This is the story of Paddy's adventures after he was forced to leave Ireland, partly through his own bad temper and partly through the bullying attitude of a Garda [police officer] who felt he needed to show his authority.
As I sat with paddy in his mobile home, both of us sharing a bottle of Irish whiskey, he would reminisce about his adventures after leaving Ireland. He would tell me of the distrust he had for all Englishmen, before he left Ireland, and how an Englishman became his sidekick and probably saved him from a life of crime.
Paddy would say "I'd never allowed anybody to insult an Englishman in my presence"
The only person Paddy really missed when he left Ireland was his Mother. Paddy's mother hoped and prayed that he would come home one day; she would change the bedclothes every week and would say to me. [I was a child of 10 years]
"This is paddy's bed and one day he will come home"
His mother died 18 years from the time he left Ireland. Paddy returned home 25 years from the date of his departure. The house where he was born now belonged to a stranger, Paddy now had no home, no friends, but one man came to his rescue.
The man that employed him over 30 years previously gave him his job back, supplied him with a quarter-acre site with a mobile home and said "This is your home for as long as you live"
Paddy outlived his employer by many years; he's now having his adventures in Heaven/the Universe, or whatever you might believe. I hope I did justices to your stories Paddy, and to quote one of your own 'toasts' "May your soul be in Heaven before the Devil knows you're dead"
