Portmanmore Road Splott 1964 To 1965 Part Three

A Memory of Splott.

I really remember the fish & chip shop, the stuffed alligator; kids were scared of it apart from me. I also recall how nasty that short Greek woman from the fish & chip shop was.

One early memory I recall isn’t only an unquestionable horror, but also a total mystery. I trailed my mother as she carried my younger sister through the empty supermarket. We paused on the bus stop directly outside our front door and waited to cross the busy Portmanmor Road to get to the bus stop opposite the fish & chip shop.
While mam kept my sister safe in her arms, I uncomplainingly leant against the large fish & chip shop window; excited about my forthcoming ride on a big red bus. I quietly observed heavy traffic zoom passed, feeling each rushing backlash of wind. After waiting quite a while, a big red ‘Double Decker’ bus halted like a tank, it released a loud gushing sound on its immediate stop.
In an instant, mam gave an order to wait exactly where I was until she and my sister safely boarded. Gradually I walked forward, not too near incase I angered her. I observed as she carried my sister onto the bus, and then leisurely walked along the bus isle.
At a snail's pace, I headed toward the pavement edge. I focused on the wide deep gap between the bus, and where I was stood. As I attempted to step across the gap; the bus quickly jolted forward; another gushing sound startled me; I automatically stumbled rearward. Immediately I panicked as mam continued to walk further along the bus isle, unbothered in checking on my whereabouts or safety. At a slow pace, the bus drove away.
Now left deserted, I screamed and cried hysterically still stood on the same pavement edge, observing mam disappear into the distance. She glanced over her shoulder with what seemed a satisfied smile, her expression conveyed a compelling cruel message; she was thrilled to get rid of me. I felt as though she had pre-planned my entire abandonment. Anxiously, I continued to watch the bus fade into the distance of Portmanmore Road.
I began to chase it with all my might, but it was too late it had gone, so had mam, and my sister.
Abandoned - also heartily sobbing, I hastily returned to the fish & chip shop with hope that someone would help me find them.
I stood outside the fish & chip shop window, two male strangers sat inside eating; my tears hazed my view, my throat red roar from frantically crying.
A short, well-rounded Greek woman came dashing through the entrance. For a brief moment I felt I had gained a friend to help me. My trusting feelings were soon shattered.
“Go! Go away from my shop child, you’re disturbing my costumers.” She snarled.
A weighty heartache cut deep through the fear that hung on my every breath. Deserted in a gigantic crazy world, in a mist of sobbing words, I tried hard to explain. However, she was an ice-maiden, as cold-hearted as the devil himself, and she grew more furious. Suddenly her hand thrust against my shoulder, which nearly caused me to plummet under a passing lorry. My heart pounded. Bewildered and shocked, I lifted myself from off the pavement edge.
The two strangers’ continued to watch-on from inside the fish & chip shop, both unbothered by my nightmare ordeal. Nobody came to my aid. I gazed across the road at the supermarket door, wondering whether I should cross the busy road and wait on our doorstep. It was from this moment my mind went blank; no trace; no visions, only an empty void.

(I can still plainly see that Greek woman, those two male strangers watching on through the window, a vision that remains clear to this day. Even now, my memory can’t recall any family reunion ever taking place; how did I get back to them? This has remained a mystery. I never engaged enough courage to ask my Dad; however, I firmly believed it was mam who needed to explain why?)
During my childhood I asked mam about this; she became angry saying it was just a stupid dream and never to mention such rubbish again.
During my early twenties, I cautiously approached mam again about this horrendous ordeal. Once again, she reacted angrily, ordering me to grow up and then insisted this episode had been just a bad dream. Yet for me, it will stay reality. My senses suggest she lied.
Later in my life I had moved, I’d just met my neighbour, we were talking in general, when he mentioned he used to live in Portmanmore Road; I didn’t say anything before he went on to recall in 1965 a small child was knocked down directly outside the fish & chip shop that was owned by Greeks.

I’ve seen professional people; they say it’s too detailed & authenticated to be a childhood dream; something happened to me which caused my mind to blank the trauma. Is there anybody that can help?

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