In 2006, while stretching in bed one day, Barbara happened to touch her right breast. She immediately realised she could not quite feel it. ‘It felt numb, the way your jaw feels after you had a filling at the dentist and the anaesthetic has not quite worn off. You can feel it – but not feel it. But there was no lump, so I wasn’t too worried.’
She waited two months before seeing a doctor. He gave her some painkillers at first, not quite sure what the problem was, then told her he had made a hospital appointment for her at 8.30 on the following Wednesday morning.
Her starting hour at Carr’s was still six in the morning, so she went to work first, then slipped out to the hospital after letting her senior department manager know, telling him she shouldn’t be long. One of the perks of being a manager was she could leave the factory without anyone asking too many questions.
She was still at the hospital at 12.30.
‘How long is this going to take?’ she asked the doctors. ‘I have to be back at work. I can’t hang around.’
She ended up having a biopsy, which was sent off to Newcastle to be examined. Carlisle does not have sufficient equipment for such procedures – in fact, anyone with cancer in Cumbria has the extra stress of a long tiring journey for treatment to either Newcastle or Lancaster.
The result eventually came back. She was told her cancer was Grade 3 and she had to have surgery, a lumpectomy, followed by treatment.
‘I told my manager what was going to happen and that I would be taking some time off. And I told him the reasons why, but I warned him that I didn’t want anyone else in the factory to know. If it gets out, so I told him, I would know it was him. He did keep it secret.
‘I didn’t want to be walking round the factory with people thinking, “there goes Barbara the cancer sufferer” instead of, “there goes Barbara, the section leader”.’
Afterwards she had chemotherapy for eighteen weeks followed by radiotherapy every day for fifteen days.
‘The worst part was losing all my hair. No, now I think about it, really the worst part of all was not being in control. I felt like a failure, feeling like you were in some way letting people down by not being able to do exactly what everyone had previously relied upon you to do. I hated that. I’ve tried always in life to be in control. But sometimes you can’t be.
‘When the doctors gave me the choice of surgery or not, I hated that. They are the doctors. Not us. How can you decide? They have to be in control. But they try to pass the buck, which I can understand.’
After nine months, she was back at work, although still having to have check-ups every three months. ‘I wanted to work, to get back to normal life.’
For the next two years, her job was very much the same, but then by 2008 the factory had to face the problems that the whole country was facing. The economy went into a downturn and the recession was taking hold. Budgets were cut, staff restructured or made redundant, economies had to be made. Staff were paid off, but Barbara was kept on and she found herself being given extra responsibilities and more plants to look after.
‘There were the usual rumours about the factory closing, venture capitalists buying the company to strip all the assets. But you just live with that. We would hear one day that the McVitie factory in Scotland was closing, or the Liverpool one, so you wondered if it was true and if we would be next.
‘I like to think that our loyal workforce was a factor in our continuing survival. Another theory was that our water biscuits can only be made here because of the artesian well under the factory, supplying our water. But that could be a fantasy.
‘I think our situation helped us survive, our strategic position. With United Biscuits having factories in Scotland and Liverpool, we were in quite a good position, halfway between them, and also right on the motorway. But who knows all the reasons why we have somehow managed to continue here in Carlisle in this very old factory for all these long years.’
The special water theory is alas fantasy, though perhaps back in 1837 they did use a local well. Today, and for the last century or so, the factory has used normal tap water. The lack of strikes must have been an element, but the main reason for continuity was the prosaic one – the McVitie’s Carlisle factory, home of Carr’s, home of biscuits, was still running at a profit. Thanks, of course, to the hard work of the workers and of the management.
But the cuts did continue, to save time or money or staff, and more jobs got restructured. ‘There were endless changes – and it all seemed to filter down to us, at management level.’
At the time of the 2005 floods, Barbara was responsible for the smooth running of five plants, custard creams, Bourbon creams, butter puffs, Morning Coffee and fig rolls with approximately 120 workers under her control.
Post-flood, from 2008 to 2009, Barbara was manager of the chocolate room, a cookie plant and a cracker line, and although there were now not as many staff she had to learn a new set of skills as she had not worked in the chocolate room before.
Her salary – not wages any more, once she had become management – was £30,000 a year. Her husband David, still working as a forklift driver, was on £19,000.
She finally decided she had had enough. There were more important things in life than work. It was all becoming too hard, too stressful. It was time for herself. She worked out the optimum time to go, making sure she had reached well over the thirty-year mark, to get the best financial advantage.
In June 2009, aged fifty-five, Barbara retired on roughly half pay, after thirty-two years at Carr’s. Most of that time she had been involved with actually packing the biscuits, having risen from the very bottom as a packer on the line to management, one of the few female workers in 172 years to have done so well.
Today, aged sixty, Barbara looks fit and healthy. Seven years after her cancer operation, and regular series of three-monthly and then six-monthly cancer checks, she had the previous Tuesday just been pronounced ‘discharged’. You are never totally clear of course, but that is about the best you can be told.
