Despite the confusion there was always a sense of pride when it came to those living in the old terraced houses of East London, with doorsteps regularly cleaned, even painted bright red at times, and glittering brass door knockers highly polished thanks to a thing called Dura-Glit, a strange webbing that came in a tin and had to be used wearing rubber gloves before wiping away with a yellow duster that turned black as a result.
Back in the day, front doors of houses were always left open, something friendly people in The East End were proud of, although it explains why our place was burgled three times in a week. Mum should have learnt a lesson from granddad who left his door open and died. Mind you, he did live in a lighthouse so it was his own fault.
Our not-so-houseproud next-door neighbours were once broken into and the burglars tidied their place up and left an apology note.
To continue reading this chapter click on this absolutely stunning picture I painted not unlike Degas.
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