Welcome to the Dunkerley-Tuson Family Website!

Holidays and Travel
Irene always enjoyed a travelling - anything from a day out to a holiday would serve. Referring to the time when she was still at school, she wrote:

“The most exciting Saturday in the whole year was the last one in August even though by early [Friday] evening it turned chilly, and on dismal days the lights had to be turned on. Why was that particular Saturday so very special? We were off on our annual holiday for a whole week! During Friday night, almost without fail, the rain pelted down and we listened with anxious faces wondering with down-cast hearts whether it could possibly cease while we packed up the car for the long looked-forward journey to the seaside. We were so relieved when we wakened to a bright morning with everything looking clean and fresh as we ourselves were, after all having been in the bath on Friday night. One thing which has stuck in my mind about that Friday is that all the hair-brushes must be washed, and I’m not sure whether my memory was at fault then, but I can never remember them being washed at any other time.”

“My earliest memory of holiday time was when we stayed in a boarding house in Prestatyn [near Rhyl in North Wales], and of the landlady showing us which cupboard was allocated to us for keeping our food. Some we had taken with us, but the first job was then to go buying-in at the corner shop and deciding what we would have for the next meal, and also for the Sunday dinner. We then presented it to the landlady, and she would do the cooking, so it was hard luck if she wasn’t much of a cook, because we were landed with her for the week. If we hadn’t taken condiments with us, she would allow us to use her salt and pepper, and add one shilling to the bill.”

“I can’t remember a great deal about the week, only about the sea and how we loved the donkey rides, and paddling, but not getting dry afterwards as the sand was like emery paper on our skins. Later on Bridlington became our favourite holiday place, but I suppose it was really our father’s choice because he enjoyed going out in a small boat with his rod and line and two or three fellows he had made friends with and his favourite pipe packed down with Tam O’Shanter [tobacco], and if he caught two or three dabs, he was a contented man (photo). We had progressed beyond the lodging house stage, now staying at The Queen’s Café where we had all our meals served, and had bedrooms on the first floor, so we all enjoyed that, especially mother who didn’t need to think about feeding us for a whole week.”

“Another ‘break’ we three children and mother occasionally had during the long school holidays was on a farm high up on the Moors the other side of Oldham with friends, and away from smoke from the host of cotton mills. Actually it was a poultry farm more than anything else, and was situated on the side of a hill which bore the name Pots and Pans, and it was not difficult to understand why when the rocky outline was seen against the sky – for there certainly was some resemblance to a pile of Pots and Pans. From the cottage we could look down on what appeared to be a toy town and watched the trains crossing the viaduct [at Uppermill] and could just about hear the whistles and make out the puffs of steam. We found it fascinating. Apart from that, and feeding the hens and collecting eggs we found that a few days away from our friends was enough.”

In reality, Irene enjoyed plenty of holidays, for example the family visited Blackpool in 1929 and Irene had a holiday with sister Mary and cousin Doris in 1931 (photo). As described above, she went with the family in 1932 to Bridlington and in 1933 they went to Cleveleys [on the Lancashire coast between Fleetwood and Blackpool] together with her cousin Raymond Cooper. In 1933 she visited Alton Towers and Rhos on Sea [near Colwyn Bay]. In 1934 Irene, Mary, Raymond and Edna Sheane (Vera’s older sister) were at Llandudno (photo) and Vera Sheane was at Cleveleys. At Easter in 1935 Irene, Mary, Edna and Jessie Gent visited Hetty’s relatives at Colemere, near Wem in Shropshire and in 1936 and 1937 Irene was on holiday in the Isle of Man, probably not for the first time.

The family was very fortunate, for the 1930s were times of extreme economic difficulty and high unemployment, particularly in the old industrial areas of Britain, as explained elsewhere. Nevertheless she and her siblings accepted as normal that the family should have a car and that they should drive off for holidays each year to destinations that were definitely a cut above what most people were able to afford.

Irene always enjoyed travelling and the various trips made to visit relatives in the Preston area, or to Wales, have been mentioned previously. The car, of course, was not always reliable and on one occasion it broke down miles from help and the family were left sitting on a farm gate while their father set off walking to summon assistance. A stay in a Bed and Breakfast followed and the kids thought it was a good adventure!

Even in later life, there was always one proposal guaranteed to raise Irene’s interest – the offer of a ride out in the car. The day brightened, adventure called!

