Thursday, 6 January 2005

The Way We Were

 

Photos 1.View of Queensgate from Ashley Court

           2. Freda on Stratters' switchboard

           3. Stratford Court Hotel

           4.  A very young Eugen lol

           5.  The Beachcomber

July 1962

As I walked into The Stratford Court Hotel, just off Oxford Street. I knew I had to get this job.  It was Friday, and I'd spent a whole week in a fruitless search for both a job and accomodation.  Sleeping on a friend's floor, even dossing down for the night at St Pancras Station, just to save a few pounds.  Now, I had just my train fare home, if I didn't get this job I would just have to go back home to Sheffield - not a happy thought.  I'd had such high expections - London in the 'Swinging Sixties had always seemed such an exciting place to be, in fact I'd found it pretty lonesome.

I walked up to the reception desk to announce my arrival, as the tall, young man turned round my heart did a somersault.  The golden tan, the sunstreaked brown wavy hair and above all - the most incredible green eyes I'd ever seen all served to make every nerve tingle.  He was the most immaculately turned out young man I'd seen outside a Tailor's shop.  "Absolutely gorgeous" was my instant verdict!  "Good Morning", he said quietly, in a tantalisingly husky accent. He blushed, smiling shyly when I said I'd come for an interview for the telephonist vacancy.  He didn't say  a word, just pointed in the direction of the tiny office situated next to the reception desk.  I'd already made my mind up - I'd take this job, no matter what!

I was in luck, not only did they need me desperately, but they were offering accomodation too!  And that wasn't the end of it, although the room turned out to be a shabby little garrett at the top of the building known as Ashley Court, it was situated in the very best part of town - in Kensington's Queensgate, just a few steps from the cool green plush of  Kensington Gardens.  Work was a mere 6d bus ride away, or a half hour walk through The Parks on fine summer days.  I moved in that afternoon and then had the whole weekend to explore, before starting work on Monday. Never had I been so keen to get to work - desperate to see again that gorgeous young man.  And thus the scene was set for three of the most frustrating ( tho' undeniably enjoyable) years of my life.

It  took literally weeks to find out that his first name was Eugen as everyone called each other very formally 'Mr' (all males on the reception lol!)  He was an incredibly shy Swiss-German and no one knew anything about him.  Yorkshire people are well known for their open friendliness and to find someone so inaccessible, especially someone I was so keen to get to know, had me practically tearing my hair out in frustration.  But very, very slowly but surely little bits of information filtered through to me.  I had a great ally in my Supervisor who had taken me under her wing and became my '2nd Mum'.  She did everything she could to get us together, making sure we took our breaks at the same time, even allowing me to change shifts so that me'n Eugen could work together.  I absolutely hated it when we were on opposite shifts, I would rush to work early just to have a few words with him, or joy! have a cup of coffee together in the staff room.  I often wonder if we would ever have become friends if it hadn't been for my dogged determination!

When we were both working on the late shift, he got into the habit of coming into my office to have his tea & biscuits.  It was during these few minutes together that I would be able to glean a few scraps of information about him and his family back home in Switzerland.  He told me he was 26, he laughed and said I was just a baby, when I said I was 21. I was most suprised when he told me that his mother was also called Freida and so was his sister, who was known as Friedel (little Frieda) therefore I would be Friedeli (littlest Frieda) lol.  Eugen didn't seem to find it to be of any particular significance, whereas I was over the moon - 'everything happens in threes' I was once told.  I'd already made up my mind that Eugen was the man for me! The hard part was not letting him know this, when I was so impatient to get a proper relationship going between us. I tried every trick in the book to spend some time with him outside working hours.

I couldn't persuade him to come to any of the social events organised by the Hotel Group, Grand Metropolitan.  Where I lived, we had a bar, sportsroom, and party room, the social life was pretty good there, and although I enjoyed it to the full, without Eugen I was never really happy.

For a while, Eugen lived in Marylebone High Street, just a short walking distance from 'Stratters'.  Then he found it necessary to find another place to live, and as luck would have it, his new abode was just off  Kensington High Street - not only just 10 mins. away from me, but it meant that at going home time, we would catch the same bus home!  This became a particulary significant part of our relationship, as now we often went home together, and after we'd been on the early shift, we'd find a nice cafe and indulge ourselves with gooey cream cakes, then walk all the way home, laughing and giggling like a pair of kids!

I'll never forget the first time he invited me back to his flat, because I felt so very honoured.  He was a very private person, and to be allowed into his domain was really something.  He loved cooking, and boasted that he made the best cheese omelette ever, and offered to cook one for me.  I bought an apple pie and fresh cream for dessert.  I was impressed by the way he'd organised his living room, a lamp placed on the floor behind a settee gave it a warm, cosy glow.  We spent a most pleasant evening together- and he was right about the omelette, I'd never had a 'souffle omelette' before, and it was truly gorgeous! Although I was slightly puzzled by the fact that he kept the door to his flat wide open the whole time, so that any  passing flat dweller could see right in. Was he afraid that I was going to 'jump' him???

