28th May 2003.

Valerie,

If they gave out prizes for a website (perhaps they do?) - you should get the first prize Gold Medal.  Such interesting items every time I browse!

I used to live at Kingswood as a young lad from about 1949 until I went off to National Service in 1954.

When we first moved in to Kingswood, my father told me that it was called Kingswood because Charles II hid in a wood nearby during his escape.  My father (dead now) did not tell me how he got hold of the story.

At the time that we lived there, we had the 'House' side.  The 'Farm' side was occupied by a family called Wills.  There was Mr and Mrs Wills and their three offspring Harley, June and Josephine. 

Mr Wills was the tenant farmer there, and he also ran Tolmare farm at the top of the Long Furlong.  I used to 'work' there in the school holidays, and Harley taught me how to drive a tractor.  The Wills family were Plymouth Brethren I believe, and were very strict.  Harley liked to smoke but could only do so out of doors.  One of his sisters would bring tobacco and papers up to him in the fields. 

Mrs Wills died, and shortly after that things seem to get more relaxed.  Mr Wills sold his big old Austin car and bought a brand new Hillman, and soon after that he moved out of the farm and into a bungalow. 

My brother Brian and I used to play 'rounders' in the farmyard with the two girls, under the strict eye of their parents.  I think June eventually went off to London as a hotel receptionist, I don't what happened to Harley and Josephine although I did hear that Harley found himself a girl friend.  I do remember that they were very nice people.

Now here's a story that might interest you.  I left the Navy in 1956, and in 1957 joined the Metropolitan Police.

Whilst between these two jobs I met a young lady - Patricia - (now my wife) who sang with the Worthing Operatic Society.  They used to rehearse in a room over a Pub called the Rose and Crown in Worthing.  I used to meet her after rehearsals and we'd catch the last bus home, as she lived in Findon Valley.

We were walking through The Arcade one evening, and heard the sound of smashing glass.  As we came round the bend of the Arcade we saw a man helping himself to the contents of a jewellers window.  He saw us and took off  and I chased and caught him while Pat phoned for the Police. 

Who should arrive but sergeant Jack Griffin, who used to be the village PC at Findon.  Prisoner was put in the van and I was invited to go as well to make a statement. 

On the way back to the Police Station Jack asked what I was doing and I told him I wanted to join the Police.  His advice:

'Go to London, Roger, it's dead men's shoes down here.' 

So, I applied to join the Met's and was accepted, but only after they enquired about a certain incident in the Arcade at Worthing, which only the Sussex Police could have told them about. 

The following year Pat and I married at Findon church, whilst in The Square, a Worthig Gazette placard proclaimed:

Man who foiled bandits weds at Findon.

Several years later, 1965 in fact, I had passed from uniform to CID and my first stint of duty as a probationer CID officer was on Night Duty.  I was told to report to Enfield Police Station at 10pm, which I did and there met a Detective Sergeant Jim Mitchinson, who could be described as 'one of the old brigade'. 

He immediately said —

'We have to go to Hornsey to search a flat.' 

I was pleased, as I lived near to Hornsey and had just travelled right across the Division only to be told I had to go all the way back again.  On our way to the address, Jim told me that two young men had been arrested in Buckinghamshire for burglary and their address had to be searched to see if there was any stolen property there. 

We duly arrived at a street near to Finsbury Park, and went up to the first floor flat which consisted of two rooms.  There we discovered two girls, one sleeping in each room.  Jim and I took the front room, and a colleaque took the back room. 

Almost the first thing that I noticed were two ladies' handbags.  I asked the girl in this room if they were both hers and she said 'Yes'.  Now, both these handbags were full.  I was aware that while my wife had several handbags, only one of them was full at any one time as she tended to transfer all the contents of one bag to another according to which bag was in favour at the time.  So I decided that these handbags should be carefully examined. 

I looked in the one which I had in my hand, and said to the young lady —

'You'd better get dressed, because you are under arrest.' 

A very startled Detective Sergeant thought his young protege had flipped, and called a conference on the landing.  Outside the bedroom door he whispered

'What the hell are you doing?' 

I replied:

'In that handbag is a membership card for a Mrs Hazlegrove for the Findon Village Gardens Club.'  I come from Findon, which is a little village in Sussex, and I know Mrs Hazlegrove, and that girl in there certainly isn't her!' 

It turned out that everything in the flat was stolen from burglaries all round the Home Counties, including Findon.

Out of 20,000 odd Met Police officers only two in the Met at that time came from Findon, and one of them found themselcves in that flat that evening.  How's that for coincidence?
I think that's enough for now.

Roger Moulds

Roger Moulds, Llandrindod Wells,
Powys, Wales.