The Croydon Writers group has celebrated its 65th anniversary.

On June 16, 37 members and friends gathered to celebrate the milestone and pay homage to the group’s many successes.

Diane Battenberg, the chairwoman, and Jean Bowden, the President, spoke about the history of the club which include publication of a variety of books from novels, technical and reference books, through to plays, radio, articles, poetry and short stories.

Mrs Bowden also announced the winner of the short story competition which was won by a new member Mike Jackson with his essay “My Great Uncle”.

The group welcomes new members and holds meetings on the second Monday of the month in Croydon clocktower library at 7.45pm.

Go to croydonwriters.org.uk for more information.

Mike Jackson's winning entry: "A Great Uncle"

It’s always great when I visit my Uncle Reg, Nan’s younger brother. He has problems, Nan says. There he is, in his armchair, old piece of polished plywood on his lap, bent with years of leaning on it, playing Patience. I wonder if he has a new game of Patience today, or will it be Whist or Rummy? Sometimes we play draughts-he says he’ll show me Chess when I am older. When we play ‘Clock Patience’, we always cheer when we finish it!

Reg is very thin. His long face is grey and drawn, with deep sunken eyes. He always smells of shaving cream, and apparently takes a long time shaving, but never gets a cut. His hands are white, sinewy, with long fingers, and are constantly shaking. His clothes, grey suit, white shirt and dark tie, hang on him as if they were made for someone bigger. He has a stoop and walks with a stick. If he goes out (even in the garden) he wears a smart grey trilby and the grey suit. Sometimes he swaps the jacket for a brown cardigan. Nan and Dodo (her sister) knit his cardigans. He always has a hankie in one hand as he dribbles a lot. His mouth is generally open as if he can’t control it. Nan says it’s a result of his terrible injuries. He smokes Woodbines, and his teeth and fingers are yellow stained. Nan buys him cigarettes, (but I give them to him). He smokes (one of his few pleasures, he says) while we play cards, but I don’t mind. I help him, lighting the matches and emptying his ashtray.

I like Reg a lot. He always has lots of time for me. He is interesting and talkative. You get used to the slur in his speech. He loves my visits , he says.

I only know what Nan and Auntie Dodo (who is really Dorothy) tell me. He was a normal boy. He left school in Battersea and got a job as a delivery boy. Then he joined the Army. Fighting at the Front in the First World War, he was gassed by the German army in France. That’s where his problems started, Nan says. In hospital for some time, I don’t think much could be done for him. Later he suffered more injuries, mainly to his head, when he fell off of a bus. Ever since, as far as I know, Dodo has looked after him.

Nan goes every week to see them, and I go when I can, Sundays, school holidays. Poor Uncle Reg- and I think I have problems. I’m sure there’s more to him than they tell me, but if I ask I’m told I’m too young to understand. I say to them I am 8 now, but it doesn’t wash-they say I shouldn’t ask questions. Well I’ve read books on the gas, and if I know about the horrible times. But on other things the family says nothing-and neither does Reg- its’ as if he doesn’t want to talk about those times, or maybe his poor tormented mind blots them out.

Nan says I can go to Cheam with her again on Sunday. Hooray! If it’s sunny, perhaps Uncle Reg will sit in the garden while I collect some fruit from Dodo’s lovely orchard. We can play cards or draughts, and Dodo will use some of the apples I pick in one of her homemade pies for tea.

Just before we leave, he produces his old shabby tray purse, fumbles inside, and out comes a shiny new half-crown, just for me. Nan always says that’s too much, but he insists. Dodo says he polishes it when he cleans his shiny black boots that stand by his chair.

I always give him a big hug. He’s also taught me how to shake hands properly with a gentleman. After all he is one of the few gentlemen I know. Auntie Dodo gets a kiss with her hug.

I’ll try not to ask questions, but just learn from what Nan and the others say, or what I overhear.

I am looking forward to seeing Uncle Reg on Sunday.