Bridget Jones Diary -----In Dublin
Without Prejudice
It was 2001 when the first Bridget Jones movie came out. And I was headed for Dublin. On my own, which I loathe. I deliberately hadn't read the book as I wanted to see the Movie. I'd heard a lot about it, read up on the pre publicity in the Sunday magazine. How Renee Zellweger had spent a year working in an office in London so that she could get her " Sloane" accent down pat.
How the people in the office had no idea a famous Texan actress had joined their temping staff. Renee had gained a lot of weight for the role and with her accent and excess pounds was almost unrecognisable. Colin Firth was playing the dishy Mr Darcy ( a blatant copy by the author of the original Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice fame ), And also dishy and not haughty was Hugh Grant as the Big Boss, Daniel Cleaver.
The viewing would be in Dublin, on my own, ( story of my life ) homesick and heartbroken. But that was to come later, much later.
I had been to Dublin before, to meet my Irish fiance's Mother. A lovely woman, a devout Catholic, a widow, naughty Tommy's mother. Tommy the oldest and only son, followed by three talented girls. Tommy had a prick of a father. As only a pious non drinking Irishman can be. Tommy didn't cry when his Father died at 55, suddenly and shockingly.
I did, and lit a candle, was sad all day. Tommy stated just because he had died didn't make him less of a prick and that was that.
He never did shed a tear over him.
Tommy had asked me to marry him early in our relationship and although I agreed and even wore a ring I knew I would never marry him. He drank too much. And although I loved him and always will in a way, he was, is, and will forever be a devoted drunk. He likes it. He loves it. Shy when sober he becomes Mr Saturday Night as a drunk.
Taking off all his clothes is just one of his party tricks.
Tommy had been caught drink driving in Australia. Lost his licence for 19 months. Told the Police he was from Glasgy and when there drank Tennents. He could be pie eyed and still remember his drinks as Tennents is local only to Glasgow and he's never been there in his life. Highly intelligent and yet still with the slither eyed look of the well practiced drinker he used to wander from bar to bar, his gait getting more and more swaying, like a demented Charlie Chaplin, all he needed was a cane to twirl.
After he lost the licence I persuaded him to return to Ireland for a year, to be with his Mother, work, wait out the 12 months at least, slicing off a good part of his 19 months with no licence. His Dad hadn't been dead long and I felt his Mother would love him being home. To my shock he agreed.
He rang me within a month and pleaded with me to come over. His shout, just come. I went.
I should have known things were not going to go well when my baggage was sent straight to Dublin not to Yorkshire. I was having a week with my relatives in Wakefield before Dublin. And I was staying with an elderly aunt who favoured house coats, slippers and giant dresses. I stayed indoors a lot in Wakefield Yorkshire.
My luggage and I finally rejoined a week later and I can't tell you the relief I felt.
Tommy was on his best behaviour when his Mum and he picked me up from the airport. His Father had worked for Aer Lingus all his life and in honour of him I caught an Aer Lingus flight from Leeds for the short trip to Dublin. Snacks were a packet of peanuts and a drink of sparkling mineral water. I barely had time to rip the packet of nuts open with my teeth before the green fields of The Emerald Isle were beneath us.
He hadn't been drinking at all he told me and the back of his Mothers head nodded in agreement as she drove through the hectic traffic from the airport to Palmerstown where her house was. I loved her house. A three story house with an attic bedroom where we would stay, complete with a shower and toilet. A Dormer Window looked out over rooftops of tile and chimney pots and I felt like a latter day Mary Poppins as I stared out at the back garden with its green green grass. You have never seen a green like that, it's almost cartoonish in color.
The first floor was lounge, entrance hall, kitchen with a loo off it, which was a little odd. Then carpeted stairs from entry hall to first floor where there was a family bathroom, 3 bedrooms, one with an incongruous shower and basin in it. I found out Chris, Tommy's Mother, often rented that bedroom out to exchange students from Germany and France. It just seemed a bit odd as she herself had no ensuite. Third floor was the aforementioned attic room with its sloping roof and twin beds, and the very necessary loo. No door on it, but we couldn't afford to be modest.
