September 1998

Barry’s house under construction (below) – it was to become a much loved home and provided the walls for years of wonderful memories, love and laughs. It was affectionately known as the Pink House (yes the front was rendered in parts and painted a light shade of pink – much to Brady’s gleeful delight). Barry asked Brady and I to move in with him, which after much discussion we did – Brady required assurances that the house would indeed remain pink and that her bedroom could be pink with fairies on the walls.

The company where Barry and I met and worked had just been bought out by one of those American Global Cannibalising Conglomerates.  We were both woo’ed and courted and took on new, more demanding roles with them, myself in European HR (Human Remains) and Barry leading one of their Development Teams.  It meant a lot of international travel for both of us.  For me it was an amazing opportunity from a professional point of view, but of course, came at a personal cost. Brady was now three years old, full of energy, questions and life and I was missing out on it.

My mother came over to the UK in September (and stayed until after Christmas), she stayed at my flat in Dove House and drove my car, (I now had the use of a company car) and took care of Brady for me, whilst I was at work and when I was overseas for work. It was a lovely time for them, they chatted constantly (Mum always claimed Brady was vaccinated with a gramophone needle) and developed a real relationship on their own terms, something which had been hard for them to do up until then, living on opposite sides of the planet. I turned 30 during Mum’s stay (Sept). It was a great time, interesting, busy, full of laughs and lots of love (and frequent flyer points).