Grace Evelyn Taylor nee Ivall (1922-2006): Her Life Story Part 1

Grace Evelyn Taylor nee Ivall was my mother. She wrote her life story in 2005, the year before she died. It is quite long, so I propose to add it to this blog in sections. The first one covers the period from her birth until the start of the war in 1939.

My Childhood

I was born at 9 Linkfield Road, Isleworth, (close to Isleworth Station) on 20th January 1922. My parents were George William Ivall (born 1880) and Emma Ivall (nee Armitage, born 1883). My parents had one other child, another daughter, Florence Rose (Flossie) born 1908. Flossie died, aged 14, in August 1922 just 7 months after I was born. I have three keepsakes of Flossie, the sister I never knew. They are a large framed photograph, a gold bracelet and some beautiful auburn coloured ringlets cut from her hair the day she died. All of these souvenirs are amongst my most precious possessions, all are irreplaceable.

During the First World War my father saw active service in the Royal Artillery. Unfortunately, a shrapnel splinter severely damaged his hearing and made him almost totally deaf in one ear. This meant that after the war he could no longer work on the buses as he had always done and he had a long period of looking for alternative work. However, sometime before I was five my parents were offered the job as caretakers of the offices of the The Licensed Vehicle Workers Sick Benefit Club. This was at 30 Brixton Road - there was a flat on the top floor (two floors up) where we could live. I have vivid memories of my life here where we stayed for all my childhood. One of those memories is of an unexpected benefit that living there brought into my life and that was an introduction to the pleasure of dancing. The basement of the building was occupied by The Vincini School of Dancing. This was run by Mr Vincent and Miss Vicini (she was very Spanish). Mr Vincent made a bargain with my mother - she would do the refreshments in the interval at the dancing school and her “little girl” could have dancing lessons free. So I grew up to learn ballet (oh those hard block toed shoes!), tap dancing and modern ballroom dancing (eventually doing demonstrations of the latter with Mr Vincent). Although I certainly never became a “star” (or anything like it) at ballet or tap, I developed a lifelong appreciation of these terpsichorean arts.

Grace with her parents in 1929

30 Brixton Road was in Kennington, South London. Just along the road a short way was Kennington church where I went to Sunday School (in the crypt) and where, when I was fourteen, I was confirmed into the Church of England. My religious faith is deep within me and has certainly shaped my life, giving me an anchor to hold on to when I’ve needed one. It was from 30 Brixton Road that, aged 5, I started school. My first school was Hackford Road Infants School. It was a tall, ornate, Victorian building. Within a few days of starting school an important event in my life took place, I made my first friend. Her name was Cathie Bilsland (now Bunting) and she has been my “best” friend all my life. Without Cathie with her lovely nature and impish humour my life would have been duller and greyer. I still value her friendship beyond words. Cathie and I were always together, at school and at play, until we were eleven when Cathie’s parents moved to Aldershot. However, we took note of our first school’s motto “Keep faith” and remained friends. I spent many happy holidays at Aldershot and later, Farnham.

Grace and her friend Cathie in 1930.

At aged eleven Cathie, I and five other girls all won the Junior County scholarship, which meant we went on to what is now a Grammar school (called then a Secondary school). One of these girls became another lifelong friend - Edna Watkins (now Farmer). Edna now lives at High Wycombe and I visit her whenever I can. The secondary school chosen for me was Charles Edward Brooke school for girls. It was a church school which had strict standards of dress and behaviour. We were in dire trouble if we were ever seen by a prefect or teacher out of doors without wearing our hats or our white gloves!!! I did very well at school and was always at or near the top of the class (mainly I think because I was blessed with a good memory). The head mistress had my career mapped out for me. Firstly, I would pass my exams and gain matriculation (the highest academic grade), then go to college and finish up with a brilliant career teaching. She was wrong. When she read out the examination results she got to my name, paused and said “Now comes the biggest surprise of all - Grace - you’ve only passed at General School level, not matriculation.” What terrible humiliation for me! Especially as my arch rival Ida Garrett (now Browne) had passed. I locked myself in the lavatory and cried for hours. I was beginning to learn life’s hard lessons.

My career in ruins, my mother decided I should take the entrance exam for a vacancy with the LCC (London County Council) to do clerical work at the County Hall, Westminster. This was in 1938. Fate was taking a hand. I passed the exam and it was here that I met my husband to be in 1940.

But I have left a few important events out so let me go back a bit. In 1934, when I was only twelve years old, suddenly and unexpectedly, my Dad died. He had acute appendicitis, not diagnosed as such by his doctor. He was taken too late to St Giles Hospital, Camberwell where he died while undergoing an operation for peritonitis. This was a dreadful blow to my mother and I. Everyone loved my Dad. He was kind-hearted, loving jovial and helpful to everyone he came into contact with. My mother struggled on with the caretaker’s job getting help with the heavy cleaning, but home life was never the same for either me or her.