LITMIR.BIZ

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alert for any problems with the children – I suppose some of them might have been on night duty. I know they were there for us because one night the rain was pouring down in torrents, beating against the windows so hard that it kept us all awake for a while. Finally, I must have dozed off, perhaps for an hour or two. Suddenly I awoke to a great flash of lightning, followed immediately by loud thunder cracks that must have struck very close by. At first, I feared it had broken our windows, but they were still intact. I grabbed hold of my scruffy old second-hand teddy bear, Jeffrey, and hugged him tight. The lightning lit up the room again and again with crashing roars, which terrified us all. I hid myself and Jeffrey under the covers. Only moments after this crescendo, my housemother and two of the others rushed into our room and straight away, comforted us all, gathering us together in little groups and calming us down.

      Sometimes, on more peaceful nights, I would hear the sounds of animals outside, such as badgers or foxes making their way round to the back of the building, where the hens were kept, but I don’t remember them ever catching any, though the staff probably wouldn’t have told us if they had. Often, I used to wake early and peep out to watch the stately deer or the rabbits and hares scampering across the lawns.

      Any toys or games we had were donated by well-wishers, so they had often been well used. As well as Jeffrey, I also had two toy cars. I used to play with them a lot, pushing and spinning them round while making the noise of a car, and I would park them under my bed every night.

      When the weather was bad, we played in our dormitories, the girls in theirs and we boys in ours. We had a big bag of little blocks of wood and I used to piece them together to make shapes and patterns. Sometimes we built towers. I remember going upwards as far as I could before they all crashed to the floor.

      We also had colouring books and crayons, which we enjoyed. On Sundays we set out all the little Formica-topped tables and chairs in the middle of the room and were given watercolour paints in little tins, one each. We had to get the water to wet the paints with our brushes to colour in the pictures or make our own. I loved that. The staff would come round and say things like: ‘Oh, that’s very good’, or ‘What colour are you going to paint this?’

      I used to love our painting on Sundays – I’m sure that’s what started my love of art growing up.

      As you have probably guessed by now, mealtimes were always my favourite time of the day. We sometimes ate breakfasts and teas in our dormitories, but we always had our lunch in the big dining room at the back of the house, all seated at long refectory tables – the boys at one and the girls at the other, with a housemother at each end. We had to say Grace at the beginning of every meal:

      ‘For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.’

      We were encouraged to eat everything on our plates, but I didn’t need much encouragement – the food was so good, I don’t think I ever left anything! We were allowed second helpings if there were any and I always had them.

      Next to our dormitory there was a bathroom, with a black and white tiled floor. I remember there was one bath in it – a big white iron affair. That was on one side and along the opposite wall was a row of wash basins. We would line up and wash our hands before every meal, then at bedtime we would brush our teeth, wash our faces and hands. The housemothers watched us to make sure we did this thoroughly before we got into bed. As there was only the one bath, we had to take turns every two or three days.

      We each had a small cupboard next to our bed for our clothes – it was a tiny cupboard with a drawer above it, where I kept my treasures. We didn’t have many clothes but if we needed something else, there was a store of second- or third-hand clothes upstairs, so one of the housemothers would go and get it for us. In fact, none of them were our own clothes. One of the other boys might wear a pair of shorts one day and I would be wearing them the next, but none of us minded.

      In the winters, although the building was so large, it was hardly ever cold as we had huge iron radiators, probably Victorian, and they kept us snug. At night, we all had hot water bottles, just to make sure. If ever we still felt cold at night, we only had to say and someone would bring us an extra blanket.

      Field House was good in so many ways. One of these was the way we were taught to mix and play with any disabled children we had with us. Whatever their disability, we always included them in our games and talked with them. Nobody ever made fun of them or left them out. Sometimes, their disability might have been the reason why they were put in care, but we all played together. There was one boy who couldn’t eat properly or use his hands and he used to dribble, but nobody said anything, he was just part of the group. If he couldn’t join in a game, one of us would always sit out with him to keep him company – it was the normal thing to do.

      Every night, one of the housemothers would sit on my bed and read me a short story. It was a lovely part of bedtime. Some of them were very short stories, like Jack and the Beanstalk or Rumpelstiltskin, but often I wouldn’t hear the end of it because I had already fallen asleep. I suppose that was the idea! It certainly worked.

      CHAPTER 3

       The Monkey Man

      September 1958 (nearly 4) – Grown into a fine boy – sturdy, adventurous and agile. There has been a very marked improvement in this child. Much happier. Laughs and plays and sings. Speech quite fluent. Has a lot of imagination. Co-operative and gets on well with other children. Plays very well by himself.

      Field House progress report

      There was always so much to do in the gardens of Field House that often we didn’t have any extra entertainments organised, though I do remember one occasion when a big van arrived and out jumped a man in multicolour clothes. He built a sort of booth out of wood and striped fabric on the lawn. We all gathered round and the housemothers organised us into rows on the grass.

      ‘We’re going to see a puppet show,’ one of them announced. ‘It’s called Punch and Judy.’

      None of us knew what a puppet show was, but as soon as it got under way we were all laughing and shouting out at the puppets’ antics. We had a wonderful time and talked about it for days afterwards.

      ‘I liked the policeman best,’ said the boy next to me in my dormitory as we were getting ready for bed that evening.

      ‘I liked it when they threw the string of sausages,’ I replied.

      I often took myself for walks around the gardens or to the vegetable gardens at the back of the house. One very still day, sitting in the cedar tree to the left of the house, I could hear the sound of trickling water. When I craned my head in that direction, I couldn’t see much, except for an ornamental gate in a wall, which hid what lay beyond. I had never been down that side of the house, so I clambered down and set off to find out what it was. A few days earlier, my housemother had read me a story about an explorer. I had asked her what an explorer was and she explained, ‘An explorer is someone who goes to new places and finds out what animals live there and what flowers grow there.’

      ‘Could I do that?’ I asked.

      ‘You could, if you want to, when you grow up.’

      Well, I knew I wasn’t grown up yet, but now I felt just like an explorer, walking alone into an unknown place to see what might be there. I was so excited at the thought that I didn’t even consider whether I was allowed to go there.

      When I reached the gate, it was closed, but I gave it a little push and, much to my surprise, it swung open, revealing a magical place, a beautiful garden so different from everywhere else. I walked in and looked around. It was a fascinating place. Everywhere I looked there was something new and different – things I’d never seen before. I could hardly believe it.

      ‘I went to a beautiful garden today,’ I told my housemother at bedtime that evening.

      ‘Did you really?’ she

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