it stopped bleeding she told them to go outside and play, as it was too late to go back to school. She told Marjorie to take the two little ones and look after them and reminded them to be careful, since they could not afford the doctor.
Marjorie and her sister Joyce are standing by 106 Whitley Road. The upstairs flat, located above the brick wall, is where Marjorie was living in February 1937. From there, it was just a quick run down to the beach.
Photo by Patricia Skidmore.
That had happened at their Victoria Avenue house. Or, was it at the Victoria Terrace house? Their many moves made it difficult to remember which house was which. She liked the Victoria Avenue house because it was much bigger than the flat they lived in now. They didn’t have much furniture to put in it but that gave them lots of room to play. Her mum pawned most of their things just so they could get by.
It was cold at their old Victoria Avenue house though, especially when the winter wind blew off the ocean. The inside of their house never seemed much warmer than the outside. They had to plug money in the gas meter to keep warm, but they rarely had any coins. Once when the meter man came by to collect the money, Marjorie heard him mutter that they must have found a way to get the gas heater to work without money. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that they just put all their clothes on and tried to keep warm by running through the rooms playing tag or hide and seek. The worst part though, was when they had to go to the outhouse in the back corner of the yard, especially when the wind was blowing and it was teeming with rain.
The main room of their new flat, above the butcher’s shop on Whitley Road, was warmer because the front of the building faced away from the ocean. There were good things about living here. Sometimes the butcher gave their mum some bones for soups and a couple of times there were bits of meat left on the bones. Whitley Road was a busy road and there were always exciting things happening along it. The best part was they did not have to change schools with this move. Now they lived closer to Rockcliffe School, and it was easier to get to school on time.
“Hey!”
Marjorie jumped down from the fence. The fancy girls were walking towards her.
“Why are you just sitting there? Are you staring at us? What are you looking at?” The biggest girl glared down at Marjorie.
Before Marjorie could answer, a pretty girl, her long plaits swinging from side to side, sneered at her, “Ooh, let’s get out of here, my mom said her brothers are in jail. We don’t want to talk to her!” She made a horrible face, turned up her nose, and walked away. The other two tossed their ribbon-clad heads and followed her.
Marjorie stared after them. “They are not! They are at a different school. It’s not fair. You are horrible!” She hissed at the girls and quickly ran off.
The clouds flying overhead caught her attention. They blotted out the light and made the sky black. They were so low that she felt she could reach up and touch them. The ever-present gulls swooped and played in the wind. They seemed to be touching the clouds. Oh, she would love to fly like the birds. The gulls never seemed to mind the weather, except when it really blew. Even then, Marjorie thought they seemed to enjoy visiting with each other all lined up along the rooftops or when they huddled together in their nests along the rock wall by the promenade or hobnobbing down on the shoreline.
The beach was the best when it was windy. Marjorie could sit all day in the shelter of the rocks or up on the lower promenade by the paddling pool if the tide was high and watch the huge waves as they came crashing in on the beach. She liked to watch the gulls while they hung around on the protected bits. Sometimes she would run and break up their little party. They would all fly up, but not very high and then they would settle down again a few feet away, screaming at her. She watched the way the young gulls followed their mothers squawking for food. It amused her that these big birds still expected their mothers to look after them.
“When I get bigger,” she yelled up to them, “I will always be a helper. I will not cry after my mum to feed me all the time!”
The sky was darkening as she headed up Edwards Road. There was a chill in the air. When she arrived at her flat, she hesitated on the stoop for a bit. She had no desire to go upstairs. She wished her father sent her mum more money, but he never did, so she knew they would have very little for their tea today. She was hungry but there was no reason to hurry inside.
As she sat down, she grimaced. Her boots were already getting too small and she would have to pass them down to one of the younger ones very soon. She would probably have blisters after running from those rotten girls. Pulling her boot off, sure enough, the skin had rubbed off her left heel. She would not complain though, because it was too cold to go barefoot now. Dropping her boots beside her, she groaned and realized that in her hurry to get away from those girls, she forgot her schoolbook. She stood up to go back, but changed her mind and sat down again.
People hurried past her on the sidewalk. A tram rumbled by. She leaned against the door and watched. Her father popped into her mind. She tried to picture his face, but she could not remember what he looked like at all. She wished he would come home. Maybe they would not have to move so much if he stopped at home. She wished for the hundredth time that her big brothers, Norman and Fred, hadn’t been sent away. She felt safer when they were at home. They were the family’s protection. When their mother couldn’t put food on the table, they could. They never let them down. And her mum was happier when Norman and Fred were at home. Her brothers were really good at finding ways of making money. Norman and Fred would sometimes sell firewood to people and also gather mushrooms and sell them at the local grocers. Norman also helped a farmer down at Dalton Fields. The farmer had several donkeys and, during the summer months, he would hire Norman to give donkey rides to the tourists down on the north end of the Whitley Bay sands. Even her sister Joyce helped with the donkeys.
Her brothers had been doing other things too. Marjorie had secretly followed them a few times and she saw them pinch beer bottles behind the local pubs, and then walk boldly through the front door of another pub and dump the bottles down on the floor as if they had carried them all the way from home. She wanted to help too, but they told her, “Nah, girls can’t help with this.” Sometimes she got so frustrated about that. She wanted to make her mum happy too.
Norman and Fred spent a lot of time at the Spanish City fun grounds near the north end of town. Marjorie often looked for them before she went to the beach to play, but her brothers usually headed straight for the gaming machines. Marjorie wondered how they found the money to play. Once, when she and Kenny were on their way down to the beach to pick winkles for their supper, she saw Norman standing nervously by the gaming section. She sent Kenny on ahead and told him to get started. She promised that she would catch up with him in a minute as she handed him her pail and told him to scoot.
Marjorie snuck up on Norman. “Boo!” She hollered as she grabbed onto his back. He did not even flinch. He calmly asked her to get lost. He refused to talk to her, so she threatened to tell her mum about how he nips the bottles.
Norman turned to his sister and warned her that if she told, she was really going to get it. He made her cross her heart and spit and told her that he was serious. He warned her that if she told anyone that he would lock her under the cupboard again and Jack the Ripper would get her this time for sure. The memory made Marjorie wince. Fred and Norman were minding her and Kenny one day when they suggested playing hide and seek. The kitchen cupboard was the best hiding place. Marjorie and Kenny both got to the cupboard at the same moment and scampered inside, closing the door behind them. When the latch slipped across, they knew they had been
