I'm Staying

  CHAPTER 25   ENGLAND   FINAL DAYS Growing Chrysanthemums for the house   Naturally the atmosphere became somewhat awkward between us and Sir Duncan after our dismissal.   He obviously didn’t want us on the estate anymore but due to the labour laws he was forced into giving us notice and paying us for work done.   His way of dealing with this situation was to issue lists of duties via email and then send his wife out to ensure that we completed them as quickly as possible.   Working in the cold mist Lady Felicity took her new role very seriously and hounded us throughout the day holding her lists in her hand as she marched around the estate in her wellington boots and tweeds. She must have given up all her normal country lady activities in order to perform this job for her husband.   There was no avoiding her now.   If she couldn’t find us she would call relentlessly on the two-way radio and then the questions would start: “I h...

  CHAPTER 5   AFRICA   GROWING UP some sad reminders of growing up in South Africa After a blissful bare-foot and care-free childhood the age of boarding school came around all too soon and soon after my 12 th birthday, I joined many other reluctant pre-teens as we went to the 'big' city of Bloemfontein in South Africa to shop for our new uniforms. The all-girls school of choice was Eunice Girls’ School, recommended and approved by several other families in our little town.     The store where we bought our uniforms was called John Orr’s and was one of the biggest I’d ever seen.   There were many departments such as women’s wear, gloves and hats, menswear, shoes, haberdashery and luggage in the basement. The floors were all polished wood and each department had a counter behind which stood an expectant assistant.   Here she served customers, assisting with enquiries and upon receiving payment she placed the money in a little bag above her,...

  Chapter 2   AFRICA, MY HOME The mountains of Lesotho                                                          Becky Maseru 1968                                            The Basutho Hat where my Mum worked “I am NEVER leaving Africa!”   This was said with the confident voice of a 12 year old living in a small and peaceful African country in the 1960’s.   I now know how blessed I was to spend my childhood in Africa, enjoying sunny carefree days with no understanding of the complication of politics throughout that continent nor a hint of what was to happen in the future. I enjoyed a time of colour-blindness and the natural ability of a child to experience friendship for its own sake, oblivious to race or sta...