Author: Lynn

January 1940

Mon 1

Went to cinema with Auntie Pat, Pat, Pam & Wendy.  Saw Mr. Motto Takes a Vacation, Stanley & Livingstone.  Good.

Tues 2

Mummy took Pat, Pam & myself to see “All the Best”, a review.  2/-  seats, ices and sweets, enjoyed ourselves.  Wendy at Auntie Pat’s.

Wed 3

Went to Auntie Pat’s, helped with curlers.  Torch broke.  Had film developed, jolly good.  Put them in album mummy gave me for Xmas.

Thurs 4

Went to Auntie Pat’s.  Mummy came later, arranged to have a party, we were going to play tennis on Friday, too cold.

Fri  5

Had a bit of a party.  Phoebe came gave me 6d.  Had a nice tea.  Mummy came out without key.  I was at Auntie Pat’s, she came in slipped???

Sat 6

Came back to Alfold, such a night, nearly got on wrong train, held it up, met Janet, went to new billet.  Quite nice, Miss Watson gave me 6 l. Mummy saw us off.

 

When Cynthia was evacuated from London, in September 1939, she and her baby sister Wendy were first billeted at the Rectory in Alfold village.  Her bedroom faced the cemetery, where a large rock supposedly marked the grave of a witch.  A previous occupant of the room, a girl named Mary, had scratched her name on the pane of glass with a diamond ring.  I wonder if it is still there?

I would have to guess mostly what she was saying, as her accent was really broad.

Naturally, I took advantage of the opportunity to get out, although in a little village like that, there was nowhere to go anyway.  I used to meet some of the other girls, and a few of the village boys.  It was all very harmless.  In the cold weather, if there happened to be ice, we’d go sliding around on it.  In the warm weather, we’d just walk and talk, and the boy I liked and sort of paired off with, would walk me home, and give me a shy boyish good-night kiss.

I think my trouble started, when I was invited to a birthday party for Beryl Burst.  A number of us went, and as the Eildons (Newburys??), went to bed fairly early they gave me the key to let myself in.  It was a wonderful party, and none of us got home until about 1 A.M.  Mr. Eildon informed Mr. B. that they had worried over me for hours.  I really don’t know what time they expected me to arrive home from the party.  Anyhow I was given a reprimand, and was told I had to get permission every time I went out, and to be back by 9 o’clock!  What humiliation, after all I had had permission to go to the party.

In my spare time, I wrote some letters, one to a girl friend, and one to the Daily Mirror, which I really hadn’t any intention of mailing.  Anyhow in the girl’s letter, I had mentioned a boy named Red, had kissed Joan, and had now got the measles, and in the other, had asked any lonely soldiers, sailors or airmen, if they wanted a pen pal, to write to me, as I was lonely too.  Mrs. E. must have been looking through my belongings, because one morning her husband asked me to please bring down the two letters I had in my drawer upstairs.  I like a frightened chick, went upstairs and got them and handed them over to him.  Next day, I was called to the headmasters study.  What a catastrophe, apparently it was immoral for the kids to have crushes and kiss boys, and there would probably be an epidemic of measles, (naturally the girl in question, denied kissing the boy), according to my letters the whole school was corrupt.

I omitted the fact that I had still another sister, Pamela, who had been evacuated with her school to Warminster, Wilts.  She wrote quite often, and quite enjoyed herself for a while, Mummy visited her too, and sent us both pocket money regularly every week we were away.  Pamela suddenly decided she was homesick, and wanted to come with me.  We finally arrived at a decision, that she should move in with Mr. and Mrs. B. and Wendy, and that I should be placed in another billet.  Naturally, I was thrilled, at last to be on my own.

We were allowed to go home for the occasional week-end and holidays, as the enemy had still not made an appearance over England.  When we got back, Mr. B. took me to Mrs. Robertson, the billeting officer, who was also Elizabeth’s mother.  She told us where to go, and said if the people weren’t home, to bring me back to her house.  I prayed they wouldn’t answer the door, as I would have loved to have stayed in that beautiful white house on the hill.  Mr. B. kept insistently ringing the bell though, and finally a woman with a broad Scotch accent came to the door.  She said she hadn’t expected me so soon, but if I didn’t mind sleeping with her sister for a couple of months, I was welcome immediately.  Being a rather shy child, I mention the fact that I could have stayed at Mrs. Robinson’s.

Mrs. Newbury introduced me to her sister who was a typical gaunt type Scots-woman, also to her husband, who was a likeable fellow, and their baby daughter, nicknamed Wendy.  They had a nice house, which he had built himself, being a bricklayer.  The room I shared with the sister was lovely, and I thought the coloured sheets were wonderful.  The bathroom had an imitation black and white marble bath-tub, and flush handle on the toilet, instead of the old pull chain, which was in existence in most places, so it was very modern for England.  It seemed like years before I had the bedroom to myself.  Every night was the same routine.  The sister would have the water bottle first, and finally give it to me when it had cooled off.

For a long time after that, I can’t particularly remember going anywhere.  I was about the only one who didn’t have any freedom.  Cecily Bartlett must have felt sorry for me, and one day suggested that as it was almost my birthday, I could stay at her billet, which was in the Verger’s wonderfully quaint little cottage, for the week-end, and attend a dance at Loxwood Village Hall, at her expense.  We would go with the Verger’s daughter, who was about 18, and about six other young people.  I was sure I wouldn’t possibly be allowed to go, but Cecily apparently talked my guardians into it.

My first dance, and what an outfit I chose to wear!!! A thick woollen suit, wool sweater, lisle stockings, and flat heeled shoes, and to complete the ensemble, a white rose, which my Mother had given me to wear in the black-out, because it was luminous in the dark.  To me it was all very exciting, and when we went to call for John and Peggy Tye, twins, whose parents ran the village pub, we were all treated to a glass of ginger wine.  I imagined I felt quite giddy.  I was grateful for my flat heeled shoes, as we had no transportation, and the Hall was about 3 miles away.

