The Old Parsonage

A Memory of East Dean.

Throughout my childhood, my parents would take my brother and I on holiday to stay at The Old Parsonage in East Dean, and we visited so often that it became a second home to us. It was owned at that time, by an elderly and hospitable couple Mr and Mrs Ticehurst, who ran a lovely guest house with a pianola on which I would play "Soldiers of the Queen" over and over. A large and beautiful plot (which is now much reduced in size) and two mature cats, who sunned themselves in the luxuriant kitchen garden. I always had a little room in the eaves, with a jug and basin for washing, and particularly enjoyed the very weak tea (which my father hated) and the simple ham salads. It was a time of great austerity, but we always had the most wonderful holidays in the village. I used to play with Alan Ticehurst, with whom I made a trolley out of some old pram wheels and orange boxes. He pushed me, unexpectedly, down the gentle slope close to the Sheep Centre. The trolley, on which the steering was very crude, gathered pace down the gentle slope, as I struggled not to come off the topheavy vehicle. I failed, and got thrown into the wire fence by the side of the road, spraining my ankle. One day, I climbed from my attic room up on to the roof and sat astride the top, with my back against the chimney and watched the traffic snaking up and down the steep hill to Friston. Those were the days! Michael Gould

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