Match made in heaven?

They were born ten days apart in 1931, and lived near each other. Their homes were on one of the vast, recently built Dagenham council estates, constructed to ease overcrowding in the London slums. She was the only child of a Ford worker, Horace, and his wife. This, and, the fact that, she had two doting, childless aunts, meant that, materially, she had a better childhood than most children in the area. Her father was careful with money, cutting her hair himself, and putting taps on old shoes and painting them red, rather than buying her dancing shoes. He retained Victorian values, when she started writing to a soldier, he demanded to see his letter. Rather than allow this, the strong willed girl threw the letter on to the sitting room fire. The women in her life counter-balanced her father’s rigid attitudes. Her mother and aunts were a giggling trio of sisters, who bought her dolls, and made her pretty clothes.

When they met, she was sixteen years old, and had been working in a glove factory for the last two years. At school, she had been bright and interested, but had difficulty with written work. She enjoyed her job. She liked being in the company of such a large group of women, and learnt much from their ribald sense of humour. She and her best friend, Rose, often met on Saturday mornings for shopping trips to Oxford Street. She (Rose) introduced her to the notion of wearing a brazier, in preference to the vests, which she wore when she first started work.

She was an attractive girl. Short, 5'3'', and slim, and supported by her newly acquired bras, she had a cracking figure. Her hair, which she set into Rita Hayworth waves, was fine, and dark, and she had large, dark eyes. She liked to wear lipstick and face powder, but could only apply this, when out of sight of her father. He did not agree with women being ‘painted ladies’.

It was early one summer’s evening, when she and a group of neighbourhood girls walked through the dusty streets, towards the park. Throughout the day, the sun had baked the rows of identical, red bricked houses and tarmacked pavements. Now, low in the sky, its bright light reflected and glinted in the windows. Neighbours stood gossiping in their porches, dogs barked, and children played noisy games of tag on the roads, all adding to the cacophony of sound, as the girls passed. They, however, were focused on more particular sounds. By word of mouth, they had arranged to meet a group of young men at the park. They could hear the boys’ shouts and the thud as they kicked a ball. En masse, the girls headed towards the noisy game. There were twelve or so young men playing. They had fashioned goals from discarded jumpers and jackets. Their energy and enthusiasm for the game outweighed their collective skills. There was a great deal of laughter, and light-hearted criticism of each other’s attempts at scoring and passing the ball. The boys were aware of the girls approach, but feigned indifference. Instead, their game became more competitive, and their ribbing of each other louder. The girls came close and lurked on the periphery of the ‘pitch’, until a misjudged kick sent the ball hurtling towards them. One of the group returned it with an unladylike, hefty boot. Playfully, it was sent in their direction again, and another girl, attempted a running dribble towards goal. A boy ran to intercept her before she could shoot, but one of her comrades flanked them shouting. ‘Kick it to me, to me, to me.’ And so, the girls were integrated and accepted into the game.

She noticed him straight away. He was handsome, with thick wavy hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was slightly built, but wiry, and not tall, barely reaching 5'10''.  She could remember him from their school days; he had been one of the ‘poor kids’. This description was sadly accurate. He was the youngest of five children. His father worked as a general labourer in a local animal feed factory. In later years, when asked about his childhood, he would always say that, he was unable to remember. His wife suspected that, his memories were unpleasant, of poverty and hardship, and so had been repressed. The little she did know came from his older sister, who told her that, skirts had been made for her from dyed, animal food sacks. She recounted that, as the garments were repeatedly washed, the dye faded, and the logo ‘Spratts’ could be seen humiliatingly, grinning from her skirts. She also spoke of her father making suet roly-poly pudding, wrapping it in a cloth, and boiling it in the washing copper. When the pudding was cooked, the children had fought, no-one wanting the end pieces as they contained no jam.   

During the Second World War, to avoid the dangers of enemy bombing, many children were evacuated to country areas. He and his youngest sister were sent away. Originally, they went to Devon, but their mother pined for them, and sent for them to come home. Later, they were sent away again, this time to Wales. The Welsh children had been unfriendly and hostile towards the evacuees. Jack was a tough, determined East End child, and had fought back by demonstrating his superiority. He excelled at school, coming top in most subjects. This was due in equal parts to his intellect, and the current, advanced standard of English education. Subsequently, although he had shown that he was capable of higher education, it was out of the question. His father died when he was eleven years old, and his mother needed all of her children to generate an income. He left school at fourteen, and went to work.

