Life on the Estate - work in progress!

Chapter One

The estate had only been built in 1970, which was when I was born.  It didn’t take long before our lot had a reputation for trouble.  Two nearby towns, Stanwell and Bedfont had reputations for being hard nuts but our lads were holding their own and making waves.  Our estate had a mixture of skinheads and punks.  Most of the time they rubbed together ok.  They would clash sometimes between themselves, but if anyone else caused trouble from the outside they stuck together like glue. 

It was the autumn in ‘76 when the Stanwell boys came to really make trouble.  A huge gang came down Ashford High Street, kicking in what glass they could on the way down, before getting to the bottom where our estate was.  Most were skinheads themselves, with their shaved heads, bleached jeans and Doc Martin boots.  They carried whatever weapons they had been able to get their hands on, with knuckle dusters glinting in the late sunshine.
There were about 30 of them, chanting and shouting abuse, trying to get as much of a reaction as they could.

It wasn’t long before a group of our lads were ready – word got around like lightning and some of them seemed all too ready to join the fighting.  One of our neighbours Shaun was a ring leader for our lot.  He was as hard as nails, and knew it.  He was one of the tallest on the estate, out of the teenagers, and was wide with it.  He was always getting into fights and was feared all over the area as a right hard nut.  He seemed to have no fear, going nose to nose with their front man, his assistants flanking him right and left. 

Suddenly a bottle was launched from towards the back of the Stanwell crowd and that was it – it was like a whistle had gone off. 

Blows were being thrown left, right and centre with weapons flying.  We were watching from the bedroom window, out of the way from the trouble.  It was a great view point, and this was better than the rubbish on telly most of the time for a Friday night.  Ham wasn’t allowed out, otherwise he would have tried to be in the battle too, but there was no way Dad would let him out there tonight, so at least I knew that none of our own were in danger.  The rest of the estate could look after themselves.  This was what life was like – it was no big deal – it was a regular occurrence. 

I was the youngest of four.  We didn’t have a lot, although we rarely went without.  Our eldest was known as Ham – can’t remember why, he used to Ham it up and act up a lot, or it could have been Hammy the Hamster, but he was always Ham all the same.  He was 7 years older than me and was always Nan’s favourite – me Dads Mum.  He was tall, quite thin with short dark hair that used to go in all directions. 

Suze was next, just a year later, and was as hard as nails.  She had hung around with Ham and his mates for years and was a right tom boy.  She was mousey blond, keeping it short and wavy, and like Ham was quite tall and thin for her age.  She was never into girls stuff and could hold her own in a fight, with a good right hook, as I found out a few times. 

Dawnie came next, well saying that Mum had a miscarriage between Suze and Dawnie so we always felt that Dawnie was her favourite.  Dawnie was two years older than me, and was dark and was the only one that was allowed to grow her hair long.  Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth as far as Mum was concerned.  Dawnie was always right – I did me in most of the time, then there was me. 

Dad was still around, so in that way I suppose we were lucky, so many of my mates Dads had done a bunk or were working away.  Dad was a happy one of the lad’s type of bloke, stocky and quite big he was a tough sort, that took no rubbish from anyone but was also a gentle giant. 

The only trouble was his gambling.  It was good when he was on a winning streak, just a shame about the losing times as well.  We all knew when to try to keep out of the way.  You could tell what mood he was in as soon as you walked in from school.  Sometimes you could get out of the way, sometimes you couldn’t – it was the luck of the draw.  I can remember quite a number of times when his dinner had been thrown at the wall and a fried egg would run slowly down the wall, spreading a yellow stain on the way down.  Mum was quite small and thin, with blonde bobbed hair.  She was tough in her own way, and when you got a clip round the ear you felt it.  She wasn’t the cuddly type that was for sure.  I would watch sometimes down town when Mum’s would be all soft and sweet to their kids, but that didn’t happen in our house.  You got on with things and had to find out the hard way sometimes that life wasn’t all cuddly and roses – it was tough.

Dawnie used to really beat me up – all the time.  Especially at night - Dawnie would lean over my cot and whack me.  For no reason – just that she felt like it. She used to torment me so much.  I  had to stay in the cot for years ‘cause there wasn’t any other option for me for quite a while, and I used to hate it.  It felt like I was caged in like a prisoner.  She used to nick my toys, which I hated, then when I cried, she would hit me and tell me to shut up. 

