Hullo Old Home

[brian daley]

1955 was skidding past so fast it was hard to keep track of things,I was thirteen and a bit and the old Adam in me was beginning to make itself felt.
The voice was thirst thing to change,going from a boy soprano to a squeaky,uncertain croak,the spots bursting out in crucial places.Adolescence was a terrible price to pay for the journey into manhood.Which was still a long way off.
At school we had had showers installed and it was mandatory to use them after sports.That 12 months difference became very obvious when I was in the showers with the rest of my class.......................I was the pubeless one.I wished to god for at least one or two little follicles to start sprouting,instead I was greeted with cries of baldy b++++++s,whenever I showed up.You just had to laugh along with them or you'd go under.
I was mates with 3 lads from Woolton now,Joey Lewis,Billy Dawber and Reggie Owen.We were four very different characters.Joey,loved the Teddy boy style,but would never dare dress like that,had a machinegun style of patter and a very sharp wit,Reggie,he was always dressed very conventially,school uniform and hair very neat and tidy,but game for a laugh and a joke.And Billy,almost a mirror image of me,no school uniform,hair and clothes unkempt,but the funniest of the four of us.Dinnertime would find us spending our school dinner money on a vienna loaf from the bakers,always hot and crusty,we would bite the end off it and hollow it out(eating the removed innards),and then we would go to the chip shop and get threepennorth of chips, which we would pack onto the hollowed out loaf.Sheer bliss,I would love to do that one more time before I die!
With our change,all this was out of a shilling,we would buy a chocolate cigar from the sweet shop and then meander up to the golf course or Woolton park.
There were some beautiful chestnut trees on the Woolton side of Heath Road and boys from our school had gathered their conkers from them for generations past.
It was at such a time that one our of class mates,Googy Mills,climbed high up one of the bigger trees and fell.We were shocked to find that he had died ,it's a cliche ,but he really was a nice kid.
The whole school went into mourning for Googy,he was an all round sportsman,and a proper lad,he was greatly missed.
We four ,on the other hand,were all round wastrels,not one of us was in a team,we were always amongst the last in cross country races and were never picked for teams,kids in leg irons had a better chance than us!
So,what were we good at?......................Enjoying ourselves.I count those dinner time walks as being amongst the best times of my school life.I was only sad that the four of us didn't live closer so that we could spend more time together.
We would discuss what we had seen at the pictures,Joey would practically re-enact whole films for us,talk about our favourite radio shows,The Goon Show being top favourite,with Ray's a Laugh coming a close second.Television did'nt feature much in our conversations,there wasn't really that much on then,ITV was not yet born.
Sex raised it's head,quite literally,in the dying months of '55.Our class had a boy from a well known orphanage join us.He appeared to be a lot older than the rest of us ,worldly wise and full of new swear words,and we thought we knew them all,he was contemptuous of all the masters and pushed them to their limits.One afternoon,we were in a maths class taken by Mr.Blease,a man of great age,looked like Degaulle without a moustache,but must have been 70 or so.When we went to his class,we four would always sit on the back row,so that we could have a laugh.This time the orphan was in our midst.Midway during the lesson,he put up the lid of his desk,pulled out his willy,we thought he was going to pee in to the desk,but he shocked us by doing something we had never seen before.We could't fathom out what the hell was going on,he was groaning and grunting and all the while fiddling,and then of a sudden he stopped,with a dopey look on his face.Blimey!Old Mr. Blease hadn't noticed a thing,but the whole back row had just undergone a rite of passage.
A short while later I underwent another rite of passage.It was when I took our Chris around to Maggies for her babysitting stint.I knocked on the door as usual and one of the twins,John or Paul,I could never tell them apart,opened the door and told me to take Chris into the bedroom,pointing to which one.I went in and saw Maggie sitting on the bed in all her naked glory.This was the first truly naked woman I had ever seen,I didn't rush out,I couldn't.I was transfixed,she was so voluptuous,I just drank in the vision,seeing everything that had heretofore been a mystery.Womanhood.She threw a towel at me and told me to scarper.I limped to school in a dream.
When she came round for her money on Friday ,she told Mum that I wasn't such a little feller after all.


Did you ever look in the larder and notice that there was something there that had been there forever?Being a bit of a gannet I was always on the lookout for a surplus bit of grub.Now there was a Peak Freans christmas pudding that had been on the back shelf forever,well since last christmas at least.My bedroom was at the rear of the hallway,but our Jess's was next door to the larder and ,for reasons that I have long forgotten, I was put In Jess's room for one night while she was away.Next door to the larder!
When everyone was safely abed,I snuck out to the larder and lifted the pudding.I unwrapped it and got stuck in.Bit of a job eating an uncooked pudding,I managed to put away half of it,and ,forgetting I was in Jess's room,chucked the remains out of the window.Instead of landing on the green below,they landed just to the left of the front door step.Next morning I was awakened by Mum,holding the half eaten pudding,I never knew she had such a salty vocabulary.Good job she didn't tell Dad.

[brian daley]

