The Lord Newry regulars (see ‘Banned from the Woodyard’, p. 18) certainly had some history about them. One was an old bloke called Ernie, who by the time I got to know him looked like Billy McMahon’s grandfather. Ernie was in his nineties and had big eyes and two enormous ears which must have continued to grow after the rest of him had started to shrink.
Ernie was so old he’d been a hansom cab driver in Brunswick Street as a lad.
Ernie loved a beer and would pop in most days as the Newry was early on his list of chores for the day.
Ernie was a busy man who knew almost everyone in Fitzroy and North Fitzroy and was always keen to catch up with every one of them at their individual pubs.
One day he was particularly downbeat when he dropped in for his first beer and told me that his best mate up at one of the other pubs had passed away, which left a bit of a hole in Ernie’s routine. But, not for long.
When the bloke’s will was read the relatives were horrified to find he had left an undisclosed sum in the care of the publican of his favourite pub and it was to be used to buy Ernie his beer every day.
Ernie was delighted and would check in each day and enjoy a shout from a dead mate.