When we moved to Hoar Cross Hall in 1970 the organ in the private chapel wasn’t working as the house had been empty for 20 years. It was such a shame as it had been designed by George Bodley, the famous organ maker of the 19th century. The chapel itself had been added about 25 years after the house was built at the staggering cost of just under £1000! When one of the visitors to the house said he could fix the organ, my dad readily agreed. This chap really loved organs and volunteered his services free of charge just for the love of mending this musical work of art; my dad was over the moon! Alas, after removing all the pipes and laying them out in the basement, he found that he couldn’t carry on with the renovations and we never saw him again!

The Bodley organ

 

Enter Kev, my then boyfriend, who saw the organ in pieces and offered to try and fix it - we spent many an hour in the chapel and basement trying to work out which pipe went where and how to make it play again. But it was quite complicated and it was an ongoing project for some time – still, it kept us busy!

My parents' divorce was getting quite bad by now and I had to accompany my dad to the solicitors on more than one occasion, mainly for moral support but also to back up what was happening in the house between my parents as I witnessed quite a lot of arguments and fights. The solicitor explained to my dad that his antique collection would be classed as ‘chattels’ in the marriage and my mum would be entitled to half of it. My dad went berserk as usual and vowed that she wouldn’t have any of his antiques as they were his means of earning money and not part of the domestic furniture. However, as he was classed as self employed, his collection was deemed part of the family belongings. The Mediaeval Banquets business was now in my mum’s name as a limited company and she ran them herself, separate from my dad. My dad still got the rent money from the apartments and the takings from the house when it was open to the public, and of course, buying and selling his antiques. But his earnings weren’t anywhere near what my mum earned from the banquets and he felt he’d been cheated by her.

Dad wearing a suit of armour

 

 When we got back home from the solicitors he hatched a plan. He would swap all the paintings and suits of armour for reproduction versions so he could sell the real ones on and still make money, whilst my mum wouldn’t realise what was happening as she would see that everything was still in it’s place! This was now war! My dad was friendly with a chap from Coventry who was an armourer. This was still a trade back in the day and I believe he did his training in the Tower of London - there are still modern armourers today who work for the military or the Police and look after all the weapons. My dad asked him to make reproduction pieces of armour and helmets so he could swap them with the real thing. The plan was that he would swap things over when my mum had gone out but as there were always banquet staff wandering around the house, that wasn’t possible. However, we came up with a cunning plan! As we were always coming home in the early hours from parties, it seemed a good idea for us to swap the armour over in the dead of night whilst everyone else was in bed. This was actually quite scary and it was a good job we had lots of dutch courage inside of us!

Gradually over the next year or two we managed to swap most of the armour over and also exchanged the better paintings for reproduction versions; we took the original antiques to Kev’s parents’ house and kept them in their attic until my dad could sell them. My dad managed to sneak out other smaller items too but as there was so much stuff in Kev’s attic he forgot what he’d taken; a few years after the divorce was over Kev’s dad found a pair of duelling pistols in a lovely wooden box still up there under a pile of Christmas decorations! Whilst his friend was making the reproduction pieces, my dad asked him to make a small suit of armour to keep on the mantelpiece – and this is still on my mantelpiece today, which is a nice little keepsake of what was.

The miniature suit of armour

 

 Because my mum was running the banquets now, my dad asked Kev if there was anything we could do to sabotage them. He had various ideas but one of them was to tamper with the electrics so that the power would keep going off all night. The meter box was in the cupboard off the entrance hall which could also be accessed through the back from the spiral staircase. We sneaked into it from the staircase when no-one was looking and kept switching the power on and off, giggling like a couple of school-kids. We didn’t hang around though as my mum soon came charging down the Long Gallery to the cupboard to see what was going on!

Another problem at the Hall was rats! We had them coming into the house during the winter and I would often walk into the kitchen and see one eating out of the cat’s food bowl. They would squeeze themselves up through the holes where the water pipes were, even though the rats were huge. This gave my dad another idea – he moved all the food waste outside near the kitchen door used by the banquet staff and eventually there were rats living in the rubbish heap. He then reported my mum to the local environmental health team saying her rubbish was attracting rats!

Every time my dad did something, my mum retaliated and vise versa – she would often call the Police to blame us for something or other. We were caught in the middle as we were trying to help my dad but also trying to keep in my mum’s good books, as she still wasn’t very keen on me seeing Kev – however, my relationship with my mum slowly deteriorated as time went on and we got up to more tricks on behalf of my dad.

Kev had trained to be an Electronics Engineer and because of this my dad asked him to try and ‘tap’ the phone so he could listen in on my mum’s phone conversations – that way he could be one step ahead of her if she decided to do something against him! Kev managed to build an electronic device which was wired into the phone connection (and hidden in an old biscuit tin) and by doing that my dad could listen in on my mum’s conversations. He also hid a microphone in the kitchen; this was where all the banquet staff went for coffee and cake after the banquets were finished for the evening – now he could listen to all the post banquet gossip and hear what my mum was getting up to!

Percy the parrot

 

The final act of sabotage came unexpectedly one night. Fortunately my dad had removed all the silver armour from the Ballroom as people were always trying to get it off the walls and try it on! These lovely polished breastplates were all safely in his room out of sight of my mum when Percy the parrot decided to make his dash for freedom. We would often leave the cage door open so he could walk about on top of the cage and sometimes he would fly around the lounge but on this occasion someone had left the lounge door open for too long and he flew out and down the Long Gallery then into the Ballroom where a banquet was in full swing! The noise and music must have scared the life out of him as he flew round and round the huge banqueting hall squawking and panicking about how to get out. People were screaming and pointing as Percy dive bombed over the tables splattering the guests with more than they’d bargained for! My mum was furious as she now had a huge dry cleaning bill to pay but I’ve never seen my dad laugh so much in his life! We eventually managed to catch Percy but it was worth all the fuss just to see my dad in a good mood for once! Percy had won the day!

 

Don’t miss next week’s instalment:    'The graveyard shift!'

 

If you would like to follow my story from the beginning, please click here and feel free to share with your friends.

Follow me around my childhood home in my 'Tour of the Hall' – click here to view and subscribe to my YouTube channel.

 
OUT NOW!!!  'My Dad Bought a Mansion' is out in book form on Amazon - all my memoirs packed with lots of photographs from the times.  Go check it out here and let me know what you think!




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Hallowe'en Hauntings #100

| 29th October 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

Hallowe'en Hauntings  #100

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Hoar Cross Hall meets Downton Abbey #99

| 24th September 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

Hoar Cross Hall meets Downton Abbey  #99

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Skools out for Summer #98

| 19th August 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

Skools out for Summer  #98

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Anyone for Tennis? #96

| 25th June 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

Anyone for Tennis?  #96

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My Dad bought a Mansion

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