The Adventures of Grace Russ

I had a really nice time in York. We stayed at the University there and I had lovely Student quarters; a nice spacious room with a very comfortable bed, a writing desk and chair, and a large roomy easy armchair, a huge wardrobe and chest of drawers with a wash basin next to it. Just outside were the bathroom, lavatory and a kitchen where you could make tea or coffee or do toast or whatever in a little oven/grill with a hotplate on top for warming or cooking, like a Baby Belling cooker. Needless to say, all I made was the odd cup of tea and coffee because the food was so gorgeous you really didn't need anything else. We had three cooked meals a day; it was a self service type of counter so you could have as much or as little as you wanted. I made a pig of myself, of course, on the basis that I would be back to the old bowl of porridge and beans on toast when I got back home; everyone say, "Ah, poor soul".

I was in Derwent House and this was situated on a lake; we had to cross a walkway to get to the Dining Hall and there were lots of Ducks on the lake; lovely and peaceful. I would love to go again, but may not be able to for a few years as preference is given each year to those who have never been before, still it is worth the wait.

I was in the Samaritans Centre the other night because we had to have a 'de briefing' prior to writing out and handing in our reports on York. As I was on the early morning 3 a.m. to 7 a.m. duty I stayed there over night and went to bed. This morning there was quite a panic because I couldn't find my knickers. I knew I'd had them on when I arrived but just could not find them anywhere. As the night sleepers tonight are men I felt I must find them or it would be very embarrassing; knowing them though they would probably have pinned them on the Notice Board with a note saying something like "Can we join in the next orgy?" However, all was well and I eventually found them tucked under the pillow (I had looked there before but must have lifted them up with the pillow and not noticed them). The Volunteer who had taken over from me was doubled up with laughter and said if the phone rang and she was unable to answer it would be my fault; luckily the phones were quiet so she was O.K.

At the moment there are only two of us here on the secretarial side (Mary & me) as the main secretary, Sandra, is away in Israel for a two week holiday. Its made it difficult for me because by me going to York last week it meant Mary was all on her own for two days and as she is one of the world's worst worrying grumblers (I call her Doom & Gloom Mary) she was not at all happy about it and, to rub salt into the wound, on Friday she had her handbag taken from the office while she was on the telex machine. This really upset her, quite naturally, as she lost, not only her money, cheque book, credit card etc., but also her house keys and diary and address book and all the little personal things one tends to carry around. Also, it was extra maddening for her because she is the careful one who always keeps her bag hidden and never leaves the office unattended, whereas I am far more slap dash and leave my purse on my desk, bag on a chair and will float across the landing to the telex in the front office leaving our office empty. She feels it is most unjust of life to treat her like this and is in a foul mood today!

Last night I was invited by an ex neighbour to go down to the Watermans (a pub) to join the rest of her family and some relatives from Lancashire. So of course I donned my coat and went! The old lady was there whose dog, Sheba, I had fostered for nine months before she was able to have it back; she was the 'Mum' of the party, the others being her daughter and granddaughter (who had called for me in the first place), and her stepson and stepdaughter-in-law (both in their early 60's). These two, John and Margaret, had travelled down from Lancashire yesterday on the coach, which took them nearly six hours to get to Victoria, so what with their initial journey to the Coach Station at their end, plus the extra journey from Victoria to get to Charlton this end, they were pretty well flaked out by the time they got here last night and just had a quiet evening and went to bed early. So tonight they were 'raring to go' and we all had a nice jolly time. When John got the first round of drinks he was heard to comment about my choice "typical bloody woman wanting something different!" but it was all in fun (I had asked for a St. Clements, which is my usual drink when I go into pubs; it is a bitter lemon with orange juice and ice, and is a really lovely refreshing drink) I sometimes pop into a pub when I am staying with Mum and she feels quite embarrassed about it so I don't always mention it, but on the times when I do go in I either have a St. Clements or, if it is the morning session I have a coffee. People haven't yet come to realise that you don't need to drink beers, wines or spirits, when you go to a pub, unless you want to of course. In fact I find them great meeting places and can have a chat and a laugh with 'real' people. Because they are relaxed they behave naturally and. you see them as they really are, whereas in the Churches, Chapels etc., everyone is on their best behaviour and in their Sunday best clothes and pretending (most of them) that they are so pious and you only see one side of them. This doesn't prevent me from going to such places of course, but I never take anyone at face value at such venues! Gosh,I am getting to be quite a cynic aren't I?

