大象传媒

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Dad gave me a big hug,鈥� Well Tex be a good boy for your mum, you're off to South Ferriby to live. In that country village, I will be visiting you each weekend."

Mum and her mum (Granny Violet) and mum鈥檚 younger sister June set off with suitcases from the Hull Corporation Pier, on the Hull to New Holland Ferry across the River Humber, along with a number of other Hull families all bound for South Ferriby.

Upon reaching the Lincolnshire side we embarked on the bus to take us to our new temporary homes, the Lincolnshire bus stopped in the main street opposite the blacksmiths and close to the steep winding path up to the village church.

We were lined up to be told where we would be staying. "Mrs Smith and Tex you are to stay with Mrs Kirkby in her cottage", said one lady with a large
clipboard. Granny Violet and June were told they were staying a short distance away in the village, next door to the village midwife. So Mum and I set off, turning right to pass the village shop, and passed the two farmyards down the lane. Mrs Kirkby's cottage was pointed out to us by one of the farmers wives.

Mum knocked on the front door; which was opened by Mrs Kirkby. She duly ushered us into the living room, cigarette dangling from her lips. We were shown the kitchen, bedroom and the outside toilet.

Whilst Mum and Mrs Kirkby were exchanging wartime experiences I was allowed to investigate our close surroundings. Outside the cottage the lane led to what appeared to be a large mansion house surrounded by trees. About 100 yards away, to the right across the Viking Way, was a large forest with the wind whistling through the branches.

A few yards away, along Viking Way, was a turnstile which I clambered over and walked through a field for about 50 yards and there I was gazing directly at the seemingly huge expanse of the River Humber glistening in the spring sunshine. Beneath my feet was a small beach with brilliant white stones, but no sand. This, I was told later that day, was called Chequers.

I scrambled back up the field and along the Viking Way, past the mysterious wood, to Mrs Kirkby's cottage where I excitedly told Mum that I had found all manner of exciting places in just a few minutes. Mrs Kirkby lit another cigarette from the dying embers stub of her present Park Drive and actually managed half a cynical smile; 鈥淲ell Kitty Smith, lets hope Tex finds a lot to amuse him in the next few months as you will soon be busy looking after Tex's brother or sister." Mrs Kirkby pointed her cigarette in the direction of mums swelling belly.

What an eventful month May 1941 proved to be in the village of South Ferriby there was a knock on Mrs Kirkby's front door. Both mum and Mrs Kirkby were otherwise engaged hanging out the washing on the back garden line, I opened the front door. June, my aunt, aged eight, stood there in her thin cotton dress. 鈥淭ex, can you come out to play? Ask your Mum if it's all right for us to walk down to Chequers."

I hurried into the back garden Mrs Kirkby, with obligatory drooping cigarette shouted out,"Yes I suppose so, but don't you two get into any mischief.鈥� June and I shouted out together; "We promise we won't" and out of the front door the two of us scampered, out and into the lane. I excitedly told June that I had a shilling left of Dad鈥檚 last pocket money that he had given me. So off we ran to the village shop to gaze expectantly into the window.

After about five minutes gazing into the windows we plucked up courage to enter the shop to see what delights a shilling could buy. Up and down the shelves we walked under the watchful eye of the shop lady who by now was equal to
all the challenges of those evacuees from Wheeler Street School and their siblings! Finally we decided that a packet of Plasticine was what June and I really wanted, so after agreeing to hand over the shilling and promising to sort out any problems with coupons by telling our respective mums, we left the shop with our precious packet of Plasticine.

What interesting things could a couple of precocious evacuees from Hull do with a packet of Plasticine on that delightful sunny May morning in South Ferriby? I put my finger warningly to my lips to signal to June to keep a secret and beckoned her to follow me down the lane.

From day one of arriving in South Ferriby I had become fascinated and obsessed with the many exciting features of the village and non the more exciting than the two farmyards down the lane. I had noticed that one of the farms had a pond just a few yards inside the main farm gates and in that pond swum six ducks majestically.

June and I both crept inside the farmyard and I silently split open the packet of Plasticine with its red blue green orange strips and proceeded to share out half to June and half to myself. I went over to the far side of the pond leaving June on the nearside and I signalled silently to June to pop the Plasticine into the pond. The ducks played their pail magnificently demolishing their gourmet
delicacies with enthusiasm. Within 60 seconds all the Plasticine had been consumed by the ducks. Satisfied quacks emanated from one side of the pond to the other!.

"Hey you two; what you think you're doing? Get out of it!" shouted the angry farmer who proceeded, to chase us out of the farmyard. But, oh dear, in running out of the farmyard as fast as my legs could carry me I fell all my length in the lane and onto a piece of broken lemonade bottle hidden in the long grass outside the farm gates. I lay there bawling my head off as the bright red blood
showed on my knee. June hurried off to fetch mother whilst the farmer's wife came out of the farmhouse, picked me up, and carried me a few yards down the lane to the village shop where the shop lady owner very expertly bandaged up my cut knee.

Then I was dejectedly marched off down the lane to Mrs Kirkby's cottage and handed over crestfallen to Mrs Kirkby and Mrs Kirkby's cigarette drooped critically out of the side of her mouth. "Kitty, what on earth are you to do with Tex? What a handful he is!鈥�

Mum and Mrs Kirkby were told in the next few days that all of a sudden the Farmers regular supply of duck eggs came to a sudden halt and apparently he had to call in the local veterinary surgeon to cure all six ducks of a severe case of Plasticine induced constipation!
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Added by: Alan Brigham www.hullwebs.co.uk

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