Making a Catch

By the second half of the 1930s Irene was old enough to marry and she must often have wondered about her chances. No doubt she and her sister Mary often talked about romance, and confided in each other their opinions about the various boys they knew. Mary, of course, being two years older, would always have been a bit of an authority on such matters, and she was more self-confident, in part because she did not have to cope with misshapen feet and legs. Irene must have often have compared Mary’s nice straight legs and elegant shoes with her own; in later life she often expressed pleasure in seeing children with good sturdy legs.

By the time she had been directing operations at her sweet and tobacconist shop for a couple of years the tenor of the girls’ chatter must have begun to take on a different tone. Although Dick had unceremoniously removed Mary from Harpurhey High School and put her to work attending customers in his shop, she had maintained contact with a good school friend called Jessie Gent (photo). Jessie’s father, George William Gent, owned a watchmaker, jeweller and opticians business at 704 Oldham Road in Newton Heath. The Gent family was socially well-placed, counting, other jewellers, diplomats, civil servants and export agents among its ranks and Mr. Gent was – in Irene’s words ‘good with youngsters’; he played darts with them and constructed a putting green in his back garden. Jessie had relations in Clitheroe, including an eligible second cousin called Arthur, and by 1934 Arthur and Mary had met and had liked what they had seen. Mary no doubt discussed Arthur with Jessie but in who better could she confide her feelings and hopes than her sister Irene? And Irene never gossiped.

As the years passed and Mary and Arthur began to imagine a future together, Irene must have wondered if she would ever meet her Prince Charming. We know that there had been a little flirtation with boys that she met on holiday, and with one or two that she met locally through church, or her friends such as Edna Sheane, but Irene was self-conscious and shy.

Irene reached and passed the age at which Mary had met Arthur, and still had no real prospects of her own. However, things were about to change. One day while at St. John’s in Failsworth she got into a conversation there with a serious young man called Leslie Dunkerley, quite a few years her senior, who invited her on a date to the theatre. She was 21.

Irene would have been well aware of Leslie because he was very active at St. John’s. He had a long association with the church and at the time he was the Scout Master and also a Sunday School teacher.

She would also have been aware of the Dunkerley family, and indeed her mother recalled that she had delivered milk to them when they lived at Old Road in Failsworth. Hetty remembered Selina (Leslie’s mother) coming to the door to collect the milk with two or three little children round her skirts, one of whom, presumably, was Leslie. Later, Leslie and his older brother Albert used to help Hetty with the milk and they also helped a bit on the family farm at Woodhouses, hay-making and so on. Irene, Mary and Richard would have been there too.

Billy Dunkerley, Leslie’s father, was a well-known local figure because he was a magistrate and had been Chairman of Failsworth Council four times. Irene remembered being in her sweet shop the day in April 1936 when a customer came in and said ‘Billy Dunkerley’s died!’

The date with Leslie was a good one – seats at the Opera House in Manchester to see ‘Die Fledermaus’ on 22nd March 1938 – and Irene accepted. She went from Hollinwood by train and Leslie met her at Victoria station in Manchester, direct from his work. There was not much time to walk across town before the performance began. Leslie was always a swift walker and it was all that Irene could do to keep up with him – but she refused to ask him to slow down! The show was marvellous, the date a success, and the girl was anxious to get home and tell Mary how she had got on!

As Irene’s father was happy enough that she should be with Leslie, a courtship ensued. After all, Leslie came from a respectable family, was of mature age and seemed a genuine sort of chap, even if he didn’t have a favourite local nor was a member of a working man’s club. He was in fact working as a ‘Cashier’ for Manchester Corporation Housing Department and Dick no doubt thought he seemed likely to be able to provide a reasonable standard of living for his daughter. The couple used to see each other at church, probably on Sunday evenings, and during the week on Tuesdays and Saturdays. The earliest photo of Irene and Leslie together was taken on 10th September 1938 at Bernard Wilcockson and Edna Sheane’s wedding (photo).

Leslie conducted a good courtship campaign; there were birthday gifts and cards, Christmas presents, and letters displaying affection, humour and earnestness. It continued through 1939 when war with Germany broke out and by 1940, with the war going badly, there was a more serious tone to the relationship. In a letter to mark Irene’s birthday on 29th November Leslie wished her “health, enough of wealth, friends, the sense of doing some good to others, and so spreading happiness”. He said: “You have been very dear to me, and we always will remain such sure friends and companions, the one to the other, I know, because of the joy I feel when we are together”. But he also sent her humorous verses that he had written himself.

