Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however it is New Year’s Eve 1924, and we are northwest of Lettice’s flat, in the working-class London suburb of Harlesden where Edith, Lettice’s maid is celebrating the end of 1924 and the beginning of 1925 with her beloved parents, George and Ada. Edith’s father, George, works at the McVitie and Price biscuit factory in Harlesden as a Line Manager, and her mother, Ada, takes in laundry at home. With her brother, Bert, on shore leave from his job as a first-class saloon steward aboard the SS Demosthenes* for New Year’s Eve, George has decided to host a small New Year’s Eve gathering in their small, two storey brick terrace house which opens out directly onto the street. Although very far removed from the grandeur of Lettice’s Mayfair flat and the smart and select cocktail parties she likes to host, the Harlesden terrace is a cosy and welcoming venue for such a party. Not being alone on shore leave, Bert has invited two of his fellow saloon stewards from the Demosthenes to join him for the evening’s revels: Conlin Campbell who grew up in Harlesden with both Edith and Bert and went to sea with Bert when he took his first seafaring job, and Irish lad, Martin Gallagher. Of course, Edith has invited her beau, grocer’s boy, Frank Leadbetter, to join them, and to even up the numbers of young women, Edith has arranged for old school friends Katy Bramall, Jeannie Duttson and Alice Dunn to join them too. For their part, George and Ada have invited Mr. and Mrs. Pyecroft to spend new year in the rarified surrounds of Ada’s front parlour, whilst the young ones enjoy being raucous in the kitchen. Ernie Pyecroft is the local Harlesden ironmonger** and he and George have bonded over their love of growing marrows at the local allotment, where they both have a plot. Ada went to school with Lilian Pyecroft and it is through this connection that the Watsfords and the Pyecrofts are such good friends. Sadly, Mr. and Mrs. Pyecroft lost both their sons in the Great War, and their daughter died of the Spanish Flu during the epidemic in 1918, so being alone now, George and Ada make sure they always spend New Year’s Eve together. However the divide between the generations has been broken down by Fank, who has brought with him a gramophone and a selection of popular music records that he has borrowed from a trade unionist friend of his for the evening, which has persuaded George, Ada and the Pyecrots to join the young ones in the kitchen, where after dinner they have enjoyed an evening of celebratory drinking and dancing. Lettice, having heard of the New Year’s Eve party, bestowed two bottles of champagne upon Edith as a Christmas gift, whilst Frank obtained two bottles of wine from his chum who runs little Italian restaurant up the Islington***. Bert has spent some of his wages on buying bottles of stout and ale from a local publican, and Mrs. Pyecroft has brought a bottle of her homemade elderflower wine.
We find ourselves in the heart of the Watsford’s family home, Ada’s cosy kitchen at the back of the terrace, where everyone except for Frank and Edith are busying themselves donning coats, hats, scarves and gloves as they prepare to ring in the new year underneath the nearby Harlesden High Street Jubilee Clock Tower**** with its four gas lamps and drinking fountain. Noisily they cheerfully chat and laugh over the musical strains of ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General’***** which they have all ended up in fits of laughter over several times across the course of the party, after trying without success to sing all the tongue twisting lyrics correctly.
“I say Bert,” remarks Martin over the top of the jolly music on the gramophone. “You never told us your sister was such a beauty.”
“What?” Bert asks as he buttons up his heavy grey woollen overcoat.
“Your sister, Bert.” Martin replies, nodding in Edith’s direction and indicating to her with a half drunk glass of stout in his hand.
