Chapter Nine: 'Sean's interest in stone masonary.'
Over the following three years, Sean Fanning lived and worked in a place he would never have previously believed possible; Northern Ireland. To him initially, going to live and work there was akin to being asked to join 'The Orange Order', but he managed to swallow his pride and simply prayed that he could suppress his nationalistic views until the job was done. He splashed out and bought himself a motorbike and used most of his spare time when not working, travelling the beautiful countryside. It was a Harley-Davidson model, which had previously been in a bad accident, but had been salvaged, renovated and put back on the road. At the fraction of the cost of a new Harley, which Sean could never have afforded, the purchase of the repaired bike was not one he intended to pass him by.
It was while he was visiting a popular sight in Newry, County Armagh one weekend, that on his way back to Port Rush he passed the ruins of a most unusual dwelling. What had once been a solid rock face had been hollowed out at its base, where a cottage had been built and blended into the rock face behind it. Sean had never seen anything as ruggedly beautiful in his life and it got him thinking about future projects he would like to engage in that took advantage of the natural landscape around us.
Under any other circumstances, one couldn't have dragged Sean Fanning across the border into Northern Ireland even if you'd tied him to two wild horses which had pulled him from Dublin to Derry. However, he would have considered himself a fool had he not taken up the opportunity to be the foreman on a ten-month-long contract out there, working upon the renovation and part restoration of a stately home in the area of Port Rush. The work paid well, but more important than that, Sean was able to indulge his architectural interests in viewing the many dwellings and other artistic sites and buildings that the North had to offer. In many ways, it pained the Fenian that the North seemed to offer far more natural beauty spots than his beloved South. Over the past year, Sean had grown more and more interested in the architectural side of construction, and in particular, what could be achieved if only one possessed the amalgamated skills and craftsmanship of a stone mason and imaginative architect.
It was while he was visiting a popular sight in Newry, County Armagh one weekend, that on his way back to Port Rush he passed the ruins of a most unusual dwelling. What had once been a solid rock face had been hollowed out at its base, where a cottage had been built and blended into the rock face behind it. Sean had never seen anything as ruggedly beautiful in his life and it got him thinking about future projects he would like to engage in that took advantage of the natural landscape around us.
Under any other circumstances, one couldn't have dragged Sean Fanning across the border into Northern Ireland even if you'd tied him to two wild horses which had pulled him from Dublin to Derry. However, he would have considered himself a fool had he not taken up the opportunity to be the foreman on a ten-month-long contract out there, working upon the renovation and part restoration of a stately home in the area of Port Rush. The work paid well, but more important than that, Sean was able to indulge his architectural interests in viewing the many dwellings and other artistic sites and buildings that the North had to offer. In many ways, it pained the Fenian that the North seemed to offer far more natural beauty spots than his beloved South. Over the past year, Sean had grown more and more interested in the architectural side of construction, and in particular, what could be achieved if only one possessed the amalgamated skills and craftsmanship of a stone mason and imaginative architect.
One thing led to another and following his agreement to work on a further three consecutive contracts, for increased remunerations of course, Sean remained in Northern Ireland for almost three years. During this period, one of the projects Sean was employed on was the construction of a state-of-the-art modern-day house. This house wouldn't have looked out of place in the warmer states of the USA, but was most unusual to find in Northern Ireland occupied by a Donnegal millionaire. It was seeing the end product of this modern construction, which convinced Sean that true beauty of architecture lay in the images of the past allied to that of nature, as opposed to the gross contours, design and shape of modern monolithic mansions that existed purely to 'make a statement' of the wealthy owner.
It gave Sean far more pleasure and lasting satisfaction for him to use the power and forces of nature over those of purchased modernity. He obtained tremendous satisfaction using the natural features of a roughly hewn circle of stone, which may have once been used in a flour mill to grind the grain for the bread of centuries earlier than to employ the most up-to-date gadgetry and devices of the 20th Century. Given the choice of what he'd prefer to have on his own property, he would always opt for tradition over that of modernity. He would always choose to have erected some stone eyeglass that told one the time of day or measured the distance between two objects than to have installed some hidden underground parking space in a millionaire's mansion to secretly house a £500,000 racing car.
Whilst working in the North, Sean frequently thought about returning south to Portlaw for a brief visit, but decided against this. First, he wanted to have some serious money behind him before he'd ever consider going back there. One day he intended to return to Portlaw, but when he did, he intended to come back as a man of substance; one who couldn't be so easily ignored. He would be a man backed by the letters of education and with enough skill at his fingertips' command that all the people in Portlaw would at last grant him the respect he felt a Fanning deserved.
He still recalled a plot of land near Portlaw that he had always fancied one day owning. It was off the beaten track and covered around six acres of land that was probably only good enough for grazing sheep and cattle. The land had a derelict property that hadn't been lived in for over twenty years. He had told himself when he was young and dreamed of a future, that one day he would own it and build himself a home there.
He still recalled a plot of land near Portlaw that he had always fancied one day owning. It was off the beaten track and covered around six acres of land that was probably only good enough for grazing sheep and cattle. The land had a derelict property that hadn't been lived in for over twenty years. He had told himself when he was young and dreamed of a future, that one day he would own it and build himself a home there.
Sean was ignorant of the fact that the Fannings held no more sway in Portlaw. He wasn't even aware that his family no longer lived there. He still didn't know about his mother's death or his father's emigration to Australia with three of his brothers; along with the scattering of the other two brothers and sister Teresa in other Irish parts. He wasn't aware that the family home in William Street had long been sold and that nobody by the name of Fanning now lived there. None of this Sean knew.
He had written to his mother on numerous occasions following his prison release, but had not received a reply. The letters had been posted from his last Aylesbury address, but all of his letters had been returned unopened and marked, 'Not here'. He feared that something bad had happened, but couldn't bring himself to confirm it with everything else that was going on in his life. Many a night before sleep, Sean would try to recall the precise image of Portlaw and of his mother during happier years, but his mind refused to move on to any other picture than the last time he'd seen her; highly angry with his father and deeply depressed and disappointed by his betrayal of her and his family.
He had written to his mother on numerous occasions following his prison release, but had not received a reply. The letters had been posted from his last Aylesbury address, but all of his letters had been returned unopened and marked, 'Not here'. He feared that something bad had happened, but couldn't bring himself to confirm it with everything else that was going on in his life. Many a night before sleep, Sean would try to recall the precise image of Portlaw and of his mother during happier years, but his mind refused to move on to any other picture than the last time he'd seen her; highly angry with his father and deeply depressed and disappointed by his betrayal of her and his family.
