05 Summer of 62

The summer holidays: a time for exploration. In Brendan Wright the kids of Crundale Road had a natural leader. At ten years old, Brendan was someone to trust on our expeditions and that summer, that trust took us everywhere.

Petham Green: A peaceful haven for the elderly living in the bungalows surrounding the green, and a magnet for kids wanting to make daisy chains and pick buttercups for the ‘do-you-like-butter’ test. Harmless fun for us but unsettling for the residents, who were quick to shoo us away.

Woodchurch Crescent: Great fun on the swings, less so on the roundabout.  I always ended up sick and dizzy.

Benenden Manor: It seemed a good idea to go in and have a look around this new block of flats, though a warning from an irate resident to ‘stop mucking about and clear off,’ was unnecessary.  One peep over the communal balcony at the rear scared me so much that I was already hugging the wall on my way back to the staircase.

Beechings Way: Other than the playing field, the most exciting thing about Beechings Way was the discovery of two convenience shops, one being on the corner of Thornham Road. The other, on the corner of Headcorn Road, is where one of the girls bought a packet of bubblegum. Not so much for the gum, but for the pop star picture inside. On this occasion she was pleased to get Billy Fury.

Twydall Shops: a wondrous place. Forbuoys newsagent, Woolworths, The Copper Kettle and Arnold’s toy shop were heaven sent, and near the chip shop was a library. Upon learning that a library was a place where I could borrow and read books for free, I rushed to join. Up at shops, I learned what a Jubbly was when I saw a girl slobbering on one whilst sitting on the ramp wall coming down from the Copper Kettle. It looked enormous and how I envied her, though it’d be some time before I got the chance to suck one until I was left with an orange mouth and a tasteless block of ice.

And something else caught my eye; rather than take the ramp or the steps, a big boy was scrambling over the wall by the Copper Kettle. I watched in amazement as he hung by his fingertips before dropping to the small wall below. ‘Wow!’ I thought, as he went casually on his way. How I wished I could do that.

A large hill of soil (where Harbledown Manor would soon be built) was an attraction not to be missed. I climbed it alone, enjoying it so much that I went back down just so I could climb it again. Yes, I was the king of the castle and a dirty rascal, with my shoes full of soil.

Brothers Dave, Mike and me got a rare treat when Mister Heard, our next door neighbour at number 45, invited us to join his three older girls Lynda, Sally and Vivienne on an outing in his car. Going anywhere by car was special for us at anytime, but a first sighting of the glorious Darland Banks made it all the more special. After a couple of hours of throwing a ball around and playing catch, in warm sunshine, we were on our way home again, having enjoyed a memorable afternoon.

Not everyone in Twydall was so friendly. Outside my home on Crundale Road one morning, I saw anger in the face of a big kid striding in my direction on his way to Milstead Road. Who he was I did not know, but a shout and a snarl from him was warning enough for me to hop over our garden wall to safety. Only I wasn’t safe, because he came over the wall and thumped me in my own front garden. 

Shaken by the incident, I asked around as to who my assailant could be. Timmy Spiteful, I was told. Though I doubted that was his real name, it fitted him perfectly.