Darvel Down

A Memory of Netherfield.

We were among the first half dozen families to move onto Darvel Down back in 1949, I think. We originally occupied No.43 which was one of the handful of finished houses and in those days the estate was a builders dump. The only shop was run by a Mrs Rushton (opposite the White Hart) and she stocked stale crisps and very old packets of soap powder. It was to be another five or six years before the estate shop was built and my very first job was delivering grocerys around the estate on a trade bike. The Netherfield Arms in those days was a real spit and sawdust pub run by a very old lady, Mrs Roman and she was quite happy to serve us kids with pints of shandy via the back door. After getting settled into No.43 school was the next objective, and what a delightful school it was - only two classrooms. Miss Bingham in one and Miss French in the other, we had a quarter acre of woodland as a playground. I quickly struck up a friendship with Clive French who was sadly killed by a hit and run driver, some years later. As the years passed the estate was enlarged with some posh new brick houses and we grabbed one - we moved up the road to No 62. There was talk of our lovely old school closing and all us kids had to go to Battle school, misery absolute bloody misery. There was also talk of building a policeman's house on the estate, a policeman that was going to cramp our style a little, but when he eventually moved in, he left us kids pretty much alone. Perhaps we were not as important as we imagined ourselves. Dad started a scout group on the estate. I joined the Royal Navy and that was the last I saw of Darvel Down. I'm 73 now and I hope my memory is still intact. In the most unlikely event that anyone should want to contact me I'm at brianwheard@aol.com

---

---