MY father was very severe on ‘no games’ on Sunday – anyway for the vicarage children. I thought at the time - and I still think – that was nothing to do with being a Christian. However, in case God thought we might sneak out for a quick game when He was preoccupied elsewhere, the tennis net and the croquet hoops had to be put away!
There were many tennis courts in Wethersfield. The Manor House (two), Wethersfield Place, Brook Farm, (abandoned in the war) Hill Foot (owned by Mrs Maberley) next to the village hall which she more or less provided for the village, the vicarage and the Greens next door to the vicarage. My sister and I were regular visitors to Hillfoot and to the Greens.
On the occasion of the Annual Fête at the Manor House, tennis players from neighbouring villages and from Braintree came to

take part in the Mixed Doubles Tennis Tournament. The preliminaries were held at various courts and the Grand Final on the Manor House courts watched by a large crowd. One year a partridge was sitting on a nest (on the ground of course) of 14 eggs near to the courts. She did not budge but made many complaining noises!
The fêtes were good fun with many sideshows and stalls, maypole and Morris dancing and excellent teas. Most villages had such an event in their biggest house and I toured them all. What would we have done without bikes – although I was allowed to drive my father’s car when I was 18. No driving test required - I’ve never had one.
One day, strangers’ invaded our village. They were walkers and we found out they were called ‘hikers’. They were viewed with great suspicion, although they turned out to be quite harmless. Mostly they came from London and this was their holiday, escaping to another world in the country.
In those days people received no holidays with pay, except the Church days of obligation which included Ash Wednesday and Ascension Day. Village people talked of ‘going abroad’ for their holiday, which meant going to friends or family in a neighbouring village.
Residential Homes and Nursing Homes were unheard of but there were of course, alms houses. Ageing grandparents lived with one of their children.
The last house in Wethersfield before entering Shalford was occupied by a Congregational minister and his family. They obviously had private means to live in such a large house with every sign of wealth.
The Rev. Campbell was in charge of a church in Braintree but his wife and their daughter Gwendoline often attended the Wethersfield Chapel. They had a well- kept tennis court on which the Wethersfield youth tennis team played other village teams.
I hit my first golf ball there as Mr. Campbell was a keen player. The river flowed along the back of their grounds and he was not worried about losing balls. To my surprise –and his – I hit the balls over the river. He brought two Dutch horticultural experts to stay with them and launch their hot- houses in order to grow peaches. These men somehow got to know Mr. Green who lived in the house next to the vicarage, and I made up a foursome with them in the billiard room.
My sister and I were often invited to play when the Greens had a tennis party (plus strawberry teas). Unfortunately, the Greens, faithful church members, went

through a difficult time and sold their house and moved away. This led to the excitement of THE FIRE. The new owners had only been residents for a few weeks when the fire happened. My father and I were playing chess when there was a furious knocking on the door. It was the chauffeur from Addisons. The “Greens” house was on fire. The fire brigade at Braintree was summoned and then we went to the house and rescued some furniture including a piano.
The fire brigade was too late and the house was totally destroyed. Car loads of people from Braintree followed the Fire Brigade and the new owners turned up. The final outcome was that the furniture we had rescued, especially the piano, led to suspicion by the insurance company that it was a deliberate fire by the new owners to claim not only on the house but expensive furniture.