...and so the story goes...
Chapter Two
Mr Megaw's Car
Mr. M was our next door neighbour. He lived with Mrs. M and their daughter Margaret. I didn’t know for a long time that she was called Margaret as everyone knew her as Miss Peggy. In my “singy” moments I used to hum, "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 have never stopped me changing things to suit the occasion. Perhaps another reason to doubt my story, but that would be a shame as you would miss out on 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 in this amazing car for the first few years that we holidayed in it. The caravan ,of course, had already been hauled there for us by other means, and thus it was that we were on the way to our first great Ballyferris 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 kind that I mean. All weathers were provided for, though I could never understand why, as I shed shoes and all heavy garments as soon as we arrived at the caravan field. There were always two questions asked as dad started up the old car. “Mary , have you got the kitchen sink? And “Mary , have you packed the grandfather clock?” The 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 the eight year old screamed with delight.

Gerry = I am enjoying every word.
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