I was pretty hopeless as a dancer, although Cecily tried hard to teach me.  It must have been pretty obvious to the young men attending, that I was pretty grim, consequently no one asked me to dance, until the last waltz, and the young man was almost as bad as I.  Oh!  What misery for us both, and those poor feet.  We were both glad when it was over.  Anyway, it broke the ice for the next dance, I attended months later.

My next outing was to the movies.  In London, I used to go about 3 times a week, and since the war, hadn’t been at all.  The nearest Cinema was in Cranleigh, about 5 miles away.  They were showing the Mikado in technicolour.  Which everyone thought would be very educational etc.  The only thing exciting to me, was the fact, that amongst the group was Elizabeth’s brother.  In fact we went in their car, and sat with them.  I don’t suppose Bill ever noticed little adoring me, as I was only 15, and he must have been in his twenties.

For some reason neither Mr. B. or his wife ever mentioned my Xmas gifts, which I had spent hours picking out.  Owing to the fact, that I had a younger sister to help take care of, and the fact that my guardians had married only a year before and were middle aged, with no children of their own, I seldom went any place, other than to the Village store, and to school, or perhaps a trip with them to Cranleigh in their little English car.  While at the Rectory I got out once a week in the evenings to the First Aid class, which was just outside the church-yard, and meant a very hurried walk home for me in the pitch dark through the grave-yard.  I don’t know where I got the nerve, but I enjoyed the lessons I received, even though I was always terrified in case they would use me as a demonstration.  In London, I once volunteered during recess to let our Art Mistress attempt a new type of tourniquet on my arm, after putting up with it for what seemed an eternity, and my arm losing all feeling.  Miss Baker said something about the experiment not going off right and that I seemed to be turning green!  She removed the awful thing.  I never volunteered for that type of thing again.

I finally had an excuse to get out for rehearsals for a variety concert at the Village Hall, which was actually a quaint old thatched cottage near the church.  I was to do my impersonations of movie stars, which Id been doing since about the age of ten.  Also to sing and dance The Fleet’s in Port Again, with a wealthy young lady named Elizabeth.  I spent many evenings in her beautiful home, and marveled at their pure white carpet that covered their whole living room floor.  She also had a pony that I loved and a cute looking brother, who reminded me of John Payne the movie star.  The concert went off with great success, presented by the evacuees, as we were called, and accompanied by Miss Burrows, a retired police-woman.

Our make-shift school house was part of the Chapel in the middle of the Village.  One day I came home from school to a very worried looking bunch of people, it didn’t take long to find the reason.  My pretty little sister Wendy, with her beautiful blonde curls, greeted me minus her curls, in fact she looked as though someone had put a basin on her head, and calmly cut around it, and that’s exactly what the dear Rectors wife had done! You see they had for some years been missionaries in China, and apparently that’s the way they cut children’s hair when they were there.  Poor Mummy, what a shock for her on the next visit.  I couldn’t resist taking Wendy’s photo with my little Brownie box camera.

Finally everyone had to move from the Rectory, as the Rector and his wife found it too much for them for some reason, and no bombs had a yet fallen on dear old England, and we’d only had one alert.  One morning a typical villager, rung frantically at the old fashioned bell and chain.  I ran to the door and all I could understand was the warrrning, the warrrning, in the typical village accent.  I believe the church bells were rung etc., but there were no air-raid shelters in the country anyway.  It turned out to be one of our own planes.

Off we went eventually, to live in a small bungalow, the owner living alone there, being separated from his wife.  I was made to go to bed about 9 o’clock, but could never get to sleep, as Jack, the owner played all kinds of string instruments and Mr. B. played the piano.  For Xmas I bought her the music and words of the Beer Barrel Polka (neither she nor her husband drank intoxicating beverages).  So I really don’t know whether she liked the song or not, although she did learn to play it, and for some reason, I gave Mr. B. a pair of sock suspenders for his Xmas present.

They managed to find a spare old fashioned iron bedstead, which they put in the library; also they managed to procure a large crib for Wendy.  Renee was to share the room for me.  We had lots of fun and once in a while got a bunch of candy etc., and had a midnight feast.  The only thing was Renee loved to sing, and would wake me up in the early hours of the morning, after talking far into the night, singing over and over some blues song!

Eventually our parents were informed as to our whereabouts.  So Mummy could finally send me some fresh clothes, and eventually come and visit us.  The Rector and his wife couldn’t seem to get servants to stay, and with such a large house-hold and only a cook and char-woman left, we were all assigned various tasks, such as doing our own personal washing, keeping our rooms tidy etc.  Owing to the abundant supply of flowers, an old maid of whom no one seemed to know much about, and didn’t bother to find out, took on the daily job of picking and arranging flowers.

Once in a while the Rector’s daughters would come down for a visit from London.  They were both attractive looking, one blonde and the other brunette.  The latter looked like Jessie Mathews, the dancer and film star, and knew it, as Renee and I found a bunch of photos of the daughter together with several of the film star.

We finally settled down, attending church morning and afternoon if possible.  The village church was a beautiful little place, right next door; in fact the church graveyard was separated only by a brick wall from Renee’s and my room, which we thought rather spooky.  The Rectory was supposed to be haunted anyway, but our many efforts at routing out the ghosts, did not yield very much.  We used to play a kind of Ouija board and had many messages, but always suspected one another of moving the glass.  Our teacher and his wife informed us, that as they were sleeping in the haunted bedroom, that it must be the ghost who rattled their iron bed-posts.  We were sleeping directly under their room and several times heard a few weird noises in our room.