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Archive for October, 2009

<—A Change of Plan for Olga                     Sydney Comes to London 1939 —>

My Great Aunt Martha was the oldest and not at all like her sisters, Becky and Lucy, either in temperament or looks. She was a short, stout woman with a badly pockmarked face – apparently the result of chicken pox. Every now and again nature produces an offspring that bears little resemblance to either its parents or siblings, well by all accounts, that was Martha Ross.  My mother, Olga,  told that in the early part of the 1930s Aunt Martha worked as a seamstress at the Drury Lane Theatre in London.  Mum told me many times, she didn’t like her Aunt Martha.

 

Olga’s Diary (Continued)

 

Dear Diary

The wicked witch:  Aunt Martha (AM) being horrible. Very bad tempered.  There are two versions of her, the English version in Paddington (the true one) and the Jamaican version, when she’s with Mammie in Kingston  (the false one). She still says I’m eating too much and I have to eat less even though I’ve given her nearly all of my money and I don’t think I have enough to last until Sydney comes.   

She says I have to pay my way so I must clean the flat and do her washing and ironing.  Now she’s treating me like a servant. 

“You might as well wash and iron Mr Kitchen’s clothes the same time you do mine” she said.

“I’ll do your chores, because I have the time, but I’m not doing his and if you insist then I’ll write to Mammie and Sydney and tell them what you’re asking me to do” I threatened.   

 “There’s no need for that, Olga, just do mine”.  

Good job done, Olga, a small  victory and very nice it feels too. Mr Kitchen is AM’s latest “gentleman friend” and the pair of them go out drinking nearly every night.  They always come home drunk and Mr Kitchen usually stays overnight (in AM’s bedroom!) and I hear him creeping out of the front door early in the morning.  Mammie and Sydney would be shocked if they knew. 

AM says they’re engaged to be married, but I don’t think Mr Kitchen knows that. 

Wonder what the neighbours think? 

AM is cruel when she’s been drinking.  Told me that I would never get a husband.

 “No man would find someone as plain and boring as you, Olga, attractive. Where were you when God was handing out the looks”. She’s not a very nice person, you know. I know I’m not as pretty as my sisters, but Mammie says I have other qualities which are more important than looks. 

Should have said to her “where were you when God was handing out the looks”.  But that would have been unkind too and, anyway, after hearing her give Mr Kitchen a good few slaps with the frying pan the other evening, I stay in my room now when she’s been drinking. 

AM had chicken pox when she was a child and to stop her picking at the sores on her face her parents bandaged her hands.  But AM still managed to pick them and as a result her face is badly pockmarked.  She was teased a lot at school by the other children because of it and Aunt Lucy says that contributed to AM’s “effortless transition from bad tempered child to a cantankerous, mean spirited woman”.  Had to look up in the dictionary what cantankerous meant and Aunt Lucy’s got it dead right.  AM’s bad tempered and unreasonable.

To keep out of her way I spend a lot of time wandering around London and one day I was walking along Baker Street when this car hooted and when I turned round to see who it was, it was Roy McKenzie from Jamaica.   I couldn’t believe it, in fact, I didn’t even know he was in London

I immediately remembered that day when I was hanging from a tree by my knickers and felt embarrassed when we said hello, even though Aunt Lucy and Mammie had got me down from the tree before he saw me. 

 “Olga, look at you, you look good, how nice to see you”.  He seemed really pleased to see me,

He told me to hop in the car and he took me for a lovely drive around London.  He asked me what I was doing in London and how long I was staying.  I told him about the dance school and what I’d been doing since I arrived and he told me he ran a gambling and drinking club in London called the Frivolity.  He knew I had a good singing voice and asked me to come down and sing at his club now and again.  Because I had no money I was tempted.  Maybe I’ll pop down one evening I thought to myself, it might be fun.

I asked him if he thought there was going to be a war with Germany and he said he hoped not because it could be bad for his business.

He stopped the car round the corner from Chilworth Street and wrote down the address of the Frivolty on a piece of paper and handed it to me. 

He asked me how things were going with Aunt Martha and I just shrugged my shoulders.  He took out his wallet, which, by the way, was full of money, and took out one of the notes in it.

“Here, take this, but don’t tell Aunt Martha you’ve got it or she’ll talk you into giving it to her and, definitely, don’t tell her that you’ve seen me.  I’ve seen her operating in the Den of Iniquity and I don’t want her in my club.”  I looked in my hand and there was a lovely big white £5 note.  I hugged him.  I told him Sydney would be over soon and would repay him.  

“Remember, Olga, anytime you want to earn some money singing, you know where I am now”. And then he was gone.   I had such a lovely afternoon with Roy, but most of all it was comforting to know there was someone who would help me if I needed it.

 <—A Change of Plan for Olga                       Sydney Comes to London 1939 —>

 

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<—London 1939           Aunt Martha, Chilworth Street, Paddington—>

Even after all these years I still  struggle to understand how my grandmother, Becky,  thought it was safe to send my mother, Olga, to London in April 1939.   The  threat of war between Britain and Germany had not receded in spite of  Neville Chamberlain securing Adolf Hitler’s promise that he would not invade Europe further (Munich Agreement).  Newspapers in  Great Britain and Jamaica constantly referred to the threat of war.  Whenever any member of the Browney family travelled to England, they always stayed with Becky’s sister, Martha,  and Olga was no exception, although I think she wished she was!  My mother didn’t like  my Great Aunt Martha and described her a a bitter woman who lacked warmth and kindness – unlike her sisters Becky and Lucy.   But I suppose Becky thought she’d be safe with Martha and, after all, it was only for six months.

 the-browneys-tree

 

Olga’s Diary (continued)

Dear Diary 

Bad news:      I’m in despair.  Madame Verschaka’s School of Dance have written to me.

