All a bit of a wind-up at Busbys'

As a child I had been taken there to see Father Christmas. The grotto was a magical place back in those days.

One reason was its location and size, being situated in the service corridor that ran the full length of the store that housed staff rest rooms and storerooms. Most of the corridor was used for the grotto, so it was quite extensive.

We have become accustomed to piped music in today’s shops and stores, but back then it was provided by Disc Music Boxes (the discs were more than 2ft in diameter), and then only at Christmas time.

These were positioned around the store as well as in the grotto, and during the rest of the year they were stored in the gents’ cloakroom together with the stuffed reindeer.

Being 15 years old and not long out of school, I was the usual bumptious youth who had still to learn the facts of life. When I saw these boxes, natural curiosity took over as to how they worked.

The older men encouraged my curiosity and with little encouragement I managed to open one (the locks on them were old and a bit of wire solved the problem). I hasten to add, this was not the start of a life of crime.

I got the thing to play and left it going while I went off to my department. A supervisor was quickly despatched to turn it off.

A few weeks later, after more egging-on from the adults, I opened them all, wound them up and started them playing. They would play for several hours on a winding. There were around a dozen and this time I locked them all after I started them and made myself scarce.

Well one playing on its own was not much of a problem, but 12 was. The sound of them (all playing different tunes) quickly penetrated the store. A supervisor was soon on the scene. But they were locked. Where were the keys?

As with any large organisation that has a seasonal requirement for equipment, the keys were kept in a large box, along with several hundred others. It took around two hours before they were able to find them and put them to use in calming the cacophony.

Questions were asked of course, but all the people who had encouraged me did at least deny any knowledge.

I was the chief suspect, they knew it was me, but with no proof I was just advised not to do it again. But they also removed all the discs – just in case!

Frank Healy, Huddersfield

Thank you for the memories of Busbys’ (T&A, December 4). I too have so many memories of that wonderful store that occasionally flit through my mind. One particularly vivid one was when we were walking down the stairs there in 1954. My husband was on my right and I was carrying in my arms my one-year-old daughter, who was looking over my left shoulder.

Suddenly we heard a voice shouting, “Stop! Will you please stop?” Thinking it wasn’t anything to do with us, we ignored it. It was repeated more urgently so we turned round to find an assistant chasing after us to say “Your baby has just stolen one of our rag dolls”, and point to a large display on one of the counters.

Sure enough, Jane was happily clutching the evidence. My small daughter must have been Busbys’ youngest shoplifter!

My husband immediately said, “Well, we had better buy it then.” I think it was about 2s 6d. That was the best half-crown he ever spent, because Rag Doll (we never gave her a name) and Jane became inseparable. There were a few tears when she was misplaced and this old house was turned upside down until they were reunited.

Sadly Rag Doll is now in my “treasure drawer”: no hair, features almost gone, a very, very Rag Doll. Would I part with it? Never!

Alice Norton, Heaton l One memory I have of Busbys’, I’m sure older readers will also remember.

In the years just following the Second World War, the first-floor restaurant had an elderly white-haired gentleman wearing evening dress (coat tails). He used to greet all the children with open arms and a hug. His charming manner made him extremely popular. He could have been Austrian (perhaps Viennese). Anyone else remember him?

Derek Mozley, Shipley