ABSTRACT
Hull’s new head of department, G. E. T. Mayfield, despatched to the far north of his territory, to the Middlesbrough, Redcar, Darlington area. The northern Dales are magnificently, windily open, and remain unspoiled. Redcar was then a dreary little town. In part a weekend lung for Middlesbrough working-class families, it preferred to think of itself as a rather proper dormitory for people who could afford to live there and work in Middlesbrough, or for the comfortably retired. After almost a year in that half-house, a student in class at Marske, a tiny straggly village a couple of miles down the coast road between Redcar and Saltburn, told us of a bungalow for renting there. It lay up a snicket behind the main street, using the back garden of one of the shops there; not very well-built but attractive, a Mrs Tiggy-Winkle sort of place surrounded by a small garden.