He walked me to the bus stop and waited with me until my bus came.  I planted a light kiss on his cheek (saucy minx)  and as I jumped on the bus, felt a slight tug on my arm.  But it was too late for him to reciprocate - I was already on the bus.

Our friendship was creeping along at a steady rate, even though Eugen and I had never been out on a proper 'date'. And when that day eventually arrived - oh dear.........

to be continued.......

......Things began to take off when, noticing how much knitting I did during the quiet evening shifts, he asked if I would be able to knit him a jumper - wouldn’t I just!!!

I went straight out and chose several patterns and samples of wool for him to decide on what it was he wanted. To my surprise he told me to choose - as he thought that whatever I decided would be ok by him. I was in my element! I was also a bit surprised that he didn’t seem to mind everyone else knowing that I was knitting him a jumper. Consequently, we both came in for a lot of teasing and jokes about ‘favouritism’ from the rest of the staff.

Eventually the jumper was finished, and he loved it. He said that in return he would like to take me out to dinner - at last, a real date! My excitement was uncontainable, unfortunately the evening he suggested, I was working. But Angie, my supervisor, came to the rescue - for a date with Eugen, nothing was impossible! When I told him that I was able to make that evening after all, he said he’d made other arrangements.....

Although Eugen had become the cynosure of my life, I wasn’t blind to every other male. I was 21 and full of the joys of life. I was keen to sample London’s night life - with or without Eugen. My friend Bernie, one of the housekeepers, the other telephonists, and the receptionists - all male lol! were keen to visit all the new clubs opening up at that time - Le Chat Che Peche, Le Kilt, Annabelle’s etc. etc.and we were perfectly happy to dance all night, even after having just finished an eight hour shift and knowing that we’d have to be up for the early morning shift, soon after we’d got to bed!

And then there were the hotel guests. Of course we were not allowed to go out with the hotel guests (yeah right!) But they were the only ones who could afford to take us to all those wonderfully expensive places in London. The London Hilton was full of exotic sounding bars - I loved the 007 bar on the top floor, where drinks cost a £1 a time - and 12 would have cost me a weeks wages lol!

My favourite place in those far off days was The Beachcomber at the Mayfair Hotel. Sitting at the bar on those high stools sipping at extravagantly decorated cocktails out of coconut shells, I would feel as though I had really crossed to the other side of the tracks!

Mr. King, one of our regular guests, had asked me out. "You can go anywhere you like", he offered generously, and he promptly booked a table at The Beachcomber. Then Eugen suggested another evening for our date - the same evening as my date with Stan King. Eugen versus The Beachcomber - what a choice! But Eugen won. Mr King seemed disappointed, but took the young assistant housekeeper instead!

The evening ofour date arrived, I spent ages trying to decide what to wear, but when Eugen turned up looking as though he’d just stepped out of a menswear magazine ( a very expensive menswear magazine) I just wanted to die, I felt so frumpy. He looked so absolutely over the top gorgeous that I totally lost my appetite. I cannot remember where we went or what I ate. I just felt that we were worlds apart. It had rained, and my wet hair hung dismally around my shoulders, drops of moisture slid down my face, doing heaven knows what to my eye makeup. I was afraid to catch a glimpse of myself in the restaurant window. Eugen was charming, but I felt thoroughly miserable. I’d waited a long time for this.

Afterwards we got a taxi back, even though it was only a short walk to Queensgate. As we stood on the steps of Ashley Court, he took my hand and shook it warmly, thanking me for a nice evening, then he jumped into the waiting taxi and was gone. It was the first time in my life that anyone had ever shook my hand after a date. I’m happy to say it was the last!

More tomorrow.....

Despite the dismal date, our friendship grew, though not fast enough for me. It didn’t follow the usual pattern of conventional dating, we’d leave work together, walk arm in arm down Oxford Street for all the world like your average couple. But we weren’t a couple, we were just friends, and it drove me mad because I wanted more. We’d stop to look in the shop windows, then on coming to the cinema he’d say " hey, let’s go in", as if on a sudden whim. I don’t think we ever planned a date in advance, but we were getting closer - literally........

As the nights grew colder, Eugen began to wear a very smart, cosy looking overcoat, it was because of this soft, brown coat that I nick-named him ‘teddy bear’. As we waited at the bus stop for our bus home, he unbuttoned his overcoat and wrapped it round me, the only way we could both take advantage of its warmth, was to cuddle up very closely inside the coat - heaven! When the bus eventually came, we’d rush upstairs hoping to get on the back seat, where we’d cuddle up together, the other passengers would turn round and laugh as we argued over paying the fare, Eugen always insisted on paying, and I didn’t think this was fair.

