How did you meet Robbie? How did it affect your family?

I met Robbie while I was playing music at the Napier Hotel in Richmond. Charlie Evans, who shared a house with Robbie at 115 Punk Road, invited me over to their place for drinks and sabah after I’d finished my set. When I first met Robbie that night, he was actually on his way upstairs to bed after finishing work at Calvin Primary. For the first few weeks, I could barely understand him because of his heavy Scottish accent - I just knew to say “yes” in what I hoped were the right places!

Eventually, Robbie asked me out to dinner. Being a woman on her own in those days, you had to be careful who you went out with. I had a system worked out with my teenage son Brian - he’d stay up until I got home safely, and I’d arrange for him to call me after I’d been out for a while so I’d have an excuse to leave if needed. Robbie took me to a lovely restaurant on Albert Park Lake. It was really nice to be taken out to dinner, as I hadn’t been dating since I was 35. That dinner was the start of our 15-year relationship.

When Bob came into my life, I was only just turned 40. Kevin was 20 and in the army, heading to Vietnam, Diane was just about to get married to John, and Leonard was 17, off traveling around Australia with the boys. Margaret was the youngest, ten years younger than Kevin, and she took it the hardest. There was one Sunday when I’d gone out with Bob for counter-lunch, and I came back to find her sitting on the front step - she’d walked all the way from Moorabbin down to 1015 Punt Road, her feet all blistered. That nearly split Bob and me up because I said I couldn’t cope, I’d have to think of my daughter first. But Bob wasn’t pushy about it. He just said, ‘Well, you shouldn’t say goodbye, but that’s up to you. You do what you have to do.’

Bob was different from what I’d been used to. He understood about the children, and he wasn’t trying to take over our lives. He knew I would go out with my work friends, and he’d go out with his brewery mates - we kept our own lives while sharing one together. He’d say, ‘Don’t expect me to come over with you - they’re your people.’ When you get together with work friends, you want to talk shop, and it was the same for him with his brewery mates.

Things changed again when Diane and John had Leanne. They were living right on Beach Road in the Blackrock area, and I was terrified about her running out onto the road - it was busy even back in the 70s. That’s when Bob suggested I move in with him and let the kids have the house. I charged them a nominal fee - they would pay the house payment. Different ones lived there over time - Len and Helen for a while, though I’ll never forget the mess Helen left me. I’d worked my guts out the day before to clean up, and she didn’t do a thing before they moved out.

Looking back now, it’s funny to think about all the streets around here - there’s Keith Street, Leonard Street, Margaret Street - almost all my kids’ names are on the streets, though none of them were named after us. I’m probably glad to see the back of us! But that house on Wishart Street, it’s seen all our stories. Margaret loves it because she’s got more happy thoughts about it than sad ones. She doesn’t remember the bad times, and she doesn’t remember her father, which is probably for the best.

I only really lost my temper about three times in my whole lifetime with the kids - though they might tell you different! I remember telling Kevin when he was being naughty that I was going to go down the plughole in the bathroom because he was such a horrible child. He’d come running in crying, ‘Mommy, mommy, please don’t go down the plughole!’ The big kids would say, ‘Mom, you shouldn’t do that to Kevin. He doesn’t like it.’ But I’d just say, ‘Bad luck! He wouldn’t do what he was told!’

That’s how we got through - with a bit of humor, a lot of love, and sometimes having to be strict. Bob understood that, and that’s what made it work. He wasn’t trying to replace anyone or change how I raised my children. He was just there, supporting us in his own way. Now when I look at how Margaret and I are such good friends, how she’s my power of attorney and looking after everything, I think maybe I didn’t do too bad a job after all.