Far in the future we’ll go to Google, in 1951 Aden we go to F/Sgt Tubby Trinnick. The genial pharmacist from SSQ always helps his neighbours’ kids. Besides the others fancy his lovely daughter Marcia with her dazzling smile, though I think she’s getting a bit past it, she must be 17 if she’s a day.
Mrs. Trinnick invites us in and splits an ice-cool Coca-Cola between the three of us, an expensive treat at 50c a bottle, about 4p in 2013 money. “Please Mr. Trinnick, what’s VD?” Both parties watch us warily as we explain what has happened, then Mr. Trinnick beckons us closer. “I can’t tell you, it’s a State Secret”, he says. We plead for just a teeny inkling.
“Well, only if you promise never never never to mention it again. You know about the Russians?” Even we had heard about the Cold War and the conflict in Korea. Wide-eyed, we nod agreement. “And you’ve heard about things that come from space?” Again we nod, for a film about such creatures had shown in the Astra Cinema only last month, with an H for ‘Horrific’ Certificate to protect tender under-16s like us.
“The Russians are trying to give us something nasty like that, but we’re guarding against it. We don’t want them to know they know that we know, and that’s why you mustn’t breathe another word about it. Now I require all of you to sign the Official Secrets Act”. The Act, which happens to be printed on an envelope cunningly concealed in the wastebasket, is duly signed in shaky hand and we leave, carefully checking the street for Russian spies.
I glance back to see Mrs. Trinnick displaying all too familiar symptoms. Her face is red, her eyes are streaming, and she is making funny choking noises. Oh well, I think, Mr. Trinnick’s a pharmacist, he can get tablets to treat all sorts of infections.
Coming shortly: Family life on the overseas posting in 1951.
Thanks for the kind words, fellow Pruners, there’s more to come ...