Bert looks up from fastening his coat and looks as Edith stands in front of Frank as he sits in her usual ladderback chair. Her hand rests on the edge of the festive cloth covered kitchen table where they had eaten their splendid New Year’s Eve roast chicken dinner cooked up by Ada earlier in the evening, which is now is littered with a selection of records in their paper sleeves. Dressed in a pretty pale pink cotton voile****** dress trimmed with matching linen that she made herself, she wears her long hair in a chignon at the back of her neck and has styled her blonde hair at the front into soft waves around her face, which are held in place with a fashionable pink bandeau******* made of pink ribbon. Being her sister, Bert has never really noticed how striking Edith is, yet as she stands, gazing seriously into Frank’s face, he sees that even without applying makeup, and without the aid of the expensive clothes and jewellery he sees many of the first class passengers in the dining saloon of his ship wear, she looks both elegant and beautiful. She catches Bert staring at her and smiles as she lifts the glass of champagne she holds in her right hand to her lips. Her smile beams like a beacon.
“Yes, she’s an English rose alright!” adds Conlin, shrugging on his coat. “Peaches and cream skin and pretty blonde hair.”
“Aye. Everyone loves a blonde.” Martin adds, agreeing with his friend.
“And what am I then?” pipes up Alice Dunn’s voice plaintively as she looks to Conlin, with whom she’s been spending most of New Year’s Eve, either sitting next to him around the Watsford’s table or dancing in his arms to the music from the gramophone around the crowded kitchen.
“You, my dear Alice, are the Vicar’s daughter********,” Conlin replies matter-of-factly, as if his statement answers her question.
“So what if I am?” she replies with a shrug, winding her scarf around her neck carefully, so as not to mess her own arrangement of soft, mousy blonde waves that she has held in place by a pale blue ribbon bandeau of her own.
“It means my dear Alice,” Conlin continues, sweeping an arm around her waist, making her squeal girlishly. “That however much fun you are, you come with a clergyman as a father-in-law for any prospective suitor, and that, can only spell trouble for me.”
“And who says I’m looking for a suitor, Conlin Campbell?” Alice answers smugly. “Least of all you!”
“All girls are looking for a suitor, Alice.” Bert opines. “Even you! Just look at Edith over there. She’s got Frank, so she’s happy.” He raises his voice slightly over the cacophony of excited voices around him as he leans on the kitchen table in an effort to catch his sister’s attention. “In fact, she and Frank are so happy in one another’s company, the pair of them don’t even want to ring the new year around the Jubilee Clock with the rest of us!”
“Oh get along with you, Bert!” Edith replies, as both she and Frank turn their attentions to her brother. “Go and yell your lungs out around the clock with the rest of them. I’m done with all that! I’ll be much happier here with Frank where it’s quieter.”
“See?” Bert says, raising his hands.
“Lucky blighter.” murmurs Martin.
“Now you just keep your eyes off our Edith, young Martin!” Ada’s voice suddenly interrupts the young people’s conversation, her voice light, yet tinged with a seriousness. “She’s Frank’s sweetheart, not yours.” She taps him on the forearm.
“Yes Mrs. Watsford.” Martin replies apologetically.
“Luckily not all of us want to be Little Polly Flinders and sit home amongst the cinders*********, Martin!” laughs Katy. “Some of us are modern girls, aren’t we Alice?”
“Indeed we are,” Alice agrees in a solicitous voice as she winds her arm through Conlin’s.
“And we want to go out and have some fun!” giggles Jeannie, who cheekily squashes Bert’s hat on his head, encouraging him to get ready to go out. “So, hurry up, Bert Watsford! Goodness knows how anyone gets fed in the dining room of your ship when you’ve always been such a slowpoke!” She prods Bert in the ribs as she speaks, making him exclaim in surprise.
“We say the same, Jeannie,” Conlin agrees, squeezing Alice’s arm with his own as he draws her closer to him. “But Martin and I keep him on time, don’t we Martin?”
“Aye, we do that.” Martin concurs.
“We just have to wait for Mum and Dad and the Pyecrofts.” Bert defends himself against his friends and shipmates light hearted teasing.
“Well, I’m ready.” Ada replies, squashing her red velvet hat with springs of dried flowers around the brim onto her head.
