A Trip Back in Time

First of all, I’d like to wish everyone a somewhat belated Happy New Year. Yes, I know we’re a good halfway through February, but all sorts of things seemed to get in the way after Christmas, including a boiler breakdown which left us with no heating or hot water. Luckily we have an excellent heating engineer who sorted the problem out very quickly and got us back to normal. It made me realise how much we tend to take our creature comforts for granted!

As someone who has worked for building companies, both in the commercial and residential sectors, I still take an interest in the housing market. This means I’m a regular visitor to Rightmove. There are some great properties on their website and although it would be lovely to up sticks to a new location, we probably wouldn’t have all the benefits we currently enjoy. Open fields to the rear which are currently being developed into a small country park, good transport links into town, and countless walks within five minutes of home. However, it’s still interesting to see what’s currently on the market. 

Last week, for a change I decided to click on my old home town to check out the houses there. As I scrolled down, I noticed a commercial property for rent. It turned out to be the building which was once home to our local Woolworth back in the day. Its last occupant was the Heart Foundation’s furniture and electrical store, meaning the shop front has been painted in their ‘corporate’ colour of bright red. Looking at the photograph, it took me right back to those long ago summer months, when between leaving grammar school and starting college, I worked there as a Saturday girl.

With exams over, we didn’t have to return school until the final day of term. During that time I had made enquiries about summer employment, was interviewed by the senior supervisor in ‘Woolies’ and accepted. My contract was for Saturdays and the holiday weeks between terms. I began on the grocery section in a far too long white overall (which I had to take up) and matching headgear (similar to a cinema usherettes) with a large red ‘W’ in the centre. Working with the girl who was responsible for the food counter, I restocked shelves and served customers and was taught how to order new stock. This arrived in large wicker baskets on wheels from the stock room on the first floor, and any surplus would be stored in cupboards under the shelves. It was also the early days of frozen food and there was a small deep freeze that sold a limited selection of Birdseye, Ross and Findus foods – mostly burgers and fish. One of my jobs was to take off the protective plastic lid which was put on overnight. I then had to carry it up a short flight of steps to the fire door and pour the water which had gathered on top of the lid overnight, into a nearby drain. As the plastic was quite flexible, it was quite a juggling act to keep the water within the confines of the lid before I reached the drain. I have to confess that on one occasion I didn’t make it but luckily another staff member was quickly to hand with a mop and bucket!

After a couple of weeks, I was moved on from food. I felt really glad to leave my ‘whites’ behind and joining the other girls in their green nylon button through overalls. I gradually worked my way around the store – electrical and lights, jewellery and sweets (remember Pick ‘n Mix?) makeup, biscuits and cakes and hardware. Sadly, I never got to work on the one counter I really wanted to: records.

In those days there were no tills which automatically totalled up the purchases. As part of the interview, each applicant was given a mental arithmetic test – several lists of items to add up in our head. No easy decimal currency calculation then either, as we were still in the world of pounds, shillings and pence!

From 9.00 to 9.30 each day, staff could shop in store. Their purchases were then taken up to the supervisors’ staff room for safe keeping and the goods paid for during the afternoon tea break. We had two tea breaks a day plus an hour for lunch. That summer, from memory, was a hot one and after lunch I would shop or walk down to the park, which was only a few hundred yards away from the high street.

Although a small provincial town, it was a busy store. On Saturday afternoons there was always a group young guys who would wander into the store after drinking in the pub opposite and make a nuisance of themselves. Striped paint and left handed cups were two of the things I remember being asked for on one occasion. Although they were harmless, the manager soon sent them on their way.

At the end of each working day – the store closed at 5.30 – we were let out through the front door where husbands and boyfriends waited to walk their partners home. Living only a couple of miles from the town centre, I used to cycle there and back with a full-timer called Gill. We would leave our unlocked bikes in the alleyway at the side of the store that let to a small printing works. Something you certainly couldn’t safely do today. When summer had ended, I abandoned my bike and caught the bus instead. On colder mornings, several of us early birds used to meet up at the local milk bar and warm up with a coffee as we waited for the shop doors to be unlocked. In those days there was also early closing on Wednesdays. This meant all shops closed at one, giving us the bonus of a half day off.

I stayed at Woolworth until the following summer, when one of the girls in our college group mentioned she could get us jobs in a local food processing factory at nearly double the money I was getting. So I left, and after that summer was over, I waitressed weekends and college holidays in a local restaurant until getting my first secretarial job.

Looking back it was a fun time. Leaving school and entering the world of work. It was my first experience of earning my own money and buying my own clothes. At sixteen, the world seemed an exciting place to be in, with the music and fashions and so much to look forward to. Sometimes when I watch a drama that takes me back to those days, I’m temped to say ‘no, it wasn’t like that at all’. But I guess my view of the world then was slightly rose tinted one…

Until next month…