A Valentine Story

 
  Originally uploaded byganching1

The first time I visited my aunt and uncle, Peggy and Cathal, they were already in their early 70s. Cathal was one of the younger brothers in my father’s family and he and Peggy had moved to Australia in the 1960s.

I had met them before when I was a child, on the rare occasions when they came home to visit. Sometime, in the 70s, they decided to return to Ireland for good. Another brother found them somewhere to stay, a cottage a few miles outside the village where he himself lived. He was one of the more eccentric members of the family and the house he considered suitable for Peggy and Cathal and their three young children, was up a long lane and had neither electricity nor running water. It had last been occupied in the 1940s and still had an earthen floor which was already a rarity when the last people had moved out.

“Imagine us in a place like that! We’d come from a lovely home with a shower and a fridge and everything - not even a proper floor and me with youngsters!”

They spent one night in the cottage and the following day packed their bags and went to stay in a small flat in town with Peggy’s sister. A few months later, after a jobless winter in Northern Ireland they returned to Australia.

I didn’t see them for a long time as I was never back in Ireland when they were around.

About ten years ago my sister and I spent a month travelling in Australia. We planned to stay with Peggy and Cathal for not more than a day or two but ended up visiting for much longer. Peggy loves entertaining and was delighted to have an excuse to bring out the good china. What she liked doing best though was talking and telling stories. Peggy was in the same class at school as my mother so it was interesting to hear her versions of stories my mother had already told us.

Cathal looks very like my father and he sounds almost identical although 50 years in NSW has modified his accent and today he says “grog” rather than “beer”. He clearly adores Peggy and is openly affectionate towards her in a way that my father would never have been with my mother.

My sister and I were keen to hear about what it had been like for them when they first moved to Australia and they were happy to talk about it. Like any long established couple they know the rhythm of each other’s stories.

“Well, we were only married and I was just a wee slip of a thing.”

“She was lovely, that slim. Her waist was so small, I could span it with my two hands.”

Cathal lifted his builder’s hands and made a circle with them to show my sister and I how small Peggy’s waist had been.

“She’s more of an armful now!”

“Aye and I’m a handful too!”

They both laughed.

“We were on the £10 passage scheme and we had almost nothing, but we were that excited about what was ahead of us and oh, the ship was great. We were on it for nearly six weeks and there were so many things to do and every night a lovely dinner. After dinner we’d go for a walk round the deck and then I’d go off to my cabin and get ready for bed.”

“Your cabin?”

“Well, you see, the cabins were shared and men and women were in different ones. I was allocated a bunk in a room with about 7 other women. I had a nice spot though because the bunk I was given was next to a window on the deck side.”

“Yeah, and every night after I’d left Peggy at the cabin door I’d have another bit of a walk and then, when I knew Peggy was in bed, I’d go past her cabin and rap the window and she’d knock back and that was our way of saying goodnight to each other. I never missed a night.”

“How romantic!”

My sister and I were each imagining what it would have been like for them, newly- wed and forced to spend every night apart.

“But the thing was” Peggy continued, “the woman who was allocated the bunk above mine had arthritis and she had terrible bother climbing up into her bunk. I couldn’t stand to watch her do it so, two or three days after we set sail, I’d swapped bunks with her so the person saying goodnight to your uncle Cathal every night wasn’t me, it was a forty year old woman with a bad leg.”

They both cackled when they told us about this deception.

“Yeah, that slim my two hands fitted right round her waist. She was lovely then and she still is today.”

Comments

[fifi]

well, that is truly lovely. What a dear sweet pair.
She does still look beautiful, Peggy does.

I am glad they like it here. I have many friends who are from Ireland.
Some very dear friends returned also to Ireland about 8 years ago, but they have remained with their 3 little children, in Tipperary.

[Loganoc]

That is ridiculously cute. I really hope I meet someone who I'm still in love with when I'm old.

[curious]

That's a nice story about nice people. Where's the fattest dog though?

[rara avis]

v sweet.

[ganching]

The fattest dog in Australia lives with my other aunt. Peggy wouldn't allow a dog like that about the place!

Thanks for comments. This story is a bit corny but true and it was Valentine's Day.

[longcat]

thankyou, i love your stories,

and corny it may be but it brought an almost tear to my eye...

x

[ganching]

Thanks longcat.