The bottom line of this perhaps rather long narrative, is not, as I initially started out as a perhaps green, green badge cab driver, who did not move to the valley of Diesel “Ilford” with the obligatory new cab, wife, mortgage and two kids.

No one more surprised than I at the realisation of what has materialised, a first hand description humiliation and deprivation of the British working class from the 1930's.

This erosion brought about entirely by deliberate policy of successive governments.. and the ten draconian years of Tony Blair who deliberately, for whatever reason, encouraged the influx of irrepresible waves of the World's disenchanted onto these shores, by doing so, creating a powerful, intimidating, devisive weapon against the indigenous labouring masses and a hard core of … crime, poverty and unemployment… the triple iron fist of all governments,plus Enron, 9/11, Afghan conflict over oil, Kosovo all emphatically used by Blair; any outcry was by "politically incorrect racists" as Dr David Kelly was to find to the cost of his life.

The differential between rich and poor, is greater now, than during the Middle Ages.

Ruth Demise - Summer 1968

Definitely too afraid to go through the 'house and home' lark again. The fiasco of 'Desaumarez Street' still hung heavily over me. Tried to tell myself , quite satisfied with Clapton Common, saying, all the same once you went inside and closed the street door. Yet Ruth still pushed, insisting that we start looking at properties. We did not look too far ... just the other side of Stamford Hill ... Craven Park Road ... quite a large house, small back garden, looking on to a brick wall ... £4,000. I was not even tempted, unable to arouse the slightest enthusiasm for the place.

Ruth carefully pointed out that our lease on the flat of £13 per week was more than I would pay for the mortgage. Began to think dubiously about it.

Then, out of the blue, Hackney Borough Council stepped in and bought our house on Clapton Common. They came round ... about for geezers ... unlike the old days ... more like the Mafia, wanted to know the ins and outs of a cats arsehole. Told them very little, for their part, they said I would have to go on paying the short lease until it ran out, then my rent would fall into line…….. £3 a week ...

I took the easy option.


The fissure between Ruth and myself, blew wide open.

I settled down to being a 'Council tenant'.


"Middle aged ... let us gauge, what is achieved, what is believed ... a Council flat ... the occasional chat "
and so on.


Ruth decided she would leave.

Summer 1968
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