Alcatraz Anyone?
And A Baby Blue Safari Suit
Sitting in the Leeds-based central offices of the newsagency group I worked for “back then”, felt a little intimidating. Having recently done the relief cover in Bradford, I wondered what joys awaited my next allocation.
The Ozzy (the Area Manager), called me into his office, gesturing for me to take a seat opposite him, him in his baby blue polyester “safari suit” (quite a thing around that time) and his shock of ginger hair looking very smug with himself. His smugness made me feel uneasy, to be honest, but hey, another day another dollar, eh?
And yes, I DID have one at one point!
“So, how was Bradford?” he chirped a bit of small talk before something devastating no doubt.
“Yeh, fine…an experience…good to be back near home turf again”, I responded.
“Aaah…on that…” his grin nearly knocked the freckles from his cheeks.
I could feel the ground beginning to open up. This ain’t going to be good!
“Do you know the Bransholme Estate?”
“Errm yes, mostly from its reputation rather than having been there.”
“Well, the size of the Shopping Centre there, “Northpoint”, has made it possible for us to have 2 newsagent outlets at that location. One at either end of the Centre. They are doing really well, pretty busy places.” He’s painting a picture but I can’t quite get it yet.
He continued…
“There is a vacancy for a permanent shop manager at one of them, it’ll mean a few extra quid in your pay packet also and the chance of getting some holiday days off here and there. What are your thoughts?”
The look on his face felt like he was going to reach across the desk grab me by the throat and wrestle the “yes” word out of me.
“Sounds ok, well great actually if it’s more money and less dotting about different shops.”
“Hmmm…well…”
(here we go again eh?)
“The shop at the other end is run by a guy called Pete, ex-police, nice guy. So, when I mention holiday possibilities…when he needs holidays, you will cover his shop and vice versa. You both have a senior salesperson in place who can stand in and liaise with you when you cover.”
The reputation of Bransholme Estate wasn’t great, even from the early days of its construction. But, the lure of more shekels in my pocket and more stability outweighed any concerns.
My girlfriend, my soon-to-be wife, had been looking at different housing options. Initially, we wanted to get into the council renting system whilst we banked as much as we could towards mortgage deposits and whilst work would still be in cycling distance for me, perhaps finding the “right” rental, just as a stop-gap, would work for us.
Council renting is based on a points-of-need scale and obviously a young couple are in the lowest pecking order. So, our best shot was a maisonette , these are/were an unusual build, flats of sorts but staged on 3 levels.
When you’re young and carefree, nothing is a real challenge, is it?
It turns out that council estates such as Bransholme were built as a quick housing relief for the fluctuation of residents in Hull who had their homes earmarked for slum clearance…a temporary build…hmmm.
We soon found the place to be super cold when it was cold and horribly sweaty when the sun deemed it would shine. The glazing was similar to what you may find shielding your shower spray from hitting your bathroom floor…basic.
The heating was via some sort of centralised, noisy and expensive-to-run system.
And…well, the Maisonettes had both the reputation we knew of proven on many occasions to us and a special name…
ALCATRAZ!
Nice, eh…fairly apt though.
As for the work, again, the system is pretty much the same in any of the company newsagents. The shop I ran, located adjacent to the main influx of customers to the “Northpoint Shopping Centre”, it was pretty busy…real busy…all day and well into the evening.
Evenings in the shop could be harsh, a constant stream of wannabe shoplifters, tramps and drunks rolling across from the “Fordyke Pub” (have to say, this was a bit of a saving grace to the area as I could indulge in the odd lunch hour or a couple of hours once I had locked up for the day). “Fordyke” reminded me a little of the “Rayners” Pub I frequented when I had the gig on Hessle Road.
It wasn’t the style of the place that had that level of similarity, this was a fairly new build, and it had more to do with the people. That same community mentality rang through the place, everyone knew everyone and they eyed strangers with much suspicion (yup in the early days I was the spotball for that lol).
There was a great deal of black market trading going on and even the “What is it you need? I can get you it for a price” option haha.
Serving the locals with their ciggies and daily rag, clearly aided my acceptance into their ecosystem.
Things settled down, for a while, my girlfriend and I managed to bring together the funds for a mortgage/house deposit and bought a nice house on the very outskirts of Bransholme, a private housing estate, Sutton Park. This was close enough for work but far enough away from the main threats of living in Alcatraz.
And then…the call came.
A definite wrinkle in the matrix was about to unfold…
Until Next Time
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The place looks so grim. 🥺