A month before Sean's Irish contract ended, he jumped on his motor cycle and drove down towards Portlaw. The distance was just short of 280 miles and it took around four hours to get within spitting distance of his home town. He stopped in Carrick-on-Suir, some ten miles away from Portlaw. When it came to doing it and breaking with his demons, Sean couldn't bring himself to travel the last ten miles and go back to his home town of Portlaw.
He called into 'The Carraig Hotel' for something to eat and a glass of Guinness. Whilst there, he bumped into Bridie Low, a woman now in her thirties whom he had known as a teenager in Portlaw. Bridie had lived four houses down from the Fannings. She had always been one of the bonniest colleens in Portlaw and all the young lads fancied her, but she had a horrible mouth on her. It wasn't disfigured or misshapen or anything bad like that; it was just the speed it moved. When it engaged her tongue, Bridie could talk the hind legs off a donkey!
At first, upon seeing each other from across the room, Sean and Bridie didn't instantly recognise the other. Each sat at tables no more than four meters apart and their exchanged glances started to stir their memory banks as a growing recognition emerged. The next time both parties exchanged glances, each knew that they were looking at faces from their past.
He called into 'The Carraig Hotel' for something to eat and a glass of Guinness. Whilst there, he bumped into Bridie Low, a woman now in her thirties whom he had known as a teenager in Portlaw. Bridie had lived four houses down from the Fannings. She had always been one of the bonniest colleens in Portlaw and all the young lads fancied her, but she had a horrible mouth on her. It wasn't disfigured or misshapen or anything bad like that; it was just the speed it moved. When it engaged her tongue, Bridie could talk the hind legs off a donkey!
At first, upon seeing each other from across the room, Sean and Bridie didn't instantly recognise the other. Each sat at tables no more than four meters apart and their exchanged glances started to stir their memory banks as a growing recognition emerged. The next time both parties exchanged glances, each knew that they were looking at faces from their past.
Bridie was seated with a man in his late 40s. Their overall contact revealed them to be too close to be unrelated, yet not close enough to be a couple in love. Bridie stood up and approached Sean with a smile on her face.
"Be Jesus.....if it's not Sean Fanning from William Street! Who would have believed it? How are you there, Boyo. It's fair grand to set eyes again on you. It is Sean........ isn't it? Sean Fanning from Portlaw?"
Sean looked up at Bridie. It had been over a dozen years since the couple had met. He still hadn't recognised her apart from now knowing her as being some person from his past. His look betrayed the fact that he hadn't yet fathomed that it was Bridie.
"It's me.............Bridie Low from William Street," she said to nudge his memory, "or to be more precise, Bridie Low that was.........now Brigit MaCann. He likes me to use my proper Christian name. That's my old boy over there. By God, Sean, it's fair grand to see you, Boyo. What's brought you to Carrick?"
"Of course......... Bridie Low. It's good to see you lass. You're the first familiar face I've seen from Southern Ireland for more years than I care to remember. How are you keeping lass?" he asked.
"I'm fine Sean...........real fine. I'd be finer I might add, if I could lose a couple of stone. There's nothing like old age, having four children and a man to keep house for, and a liking for fatty food and chocolates to pile on a woman's weight, is there?" Bridie said smilingly before adopting a more solemn tone of voice.
Bridie was voluptuous in looks and for a moment, it would have been easy for Sean to have forgotten she was married, had her husband not been seated within mere metres from them. As Bridie talked on and on, Sean started to imagine how she had trapped some poor man into marrying her and listening to her rabbit on until the day he died and had his first bit of peace in the grave. Then he looked at Bridie again and thought, 'Yes you can, Sean.'
Looking at Bridie, Sean was gradually beginning to recall how beautiful she had once looked before the babies had come along and the chocolates had started to feature regularly in her daily routine. He could also see that she still held her sex appeal, in a strange sort of way, and as she continued to rabbit on, Sean started to visualise her in a more alluring dress than the one she currently wore. Pink and the puppet character of Miss Piggy came to mind; a combination of gross and gorgeous!
"Be Jesus.....if it's not Sean Fanning from William Street! Who would have believed it? How are you there, Boyo. It's fair grand to set eyes again on you. It is Sean........ isn't it? Sean Fanning from Portlaw?"
Sean looked up at Bridie. It had been over a dozen years since the couple had met. He still hadn't recognised her apart from now knowing her as being some person from his past. His look betrayed the fact that he hadn't yet fathomed that it was Bridie.
"It's me.............Bridie Low from William Street," she said to nudge his memory, "or to be more precise, Bridie Low that was.........now Brigit MaCann. He likes me to use my proper Christian name. That's my old boy over there. By God, Sean, it's fair grand to see you, Boyo. What's brought you to Carrick?"
"Of course......... Bridie Low. It's good to see you lass. You're the first familiar face I've seen from Southern Ireland for more years than I care to remember. How are you keeping lass?" he asked.
"I'm fine Sean...........real fine. I'd be finer I might add, if I could lose a couple of stone. There's nothing like old age, having four children and a man to keep house for, and a liking for fatty food and chocolates to pile on a woman's weight, is there?" Bridie said smilingly before adopting a more solemn tone of voice.
Bridie was voluptuous in looks and for a moment, it would have been easy for Sean to have forgotten she was married, had her husband not been seated within mere metres from them. As Bridie talked on and on, Sean started to imagine how she had trapped some poor man into marrying her and listening to her rabbit on until the day he died and had his first bit of peace in the grave. Then he looked at Bridie again and thought, 'Yes you can, Sean.'
Looking at Bridie, Sean was gradually beginning to recall how beautiful she had once looked before the babies had come along and the chocolates had started to feature regularly in her daily routine. He could also see that she still held her sex appeal, in a strange sort of way, and as she continued to rabbit on, Sean started to visualise her in a more alluring dress than the one she currently wore. Pink and the puppet character of Miss Piggy came to mind; a combination of gross and gorgeous!
"I was sorry for your loss, Sean. You must miss her. Your ma was a good woman. She always looked out for everyone in William Street. I couldn't believe it when I found out she'd died so young and with you being in England at the time and not being able to attend her burial. So sorry Sean. And then............ within a short time afterwards, with your da and three boys emigrating to Australia and the remaining three taking their hook.........the old place at number 14 wasn't the same anymore. It was bought, owned and occupied by a family from Skiberdeen who'd have done better for themselves and Portlaw had they stayed in Skiberdeen! The very first thing they did upon moving into the old house was to pebble dash over that beautiful mural that your da put on the gable end and burn all the curtains that he left hanging there. Oh......and they demolished the old kitchen and built on a newer and larger one in its place! They may have thought that they were improving the old house, but in my eyes it was ruined....never the same old place again!"
