Chapter Six - Wedding Bells
In the next couple of years Dave Miller, Phil and Jim all collected their black belts too. The BBC club moved from Putney to Covent Garden and sadly Irvine informed us he was going to leave Britain and join his brother in Australia.
As it was, quite soon after the grading I was running a lot of the classes myself as Irvine was still having trouble getting to class. It was during one of these sessions I lost my front teeth. Between my dentist, Irvine, sweets and bad luck I had already lost a fair bit of them as it was. But Phil’s foot sealed the deal! I would love to relate how it was done during a fight or sparring, but it was actually a total accident when we were warming up. We were doing wheel barrows as part of a warm up session and I had Phil’s right ankle in my hand and all he had to do was kick up his left for me to grab. He didn’t, I bent forward to grab it and at that point he swung it up straight in to my mouth, bang, no front teeth! Well, mostly no teeth, just enough for two crowns.
One of the guys training opposite our area in Covent Garden was Dan Docerty. Dan was famous for winning the South East Asian open martial arts division. He was a Karate man when he went to Hong Kong as a police officer. While there he learned Tai Chi Chuan. On returning to Britain he took up teaching Wudang Tai Chi full time. At that time he was one of the few people in this country to teach ‘proper’ Tai Chi including combat application. Little did I know then that I would later compete in one of his competitions.
Irvine upped and left for Australia, a sad day. I was left to run his clubs along with Phil and Dave Miller.
At work I managed to get a promotion, and I left the NCB headquarter behind Buckingham Palace, for smaller offices just off of Fleet Street. Just as well considering all the problems there had been when the miners had picketed the place. I also left behind what I had seen as the potential love of my life, one Susan Smith. If only she had felt the same, but she didn't. All I had been was a constant irritation in the office we had worked in together.
My new job wasn't taxing in the least and I found myself disappearing to the pubs near The Temple more often than not. I got friendly with some of the guys there and got involved with a few football matches between departments and played a bit of table tennis. I had never been good at either, but I certainly improved a far deal. Did I mention I was an Arsenal Supporter? If I didn’t I am.
In late 1979 I went on holiday to Tenerife again with the Essex mob. The usual suspects were there, Stuart or Mr Status Quo, as I thought of him, one of the groups biggest fans. Andy, big guy, Tae Kwon Do black belt. Paul, could write a book about him and will enlighten you more later. Steve Burr and Steve Fewtrell, two good guys we had met on a previous holiday along with Chris Fulford, who would go on to be a fairly successful actor.
As I said earlier Kay was on that holiday. She actually went with her long term boyfriend. But things were on the wane and we got on well too. Within a couple of weeks of coming back there was a party and unbeknown to me Kay had ditched her boyfriend and was asking around to see if I was going to this party.
Not too surprising then that she made a beeline for me when I arrived. And we ended up staying the night, even if she was in a camper and I was laying below it.
Kay was a pretty girl, intelligent, positive and overweight! In the years we were together she went from pleasantly plump to down right fat and back again, several times. But she had an infectious personality, was a natural mother figure (even though her only child, which she had at 16, was adopted) and was open minded and loved to socialise.
It was more or less love at first sight and within five months we were married. My mother was not impressed, probably with good reason.
Apart from the fact Kay was my first long term girlfriend. She was, as I said, fat and at times quite loud, my mother liked neither. Also I jacked in my long term job at the NCB in. We had this idea about spending some time on a kibbutz with Stuart and Steve Burr. So my mother blamed that on Kay too.
1980 was a big year, and not for all the right reasons. Kay and I married early in the year in Grays Registry office Essex. The reception was at her mum and dad's in Corringham. They were a nice couple, although a bit yokel, prudish, and very close. Kay's dad did all the catering.
My father and mother attended but my father was obviously not well and at one point fell of his seat. He spent some time laying down in one of the bedrooms. He had been off work for a couple of years due to a hip problem caused in an accident. During that time it had become more and more difficult for him to walk and he had lost a lot of weight.
The wedding and the meal after went well. And in the evening we had a party with Kay's family and our friends from Essex. My sister in law Denise and her husband attended too.
We flew out to Tunisia for our honeymoon, staying in a brand new five star hotel. It was nice although a little quiet. And I got offered two camels for my new wife, by one of the market traders! I didn't take him up on the offer as I couldn't think of where to put two camels!
When we got back we stayed with my mum while waiting for the kibbutz plan to take off. While there one evening we were sitting on the sofa watching TV, my mum was in the kitchen, when my dad came down from the bedroom, he looked terrible, yellow, gaunt, he was only in underpants and clearly had no idea where he was. I will always remember the look on his face, he look like a startled and very frightened bush baby. Suddenly he half leaned half fell back and at the same time he lost control of his bladder and pissed himself, it was orange!
I had no idea what to do. I called for my mother who, initially, lost her temper, but then realised my father wasn't himself at all. We managed to get him on the sofa and my mother phoned for medical assistance.
Now comes the hard bit, because I have to confess to several stupid, and on the face of it callous mistakes on my part. I look back now and see how weak and confused and deluded I was. If it's any consolation to my family, friends and you the reader, I have to admit to being haunted by the whole episode, and probably will be to the day I die.
I didn't want to be around the situation, here was a man who had scared me, fascinated me, educated me, amused me and finally befriended me man to man. But he wasn't that man, he was a withered worn out shell and I hated it. I had seen him go down hill for years and it hurt to watch it. And now finally this, I couldn't take it. So Kay and I went out and left my poor mother too it. I consoled myself with the fact she was strong, had the matter in hand and we were in the way.
As we left my father was stretched out on the sofa apparently asleep. I called out 'bye' to my mother and heard my father slur 'see you', it was the last thing he ever said to me and the last time I saw him.
In my mind he was dead, I had seen my beloved grandmother go the same way when I was just 18 and she was only 66. I knew he was going to die. Over the next two weeks my mother visited him in hospital and each time she came back it was to report that he had no idea who he was or when it was. Apparently at times he thought he was back in the navy. I have no idea if this was the result of illness or medication or both, but it was a carbon copy of how my grandmother had been. I couldn't face seeing him and convinced myself that visiting him would be wrong for a number of reasons.
A couple of weeks later I got up and went down to the kitchen to find my mother at the sink. She simply turned and said ' your fathers dead', we both burst in to tears and hugged. He had been just 50 years old.
Stupidity was compounded on the day of the funeral when I didn't go. I hated the church and all the crap it stood for. And refused to stand around while someone who didn't even know my father came out with a pile of shit. Moreover I had a chest infection and had been told by my doctor to stay indoors. So I did.
That silly decision cost me friends from the Beehive and alienated me from my mother for six months. Soon after the funeral Kay and I went to stay at her parents. We never did get to the Kibbutz, although Steve and Stuart went. And I didn't go to aikido for about eight months. It was the end of the line for a lot of things, life would never be the same again.
