A night to remember

A child's memory of a Lake District holiday and a momentous night in 1945

- A short story by Derek Rogerson

Where were you on VJ DayAugust 15, 1945? Although I lived in Preston at the time I was not in my hometown on this most memorable day.

Auntie Maggie and Uncle Herbert worked as cook and gardener for Lord and Lady Somebody-Or-Other, and as such were tied tenants in cottage at the head of the drive that led up to the 'Big House'.

I had spent quite a few holidays with either them or other Lake District relations, as this had been the region of my birth some eight short years previous.

The day of the 15th had been most enjoyable. I had spent it 'helping' Uncle H in the huge garden that he and his young under gardener Billy tended so lovingly.

I had felt very honoured as he had given me what he announced solemnly as the very important and responsible task of emptying the grass box of the ancient lawnmower, telling me that it was not a job that he would trust to just anyone - eight-year-olds are so gullible.

It was while making my way for the umpteenth time to the ever-increasing grass cuttings mound that I came across my first hedgehog. Uncle H said it had the same name as him and it was a very good friend to the gardener, as it dined on all the slugs and snails and other 'nasties'.

At the end of the afternoon, we went to his own little veg patch where we picked lettuce, onions and radishes for tea before he introduced me to the raspberry canes.

He told me just to pick as many as were needed for our 'afters', but also that I must whistle whilst picking them to keep the wasps away. Like I said, eight-year-olds are so gullible.

We certainly enjoyed our tea that afternoon, the highlight being the recently picked raspberries smothered in thick fresh cream from the little dairy just up the road.