Twenty Days Of Summer Holiday Work During Which Grandma Anne Died, 10 to 29 August 1981

After the frenzied weekend during which I showed my Keele friends, Sim & Tim, my weird world…

…a rather sedate week of work with very few socials thrown in: lunch with Caroline (Freeman, now Curtis) on the Tuesday and dinner at Anil (Biltoo)’s place on Saturday evening.

“Lazyish day” on the Saturday would have mostly comprised watching the third day of the Old Trafford Ashes test on the TV, much as “relaxing evenings” on the two preceding days would have included hunkering down in front of the old B&W TV in the tiny spare room to watch the highlights.

My faint memory only recalls that Saturday as “Ian Botham going berserk, scoring runs for fun, all-but winning the match for England, as usual”, because, to the youthful me, that was an unremarkable norm in the summer of 1981. The Ridiculous Ashes podcast provides more detail on that match and that day, in particular the contrasting sloth of Chris Tavaré that day. Scorecard ? – the match panned out like this.

Then, on the Sunday, what turned out to be our last visit to Feld’s Restaurant for lunch with Grandma Anne. If you want to know more about Feld’s, I “reviewed” Feld’s “Restaurant” in an earlier Ogblog piece:

I probably discussed the cricket with Mr Feld that day, as was our wont by that time. Feld might even have been listening to the match on his transistor radio behind the counter, as Day Four of this match was played on the Sunday – an experimental thing for some of the tests that year, I believe.

There is no doubt in my mind that Grandma Anne will have implored Mr Feld to shake the borscht jar, eaten her last plate of borscht that day and that she would have berated Mr Feld with the phrase, “your borscht tastes like vorter today” had the borscht not been up to snuff…which, frankly, it almost certainly wasn’t.

As the diary scribbles attest, Grandma Anne was taken into hospital in the early hours of the following Tuesday morning. Apart from a dinner at Anil’s on the Thursday and dinner with Michael and Pam on Saturday (who were no doubt primarily in the area visiting Grandma), my life was all work and visiting Grandma for a few days.

Forty years on, I have written a reflective piece about Grandma Anne’s last visit to hospital for ThreadMash:

Here’s what I wrote in the diary for the following few days:

Sunday 23 August 1981 – Went to hospital – bad news – returned – back to hospital – G. Anne died.

Monday 24 August 1981 – Went round sorting out admin side. Met Uncle Michael – returned home.

Tuesday 25 August 1981 – Lavoyah (funeral) & shivah (mourning) today – tiring and gruelling.

Wednesday 26 August 1981 – Back to work – too much of – did little in evening.

Thursday 27 August 1981 – Met Jilly [Black] for lunch. Spoke to several people in evening.

Friday 28 August 1981 – Nothing special for b’day – work as usual – slap up meal in evening.

Saturday 29 August 1981 – Lazy day – went to Grandma Jenny for lunch – shopped a little – lazy evening.

At that time Grandma Jenny still lived in Sandhurst Court on the Acre Lane in Brixton. I’m pretty sure that shopping spree was “down Brixton Market” to gather some bottles and jars of condiments to take back to Keele with me in a few weeks’ time, in order to try and perk up the otherwise rather bland weekend diet.

When Worlds Collided And A Crazy Social Whirl Resulted: My Keele Friends Sim & Tim’s Weekend To The Alleyn’s & BBYO Version of London, 7 to 9 August 1981

Photo: PAUL FARMER / The Crown and Greyhound Dulwich Village (aka The Dog)

My diary, from forty years ago as I write, tells me that this was one crazy weekend, during which I zig-zagged my visiting Keele friends, Sim & Tim (Simon Ascough & Tim Woolley), hither and yon across London for a couple of days.

I had been spending a fair amount of time with those two towards the end of that academic year, much of it in the Student’s Union snooker room:

Sim was from Doncaster and Tim was from Moseley, South Birmingham. I have an inkling that they had never been to London before…or at least “not visited a Londoner” before.

