Fred’s memories: Margaret Harris
Margaret Harris was my best friend from across the road in Cecil Street. Born in Pensnett she lived with her gran who was my mother’s best friend – a lady who seemed to take in many people who were, shall we say, in need of help. One boy who lived there was always shaking. We called it sleeping sickness in those days. He needed help even to turn the pages of the book he was reading, and to have his legs crossed and uncrossed too. I guess she was very kind.
One event which stuck in my mind was when Margaret and I, who did everything together, were going out for a day. Normally each of our mothers made our sandwiches to take with us. On this occasion Margaret’s gran had made egg sandwiches and she asked if I would like some. I said yes, but was astonished to find that she had given the yolks to Margaret and the whites to me. I loved yolks and was quite upset by this. Funny what things stick in your mind.
Like the time when I was asked at school what my father’s name was.
“Ted” I said.
The teacher kept on asking me what was his real name. I’d always known my dad as Ted and couldn’t understand what she meant. I was really annoyed at that. I was about four at the time. What a thing to ask a four year old. It’s stuck in my mind though.
When I went to the Girls’ High School Margaret and I saw each other less and less. I wonder what happened to her.