I keep in touch with many people through Facebook these days; cousins Garry & Janice Steel being no exception. They are the Essex branch of my extended cousinhood:
Point is; Garry wrote a very touching reminiscence piece on Facebook the other day, which is very much in keeping with Ogblog. I asked him if I might publish it as a guest piece here. Garry said yes.
I have played fast and loose with the headline above (publisher’s prerogative) but the words below are reproduced verbatim. I think it is a lovely piece.
My 100 Year Old Dinner Lady
======================It can be uncanny how a chance meeting, in my case acrimonious tussle with authority, can lead to a lifetime connection and create a dear friendship.
I go back to a day in 1964; I was a 7 year old schoolboy at Hamlet Court Road primary, long since replaced by a car park. On this day, mum decided I was to stay for school dinner.
For those of us over the age of 50, maybe younger, there is no need to describe the culinary obscenities of school meals in the 60’s. Needless to say, they wouldn’t meet Jamie Oliver’s standards.
Having managed to keep the main course down I returned to the hatch for dessert. Since infancy I have had a medical intolerance to milk. I asked the server to omit the regulation portion of thick-skinned custard but was told the serving was mandatory. All diners had to eat it without option to decline. Shock, horror. Was I about to project the custard?!
Here comes the dinner lady from hell. I was not allowed to leave the dining hall until I had consumed that congealed mass in the bowl. Just me and her left in the hall. The other few hundred or so kids had already returned to class. Ms dinner lady accompanied me to my classroom, bowl in hand. Strict instruction was given to my teacher. “He is not allowed home until he eats his custard”.
Come 4pm, just me and the teacher, staring at this solidified mass in the bowl on the desk. I didn’t give in.
Here’s a thing; mum had been waiting for me at the gate since half past three. No one told her I’d been held “prisoner”. Eventually there was a door slam and in comes mum faster than an Exocet missile. Her arm was cocked ready to give me a thick ear, or worse and I was willing to take the pain rather than eat that custard.
Thankfully, mum noticed the plate on the desk before making contact. She quickly put 2 + 2 together. I can’t repeat the language directed at the teacher. Let’s say I had the last laugh. I never met Ms dinner lady at school again.
Move on fourteen years. Janice and I got engaged and her parents threw a party for us. Mum-in-law beckoned me over. “Let me introduce you to my best friend, Alice Fraser”. (Got it yet?)
Arghhhh……There she was, Ms dinner lady. Our eyes locked. Despite the transition from boy to man of 21, she instantly recognised me and vice versa. “You forced me to eat custard”, I said. She retorted, “it wasn’t me, the headmaster made me do it.”
We had a laugh. I got to meet Alice and her husband Ralph many times over the years. They came to my wedding and many family events. I realised Alice was a sweet, intelligent lady.
Sadly my in-laws have passed, The Frasers retired and moved to London to be near their children. Alice has kept in touch by phone many times and continues to do so. She is compassionate and her tone conveys genuine interest in our wellbeing. On the last call she mentioned to me that she had a birthday coming up. “Guess how old I’m going to be”, she said. I thought it had to be an amazing achievement but feigned my reply. “You must be in your eighties now”. “I’m going to be A-hun-dreddd”, she said. “Wow, can I come and see you?” “Oh, I’d love that”, she said.
A few days later an official invitation arrived from Alice’s sprightly young septuagenarian daughter inviting us to Alice’s 100th birthday party. Janice and I went last Sunday. Ralph has passed on but it was an honour to meet up with Alice again. Also to meet her extended family including eleven great grandchildren.
And what did she say to Janice? “He’s never forgiven me for that custard”! Oh yes I have.