Sometimes Mum used to come to try and “sort us out”.  Invariably she would be on Dawnie’s side and not on mine. 

Eventually they got us some bunk beds – there were us three girls in one room.  I found ways though to get my own back on Dawnie – regularly.  She still used to hang down from the top bunk and hit me during the night or find other ways of getting to me.  I loved to read and used to take a torch under my covers and read until late – I wasn’t allowed the light on as it disturbed Dawnie – ahhh what a shame.  She had a peculiar way though of sleeping – literally like a corpse, it was weird.  She would gradually stretch out dead straight and fold her arms over her chest and be as still as a statue. 

Some nights I put spiders in her bed – one time was a really big hairy pretend one, other times they were real.  I knew she was gradually doing her stretch out, and was listening out intently for when she hit the spider – she did, screamed and beat me up.  It was worth it though for her face and to get her back.  Other times I put bowls of water on top of the door so she would get hit by them when she came to bed – Suze was always so much later I knew they
were unlikely to get her. 

Dawnie hated the hall light being on – there was a little window at the top of the door and the light used to come in through it.  I didn’t mind it – but I suppose thinking now as she was at the top she would have had it right in her eyes.  Not that there was always electricity.  We were always having power cuts. 

We regularly had to get out the candles, and they would be dotted around the place, with Mum fearful that the net curtains would go up in flames.  Thankfully the cooker was gas, and we had a kettle that went on that too – didn’t have an electric kettle then.  Mum used to buy the leaf tea, and cook using the cooker, so it wasn’t too much of a problem.  The only problem was the hot water – bath time was just a quick go in the sink and squashing your knees in.  I was lucky I was small enough to fit – the others had to make do most of the time with strip washes!!!

Mum used to reckon we had a ghost too.  The estate was built on the site of an old Convent, and Mum said that she had seen a ghost regularly sitting on the end of her bed.  She was quite calm about it, she said she didn’t think the ghost meant her any harm and she was a Nun.

“How do you know she’s a Nun.” I asked.

“She always wears a Nun’s habit.” she answered.

“Oh right.  What’s a Nun?”

Mum explained about the Convent and the Nun.  One time, we went to Marble Hill Park for a get together with Mum’s family from Twickenham.  We used to meet up there once a year for Nan’s birthday.  It was nice there, with the river and boats, and we used to play games like rounders or cricket with a load of our cousins.  There were deckchairs that you could hire there and a little cafe where we could get an ice cream or a Fab lolly from – that was my favourite.  We would always take a picnic, and after we had eaten loads, we would go into the woods in the middle of the park and feed the crusts to the squirrels.  They were really tame.

One time though when we went over to Marble Hill, we had all gone over there and been out for hours.  Mum had one of her headaches, so we came home in the middle of the afternoon.  As usual, the first thing Mum did was go to put the kettle on.

“Ouch!” she said.  “It’s hot.”

“What do you mean it’s hot woman?” Dad asked.

“The kettle’s hot – as if it’s only just boiled!”

“Don’t be stupid – how could it be hot.  We have had it on all day.”

“Well it’s hot I tell you.  Come and have a feel.”

Dad went over and sure enough the kettle was hot.  Dad checked the gas, but it was definitely off, and there was no sign of a gas leak or anything.  We couldn’t understand it at all. 

“It must have been the ghost.” said Mum. 

“Now you really are being stupid.” said Dad.

“Well I don’t know.  Maybe she wanted a cup of tea!”

“Or maybe someone broke in.” said Dad.

“What and made themselves a cuppa.  Anyway, nothing else has happened has it.  Kid’s, go check the house over – see if anything’s missing.”

But nothing was – there was no sign of a break in, there was nothing else amiss at all – it was really spooky.

Mum went back to work when we were all finally at school, just a part time job in the greengrocers down the road.  It wasn’t a bad job for her, except in the winter when it was freezing cause all the front of the shop was open to all the elements.  She wore fingerless gloves then and really big jumpers to try to keep warm, and we often got the left over’s that were going over, which helped make up for some extra food for us all.