Reading my diary and assessing the activities I inflicted upon them, they might have formed a lifelong skewed opinion on what London life is like. I’m not sure I had a weekend quite like it before or since.

Friday 7 August 1981 – A Mini Pub Crawl Following In My Alleyn’s School Footsteps

Fox On the Hill Jwslubbock, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0g

7 August – Work OK – Sim & Tim arrived -> ate -> Fox -> Dog -> met Mark from Keele -> his place ’till late

Mum will have given us all a hearty family meal on the Friday evening ahead of the mini pub crawl. I cannot remember whether we did all of our dashing around London by car or by public transport. I think it must have been the former; if so it must have been Tim who had a car with him.

That first evening, I wanted to show Sim & Tim the places I used to drink with my friends before I went to Keele. The Fox On the Hill (aka The Fox) on Denmark Hill and The Crown & Greyhound (aka The Dog) in Dulwich Village. I thought we might bump in to a few old friends from Alleyn’s in at least one of those places, but that didn’t happen.

Indeed, my most vibrant memory from that whole visit was my embarrassment in The Fox when, for the first time ever, the barman questioned whether I was old enough to buy drinks in the pub.

I remember feeling like saying…

…but I’ve been buying drinks in this pub for years…since I was fifteen… and no-one has ever questioned it before…

…but I feared that such an admission might prevent me from being served or get me barred, so I simply asserted myself as a University student down after my first year at Uni and had my word accepted.

No ID cards for pub-going youngsters in those days. Why The Fox had started asking questions all of a sudden back then I have no idea – perhaps they had experienced some youngster trouble since my previous visit.

As for “Mark from Keele” whom we met in The Dog, I’m not sure which Mark this might have been. I don’t think it was Mark Bartholomew – perhaps it was a mate of either Sim or Tim’s who lived in or near Dulwich and was named Mark.

Diary says we didn’t return to my parents house until late – in fact I am trying to work out what the sleeping arrangements might have been. There was a studio couch in the small (fourth) bedroom which was ample for one sleeping visitor but would not have been comfortable for a couple, let alone two individual sleepers. Perhaps one of them slept on the floor in a sleeping bag.

Saturday 8 August 1981

The Saturday really was a crazy day of haring around town. Allow me to translate that diary note – I needed a bright light, a magnifier and a cold towel around my head to work it all out:

8 August – Earlyish start -> Knightsbridge -> Notting Hill -> Soho – met Mark Lewis -> Ivor’s -> eats -> Hendon -> Ivor’s -> home (knackered).

Frankly, I’m knackered just reading about that day.

I’m hoping that this article will help me to track down either Sim or Tim or both of them – perhaps their memories of this day will help me to unpick it.

I suspect that we went to Knightsbridge because one (or both) of them had a crazy craving to see that place, with its Harrods & Harvey Nicks reputation.

Possibly the same applied to Notting Hill and Soho. Possibly I encouraged the Notting Hill idea, as it was, even by then, a place with a hold on my heart, not least for the second hand record stores, which I had been visiting for a few years by then.

What we got up to in Soho I have no idea. Given that, whatever it was, we did it with my old BBYO friend and now media law supremo Mark Lewis, I suggest that readers keep their baseless allegations to themselves.

I’m not even sure whether Mark joined us on our subsequent BBYO-alums crawl to visit Ivor [Heller, in Morden, where I had enjoyed warm hospitality for many years]…

…then Hendon, where I imagine we visited Melina Goldberg, as I don’t recall staying in touch with anyone else from that BBYO group…

…then back to Ivor’s – why the diary doesn’t say – perhaps Ivor had organised a bit of a gathering of old friends from Streatham BBYO – it wouldn’t have been the first time nor the last.

Sunday 9 August 1981 – Lunch & Then Wendy’s Place Before Sim & Tim Left London

Took it easy in morning -> lunch -> Wendy’s -> Sim & Tim left, I returned home & slept a lot!

What a bunch of wimps. We’d hardly done anything the day before.

Anyway…

…I’m sure mum would have wanted the visitors to have another hearty, home-cooked meal before heading off – otherwise what might they think of us?