Leslie had already discovered the enchantment of the Lake District while a Scout and he and Irene made at least one visit to the area, in the company of Irene’s sister Mary and Arthur Jones, probably before 1941 (photo). It would be interesting to be able to quiz the four of them about this event, for it is far from clear that it had full parental blessing. The evidence, such as it is, seems to indicate that Mary was authorised to accompany Arthur, by then perhaps her fiancé, on the visit as long as she was chaperoned by Irene. However, in Ambleside bus station the trio, according to Irene, was quite taken aback when Leslie suddenly appeared! They probably had a nice time and very much enjoyed each others’ company. I suspect it was on a later Lakeland visit in 1941 that Irene acquired a book in Grasmere by the Rev. H. V. Morton – perhaps a present from Leslie who was a fan of Morton – entitled ‘In the Steps of the Master’, and it was perhaps then that they were accompanied by their good friends Margaret and Eric Brereton.

Mary and Arthur married in April 1941 (photo) and later the same year Leslie plucked up courage to ‘pop the question’ to Irene. Probably to his relief, she accepted and the couple agreed to become engaged on Irene’s next birthday, her twenty-fifth. It was obviously arranged in advance, for the ring, with three diamonds, was bought for £11-10s from Gents the Jewellers in good time, and even a fine Chinese carpet was purchased in Irene’s name four days before what Leslie called the date of a ‘great engagement’ – 29th November 1941. In a letter to mark the occasion Leslie repeated the wishes expressed on Irene’s previous birthday but also wished for her ‘the fellowship of Jesus’. He added, “your sweet companionship and loving regard, I cherish above all things on earth”.

Things then progressed swiftly. Banns were read the following January and on 7th February Leslie and Irene were married at St. John’s church, Failsworth. The witnesses were Mary and Irene’s brother Richard plus Leslie’s brother Clare. The reception was held at the Union Club in Oldham and the icing on the cake ….. was made of cardboard! There was a war on! The happy couple went to live at 28, Lord Lane, Failsworth, where Leslie had been living with his widowed mother, Selina, and his niece, Jean, daughter of Albert.

The newly-weds didn’t waste much time in getting starting a family, for about the end of 1942 Irene became pregnant. Her GP, Dr. Strachan, expressed some concern over possible complications, because of the legacy of polio, so a specialist was consulted. In the event everything went well and Christine was born at St. Mary’s Hospital in Manchester in September. Irene was obliged to stay in hospital for about two weeks, which could not have been easy, especially because visiting by Leslie and others was tightly restricted. Food was poor due to the war rationing and Leslie was kept busy foraging for little luxuries to supplement the meagre hospital fare.

 
Life at 28 Lord Lane for Irene and Leslie and the baby, was difficult for everyone. The young family had the front room downstairs and one bedroom. Until Christine was born, Irene used to go from Ferrantis, where she still then worked, to her mother’s house at Montgomery Street for lunch and Leslie used to travel by train and tram to his work, by then in a much-improved job as company secretary at St. George’s Engineers in Salford.

Living conditions were cramped and eventually Irene clashed with her mother in law about how best to care for the baby. Irene then left, baby and all, for her mother’s home and would not go back! Faced with such a difficult problem Leslie began looking for alternative accommodation. He considered renting a house at Pole Lane in Failsworth, but the plan fell through. However, soon afterwards he found, and was able to buy, a fine, quite new, semi-detached house at 1, Circular (later Chauncy) Road, New Moston, based on a mortgage loan. The house cost £900 and the furnishings, including a quality oak dining room suite, a walnut bedroom suite and a lovely three-piece suite for the sitting room, were another £450. This was a real stroke of luck because during the war good furniture was very hard to come by. Mother, father and baby daughter had moved in to their new home by October 1944 and the comparatively huge amount of space, the nice furnishings and the privacy must have seemed like heaven on earth!

Two years later, the war having ended, in October 1946, Irene and Leslie’s son, Philip (me!), was born at Boundary Park Hospital, Oldham. With this, Irene and Leslie’s family was complete (photo).

