Linda Southgate

My story starts during the Second World War.  My parents, Reginald and Esther Bardrick, lived in South-East London.  They married on 24th December 1939 and my father worked at the Ebonestos factory in New Cross, making parts for Lancaster bombers.  Due to the bombing in London, the factory relocated in 1941/42 to Dobcross and so my parents moved to Uppermill. 

On 22nd May 1943 Valerie Linda Bardrick was born.  Unfortunately Valerie only lived for three weeks and died at their home on Spring Street on 13th June 1943.

After the war, my parents moved back to London and continued their lives.  I was born on 4th January 1955 and until 1983 had always considered myself an only child. 

My mother died suddenly in 1983 and when I was helping to clear some things out, I discovered a piece of paper.  I gently opened it and found the birth certificate for Valerie.  As if that was enough of a surprise, imagine how I felt when I looked at the birth date …… 22nd May – the same day my own daughter was born in 1980.  To say a chill run through me would be an understatement – to this day it still fills me with amazement. 

In shock from this discovery and losing my mum, I hurriedly put the certificate back where I found it. I just couldn’t bring myself to mention it to dad.  All her life, my mother had never mentioned Valerie and I imagined how they must have felt when they got the phone call on the 22nd May to say they had a grand-daughter – there must have been mixed emotions.

Life went on and my dad lived until 1997 and until the day he died, he never mentioned Valerie and neither did I.  I know you are probably shouting “why not” but it just never felt right and I suppose I just couldn’t face putting my father through the pain of re-living those difficult days. (but I now understand why he did his best to wrap me in cotton wool – although as a teenager you don’t appreciate that!)

When dad died in 1997, I went through the papers but never found the birth certificate again.  At that point I did not know how long Valerie had lived so I sent off for a death certificate and that was when I found out she only lived for three weeks, had died of gastro-enteritis and that my parents were living in Uppermill.

For years I have been wondering where Valerie is but it never felt the right time and unfortunately I have left it too late to ask my parents and their brothers and sisters.  My mum’s youngest brother remembers coming to stay in Uppermill in 1944 but he was only 12 at the time and knew nothing about Valerie.  He knew my father had come up to do war work in a factory and from that clue plus the note on Valerie’s death certificate that he was a Bakelite Moulder. I was able work out that he had moved up with Ebonestos.

Hindsight and ‘if only’ are always with me but I can’t undo tha,t so I have pushed on with what I can do and know.  This year Valerie would have been 80, so I decided it was time I found her.  I had no idea where she was buried and mentioned my story to some friends we have in Preston.  They were immediately on the case, looked up nearest churches to Uppermill and got me contact details.   This is where my new found friend Fiona Ward at St. Chad’s comes into the story and I thank her for the help and support she has given. Based on what little information I could give her, Fiona has been able to locate Valerie’s grave.  This in itself has opened more questions. Valerie does not have her own grave and headstone but has been laid to rest in a Hewkin family grave along with four other un-named infants.  At present, I can find no connection with the Hewkin family, but I think I will keep on trying to see if I can find out some more about my parents’ time in Uppermill