“And we’re here too!” George announces, walking into the room with Lilian and Earnest Pyecroft, all three wrapped up in their coats and hats, ready to go out with the others to cheer in the new year around Harlesden’s Jubilee Clock Tower.
“Right! Let’s go then!” Jeannie exclaims excitedly.
“Will you like to lead the way, Ernie and Lilian?” George asks with a sweeping gesture towards the door.
“Come Lilian my dear.” Mr. Pyecroft says, chivalrously offering his wife his hand. “Shall we?”
“Rather!” Mrs. Pyecroft answers, taking his proffered hand with her right as she pulls the small fox fur collar at her throat a little tighter around her neck. “What a marvellous way to end a jolly good knees up, George.”
“Glad you’ve enjoyed it, Lilian.” George replies with pleasure.
Lead by Mr. and Mrs. Pyecroft, Martin and Katy, Conlin and Alice, Bert and Jeannie and George and Ada begin to drift noisily out of the kitchen, all full of good spirits and laughter.
“You know you have to kiss me when the clock strikes twelve, Conlin,” Alice says as the pair of them follow Martin and Katy through the door leading from the Watsford’s kitchen to the scullery and then out the back door.
“I promise to kiss those organ playing hands of yours, Alice Dunn.” he replies with a chuckle.
“I should hope you’ll kiss me on the lips, Conlin Campbell!” she replies indignantly.
“Only if you’re lucky.” his retort rewarding him with a kittenish slap to his upper left arm from Alice.
“Are you quite sure you don’t want to come and shout in the new year with the rest of us?” Bert asks his sister and Frank as he moves towards the frosted and stained glass paned door that leads to the scullery with Jeannie on his arm. “It will be ripping fun.”
“No thank you, Bert.” Frank replies steadfastly. He raises his hands and grasps Edith’s forearms affectionately. “I’ll be fine here with Edith.”
“You go on and cheer the new year in for me, Bert.” Edith assures her brother.
“It won’t be the same without you, Edith.” Bert says a little imploringly.
“Oh Bert!” Ada scoffs. “It won’t be the last new year that you are on shore leave.” She gives his shoulder a shallow swipe at his silliness. “Come along with you.” She starts to steer her son towards the door.
“Are you so blind, Bert, that you can’t see that Edith and Frank would much rather celebrate the new year together, and alone,” Jeannie emphasises the last two words as she speaks.
“Yes, let’s give the lovebirds a little privacy.” George agrees, winking at his daughter conspiratorially, making both she and Frank blush at his remark.
“Come on! Let’s go, or it will be midnight, and we won’t have reached the Jubilee Clock!” Jeannie urges Bert.
“Alright then.” Bert shrugs, allowing himself to be steered out the kitchen door. “I say!” he calls to Edith and Frank over his shoulder. “You won’t play ‘There’s Life in the Old Girl Yet’********** before we get back, will you?”
“We won’t be gone that long, Bert!” Jeannie insists in a hiss.
“We promise.” Edith assures her brother with a comforting smile.
As Jeannie, Ada and George bustle Bert out the back door, he stops on the threshold and says to Jeannie, “You go on ahead. I just want to have a quick word with Mum and Dad. We’ll catch up in a minute.” He gives her a gentle push.
“You always were such a slowpoke, Bert.” Jeannie teases again. She smiles as she wags her finger at him warningly. “Don’t be too long, or you really will miss midnight, and I’ll be disappointed if you do.”
“I promise I won’t, Jeannie.” he assures her, shooing her away.
“What’s all this about then, Bert?” George says seriously as they stand in the streak light cast through the chink in the curtains at the kitchen window and watch Jeannie’s hat covered head disappear out the back gate and into the alleyway that runs between the Watsford’s terrace and the terrace backing onto the next street.
“Sorry Dad.” Bert apologises. “I just wanted to ask, whilst we’re alone and no-one else is in earshot, but is everything alright between Edith and Frank?”
