and began a lengthy lecture on driver behaviour etc which gradually made 'Bert' feel a bit oppressed and, without giving it a second thought, out came, "Anybody would think that I was somebody ordinary." The Policeman looked 'Bert' up and down, his eyes coming to rest on the coat of arms. He drew himself to attention, gave 'Bert' a smart salute, apologised and then drove away.

Another of 'Bert's' attributes was that he was ambidextrous. I have seen others who could write with the pen held in either the right or left hand but with a difference in the two results. Not so with 'Bert' who, when he was writing a lengthy piece, say the Minutes of a Union Meeting, without a pause would simply change hands and continue writing. The changeover, whether in mid-word or mid-sentence be impossible to detect. His handwriting was not exactly copper plate but was very neat and well formed, a pleasure to see and a joy to read. I realise that it sounds like inverted snobbery but is not intended to be so when I say that a letter from 'Bert' was almost like a visit. Rather like reading the autobiography 'Henry Cooper', all the Cockney expressions are there and one can picture the writer as if he were in the room.

When School life returned to normal, I journeyed to and from Wandsworth High Street by number 28 'bus until I had refurbished Dad's old bicycle. That old machine went on to give many year's service both to 'Jimmy' and me. I recall that the tyres did not seem to last long and we solved this by using second hand tandem tyres. We found that a second hand tandem tyre on the back would outlast two new cycle tyres on the front. The quality of the ride may not have been up to Claude Butler standards but our pockets were a more important control than the ride. At the last estimate we calculated that we had cycled 100,000 miles between us.

I found Jean Cavalier very attractive, and we often did our Mathematics homework together. There was never that magic spark which might have led to greater things. Games were played in the courtyard of the flats and I probably had a memory of one of Dad's childhood pastimes. When a youngster he would ask an elderly man who happened to be passing to knock very loudly on a door, "Because I can't reach the knocker and my uncle, who lives there is very deaf." Dad would then make himself scarce and observe the result from a distance. One of the ground floor tenants was a very stout lady, Mrs ('Old Fatty') Thompson. She took every opportunity to grumble at us about our ball games, noise and any other 'offence' imaginable. There was a brick built structure in the yard with containers for rubbish into which the tenants emptied their own individual buckets. This structure gave ideal cover for my version of 'Knock Down Ginger'. Using a length of black cotton, one end was attached to 'Old Fatty's' knocker, the other end held in the hand while concealed behind the dustbin container. When all seemed peaceful a jerk on the cotton brought 'Old Fatty' to her door. After a suitable delay, a repeat of the performance gave the desired result. One day, we were too impatient to bleed this trick to its full advantage and eventually gave a knock when 'Old Fatty' was still waiting just inside her door. There wasn't time to let out sufficient slack and she saw the cotton. I don't remember there being any difficulty after that and it may therefore have served a useful purpose.

One family who lived on the 'same staircase' was the Cohen family (no known relation to Ken) and, in spite of my lack of ability at ball games I did, on more than one occasion, play football with George Cohen. His name may ring a bell as a member of the successful England team in the World Cup of 1966.

Another tenant who is worth a mention is Mr Collins. His family had been moved from Wyfold Road at his request. He was most frequently heard to express the view that Wyfold Road was far superior and that he would dearly love to go back. One Sunday I had a birthday party and my guests sang 'Happy Birthday To You'. Mr Collins came up from his flat, which was immediately below ours, to complain that we were disturbing his Sunday Afternoon nap. His use of expletives was to be his downfall because, when the Rent Man called and heard Mrs Collins's version, followed by Mum's, it was decided that the time had come for the return of the Collins family to Wyfold Road.

Much later, I worked for Fulham Borough Council and went to Wyfold Road to do some work for a young couple and they were concerned about the noise made by their baby daughter disturbing a neighbour who complained that he had been moved out of Burne Jones House and wanted to get back there. I was able to provide the young couple with enough information to silence the nasty neighbour who was, needless to say, Mr Collins. It might be sensible to mention that Wyfold Road refers to a large estate of Council flats erected at a very early stage and therefore anything but modern and were considered by most people as fairly low in the quality league so far as Council accommodation was concerned. One feature of Council accommodation was that any tenant who failed to pay his rent or exhibited other undesirable characteristics was that he would be moved to an alternative in less desirable accommodation. Presumably this would be classed as an infringement of that person's liberty not to pay his way in these so called enlightened times.