My search for work was unceasing,I wanted to have a bicycle like most of the kids I knew,but I knew that I was going to have to get one myself,it was out of the question to ask Mum or Dad for one.
By late '55 I was working full time on a Saturday for Mr. Cohen in Garston Market,as well as doing the baggage carrying on a Tuesday for two other stall holders.It gave me enough for the pictures and my comic books after Mum had taken her 7/6d off me.(37.5p).
One of the lads in our class worked for Appletons hardware store as a delivery boy,and ,knowing that I was looking for just such a job,informed me that he would be leaving school at Christmas and that I should apply for his job.
I was down at the shop as soon as I could get there,the manager,Mr. Moore was a very smartly dressed man of about 30,he wore a starched collar and his tie was done in a perfect knot.He gave me the once over,asked me a stack of questions,you would have thought I was applying to join the police!
He never asked if I could ride a bike though,and I never told him I couldn't,(after that crossbar incident on the commando bike I had never been near a bike)
As soon as school broke up for Christmas,Roy left Appletons and I reported for duty on the Saturday.
I was given a brush and told to sweep the main shop floor,and as the staff arrived,Mr Moore introduced me as the new lad.The staff consisted of three ladies,Mary,Barbara and Anne.Mary was silvery haired and had a very nice disposition,she became like an Aunty to me,Barbara had a beautiful face and a lovely figure,her blonde hair was styled like Lauren Bacalls,and she always wore a sensual perfume.But when she smiled...............,she hadn't got a tooth in her mouth!
Anne was about 16,she wore her hair in braids tied at the top of her head like a young fraulein,she had a wonderful complexion,blue eyes and nice red lips,but she was very,very chaste.Her family were strict christians and would not countenance any stylish dress or allow her to go dancing,she never complained,it was all the life she knew.
I came to love all three of those ladies during the course of the next two
years,Mr. Moore became,Ronnie after a little while and he and his family became very close to me during my youth.But I still haven't been out on a delivery yet!
It was during the morning that I was given my first delivery,a couple of tins of paint,bundles of wallpaper,paste,brushes and everything else required for a full decoration.Mr. Moore helped me load up my carrier,opened the back gate while I got the bike out and then,thank god,closed the gate and went back inside.What the hell was I going to do now?The shop was on St. Marys' Road,which was a slight hill going towards the crossroads at the bottom,apart from those tenuous few yards on the commando bike,I had no idea about getting started,I wheeled the bike around to the front of the shop and then down the road to the other side of the crossroads,just by the woolshop.The load made the bike heavy and hard to balance and I couldn't get my leg over the crossbar without it falling over.Phew,what the hell was I going to do?This delivery was for Speke and I was told to get back as quick as I could because there would be some more to do later on.There was a man my Dads age walking towards the Baths and I asked him if he could help me to get started.He laughed when I told him my story and eagerly jumped at the chance to get me mobile.Held the bike while I got mounted and then ran with me ,steadying me as I wobbled a bit,"Get pedalling now!" he shouted and I rode off toward Speke!
It felt marvellous,up past the Bus sheds,past Horrocks Avenue,struggled up over the railway bridge and then freewheeled down past the Tennies and Bryant and Mays.Those were the days when there was far less traffic about,I felt safe and when I came to the cycle track that ran along Speke Road I was on easy street.I practised braking and dismounting,I didn't want to land in a heap outside the customers house.The lady lived in Central Avenue and was so pleased when I arrived that she gave me sixpence as a tip. I flew back to the shop and did 2 more trips that day,getting another tip in the process.I was on 12 shillings a week ,Mum wanted 7/6d,and so ,with the tips, I would soon be a man of means .
That Christmas was the first that I was able to buy some gifts for my parents,not big gifts,ciggies for Dad and Black Magic chocolates for Mum,but it felt good being able to do it.
I still helped in the Market after I finished at Appletons and thus helped to swell my coffers by about another 5 shillings.
!956 saw me leaving the market jobs behind,Appletons were getting busier,which meant more deliveries,Mr Moores' wife,Mary had given birth to a little boy,Ronnie was his name and I sometimes babysat for them.Apart from my clothes,life was getting to be very good for me now,the clothes?..I was growing so fast that everything was too small for me in no time flat.Mum was despairing and resorted to buying second hand to help keep the costs down.
I can remember a suit she bought me ,it was about 30 years out of date,looked like the one Jimmy Cagney wore in Public Enemy.Double breasted ,with wide lapels and twenty inch bottoms on the trousers,this was my school suit,it was also my work suit and I pretty soon ruined it by getting the turn ups constantly meshed in the pedal chain.The bottom of my right trouser leg was an oily, ragged, mess.
By now I had my bike,it had a carrier and a name board under the crossbar,but it was a bike!Mr Mooore,or Ronnie as he was now known to me,let me take it home everyday.I rented a lock up by our block and used to keep it in there .I cleaned and polished it and gave it the occasional lick of paint,this was my independent mode of transport.There were a whole group of us order boys,Irwins,Pegrams,Dewhursts and the Co-Op to name just a few.We would swap tales and race each other,friendships were born among those young knights of the road.In my spare time, I would get a large cardboard box,an outer from the Kellogs cornflakes.This would sit snugly in my carrier and I would cut two small holes in the bottom and a larger,horizontal rectangular hole near the top.I put a cushion inside and,on top if this I would put my little sister Chris.She loved it,it was her car and we would go for long rides all over the place.
Jess was almost independent now,still at the Matchworks,but she wanted to see the world.Mum had become used to Jess's wages and she wasn't about to let her go off,she was sixteen.It was time for her to get a life of her own,she was desperate to join the Wrens,Dad was scathing,he was always telling us that life in the forces would do us both good ,but when Jess wanted to find that out first hand, he put the block on it.Jess tried to persuade him but he put his foot down and said that he didn't want his daughter becoming an officers groundsheet.That insult hurt our Jess,and it still hurts today,to think that her father had so little trust in her her own sense of propriety.
That same year a group of soldiers came to our school,they were recruiting for the Junior Army,(I was still a school year ahead of my real age and was in the class that would start leaving School in the summer),they showed a film and gave us forms to take home to our parents if we wanted to go there instead of going into a factory when we left school.I was dead keen,and wouldn't Dad be proud of me ,going off to become a soldier?
He hit the roof when I showed him the papers ,"who the Hell d'you think you are?" he shouted,"You're too soft to be in the Army"............Disappointed,I tore the forms up,but resolved that I would show him someday that I was not as soft as he thought I was.
There was only one boy out of our class who went into the Junior Army,David Hough was his name,the last time I saw him was in 1959,he looked great,every inch an officer type ,with his cravat,cavalry twill and desert boots.I often wonder what became of him.
But school still beckoned for me,and I was beginning to get concerned about the Big Lie,soon I would have to reveal that I was only 14 and not, as the rest of the class ,15.When I revealed my fears to Mum she told me that she had told Banks Road school my real age and that the class I had been put into there ,was the class I should have been in after the summer break.It was my fault...........................................,h ow was I going to explain all that to our headmaster,Mr Simpson,and man renown for his lack of humour.
At school assembly one morning,during the punishment period,he had two senior boys standing there awaiting the cane.He read out the "crimes" that they were accused of,one of which was smoking behind the bike sheds.
Glowering at them,he turned to the rest of us and thundered"SMOKING ,BEHIND THE BICYCLE SHEDS!!........I COULD UNDERSTAND IT IF THEY WERE GERMANS!!!!"
We kids were given a mental image of German kids walking around puffing on fags.An image that I found to be very untrue when I went there a few years later.
So how to tell this choleric old man that I was a fake?.....................Mum sat down and wrote him a long letter and told me to take it to him in person.
The very next day I asked Miss Pugh,his secretary,if I could have a word with Mr Simpson,she went in and asked ,and then came out and led me into his presence.Close up he was very poweful,he could have been a general or captain of industry,such was his persona.Looking over his halfmoon glasses,he asked what I wanted to tell him,tongue tied ,I handed him Mums letter.He took his paper knife and slowly cut it open,the only sounds to be heard were the cracking and spitting of the coal fire,and the thudding of my heart.
I watched as his eyes scanned Mums words.Slowly,but perceptibly,a smile started to appear on his face.And then he laughed,this fearsome man was laughing aloud.He put the letter down and looked up at me "Daley,this is wonderful,you now have the chance to catch up on you education!"I was amazed,no shouting,no punishment,what had Mum written?To this day I don't know,but whatever she wrote ,it worked.
That summer,all of my classmates would leave school and embark on their careers,I would have another year at Heath Road.
What would the future bring?

[brian daley]

The period between Easter and Summer school holidays was long and I looked forward to the break with very mixed feelings,all of the boys I had spent the last four years with were about to go out into the great wide world to start their working life.I,on the other hand,was going to spend another school year,with boys who were near strangers to me,boys who were heretofore called"juniors".
There was no slacking off in my studies,I still had a lot of learning to do.
It was ironic in that I was still treated as a school leaver,when the class were taken on visits to the various factories that would be recruiting school leavers,I was always included.I did not like what I saw.We went to Dunlops,The Box company,Manesty's,Evans Medical and others.I could'nt see myself stuck at a lathe or welding machine for days on end.Besides my Dad wanted me to be apprenticed to him at the ROF.God,he was bad enough at home with his sergeant majors ways,there was no way that I could work under him.I would be forever disappointing him.
I liked metal work though,we went to a prefab type building in Horrocks Avenue for our weekly sessions.Unlike my pathetic woodworking skills,metalwork was something I understood and liked.
The first thing I ever made was a key fob,just a little copper tag,pierced with a hole at one end;we covered it in wax and scratched the name of the recipient on it.I wrote my Dads name,we then dipped it in acid and the name was etched sharply in to the metal.I took it home and gave it to Dad,he looked at it,turning it this way and that,and then said "You left it too long in the acid,you'd a got a better finish.................."He saw my face and never did finish that sentence.I never took anything I made home after that,I made shovels,lampstands,a beautiful multicoloured poker and a coffee table.I gave them all to my boss at Appletons,he and his wife Mary always made a fuss when I gave them something.But life has a way of showing us how wrong our assumptions can be,when my Dad was dying in hospital,I was sitting with him and he reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out his wallet.He took out the key tag and handed it to me.................he'd kept it close to him for more than forty years.What fools we men can be,that summed up our whole relationship,never saying what we really felt,letting our heads rule our hearts.
But I digress,back then ,in '56,life was changing,and so was the music,skiffle was all the rage,we had 6,5 Special on a Saturday night and jive was the dance to learn.Our Jess loved dancing and was an ace jiver,she had the pony tail,the waspy belt,the chiffon choker..............and a trail of boyfriends.
We saw less and less of her now,she was always out,and Mum worked at the Matchworks with her now.Chris was three and Bette was nine and a bit,our Bette was lumbered with the job of picking Chris up from Maggie Browns now because I used to go to Appletons straight from school.I did'nt have time forthe Market now and,anyway I'd got myself a Sunday morning job delivering papers for Thompsons,the paper shop across the road from the fire station.I got 7/6d for a two hour round ,I was getting to be able to afford to buy some clothes now,out of Freemans catalogue!
Mum was embarrassed by my my ragbag appearance,I remember one Saturday when she was going to a wedding reception,I was pushing my bike out of Appletons yard when she was walking past the street I was in,there she is,striding up St.Marys Road,dolled up to the nines in her big fur coat,surrounded by her mates,all in their glad rags too,when this ragged urchin calls out "Where are yer gowin Mam!!?"She near died of embarassment,she fluttered her hand and smiled ,pushing her mates forward.I twigged,but not a moment too soon.
Another time I was tootling along on my order bike,I turned left off St Marys Road to take a short cut past the Empire,when I runs into a pack of screaming females,our Jess's mate Brenda amongst them.What the hell was up?They were jumping and yelling,some were crying!And then I saw why,Frankie Vaughan was signing copies of his latest hit in the record shop.
Shirley Bassey was there a few months later.It was'nt rock and roll but it was pop and it was coming eveywhere.
There was a little cafe on the road up to Garston Park and it was around this time that the owner installed a Bal Ami juke box.America had arrived in Garston!! The place was packed out everynight,6d got you a cup of coffee and a shilling got you four records on the box,it even took threepenny bits.I can ramember going in with Frankie Williams and finding the place full of semi Teds,they had the hair styles but no suits,I went straight over to the juke box and stuck me 3d in ,picked a record,Lonnie Donegans Rock Island Line,this immediately began to play and I was subjected to murderous threats by this enormous kid Because he had just put a shilling in and my record played before any of his.Frank and I retired gracefully,zapping off to the Lyceum to lie low for a few hours .
The Lyceum,a place of learning as the Greeks would have it ,not that place though.It was a flea pit,the screen was full of patches and the seats were so uncomfortable.It never showed the top films,I don't suppose it could afford them.But that was the place I saw the original King Kong,a fantastic film,they showed all the X rated and H rated films,so fleabitten though it was,it was never empty.And it had one thing the Empire never had,love seats.Double seats where you could sit and canoodle,sometimes the action in those seats was better than that on screen.
I spent many a happy ,if unhealthy hour,watching life in all its glory from the
shilling seats in the Lyceum.