From about that time onwards family life took on quite an even tenor. Leslie continued bringing home the bacon from St. George’s Engineers and in the winter evenings was often out at Masonic meetings. Irene ran the home and looked after the kids, who grew up and went to the local infants and junior schools in New Moston, then on to the local Grammar Schools – Irene must have felt very pleased because Christine’s school was the old Harpurhey High School where Mary had not been allowed to complete her course. A cat – Fluffy – was acquired from the Kershaws at New Moston Inn, and became a part of the family for ten years. Strong family attachments developed with the local St. Chad’s church (at which the Rev. W. Poyser Bullock was still the vicar) where the family attended services, and the children went to Sunday school and were later confirmed. Christine enjoyed being a valuable member of St. Chad’s Brownies and Guides; Philip similarly enjoyed being a member of the local 346th NE Manchester (The Stables) Cubs and Scouts. There were family outings, typically to visit Irene’s sister, Mary Jones, and family at Clitheroe, or with the Jones’ to the seaside at Southport, or into the lovely Trough of Bowland. Other than the name of the road changing from ‘Circular’ to ‘Chauncy’, there was considerable stability – just what was needed to bring up a family.

I need to set down a few personal recollections about Irene. The first things that come to mind are that she was a loving and comforting mother who worked hard, set high standards of cleanliness and provided an excellent home. Some of my earliest memories of her are from pre-school days; there was plenty of warmth, affection and kisses. I used to enjoy sitting together after lunch to listen to the radio broadcast for children on the BBC Light programme at a ‘Quarter To Two’. The programme started with nursery rhymes, continued with a story and then ended with more nursery rhymes. When the closing theme came on she would say ‘Well, this won’t buy the baby a new bonnet!’, and get up to continue her housekeeping.

There was something of a routine to the week – Monday was washing day, followed of course by drying, ironing and airing. The clothes were mostly hung on washing lines in the garden to dry, and sometimes ‘smuts’ of soot would land on them – from the coal-burning fires of houses and factories. Shopping was all done locally at small family establishments – Woods for the bread, Roonies for fruit and vegetables, McIntosh’s chemists, William’s (later Carter’s, then Hatton’s) sweet and newspaper shop. We used to have groceries and meat delivered to the home – I don’t really know why, but wonder if it was perhaps to save Irene having to walk so much. Everything was paid for in cash (and nothing was ever bought on credit – hire purchase being the most common form of credit available at the time; if you couldn’t afford it, you saved up until you could).

Dusting and vacuuming had to be done every week – the world seemed a dustier place then than it is now – and with so much industry around the area probably was. But once a year Irene got on with her spring cleaning, when somehow she managed to pull all the wardrobes and cupboards from the walls to clean and vacuum behind them. She was tougher than she looked. Pretty much every day she cooked, usually a very English diet of meat, potatoes and vegetables; no spaghetti, nothing tropical, salt but no pepper, and certainly nothing so exotic as coriander, basil or saffron! Leslie would never have thanked her for introducing any variations on a good Lancashire diet – although they did eventually graduate to choosing scampi at restaurants! But if plain, everything was tasty, wholesome and fresh. While the address was Circular Road I don’t believe we had a fridge, and certainly no freezer, so portions were measured out and you were expected to eat everything on your plate (although it may seem hard to believe, there were no microwave ovens in what Leslie would have called ‘the old days when mother was a boy!). If you wanted to have a friend round for tea, which was allowed, it had to be arranged in advance so that enough food could be prepared.

We were encouraged to eat salad of lettuce, tomato, perhaps celery and watercress, and a little fruit – almost exclusively apples, oranges and bananas (but I remember occasionally picking the juicy bits out of a pomegranate with a pin) – and were always encouraged to eat lots of bread and butter 'to fill you up’.

Irene cooked well – I already said everything was tasty – and she was also a dab hand at baking. It would have been unusual not to be able to find some fruit cake, jam tarts, scones, minced pies or, in later days, crunchie in the tins stacked on shelves in the pantry, although you had to ask before you took something. And at weekends there was often a home-made apple pie or a lemon meringue pie that didn’t last long. The introspection needed to write this has reminded me that we used to have plenty of sponge pudding – jam, apple, raisin or, my favourite, syrup – with Bird’s Custard made from powder and milk. We were always a family considered to have greater than average milk consumption – four pints a day (delivered to the home in glass bottles) went up to six pints as the kids grew bigger. Most of it went on corn flakes, wheatabix, shredded wheat, or occasionally cereal exotica, but my propensity to consume glasses of milk ‘when he’s not got anything else to do’ was tolerated (almost without complaint).

As far as I can remember we always had a telephone – it was a heavy black Bakelite contraption sporting the number ‘FAI 1558’ (for Failsworth) that used to sit in the corner of the windowsill in the front room. It was liberating for Irene because it enabled her to keep in touch with friends and family, while Leslie used it for fixing up his Masonic business. As I mentioned, Irene didn’t gossip (she was a good listener), and I would say that Leslie’s calls were always longer than hers, by an order of magnitude!

