Cul-de-sacs: hotbeds of infidelity, in-fighting, neighbourly politics and
behind-closed-doors intrigue. Remember Brookside? Quite.
I grew up in a cul-de-sac, or close, from 1965 to 1975, and believe you me,
what didn't go on there is nobody's business. It was apparently famous for its
parties, more notably, its wife-swapping parties. And there wasn't a pampas grass in sight. I remember endless parties at
all the houses more or less, coming downstairs in the morning and finding
underwear hung on car ariels. How we laugh now. I'm not sure if it's all
true or not, but they certainly seemed to enjoy themselves.
So we're going down a different route today, and I'm going to talk you
through all 18 houses, their inhabitants and some key memories. It's not that everyone in this list was there for the full 10 years, but there was a low turnover of residents and here's who I remember being around most. While we're
doing this, we'll listen to Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep by Middle Of The Road, the song
that soundtracked my early years by being never off the radio and with a band
who looked like the neighbours.
No.1. The Davises.
He worked for Barclays Bank, she grew up round the corner from my mum. They
had one child when they arrived, another came in 1970. He put a pink sheet up
at the window to announce her arrival. My dad remarked that it was a 'big
girl's blouse' thing to do. We went to Majorca together in 1972 then they moved
to Jersey in 1973. But our families remained life-long friends. Replaced by those life-changing Americans.
No.2 ?
I cannot for the life of me remember their names - they seemed a bit dull,
but they had two children called Jane and Ruth. We weren't friends. I once saw
them fall out of their mother's car as she turned a corner and the dad took the
neighbourhood kids for rides up and down the Close on his motorbike.
No.3 The Bullises
She did Blue Peter makes and hid them in the shed. Had a mute son called
Julian who was friends with my brother. Moved to Redcar.
No.4. The Kellaways
My parents second favourite bete noire, university types with an untidy
front-garden, three kids and a red setter called Jane that died after eating a
piece of string. They'd lived in Uganda. House smelled of something I could never quite put my finger on. Unkempt hair all round.
No.5 The Barrats
My parents ultimate nightmare: hippies! Bare boards, garden completely plain
and flat, lots of kids, awful old Austin 7 sitting in the drive. Funnily
enough, like people do, they became leading lights on the local council and mum
recently attended her funeral and denies all knowledge now of ever having been
irritated by them. Moved in '73 to be replaced by Jill and Bob. He worked for
Gillette and had a very noisy nervous breakdown.
No.6 The Yorks
Brummies who came to our street by way of Brighton. He had a shock of red
hair. She was in love with Gilbert O'Sullivan. Their loo door was black. Years
later, when we'd moved, they moved in across the street from us once again. Had a
wet son who we taunted resulting one day in father slapping me round the face in
the street and the police being called. When my dad went over to demand to
speak to him he turned all the lights out and pretended he wasn't in. NB Was
once the last person to see a colleague before she was murdered.
No.7 The Comptons
He looked like a toby jug. She was called Joan. Had two daughters who must have been a few years old than me, as they
bought Gary Glitter records and we watched Top Of The Pops at their house and they'd ask me what I thought of Jimmy Osmond. My
uncle would take Joan chocolates on Christmas day. I was once in a chip pan fire at their house. I
can still smell it. Joan was never the same again after she burnt her
hand.
No.8. The Cripps
Three kids, we'd meet at the ice cream van. Anything else I can't recall.
No.9 Christine and Terry
I never did know their surname but they were by far the youngest in the
street. She was a glamorpuss with Adrienne Posta hair. He had big sideburns and
drove a yellow Ford Cortina. Eventually, he left her for a woman he was having
an affair with, leaving her devastated. Years later, my best friend Jonathan
Murgatroyd moved into that house with his family.
No. 10
The Wheelers. Three kids, he was an alcoholic estate agent who hid bottles
all over the house. I remember one kiddies party there where I called out to
the magician that I'd seen him before and this was all old hat. He took me
aside afterwards and gave me a major dressing down. I remember the sting of that
humiliation. The Wheelers eventually divorced and he disappeared. When she and the kids moved out we watched
it from the window. 'No one got divorced in my day,' said my granny, 'And if
they did, they were ashamed of themselves.'
No.11 The Huffys
Worked for IBM, always extending their house. Once reputedly put LSD in the punch at
someone's party. Daughter who looked like David Bowie and dressed in huge fun
fur bomber jackets. One day, while playing with the two boys, I was asked if
I'd like to stay for tea. Seduced by the smell of grilled bacon I readily
agreed, only to find the bacon was reserved for the daughter who was due back
from her paper round and we were all having banana sandwiches. I realised at
that moment that life was likely to be full of disappointments. Mother appeared
in a documentary in the mid-Eighties about divorce, as apparently the small
town I grew up in was the divorce capital of Britain.
No.12 The Peatties
The original owners had moved out after father, whose affair with a younger
co-worker resulted in her pregnancy, killed himself on the edge of the A33. So
along came this family. Both children slightly older than me but we were great
pals. Her mother did hairdressing from home, had married at 19, smoked for
Europe and took us to Beaulieu Motor Museum on more than one occasion. Often
played host to foreign language students who smelled. We used to take daring
peeks at the father's not so carefully hidden knack mags. Always seemed to watching either The Sky's
The Limit, David Nixon or And Mother Makes Three.
No.13 The Browns
Had a baby who was strangled in his own highchair while mother's back was turned
for a split second. I don't remember this, but I do remember their older
daughter who was a teenager and covered her room in flower stickers and
humorous teatowels. Had a lovely extension with bare brick walls. Dad was a
bank manager and gave us a lift to school, during which he chain-smoked with
the windows shut. She worked for NatWest too, and years later helped me open my
first bank account.
No.14 That was us.
You know enough about us.
No. 15 The Cleavers
Loved them, still do. Though mum and dad weren’t exactly super friends with
them, what with them being academics and Labour voters, they were fond.
Where our mum threw dinner parties, their mum
could be found mooning over art books or painting an Airfix model of the Cutty
Sark, and they encouraged modern role-play games. They had two boys who we were
best pals with.
I was devastated when
they moved, but it was only round the corner. Mum might bump into them in the
supermarket now and again.
No. 16 The Monaghans
He was an Irish hairdresser whose mother was head housekeeper at the New York Hilton. She was a blonde, northern glamourpuss. They were immensely stylish. It irks my mum when I say we copied them, but we did. They had an extension, we had an extension. They went to Colley's Supper Rooms, so did we, etc. He drove a bronze Jag. They had one daughter then another 16 years later. I was sent a clipping from the local paper featuring him retiring from his salon after 40 years. I remember going there on opening day and finding a secret door into Hepworths' stockroom.
No.17 The Fyalls
We were huge pals with their two boys, and I remember thinking why my trendy mum and dad couldn't be a bit more ordinary, especially when they had invited some other neighbours (who replaced Jill and Bob) to their firework do. The older son collected 2000ADs and was into war. We often watched Sykes at their house.
No.18. The Sears
IBM again, often watched T with their children after school. Mother thought the girl from The Kids From 47A overacted. Years later I'd babysit for their kids and let them watch Hammer House Of Horror because I was too scared to watch it on my own.
And that's that. Memorable, colourful, always something going on, but with a slight dark side.
So who would you be friend with?
