From Bray to Eternity Read online

  We thanked him profusely as we got out of his car and promised we would become avid viewers of his programme from then on. With the few coppers we had left we were able to get a bus into town and we arrived home, tired and starving.

  When we entered no. 7 Clinches Court we were delighted to see a bottle of milk, a loaf of bread, butter, rashers, sausages and eggs, on the kitchen table. My mother had left them for us, letting herself in with a spare key my father had used while we were decorating. Bliss!

  Many years later when our youngest son Robert, commenced school in Tallaght he came across some photographs which we had taken on that holiday. He got great amusement telling his classmates that his parents used to be Travellers, though that’s not the word he used. And he had the pictures to prove it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  After our holiday we fell back into our routine of work, visiting our families and being visited by them. Things were quite normal for a while. Then, before Christmas, Annette became pregnant. We were overjoyed and wasted no time in telling our families the great news. After visits to the doctor we learned we would be parents by early June 1970.

  We could not wait and neither could our families, as this would be the first baby on either side. A great sense of excitement developed, especially with Annette’s younger sisters.

  Shortly after the announcement presents started arriving for our new baby, gender as yet unknown. My Aunt Ann was a fabulous knitter and as soon as she heard Annette was pregnant she began knitting clothes in all colours for the new arrival. When David was born, we had “tons” of clothes to dress him up in.

  Unfortunately Annette’s pregnancy was marred by sadness. Shortly after enjoying a great and very happy Christmas, with lots of talk and plans for the new arrival in the summer, Annette’s father, Bill, became ill. At first it was not considered anything serious, just a bad cold like many more that very cold winter, but then pneumonia set in. A few days later, on the 6th January, 1970, I had the most unpleasant task of telling Annette her father was dead.

  Suddenly, in the midst of what had been a period of great joy and happiness, we were confronted with the most unexpected loss and grief. We were all devastated by how suddenly and unexpectedly death had arrived. It was in stark contrast to the long wait of nine months for the joy of new life.

  Over the mourning period and the funeral I was very worried about Annette. She was very close to her father, as he had been to her, and I did not know how this was going to impact on her pregnancy. I need not have worried. After the initial shock Annette was a tower of strength for her mother and her younger sisters. While extremely sad that her father would never see his first grandchild she held up and controlled her grief in a heroic way. It was a hallmark of the courage she would display in times of trouble and stress over the rest of her life. After Bill’s funeral the sheen seemed to go off the pregnancy for a while and we spent a lot of time with Mary and the younger sisters, Louise, Caroline and Claire.

  A week or so after the funeral Annette went back to work. She was working in the RTV rental office in O’Connell Street and I was still with the electrical goods company, Neasden Distributors. After our wedding they had moved from Essex Street to James Street. Possibly as a consequence of her father’s death, combined with her own condition, Annette began to get sick and miss work. I was concerned for Annette and the soon-to-be born baby, so on a number of occasions I missed work as well so I could be with her. Annette intended to leave work after the baby was born so her absence was not too serious, but I, now more than ever, needed a job. When my boss in Neasden, Flor O’Mahony, a really nice Cork man, who was very patient with me over the lost time, put it to me that I would have to choose between my job and my wife, there was only one decision to make.

  I very soon found a job, just across the road from Clinches Court, in Trux Warehouse on the North Strand. I gave my notice in after six very happy years with Neasden and began working as a Warehouse Manager. It was a job I hated, but it allowed me to be near Annette during the latter part of her pregnancy. Annette’s impending childbirth I think, in some little way, lessened the sadness felt by the death of Bill. It gave Mary something else to think about. As Annette’s due date neared Mary spent a lot of time with her as indeed did my own mother.

  We’d been told the baby was due in early June but Annette’s concept of time took over at this point. Early June came and went with no sign of the new, and eagerly awaited, arrival. Annette’s health had improved considerably and she was now blooming. She was looking great and had no pre-birth nerves at all while I was a nervous wreck. I was worrying how we would get to the Rotunda Hospital should Annette decide to have the baby during the night. Although the Rotunda was not far away, we did not have a car or a phone. But there was still no sign of Annette looking like she was going to give birth any time soon She was not in the least perturbed. Her philosophy was: “when the apple is ripe it will fall.”

  She had of course left work at this time and spent her days at home, relaxing and waiting for the big day to come. I was working just across the road and was able to nip across for my breaks and at lunch hour, so that Annette was never too long on her own. My mother also dropped down from time to time to make sure everything was alright.

  On Thursday night, the 18th of June I came home from work and we had our tea. After our meal we went across the road to the Fairview Strand cinema to see a film, returning home at about 10.30 p.m. Shortly after we got home, as we prepared to go to bed, Annette began to get contractions. I wanted to get a taxi immediately and head for the Rotunda but Annette felt it was better to wait and see would the contractions continue.

