Page 185 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

I was soon appointed 3rd mate on Cannanore, a vessel similar to Comorin
and Salsette, and drove to London in the MGA (it had reliable periods, but as the
uncertainties occurred without warning, the very uncertainty of the uncertainties
was singularly nerve-wracking). I had, however, received notice from Susan that
she was enrolled in a photography course in Ilford, a scruffy London suburb,
but close to the Royal Docks, and I thought that I might give her a ride up to
Somerleyton/Oulton Broad, visit her home, and again collect some automobile
wisdom from Uncle Jack.

I was quite surprised when I arrived in Waveney and entered Susan’s house.
Far from a small dwelling, I found it to be a converted guest house or small hotel
surrounded by several acres of lovely green sward, the ‘house’ to me being more
of a minor palace than a family home. Susan warned me, however, that her father
(as I have said, quite a formidable man) had just days before recovered from a
bout of malaria, a periodic affliction that left him weak and a bit temperamental.
She told me that during the War he had been a Japanese POW, and in Malaya,
where malaria was endemic, one could barely avoid catching the disease in the
absence of quinine, and of course, his captors had not bothered with such niceties
(on each ship on which I had sailed to the Far East, bowls of anti-malarial pills
were front and centre on the dining tables; even in 1966, one had to be careful).
She told me that when the malarial symptoms recurred it could be difficult to
control him – this I could believe, both she and her mother being quite small
women – but that comment about these episodes, and indeed any reference to the
war, was to be studiously avoided.

Inside, the house was frankly quite perfect, with mainly Asian furniture, and
I was delighted to see a superb stereogram. His taste appeared very middle-of-
the-road (Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Rachmaninov etc.), and, being taken outside,
Susan showed me his cars (apart from the family VW), which comprised a 1932
Invicta and a 1936 Jaguar, both beautiful roadsters in quite perfect condition. She
even showed me the polished chrome engine (the cleaning of which was one of
her jobs!). Naturally, she said, they were in perfect working order; I could only
drool. I left the house after a wonderful afternoon tea, a mite envious.

Back in Somerleyton, I had a discussion with Jack about the car, and my sense
of balance was somewhat restored. He declared that he felt that I had done the
right thing, despite the probable consequences. As a young man (Mother said
that he had been quite the young buck) he had lusted after a sports car. Although
he had always worked on the Lordly estate and had job security, he had never
had ‘quite enough money’ to indulge in a sports-car; His Lordship did not pay
his ‘retainers’ very well, but accommodation was tied to the estate and a pension,
though feeble, was attached to employment; it was an almost feudal existence.
As time progressed, however, his savings had increased, but for long not to the
extent that enabled him to afford such a car. But when he could manage it, he
felt that he would look ridiculous in an MG, besides which, he married the local

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