Once a car had been acquired life was much enriched and Irene’s mobility limitations were pretty much overcome. Florrie allowed Irene to visit her mother, sister Margaret, brother Richard and her closest friends. Later, of course, she drove the family cars for tireless thousands of miles to drop off and collect children and grandchildren. She was a selfless servant to the family, but no doubt got pleasure from being helpful.

Irene used to darn socks as needed and did a little sewing, but had no real skills in that area, though she did a fair bit of knitting. She didn't get very involved in the garden either – perhaps because of physical limitations – although she very much enjoyed gardens, flowers and indeed the countryside. That was not ‘her department’ (as Leslie would have said)!

The family enjoyed listening to the radio (only much later was there, in fact, more than one radio in the house), and Irene also liked to read ‘a good book’ or the day’s newpapers in the evening when she ‘put her feet up’ for a rest. (We used to have The Manchester Guardian delivered every morning, The Evening Chronicle at tea time, The Radio Times weekly and the sports newspaper always referred to as ‘The Pink’ on Satudays). 

When the children were young, Irene's morning routine started with a cup of tea, taken to her in bed by Leslie at about half-past seven, on his way off to catch the train at Failsworth station to take him to work. After that Irene was out of bed, into her corsets (sometimes Christine or I sneaked into bed with her for a few minutes in the morning, so we knew these things!) and other clothes and off downstairs to make sure we left for school on time. It was the daily round, the common task, but for Irene it pretty much furnished all that she needed to ask.

Over time there were many changes – some alluded to above – but these were mostly quite gradual. An exception was the acquisition of the car, which occurred in about March 1952. Irene had long been used to having the convenience of a family car, but such extravagance had not existed in Leslie’s family. As Leslie progressed at St. George’s and as annual bonuses that he received were used to reduce and eventually pay off the mortgage, so it occurred to Irene that a car could be afforded. She broached the subject with the breadwinner of the family who pointed out that neither of them was able to drive. To his surprise the response was “We can learn!” And learn they did. Irene passed her test first, soon followed by Leslie. She was probably the better driver.

The first car was a second-hand fawn Ford Prefect – registration KXP 655 – known affectionately as ‘Florrie the Ford’. It was a satisfactory vehicle that could be persuaded to travel in a straight line by constant sideways adjustments of the steering wheel. It could be coaxed up to about 60 mph, which seemed immensely fast and dangerous, and probably was. After a couple of years Florrie was traded in for a brand new, bright blue, Ford Consul – registration HBA 199 – dubbed ‘Charlie’. He in time ceded place to a more powerful green Consul Mark II, also called ‘Charlie’ – registration VVR 604. After that Leslie was given a company car and chose a Hillman Super Minx (registration 8832 TD), from which a wheel fell off, but he and Irene also bought one of the new Minis and so became a ‘two-car-family’. I learned to drive in that Mini but can’t remember the registration (it contained an ‘NE’); it was like driving a surfboard but seemed wonderful at the time. Later Leslie downsized to a Van den Plas 1100.

 
Having a car transformed life. Longer day trips became possible, for example into the Peak District, as did holidays further afield - to Teignmouth, Woolacombe in Devon, Grange over Sands, Swanage, the Lake District, and later to Scotland! Florrie, Charlie and Co. were shrinking our world! We never had a car radio, instead we would while away the miles by playing ‘I Spy’ or ‘Dog’ (you had to shout “Dog!” if you saw one first; in those days people just let their dogs roam around), or we would sing. Leslie had a nice voice and knew many songs, garnered from Scout camp fires, English tradition, Gilbert and Sullivan, and Hymns Ancient and Modern, as well as popular songs. Christine and I added more modern contributions. I don’t remember Irene joining in the singing, but she put up with our efforts without complaint!

We were thus a comfortable middle class family where everything necessary was provided. Besides comfort there was decency and respectability – but little extravagance. There was no hardship but there was a strong sense of thriftiness, respect for money and ‘living within your means’. To illustrate the way things were, on one occasion when visiting Oldham market I saw a special offer on kitchen scissors that looked really good (and, I believe, proved so to be), and as the kitchen scissors at home were old and barely worked, I bought them – with the housekeeping money. Arriving home I produced the excellent acquisition with a flourish, only to be told off vehemently by a vexed mother for spending on something without permission!