“What do you mean, Bert?” Ada asks.
“Has Frank actually proposed yet?” Bert asks with concern.
“Well, no. Not as such yet, that I know of, anyway. Ada?”
“Edith hasn’t said anything to me, Bert.” Ada answers, her breath spilling out in a cloud of white vapour in the cold of the winter’s night. “I mean, there is an understanding between the two of them. They are both just saving up a bit more money so that they can set up house together before they formalise anything.”
“But we are expecting some kind of announcement in the new year, Bert.” George assures his son. “Quite soon as a matter of fact.”
“Frank is a good lad,” Ada goes on. “He’d ask your Dad for permission before he formally proposes to your sister.”
“What’s all this about, Bert?” George asks, his face clouding with concern.
“Well,” Bert says, lowering his gaze and shifting a loose stone across the paving stone beneath the sole of his right boot. “It’s just I had this feeling.”
“Feeling? What feeling?” George persists.
“Tonight, when they were together, there just seems to be something between them.” Bert says a little uncertainly. “Something awkward.”
“I felt that too!” hisses Ada quietly. “On Christmas Day when Frank and old Mrs. McTavish came here.”
“I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Bert goes on.
“I can’t either, but Edith’s said nothing to me, and she usually tells me most things.” Ada adds.
“But not everything.” Bert says dourly.
“Look, I’m sure it’s nothing for either of you to worry about.” George assures them, winding an arm around each of them and placing a knitted glove clad hand on their shoulders.
“Perhaps that’s why they wanted to stay behind whilst the rest of us went out.” Bert goes on, his eyes brightening.
“Perhaps lad,” George agrees. “But if it is, it is none of our affair. So, let’s go and cheer in the new year and leave them to it. Eh?”
With a firm hand, George steers his wife and son towards the open gate at the rear of the courtyard.
In the Watsford’s kitchen, with the departure of everyone else, a stillness settles in. Edith removes the needle from the gramophone record of the ‘H.M.S. Pinafore selection’ performed by the Court Symphony Orchestra, which has reached its conclusion. The stylus had been sending a soft hissing noise through the copper-plated morning glory horn of the gramophone as the needle remained locked into the groove of the recording. She carefully lifts the record from the gramophone player and slides the shiny black shellack record back into its slip case which rustles as she does.
“Gosh!” Frank opines from his seat. “You don’t notice how noisy everyone is until they are gone, do you?”
Edith smiles and chuckles. “Bert and his friends are always loud, and Katy, Jeannie and Alice are such giggling girties*********** when they get together.”
“Still, they are all very nice,” Frank adds. “And very welcoming. You brother has been so solicitous to me this evening, offering me his stout.”
“And Katy dancing with you to try and make Conlin Campbell jealous.” Edith smiles.
“Is that her game, then?”
“Yes,” Edith laughs. “Although I don’t think it worked. I think Conlin was only happy to leave you in the arms of Katy and more to the point, her two left feet.”
“Yes,” Frank admits, sighing as he does. “She wasn’t exactly light on her feet when we danced to ‘Lady Be Good’************.”
“No, I could see that.” giggles Edith. “It was rather funny seeing the two of you dance.”
“For you, maybe!”
“It was… Francis.” Edith adds Frank’s proper name at the end of the sentence cheekily, teasing him.
“I wish Gran had never let that slip.” Frank mutters begrudgingly again, as he has several times in the past. “I’m Frank now. No-one at the trades union will take me seriously if I’m called Francis.”
“Still, it was awfully good of you to bring the gramophone and records tonight, Frank.” Edith waves her hand across the selection of records on the kitchen table next to the gramophone.
“Well, really it’s my friend Richard from the Trade Unionists that we have to thank. He’s spending the new year in Wales with friends, and they already have a gramophone up there, so he didn’t need his.”
