FIRST LOVE - EMMA

I was twelve years old at the time, living in the Creggan area of Derry with the rest of my family.  Emma was a local girl reared not far away from my own street.

She was prim and proper and all the things that nice girls are meant to be, and she was really beautiful.  It was no surprise that all the boys in our street secretly thought about her, and wished they could go out with her.  Yet no one had the nerve to go and ask her out and, maybe it was through my own shyness, I felt very much the same way.

Noel McLaughlin on the other hand, with his know-it-all attitude, knew all about women.  He had had quite a few girlfriends, no one could deny him that, but his comments after dating a girl were not very nice. With the school dance coming up he made it very clear that he would be taking Emma to the dance – unknown to her of course!

It all happened when my mother asked me to go to the shop for milk.  Being the age I was at the time, I went about the chore very lazily, passing the shops where the girls stood teasing the boys who passed them.

I noticed Emma, her friend Karen and of course Noel talking, and, by the look on his face, he didn’t seem too happy.

Emma called me over, and like a bolt out of the blue, she asked me to the dance, much to the anger of Noel.  Naturally enough I accepted and we had a great time.  Emma and I stayed together for seven years, then her dad got a job in England and she had to move away.

I never saw her again, but that day when Emma asked me to the dance, has to be one of the most pleasant memories of my life.

FIRST LOVE - JUNE

When I was sixteen I fell in love with a wee lassie called June.  She was the most beautiful girl in the world.  We used to go to the pictures on a Saturday night, and sometimes we’d go to a dance.  We used to jive together and we loved it.  June trained to be a nurse in the Royal Hospital, and when she finished her training, we were looking to the future together.  I had served my time as a welder, and I had a good job.

We decided to get married and I asked June, her mother and father out for a meal.

After the meal I asked her father for June’s hand in marriage, and the next day we got engaged.

We parted company for over a year and she decided to go to Edinburgh, in Scotland, to do her midwife’s training.  I played a lot of football at the time, but I missed June very much.

When she came home, we got very close again, and she started her nursing career.  We set a date for the wedding on Easter Saturday.  We were both deeply in love.

The Sunday before the wedding we had a hell of a row!  She threw the ring at me and said the wedding was off.  I was shocked and devastated.  As time went on that week, June and I had no contact.  Then on Wednesday night, I told my mother and father the wedding was off.  Thursday night I got drunk; I bought a ticket for the Scottish Cup Final, to be played the following Saturday.  On Friday night I was on the boat to Glasgow.  The day I was to get married, I was at Hampden Park watching Glasgow Rangers win the Scottish Cup.  Rangers beat Dundee three-two.  The year was 1975.

To cut a long story short, June and I sorted our differences out and we got married two years later.  One of the guests at the wedding was Albert Finlay of Glentoran Football Club.  He made a speech at the wedding to the new Mrs June Simpson.  He said, “ I am sure you’re glad the football season doesn’t last twelve months a year, or this day might never have happened!”

June and I had many happy years together and God blessed us with three lovely children: Fred, Helen and Paul.

As time went on I worked away from home alot.  I spent some time on the oilrigs in the North Sea, and we drifted apart from each other.  I wouldn’t change the times we had together.  There were good times - I would still marry the same wee lassie.

Although the piece of the jigsaw has fallen out, we are still good friends.  I made the right decision, after all, when I married June.

I had a surprise visit on Sunday afternoon.  June and my young granddaughter came to see me.  We still keep in contact with each other.  June is a very good girl and if I needed anything, she would be the first to get it for me.  I failed June many times, but she never let me down.  

FIRST LOVE - SALLY

My perfect day out would be a trip to the beach.  Not just any beach, but one close to Carlingford, in County Louth.  It’s something you would expect to find on a desert island.

I found it by accident in ninety-four.  I had made plans to meet up with some friends, at a beach called Shelling Hill.  I had never been there before, but I told them I had a good idea how to get to it.

After leaving church, I drove home, gathered a few things for the beach and off I went.  Driving along the country roads, I was going over in my mind the sermon in church that morning, the theme of which was, ‘I go to prepare a place for thee.’  My mind was trying to imagine what this place would be like.  What would it be like to be with God in paradise? I thought to myself.

Suddenly I was reading a sign - Docks Next Right.  I knew I must have missed the turn to the beach.  My friends had told me the beach was five miles from the docks, which are situated at the end of the peninsula.  So it was my own fault for saying I knew the way.

After turning round I drove for a few miles and took the first turn left.  This has to take me to the beach, I thought to myself in expectation.

The road I was on now was very narrow, with grassy, high banks on either side.  I could see nothing, only straight ahead.  It was more like a lane than a road, which made me feel that I would end up in someone’s farmyard.

Then, as if I had dropped out of the sky, I was on a beach.  Awesome, absolutely awesome, I was thinking, as I got out and stood on the sand.  Looking around me, I felt I had found Utopia.

