Cutie

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Book Award Category
Cuties parents settle in Bristol in the 1950s. The family suffer racism and human excrement is posted through their letterbox. They move to Easton and she finds happiness making mischief with friends. Her loyalties are tested when she is forced to keep a secret and her own demons of abuse resurface.

Memoirs of Cutie

Prologue

Dearest Mother And Father

Mum

My mother, Agatha Jean Douglas, née Moulton, was born in Kingston, Jamaica, on 31 May 1931. Her dad, Gilbert Moulton, who was born in 1907, owned a general store until he died at the age of sixty-seven in 1974. Her mum, Anita Picard, was born in 1905 and died in 1943 at the age of thirty-eight from consumption. Mum had an older brother, Arthur, born just one year before her, although there has always been some discrepancy about their actual birth dates. In Jamaica, if the children were not registered within a certain period, their parents would be fined. To avoid the payment, parents would lie about the date their child was born. However, in most cases this may have only been a couple of months. Mum’s brother Arthur lived to a greater age than Mum, dying in 2005 at the age of seventy-five. They lived in Jamaica until their early twenties when, in 1953, Arthur emigrated to England, aged twenty-three. Mum followed him two years later and they both settled in Derby.

They were privately educated at a Catholic school in Kingston. Their mum died unexpectedly when Arthur was fourteen years old and Mum was thirteen. She said that their mum’s death came as a total shock to everyone. It was devastating and her brother changed overnight. They had always been close and he had looked out for my mum, but after their loss they drifted apart. Mum often heard her brother sobbing at night when everyone had gone to bed. She was too young to know how to console him and said that he became withdrawn and spent many hours alone.

He started rebelling at school, playing truant and, when he was there, starting fights in the playground, eventually falling behind with his studies. He mixed with the wrong crowd, staying out late, and got into trouble with the local police. His dad took him under his wing and set him to work in the family business where he would learn a good trade.

Mum finished her education, leaving school at the age of fifteen. Her desire was to continue studying at secretarial college, but her dad had other ideas for her future. Mum said that he bought her a sewing machine, which made her happy. When she was not working in the family store or managing the house, she made her own clothes to the envy of many. Her life was simple, having lost contact with her school friends who either lived too far away in the countryside or had returned to live abroad. Mum’s only outlet was church on Sundays or Bible class one evening a week. She never mentioned any other family being around her as she grew up.

Neither her dad nor her brother had noticed that she was maturing into a young woman. She had a few admirers but, without female influence or guidance in her life, she made her own decisions when it came to relationships. She met a young man at church and courted him in secret. When she was not working in the store, she retreated to the confines of her bedroom, apparently reading or sewing. In fact, after dark she would climb out of her bedroom window and meet up with her young man. She continued her secret rendezvous throughout her teenage years.

Mum said that, initially, Arthur was happy working in the store and liked earning his own money. He was a good salesman, quick to learn about the business, and he loved dealing with the customers. On Saturdays, the store was always busy with eligible young ladies who came in with their mothers or chaperones to buy material, lace or ribbons. He enjoyed flirting with them and playing one off against the other with his charm. The ladies would be swooning after him as he moved around the store fetching their orders. Long after he had served them, they would continue to loiter, hoping that he might ask one for a date. If any lady caught his eye, he happily flirted with them, volunteering to deliver groceries to their homes. Under the watchful eye of their fathers, he boasted of the countless times he had spent alone with many pretty ladies, sitting on the porch with them after dark, drinking homemade lemonade or sipping ginger beer.

Away from the glare of his dad, Arthur began to tire of working in the store. He was working long hours and felt that he was missing out on the fun his friends were having. Mum said these friends started hanging around the store or distracting him away from his deliveries, leaving her to pick up the slack. He couldn’t resist the temptation and soon slipped back into his old ways. He began drinking heavily, arriving home drunk, which always ended in heated arguments with their dad. He got into fights with anyone who crossed his path. The local police had also warned him of his unruly behaviour and lack of respect towards authority, but he continued to rebel. Their dad worried that it was only a matter of time before he got himself into serious trouble.

At his wits’ end, Mum’s dad confided in the preacher and his wife, who were close friends of the family. They convinced him that his children needed stability in their lives in the shape of a new mother. They introduced him to potential ladies who were keen to be married. He accepted many invitations to dinner or a stroll out with respectable single or widowed ladies who were connected to the church. A good-looking man of means and property, he was an exceptionally good catch for any woman. Mum remembers her dad dressed in his best suit and starched shirt, complete with trilby hat, looking very smart as he left home to pay the ladies a visit. She said that he enjoyed courting as the ladies were a welcome distraction from the store and her unruly brother. Once her dad had left the house for the evening, she and her brother would be left to refill the shelves in the store. Soon Arthur’s friends would call upon him. Unable to resist the temptation, he would never miss the chance to make mischief in the village.