“Then thank you to Richard of the Trades Union for lending them, but thank you to you, Frank, for being kind enough to bring them with you tonight.” Edith replies. “It certainly made for a much livelier party.”
“Well, I’m glad, Edith.”
“And it brough Mum and Dad and Mr. and Mrs. Pyecroft down from the front room.”
“I’m glad for that too.”
The pair fall silent, with only the deep ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, the crackle from the coal range and the occasional distant squeal or cheer from a new year reveller in the darkened streets outside to break the quiet as it settles down around them. Edith pulls her mother’s Windsor chair up towards Frank so that she can sit opposite him, and once she has settled down comfortably into it, she toys absentmindedly with Frank’s fingers and he lets her.
“Frank, there is actually something important I want to talk to you about.” Edith says at length, her head lowered so Frank can’t read her expression as she speaks. “And that’s why I wanted us to stay behind whilst the others went on to the Jubilee Clock to ring in the new year.”
“I thought it might have been something like that.” Frank says seriously.
“Well, I just think that this needs saying before midnight, so that we can go into 1925 clear in our understanding.”
“Oh!” Frank gasps. “That does sound jolly serious, Edith.”
“It is serious, Frank.” Ediths head shoots up and she looks at him earnestly.
“Oh my!” Frank’s shoulders slump. “Best get it out then, Edith.” He turns and looks at the clock. “There are only a few minutes left in the old year, before the new one starts.”
“Well… Frank…” Edith wraps her fingers around Frank’s and holds them tightly in a still grasp as she heaves a heavy sigh. “I’ve been giving this some serious thought.”
“Should I be worried, Edith?”
“What?” Edith queries, shaking her head. “No. No, Frank. No.”
“That’s a relief.” It is Frank’s turn to sigh.
“Please Frank,” Edith pleads. “Just hear me out and don’t interrupt for a moment.”
When Frank nods shallowly and stares at her intensely with his loving eyes, Edith goes on.
“I’ve been thinking about that proposal you made to me that Sunday in the Corner House************* up Tottenham Court Road.”
“What proposal, Edith?” Frank blasts. “I haven’t actually proposed marriage yet.” Then he adds hurriedly, “Not that I won’t,” He pauses. “So long as you still want to marry me, Edith.”
“Frank!” Edith exclaims in frustration. “You don’t make things easy sometimes! I asked you not to interrupt me.”
“Oh! Sorry Edith. I won’t interrupt again.”
Edith shakes her head and sighs deeply again as she tries to recollect her thoughts.
“So, I thought long and hard about what you said that day. I won’t lie, Frank.” She looks him squarely in the face. “The idea of moving to the country from the city frightened me. In fact, it still does, if I’m being completely honest. I’ve only ever known the city you see.”
Realising what she is talking about, Frank longs to speak, and to take his sweetheart into his arms and comfort her, but he thinks better of it, understanding that Edith needs to speak her piece. So, he simply sits in his seat, leaning forward and giving her his full attention.
“But now I see that you are only trying to do the best by me, well by both of us really. After that afternoon, I went down to see Mrs. Boothby, and it was she who made me realise that if you and I do go and live in Metroland************** after we are married, it wouldn’t be so bad.” Edith takes a deep breath. “So, I guess what I’m saying, Frank, is that if the opportunity arises after we’re married, for a better position in Chalk Hill or wherever, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh Edith!” Frank gasps, standing up.
Edith stands too, and they both embrace lovingly.
“I knew the idea upset you, Edith, but not as much as it obviously has!” Frank exclaims. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, Frank. I didn’t want to let you see how much it did, because I could see how much it meant to you. You only want a better paying job to help support me, and our family if God grants us one, and a better life for us all. I can see that now.”
“Well,” Frank holds Edith at arm’s length, beaming from ear to ear. “God bless Mrs. Boothby for helping you see that, and bless you for being so brave and courageous, my down dear Edith! I must be the luckiest man in the world to have you, Edith Watsford!”