We had a new teacher now,one who would colour the world a little differently,he was an ex Merchant Navy officer.

[brian daley]

I hated maths,couldn't see the point of filling a bath with holes in to see how long it would take,algebra,logarithms,triginometry,it was all chinese to me.I used to spend blissful hours at the maths desk,counting the dust motes as they glistened in the shafts of sunlight,dreaming of distant coral strands where the surf broke on golden beaches and palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze.My maths results reflected the attention paid during the lesson.7 out of a hundred was my usual score.Our new maths teachers had no more chance of gaining my attention to the matter in hand than I had of flying to the moon,but he did succeed in one thing.He determined me on a seagoing career,to the exclusion of everything else!
Mr Pomfrey was not a young man,nor was he handsome or well built,he was portly and not very tall,but he was magnetic when you got him onto the subject of ships and the sea.
The maths lessons for Form 4b became a history of Mr Pomfreys' life aboard the ships of the Merchant Navy,through him we learned of the best ports in the world for a sailor,what life was like in Shanghai before the war,what burgoo was(porridge),that ceilings were deckheads,that boys were peggys' and that the 12 to 4 watch was the best watch of all.He taught us Masefield,"Dirty British coaster with a salt caked smoke stack,ploughing through the channel on a mad March day.He related mathematics to his time as a 2nd mate,and illustrated the uses of logarithms and all the other disciplines,their applications in navigation and other trades.All I learned was that there were ports called Nombre de Dios,Belawan,Trincomalee,that there were oceans where flying fish skimmed the waves,that the best beef steaks were to be had in Buenos Aires and that a Captains word was law.
Through him I began to take a greater interest in ships and the men who sailed on them,Granddad Hengler was an old salt and had worked for Cunard and the White Star.He'd been at sea through the Great War and gave little glimpses of what life had been like then.Uncle Charlie was still at sea,he was a cook and when he came home he would light up the street with his laughter and tickle our palates with his home made Yankee doughnuts,just the sight of him was advert enough for the M.N.,always tanned ,with a gleaming set of teeth and a roguish twinkle in his eye,he was every inch a Jolly Jack.
In Garston you would the the seamen going to the pubs ,with their pockets full of tin,wearing yankee denims that were sea blue,T shirts , tartan shirts and open, suntanned faces.They stood out from the pasty faced locals and I couldn't wait to be like them.But you had to 16 before you could apply to go to the training school and that was a little way off yet.

I had to get on with the jobs I already had,I enjoyed both of them,the one at Appletons was the best because I was always out on the road ,as long as I got my deliveries done Ronnie left me pretty much to do what I wanted.
There was the odd time or two when I wondered if I was in the right job though...................like the time he asked me to deliver a dustbin to Speke.
The bin filled the whole of my basket if it was stood upright,the problem was ,you could not see where you were going,always essential if you are on the road.He laid it across the basket,this enabled me to see but gave me limited use of the handle bars for steering.He decided that the latter way was the only way I was going to manage,and so he made it fast to the carrier and helped me out into the street, where I mounted and set off on my journey.It was like learning to ride all over again,the steering was so limited and if I moved the 'bars too much they would bounce off the other side of the bin and cause me to veer wildly.And all this was while I was still outside the shop!
I got out in to St Marys Road and headed downhill,the handle bars were rattling like hell and I couldn't control the steering..................I left the road,mounted the pavement and shot through Blackledges doorway at full speed ,hitting the cake counter and sending the staff into a panicked frenzy.I picked up my bike,with a dented bin and walked the ****ed thing to Speke.
The other time I had second thoughts was on a very cold winters day( I have already related this tale in my first postings)I had to do 2 deliveries to a Nursing Home in Grassendale,both trips would be with a fully laden carrier,quite weighty.The wind was blowing in the direction of Garston,from Grassendale!I was standing on those pedals almost the whole way there,the cold was making my teeth chatter,my hands were frozen and my legs were aching with the strain.When I got there ,dinner was being prepared,I got my load off and flew back to the shop with a following wind giving fillip to my efforts.The second load was even heavier than the the first,and the wind was still as biting,I arrived,almost blue with the cold,the Kitchen door was open and I could smell the hot food,aromas of steak and kidney puddings and boiled veg assailed my poor frozen nostrils.The cook seeing the hunger written acros my face,asked if I was hungry.My heart leapt as my head nodded yes,she disappeared in to the kitchen and returned"Ere yar lad " she said,handing me a solitary spring onion.
But ,happily, those were the only times that I questioned my job.

Meantime,Frank and Vera were settling in nicely in the railway cottage,there was still a lot to do in the garden and I loved having a go when I could ,not having a garden of our own.
Sundays were still spent visiting the relatives,I quite looked forward to it,as well as dinner at Grandmas,there was tea at Uncle Bills,he was a great story teller and a gadget man.He was always finding something that you did'nt know you could'nt live without ,and sometimes,if I was lucky,he would take me with him on one his trips in his BRS wagon.Sarah,his wife would always bake me a jam turnover,knowing that it was my favourite.Another aunty I used to call in and see on a Sunday,my uncle Gerrys' wife,Lily, always had a Jam turnover freshly baked for me,I had it for elevens's.It was a good job that I was so active,they'd have had me fat as barrel between them.

The summer of '56 saw the Speke Airshow,to us at the Tennies ,it was rather special for a lot of the boys there were model plane enthusiasts and this was a great chance to see the real thing.There were to be planes from all over the world,stunt planes,war planes,veteran planes and jet planes.This year though,they had someone special coming,a Belgian called Leon Valentin.
We had seen him at the cinema in the Pathe News,this man could fly......without a plane! He would go up in a plane and jump out wearing balsa wood wings.We had seen him do the stunt ,gliding gracefully down through the sky,it looked fantastic in film,and now we would see it for real.
It was a beautiful sunny day,a group of us lay on the grass at the edge of the airfield,listening to the commentary coming over the tannoy,the mans voice sounded just like Kenneth Wostenholmes,that beautifully clipped, clearly enunciated english that we were so familiar with.There was a lot going on and it was some time before the "Birdman" made his appearance.The first we knew that the event was beginning,was when the commentator drew our attention to a Dakota aircraft rising up in to the sky,that was the plane carrying Leon Valentin.The plane reached the required height,we could see the door in the fuselage open,and then a colourful figure appeared in the doorway.The man was going to fly.....now!
He launched himself into the air,the wings appeared to be funny,they were above his head.........................he was plummeting to earth and the commentators voice was strangulated with shock and grief.To us ,on the ground,it was a falling shape in the distance,there was no emotion involved.we were too far removed from it.The poor man landed in Hunts Cross,when he was found,most of his balsa wood wings had disappeared,rumour had it that local kids had snatched them as souveneirs.
I still find it hard to look at sky divers without thinking of that far off summers day.

