91Èȱ¬

Transcript

"I have some marvellous memories of my early childhood with my brother.

His name was Billy. My mother called him Willie. He was my closest friend and ally. A year and five months younger than me, he assisted me in all my ventures. We were thrown together because of a baby sister who was "delicate" and we had adventures my mam didn't know about.

From an early age I was a great climber with nothing too high or too difficult. We climbed together: trees, coal tips, bedroom window sills where we would rule the street because people were afraid to shout in case we fell.

We were also great swearers knowing three swear words for poo. We would march up and down our street, shouting for all who had ears the three naughty words, forwards and backwards, killing ourselves laughing.

Mr and Mrs Thomas across the field kept pigs and when the butcher came to visit, I knew what was about to happen, so with the war cry, "Come on, Bill, they're going to kill a pig over there" we'd be off.

"What's that pig done to you? Nothing! Leave him alone. Someone should slit you from top to bottom. How would you like it done to you?" Billy would accompany him my protest with, "Yeah, that's right!" and brandish my mother's yard brush!

One day we decided to change clothes, so I went into the street dressed in boots, boys' three quarter socks, trousers with braces and a jersey. Bill was wearing my shoes, socks, knickers, petti, dress and a bow in his hair stuck with a clip. I thought he looked cute!

We walked home from school and we were always late because we had so many distractions on our way such as holding our noses passing the slaughter house and calling into the blacksmiths where we loved the noises and smells.

Nearer to home we would run in and out of the men's urinal and climb the walls. A bit nearer still we would climb up the back of the large billboards, it was great at the top shouting "hello" to anyone passing!

They were very special times. Too bad we had to grow up."