For those who need a bit of background, Gran is the grandmother of Tracy, a character in two of my books. Gran appears in both Tracy’s Hot Mail and Tracy’s Celebrity Hot Mail where she has been upgraded to major character status. Gran is angsty, politically to the right of Genghis Khan and hates Tracy’s father with a passion. The Book of Gran will be a collection of WW2 memories from her twisted, but sharp as tacks, brain and diary entries from the 1950s and 60s.
Our junior school didn’t have an air raid shelter and Mr Churchill said we weren’t allowed into the schoolhouse until the corporation found the money to build us one. So, for quite a long while we had our lessons in different parts of the town. On warm, dry days, the teacher used to take us to the cemetery where we’d sit and try to memorise our times tables. My young boyfriend. Freddie (Fritz) Fischer, said that they took us there so they could bury us quickly if we were all killed by a bomb.
I loved Fritz, his dad was a German and he was arrested on the first day of the war because the police thought that he might be a spy. He wasn’t, he was so patriotic he kept a signed photo of Mr Churchill on the door of his outside lavvy. Fritz’s mum was Irish and she really hated Mr Churchill but they didn’t bother arresting her. I think the local policeman used to like the poteen she made in her back room. I often saw him stuffing a bag of spuds into her passage. My dad said that wasn’t the only thing PC Tomkins stuffed into her passage. I think he meant onions.
I showed Fritz my knickers once. He had two brothers and had never seen a pair of female pants shorter than the starched, knee-length bloomers his mum used to hang on the line.
His eyes didn’t half light up when I showed him my drawers. Afterwards, I demanded to see what he had on under his shorts. He didn’t wear underpants, so I got to see his willy instead.