[Ged]

Marmilise ? Marmalise ?

How do you spell it, doesn't seem to be in the dictionary yet it was a word me mam used to say she'd 'Marmilise me if I didn't eat all my tea up' etc etc - it was used in other forms too to coax me to do things I didn't want to - like go to bed or get in from playing footy in the square.

[shytalk]

I was at that airshow Brian, I remember the picture in the next days echo just showing his watch which had stopped when he hit.

[brian daley]

All too soon the summer holidays came to an end and it was time for my last year at school.
When I returned to Heath Road, I was tickled pink to find that they had put me in the top form,4a.Not that I deserved it,I was an academic duffer,could'nt do maths to save my life,could spell physics,but had absolutely no understanding of them.And science,forget it,our science master,Mr Hamilton,later became leader of Liverpool City Council.He came from a very old and distinguished family,but he failed with me.Sad to say,the only subjects that I shone in were History,Geography and English Lit.There were not many jobs on offer in Garston for anyone who specialised in those subjects.
Settling in with my new classmates was not too difficult,they knew of me and treated me with an easy caution,when they knew me a bit better,things improved.I missed my old gang and had to make new friends,one boy I became friendly with was called Ernie,he lived in the terraced houses just past Blackwells.He was an easy going fellow and we spent some time together,we even went to night school.He was a much smarter dresser than me,but he was'nt condescending,we found we enjoyed most of the same things and we even managed to get girlfriends who were mates.
They came from Allerton,college girls,they only ever wore their uniforms and we never got to taking them out at night.We met them at the 86 bus by the church at the other side of Mather Avenue,they were geting off the bus we were supposed to be getting on.We had seen them a few times and this time we took the chance to talk to them.I was amazed when they chatted back,we didn't bother getting on that bus,but walked awhile with them.Every night after that we chatted when we could and then hurried off,Ernie to home and me to Appletons.I had my first proper kiss with Brenda,I can remember wondering how it was done.Did you keep your lips closed or did you ....I can remember our noses bumping and our teeth clashing.As a great first kiss it rated zero.I can recall the conversation Ernie and I had on the bus afterwards,it was all about the proper technique for snogging.We dallied with the girls until the dark nights came along and then they were met at the bus stop by one of their mothers.We found out later that they were only thirteen!
Christmas that year was one of the first that we spent at home,we made a lightening visit to Walton and returned to Garston for a proper Christmas at home.Mum did a goose and a leg of pork and all the trimmings that went with
it,we had christmas pud with custard to follow and,as a treat were given a glass of port.After the dishes were cleared away,we watched t.v.,this was the beginning of the modern christmas.
Mum had bought me a huge artists cartridge pad for my main present and a whole load of pencils.I was very much into art at that time.I used to spend hours down at the Pier Head ,trying to sketch the waterfront.I would get so absorbed in what I was doing that I never noticed how many people stopped to look at what I was sketching.Sometimes they would stop and talk,in fact I met the most beautiful young lady there who got chatting to me,I was smitten the moment she started to speak.She was from Cheshire and had come over on the ferry,I cannot remember too much of what we spoke about,only that I wanted that moment to last forever.Alas ,her father came for her and I never got to know her name.
I loved that landing stage,this was in the days when there were ferries to New Brighton ,Wallasey,Secombe and Birkenhead.There was such a hustle and bustle about the place.The ferry boats themselves were like bewhiskered walruses,huffing and puffing across the river,there would be three alongside ,three in the river and three on the other side.The whole waterfront was alive with ships,whistles and steam horns blowing,a forest of masts in the docks ,the sound of jack hammers and rivetting guns in the shipyards across the river, all adding to that marine symphony that provided the sound track of that wonderful ,dirty old river.
As I walked around the streets across the Strand I would look up at the shipping offices,their walls arrayed with the names of the places their ships were bound,Pappayanni's,Blue Funnel,Pacific Steam Navigation,and many ,many more ,What boy could not be curious about the places named,Pago Pago,where was that?Sumatra,Chile and far off Hong Kong.Mr Pomfrey had lit a fire within me and I wanted to go off and find these places for myself.

I was made deputy head boy of the school,only because they did'nt know what else to do with me.The head boy was the total opposite of me,an all round sportsman,iron jawed,tall and resolute,I felt tired just looking at him.I was a prefect too,totally useless,but the badges mattered,they gave you a certain cachet.I spent very little time in class in my last term,the teachers used me as a kind of gofer.Any boys that had to be taken home or to the doctors ,yours truly was the man for the job,I was'nt unhappy to do it ,in fact I liked it,after all those years of swotting, this was the business.
When the schools inspector came to give the leavers career advice,he offered to help me get a job in journalism.When I told Dad ,he scoffed at the idea,he still expected me to work with him.
I was determined to be independent of him and started to look around for any kind of a job that was not factory work.
Ernie and I had become engaged in finding some place that suited our talents and to that end,we would scour the jobs adverts in the Echo,although it was the period of full employment,for a Garston lad,that usually meant the Bottle works,the Bobbin Works,The Tannery,the gasworks or one of the factories in Speke.None of which appealed to yours truly.
Mum spotted an advert for a new butchers shop that was opening in Spring,Grandma knew the owner of this chain,W.E .Kearns,she helped me compose a letter.It was weeks before I got a reply and Dad was growling that I should'nt be bothered trying to get a job anywhere when he could get me a job at the ROF.
Meanwhile,I'd got into the pattern of going to Ernies after we had been to night school,he would make a bit of supper and we'd have a chat about this and,I'd noticed his Mum sitting in the front room,sitting at a table upon which there was a small board game,or so I thought.I asked Ernie what she was doing,"Oh she's talking to Dad",I must have looked puzzled,because his Dad was dead."Er,how d'you mean?"I asked."She's got a ouija board and she talks to him every night" he replied ,as if it was the most natural thing in the world."Come on in ,I'll get her to introduce you to him".So in to the parlour we went,Mrs Hesketh looked up and said "Ernies brought someone to meet you".she said to the ceiling. Now I was having a job to keep a straight face,I thought they were joking.The little glass she had her finger on started zipping around the letters,so fast that I could'nt keep track,she said "He says Hello"My face must have been a picture,I must have shown my disbelief."Don't be frightened Brian (I was'nt),he can see the future,ask him anything." Well, I wasn't going to ask the obvious,like where will I work when I leave school(just weeks away now),so I asked him who I would be working with. Back came the reply "You will work with a B.K,a B.M. and an S.L,there will be others too" Seeing as how I had'nt got a job yet,that could have meant anything.
Next day I got a reply from W.E Kearns,they wanted me to go for an interview
at their head office in Old Swan.It was very intimidating ,my first interview for for a proper job.Mr Kearns was a very kindly man,cut from the same cloth as Mr Simpson,first world war veteran,churchgoing and very much the business man.They had a chain of shops and their Garston shop would be their biggest,it would have 12 employees.I got the job and would start during the Easter holiday.I could'nt believe it,I would soon be starting a whole new life...

