Early life's lessons

Early Life's lessons

I was recognised as different by the locals of my new home town. Living in a council house in the toughest part of town was always going to make me tough, or so I would like to think.

My mother had written home from the states begging my grandfather to send money over to pay for food and to enable her to get a flight home to the UK. My father was apparently absent for most of the time leaving her alone whilst serving his duty. It is said he was a 'womaniser', a trait which may be part of nature and form in the genes. A white English girl, no differentiation between the countries, married to a Native American was not conducive to local support - mum was alone.

My grandfather did not have that kind of money but he knew someone who did. 'Bull' was the local shopkeeper. In this very tight community everyone knew every ones business but they were very supportive, with most of life's challenges. A local marrying one of those Americans was always going to provide the offspring with a label.

'Bull' provided the money. I would like to think without question. My mother and I came home. Home was a typical two up two down. Pleasant and comfortable. Sometimes pitched into darkness and often bereft of food. But then there was Granny and Grandad.

Grandad, he was for all, my father. A softly spoken man who had a nature to suit. He doted on me. It was always Grandad. He took me away with him, wherever he went. He was my sole source of affection.

Granny ranted and raved a lot. She often projected what ever she was holding at the time at either my mother or more often my Grandad. Mum inherited some of these characteristics and I have no surety that it was anything more than nurture rather than nature based upon the evidence that my sister does not have the same traits.

Grandad protected me from everything. Whenever I was anxious, I found him. Whenever I just needed to be with someone Grandad was there.

The environment and years were tough. the local kids had formed attitudes formulated from what they had heard from their mothers about who we were and what we were. We were different.

A beating from the playground was the norm. I would return home bloody and Granny would then pursue the gang until she tired. She was scary when in pursuit. I was always bewildered as to why they would take the chance of getting caught by her.

Another summers day. Playing in the park. Riding the top hat. Leeching on the swings and going down the slide on my front. Having great fun! Then the 'A' brothers arrived with the gang. Here we go again. This time I won't cry.

A broken half pint Watney's ale bottle was threatening me. "I am not scared of that" knocking it out of the hand of the oldest. Then I came over a little bit strange. Fear gripped me. "I will show you I am not scared of that". I stamped on the broken bottle.

20 or so stitches later and sitting on my Grandfathers lap, I wondered why I had not just run away. I tried to explain how I had managed to fall on the bottle and how it had managed to be sticking out of the top of my foot. I am not sure he bought into my story but he never asked me again.

Apprehensively I entered the park. Did they know that I was a 'tough' little bugger! Or so I would like to think of myself. I never found out and was never picked upon again. Indeed I was never picked upon by anyone again. Perhaps Granny did manage to catch them! God help them!

I was a quiet and studious boy. Mum had moved me from school after the teacher and her husband were found bullying me - I was different as everyone knew. But I enjoyed education. I had books and friends who also enjoyed the finer aspects of ornithology. We enjoyed ourselves in the woods and searching for that illusive Redstart.

Mum drove me forwards in school providing work books that were a year ahead of the class. The Head Master thought I was a genius and mum revelled in that. Recognising that I was bright but not a genius, my teacher encouraged me to pursue other interests of which art was just one. I painted birds, what else!

The Parent Teachers Association had raised enough money to build a heated outdoor pool in the school grounds. The subject of every lesson and playtime was now about swimming. "Yes,I can swim". I stood at the edge of the pool. Fear gripped me and I fell forward. I could swim!

I excelled in sport throughout my childhood. Whether football, cricket, basket ball, swimming, athletics and later rugby, I was good at everything. Sport took over my life. I played sports at playtime, evenings and every weekend. Rugby took over my life from the age of 13 and I was noted by others. Later playing at a senior level.

Much later sport played another major role in my life. The irony, unreasonable behaviour, "I am divorcing him on the grounds that he plays golf to the exclusion of me and his sons", She left me for a golf pro.

It was just any other Saturday morning. Grandad, who lived with us by now, was downstairs making a cup of tea. My step dad was talking to him. 'D' was a man who was not unlike my Grandad in nature, a good man who developed in me a work ethic, as he himself worked seven days a week and provided well for us - along with my own father's veteren's pension.

Life was pretty good. A brand new home. Holidays every year and my mum seemed a little happier. But most thrilling of all Grandad lived with us.

After playing with my younger sister I started for the stairs. I looked down from the top "mum mmmmmmmmmmmm". Grandad had had a fatal heart attack. He was only a few years older than I am now but had suffered serious wounds in the 2nd World War. This had weakened his heart.

I did not cry. I was a tough little bugger. After the funeral I rode off on my bike and went fishing. On my own, I cried for his loss. Even now I feel a well of tears building up just thinking of that day.

Now at the age of eleven and short of my Grandad another world collided with mine. I found girls or more correctly they found me just at the time I began puberty for real. Some how they were attracted to me. For the next 30 years it was to be 'always the same'.

To be resumed!!!!