"I did hear word of your sister, Teresa though from Mary Halligan's family. They're the snooty ones who always thought themselves better than the rest of us in the street. Remember, they lived at number 9. Anyway, Lucy Halligan went off to join a convent shortly after your sister Teresa became a nun. Her mother told mine that the two of them bumped into each other at some retreat centre near Dublin. Come to think of it Sean, I'm sure that's a first for Portlaw.....having two nuns come from the same street. And your poor mother..........and she dead and in her grave at the early age of 44. They say the good ones pass away on the elevens'.......Jesus himself was 33 at the time of his first passing and wasn't that film star....Marlon something....Brando that's it!.........well, wasn't he said to be 22 years old when he died in a car accident?"
Sean's mind tried to conjure up the image of the three martyrs.
"It was Dean. James Dean, I think you mean..........and he was 24 years old when he died! Marlon Brando's still alive," Sean replied, before it registered that he was being drawn into Bridie's meaningless chitchat.
"I'll remember your ma in my prayers tonight, Sean, God rest her soul. I always bless myself and tib her headstone whenever I visit 'St. Michael's' cemetery to see to my Gran's grave."
Sean's face froze with the mention of his poor mother, having just learned of her death from the garrulous Bridie. Bridie ranted on for nigh on ten minutes and hardly paused for breath.
Sean had been obliged to hear this news of his family from this voluptuous gasbag who had barely dropped one bomb in his lap before dropping another, seconds later. It was all proving just too much for Sean to take in and emotionally readjust to. He felt like puking up. He had to get out of there soon before Bridie dropped any more surprises on him!
He stood up and quietly said, "I'm sorry Bridie, but I must go. I've just noticed the time and I have to be at my next appointment within the hour. Sorry to dash, but it was lovely seeing you again. Say hello to your husband for me and apologise for me running out without introducing myself to him properly. Bye Bridie," he said as he brushed hands with her quickly and left the hotel without glancing back.
Sean's mind tried to conjure up the image of the three martyrs.
"It was Dean. James Dean, I think you mean..........and he was 24 years old when he died! Marlon Brando's still alive," Sean replied, before it registered that he was being drawn into Bridie's meaningless chitchat.
"I'll remember your ma in my prayers tonight, Sean, God rest her soul. I always bless myself and tib her headstone whenever I visit 'St. Michael's' cemetery to see to my Gran's grave."
Sean's face froze with the mention of his poor mother, having just learned of her death from the garrulous Bridie. Bridie ranted on for nigh on ten minutes and hardly paused for breath.
Sean had been obliged to hear this news of his family from this voluptuous gasbag who had barely dropped one bomb in his lap before dropping another, seconds later. It was all proving just too much for Sean to take in and emotionally readjust to. He felt like puking up. He had to get out of there soon before Bridie dropped any more surprises on him!
He stood up and quietly said, "I'm sorry Bridie, but I must go. I've just noticed the time and I have to be at my next appointment within the hour. Sorry to dash, but it was lovely seeing you again. Say hello to your husband for me and apologise for me running out without introducing myself to him properly. Bye Bridie," he said as he brushed hands with her quickly and left the hotel without glancing back.
His head was spinning and he felt giddy by the time he got outside into the fresh air. He went around the back of the hotel and tried unsuccessfully to be sick. His mother was dead; his family scattered to the four winds and a younger sister married to Christ before she'd had any opportunity to try out any other chap first!
Sean momentarily forgot what Bridie had said about her tibbing his mother's headstone and for a moment he envisaged that his father would have buried her with a minimum of fuss before setting off for a life in the Australian sun. He wrongfully imagined his mother buried in an unmarked grave which was now untended.
Sean momentarily forgot what Bridie had said about her tibbing his mother's headstone and for a moment he envisaged that his father would have buried her with a minimum of fuss before setting off for a life in the Australian sun. He wrongfully imagined his mother buried in an unmarked grave which was now untended.
Sean mounted his motorbike and headed straight back for the north and Port Rush. One day though, Sean intended to return and replant his roots in Portlaw. Then, he would visit his mother's grave and seek to have the town re-invest pride in his family's name.
When he next returned to Portlaw, Sean intended to find himself a good Irish colleen and settle down and raise a family; in his own house of course, which he would build with his own sweat and the skill of his own hands. And after he'd built his house, he would protect his land by the construction of a beautiful dry-stone wall around its perimeter that Hadrian himself would have been proud of. This was the fragments of Sean's plan that he now lodged firmly at the back of his mind. It was a plan that would be constantly reviewed by him in his future leisure time. This was now the image he fell asleep to most nights as he completed the building contracts in the Irish North.
When he next returned to Portlaw, Sean intended to find himself a good Irish colleen and settle down and raise a family; in his own house of course, which he would build with his own sweat and the skill of his own hands. And after he'd built his house, he would protect his land by the construction of a beautiful dry-stone wall around its perimeter that Hadrian himself would have been proud of. This was the fragments of Sean's plan that he now lodged firmly at the back of his mind. It was a plan that would be constantly reviewed by him in his future leisure time. This was now the image he fell asleep to most nights as he completed the building contracts in the Irish North.
For three full years, Sean Fanning had lived in and around County Antrim. He'd earned good money and had saved every penny he could put by. As Sean came towards the completion of the Northern Ireland contracts, he had already started to formulate a plan inside his head.
Sean phoned an agent of property sales in Waterford and stated his interest in the possible purchase of the site on the edge of Portlaw that he once thought he might buy for himself when he married. The agent said that he would try to identify the absent owner and get back to Sean in due course, providing Sean left him with a forwarding address.
After tying up all the loose ends in Northern Ireland, Sean returned to the British mainland to receive instructions for his next job. It was to be in Newcastle on Tyne, where he and a gang of thirteen men and two young lads who laboured for the brickies would be asked to go next. The architect hailed from the Newcastle upon Tyne area and would be on hand at all relevant stages of the job.
What interested Sean about this job was the fact that he was now being employed solely as a gang boss instead of a working foreman, and was no longer expected to work alongside the men laying rows of bricks. His new role was to supervise the men, deal with the problems that arose and get the phase of the contract they were responsible for built to specification, on time and within cost. Also, his new position came with increased wages and the realistic prospect of a good bonus if he came in on time and within the budgeted cost. Sean had carte blanche to hire or fire according to his on-going requirements, providing his total expenditure stayed within the allocated budget and the work of the phase which they had been commissioned to do remained within a 36 week time-schedule.
