Sheila W.'s woven baskets above the kitchen range

Soon after midday I went to meet Helena at a house very close to the Minor Injuries Unit's entrance to Stroud Hospital. It was in the area only a few yards from where Helena lived, when I first left London to live in Stroud, an area of the earliest settlement just up the hill from the town centre, in the area called Whitehall.

The occasion was a sad event as it was a wake for Sheiia W., a friend of ours, although it was Helena who knew her best. I remember her as a very kind person, a musician and a talented artist who in later years specialised in wicker work, which she taught to many people.

I asked one of her sons if I could take this picture as it shows a small selection of her wicker basket work above the kitchen range in her cottage. The room was filled with her family and friends who had just returned from the funeral ceremony. Her cousin and her sister had prepared wonderful and delicious food which I found impossible to resist.

I spoke to Sallyanne, her cousin, who recounted the amazing story of what had happened. Sheila was quite ill for just the last few months of her 91 years. She had to stay in a bed in the ground floor living room area opposite this range. On the day she died, there was a massive torrential rain storm, which produced flooding in Stroud, where the Slad stream flows through the town centre, which was severe enough to close and damage the road.

In Sheila’s house the enormous amounts of rain and hail rain down the hill and overflowed the drains right outside the hospital entrance I mentioned above. The formed a stream which then flowed straight into Sheila’s garden, down her path, through her front door and flood her living room. Her carers called the fire brigade who arrived to help in the now flooded front room under her bed. Then there was a huge clap of thunder at the moment that Sheila died, leaving her with a big smile on her face. Sallyanne was there throughout, and as she told me this story, she was still amused. They knew it was time for Sheila to go. RIP


This story resonated with me  because when I was a town councillor, Sheila contacted me to ask for help, as she had just been flooded by an exactly similar event. I was able to arrange for the various public bodies involved to clear the various blocked drains near and outside her house, and as far as I know there hadn’t been a recurrence of such a problem ever since. That was about twelve years ago. As it happened, this was the only time I was ever directly asked for help on a personal matter as a councillor, which has always surprised me.