I was happy. I had
managed to permanently break my connection with Violent Hell. Mum and dad were going out of their minds
wondering how I could ever rise above the shame of my expulsion. I couldn’t have cared less. I was free and about to enjoy Warrenpoint and
everything it could offer. Had my
parents been aware that I was to become the greatest Master Candle Maker in the
world and the Chief of the O Neill Clan not to mention the true King of Ireland
they might have calmed down a bit. My
sister however, had been awarded some special certificate for receiving the
highest marks ever at Trinity College in Dublin, the parents pretended that I
hadn’t happened.
I had settled in to life in Warrenpoint. Made some good friends and even had a
girlfriend. Life, for me was looking
up. The house we were living in was a
bungalow on top of a hill. The locals
referred to it as Snob Hill, to me it was a building site. It was in a beautiful position on a small
hill overlooking the town of Warrenpoint and Carlingford Lough. But the road that took you up to the houses
was a rough track. There were no street
lights no drainage and after a couple of beers the pot holes made the stagger
home quite interesting. I know, I know,
I was far too young to be drinking, but this was Ireland.
My sister was coming home for a long weekend and myself and
my friends decided to arrange a blind date for her. At this time the best looking males stood at
the bank corner, unless it was the day they got their unemployment benefit when
they would lie on the footpath at the bank corner having drunk their fill of
cheap red wine. These guys had long
hair, wore scruffy old jeans and smoked marijuana. They were the ‘in’ crowd.
One day I was passing the bank corner and Davie Duffy was
there, on his own. I approached him and
asked if he would be interested in escorting my sister one evening to a local dance. Davie said why not and then brought a piece
of cheese out from his jacket pocket. He
showed me the cheese, which wasn’t wrapped or in any sort of container. Of course it had picked up all sorts of bits
of tobacco and lint and specks of gravel from Davie’s jacket pocket. Davie informed me that he had eaten some of
this cheese the day before and was taking it to the doctor to be analysed. There was something wrong with it.
Some of you might have had warning bells ring at his
point. I didn’t. I had got my sister a date and that was
that. Davie did take my sister out on a Saturday
evening. I remember it very well. They came to the Osbourne hotel where I was
working as a barman. A clever move on Davie’s part as he was able to get free
drinks from me all night long. They left
before I could and on my way home I noticed a large dump truck rammed into the
wall at the bottom of the hill. I do
remember checking to see if there were any keys in the vehicle as I was a bit
drunk and didn’t fancy the long walk up the hill.
There were no keys so I dragged myself home. The last thing you want on a Sunday morning
when you have a hangover is noise. That Sunday
morning there was plenty. At my bedroom
door was my sister telling me off for coupling her up with such an idiot while
the neighbours were at the front door complaining to my parents. Like Violent Hell they had assumed that I had
come home drunk. Okay a fair and accurate observation. But they claimed that I must have released
the handbrake of the dumper truck and allowed it to roll down the Hill. It could have killed someone!
Now at two o’clock in the morning there were not many
pedestrians about, only me and I was so drunk I didn’t know who I was, so I
couldn’t tell you the names of the others, if there were any. But similar to Violent Hell I was blamed and
found guilty by the neighbours, my parents and of course my sister who loved
it. Later that day as I went into town
for the hair of the dog I met Davie and thanked him for taking my sister
out. It didn’t matter what had gone on
between them I needed to maintain my credibility with the ‘in’ crowd. Davie then began to tell what had
happened. He had escorted my sister to
the door of the house, but rather than a thank you or a good night kiss she
slammed the door in his face. Davie
wandered of and said that he couldn’t be bothered walking so he jumped on a dumper
truck, couldn’t find the keys so free wheeled all the way down the hill.
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