My Life Story – David John Finch


My father was Ernest Robert George Finch and my mother was Violet Annie Finch nee Dalton.  I was born on 19th July 1928 in a basement flat of a large house overlooking Preston Park on the London Road and corner of Lovers’ Walk.  In 1929 we moved to a brand new house at no 7 Warmdene Road, Patcham, which was a new development of a few houses and no made-up road.  In those days they built the houses before the road.  Further down the road were riding stables and at the top end was a large site of small holdings, now the site of the Patcham schools.
 
To help my father with the mortgage, which was minute by today’s standards, he let out the first floor to a lady called Aunty Cooper and her husband, Goggle(!). They had a daughter called Joyce, who was my age.  This arrangement lasted until I needed a bedroom and they moved next door.
 
Later on my father, who was a self-employed electrician, bought his first car – a sit-up-and-beg Austin 7 with celluloid windows which flapped.  We used to go up to Blakesley in Northamptonshire in the car which was a real adventure and used to take hours, always stopping at Runnymede by the Thames for a drink and sandwich.  We used to go up to Blakesley twice a year, by car in the summer and train in the winter when Miss White (who my grandad worked for as Head Gardener at the Dower House) used to send her car and chauffeur (in a large Humber) to Northampton station to pick us up.  I used to love going round the garden with grandad, lots of lovely things to eat – raspberries (white ones), dessert gooseberries and huge Victoria plums.  My bedroom there had a feather mattress, which was absolutely fabulous!  It overlooked the tennis courts where Dick Martin, who made briar pipes, played with his friends and I used to watch until the feather bed got the better of me (wonderful!!).
 
I started school at 5 years at the small school in the Old London Road in Patcham and walked to and back from school.  The headmaster was a Mr Stone, a stern looking man but I don’t think he was really.  I remember on my first day at school that when morning break came, I thought school was over for the day and walked home, to my mother’s surprise, who thought she had got rid of me for the day and promptly took me back.
 
My brother, Graham Basil, was born on 6th January 1933 (think the year is right, maybe 1934, must ask him sometime) and by this time I had joined the cubs and was being made to go to Sunday school at the Methodist Church in Ladies Mile Road.  I didn’t think much of this as my mates were playing cricket or football! Then for a few years it was pretty good and about 1936 the new school opened at the top of Warmdene Road, which I attended.  This was great as I didn’t have a long walk to school.
 
Then all change in 1939 when war broke out.  I recall about 12 o’clock on a Sunday morning in September, the sirens sounded.  From the shops in Wilmington Way there was a twitten which ran down past our house all the way to Old London Road.  On the sounding of the siren, people were all outdoors and Daph’s father (who I knew by sight, I did not know Daph then but knew her sister who was in my class) came running down the twitten shouting to all “the buggers are here, the buggers are here”.  I was 11 years old, little did I know what the future held!
 
For the next few months all was quiet, nothing happened apart from gas masks being issued, ration books, etc.  I still can’t believe we survived on the rations allowed, mothers queued for hours, absolutely nothing was thrown away, no new clothes (old ones were patched and darned).  Air raid shelters were built, sand bags filled, Dad built a blast wall in front of the lounge windows and later on a Morrison shelter was installed in the lounge, which was a cast iron rectangular box about 6’ x 4’ with steel mesh for sides.  Bas and I spent many a night in this thing.  Mum and Dad slept in their bedroom directly above us, if anything had happened they would have come straight down on us, I didn’t think of this at the time.
 
Then we started to get isolated coastal raids by about 3 fighters with one bomb each which caused a bit of a panic, but amazingly we seemed to get used to it.
 
I remember going to the dentist with Mum near St Peter’s Church.  I had to have gas, so I was a bit groggy on the way home and a fighter flew low and straight over our bus.  Another time when all the kids were coming out of school, I was about 50 yards from home when a fighter flew low, straight down Warmdean Road, machine gunning and all the kids dived for the gardens.  I never ran so fast in my life!  Another time later in the war, a Flying Fortress crash landed on the Downs, just above Paul’s Farm.  It came down safely (don’t quite know how) and all the crew survived and were there for several weeks surrounded by kids (me included) cadging chocolate.  After this it dawned on me that events weren’t exciting anymore but very dangerous.
 
Things calmed down for a while and I had graduated to the scouts.  Dad had joined the Home Guard (originally LDV – Local Defence Volunteers) and was out most nights.  He used to keep his rifle in the cupboard under the stairs.  I don’t know how he did that, what with working all day.  It couldn’t have done his health much good as he had been gassed in the First World War and wasn’t in the best of health.
 
