Smacked by the daily

I was raised in quite a middle class English family during the 1960s and although we weren’t hugely well off, we did have the help of a ‘daily’ – a lady named Dorothy who came in each day during the week to help my mother with the housework, mostly cleaning and washing.

My mother thought a lot of Dorothy but I always found her quite a foreboding character – she was heavily built, with muscular arms and large, rough hands. She could be quite brusque with me if I interfered with her doing her work, so I tended to keep well out of her way.

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