The estate was quite large, made up of three big blocks of maisonettes – they had “houses” on the bottom, which had two floors, and then as if another house had been chopped in half and laid over the top of two houses on the bottom to make a flat going across the top.  It always took anyone coming over a time to understand what was what.  We didn’t have any back gardens but as one of the “houses” on the bottom had a front yard.  We were surrounded on one side by the garages for the residents, and on the back there was a strip of grass, which we lovingly called the field, with balconies on that side overlooking the grass.  After a few of the houses, there were alleyways up to the stairs for the flats, which were a rabbit run for anyone wanted to get through quickly, and also where the wind would whip up and hurl its way through.

I went to the church playgroup for a little while – it wasn’t for long as Mum said we couldn’t afford it after a while.  I enjoyed it there, and remember a lovely puppet show one time with loads of colour and laughter and a good tea after.  I went to big school when I was five.  I missed the first day of school because me Mum was taking her driving test.  If she could drive the car she could try and get a better job but that didn’t happen unfortunately.  If you have kids don’t let them miss the first day – it is a nightmare.  Everyone else had already made loads of new friends and were in clumps and it took me a while to settle down.  Thankfully some other kids from the estate were there and I joined in with them.  We loved playing games on the estate. 

Hopscotch was always a favourite – the lanes between the houses that were ideal for a hopscotch pitch, and at the end of the row where the houses turned right into another row there was a “square”, with the garages running on the other two sides.  That was a great meeting place and we played mother may I, British bull dog, tennis, penalties and everything in that square. 

Gun game though was our favourite.  Steve, one of the lads had an air rifle and the idea was that you would have one person with the gun, who had to find all the others, who would go all over the estate hiding, and “shoot” them. 

Thankfully they didn’t use the actual pellets – just pretend.  We only used the pellets to shoot the pigeons. There would be loads of us – sometimes a good 30 or so of us that would run around.  We caused chaos.  We would run around the field, through the lanes by the stairs of the flats and all over the place. 

The vicars house and garden was at the end of the estate, protected by a big wall – that didn’t stop us though and we would regularly climb the wall and hide in their garden too, or run over the tops of the garages – you could get through the vicars garden there as well and along the back to the next road.  The whole of the area from the end of the next road and the estate were all allowed in the game.  How many times we played it I couldn’t tell you – thousands and it would go on for hours. 

Another one of my best memories was the summer of 1977.  What a great year.  Ham was really into music as a punk, and formed a band with the kids from next door.  They used to practice at ours most of the time – Ham was lucky he had his own bedroom.  He painted it black – completely black all over.  He spent hours up there, playing his guitar and would make up his own music, and record it on a reel to reel.  I loved listening to them – it didn’t matter what the music was.  I loved it all the same.  Music was always on in the house with the radio, usually tuned to Radio 1 and gathering around the telly on a Thursday night to catch the latest on Top of the Pops. Ham’s favourites were The Sex Pistols, The Jam, David Bowie and Lou Reed – quite a mixture really.  I preferred Abba personally, and had been given an blank cassette that I could use to record off the radio, especially the Top Forty on a Sunday that I loved playing over and over again and singing away to, and always made sure I kept Abba at the beginning of the tape to keep it on there – that’s the Name of The Game!!!  I knew the words to loads of their songs.

“Here Jac” he said to me one day (Jac that’s me, short for Jackie). “come and stick this needle through me ear.”

“You what?” I said.

“Listen, all you have to do is put it through my ear okay?”

“But what about the blood?”

“It’ll be okay.  I’ve put the needle on the boil and then I’m freezing me ear with these ice cubes see? That will make it go numb and you can put the needle through.  I can’t see what I’m doing otherwise.”

He sat on a chair in the kitchen.  The Eagles “Hotel California” was playing on the radio. The needle was in a saucepan bubbling away on the cooker, which was an old gas cooked with the grill that stuck out on the top.  The first problem was trying to get the needle out of the hot water without burning myself in the process – not an easy task.  I used a spoon to help get a grip of it, and eventually managed to get hold of the end of it, poking above the water.  It was really hot.  Ham held the ice cubes – one each side of his ear lobe.  “Come on then, get on with it.” he said “I haven’t got all day.”

“I haven’t done this before.” I replied, scared out of my wits.

“I didn’t think you would have.” he joked back.

I held my hand with the needle up to his ear lobe.  I counted down, “3, 2, 1 Now!” and with a shout rammed the needle through his ear.  A spurt of blood came out – I screamed – and promptly fainted on the floor. 

