II: Jack

[I observed Jack regularly for about one year. Then, as the family moved to an even more remote district, I kept in contact with them on a once-a-term basis until Jack was four years old.]

The background of Mrs G and her family could hardly have been more different from that of Mrs T for they lived on the outskirts of London — a poor, gloomy, working-class area, densely populated by Irish immigrants — in a small, overcrowded, poorly lit, semi-detached brick house. Mrs G had been a maid before setting up her large family. The flat was extremely sparsely furnished. For friends Mrs G relied on her neighbours, a crowd of chattering Irish women who would drop in to compare notes on the latest price of cabbages, sprouts, turnips, carrots and so on. This observation was accordingly far less colourful and eventful than the first one. But the monotony and drabness were not just due to the setting, for they were in fact characteristics, and important ones, of this particular family, as I hope will emerge from my account.

My contact with Mrs G was established through her family GP who gave me her name, phone number and the probable date of the birth of the baby. He told me that she would expect a phone call from me a couple of weeks before the delivery, due in about two months. However, something went wrong, for when I rang Mrs G to arrange for an appointment she sounded surprised and perhaps also a little annoyed and said that the baby was already about a month old. Not having heard from me for such a long time she thought that I had forgotten, or changed my mind or something. Then without asking me any further questions and without more ado she arranged an appointment for the following week.

After having spoken with her on the phone I realised that not only did she assume that I knew about the child's premature birth, but also that I already knew a lot about both her and the baby. In fact all that I knew, and this came from her doctor, was that she was in her early thirties and