- Vol. 05
The bath used to hang on the wall in the scullery. Not our scullery. His scullery. We borrowed it from Mr Neil who rented us the rooms at the front of his house. One down, one up. My mother would knock on his door and he would lift it down for her. But she had to carry it to our living room. It was heavy, made of zinc, she said. It took a lot of water which had to be carried from the outside tap and then heated on our gas ring. It took a lot of hot water and had to be filled and emptied with a jug. Sometimes it was just too much work for her and she washed me in a bowl as I sat on her fat lap. It was snuggly I preferred it really.