Chapter 4, 1986 - 1989
So 1986 started on a high. If I remember correctly we told my parents on Christmas Day. On New Year’s Day, or maybe it was the day after, I met my two colleagues from work for a game of golf at Caird Park nine holer and told them. It was a good period.
There’s not a lot to talk about for the first few months of 1986. Sandra’s pregnancy was going well, she was never one to be perturbed by that sort of thing. She did have a wee incident in the summer though. I was at work and received a call from a lady working in the grocer in Invergowrie. Sandra had been standing at the bus stop outside and had fainted. If I remember, she’d come to see me at work then decided to get the bus into town. This was before she was able to drive, I’m sure. I went down to the shop, where the lady had been taking care of her, and drove her home. Sandra was fine.
Saturday, August 30th, 1986. United were having a good start to the season, sitting top having beaten Aberdeen, Rangers and Hearts and drawing with Clydebank (eh?). Today they were up against St Mirren. Unfortunately I had a taxi shift so couldn’t go. I did my normal start and finished around 4am. I’d have made it home by 5am, having filled the car and dropped of the night’s takings.
I was knackered as I always was after a shift finishing at that time. I jumped into bed and cuddled up to Sandra. I must have been asleep for 20 minutes when Sandra woke me. Adam had decided to show face today, 31st August, 1986.
We got dressed, jumped in the car and drove to Ninewells Hospital. Did he come when we got there? No, he waited until later in the morning. I can’t remember exactly what time but it was a fair old wait.
We were delighted. A wee greeting faced lad appeared to say hello. One skelp in the erse later and he was up in Sandra’s arms.
Four delighted grandparents.
I can’t remember when Sandra got home with him, a few days anyway. I can vaguely remember collecting them and driving home. I’m sure I had my Mark 2 Ford Escort at the time.
So that was us, the beginning of our family, life changed forever. We were both extremely happy.
Now Sandra had given up her job for parental reasons but we managed, albeit with a bit of a struggle. No luxuries, just the bear necessities. We actually didn’t have central heating in our house, just a fire in the living room that was installed with the house and a Calor Gas heater on the upstairs landing. Winters were freezing in the mornings. I’d get up around 7.30am, fire up the upstairs heater, nip downstairs and click the fire into action. That one was always trouble, taking several clicks before igniting. I’d then sit and have my breakfast, Sandra would get up and I’d go to work, Tuesdays and Thursdays getting home in the early morning once my Taxi work was finished, up again at 7.30am.
The rest of the year was pretty standard: work, taxis, sleep, skittery bums, dirty nappies, greeting faces, broke by the end of the month. Yes, standard fare for new families.
One of our friends, living in London, would travel back home and we’d all go out for a drive on a Sunday, which was good fun. I’d borrow the video camera from work and get some footage of us all.
Soon enough it was Adam’s first birthday. Monday 31st August, 1987.
We were struggling financially. Things were really tight. I was looking for other work. I remember this day well. We couldn’t afford a present for Adam. We were gutted but Sandra was fairly understanding of it. Not much we could do, we tried our best and we were doing well under the circumstances. I went to work that day and refused to go home without a present. When I finished work I drove into town and bought a Gordon the Gopher puppet with whatever cash I had. We were happy at that.
Oh, I never mentioned! Sandra was pregnant again! Due in March 1988.
So here we were again, preparing for an addition to our family.
Feeling the pressure I carried on looking for jobs, had a couple of interviews but no success. I was happy at SCRI doing what I was doing though so carried on with the taxis.
Wednesday 23rd March 1988. Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson was number one. This was an easier birth day for me. No taxis and if my memory serves me well it was a daytime visit to the hospital, no dramas. We knew what to expect this time too, not that I had to do much.
We drove to the hospital, bags prepared for a wee stay for Sandra. A few hours later came the appearance of Stephanie. Another skelped erse, another greeting face and another two delighted faces.
And four delighted grandparents.
A boy and a girl, our family was complete. Or was it!
A few days later we were all at home, our lovely wee family of four.
I still had my Fordy then. Two doors and a bit of a struggle getting child seats in the back. We’d managed to save a wee bit so went and bought a four door hatchback, a wee family car. A Peugeot 309 from Stouts of Abernyte. I knew the salesman and he helped me out a bit.
Sandra might have gone back to work prior to Stephanie’s birth. Maybe part time, I can’t remember. She did eventually go back, doing two or three night shifts per week at PRI, as we couldn’t live on my wage alone.
That summer we had a holiday in London with our close friends, the four of us on our first holiday together. It was a good couple of weeks, if a little hectic going into London.
The rest of the year and into 1989 was fairly standard, me still working two jobs and Sandra eventually returning to work. Her shifts were handy as it meant I had the bairns in the evening when she was working.
Things were to turn in 1989. I can’t remember exactly when but it started with a minor disagreement between myself and Sandra. We all have disagreements but Sandra now had a gun that she would point at my head should I come over a tad disputatious. That gun came in the form of two very young kids. Adam and Stephanie.
We had some form of disagreement. A difference of opinion. That’s when I first heard ‘I’ll leave and you’ll never see the kids again’. I brushed it off with a pinch of salt but it doesn’t half grind you down as it develops and continues for twelve years and beyond.
