I was not the brightest in the class at school, in fact I was a bit of a dunce, but after going off on my own I learned a lot more about life.  I have had five businesses and done well, with my husband of 42 years who I met on the milk round, and three children. 

I told my husband, Pete, about how happy I was in Bourne House and how I was calmed down by two angels, Auntie Pat and Mrs Turpin. No wonder I so well remember the layout of the home and the things we did.  My husband and I live in Spain but I come over to England during the summer to house-sit and look after dogs. That is how I met Sandra Gee who inspired me to write this and who found the web site with Bourne House on it. 

I have told so many people about my life of being in homes and the funny and really naughty things that we three girls did, the girls being me, Jackie, and Sandra. These are my favourite memories of Bourne House which was run by the local council and yes, I was very proud of being one of those children. 

I was a nervous little girl, having been taken from my family home in Dartford, Kent, by a social worker. I can remember holding her hand and coming down the steps in Henderson Drive, Dartford, to a waiting car for a long drive to Sussex. What I can remember of the place is how dark the rooms were, and a long table which we ate off and did our prep work, which is called homework today. I was very unhappy there and as time went on I was told that I was going to another home in Bourne. I asked why. I was told that my stepmother and father and stepbrothers and sister were moving to Grantham to a place called Tennyson Owl.

I had three stepbrothers of whom two were really nice, and my stepsister Doreen was very kind to me and looked after me and we are still close to this day. My father I hated. I was really hurt when I had to leave my stepsister because I had a feeling that I wouldn’t see her again. As time went on, my stepsister and two stepbrothers came to see me at Bourne. Not all the time but they came to see if I was alright now and then. I never did go back home when I was young. I left Bourne House at 14½ years old and went into service with a farming family at Smith’s Farm in Colsterworth near Stamford. 

But at that time, Bourne House became my home. The social worker and myself got out of the car and there I am, looking at this big house with a big white front door. I would have been about nine years old and so everything did look big to me then. A lady called Mrs Turpin opened the door and I took a shine to her. She was to be my angel for many years to come. Mrs Turpin was mistress of everything in my eyes. She cooked, cleaned, bathed us, and kept us children in order. There was a room on the right hand side of the door which I can recall was the doctor’s office at that time but in time to come the room was changed and I will come to that later. 

I remember this bubbly lady coming in and saying “Hello”. She was the matron. I said goodbye to the social worker and was taken down a long corridor to be shown around.  There was a dining room on the left with round tables and chairs which seated four. Then in front of the big window there was a long table for matron and the grown-ups to eat. 

As you came into the back door after school there were the back stairs on the left, kitchen on the right, stories of which more later. In a corner there was a big flat long laundry basket which  fitted underneath the stairs opposite the kitchen. You could sit on it and look down the long corridor (and I must mention the pegs – more of this later). Down the long corridor on your left there was a sitting room, small but cosy, and we all used to squash into it on a Saturday night with matron. Further down the corridor and round the corner there was a massive play room. It was not equipped as it would be today but it was fun just the same. So now we are going up the back stairs, along the landing, to the bathrooms and dormitories.  I remember I slept in the one on the right facing the road and Sandra Perringham and Jackie Sewell were on the top floor facing the road. We three became the best of friends. 

As time went on matron left and went on to do other things. I suppose we were all upset. Mrs Turpin was very good to us all and bought us sweets. I didn’t like change, nor did Jackie and Sandra, so things didn’t go down too well. We were as bad as one another and when the new matron came we didn’t like her at first. She was Scottish and had a husband and a small boy. 

Things settled down once again and off we went to school.  We were eleven years old. Sandra and I were at a secondary modern, and Jackie had passed her 11-plus so she went to the grammar school.  In summer that year, we girls were complaining about having to wear a thick brown gym slip in the summer (well not all the girls complained, just Sandra and I, although others then joined in).  The other girls used to wear nice thin dresses in summer as a uniform, but no, we had to wear our gym slips.  I hated them and so Sandra and I would skip school and go to Bourne Wood and have fun.  There were two houses there which were lived in, so we made friends with the people there and started skipping Sunday School too.  We should have gone morning and evenings.  Of course we were found out, and so that was the end of that for the time being - oh, they were the days! 

Every Saturday, we children used to have a half-crown (12½p in today’s currency) for our pocket money.  We would go to the pictures in town and it was there that I first saw a piano rise up out of the floor on the stage.  Jackie always looked after me and Sandra kept us out of trouble, specifically me. 

We were never punished, even if we did something silly or naughty; Scots matron would just smile at us. I remember queuing up for our pocket money. Sandra poked me in the shin and my leg buckled, my hands went on to the table and the money went flying. If you’re still out there Sandra, what reminiscences we would have. 

