by Robert Mills
At first my mobility was limited, but in a few days I was able to get about well enough to make the short journey to the local church in the family car.
“Will you be going to the youth club tomorrow evening?” my mother asked the following Wednesday. When I replied, “I think I’ll give it a miss,” she was clearly surprised.
“I thought you enjoyed it,” she said. “I hear Marvin’s a member now, so you’ll have a friend there.”
It seemed hard to counter this argument, but I managed a somewhat unconvincing “I’ve decided it’s not really my kind of thing.” She raised her eyebrows but said no more.
That evening Marvin called round to ask if I was coming to the club and he too was surprised by my negative response. “I was looking forward to you being there,” he said. “Most of the blokes are pretty dreary.”
“I thought you spent most of the time with the girls or at least with one girl in particular,” I retorted.
“Oh that’s over,” he said with a wave of his hand. “She’s a stuck up cow and I had to dump her. I’m going out with a girl called Rheya now. Long blonde hair and great legs; you’ll like her.”
My cloud of gloom lifted instantly. “Well OK then, I’ll come if you really want me to,” I said.
The church was brightly lit as I arrived in the gathering gloom of evening. Marvin was already waiting for me outside as arranged and we went in together. Almost at once I spotted Gardenia in a group of girls and it seemed to me that she was making a point of ignoring Marvin. It was clear that I’d have to give him the slip if I wanted to get close to her. Once we’d collected our drinks I left Marvin with Rheya who, I noted with some satisfaction, was not as attractive as his description had suggested, and made my way to the other side of the room where Gardenia was standing with her friends. Her face lit up when she saw me.
“It’s great to see you,” she said. “How’s the leg?”
“Not bad,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt now, but it’s still a bit difficult to get about.”
By the end of the evening I had asked Gardenia out again and after that we saw each other regularly. My desire for her grew, but I was inhibited by the fear of rejection and presumably the medication I was inadvertently taking.
A few weeks later Gardenia and I went to an evening performance at the cineplex. I can’t remember what the film was. I paid little attention to it in any case, being preoccupied by the slim figure in the next seat. During the intermission we sat in silence for a few minutes then she said, “I missed you while you were in hospital; I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit you. I wanted to but, like I told you, Daddy wouldn’t let me go alone.”
“It’s OK,” I said. “It was a long way to go. I’d have liked to see you, of course, but I didn’t expect you to come.” She smiled and gave my hand a squeeze.
The film began again and we were once more in darkness. Emboldened by our exchange during the interval and the gesture that had followed it, I took her hand in mine. To my great relief, she didn’t resist. The hand was warm and soft, and somehow I wanted the film to go on forever so that I wouldn’t have to let go. Outside the cineplex I took her hand again and we walked the familiar route to her house. We said little to each other; for my own part, I was lost in my thoughts and in the pleasure of simply being with Gardenia. When we reached her house we stood together uncertainly. Then, with a sudden, unexpected boldness, I took her in my arms. I felt a great rush of relief. I’d dreamed of this moment for so long and I was thrilled to discover that it was even more exciting than I’d imagined it would be. The warmth and softness of her body through her clothes were almost overwhelming. We stood there for several moments without moving, then I pulled away a little and looked into her face. It glowed with contentment and, thus encouraged, I kissed her lightly on the lips and then planted my moist mouth on other parts of her face. The anticlimax was unexpected and appalling. Is this all there is to it? I wondered. Sadly my education, which had taught me so much about French irregular verbs, had taught me nothing about French kissing.
One of the guiding principles of ‘advanced parenting’ was that sex education should be postponed until the late teens. The sociologists who had promoted this view argued that the highest rates of teenage pregnancy had occurred during a period when young children had received sex education classes. This they dubbed ‘the denial of innocence’. It was therefore not surprising that my knowledge in this area was at best sketchy. One evening I needed to consult an online dictionary and, having checked the required word, I said, “Definition of ‘sex’” into the microphone. The result that appeared on the screen was disappointingly unhelpful: ‘Sex, noun: either of two divisions, of living organisms, also, the distinctive quality of each; adjective: pertaining to sex; appealing to sexual instincts, male and female.’ Disappointed, I tried ‘kiss’: ‘Kiss, noun: a salutation given with the lips; passing contact of balls in billiards.’ I was hoping for so much more than a ‘salutation’. I decided to try one more definition and said, “Copulation.” ‘Copulation, noun: the act of coupling; the embrace of the sexes in coition.’ This sounded more exciting, but what was ‘coition’? ‘Coition, noun: sexual intercourse.’ Intercourse? ‘Intercourse, noun: connection by reciprocal dealings; communion; fellowship; mutual communication; sexual connection.’
It was to be a number of years before I discovered what ‘sexual connection’ meant. I have made up for this to some extent in my later life but now that I am unable to copulate I regret that I haven’t had more frequent and varied sexual encounters.
