We stared at one another. Not knowing what to do or say. It was so weird after everything we’d shared. I still loved him so very much.
‘You look lovely,’ he smiled at me. ‘And I’m so pleased your parents wanted me to be here.’
Not exactly true.
‘They’ll be pleased to see you again. Come in and have a drink.’
He walked into our still-scruffy, still-untidy, still-homely living room. The dogs bounced round him and he patted them all. I introduced him to my grandparents and Jeff. He smiled nervously at everyone, Dad gave him a beer and Vix gave him “a look”.
Then Mum, hair awry, glasses falling off her nose, popped through from the kitchen and smiled warmly. ‘Scott! How nice to see you again. Are your parents well? Good. Leave your coat on the chair there with the rest of them. You’ve got a drink? Dinner won’t be long, dear… try and find a seat…’
‘Thank you,’ he smiled at Mum. ‘It’s very kind of you – and I love your home.’
Mum beamed and vanished back into the kitchen.
I loved my mum.
We had dinner all crowded round the table in the kitchen.
Mum had pulled out all the stops and produced an amazing meal of duck in cherry sauce, with sauté potatoes and garden peas. And a chocolate cake and cream for pudding. And there was a bottle of Mateus Rose on the table, as well as beer and Babycham.
It was fab!
The conversation and laughter roared round the table – we were such a mixed bunch. I didn’t speak to Scott at all, but Mum and Dad and Jeff did, and both my Nans. Vix ignored him and chatted to my Grandads. It was nowhere near as awkward as I’d imagined – but very, very surreal.
Scott was here. Here. Really here. It kept going through my head. It was all like some bizarre dream.
Then they all toasted me and wished me happy birthday and my Nans gave me a cardboard Key of the Door, and Mum and Dad gave me the real thing, and everyone laughed. Scott caught my eye and gave me the slow, sexy smile. I grinned back at him. It was going to be ok.
As soon as we’d all said thank you and how gorgeous the meal had been and offered to help clear and wash up and Mum had chivvied us out of the way and was scraping the left-overs for the animals, I grabbed some more beers and dragged Scott, Vix and Jeff through to my bed-sit room.
Jeff and Vix immediately sank down on to the floor cushions and started going through my LPs, deciding to play The Lovin’ Spoonful.
I sat next to Scott on the studio couch. Not touching. Just side-by-side.
He looked at me. ‘Are you ok? Your letters sounded so…’
I blushed. ‘Sorry about the letters… yes, I’m fine, thanks. Hate the shoe shop, but otherwise I’m ok. You? And the new flat? And the rest of the band?’
He shrugged. ‘All ok. Nothing much changes. Except Rich has left.’
I hoped Rich had decided to settle down with his nurse girlfriend and hoped he’d be happy.
I knew we couldn’t tiptoe round any longer.
‘And how’s Renza?’
He sighed. ‘She’s fine, too. And back in Germany with her family. She hopes to be back in the UK soon, though.’
‘Oh, good. That’ll be nice for you both.’
God! This was ridiculous!
‘Talk to me…’ I leaned against him. ‘Properly. Oh, don’t take any notice of them,’ I indicated Jeff and Vix, now entwined on the cushions, ‘they’re otherwise engaged. Scott, please talk to me.’
He leaned back and pulled me against him. It was lovely to be in his arms again. The Lovin’ Spoonful were singing ‘A Younger Girl’. It was so appropriate, we both laughed. And then he told me. It wasn’t all I wanted to hear, some of it was pretty heart-breaking really, but it made a lot of sense.
He and Renza had moved their love affair on. He was, for the first time, in a committed grown-up relationship with her. He loved her. Was in love with her. And he wouldn’t and couldn’t cheat on her. I tried not to look surprised at this point, I mean, I’d assumed they’d been sleeping together from the start – but clearly not. I kind of read between the lines here – he didn’t need to spell it out.
I actually admired him for this. He’d just broken what was left of my heart, but it did prove that he was a nice boy, with principles – even if he was also a sexy rock-god superstar. He loved Renza, totally, was going to marry her, not yet – but one day – and yes, she was still, and always would be, the love of his life.
