A Pair of kippers.

When Ma was expecting my brother James, she must have had some problems and she had to be taken into hospital for bed rest......it was obvious to our doctor that there was absolutely no chance that she would rest at home with four of us hanging round her ankles....and also the fact that she was still working and had three jobs.

This meant that Pa had to sort us out and look after us.
Money was always tight, but Ma was a brilliant manager especially where food was concerned. I think she taught Jesus the five loaves and three fishes trick.
We lived on staples such as bread, potatoes and cereal....and the godsend was...we did get school meals....which at that time, were sixpence a day. So Ma knew that during the week we would have a substantial meal at midday.
Nothing was ever wasted. If we had a chicken(which wasn't often...it was a luxury item) the giblets and the carcass was used to make stock and this would be made into broth....some herb dumplings would make it stick to our ribs.
Ma would buy a sheet of bacon ribs and make either lentil soup(cardboard soup was what I called it...and wouldn't eat that either.)....or pea soup.
She would make great panfuls of Scouse.....blind scouse had no meat in it.....and the real scouse didn't have much in. In fact we joked that whoever got the meat would be the one to do the washing up.
Ma used to make sea pie too......this was just a version of scouse with a suet crust on......it was boiled on the top of the stove and the pastry was soft......much like that on Hollands steak puddings.
She would also make a concoction call Pea Pie......this was like a cottage pie......mince meat at the bottom......a thick layer of mushy peas, a layer of mashed carrots and then mashed potatoes......baked in the oven so that the top went all crispy......it was a meal in one dish.......and it meant we got a good helping of veggies.

So those were Ma's skills at making ends meet.......Pa, however, had none of these skills.
So feeding us was quite a task to him.
Anyway, he went into town at the end of a market day and was wandering past the fish market....they were starting to close up but had 3 pairs of kipper left...normally they would have been half a crown a pair, but Pa got the whole lot for three shillings........he felt that he had done well and that he would be able to make sure that we had what he thought of as a 'feast' of a tea.

I used to shop on my way home from school, for an elderly lady who lived near us. We called her 'grandma Calvert' though she was no relation to us at all.
This meant that I got home later than the rest of the children......the table was set....bread buttered......salt and pepper, knives and forks....there was a pan steaming on the range......and a very pungent smell.
Pa was there looking really pleased with himself and he told us all to sit down.......we sat down and he lifted the large pan off the range......under the lid of the pan were the kippers.....on a plate with a lake of butter around them.
Pa lifted the kippers onto our plates.....he had two and we had one each.......there were no veggies...just bread and butter.
Our lads would eat anything and lifted up their eating irons and tucked in......slapping the smelly fish onto slices of bread.....biting into the shives of bread and finding that despite having tried to get the bones out, there were still plenty in there.....it didn't put them off....they just spat the bones out as they came to them.

I just sat there looking at the disgusting smelly offering on my plate. Pa told me to eat it up...it was 'good for me'.
I folded my arms and stuck out my chin and told him that there was no way I was eating
'that disgusting muck - I would rather starve first'.....his response....'so be it'.
The plate was removed from in front of me and another plate put over the top...and it was consigned to the pantry.
I was told that it would be put in front of me at every meal until I ate it.
Pa was determined that I was going to eat that kipper. I was just as determined that I would not eat it under any circumstances.

Good as his word, the kipper was put in front of me for every meal......the boys would be having spud pie and I would be faced with this drying shrivelling brown thing.....cold of course......they would be having hotpot...kindly made by a neighbour......I got this rancid kipper. Almost a week went by and the kipper was still making its regular appearance......while I would sit with my face set like stone and my arms folded until we were excused from the table....yes we always had to ask to be excused from the table......can you imagine that today?
Eventually the kipper disappeared......Pa went into the pantry to get the thing off the shelf and the top plate had been dislodged and the kipper was gone.
I don't quite know where it went, but I do believe my brother got sick of seeing me leave the table with an empty belly, and gave the thing to the cat.

Actually, I didn't really have an empty belly.
There was an old couple who lived next door to us, they had never ever had any children and I told her the saga of the kipper....not to get fed, but just to get some sympathy......so Auntie Heapie would ask my Pa each evening if I could keep her comapny while Horace (her husband went for his nightly pint of beer) I actually ate like a princess.....Boiled new laid eggs, with brown soldiers spread with marmite. Lovely.

I reckon that hardheaded patterns of behaviour are established early in our lives.
That is my Kipper tale.

We were all glad when ma came home.....even though we had to do more to help out.