  After a while, and a few more contractions, with a minor panic building up in me, Annette decided she wanted to walk down to Dominick Street. If the contractions got more regular she would be near the Rotunda. Just before eleven o’clock, I picked up Annette’s hospital bag and we set out on a leisurely walk from the North Strand to Dominick Street, arriving at about 11.40 p.m. My mother was still up and immediately sized up the situation. She made Annette comfortable on the couch and got us some tea.

  By this time the contractions were becoming more regular, with shorter intervals. At about 12.30 a.m. the three of us went across the road and Annette presented herself to the night porter at the Rotunda Hospital.

  After a short wait a nurse appeared, took Annette’s case from me and led her down the corridor, with me and my mother following behind. We reached an old-fashioned lift, with a pull across gate which the nurse opened. She turned to me and said: “you can say goodbye to your wife now.” I held Annette and gave her a kiss on the lips. The nurse then led her into the lift, pulled across the gate, and as my mother and I stood watching helplessly Annette disappeared from view.

  We had no option but to head back to the flat in Dominick Street. That’s the way things were done back then, no way was a husband allowed to be with his wife when she gave birth. I stayed in Dominick Street that night, sleeping in my old bed.

  First thing the next morning I got up and went across to the Rotunda, but Annette had not given birth yet so I went on to work in Trux Warehouse. During the course of the morning I made a few phone calls to the Rotunda but there was still no news.

  I finished work early that day and went back to the hospital, picking up a large bunch of flowers on the way. At reception I learned that Annette had still not given birth but I was allowed to go to the ward and see her for a few minutes. As I walked down a corridor, heading for the labour ward, with the bunch of flowers in my hand, unknown to me and approaching from another corridor leading to the same labour ward was another young man, also with a bunch of flowers. We both reached the ward at the exact same time and just as a nurse was coming out. Both of us could see the nurse but we could not see each other. At the same moment we asked the nurse the same question: “could I see Mrs Halpin please?” I turned around to see who this other man, with a bunch of flowers in his hand was, asking to see my wife, just as he looked
at me, obviously feeling the same. We were strangers to each other and stared at each other quizzically. The nurse stood and looked at us both with an equally puzzled look on her face. After a moment or two the problem was solved; there were two Mrs. Halpins in the labour ward waiting to give birth.

  I was allowed in for just a few moments, barely enough time to hold Annette’s hand and give her a kiss. It was enough time to tell her how much I loved her and how I was looking forward to having her and the baby home again. I was then whisked out of the ward.

  When I made enquiries again later in the afternoon Annette had given birth to our first child, a boy whom we called David William Halpin. David was after no one in particular, we just liked the name and William after Annette’s father, William “Bill” Kennedy.

  As soon as I was allowed, I went up to see Annette and our new son. Annette looked marvellous. The birth, although it had taken a long time did not seem to have taken too much out of her and she, like me was on a high over our new baby. The first time I saw David I thought he was the image of my father. I was in no doubt he was our son. After the two Mrs. Halpins incident I was a little worried that the two Halpin babies might get mixed up but the resemblance to my father was uncanny.

  After seeing Annette and letting my mother know the good news I then had to let Annette’s family know. As we had no phones, that meant a trip to Ballyfermot. But as I was on my way over O’Connell Bridge to get the bus I met Mary and Claire on their way to visit the hospital. I was able to tell them the great news and to the amusement of everyone on the bridge the news was greeted by cheers and a dance of joy with hugs and kisses all-round.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Annette recovered from the birth remarkably quickly. After a day or two she was looking so good that an older and wiser woman in the ward told her that if she continued to look like that she was in danger of being back again the same time next year. She wasn’t too far wrong.

  After about five days Annette was allowed home. Back then it was the custom to have babies christened very soon after the birth, so on the way to Ballyfermot where we were to stay with Annette’s mother for a short time until Annette was used to handling the baby, we dropped into the church we’d been married in two years previously and had David christened. The Christening was a bit of an ordeal. My Aunt Ann, who had knitted all the clothes for David, was home from England where she was then living, with a friend of hers. Ann and her friend Gladys had come down to the hospital on the morning Annette was released and asked if they could come to the Christening. We felt obliged to say yes, so we all bundled into the taxi and headed for Ballyfermot. Ann had asked to hold David when we were in the taxi and Annette had passed her the baby. But when we got to the church Ann was reluctant to give David to Annette’s sister Marie, who was to be the godmother. I can remember Marie coming to Annette and me saying in a distressed voice: “she won’t give me the baby.” We managed to get that situation resolved and Marie got to be David’s godmother.

  After the Christening we went back to Annette’s house and later in the afternoon my parents and my brother came out to help us celebrate. After the festive tea I made a major blunder and in the process inadvertently hurt Annette. It was decided by someone, and I don’t know who, that the celebrations should continue in Young’s pub down the road. So we all, except for the younger sisters and Annette, who could not go because she was breast-feeding David, headed down to the pub. I, to my shame and embarrassment and without a thought for Annette, joined the posse and proceeded to be the proud and merry new father.