[brian daley]

I never did any schoolwork in those last few weeks,I was given estimated marks for my end of term report.................................I ended up with the fourth highest results in the class,which was the top form.Not that it was going to do me any good though,I was going to be a butcher boy!
I'd done 5 years at Heath Road and it was quite a wrench to leave.It was Easter and my birthday fell in the last couple of days of the school break,so I assumed that now I was 15,I could start work.Wrong assumption!
I turned up at the new shop to start work the day I turned 15,I had no proper paperwork,I thought the school would send it all on when the holiday was over and the shop manager,Mr Lewis,accepted that that would be the case and put me to work straight away.
The shop was'nt due to open for another fortnight,the floors were still being laid in the main sales area so most of my work consisted of cleaning up after the builders,decorators and carpenters.I still went to Appletons in that first week,I did a couple of deliveries and would officially leave on the Saturday,the butchers not being open for business allowed me to leave Ronnie and the girls with good grace.Come Saturday evening,Ronnie closed the shop door as usual and the girls,instead of rushing for their coats,formed a little circle about me and Ronnie made said a few words about my going out into the real world,and how happy he had been with my time at the shop.
I was choked,old Mary then stepped forward and gave me a beautiful leather wallet,"To put your proper wages in,and with a little bit to start you off with"
As each of them kissed me goodbye I was filled with sadness to be leaving,I was only going 300 yards down the road,but I was taking my first great step into manhood.I walked home,for the first time in 18 months,no more order bike.Taking the wallet out of my pocket,I undid the fastener and saw that there were three pounds in it,with a little note wishing me all the best signed by all of them.That was a huge amount of money,more than two weeks wages at the butchers shop.Mum had to buy my blue and white striped apron
so the money helped out there,Kearns provided the white coats.
Work started at 7.00a.m.,with an hours break for lunch at 1.00p.m.and then you worked from 2.00p.m. until closing time at 6.00p.m.,you had to clean up then which saw you going home at about 6.30. Wednesdays was half day closing and you worked all day Saturday.
The floor layers were still working when I turned up for work on the Monday,they were from Milan and spoke very little english ,but they were good for a laugh and proceeded to teach me to curse in Italian,some of which I have never forgotten.The regular staff who would be working there started to turn up on different days that week,the first two,Brian Kibby and Betty Melia..(Those initials,how did Ernies Mum guess?)came from another of the companys' shop elsewhere in Liverpool.We were all put to scrubbing and polishing,the floor was finished the counters fitted,the fridges stocked with meat,more staff arrived and by Friday the bosses,the Brothers Kearns,arrived to make the final preparations for Sarurdays opening.We now had a staff of twelve and I was the youngest,my job was to do whatever anyone told me to do,carry,clean and polish.When old W.E.,as the elder Mr Kearns was known,found out that I was local,he asked me if I knew where the local timber yard was,I answered in the affirmative and he despatched to fetch a sack of clean sawdust.The timber yard was under the bridge,down by the tanyard,a hell of a walk with a hundred weight bag of sawdust on your back,but that was a journey that I would be making every week for the next 18 months.It was dreadful,I had a sack that was as big as me and I had to fill it to the brim,knot it and then tote it on my back.The sack was of a loose weave and the particles of sawdust would work their way down between my collar and my neck ,I would be chafed raw by the time I got to the shop.
I used to be given little homily's by W.E., or Mr Lewis, about how much harder it was when they were young,like a sucker ,I believed them.It was'nt worth complaining,your parents had been forever telling you how bad it had been for them.This was how you got to being grown up,toting big bags of sawdust and scrubbing wooden blocks until they looked bleached.
My leaving school without the proper paperwork caught up with me in the second week at Kearns,the school contacted me and told me that I was'nt due to leave until the summer break,I explained that I had started work and that it would jeopardised my chances if I had to go back to school,old Mr Simpson said that I could never get anything right ,but he did the paperwork and made things O.K.


It was'nt all doom and gloom at work though,very far from it.The food was great! Every day I was allowed to to pick out chops,steaks, kidneys and liver and take them to the kitchen upstairs where I would put them under the grille for the staff lunch,there I would cook them until they just right,the smell of all that sizzling meat would permeate the whole shop so that appetites were sharpened,there was a near stampede for the messroom as soon as the front door was bolted .I always made sure that I never went short,indeed ,I used to dip bread into the juices as I was cooking it ,oooooooooooooh bliss,but I never put weight on,they worked me to blooming hard for that to happen.
Being a kid,it was like being invisible , five ladies worked there now,at dinner time I would sit in the corner and get stuck into my food,the older lads would go out and tinker with their motorbikes ,or play cards,neither of which appealed to me ,so I would sit and read a paper and overhear the womens gossip.They were salty as hell,talking about their "fellers" and what they got up to,I think they knew I was listening because I would blush crimson whenever I heard anything outrageous.This was the days before tights and they would adjust their suspenders while I sat there.....phew.I think I saw more of them than their "fellers"did,but I was only the kid so what did it matter.But it did,to me.I didn't have a girlfriend but there wasn't anything I did'nt know about suspenders.
Mr Lewis was a stickler for discipline,he did'nt allow talking in the cutting room,every now and then he would put his head around the opening from the sales area and tell me to shut up."any more and it's either you go or I go " he would say,leaving me a very puzzled boy,why would he want to leave because I was a chatterbox?
I was surprised at how quickly the people came and went from that shop in those first few months,gradually a team began to form,Mr Lewis was the manager,he was an ex segeant major,and looked it,with severe short back and side and cheeks shaved to a high gloss,there was John Kearney,he had been in intelligence during the Italian campaign and could speak fluent Italian,not very useful in a Garston butchers,but came in handy in in the war.
Then there was Joey,cocky ex National serviceman,did his time in Cyprus and was full of tales about EOKA,there was Ted,nobody liked Ted,he was spooky,quietly spoken,near middle aged,the women said they always said that
he looked as though he was undressing them,I never felt comfortable with him either,could have been an axe murderer!After Ted came Mick,he was a body builder,fit as a flea,built like Garth but was a great bloke,taught me the different cutting methods and and how to pull the girls(never worked );below Mick was Bernie,he was just a bit older than me but his social life was a lot wider than mine,more of which anon,and after Bernie came Harry and me.
Harry came from a new estate on the edge of Gateacre,he looked a lot like Marty Wilde and he ,like Bernie,loved rhythm and blues.Long before I'd heard it called one,Harry used to play the air guitar,moving his hips like Elvis,he would go off on a riff,old Sid Lewis would go beserk."Corser!!" he would yell,"Any more of that racket and yer down the road!!"
Bernie would also play the air guitar....silently.This then was the male crew,the females consisted of two Marys,Betty(she was Jimmy Melias sister)
there were three other ladies whose names I have forgotten,but whose faces remain in my memory,they were pretty,but older than me,they never knew how I felt when they would tickle my chin or kiss my cheeks,I loved them to death but was mute with shyness.


I still kept in touch with Ronnie and his wife Mary,little Ronnie was now a toddler and I would often babysit for them and,as a reward, Ronnie would either take me to his favourite pub ,the Queens, and buy me cider and guinness,or take me to see a science fiction movie,he loved them.
That autumn they told me that they were going to have another baby and were very excited about what the child would be,Ronnie fancied having a daughter.They were a lovely couple and life looked very rosy indeed.

Bernie asked if I would like to go to a dance at his youth club,it was in Speke,in a catholic church hall off Central Avenue.There would be plenty of girls there! Mum had just bought me an outfit that was very hollywood,a pastel green jacket with patch pockets with pale green gaberdine trousers,a gold flecked shirt and crepe soled shoes.I felt like a killer!
When I got there,there were girls, one of them looked like a film star,her name was Helen and she was at college.Her hair was jet black and hung in perfect
bangs with a neat fringe,crimson lips beneath the deepest blue eyes.
Even though I couldn't dance ,I plucked up courage and asked her to the floor while the band played "Witchcraft"I smooched around the floor ,feeling electric with this dream in my arms.Luckily,the band only knew about three tunes,Witchcraft being their favourite,so the dance seemed to last forever.
She turned out to be one of Bernies social circle so we all sat together.I couldn't imagine a girl like that wanting to know someone like me ,but she was kind and included me in her conversation.The night passed in a whirl and pretty soon it was coats on time and off for home.I just seemed to stay with Helen....all the the way to her house.I wanted to hold her hand but was too shy to attempt it,I wanted to tell her that I thought she was great,but was too tongue tied.Instead we talked of her college work,she was doing Greek mythology,which I liked and the more we talked the less chance there was of asking for a date.I was stupid,I had three sisters,but knew naff all about girls.I left her,standing at her gate saying see you next week,and walked hopelessly to the bus stop.

