Chapter 9

‘First romance, first love, is something so special to all of us, both emotionally and physically, that it touches our lives and enriches them forever’. Rosemary Rogers

A turning point in my life came about aged just 16, when I met who was to become my first husband G….. at the local haunt – The West Grange Social Club.

He was reading a club review about forthcoming turns, which he told me was out of date. Quick as a flash, I said ‘that’s a shame, you could have taken me out’ and it all spiralled from there. I was never shy in coming forward as you’ve probably gathered; you don’t get very far by being a shrinking violet. The Social Club continued to play a significant part in our lives. It was where we had our engagement party, and where many family members celebrated significant milestones, including birthday’s, marriages, and wedding anniversaries and where did we hold our wedding reception? yes you guessed it, the West Grange.

I enjoyed dancing as did my cousin Tony and we used to dance to Glenn Miller and Buddy Holly when we were asked to get up; which was often. I have never quite lost my passion for dancing and am currently taking dance classes, ticking off one of the many things I have added to my never-ending bucket list.

Sadly, the West Grange closed down, no doubt a sign of the times. It was demolished in 2012 after much vandalism and the area turned into a housing estate. Nonetheless, it still holds some great memories; ones that most of my family can still relate to.

Not long after we met, we moved into our own flat, but it was hard for us being so young, and eventually he moved back to his parents. Not long after I followed suit, moving into his family home.

Thankfully, his mum, used to make the meals. I wasn’t much of a cook; I couldn’t bake either. Dad used to tell me my cooker was an ornament, and he was probably right, although I did cook when we eventually got our own place again. A memorable moment was the time I made some buns; they were so bad the dog wouldn’t eat them, so I threw them on the coal fire, at least they’d burn; or so we thought. We actually found them in the grate the following morning when clearing out the ashes; they hadn’t burnt either. Goodness knows what had happened, but suffice to say, I don’t think I ever made any more. Probably a good job.

Having our own room on the top floor of the terraced house, meant we could at least have some privacy. I will always be grateful to his parents for allowing us this time together before we settled down and eventually moved into our own house in 1984.

We married on 20th July 1985 when I was 21, and my husband 22, probably quite young by today’s standards. We married at the local church. It was all just perfect, even the weather stayed fine, but I remember it being quite windy and cold, hence some of the screwed-up faces on the photographs. But at least it didn’t rain! I will always be thankful that my dad was able to walk me down the aisle, and all my family were with me on our very special day.

As money was tight, both sets of parents chipped in. Recording of weddings was in its infancy at the time, so we didn’t have ours recorded but my cousin did. Looking back at their wedding video from 1990, when all the family were there, reminds me of the true importance of recording such events. Photographs tell us a lot, but they don’t capture the mannerisms of family, their voices or that real ‘moment’ in time.

Despite the lack of money, I still had a hen night, at which I was, unsurprisingly drunk. Thankfully, I had the good sense to have it a week before we married. I had my hen night at the Belle Isle Pub, another interesting and iconic place. It’s a Care Home now. Well, the DJ gave me a record that I raved about at the time [I have no idea what it was], I thought his kindness was amazing and ran down the main road waving it in the air, fell over and apparently flashed my knickers to passing motorists. Probably best I can’t remember that one. When I was drunk, I was just silly.

Wanting a family, we decided to hold off just a little while until I completed my nurse training. I knew being a nurse meant I would always have work, but, little did I know when I started, that 33 years later the shortage of nurses would be so immense, we would have a crisis on our hands.

We never did have children and we sadly divorced in 1998, receiving the decree absolute on Christmas Eve. It was an amicable divorce and we each paid half the bill. In a world where there is so much animosity regarding divorce, we both behaved impeccably.

For a long time after my marriage broke up, life was quite bleak and I struggled, especially as my dad died seven months later. As a result of our divorce I lost a whole family and many friends, and it was painful.

My wedding dress was the one thing I truly did not want to let go. I still have my blue garter and the white ribbon that wrapped round my tiny waist creating a bow that I thought was missing on the dress. Whenever I look at these precious mementoes, I am catapulted into a world of yesteryear, into that wonderful day, when I was the happiest person alive. It took me a long time to decide what to do with my dress. Every time I touched the stunning fabric, I felt its strong pull and gently placed it back in the box. I just couldn’t be parted from it. Eventually I proffered my dress to a charity holding a catwalk event.

I always hoped one day a bride would wear my dress. The flowing train creating a breathtaking effect, as she walked slowly and precisely down the aisle to the person she loved, her father by her side. Just as I had all those years ago.