Memories: Ann Bond

 

21, Charlotte Street, or Burghley Court as it was known in those days, was run by Abele family - Charles, previously a motor mechanic who worked for Delage, Pat his wife who'd trained as a milliner, and their son Derek, a chemistry student at Brighton Technical College. They also had a dog called Digger, an unknown breed but small, hairy and very friendly. 

 

The Abeles were registered with the Tech to take in students, which was useful for them as students were only around out of the holiday season. In fact, at peak times in the summer they were so busy with holiday makers that Derek often had to sleep in the (only) bathroom. There was only one separate loo. Each bedroom had a basin. The Abeles lived in the basement.

Ground floor front was the guests'/students' dining room, first floor front was their drawing room. There was a sort of butler's pantry at the end of the hall. They'd had central heating put in at some stage - there were radiators and pipes everywhere, and I can't recall being cold there. I remember there were pipes running up the back right-hand corner of the back rooms (my room was first floor back) which were a great means of signalling. Mrs A would bang on them to tell us meals were up, or there was a cup of tea on the go - I would go galloping down to the basement sitting room for tea, cigarettes and the Daily Mail crossword.

I arrived in 1949 - but it was a year earlier that they took in five Pharmacy students. Alan Bond, Pete Poole and Eric Bradbury shared third floor front, Brian Bond and Chris Still were elsewhere. The first three were doing their finals, the other two their intermediate exams.

There were several memorable incidents that year, chief being when the boys bought a piano at the Saturday market in Upper Gardener St (is it still going?) and it was delivered only to the pavement. It was eventually hauled up to the drawing room, and Alan spent the next few days tuning it until everyone nearly went insane. On the subject of music, Eric played the violin, usually late at night until Mrs A would come up and insist he played 'The King'.

 

Mrs Abele couldn't resist auctions, and one day bought a massive chandelier. The boys dismantled it, cleaned every piece, and then reassembled it. I wonder if it still hangs in the first floor front?

 

At the end of that year (47-8) the five students left, and Mrs Abele said "Never Again!". But I was coming down to Brighton for the following year, and Alan

sweet-talked her to take me in - only one, and a girl to boot - bound to be less trouble! So I was there from Sept 1949 for two years, and they were two really happy years.

The present owners might be interested to know that for the first year, accommodation, breakfast and evening meal, plus full board at the weekends, cost a princely two pounds a week, and Mrs A reluctantly raised it to two pounds five shillings for the second year. Also, I might mention that a trolley bus ride from the top of St James' St to St Peter's Church cost an old penny-halfpenny.

 

The Abeles also had some connection with the Theatre Royal, for which they displayed a poster (this entitled them to two free tickets on alternate weeks - Mrs A and I always went, and we saw some excellent shows, may pre-London try-outs). They put up various actors appearing at the Royal - the only ones I can recall are Virginia McKenna and her husband, Vanessa Lee and her husband, and A.E.Matthews - though I don't suppose many people will remember the last two.  

 

And then there was Digger. As I said, he was very friendly and loved to come out with you (he roamed freely, no lead - wouldn't do today!). He would trail you to the trolley stop and with perfect timing jump on at the last minute so you were lumbered! One day he followed me down to the bank - Lloyds, very posh, with a uniformed doorman in those days - and inside lifted his leg against a marble pillar, and one Sunday he followed me into church and was chased up and down the aisle by a churchwarden.

Alan also remembers Digger walking behind a lady wearing a fox fur stole and leaping up at it to grab it by the head, and on another occasion lifting his leg against the railings on the sea front - on the upper promenade. Those below were not amused!

 

I hope these memories are enjoyed by the current owners of 21 Charlotte Street, where I really did enjoy two wonderful, happy years of my life.