by James Argent
‘Look, it was just a kiss on a girls’ holiday; it was nothing,’ she explained. ‘I didn’t realise that there was a chance that we might be able to see each other. I’d like to see you,’ she added.
I could understand Lydia’s point of view. We weren’t exactly going out with each other and, since I’d not made any moves in that respect, she must have doubted whether I wanted to make a go of it. Maybe this was the time for me to seize the moment.
‘I would really like to see you. Can I take you out?’ I asked.
Lydia agreed and, with that, we arranged a date. When she gave me her address I had a bit of a surprise, because it turned out that she lived near the top of my road, five minutes’ walk away. I wondered how this girl could have lived so close to me all these years and yet our paths had never crossed before now. This was getting more mental by the moment. The rest of the conversation flew by in a blur. This was going to be my big chance: we were finally going to meet to go out together on a proper date.
When the big day arrived I didn’t have a lot of cash to take us out, but I was determined to make a good impression. I had a new pair of trainers that I decided to wear and I had a nice pair of jeans, but I wasn’t sure what else to wear. I looked in the wardrobe and the only thing I could find was a big banana-coloured hoody. It looked a bit odd, but it was clean and bright, so I decided to give it a go. During my final years at school I had put on a lot of weight and I had continued to pile it on when I started working, so my wardrobe was a bit limited for choice at this stage. I toyed with the idea of trying to slim down, but I had a problem: I just loved my food too much. As I stared at my clothes I remembered that I was due to go on holiday to Florida the next day, and most of the new stuff I had bought recently was meant for the beach, so yellow hoody it was.
I had an idea that Lydia and I might go to the cinema, but it was a warm summer’s evening, so I decided to walk to Lydia’s house rather than arrive in a minicab. I thought we could call one later, as I hadn’t even started taking driving lessons by this point. As I strolled up to the top of my road in my hoody I couldn’t help but feel nervous: here I was finally going on a date with a girl I liked. When I knocked at her door she came outside immediately, smiling at me. The cinema was quite a distance but it was a lovely evening, and the area where we live is surrounded by greenery and trees, so I thought it would be nice to take a stroll together.
‘Lydia, would you like to go for a walk with me?’ I asked.
She agreed, and we walked together all the way from her house to the cinema in South Woodford. All the time we were chatting about shared friends and telling different stories. It felt as though we had known each other for ages. Our hands slipped together and we walked along like that, hand in hand. We spent the whole journey of about three miles laughing and joking with each other. Lydia looked stunning and she didn’t even pass any comment about my bright yellow top, which now seems a strange choice of clothing for a first date. When we arrived at the cinema, Mamma Mia!, the musical film about Abba, was showing and I suggested we see it. I don’t know what sort of film Lydia expected to see but I was still a big fan of music and theatre, so it was a natural choice for me and I bought us two tickets. Inside, we got loads of popcorn and sweets and settled down together. I knew every word to the songs in Mamma Mia! – and when the film had started I sang along to all the great Abba numbers. I was fixated by the film, while Lydia laughed her head off and loved every minute of it. Every time I turned to her she was laughing and giggling, and I suppose I must have made quite a sight. There can’t have been many 18-stone skinheads in Essex who knew every word of Abba! But, thankfully, Lydia found it funny. I think I enjoyed the film more than she did but she was probably quite touched to have found somebody who liked music and theatre.
When the film ended and the lights came up, I felt the date was going like a dream: I was with a girl I was starting to adore and I got the impression that the feeling was mutual. Just as we were getting out of our seats Lydia spotted one of her mum’s best friends sitting among the audience. As I stood up something happened that made my world come crashing down. Lydia waved to her family friend. The woman did a double take at me in my bright-yellow hoody before shouting at the top of her voice across the whole cinema.
‘Oi, Lydia! how come you’ve gone on a date with Banana Man?’ she bellowed.
I was so embarrassed and I immediately went bright red. I suppose I did look a bit like a giant banana in my yellow top with my white scalp showing through my skinhead, but it was the last thing I wanted to hear.
Oh, my God! I recall thinking. I wish the ground could swallow me.
But Lydia laughed along with it bravely, despite my blushes.
