After Uncle John returned to Brisbane in 2010, we all missed him very much - even Mum, who had refused to bid him goodbye, was asking when he would be able to come back to see us, so it was a great day when he said he was going to book another holiday and stay with us.
This time, he would be here for nearly three months, which was wonderful news; it meant we could take our time going around places of interest, and where he and Mum had lived when they were young, and we could enjoy lots of little local trips out as well.
As soon as we met him at Heathrow, it felt as though he had been away for no time at all, and he was soon settled again into a happy routine of home life, interspersed with shopping, visiting the new friends he had made, and accompanying me to various venues where I performed the poetry I'd written. It was fun! and Mum was rather more amenable this time, and friendlier towards her younger brother.
In 1943, my grandfather died in an accident at work; after sorting out all the paperwork that followed the tragedy, and especially since Mum's elder brother, Austin, had died in 1938, Mum, my Grandma and Uncle John felt their lives in Liverpool had become so bleak, they had to have a fresh start somewhere new. They decided on Torquay, and it turned out to be a very good move.
Torquay was in the south, on the "English Riviera," and relatively warm - at least compared to Lancashire, and the Mersey area - even palm trees flourished, and it gave them the complete change of scene they needed so much.
The Imperial Hotel in Torquay was quite famous. It attracted an upper-class clientele, and Mum was very happy when she landed a job as one of the receptionists; Uncle John, who had studied shorthand, typing and bookkeeping, was appointed as secretary to the then Manager, Mr H M Chapman. Mum told me only the best people stayed there, and would regale me with stories of the rich and famous people she had met as they checked into the hotel, and how notes were taken on cards, detailing the likes and dislikes of all the guests.
My Grandma also found work at the hotel as a chambermaid; she worked hard, and it took her mind off all the sadness and loss she had suffered over the previous five years. Even though she was profoundly deaf, it was a job she could do well; during their time there, Grandma worked her way up, until she was also responsible for more housekeeping duties, such as keeping a check on the linen.
Mum and Uncle John had very happy memories of the time they spent there, so when I suggested we could go back and pay a visit, he was really excited about it.
I got in touch with the Manager, Cormac O'Keefe - a charming man who made us so welcome, and took us round the hotel, pointing out things that had changed over the years. One thing that had definitely not changed, was the warmth of the hospitality! Before we left, we were invited to take afternoon tea at the Imperial - a very special occasion, and afterwards Cormac also presented us with a copy of a book about the history of the hotel.
 |
| Uncle John, Alexandra and Cormac O'Keefe at the Imperial Hotel, Torquay |
The rest of Uncle John's holiday with us was spent relaxing, and just enjoying each other's company; again, the time passed far too quickly, and it was quite a wrench when he had to leave. Mum had been far better tempered and less argumentative with Uncle John this time (also due, in no small way, that he had quickly realised life was much easier if he never disagreed with her!) and she was sad when we set off to drive him to Heathrow.
We all hoped he would be back to stay with us the following summer; he knew (and still knows!) he will always be welcome here with us.
No comments:
Post a Comment