And, it also meant that he had at no time been sleeping with us both – which oddly made me happy – oddly, because it obviously meant our relationship had now also changed. So, where did that leave me?
Still hanging on in there, apparently. He said it was a mess, and he was really confused and he didn’t want to lose me, but…
‘But things can’t be as they once were, can they?’ I said. ‘And please, don’t say we can still be friends because we can’t. I can’t.’
He took my face in his hands and turned me to look at him. ‘I know. Oh, I’m so screwed up. I wish…’
‘That you’d never met me?’
‘Sometimes…’ he smiled. ‘No, not really. It’s been fun – more than fun. Even though I’ve felt guilty and mean and unfair to Renza.’
‘But it’s ok now. We both know where we stand – you and me, I mean – not Renza. And Renza need never know about – about us.’
‘I hope she never does.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Oh God – I’ll miss the train! I’m going to have to go. I don’t want to, but…’
‘It’s ok,’ I untangled myself and stood up and hauled him to his feet. ‘I know… thank you for coming. You’ve made my birthday really special.’
Scott moved slightly away. ‘I’ll just go and say goodbye and thank you to your parents and get my coat.’
As soon as he’d left the room, Vix looked up. ‘Hopefully you’ve got the message now.’
‘You were listening?’
‘Course I was. It was better than Coronation Street.’
I shook my head and barged out of the room. Scott was in the tiny hallway.
‘I’ve said my goodbyes and thank-yous. Your family are fab, Stella. You’re very lucky. Oh, and I know I said I couldn’t afford anything but I got you this…’ He pulled a paper bag out of his coat pocket. ‘Look at it when I’ve gone. Ring me – soon. I’d like you to see the new flat. And, thank you…’
He kissed me gently. Briefly. Setting me on fire. Again.
Then I opened the door and he was gone into the darkness.
I leaned back against the door and looked inside the bag. It was a book. I took it out: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe…. Narnia – of course!
I smiled and read what he’d written inside:
“Always remember 7th December 1968”
As if I’d ever forget.
Renza’s Diary
October 11th 1969
Dad handed me a letter this afternoon with a Jersey stamp on it. It wasn’t from Scott, the hand-writing was far too neat, a bit like Mum’s actually. I could hardly open it my hands were shaking so much. It’s the invitation, I’m going to Jersey, I thought, as I opened the rose perfumed pages with trembling fingers.
‘Is that from his mother?’ Dad asked trying to see what was written.
‘Think so,’ I said as I unfolded the pages and looked at the address. Of course it was.
‘What’s she want? She’s never written before, not even after all the promises of invitations from your hippy.’
‘What’s this about an invitation?’ Mum came downstairs and tried to grab the letter but I was far too quick and raced into the bathroom, locking the door.
‘Sorry, got to go.’ I shouted through the door. I wanted to read it first for a change.
There were several pages; she introduced herself as Scott’s mum – as if I wouldn’t know, we’d spoken on the phone before I left England – and apologised for not writing sooner. She said that her life is hectic and with a small child t
o look after, time slipped away all too easily. I nearly laughed out loud, she should look after five flipping kids and then she’d know what hectic really was.
She said Scott had told her we’re getting married one day, but not too soon she hoped, because she was far too young to become a grandmother and as light followed day, she said, that’s what would happen next. Not on your bloody life, I muttered, more than a bit annoyed. I’m never having kids. The flipping nerve.
Her name’s Eva, and I am to call her Eva – I’d never had to call her anything before – and she was sure we’d eventually be great friends, she couldn’t wait to see me – oh yeah, right – and I was welcome in Jersey any time I wanted. Her home would be my home – everyone was keen to meet the love of Scott’s life – well, not that keen otherwise I’d have been over by now. She’s heard so much about me, seen my photos, Scott was right, I was indeed a beauty – I’m going to throw up – and the band always talk about me with great affection, she felt she knew me already.
