Robert built our dream home...and a family of 16!
MY RELATIONSHIP with Robert didn’t get off to the greatest start. When he turned up to do some work on my mother’s farmhouse, near Buxton in Derbyshire, in the early Seventies, I dismissed him as a show-off and bolshie to boot.
A few weeks later, however, I found myself on a date with him, and discovered that while he did indeed have a big character, he was also a caring and honourable man. He, meanwhile, had to make some mental adjustments of his own. I was divorced with two small children whom Robert had thought were my much younger brother and sister.
It still makes me laugh to remember the double take he did when he realised they were mine. It didn’t put him off, and we married three years later.
Robert’s ‘proposal’ was to announce: ‘I’ve booked the church for Saturday.’
We moved into a ramshackle house that we renovated, something Robert realised he had a talent for. That, together with his shrewd business brain, meant he was able to branch out from joinery work into a successful property business.
He had to take risks, though, which meant some lean times, especially as with three children of our own in quick succession we were soon a family of seven.
Robert used to buy in bulk to see us through — a habit which never left him, whether it was loo rolls or bin-bags. To this day, if we run out of something you’ll hear the cry: ‘Dad will have a spare one somewhere.’
One day in 2000, he arrived home to tell me he’d bought a house at auction — sight unseen. In fact, the ‘gentleman’s residence’ was a derelict, listed Georgian hall in eight acres, 20 miles south of Buxton.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it,’ was the auctioneer’s astonished response when Robert went to pay for it and asked for directions. We decided it could be a wonderful family home and set to work, swotting up on restoration techniques and dedicating every spare minute to bringing this beautiful building back to life.
In 2006 we moved into our stunning new home — with seven bedrooms and seven bathrooms — and it has played host not only to our children but the nine grandchildren we’ve been blessed with.
Robert’s work ethic was all the more impressive because he’d battled all manner of health concerns over the years. Finally, ten years ago, he was diagnosed with Fabry Disease, a rare blood disorder which can cause kidney and liver damage.
Robert bore his diagnosis stoically, even though he was often in tremendous pain. By the end, his body was a mass of surgical scars but, each time he felt a bit better, he’d stock up on goods that today we joke will see us through to the next century.
He died at home, surrounded by people he loved, leaving a house that feels very quiet without him. We miss him terribly.
Robert Critchlow, born June 18, 1950, died June 7, 2018, aged 67.