Southend U3A

Writing for Fun

February 2021

Shopkeeper - Jenni Bowers

The shop was situated on the corner of The Broadway in Leigh-on-Sea, how exciting it was to visit Uncle Arthur and play with some of the toys before they were sold. Uncle always wore his brown ‘shop’ coat and pince-nez on his nose – he had a kindly face, clean shaven, with twinkling eyes, his brown hair was Bryl-creamed to perfection and I remember the smell of ‘old spice’ if he gave me a hug.

Underneath the counter he would have ‘spangles’ (boiled sweets in various rainbow colours which could be sucked for ages until the middle went all thin, then one could poke a tongue through). Every child entering the shop would be offered one, once he’d asked the parent’s approval.

He would kneel down and show us the train sets working or spin a top, tip up the snow globes and walk the Pelham puppets across the floor, we’d have plasticine to play with if he was busy and marbles of course, such a kind man who loved children to enjoy his wonderful shop.

I longed for the beautiful doll’s house to appear at the end of my bed one Christmas, but I guess dad couldn’t afford that. However, I did play with the furniture, move the little people around inside it, switch the lights on and off until told, ‘stop it Jennifer, you’ll run the battery down’, it even had pretty gingham curtains and a full china tea-set in the kitchen.

One day on a visit with mum and my two sisters, I sneaked a look at ‘my’ house, ‘that’s funny’ I thought, where’s Miranda, the little girl who lives here? I asked Uncle Arthur and he replied ‘Ah well dear, at night I think the toys play and maybe Miranda has got lost – I’m sure she’ll be back tonight.’

That was amazing, so the toys come alive at night? – ‘Only when it’s a full moon’, added Uncle. That night I lay in bed watching the moon, but it was only a quarter one. ‘Dad, when’s the next full moon?’ I enquired hopefully.

‘No idea, don’t bother me I’m busy,’ came the stern rebuke. So I didn’t ask again, but did ask mum when we could visit the shop again – ‘Soon,’ she said as she rolled out pastry for jam tarts. I loved being in the kitchen with her, she let me stir the custard – ‘keep it free of lumps for me’ – she’d request and I even rolled the pastry sometimes; but was never involved in her cake making. It was so wonderful coming home from school, to smell baking throughout the house, how cosy and safe it made me feel and that smell still evokes the same emotions to this day.

Next time I saw Uncle Arthur was at their bungalow in Thundersley where they had a huge garden, mostly given over to fruit and vegetable growing; ‘digging for Victory’ still! The sisters and I would chase each other round the rhubarb and runner beans, carrots and cornflowers, brassicas and beetroot.

We’d pick the strawberries in June and blackcurrants, redcurrants and blackberries, raspberries & gooseberries, whilst harvesting some for mum to take home and Auntie Lena – who always wore her hair in a bun and a similarly grey wrap-over apron, thick stockings and sensible brogues, a kind lady as I recall – to make into jam.

Meanwhile Uncle Arthur would be in his ‘darkroom’, a mysterious place we were not allowed in – now I understand that he was not only a shopkeeper by day but a keen photographer in his spare time, developing his photos, probably taken on a box Brownie, and maybe even selling them – when he died their son inherited his collection, wonder where they are now?

I never did get the doll’s house but one Christmas I received a lovely Rosebud doll – I can’t remember when her hair (wig) came off, but I guess she was very loved and cuddled and have Uncle Arthur to thank for her. He kept his shop and retired in the mid nineteen sixties, even now when I walk past the shop, (it became a haberdashery & is still selling materials now), I can see that dolls house, and look for Miranda, who never did appear there again – sweet memories of the best shopkeeper I have ever known.