Here is a little story from the nonagenarian legend that is Archie Beggs that gives a little insight into life on the Wirral between the wars.

Tales of Old Tom Ainscough

Tom was born in Wigan and originally intended to become a dentist, but a
change in legislation requiring extra qualifications made this too
expensive. Due to the depression of the early 1920s, the family moved
across the Mersey to Moreton, where land was cheap. They bought a wooden
bungalow. Moreton was underdeveloped, with no surfaced roads,
electricity, or sewerage — hence the name “Bucket Town” (or Debtors’
Retreat).

Most people lived in caravans, some in DIY wooden shanties, and the more
affluent in ex–World War Army huts. It was not unusual to see furtive
handcarts being pushed by those unable to pay rent deciding to “do a
flitting.”

Tom managed to learn how to drive a steam wagon by helping a neighbour,
Billy Bontoft, who had a Foden. He had started off with a Mann’s wagon
and then a Yorkshire wagon with a transverse boiler, which he said “you
had to run down a ginnel to fire.”

Starting the Haulage Business

Tom and his brother Jack decided to go into the haulage business and set
up the firm Walter Ainscough & Sons (Old Walter was a sleeping partner —
literally). Their first wagon was a Foden from around 1913, registration
M2632, bought from a scrapyard in Birkenhead. It was completely worn
out. Tom steamed it home even though nothing worked, and it demolished a
neighbour’s fence. The neighbour shouted, “You should be ashamed of
yourself!”

The gearwheels were worn to razor-sharp teeth, and Tom’s father helped
by chiselling the tops off and remeshing them.

The Sandstone Wall Job

Tom and Jack had some loads to deliver to a large builder’s yard at
Heswall. Exiting the gateway, they accidentally swiped an ancient
sandstone wall, which collapsed into the dry ditch. Tom assured the
builder that the damage would be repaired, and as they drove away said
to Jack, “Let him fix it himself — there are only a few more loads to
do.”

To their surprise, the job went on and on. The builder kept asking about
the wall repair.

“We are just waiting for the man,” Tom said. Then he had a bright idea
and approached one of the neighbours who was out of work.

“Do you want to earn a bit of cash?” “What’s the job?” “Building up a
sandstone wall.” “But I’m not a brickie, and I’ve no idea about it.”
“No,” said Tom. “You only have to look like you’re doing it while we are
getting work in. I’ll take you up in the morning and bring you back at
night.”

Much to Tom’s surprise, the loads kept coming, and the stonemason
gradually rebuilt the wall, finally finishing it. When it was done, the
builder came to Tom and said:

“Will you give your man this seven and six out of my own pocket? He is
so painstaking and careful. I’ve watched him from my office and seen him
pick up a stone, study it for ten minutes before deciding where to place
it.”

“Yes,” replied Tom. “He is a real expert. We had to wait a bit to get
his services — he was working on the Liverpool Cathedral.”