大象传媒

I was two years old when Britain declared war on Germany and have no recollection of that momentous period. I know that we lived comfortably in a large terraced house with a backyard and back street where I played with my brother Keith, who was about 17 months older than me. Mother ran the household, which also included her elder sister, Aunt Dora, my sister, Maureen, and my eldest brother, Ian. Daddy was captain of a merchant ship and only came home for leave.

Once a week, Mother used to walk Keith and me round the town for her big shop. The trip invariably started at a greengrocer's shop. We were regular customers and the shop would take the order and deliver the goods by bicycle that afternoon or the next day. At the greengrocer's Mother would usually ask us if there was anything that we particularly wanted and I always wanted bananas. The shop had cut out images of bunches of bananas stuck to the windows and plaster model bananas above the counter but they never had real bananas for sale. I grew up wondering what was the taste of this wonderful yellow fruit and how did people eat them.

Daddy was killed in the Autumn of 1940, Aunt Dora died in a flu epidemic, Maureen went to teacher-training college and Ian joined the Air Force, so just Mother, Keith and I were left at home.

One day an Uncle, who was in the Merchant Navy and who knew that I craved bananas came home on leave bringing a banana for me. He called on us early one afternoon. The banana was smaller than the plaster models in the greengrocer shop and more black than yellow but Mother thought it would be very nice with some bread and margarine at tea time, when Keith and I could share. It was placed on a plate on the kitchen table to wait for tea.

In the afternoons, if we were not at school we would either go for a walk to the park or play in the back street, unless the weather was bad when we played in the front or back room. When it was time for tea Mother cut the bread and spread the margarine in the scullery and then called us and we all went into the kitchen. I was very upset to find a completely banana-less plate. At some time during the afternoon Keith had sneaked into the kitchen and eaten the whole banana, skin and all. I had to have jam with my bread!

I never did taste a banana until after the war. By then, at eight years old, I was sufficiently set in my ways to prefer apples and oranges, which we had been able to get during the war.