I lived in Court-y-bella Street in Pill from birth. I was born at home, and stayed there till I was ten. I was a 'Bolt Street' schoolboy. That was when I first fell in love with 'sports mixtures' - really chewy and hard jelly sweets in the shape of cricket bats, footballs and the like. They sold them on the corner shop right next to school.

My grandmother, Mrs Twort, was quite famous in Pill and the wider Newport area. She was a fortune teller, and was sworn by many to be 'true'. She lived in Pill for most of her life, and certainly her adult life was spent in the same house that I was born in - 22 Court-y-bella Street.

As a fortune teller, she had a regular clientele, and as a small boy, I remember the visitors that used to come and have their fortunes told - they're all dead now.

There was Miss Preston, who always wore a man's black bowler hat. There was Mrs Byll, who was ancient to me at the time, but probably was in her late sixties. There was also Margaret McGinty. She was the barmaid in the Waterloo Hotel, and as her name suggests, she originally came from Ireland.

My mother used to tell me of my Uncle Tom's escapades in relation to my Nan's profession. Apparently, as the need arose, Nan was not averse to leading a seánce as a medium. She would do this in a semi-darkened room. We only ever had gas light in the house, so this was quite easy to achieve. She would sit all the old ladies down arouund a round table covered by a cloth reaching down to the floor.

My nan was quite theatrical in leading the seánce, exhorting everyone to "believe in me or leave the room now" - said in a deep and sonorous tone, and threatening dire outcomes to those who did not believe.

The gas was turned down, the old ladies suitably 'psyched up' to contact the spirits, when my Nan started to call on the spirits in the time honoured was - "Is there anybody there?"

Unknown to my Nan and before the seánce began - my Uncle Tom had hidden himself under the table. The old ladies - probably excluding my Nan - were imminently expecting contact with the next world. Then the fun started.

With a deep groan, Uncle Tom raised the table off the floor and slowly began to groan longer and louder. At the same time he began to spin the table around faster and faster. Apparently this caused near apoplexy to the old ladies, including my Nan, who was probably more surprised than anyone at her proficiency in her unexpected powers.

My Nan of course eventually found Uncle Tom helpless with laughter and unable to get up from the floor. As was par for the cause in those days - she beat him black and blue. Of course, he recovered. Whether her reputation as a medium ever recovered, I never did find out.