I received some admittedly rather informal tuition when I was travelling home alone in a transit vehicle after a visit to central London during the summer holidays. The transit system was still fairly new at that time. It had become clear that there would have to be a radical rethink of public transport as fewer and fewer people could afford their own car but they still needed to be able to get about. The first proposal was to locate it underground, but the foundations of modern ultra-high-rise buildings are so deep that this proved to be prohibitively expensive. As a result a system of transit tubes was built between existing buildings about thirty feet above the ground. New materials had to be developed to construct these, so as to avoid the need for multiple supporting pillars that would take up precious space at ground level. The vehicles themselves were robotic and were supervised from a number of control centres located at strategic points in the network. Some carried local traffic and made frequent stops while the others made the longer journeys between towns and cities at higher speeds. The vehicles became known as ‘autonomous transit vehicles’ or ‘ATVs’ for short.
A few stops from my destination I was joined by two girls, whom I judged to be several years older than myself. Neither was, I thought, particularly attractive and at first I paid them little attention. They ignored me and proceeded to discuss their experiences of the previous evening. The thinner of the two spoke first: “How did you get on with that Virgil?”
“Alright,” said the other.
“He kiss you?”
“Yeah.”
“He put his tongue in your mouth?”
“Yeah.” They dissolved into laughter.
“You was lucky,” said the thin one. “My one just licked me all over my face.” More hysterical laughter followed.
So that was it. My technique had been faulty and so it was not surprising that I’d been disappointed by my amorous encounter with Gardenia. At the time, it seemed to me a slightly odd thing to do, but I presumed that in this new and exciting world of sensuality one had to expect the unexpected.
I arrived home in a state of excited anticipation and called Gardenia immediately. She was obviously pleased to hear from me and we arranged that I’d go round to her house the following day. She greeted me with a smile and suggested that we go for a walk. This suited me very well, as it meant that we would not be under her mother’s suspicious gaze.
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At the top of Gardenia’s road a stile led into a small area of sparse woodland, much frequented by local dog owners, as there were few places left where animals could be exercised. A path led through the scrub into a more densely wooded area. Once we were out of sight I took her hand and we walked on. Gardenia did most of the talking, mainly about what she had been doing at school. I had a more serious matter on my mind and finally plucked up courage to ask the question that had troubled me for some time.
“When you were going out with Marvin, did he kiss you?” I asked.
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me with a look of incredulity. “What are you on about? I’ve never been out with Marvin.”
“He said you had.”
“Well, he’s a liar then.”
So once again I had been the victim of one of Marvin’s jokes. Clearly he had somehow discovered my interest in Gardenia, presumably from one of the other club members, and had seen a chance for amusement at my expense. I hadn’t told him about my cineplex outing with Gardenia and perhaps he’d thought that I would never pluck up courage to ask her out, or that she would turn me down. In either of these circumstances his deceit would never have come to light. I considered my options. If I revealed my discovery he would be able to laugh at my expense, but at least he would know that I’d found him out. If I remained silent he would have the satisfaction of believing that I saw him as a potential rival for Gardenia’s affections. I was uncertain how to proceed, but dismissed the matter from my mind.
As we walked on deeper into the wood I felt a growing confidence in my position. I decided that it was time to explore my new knowledge in a practical setting. I gently led Gardenia off the path into an area where the trees grew closer together, so that fellow walkers could not see us. Once we were behind the trunk of a large oak I slipped my arms around her waist and drew her towards me. As our lips met I pushed my tongue between her teeth. The rough upper surface of my tongue slipped under the soft lower surface of hers. Even now, all these years later, I can still taste the sweetness of that first kiss. A rush of intense desire coursed through my body, and I could feel a stiffening sensation in my trousers. I was afraid that she could feel it too, but there was little I could do about it. When the kiss ended I could see her lips were moist and there was a look in her eyes which seemed to convey a mixture of pleasure and desire that was intoxicating. I kissed her again, longer and more intensely this time.
That afternoon lives vividly in my memory but all too quickly it came to an end. With a sigh Gardenia indicated that it was time to go and we retraced our steps. At the door of her house her mother said, “Did you have a nice walk?”
We said we had, but in her eyes I could see suspicion and disapproval. I felt uncomfortable and said that I had to get home, but all the way I felt a glow of excitement and satisfaction as I relived my afternoon of passion.
The following day Gardenia was occupied so I arranged to visit Marvin. His mother directed me up to his bedroom where he was putting the finishing touches to an elaborate model of a spaceship. Looking up as I came in, he gave me one of his disarming smiles. “Hello, how you doing?” he said.
“OK,” I replied.
“How are you getting on with the lovely Gardenia?”
“Very well, thanks.”
“I expect you’ve been spending a lot of time with her,” he said. “That would explain why I’ve seen so little of you lately.”
I had by then had time to consider how to react to Marvin’s latest joke. “Marvin,” I said, “you know you told me you were going out with Gardenia while I was in hospital?”
“Did I?” He suddenly became preoccupied with the ship’s nose cone.
“You did. Well, I know you were lying.”
“Oh.”
