As I’ve said elsewhere, my childhood was close to idyllic, at least until I hit twelve or so. Of course, I didn’t realise that at the time: to me it was just how things were, and that included the fact that as a family, we went through cycles of having quite a lot of money then really not much at all. As the only child of my father’s second marriage, I wasn’t exactly spoiled, but I was very much indulged, which could be seen as much the same thing. My parents treated me as a smaller equal, for which I’m eternally grateful as it instilled in me a sense of maturity way beyond my years. I don’t actually remember this, but in later years my mother told me that almost every night when he came home from work, my father would change clothes, take me in his lap and read to me from the Daily Mirror – he was a lifelong socialist, and how I never became a rabid Labour supporter is something of a mystery… but that’s partly responsible for my ability to read at a very early age. Certainly I could read before I went to primary school, and I distinctly recall having my own “workbook”, something few others in the class did… but again, I thought nothing of this: it was just how things were. It wasn’t really until I went to grammar school that I really began to understand that how things were for me wasn’t invaribly how it was for everyone else.
Outside of school, I primarily amused myself, and I just loved that, but better still was when my father took me on long walks in the countryside and opened my eyes to the many beauties of nature. He was a consummate countryman, and a little rubbed off on me. He also taught me to shoot at a ridiculously – and probably illegal – early age: by ten I had my own single action .410 shotgun, and knew how to use it properly. He was also a fount of local knowledge and history, thus a walk around town was never less than informative. I recall especially his talking about the famous local cricketer “Silver” Billy Beldham as if he knew him, and it came as something of a shock to discover that Beldham died in 1862… but when I put this to dad, he just smiled and said “did I ever say I knew him, boy ?”. And of course, he hadn’t, just given that impression.
These golden days came to an end, of course: I was growing older and girls were becoming more and more interesting, and exams began to assume an increasing importance. But still, a wonderful time.
29/12/22