Sean phoned an agent of property sales in Waterford and stated his interest in the possible purchase of the site on the edge of Portlaw that he once thought he might buy for himself when he married. The agent said that he would try to identify the absent owner and get back to Sean in due course, providing Sean left him with a forwarding address.
After tying up all the loose ends in Northern Ireland, Sean returned to the British mainland to receive instructions for his next job. It was to be in Newcastle on Tyne, where he and a gang of thirteen men and two young lads who laboured for the brickies would be asked to go next. The architect hailed from the Newcastle upon Tyne area and would be on hand at all relevant stages of the job.
What interested Sean about this job was the fact that he was now being employed solely as a gang boss instead of a working foreman, and was no longer expected to work alongside the men laying rows of bricks. His new role was to supervise the men, deal with the problems that arose and get the phase of the contract they were responsible for built to specification, on time and within cost. Also, his new position came with increased wages and the realistic prospect of a good bonus if he came in on time and within the budgeted cost. Sean had carte blanche to hire or fire according to his on-going requirements, providing his total expenditure stayed within the allocated budget and the work of the phase which they had been commissioned to do remained within a 36 week time-schedule.
The work involved the dismantling of a large old mill stone-by-stone and the clearance of the site to make room for the erection of a shopping mall that overlooked the river nearby. While the stone mill was being demolished and the site cleared, Sean would need to spend most of his days supervising the task at hand. Phase one of the project would be completed by the fifteen work force after Sean's gang had secured the foundations, erected a huge metal-framed structure that provided the skeleton bones of the building, mounted and bolted steel girders to the metal frames to strengthen the construction and built the brick work up to the ground-floor level.
By the time phase one of the construction had been completed within the 36 weeks window, a Scottish firm who was presently occupied elsewhere in Europe would take over the contract and complete the remainder of the construction. Whilst it was highly unusual to use two construction firms to each complete part of a full construction, the preferred construction firm who had an established track record in this type of project was employed on a European contract in Sweden for the next nine months. So the owners decide to split the work until their preferred firm could take over on phase two of the project and complete the task, as a nine-month delay was totally out of the question for them and their shareholders.
By the time phase one of the construction had been completed within the 36 weeks window, a Scottish firm who was presently occupied elsewhere in Europe would take over the contract and complete the remainder of the construction. Whilst it was highly unusual to use two construction firms to each complete part of a full construction, the preferred construction firm who had an established track record in this type of project was employed on a European contract in Sweden for the next nine months. So the owners decide to split the work until their preferred firm could take over on phase two of the project and complete the task, as a nine-month delay was totally out of the question for them and their shareholders.
Sean's other project, which he planned to engage in, would remain unknown to his employer. This second project would be supervised by him simultaneously to project one and would involve him working alongside a master stonemason and three other local labourers.
After his gang of fifteen had dismantled the stone mill, all the stone would be transported to another work site three miles away by Sean and three labourers that he had hired from his own money. The dismantled stone would then be cleaned by a stonemason and made ready to be re-used in the erection of a new construction. The newly constructed stone building would partly resemble the old one that had been knocked down to make room for the red-bricked shopping mall. Sean wanted it to possess a period look that was in high demand by up and coming executives. This dwelling would eventually be sold on to a discerning customer with money to outlay upon the purchase of such a classic-built house, which retained its original water wheel and 19th century character.
What pleased Sean about this project was the simple logistics, coupled with the belief that for once in his life, he might be able to have his toffee apple and eat it, by being able to complete both projects at the same time. Through the careful division of his attention, Sean reckoned that the old mill could be dismantled, the stone dressed and cleaned and then the old mill rebuilt on the new site with a number of modifications; and all within the 36 week time-period whilst phase one of the shopping mall construction was also being completed. Sean had calculated that most of the stone needed for his project 'on the side' would already be provided from the dismantled building, and which once cleaned, could be reused in the rebuild. Any additional stone would need to be purchased by Sean from a quarry from his own funds.
The very first time that Sean saw the building he would dismantle, he couldn't prevent himself from feeling it to be a crying shame that such a beautiful dwelling would be required to fall so that a monster mall, which represented an economic church of modernity, could instead rise in its place!
After his gang of fifteen had dismantled the stone mill, all the stone would be transported to another work site three miles away by Sean and three labourers that he had hired from his own money. The dismantled stone would then be cleaned by a stonemason and made ready to be re-used in the erection of a new construction. The newly constructed stone building would partly resemble the old one that had been knocked down to make room for the red-bricked shopping mall. Sean wanted it to possess a period look that was in high demand by up and coming executives. This dwelling would eventually be sold on to a discerning customer with money to outlay upon the purchase of such a classic-built house, which retained its original water wheel and 19th century character.
What pleased Sean about this project was the simple logistics, coupled with the belief that for once in his life, he might be able to have his toffee apple and eat it, by being able to complete both projects at the same time. Through the careful division of his attention, Sean reckoned that the old mill could be dismantled, the stone dressed and cleaned and then the old mill rebuilt on the new site with a number of modifications; and all within the 36 week time-period whilst phase one of the shopping mall construction was also being completed. Sean had calculated that most of the stone needed for his project 'on the side' would already be provided from the dismantled building, and which once cleaned, could be reused in the rebuild. Any additional stone would need to be purchased by Sean from a quarry from his own funds.
The very first time that Sean saw the building he would dismantle, he couldn't prevent himself from feeling it to be a crying shame that such a beautiful dwelling would be required to fall so that a monster mall, which represented an economic church of modernity, could instead rise in its place!
Prior to taking this Newcastle contract on and hiring his gang of men, Sean had visited Newcastle upon Tyne to look over the site. He also wanted to make contact with Tony Walsh, a masterstone mason who'd fallen by the wayside over the past few years, but who'd reportedly forgotten more about stone masonry than any quarry man or master mason had ever learned. Finally, he needed to secure the purchase of a suitable plot of land where he would erect his new project that he intended to build on privately.
Sean had also managed to extract a sweet deal with his employers. He negotiated, as part payment of his wage, that he could have the old stone that remained after the old mill structure had been demolished to make room for the shopping mall foundations, and he agreed to pay for its removal from the site. He had also come to an agreement with stonemason Tony Walsh (unknown to his employers of course), to become his partner and to help him build a stone dwelling on a piece of ground he'd purchased. Sean would pay for the labour and when the building had been completed, the overheads discharged and the dwelling sold, any remaining profit would be equally split between Sean and his new partner.
