An eventful Sunday with the grandparents

A young Margaret Mather was in a mood to be cheeky at one special lunch shared with her grandparents...

Once every two months, my paternal grandparents (pictured right) would visit for Sunday dinner. They’d travel 14 miles by bus from Greenock in the west of Scotland to my home village of Kilmacolm.

In anticipation of this visit, Mother would buy a chicken and try to impress her in-laws with her cooking skills. It wasn’t difficult, she was a marvellous cook. I can still taste the dinner she made... homemade lentil soup with freshly baked bread, succulent roast chicken with sage and onion stuffing, vegetables cooked to perfection and roast potatoes to die for filled the plates to overflowing. Pudding was normally apple pie and gloriously thick custard.

Growing up in the late Fifties, early Sixties, Sunday dinner was a real family affair and roast chicken was an extra-special treat.

I looked forward to spending time with my kind, caring and funny grandparents.

One particular Sunday when I was 15 sticks in my mind. Gran arrived sporting a fabulous new suit. It was camel coloured with a long double-breasted jacket and just above knee-length pencil skirt. She looked stunning. I enthused about her suit for hours and eventually she let me try it on.

Granddad said it looked like it was made for me. Then, much to my amazement, he suggested that Gran should give me it! She took some time to think about it then agreed. As a result she went home wearing an old grey pleated school skirt and a faded green jumper of mine!

I was in high spirits that day and, after I’d changed out of my new suit, Mum asked me to go and fetch some coal from the cellar. Granddad said he’d come and help.

Taking two large keys from the hook by the front door, we set off down the path that led to a cellar under the house. There were two heavy doors, we opened both and went inside.

I switched on the light and placed the tin bucket by the coal pile. Granddad said he would fill it to save my hands getting dirty.

I must have been full of devilment that day. Softly, I tiptoed towards the door and very gently pulled it open wide enough for me to squeeze through. On the other side, I quickly turned the key and then locked the second door before skipping back up the path and into the house. Some half hour later we were all about to sit down to dinner when Gran asked where Granddad was. I kept quiet. My father said he must be in the house somewhere. I could hear a touch of anger in his voice and thought it prudent to own up.

“Go and let him out,” he bellowed. I ran out and down the path in double quick time and unlocked the doors as fast as I could.

Granddad just laughed as he stood there with a streak of black dust on his

With two large keys we set off down the path that led to a cellar under the house

face. He said he’d been tapping SOS on the wall with a piece of coal. I had a dressing down from my father and was ordered to wash and dry all of the dinner dishes.

Later we played cards for matches (instead of money, as it was Sunday) and afterwards walked Gran and Granddad back to the bus stop and waved them off.

I have very fond memories of my grandparents – they were the best a girl could have.