Our life at home was now centred around the babies. We were now a complete family suddenly of four different individuals each with their particular quirks. Jill who previously had been a bit bored without a job, now had her hands full breast feeding and coping with two demanding young souls. For me to see her so radiantly happy taking all the new routines in her stride, here miles from civilisation, gave me a great sense of fulfilment and joy.
Here with a loaf of bread beneath the Bough,
A flask of wine, a book of verse and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness-
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.
To help her we engaged a Tamil nanny called Lourdes, a Catholic who was always dressed traditionally in a sari. She was a very kind and extremely capable person, very precise and particular in everything she did, but she only rarely smiled and was rather reserved in her manner. Another slightly off putting habit, was that whenever she had a flu or even a bad headache she would rub her hair with and also eat copious quantities of garlic. Fortunately with the warm climate and everything open, her aroma at these times was not so off-putting as could be imagined in England. As the weeks passed the twins would spend most of the morning in just a light vest and nappy under the dense shade of the flamboyant trees in front of the bungalow. For company we also were lucky that just as the twins were born, a very nice young couple Penny and David Perkins arrived at Gampaha only a few miles away up the hill. Penny and Jill struck up a close friendship which survives to the present time as they always love chatting together and have a natural empathy. It was quite impossible with the small babies to go to our bungalow at Trincomalee which we let out to a Major in the Royal Marines, Reg Burton with his wife and three young teenage girls. They were a charming couple and would often visit us at Hugoland and we in turn would stay with them in Trinco when the children were a bit older. Reg was in charge of the ammunition stocks at the naval base, and had a program for testing the cordite to see that it was safe for use in an emergency and had not naturally deteriorated. Later he was to become an expert on nuclear weapons and work for British Nuclear Fuels. At Plantain Point we would sit all together in the evening and then sharp at 8.30 he would say to the girls: “ Come on now its bedtime”. Immediately they would get up without any demur and say goodnight. I said to him:
“ Reg , your daughters are remarkably well trained they are a real credit to you!”
“ Funny you should say that because only yesterday another officer was here and he accused me of being the coldest and most callous sod on the base, in the manner that I had trained the girls. But it is not like that at all. We do everything together; we rise early and when they they are not at school they play tennis first thing in the cool and later when I am off duty we are all off as a team, skin diving , or fishing etc. We are always on the go. But bedtime is bedtime, with no arguments. Others I know equivocate, and give in, and the kids plead and eventually it all ends in tears, unhappiness and frayed tempers. Correct discipline makes for happiness all round with no unnecessary arguments believe me”. Under Reg was a Sergeant Major called Roberts who also used to come up to Hugoland for a weeks leave. He would arrive with a case of Gordons Gin from the Naafi priced at 8 shillings a bottle, and by the time he had left a week later there was hardly anything left for the house. He too would sit under the cool shade of the flamboyant tree with his gin and tonic in hand, a book , and with his glazed eye would look at the twins on their tummies asleep and say:
“Today its Mothers milk, but Mike believe me before you can hardly say the word “ice” they will be on their G & T’s!”
As the twins got older Janet was every day prettier and more perfect in her features. She was absolutely adorable. Peter was very much the boy and on occasion as stubborn and difficult as one could imagine. Yet physically he was always stronger and tended to do everything first, whether sitting , crawling or later walking. He was exceptionally lean and wirey, but he also had a disconcerting habit of rocking himself on his knees back and forth against the end of his cot, in an automatic repetitive manner. So much so that we were both very concerned and would place a pillow at the end of the bed so that he did not vibrate and damage his brain. I was very worried about this behaviour but there was nothing one could do apart from having his cot end well padded, as he did it unconsciously in a semi sleep. It was only after about 2 years of age that he eventually grew out of the habit. In November the monsoon came with the damp misty weather, and then there was the problem of drying all the cotton nappies. We would take them up in a basket to the factory in the late afternoon, sometimes up to 40 of them, and place them on a rack in front of the open door of the tea drier blowing hot air to wither the leaf, spread in the upper floors on nylon tats. I used to laugh and say that the aroma from the nappies improved the flavour of the tea and helped us get better prices! The north east monsoon that year was exceptionally severe with fairly heavy rain throughout November and December which was useful for the first young tea clearings that I was opening up with cuttings. In January I had to go to Colombo on a business trip by myself, and I started the 5 hour back in the late afternoon with the first spots of rain starting, and then most annoyingly, my windscreen wipers packed up. But I was already well on my way and drove slowly through sheets of rain which became ever harder pounding the roof of the little car. It was night-time when I drove up the steep sided Haputale Pass with cliffs towering 1,000 ft above.. All around boulders were rolling down crashing onto the road ,and with no wipers and only my dimmish headlights I drove in between them, praying that one would not roll down and sweep away or just crush the car. But I got through, and safely arrived at Bandarwela Hotel where I telephoned Jill to tell her I was alright and would be back in an hour. Once more I drove off in the pouring rain but only three miles on I found the road totally blocked by a gigantic land slide. So I turned round and headed back to Bandarwela and from there drove along the ridge of the hills past Aislaby Estate, through a roaring flood over an Irish drain which fortunately did not wash away the car until shortly after I arrived at my friend Ian Ritchie’s house at Ettampitya. He had gone to bed, but I woke him up and he fed me on a fine dish of home made ham, washed down with plenty of Lion Lager beer. Ian was notorious for his stinginess and when I helped myself to a can of tinned peaches from his larder he was cross.
“ I keep those for an emergency” he grumbled.
“Well this is one”, I replied as I tucked in!
