1979 was an oddly fragmented year.

August brought a fall in a mad dash to win the father’s race in the local community sports in Belgrave Square, inflicting a serious shoulder dislocation which demanded a great deal of physical healing.

Then, in the third year of my second spell as the Deputy Head of the European Commission’s Office in Dublin, I had reached cruising speed where my professional responsibilities were concerned. I had time available to begin thinking again about political and other interests.

With European Parliament elections scheduled for June, I had requests for help from both the European Progressive Democrat group secretariat, a group made up essentially of Fianna Fáil and Gaullist members of the Parliament, and from the Head of Office of Fianna Fáil itself. I was specifically told by each secretariat not to tell the others what I was doing, and neither seemed capable of using anything I contributed. An inevitable result of this experience was my recognition that there was a new generation of Party activists who had little or no connection with or interest in the Sean Lemass/Tommy Mullins way of seeing and doing things, which was my way of doing things.

When, as polling day neared, Alan Dukes, Deputy Chef de Cabinet to Commissioner Burke, obtained a Fine Gael nomination to run as a candidate, there was immediate speculation as to who might fill his place, if only on a temporary basis for the period of the campaign.

Given the positive way in which my working relationship with the Cabinet had developed, and given my growing conviction that the Commissioner’s initial staffing decisions which eliminated any Cabinet continuity were a mistake, I decided to raise with the Commissioner the possibility that I might stand in for Alan Dukes. To my delight and satisfaction this overture was accepted. It was of course greeted with some amazement and disdain by some previous colleagues both within the Commission and in Fianna Fáil.

My six weeks in Brussels – Alan Dukes was not elected – were of considerable interest and contributed to my assessment that to work for the Commission at Headquarters is much more demanding and satisfying than to work for it in a Member State Office. They added weight to Anne’s and my growing conviction that, if moved from Dublin by the Commission’s staff policy of rotation, we would be ready to go.

The projection of economic growth on which the Fianna Fáil economic manifesto of 1977 had been premised did not materialise and the government of Jack Lynch found itself facing a deteriorating and depressing situation in terms of unemployment, debt and inflation. I felt extremely frustrated that the government seemed to be either blissfully unaware of or did not wish to acknowledge growing popular discontent. Given that the government had such a strong position in the Dáil and was so early in its mandate I never understood why there was no policy U-turn.

Partly because I felt I could find the time, and partly because I thought I should try to learn something of economics, given that a lot of my cabinet and Party work had been economic in its focus, I decided to apply for the two-year M.Econ.Sc. course offered as a joint evening course by TCD and UCD. I was accepted and found the lecture and project part of the programme relatively undemanding. For the first term, life was complicated by the heavy programme of physiotherapy and exercise which had to follow my shoulder dislocation.

In 1979 Patricia was eight and Justin was eleven. Both had already become very definite personalities. Patricia was warm and soft and enjoyed the structured life of a school with a uniform. Although not well built for sport she wanted to try everything and loved team games. She had her grandparents’ ear for music, was learning the piano, and sang Christmas carols with Florence.

In contrast, all Justin’s instincts rebelled against study and uniforms. He knew that there would be no rules for behaviour covering all cases and wanted to test every exception to its limits. He had no time whatsoever for sport and games. His curiosity was insatiable, particularly where electricity and gadgets were concerned. His waking hours never seemed to fit into the pattern of anyone else’s waking hours, whereas once Patricia was ready for bed, that was that, she was gone.

Justin also had his own sense of humour, of mischief and of initiative. He was afraid of nothing. Already he was known among the neighbours as the little boy who had run across the road with a fire extinguisher to put out a fire in the garden of the house opposite, and as the genius who had succeeded one night in projecting our wedding transparencies from his bedroom window so that they were screened, as in an outdoor cinema, on the gable end of the house at the end of our back garden.

Happily, both children were clearly healthy and intelligent. Looking after them and trying to guide their talents was extremely demanding as their strongest skills and interests were in areas where Anne and I were weak! Music, mathematics, computers. By and large Patricia and Justin respected each other and got on well as brother and sister.

Justin’s jagged edges were offset by the great charm he seemed to have inherited from his maternal grandfather. A difficult phase of the family’s return to Dublin had been eased by ideas from “The Practical Parent”, particularly the idea of trying to make decisions affecting everyone in the family by consensus achieved through family council meetings, structured with an agenda and in which everyone acted in turn as the Chairperson. Of course, at first, Patricia thought she could not possibly chair a meeting. But, with help, she quickly saw what was involved and learnt to negotiate bilateral deals with Justin about choices of television programme and so on.

Justin’s intelligence and hyperactivity made the question of his secondary schooling a difficult one. As both Anne and I had had good experiences of boarding school and Anne felt it might prove impossible to manage both children through a day-school education, even if we had not already foreseen the possibility of career rotation becoming part of my professional life, we were favourably disposed to the idea of Justin going to boarding school.

We researched the Irish situation, particularly the Quaker-managed Newtown School in Waterford, and through Philip Jacob of Monkstown Meeting we met John Gray, the Headmaster of Bootham School in York. With Justin and Patricia we visited Bootham and had a look at the city’s other famous Quaker girls’ school, The Mount. Both had better facilities than most Irish schools and the Bootham junior school was particularly distinguished by a system whereby boys were free to programme their own spare time hours provided the programme was agreed with the housemaster the day before. Given that the school had a good swimming pool, excellent accommodation, including a computer room, an observatory, and a photographic dark room, and given also that sport was not compulsory, Bootham looked as good a boarding option for Justin as Anne and I seemed likely to find.

Justin himself seemed open to the idea and Patricia could see herself in due course taking her place in The Mount, like a girl in an Enid Blyton adventure.

Thus the great decision of 1979 that Justin should go to Bootham School.

I travelled with him and the inevitable baggage by mailboat and train. He was barely up to the journey because of a heavy cold and I was handicapped by my dislocated shoulder, which still gave me a lot of pain and needed my left arm supported in a sling. While Justin was cheerful enough and went whistling up the stairs to his dormitory, as I turned to leave him I was unable to hold back my tears.

I made my way down Bootham, the street and city gate after which the school was named, to stay overnight at the Dean Close Hotel before making my way back to Dublin early the following morning.

Read more: 1980 – Charles J. Haughey Becomes Taoiseach (coming soon)