Despite her forty years of property successes, continually climbing the ladder, she was that day technically homeless. She and her husband David – still working as a forklift driver – were living in a small bedroom at the Swallow Hilltop Hotel in Carlisle. They had sold their bungalow for around three times what they had paid – three beds, two baths, two garages – and it had proved their best investment so far. The house they thought they had bought had fallen through, hence they were camping in a hotel while house-hunting again. This time they wanted a smaller, cheaper house, not trading up as in the past. That should leave them with a good nest egg for their retirement years, on which to enjoy themselves.
‘We plan to be SKI parents – spending the kids’ inheritance. After all, we have worked for it. But there should be enough left for them.
‘I have three grandchildren. Meghan is fourteen and is a very clever and self-assured young lady. Niall is twelve and loves sport and bikes, he plays squash really quite well. The youngest addition to the family is Brooke, she is only fifteen months old and is full of fun, with a healthy dash of mischief. I see them all regularly but tend to see more of Brooke at the moment as Meghan and Niall are at school all day and after school they are off doing their own thing with their mates.’
They had thought of moving abroad, to Tenerife, where they usually holiday twice a year, but would miss their two children and three grandchildren.
‘It would also probably mean paying for them to come out every time they visit us, which of course we would do. At the moment, it would probably be too expensive for them.’
Barbara has not much interest in politics today and doesn’t always vote, but would probably vote Conservative or for a coalition.
‘I believe my parents voted Labour, but I would not be surprised if my mother maybe voted Conservative some of the time. In general I think politicians have a self-agenda dressed up as being for the good of the country and its people. Basically, I think a huge percentage of
them are in it for themselves and have no real idea how ordinary people live. While I disagreed with a lot of Mrs Thatcher’s policies, I do think she had great strength of character and made an enduring impact on the face of twentieth-century politics.’
Despite being a lady of leisure, like many people today she no longer gets a daily national paper delivered, as she did in her youth when her father had the Daily Express. But she does read the local papers, the Evening News and the Cumberland News on Fridays. She likes to do crosswords and sudoku puzzles.
‘I always enjoyed novels by the likes of Catherine Cookson, Danielle Steele, Maeve Binchy, that type of thing. I am still a member of the local library and used to borrow books many years ago, but now I just tend to buy those that I want. Today I still read, the same type of novel really. I like books by Rebecca Forster, Rod Hoisington, Kathleen Morgan, Kristie Cook and Barbara Freethy.’
Now her two children have grown up and left home, she doesn’t do as much cooking as she used to.
‘When I was younger, and the children were at home, I tended to cook pretty much the same sort of things that I was used to at home, when I myself was growing up.
‘At the weekend we would have the traditional Sunday roast and often had the leftovers on the Monday or I would use the stock from the meat or chicken and any leftover veg to make soup. I also used to bake fruit plate cakes and buns, jam tarts, etc. Trouble is they always went too fast ’cos when you smelled the baking, it just made you want to eat it. I also used to bake savoury pies likes bacon and egg quiche and meat pasties.
‘Today I still cook things like shepherd’s pie and quiche but also like to make a chicken curry or chow mein. We also like fresh fish, maybe with new potatoes and a bit of salad.
‘I rarely bake cakes any more and I rarely make a “Sunday” roast, maybe once a month or so. But it could be on any day of the week, in fact hardly ever on a Sunday, as we like to go out on a Sunday to the Lake District, maybe to Keswick or Ambleside. I really don’t cook very much at all at the weekend as we eat lunch out almost every Saturday as well.
‘Unlike in my parents’ day there is usually some kind of alcohol in the house – mainly beer and brandy and a few extras around Christmas time. I don’t drink wine as is disagrees with me, but very occasionally I may have one glass with a meal, say at a wedding or other function.’
She always tries to have biscuits in the house, to offer to visitors with a cuppa. ‘But you can bet an unexpected visitor always turns up on the very day you don’t have any. That used to be a bit embarrassing when I was still working in a biscuit factory.
‘I used to like Carr’s Sports biscuits and another one called Lunch. A shame they are no longer made. As a youngster I also used to like Blue Riband and Nice biscuits. Butter sultana cookies were another favourite. I bought them in Marks & Spencer when I was sent as a girl into town on a Saturday, along with such delights as angel cake, date and walnut cake and of course the cookies. These were for tea on a Sunday. As a child I didn’t like fig rolls.
‘My biscuit-eating habits have changed over the years. I don’t eat as many as in my younger days, but I do like a “luxury” biscuit like for instance a triple Belgian choc cookie.
‘When I was first working at Carr’s, we did sometimes eat the biscuits, especially if you were in the chocolate room. But the novelty soon wore off and you just did your job. Nowadays you are definitely not allowed to eat any of the products.
‘I used to like working on small Table Water Biscuits, in the days when you hand-fed the biscuits into a measured slot, ready to be wrapped. Today they’re gravity-fed automatically.
‘There weren’t really any biscuits I didn’t like working with, but both custard and Bourbon creams are notoriously difficult to slot feed when temperatures are high, particularly in the summer months.