“And I must be the luckiest girl.” Edith murmurs in return,
“I mean, a job hasn’t turned up yet, and it may not, but if it does, I promise you that you won’t regret it.”
The pair embrace again, even more deeply this time.
“I better not, Frank Leadbetter!” Edith says with a laugh. “I hope wherever you take me, I will be close to a cinema. I don’t want to miss out on the latest Wanetta Ward film, just because we are living in Metroland.”
“I promise you won’t miss out, dear Edith!” Frank assures her.
Suddenly there is the distant chime of clocks striking midnight and cheers going up.
“Listen!” Edith exclaims. “It’s midnight! Happy New Year, Frank.”
“Happy 1925 Edith.” Frank replies.
And with that, the two press their lips together in the first kiss between them for 1925, the new year suddenly full of possibility, trepidation and excitement.
*The SS Demosthenes was a British steam ocean liner and refrigerated cargo ship which ran scheduled services between London and Australia via Cape Town. It stopped at ports including those in Sydney and Melbourne. She was launched in 1911 in Ireland for the Aberdeen Line and scrapped in 1931 in England. In the First World War she was an Allied troop ship.
**An ironmonger is the old fashioned term for someone who sells items, tools and equipment for use in homes and gardens: what today we would call a hardware shop. Ironmongery stems from the forges of blacksmiths and the workshops of woodworkers. Ironmongery can refer to a wide variety of metal items, including door handles, cabinet knobs, window fittings, hinges, locks, and latches. It can also refer to larger items, such as metal gates and railings. By the 1920s when this story is set, the ironmonger may also have sold cast iron cookware and crockery for the kitchen and even packets of seeds for the nation of British gardeners, as quoted by the Scot, Adam Smith.
***The Italian quarter of London, known commonly today as “Little Italy” is an Italian ethnic enclave in London. Little Italy’s core historical borders are usually placed at Clerkenwell Road, Farringdon Road and Rosebery Avenue - the Saffron Hill area of Clerkenwell. Clerkenwell spans Camden Borough and Islington Borough. Saffron Hill and St. Peter’s Italian Catholic Church fall within the Camden side. However, even though this was the traditional enclave for Italians, immigrants moved elsewhere in London, bleeding into areas like Islington and Soho where they established bars, cafes and restaurants which sold Italian cuisine and wines.
****The cast iron Jubilee Clock has remained a Harlesden landmark since its erection at Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887. It is ornate, decorated with dolphins, armorial bearings, a fluted circular column with spirals, shields of arms and swags. When it was built, it featured four ornate gas lit lamps sprouting from its column and two drinking fountains with taps and bowls at its base. It also featured a weathervane on its top. During the late Twentieth Century elements were removed, including the lanterns and the fountain bowls. In 1997 the clock was restored without these elements, but plans are underway to restore of the weathervane and recreation of the original four circular lanterns to the clock and the two fountains.
*****“I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” (often referred to as the "Major-General's Song" or "Modern Major-General's Song") is a patter song from Gilbert and Sullivan's 1879 comic opera “The Pirates of Penzance”. It has been called the most famous Gilbert and Sullivan patter song. The piece is difficult to perform because of the fast pace and tongue-twisting nature of the lyrics.
******Voile is a lightweight, plain woven fabric usually made from 100% cotton or cotton blend. It has the higher thread count than most cotton fabrics, which results in a silky soft hand. Voile fabric is a perfect dressmaking option for summer because it is lightweight, breathable and semi-sheer.
*******A bandeau is a narrow band of ribbon, velvet, or similar, worn round the head. They were often accessorised with jewels, imitation flowers, feathers and other trimmings in the 1920s when they were at the height of their popularity.
********The vicar of All Souls Parish Church in Harlesden between 1918 and 1927 was Ernest Arnold Dunn. Whilst I cannot find any details about his family life, I’d like to think that he was a happily married man of god and could well have had a daughter named Alice who no doubt played the organ in church on Sundays.
