My Blog

Have you seen the film Sliding Doors where Gywneth Paltrow plays a woman whose love life and career both hinge, unknown to her, on whether or not she catches a train? We see it both ways, in parallel. I often wonder how if different decisions had been made in my life where my ‘other’ pathway may have lead to – do you ever consider the impact your decisions may have on yourself and those around you?  On my birthday weekend this year I had reason to reflect on this as I went back to my childhood places. What if my parents had never decided to move from one county to another when I was 16 – how different might my life have been?

My partner wanted to take me to Paris for a long weekend to celebrate my birthday this year (4th August). I looked at the flights and because they weren’t on offer and our schedules would only allow three nights, my suggestion was to defer it to another time. He agreed and said to look elsewhere. A search lead me to the stunning Breck Apartments at Poulton – just outside Blackpool! So instead of the Eiffel Tower ….

it would be Blackpool Tower!

My decision was also prompted by the fact that every time we have driven north on the M6 to the Lakes or Scotland I have said that I wanted to show him where I was born and lived until I was 16. So far it has never happened – until this weekend! After a longer than expected journey on the M6 on a Friday afternoon (who are you kidding?) we arrived at the apartment which was as plush as it looks on the website. The wallpaper in our suite was ‘French-inspired’! It is very ‘Footballers Wives’ with shiny surfaces and even a television in the bathroom! I immediately began with my story of going on the bus every Saturday morning in my early teens to attend a Fylde music school. I played the cello (badly!) and got myself quite frazzled each week in expectation of the lesson with the teacher who wore her hair in a bun, small round specs and always had a Tweed skirt on. ‘Play – girl – play!’ she would holler at me!  I daren’t play because I was scared she would shout and she shouted because I wouldn’t play well.  I was never destined to be a fine musician until I got a new teacher. Mr Meert, played for the Halle orchestra. I loved him and my skill improved hugely – he died suddenly and my (unlikely) cello career went with him. I doubt if I ever would have been this musical.

I was quite shocked to see the decline in the shops in Poulton-le-Fylde. When I was a child there had been some lovely individual ones. Now there are only a few left and others have been replaced by chain stores and charity shops. I was pleased to see that the Corn Mill cafe is still going strong.  My parents would often meet me there after my lesson and I’d order a cheese, ham and pineapple toastie! I remember that the church in the centre always used to have a wonderful array of spring flowers – the hanging baskets in the village were great this weekend.

Next morning we set off in the car to trace my past. First significant place was the Lecture Hall in Thornton Cleveleys, now renamed Thornton Little Theatre. This is where my first stage performances were held as I attended the Sandra Holden School of Dancing. Every Easter from being 2 to about 10, I was in a show – here as a bunny!  Little did I know that this would build my confidence to be a professional speaker on postnatal illness as an adult – without dressing up in a costume!

Can you see the family resemblance with my niece?

Next was my infant school – Church Road County primary school is no more. A housing estate has replaced it. Where are all these children now celebrating being late 40’s and early 50’s? That’s me on the front row right in the middle.

The first home I remember living in was in Sandyforth Avenue in Thornton Cleveleys. It is still there and looks so small – picture below. I have very fond memories of living here until I was 9. This was where Father Christmas came – until I discovered Monopoly hidden in the wardrobe one year, and the magic faded! My brother, Kevin, and I had great birthday parties too. One memorable one involved a game of drawing on the dining room wallpaper just before it was redecorated – other parents were not impressed when they went home and wanted to do likewise! I was a sulker as a little girl. This photo was at my brothers’ party and I didn’t get a particular prize in Pass the Parcel! I am under the number, head down – Kim is holding the prize fan I wanted! My Dad always used to tell me that the only person I hurt when I sulked was myself – it’s a shame it took me years to appreciate he was right.

Another fond memory I had of living here was the mobile shopping – not as in using a phone, but with the vendors who came round the houses. There was the Corona pop man. Cream soda and dandelion and burdock were our favourites. You had to give the bottles back the next week to get a penny or so off. Recycling even back then!  There was also the fruit and veg cart. Yes – it was horse drawn even in the late 60’s, and run by a man and wife team. He was called Ralph and hardly spoke. His wife Connie was a formidable character with a warm heart and loud voice. Whilst Mums chose the goods, the children would stroke the horse, Molly, until Ralph was given firm instructions to move on. We longed to be ‘the chosen’ one to be given a short ride on the cart if enough potatoes had been sold, and there was a space to sit. I was very sorry to learn that business ended a number of years later because Ralph had been killed by a passing car.

