THE CANDLE
FACTORY GIRL by Tania Crosse
Published: 1st March 2018
Publisher: Aria
Pages: 536
Available in Paperback and on Kindle
Blurb
Work at Price's Candle Factory in Battersea is tedious for intelligent, seventeen-year-old Hillie Hardwick, but she knows she is lucky to have a job at all.
Her home life is no better, as she constantly battles with her exacting and bullying father in order to protect her mother and five younger siblings from his abuse.
Her only solace is her loving relationship with the chaotic Parker family and her best friend, Gert Parker.
When matters violently escalate for Hillie, smitten Jack-the-Lad Jimmy Baxter seems her only salvation.
But could this be the biggest mistake of her life, and should she be looking for protection nearer home?
A story that crackles with unease where courage and friendship are the only hope.
Today I am delighted to welcome Tania Crosse, author of The Candle Factory Girl to my blog to share some of her memories of Battersea in London where her novel is set. The Candle Factory Girl is published today by Aria.
Memories of
Battersea
Nowadays, Battersea is considered a
sought-after area of south-west London. Long gone are the nearby industries,
Price’s Candle Factory included, that used to spew smoke into the atmosphere.
The two hundred acres of Battersea Park that produce a haven for peace,
recreation and fresh air, are a stone’s throw away. The back streets are quiet,
yet bustling central London is but a short trip by bus or train, or a longer
walk for the more energetic.
Our house in Banbury Street, now
beautifully renovated, was on the market a few years ago for a huge amount of
money. If my parents had owned it rather than renting the top part of the house,
they would have been well-off indeed.
At the end of the war, because of the
Blitz and then the V1 and V2 rocket attacks in 1944-5, there was a dreadful
housing shortage, particularly before the ‘pre-fab’ building programme got
going. So it was a wonder my parents managed to secure the tenancy of the two
bedrooms on the top floor, and a sitting room and small kitchen on the middle
level. There was no bathroom, and just one toilet for the whole house, down in
the semi-basement.
I believe that the first few houses,
including ours, on that side of the street, belonged at the time to the
brewery. They were considered superior because the original servants’ quarters
in the semi-basements necessitated a flight of stone steps up to the main front
door. In our semi-basement, lived a dear, kindly elderly widow, a retired cook.
She became our beloved Nanny Lloyd, and we spent as much time with her as we
did in our own part of the house. All of which allowed me to describe Jessica’s
home in such detail.
My heroine, Hillie, however, and her
friend, Gert, live on the opposite side of the street. Sadly, this terrace of
modest yet characterful houses built later in the Nineteenth Century was
demolished in the 1970s and replaced with modern flats. Such a pity as all the
similar properties in the adjoining streets have been restored and now offer
popular residences.
Price’s Candle Factory, too, has
gone. Some of the buildings fronting onto York Road now have commercial use,
but between them and the river behind is now residential, so skilfully done
that it is difficult to know which is newbuild and which is factory conversion.
Battersea Park, as much part of our
lives as it is for Hillie, her friends and family, has also undergone changes.
I knew it when the pleasure gardens were there, a prettily landscaped funfair
created for the 1951 Festival of Britain. I remember the tree walk, a wooden
structure leading through the lofty branches above the park. Above all, I
adored the famous Guinness Clock, waiting with such excitement for it to burst
into life every fifteen minutes. I have no recollection of the aviaries and
deer enclosure. I am guessing they were removed when war broke out. The
pleasure gardens, tree walk and Guinness Clock have all gone, too, and the park
is so cosmopolitan that you can hear spoken almost any language you can name.
Clapham Junction also holds strong
memories for me. I often travelled with my mother by bus or train. I remember
waiting on the platform, enthralled as I watched the gigantic steam engines
hiss into the station like fiery dragons. Many of the trains were diesel
driven, but they weren’t the same. Then
there were the ‘banana arches’, warehouses beneath the raised tracks along the
back entrance to the station. Memories still haunt me of walking past on dark,
misty evenings, clutching my mother’s hand. It was so creepy that I shudder at
the thought even now. So I had to bring them into the story, a perfect place
for – well, I won’t tell you. I don’t want to spoil it for when you read the
book!
My own family life was very happy,
and nothing like that of any of the characters in the book. Yet I felt drawn to
set The Candle Factory Girl in the same street. But I will leave you with one
thought. When my parents rented those rooms in Battersea, they barely had a
penny to their names. So how did they own their own home by the time they
retired, and now lie together in a country churchyard in a small Berkshire
village. Perhaps there’s another book in there somewhere...?
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