It was 2001 when the first Bridget Jones movie came out. And I was headed for Dublin. On my own, which I loathe. I deliberately hadn't read the book as I wanted to see the Movie. I'd heard a lot about it, read up on the pre publicity in the Sunday magazine. How Renee Zellweger had spent a year working in an office in London so that she could get her " Sloane" accent down pat.
How the people in the office had no idea a famous Texan actress had joined their temping staff. Renee had gained a lot of weight for the role and with her accent and excess pounds was almost unrecognisable. Colin Firth was playing the dishy Mr Darcy ( a blatant copy by the author of the original Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice fame ), And also dishy and not haughty was Hugh Grant as the Big Boss, Daniel Cleaver.
The viewing would be in Dublin, on my own, ( story of my life ) homesick and heartbroken. But that was to come later, much later.
I had been to Dublin before, to meet my Irish fiance's Mother. A lovely woman, a devout Catholic, a widow, naughty Tommy's mother. Tommy the oldest and only son, followed by three talented girls. Tommy had a prick of a father. As only a pious non drinking Irishman can be. Tommy didn't cry when his Father died at 55, suddenly and shockingly.
I did, and lit a candle, was sad all day. Tommy stated just because he had died didn't make him less of a prick and that was that.
He never did shed a tear over him.
Tommy had asked me to marry him early in our relationship and although I agreed and even wore a ring I knew I would never marry him. He drank too much. And although I loved him and always will in a way, he was, is, and will forever be a devoted drunk. He likes it. He loves it. Shy when sober he becomes Mr Saturday Night as a drunk.
Taking off all his clothes is just one of his party tricks.
Tommy had been caught drink driving in Australia. Lost his licence for 19 months. Told the Police he was from Glasgy and when there drank Tennents. He could be pie eyed and still remember his drinks as Tennents is local only to Glasgow and he's never been there in his life. Highly intelligent and yet still with the slither eyed look of the well practiced drinker he used to wander from bar to bar, his gait getting more and more swaying, like a demented Charlie Chaplin, all he needed was a cane to twirl.
After he lost the licence I persuaded him to return to Ireland for a year, to be with his Mother, work, wait out the 12 months at least, slicing off a good part of his 19 months with no licence. His Dad hadn't been dead long and I felt his Mother would love him being home. To my shock he agreed.
He rang me within a month and pleaded with me to come over. His shout, just come. I went.
I should have known things were not going to go well when my baggage was sent straight to Dublin not to Yorkshire. I was having a week with my relatives in Wakefield before Dublin. And I was staying with an elderly aunt who favoured house coats, slippers and giant dresses. I stayed indoors a lot in Wakefield Yorkshire.
My luggage and I finally rejoined a week later and I can't tell you the relief I felt.
Tommy was on his best behaviour when his Mum and he picked me up from the airport. His Father had worked for Aer Lingus all his life and in honour of him I caught an Aer Lingus flight from Leeds for the short trip to Dublin. Snacks were a packet of peanuts and a drink of sparkling mineral water. I barely had time to rip the packet of nuts open with my teeth before the green fields of The Emerald Isle were beneath us.
He hadn't been drinking at all he told me and the back of his Mothers head nodded in agreement as she drove through the hectic traffic from the airport to Palmerstown where her house was. I loved her house. A three story house with an attic bedroom where we would stay, complete with a shower and toilet. A Dormer Window looked out over rooftops of tile and chimney pots and I felt like a latter day Mary Poppins as I stared out at the back garden with its green green grass. You have never seen a green like that, it's almost cartoonish in color.
The first floor was lounge, entrance hall, kitchen with a loo off it, which was a little odd. Then carpeted stairs from entry hall to first floor where there was a family bathroom, 3 bedrooms, one with an incongruous shower and basin in it. I found out Chris, Tommy's Mother, often rented that bedroom out to exchange students from Germany and France. It just seemed a bit odd as she herself had no ensuite. Third floor was the aforementioned attic room with its sloping roof and twin beds, and the very necessary loo. No door on it, but we couldn't afford to be modest.
