Living in the Past: A Northern Irish Memoir (13 page)

W
hen Kathleen qualified as a nurse and midwife she went to a job in Glasgow which she found, on arrival, was in a slum area of that city and from what she told me it resembled the recent programme on the BBC,
Call the Midwife
.

The police and everybody were very protective to the nurses, as the area was not very salubrious or safe to travel around, especially in the dark winter evenings.

One night she was called out to a tenement flat. The patient was a young black woman who gave birth to twins – two boys.

She said to Kathleen, “Will you choose names for them?”

Kathleen replied, “Peter and Arthur,” after her boyfriend and her brother.

Kathleen only stayed in Glasgow for about a year and then went to Roe Valley hospital in County Fermanagh which was as complete a contrast as one could get.

I often wondered what became of little Peter and Arthur.

Peter, Kathleen’s boyfriend, emigrated to America. On the Sunday night before he sailed we were all in Mahery, as usual, at the dance. Near the end the band played the waltz, “Now is the hour for me to say goodbye, Soon I’ll be sailing far across the sea”, which was a hit tune at the time and was made famous by film star Gracie Fields. After that, Kathleen would be in tears when she heard that tune. Kathleen took over the shop after that for two years or maybe more, until one day Peter returned and all was well.

They were married and settled down as proprietors of a central hotel in County Meath. It was in the middle of the farming area and, apart from market day, trade was slow during the day. Like farmers everywhere, when they have finished their milking and feeding their cattle and pigs, they are usually ready to go out for a pint about ten o’clock, so from then on trade would be brisk.

Once, when Shamey and I were staying there for a day or two, we were upstairs in their private lounge with Kathleen, when Peter called up, “Arthur, Shamey, come down.” He was trying to put a man out who was causing trouble in the bar – a big hefty man who wouldn’t budge and Peter was shoving him through the door where the man had wedged himself.

Shamey, Peter and I managed to push him through the doors and close them, then opened the big outer doors and shoved him out onto the street.

When we went up to Kathleen she asked who was it and when I told her she said, “Oh, glory be, he’s a justice of the peace.” I could hardly believe my ears and then she added, “And we are appearing before him next week.”

I asked what for and she said, “For serving drinks after hours.”

We were leaving the next day, but she told me he came in the following day very contrite, had a brandy and apologised. I believe when her case came up, it was dismissed.

Arthur (around 1990) in the Brilla
Photo shows the Brilla in County Tyrone on the left, the Blackwater River, and County Armagh on the right.

Like Kathleen, I also moved ‘abroad’ and arrived in England in 1954. I got off the boat in Liverpool at about seven o’clock in the morning and looked around for a café or restaurant to have some breakfast. I saw a policeman and crossed over the road and asked him about the nearest café.

He put his arm around me, “Ah, Paddy, how are you? Come with me and I’ll take you to a good breakfast.” And off we went with his arm still around me. He was really pleased to see me and I found out soon enough that, at that particular time, to be Irish would have opened doors in England. If you were Irish then you were going to be full of fun, make everyone laugh and, probably, sing a song, as well.

Arthur, standing, with his cousin Joe Magennis, whose father, Joe, emigrated to America.

Unlike Kathleen, I didn’t move back to Ireland but stayed in England and made my life here…but that’s another story. Maybe, I’ll tell it to you later.