Back at the estate we now had to start to settle into the humdrum of day to day married life. Father had arranged to make his home at Plantain Point in Trincomalee for the next six months where he could enjoy his fishing and plenty of good company amongst the many service personnel. His intention after that was that he would retire to Turkey where he could enjoy the Mediterranean warmth and be with his sisters Lilian and Lucy and he would build for himself a sturdy seaworthy motor yacht. But the problem of those first few months of our marriage, was that our home was not completely ours. Father would come up for a week at a time every month or six weeks or so. He adored Jill, but at the same time would make the most irritating remarks which upset her. Once never ending friction was when she had produced a lovely meal, which he had thoroughly enjoyed he would say:
“Absolutely delicious I really enjoyed that. The only thing is that if you had added a touch of “this or that” it would be then perfect!” But fortunately most of the time he was away, and in May and June he left the island to go to Turkey for two months to commence his boat building. Lucy his sister had suddenly died of a heart attack and so he took over her house with his sister Lilian adjoining in the same compound, which was a very companionable and yet independent way of life for his old age.
I was very keen that Jill would be able to drive and so be independent of my work on the Estate so as not to be like my Mother who was always housebound or dependant on others. I had paid for her to have her first lessons in England and about a month after we had arrived Father took her to Bandarwela for her test. He sat in the back of the car whilst she drove with the instructor next to her, and constantly kept on saying to him , “You can see what a good driver she is. She has had her lessons in England!” With such unorthodox prompting of course she passed her test straight away. MacIntyre on Downside was my immediate boss and he was as mentioned before, always on the boil, constantly pushing, fighting and quarrelling with everyone. Underneath it all though, he was a very kind and gentle man and a very good friend especially as a calming influence, and a good go-between during some of the fairly traumatic moments that I had with Father at this tricky time at the start of our marriage. He was especially kind to Jill and gave us open use of his tennis court which only three miles up the road was most useful for entertaining week end guests or just going over for an evenings game after which we would have a drink with him whilst he played and entertained us on his grand piano. Mac was forever trying out new pieces, but as he could not read a note of music would always be on the lookout in Colombo or Scotland for piano pieces on the new and expensive Long Playing records. Through Mac, a self educated man risen from a childhood of poverty, we learnt to really appreciate the piano works of Chopin, Grieg, and Schubert to just name a few. His favourite piece was “Carnival” and with a few whiskies he would just play and play and lose himself amongst the melodies. Nowadays self educated and cultured people such as he are hard to find, as increasingly as people make money they tend to drift to the banal, and spend their creative energies and learning time watching on TV a bunch of idiots racing round a Grand Prix circuit to win by a fraction of a second, or some other equally fatuous spectacle. At that time and earlier, the young poor of the outer regions of the UK in particular the miners of Wales and the hardy crofters of Scotland all looked to cultural education as the path to improve their standing, their prospects in life and their self awareness. Now their equivalents play with Game Boys!
Meanwhile Jill was studying basic cooly Tamil to be able to converse with the servants who did not speak English. I was very keen that at least she could speak one local language in case she were ever to break down in an isolated place in the car. She had brought out bacterial starters and rennet from England and started making some very nice cheeses until Dorasamy the kitchen cooly knocked it off the cooker and then they could not be replaced locally. She had started to make women friends amongst the local English planters and especially our closest neighbours, Pat and Susan Fincher about 8 miles away at Welimada Group became very close. Pat was one of father’s last creepers and was a huge individual with a very domineering orthodox but kind manner. He was a phenomenal worker with nothing but the best and the most efficient satisfying him. He had completed his training at Luckland in 1931, and found it impossible to get a billet due to the Depression. So Father gave him a small job as Teamaker at Luckland Factory, a duty that he carried out for six months when he heard that there was a vacancy at Badulla with the Ouvah Ceylon Co. He rose at about 4 in the morning and walked in the moonlight from the factory at 5,000ft, down 3,500 ft to the floor of the Uma oya River, then up the other side climbing to 4,000ft, then down to Badulla at 2,500 ft and finally up to the Group Managers office at Glen Alpin at 4,000 ft a distance of about 15 miles in length but tiring with the heat and the climbs and descents on the minor tracks . Eventually he arrived at the Office looking quite shattered and applied for the job only to hear that it had already been taken up, but his future boss was so impressed with his keeness that he promised him the next available post which he got three months later! Father said that Pat was for ever moaning about the fact that he had missed out on all the excitement of the Great War, and he replied that with all the instability in Germany, he would not have long to wait for another chance, which of course he did and joined the RAF. Susan his wife was very sophisticated, a lover of beautiful things, pictures furniture and was always immaculately dressed for the occasion. They had met in London during the war when Pat had joined RAF Bomber Command and became a Navigator in Lancaster bombers, whilst she was driving an ambulance. She came out with him to Ceylon to life in Uva near Badulla. All went well until late one evening whilst sitting at the Bar of the Uva Club, Wilfred Retty his General Manager started spouting and boasting about his Estates and all his wonderful work. Pat and Susan who were sitting near by had heard enough humbug , and Pat leant back in his chair during a lull in the conversation, and with the place packed with men from the same company, quietly and firmly said:
“Wilfred you are quite the most pompous stuck up prig that I have ever seen. For God’s sake shut up and give us a break from all your wonders and let us all get on and enjoy ourselves without having to be bored listening to all your claptrap” First there was a deathly silence as everyone listened to the biggest planter of the area being cut down to size in front of all. Then the counter blast from Retty:
“ Fincher I have never been so insulted. You are sacked with immediate effect and I will do my damnedest to see that you never ever get another job in Ceylon. Pat cleared out of Cullen Estate and told Father what had happened and he in turn got him a month later the job at Welimada Group where he was a director running about 1,200 acres, a far better position than he had before!