Scots matron never punished us but when Auntie Pat came along, things changed big time. It was the week we skipped school and Sunday services. Scots matron changed some rules for us eleven year olds, and we were to help with bathing the young children, and making sure that they were OK. I must admit I liked doing this as it gave me a bit of importance and also because Mrs Turpin who worked with us was lovely.  She lived down the road from the home and kept a close eye on us, Jackie, Sandra and me in particular. We went to her house a few times for tea (with permission of course) and I think it was because we wanted attention and she knew we weren’t really getting it, which made us naughty at times. 

Then a lady and gentleman with a young daughter came to live at Bourne House and things changed for the better. She was our new matron who we called Auntie Pat and he was Uncle Lou. What lovely people they were. Auntie Pat was tall, slim and very attractive with short hair. Uncle Lou was good looking with short black or brown hair and their daughter, Pauline, had blonde hair in a ponytail and blue eyes. She shared her mummy and daddy’s love with us all. 

Hello Auntie Pat and Uncle lLou – if you ever get to read
this it is from the three (loveable) tearaways! 

I rebelled a little against Auntie Pat.  Stubborn and difficult, by this time, I was sleeping upstairs with my friends Sandra and Jackie.  Jackie and I had a big fall out over a stamp and soon I was jumping on the bed and teasing her when Auntie Pat came in and punished me. She asked me to go downstairs and wait near the laundry basket. It was a Saturday and pocket money was being given out. Auntie Pat knew exactly how to deal with me. So there I was sitting in the laundry basket waiting for my weekly half a crown for the pictures but not getting it. By this time my two friends were leaving for the cinema. I got the pegs off the laundry basket and threw them down the corridor as hard as I could and then started crying. Auntie Pat came out and looked to see what I had done and I remember trying to hit and kick both her and Mrs Turpin and another helper. I cried for ages, sitting in the laundry basket, and Auntie Pat sat with me until I had decided to pick up all the pegs.  Of course I had no intention of doing that, and so we sat and sat and sat, for how long I don’t know, but the other children had come back from the pictures and I was still sitting there. My friends Sandra and Jackie wanted to pick up the pegs but that wasn’t allowed. 

Auntie Pat was telling me how people had to pay for what they did and that we could not have our own way all of the time. Things would change with her in charge and although she would be strict, she would also be kind to us.  She explained that what I had done was naughty and that I should apologise to Jackie, that saying sorry would make me feel better. After cooling off and calming down, Auntie Pat said I could go to her apartment with the others if I picked up the pegs and if not I would have to sit there until they were. I was tired by this time and so I picked up the pegs, said sorry to Jackie and thanked Auntie Pat for being so patient with me – although I still did not get my pocket money. But that incident is something I will never forget. I think I behaved like that because I thought no one cared but how wrong I was. 

One day we discovered that chicken wire had been put up over the bedroom windows while we were at school and when we asked why it was there, we were told it was for our own safety.   We had made friends with a lad called Brian and his family and then he and his friends used to come by on a Friday night when we would open the window and call out to them. The ladies across the road complained about it, so the chicken wire was installed to stop us opening the window, sticking out heads out and shouting. After that we used to pretend we were going to church on Sunday evenings and head for Bourne Wood instead.  I never did find out Brian’s surname but if he ever reads this, he is sure to remember us. 

We ran away quite a lot, creeping down the back stairs then open the window and jump onto the dustbins outside and then on to the floor outside and off we would go and when we did not turn up for breakfast the police were called out to find us.  We were usually hiding not far away, often in a haystack, and were taken to the police station to be picked up by Uncle Lou. The policemen were always nice to us and told us how silly we had been, that we should be tucked up in bed instead of roaming the countryside. Eventually we took their advice because we always lost our pocket money after such adventures and we did not want to give up our weekly visit to the pictures. 

At holiday time, many of the children went home including Jackie and Sandra but I always seemed to stay behind. I did once go home with Jackie whose parents had a nice home in Lincoln and I also went to Sandra’s home in Spalding. At other times, I stayed with Auntie Pat and Uncle Lou in their apartment, and we often went swimming at the outdoor pool in Bourne or went walking with some of the other children. It was like being part of a small family and we had more attention from Auntie Pat and Uncle Lou and their daughter and as I was growing older, I began to realise what Auntie Pat was trying to teach us. 

On one occasion, everyone had come back from their holidays except for Jackie. We were asked to go and see Auntie Pat and Uncle Lou in the doctor’s office. Auntie Pat looked really sad as she told us that Jackie had died. I held Sandra tight and we both clung to Auntie Pat. But it was never the same at Bourne House after that. Sandra and I remained close but we never again got into mischief. 

More children arrived at the home and by this time we were helping look after them, especially the little ones and so Sandra and I felt wanted by being useful. We could not wish for better people to look after us and to lead us on to the right path while at the same time giving us their love.  Auntie Pat was an exceptionally lovely lady and she and Lou shared their love with us all. I later vowed that my own children would be loved unconditionally which they always have been, and still are to this day, and that is something I learned at Bourne House. 

NOTE: Contributed in 2012 by Ann Simmons who now lives in Spain.