Virtually no alcohol was consumed at home, neither did the pub see any of the family income. Nor, during that period, did local restaurants. If there was extravagance it benefited the local sweetshops because Leslie and Irene each had a sweet tooth and needed to make up for time lost as a result of rationing during and after the Second World War.

The relationship between Irene and Leslie was probably typical of the time and within the traditions of both their parents. A woman’s place was in the home, where Irene was expected to manage the buying, washing and cleaning, and care of the children. While in New Moston she never had a share of the family bank account, much less an account of her own. Instead Leslie would ask her how much she needed for immediate expenses, and provide her with the appropriate amount in notes. He paid larger bills from the bank account by cheque.

There was always respect and trust between the spouses, in all things, and I never had reason to doubt such trust. Leslie was amenable to progressively introducing labour-saving devices into the home as these came along. So a primitive washtub and dolly gave way to a small Hoover electric washing machine, then a larger top-loading Parnell and a drum dryer. There was a Kenwood cake mixer, and an electric potato-peeler was tried but ended up on a high shelf at the back of the cupboard.

The radio, in the living room, was built by Uncle Clare, but Irene and Leslie waited until Christine and I had both left school before they allowed themselves to have a television, so that it would not interfere with our homework – I sometimes felt left out of the school chat when everyone else was excitedly discussing ‘what was on ‘tele’ last night’. A compact piano appeared that I understood had been Uncle Clare’s, and both Christine and I had piano-lesson money invested (not very profitably) in us. Dad, however, would sometimes sit down at the piano and enjoy knocking out tunes by ear – he didn’t read music but was actually quite talented. Eventually we had a record player, the first records including LPs of the Mikado, the Gondoliers and Flanders and Swan’s ‘At the Drop of a Hat’ – a wonderful production.

The home was kept well painted and decorated by Mr. Tasker, but there was no do-it-yourself. For one thing, do-it-yourself did not exist then as a concept, but in any case Leslie was famously unschooled in anything to do with tools. His mother had said that Leslie’s work was ‘yed wark’ (head work), and I still joke that the only tools in the house while I was growing up were two screwdrivers, a coal hammer and a couple of bed spanners. And that isn’t far off the truth!

The accommodation at Chauncy Road was gradually improved. A sizeable back porch or outhouse was added, a garage was squeezed on at the side (Fig. 95) and a coke bunker at the back complemented the built-in ‘coal place’. There was never any central heating (or double glazing – it didn’t exist then) and in severe weather condensation used to freeze to the inside of the windows. We had, however, copious quantities of hot water, provided by a ‘back boiler’ behind the fireplace in the dining room at the back of the house. Leslie’s brother, Albert, built a substantial brick wall to block access from the back garden to the insalubrious wilds of Moston Brook that ran behind the house. St. George’s Engineers built a children’s swing of steel girders that seemed designed to outlast the Eiffel Tower, and a large garden shed became the repository for children’s bicycles and the lawn mower.

Leslie and Irene grew up at a time that very much pre-dated the ‘sexual revolution’. Couples tended not to be ‘touchy-feely’ and kisses tended to be ‘pecks’ on the cheeks (at least in public!). These were times when birth control methods were unreliable yet families often wanted to avoid having more children than they felt they could afford. For many people, therefore, sex was a risky activity, indulged in to satisfy the rather irksome urges of the husband in an attempt to stop him seeking satisfaction outside the marriage. Female pleasure often did not come in to it.

No doubt some couples cheated on each other or indulged in ‘frivolous sex’, but there is reason to believe that Leslie and Irene steered a middle course, honoured each other and both drew enough satisfaction from their relationship to feel that they had a loving marriage and reason for happiness and contentment. They both knew which side their bread was buttered; they understood the dividends respectability paid and felt it was a fair deal.

There were quarrels, but never blows; there were raised voices, but never swearing; harsh words were spoken, but never cruel ones. In the end, as I understood it, Leslie’s word would be the final one. But maybe Irene was the ‘fause’ one and perhaps she got her way more often than I appreciated. Leslie and Irene enjoyed over 54 essentially happy years of marriage together and there is no doubt that their relationship was one of love and respect.

There were not many activities that we did together as a family, but card and board games were an exception – Christine and I becoming precociously good at Canasta, and later fair whist players. We played snap, strip-jack-naked, Happy Families, various forms of patience, ludo, Cluedo, snakes and ladders and Donkey, at which Irene excelled. There was to be no cheating!

