Veronica Mepham (nee Fenn)
24/8/1930 – 12/1/2015
Download the 12 page pdf of memories.
Excerpt from start:
"My Life.
I was born on a Sunday on the 24th of August 1930, when the church bells were ringing for morning service or so my mother told me. At the time my parents were living in the basement of my paternal grandmother's house at 91 Hills Road Cambridge. My Father was trying to make his way as an artist and my Mother worked as a housekeeper to a family in Park Terrace. I have very faint recollections of the basement just as a place of dark frightening shadows. I can just about remember my second sister, Yvonne being born there. It seems that my Father was in partnership with another aspiring artist and my Mother, quite rightly as it turned out, didn't trust him. It seems that they rented a studio between them and one day my Father went to the studio and found everything gone, His partner had disappeared with everything. There was no way that he could set up again from scratch and I believe that they were pretty desperate. Two babies and no money coming in."
Excerpt from page 9:
"When the sun was shining and the day was warm none of those things mattered. We were off across the fields and living wonderful adventures in our imaginations. We used to go across cornfields that are now Birdwood Road and then down a little muddy lane where the blackberries grew in high banks and always the biggest and juiciest were just out of reach, but Mother used to be really pleased when we took a basketful home and always used them to make blackberry pies and, if there were enough, some jam too. They have never tasted as delicious since I have been grown up. Blackberry time was of course harvest time and if we were really lucky we would meet up with a loaded cart being drawn by cart horses and if we really smiled nicely at the driver he would sometimes let us sit on top of the loaded cart or even the horse. An adventure like that would make our day."
Excerpt from start:
"My Life.
I was born on a Sunday on the 24th of August 1930, when the church bells were ringing for morning service or so my mother told me. At the time my parents were living in the basement of my paternal grandmother's house at 91 Hills Road Cambridge. My Father was trying to make his way as an artist and my Mother worked as a housekeeper to a family in Park Terrace. I have very faint recollections of the basement just as a place of dark frightening shadows. I can just about remember my second sister, Yvonne being born there. It seems that my Father was in partnership with another aspiring artist and my Mother, quite rightly as it turned out, didn't trust him. It seems that they rented a studio between them and one day my Father went to the studio and found everything gone, His partner had disappeared with everything. There was no way that he could set up again from scratch and I believe that they were pretty desperate. Two babies and no money coming in."
Excerpt from page 9:
"When the sun was shining and the day was warm none of those things mattered. We were off across the fields and living wonderful adventures in our imaginations. We used to go across cornfields that are now Birdwood Road and then down a little muddy lane where the blackberries grew in high banks and always the biggest and juiciest were just out of reach, but Mother used to be really pleased when we took a basketful home and always used them to make blackberry pies and, if there were enough, some jam too. They have never tasted as delicious since I have been grown up. Blackberry time was of course harvest time and if we were really lucky we would meet up with a loaded cart being drawn by cart horses and if we really smiled nicely at the driver he would sometimes let us sit on top of the loaded cart or even the horse. An adventure like that would make our day."