  After a couple of hours drinking most of us headed back to the house. My parents, Ann and her friend got the bus back to town. When we arrived home Annette was up in bed. I went up to find her crying and distressed. Being the fool I was I could not understand what was wrong. I thought she should have been as happy as I was. Through her tears, she told me that she’d wanted me to stay with her on our first night home with our new baby. She was disappointed that I went to the pub leaving her all alone. Only then did I realise my mistake and although I had a few pints in me, I immediately felt stone cold sober. I was embarrassed and ashamed at what I had done, but most of all I felt so sorry for hurting Annette in this way. The sight of her crying at a time when she should be so happy was a cause of hurt to me, particularly as I had caused the pain. I think this was the first of the many times I inadvertently hurt Annette throughout our marriage. Each time I did so the sight of her crying tore at my heart’s strings as I truly loved her and would never purposely hurt her. But from time to time, through thoughtlessness and lack of awareness, I did so, and each time swore I would never do so again. This time, like many more times in the years to come, Annette forgave me for my lack of thought, and things returned to normal.

  A few days later we went home to the North Strand with our new baby. Annette was now a confident and protective mother. I returned to work in Trux, and I came home at lunch time each day to Annette and David. I did not want to return when the hour was up. We doted on our first child, as did both our families. No child ever got as much love and attention as David William Halpin did that first year of his life. We brought him everywhere, showing him off to all our friends and relatives as if he was the first baby ever born. We must have been insufferable bores, but we did not care. Sometimes when a child is born, particularly a first child, the mother transfers all her love and attention to the new love of her life, and the father is sidelined. This I am happy to say did not happen in our case, if anything the birth of David brought us closer together. Annette involved me in all aspects of David’s development, including changing his nappy from day one. Naturally the extra work involved in taking care of David, including breast-feeding seemingly every hour, was exhausting on Annette. Consequently for a while we did not, make love as often as before, but as Autumn came and gave way to Winter, and the nights got chilly we would often light the fire in the bedroom and with David fed and snugly contented in his Moses basket, vow undying love to each other as we engaged in long, passionate, love making sessions while the coal fire cast shadows on the bedroom walls and ceiling

  In the spring Annette became pregnant again and I left Trux. I started to work for International Meat Producers, Grand Canal Street, where I remained until they closed eleven years later. Although David was not yet a year old, we were delighted that we were going to have another baby as we’d never intended to have only one child. Gina was a Christmas baby, born on the 20th of December 1971. Like David, Gina was born in the Rotunda but unlike David’s birth we did not have the time to take a leisurely walk to my mother’s for tea before the birth.

  We had a visit from Annette’s mother and her sisters, Louise and Claire, on Sunday 19th December. After they left, with her mother believing Annette was going to be waiting until after Christmas, her waters broke. It was at about 9.30 that night. We still had no car or phone but we were on good terms with our neighbours to our left, the Curleys. They were a couple in their thirties, with two young children, and a car. They’d said to us not to hesitate to knock if we had to go to the hospital and Johnny would drive us there. When Annette’s waters broke I immediately ran next door for help and I was very glad to notice Johnny’s car was parked outside. His wife, Dolores, opened the door and I blurted out what had happened and asked if Johnny was available to take us to the Rotunda. Johnny, hearing me at the door then appeared, with a cigarette in his mouth and very obviously having had the benefit of a few pints. No problem says Johnny, get Annette and we’ll go straight away.

  When I saw Johnny my heart missed a beat, I knew we had to get to the hospital straight away, but not in his car. David was fast asleep in his cot and that’s where we intended to leave him if Dolores would keep an eye on him. So I changed tack and said we would get a taxi if she would mind David. But Johnny insisted he could drive and while Dolores went to see how Annette was, turned his car in the direction of the North Strand Road. Dolores then emerged with Annette and assured us that Johnny had drive
n with much more drink than he had on him tonight and everything was alright!.

  Annette and I looked at each other as Dolores continued to assure us everything would be alright and David would be well looked after. As it was a Sunday night there would not be too much traffic on the roads and the Rotunda was only a short drive so we took our lives and our as yet unborn baby’s life and put them in the hands of Johnny Curley and got into the car. In five minutes flat we were at the Rotunda, safe and sound. I thanked Johnny and helped Annette into the now familiar reception area. We waited for the nurse to come down and take Annette up in the old-fashioned lift, with the cage-like door.

  After kissing Annette goodbye I went across to Dominick Street to let my mother and father know the news. I did not delay long as I was anxious to get back to David. When I did get back to him, about half an hour later, he was still fast asleep oblivious of the fact that his space was soon to be invaded by a baby sister.

  In those days, without mobile phones or indeed phones of any kind, you had to go directly to the hospital for news, and that’s what I did. Early the following morning I dressed and fed David, put him into his pram and went down to the hospital, where I learned from the receptionist that I was the father of a baby girl. Gina’s was a quicker birth than David, and in the early hours of Monday, December 20th, Regina Maria Halpin made her appearance onto the world stage. We were delighted with our new baby girl, and people told us our family was complete.