If Mum had pretty clear ideas about what we should and should not do, and how we ought to behave, Dad was the one who laid down the law. Mum would rarely smack us, instead promising punishment ‘when Dad comes home’. And Dad had a quick hand that hurt! I seemed to bear the brunt and had to contend with Christine telling tales, as well as paying my dues for bad reports put in by Mum. There seemed to be plenty of smacks, and there were arguments too. Many issues were resolved summarily by Dad, both with Irene and with me.

Life at Chauncy Road thus continued to roll onwards. Christine took her school ‘O’-level exams and passed five subjects, following which she left school and went to work at the head office of William Deacon’s Bank in Manchester. She discovered the attraction of boyfriends and at age 21 married Clif Cooke at St. Chad’s church in 1964. They went to live at Radcliffe-on-Trent in Nottinghamshire where Christine worked for Boots the Chemists for a time. Philip took ‘O’-levels and then ‘A’-levels, following which he graduated in geology and geography at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne. He joined the mining group Rio Tinto to work in mineral exploration and had spells in various countries including Brazil, where he met and married Nilma Leopoldino.

Christine and Clif eventually gave Irene and Leslie three grandsons, following which Philip and Nilma evened things up by presenting them with three granddaughters.

Retirement

After the children left home and as Leslie was approaching retirement, he and Irene decided to move to a bungalow at 555, Bolton Road in Bury, an event that took place in 1966. This then became the base for many happy retirement activities, including helping and enjoying Christine and family, who returned from Nottingham to live close by.

Irene had always enjoyed reading a little poetry, or romantic stories such as 'My Cousin Rachel' and later I remember she became very fond of a series of stories about Hebridean folk written by Lillian Beckwith. Irene and Leslie had also been members of the Oldham Repertory Theatre Company ('the Rep') and enjoyed a large number of plays - and Irene also used to go there with her sister Margaret, or other friends.

As retirement loomed Irene and Leslie bought a television which they both came to enjoy. Irene could get hooked on tennis or snooker and enjoyed plenty of other documentary and travel programmes. She and Leslie would allow themselves to watch 'Coronation Street' too, but only because they felt that actors such as Violet Carson and Albert Tatlock were real Northern characters with good repertory backgrounds; I don't think they ever watched any other 'soaps'. In the same way Irene later enjoyed 'The Last of the Summer Wine'. Irene - more than Leslie - also used to enjoy listening to classical and light-classical music programmes on the television or the radio.

During 'the Bury years' Irene often either baby-sat for Christine's children or arranged to have them round at '555' for tea so that Chris could get on with other things. Irene enjoyed having a 'little one' sit with her to watch children's television programmes, but also used to read books a lot with the boys, and play easy games - such as card games - with them.
 

Bury was also well situated for easier access to Mary and Arthur Jones at Clitheroe, and to the Lake District where Irene and Leslie bought a fixed caravan at White Cross Bay, Windermere. Many happy times were spent there, often in the company of friends or family, and Christine and Cliff bought three cabin cruisers, in succession, each larger than the previous one, which they sailed on Windermere. Irene and Leslie enjoyed several other splendid holidays, with Mary and Arthur and with Doris Warhurst (Irene’s cousin) in Norway (which they loved), Ireland and Austria. They also became friends with Eva Sandner, from Hungary, who came to stay with them several times, and they in turn enjoyed visiting Eva in Hungary.

Leslie and Irene did not have many interests in common. Leslie tended to dedicate himself to Freemasonry, religious studies, an enjoyment of Lancashire dialect, and Scrabble, while Irene developed lasting friendships with ladies such as Ida Henderson, Margaret Brereton, Amy Allen, Alice Howard, her sister Margaret Tuson and her cousin Doris Warhurst. Over the years she enrolled herself for a series of evening classes in, for example, pottery or landscape painting. In later years she took up swimming as an activity that helped to maintain her mobility by providing her with gentle exercise. In addition she served the community by driving for many years for 'Meals on Wheels' with the WRVS (Women’s Royal Voluntary Service), an organization that took hot meals round to the elderly who were unable to cook for themselves. She was also an active member of the Mother’s Union for more than fifty years.

Irene thus kept herself busy while Leslie was ‘off with the boys’ at Masonic events. From her point of view, an upside of Leslie’s involvement in Freemasonry was that the couple were able to enjoy a number of gala events – ‘Ladies Evenings’ – each year, that provided the perfect excuse for a girl to ‘have her hair done’, don a full-length posh dress and get out the jewellery. The company at these events was invariably enjoyable, the meal good, and there was a session of whist (already mentioned) and dancing. And this is probably a good place to mention that although Irene never had a big appetite, she always had room for a sweet – peach-melba was a favourite!