Then the evacuees arrived, hundreds of kids from the East End of London.  I’ve never seen such scruffy kids, with very poor clothes and shoes, dirty and lousy with fleas.  Mum was disgusted and tried to put things right.  I think we only had one, they had no toothbrush and had never had or seen one, never seen a bathroom, only a tin bath occasionally.  All this meant that Bas had to give up his bedroom.  I slept in the back bedroom with a double bed (lucky boy) and he moved in with me.  I was about 12 and Bas about 7 and at night he made up stories to tell me.  I couldn’t quite get over this as surely it should have been the other way round.
 
Problems then arose with school as they couldn’t cope with the amount of children, so they solved it by the locals going in the morning and evacuees in the afternoon and this was rotated every so often.  So we only had half day education.  I think this went on for about 6 months then they all went back to London and later on I think, sent to safer areas.  Back to normality and then the Battle of Britain.
 
It started with the German airforce attacking all airfields and radar stations in the south east and this went on for a few days, after which it really began.  Wave after wave of bombers would come over to attack London heavily – the East End to begin with and it went on for weeks, day and night.  We first hoped our evacuees had been moved out.  Every day in clear blue skies, waves of bombers would come over to be met by our fighters and we, as lads, would watch the dog fights.  The skies were full of planes and vapour trails and parachutes of pilots of downed aircraft – we didn’t know whether they were friend or foe.  All this is something I have never forgotten.  Eventually they gave up and turned their attention to Russia.  Invasion fears were now over and everyone breathed again.  Although London was in ruins, how they survived this I will never know but they did, thanks to the RAF pilots and wonderful aircraft.  These pilots were young lads of 18, 19 and 20 from all free nations.  It was a really terrible time, which I have always remembered.
 
I left school at 14 in 1942.  I had been seriously ill with an infection of the eardrum and was off school for 2–3 months.  This came at a time when I should have sat for exams to grammar school, so that didn’t happen.  I had a chance to sit for what they called the 11+ but I didn’t really want to go to Varndean, so I rejected it and hence left school at 14.
 
In 1941-42, the scout master, Mr Kensett, and ex-policeman, decided to form a band with Mr George Longden, an ex-police sergeant and bandsman, who was to be our Bandmaster. I, of course, joined but had never before played anything musical.  It struggled to get numbers as it was a small troop.  I had been given a euphonium to learn and it was nearly as big as me.  However, the band folded and the Patcham Youth Band was formed with George Longden as Bandmaster.  There followed years of great fun and enjoyment until the mid-fifties.  I will not go into those years as I have in my possession a publication by Don Stockley, a copy of which is lodged in certain archives.  I do recall one particular personal event with the band as such.  We used to enter the Brighton Music Festival and I was fortunate enough to win both solo and quartet for brass and I was selected to play my solo in the Dome on the Saturday night.  I did not realise that the audience would be 2000 strong with just me and a pianist on this whacking great big stage.  Talk about panic, but I seem to remember it went ok.
 
As I have already mentioned, I left school at 14 and I had always wanted to be a draughtsman.  I was quite good at free and technical drawing, which was taught at school but as we were at war, this was a non-starter!  So I had to look for something else.  I secured a job at Moore’s Garage as a trainee motor mechanic.  Moore’s had a very large workshop close to Western Road, Brighton, and had a showroom and sold mainly Rolls and Bentley’s.  My pay was 6d per hour for 48 hours, what a shock that was!!  So my pay was £1 and 4 shillings a week of which Mum took 12/6 per week.  I duly started work cycling to work and back, still wearing my school cap, but only for a few days when I realised my mistake!  The garage worked on nothing but army vehicles of all types, no matter what they were in for they were all stripped down to the chassis, cleaned and reassembled.  I remember thinking what a waste of money that was as they were more than likely to be blown to pieces in a few months.  I progressed quite well and was enjoying it when after 15 Months Dad approached me with an offer.  Because of call up to the services he was one of a very few electricians left in Brighton so he was very busy and needed some help.  So I left Moore’s and went to work with Dad and that was me stuck as an electrician for the rest of my working life. 
 
About this time I left the scouts but continued with the band which was going places, good numbers and it was really coming together.  I did however, having been an air scout, join the ATC (Air Training Corp) which was 226 Squadron based at Highcroft Villas in Dyke Road. This was with a view to getting into the RAF with call up threatening.  I thoroughly enjoyed this time.  I went to camp near Weston-Super-Mare with a prospect of my first flight, which unfortunately never materialised.  I did get to represent the 226 at all Sussex ATC Althletics meeting at Redhill, at the long jump.  I didn’t win but didn’t come last.
 