Sean had also managed to extract a sweet deal with his employers. He negotiated, as part payment of his wage, that he could have the old stone that remained after the old mill structure had been demolished to make room for the shopping mall foundations, and he agreed to pay for its removal from the site. He had also come to an agreement with stonemason Tony Walsh (unknown to his employers of course), to become his partner and to help him build a stone dwelling on a piece of ground he'd purchased. Sean would pay for the labour and when the building had been completed, the overheads discharged and the dwelling sold, any remaining profit would be equally split between Sean and his new partner.
Tony Walsh, knew his trade inside out, and indeed would have gone much further in it, had it not been for the demon drink. For nigh on twenty years now, the 58-year-old stonemason, who now looked ten years older than his age, had been confined by the consequences of his alcoholic consumption.
At its worst, Tony would fall off the wagon as frequently as he was on it. Eventually, his pattern of alcoholism moved from one of being persistently drunk to that of him being able to hold down a job. He never managed to stop drinking, but could now go three and four weeks at a time without a drop of alcohol touching his lips. After such an enforced abstinence though, nothing in this world would seem able to prevent him going out on a bender.
His drinking habit had cost him dearly. He'd destroyed his marriage, lost numerous jobs and established poor relationships with his son and daughter. Tony's son had once planned to follow him into the stonemason trade, but he'd long ago given up on the idea, as well as having given up on his dad also. Tony hadn't seen either hide or hair of his children for the past ten years.
Tony Walsh had been prepared to accept Sean's offer of a partnership, especially as Sean seemed prepared to believe in him when he said he could stay dry if kept busy. Upon successful completion of the project, they should each get approximately £25,000 clear profit after the building had been sold, but neither would receive any wages in between. Sean intended to get the three labourers he and Tony required from the ranks of the unemployed, offering them £30 per day cash-in-hand that could be used to top up their weekly dole money. This would save him bothering with the payment of any National Insurance Stamps. He had a bit of money put on the side for this, but in the main, he knew that the wages he earned supervising the other contract (his official work), would have to be used for paying his three casual labourers. In addition, he would need to provide some concrete and material supplies from his own purse; things that he was unable to wangle from the other site.
At its worst, Tony would fall off the wagon as frequently as he was on it. Eventually, his pattern of alcoholism moved from one of being persistently drunk to that of him being able to hold down a job. He never managed to stop drinking, but could now go three and four weeks at a time without a drop of alcohol touching his lips. After such an enforced abstinence though, nothing in this world would seem able to prevent him going out on a bender.
His drinking habit had cost him dearly. He'd destroyed his marriage, lost numerous jobs and established poor relationships with his son and daughter. Tony's son had once planned to follow him into the stonemason trade, but he'd long ago given up on the idea, as well as having given up on his dad also. Tony hadn't seen either hide or hair of his children for the past ten years.
Tony Walsh had been prepared to accept Sean's offer of a partnership, especially as Sean seemed prepared to believe in him when he said he could stay dry if kept busy. Upon successful completion of the project, they should each get approximately £25,000 clear profit after the building had been sold, but neither would receive any wages in between. Sean intended to get the three labourers he and Tony required from the ranks of the unemployed, offering them £30 per day cash-in-hand that could be used to top up their weekly dole money. This would save him bothering with the payment of any National Insurance Stamps. He had a bit of money put on the side for this, but in the main, he knew that the wages he earned supervising the other contract (his official work), would have to be used for paying his three casual labourers. In addition, he would need to provide some concrete and material supplies from his own purse; things that he was unable to wangle from the other site.
Sean and his gang of workers arrived up in Newcastle upon Tyne the weekend before the job was due to commence on the following Monday morning. Sean told his men that they could drink on Friday and Saturday nights only and that if he ever smelled alcohol on any of their breaths during their working week, they'd be sent packing back home without a work reference. The party lodged four miles away from the city centre in the area of Jesmond and they quickly established their water hole at 'The Jesmond Park Hotel,' where they drank in moderation during Monday to Thursday evenings and where they pushed the boat out and partied every Friday and Saturday night. All day Sunday was taboo regarding any alcoholic consumption.
That night Sean tried to initiate contact with stonemason, Tony Walsh, in order to confirm that all was still well for him to start work on the project next week. Part of him feared that the stonemason might have fallen off the wagon whilst deep down, Sean dearly hoped that he hadn't. His entire second project depended upon Tony being his partner and being in a fit state to discharge his stone-masonry skills.
Sean called around to Tony's address in the Scotswood Road area, but found his one-bedroomed terraced house empty. It was 8.00 o'clock on a Saturday night in Newcastle upon Tyne and Sean had a good idea what that meant.
Tony's neighbour, two doors down, had seen Sean knocking and had said, "No chance, me bonny lad. You'll not catch Tony until the pubs close. It's Saturday night tha' knows. It's bevy night! He'll be in th' toon!"
By 'th' toon,' Sean guessed he meant 'the town.'
That night Sean tried to initiate contact with stonemason, Tony Walsh, in order to confirm that all was still well for him to start work on the project next week. Part of him feared that the stonemason might have fallen off the wagon whilst deep down, Sean dearly hoped that he hadn't. His entire second project depended upon Tony being his partner and being in a fit state to discharge his stone-masonry skills.
Sean called around to Tony's address in the Scotswood Road area, but found his one-bedroomed terraced house empty. It was 8.00 o'clock on a Saturday night in Newcastle upon Tyne and Sean had a good idea what that meant.
Tony's neighbour, two doors down, had seen Sean knocking and had said, "No chance, me bonny lad. You'll not catch Tony until the pubs close. It's Saturday night tha' knows. It's bevy night! He'll be in th' toon!"
By 'th' toon,' Sean guessed he meant 'the town.'
Sean had only met Tony on the one occasion, even though they'd kept in letter contact over the past three months. He decided to walk down to the city centre on the off chance of seeing him, although he knew that this possibility was most unlikely. Despite it being only 9pm when he got into town, it was already awash with Saturday night boozers out to either get drunk, get laid, or both if they could manage it! As the night went on, Sean saw more and more fights spreading from the pubs out into the road. He witnessed more and more drunken young men and women puking up in the streets and sidewalks, and got an eyeful of more Newcastle cleavage and arse than he might catch sight of in any local massage parlour!
He had a few drinks which he didn't really enjoy. He would have died for a pint of Irish Guinness instead of that Newcastle Brown rubbish that cost more a bottle here than he could buy by the bucket back home in Portlaw. While Sean didn't find Tony that night, he did take some snap shots of a few of the sights he came across on the way back to his digs. He wanted to try and shock Tony into sobriety at a future date if ever it proved necessary and the opportunity arose.
