Langley Vale Remembered

What better place could a child wish for than Langley Vale as their home? This may not be true these days when the village is so changed, but along with some friends, I am in contact with, it is still remembered as ideal. The summers seemed to be hot, and the winters freezing! The snow was always a delight; even falling into drifts was fun! I was christened at St. Stephen's, in the old, green metal church, as part of a mass service where a few children had the same godparents. My godmother was a Mrs. Cornock from Grosvenor Road; I remember her well but don't know who stood in as godfather.

The war was over although there were many Nissan huts still in gardens, each a reminder in itself. To me as a child, the only obvious part of the village clearly a reminder of the war for everyone was the siren at the end of Grosvenor Road. The siren was occasionally heard and Mum said they were just testing it. I am not too sure about that as one time, just after the siren blew, police were all over the woods at the top of the road. So many different stories abounded about why they were there. One was an escaped prisoner, another that it was a patient - I never really knew.

I first attended the Langley Vale School in Grosvenor Road. I remember well the old desks, with inkwells, all marked, everything seemed old, but usable. I was told my writing was so bad I would have to learn to write again - on special paper. This I quite enjoyed. I don't think I was meant to enjoy it but I did although my writing did not improve at all. The school seemed to think it would be a good idea to have a garden for the children to learn about plants. This bored me silly, as did nature walks. The children already knew the names of the trees and grasses, as they came from families where the war had taught them the necessity of growing food, so why take a whole class out on the Downs was my way of thinking. If I could get away with it I would slope off to my grandmother's house next door. I had to make sure I didn't get home before the time my mother expected me. This was a chancy thing to do, I might walk into my grandmother's and find my mother visiting her, and then sparks would fly!

The police houses built in Beaconsfield Road brought more children to the area, and I am still in touch with a friend (Sheila Leonard) who I first met when these houses were occupied about 1952. On her last visit we reminisced as usual and it was clear we both loved living at Langley Vale. These new houses also brought to the village the Burns, and Clark families plus others I don't remember.

The Headmistress, whose name I have forgotten, also ran the Girl Guides for the village. Sheila and I both joined. I cannot say I enjoyed being in the Guides at all. On summer evenings young teenagers often met at the Warren at the top of Beaconsfield Road, there was a house there occupied by a Mrs. Wiltshire. We used to just sit and talk and as I remember those times were very happy. From the Warren it was an easy walk across Six Mile Hill, to the path that would lead to Mr Lever's cottage (in the farm) and Langley Vale Road, from there the circle would be completed up Beaconsfield Road.

I had family in each of the roads from the Downs, but not Harding Road. Some new houses had been built although many areas without houses existed so I could walk from Beaconsfield Road, through Grosvenor Road and up to Rosebery Road, on what would now be peoples' gardens. There was a bit of a green from Mr. Miller's shop to Harding Road, where often a donkey would be tethered.

The 419 bus was our link to Epsom, miss that bus and it was a walk over the Downs to catch the 406.

The best week of the year for me was Derby week - off school, the fun of Show-Out Sunday and the sideshows which were so plentiful. Prince Monolulu appeared every year at the Derby chanting in front of the Downs Hotel 'I gotta horse'. He was always colourful and I seem to remember feathers in a band around his head.

Every morning I heard the sound of horses going out for their first run, in all kinds of weather except for snow. Two of the Dillon horse trainers lived in Beaconsfield Road; Jack Dillon lived almost opposite another trainer called 'Derby' Dillon and his stable. 'Derby' Dillon had a distinctive gravely voice which could be heard quite a way from the stables. Further up the road I can remember Peter Thrale and his family.

There are many names I have forgotten but I do remember Janet Luck, Sheila Matthews, the King girls, the Field family, also Hazel Harman, the Williams, Ansell and Etherington families; not forgetting my related families, Penfold, Downer, Cannon, and Wyatt.

I shall always have fond memories of Langley Vale.

Text courtesy of Kathleen Penfold © 2008

Reproduced courtesy of Francis Frith.
Epsom, from Langley Bottom 1927

I moved to Langley Vale in 1952. Before this we lived just outside Croydon. My dad was a police sergeant at Epsom police station and we were given a house in Beaconsfield Road. My first view of the village was walking from the bus stop in Grosvenor Road to our new house. I was excited by the fact that there was a proper bathroom, no more tin baths and Mum must have appreciated having a boiler which gave hot water when required. There were several semi-detached houses and our neighbours were the Meadows and the Robinsons. I don't think that all the neighbours were stationed at Epsom and remember Dad being thought of as the village bobby. Another neighbour, Mr Clarke, was a walker and anyone living there at the time will remember his training. Behind the houses were stables and a large paddock. These were used by mounted police during race meetings. The paddock was full of cowslips in the spring, still a favourite of mine, and blackberries in autumn. One of the things I loved about the village was the horses. There were several stables in the village and you would see strings of them going off to the gallops twice a day.

I don't suppose it happens now but schools must have been closed at least for the Derby because I remember going up with my mum to watch. There were always men there willing to tell you the winner, for a price! The Tic-Tac men fascinated me and although I could not understand their signal, the bookies must have. (Click here for the BBC guide to Tic Tac) It wasn't the races that were the main attraction for us children but the fair. There were rides, stalls that you could win a goldfish on, gypsies who would read your palm and vans that held auctions. The one I remember had china that one man would balance and throw up in the air to attract more people to start bidding.

I didn't spend long at the village school as I went to grammar school at the start of the academic year, but I did make some good friends one of which I'm still in touch with, Kate Penfold, as she was then. I loved to spend time on the Downs looking for wild flowers and grasses, probably because they were all new to me, and always felt safe, but we all did then. I was quite a tomboy and my favourite tree was a huge beech that was opposite the cafe that was either at the top of Grosvenor Rd or Rosebery Rd.

It seemed that everyone knew everyone else, which as a teenager I didn't appreciate as it seemed that everyone reported what I did to my dad and I never did anything too silly. You didn't dare! Today, however, I could wish that all neighbourhoods had that sort of caring. I spent less than ten years in Langley Vale but still when people ask me where I came from I say it was there.