Up In Annie's Room ----11
Without Prejudice
The best part of living in Huntington for me, was the front of the cafe. On one side was a large window and fryer with a high top counter. On the other was the stainless steel fridges and coolers with its deep containers of milk and ice cream. The milk was always cold and had a stainless steel ladle that we used to dole out the milk for milk shakes and spiders.
The glass fronted counter had display boxes of mates, raspberries, freckles, spearmint leaves, Choo Choo bars, marshmallow sandwiches, sherbets with its bag of sherbet and skinny liquorice straw, packets of fags, white tiny pretend cigarettes and their red ends, coconut quivers and pastel coloured sugared almonds. For us kids that cabinet was a cornucopia of delight, especially me who loved lollies.
Alistair caught me out once filling a little white lolly bag with sweeties and scolded me soundly. I had risen early and snuck into the darkened shop to fill a bag with lollies and he suddenly appeared beside me and yelled out loud. I nearly died on the spot.
" What do you think you are doing ? " he yelled.
" Mum and Dad need the money, you little thief "
I couldn't speak as my jaw was wired shut with a chocolate caramel Mate.
He grabbed me and took me back into the back room and continued to scold me and tears streamed down my guilty face and I hoped he wouldn't wake up Mum and Dad as I would have been mortified. He told them later of course, the snitch and I was sent to bed early that night with no supper. My career as a lolly stealing thief was over.
We kids all helped out in the shop and learned to make milk shakes of chocolate, lime, vanilla, big bottles of syrup on shelves behind us on the wall. There was one called Blue Heaven that I never tried. One scoop of ice cream, a ladle of cold frothy milk, sometimes a scoop of malt powder and a whirr on the milk shake blender and all was done.
We made ice cream sundaes as well with scoops of ice cream in glass gondola boat shaped dishes with a dressing of syrup, chocolate or raspberry and then malt, chopped nuts. Banana splits with its split banana in the bottom, ice cream scoops in the middle, drizzled with chocolate syrup and malt, cream and chopped nuts. Delicious.
There were tables and chairs set out for diners, covered in red and white check tablecloths. Another room off the main one with more tables and chairs that was taken over by the SP bookie on Saturdays with his radio on and the cafe then became a hive of activity. It was all illegal of course, but I will never forget those Saturday afternoons with the blue haze of the smoke from the wood fired oven cooking a roast, the smoke filled air of the men smoking and talking, the noisy radio.
It was the only lively place on a Saturday afternoon in Huntington, a veritable noisy hive of activity and on Sundays was another roast dinner day without the illegal betting. No one was ever caught, we were never raided by the only Police man in town, he knew it went on and turned a blind eye, entertainment in Huntington was on the low end of the scale at any time. I was convinced on Saturday nights everyone sat around watching the hair on the back of their necks grow.
We had lots of itinerant men come in to the Cafe. One took a shine to me and asked if he could take me to the Circus. I had never been to a circus and had no desire to go to one, I have no idea why but I knew ahead of time I wouldn't like it. He was a skinny, wiry dark haired man, short sleeved shirt with a packet of cigarettes tucked into one.
He was over friendly and over enthusiastic and for some reason I didn't trust him., my parents insisted I go and the man provided tickets for all of us kids. I hated it but didnt say so, and acted all enthused about it to him and my parents after but I found the whole thing unfunny, scary and a bit sad.
Sawdust, animals, scary high flying acrobats, clowns that did stupid things, I would rather have stayed home and read Milly Molly Mandy again or The Famous Five, Secret Seven, Billy Bunter, anything but be there in the striped tent sitting on hard wooden seats and trying to laugh at the clowns or gasp at the high wire antics. For some reason I just thought it was awful and was never to see another, no matter who was trying to make me go.
The man came back to the cafe the next day to see how I had liked it and I lied and acted all happy and then totally ignored him, went out of my way to avoid him.There was just something off about him, like he was trying to be over friendly to my parents to get to me or something. My parents bought it, but I didn't. I have no idea what I didn't like about him but a child just knows and my parents were a bit ashamed of my rudeness, but I didn't care.
They say one of my Great Grandmas had the gift of the 2nd sight, she was a bit " Fey ", a Celtic ancestor, superstitious, tossing salt over her shoulder if salt was spilled, never trusting the bad in the world, warding off bad spirits, shooing away the devil. I am the same, even as a child I "sensed" things and was a shy observer of people. Remaining in the background, just watching, observing, analysing. Weighing things up and writing my feelings down as I saw them in my minds eye.