It truly sickened Sean to see young girls and boys drunk out of their heads and sprawling around the street as though they were prepared to take on all comers who were prepared to get down on the ground and join them. In Sean's youth, one might have occasionally seen a young person tipsy, but in the main it would be a young lad out with a bunch of male friends. As for the drunk, this character used to come unshaven and unkempt and was invariably well past their fiftieth year of life. One never saw them in female form, dolled up to the nines and dressed in garments and shoes which cost more than a week's wage as they rolled around the Saturday night high-street like oestrogenic time-bombs ready to explode at the first touch of their sexual fuse!
Sean called around to see Tony Walsh the following day around Sunday lunchtime. Tony lived along the Scotswood Road in one of the poorer streets that had still to be bulldozed and demolished. The terraced houses were at least forty years overdue for demolition and many of them remained boarded up to prevent vandalism; leaving the remaining ones looking in an apparent worse state of dilapidation than they actually were. He knocked loudly for ten minutes and was just about to leave when he heard the door being unbolted from the inside and then saw it slowly opened on a safety chain. Tony looked like anyone might look the night after imbibing a skinful of beer. Upon seeing Sean stood there and realising that he looked like death warmed up, the stone-mason's face dropped as he sheepishly invited Sean inside.
"Don't be judging me on what you see here!" he retorted before Sean had a chance to say anything. "This is a place where I sleep, and how it looks now has absolutely nothing to do with the quality of my work, so don't go judging me on that!"
"Don't be judging me on what you see here!" he retorted before Sean had a chance to say anything. "This is a place where I sleep, and how it looks now has absolutely nothing to do with the quality of my work, so don't go judging me on that!"
"I'm not here to judge either you or your place. I'm not one to be judging any man," Sean told Tony, "but I must ask you, how long have you been back on the drink? You told me that you were on the wagon and..........I believed that. "
"I swear on the life of my children that yesterday was the first and only day over the past ten weeks and three days that an alcoholic drink has passed my lips," Tony said solemnly. "It's just that...................... Anyway, you have my solemn pledge that I shall refrain from all alcohol every single day from today until our partnership project has been concluded."
"That's good enough by me," Sean added.
Sean walked Tony down to the only remaining shop in his area to buy a packet of fags. Tony said that while he was able to go without drink if he really set his mind to it, he couldn't possibly last without his 'ciggies' as he affectionately called the coffin nails! The old shop was as run down as the area, and apart from keeping its aged owner occupied, it served very few customers and had no other discernible function for being open from morning to night, seven days a week!
Its aged owner was an 89-year-old spinster who smoked a clay pipe and had no friends or neighbours apart from her mongrel dog. The dog was a faithful and obedient hound and it kept guard at the front of the shop door from morning opening until nightly closure. The dog would only allow anyone it knew passed it and inside the shop. The shop owner, according to Tony, hoped to live out her life without being moved into one of those 'sterilised homes' that the council parked old folk in until they buried them. She had been resisting a compulsory purchase order to knock down her premises for the past seven years. Tony told Sean that even had every other person been moved from the neighbourhood, leaving her entirely on her own, she still would have resisted moving out until it was in her coffin!
"I swear on the life of my children that yesterday was the first and only day over the past ten weeks and three days that an alcoholic drink has passed my lips," Tony said solemnly. "It's just that...................... Anyway, you have my solemn pledge that I shall refrain from all alcohol every single day from today until our partnership project has been concluded."
"That's good enough by me," Sean added.
Sean walked Tony down to the only remaining shop in his area to buy a packet of fags. Tony said that while he was able to go without drink if he really set his mind to it, he couldn't possibly last without his 'ciggies' as he affectionately called the coffin nails! The old shop was as run down as the area, and apart from keeping its aged owner occupied, it served very few customers and had no other discernible function for being open from morning to night, seven days a week!
Its aged owner was an 89-year-old spinster who smoked a clay pipe and had no friends or neighbours apart from her mongrel dog. The dog was a faithful and obedient hound and it kept guard at the front of the shop door from morning opening until nightly closure. The dog would only allow anyone it knew passed it and inside the shop. The shop owner, according to Tony, hoped to live out her life without being moved into one of those 'sterilised homes' that the council parked old folk in until they buried them. She had been resisting a compulsory purchase order to knock down her premises for the past seven years. Tony told Sean that even had every other person been moved from the neighbourhood, leaving her entirely on her own, she still would have resisted moving out until it was in her coffin!
It later transpired in conversation with Tony that the reason for him having taken to the drink again yesterday was tied up with his only daughter's wedding. When his marriage ended ten years ago, his daughter and son remained with their mother, who later moved to the Jarrow area. His ex-wife eventually married a butcher, many years older than her.
For months initially, Tony had tried to get back with his wife, but she'd had enough of his drinking and obtained a Restraining Order from the court. The Restraining Order prevented him going within twenty metres of his ex-wife's person and breach of it would have resulted in him receiving of a prison sentence. With access to his two children being initially denied by a magistrate, Tony eventually did what so many separated dads do, and stopped trying to see them altogether. He found the pain of being refused the right to see his own children unbearable at times..
When his son and daughter entered their teenage years, they blamed their father's drinking for the breakup of the parental marriage. Subsequently, they refused to see their father on access, and their refusal essentially made any application to the Court by Tony utterly pointless.
For months initially, Tony had tried to get back with his wife, but she'd had enough of his drinking and obtained a Restraining Order from the court. The Restraining Order prevented him going within twenty metres of his ex-wife's person and breach of it would have resulted in him receiving of a prison sentence. With access to his two children being initially denied by a magistrate, Tony eventually did what so many separated dads do, and stopped trying to see them altogether. He found the pain of being refused the right to see his own children unbearable at times..
When his son and daughter entered their teenage years, they blamed their father's drinking for the breakup of the parental marriage. Subsequently, they refused to see their father on access, and their refusal essentially made any application to the Court by Tony utterly pointless.
"She sold herself out to a Jarrow meat merchant fifteen years her senior," Tony said angrily to Sean. "It's ironic is life when one thinks about it, Sean, but when all the water's been drained from the cooking pot, what does fourteen years of married life boil down to? I'll tell you! One piece of meat being traded for another piece of flesh. Her old husband died a few years ago and from what I heard, my son now runs the butcher's shop. Anyway, all that was over and passed as far as I was concerned until yesterday. What do you think I discovered? I'll tell ya.............I found out that my lass.......my only daughter, aged twenty four, had got herself wed two weeks ago in Jarrow and never saw fit to let me know. That's what made me take to the drink, me bonny lad. It was either that or to throw myself under a cart, and I'd no intention of giving them the satisfaction. Anyway, as I've said, that's out of my system now and won't disturb me again. They'll be no more drink taken until our contract is complete and we've sold the dwelling. On that you have my word!"