 “We do not have a place available for six months, at which time we will be delighted to accept you as a pupil.”

  That’s no good, I need a place now!  

I told Aunt Martha and she said she couldn’t afford to keep me if I was going to remain in London.  I don’t know what she means “she can’t afford to keep me” because I know Sydney gave her plenty of money to cover the cost of my stay, but she says there’s hardly any left because food is expensive and I eat a lot. 

Well, honestly, I don’t think I do, but I didn’t dare argue with her.   Thank goodness Sydney will be here soon, but I suppose I’ll have to go back to Jamaica with him.  So far my visit has been disappointing and I haven’t enjoyed myself the way Birdie does when she comes to London

  

Dear Diary 

Fed up:  Went to Trafalgar Square yesterday to feed the pigeons, but, I was in and out of that Square like a bullet. 

I sat down and as soon as I pulled out my bag of breadcrumbs, pigeons surrounded me and started pecking at my paper bag trying to get the bread out and there were lots of them around my feet  picking up the breadcrumbs – it felt like I was being attacked, so I dropped the breadcrumbs and ran. 

Now I prefer to sit here on a bench in Regent’s Park and feed the little birds, they’re much gentler.   Took my diary with me today so I could read again about my going away party in the Bournemouth Club, Kingston’s best night club. 

It was a wonderful night with the club decorated with streamers and balloons and hanging from the ceiling, strung across  the middle of the room was a whopping big sign.

 “Goodbye Olga. We’ll miss you”.  Wasn’t that nice?

There was a band and lots of food and all my friends and family laughing, joking, hugging and kissing me and giving me going away presents. 

But the biggest shock that night came from Michael Sales.  Michael was in the same class as me at Alpha Academy and he was a holy terror.  His favourite past time was putting a mirror under some of the girls’ skirts, including mine, so he could see what colour knickers we were wearing.  He nearly got expelled once for doing it and it was only because his mother pleaded with the Headmistress to give him one more chance, that he wasn’t.  Anyway, he must have learnt his lesson because he quietened down a lot and was much nicer because of it.  As a matter of fact he went out with one of my best friends, Elise Ferguson, for a while.

 But at my going away party he handed me a present with a card.  Inside, was a pair of beautiful pearl ear-rings.  No doubt about it, that is the nicest present I have ever received.

 “Olga, when you come back, I want you to be my proper girl friend.  I promise I will wait for you and I won’t go out with anyone else while you’re away” he said. 

I couldn’t believe it.  I didn’t think he liked me that much.  Boys, don’t really, you know.  They like to talk to me and tell me their problems with their girl friends, because they say I’m a good listener, but they never like me in a special way. 

My friend, Carmen Cadoza, has boys buzzing round her like bees in a honey pot and, honestly, sometimes she treats the boys like they don’t exist.  She says the secret of being successful with men is to play hard to get.  Michael was going to be my first boyfriend. I wanted to cry I was so happy, but instead I gave him a little kiss on the cheek and said I would love to be his girlfriend and for a few minutes, I wondered, do I really want to go to England. But I dismissed the thought immediately because it would be something to look forward to when I come home.

On the same page is the holy picture of the Sacred Heart that Father Butler gave me when he came to say goodbye.  He’d written on the back:

Dear Olga

Bon voyage and a happy stay in London.

Be a good girl and don’t forget to say your prayers.

God bless you,

Reading about that evening and how happy I was then and how miserable I am feeling now made me sad and homesick.  I felt lonely sitting on that bench in the park.  I was hugging my diary with both hands, my head buried in my chest and gently rocking back and forth and I wasn’t aware someone had sat down beside me. 

          “Are you alright”.  I heard someone say.

          When I looked up I saw a beautiful brown face smiling at me.

          “My name’s Joanne” she said, smiling at me.

 My spirits lifted immediately and we started talking.  And guess where she came from….Jamaica!!  I couldn’t believe it because there aren’t too many Jamaicans in London, I can tell you.

Joanne comes from a big family, just like me, and they live in St Ann’s Bay.  We talked about our families and home and even though she’s been in London for two years studying nursing at Paddington General Hospital, Joanne still misses her family a lot. 

I said I missed my friends and was lonely and whenever someone sits next to me on the park bench, like the nannies who push the babies in the prams, I always smile and say hello and hope that they will talk to me, but they don’t, they either pretend they haven’t heard me or get up and walk away. 

           “Thank goodness for the keepers in the zoo”.

           “They’re friendly and they tell me all about the animals like elephants or the tigers and the bears” I said 

          “I like London a lot, but it can be the loneliest place in the world” Joanne told me. 

Oh she’s really lovely.  I’m so happy we met.   Joanne has one more year’s training and then she’s going back to Jamaica to work.  When I told her why I had come to London she was surprised and said didn’t my parents realise that England could go to war any day.  I said that the Prime Minister had Hitler’s promise not to invade Europe any more, so Mammie and Sydney felt it was safe for me to come over, and, anyway, Sydney would be here soon and I’d be going back to Jamaica with him.  Two hours later, and much happier, I said goodbye to Joanne, but we arranged to meet in the park the following week.   

<—London 1939          Aunt Martha, Chilworth Street, Paddington—>

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