Happily Ever After
Not the next thirty one years, don’t worry…
Independence day (part one) & The Big Day (part two) are the first installments of this wonderful story
The cottage was wonderful. Ryan and I were installed in the master bedroom, and Andrea and Julian had the two smaller rooms.
Andrea’s gift to us was a meal at the lovely and expensive restaurant at the bottom of the hill. We talked her and Julian into accompanying us – as we said, we had a lifetime of evenings alone together ahead of us. Unfortunately it seems that was an argument that only worked once – perhaps because the prospect of cooking didn’t appeal to either of them.
This link takes you to the place as it looks now – LINK
It was beautiful and peaceful after the bustle of Liverpool. Walking back up the hill to the cottage after our meal, the bickering started.
Ryan and I wanted to play bridge. Andrea and Julian insisted that we should go to bed. Enjoy our wedding night in the traditional manner. We argued and argued but it was no good. And I still have regrets. There’s been a distinct shortage of bridge in our lives over the years – we had to give it up because it was just too hard. We couldn’t play against each other as it became too competitive, and we couldn’t play on the same side, because we are both impulsive and would have ended up killing each other, and worse, losing embarrassingly often.
Of course, I do now understand that I was being insensitive and selfish. It wasn’t our fun they were worrying about at all.
Our countryside idyll was soon over though – we had to go back to Liverpool to sort out our move.
Everything we owned was still in the Hall of Residence, and Andrea helped us pack and drove it over to the little house we had rented in Wavertree. It was a redbrick terrace – two up and two down, with a bathroom out in the back yard – but it was cosy.
Mr Chen, the landlord, was rather a strange man. The week before he had tried to sell us the house, suggested we persuade our parents to part with a thousand pounds. A bargain, he said it was. We refused – even if we’d had any chance of extorting cash from family, that wasn’t what we’d have spent it on.
Andrea drove off, and we sat looking at our boxes in the tiny living room, when there was a gentle knock at the front door. It was the elderly couple from next door – we’d seen them a couple of times but never spoken to them.
“We’ve just come to say goodbye,” they said. “We’re moving tomorrow.”
Well, that felt a little strange.
“Where are you moving to?” I asked, politely.
“Oh, we’re all being rehoused on the new estate. Where are you going?”
“We’ve only just moved in,” Ryan said.
We were beginning to think something wasn’t quite right.
“The demolition starts next week,” the old lady said. “We thought perhaps you might not know.”
Her husband, “You didn’t buy the house, did you?” said the old man. “He’s a right one, that Chen. Been trying to sell it for weeks, he has.”
We had paid a week’s rent in advance though – that was bad enough.
Next day we moved to Hope Street. Most of our friends had gone home for the summer, and we were welcome to stay as long as we liked. But we didn’t like – we wanted to live on our own. We went straight to the student accommodation officer and told her our story, and she took pity on us and found us a place in student married accommodation – a lovely flat overlooking Liverpool city centre, a stones throw away from Uni, and just about (if you hung out of the window) a view of both the cathedrals. A tiny bathroom, and even tinier kitchen, a largish hall with a big airing cupboard and storage space, and a fair sized bed sitting room. It was hundreds of times nicer than the house – the only difficulty being the single beds… They weren’t a problem – once we tied them together.
So the following Monday we moved again. This time we unpacked everything and settled in, and stayed there a whole year. That week I started reading Ryan’s science fiction collection – what else did I marry him for? I read the first three books in the Dune series, and he cooked all our meals. I’m still reading, but over time in sheer self defence, I have taken over the cooking. There are only so many times you can eat pork and cabbage, or wait four hours for spag bol.
I suppose surviving that stressful week was at least a kind of warning for what was in store in the future. More importantly, it showed very early that even though we were incredibly young, we did choose well. We coped with everything together and with good humour. I may get a little loud and stressed while Ryan specialises in annoyingly laid back – but we both tend to find the funny side.
