1955 saw me move into Cecil Cree's class at Inchmarlo. I had not been looking forward to this move as the classrooms were only separated by a moveable wooden partition, and Mr Cree's way of running his class was to hurl a wooden blackboard rubber at the recalcitrant pupil. The said rubber would thump into the partition between or class and his. The genial Mr Hall's class seemed a long way from Mr Cree's, but when I got there, it was not as violent as I had imagined
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| Summer at Killard | A hand out of pocket money from my grandfather - not a regular occurrence | This is Kathleen, whom we had as a live in maid for a couple of years, before mother decided having a maid was not worth the hassle |
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| My fathers car outside one of the hospitals that he worked at. It was a second hand Daimler, bought, I think, for the effect | My parents had inherited Uncle John's boat when he died the year before. But there was a fire on board in 1955 and it was gutted and eventually sank, and I remember seeing its wreck gradually disappearing from the Lagan over the years | |