My Saturday Job at a Pub c1975

As well as doing my beloved paper round, I worked briefly at a pub called the Good Companions on Manchester Road,Warrington. Today the pub, after going through several refits and name changes is called Chevy’s. But in 1975 it had recently changed its name from the Cemetery Hotel to The Good Companions.

The building is large and spacious and had a public bar which was only frequented by men. Other features included an “out-door” or off-license; there was a concert room that had a couple of snooker tables and of course the main lounge of the pub. There was a large bar which was on the right as you came in through the rear door after traversing the “passage”, as most people used the rear door for access. At one time what is now a car park was once a bowling green but as with so many pubs in Warrington in the 1970s, the Bowling Green’s made way for car parks.

When I was 15, my Grandad Danny worked at the pub as a cleaner and it was my Grandad who enquired with the manager Walter, whether there were any holiday or weekend jobs available for me. At the time I was quite oblivious to this enquiry so when my mum told me if I wanted a job at the pub I had to go down at 10 O clock on Saturday morning and ask for the landlord Walter, which came as a bit of a shock. Again, my lack of confidence and shyness made me dread the encounter. However, when Saturday came I was surprising relaxed? I walked to my interview from my home in Fearnhead to the Goodies as it was affectionately known.

When I arrived at the pub I made my way to the bar but there was nobody about, the place appeared empty. I was too nervous to shout “shop” or use any such words to attract attention, so I waited until somebody appeared. Eventually, after what seemed like a century a cleaner appeared form behind the bar just like the shop keeper in Mr. Ben. The cleaner was wearing a blue cleaner’s apron; she had a mop in her right hand and bucket in her left and was smoking a cigarette that was protruding from her mouth at an angle of about 30 degrees. She said “can I help you luv”, I explained that I had come to see Walter about a job; I had no idea what job I was there to see him about. The cleaner shouted in a very clear and loud voice, WALTERRRRR. It was obvious to me that the cleaner had no such problems with shyness as I had. A short time later Walter appeared and I introduced myself. Walter was a short stocky man probably in his late 40s with a very gravelly voice and I had some difficulty understanding him, but I got the gist of what he was saying. He told me the nature of the job and I was quite relieved that I wasn’t going to work behind a bar as I naively thought I might be.
The job I was to do was bottling up, which as Walter explained meant going into the cellar and bringing up bottles of beer in crates to the bar and stocking the bar up before opening time. He also explained that I would be working with Henry and David Harding, but David was on holiday for two weeks so it would just be me and Henry. He asked could I start on Monday morning and the pay would be £5 a day for a three hour’s work, which I thought was great.

After speaking to Walter for a few minutes the butterflies disappeared and I became more relaxed. After my brief interview, I left the pub feeling pretty pleased with myself and looking forward to starting my new job the following Monday.

On Monday morning I arrived just before 9 O clock to start my new job. Again there was nobody about so I waited for the cleaner to “pop up” like she did on our first meeting. I was surprised when she didn’t but a tall slim man appeared, in his late 40s, dressed in jeans and a cheque shirt and sported long side burns with longish greasy hair swept back. I thought he was a cowboy.
He looked at me muttered something in my direction and proceeded to go to the jukebox putting on Glen Campbell’s Rhinestone Cowboy, confirming my suspicions that he was actually a real cowboy. This was my first introduction to my work colleague Henry.

I grew to like Henry he was a real character and later learnt he wasn’t a real cowboy at all but a barman which I found rather disappointing. Nevertheless, we worked well together and became friends. Henry explained that my job was to check behind the bar and see which bottles needed replacing so that by opening time the bar would be fully stocked up. This meant going down some very steep steps into the cellar and bringing up the appropriate crates filled with the bottles of beer that had to replace the ones that were used during the previous evening. I carried one crate up at a time and filled the shelves behind the bar with the bottles, while Henry seemed to potter around in the cellar all morning trying to look busy. Every time I went down into the cellar he would start touching the numerous pipes pretending to be doing something but all he seemed to do was smoke. After about an hour and a half of this it was time for a tea break.

At the tea break I met the other people who worked at the pub in the morning. These included three cleaners; one was called Nancy, who I had already met prior to my interview, she was the one who popped up like the shop keeper in Mr Ben. Nancy had a great sense of humour, and came out with some very funny one liners and she smoked more cigarettes than Henry, then there was Mrs. Robb who was a nice old lady and another lady cleaner who I never Knew by name, in fact she never spoke, I wouldn’t describe her as a quite lady, more silent and of course there was Henry who at break time would always go to the jukebox and put Rhinestone Cowboy on, about 8 times, it must have cost him a small fortune to come to work. After the tea break we all departed and resumed our duties, The cleaners with their mop and buckets and Henry would return to the cellar and fondle the pipes.

I really grew to enjoy the job everybody got on well with each other and Walter and his wife Connie were lovely. One day Walter came down and muttered something to me which I coyly had to ask him to repeat several times because I could never understand a word he said. He asked me to get a crate of Guinness from cellar and put it into the boot of his car which was a Volvo parked in the car park. When I got to his car with the crate Walter was waiting for me with his boot lid up, so I carefully placed the crate of Guinness into the boot of his car. He muttered a thank you in his own language and gave me a 50p piece for my efforts which I thought was fantastic because it was a lot of money for a 14 year old boy to have and his kindness is something that I will never forget.

After working at the Goodies for about 2 weeks David Harding returned from his holidays. He was a very tall thin lad of about 17 years of age who I thought was ancient and all grown up. (if David was ancient I would hate to think what Walter and Henry were ), anyway, I got the impression that on him seeing me doing HIS job, that I was intruding on his territory and he didn’t speak much to me at first. He saw that I was carrying one crate up those steep steps so he decided to show me how strong he was by carrying two crates up the very steep steps up to the bar. When I saw this, not wishing to be out done, I decided also to carry two crates up to the bar, which I found surprisingly less difficult that I had perceived. On seeing this David then attempted to carry three full crates of beer up to the bar but when he tried to lift them up he discovered that he couldn’t and sort of collapsed in a heap, puffing and panting and seemed very short of breath, I thought he was having some kind of fit.

I then decided to try and carry three crates up the steep steps; I managed to get them off the floor and half way up the steps and then collapsed in a heap also. Without a word passing between David and myself, we appeared to mutually agree to carrying two crates and forget this macho competitiveness. Eventually David and I grew to be friends and we worked well together, but there were dark clouds on the horizon.

Several weeks passed and we were all told that Walter and Connie were leaving the Goodies to take on a pub in Rossall just outside Fleetwood called the Rossall Tavern. It all came as a bit of a shock because we held Walter and Connie in the highest esteem. Eventually Walter left to go to his new pub and he was replaced by a new landlord, from Blackpool called John Heaton. When he arrived we all agreed he was a marvellous man, he was very friendly, kind, jolly and most of all he actually brewed up for us at brew time. What a marvellous man he was. After about two weeks of John being there he sacked David and I, saying he had a son who could do our jobs. So we had become surplus to requirement and I was a bit upset at first and I think David was beside himself and never quite got over it. So that was the end of that little job.