And then there were the hotel managers. Of course we weren’t allowed to go out with the hotel managers. ;-) Each hotel had a main manager and two assistants, and there was a great gulf between the ‘lower’ staff and the managerial, in fact egos abound. The Head Porter thought he was the most important, the Restaurant Manager, thought it was him and the Head Chef!!!! well, he ruled supreme over all - nobody told him what to do. Therefore we plebs were necessary to make everyone else feel important lol!

I disliked Paul Phillips, one of Stratter’s assistant managers, intensely, he was just so-oo full of himself, but Bob Thorburn , the other a.m. was really nice, in a laid back sort of way. He was usually standing by the porter’s desk by the main doors, at the end of my shift and he always said ‘au voir’, his eyes, I felt had an unfathomable depth. Because of my obsession with Eugen, Bob only hovered on the edge of my radar. Nevertheless, I was quite disappointed when I heard that he was going to work at Head Office, with immediate effect. Before finishing my shift that evening, I rang Bob in his office to say cheerio and wish him the best of luck at H.O. He seemed surprised, but pleased that ‘I cared enough’ and invited me up to his office for a quick chat. We chatted at some length, until looking at my watch, I realised how late it was and that I’d missed my last bus, Bob rang the porter’s desk and asked them to get me a taxi, then he gave me the money to pay for it, apologising for having kept me so late. He walked me to the top of the stairs, then asked quietly, " If I rang to ask you out, what would you say?" This took me by surprise but I managed to say "I’d say yes". " I thought you had something going on with one of the receptionists?" he said. "We’re just friends" I told him, trying not to sigh with frustration at our plodding relationship.

Bob and I decided to keep a very low profile, and gave each other code names. When he rang Stratters to speak to me, he would be ‘Mr. MacDonald’, when I rang H.O. I would be ‘Mr. MacDonald’s secretary’ lol. Unfortunately, Angie was on very friendly terms with Bob, and if she picked up his call, she recognised his voice immediately, so he had to pretend he’d rung her for a chat. She told me some time later, that she had, in fact, rumbled us!

My first date with Bob very nearly became a date with Eugen. On the day of my date with Bob, Eugen and I came home from work together, and it was almost as though he suspected something, as he invited himself back to Ashley Court. I told him I had a date, but he waited around whilst I got ready. It was obvious he had a greatcuriosity to know who I was going out with and insisted on walking with me to the pub where I was meeting Bob, even offering to take me out if my date didn’t turn up - aaargh !! Why did he have to do this to me?

Bob did turn up, and so began a rather nice relationship, and tho’ I became quite fond of him, it was Eugen who held my heart and I would rather have gone out with him than anyone else. But I wasn’t going to stay in moping, there was far too much fun to be had! And I certainly had no shortage of offers - not with the crew of El-Al Airlines descending on the hotel at regular intervals. As soon as they arrived, it was pandemonium. They were desperate to get their social lives organised - and the female staff were first in the firing line, I don’t know about the other girls, but I refused to go out with any of them, their reputation with the ladies was not good, and I had no intention of becoming a notch on anyone’s bedpost! But what a good humoured lot they were, and Rafi Shaul (who later married *Mandy Rice Davies)  was one of my favourites, he’d bring us huge fresh oranges direct from the orchards of Jaffa. What a character! I’d have to give him 10 out 10 for perseverance lol!

We girls were fair game for any guest looking for a date, and it could get quite awkward trying to be firm but polite in refusing. On one such occasion, Eugen came to my rescue quite unexpectedly by referring to me as 'his wife’. The guest apologised profusely, saying he hadn’t realised I was married - but then, neither had I! From that moment on he referred to me constantly as ‘his wife’ and always came to the rescue if any of the guests came on too strong. But it was all an act - it was all shadow and no substance. But then came Christmas.......whoohoo!

* From the internet:-

It was 1963 which was one of the most exciting years in the Swinging Sixties. It reminds me of Carnaby Street and the start of the Beatles. Another scandal, about that time, was a slum landlord called Peter Rachman.

The Profumo scandal broke and was of special interest to us as we were reaching the age of sexual awareness. It made Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice Davis into household names, which I will never forget.

.....and they came to stay at Stratters lol!

 

 

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh no !  a cliffhanger...I can`t wait to find out what happened with the gorgeous Eugen    Sandra x

Anonymous said...

I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the next instalment. Hurry up and get typing Freda!
Sylvia

Anonymous said...

ha ha ha - don't hold your breath gals.

Thinks: How do I condense 3 years into under 25,000 words........

Anonymous said...

Ok a bit more ;-)
Freda

Anonymous said...

Wonderful, another fascinating insight into your life.  Like the others I am waiting to hear what happened with Eugene.  Keep up the great work! xxxx

Anonymous said...

I particularly liked the photo of you at the switchboard. I was a switchboard operator for several years, on a more recent model! Your journal is a great read.
http://journals.aol.co.uk/irisclyde/GeminiTaurusRising/

Anonymous said...

Nice to meet a fellow telephonist - I'm a Taurean too!

Anonymous said...

This is fascinating reading, I love it, what happened at Christmas?  Tell us, tell us now!!!
Sara   x