A few years later, having expanded to include five children, the family’s next move was to the very bottom of the street to number 96. A big rambling house with high ceilings, a huge cellar and the sheer afluence (then) of three bedrooms. My memories of this house are of family togetherness, roaring fires in the hearth at Christmas and the fun and laughter generated by family parties (although I have only the vaguest of memories of my elderly grandparents). Other branches of the family were also to be found on the same street and somewhere down in the area that Mr P has described his house as being situated in – however, they had passed away by the time I came into the world.

My first home was back up at the top end of the street at number 26 (handy for the Newboro’ public house which was more or less opposite our front door) and we had another branch of the family (my father’s brother and family) higher up at number 16.

All these properties are now long gone so, when I want to go back to my roots, there is hardly anything there to go back for. However, for the time being, the pubs are still standing. Mine’s a pint!!