Eat, eat…

Then on to Wendy (Robbins)’s place, in Bromley, for a final visit of the weekend.

Not sure whether any of the other Streatham BBYO people were there. Andrea possibly, Ivor possibly…

…in any case, Bromley is probably not the ideal location out of all the places we visited that weekend from which to head back to Birmingham and Doncaster on a Sunday afternoon – but those logistical details matter a lot less to 18/19 year olds than they do to me, forty years on, re-treading the tangled maze of visits that was our London odyssey that weekend.

Goodness only knows what Sim & Tim made of it at the time, nor what they might make of it now, if they see this piece and are reminded of the weekend. I’d be delighted if others, e.g. Sim and/or Tim, got in touch with their memories to help me enhance this Ogblog piece. If they do, I’ll publish a postscript.

Please help fill in the blanks.

More Work, Rest, Play, Including Some Record Buying & Rescuing Grandma Anne From The Nightingale, 22 July to 2 August 1981

The Nightingale – photo by Ewan Munro from London, UK, CC BY-SA 2.0

Lunch seemed to be the most important part of my working life back then. At least, it was the most recorded item in the diary about my working days.

Wednesday 22 July 1981 – work not too bad – met Caroline [Freeman, now Curtis] for lunch…

…Friday 25 July 1981 – Met Karen [Davies] for lunch…

etc.

Andrea Dean came over on that Saturday.

-> pub etc. Stayed night.

I’ll guess that we met up with several of the Streatham BBYO crowd in that pub. Possibly The Horse & Groom, possibly The Greyhound or possibly The Pied Bull.

I went to see Grandma Anne on that Sunday (26th July) while she was still in Nightingale temporarily on a respite care/check it out basis.

Wednesday 29th July 1981 was Royal Wedding Day – that’s the Charles & Di wedding. I love my diary entry on the matter:

Royal Wedding day – off work. Lazy day not watching wedding.

I wasn’t looking

On Saturday 1 August…

Went to RTE [Record & Tape Exchange] with Paul [Deacon] in day – successful trip…

I have no pictures of such visits to the exchange shops with Paul from those days, but the following picture is a “reconstruction” from Paul’s memory lane visit with me in 2017

Paul studying singles with his game face on, while I peruse the albums – just like in the old days

I think the following chunk from my RTE listings is the batch I bought that day:

Some stuff that I wouldn’t boast about now and/or that hasn’t dated well in that lot, but two of my all time favourite albums in that batch: Germfree Adolescents by X-Ray Spex…

…and Kimono My House by Sparks.

The diary entry for 2 August contains some mystery and does not adequately report the most memorable story of the day:

Mark Stevens dropped in. Got Grandma out of home – reinstated in flat. Paul [Deacon] popped over in eve.

I don’t remember why Mark Stevens dropped in on a Sunday morning. Perhaps Mark remembers.

There was a story to getting Grandma Anne out of Nightingale, though.

TED 'KID' LEWIS - Nightingale House Nightingale Lane Balham London SW12 8NB

I remember this very clearly. We turned up to collect Grandma but she was nowhere to be found. She’d been staying at Nightingale for a few weeks, so we knew where she tended to hang out and where her room was…no joy.

Dad got quite worried and stressy.

We started asking people at random, until one person casually said, “I think she’s gone down the pub with Sid”.

This did not sound like Grandma Anne.

I doubt if she had ever, in her nearly 90 years by then, been in a pub before.

I scurried to The Nightingale, where indeed Grandma Anne was sitting with her new gentleman friend, quite oblivious to the fact that her respite stay was over and that she had an appointment to return to her flat with us.

Equally, she seemed nonchalant about simply saying goodbye to her new gentleman friend and zimmering slowly back to Nightingale with me.

“Pub, shmub”

A couple of weeks later, Grandma Anne was taken ill. She died three weeks after her impromptu pub outing. That event, which might have been her first pub visit, was also her last hurrah.

