Anne Fake




Anne Church formerly Anne Fake

Born in 1949


She smiled and I knew I should not have tied a knot in my dishcloth knitting. Miss Coyle was old, I could not imagine how old and she had an angelic smile which she wore before smacking you; she kept a large ruler on her desk for this purpose which she waved in the air in a very threatening manner. I can remember her hair, it was grey and plaited on both sides of her head like earphones. Adults liked her but I didnít.

The nuns were different, so kind and often amusing. Sister Magdalene even tied back her headdress and hitched up her long skirts so she could play netball and rounders with us. She also had many pockets in her habit from where she produced an endless supply of sweets.

Our classes were very large and frequently had children who did not stay very long because their fathers were in the army or, even more interesting, because they were Irish gypsy children. The gypsy children were fascinating, telling tales of eating by camp fires, sleeping on the grass and many more things that we could not imagine doing.

The nit nurse called often.

David Comisky sat next to me and he was wonderful Ė I believed he could do anything!!

Then there was Pat Geraghty, who told me she had blue blood because her Mum had been bitten by a snake whilst travelling in an aeroplane over South Africa. Patís Dad worked in a brewery nearby and most days we had a bottle of ginger beer to share.

Is it a trick of age? Or fact that I cannot remember wearing a coat to school in the summer.


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