Early in 1946 call up loomed and I was called for a medical at which I was passed A1 fit.  Dad and I discussed the possibility of a 2 year deferment to complete my apprenticeship.  Dad, by this time, was employing another chap and another when required, so we thought we would give that a miss and get this service over.
 
Finally, in July 1946, the dreaded envelope arrived, still not knowing what I was in for.  It was either one of the 3 services or down the mines as a Bevan Boy, which didn’t appeal at all.  It turned out that despite my nearly being a fully qualified electrician and my time in the ATC, the powers that be put me in the Army (big disappointment).  I was to report to Colchester Barracks in Essex in a week’s time together with a train ticket.  Come the day, I left home to begin my service, full of apprehension.  It was the first time I had travelled out of Sussex on my own, but with the help of Red Caps (Military Police) at both Victoria and the other station (can’t remember which one), I duly arrived at Colchester Station where more MP’s escorted me and more chaps on the train to trucks en-route to the barracks.
 
So began weeks of primary training, with issue of kit, uniform and boots.  We had kit and room inspection every day.  Kit had to be laid out on beds in exact positions with blankets precisely folded (no sheets) and complete room containing 24 chaps which formed a platoon.  Also, there was endless square bashing and saluting.  We weren’t allowed out of barracks until the whole platoon could salute correctly.  With 24 chaps there is always one who couldn’t master this, so it was 3 weeks before we got into town.  Whilst at Colchester, I auditioned for the regimental band and was accepted, but I found out I had to sign on for 10 years, so I declined.  I have often wondered since if I’d done the right thing.  We eventually passed out after 6 weeks and came home on 7 days leave.
 
Returning from leave I was posted to Northampton Barracks and the Royal Hampshire Regiment (not even the Royal Sussex!) to begin 10 weeks of intensive training involving a 5 mile run before breakfast, route marches of varying lengths, ending with 25 mile run with full pack and battle order, days on the ranges with 303 rifles, Bren gun, Piat anti-tank guns and sten gun which was useless, sprayed bullets all over the place.  I came away from the ranges qualifying as marksman with rifle and Bren gun. 
 
We stayed at Northampton for 5 weeks and then we moved to Bulford Camp on Salisbury Plain for the last 5 weeks, I’ve never been so fit before or after!  When the 10 weeks were up, we all had leave first before Christmas 1946.  Just after Christmas, leave was cut short and I had to report back.  At the beginning of January 1947 we embarked on a train which took us to Dover and we spent the night in tunnels under Dover Castle.  In the morning we boarded a paddle steamer for Calais in a raging gale.  It was so rough, the paddles were coming out of the water, chaps were being ill all over the boat but somehow I wasn’t.  We duly arrived in Calais and I don’t think I could have survived another 10 minutes without being ill.  We boarded a military train called the Medloc “C” not knowing where we were going, but finished up travelling across France, Germany and ended up in Austria at a place called Villch.  Europe and England were gripped in the harshest winter for years.  Our billet had icicles on the outside 6 feet long and 12 – 18 inches thick at the top.  Not nice!  When we woke in the morning the billet had no heat and our boots were frozen to the floor.  Still not knowing where we were going, we once again boarded a train to a transit camp at Udini in Italy.  Whilst here, some mates and I went to Venice for the day.  We saw all the sights and being in the army, we didn’t have to pay for anything, although being just after the war finished there wasn’t much available.  At this point we were told we were to join the battalion in Palestine.  Somehow I got separated from my mates and was posted to Rimini in Italy to guard a prisoner of war camp which was at Rimini Airfield.  Our billet was a patched up small hotel right on the beach, 50 yards from the sea.  This was a small place called Ricconi, nothing around it for a long way, all flattened during the war.  The guard duty consisted of 2 hours on and 4 hours off for a week.  We stayed in a hut at the camp and had to go up this watch tower with a Bren gun for 2 hours at a time day and night.  After a week we went back to our billet for a week off and repeated the process.  I think I was there for 4 – 5 months and then had leave.  When I came back I got as far as Udini in Italy and was told that the unit had all gone home, including the prisoners of war.  All I had was what I stood up in as most of my kit was in Ricconi, never to be seen again!  So once again I was stuck.  Eventually, I was told I was being put on a boat to Port Said in Egypt and on to Palestine to join the regiment at last!
 
