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Authors: Eva Petulengro

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My mother used the name ‘Madam Eva’ as her working name, while the family always called her Laura. It
wasn’t long before people noticed the two new palmistry booths in Brighton and business began to flourish.

As well as running my first ever palmistry place, I would also work at specific events such as big parties or charity
evenings, which was how I began to build my reputation.

Giving a reading to actress Phyllis Calvert at the charity ball held by the Evening Argus at Brighton’s Regent
Ballroom, 1962. That was my first taste of what it was like to hobnob with celebrities!

Strolling along Brighton Pier in 1962. All of a sudden my career seemed to be taking off and I was loving my new-found
freedom and independence.

Writing my columns for the Evening Argus on my very first typewriter.

My Johnnie – the first and only man I ever loved. He wasn’t a Romany, and my fear of disappointing my mother
and of losing my independence led me to keep turning down his offers of marriage. But I wasn’t sure how much longer he could take my rejections.

While Johnnie was away, I threw myself into my career, which was getting better and better all the time. Here I am giving
readings to Michael Crawford, Bob Monkhouse and Vera Lynn.

Even the prospect of reading the Beatles’ hands couldn’t keep me away from my Johnnie! When I thought I might
have lost him for ever, I realised I could never live without him, so at last I was ready to say ‘yes’. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life.

My beloved granny, Alice Eva Petulengro. She was a tiny woman, who was also incredibly strong, brave and open-minded. Smart as a carrot and always
beautifully groomed, she carried herself with the poise of a duchess.

My grandfather, Naughty Petulengro, so-called because of the mischievous twinkle in his eye. He is pictured here, on the left, with his brother Olby in
Skegness.

The men in my family all loved their Aptus cameras! From left to right are Frank Taylor, Uncle Alger and Uncle Nathan.

Aunt Adeline, sitting on the steps of Granny’s vardo (caravan). Her beautiful green-brown eyes were said to change colour every time you looked at
her.

Aunt Vera standing next to my mother, Laura Eva, outside a bender tent, which would be used to give them more space when the vardos were parked
up.

Aunt Cissie, sitting on the left, was known as the most beautiful of my mother’s sisters. Behind her is Uncle Alger, while Uncle Nathan and Aunt Lena
can be seen on the right.

My beautiful mother, Laura Eva, at the age of nineteen. She was never one to show her emotions openly, but that didn’t stop an incredible bond from
developing between us. She meant the world to me.

And here she is with my aunt Vera. The two girls were inseparable as they were growing up.

Granny’s vardo. My grandfather, Naughty, carefully selected each piece of wood that went into the building of it, and oversaw the wood carvings and
mirror engravings inside, determined to have only the best for Granny.

Skegness, 1940. My father, Eddie, was home on leave from the war, visiting me, aged one, and my mother.

Shortly after my mother and father were married, Granny gave them her vardo, which became our home for many years to come. Here I am, aged two, sitting on
the steps, while Mummy checks on me from the window.

BOOK: The Girl in the Painted Caravan

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