The family home was in Canterbury Terrace, Kilburn, London. The terrace consisted of large blocks of flats three stories high. William had purchased No.13 as a leasehold property and Grandfather, Thomas Robert, (who was living at No.16 when his third child, my father Ernest William, was born in 1901) was born there on the 18th August 1866. And it was here on the 19th October 1919 that William passed away.

William left the property to Great Aunt Nell who was affectionately called 'Polly', but only behind her back.

I met Great Aunt Nell once when I was about six or seven, but once met never forgotten.

The family was visiting Dad's older sister, Aunt Kit, who was living in Bravington Road, Paddington. These trips from Gravesend, Kent about twice a year were always exciting for me as a little lad. The train to London, then the tube on the Bakerloo Line to Edgeware Road and finally the trolley bus ride from Paddington Green down the Harrow Road. I remember the occasion as if it were only yesterday.

We were all in the top floor flat at 56 Bravington Road where the grown ups were busy talking. Meanwhile, I am getting a little bored with no garden to go out and play in.

"Here comes Polly," said one of the adults, and, like a shot, I was down the stairs and off up the road to meet my Great Maiden Aunt.

The lady coming down the road can best be described as like Grandma, in a well-known cartoon family. She was, or seemed to little me, to be a big lady wearing a dress that almost reached the ground. My eldest brother, Edward Thomas, also remembers her as a wellbuilt person.

As I reached her I turned and walked alongside of her, "Hello Aunt Polly" I said, but she just kept walking obviously unaware of my presence. I later discovered that she was as deaf as a post (lucky me).

Aunt Nell joined the family circle and out came her knitting. She may have been deaf but she did not seem to miss anything as she knitted and lip-read her way through the afternoon.

Being a Relf, she was tough, and it took more than a German V2 to end her days. It was towards the end of WW2 that a V2 came down on Canterbury Terrace. I don't know what the casualty figures were, but where was 'Polly'? She was blown out of the window and the rescue services found her in the rubble in the garden. She was no doubt, 'shaken but not stirred' to coin a well- known phrase. She was a tough old lady to be sure.

Peter Robert Relf, #090

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Page last revised April 2004.