The best part of living in Huntington for me, was the front of the cafe. On one side was a large window and fryer with a high top counter. On the other was the stainless steel fridges and coolers with its deep containers of milk and ice cream. The milk was always cold and had a stainless steel ladle that we used to dole out the milk for milk shakes and spiders.
The glass fronted counter had display boxes of mates, raspberries, freckles, spearmint leaves, Choo Choo bars, marshmallow sandwiches, sherbets with its bag of sherbet and skinny liquorice straw, packets of fags, white tiny pretend cigarettes and their red ends, coconut quivers and pastel coloured sugared almonds. For us kids that cabinet was a cornucopia of delight, especially me who loved lollies.
Alistair caught me out once filling a little white lolly bag with sweeties and scolded me soundly. I had risen early and snuck into the darkened shop to fill a bag with lollies and he suddenly appeared beside me and yelled out loud. I nearly died on the spot.
" What do you think you are doing ? " he yelled.
" Mum and Dad need the money, you little thief "
I couldn't speak as my jaw was wired shut with a chocolate caramel Mate.
He grabbed me and took me back into the back room and continued to scold me and tears streamed down my guilty face and I hoped he wouldn't wake up Mum and Dad as I would have been mortified. He told them later of course, the snitch and I was sent to bed early that night with no supper. My career as a lolly stealing thief was over.
We kids all helped out in the shop and learned to make milk shakes of chocolate, lime, vanilla, big bottles of syrup on shelves behind us on the wall. There was one called Blue Heaven that I never tried. One scoop of ice cream, a ladle of cold frothy milk, sometimes a scoop of malt powder and a whirr on the milk shake blender and all was done.
We made ice cream sundaes as well with scoops of ice cream in glass gondola boat shaped dishes with a dressing of syrup, chocolate or raspberry and then malt, chopped nuts. Banana splits with its split banana in the bottom, ice cream scoops in the middle, drizzled with chocolate syrup and malt, cream and chopped nuts. Delicious.
There were tables and chairs set out for diners, covered in red and white check tablecloths. Another room off the main one with more tables and chairs that was taken over by the SP bookie on Saturdays with his radio on and the cafe then became a hive of activity. It was all illegal of course, but I will never forget those Saturday afternoons with the blue haze of the smoke from the wood fired oven cooking a roast, the smoke filled air of the men smoking and talking, the noisy radio.
It was the only lively place on a Saturday afternoon in Huntington, a veritable noisy hive of activity and on Sundays was another roast dinner day without the illegal betting. No one was ever caught, we were never raided by the only Police man in town, he knew it went on and turned a blind eye, entertainment in Huntington was on the low end of the scale at any time. I was convinced on Saturday nights everyone sat around watching the hair on the back of their necks grow.
We had lots of itinerant men come in to the Cafe. One took a shine to me and asked if he could take me to the Circus. I had never been to a circus and had no desire to go to one, I have no idea why but I knew ahead of time I wouldn't like it. He was a skinny, wiry dark haired man, short sleeved shirt with a packet of cigarettes tucked into one.
He was over friendly and over enthusiastic and for some reason I didn't trust him., my parents insisted I go and the man provided tickets for all of us kids. I hated it but didnt say so, and acted all enthused about it to him and my parents after but I found the whole thing unfunny, scary and a bit sad.
Sawdust, animals, scary high flying acrobats, clowns that did stupid things, I would rather have stayed home and read Milly Molly Mandy again or The Famous Five, Secret Seven, Billy Bunter, anything but be there in the striped tent sitting on hard wooden seats and trying to laugh at the clowns or gasp at the high wire antics. For some reason I just thought it was awful and was never to see another, no matter who was trying to make me go.
The man came back to the cafe the next day to see how I had liked it and I lied and acted all happy and then totally ignored him, went out of my way to avoid him.There was just something off about him, like he was trying to be over friendly to my parents to get to me or something. My parents bought it, but I didn't. I have no idea what I didn't like about him but a child just knows and my parents were a bit ashamed of my rudeness, but I didn't care.
They say one of my Great Grandmas had the gift of the 2nd sight, she was a bit " Fey ", a Celtic ancestor, superstitious, tossing salt over her shoulder if salt was spilled, never trusting the bad in the world, warding off bad spirits, shooing away the devil. I am the same, even as a child I "sensed" things and was a shy observer of people. Remaining in the background, just watching, observing, analysing. Weighing things up and writing my feelings down as I saw them in my minds eye.