The teenagers played on. It was a carefree game, with teams and rules being only loosely adhered too. The girl kicked the ball, but slid on the grass and fell to the ground. Normally, she would have leapt up, undaunted, but the boy was nearby, and she hoped that this would prompt some reaction from him. It worked, he jogged over, and offered her a hand up, saying.

‘You alright? Did you hurt yourself?’ She made a great show of brushing herself down, whilst bravely assuring him that she was ok. The game continued, until dusk began to fall, and the young people could barely see the ball. Collectively, they began to head for home, leaving a few stragglers, who stayed to enjoy a cigarette. As they left the park, he fell into step beside her. He asked her name, and when she replied. ‘Vi’, he held out his hand, shook hers, and said ‘Jack.’ She already knew, as she had heard the other boys shouting it during the game. This, and the previous touch of his hand, sent electric shocks of excitement through her body. They walked home, chatting easily. He liked her ready laugh, and the way she teased him. She asked where he lived, and he answered. ’Barley Lane.’ She did not realise that this was a joke. Barley Lane was where the local mental institution was located. When they reached her door, he asked if he could call for her the following evening, and she agreed. .

They began ‘walking out’, and spent every evening together. Since the age of fourteen, Vi had cooked Sunday dinner for herself and her parents. After a few months, she asked if Jack could join them. Her parents had seen the young man who knocked for their daughter, but their contact had been restricted to the occasional ‘hello’. The lunch went well, and apparently Jack passed muster, as from then on, he was allowed to spend the evenings with Vi in the family’s living room. They did not do this every evening, as there was no privacy, but took advantage when the weather was exceptionally cold. 

The following spring, Vi’s father had booked a fortnight’s holiday at Canvey Island for his small family. Vi did not want to be parted from her sweetheart, but Horace would not hear of leaving her at home alone. During the first week, she and Jack exchanged letters. On the Sunday, mid fortnight, Jack appeared on the boarding house doorstep. It was a complete surprise; he had cycled over twenty-six miles to see Vi. He chained his bike to the railings, and they walked to the beach. She complained that, the boarding house meals were insufficient, and that, she felt continuously hungry. Jack pulled out the packet of jam sandwiches, which he had made for his lunch, and passed them to her. Above all other things, this simple act of selflessness convinced Vi that he was the one for her.

When the holiday was over, the couple became engaged. Another year passed, and Jack heard that he was about to be conscripted into the army, and would be sent to a camp in Wiltshire. The couple hastily took the decision to bring their wedding forward, and marry before he went away. They booked a honeymoon in Jaywick. Vi was dismayed to discover that, their holiday chalet was not connected to mains sewage. Instead, they were required to use a bucket in a shed. Each morning, a tanker circulated around the area, and the residents went out and emptied their buckets into it. To add to her humiliation, she started her period on their wedding day. So not only were they unable to consummate their marriage, she had the embarrassment of discussing with her new husband, what should be done with her used sanitary protection.

   They began their married life together, living at his mother’s house. On the morning, that Jack was due to leave for Salisbury; the couple clung to each other and kissed passionately. He picked up his bag, and headed down the stairs, with Vi following. At the front door, they hugged again, and Jack shouldered his bag, and determinedly strode off. Vi stood on the porch, crying and waving, until he disappeared around a corner. Neither her mother nor mother-in-law appeared to offer any sympathy. In the end, it was the neighbour of the adjoining house, who beckoned her in, and gave a cup of tea.

The couple again exchanged letters. Vi continued to work at the glove factory. Although, she missed her husband desperately, she discovered that, there were some advantages to their current circumstances. She no longer lived with her parents under her father’s watchful eye. She had the freedom of a single woman, whilst enjoying the security of marriage. When Jack came home on leave, they would snuggle up together on the sofa bed in their room, and listen to the radio, or sometimes Jack would read to Vi. The couple agreed that, although this was comfortable enough for now, they did not want to spend their entire married life ‘in rooms’. They wanted somewhere to call their own, and they needed space to start a family. They began to save every available penny. Vi’s work was piece work, which meant that she was paid for each glove, which she produced, rather than a fixed wage. She began to work like fury, sparks almost flying off her sewing machine, and Jack diligently sent money home each week.

By the time, he was demobbed, two years later, they had saved enough for a deposit on a house. Jack saw an advertisement for a new estate, which was being built in Upminster. The location was ideal, as it was at the end of the District Line, so they would both be able to get to work. They viewed the plans, paid their deposit, and picked their plot. The fact that the house was under construction, gave the couple time to save for a few items of furniture. In 1953, the couple excitedly moved into their new home.

