Me Father Was a Hero and Me Mother Is a Saint by Eamonn Sheridan

Author:Eamonn Sheridan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publish on Demand Global LLC

I made up my mind to move as soon as it was possible to do so. But first, I had to get my girlfriend’s parents’ permission to marry. She was eighteen and I was just a year older. They finally relented, amid great jubilation between my fiancée and me. My parents reluctantly agreed also and we set about planning our wedding. She was a member of the Church of England and had been taking instruction in the Roman Catholic faith. So, in celebration, she decided to be baptised into the Roman Catholic Church. That removed any problems we were likely to encounter when making arrangements to get married. The day came, and on the 19th September 1957, we were married in St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church in Alcester Street, Birmingham. The reception was held in the church hall, the hiring of which had kindly been arranged by the priest who had been instructing her. Our friends from Keay & Company were there, together with members of both our families. Her father disappeared before the service, along with my brother Gerry. They were both in need of a drink and found a pub nearby to slake their thirst. They spent the rest of the day together, like long lost brothers. All went well and we spent two weeks honeymooning in Dublin.

On the way across the Irish Sea aboard ship, she informed me that she wasn’t a virgin. But she quickly added that it was due to the fact that she and her family had run the streets so much, because of her father’s behaviour. Her doctor, she assured me, could confirm this. I wasn’t a total idiot, and while I accepted her explanation, I took it with a large grain of salt. While we were on O’Connell Bridge one afternoon, she left me to visit the ladies toilet just off the bridge on the quayside. When she was in there, four of the girls I knew from the Friday night dances in St. Peter’s Hall came walking past. “Hey, there’s Éamonn,” one of them shouted and all four were around me like bees to a honey pot. We had exchanged a few words and they asked me if I would be at the dance, when my wife came out of the toilet.

“Oh, meet my wife,” I said and before I could say anything else, they disappeared as if by magic.

“Who were they?” she demanded to know, looking as if I had done something wrong. I explained, but she was in no mood to accept my explanation and got into a hell of a huff that lasted for the rest of the day. I knew that she was a little possessive, from previous experience, but this was nonsense, I thought. I was learning things that might have changed matters regarding our relationship, if I had been aware of them before marriage. I might have waited longer, except that my hormones were running riot and we had become intimate of late. I felt that I was obliged to marry her as a result.

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