I boarded a train at Port Said and arrived at Suez, a large transit camp where the canal reached the Red Sea.  I was in the transit camp for about 2 weeks thoroughly bored, when I had to report to the C O’s office and was told I was to be posted to permanent staff.  When I asked where, I was told the Captain’s Quarter Masters store right there in the transit camp, which turned out to be the largest in the Middle East.  All troops in transit passed through there.  I never got any further and was there for 15 months before I came home in the late summer of 1948.  All the demob groups came through the camp so my demob number was 78, so I got some idea when I would be getting out.  However, they got to number 76 and then nothing for about 2 – 3 months.  I was feeling cheesed off by now, but my number finally came up and I boarded a train at Suez and the first people I saw was all the chaps who were in my platoon.  How about that!  And we had a lot of catching up to do.  At Port Said we boarded the “Georgic”, a pre-war cruise ship converted to a troop ship, so there were not many luxuries. We finally sailed up the Solent to Southampton and I saw the first piece of greenery for a long time.  I have always had a special place for the Isle of Wight ever since.  From there we went to Woking for our demob kit comprising of a suit, underwear, socks and shoes, and, of all things, a trilby hat.  I was given a rail ticket and duly arrived back in Patcham a free man.
 
In 1949 I joined Patcham Cricket Club, who I played for every Saturday and Sunday for 21 years.  I was on the committee for many years and was also Captain for about 6 years.  At some point, my Mum and Sheila Knight did the teas and when Mum stopped doing them, Daph took her place, and very nice they were too.  When the kids came along, Daph and the kids used to come every Sunday on away matches and I hope they recall these times and the fun and adventures they had.  I also joined Patcham Youth Club and played table tennis, where I met Maurice Knight for the first time and so began a friendship which lasted a life time for both Daph and I.
 
Things went along very enjoyably when one day in 1951, Jim Fox, who was also a member of the band which I had rejoined on coming out of the Army, decided to go ice skating at the SS Brighton at the bottom of West Street.  After skating around for a while we spotted Daph and her sister there, neither of whom were very good skaters.  We decided to approach and I made a beeline for Daph who had nice long legs and the shortest of tartan skirts.  She had a lovely smile and we spent the rest of the evening together and then we took them home.  Poor old Jim got lumbered with Daph’s sister and I don’t think that went any further, but I was smitten and so began 4 years of courtship.  After 2 years we got engaged and in 1955 we got married and so began 62 years of marriage.  We began to look for houses without much success.  Then we heard of an estate being built along Highview Avenue North, mainly of bungalows and some detached houses.  We liked a bungalow and set about getting a mortgage, to no avail.  In those days you had to put down 10% of the price which amounted to £230, which we didn’t have and they didn’t take into account the wife’s wages, so we were very despondent.  Then Dad said he would lend us £250 for a deposit, so we approached the agent again and was told that the bungalow had been sold but there was still one of the 3 bed detached houses available and the price was £2500.  We had finally found a society willing to give us a mortgage but over 30 years, not the usual 25 years.  My father had to stand guarantor as the repayments were £10 and 10 shillings a month and I wasn’t earning that a week.  Dad agreed and we said that we would pay it back at £4 a week, which was all of Daph’s wages, which we did every week and Dad let us off the last £50, for which we were very grateful.  I remember coming out of the Co-Op Building Society having signed all the forms and thinking “what the hell had I done?”.
 
We got married on 31st March 1955.  I believe it was a Thursday.  We originally had the Saturday before booked but Daph changed it to her birthday.  We married in a little church in Preston at the bottom of Drove Road, Preston.  We had to leave a suitcase at the vicarage as we weren’t domicile, although I was born in Preston.  The day finally arrived, dry but cold.  Bas was my best man and we were left waiting in a cold cemetery for about 15 mins as Daph was late, and not for the first time in our marriage!!  As it turned out in fact she was only ever on time when we went out with Maurice and Sheila!!
 
Back to the wedding day, we had a reception at Clarke’s Bakers and restaurant on the corner of New Road and North Street (is it still there I wonder?), after which we all came back to Highview Road for drinks and snacks.  I remember I had 6 pint can of Watney’s Red Barrel, I don’t know what we had for the ladies as our lot were not into wine then.  I do remember we never had seats for everyone and some sat on the window ledge of the bay window in the lounge.  It all passed off very well and it was a lovely day.
 
