The Gap house held such wonderful memories for us kids. It was home to so much of our growing up experiences. Sadly, the house itself took a heavy battering at our hands. Mum had initially selected some beautiful paint colours and contracts to attractively present her new special home. The only problem was that the fibro walls tend to cave in rather easily to the occasional obligatory head butt from one of the boys. It did not take long, for our resourceful mum, to completely cover the entire house with wallpaper in an attempt to conceal any of those little dimple blemishes caused by one of her over vigorous sons. I remember so well the times, when all of us, with our faces against the glass, watched as mum and dad left for their monthly trip to the Gideons meeting at Lismore. No sooner had that EJ Holden disappeared around the corner on the far hill, than it was on. Every kid for themselves. Most games created on these nights, centered around being hurt in some way or other, and usually at the hand of big brother David. One particular game I recall, involved mum’s fine needle collection and some light white cotton thread. Now the study of aerodynamics was a new science to me in those days but boy could you get some distance and flight time from this airborne missile as it headed for the unsuspecting posterior of the targeted sibling. Oh the whoopings and wailing that would follow a direct hit just made it all the more special. Well this game went on for quite a while. I remember seeing Tom rush past at one stage with a shinny metal object and a surrounding white cotton coil sticking out of the top of his head. David was close behind in hot pursuit, more intent on retrieving his weapon for a follow-up throw than with any concern for Tom. Now mum and dad had chosen a house design from Jennings that included a long hallway running the full length of the house. This was invariably used as the race track that provided the opportunity to pick up a little bit of speed especially if you were running away from bulls-eye Dave. Well, on this one occasion, Tom was running away from deadly aim Dave from one end of the house whilst I thought that I was also running away from literal, pain-in-the-bum Dave from the other end of the house. Now I don’t know why mum put that floor to ceiling heavy curtain in the middle of the hall, but it is there that Tom and I both come together like a pair of crash test dummies. Being the smaller brother, it again vindicated a theory of physics that if two objects collide then the smaller object will be recoiled back through the air and into the thin fibro wall. Game over! Well we all knew the drill from here. I went straight to dishers, Tom and Pip to clean the house and David to wallpaper patch and glue. It was then straight to bed with lights out before those who can inflict much pain came home. With eyes shut tight and blanket pulled up to the nose and ears on radar alert for the sounds of the approaching doom – it was just impossible to sleep. We knew the routine – we knew the words – Oh what a lovely clean house and kitchen chumly mum would say as she would turn on the lights and reveal David’s perfect, but unfortunately – still damp, patch of wallpaper. Oh, chumly look they have gone through the wall again. Don’t move! Don’t even think of moving! Just make it through one more sleep and tomorrow all will be forgotten, as the wallpaper dries and conceals the damage caused by another night of fun and mayhem – at the Baskervilles