“Come on you idiot” I heard when I started to come round.  I wasn’t sure for a minute what had gone on.

“At least I only wanted one side done.”

Ham was always asking me to do things for him, but this one was the strangest so far – it wasn’t to be the last either.

Thinking of the kitchen always makes me remember the washing machine.  It had a habit of walking across the floor – literally - when it was spinning.
Whoever was around when it was on had to sit on it, to try to add some weight.  It used to have a fit.  Still least we had a washing machine – Tina next door didn’t have one at all – they had to go up the laundrette.  The kitchen, like the whole house was pretty basic, but comfortable.  The kitchen was brown and orange, with a twirly pattern on the wall paper and bright orange tiling, and brown was a regular theme throughout the house.

It was just before the Jubilee – the Queens Silver Jubilee.  June 1977.  The whole estate went mad with all the preparations – it was so much fun.  Round the back of the block across the road was a big open tarmac area, which was surrounded by garages – it was at least 60 yards across and this was the main area that was being used.  There was red, white and blue bunting all over the place and union jacks.  There were people everywhere. 

Unfortunately I used to get bronchitis regularly – I had had pneumonia as a baby, and wasn’t very strong with my lungs and whenever it was hot or very cold I used to cough all the time.  I had got used to it over the years, going back each time to the doctors for the banana medicine when it wouldn’t stop.  The timing though wasn’t good this time.  Yes on the jubilee I was bad.  There were loads of races going on, like the three legged race, egg and spoon race, sack race and throwing games, and everyone had to go and get their Space Hoppers for a Hopper race, but I couldn’t take part.  I sat on the side in a chair wrapped up watching everything that was going on.  There was colour everywhere and laughter – I enjoyed it even if I couldn’t run.  It was so funny watching everyone falling over and being stupid, especially on the Hopper race! 

I got to dress up for the fancy dress though and came second in the youngster’s category as Rupert the Bear of all things.  I had some bright yellow jeans that I had actually been bought – not just a hand me down from Dawnie – wearing a red top with a checked scarf that Dawnie had – she was a big fan of the Bay City Rollers having their posters on the wall, watching Shang-a-Lang on the telly and everything.  To finish off the look I had two furry ears that went over my own ones that one of the kids on the estate Mum did for me.  She used to make toys and was great at making ones of the Wombles – I had Tobermory and Madame Cholet. 

Dawnie loved watching Shang-a-Lang but didn’t get to see it very much as she was the only one that did.  I preferred Saturdays Multi-coloured Swap Shop, but always had to fight for the right to the telly with Ham and Suze wanting Tiswas – although thankfully some of the time they would be out so I could get to see Swap Shop instead. 

Anyway, getting back to the Jubilee, when the games were over we had a big tea.  Loads of tables had been collected from loads of the houses, and were put together in long rows with special union jack tablecloths.  All the kids sat down and joined in with the adults making sure we were sharing.  There must have been a couple of hundred kids there – it was the maddest tea I had ever been to!  There were jam sandwiches, and crisps and Swiss rolls that had been cut up and jelly and fairy cakes – we felt like we were kings and queens that day.

I’m still not sure how it happened, but the rumour was that there was a bloke that was going out with a lady on the estate who was in the music business and in the evening we had a free concert by Mud!  Yes the Mud.  They were huge!  I mean “Tiger Feet” was the biggest selling British single of 1974 and they had had 7 singles in the top 40 in 1975 – and we, we of the lowly council estate, had them perform at our Jubilee concert.  It was talked about for years and “oh boy” to state their records it was “crazy”.

I was allowed to get up and dance a bit and join in the fun until exhausted I was carried off home to bed.  It was one of the best days of my life.

It was just before the summer holidays when Bond fever really struck with everyone going mad about the new film coming out – the Spy Who Loved Me.  It was being released on the 7th July – the 7th day of the 7th month of 1977 – how cool was that.  Big arguments ensued as to whether the better Bond was Sean Connery or Roger Moore – it was definitely a tough choice.  Goldfinger was widely argued as the best Bond film of all time – well until then anyway and Sean Connery was therefore the number one Bond – but was that about to change with the new film?  We were eager to get to see it – and thankfully it was an A rated, so as long as a parent came with you, you were okay.