I think it must have been in early 1956 that I went back to Eldoret with Graham to visit my father. He was desperately lonely and Jock had sent him this book about a marriage bureau in Bond Street, London, by Heather Jenner. He decided to give it a go. He had been seeing quite a few likely ladies in and around the district but for various reasons they were not what he was looking for.  

I was busy knitting booties for Graham. Knitting was not my strong point and I had a dozen laid out on the arm of the sofa. My father just said to keep on going as there wasn’t a pair yet! We had a hilarious time making a file of the profiles sent to him from London and a correspondence struck up. There was Ruth, keen on dogs and country pursuits. Cecile Orde Chabrieux, 6’ tall and living in France and others, whose names and descriptions I’ve forgotten. 

Then of course there was Joan Jameson, a doctor’s widow with three children; Ruth, Michael and Richard. He was quite keen on her but she nearly scotched her chances by sending him a photo of herself, one of those my family will remember, in a little flower pot hat which didn’t suit her round face. However,  it was decided that the time had come for him to bite the bullet and go to France and the UK to meet these ladies in person. I went back to Dar and he flew to the UK. I believe God had his hand on this from the start. On his way to London he was due to land at Nice to meet up with Cecile. However there was heavy fog and so the pilot had to re-route to Marseilles. Dad managed to send a message to Cecile and she replied that she couldn’t get to Marseilles in time, so they never met.

Once in London he was due to meet Joan for a drink. Joan tells the story of sitting at a table with two glasses of sherry waiting for my father to arrive. She saw this man with a bald head entering the restaurant and knew that this was him. He must have recognised her or perhaps they had some particular signal so he came over and sat down. She said she couldn’t help laughing because one arm of his glasses had broken off so he’d kept the glasses in place with a bit of string tied to a blazer button which hung behind his ear. 

They obviously were attracted to each other from that minute because they had a whirlwind romance. Instead of taking it slowly and meeting the other candidates they decided at once that they were right for each other and would get married.  They stayed that night at a hotel and didn’t wait long to fall into bed which was totally against Joan’s religious principles. They shopped for an engagement ring the next day and had to make up a story that would be satisfactory to her three children as to how she had met this man.

Richard was still at Oxford University and Michael and Ruth shared a flat. They decided to go and stay with Joan’s sister Peggy and her husband and they let them into their secret. Everybody else was told a concocted story that sounded as though they had known each other some time – and not just 24 hours. My father was due to take over a yacht to do some sailing and so they got married with the wedding attended by daddy’s elder sister Nelly, her husband Charlie Nicholl, Joan’s three children, her sister Peggy and her husband.

Joan, who had never sailed before, bravely went on her honeymoon on Destina to France. This was characteristic of her – always ready to try anything. Joan adored my father and made him incredibly happy.

Note from Jo Shouldn’t this be several paras back? Joan lived in the family home in  Berkhampstead and ran a Launderette in St. Albans.    

She wrote to me from Eldoret and offered to look after fifteen month old Graham while Jack and I took our enforced leave in the UK. I loathed leaving him but it was better for him than being towed around UK to all the relatives. I had to put him on a plane in Dar, looked after by the stewardess, and he was met at Nairobi airport by Joan and my father. Poor little chap, what an ordeal – but better than being lugged all over the UK. Joan said her heart went out to this little figure walking hand in hand across the tarmac with the stewardess. He didn’t utter a word for the first part of the journey home and wouldn’t use the potty at all and they were quite worried. However, he soon got his tongue back and settled down. I think he had a very happy time with Joan and my father. Dad said he was a rather serious little chap but very brave and stoical. He hardly ever cried and when he fell flat on his face (which was quite often) he would just get up and brush himself off and carry on. My father made him a little barrow and he helped in the garden.

He was heart-breakingly horrid to me when we arrived in Eldoret to pick him up again and hid behind Joan’s skirts. Taking leave in the UK was a ridiculous company rule, very expensive and exhausting. We did have a happy time in Devon with the Bents and it was good for Jack and Jill to meet up. Jack’s parents were living in Arusha at that time although they had been in Dar when we first married.  

Note from Jo; Joan at Buck Palace, interest in all four husbands, children, married into-s, grands, great-grands. Mayoress of Eldoret, meeting QM on her visit. Our visit to Haugh Lane nursing home, Woodbridge and gaff re the Queen 🙂

Joanna had brought her some magazines to read and as we were looking through them we came across a lovely photo of the queen. I remarked how “I would hate to be the queen” (meaning) all the duties she had to undertake.   This seemed to incense Joan immensely and she leaned right over Joanna pushing her against the back of her chair and loudly exclaimed “Don’t be ridiculous Jill, you couldn’t possibly be the Queen!”

Joan – tennis, Lady Bunbury’s house, swimming pool, the North sea swims …