We never had a lot of furniture.  We had a dining room suite, a bedroom suite, which we bought second hand from a lady Daph knew who was emigrating to Canada.  We had a 3 piece suite in very rough condition from Bas’s firm auction sale.  The frames were in A1 condition, we got it dirt cheap and had it recovered.  We also had a front room carpet from Carlin Carpets because they owed Dad money.  There was no washing machine and no fridge.  I later sold my beloved BSA 500 motorbike for £50 and bought a new fridge.  From then we got more items as and when we could afford them.
 
We had been married about 2 weeks and at dinner Daph served up rhubarb and custard, which I hated and couldn’t eat.  So Daph ate mine as well and finished up with food poisoning and went home to her mum.  She was gone for about 10 days, hey ho, not the best start to our marriage.  Daph duly recovered and things returned to normal.  Daph working as manageress at Peter’s the florist in Gardner Street, paying Dad back with her wages.  Then on 17th November 1959, Debra Louise was born after a false alarm on the 13th resulting in bringing Daph back home from hospital.  On leaving hospital we stayed at my Mum’s but found it so cold that we went home after a few days, but I think Daph was grateful for a few days help from Mum.
 
When Deb was 18 months in 1961, Dad died leaving me in charge of the firm and everything else.  I was fine with all contract works but had never been involved with the paper work, PAYE, wages and accounts or pricing.  The first priority was wages and I was very grateful for the wonderful help of Rosie Button, without who I could never have done it.  Bas was living in Bracknell at the time and he kindly took over doing the books.  The funeral duly arrived but I don’t remember much about it.  We were in the middle of a new Bellman’s supermarket in Portslade and I had to go back to work directly after the funeral, so it was all a bit chaotic.
 
We had a few traumas along the way.  The first one was before we were married.  Daph had discovered some lumps in her left breast and duly went into hospital for an operation.  In my innocence I never ever thought of cancer.  In those days it was something people never knew much about, I certainly didn’t and Daph may have done but never mentioned it.  However, it turned out to be Mastitis and appeared that at every period she had a false pregnancy and produced milk, which formed lumps.  Happily, Daph recovered and after a fairly long period returned to her old self.
 
The second event was when Daph was 7 – 8 months pregnant with Debra.  Her mum had been taken into hospital with a brain tumour and Daph was very upset as her mum was in London.  Vic and Val Jeffs, who we first met when we went on holiday to the Lakes and Scotland with Vic and Jeanne Edwards, our neighbours, the year after we got married.  This was our honeymoon as we didn’t have one the year before.  Vic and Val remained lifetime friends.  Anyway, Vic and Val were dog sitting her mum and dad’s house as they were away and Val very kindly invited us to stay with them one weekend.  One night I awoke and Daph wasn’t in bed. I eventually located her standing by the open window in a distressed state.  I can’t recall actual events but Val and I managed to calm her down, but never slept the rest of the night.  Daph’s mum’s tumour turned out to be benign, but she had fought the doctors all through the operation and was left 50% paralysed and spent the rest of her days in various hospitals around Sussex.  She did come home for a while but in the end her dad couldn’t manage and she went back to hospital.  Daph used to visit her every week no matter where she was and, of course, the kids went too sometimes.  Daph’s dad was beginning to go senile and was eventually placed in a home at the bottom of Carden Avenue, from which he used to go AWOL from and end up at our place.  He finally finished up in Bevendean Hospital at the top of Bear Road.  I took Daph up there once and found it awful.  There were all these people sat around the walls of this large room and the stench was appalling.  I couldn’t stand it I’m afraid and had to come out.  Daph stayed a bit longer but not much.  I can’t recall the year but just before Christmas, Daph’s dad passed away in hospital and just after Christmas Daph’s mum passed away.  So, after Christmas we had two funerals in two weeks which was very upsetting, especially for Daph, of course.  I will always remember that they were not very nice.  There were, as I recall, 4 people at her mum’s funeral and 6 at her dad’s, both at Woodvale.  I also remember the final insult to Daph when her mum left her only her goods and shackles.  I always felt for Daph about this as she above anyone else had always visited her mum weekly and we had her dad during the day, while her sister hardly ever visited or much less than Daph.  Daph, however, did not really take offence, not outwardly anyway.  She was just content to know in her own mind she had done everything she could.  That was the kind of person Daph was.  She would help and do anything for anyone.  I was very proud of her and I rather doubt that I would have the same outlook.
 
