大象传媒

My parents had a fryer in a parade of shops in Chalk Farm, London. We had a variety of customers who came from all walks of life. We used to get visits from chauffers or maids of the businessmen from the Hamstead area. Prices varied for the type of order, the usual orders were for 2d worth of fish and 1d of chips. However the well to do would often ask for and get 6d worth of fish (often plaice). We had many regulars as well as passing trade, even phone orders. Below the shop we had a cellar and whenever the air-raid sirens started we would make our way down there. If any customers were in the shop they would join us. This became quite commonplace. My father would quickly close down the fryers, clear up and bring down any unsold food with him. This was then shared out between everyone. At first conversation was minimal but after awhile people would open up, we would have general chit-chat of what we had been up to that day, other stories unfolded, my brother liked to write so would read them out to us and I had to sing which led to other sing-songs to keep up morale as the noises of the bombing increased. The blitz was worst at night time. Soon word got round and more people would join us. It became a regular meeting place for many at my Mum and Dad's chippy.

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