Tony's explanation for his temporary relapse yesterday was perfectly understood by Sean. Talk of Tony's daughter reminded Sean that he was also an absent father. In some ways, his position seemed more unfair than that of Tony's, which could arguably be said to have been a self-inflicted one. Sean wasn't sure which was the most difficult to emotionally adjust to; not having seen one's 24-year-old daughter since she was 14 years of age or never having set eyes on your daughter in her whole life, not knowing her name, what she looks like and how she fares? However he or Tony would have liked it to be, the simple truth was that neither seemed destined to play a future part in their daughter's life!
If only he could have paid five hundred private detectives and had a thousand secret eyes focused on his daughter and be able to monitor her progress as she grew up; if only he could have seen a fleeting image and true likeness of her occasionally, Sean would have found all tortured thought of his enforced separation from the daughter he'd never seen to have been bearable.
Tony's story of his marital breakup and the non-access to his children seemed to make perfect sense to Sean and provided him with an additional reason as to why Tony had been attracted to his proposal initially. Tony was now almost sixty years old and given his alcoholic condition, he was fortunate indeed to be in any type of work. His grown up children had rejected him as their father figure and his son, whom he'd always planned to one day teach stone masonry to, would never now take up the challenge.
When the likes of Sean came along, it must have seemed no less than a blessing in disguise to the alcoholic stonemason. To have found a man, aged around thirty years with a passion to learn all he could about working with stone and architecture must have seemed like a Godsend to Tony, besides being offered a partnership into the bargain. Not only did Sean enable Tony to earn a living doing what he did best again, but he also offered him a chance to regain his self-respect and hopefully provided him with a valuable role and a purpose in life once more. Tony saw Sean as the possible makings of a substitute son, and he welcomed the opportunity he now had to pass on his inheritance to Sean; all that knowledge and skill that his own son had long ago rejected.
The breakdown of Tony's marriage and estrangement from his children had taken away his prime purpose for living and had essentially provided him with the excuse of living and maintaining a life of sporadic drunkenness. Tony saw his partnership with Sean as a 'last chance' to redeem himself; a final opportunity to wipe the slate clean. Tony now had the satisfaction of having a purpose in life once more and of being able to one day die, in the certain knowledge that he might leave something of value behind in any of the stone work that he and his new apprentice would build. To leave behind something substantial that would live on and endure into another century seemed to be ample reward and carrot to take Tony forward in the hope of succeeding. Sean may have started off as Tony's protégé, but unbeknown to him, he would undoubtedly end up as his substitute son!
Sean's capacity to trust Tony in spite of his recent relapse was truly appreciated by the master stonemason, who had promised himself most earnestly that he would not let Sean down and that he would teach his new apprentice everything he knew.
If only he could have paid five hundred private detectives and had a thousand secret eyes focused on his daughter and be able to monitor her progress as she grew up; if only he could have seen a fleeting image and true likeness of her occasionally, Sean would have found all tortured thought of his enforced separation from the daughter he'd never seen to have been bearable.
Tony's story of his marital breakup and the non-access to his children seemed to make perfect sense to Sean and provided him with an additional reason as to why Tony had been attracted to his proposal initially. Tony was now almost sixty years old and given his alcoholic condition, he was fortunate indeed to be in any type of work. His grown up children had rejected him as their father figure and his son, whom he'd always planned to one day teach stone masonry to, would never now take up the challenge.
When the likes of Sean came along, it must have seemed no less than a blessing in disguise to the alcoholic stonemason. To have found a man, aged around thirty years with a passion to learn all he could about working with stone and architecture must have seemed like a Godsend to Tony, besides being offered a partnership into the bargain. Not only did Sean enable Tony to earn a living doing what he did best again, but he also offered him a chance to regain his self-respect and hopefully provided him with a valuable role and a purpose in life once more. Tony saw Sean as the possible makings of a substitute son, and he welcomed the opportunity he now had to pass on his inheritance to Sean; all that knowledge and skill that his own son had long ago rejected.
The breakdown of Tony's marriage and estrangement from his children had taken away his prime purpose for living and had essentially provided him with the excuse of living and maintaining a life of sporadic drunkenness. Tony saw his partnership with Sean as a 'last chance' to redeem himself; a final opportunity to wipe the slate clean. Tony now had the satisfaction of having a purpose in life once more and of being able to one day die, in the certain knowledge that he might leave something of value behind in any of the stone work that he and his new apprentice would build. To leave behind something substantial that would live on and endure into another century seemed to be ample reward and carrot to take Tony forward in the hope of succeeding. Sean may have started off as Tony's protégé, but unbeknown to him, he would undoubtedly end up as his substitute son!
Sean's capacity to trust Tony in spite of his recent relapse was truly appreciated by the master stonemason, who had promised himself most earnestly that he would not let Sean down and that he would teach his new apprentice everything he knew.
In order to thank Sean for having trusted him, Tony planned a little surprise, which would add the final touches to their completed project before it was placed on the market for sale. The river, which ran to the side of the stone dwelling that turned the old water wheel could only be crossed by a bridge about half a mile downstream. Tony therefore planned to acquire and shape fourteen stepping-stones, which would be used to provide immediate foot access from dwelling to the other side of the river. He knew that by constructing a stonewalled damn that didn't alter the water's course, but merely placed it at two levels, the problem could be easily overcome. For eight months, he managed to maintain this surprise and only told Sean at the last moment when its construction could no longer be concealed.
The nine months in the Newcastle upon Tyne area soon passed and both buildings were erected to the satisfaction of all interested parties. Sean had been able to successfully supervise the thirteen brickies alongside his own project. He had completed both projects simultaneously and Tony had stayed off the drink. Partnership with Tony had thrived; leaving the couple with sufficient funds to sink into another future project.
Sean knew from the start of both projects that this would be no mean feat, but he trusted his gang of workers to come through for him. Tony the mason would often need to work a seven-day week, Monday to Friday, mostly without the constant presence of Sean and with three casual labourers under his direction. Saturday and Sunday would be devoted exclusively to teaching Sean the art of becoming a stonemason.
Sean knew from the start of both projects that this would be no mean feat, but he trusted his gang of workers to come through for him. Tony the mason would often need to work a seven-day week, Monday to Friday, mostly without the constant presence of Sean and with three casual labourers under his direction. Saturday and Sunday would be devoted exclusively to teaching Sean the art of becoming a stonemason.
