“A liddle dab’ll do ya.”

Fulcher is an anglicized French Norman name, from ‘Fulchere.’ Barney’s dad, Fred, was Jewish, a tool-die maker, the man who made the tools for the tools. Specializing in cameras during the war. He worked on  the cameras used on the Mohene Dam Busters raid (my dad had worked on  the sights, and Mr Dow the teacher at Twickenham worked on the cardboard model used for practicing bombing  tactics, they all never met as far as I know.) His advice on painting, was the sensible, “A liddle dab’ll do ya.” He brought us beers when we were painting the bus. Barney used a Minolta 35mm on his suggestion.

Fred was smallish, balding, fast-eyed cockney bloke with a waistcoat and beer, who called me “a bit of a ponce.” Colin’s mum, in her apron and curlers, with big blue eyes and a dangerous nose, liked me well enough; she brought us tea and biscuits as we listened to Barney’s cream and brown plastic record player dropping Elvis Presley, and Big Bopper singles onto the turntable with a plop in the back bedroom with a view of the abandoned pig farm out back. But I think his big sister, Jill, did not approve of her young brother’s odd friends and influences. I hope she gets to now enjoy my reminiscences, my appologies if any thing is remiss.

 

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