Read At My Mother's Knee Online
Authors: Paul O'Grady
At My Mother's Knee (15 page)
The eldest, Mickey, had that heady something that could
only be described as a whiff of Hollywood glamour. He was a
merchant sailor, tall, blond and handsome, the absolute apple
of the family's eye. He was engaged to be married to a girl he'd
met in Hong Kong but he was killed in a car crash on bonfire
night, just before his twenty-fifth birthday, five minutes from
home on his way back from a three-month trip to the Far East.
It was my first encounter with death. The family were devastated.
They seemed to visibly shrink before me, the life
essence sucked out of them, going slowly about their lives like
hollow-eyed spectres. Bonfire night was never really celebrated
after that. On the anniversary of Mickey's death it seemed disrespectful
to be waving sparklers about or throwing bangers
under the outside toilet door, guaranteed to give the unsuspecting
occupant a heart attack. My dad never approved of
bonfire night anyway, always taking care to remind me that it
was the effigy of a Catholic that was being burned on the fire.
From Left, Owld Ned, my mum in the middle and Aunty Anne, Morton Shore
My dad with his sisters Sadie (left) and Mary (right) with Uncle James in the middle
My dad in his uniform
Gran and Grandad Savage
From left : Aunty Anne (left,
cross-legged), Aunty Poll (centre) with Mum beside her, Aunty Chris(cross-legged, right) and two Fawcett cousins. The pudding-basin styles are the result of Aunty Poll’s hairdressing skill.
My mum, aged fourteen. She paid for this photograph from her first wage packet in domestic service.
Mum and Dad on their wedding day
Mum and Dad courting
Dad, Chrissie, Ma Fawcett in the middle and Anne (right), on another day out at Moreton Shore.
Chrissie at Arrowe Park
Chrissie at Ma and Dad's wedding. I don't know who she's with
My brother called me the Mekon when I was born because of the size of my head. Here’s proof, with my sister Sheila.
