The Beginning of the End

"And now for something completely different: humour. In this book, sub-titled ‘The crippling disadvantage of a happy Irish childhood’, Walter Ellis writes with hilarious candour about his Protestant upbringing, education and career in journalism. Among the mix-ups and muddles of early life, he explains the bizarre friendship he fell into with Ronnie Bunting, who was to become chief of staff of the Irish National Liberation Army, a faction that played a significant role in the death and destruction of the Troubles. I was desperately in need of a good laugh after all the gloom and horror to be found in any bibliography of the Troubles, so when this gem was featured in The Sunday Times in 2003 it took me a matter of minutes to get to Waterstones. I was not disappointed. Ellis has wit and humour in spades and the ability to get it on to the page with delicious self-deprecation. Bunting is the dark shadow to Ellis’s story. He had masterminded the assassination of Airey Neave, Maggie Thatcher ’s Shadow Secretary of State for Northern Ireland in March 1979, just five months before my own family was bombed. Here was a book that offered insight into the topsy-turvy life of a notorious killer, himself murdered while still a young man. Ellis paints a picture of their warm friendship, while letting the humorous mask slip for long enough to allow in the dark undertone of sectarian killing with all the disgust it deserves. But even in Bunting’s crime-punctuated life, Ellis finds moments of humour: the suitcase Bunting gives to Ellis to keep for the weekend at his mum’s house later turns out to have the contents of a freshly robbed bank in it. Get the weekly Five Books newsletter I adored accompanying Ellis down the byways of his early life, and relished the laugh out loud stories and his lovely writing. To those not possessed of a happy Irish childhood, the book offers insight, colour and its fair share of shocks. Northern Ireland during the Troubles was evidently both a wonderful and an awful place in which to grow up. It’s up to the reader to decide which was uppermost. I remember the moment I was told Nicky was dead. It was the worst moment of my life. I sensed there and then that either I would get over it in that moment, or I never would. When I realised I had taken my next breath I knew I would survive, and that I would do so all the better for having had 14 years of shared life with him. Later I recognised the truth in something which Norris McWhirter told me about the murder of his identical twin, Ross: ‘It is no good just living in hope that time will cure the hurt… The only plan is to double rather than halve one’s aspirations for the future.’ It was good advice. The dreadful sadness of not having Nicky with me as I go through life is something I’ve moved on from and put into its place. The good stuff now so far outshines the bad stuff and life is a complete joy, especially with Isabella and our five young children to share it with. They know all about their Uncle Nicky, and the happiness he left behind."