MY GRANDDAD WAS the image of Nikita Khrushchev to look at. My main childhood memories of him were his wonderful shiny head and kind, round face. He was always encouraging me to do new things, especially exercises. He would do a big display and his finale was to count how many times he could touch his toes. I had to keep count, usually up to a hundred. His face would get redder and redder and then it would be my turn but he always beat me. He would end by saying how fit he was.
Most importantly, Granddad had a wonderful garden shed. In this shed he would mend the hole in my shoe, teach me how to repair a puncture and if any of my toys were broken he would always seem to make them work again. All this and much more happened with the help of the tins that contained all sorts of bits and pieces, the shelves laden with pots, the tools and all the smells of his magic shed. However, there is one memory that remains more painful. When a very loose baby tooth was causing me great distress he became my dentist and appeared with a pair of pliers from the shed. My mum told me to grip her apron and with one quick yank, the tooth was in my hand ready for the tooth fairy. Now, as the Health Minster with responsibility for dentistry, I have often thought of my first TV interview when I was asked for my comments on the man who had recently claimed that he had had no alternative but to remove his own teeth with a pair of pliers. I decided it would be unprofessional to appear to empathise! I still have the cobbler’s last as a memory of him but no trace of the pliers!
It will be no surprise that I was in the Brownies and every year on the eve of Remembrance Sunday he would show me how to polish my badge and shoes while he polished his medals and we practised marching and saluting in the back kitchen. On Sunday morning we would march to the Remembrance Service at Hawarden and show respect at the Cenotaph. I often wonder what he would think if he knew I was now the president of the Chiswick branch of the Royal British Legion and have the privilege of laying the wreath on its behalf. I never fail to think of him each year I attend in my official capacity. I doubt, however, if I keep to Granddad’s standards of ‘shoulders back, arms straight’ but I always make sure my shoes shine!
When Granddad Tom Hughes retired from Shotton Steelworks, he became keeper of Ewloe Castle – a magical place, especially to a small girl like me, who regularly appeared there dressed as a cowgirl. I would go every weekend it was open and throughout the school summer holidays and especially on Good Friday with all my friends. We would take sandwiches and a pop bottle, which we would fill with water from the natural spring. Because I was ‘special’, I was allowed to go in the keeper’s hut where the ticket books were kept and also a tin with cake and there would be a teapot and sometimes I could have cake and tea.
It was normal in those days for three generations to live together. One night my mum asked me to go upstairs to check if my granddad wanted a cup of tea. When I asked him he didn’t answer so I told Mum he was asleep. Later that night everyone was crying and no one would tell me why. The next day I was sent away with my younger brother. I never saw Granddad again. But I will always remember the magic of him as my cobbler, keeper of the castle, my special friend and my very first dentist.
Ann Keen MP represents the Brentford and Isleworth constituency in west London and is the Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State for Health Services.