Eva – well, she said call her Eva, went on to tell me about Jersey and life over there and what we could do together when I eventually visit – eventually didn’t sound like an invitation was being offered any time soon – and I flipped to the last page to see if there was a mention of a visit. There wasn’t. I turned back to where she was telling me about how wonderful Jersey was.
Their lives were very relaxed and they – she and Scott’s step-father, Dan – didn’t stand on ceremony, she said, so guests would just muck in and, as I was no doubt a great cook, having so much experience according to Scott, I’d be a great asset when I visited them. Well, that’s nice Scott, exchanging one skivvy job for another by the sound of it, should I ever visit, which I’m seriously thinking of declining should I ever, ever get an invitation. Cheeky bloody woman!
Then she dropped the bombshell. Stella Deacon, who she was sure I’d heard about, had been over for a few weeks in the summer – I bloody knew it, my instincts were right. The two-timing rat! A few weeks, weeks! – I felt sick and dizzy and had to take some deep breaths before I could bear to read on – and so it hadn’t been convenient – convenient! – to ask me over at the same time. Stella, was there on fan-club business at Stephan’s request, and staying at Eva’s was cheaper than a hotel, she wanted to assure me, nothing more. Nothing more! Just saying that implied there was, something more! I’m going to recommend Scott has his eyes and ears tested; Stella’s been living in his home for weeks and he’s been totally unaware of it. Pain gripped my heart and I felt a cold sweat run through my body. I put the letter on the vanity unit and ran my wrists under the cold tap.
‘What are you doing in there, come out now?’ Mum yelled and banged on the door.
‘Use the one upstairs,’ I yelled back. My voice sounded strangled, even to me, as tears streamed down my face.
‘I want to see that letter,’ she banged again. ‘Now!’
‘Go away, it’s private, go away.’ I sat on the loo seat and wiped my hands and tears with the hand towel.
‘We told you to forget him, he’s not going to be bothered with you while you’re here and he’s there. What did his mum say? It’s from her isn’t it? It’s not his writing. Got her to tell you he’s chucking you?’
Eva’s letter prattled on about what a nice girl Stella is, such a good cook – what’s with this cooking lark? Anyone would think she’s really in need of staff to do her chores for her, not visitors. She wrote about Scott’s half-sister, Holly, and their horses and Narnia’s Children gigging all over the island, and how she hoped I’d enjoy the music scene over there, when I visit. When, not if then! The band are becoming famous and quite the celebrities on the island. Big flipping deal. Reading it was making me cross. Perhaps that’s her intention, to put me off Scott by dropping hints about Stella – letting me down gently – giving Stella a clear field.
Mum’s given up banging on the door and I’ve managed to sneak up to my room without being spotted, to finish Eva’s letter in peace. There’s no way I’m going to let anyone else read it, especially the marriage bit!
For some reason I needed to put Gary Puckett and the Union Gap on my record player, ‘Young Girl,’ which I love, seemed just right to listen to as I read on.
Oh great, wonderful, Stella has been to the flat in Pinner a few times. Flipping news to me! More fan-club stuff I suppose. Why is she telling me all this? Bloody wonderful. I can’t cry any more, I feel too angry. I need to digest it all.
I don’t think I’m going to mention any of this to Scott when I write or talk to him on the phone. I’ll just wait and see if he mentions any of it. I’ll reply to his mum, politely and I won’t rise to her bait either. Why would Eva make a point of telling me about Stella? Trying to warn me off gently?
Meantime, I’m going to buy some new outfits for the series of parties and dinner dances at the Mess throughout next week, when the Silver Anniversary of the base in the village is being celebrated, with loads of army and MoD bigwigs and German guests from the Rathaus (Town Hall), the local Council, and whatever. More flipping oompah I suppose.
I’ve seen a couple of really gorgeous cocktail dresses in a boutique in Dusseldorf which Heidi thinks I should buy for the early evening events, and I’ve seen a fabulous long skirt in heavy black and gold brocade which will go well with some new lace blouses I bought last time we went shopping. They’re classic styles so I’m not too worried about wearing them – very Audrey Hepburn. I’m all right for shoes.