Tonight I have a date with an Irish Chartered Accountant. My Mum is quite worried about it. "I don't understand you at all. I thought you had finished with men" etc., etc., The fact that I have just agreed to go for a meal and to the pictures afterwards, which seems all quite innocent to me, convinces her I am going to be either whisked off to bed in some kind of erotic orgy, or abducted and never seen again. I told her she has sex on the brain and she categorically denied she had ever had sex on the brain, or anywhere else, so I commented I must be a virgin birth! It didn't really help matters when I jokingly said "I shall be quite safe because I am past the child bearing age" "Oh my God" she said, "You be careful" Anyway, that is tonight. Who knows, I may have another epistle to write on my experiences tomorrow!

Last week I was at York University for four days; a lovely change of scene. I had very comfortable Student accommodation and the house I was in was situated on a lake with ducks. There were about 12,000 of us Samaritans, from all over the country and some from abroad. It was good experience to meet with the others and hear of their branches and problems. The day started at 8 a.m. with breakfast, and then we all trooped over to the Central Hall for the first Plenary of the day, after which we all had coffee before going off to our various Seminars (at which we had to take notes to report back to our various Directors at our branches). After lunch we had another Plenary, followed by tea and biscuits and then on to our afternoon Seminar (again taking copious notes). There was about an hour free before dinner at 6.45 and at 8 p.m. the evening entertainment started. Although we were all quite exhausted by that time with all the days’ events, we all to a man/woman went to the evening dance, mainly I think to unwind. As these didn't end until midnight it was 12.30 before we got back to our rooms and hit the sack.

On Thursday night we had a Barn Dance, on Friday we had a very good Jazz Band to dance to and on Saturday we had a Ceileidh (Scottish dancing), in which I took part ‘now and then’ as I found it extremely energetic and I was by then dead beat. It was all terrific fun and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

There was the usual 'upset' on Friday afternoon when Chad Varah was giving a talk to his group on Incest. I was in another Seminar so missed all the fun! Someone who had been there said Chad recited case after case, going into all the details, which wasn't really necessary. After three quarters of an hour everyone was saturated with obscenities and when this was put to him he, apparently, said that women 'enticed' men and that it was a well known fact that women fantasize a lot" which really offended some of the women (and men) there and half a dozen women got up and walked out, not only that but they packed their bags and left! It was later played down by the Committee of course, and they put on an extra discussion group about it. The 'official' version being that the women who had left were feminists just out for a bit of publicity. It seems quite a pity that Chad should go out on such a note though. (He is retiring in November and going back to being, as he put it "just the Rector of St. Stephens, Walbrook' where he is going to start 'Monday School Classes' which are going to be 'Sunday School Classes for Adults on a Monday Night').

Some of the Speakers were very good at the Plenary. Monica Dickens was one I remember very clearly; she has been living in America and has been doing Samaritan work there but has now moved back to this country. Another Speaker I recall was a Mother Francis, she runs a Hospice for children from the age of birth to 16, although she says their oldest one at the moment is 21 years, on the principal that as they made the rules they can break them if it seems necessary. Her theme was the effect of death on the survivors, their grief etc. Apparently, at Helen House the whole family can stay, and often do, staying on after the death for a while until the funeral. One of the cases she cited was of a 2 year old boy who had died this year and after he had died his mother took him out into the grounds and sat on a bench cuddling and talking to him for 2 hours, after which she returned to her room and lay in bed with him in her arms for another couple of hours while she slept, after which she was ready to lay him in the cold room (a normal bedroom which is kept at a certain temperature so the child can lay in a normal state until ' the funeral). She said that by being allowed time and space for her grief and being able to pop into the cold room whenever she wanted, it helped the healing process. A very good talk, with slides, I shall remember for a long while.

