My dad was sadly killed during the Second World War (he was aircrew), and my mother’s mental health never really recovered. As a result, I was often sent to stay for extended periods with my mum’s sister Maureen (or Auntie Mo, as everyone called her), who lived just outside of London with her husband Pete and their five children.
Uncle Pete was in the navy, so he was absent for long periods, and having at times six young children to care for (between two and 10 years old – I was somewhere in the middle at seven) meant that Auntie Mo had no time for the child-centric, touchy-feely parenting of today. She just didn’t have the time, and to put it simply, you either behaved or got your bottom smacked!