Eventually, their dad announced he was going to be married. Having met so many pleasant ladies, Mum said she was surprised at his choice. With her feet firmly under the table, their stepmum’s only interest was in keeping an eye on the books and the weekly takings, which she would lock away in the safe. She stopped Mum from having the most lavish of materials or haberdashery, keeping the best for herself. Now a woman of means, her stepmum bought the best of everything. Even her undergarments were expensively made by the local seamstress. Mum said that she was strict and loved to criticise or scold her. Nothing Mum did was ever good enough. The stepmum took great pleasure in displaying her authority in front of her friends, whom she would invite around for afternoon tea. She berated their dad for the way he disciplined his children. Her dad got to the point where he seldom challenged his wife. Mum said that he never beat them, which made her stepmum angry. She also berated Arthur at every opportunity about his wayward lifestyle, as well as the bad company he kept. This would cause more arguments and drive him out of the house. Sometimes he disappeared for weeks, which was distressing for their stepmum and dad.

Arthur

Now in his early twenties, Arthur was still heavily involved with gangs and breaking the law. He seldom returned to the house as this caused arguments with his stepmum. There was always someone undesirable looking for him, which caused concern for everyone. Mum would meet her brother in secret away from the house, reporting back on any comings or goings. She also gave him money, food or clean clothes to tide him over.

Things came to a head when Arthur got into a fight and injured a well-connected man. The police came to the house to arrest him, but he had disappeared. He eventually turned up at the house weeks later to ask his dad for help. His dad was furious that he had brought trouble to his door, but didn’t want his son to go to prison. He told him that the only way he would help him was if he agreed to leave Jamaica for a new life in England, so Arthur agreed. Being a well-respected, wealthy businessman, his dad was able to persuade the police not to pursue the investigation. The victim was also happy with the arrangement and was compensated for his inconvenience, and the matter was closed.

In 1953, aged twenty-three, Arthur boarded a flight from Jamaica to Heathrow, leaving Mum behind. They were very distraught at leaving each other, but vowed they would be together again one day.

Arthur stayed in London, then Chesterfield for a short time, before moving to Derby, where there was a large Jamaican community. Finding suitable accommodation was difficult due to prejudice. Many houses displayed signs in their windows saying “No Blacks, No Irish, No Dogs” – or, worse, he was told that the room had been taken. Few white people at the time would rent a room to people of colour, but eventually he found lodgings at an extortionate price with a widowed white woman. The house was overcrowded, damp, full of infestation and had no heating. For electricity, he had to put a shilling in the meter. Arthur said anyone who shared a room slept in shifts. As one person got up for work, the other was arriving home from a night shift and would jump into the still warm, empty bed. Everyone in the house would share the same bathroom and kitchen. As long as they all paid their rent on time, the landlady was happy. Living conditions were appalling, nothing like he had ever experienced in Jamaica, but he couldn’t afford to go back home. A rude awakening, but at least he had a roof over his head.

While in Derby, Arthur met and married his wife, Jane. They had seven children together. He had several jobs including working on the buses, as well as on the railway for many years. He saved most of his money and then, after a year, was able to buy his first house. He rented out all the rooms to his friends, which gave him an extra income. Once they had established themselves, his friends also bought their own homes. He continued to receive new friends from Jamaica and this was one of the many ways Jamaicans were able to build strong communities together.

Years later he found a job at Rolls-Royce, where he worked until he retired. Not wishing to hang up his boots quite yet, he was then employed by Derbyshire Police as the school crossing lollipop man, a job he was extremely proud of.

Mum’s adult years

Mum fell pregnant at the age of twenty, giving birth to Joseph in 1951. Three years later, she fell pregnant again with her daughter Merlene. She never talked about their dad. Then, when she was twenty-five, her dad sent her to England without the children. She never spoke of how she coped with leaving two small children behind in Jamaica or how it affected her as a young mum. Maybe her parents wanted her to have a better life, which they believed she could only achieve by moving abroad. Her brother Arthur was already in the UK, so at least she wouldn’t be alone. Joseph and Merlene, my elder siblings, remained in Jamaica and were brought up by their granddad and Mum’s stepmum until he died.