Thirty one years later, and I still know that marrying Ryan is the best thing I ever did. He’s still my best friend, we still talk about everything and anything and laugh and cuddle every bit as much as we did then. I am truly blessed 
About Ann GodridgeAnn Godridge has just completed her first crime novel, The Mermaid's Shroud, and has started work on the sequel. Her story the Tree of Knowledge was shortlisted for the Asham Award. She writes about writing and sometimes about textile arts at her blogStraw into Gold. You can find out more about her here - About Ann G.
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11 Responses to Happily Ever After
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What a great read, a lovely story for spreading over a Sunday. Making marriage work isn’t easy, you should both be very proud I think.
What a great read, a lovely story for spreading over a Sunday. Making marriage work isn’t easy, you should both be very proud I think.
I loved reading this Ann, I read it several times as I was scheduling it
It seems to me you and Ryan have big hearts with a great capacity to love each other as well as forgiving each other. When you are close to someone, you can be their harshest critic, often inadvertently! and they, yours.
So what is your one piece of advice for a successful marriage? I am struggling to make two years here with a bloke whom I have loved for 20 years, it's not easy and a real uphill battle which often makes me wonder – if this was real love surely it wouldn't be so much of a fight for it? surely if it was real it would be easier?
There's just the two of us, which I suspect makes it loads easier. Having children, as you do, is very very hard work, they take a lot of emotional energy – not to mention the physical energy too… That takes a lot more to navigate – and you know your daughters are such lovely girls, all that makes it so worthwhile. And then. like us, you work together as well. Of course it's going to be hard work, though, but that doesn't make it any less real.
And you know, you have a lovely family and spending time with you all is a joy – it feels real to me
For us the first seven years were the hardest…
Seriously. We fought the whole time, real nasty too some of those fights were. Throwing things at each other and everything. It was always about something and nothing. I had a hard time because I was convinced he still loved his first serious girlfriend – and a couple of times, once after we were maried, she made a move to get him back. Not that he noticed, bless him. He doesn't do hints – and I didn't tell him
Mostly we were both strong minded and we both wanted to win… I think after seven years we realised that neither of us were going to. I think we also realised that life's hard enough without making it harder…and we both have very pragmatic streaks. So we decided it was better to be on the same side.
Once you've decided you are staying together come what may, the fights aren't really worth while. We decided that when we fought we were agreed that over the long term it would probably even out at 50/50 – so why not treat each fight the same? So when it's over, it's over. Both equally to blame, and both equally responsible for fixing it.
I suppose our saving grace in the end is that we don't take anything particularly seriously – and it mostly ends in laughter.
I think there's a lot of luck in it too
Happy Anniversary Ann and Ryan, and thank you for sharing your story, I've really enjoyed reading it.
Thanks Maggie
Thanks Carolyn, but mostly I think it's luck. And a chronic inability to take anything seriously…
“Once you've decided you are staying together come what may, the fights aren't really worth while.”
I agree completely, Ann. Many times I wanted to kill Brian (and no doubt he me), but never divorce him. Children are a huge enough issue in a first marriage, let alone a second marriage, so I can imagine how stressful that must be.
It may be a weird detail to pick up on but FOUR HOURS for a spag bol???
Twitter: Linda_Mattacks
They are all weird details….and there's always a story in there somewhere…
Well. Begin at the beginning. Just after I met Ryan he failed his exams and took a year out from Uni before resitting – I only met him at the end of May so it really wasn't my fault, I hasten to add!
So during that time he worked a variety of jobs. Vertical borer in a light engineering factory. As a clerk at the Unemployment Benefit office. And part time he sold these pans…they were terribky expensive, all German engineering – very heavy based stainless steel with a tight sealing lid so that you could do what they called waterless cooking – supposed to preserve vitamins and flavour. And actually, they did work very well.
But Ryan being Ryan, he took them rather too seriously when it came to cooking at low temperatures and didn't make sure the pan full of food had reached a high enough temperature before turning teh gas right down. So effectively he slow cooked it from a cold start… It was delicious – but by that point we were all ravenous so that could be part of how good it tasted!