Daph and I were blessed with two further additions to our family.  Dawn Mandy was arrived on 1st October 1963 and when she was born she looked like a Red Indian in full war paint!  She had been born with long finger nails and had been scratching her face in the womb.  She was later to develop a wonderful great mop of blonde curly hair.  Finally, David Robert was born on 13th December 1967.  Daph was 37 by this time and we nearly lost him twice.  This completed our family.  Everything in the early years of our marriage seemed to happen in 4 year cycles.  We had four years courtship, 4 years before Deb came along and 4 years between her and the other two.  We were also known amongst friends as the “5 D’s”, owing to our Christian names.
 
Things were going along quite nicely now.  Business was brisk and I was employing 3 electricians full-time, Charlie Smith, Brian Kerridge and Ken Jones.  Charlie was the eldest and Dad had taken him on at the age of 41.  Dad was dubious but I thought experience counted for a lot and so it proved.  The other two were younger but fully qualified.  Dad had first worked for Bellman’s when they had just one small shop in Oxford Street, Brighton, and over the years Bellman’s had really grown and we were doing all their work.  They had bought several shops fronting London Road and created a large department store.  Then they developed supermarkets and wool shops and also a large warehouse in Bond Street and all over Sussex and a little way into Hampshire and Kent.  All this was keeping us nearly fully employed.  I purchased a van for the lads to travel in and things were pretty good as 90-95% of our turnover was with Bellman’s.  Then in 1969 complete and utter disaster.  Bellman’s supermarkets were taken over by Keymarkets and all the wool shops were taken over by Scottish Wool.  I was devastated in one swoop as I had lost nearly all our work.  I struggled on for a while but regrettably had to let Brian and Ken go and sold the van.
 
However, after talks with Mr Morley, our accountant, it became obvious that I couldn’t carry on and it was decided to try and sort out the finances and go for voluntary liquidation, which meant I would keep the company but not trade.  If I couldn’t manage this I would have to go bankrupt.  I dearly wanted to achieve the first option as Dad had first started in 1926.  As things turned out I did manage to achieve this, which was some satisfaction, but I was now unemployed with a mortgage and a young family.  It was a very new experience and stressful time for us.  I learnt a very important lesson over all this and that was “never put all your eggs in one basket”.  This applies to both business and private dealings.  There followed a very dodgy few months and I really don’t know how we managed.  However, relief was on its way.
 
One evening we had a knock on the door and it was a good friend of mine, Peter Rhodes who was manager of City Electrical, who were Electrical Wholesalers that I had done a lot of business with.  During the conversation, he said that a firm called GDS in Portland Road, Hove, were looking for a contracts manager and was I interested?  I said I was (not having found anything) and duly had an interview and got the job.  All this was very strange for me, as it had always been me doing the interviewing.  The firm was bigger than I had been and was run by two brothers, Denzil and Les Slumbers and they had a shop and office premises in Portland Road.  I was given an office and a small Hillman van and was to run a large project called Yeovil Gate in Worthing, comprising of shops with dwellings above, a multi-storey car park and a large office complex for Norwich Union.  I was learning a lot about how a different firm worked which, unknown to me at the time, was to stand me in very good stead at a future time.  I starting in January 1970 and was quite enjoying it after getting over the shock of working for someone else, which I had never done.  Then disaster No 2, I got stood off 1 week before Christmas 1970, so it was not much of a Christmas that year.
 
This was my darkest period, at least when the firm went into liquidisation I was occupied with getting all the finances in place to obtain this goal.  Now I had nothing but worry about how I was going to support a family and I sank lower and lower.  I applied for several jobs but nobody wanted a 43 year old, which took my mind back to when Dad and I took on Charlie Smith.  Charlie turned out to be a very good employee, always punctual, skilled and loyal.  I have always felt so pleased that I persuaded Dad to take him on.  Now I was in the same position that he was.  I went to the Labour Exchange to sign on but got nothing because I hadn’t been unemployed for a year and I had £70 in the bank.  All I could get was milk tokens for David. 
 
Daph was wonderful through all this.  Somehow she was able to block out all the negatives and only thought of the positives.  I however always practical, could only see the negatives, unable to get a job and nothing from Social, etc, I could see no way forward.  I’m afraid I became more and more despondent and was not much use to the family and Daph.  I really don’t know how I could have got through this period without Daph, who continued to look on the bright side and support me.  I even got as far as thinking about selling the house!  I really don’t recall how long this went on for, but it was a really dark period.  Then there was salvation from a surprising source and a person who I was in debt to for the rest of my life.  He not only saved my sanity but most importantly, my family which meant (as it does to this day) everything to me.
 