I thought I was ugly,with my scrawny neck,jug ears,big adams apple and spots,how could a girl like me?I used to envy the lads at work when they spoke of their weekend conquests,all talk about first and second base was over my head,I was'nt even on the field!
It's a good job I had my relatives,helping Frank and Vera with their garden and going out with Uncle Bill for wagon rides helped keep me anchored.
The railway cottage and garden was becoming idyllic,isolated,acres of garden behind a long,long,wall,away from the prying eyes of nosey neighbours,no busy roads,it was a lovely place to bring up kids.Vera took a part time job to supplement the household bills,and little by little, their house became a home .Vera could bake pies as good as my mothers ,with all the rhubarb that Frank had harvested she was baking on a production line basis,that sugar dusted, short crust pastry would just melt in your mouth.I was so glad they lived so near.
One Sunday I went to Grandmas and met a young lady who captured my heart,she was red haired,green eyed,and loved me on sight!When she put her paws on my shoulders and licked my face I was hers.Every Sunday I would take her to Stanley Park and we would spend hours running and chasing through the trees over the bridge,round the palmhouse and on the fields.I had been frightened by a dog when I was very young but Rusty,for that was she,removed any fear that may have been left.We'd get back to Grandmas ,just in time for dinner and then I would leave her for another week.Sadly for Grandma,Rusty needed a home where she would get regular exercise,happily for Rusty,Uncle Bill took her to his house,his daughters,there would be six of them eventually,loved her .And that was the reason I made sure that I visited them every Sunday,I too missed Rusty.When I walked around the corner of the top of their road ,Rustys' head would shoot up and she would come bounding toward me.There is nothing quite like a dogs devotion and I enjoyed Rustys' for many a year.
One Sunday when I was at uncle Bills,he engaged me in a conversation in which he asked me what my favourite things were,I thought it was a bit unusual and wondered were it was leading to.He stopped his questioning and then clicked something and the next thing I knew was that he was asking the same questions that he had just asked me,only his lips were,nt moving and I did'nt recognise who was giving the answers.The girls were looking at me ,giggling for they knew what was going on,Billy had just used his newest gadget.....a tape recorder!!! I was amazed,that strange voice was mine. I had to have one,they were enormous great reel to reel things but I could see all kinds of possibilities.It would cost me a shilling a week for 4 years,I didn't have to think about it,the following Sunday I picked up my Phillips reel to reel and started a whole new career,or so I thought.But although I never became an ace reporter,or record producer I did have fun........................

[brian daley]

That tape recorder was the size of an airline flight bag,mains powered ,it required a 3 pin socket to operate,but it was as modern as you could get then.
When I took it home,Mum thought I was wasting my money on such an expensive bit of kit,Dad looked bemused,and my sisters could'nt wait to see how it worked.We spent hours recording them, singing ditties and pieces of nursery rhymes,no could believe that they "sounded like that".Later,the lads in the square had me around to some of their houses to let their folks see the wonder of the modern age.At one of the houses,the mother had her friend in for a cup of tea and a gossip, and Norman,her son,got me to stick the microphone under the table to record the gossip.We let it record for about 5 minutes and then,when there was a break in their chatter,I played it back at full volume. They were astounded,thinking that someone else was in the room having a jangle.Me and Norman were in fits of laughter under the table,they were baffled as to what was going on, and embarassed that such juicy gossip was now on tape. I erased it and showed them how it worked.

Bernie told me that his mate ,Ricky,had a tape recorder that he had bought when he was in the States,he was what we called a "Cunard Yank".He was a steward with Cunard Line and was home that week,Bernie asked if I would like to bring my machine to Rickys',he had all the latest records from New York and would, most probably let me record some of them.This was a time when American music ruled the world,Elvis,Gene Vincent,The Everleys',Chuck Berry,Buddy Holly and all those other "rebels" were making the kind of music we kids raved about,the only trouble was we never got to hearing the records until months after they had been released in the States.Over here we had the Embassy label, which was sold in Woolworths, and they were all
covers done by unknowns .But Ricky had boxfuls of the real things. So ,yes,I wanted to meet Ricky.
Come Friday night,Bernie took me around to meet Ricky,he was a real nice bloke,dressed in american clothes,he looked the business.He let us look through the record collection,they were all long players and e.p.'s.The first I had seen in real life,we had 78's,big brittle discs that would scratch easily,and crack with the slightest pressure.This was heaven,and the music was great.
While we were there,Ricky made us a bit of supper,it was out of a can and the can had been bought in a deli in New York.That was the first time I had tasted ravioli,I was knocked out by it ,it was like eating food from another planet.This was another reason for me to go to sea,there was food out there that was waiting to be eaten....................by me!
We played around with our tape recorders,and I taped a load of his records,we also managed to create a great sound of our own;Bernie had a halfway decent voice ,so we got him to sing "Wake Up Little Susie" an Everley Brothers hit.We then played it back and got him to sing along with it,we double tracked it ,treble tracked it and ,by the time we had finished,it sounded like something by Les Paul and Mary Ford,fantastic!
There used to be a dance in the school hall in Central Avenue,when Ricky was home he would take his american discs along and the place would be packed.I went along once or twice,I was still a lousy dancer,unlike our Jess,she was a real "dancing queen".She tried to show me the basics but she never had much success.
She was a good singer too!This was a time that skiffle was at its peak,Lonnie Donegan,Nancy Whiskey and Chas McDevitt were amongst the top singers and players then and our Jess could sing just like Nancy Whiskey.
Freight Train was her favourite song and she had me tape that a time or two so that she could get it just right. She had a friend who lived in Speke,Josie Murphy,Josies' Dad,Terry ,had an electric guitar which he was expert at playing.He had been on the Carol Levis Show some years ago and now did a bit of backing for singers in pubs and clubs.Jess got me to go down to Josies' with her and record she and Terry doing "Freight Train" and one or two other numbers.They were brilliant,I'm sorry that I never kept them,but you don't realise that the future isn't endless when you are that age.
Josie had a pretty young sister,I think her name was Anne,and Josie and Jess thought it would be nice if I asked Anne out on a date,(Sisters can be a pain sometimes),so I asked Anne if she would like to go out."Where?" she asked.
My mind went blank,Where? I did'nt know."Paul Anka is coming to the Empire" our Jess said,"You'd like that ,would'nt you?" said Josie to Anne. Anne nodded silently,my first date,arranged entirely by the elder sisters of both parties.
On the bus home from the Murphys',Jess went through a list of do's and dont's".You have to buy her a box of chocolates,you don't get kissing her face off,you have to buy the cigarettes,you don't let her pay the busfares,you have to buy the drinks or ice cream ,you don't get fresh on the way home."
I don't know what Josie told her kid sister,but that night was endured ,not enjoyed,I was not really able to relax and enjoy the show lest my hands should accidently touch something they should'nt.
I think Anne was just as relieved as I was when it was all over.

My Dad asked me to go out with him one Saturday night,he had never done such a thing before,what was going on?........The tape recorder!
One of his cousins sons was getting married and Dad,and some of his brothers were invited to the reception,Dad thought it would liven things up if I took my machine along;this was in the days before Disco's.
So there I am in the Co op hall in Walton,at the front with my machine plugged in and a great big queue lined up to sing into the mike.They would sing their song and I had to rewind the tape and play it back again,with them saying"Is that Me?" every time!!People loved it,and I got quietly p====d.Nearly everyone I recorded gave me a drink.
Dad and his brothers got palatic and we had to stay at his cousins in Arnot Street,four of us in one bed,nightmare,between the snoring and the big,beery farts there was not much time for sleep.
I used that old tape machine so much that the motor burnt out within a couple of months.The shop replaced it with a little Italian machine,an Elpico Geloso,it was a cracker,I used that everywhere,making up my own radio shows,Kenny Everett ,he had nothing on BeeDee, I was years ahead of him.But mine was a fantasy existence.

At work,Mr Lewis started to let me do a bit of butchering,I was not let loose with a boning knife,I was taught to use a cleaver and small chopper.We had a lot of frozen meat and this had to be butchered in its' frozen state,this meant using the big cleaver,rather like an executioners axe.You needed a good eye and a steady hand to use that .One of you had to hold the frozen carcass whilst the other,usually a senior hand ,swung the cleaver.This was held over their head and swung in a mighty arc so that it cut clear through the carcass in with one good blow.
Joey had been on the beer one Friday night and was cutting some mutton carcasses, with Bernie holding them,he was a little bleary eyed and Bernie was just a little wary of the proceedings.Down came the cleaver,the carcass was neatly sliced,as was Bernies apron,white coat and shirt,miraculously, Bernies skin was unmarked........I think his underpants were though!