On Saturday afternoon we all escaped and went into York on a bus. The bus started its journey just outside the grounds and by the second bus stop was so full people were standing two abreast down the aisle, and the NOISE was terrific with everyone chatting at once. The poor driver didn't know what had hit him and someone shouted "We are supposed to be 'Listeners, not Chatterers".

Once we arrived at York we made for the Viking Centre and had to queue for about half an hour before we could get in, but it was well worth it; a great experience. Apparently, when they were digging to build the new Shopping Precinct a Viking Village was discovered and they have rebuilt it as they think it was originally. It is all underground of course and you travel in, what they call a 'Time Cart, backwards, from the Twentieth Century until you get to the Viking Village, but what intrigued me was the way they got the smells. As you pass each part you get the noise of what they are doing (talking, banging, whatever) and also the smell. If, for example, you passed the pigs in their little pen you got the whiff of pigs, and when you went through the hut with the family in it you got the distinct smell of smoke from the fire and the cooking smell, and by the boats you got the fishy smell. It was all very cleverly done. The exit, after you leave the 'Time Cars' is craftily through a Souvenir Shop to tempt you to spend your money. I bought a pen and a mug and also struck two Viking Coins for Adrian and Jonathon. They found two coin dies when excavating the site and have made replicas to enable the public, for a small fee of course, to strike their own Viking Coins; you are given a mallet and told to bang hard in the centre, great fun.

After our visit to the Viking Centre we went to the Minster, first time I had been and it was quite impressive. We then went into a local cafe for a cup of tea and to wait for the bus back in time for our dinner. It was an exciting afternoon but rather tiring with all the walking and standing around, yet we still managed to drag ourselves to the Ceileidh that night!

Countess Dembinska

Only the week previous to my York visit I was entangled with the Countess. My goodness, what a week and a half that was! She is the old lady I met first in 1978 when I was in Bed & Breakfast and took my main meal of the day in the Florence Restaurant in Villiers Street, just off the Strand, London.

She also took her main meal of the day there and we struck up an acquaintance, not really meeting on a regular basis, nor yet socially, but just when we both happened to be at the Florence at the same time. In 1981 she invited me to her flat, a basement flat in Craven Street, which is the next road along. At that time she had several cats shut in the kitchen, one shut in a disused bathroom on the ground floor, an old balding dog on the bed and an injured Pigeon called Charlie in a cardboard box on the window ledge. She gave me reams of papers to read, letters, documents etc., (she had told me previously about her problem). Her father was a double agent and the Government of the day successfully destroyed all evidence of his past life, giving him a complete new identity. However, he died (or was killed) and all his money and property was suddenly unobtainable to his surviving son and daughter. The son died about 10 years ago and the old lady carried on the fight for her rights alone. The Ministry of Defence is sitting on the property in Sheffield and some Government Dept has use of the property involved in France, there is a sum of money sitting in the Bank of England that has been transferred over from France but the old lady is not allowed to draw on it, even though the documents agree that it is rightfully hers. There were letters from Interpol, Ministry of Defence, Scotland Yard, Lawyers in France and a Lawyer from Sheffield in with all the other legal documents. It took me several hours to read through them and when I had finished I said it was like reading an Agatha Christie novel.

Anyway, on the 7th September 1986 my phone rang early in the morning and it was this old dear saying she had fallen down and couldn't move and would I go to see her. I said she must call a Doctor and that I couldn't go immediately as I was just about to leave for my 11-3 duty at the Centre. It was gone 4 o'clock before I eventually arrived at her flat, only to find she was in bed, the Doctor had been and gone, after she had refused to go into hospital on the basis that I was going to stay with her. That was the first I heard of it!

