Cryers Hill Read online

  He can still picture people who are not there. He can still listen to them speak. They continue to live in his head, the people who are not real. They do not, however, stroll into his room and say, Bludyell Sean crine out loud. Not any more. They do not surprise him at the bus stop, or materialise in full battledress under the sycamore in his garden. He does not discover people out of photographs and letters smoking a pipe in his armchair.

  He accepts the gone people are gone. There are no ghosts in Cryers Hill, he knows this. Only those who can't forget.

  Sean is walking alone in Gomms Wood for the first time in twenty years. His father's funeral is tomorrow and Sean has returned to his childhood home. It is the same: the sun-lasered beech canopies, the birch and oak and tangles of bracken. He walks to the pond, where the bending tree continues to watch itself changing colour. He walks to the tip and discovers it is gone. He walks beside Cockshoot Wood where, once upon a time, there was a castle that was ruled by a ten-year-old queen, and up the estate hill to the Wilderness, but it is wilderness no more; it has been replaced by two identical box-faced houses. He walks and waits. But she is not here. See ya, Spaz.

  There is no trace of her. There is nothing left. Perhaps his heart is mended. Perhaps he has forgiven himself. At the Royal Standard he raises a coloured drink to the memory of his father. The male, as tribe leader, remains superior to the female, even in death. And he puts the past to rest. Sean no longer conjures Ann Hooper or Walter Brown. Nobody now lives in his mind's eye. He has let them go. Today his boyhood dreams are real. He is a cosmic traveller, a voyager in the bright universe. Small steps have become a giant leap. Wur.

  Now is past – the happy now

  When we together roved

  Beneath the wildwood's oak tree bough

  And nature said we loved.

  Winter's blast

  The now since then has crept between,

  And left us both apart.

  Winters that withered all the green

  Have froze the beating heart.

  Now is past.

  'Now Is Past', John Clare

  The ITA Experiment

  Between 1961 and the mid-1970s an educational experiment took place in the United Kingdom, sanctioned by the Conservative government of the day. Created during the 1950s by Conservative MP for Bath, Sir James Pitman (grandson of Sir Isaac Pitman), the Initial Teaching Alphabet would, it was hoped, revolutionise the process of teaching five-year-old children in Britain to read and write. The idea was to eradicate the inconsistencies found in the English language, making it less complicated for young children to master. The lack of a consistent code was deemed unnecessarily confusing: through, though, bough, cough were cited as examples. Consisting of forty-three symbols, each representing individual word sounds, Pitman's phonemic alphabet presented a logical code that disposed of the letters q and x, as well as capital letters, and enlisted characters from the Roman alphabet.

  It was proposed that children would switch to traditional orthography (TO) at seven or eight years of age.

  The experiment, begun in the Midlands, was implemented nationwide at pre-selected schools. There was no formal training for teachers beyond the optional one-day course, held initially in some areas. Teachers were required to learn the system in practice. Parents were not consulted regarding the experiment. More schools joined the programme in 1962 and 1963. By 1966 140 of the 158 education authorities in the UK taught ITA in one or more of their schools. The experiment was controversial and the scheme was accused of being mishandled and poorly organised. The unfavourable conclusions of the Bullock Committee proved to be the beginning of the end for ITA in Britain, and subsequently it was gradually dropped by schools throughout the United Kingdom. Support for ITA in the form of associations still exists in Australia and the USA (where it is taught remedially by the ITA Foundation).

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the Trustees of the Imperial War Museum for allowing access to the papers of L/Bdr J.R. Brown, Royal Regiment of Artillery (R.A.) and also Sgt. E.W. Cope, 2nd Bn. Rifle Brigade, Royal Sussex Regiment.

  For information, research materials, documents, archives, photographs, childcare, memories and notes, I would like to thank Alison Gieler, Jeff Goodchild, Trevor Dean – for both his recollections and his account: Widmer End: a village story (Widmer End Residents Association) – Denise Knowles from the Bucks Family History Society, Stephanie Clarke (Dept of Documents, Imperial War Museum), Lizzie Richmond (Initial Teaching Alphabet archives, University of Bath), Jessica Bruce-Lockhart, Mrs Gillian Burn, Janice Bellamy, Rachel Johnson, Marylou Soto, Lorraine Hart, Robyn Becker, Mary Aldridge, Peter Aldridge, Jamie Lee, Dr Ruth Kennedy and Susan Campbell. My love and thanks to Mark, for his faith and encouragement. My thanks also to Clare Alexander and Dan Franklin.

  Cryers Hill contains extracts from letters written by L/Bdr J.R. Brown during his military service with the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force and the Central Mediterranean Forces between 1942 and 1944 and I would like gratefully to acknowledge this. An extract from a letter written by Sgt. E.W. Cope while serving with the Royal Sussex Regiment in central Italy also appears on page 318. The original letters are housed at the Department of Documents, Imperial War Museum, London SE1. In one such letter to his wife, L/Bdr J.R. Brown revealed both a desire to write of his experiences and also curiousity about who, if anyone, might one day read his words.

  In acknowledgement, the following books proved helpful for reference:

  The Way of a Countryman by Ian Niall (White Lion), The Poacher's Handbook by Ian Niall (White Lion), Hallowed Acres by Michael F. Twist (Farming Press), The Countryside Remembered by Sadie Ward (Select Editions), Hughenden Valley by John Veysey (Hughenden Valley Village Hall & Residents Committee), Sacred Songs & Solos Compiled by Ira D. Sankey (Morgan & Scott Ltd).

  The author is grateful for permission to reprint lines from the following: Three Wheels on My Wagon': Words by Bob Hillard and Music by Burt Bacharach © Copyright 1961 by Better Half Music Co. and P&P Songs Ltd., New Hidden Valley Music Co. Copyright renewed. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. 'Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head': Words by Hal David and Music by Burt Bacharach © Copyright 1969 P&P Songs Ltd., New Hidden Valley Music Co./Casa David/WB Music Corporation, USA. Universal/MCA Music Limited (37.5%). Used by permission of Music Sales Limited. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. 'The 59th Bridge Street Song (Feelin' Groovy)': Words and Music by Paul Simon © Copyright 1966 Paul Simon. Used by permission of Music Sales Limited. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. Extracts from three funny littl wunz by Charlotte Hough reproduced with permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London, on behalf of Charlotte Hough. Copyright © Charlotte Hough 1962.

  While every effort has been made to obtain permission from owners of copyright material reproduced herein, the publishers would like to apologise for any omissions and will be pleased to incorporate missing acknowledgements in any further editions.