Golden Memories: Coal Fires

In our class at school, very few kids could boast a telephone, fitted carpets, or central heating in their home Only one or two had parents with cars, and foreign holidays were the stuff of science fiction.

Coal fires were the norm, and what a three ring circus it was. Some people would 'bank up' their fires to last overnight, but my divorced mum thought this expensive and dangerous. So every morning the ritual began.

Firstly, the grate was raked and the ash collected. My job was to carry the tray to our zinc bin outside, and when the wind blew I would receive half the ash back on my clothes - returning to the house looking like Marley's ghost; cold, grey and not really there.

By then, my mum had assembled the crumpled newspaper, sticks and coal for lighting. It was an optimistic moment which usually died with black newsprint and stone dead anthracite. We'd try again with the aid of sugar, a trick which delighted the observer with two seconds of fireworks, but nearly always the same dull outcome.

So inevitably, the last resort was used. This involved balancing a shovel on top of the fender and surrounding it with a page or two from the Daily Mirror. The exact science was a mystery to me, yet the fire drew and the coal began to smoke and crackle. Unfortunately, the Daily Mirror usually caught fire too, and frantic foot stamping in the hearth would ensue, rather similar to the clog dancing of farmers at harvest time.

The entertainment was not complete, however, as our poor quality fuel would proceed to spit flaming embers onto the carpet. The pattern had been selected (in part) to disguise the expected scars from these regular bursts of shrapnel.

Every so often the chimney sweep would come with black clothes and matching face, but one day my mum surprised me by booking the new vacuum sweep.

He arrived in a garishly painted yellow and black van and the neighbours all came out to watch him unload. It was a time of rag and bone men, fish carts followed by cats and door-to-door brush salesmen.

Computers were a far off land.