Of course he tried to put his foot down.

- What’s wrong with going up to the Golf Club? he says.

- What’s wrong with going somewhere different for a change? I said. And anyway, they got us that voucher for our wedding anniversary LAST OCTOBER and we still haven’t used it.

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- Could we bring it back and get the money.

- No. We. Can. Not.

He had a half a point. I don’t even like that place that much. ‘Slaughterhouse and Winch’, it’s called. It’s a bit too ‘fashionable’. You can see right into the kitchen. They’d want to put up a partition. If I wanted to be see my food being cooked I’d cook it myself. And himself hates the ceiling. "You can see all the wiring and the pipes. Does any one of them know a plasterer?" I think it reminds him too much of the house he grew up in.

Then he tried another tack.

"Since when are we the type of people who go out for Valentine’s Day," he says and quick as a flash I said, "since when are you the type of person who goes to the golf club".

Only I know since when. Since he bought that nice jumper and Mrs Richardson was admiring it at the Station. "That’s one of the Padraig Harrington Golf Jumpers, Paddy, she said – very fashionable." I think he has a soft spot for her. I think he thinks she’s a "Church of Ireland sort of Catholic". So he takes her opinion very seriously.

And now every time there’s a dinner mentioned we have to go to the golf club. The last time he was there he was all talk about Rory McIlroy’s court case. I don’t know what’s got into him this past while. Maybe he’s turning into a yuppy in his old age.

Well this time anyway, we said we’d bite the bullet and go to this trendy place. “Only don’t put us too near the oven,” I said to your man on the phone.

And do you know who was there? Gerry Hartley. And he there with Lilibeth and she had the most gorgeous dress on. Of course anything would look good on her. The most beautiful skin. They all do, those Filipinas.

It would do your heart good to see poor Gerry. Fussing over her. Absolutely MAD about her he is.

He was a late starter. Looking after his mother up until the end and she was a difficult woman at the best of times.

"I’d sort of given up on it, Mrs," he said to me, "and then you know, I met Lilibeth above in the hospital when she was looking after Mam. And Mam took to her."

Took to her wasn’t the word! It was the talk of the road. How Gobnet Hartley – who had never so much as met an Englishman let alone a complete foreigner - practically nominated Lilibeth to keep an eye on Gerry when she was gone.

He took his time.

“He was so shy,” says Lilibeth to me a few months before the wedding. "He didn’t say a word to me for three weeks only one day he asked me did I see the county final. I said 'I did not know about this county final' and his face, you know it start to be red, and he says 'I suppose you would not be into the G A A"'.

"And then I said 'I don’t know Gerry, maybe you will take me to see one of the games' and then he didn’t say anything for another week," said Lilibeth. "I think maybe I move to fast for him, haha, and then when his mam goes home from hospital and I am on my day off so I do not see him but there is this letter and he says in the letter."

"Dear Lilibeth, I hope you are well. Thank you for taking good care of Mammy. If you are not too busy, here is a ticket for a match to go with me. It is only the League because the Championship does not start yet and anyway I might be busy with the silage."

Oh, we both had a good laugh at that.

Gerry’s sister wasn’t One Bit Happy about the arrangement. She had a PUSS on her at the wedding. Even Himself noticed. And I was thinking WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF HERS and she did nothing to help poor Gerry with the mother. And of course, I had my suspicions as well because you read these stories you know about some lad like Gerry getting swept off his feet and before you know it he’s got a gaggle of Vietnamese lads in the attic growing the Divil-Knows-What.

But look at him now. He had balloons on the table and champagne. He’s like Michael Buble. We were looking over at him.

Even himself was inspired.

“You don’t miss the golf club,” I said

I’ve got my best birdie here he says. The eejit. He’s not the worst of them.