Forecasters are predicting that tomorrow, Monday, we are in for some
pretty nasty weather. Right now though it’s just a bit breezy and there’s spit
or two of rain in the air.
Our day had an interesting start, after what we thought was a
relatively late brekky we took the train down to Surrey Quays to do a bit of
shopping. Unusually for that time of the day, almost 1200, there was a crowd of
trolley pushers lining up to get into the Mall through the large revolving
doors.
When The Man asked one of the security guards what it was all about he
said that it was always like that at opening time. We must have looked a bit
puzzle because he went on to add that daylight saving time had ended and the
clocks had been put back last night.
There was a definite sound of a penny or two dropping…
So with plenty of time to spare The Man and I found a comfy seat in the
nearest Starbucks and wiled whiled it away over latte and muffins.
I’ve been reading an interesting book called ‘Silvertown, An East End
Family Memoir’ by Melanie McGrath.
Silvertown is the registration district listed on my father’s birth
certificate.
This industrial district sits on the north bank of the Thames; it was
named after Samuel Winkwoth Silver’s rubber factory.
McGrath’s account of the day of her grandmother’s seventeenth birthday left
me speechless, I expect it will do the same to you…
After work that day Janey (the grandmother) is taken out by Sarah (her
mother), but not for a pleasant evenings celebration. After a bit of a walk
Sarah leads Janey to a dirty shop and leaves her there in the less than capable
hands of the shop owner.
The stout man…goes to the back of
the front door and takes down a butcher’s apron.
It takes three hours to pull out
all the teeth in Jane Fulchers mouth. Three-quarters of a century later she
will still recall the head-popping splintering, like the sound of the earth
cracking open. She will remember the blood and ruby spittle and the fragments
of tooth falling from her lips, the mouth jammed with metal and the butcher’s
foot on her chest as he digs out the molars. The pain begins a slow howl somewhere
beneath or behind her stomach, which leaks into her extremities and finally wraps
itself around her like seaweed, dragging her down into the pitch dark of nightmares.
The butcher’s favourite tool for
this operation is a monkey wrench, more commonly used for unscrewing rivets and
rusty bolts. There is no anaesthetic. Jane is strapped into the chair with
docker’s belts. Every so often an old woman appears and offers her a jar of cheap
hooch and tells her to drink deep and stop making a fuss.
about a month after her birthday a comment by her friend Dora stuns her.
… Janey isn’t sure she
understands. Does Dora think that Sarah and Frenchie (Janeys father) had their daughters
teeth removed to save her future husband money?
Her friend looks at her with a mixture
of astonishment and guilt.
Well why d’yer think?...
Such a rite of passage must have been all too common back then.
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