Two days of our holiday. July 28. We were in Kent, visiting family, when Lizzie gave me the opportunity to do my own thing. I took the chance with both hands. A quick search online to find the phone number, a deep breath and call. Hugh and I were best mates at secondary school and then started our apprenticeship at a printing firm at the same time. I moved on from that job in 1980; Hugh stayed there. We hadn’t seen each other for 46 years!
“Hello, is that Hugh? It’s Paul Cook here.”
“Bloody hell! Paul Cook.”
We agreed to meet up at a cafe at the top end of Hythe High Street, while Lizzie was at the bottom end of the High Street seeing her step-mum.
I waited nervously. Not knowing quite what to expect. And there he was. A firm handshake. Food and drinks ordered. And then we reminisced… for two hours. My opening gambit was to tell him that I was brought up in a strict, religious family. He had no idea. I must have hidden it well. But then it came out that he had three siblings, when I thought he was an only child. And so we talked…
About our time at Headley’s, about the years that followed. I suspect I talked more, but he didn’t seem to mind. Our story as a family is full of twists and turns, deserts and forests, lush landscapes, all intertwined. He wanted to talk about my blog, which we did, and then continued to talking about my Papa, the God I have discovered over the years, back and forth, three steps forward, two steps back. It was a wonderful two hours, of reconnecting, understanding each other better than we ever did before.
As the conversation drew to a close Hugh said, “You should write a book.” “Sod off!” And then explained that he was now the fourth person to nudge me into writing a book. So I have started. It’s hard work, but very therapeutic. As for my old mate and I… I think we will meet up again. I realised afterwards that I hadn’t talked about Thailand!
Three weeks on, and we were on holiday in Shropshire. We wanted to visit a Victorian Town which is part of the IronBridge project. Little did I know. We had a great day out, and were just working our back through the streets of this town and found the printers – a working printers as they did in victorian times. As we stepped in, I froze. It was as if I had been transported back to those early days at Headley’s. The man working in there, was talking to an older couple about how things worked. As he neared the end of his conversation, I chipped in: “I used to do this stuff when I started an apprenticeship back in 1975. The man behind the counter, doffed his cap in recognition of a fellow craftsman. It was a very special moment. One I won’t forget in a hurry.
There is no moral to the story, no pearls of wisdom. Except to say, I’m no longer afraid of my past. At least, until the next time.
Two hours which possibly were the most enjoyable and interesting of the glorious summer. So refreshing to catch up with someone who was ever present in what were my development years, from a very young scared first year at Ashford North School for Boys through to my spotty teenage years and early adult.
Now as a far more mature man at the ripe old age of 67, I see life with a completely different perspective. The one thing that remains constant is my thoughts on Paul’s ‘Great Papa’, even during Mr. Turnbull’s classes at school, I had a great interest with the whole process in the celebration of this man that people believe in and whom believe is looking down on us and protecting them, for me the jury is still out. For me the main contributor to how my life pans out is ‘fate’ not ‘faith’.
There really is no need to be afraid of your past, the past is something (chapters of your life) that make you the person you are today, and from what I saw, that is somebody that should be proud of their achievements in the way they have dealt with all that life has thrown at them.
As for being nervous on meeting again after so many years, I am baffled as to why. Your ‘Papa’ would not have put you in that position if he thought you would not cope or for that matter I might have turned out to be devil reincarnated to meet and give you a hard time.
I look forward to reading the book, I know a great printer (Amber Print Services) who will assist in the production and distribution, whether it be one copy or 100,000 copies. As for the future, don’t wait another 46 years until we meet again, by my reckoning we will both be in a coffee shop in heaven by then!
LikeLiked by 1 person