It's Been A While

 

It's Been A While..... 

 Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, Ruby…..

 

Sometime in May 1982 I was on Hunter Ward at the Royal Berkshire Hospital. I’d had my left kneecap removed following a motorbike accident the previous year. The ward had five other blokes of roughly the same age. Four of whom were also in following motorbike accidents, the fifth had thrown himself in front of a 125 Train at Reading station and had missed.

In those days you could drink and smoke on wards which were out of sight of the Nurses station. So, most evenings we’d have a small party, the nurses often joining us for a beer if things were quiet.

One night a young pretty nurse came onto the ward, slipped on something on the floor and went A over T, showing a rather shapely pair of stocking clad legs. It was love at first ogle for me. She demanded that one of us gave her a beer, I think I duly obliged, I know the way to a woman’s heart.

We chatted a fair amount until my discharge, never sure if I was let out because I was well, or because they’d got bored of me.

A couple of days later I wrote a letter to the nurse c/o Hunter Ward, asking if she fancied meeting up for a drink at some point. Ah, the days before email and mobile phones! I didn’t expect a reply so was happily surprised when one evening the phone went and it was Carol agreeing to a date a couple of days later. I still had my leg in plaster at this point, so she probably felt safe that she could run away from me if I turned into a total nut job.

Three pints of Courage Directors followed and a rather wobbly walk on crutches for me back to my parents’ house so that my dad could give Carol a lift back to Bracknell.

Fast forward to October 1983. We’d been dating for around 18 months, had a camping holiday in Cornwall and done all the usual things that young couples do. We were at a party for one of Carol’s friends over in Sandhurst. I suggested that perhaps we should get married, Carol agreed! None of this “Down on one knee” rubbish, no kneecaps so not going to happen. The next day I called her to check if she was serious, she asked me the same thing!

13^th July 1985 - "It's 12 noon in London, 7am in Philadelphia, and around the world, it's time for Live Aid,"

Oh, here we are and here we are
And here we go
All aboard and we're hittin' the road
Here we go, oh, rockin' all over the world

 

I’m not sure how many of us were aware of the impact of the concert at the time, I know I thought I wouldn’t mind seeing Queen and perhaps Led Zep later in the evening. However, I had something else to attend to that day. At midday I was in the Three Frogs pub in Wokingham with my Best Man, Robert Day. We’d escaped my parents’ house as soon as possible; my mother was frankly driving me nuts.

At 2pm Carol walked down the aisle with her father, at about 2.30pm she walked back down the aisle with me whilst my good friend PJ belted out Garden Party by Marillion on the organ. I don’t really recall much about the rest of the day, other than skipping a bit of the reception to watch Queen and staying up late at the Old White Heart in Sonning to watch Led Zep, a bit of a letdown, thankfully the only one that evening.

We honeymooned in a two-man tent at Porthcothan Bay, Cornwall.

The next 10 years were spent being an average young couple in love, doing the things young couples in love do. We moved from a flat off the Oxford Road, to a house in Calcot. Then along came Anna, followed three years later by Max. We moved up to Tilehurst and our current house in 2005, perhaps our next move will be down to Cornwall, who knows? Life was pretty stable for us for a while, the kids were doing well at school, I had a good job with a Spanish banking group Carol was, and indeed still is working as a nurse. Then came December 2015 when I was told I had throat cancer. RT and Chemo zapped it for a while, but it came back with a vengeance in May 2017. Rather invasive surgery followed that would change our lives for ever. Eventually I took an early retirement package, with the idea of getting a part time role after recharging my batteries. COVID put paid to that!

Throughout all the cancer bollox Carol never left my side. She held me when I was in pain, she read my stupid notes when I couldn’t make a voice, she was always there!

This weekend we’re back down in the Porthcothan area of Cornwall, albeit not in a two-man tent. We have our medium sized ginger dog called Neville with us. We’ll be walking the beaches and cliffs, eating our own body weight in seafood, knocking back G’nT’s and generally enjoying each other’s company.

Here’s to many more years of making mischief with the Current Mrs C.