IN August 1933 we set off to live in Malvern. After a considerable time without work, my father had been offered a job at the Abbey Hotel.

Our small amount of furniture was piled into a van and, with no room for passengers, father, mother, brother Les and I rode our bikes over from Cheltenham. As I was only seven, I had some help from father who gave me a push every few miles.

I remember my brother falling off his bike and landing in a heap of nettles and cow dung on one stage of the journey; he had to be treated with a dock leaf and spit.

Our new abode was Primitive Cottage, in Newtown Road, down an alley and attached to the Methodist chapel. We found the furniture stacked outside on a patch of grass which was substitute for a lawn.

The porch was covered with an overgrown jasmine bush and the scent was heavenly. There were other smells not quite as pure - our neighbour kept pigs.

We found the communal water pump being used by an old lady who welcomed us with a pot of tea made with this beautifully pure water.

We had never tasted tea quite like it and vowed that tap water was not for us as long as the pump was there.

Steps led to the wash house with sink and gas cooker, with a toilet next door. Mother did not like this arrangement and could see endless trips in all weather down these worn steps.

The sitting room was very small, containing an old black range with an oven on each side. Upstairs were three tiny bedrooms, one unsuitable to use as mould grew everywhere.

Sharing our sitting room wall with the Methodist chapel, we had no need to visit to hear the hymns. Every Sunday after six o'clock we heard the organ and a good choir. Mother always joined in the singing, she had a rich contralto voice. It was rather weird taking part with an unseen congregation.

We were told the chapel was much warmer after we came to live next door, perhaps something to do with the old range which would have been piled high with slack and logs to obtain enough heat to cook the Sunday roast.

In October 1934, twin brothers came upon the scene and six months later we moved to a more convenient house, but we missed our lovely pump water.

John became a well-known pianist and composer in Malvern and Gerald editor of the Malvern Gazette.