On the 13th July 1958 I wrote to Edna about an interesting conversation with Abdul which showed the problems faced by foreign students, “Abdul came round to see me last night, he stayed until 1am that’s why I was nearly late for work this morning. We had a very serious discussion about girls and life in general. I’m afraid Abdul is a very worried young man; it’s his engagement he’s worrying about. After all it isn’t a very nice position to be in he hasn’t seen her for three years and will not for another two years. He is worried stiff about how things will turn out. He isn’t sure of his feelings now and obviously a person can change a lot in three years. As he said, “ she may weigh a ton now!”
Having typed the above I stared at it for a few minutes thinking, “Whatever happened to Abdul?” I last saw him in Birmingham in 1971. On an impulse I typed his name into Google. To my amazement up popped a website with his email address on, the link was to some message boards; only two months ago he was asking for contact with several of his old University friends and my name was there. I banged off an email immediately to Kuala Lumpur. I was absolutely delighted when a reply came back within a couple of days. We are now in touch again after all these years and that has made writing these memories worthwhile to me for that reason alone. He emailed me with an amusing story, “Before I forget, you mentioned about Bob Cross. Do you remember the night I chased him and some others including Keith (as they were returning to the digs after our dinner at the Rickshaw and I was returning to Crewe Hall) up across Weston Park with the lake. They had planned to let loose the boats but I pretended not to hear about their plan. I quickly took another route and ran after them, shouting and pretending to be the park warden. They all ran and I saw for sure Bob sprinted like a 100m runner as well as a hurdler as he jumped at full stretch over the wrought iron fencing. The iron uprights tore his pants and cut his balls! It was my turn to run away from the scene. Were you there, too? Honestly, I was very worried that night and couldn't sleep. I kept thinking Bob might have been killed. I was in the studio very early the next morning, anxiously waiting for the outcome of the night's adventure. Do you know what? Bob walked in with a fag in his mouth, breathed out smoke as if nothing had happened! Ask him if he remembers this episode Bill. It happened in 1957, our 2nd year.” I cannot remember this episode but as Keith, Abdul and I did every thing together it’s almost certain I was there. I spoke to Bob on the phone and he remembered the Weston Park incident vividly and added some further details. When he had disentangled himself from the railings he immediately realized he was injured. The next morning he set off to walk to Hospital, which was quite a way. It was on Eccleshall road past the Rickshaw heading into the City. He said he was staggering along like a bow legged jockey! When he got there a young nurse took him into a cubicle for inspection. He dropped his trousers and at the sight of all the blood and gore she promptly fainted on the spot, with Bob groaning on the bed. They stitched him up but apparently never cleaned him up and kicked him out. He had to go back several times for check ups and was very relieved when the finally discharged him. It didn’t do him any terminal harm; he has produced a couple of kids since!
Around this time Edna had written to me expressing concern over her moods, writing, “I am worse than most women.” I replied wearing my amateur psychologists hat, “How difficult I had found it soon after moving into flats with my old school friends over two years previously. One of them had been really moody and I had got very irritated, “but of course I couldn’t possibly get irritated with you. Keith sometimes could get grumpy when he was fed up but as he was a naturally friendly person I could accept that.” I carried on serenely with the flow, “I don’t profess to be perfect at all times by any means.” Now there’s a surprise. The letter carried on to talk about an engagement later that year and marriage when I had finished at Sheffield possibly in late 1960 after I had found a job.
I was still trying to play sport as much as I could. There were regular references to going to a gym to play indoor football. I have no memory at all now where that gym was. Abdul was a keen badminton and tennis player and we had some games. There were also some cricket nets and in August that year I noted Keith, Abdul and I were going down to practice. Abdul had good hand eye co-ordination. I don’t think cricket is big in Malaya but he soon picked it up.
In the middle of August I finished the job in Sheffield with great relief and Edna came over to Little Hulton for a ten-day holiday. We had a trip over to Blackpool. She liked it, there was certainly plenty to see and do. Whilst she was over we went to the wedding of my cousin Sheila to Charlie Horton. They were married at St. Charles church, Swinton and the reception was held at the Robin Hood pub in Pendlebury. Edna returned home to get ready for her new life in Worksop starting in early September. I started another job in the parcels Department at London Road Station, Manchester earning the princely sum of £7 per week. I was delighted to get it and wrote, “We are as good as engaged by Christmas now.” I did that for about six weeks and obviously was still trying to save up for that ring. I was feeling low on the 29th September saying I only had saved £15 towards the ring. Apparently my pay per week at the parcels office was only £4-50 shillings. There was one odd lad who seemed to attach himself to me. Perhaps because he knew I was a student, he kept telling me he read Freud and spoke about psychoanalysis. One afternoon he cornered me and said, “I’m a very dangerous man, I’m a paranoic.” He got the medical description wrong but I kept out of his way after that. One afternoon I was given the task of sweeping all the station platforms. Only a few years before I had been standing on the same platforms train spotting, I looked at the spotters there with envy. Whilst I was at home during this period Mother kept inviting people home for tea, Mrs Cartwright and Anne, Frank and Ruth his girlfriend, May and Johnny all came at different times. Lots of letters to Edna during this period describing my boring job humping parcels around, there was still time to tell her about a particularly exciting match at Burnden Park between Bolton and Arsenal, I bet she was thrilled. (Bolton won 2-1, so there!)
During the holidays her father had taken her up to Worksop to find accommodation and a room was found living with a family Mr and Mrs Mallender at 56 Potter Street. Driving back home he said what a nice family and how friendly the man had been. His assessment wasn’t too good as Edna was to find out. She moved into the house on the 7th September and wrote to me that evening. They had three children aged two, four and six and they were rather a pain, it wasn’t the best of starts. There was a servant girl who had been there a week and had already given her notice in. She had a chat with Edna and said she didn’t enjoy the sound of Mr Mallender beating up his wife! The prospects were looking bad on the first day. At least the next day her first at school went well and she soon made a good friend in Lorna Ogley the new PE. Teacher. Lorna was to remain a friend for the rest of her life. First impressions of all the staff were very good; they were a mainly young lively bunch, pity about the flat!
She lasted around three weeks in Potter Street. There were increasing difficulties with the kids who she described as “brats” and even worse with Mr Mallender. At the end of the first week she put an advert in the local Post office seeking accommodation elsewhere. Early the second week things were getting nasty, she had whacked one of the kids and Mr M. was threatening to hit her. He stood outside her room screaming, “You can get out tomorrow.” There were furious rows between him and his wife going on well into the night and Edna wasn’t sleeping. By the 23rd Sept she had made contact with an old lady called Mrs White who was offering accommodation at 303 Carlton Road. Edna liked her immediately and accepted. The cost was 35 shillings per week, excluding any food and included a bedroom upstairs and a lounge downstairs with small kitchen off. There was an outside toilet but no bathroom. Mrs White spent most of the day at her son’s house about two minutes away; she said Edna could go there anytime she wanted a bath. Edna asked about her boyfriend visiting, Mrs White said she wouldn’t object to a “man” but would to “men.” Two nights before she left Potter Street there was a particularly violent row going on and she heard Mr Mallender say, “Right I’m not sleeping with you tonight, I’m going upstairs to sleep with Edna.” Big panic, he didn’t attempt it thankfully She finally with great relief left the Mallenders on the 27th September and moved over to the lovely Mrs White. What a contrast, she turned out to be an absolute treasure.
