Sunday, May 1

Sunday's Short Story



The Story of Ballyferris Revisited
and
Edited





          Mr. M was our next door neighbour. He lived with Mrs. M and their daughter Margaret. For a long time I didn’t know she was called Margaret, as everyone in the "Park", knew her as Miss Peggy. In my “singy” moments I used to huma well known song of the day....,"If her eyes are blue as skies that’s Peggy M.......". Of course any Irish person worth their salt will know that it should be “Peggy O’Neill”, but mere facts like that never stopped me changing things to suit the occasion. Perhaps that's another reason to doubt my story, but it would be a shame if you did, as you would miss the whole magic of what I am telling you. 

          Mr. M’s car was like something out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It was large and square cut with massive running boards, shining silver headlights and a wonderfully loud claxon horn. Now although the Ms were exceedingly posh for St. J’s,  they were also very kind. So the five Macs got to drive to the caravan site in this amazing car for the first few years that we holidayed at Bsallyferris. The caravan ,of course, had already been hauled there for us by other means, and thus it was that we set off for our first great adventure.
         Mega preparations had to be made before setting off. There was always a cooked chicken in a tin pan with a bobbley lid , you know the sort that I mean!  Everyone had a boobley lidded roasting tin in those days. All weathers were provided for,wellington boots, plastic macs, and even worse plastic bonnets......(I hated these and aunt Helen always had an unending supply of them hauled out of her capacious handbag at the slightest thought of inclement weather)...   I could never understand why all of this provision was really necessary, for as soon as we arrived at the caravan field,  I shed shoes and all heavy garments in glorious freedom of body.
         There were always two questions to be asked as Dougie started up Mr. M's old car. “Mary , have you got the kitchen sink?... and... “ Mary , have you packed the grandfather clock?”... The delicious reply was always “Of course, Douglas.” And off we would go.
          Two children and a baby setting out on an adventure with mum,and dad at the wheel sounding the claxon horn at every impossible situation, while me, the eight year old in the back... screamed with delight.


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