Maurice Knight came calling one day.  I had just about finished with cricket now but Maurice had taken up golf.  We joined Waterhall for a while and then in 1966 we joined the Dyke Golf Club.  I never played at weekends as I was still playing cricket, but that changed when I packed up cricket.  Anyway, we were always pleased to see Maurice and in he came pulling Daph’s leg as he always did and Daph made the tea.  Maurice and his father, Gaye, had formed a new company a few years earlier called Knights (Sussex) Ltd.  His father had been involved with brothers in a different company but that had been dissolved.  In fact, it turned out that they had built the council house that Daph’s mum and dad had lived in, in Warmdene Close (small world!).  Maurice asked if I still had my company, which thankfully I had.  I had most shares but Mum had a few.  He went on to say that they were thinking of starting an electrical section.  (Thinking back, I had the feeling that this was Maurice’s idea rather than his father’s).  He offered to buy the shares and that I would run it.  I couldn’t believe it!  I agreed hastily before he changed his mind.  I gave him my shares and he paid Mum £5 for hers.  So I started working for Maurice which was very hard to begin with as I hadn’t been on the tools for a good few years, and I suffered some aches, pains and blisters.  After that day it was a very happy and successful association for 30 years and I remember Daph saying to me, after he left that day, “I told you everything would be OK”.  I don’t know how she knew but she had never wavered through that very worrying time.
 
Maurice had by now packed up golf and concentrated on bowls.  His father, Gaye, had built a large indoor bowls facility at Preston Bowls Club, which was very successful and we visited several times.  Maurice and his dad tried several times to get me to join but it didn’t really appeal to me as I preferred golf.  One year, Gaye, Maurice and another chap had entered the All England Triples Championship and after winning numerous county and area matches, they qualified for the finals to be held over a weekend (I can’t remember where, but think it was in the Midlands).  Maurice duly arrived at work on Monday and told us that they had won and they were the All England Indoor Triples Champions.  What an achievement!
 
I carried on playing golf with some success.  I won quite a lot of competitions and I now had a single figure handicap.  The lowest being 5 and I was still a single figure golfer in my seventies.  I had won many things at the Dyke but never a monthly medal.  On my 70th birthday I played yet another monthly medal and low and behold I won.  I was later presented with a glass tankard suitably engraved to mark the occasion.  I still have that tankard in my cabinet.  I had become involved in things at the Dyke and was elected Chairman of the very first social committee to be formed at the Dyke.  We put on different events once a month at the clubhouse, ranging from bingo to car treasure hunts.  These became very well supported and Daph used to come to most of them, which was great and being the person she was, made a lot of friends.  A few years later I was elected onto the main committee on which I was to serve for 12 years.  I became Greens Chairman for 4 years who was responsible for all things regarding the golf course, which was quite a job but I enjoyed it very much.  In 2002 I was awarded a lifetime honorary membership, for which I was honoured and humbled to accept.  I carried on playing and enjoying the social life of the Dyke until I was 87 when I put away my golf clubs and stopped playing.  My hands and legs were no good anymore and I couldn’t compete.  My handicap had risen to 21 in a very few short years and I couldn’t cope with that.  I had been a member of the Bun Buns, MUGS and Early Birds for many years and I missed all the friendships I had formed, but I still had my Daph, although she had been in a nursing home since 2007 but was still with all her faculties.
 
Maurice’s father had passed away and he had run Knights (Sussex) very successfully but later on his son David joined him, and Maurice, still very much the boss, sat back a bit.  He and Sheila moved from Ladies Mile Close (which was built by Paris and Son who also built our house) to Grangeways in a chalet bungalow in a small cul-de-sac off the London Road.  He had it redone and I, of course, rewired it.  Sadly, Maurice died in 2000.  I missed him terribly and we tried to support Sheila as much as we could.  We took her out to lunches but it was not to be for long as Sheila also passed away in 2002.  When Maurice died I was 72 and had retired at 65 but continued to work 3 mornings a week doing the office work and running the jobs, which were being carried out by two self-employed people I had used for some years.  Maurice was younger than me I reckon about 4 – 5 years, I don’t really know, which would have made him 67 – 68 and Sheila was younger, both of them far too young.  So David was in charge and as young people do he reduced my days to two mornings, which I found not to my liking.  My sub-contractor took over and I packed up at 71 years old.  Daph and I had by this time started taking short 5 day breaks at Trust House Forte Hotels.  Later on when Trust House Forte sold out we used to hire cottages and we had some wonderful times.  We used to have lunch at a different pub every day and I, of course, tried a different beer each day.  We nearly always went down West, which we loved.  We did have visions of moving down to Dorset but after weighing up the pros and cons decided against it.
 