It was a long time since I had been to her flat and it had deteriorated alarmingly. There were now 7 cats shut in the kitchen, one running loose in the room, another 6 in the passage leading to the outside area, and one in a cupboard at the bottom of the stairs. As she used no cat lit, just newspapers on the floor, the stench was somewhat overpowering to say the least.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, it ended up with the old lady being taken to the Middlesex Hospital and me being left in charge of the cats! The only thing was, the keys seemed to have gone missing and I had to get the Fire Brigade to gain entry; they arrived with the Police who, on the pretext of looking for her false teeth, searched her flat and found a rifle! From then on things took a different course, culminating in me having to give a report to the Police on my association with her, her known associates and who she phoned/contacted etc., Likewise, I was asked to give a report to the Social Services Dept at County Hall because they were very concerned at the way the Police became involved without proper authority. In the end I was glad to 'escape' to York, since which time things have quietened down, thank goodness.

Prior to my entanglement with the Countess I had been through one of those 'boil' patches, it lasted several months, one after the other, and culminated in two abscesses, one on the breast and one on the lymph gland under my arm, which was by far the most painful of the two. Both these needed to be cut out at Guys and for some weeks I was attending their 'Dressings Clinic' every other day to have the dressings changed and the wick replaced in the hole under my arm. I now have one boil which has come up this week, on the front part of my leg, at the top, so I tend to press on it when I sit down. I am already taking antibiotics as I don't want to go through all that palaver again.

Before the boils came to a head (no pun intended) the two Chinchillas escaped for a week. I had cleaned them out and gone round to Meg's for the evening and they were still in their cage when I returned at about 2.30 a.m. but when I got up in the morning they had both vanished and for a whole week were free running in the flat. At first I thought I had lost them but left the cage open in the front room and closed the door, so that if they were in there they could get back in to eat and drink. I also put some food down in the passage in case they were elsewhere in the flat and, as both these supplies gradually dwindled I knew one was in the front room and one somewhere else. It took me a week to catch the one in the bedroom though, I used to lie in bed and listen to him eating the bed away from under me! The damage they did during that week was unbelievable. All my books had the spines chewed off, as did the records, and when I pulled the bottom drawer out of my writing desk it had no back to it, just lots of sawdust under the desk! Still, they are both back in their cage now and Eve is pregnant. Adam is still the same cheeky monster he ever was. I am sure he is the ring leader in all their mischief because he is such a character. They have cost me quite a bit in water bottles too because they keep nibbling through the drinking spout. They cost about 80p per time so the last time I got a dearer one, £3.20, with the spout made of stainless steel instead of aluminium.

This was fine, for about two weeks, and then they chewed a hole in the plastic bottle itself! Now I have transferred the spout in a cork to a glass milk bottle and hope they won't find some way to break that!

The cats are all going along fine, although Dexter did have a nasty growth on his side a couple of months ago which had to be removed at the Vet's, and Primo had an abscess on his cheek recently. Maybe he got too near the Chinchillas and got bitten? That has burst and cleared up now though.

Apart from that I can't remember much else, although my life has been very full and busy. OH yes, this week I had come to the end of all my clean clothes, being at York and with the Old lady etc., so Tuesday night just stripped off and threw everything in the machine. My underskirt and dress just about dried enough to wear the next day but I had to take my knickers still soaking wet and hang them on the radiator in the office. They were dry in time for me to go home!

I first met the Countess in 1978 in The Florence Restaurant in Villiers Street, after which time we became acquaintances but never met socially until, sometime in 1980 when the Countess invited me to her basement flat in Craven Street to see her animals.

At that time she had several cats shut in the kitchen, one on the ground floor shut in a disused bathroom, an old dog in her bedsit, and a Pigeon called "Charlie" in a cardboard box on the window sill.

In 1985, when we both once more happened to be eating at The Florence, we exchanged telephone numbers. These were never used by either of us, until the beginning of the current events, as follows:-

9:00 a.m. - I received a phone call from the Countess asking me to come at once as she had fallen down and couldn't move. I told her she must call a Doctor and she said she had. I promised to get there as soon as possible but it wouldn't be until about 4 p.m. because I was just about to go on duty at the Samaritan Centre at New Cross.

