Two Walls and a Roof (36 page)

Jack
’
s discos took off and became a great success. Some time later I clea
rly remember giving him my bill
as I entered his dance
hall
as a paying customer on a Sunday night. He nearly had a heart attack at the size of my bill. It must have seemed extraordinary to him, considering hi
s entrance fee for a dance
at the time
was
just five shillings, or one quarter of a pound, and I was charging him fifteen pounds. He always felt that I charged him way too much, and I still believe that I didn’t charge him half enough.  We had many a laugh a
bout it in later years
when we were both heavily involved in ‘pirate radio’
and had become fast friends
.

Not too long after I started working for Larry
,
I was to meet my first wife Etta Butler. I used to hitch a lift home from work every evening
,
and at that time Etta was working in a sweet shop on the corner close to where I did my hitching.  This intersection was known as the ‘Bon Bon Corner
’
, getting its name I suspect from the type of sweets sold in her shop
, bon bon
s. I was to get my first whipped ice cream cone
in that shop. It was called a ‘ninety n
ine
’
, and I discovered years later that these cones had been invented and used for the first time in St Louis
, Missouri
during a World
’
s Fair being held in that city. Like much of my story, by a strange twist of fate St Louis and America were going to play a great part in my future life, but all of that was unknown to me on the day I wandered into Con Dore’s sweet shop to buy a
‘n
inety
n
ine
’
from the attractive shop assistant called Etta.

Etta did the making and selling of these cones as well as being the general money taker for sweets and groceries.  It was summertime and I had spotted her earlier at work through the shop window
. H
er smiling face and happy personality seemed to hold a great attraction for me.  I had never had one of these whipped ice creams and decided to try one, as I had seen a lot of people coming out of her shop with their tongues wrapped around them
. B
esides that, it would give me a chance to chat
up the cone-
maker and see what she was like
as a person.  The day I went in
I didn’t know what those cones were called
,
so I waited around keeping an ear open for the name of the ice creams
while
keeping an eye on the shop assistant as well.  She didn’t seem to notice me at all
and I didn’t know why that was,
because you couldn’t swing a cat in that small shop
. S
oon a customer uttered the magic words
,
“Ninety nine please
,”
and I saw the whipped cream squirt out into the cone.  Immediately I was at the counter asking for a cone, and as she made my ice cream I realized that Etta was as thin as a stick, a
nd was way too thin for my lik
ing.  She wasn’t a bit impressed with me either, but as she took my money she smiled
,
and there and then her smile got me interested again. I left with my ice-cream and ate it down
,
delighted at its odd taste.  Next evening I was back again for more
,
and again she smiled
.
I was getting more impressed with her, and each day I tried to stay a little longer to chat her up.  I was getting braver and more brazen too and it was getting to the point where I might ask her out, but to do that I needed an edge
; so
mething her many other admirers hadn't got. I had noticed that she seemed to have lots of other fellas who were interested in chatting her up too, and all of them were better looking and taller than me, so I had to come up with a good plan or forget about her.

I had been reading all the James Bond books at that time and I saw a few films too
.
I noticed that he always got the best looking women with no problems
,
so I’d model myself on James.  From that bit of research I noticed that
he had square shoulders and
spoke with a real deep Scottish accent.  This had to be the edge I needed.  I dismissed the fact that he was a real goo
d-looking Scotsman well over six foot tall
as just a minor detail.  Therefore all I needed was his accent and broad shoulders.  I practiced my accent each day in Larry’s shop
,
always pulling back my shoulders for better effect and doing my best to lower my tone of voice.  Over a time I had dropped my voice an octave or so, and as my voice was always naturally deep, after weeks of this effort, it had turned out to be almost cavernous. I had deliberately kept awa
y from her shop for a few weeks
so as to get my voice perfected, and also to make it look like I wasn’t interested in her at all.

I returned for a cone, asking the magic words in my now deep voice
,
“Can I have a ninety nine please
,
”
while
squaring up my shoulders and
smiling in Bond style at the same time. I tried to imagine that I was James with the girl already under my spell. The shop was crowded and Etta made a quick cone and seemed to be very anxious to be rid of me.  I took it that she was busy and left, quite a bit deflated but willing to return the next day for another go at her.  This I did
,
and again she got rid of me far too quickly I felt, so I tried to get my voice down even lower still the next day.  I couldn’t figure it out
. T
he lower I got the faster she got rid of me.  This was not the way it went for James Bond
and I was in a quandry by then,
as none of his charm was working for me.