Then came the night of the Big Storm.  I’m a little hazy of the date but I believe it was October 1987.  We were woken by a very loud roaring noise, so we got up and soon realised it was the wind.  We looked out the landing window and roof tiles were flying everywhere.  Deb and Dawn had left home and there was just us and David.  Then there was an almighty crash.  Our large chimney had come down!  It had smashed our roof, fallen through Vic’s garage roof next door and wrote off a Granada and Alfa Romeo.  It had also smashed through their kitchen door and remnants were all over the kitchen floor.  Daph knocked on next door and woke them up.  They had slept through it all!  I then spent several hours in the loft trying to keep the rain from coming in.  Then, another disaster, I found that my house insurance had lapsed.  I hadn’t taken out one after we paid off the mortgage.  Once again, Maurice came to the rescue.  He had got a contract with Lewes District Council for storm damage and included my costs in the invoice to East Sussex Council.  What a friend!  It included repair to my roof, rebuilding the chimney and reroofing Vic’s garage.  I also redid the electrics.  I have always been so thankful to Maurice for his incredible friendship and support.  You don’t find many friends like that in a lifetime.  Things settled once again but we were both a bit disillusioned with 14 Highview Road.  I was finding it harder to maintain the house and large garden and Daph was having trouble with the stairs, so 10 years later we decided to sell up and move, but where to?
 
We looked around Patcham but found the bungalows were few and far between and too expensive, so we looked at a few in Seaford but couldn’t really find anything.  Then one day, Deb phoned and said there was a bungalow in Quarry Lane.  We had a look outside first then arranged to look over the bungalow.  I had been dreading the move because I didn’t think Daph would like anything after living in a house all this time.  However, much to my surprise, Daph fell in love with it straight away.  The price was £86,000, so I rang the estate agent the next day and offered £83,000 and they snapped my hand off.  This was 1997 and after a few traumas we actually moved in early July.  It had only taken two and a half months from making an offer.  We had a new kitchen fitted, a new boiler and moved it into the garage, patio doors fitted and over the next 18 months I completely redecorated.  We saw a lot more of Hayley and Michael as we used to pick them up from school.  We were both very happy about our move and settled down in Seaford but Daph being Daph wanted to find a job and got one as a carer.  We went on like this quite content until 2007 when one Sunday I had been to golf and as I phoned Daph when I was leaving and she would open the garage door for me, but I got no answer.  I thought this was odd as we had Val coming to lunch.  I tried twice more on the way home but still no answer.  I thought she was chatting to Pam and Keith next door as we all know she loved to chat but on arriving home the blinds were still shut and the doors locked.  Then I knew something was wrong.  I found Daph on the floor in the toilet and she had been dragging herself around the floor since 8.30am.  The time was now 1.30pm and she had carpet burns on her legs and arms.  She managed to say that she thought she had had a stroke.  I was in utter panic and didn’t even phone an ambulance but rang Deb.  Both she and Geoff came and called an ambulance and a stroke was more or less confirmed.  This was 9th September 2007.
 
Daph was admitted to Eastbourne District General Hospital stroke ward and was paralysed down the left side.  Then 3 weeks later we were called down to the hospital as Daph had had another big stroke and wasn’t expected to pull through.  But Daph had other ideas, she fought, but this time she couldn’t speak or swallow.  Can you imagine someone like Daph not being able to speak?  This, of course, was a very harrowing time for us all and many trips to Eastbourne.  After 3 months of treatment and physio she came out of hospital and entered Freshford Cottage Nursing Home.  She was able to speak now but not able to swallow very well.  She was to remain there for 10 years fighting all the time.
 
Daph had quite a few infections over the years and recovered from them all but in October 2017, on the Monday when I went to see her, she was in her bed again and throughout the week got worse.  When I went down on the Friday, she looked absolutely dreadful and I came away expecting a phone call at any time.  Deb was away and I went down on the Saturday morning and I went to go upstairs to see her and just glanced into the lounge and saw someone sitting in her chair.  On second glance I realised it was Daph.  I couldn’t believe my eyes, she was smiling and very chirpy.  I came away from the visit hardly being able to believe what had happened and I thought that she had beat it again.  On Sunday morning I was getting my breakfast when Deb and Geoff came (they had come home from Cyprus in the early hours) and told me that Daph had passed away at 4 o’clock that morning.
 
I had lost my Daph.
 
 
 
 
 
19th January 2020