I never met my maternal or paternal grandparents, who all lived and died in Jamaica when I was young. Neither of my parents talked much about their own childhood, so over the years it has been difficult to piece together a clear story of their lives. This is common in Jamaican families of that generation. It was also common in large families for parents to leave their young children with grandparents while they travelled to England during the Windrush years.

In 1948, after the Second World War, the troopship Empire Windrush was the first vessel to bring West Indian immigrants from Jamaica to London, docking in the Port of Tilbury. With a labour shortage in state-run services within the NHS, London Transport and construction, many Caribbeans found work in post-war UK. Some stayed for a few years before returning to Jamaica while others remained, establishing new lives in Britain.

Once they had settled, they sent for their children to join them in the UK. I knew from a young age that I had an older brother and sister who lived in Jamaica, but I never knew until I was in my teens that we had different fathers. My dad treated them like the rest of his children, sending them regular letters, pictures or parcels so they were never excluded. Mum sent for them to join the family in the UK, but with her having three other children and mental health problems the authorities wouldn’t allow them to come. This came as a shock to the family, but there was nothing anyone could do.

My parents returned to Jamaica in 1972 and Mum again in 1982. This was a significant time for her as she was able to rekindle her relationship with her children. My brother Joseph is married with four children. He now lives in America with his wife and the two younger children. His two older girls, who I’ve met, both live in Jamaica. My other siblings have all met Joseph, but because of circumstances we have never met.

I am in regular contact with my sister Merlene. We have a strong connection and a lovely relationship, having met for the first time in 1987 after Mum died. She lived in the UK for many years before returning to Jamaica and whenever I visit Jamaica, I spend time with her. I also spent years visiting my dad’s sisters in Jamaica, who have since died.

Dad

My dad, Vincent Nathaniel Douglas, was born on 29 November 1929 in Point Hill, St Catherine, Jamaica. He was the youngest of six children born to Thomas Douglas, a cultivator who died in 1943. His mother, Ellen Douglas, née Davis, was born in 1903. She died of diabetes in 1969.

Dad went to the village school in Point Hill. When not at school, he spent much of his childhood helping his dad farm their five acres of land. He told stories of riding his donkey bareback through the bush, carrying water and food cooked by his mother to feed all the workers in the fields. He said that there was always singing, which could be heard across the valleys, as the workers tended to the sugar cane crops. They also planted ackee trees, yams and plantain, which would be harvested and sold at the market in Spanish Town. Coconut, banana and mango trees were abundant in Jamaica, as well as being an important part of the staple diet. His dad shared his crops with the workers and people in the village so everyone could feed their families. It also meant that no one went hungry or needed to steal food as there was enough for everyone. Other farmers in the village did the same. Dad often said almost every tree in Jamaica bears a fruit that can be eaten.

In his early twenties, while still living in Jamaica, Dad fathered his first child, Lilith, with his childhood sweetheart. They were not married. She was sent to England, leaving Lilith with her grandparents. He spent time looking after his daughter in the early years, with the help of his mother, until he too came to England in 1954. He had planned to be reunited with Lilith’s mother, who was living in a shared house in London. However, when he arrived to be with her, she had other ideas about their relationship. She had met someone else. Dad never said how he felt, but it must have come as a big disappointment and shattered his dreams. I am not sure how long he remained in London, but his next stop was Derby where he knew friends from Jamaica.

Lilith came to England to join her mother, but I am not sure at what age. We all knew about her, though Dad never talked about her. When she was sixteen, she moved to America and lived with Dad’s sister, Sephlyn. Lilith visited the UK when I was about seventeen and we met in Bristol for the first time. By then, I was not interested in what had happened in the earlier years, but I know Dad was pleased to see her and they remained in touch until Dad died. She was a lovely person, but we never developed a relationship, although I did try to contact her in later years. She has not been so forthcoming, but the door is always open.

My Parents’ Meeting

Mum arrived in England in 1956 and, like Arthur, lived in London for a short time. However, she didn’t stay there for long, moving to Derby to be with her brother. It was here that she met my dad, who was visiting friends in the same house she lived in, and their relationship blossomed. They soon moved in together and my sister Patsy was born in 1958, and my brother Keith a year later. That same year, Mum and Dad were married.

I don’t know what Dad did for a job in Derby or where they lived, but what I do know is he said he needed a more stable job. He was interested in the construction industry, which was booming in the South West, so he moved the family.