Around that time I happened to be hitching home with a friend of mine known as ‘The King’ and I wa
s telling him all about her,
so we decided to buy some cones together
. H
e had no money, and as I was not much better off, I
bought one cone to share with T
he King every second lick.  Etta served us as usual with a smile, but she went on to the next cu
stomer rather too quickly again
with not a sign of her wanting to
chat to either of us.  O
utside the shop The King wanted his lick of the cone
,
and when I gave i
t to him he took a large tonguefu
l and immediately started spitting it out all over the street, saying
,
“That’s gone off, that’s gone off, you can’t eat that
,
it’s sour”. I took a cautious lick and it seemed to taste the same as all the other cones had done, so I ate away.  It took years before I realized that he had been right, and the cones she had made were often sour.  As Etta never ate them herself, she didn’t even know if they were okay or not, and customers were not going to complain to such a pleasant
,
happy girl in
those days. After that failure
I decided she was not for me. Some time later she left the shop and I forgot about her and her cones
. M
onths later I met her in another shop and she
told me she was a trainee nurse
working in Dublin. Little did I know it, but she was actually working with my sister Lill in the same hospital, and Lill was about to set up a blind date between her friend Etta and her brother John
. L
ife would then take on a whole new turn for me.

We began dating after our initial blind date
,
which took place on a
St
Stephen
’
s Night in the Majestic ballroom, home to many of my earlier escapades. We got along great after a shaky start
,
and I suppose Lill painted me in such a good light that Etta was expecting a saint and found herself attached to a devil
,
or a madman at the very least.  I
wasn’t long going out with her
when her parents decided they were going to Youghal for a week on vacation.  Youghal is a lovely seaside town, and in those days cou
ntry people who could afford it
would rent a caravan in Redbarn beside the sea
,
just outside the town.  I was invited to join them because Etta would be made go there as well. I really did not want
to do this
as I didn’t know them well, and the idea of being trapped in a mobile home for a week with strangers really scared me
. I
n the end I agreed and we arrived in Redbarn. The only good thing about t
he place was that it had a big d
ance
h
all and it was close to the cinema in Youghal town, so we would be able to escape for some of the time at least. The other down side was that her brother, Anthony
,
was also there and he was only thirteen
. He
seemed quite wild to me and always wanted to hang out with us
,
which we didn’t want at all.

When we arrived at the site, it was lashing rain as usual.  This was a bad start off and I was already thinking this holiday was a very bad idea
indeed.  The caravan was a five-
b
e
rth affair
,
and
A
nthony
and I
were given the inner bunks in the fr
ont, with Etta on the
outermost side of the caravan.  To ensure that no funny business happened, the parents shared the central part of the caravan
,
separating
me and their precious daughter from any temptation.  The real downside of all of this was that, if Anthony or I wanted to go out to the toilet
,
we
had to pass through the parent
s
’ bedroom and
Etta’s room before you got to the door. I’m sure Anthony would be forgiven for passing on through, but I most definitely would have a devil of a job explaining my reasons for ending in the daughter’s room. Her parents were very strict and left me in no doubt about their moral code, especially her father, who was particularly detailed in his objections to the funny business. From the first day I became petrified about having to go to the toilet in the middle of the night.  So that a toilet trip didn’t happen, I went to all kinds of lengths to ensure that I didn’t need to go out at night.  I would stop drinking tea after six o’clock
in the evening, and
refuse
d all minerals as well
.  This
,
I’m sure
,
led them to the belief that I was a secret alcoholic and also very impolite when I flatly refused their constant offers of tea.  I tried my best to counter these ideas
,
as I suspected they were getting wary of me afte
r a few nights of this carry on
because
,
before bedtime, I would be in and out like a man with a secret desire for drink. Etta of course knew all about my fears and saw the funny side of my predicament, but she did nothing to ease my fears.  As the days wore on I got braver though, and settled into believing that her parents were nice after all, which they were, but it took many more years to find that out.  Soon I was drinking tea, but no orange
,
as it always made me want to go all night long. Then one night the inevitable happened.  We
had been at a dance in the hall.
I was drinking orange like a mad man due to the heat
,
and throwing caution to the wind, I continued drinking till the dance ended.  We had a great night as we
were all alone;
no Anthony, no parents and great music.  When the dance ended I went to the bathroom and made
a real long piss and felt that
that was it for the night
-
a wrong conclusion as it happen
ed. By then it was way past bed
time and at the caravan I tried hard to go piss again one last time to be sure, but nothing was doing so I went to bed.  I ha
d to pass in through the parent
s
’
bedroom, and seeing them bot
h asleep or pretending to be so
embarrassed me to death, but I made it to our inner sanctum and got ready for bed.

Anthony wasn’t asleep and was all up for chatting to me
.
I wanted to just collapse into bed, so I told him eventually to shut up or I’d throw him out the bloody window or I might just kill him and bury him in the sand.  He took this rather too seriously I thought, and he started to threaten to tell his mother about what Etta and I got up to. I figured that he must have been o
ut slinking around the campsite
as we walked home and he had seen us snogging in the dunes. Eventually I fell asleep
,
ignoring his threats.  It seemed only like an hour or so before the need to go to the toilet began.  I am certain it was my imagination at first, but more and more it got worse.  I was in a terrible state in a short time.  I was clutching my
m
ickey and tossing and turning all over the place
, buy
nothing did any good.  Soon I resorted to pissing out my window. This was a window that opened out on a spring hinge
,
but it seemed to be stuck or the spring was jammed.  Again and again I almost had it open
,
but it would spring
shut again almost catching my m
ickey in this vice more than once.