This additional work in Newcastle upon Tyne gave Sean the opportunity to find out more about working with stone; something he had long wanted to try out and one day move into. What better apprenticeship he thought than working alongside one of the best stonemasons in the country and a master mason at that! What better way to learn, than under the tutelage of a master and getting paid at the same time for the privilege!
Over the nine months of the Newcastle contract, Sean moved between both sites, supervising the constructions and ensuring that everything and everyone kept moving. Delays were extremely costly and if the contract went over time in its construction and wasn't completed by the due date, then penalty clauses would become operational and that would involve his employers losing money on the 36-week contract instead of making a profit! In those circumstances, Sean would lose his job, forfeit some of the wages due to him and receive no completion bonus. Get the job done on time however, and everyone would be smiling all the way to the bank.
At every opportunity, Sean improved his hand at stone dressing. Tony found him to be a keen student who displayed a natural touch with the stone he handled, dressed, shaped and fashioned. Tony held back none of the knowledge he had ever acquired and would show Sean how to select a huge stone that was to be sculpted and how to split it perfectly to work on. Sean learned about the many different types of stone to be used in different settings and differing climates. He was shown how to spot weaknesses and flaws in them; flaws as obstructive as a knot in a tree trunk and weaknesses, which could not be easily seen by the untrained eye. Often, the imperfections of a huge stone showed no other indication of being present other than its overall shape. Very importantly, Tony showed Sean all the major strata weaknesses to look out for and at which point to stop chiselling for fear of cracking and breakage if one struck another blow. Learning these things from a true master and stone lover fired Sean's imagination on to new things.
Sean had taken a great financial risk to undertake this additional commitment. Apart from the physical energy required to supervise both jobs three miles apart in distance and to ensure that they were each completed to his satisfaction and on time, Sean had to take out a bridging loan with the bank; the repayment of which fell due in full with interest nine months later! If it all went pear-shaped, Sean knew that he might find himself back in prison; only this time it would be for non-payment of debt and possible fraud for having obtained the loan under false pretences. He also had to hope that his trust in Tony to stay off the drink hadn't been misplaced and that Tony remained true to his word to keep on the wagon until the contract had been completed.
One evening, Sean saw Tony working on a piece of stone long after the others had knocked off work for the day. When he inquired why he was still on site instead of taking his much deserved evening recreation, Tony simply replied, "Stone masonry and the use of a cutter is not only an occupation and skill you know, my bonny lad. It's like whittling or meditation. It stills the mind and numbs the pain."
At every opportunity, Sean improved his hand at stone dressing. Tony found him to be a keen student who displayed a natural touch with the stone he handled, dressed, shaped and fashioned. Tony held back none of the knowledge he had ever acquired and would show Sean how to select a huge stone that was to be sculpted and how to split it perfectly to work on. Sean learned about the many different types of stone to be used in different settings and differing climates. He was shown how to spot weaknesses and flaws in them; flaws as obstructive as a knot in a tree trunk and weaknesses, which could not be easily seen by the untrained eye. Often, the imperfections of a huge stone showed no other indication of being present other than its overall shape. Very importantly, Tony showed Sean all the major strata weaknesses to look out for and at which point to stop chiselling for fear of cracking and breakage if one struck another blow. Learning these things from a true master and stone lover fired Sean's imagination on to new things.
Sean had taken a great financial risk to undertake this additional commitment. Apart from the physical energy required to supervise both jobs three miles apart in distance and to ensure that they were each completed to his satisfaction and on time, Sean had to take out a bridging loan with the bank; the repayment of which fell due in full with interest nine months later! If it all went pear-shaped, Sean knew that he might find himself back in prison; only this time it would be for non-payment of debt and possible fraud for having obtained the loan under false pretences. He also had to hope that his trust in Tony to stay off the drink hadn't been misplaced and that Tony remained true to his word to keep on the wagon until the contract had been completed.
One evening, Sean saw Tony working on a piece of stone long after the others had knocked off work for the day. When he inquired why he was still on site instead of taking his much deserved evening recreation, Tony simply replied, "Stone masonry and the use of a cutter is not only an occupation and skill you know, my bonny lad. It's like whittling or meditation. It stills the mind and numbs the pain."
While the two contracts running side-by-side had not been easy for Sean to supervise, he nevertheless completed both satisfactorily in every major respect. His employer's customer was so pleased that their part of the project had been completed to satisfaction and with two weeks to spare, that they offered Sean's employers the promise of future work. On the other hand, Sean's employers were so pleased with him completing early and within budget that they gave him an extra £2,000 bonus above the agreed sum of £5,000 completion bonus. They also offered Sean the supervision of a much larger project they had in the pipeline, along with a significant pay increase.
Tempted though he was, Sean politely refused the new job offer and indicated to his employers that he intended to return to Further Education, acquire an Open University Degree and the necessary qualifications to practise architecture and go into business for himself. Self-employment was his way to achieving what he wanted out of life, and the completion of this and other projects in stone, along with his continued partnership with Tony Walsh would put him firmly on the road he wished to travel. Until he had got what he wanted, Sean intended to remain completely blinkered as he moved ahead with his eyes fixed firmly on his eventual destination. He couldn't see around the bends or any obstructions that might seek to block his path or slow down his journey, but in one thing he remained resolute; he would eventually reach his goal!
Both he and Tony Walsh deserved better from this life and both seemed determined to get it. They had started to finally believe that they deserved any success to come their way and both refused to live a life of permanent regret a moment longer. They had resolved not to allow their past experiences to harm their future. They had eventually realised that one's past can't be altered and one's future doesn't deserve the punishment!
Tempted though he was, Sean politely refused the new job offer and indicated to his employers that he intended to return to Further Education, acquire an Open University Degree and the necessary qualifications to practise architecture and go into business for himself. Self-employment was his way to achieving what he wanted out of life, and the completion of this and other projects in stone, along with his continued partnership with Tony Walsh would put him firmly on the road he wished to travel. Until he had got what he wanted, Sean intended to remain completely blinkered as he moved ahead with his eyes fixed firmly on his eventual destination. He couldn't see around the bends or any obstructions that might seek to block his path or slow down his journey, but in one thing he remained resolute; he would eventually reach his goal!
Both he and Tony Walsh deserved better from this life and both seemed determined to get it. They had started to finally believe that they deserved any success to come their way and both refused to live a life of permanent regret a moment longer. They had resolved not to allow their past experiences to harm their future. They had eventually realised that one's past can't be altered and one's future doesn't deserve the punishment!
|
Click here for the next page
|
Click here for the previous page
|
