“Mick and Lucy were married by Father John Delvany,” said Jack. “The marriage ceremony took place in Matron Margaret O’Neil’s sitting room. I was best man and Phyliss was Lucy’s matron-of-honour. We had drinks and eats after. Most of the hospital staff and railway workers came to their wedding.”
Mick and Lucy lived simply and quietly by themselves without any interference from anyone and were very devoted to each other. Lucy’s patience and silence bothered many visitors.
“They thought she was deaf and dumb because she didn’t talk much in those days,” said Phyliss.
“I got sick of telling them that was the way with tribal women and also that she was very shy when strangers were about.
“The only time I saw her get wild was when she was carrying (pregnant) for your mother Peggy,” said Phyliss quietly.
“Yeah, I remember that time,” smiled Jack. “He forgot to bring some oranges and tinned lambs tongues home for her.
“She banged a pot on the table and swore in Mardu Wangka, her own lingo. I don’t know what she called him. Well I never seen that Irishman move so quickly.
“‘Sorry, dear, I forgot,’ he said sheepishly and he hurried down the road to the store.”
Their relationship was truly established; their marriage flourished with few demands made on each other, which resulted in less pressure and tension. They accepted each other for what they were. They never tried to change or act out roles, and they never got on each others nerves. Mick often said, “You can’t expect respect and tolerance from others if you have none yourself.”
Despite her husband’s reputation as a pugilist who violently thrashed the daylights out of abusive, insulting and offensive men, he never showed any violence towards Lucy.
Although she was not demonstrative with her affection for her husband—the embracing and touching, the natural displays of love—her facial expressions and smiles said all. Her emotions were not suppressed but merely simmering under the surface, and remained hidden from prying eyes. This was yet another aspect of their unique relationship and a new quality Mick Muldune saw in his young wife to whom he vowed “to love and cherish, until death do us part”.