‘Just ignore her, it doesn’t matter,’ she told me kindly.
When we got outside, I asked Lydia what she wanted to do next.
‘Do you want me to take you home now?’ I said.
‘No, come on, let’s go out for a couple of drinks,’ she replied eagerly, clearly not worried about being spotted in a local pub with Banana Man.
So we went for a drink in The George in South Woodford and we continued to get on really well, constantly laughing at each other’s little jokes and enjoying each other’s company. I sat there looking at her. There had been many times when I was younger that I had looked at a girl, but I’d never received any attention back like this. Not only was she a girl who was attractive and witty, but I was getting vibes from her that she was feeling the same way about me. I could tell that she was really enjoying herself. As the evening drew to a close, I knew it would soon be time to go.
‘Right, Lydia, come on, let’s get a taxi and I’ll drop you home,’ I said.
But Lydia had other ideas: ‘No, we can walk home.’
‘What? You want to walk another three miles home? Are you sure you’re not tired?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want us to get a taxi. I want us to walk home.’
It was as if Lydia didn’t want the night to end, and I was more than happy to oblige by walking her back. We made our way back to Woodford Green holding hands and talking all the way. I hadn’t tried to kiss her all night, not in the cinema or the pub, and I was beginning to wonder what to do next. I kept thinking, Right, I really want to kiss her. I don’t know if I’ll get a chance or not, but I really want to.
As we got closer to her house I asked her if she’d mind taking a detour via the local garage so that I could get a milkshake and some crisps (this was something of a traditional late-night treat of mine, which may help to explain why I’d gained so much weight). Lydia agreed, and I asked if she wanted anything, but she was fine. Then we sat down on a little bench near the garage next to some greenery. I looked at her and said, ‘Lydia, do you know what? I’ve really enjoyed tonight and I’d love to do it again.’
Lydia replied by telling me that she’d enjoyed it, too, and agreed that she wanted to see more of me.
I now had a bit of a dilemma. Should I move towards her and kiss her, or should I ask her first? It didn’t seem to matter that I’d kissed her before many times in the club, because this was different: we were alone and on a date. I was starting to feel a bit shaky with nerves in case I messed things up.
‘Lydia?’
‘Yes?’
‘Would it be all right if I kissed you?’
‘Yes, of course.’
And then we had a really nice passionate kiss as we sat there on the bench. I pulled away and thought about how amazing it felt. Then I remembered that I was due to go on holiday to Florida the next day and suddenly I wished I weren’t going.
‘I’m going to really miss you,’ I said.
Lydia said that she would miss me, too, so we agreed that we would try to speak on the phone every day until I got back.
‘I want to take you out a lot more,’ I said, and we kissed again.
After that, I walked her to her front door and we said goodnight. It had been a brilliant date and I was so pleased that I
ran and skipped all the way home. I was the man! That evening, after I got home, Lydia sent me a long text message telling me that, even though she had not that long ago met me, she couldn’t believe how much she liked me. It made me very happy.
I’d done pretty well that night for a geezer who looked like a giant banana!
6
LOSING MY VIRGINITY AND A BAD EXPERIENCE WITH A BURGLAR ALARM
It felt weird as I flew to Florida because I had so many mixed emotions after my first proper date with Lydia. On the one hand, I was looking forward to three weeks of hot baking sunshine, but at the same time I didn’t want to go because I was so excited about the great new girl I had just found. Secretly, I wanted to be with her and I wished I that were back in Essex. I was travelling to Miami with James Kane, my friend from the jeweller’s, and his family. We were joined by Ferne McCann, who later appeared on TOWIE. During the flight I told them all about Lydia, and they were pleased for me. It turned out that James’s dad, Jimmy, had been a childhood friend of Lydia’s mum, Debbie. They told me that Debbie was a crazy character with lots of frizzy blonde hair and a real zest for life, which was something that I would soon find out for myself.