4:00 p.m. - Arrived at Craven Street flat. The Countess was in bed and unable to walk. I said she must call the Doctor. She replied she had done so; he had been and had told her she mustn't be left alone or she would have to go into hospital, but when she told him someone was staying with her he agreed to leave her.

8:00 p.m. - Went to my own home to feed my animals and left my keys with a friend.

9:00 p.m. - Arrived back at Craven Street flat. Got food and drink from cafe for Countess. Fed and cleaned all cats and stayed the night again on a chair.

7:00 a.m. - Got sandwich and tea from cafe for Countess and fed all cats. Told her I would be unable to stay the night again as I had an early morning 'E' duty at the New Cross Samaritan Centre and she MUST make other arrangements.

6:00 p.m. - Went straight to flat from office. Got chips and tea from cafe for the Countess and fed and cleaned all cats. I was told by the Countess that someone called "Bill" had stayed with her the previous night, on a chair in the entrance hall upstairs. I was also told by her that he had fed all the cats.

Having explained to the Countess that I was unable to continue being with her all night and then going to work the next day, on her instructions I made numerous calls to try to find someone to stay with her during the night e.g. emergency Doctor, various Nursing Agencies and Scotland Yard (on her instructions); all to no avail. Therefore I ended up staying the night again, sitting on a chair!

7:00 a.m. – Got sandwich and tea from café for the Countess and fed all the cats. I stated I just could not go in that night as I was feeling SO tired and she really MUST find someone else. Did not go to flat that evening.

2:30 p.m. – Received phone call at office from the District Nurse advising that the Countess was being admitted to Queen Alexandra Ward, Middlesex Hospital that afternoon, and asking if I would agree to go in over the weekend to feed the cats as it had been arranged for them to be taken away by the RSPCA on Monday. I agreed, and asked about the keys. I was told arrangements would be made and she would see Jill (a neighbour) before she left.

5:15 p.m. – Left office and went straight to flat to feed cats but was unable to get in. Went round to see Jill who informed me she only had the key to the main door to the building.

7:15 p.m. – Arrived at Middlesex Hospital and asked Ward Nurse on duty about keys, explaining the situation. I was told to wait until the Doctors had finished their examinations of the Countess.

9:20 p.m. – One of the Doctors who had examined her asked me for details of the Countess’ recent behaviour, life style, eating and drinking habits etc., and any other medical information regarding treatment, tablets etc. I gave him the brief details known to me and my name, address and telephone number, and that of my office was entered into the Ward Notes as me being the ‘Contact’.

9:30 p.m. – The Countess, having been attended to by Doctors, was then in no state to talk, so again I saw the Ward Sister about the keys. She asked a Nurse to search through the Countess’ belongings. This was done in my presence, item by item, but no keys were found. A note of my enquiry about the keys was made in the Ward Notes.

9:55 p.m. – Left hospital and went home, as it was now far too late to do anything further.

Afternoon – Went once more to Craven Street flat, still unable to get in; went to Jill, who once again confirmed that she only held the main key to the outside door of the building.

6:00 p.m. – Went to Middlesex Hospital but found the Ward temporarily closed for super and washing etc.

6:45 p.m. – Returned to hospital and again mentioned the keys. The Countess was now sitting up and able to communicate but was not 100% lucid. When asked about her keys she replied “MI5 took them”.

7:30 p.m. – Returned to Craven Street flat and thence to the ‘Ship & Shovel’ to obtain the main door key from Jill. Jill and her husband Colin being the proprietors of the Ship & Shovel and of the Sandwich Bar opposite. The proprietor of the Craven Hotel, Alan Streatham, allowed me to use his telephone to call: -

The RSPCA, who were unable to help
The Blue Cross, also unable to help
999 Police Dept., who said they were unable to do anything but advised me to dial 999 Fire
999 Fire Dept. I explained the situation and was told they would be there shortly. They arrived soon after, with Police. I had to explain again the situation and my part in it. The Police took my name, address, telephone number and my office phone number. The Police then went to the Middlesex Hospital for keys. They returned with a set of keys in an envelope marked “The Countess of Deminska’s house keys”, none of which would open the doors!