When I reply to Eva I shall make a big deal of the celebrations and my new clothes and mention Klaus and how wonderful he is. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Hopefully she’ll tell Scott. I might even tell Scott what a wonderful time I’ve been having, going out with Klaus, dancing, and anything else I can think of to make him as angry and hurt as I feel now. Playing softly in the background on British Forces Radio, Marvin Gaye’s singing, ‘I Heard it Through the Grapevine.’ Ain’t that a fact!
Renza’s Diary
October 14th 1969
Things have been hectic, what with shopping for the celebrations with Heidi and then with Mum, I haven’t had chance to read Scott’s latest letter properly until now, let alone reply to his mother’s letter. We’ve been working later at the base too, and I’ve had to help Mum a lot – the German builders are working in the cellar doing something or other, so we’ve been up at 5am because they come just before 6.30am and its pandemonium getting the kids up, breakfasted and ready for school before they turn up.
Thankfully the kids are playing on the swings with some German kids and Mum and Dad have gone for a walk, so I can read his letter in peace.
He sent it from their new address in Pinner, Harrow, and started off apologising for not writing for ages. Nothing new about that. He also included two pound notes towards a phone call he wanted me to make. He said he found it too difficult to get through to Germany, spending ages trying, and so it would be easier if I rang him instead. Well, at last he was paying for the calls. So far he’s cost me an arm and a leg each time I’ve called him. Not that we chat that often any more.
They’ve got an upstairs flat in a big old house and there are three school teachers in the bottom flat. There are three bedrooms and he shares the biggest one with Mo, and Zak and Joss have their own. I can’t help wondering if the wonderful Stella shacks up with him as well. I’m becoming bitter and twisted since Eva’s letter; my imagination has been working overtime.
There’s no more on Rich – he left suddenly, Scott said. No one knew why or where he’d gone. The news upset me. Rich has always been my friend, my ally. I’ll miss him very much. But there’s still Mo so it’s not that bad, if I ever get to see him again – the way things are…
They liked Pinner, the flat overlooks the main Pinner Road so it’s very busy there, and ‘happening.’ They’ve had some great gigs since moving there, and even ended back in Wing, near Leighton Buzzard for some of them. One was at a huge equestrian centre, in a sort of an arena, with over five
hundred people. . .
‘Livin’ with You,’ will be released in America in January, so a lot of hopes are being pinned on having a hit. Narnia’s Children appear not to have made any money yet from all their hard work. But what they could potentially earn, even if the record did only marginally well in America, seemed to excite him – to me it was all a dream for the future.
‘When are you coming over? You mentioned March in your last letter, please make it sooner. I’m going mad without you.’ He wrote. ‘Of course I still want to marry you and I always will, but personally I think that to get married at the moment would be rather stupid, we don’t have any money! If any of our records make it then that would change everything. I love you and want to see you more than anything and I hope and pray you will come to London to live so I can see you every day and every night.’
I was so shocked reading this. Upset, hurt and disappointed – and it doesn’t matter how often I’ve read it, I still can’t work it all out. I’m confused and feel so unwanted, yet he says he loves me and wants me to come over...but then there’s Eva’s letter. I just don’t know what’s going on, especially with declarations of undying love again and then putting off getting married, not that I want to do it any time soon, I’m not stupid.
‘Don’t think I’ve changed my mind about marrying you, because I haven’t and I hope it can be soon. Agreed, people have got married for love without money, but it is pretty futile I think.’
I’m beginning to wonder if he has a split personality, like Mum. That’d be just my luck.
Totally numbed by what he’d written, it’s taken me a while to digest the bit about Stephan and Doc Holliday and The Cards. Doc has sold over 2 million records (of ‘The Egyptian’) in England and America and Scott’s calculated what it’s worth to Stephan. A fortune. I still can’t take that amount of money in, even though I think he’s mentioned it before. I know he wishes the band were earning like that. However hard they work, they never have any money. It’s so unfair.
I’m so confused. I rang him as soon as I could get to the post room, and it was wonderful, he was warm and loving in the things he said to me and, when I asked about getting married, reassured me that he wants to, but not yet. But I never thought we were going to get married any time soon anyway.
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