Part One Ray was a kind brother who played with me and teased me when I was very young, partly, I think, as he missed is infant sister, Stella, born 2 years after him, who died before she was 2 of TB-Meningitis just before penicillin was released. He was a big 11 year-old by the time I came along. He would push me in my pram downhill to nursery wearing his roller-skates while Mum went to work. Neighbours wondered that I wasn’t killed, but I loved it – my first taste of speed.
He called me ‘Greensleeves’ in winter when I had my usual colds and runny nose, as houses were so poorly heated then. He used to amuse me after Sunday dinner, while he was sitting in a big armchair and I sat on the floor at his feet by tapping out the rhythms of songs on the arm of the chair while I guessed their titles. He started with nursery rhymes but soon moved on to his favourites by Lonny Donegan or Tommy Steele.
Ray bore a close resemblance to Tommy Steele, with a cheeky cheerful grin, his hair and eye colour, and his height – well over 6 feet. Coupled with his good looks and easy relaxed manner I am sure they are what helped him with the many promotions he achieved in the Post Office and Civil Service later. He traded up his push-bike to a cherished Lambretta scooter and quickly became the President of the ‘Berko’ (Berkhamsted) Black Knight scooter club, going off with his friend John Williams, a dentist, and other members on weekend jaunts. His time at home grew less as he met new friends and girlfriends.
He was keen for new experiences and applied for an internal transfer to the Post Office in Bulawayo, Southern Rhodesia. He travelled down to Capetown on the SS Stirling Castle. He had a great time out there and returned 2 years later bronzed and with sun-bleached hair. The only thing he hated about the experience was the racial discrimination.
Shirley Wells:
17/07/2021