Catherine Simpson’s new memoir explores the new intergenerational caring responsibilities in middle age, and of the struggles of looking after both her father and her daughter during the pandemic. It is candid, powerful and thought-provoking, and asks important questions about life and society. Ahead of publication, we spoke to Catherine about her life’s memories.

Sandwiched: Caring Up and Caring Down
By Catherine Simpson
Published by Saraband

Where were you born? 

I was born in the sitting room of our dairy farm in Lancashire – in the same room my father was born in forty years before.  

What is your first memory? 

Of a not-very-nice aunt flushing a butterfly down the toilet. I had pointed the butterfly out to her as it fluttered in the window. It taught me to keep quiet.  

Did you enjoy school? 

I went to a 1970s comprehensive which was not a seat of learning. Many years after I left, I saw a Facebook page dedicated to the school on which one of the retired teachers mocked the Lancashire accents of the pupils. I did, however, make wonderful friends there who I still have. 

Do you remember when and how you decided to become a writer? 

I’ve always been a writer – making up stories and plays as a child and writing my own magazines and newspapers.  I didn’t think it was possible to be an actual writer though until I was nearly fifty and studied creative writing with the Open University, then an MA at Napier University. 

Did you read newspaper growing up? How do you get your news now? 

There were always newspapers in our house when I was growing up, unlike books (of which there were virtually none besides our set of Enid Blyton’s Famous Fives which we’d bought with successive Christmas book tokens). My father was a fanatical lover of the news, listening to the 4pm news on the radio (before the evening milking) then the 9 o’ clock news followed by the ten o’ clock news. He would even dive into the farmhouse between jobs to check share prices on CEEFAX. In my twenties I trained to be a journalist and then married a journalist. The news (particularly the print media) seemed to be where everything was at. Nowadays I’m hooked on rolling news, social media and podcasts. It’s hard to be a news addict now, it is all so horrifying.  

What was your favourite childhood holiday? 

Going to stay with Great Aunty Margaret in her bungalow at Knott End-on-Sea. L S Lowry had been a familiar figure there twenty years before, but my memories are more prosaic: Catching the chugging ferry to Fleetwood then chugging all the way back to Knott End. Collecting driftwood. Ninety-niners. Learning to crochet. Playing Whist. Chocolate biscuits in front of the gas fire. Being told to ‘sit like a lady’.  

What is your favourite place now? 

Edinburgh charity shops, particularly down Leith Walk. I miss them when I’m on holiday. 

Did you go to university? What is your most abiding memory of the time? 

I studied journalism in Preston as a mature student (aged 24) then I did a degree in Communication at Birmingham. Batchelors Beanfeasts are my most abiding memory. Oh, and my husband – we met at Preston.  

What was your first job? 

Serving fruit and veg in the local Booths supermarket when I was 14. It taught me that it took four Cox’s Orange Pippin to make up a pound, how to pronounce ‘courgette’, avoid piercing the pears with your nails, and never to steal ‘just one’ grape (evidence remains).  

Other than writing, what has been your favourite job? 

When I was 19, I worked for Customs & Excise. It was the early eighties. Political correctness had yet to be invented, but I was too young and too daft to be offended by most of it (porn on the walls for instance). The office was like something out of the drama ‘Life on Mars’. We spent a lot of the time in the pub.  

What is your favourite film? 

Harold and Maud. I first saw it when I was 19 and fell in love with 79-year-old Maud. She is a free-spirited bohemian who believes in experiencing the present moment and doing something new every day. I watched it again recently with my adult daughter, Lara, who said, ‘Maud’s a bit like you, isn’t she?’ and I could not have been more complimented.  

What is your favourite meal? 

My Italian mother in law’s meatballs take some beating. Rosa is 93 now though so my husband Marcello is assuming the mantle of meatball-maker-in-chief. Pasta and meatballs go so well with Diet Bru. A perfect pairing.  

What is your favourite album or song? 

‘A Kick Inside’ by Kate Bush, except it takes me back to being 16 and I don’t want to be 16 again, so I’ll go for ‘Something Changed’ by Pulp (from Different Class) in which my hero Jarvis Cocker considers how a mundane decision can change the course of your life. 

How do you exercise? 

From ‘popmobility’ and Jane Fonda workouts in the eighties through years of yoga classes and endless gym memberships and to on-line Pilates, I’ve now started working with a personal trainer and I really like it because you can chat all the time.  

Do you have a favourite word?  

‘No’ is my favourite word, or at least I am trying to make it so. For a lifelong people-pleaser saying ‘no’ is hard but I’m working on it. No. No. No. I also like the Italian phrase ‘Il dolce far niente,’ ‘The sweetness of doing nothing’. I have been trying to learn Italian for many years. At some time in the future my favourite sentence may be: ‘Congratulations you have passed the Italian language exam. Here is your Italian passport’, but no one knows if that will ever happen. 

Which writers have influenced you over your life? 

I first came across Alan Bennett’s ‘Talking Head’ monologues in the 1980s. I was at home in the Lancashire farmhouse and suddenly I was watching characters that sounded like my family, women who used the same turns of phrase, and who had similar attitudes. The Talking Head monologues were both funny and sad. I was mesmerised.  

What are you reading now? 

Memoir. I love, love, love memoir. Recent memoirs I have read include Apothecary by the Sea by Victoria Bennett, Thirst by John Robins, A Book of Untruths by Miranda Doyle  and I’m Glad my Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy – all of which are vibrant glimpses into other lives, told in unique voices. For a nosey parker like me, memoir is perfect.

Sandwiched: Caring Up and Caring Down by Catherine Simpson is published by Saraband, priced £12.99.