Chant No 137, A Memory Flash Of New Romance, When Keele Concourse And Sloane Square Collided, From The Summer Of 1981

With thanks to Mick Hough for sparking my memory with this picture

I grew up riding the 137 bus for various reasons. We lived in Woodfield Avenue, Streatham, near the Sternhold Avenue 137 stop.

As a young child, it was mostly to go to primary school (Rosemead, then on Atkins Road) or to visit my Grandma Jenny who lived in Acre Lane, a short walk from a 137 stop.

A bit later, when I was at Keele University but doing holiday jobs in Cavendish Square, the 137 became my route of choice. It was one bus all the way from Sternhold Avenue. I could sit up top, read lots of stuff while being transported and smoke a few cigarettes while so doing…at least in those early years before I saw sense and stopped smoking.

Carcharoth, CC BY-SA 4.0

In the summer of 1981, I had an additional secret pleasure in the 137 bus journey home, on those rare occasions (only once or twice a week) when I went straight home from work at a civilised hour.

When the bus approached Sloane Square I would stop reading and take a good long look at the New Romantics who had made it their habit to congregate early evening in Sloane Square, in what I might describe as a pose-fest.

Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-1984-1018-012 / CC BY-SA 3.0 DE

For those unfamiliar with the genre…and for those who would like their memories refreshed…by the summer of 1981 the following sound and video rather encapsulates (at least to me) the sound track of that summer and the (to the likes of me) unattainable style/swagger of the New Romantic fashion:

When Keele Met Sloane

On one occasion, a sunny early evening, I suspended my reading and eagerly awaited sight of Sloane Square and what I expected to be a large collection of New Romantics to observe.

Yes, there they were…

…but wait…

…I know those two! The unmistakable visages of fellow Keele students, Owen Gavin and Paul Rennie.

Paul Rennie and Owen Gavin were definitely among the trendy students at Keele; Owen for example had recently taken over as editor of Concourse, the student newspaper for which I was writing juvenilia along the following lines:

…but I had no idea that Paul and Owen had Sloane Square credentials in trendiness.

The 137 bus goes very slowly around Sloane Square in the evening, so I did consider waving and hollering out of the window at the pair of them.

But New Romantics wouldn’t want to be associated with a boy on a bus, would they? It would be different if I was driving around the square in a flashy sports car dressed like Tony Hadley from Spandau Ballet.

So I just watched in awe, as the statuesque figures of Owen and Paul mingled effortlessly and seamlessly with the New Romantic throng.

To be fair on those two, on reflection, they might well have been curious tourists observing the genre, rather than formal participants.

Actually, I don’t suppose such fashion has formal participants. Almost everyone there was probably just wandering along to have a look, see what there was to be seen and enjoy the moment of being seen.

I had and still have no idea.

Owen Gavin, Louise Marshall (Gray), Paul Rennie & Chris Parkins, early 1980s, with thanks to Chris Parkins for the picture.

So what became of those two? Did they remain cultural icons?

Well, it turns out, yes.

Forty plus years later, I find Dr Paul Rennie listed and pictured on the books of Central St Martins, an expert in Graphic Communication Design.

(Just in case anything becomes of that link before you see it, here’s a scrape of it.)

Owen Gavin is a little harder to find, but with a little help from my friends and Google, I learnt the following:

Respect to both of you fellas.

I was never even faintly fashionable. Here’s a picture of me around that time, curating my cassette collection in my bedroom in Streatham, a few hundred yards away from the 137 bus stop:

Fashion? I don’t need that pressure on…

Postscript: Paul Rennie Has Subsequently Been In Touch

I notified Paul of his 15 minutes of fame on Ogblog and have engaged in some very enjoyable correspondence with him since. On the specific matter of Sloane Square happenings, he writes:

I had a job, during the summer of 1981 at Sotheby’s Belgravia at the top of Sloane St. I think I was probably just hanging out, I don’t recall anything as organised as meeting up. It was all very hap-hazard as I remember.

Hence the truth of the matter at the time was far less interesting than my juvenile wonderings…but in a way that fact simply makes this piece differently interesting!