Mum and Dad were going on holiday with Betty and Chris;Jess and I were going to be trusted to have the house to ourselves!!
Unfortunately,I did'nt get to enjoy half as much as I could have done..all because of a sheeps head.
I was now allowed to skin sheeps heads and to do this I had to use a pretty lethal , long thin bladed knife,it was so sharp that it sliced easily,parting the skin from the skull,flicking the eyes from the sockets,it took just a few minutes.I was working my way through as sackful of them the Saturday that the family went on holiday,my knife was a blur,Mr Lewis was on holiday and was being relieved by one of the Kearns brothers,the black sheep of the family ,Jack.Mr Lewis would never have let me near a boning knife,but Jack was'nt so fussy,"Get stuck In on them 'eads' lad" he said passing me the knife.
I jumped at the chance,so there I was out in the shop, where all and sundry could see me,applying my skills to those old sheeps heads.I was nearly finished skinning the second one when it skidded off the butchers block.I managed to catch it before it hit the floor,I finished it and was reaching for another one when I felt something squidgy in my shoe.It was my sock,and it was soaked in blood,....mine!
When I caught hold of the head I did it with both hands,but I still had hold of the knife.The blade was so sharp that it had stabbed right through my knee without my realising it.I called John Kearney over and he looked at the cut and went for the medicine box,"You're gonna need a plaster on that Brian"he said as he took out a bottle of iodine.He had rolled up my trouser leg and I could see the hole ,gaping like an open mouth,Mr Kearns came over to have a look just as John was about to pour the iodine into the cut.He slapped Johns hand away from the cut,shouting "You'll bloody kill him with that,e's cut a vein" They put a tourniquet on and despatched me to hospital.It was a Saturday and there was only a sister on duty,she stitched me up and sent me back to work,when Jack Kearns saw me limp in the shop, he told me to get off home and put my feet up.
Come Monday morning,my knee was swollen to twice its' size,Jess had to go to work and so I limped to the hospital.The nurse took the dressing off and called a doctor,the cut was badly infected and I had to take time off work.I had to go and get fresh dressings everyday,which meant walking a hell of a way,people used to call me Chester,after a character in a T.V.western. I was off work for the whole of Mums holiday and never was able to do what teenagers would do in those circumstances.But there was a side benefit,when I got my first weeks sick pay,it was for twice the amount that I was earning.I did'nt tell Mum ,I gave her the usual amount of housekeeping and bought myself a Brownie camera with the extra money.


We had a neighbour who had a sailor for a husband,she was tall ,blonde,good looking and a terrible tease,to me that is.I was fifteen and a bit and exploding with testosterone,and she knew it.She was great friends with my Mum and often came along the landing for a chat.They would spend hours leaning on the balcony talking about this and that,whenever I had to get past them A. would say "I'm gonna 'ave 'im first Jessie",smiling wickedly as she said it,I would limp away,blushing madly.Mum chuckling at A.s joke.
One morning the gas went and Mum asked me to go along to A.s to see if she could give us a shilling for two sixpences.It was only 2 doors away and so I sped off. Our front doors had little glass panels in them so that they let light in and they were rippled so that they blurred the vision, but you could recognise someone through them.I knocked the door,it was 8.00 in the morning,her face peered through the glass and she opened the door..........she was wearing black lace underwear!!!!!!!!! I must have exploded my trousers,she gave a little shriek"Ooooh,I thought you were my feller,Brian " she giggled. I croaked "Ave you got a shilling for 2..............."
"What are you blushing for" Mum asked when I got back with the shilling.
On another occasion ,Mum told me to take a book to A.,she said she had forgotten to give it to her earlier and told her she would send me with it later on,so off I went,book in hand.The door was slightly ajar when I got there,"Anyone there " I cried,"I'm in the bedroom Brian,come in a minute",I went in ,expecting her to be making the bed or something,she was on the bed..............wearing a little pink baby doll nightie,see through!!!! I dropped the book and fled.
She haunted my fevered nights,I used to wake up like a hollow eyed wreck and Mum must have known the effect it was having on me ,she did the laundry!
So there I was ,the owner of a new Brownie,Jess wanted me to take some pin up shots for her boyfriend Graham,he was in the Army,based up in Westmoreland,she wanted him to see what he was missing.
We went over the Ironbridge to take the pictures,it was a week day and there were no kids about ,Jess wore her one piece bathing costume and I took half a reel of film of her.On the way back home,we bumped into A.,she asked what we had been doing and Jess told her that I had just done some pin up pictures for Graham."OOh " she said,"You can take some of me for my Feller" We all went up to our landing and,as I turned to go to our house,she got hold of my arm and said "You come with me while I get changed". Jess just smiled and shook her head bemusedly.I was like a lamb to the slaughter.
She went off to her bedroom to get her bathing costume,and then brought it into the living room,where she proceeded to strip off.I turned to face away from her,"Don't you want to see what I look like?",of course I bloody well did,but she was a married women and her husband and had a reputation as a hard man.I just gulped "Errm,its o.k" After much teasing ,she was ready for the camera and we decided to go down to the green to take the pictures. I left the flat just ahead of her ,and walked...... slapbang into her husband coming up the stairs ,with his seabag on his shoulders.She was standing behind me with her swimsuit on...........................now what conclusion would you draw if you were in his shoes?All I know was that he did'nt hit me ,he hit her instead.We saw her later ,with a black eye and a look on her face like the cat that had stolen the cream,it must have turned him on.

Jack Kearns was at our shop for longer than 2 weeks,I can't remember why, but we soon found out why he was known as the black sheep.Whereas his brothers were churchgoing and courteous,he was rude and uncouth,lazy and bad mannered.Pretty soon the standards started to slip and the shop developed a foul smell,he did'nt care,he let the lads home early and the cleaning went to pot.The older hands tried their best ,but he had stopped having the waste products van call and our collection of scraps started to hum.His coarseness showed one Saturday afternoon when an Encyclopaedia Britannica salesman made the mistake of calling in to see if he could get an appointment (He must have been desparate),Jack made an entertainment out of him,treating him sarcastically,he thought he was being hilarious,but we were just embarassed for the poor guy.Why did he have to walk into the lions den? Jack had hold of one of the volumes,his hands greasy and bloody,"Look at this" he was saying,"It's ****,And you *******s want to charge how much?" The man was visibly distressed and just wanted to leave,Jack made sure he did by thowing the book into the road,where it was run over by a corporation bus.I felt so sorry for that man,but it taught me a lesson,never let yourself be a victim.
Jack left not long after that and the sergeant major returned ,pretty soon the shop was back to normal.
Harry and I,as juniors ,found that we had a lot in common,we liked the same music,saw the same films and were always on the look out for the main chance with girls.
On our afternoons off we would go back to our house,I'd do a bit of lunch and we would listen to my tapes and practise our dancing, I was going to crack this if it killed me,we would take turns at being the girl.
We neither of us were very good ,but we tried.Apart from the school hops,we had'nt been to a proper dance,we were far from ready.
As part of my job,I had to deliver meat to two places everyday,I loved doing it because it got me out of the shop for a couple of hours ,and I used to get a sandwich and a cup of tea when I got there,My first call was to the fire station at Speke Rd,the cook was a nice old Irish lady,who was called Scarlet by the firemen ,because her surname was O'hara.The men used to treat me very well,I was called Butch,for obvious reasons,I forget most of their names,but I remember them as people.They were kind ,funny,and never said a bad word ,Scarlet loved them and called them"her boys".
That first year they invited me to their Christmas Ball,it was to be held in the Co op Hall in Walton Road,there would be a meal and a proper band because this was the City Fire Services annual do!They were paying for my ticket and I would be sitting at their table.I was chuffed.
I can still remember that star spangled night,the glitter balls sparkling ,the ladies looking so pretty in their posh frocks,and the music calling the dancers to the floor.My feet were tapping away as I sat and watched dance after dance,Scotty,one of the older men,got his daughter to get me up for a turn around the floor,I nearly ruined her feet, the amount of times that I stubbed her toes,but she persisted and stayed the course.The next dance was a Paul Jones,this made me a bit more confident and I relaxed to the music.I could dance!!.................or so I thoght.

[Ged]

Fantastic as ever Brian. One of the best autobiogs i've ever read.

