IT’S FOR YOU-OO!
“I’ll get it!” My mother never missed an opportunity to answer the phone. She had a curious ‘telephone voice’ which I think she must have picked up from those old Pinewood films in which everyone spoke the most frightfully decent English.
In the 50’s we had the only telephone in my street - dad was President of the First Class Operators’ Club (Radio Hams), which meant he looked after a phone and a very inky duplicator - and my mother would always listen to all business transacted on our black bakelite miracle, with a bell like a fire-engine. George had dumped Liz. Liz was on the phone in tears. Nicky was despatched to get George. Mother positioned herself in good earshot behind the kitchen door. Births, deaths, break-ups were all recorded on the phone in our hall, and then thrown open for discussion by the household and any passing neighbours.
Life without a phone is unimaginable for me. I can’t resist them and have a gallimaufry of 8 scattered around the flat and office. And I meddle endlessly with the captivatingly complicated College system with 7 lines and 48 extensions…
Occasionally I will have a ‘fast day’ from the phone and sit nervously while it rings, telling myself I will not let it rule over me! But mostly I’m helpless with curiosity. Would I were so enthusiastic to listen to God - He’s only a Call away on the Divine Helpline (Jeremiah 333): “Call to me and I will answer you …” And he’s always for you-oo.
Woman Alive monthly column