‘Working at Carr’s certainly did not put me off eating biscuits. We used to be able to buy cheap broken or reject biscuits from the works shop, which was a good benefit when the children were young. They and their friends were always looking for a biscuit and often there would be a crowd of them at the back door. We also used to get a selection of biscuits both sweet and savoury as part of our Christmas present. But I don’t think they get anything these days.’
Although her cancer is in remission, Barbara still has backache and sore arms and wrists, a legacy of her working life.
‘The pains won’t go away now, after twenty years lifting biscuit boxes, but I don’t blame Carr’s. It’s what women have to put up with, if we do those sort of jobs. When we are young we think we can cope, but women are not generally as physically strong as men, whatever we might think.
‘I remember when I first started at Carr’s standing for an hour stacking boxes on to pallets – each containing thirty packets of biscuits weighing four kilos. And there was a bloke beside me, just standing there with his empty barrow, waiting for me till I’d finished so he could take it away. That still happens – but now they mostly have electric barrows, so there’s little physical work for the men. But women do still have it hard when they do any sort of factory work, despite some of the new automatic machinery.
‘But all jobs have their problems. Carpet fitters get terrible knees, typists get repetitive strain injuries. I look at all these kids today living on their mobile phones and computers. I am sure they will suffer for it.
‘On the whole, though, I enjoyed the work, apart from the last couple of years. I loved the lasses and the company – but most of all I was grateful for the money. We ended up with somewhere nice to live and we have three cars, just for the two of us, which I know is extravagant. Dave does like his cars. He’s still got a Jag, but that’s just for weekends. And we’ve got personalised number plates. He also has a Fiesta to get him to work, while I have a Focus.’
Barbara doesn’t think she deprived her two children in any way by having worked so hard these last thirty-two years. ‘I saw them all day, when I was on evenings, and Dave looked after them otherwise. And they did always get the latest Nike trainers.
‘We should end up having some extra money in the bank, when we buy the smaller place. In fact I am going today to the solicitor’s office to pick up the cheque for the sale of our property.
‘In the end, of course, property doesn’t mean much, it’s just a possession, but it is good to have something nice. I have seen many a nice council house, that’s been done up, so you would never know its history. At the end of the day, though, one’s health and family are far more important.
‘When I think back, there have been lots of happy times in my life. In fact overall I am lucky and consider I have had a good and happy life.
‘I was really happy when I passed my Eleven Plus and gained a place at Carlisle and County High School – probably even happier when the reward was a new bike. I was equally happy when my mother trusted me enough to let me give up that high school place some three or four years later to transfer to the local secondary school to pursue a business studies course – on condition that I still did my O levels.
‘Other highlights included an exchange trip with a French student and many family holidays in the south of England in Devon, Cornwall and Norfolk. Meeting and marrying my husband and having my two children are also highlights.
‘Another highlight was a flying lesson given for my fortieth birthday. I actually got to fly the plane over our house, needless to say this was the first and last time I took control of a plane.
‘There of course have been a number of low times throughout my lifetime. My first real bereavement was probably that of my grandad Sammy who was a real character with a twinkle in his eye and a wicked sense of humour. He died in 1973 aged seventy-eight I think, just a week or two after his golden wedding anniversary. My grandmother who was seventy-three at the time lived for a further nineteen years and passed away in 2002 at the great age of 102.
‘My mum died in 2001, she was only sixty-nine, and is greatly missed by us all. She was a major inf
luence in all our lives and always instilled into us the need to work hard if you wanted to achieve your goals. She used to say “you don’t get owt for nowt in this life”.’
‘When my son was about nine years old he was taken into hospital and diagnosed with meningitis. It was a very worrying time for us all, but he was lucky – it was viral meningitis and not the much more serious bacterial meningitis. There was no treatment, the virus just had to burn itself out.
‘Another low point of course was the breast cancer diagnosis at the age of fifty-two. But feeling sorry for yourself never got anything done. I soon realised that I would just have to get on with it, have the operation, do the chemotherapy and radiotherapy and then go back to work. That sounds so easy but it definitely is not. But my approach to all things has always been deal with it and then move forward.
‘It does of course alter your perspective on things and your priorities change. After being back at work for about two years and having turned fifty-five I decided it was no longer a priority of mine to work and the main thing was to live my life doing what I wanted to do each day and not doing what I thought I had to do. It sounded selfish but deep down I had to do what I wanted for myself. Luckily I was in a position where I was able to leave employment. Many people can’t afford to give up work.
‘As a girl, I was fairly quiet and reserved and probably still am. I was probably also a bit on the shy side and just got on with things and basically did as I was told and aimed to please where I could, keeping my opinions in the main to myself. This was in a bid to stay out of the spotlight and not attract any negative attention.
‘Over the years, though, I have gained much more self-confidence. I am not afraid to voice an opinion or put across a contentious point of view. I do appreciate that everyone thinks differently and has different views and opinions about pretty much everything. It would after all be pretty darn boring if we all thought the same.
Biscuit Girls Page 21