My Summer at Melksham in Wiltshire
Some warm memories from my life in the eighties
After sending out over seventy applications for jobs, please note that they were physical letters (no email at that time), I got called out for one job interview. As a foreign student in the UK in the eighties nobody was willing to help you get your summer placement. The onus was on me. Work for free or yourself get a respectable summer job that pays. Only two options. As a twenty something I wasn’t really happy about working for free. Done that. The previous year I had to work without any pay for six months as a research assistant. The work was good but having no pay was a bummer.
As luck would have it from that one interview, I got the job. I was super thrilled and very chuffed. Patting myself on the back, having got a paying summer internship without any help from anybody. No references. No university placement machinery supporting me. I was on top of the world. The icing on the cake was that I would get to live in one of the nicest parts of the UK — Wiltshire.
Once getting the job sunk in, I had to figure out how to set up base in Melksham. The company, Avon Tyres, offered to put me up for the first two weeks at The Kings Arms, an 18th century inn replete with history. Melksham, itself was a small town then with a long history, set on the banks of the River Avon. The name itself derives from Meolcham, “Meolc” was at one time the name for milk and “ham” for a village. At one point there was a long association for the area with dairy farming and pasture.
By the middle of the 14th century Melksham became a weaving hub. The main product was white broadcloth. The weavers and spinners got their supply of wool from North Wiltshire and the Cotswolds. The weaving business was on its last legs by the late 19th century, and the last working mill, The Matravers Mill, alongside the river Avon, was auctioned in 1888 and was used to set up at that time as the Avon India Rubber Company. Good news is that it still continues to survive and thrive as the Cooper Avon Tire Factory, having been taken over by the American tyre company Cooper at the turn of this century.
Map in hand, around Eastertime, I loaded up my car and drove west from Uxbridge. In those days, life was simple and all I had fitted into my car. I could load up and leave for anywhere without leaving a trace. The concept of fear did not exist. I was filled with excitement at starting my first proper job.
Adam Wakefield, my boss at the time, made every effort to ensure that I settled in well. I was put in to assess their entire purchasing process with a view to migrating from a card-based system to a computer based one. This was nineteen-eighty-seven, computers were still to become an integral part of our lives. The ones that were pressed into use were slow and of limited capability.
During the first week as I familiarized myself with the workings of the purchase department, I also had to search for a place to stay. The company was not going to put me up for the entire six months. I scoured the local papers for places to rent. Saw many. Rejected many.
One day the innkeeper’s wife got talking to me and directed me to Ann Gray. Ann and Victor owned a bed and breakfast on Spa Road and had been known to host foreign students in the past.
As I turned into Withleigh, Ann’s home, I just knew I wanted to stay there. My eyes feasted on the imposing stone built, double-fronted house set at the far end on about an acre of grounds. On the right was an apple orchard and the main lawns were immaculately maintained. To me it felt like the perfect English manor house, although I am sure I am probably getting the definition wrong here. It was the house of my dreams. Picture perfect and showing no signs of being almost sixty years old by then. As I walked in my twenty-year-old self was mesmerized. Fear did rear its ugly head as I thought that can I even afford it on my meagre salary. As I entered the house I put on a brave front and made every effort to push away all negative thoughts.
Ann was very warm and welcoming and put me at ease almost in seconds. I could sense the pride and joy in her voice and manner as she showed me around the house. The pride and joy she felt about her beautiful house and her family. The quintessential English family. Sarah and Catherine, her pretty daughters, twelve and ten respectively then. Victor, her upright husband, frail to look at and yet a powerhouse. And the two loving Labrador crosses — Honey and Kim. I was never much of a dog lover but over the coming months I got on well with Honey and Kim. As long as they got their belly rubs all was well with the world.
After the grand tour Ann offered me a room with full board at thirty-five pounds a week. For me that was way beyond my budget, considering that my salary was only a hundred pounds a week, but I jumped at it and accepted. It was one of the better decisions I made in my student life.
From the moment I settled into the house I never felt like I was a paying guest for Ann and her family. I just became a part of the family.
Breakfast was always a lavish experience. The dining room was always set ready whatever time I came down. Orange juice, cereals, eggs and sausages with perfectly crisp toasts. Lunch was always a fruit with sandwiches that Ann packed using her vacuum packing machine, so that they were peachy perfect when I had them after several hours. And dinner over time became a family affair.
Laundry was also done for me and often I ironed not just my clothes but all the family’s clothes. It all worked like clockwork. Nothing ever went amiss under Ann’s watchful eye. She worked tirelessly to keep every detail in order for her family and her guests.
On many evenings Victor treated me to a single malt and taught me the nuances of whisky drinking as Honey and Kim demanded their tummy rubs. That had to be a part of the evening ritual. And as and when I could, I helped the girls with their homework. Every evening I just felt like I was home.
Over the six months living at Withleigh I had the full English country living experience. Ann and Victor took me along for their seaside weekends at Bournemouth, where they owned another home. They even welcomed and became friends with my friends who came to visit and over the years got to know my family as well. And of course, I was able to experience Wiltshire as I drove around the area, making numerous trips to Bath and Bristol and many of the small towns and villages around. You can imagine that for a twenty-year-old in the eighties, living away from home a few thousand miles away, this was a big thrill.
Over the years we have kept in touch and whilst I was in the UK, I visited them often. Victor was a great help when we started a business in the UK and the family made every effort to support my every endeavor.
I was very saddened to hear Withleigh was brought down and replaced with a modern development about four years ago. The girls had moved on with their lives and Ann and Victor were ailing and finding it tough to manage the large house. They moved to a new home in Devizes, not far from Melksham.
On a cold winter afternoon in February 2017 I was able to see them in their comfortable new home in Devizes. Nothing like Withleigh but seeing them after such a long gap brought back so many memories. It was a special reunion. Now I keep in touch with all of them through the many modern messaging options. Ann is deft at messaging from her phone. I worry about their health and get an update from Sarah or Catherine as often as possible.
As fate had meant it, this scrawny Indian lad became an integral part of the Gray family. I do wish our boys could have got to know them. It was a part of my journey I would have loved to share with them.
I do so often think of the Grays and Withleigh and my time spent with them at their beautiful home.