[brian daley]

So,thinking we could dance,Harry and I decided to go for broke,we were going to go to the Thursday night dance at the Wilson Hall,that was the night they played non stop rock and roll.Harry and I had got ourselves crew cuts,I'd also got myself a royal blue zipper jacket,with white piping on the collar and pockets,Mum bought the shirt.It was the Elvis look we were after.
About that crew cut,Dad was dead against anything that looked "common",he would rail against Teddy boys and rock and roll.He told me if I had any notion of getting drainpipes or drape jackets,I'd better forget it.He failed to mention crew cuts.Harry and I had ours cut in the village during our lunch break,prior to that ,my hair was brylcreemed into a huge wave.When I sat down to tea that night,Mum nearly freaked,"Yer Dad 'll kill yer" she wailed,"All that luvly 'air ,gone",and so on, and so on ,until at length ,Dad arrived home. He came into the living room to get out of his overalls,looking at the t.v., he noticed me,and did a double take,"What the fr****** hell 'ave you done to yer 'ead" he yelled. "It's all the rage Dad " I replied meekly."Rage My arse" he said and that was the end of the matter.

Harry and me had spent all Wednesday afternoon practising our jive,we were going to pull,big time!
We got there about 8.00p.m.,the music was blaring into the street and the place was full of Teds and girls with swirling skirts , pony tails,beehive hairdos and perms.Yowser!! We studied the talent very carefully,who was going to enjoy my terpsichorean skills?Which beehived beauty would just melt in my arms? There she was,in the middle of the floor,right beneath the glitter ball,her mate looked o.k.,and so nodding to Harry, we went out to split them up.Elvis was belting out Blue Suede Shoes as we in our Dunlop crepe soles took them in our arms.We were on our third twirl when she stopped dead,hands on hips ,she looked at me and shouted "OO the f*** said yew could dance?"
I was dumbfounded,standing there with my mouth agape,too shocked to reply,"F*%+ off " she shouted and stormed away.
I crept away from the floor,feeling about 2 inches tall.Harry came over and told me the girl he was with dumped him too.
It was awhile before we went dancing again.

Shortly before Christmas,I was working in the back room at Kearns when one of the girls from Appletons came in,Sid had let her come through ,she had an awful look on her face.I asked her what was up and,with tears in her eyes,she replied,"Marys' dead","Which Mary?"I asked ."Mary Moore,Ronnies wife". I felt dizzy,I could'nt take in what she was saying, I'd only babysat for them a fortnight ago. Holding my hand,she told me that Mary had gone into labour and there had been complications. She died while giving birth to a son.
Sometimes the world can seem such an unfair place,the last time I saw Mary was when I popped in for a cup of tea after I had been to bank the shop takings,only last week.She was wearing a pretty floral smock and looked so full of life, with that bloom that heavily pregnant women get.
The boy had survived and was going to be called Stephen.
I went up to see Ronnie ,the house was closed up,he was'nt at the shop ,I never saw him for months.The boys had gone to his ,or Marys' sisters.
I was sad that I never got the chance to say goodbye.But I've never forgotten her,there is a little corner of my heart in which the memory of Mary still remains.

Christmas was coming and that goose was getting fat,in fact the geese,the turkeys and chickens too ,were getting very fat.....and it was our job to clean them......uugh!
Kearns had an Xmas club and customers could buy shilling, or sixpenny, stamps every week throughout the year to save up for the christmas fowls.
We had hundreds of customers and they wanted all manner of fowl.In those days it was unusual for a family to buy chickens as regularly as they do now.
We sold about half a dozen on a Saturday and very few during the week,customers liked to keep the giblets then,but wanted them prepared.It was job that we avoided if we could,quite simply ,they stank! When you cut through their backside you get a nasty ,methane type pong,and if you burst the spleen..........yuck. But come Yuletide,all of the lads had to come in on the Sunday before christmas eve and spend all day eviscerating those darned birds.And we did'nt get paid,no such thing as overtime then.The men were given 50 cigarettes and the boys a small tin of Quality Street.
We did get tips off the customers for cleaning their birds though,they were pooled for fairness and Sid shared them out on Christmas Eve.

Mick,the body builder,had got himself a steady girlfriend and wanted to get some transport that he could take her out on,yes,on, not in ,this was 1957 not 67,young men could'nt afford cars yet.He was after a BSA 500,second hand of course, and he was ten quid short of the necessary.I had been given £8 in tips and had a few pound languishing in my Appletons wallet.Mick had a Wearwell sports bike,DeRaillier geared,lightweight frame and in showroom condition.I wafted the money under his nose and went home on my very first bike!!!!
She was a beauty and she took me everywhere.The difference it made to my life was fantastic,she was fast light and good looking.
I used to ride to see my relatives, Liverpool shrank in size. Bernie had a bike and we would often go out just for rides

That second delivery I had to do everyday was to an engineering company in Speke Hall Avenue,the cook there was none other than Ikey Harrris' Mum.I had'nt seen him for a couple of years and she put us back in touch.Like me he was a butchers lad,and,also like me,he had Wednesday afternoon off.So I would sometimes ride down there and we would pass the time, either biking or just hanging out.I did'nt drop Harry,he had other mates and you had to spread yourself about a bit.
When I lived in Lodge Lane,one of the treats we had, was going to the Pavilion Theatre,at the beginning of '58 ,Ikey suggested we go to see the Peaches Paige Show,this was a nude show,and ,being a 15 year old male,I thought it might be good.It was an early evening show and ,apart from Ikey and me,there were a load of asthmatic old men and one young woman, who had two little boys with her.I'd never been to a nude show before and never knew what to expect,there were comic turns ,Joe Baker and Jack Douglas,jugglers,acrobats and light opera singers.The nudity consisted of static tableaux where the girls were artistically posed,Peaches being the centre piece of every display.In one piece ,she sang the aria from Madame Butterfly,Iv'e never seen "One Fine Day" performed since without thinking of those massive mammarys'.The show closed with Peaches freewheeling across the stage on a mens drop handled sports bike.........it looked suspisciously like a Wearwell!!!

Before I finish with 1957 ,there is one item I must relate,on Church Road ,there was a little chip shop that we used to go to of a dinnertime,we would get a big bag of chips to have with our chops,(Oh for those cholesterol free days) I think it was run by May Newby,a small ,jolly fat lady,who,loved a naughty joke.She was organising a coach trip to Blackpool and it was going to be for her customers,Mick and I put our names down and pretty soon she had enough to fill a 28 seater.The lights were still on and we would stop off at a half way house to have a few beers.Saturday night arrives and we are waiting for the coach,standing outside the chippy,we hear the clatter and bang of the coach before we see it.We were going to Blackpool in THAT!! "That" was a pre war Bedford,a poor sad looking thing.We climbed aboard and off we went,wheezing and spluttering up to Queens Drive and the East Lancs. I can't remember where the half way stop was,we did'nt get beyond it,the coach dropped dead in the car park and we spent the night in the pub whilst the driver was banging away with his spanners trying to repair the motor.It was way after closing time before the coach was ready to take us home,I had had far too much to drink and was,I was later told ,acting very obnoxiously.To the point of offering to fight the driver!!I can remember them stopping whilst I called for Hughie.I can't remember much after that.Having to walk home from the village helped to clear my head so ,by the time I got home ,I did'nt look or feel so bad.
On Monday,May told me I'd been offering to fight a few of the fellers aboaerd the coach,she said none of them took me on because she had told them I was a master of the martial arts,me,who was built like a beanpole!

I was coming up to sixteen in '58and was determined that I was going to go to sea.On some half days I would go around the shippng offices to see if I could get a place;my cousin Gerry got a place in the Blue Funnel Training School at Aberdovey,I tried,and failed.I went to the Norwegian shipping office a few times,Mike Quirk had got to sea that way,but I had no joy.You had to be 16. Well there was'nt long to go now.

[lindylou]

enthralling and entertaining stuff as always Brian

[brian daley]

Although I'm only part way through my life,I don't think I will be allowed to carry on much longer.When I get my manhood ,it won't be good for a family website.I led too adventurous a life for it to be fit for all and sundry to look at,even though it was fun for me.Do you have an adults only site?
Just asking,
BrianD

[shytalk]

Brian,
When you get to that stage why not continue it in the SH site. just about anything goes there. Discuss it with Kev, he might just think it will be OK on here. If not no harm done and I am sure he will appreciate your consideration.

[Ged]

You can't do this to us Brian, was it 'A', I wanna know what happened with 'A', come on tell us, did you go back when your whatsits dropped and give her what for..............Ha ha.