Townmead Road was not a child friendly place to live in for two reasons - the traffic and the fact that the houses were all on one side. The high brick walls opposite were intimidating to a small child and then there was all soot from the chimneys. When I married and moved to Kent my mother in law was surprised by the fact that I always turned the washing inside out before pegging it on the line because in Townmead the particles in the air meant that you had to wash it again if you forgot. The window sills were always thick with grit too. We lived at 124 and that was lined up with the centre of the chimney stacks of the Power station on the opposite side of the road.

We the Haddock Family consisted of father- Arthur Seymour age 52 a painter and decorator born in Mortlake. Mother- Margaret Haddock nee Stock-O’Connor born in Fulham a housewife age 50. Frank Albert age 12 and a schoolboy at Sloane Grammar in Hortensia Road Chelsea . We had a larger family but they were grown and not living at home.

My Mum was 40 when I came along and I was the 10th child so she has been gone to her rest 26 years and I still miss her. I was 9 when we moved from Bulow Road to Townmead Road and the 1939-1945 war was in its last few months. The house was available for rent as were many houses in the road as it was in an area at risk from German bombs.

We rented the ground floor of 124 Townmead Road and upstairs lived Walter C Hannam, a taxi cab driver for Mann and Overtons in the Wandsworth Bridge Road, his wife and son Phillip who was the same age as me. They had lived next door to us in  Bulow  Road.

The flats were self contained in that the tiny yard out back was reached by a flight of stairs so only the front door was shared. The front door opened onto a narrow passage way which went to the foot of the stairs leading to the upper flat and on the left side was a medium sized front room next to the main bedroom and then a small bedroom which I shared with my brother. Opposite the small room was the door to the coalhole, I don’t remember if the coal was tipped in from the front door via a shute or not. The kitchen was a fair size and there was a scullery with a wash boiler and cold water tap. Outside was a flush toilet and a small square yard . it was fenced and not a blade of grass ever grew.

There was not a community spirit in the road and I can remember only one friend from that time.  Dorothy Besfore lived two or three doors away, I later saw her on a TV talent show in 1959 or 60. I also remember the Buckinghams and the Byrnes but nothing much about them. My Mother made a boast of not “knowing” the neighbours. I think that she didn’t want anyone to ask awkward questions as my dad had deserted the family in 1934 and had returned to avoid awkward questions from the taxman!

There was a Stock Family who lived further up the road towards Wandsworth Bridge and they were my mother's Uncle Sidney and his wife Sarah. She was a Jenkins and they originated in Sand’s End. We did visit a few times but it didn’t last.

I met my husband when I was 16 and he 18 and in the Royal Navy, by writing to a film magazine who ran a pen-friend column. We celebrated 50 years of marriage in 2007 so it was a good idea.

I can remember Sayers the greengrocer shop in Townmead Road. I was a regular shopper there on my way to the bus stop at the top of Wandsworth Bridge Road on school days. Can't say I contributed much as I bought "specs"mostly. They were specked fruit with the bad bits cut out. This was in 1946 when any food was welcome.

There was one pass time that all we children could do and that was to collect shrapnel preferably while it was still warm. The ack guns would tear along the road during an air raid and the lovely shiny and rough bits of metal were all there for the taking. When I think of it our parents couldn’t have moved us to a more potentially dangerous spot .The river was behind the factories and it was known the pilots used it as a beacon and there were all these lovely juicy inflammables lined up.

We were jolly lucky to get through the war and I can’t recall even one bomb dropping on a house in our road. But it was a dreary place to live and due to family circumstances it was an unhappy time for us. My parents had been separated since 1934 and so my dad was a stranger and it was a wrench for us to be taken from a happy street to this forbidding one, plus the reconciliation was not a success. i rest my case.

I had a scout through a book on Fulham during the war years and came across a number of references to Townmead Rd and Fulham Power station which may be of interest to readers.