Arthur and Mary Jones often attended the same Ladies Evenings as Irene and Leslie, and the two couples were blessed in always enjoying each other’s company. Besides taking holidays together there were many happy visits to Clitheroe where Arthur revelled in showing them the beautiful countryside of the Ribble Valley and many secluded fine pubs and restaurants.

In 1984 Christine, Clif and family moved to Northorpe, near Bourne in Lincolnshire, after Clif obtained employment in Peterborough. Irene and Leslie made some happy visits there, until the marriage broke down, acrimoniously, in 1986. A divorce followed, which was a great sadness for them.

In the meantime Irene and Leslie much enjoyed a visit to Brazil to see Philip and Nilma, and Nilma’s family, in 1978 (see photo in Rio). Philip and Nilma moved from Brazil to Portugal, and then Philip changed employer and the family moved first to Holland, then to Spain and finally to Chile. Irene and Leslie were able to visit Philip and Nilma in Portugal, Holland and Spain, but Chile proved a step too far! Philip, Nilma and the family contrived to make annual visits to see Irene and Leslie, but in 1991 returned to live permanently in England to provide their children with stability for their secondary education.

Their original plan was to live in the Bury area, but Leslie decided that his active retirement days, mainly comprising Masonic activities, were over and suggested that he and Irene move to Bourne in Lincolnshire so as to be able to provide better support to Christine, and to be better able to enjoy their grandchildren. Philip and Nilma decided that they too would settle in Bourne to ensure that the girls would have the opportunity to better get to know their grandparents. Irene and Leslie bought a bungalow at 19, Westbourne Park and enjoyed five happy years there, during which time they celebrated their Golden Wedding (photo).

Irene and Leslie also shared a common view of right and wrong, of what should and should not be done, and they were able to pass on to their children a sense of morality and a set of standards that were reinforced at Sunday School, at Guides and Scouts, at Grammar School and, in younger days, each evening in family prayers. You tried your best, you were honest, you played fair. Not to do so was to end up with a bad conscience.

After Leslie died in 1996 following several years of gentle decline Irene adapted with courage to living alone. She acquired a cat named Ceefor (C-for-Cat!) and soldiered on, trading the car in for a mobility scooter. Eventually the long-term depredations of polio reduced her mobility to such an extent that she became unable to maintain an independent life and at the end of 2002 she moved to live with Philip and Nilma, with support from Christine. A consolation in these difficult years was the appearance of three great grandchildren, courtesy of Christine. So she continued, accepting a multitude of difficulties, including eventually Alzheimer’s disease.

Day is Done
Irene’s life ended quite suddenly and unexpectedly. In May 2005 she became unwell and was admitted to Stamford hospital where it was discovered that she had contracted an infection. Remedial treatment was impossible and, following a hugely moving visit from the vicar of Bourne, she slipped quietly away, surrounded by family. It was the fifth day of the fifth month of the fifth year of the century, a remarkable coincidence for one so associated with 555 Bolton Road, Bury.

The funerals of both Irene and Leslie were conducted at Bourne Abbey church, then at the crematorium in Marholm, Peterborough. Their ashes were scattered in the Memorial Gardens in Bourne and the family paid for a memorial bench, dedicated to them – ‘In loving memory of Leslie and Irene Dunkerley - a gradely couple’ – to be placed in the gardens. A kneeler in the Lady Chapel of the Abbey church, and a series of service books were also dedicated to Irene’s memory. She would have felt no less embarrassment at having her name thus displayed in public than in the days that the trams passed the sign on her shop on Hollins Road. She was always unassuming.

These have been some facts and recollections about Irene’s life, presented honestly but no doubt partially. Family was the thing most precious to her and it would be difficult to overstate its importance. It was the foundation of her life and eventually, as age made other interests fade gently into insignificance, family was left as the main edifice that she had built. Irene often put family first and was always thrilled by even small achievements of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. In return she was loved and appreciated by them all. I believe that the hopes for her life which she confided in her sister Mary while still a girl at 827 Hollins Road were surpassed by the reality she experienced.

Irene enjoyed the simple pleasures in life and was ever grateful for what she had. Weeks before she died, when Alzheimer’s was busy stealing her slowly away, we sat chatting. I found it hard because it seemed to me that her life had been so reduced in content. I asked, because I could not imagine an answer, what made her happy. She thought for just a moment and said: ‘A nice day and a good friend’!