The first three years
FOR three years we had to make every dollar do the work of
two. All through the summer holidays we worked at the
Boat Club in Dennis Port. It was hard work, but we were never
too tired to be kind to each other. I say 'kind' because there are
no words to describe our love and happiness together.
After the summer we found a 'cheap' flat near the
university. It was on the top floor of an old house and was
actually very expensive. But what could we do? There
weren't many flats around.
'Hey, Preppie,' said Jenny when we arrived there. 'Are
you my husband or aren't you?'
'Of course I'm your husband.'
'Show me, then.' (My God, I thought, in the street?)
'Carry me into our first home!'
I carried her up the five steps to the front door.
'Why did you stop?' she asked. 'This isn't our home.
Upstairs, Preppie!'
There were twenty-four stairs up to our flat, and I had to
stop half-way.
'Why are you so heavy?' I asked her.
'Perhaps I'm expecting a baby.'
'My God! Are you?'
'Ha! I frightened you then, didn't I?'
'Well, yes, just for a second or two.'
I carried her the rest of the way. There were very few