Most of the staff from Guildford came back to Wandsworth. There were some changes. For example, 'Bomber' Browning was due to retire. We had a new Gym teacher, Mr Chaffy, a sadist if ever I met one. He took great delight in bullying any pupil who caused his displeasure, by being either too good or no good at games. A typical case of somebody who should never have been employed as a teacher. Any sensible person would not have expected me to even consider walking on to a football pitch. My sight defect makes it impossible for me to ever develop any skill at ball games. However, Mr Chaffy would have been unable to extract his pound of flesh without all the unskilled boys being required to shiver on the touchline.

Another addition to the staff was Mr Barrett, who had not been evacuated. He taught Electrical Principles and I have never heard a student say anything derogatory about him. As the day for leaving approached, Dr Lewis came to the classroom with a list of employers and asked us to say whether we wished to be 'Electrical' or 'Mechanical'. No doubt due to the profound effect of Mr Barrett I opted to be 'Electrical'. There then came the decision whether to seek an apprenticeship. My decision was based on purely financial considerations. I could not afford to live on the wage offered to an apprentice and agreed to try for a job as an Electrician's Mate at T Clarke, a firm of electrical contractors in Sloane Street. Mr Ainsworth, one of the directors, interviewed me and I was introduced to the closed shop principle. One snag with this policy is the 'Catch 22' situation where one cannot get a job unless one has Union Membership and one cannot get Union Membership unless one has a job.

There are a number of aspects of this which are not clearly understood and, equally, a number of aspects used by people for their own selfish ends to the disadvantage of the majority. However, when I went to my local branch (London West) of the Electrical Trades Union (in pub, of course) I was treated very gently and welcomed as a new 'Brother'. I then started at Clarke's. The career prospects were that I would work as an Electrician's Mate for five years and then 'Get The Tools' This meant that one's branch of the Union would decide whether one should now be admitted to the Skilled Section and seek work as an Electrician. In earlier times this was decided by a trade test but such tests are no longer the norm. It is quite likely that membership of the Skilled Section is now meaningless. I have known so called skilled tradesmen who should not even be in the Unskilled Section. 'Getting The Tools' does not mean that anybody awards the individual with a set of tools but simply that one is entitled to use them, ie becomes recognised as a Skilled Electrician.

My first job as a Mate was at a hospital being built at Bromley near Bow, followed by a period in a new stores, being equipped at Hammersmith. The expenses system intrigued me since Sloane Square was taken as the base of operations and the job at Bow cost me quite a lot as I was paid fares from Sloane Square, having paid from West Kensington. The job at Hammersmith was profitable, not only because we lived on the route but also because I could use a bicycle. Another gain occurred because London Transport issued 'Workman's Tickets' for trains departing before 7.3O am. These expenses may seem too trifling to worry about but I had started at the age of 16 with a wage of 15 shillings (75p) per week, the Union Rate.

My next job was at Kensington Palace, in the 'Grace and Favour' apartments being prepared for Countess Alice and the Earl of Athlone. I was horrified to see the war damage resulting from connecting fire hoses to the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens, to extinguish incendiary bombs. The result was that fungus grew behind the wall panelling which was largely stripped. I was employed installing some temporary lighting and my only contact with royalty was accidental and certainly not intentional because I was merely crossing a room on my lawful route when I had to pass between our foreman and a lady visitor and so, saying "Excuse me", I did so. Later that day I was given a reprimand for interrupting Countess Alice.

The next job was at the Grafton Hotel, Tottenham Court Road, which had been occupied by refugees during the war and was to be converted for use as accommodation for nurses working at the nearby University College Hospital. I could quite understand why Fulham Borough Council were determined to fill their own flats. It was necessary not only to disinfect the Hotel but to strip off picture rails, architrave, skirting and some other timber, including 'capping and casing' which we had started to refurbish, and to replace it with conduit. The use of timber casing technique in nurse's accommodation may not have been a wise move but expensive alterations were entirely due to the filthy state in which the hotel had been left.