*********‘Little Polly Flinders’, is an English nursery rhyme which emerged in the early 1800s. Charles Dibdin, a talented English poet, is said to have composed this delightful ditty. The rhyme spins the tale of a young girl who, one fine morning, wakes up early and adorns her hair with roses. The rhyme was likely concocted as a cautionary tale and a relatable experience for young children. The primary message of the rhyme is to inspire a sense of responsibility, discipline, and order. It cautions against the consequences of neglecting one's duties, such as ruining one's garments. In the mid Nineteenth Century, the song's fame grew tremendously, frequently acting as a helpful aid for instructing children in reading and writing which is why the friends of the Watsford’s children would have known it so well.
**********‘There’s Life in the Old Girl Yet’ is a song that was very popular in Britain in 1924. With music and lyrics by Noël Coward the song comes from the 1923 London West End musical, ‘London Calling’ and was popularised by English singer and comic character actor Maisie Gay.
***********A “giggling girty” means a girl who laughs a great deal. The term was turned into a popular song in America by the “original radio girl” Vaughn DeLeath. The term has generally fallen out of fashion because the name Gertrude is equally out of favour today.
************‘Lady Be Good’ is a foxtrot from the Broadway musical ‘Lady Be Good’ written by George Gershwin, released in 1924.
************J. Lyons and Co. was a British restaurant chain, food manufacturing, and hotel conglomerate founded in 1884 by Joseph Lyons and his brothers in law, Isidore and Montague Gluckstein. Lyons’ first teashop opened in Piccadilly in 1894, and from 1909 they developed into a chain of teashops, with the firm becoming a staple of the High Street in the United Kingdom. At its peak the chain numbered around two hundred cafes. The teashops provided for tea and coffee, with food choices consisting of hot dishes and sweets, cold dishes and sweets, and buns, cakes and rolls. Lyons' Corner Houses, which first appeared in 1909 and remained until 1977, were noted for their Art Deco style. Situated on or near the corners of Coventry Street, Strand and Tottenham Court Road, they and the Maison Lyonses at Marble Arch and in Shaftesbury Avenue were large buildings on four or five floors, the ground floor of which was a food hall with counters for delicatessen, sweets and chocolates, cakes, fruit, flowers and other products. In addition, they possessed hairdressing salons, telephone booths, theatre booking agencies and at one period a twice-a-day food delivery service. On the other floors were several restaurants, each with a different theme and all with their own musicians. For a time, the Corner Houses were open twenty-four hours a day, and at their peak each branch employed around four hundred staff including their famous waitresses, commonly known as Nippies for the way they nipped in and out between the tables taking orders and serving meals. The tea houses featured window displays, and, in the post-war period, the Corner Houses were smarter and grander than the local tea shops. Between 1896 and 1965 Lyons owned the Trocadero, which was similar in size and style to the Corner Houses.
*************Metroland is a name given to the suburban areas that were built to the north-west of London in the counties of Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Middlesex in the early part of the Twentieth Century that were served by the Metropolitan Railway. The railway company was in the privileged position of being allowed to retain surplus land; from 1919 this was developed for housing by the nominally independent Metropolitan Railway Country Estates Limited (MRCE). The term "Metroland" was coined by the Met's marketing department in 1915 when the Guide to the Extension Line became the Metro-land guide. It promoted a dream of a modern home in beautiful countryside with a fast railway service to central London until the Met was absorbed into the London Passenger Transport Board in 1933.
This cluttered, yet cheerful and festive domestic scene is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The wonderful nickel plated ‘morning glory horn’ portable gramophone, complete with His Master’s Voice labelling, is a 1:12 miniature artisan piece made by Jonesy’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. It arrived in a similarly labelled 1:12 packing box along with the box of RCA Victor records that you can see peeping out of their box to the right of the gramophone. The gramophone has a rotating crank and a position adjustable horn.