Next we drove onto Fleetwood where we passed the site of what had been a huge employer in the area – ICI. That was where my Dad worked. This now has gone and is replaced by large warehouses.

My parents always wanted my brother and I to go to Fleetwood Grammar school – it was the best in the area. So when he was 11 and I was 9 we moved to a brand new cul-de-sac just round the corner from it. Another good decision that changed life for us all. Here is Kevin (wearing a shirt and tie to play out in!) and some of the other children from the new houses – and how it looks now.

What a pity the front garden is now a car parking space! I loved tending that lawn and border. I guess that is a sign of the times.

My favourite school is now also long gone and now is an Aldi and flats.

My maternal grandparents were Fleetwood ‘born and bred’. My Grandpa, Thomas Roskell, was a barber in the town for almost 60 years. He seemed to know everyone. In their latter years when he was still working I always remember the delivery of the Blackpool Evening Gazette dropping through the letterbox. He would shout my Grandma (they lived in a large flat above the shop) and the first item they would look at was the obituaries. For the next hour they would discuss the life and times of ‘Frank, from Derbyshire Road, who married Nellie, who used to work in the butchers’, etc. etc! These days we get a text or find out such news on Facebook. That parochial feel has vanished in our society.

Even though my grandparents joined us in Cheshire for their final years, they had always said they wanted to be buried in Fleetwood cemetery.  Their final decision! We granted their wish and on Saturday I refreshed the bedding plants they loved so much. Here they are on their Diamond wedding anniversary May 4^th 1996 … and where their bodies are now.

As I tended their grave I acknowledged the huge love that they had for my parents, their grand-children, and the great grand-children they met. They may not have always approved of our decisions, yet they were dedicated to each other. I still miss them very much. I am sure my partner realised how much an impact and involvement they had in my childhood because almost at every place we went I had a ‘Grandma and Grandpa’ memory to share. I hope that I am able to leave a legacy of love and happy memories when I am a grandparent.

I think my Grandpa would be devastated to see Fleetwood these days. His shop is in the process of being turned into a house. There is only one shop remaining in the row of five on Poulton Road where his was. There were very, very few of the shops of old there and in the main shopping street, Marks and Spencers has even gone. Instead shops are boarded up or vacant and there are £ stores and charity shops. So sad.  Just behind what used to be a thriving shopping centre is a large Asda and an outlet village where the once busy fishing port thrived. On the seafront the Marine Hall and gardens are still very well-kept along with The Mount. Some parts of the front are just as they were when we lived there in the 70s. Sadly the pier, where I used to love getting an ice cream, burned down a few years ago. I could still see the beach huts on the front, all brightly painted. My friend Carol and I hired one for a week when we were 15 and played house!  She now lives in USA and has lived an exciting life. The place where I was born, Milton Lodge below, is now a nursing home!

When we moved to Fleetwood, within a couple of years we had a new addition to the family. I was thrilled with my parents’ decision to have another baby. Claire was my living doll. Here we are on her christening day in 1973 at the front door of the house above. And a few years ago at her wedding. What joy she has brought us all.

The big decision that my parents made when I was 16, was to leave Fleetwood – it was a ‘Sliding Door’ decision that I am glad they made. My Dad was offered a promotion and we moved to Runcorn in Cheshire. At the time many people scoffed at us for leaving the wonderful Fylde coast for ‘Runcorn, a new town full of roundabouts’.  My grandparents reacted like we had said we were moving to Mars – not 70 miles away – and I know it was a difficult period for the adults at the time.  It was an adventure for us children and began a new chapter for us all. These days I suspect the majority of families rarely live close by, as in my grandparents era. The irony is that my brother, sister and I plus my parents are all now within a 15 minute drive of each other in Cheshire!

We then drove into Cleveleys and I was so pleased to discover that two of the ‘institutions’ are still there. Grime’s the butchers and Neal’s bakery have survived, side by side. The Neal’s vanilla slice still tastes as good as it did 40 years ago! Yummy!

So how do you eat yours? We decided it has to be halved horizontally – eating the bottom half first and saving the top, iced half until last. It was my birthday weekend after all!

That was a good decision!

Part 2 to follow of my birthday ‘back to my roots’ weekend.

Elaine x