Tag Archives: Woolworths Girls

WRITERS ON THE ROAD: ELAINE EVEREST

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Little did I l know that my first Saturday job at the age of fifteen and three months at the Dartford branch of Woolworths would lead me to write a series of historical sagas over fifty years later, or that the home I lived in for twenty years when first married would provide me with such a wealth of happy memories. Those memories still feature in my books today, in fact I’ve just filed my tenth book set in and around Woolies during the early 1950s.

I was born and brought up in Erith, Kent, growing up listening to my parents and family members talking about ‘the good old days’ even there were times when life wasn’t so good. The history of the small town on the south bank of the Thames has a rich history not only of its involvement during the two wars, but also of family life which fascinated this young child – and still does to this day. With my mother passing away at the age of forty I hung onto the stories she told me about growing up in the war and what happened to her family members. I would need to write many more books to cover all her memories and what I’ve discovered since she died. Even though I’ve moved away from the area I only have to close my eyes and I’m back there in the street where I had such happy memories and, in my mind, walk through the old Erith which was, in my childhood very much as it was during WW2.

As I explain to new writers, memories are fine, but writers must ensure stories we’ve grown up with fit in with the history of that time. Use archives and read, read, read as much as you can about your subject. Believe me if we get anything wrong our readers will soon correct us. One of the joys of being an author and setting my books in and around North-West Kent is being able to chat with local people and hearing their family stories and memories of the town and Woolworths; there is a large community of ex Woolies employees, and they love to share their stories.

When I wrote that stand-alone book – yes, The Woolworths Girls was originally commissioned as one book – I become so interested in the history of that well-known store and started to collect old copies of The New Bond, the Woolworths monthly staff magazine. I have copies from as far back as the 1930s and they hold a wealth of information about the different stores, staff celebrations, employment anniversaries as well as advertisements from those times; I lose hours reading through my stash!

Of course, local history and store information is important, but this author needs to know what is going on in the outside world away from the town and Woolworths, and importantly how it plays a part in my ‘girls’ lives. Hours spent at the local archive centre as well as having my nose in a non-fiction book means I glean information that may just appear in my stories.

Do I envy authors who set their stories in exotic locations? Of course, I do! However, the joy for me is knowing I only need to close my eyes and step outside the front door of number 13 Alexandra Road to see again my characters and hear their stories.

 

Elaine’s website: www.elaineeverest.com

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: ELAINE EVEREST ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM HER WOOLWORTHS GIRLS BOOKS

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Having (so far) written ten books in ‘The Woolworths Girls’ series I thought long and hard about a favourite scene from the series. My mind kept straying to Alexandra Road in Erith, Kent, where many of my characters either live or visit. Why is it so special to me? It is because I not only set the series in the town where I was born and lived for so many years, but because it was also the road where I lived when first married in 1972. Writers are told to write about what they know, and I certainly made the most of that!

Although I set my books in the past it was easy to imagine number thirteen in times gone by as the road had changed very little externally since 1903 when the houses were built. The four terraces of bay fronted homes may now have new families living in them and so many mod cons, but the ghosts of the past linger on. As a young bride I was told stories of the people who first lived there, and what happened during the two wars. Even though I was not writing novels at that time I adored these stories, as well as the gossip and tittle tattle, with some linking to my own family. I discovered two great aunts had lived at the top end of the road during the 1920s, and a couple only a few doors up from my house had a son who had been in the army with my dad. Across the road another neighbour informed me she had been ‘courted’ by my dad… It was almost as if my family had turned into my own saga! My only thoughts whilst living at number thirteen was that I’d really liked to have experienced the WW2 years living in the house as it survived apart from a wonky wall in the hall which occurred after a bomb dropped nearby in 1940.

These days I devour any information about people who once lived in Alexandra Road. Fortunately, with being able to use Facebook, local groups have popped up where we can chat about our school years and living in the area of Slade Green and Erith. I’ve heard from three women who all lived in number thirteen at different time. I even chatted with the lady whose father had laid the awful multi-coloured floor tiles in the living room during the 1950s that were still there in 1972. What grabbed my attention most was the talk of street parties to celebrate, the end of wars, coronations of different monarchs, royal weddings, and our own much loved queen’s anniversaries. Alexandra Road won the best decorated street in the South-East in 1977 for Queen Elizabeth’s silver jubilee and I was there and part of the history of the road. I recall how every house was adorned in silver foil scrunched along the guttering, courtesy of a local meat pie factory. How sheets were dyed so we could make bunting that hung across the road between every one of the seventy-five houses.  It was a grand street party with trestle tables up the road and children in fancy dress. Not having children to dress up, my three dogs wore red, white, and blue ribbons attached to their collars.

Looking back, it is the road I remember most, and recalling the stories I wove around the lives of the families behind the lace curtains in those bay windows.