The Firemen gained entry. I fed all cats but did not clean up their mess. Five firemen, two Policemen and one Policewoman remained in the flat with me until I had finished. Whilst I was feeding the cats, the Police were having a look around for any spare sets of keys. During this search a long barrelled gun was found behind a piece of furniture. I was asked how long the Countess had owned the gun and replied I didn't even knew that she had one.

No sets of keys were found. A note was found on the table, addressed to me from Sue Balmer, Social Worker, confirming arrangements made the previous Friday afternoon to feed the cats, and asking me to look for the Countess's false teeth and take them to the hospital for her. A fresh search was made for the teeth but none were found.

The Police contacted the RSPCA but they were unable to come out that evening and it was arranged that they would come to collect the cats the following day (Sunday) at 12:30. I was asked to be there at 12.30 - as "the Informant".

12:15 p.m. – Arrived at Craven Street flat. The proprietor of the Craven Hotel (Alan Streatham) got the main key from Jill (the Sandwich Bar in Craven Passage) and we opened up the outside door to wait for the RSPCA. The inside door of the building was already open (the Police had shut this when we left the previous night). The large metal door to the cupboard at the bottom of the stairs where one black cat had been kept was also wide open, as was the first door to the flat and the door directly opposite, leading to the outside area where five or six cats were kept.

12:30 p.m. – A Policeman arrived and I asked him if the RSPCA had already been because I had noticed all the doors were open. He replied that they hadn’t yet been but the Police had been in earlier that morning to have a look around!

1:00 p.m. – The RSPCA arrived. The Policeman opened up the flat with the blade of a knife and the RSPCA looked at the seven cats shut in the kitchen. They then said they were unable to take them away because they were not sick animals, although they were shocked at the conditions they were being kept in. They said they could not take them away without authorisation from someone as to their fate i.e. were they to be put down or housed in a cattery and if the latter then at whose expense?

I then fed the seven cats in the kitchen, put food down for the kitten in the room, put food down for the black cat in the cupboard at the bottom of the stairs, and put food down for the five or six cats in the outside area (even though these seemed to have disappeared). Again I didn't clean up any of their mess.
We had another brief look for the Countess's false teeth, without success.

The Police took the note that had been left for me by Sue Balmer (Social Worker) the previous day "for their records"

5:30 p.m. - Arrived at Middlesex Hospital. The Countess was sitting up and seemed pleased to see me but was very concerned about all the ‘goings on’ and the breaking in etc., which somehow she had got to hear of.

I tried to assure her that all was well and that the cats were all taken care of, but she was not really satisfied. She said all the cats were to go to the Isle of Man "this has all been arranged dear".

9:45 a.m. - Rang the Social services Dept., Area 5, from the office to put them in the picture as to events over the weekend. They said they would handle the flat end from now on and would let me know what was to happen about the cats.

12:15 p.m. - Tony Daw, Social Worker, City of Westminster Social services Dept., rang me at the office to ask "what arrangements are being made about the cats?” I told him the RSPCA were supposed to come that day to take them away, that the Countess had said it had been arranged fro them all to go to the Isle of Man and I told him of the events over the weekend, including the comments by the RSPCA that they would be unable to remove any cats without authorisation. He said he would keep me informed of what was happening.

3:45 p.m. – Mr Barry, Social Service Dept., County Hall phoned to tell me all the cats had been taken away by the RSPCA and that all of them, excepting the little kitten, has needed to be put down because of their condition. The kitten was being put in care. Mr Barry also express some concern over the involvement of the Police and their 'looking around' and I promised to send him a copy of my notes for his information.

The Adventures of Grace Russ

Grace Enid Baglin's Diary - based on letters (1980s)

September 1986

Life with the Samaritans

Countess Dembinska