Roxan ~ In My Life with the Beatles

1

1950

My father, Colin Nicholls -my hero. Generous and engaging, a wonderful father, romantic husband, and hard, hard worker. He works at the 3Iron Steel Mill down by the wide Mersey River. 

The job was hard, hot and hairy at times with hot molten liquid perhaps a thousand degrees or more being turned into hard straight cold iron girders and bars for buildings and the like. He was only a labourer so money was little, the work dirty and hazardous but each day he would arrive home so happy.... So happy, like he had just returned from a royal tour shouting greetings and calling our names to "come give me a big bear hug, Roxan, James- grrr!!!!" and swing Nancy around sweeping us off our feet and a kiss or two for good measure.

The house we lived in was located in a narrow cobblestoned lane called Admiral Grove, narrow rows of red brick buildings pressed hard against each other with paper thin walls so we could often here what Mr. Brown 3 doors down thought of his dinner that night! We had a green front door that opened onto a tiny sitting room come living area come dining room come everything!! A small neat kitchen was off that, a tiny bathroom with a tin tub for washing us and the clothes in beside it and upstairs were 2 rooms: my parents had one which was off to the back of the building, with a little window with not much of a view as the row of housing from the other lane nearly butted on to ours. My brother and I had the other smaller room at the front overlooking the street with a slightly bigger window and light green, tattered, curtains.

The Dingle was our area of Liverpool the slum to many from the better, 'posher' parts of town but to us it was home. Our part of the city took the brunt of the bombing from World War II so interspersed with houses were many bomb sites, full of rubble and debris that was once a neighbour or unlucky friends' home which now were playgrounds for the local kids perhaps dangerous but that was how it was no fancy parks for miles bar the church yard which was only open for special occasions and the weekend.

The children would play marbles, hop scotch, knuckles and, if we had it, use chalk to draw in the lane, I had a cane hula hoop which I would twirl every afternoon in front of our houses. I could make it go fast too. Every once in a while, though, my darling brother would hijack it and run it up and down the street with a stick beating against it to turn it round and round off down the lane and round the corner he maybe was not my "favourite" right at that point in time!

Now my brother- I wish I could say he was a bully to me all dramatic like but he really was great (except for the hula hoop incidents), shared with me if he happened by any sweets, helped with my school work and even played with me and my doll if I promised not to tell. So James Patrick Nicholls if your reading this- haha secrets out!!! Jamie is 2 years older than me so at this point in time he is 10 years old, tall for his age and lean with the same sandy blonde (dirty blonde) hair as myself although his was short back and sides like daddy's.

Mother dearest was a lovely sweet lady who would help neighbours less capable, perhaps iron some clothes or share a meal with them. Nancy Clare Nicholls married her childhood sweetheart and blossomed into a radiant woman and caring mother. She was strict but fair and raised us to be polite and outgoing. She loved daddy so much and reminded us all of that every day her eyes shining when she talked about him or he entered the room. Mother had started to study nursing but James wasn't waiting for her to graduate so she used what skills she had acquired to help those in the neighbourhood with any small medical emergency. She didn't mind and always said as soon as us munchkins were old enough she was marching right back through the nursing school doors to finish what she had started.