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    Golden Weddin' Anniversary
    Golden Weddin' Anniversary
    Golden Weddin' Anniversary
    Ebook129 pages1 hour

    Golden Weddin' Anniversary

    By Jack Scoltock

    ()

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    About this ebook

    All hell breaks loose at the golden wedding anniversary celebrations of the McPartland family in Derry. A visit by the Blessed Virgin Mary to some of the children causes more trouble. A black comedy from renowned Derry author, Jack Scoltock

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJack Scoltock
    Release dateMar 16, 2016
    ISBN9781310474859
    Golden Weddin' Anniversary
    Author

    Jack Scoltock

    Jack Scoltock is one of Irelands best fantasy writers for children of all ages.He was born in Derry, Northern Ireland in 1942. He is married with two grown-up children.Jack has many books on the Amazon, Smashwords and Draft2digital.A scuba diver for over forty years, Jack was one of the divers who found a Spanish Armada wreck in Donegal in 1971. Inspired by a small leather boot found on the wreck, Jack wrote one of his best historical stories about a boy who stows away on an Armada galleon. The Sand Clocker (Spanish Armada Stowaway), is one of Scoltock’s most popular history books.Now retired, Jack Scoltock spends his free time writing.Challenge of the Red Unicorn, Davey's siege (a siege of Derry story), Perry's Adventure, Justine's Secret Challenge, Seek the Enchanted Antlers, Back To Neverland, are among some of the best of Jacks stories.

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      Book preview

      Golden Weddin' Anniversary - Jack Scoltock

      Golden Weddin’ Anniversary

      Copyright © 2015 Jack Scoltock

      Published by Jack Scoltock at Smashwords

      Cover design by Justine Scoltock

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, photography, filming, recording, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, or shall not by way of trade or otherwise be lent, resold, or otherwise circulated in any All rights reserved. No part of this book may be utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, Jack Scoltock. The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

      Golden Weddin’ Anniversary

      A Novella

      Chapter 1

      Two years ago, I saw the Blessed Virgin Mary, or as Paul used to call her, the B.V.M.

      That year was my grandparent’s fiftieth wedding anniversary. Christ, a lot happened that year! Oh, by the way, my name is Kerry Quinn, and I live in Derry in Northern Ireland. My da actually wanted to call me Derry, but thank God my ma had more sense. I’m not too fussy about Kerry, mind you, but Derry – Jesus think of the slaggin' I would have got, if I’d been called, Derry. Derry, where do you live? Derry Jeeesus...

      Anyway, I’ve decided to write down as much as I remember about what happened that year. Ye see I’m doing this course in creative writing, and my tutor asked everyone in the class to write about an incident we remember in our past -- an incident that changed our lives. Well, here it is, the incident, or as much of it as I can remember. There are parts of my story I have had to use my imagination and add to, for there were times I only heard about what happened from my ma and da.

      ****

      A week before my granny and granda’s big night, I called to see them. My grandparents are called May and Joe Mc Partland and they live in a wee house at the bottom of Bishop Street. I lived on the Lecky Road in the Bog-side then and most days, on the way home from school, I would call in to see them. It was always nice and quiet there, and I could get peace to do my homework. I have two younger sisters. It was almost impossible to do my homework when they were in the house. Anyway, there I was, sitting at the table near the window in my grandparent’s sitting room doing my homework and at the same time listening to them talk about their plans for their fiftieth wedding celebrations.

      Back then, my granda was a wee wiry man with thick gray hair. He was always smoking a pipe. I had rarely seen him without it in his mouth. He was sitting on the sofa staring into the fire puffing away.

      My granny, who was at least four times his weight, was sitting beside him. Her hair was darker than my granda’s, and she had pale waxy skin.

      It just seems like yesterday, and here we are. Joe, nearly fifty years married. God, imagine, fifty years. That’s a long time, isn’t it? Yet it’s gone so quick. She sighed and smiled. Just think, Joe, they’ll all be here next week, all the wains. Wains, ha, ha, ha. That’s a good one. Our Kathleen’s some wain, eh. She’s what? Forty-nine. Imagine Joe, we have a daughter who is nearly fifty years old. She nudged granda. Remember the day she brought her Frank home from the Yankee Base to ask fer her hand in marriage. God, Joe, he looked like a film-star in his American navy uniform. She sighed again. Aye, it only seems like yesterday. She looked up at the mantelpiece. Several photographs, some in silver frames, were neatly lined across it. It’ll be nice to see our Tom again. He says his Bishop won’t need him fer a whole week. She frowned as she turned to granda. How long is it now since we went over to England to see him? Two years last summer? Shaking her head slowly and grunting, she rose and ran her forefinger along the edge of the mantelpiece. I’d better start gettin’ the house cleaned up. The curtains should be back from the cleaners on Monday. She looked down at granda. Ye’ll have to give the windys a lick of paint, the doors as well. She frowned, as she studied my granda for a second or two.

      He took a long drag on his pipe and puffed softly. The sweet smelling smoke curled down into the fire and was suddenly whisked up the chimney.

      Joe, are ye listenin’ to me?

      Startled, my granda coughed, tugged the pipe from his mouth, and looked up at her. Aye May, aye of course I am, he said hoarsely and coughed again.

      My granny’s frown deepened, Ye are happy about our big night, aren’t ye? I mean, ye are glad they’re all comin’, aren’t ye? I know ye hate all the fussin’…

      Aye, of course, I’m glad, said granda tapping his pipe on the edge of the brass companion set. It’ll be nice to see all our grandchildren again. He looked up. How many have we now? I can never remember. Granny began to count on her fingers. Let’s see. Josie has three. Mary, she’s expectin’, has three. Kathleen has two and oh, aye, Kathleen’s Kelly has one. They can’t come. Kelly’s husband can’t get the time off work. How many was that? She counted on her fingers again muttering, Josie’s three, Mary’s three, Kathleen’s two, and Kelly’s one. Nine, we have nine, Joe, eight grandchildren and one great grandchild.

      At this my granda looked into the fire again, and I just heard him say, Naw May, we have ten.

      I’m not counting hers, hissed my granny, glancing over at me.

      I pretended I wasn’t listening and scribbled something on my jotter.

      Aye, well, whether yer countin’ hers or not, the fact is we have ten grandchildren. Ach, May, ye can’t surely ferget about our Sinead’s son.

      Sinead is my other aunt. I have three aunts. Sinead is the youngest. Nobody talks much about her, except my ma.

      I didn’t forget, snapped my granny. She’s not comin’. She’ll only spoil the night fer us if she does. Joe, look, I don’t want her at our big night. Ye hear me? She glanced over at me and lowered her voice, but I heard what she said. I hope to God I never have to see her again.

      My granda sighed. Ach, May, do ye not think it’s about time you and Sinead made up? Now would be a good time to make up with her. Look, why don’t ye go round to her flat this evenin’. Invite her to our do. It would make the night fer all of us.

      Would it? snapped my granny. Well, not fer me it wouldn’t. I’ll not invite her and listen, Joe, if you do, and she steps through that door, I’ll order her out. She’s not welcome in this house.

      Ach, May. Sinead is our daughter after all, our youngest…

      No! shouted my granny, glancing over at me again. I bent my head closer to the jotter pretending to write as she lowered her voice. "She’s

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