My earliest memories of Rose go back to when I was three and living in Cheshunt. She worked with my father Ken Hall who in 1961 was appointed General Manager of  the rose nursery Arthur Stevens Limited. At the nursery she looked after the Mess Room facilities, Eric Stevens' chickens and vegetable garden amongst other odd jobs. At the time Wally Cracknell was Labour Manager and Joe Tivey Grower Manager. Occasionally I would help Rose feed the chickens but the best times were when she baby sat me and my sister at 88 Church Lane, always bringing a small white paper bag containing lemon bon bons with her to share. 

My memory of her taking the two of us to London to see the Lord Mayor's Show is quite hazy and of course I was seeing it from the perspective of a child less than seven years old. The vastness of St Paul's Cathedral which we visited after, is much clearer in my mind. It was an absolute delight to repeat this trip with Rose some 40 years later when she arranged coach tickets for the four of us(my husband David and daughter Alice included) to see the parade together once more.  It was a cold day but Rose refused the warm first class view from the coach insisting she watched standing at the road side.  Another clear memory I have is sitting next to her at the cinema, possibly my first ever visit, watching My Fair Lady. She plied me with mint spangles and held my seat steady so that I could sit on it tilted upright in order to get a better view of the screen.

 In 1967 the nursery was demolished in the space of three months (January to March) and relocated to the Isle of Wight. My father and his family followed. Our links with Rose were maintained and she and her friend Olive whose husband Michael,(a Polishman who was  carpenter at Rosedale Nursery)  made several coach trips over to stay with us.

I would visit Rose at Goffs Oak when staying with relatives at St Albans and have kept in touch with phone calls and letters. One of her favourite stories which she repeated frequently, concerned the christening of my brother in 1967.  My maternal grandmother paid her a pound for doing the washing up! 

Many new stories of her varied life came to light when I introduced her to my husband David, 22 years ago. He had spent a lot of time working in London's East End. Tales too numerous to tell here but jellied eels were often mentioned.

Forever in my thoughts

Rosalind Gordon (nee Hall)