The records scattered across Ada’s kitchen table at the front of the gramophone are all made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Known for his authentic recreation of books, most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. What might amaze you is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. Not only did Ken Blythe create books, he also created other 1:12 miniatures with paper and that includes the wonderful gramophone records you see here. Each record is correctly labelled to match its dust cover, and can be removed from its sleeve. Each record sleeve is authentically recreated just like its life-sized equivalent, right down to its creasing and curling corners. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make them all miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The bottle of champagne is a 1:12 size artisan miniature made of glass by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The champagne glasses on the table are hand-made 1:12 artisan miniature pieces made from blown glass, acquired from Karen Ladybug Miniatures. The glass and bottles of ale are also :12 artisan miniature pieces made from blown glass, acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The tablecloth is actually a piece of bright cotton print that was tied around the lid of a jar of home made peach and rhubarb jam that I was given a few years ago.
The paper chains festooning Ada’s kitchen I made myself using very thinly cut paper. It was a fiddly job to do, but I think it adds festive cheer and realism to this scene, as fancy Christmas decorations would have been beyond the budget of Edith’s parents, and homemade paper chains were common in households before the advent of cheap mass manufactured Christmas decorations.
In the background you can see Ada’s dark Welsh dresser cluttered with household items. Like Ada’s table, the Windsor chair and the ladderback chair to the left of the photo, I have had the dresser since I was a child. The shelves of the dresser have different patterned crockery and silver pots on them which have come from different miniature stockists both in Australia and the United Kingdom. There are also some rather worn and beaten looking enamelled cannisters and a bread tin in the typical domestic Art Deco design and kitchen colours of the 1920s, cream and green. Aged on purpose, these artisan pieces I recently acquired from The Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.
You will also notice on the shelves of the dresser a few of the common groceries a household like the Watsfords’ may have had: Bisto gravy powder, Ty-Phoo tea and Oxo stock cubes. All these items are 1:12 size artisan miniatures made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with great attention to detail paid to their labels and the shapes of their packaging.
The first Bisto product, in 1908, was a meat-flavoured gravy powder, which rapidly became a bestseller in Britain. It was added to gravies to give a richer taste and aroma. Invented by Messrs Roberts and Patterson, it was named "Bisto" because it "Browns, Seasons and Thickens in One". Bisto Gravy is still a household name in Britain and Ireland today, and the brand is currently owned by Premier Foods.
In 1863, William Sumner published A Popular Treatise on Tea as a by-product of the first trade missions to China from London. In 1870, William and his son John Sumner founded a pharmacy/grocery business in Birmingham. William's grandson, John Sumner Jr. (born in 1856), took over the running of the business in the 1900s. Following comments from his sister on the calming effects of tea fannings, in 1903, John Jr. decided to create a new tea that he could sell in his shop. He set his own criteria for the new brand. The name had to be distinctive and unlike others, it had to be a name that would trip off the tongue and it had to be one that would be protected by registration. The name Typhoo comes from the Mandarin Chinese word for “doctor”. Typhoo began making tea bags in 1967. In 1978, production was moved from Birmingham to Moreton on the Wirral Peninsula, in Merseyside. The Moreton site is also the location of Burton's Foods and Manor Bakeries factories. Typhoo has been owned since July 2021 by British private-equity firm Zetland Capital. It was previously owned by Apeejay Surrendra Group of India.
Oxo is a brand of food products, including stock cubes, herbs and spices, dried gravy, and yeast extract. The original product was the beef stock cube, and the company now also markets chicken and other flavour cubes, including versions with Chinese and Indian spices. The cubes are broken up and used as flavouring in meals or gravy or dissolved into boiling water to produce a bouillon. Oxo produced their first cubes in 1910 and further increased Oxo's popularity.
The large kitchen range in the background is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water).