They dearly wanted a child, so immediately ceased to use contraception. Vi decided that, she would continue to work until she conceived. Two years passed, and she did not become pregnant. Every month, she almost held her breath, hoping that, this would be the month when she would begin the journey towards motherhood. Like clockwork, her period arrived every month, and a wave of despondency would wash over her. All around, the other women on the estate produced babies, and yet, she did not. Finally, she sought medical advice. She and Jack were sent for tests, which concluded that he had a low sperm count.

Finally, a year later, Vi became pregnant, and subsequently gave birth to a daughter. This child would be their only off-spring, as Vi never conceived again. The couple adored her, but she was not an easy child. She had inherited a combination of their strong wills, Jack’s intelligence, and Vi’s independent nature. Although, all of these are admirable attributes, they do not make for a placid child. Additionally, Vi herself was an only child, and was therefore not used to sharing love and attention. She was jealous of the affection that, Jack showered on their daughter. She knew that this was unreasonable, but could not help how she felt. Jack was puzzled and hurt by her reactions. Somehow, they managed to navigate their way through these troubled times, and their love grew stronger.

Time passed, and their daughter grew up, became independent and left them to live her own life. By this time, the couple were financially secure. They enjoyed being on their own again, and having the money to do as they liked. Perhaps, more importantly, now that she had left, they were delighted when their daughter returned home to visit. Together they had surmounted life’s obstacles, and now things were easier.                                

When Jack was fifty-seven years, the couple had a scare. He woke one morning, and had lost the feeling in the side of his face. Tests revealed that he had suffered a stroke bought on by excessively high blood pressure. His kidneys had also been damaged, and he was left with only twenty-five percent of their optimum function. Additionally, he was found to have heart disease. Despite this complicated collection of health problems, he made a good recovery. Those who knew him well noticed that his mind was less sharp. This was not a problem, as it brought his functioning down to that of the majority. In some ways, his decline worked in Vi’s favour. In the past, Jack had always been right, and this could be difficult to live with. Their relationship was now more balanced. He decided to take early retirement, and the couple enjoyed their ensuing years. They had an active social life, and good holidays. Vi fussed around her husband, and he enjoyed her pampering for twenty more years.         

Throughout their relationship, they remained devoted to each other, and its end is both sad and romantic. Jack’s health problems escalated to the degree that he required renal dialysis. Initially, he appeared to be coping well, but approximately a year later, it became apparent that his body was failing. On several occasions, he complained of chest pains, and twice collapsed. At the same time, Vi had lost a great deal of weight. Medical investigations revealed that, she was suffering from ovarian cancer. The doctors were clear that, chemotherapy could slow the progress of the disease, but not cure it. The couple did not discuss the seriousness of their illnesses, and they held different attitudes towards their conditions. Jack was pragmatic, and wanted the doctors to explain the details to him. Vi, on the other hand, chose to bury her head in the sand, refusing to confront the fact that she had a terminal illness. The consultant privately disclosed to their daughter that, Vi had a couple of months to live.  But, she knew the truth, she told their daughter.

‘If I have to crawl on my hands and knees to look after Dad, I will.’ Jack did not want Vi to worry about him any more than she already did, and so did not tell her that his condition was terminal. To outsiders it seemed strange that the close couple were not communicating at this crucial time.

Vi’s condition worsened to the extent that, she was sleeping all day. Jack collapsed again, and on this occasion, his GP arranged for him to go to the London Hospital, where they specialised in treating kidney failure. With the consultant, he agreed to stop the dialysis. Places were found at a local hospice for him and Vi. She was transported there first, and settled into their allocated room, waiting for him. Jack was transferred directly there from the hospital. When he arrived, they embraced as the lovers they had always been. Once Jack established himself, he announced that he had changed his mind, and wanted to restart dialysis. The renal team suspected that, he had only taken the decision to stop the dialysis, so that he and his wife could be together in the hospice. However, he only had two further sessions, and then stopped again. It seems more likely that, deciding to stop a treatment, which had been prolonging his life, would have been equivalent to looking over a cliff edge before taking the final leap. After a week, the couple insisted that they wanted to return to their home. The hospice staff were against this, and tried to persuade them otherwise, but they would not be dissuaded. Five days later, Vi died at home in their bed. Jack passed eighteen days after this. Later, their daughter reflected that, if he had not had those two final sessions of dialysis, his death might have been hastened, and their life spans would have been exactly equal. Though this was a sad end for a long and happy life together, perhaps for them it was the best possible outcome. Neither had to live on without the other.