I knew this could not be Shelling Hill.  There is always a chip wagon or one or two mobile shops.  The only unnatural thing on this beach was my car, not a piece of litter, not even a Coke can.

I sat down to take in the beauty that surrounded me.  Looking up at the clear blue sky and feeling the gentle breeze on my face, I thought perfect, as I lay down on the warm sand.

I must have fallen asleep and was awakened by the sound of crunching sand.  Sitting up, I saw a girl pass by.  She was wearing a long, red, cotton dress, the bottom of which was flicking along the sand.  She looked at me, not in a serious way or a friendly way.  But I felt as if I had intruded on private property.  I lifted myself and headed towards my car.

“Don’t leave on my account, I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she said.

Turning around, I was met with the face of an angel.  Piercing blue eyes, jet-black hair that was dancing in the breeze, and a beautiful warm smile.  “I’m sorry if I’m on private property,” I said to her.

“No, no,” she replied.

It must have sounded odd, but all I could think to say was, “Would you like a coffee?” as I lifted my flask from the seat of the car.

“If you can spare it, I would love a coffee,” she said.

I poured out two cups of coffee and we sat down on the sand, with our backs to the car.  I explained to her how I ended up on the beach and how beautiful I thought it was.  I told her it made me feel as if I was in God’s Garden.

“Eden, I call it,” she said.  She then told me, I was the only person she had ever met here in all the times she had walked on the beach.

I said, “If you tell me your name is Eve, then mine is Adam.”  We both laughed and laughed.

We chatted for hours, but as the sun started to hide behind the horizon, I could feel my perfect day coming to an end.  I did not see how she came to the beach and I didn’t see another car or anything.

“Is someone collecting you, or do you need a lift anywhere?” I asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine, I’ve had a lovely day,” she said with a smile.

Starting up my car, I put my head out the window.  “By the way, what is your name?’ I asked her.

“Sally,” she replied.  “Just call me Sally.”

All week long I thought about her - perfect place, perfect girl, perfect day.

The following Sunday, I went to the same place.  Pulling up on the beach, I was met by Sally.  She was standing with a flask in her hand.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Jim?” she said, with a cheeky smile.

“Perfect, Sally,” I replied.  As we sat drinking coffee, I asked her how she knew my name, as I hadn’t told her.

I felt a bit silly when she said, “You have it tattooed on your arm.”

After the coffee we went for a walk along the shore.  This was our routine all summer long.  Every Sunday we would meet up and go for walks and talks.  Most times we met, the sun would be out in full splendour.  I think we only had one cold day, it didn’t bother me, because Sally, to me, was sunshine personified.

But the signs of winter were coming in.  The sea was getting wilder, the blue skies turning grey and the days were getting shorter.

“Will you be here next Sunday?” I asked Sally.

“Yes, I should be.  The only time I don’t come, is when it’s raining,” she said.  I told her if it was a good day, weather wise, I would be out to the beach.

The whole week it was terrible, wind, rain, even thunder and lightening one night.  I prayed it would be better by Sunday.  As I came out of church on Sunday morning, it wasn’t raining, no, it was more like a hurricane.  I drove home feeling lost in myself.

Sitting in my house, watching the rain pouring down, I thought, why not?

Driving to the beach, I knew Sally would not be there, but I just had to be sure.  Sitting in my car on the beach, I was totally lost, alone.  I looked at the flask of coffee, I had a million questions in my head, but no answers.  I wondered where did Sally live, work, where would she be now?  I was scared at the thought of not ever seeing her again.  “Come on, Jim, she told you she wouldn’t be here in the rain,” I said this to myself aloud.  Why?  Well I suppose I was trying to fool my mind that I wasn’t feeling this awful pain in my heart.

We had spent a whole summer together, yet we never once asked each other for phone numbers or addresses.  We spent hours and hours talking, yet I didn’t know where she lived.  To me, Sally was a real soul mate, just perfect.

I was brought back to earth by the swish of the window wipers.  “Ah well,” I sighed, as I turned the key in the ignition.  Turning the car, I noticed something in the sand.  I got out, and sure enough, there on the beach, footprints.  Sally’s footprints.  I knew they were hers because of the streaky lines which her dress made in the sand.

I was close to tears.  I had missed her.  If I had just come out after church, like I normally did, I would have seen her.  If I had this, if I had that, I was thinking as I knelt down to run my fingers over her footprints.

I stood up to go back to the car, and there it was.  Written on the sand dune, with stones from the beach, were the words, ‘See you next year, Pippy.’

I was sad, I was happy, I was lost.  I had found a perfect place and a perfect friend.

I never knew her last name, nor did I turn up the following year.  I would love to have been there.  I would hate to have let my friend Pippy down.  It’s just that, well, when you end up in jail, you don’t get days out, to go to the beach!

Someday I hope to go back to the cove and, who knows?  Well, we can all dream.  I only hope Sally didn’t think I never came back.

Anyway, I left my flask for her, with a letter in it.  “To Sally from Jim.”