My 'spare' time was spent making rat traps in an attempt to control the infestation. Model 'C' was a 415 volt device, baited with a piece of cheese or other titbit, from which the human smell had been burnt by a short blast with a blowlamp. In the early stages it was possible to kill rats as fast as I could prepare the trap. My score fell as I reduced the population.

I had my first electric shock at the Hotel. I was making a connection to the 415 volt supply, holding one 'bus bar firmly in my left hand and tightening a lug to another 'bus bar with a box spanner. I therefore had a firm grip across two phases ie on 415 volts, when another Mate gave his Electrician a supply by switching 'ON'. I didn't feel a thing but simply woke up wrapped round a potato peeling machine, having been thrown some 15 feet.

By this time I had passed my 17th Birthday and had become entitled to 25 shillings (£1.25) per week. There was some reduction in the work available at Clarke's and I was made redundant. It was usual for the Electrician and his Mate to stay together as a 'pair' and I went with 'Bill' Bell to Union Headquarters in Grays Inn Road where we were informed of a job possibility at Platts of St Martins Lane. Our first job for this firm was at a butcher's shop in Brixton. The tram ride along Vauxhall Bridge Road was memorable. After we had finished at Brixton, the firm sent us to Finchley to do a complete rewiring job at the house of an architect who had given quite a lot of work to Platt. There were several interesting aspects to this job. Firstly, the space under the ground floor varied between 18 and 3O inches and this gave easy access for wiring. The young son was living at home and he was dissuaded from going under the floor by his mother after I had mentioned that although there were no live rats and therefore little danger, it might not be wise. This gave me freedom to strip out all the lead cable to sell privately as 'bluey'. Also, there was a small hoard of 6d (21/2p) pieces which the lad had 'posted' through a gap in the floorboards. This was a welcome addition to the Chapman fund.

One day, as we left to go to lunch, a neighbour passed and we instantly recognised each other. It was Mrs Fleetcroft and she invited me to tea the following day. It was not as pleasant as it might have been, taking tea with my old headmaster, owing to my embarrassment, due to a runny nose. It gave me pleasure, nevertheless, to see that they were enjoying their retirement.

At about this time I met up with Ken Curwen again and he had an uncle who needed some electrical work done in his house. This marks the beginning of Westken Electrics which I registered as a business name.

I was not surprised that Ken wanted to assume the role of 'boss' but this was quickly resolved when he realised that he knew nothing about the electrical contracting business, whereas I was fairly knowledgeable. The whole job netted £70 of which Ken got £20. Payment was made just before Christmas 1946 which made a considerable contribution to our food and drink.

When the Finchley job was finished, we were redundant once more and I decided to break with my Electrician and seek work locally. Employers were reluctant to take on anybody who was due for National Service and the Labour Exchange could only offer the job of Assistant Projectionist at the Globe Cinema, Putney. The Globe was commonly known as the 'Bug Hutch' because of its lowly status compared with the Odeon. Being a projectionist does not require a great deal of skill and I quickly mastered the fundamentals. I had one interesting moment when two reels of the film 'Tom Browns School Days' were shown in reverse order and Tom was shown being punished and then committing the offence. Nobody seemed to notice and I have often thought that this sequence might perhaps have added to the enjoyment of the story.

In addition to my duties as a Projectionist I suggested that the cinema should be rewired. I might have suggested this in any case, but the work was long overdue. The sum of £70 seems to have become my standard fee and, if this does not sound much for a cinema it is well to remember that it represents overtime pay in a few weeks in 1947. I was also paid extra to stick up posters in the Putney and Richmond areas. The unusual working hours were, at first, difficult to cope with but I quickly became accustomed to starting at 10 am, 1.30 pm or even 4 pm and finishing after the last performance at 10:30 pm. This at first seemed an odd time to take a girl friend out, going home at 4 am and it does limit ones circle of friends to other employees in the cinema. When my 18th Birthday came along I asked the Manager for a rise, in accordance with Union Rules. He was very much opposed to having anything to do with any Union arrangements but wanted his wiring finished and recognised that he could not get another projectionist at my wage and so paid up.

The days quickly passed and, all too soon, I received that 'impossible to refuse' invitation from the Government to be medically tested.

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