“It was a rotten thing to do. I was stuck in that bed thinking about the two of you together.”
He put the model down and turned to face me. “You’re right, Symon,” he said.“ It was a nasty thing to do. I’m really sorry, can you forgive me?”
I looked at his innocent, freckled face and knew that there was only one answer: “I suppose so.”
He smiled. “Here, come and have a look at this,” he said and led me over to his smartscreen, on which a selection of university prospectuses was displayed.
Marvin was in his final year at school and was planning to go to university. It was no surprise that he had settled on robotics, as he had always been good at mathematics and science and the demand for graduates with that degree was increasing. He took me through the components of the various courses, holding forth knowledgably about the merits and demerits of what was on offer. His first choice was Central London University and, he confided, he thought he had a pretty good chance of success with his application.
“So what do you plan to do when you leave school?” he said, when he’d finished.
“I haven’t thought really,” I said.
“Well, what do you want to do with your life?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think it’s time you gave it some thought.”
“I will, I will,” I said vaguely. My only plan for my future at that time was to marry Gardenia and raise a family, but somewhere in the back of mind I realised that there was more to it than that. I have always, I suppose, lacked ambition. Certainly Marvin said so on more than one occasion in later years. Perhaps if I’d been more purposeful I would have had a better life. On the other hand, I might have become a slave to the attainment of my chosen goals and allowed the really worthwhile things in life to pass me by.
On the Friday before the start of the new school term Gardenia and I took a transit vehicle to the narrow fringe of countryside that lay between the southern edge of Oakwood and the sprawling city of Claybridge. At first we walked hand in hand, but then I slipped my arm around her waist and we walked on tightly linked together. I could feel the warmth of her body through her blouse and I felt content and not a little aroused. The path took us across an area of woodland that had been devastated by fire. All around there was evidence of young plants sprouting between the charred tree trunks.
On we walked and, leaving the open terrain of the burnt wood behind us, we proceeded into an area of dense vegetation. Leaving the path we ducked under outstretched branches seeking the deep, secret heart of the living wood. I wanted to be completely alone with Gardenia, to go where prying eyes could not destroy the beauty of our last day together before the new term began. We stopped where there was a small clearing between trees that were closely packed together, shutting out all but the most persistent rays of sunlight. I took a waterproof sheet from the bag I was carrying on my shoulder and spread it on the ground. At first we sat side by side, my arm around her shoulder. I kissed her and soon we were lying together in each other’s arms. The kisses became more passionate and I felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My hand slipped down to her waist and then onto her leg. I touched her knee and gradually worked my way up her thigh, under her skirt. Her underwear arrested my progress, but as my ardour grew I pressed on and soon felt the curve of her left buttock under my fingers.
Suddenly she pulled away, crying, “No, Symon, no!” We separated and I sat up red-faced and confused. I stammered, “I’m sorry, darling, I’m so sorry.”
“I signed the pledge,” she said getting to her feet. “You know, ‘no sex before twenty’, and I mean to stick to it.”
Her words stung me. My love for Gardenia was pure. It was probably the purest love I’ve felt for anyone in my life, but it had a natural physical expression. I wouldn’t have gone much further on that summer afternoon so long ago, even if I hadn’t been checked. Apart from anything else, I simply didn’t know how to perform the ultimate act of love. I was an innocent, driven by powerful hormonal forces, but lacking the knowledge to respond fully to their bidding. However, what was done could not be undone.
Gardenia would never view me in the same way again. We walked back to the transit station in silence and when we finally arrived at her house she left me without so much as a kiss on the cheek. Soon afterwards she told me she couldn’t continue going out with me. “Of course,” she added, “we can still be friends.” I asked her to reconsider, but her mind was made up. I stopped going to the youth club, but it was quite some time before I could think about her without feeling pain.
Chapter Six
In due course Marvin went to university and in his video messages he spoke of the pleasures of student life and the freedom he was enjoying now that he’d left home. Years later he confessed that his first term had been hard going. He’d spent little time away from his parents during his early life and he found the new responsibilities that came with independent existence daunting, but you wouldn’t have guessed it from what he said at the time. I was envious of his new life and this made me determined to follow him to university. True, this aspiration was not motivated by a desire for learning, but it provided the impetus for me to study for my exams. The world that Marvin described seemed to be a great deal more appealing than looking for a job, and quite possibly failing to find one, and so I applied myself to my studies with renewed determination.
With Marvin away from home, I spent more time with my brother and this was a period of our lives during which we once again became reasonably close. He’d joined me at Oakwood High School and was beginning his own tentative steps towards relationships with the opposite sex. Solid, adaptable Tom sailed though life with apparent ease and became a successful lawyer in a large London practice. He married the senior partner’s daughter and they have a clever, successful son. I have seen little of Tom over the years, partly because we seemed to have less in common as we progressed into adulthood and in more recent times because I’ve seldom returned to Earth. Sometimes I wish we’d been closer, but our different temperaments made us uneasy companions.