Rex Stott
I was born and brought up in Birstall, a small mill village halfway between Leeds and Huddersfield.
I lived in a two up two down terraced house. It had stone floors and an outside toilet.
One day my cousin Jack turned up. Jack was a big lad for his age. He was 13. I was 5.
“What shall we play at?” he asked.
I shrugged my little shoulders.
“What do you like playing with?” he asked.
I told him I liked playing with my teddy.
He said “Go and get teddy.”
I did.
He immediately pushed teddy headfirst down a drain.
“What shall we do now?” he asked.
I shrugged my little shoulders.
I know what he said.
“You stand over there against that wall and I’ll throw bricks at you.”
So that’s what we did. I was pretty nippy on my little feet and managed to avoid all the bricks. Once he’d run out of bricks to throw he went home.
As he left, I looked back down the yard. I could clearly see teddy’s little legs sticking out from the drain.