During the holiday I enjoyed soaking up the sun, but I seemed to spend most of my time reminiscing about my date with Lydia and wondering how things would develop between us. We spoke to each other on the telephone every day at a prearranged time in order to keep up to date with chitchat about what we’d been doing while we were apart. I wanted to buy her a nice present but I wasn’t sure what to get, so I asked James’s sisters, who were triplets, and their mum, Jackie. I told them that I didn’t want to get something that was so over the top that it looked weird, because we’d been on only one date, but at the same time I wanted to let Lydia know how much I cared about her. The triplets told me that there was a new perfume by Juicy Couture that was then available only in the States. It sounded like the ideal gift. I bought Lydia a big bottle and, as we all flew back, I decided that I’d go straight round to her house as soon as I arrived in the UK.
When I finally got to meet Lydia’s family it was a crazy baptism. I was nervous about seeing her parents for the first time, because I’d been told Debbie could be very outspoken, and I’d heard that her father, Dave, was a tough bloke who came from south London. When I arrived at the house it was obvious that Lydia had told them a lot about me, because the entire family were lined up in the kitchen to greet me. There were nine people there in all. Lydia has an older sister, Georgia, a younger sister called Roma and a brother called Freddie; and there were three children whom Debbie was fostering at the time. I felt as if I were being paraded for inspection! I needn’t have worried about how Debbie and Dave would greet me because they were very friendly towards me from the beginning.
I was dressed pretty casually and very tanned, but my skinhead still hadn’t quite grown out. Lydia had shown her mum some photos of me that were taken when my hair was still very short, and I think my haircut must have become a bit of a topic of conversation between them while I was away. While we shared a cup of tea and exchanged pleasantries in the kitchen, Debbie suddenly said something that made me laugh, but at the same time made me feel very embarrassed.
‘James, I must admit, I’ve seen pictures of you and you look like Shrek!’ she said, looking at me straight in the eye.
And with that the family all had a good laugh. It was an unusual thing to say at a first meeting, but, then, that was Debbie all over. She is a lovely, bubbly character who wears her heart on her sleeve and she will always say what’s on her mind, even if it sounds a bit too honest. Lydia was mortified.
‘Mum, you can’t say things like that!’ she exclaimed.
I promised everyone I would grow my hair and, once all the laughter had died down, I gave Lydia her perfume. She was delighted with it. But there was another awkward moment to come. Just as I was wondering what would happen next, Lydia invited me to go up to her bedroom. I felt a bit uncomfortable going upstairs while Debbie and Dave were there, but Lydia regarded it as completely normal. I suppose it was just an innocent way of getting some privacy, and her parents didn’t seem to mind. It was the start of a great friendship that I was to enjoy with Lydia’s family.
Debbie is now well known to viewers of The Only Way Is Essex, but Dave prefers to keep out of the telly limelight. He’s a very friendly man who had a tough upbringing in Lewisham, where people tend to fend for themselves from an early age. Dave was a tiler who’d grafted his way up to running his own business, and he worked hard to provide his family with a nice lifestyle. He was a good-looking man with shoulder-length hair and loved popping into his local pub, the Three Colts, for a quiet drink. I got on well with Dave, and I also became close to his best friends, who were called Elaine and Paulie. I still go to Spurs with Paulie today. Debbie and Dave had met when they were the same age as Lydia and I were. Debbie would sometimes moan at him if she thought he’d been spending too much time there. Much as Dave will probably tell me off for saying it, it’s Debbie who wears the trousers in their household, but, on the whole, I was pleased that Lydia had a nice family and that they all welcomed me so warmly, even if they did think I looked like Shrek!
My relationship with Lydia continued to develop really well, but I wasn’t always very good at choosing great things for us to do. In fact, I’d sometimes get it disastrously wrong and I would take her on a date from hell. One such occasion was when Josh was due to make his first-team debut for Charlton Athletic and Mark, Jack and I all wanted to go along and show our support.
I know, I thought, without pausing to consider the fact that Lydia had absolutely no interest in football: I’ll invite her to come too.
Mark and Jack came to pick us up and it was a funny combination of people to choose to go on a date with. Mark and Jack kept farting in the car on the way there, which I found hilarious, but at the same time I was worried that Lydia would think we were a bunch of donuts. At one point the car stopped next to a huge poster at a bus stop of a fat man, and Mark chirped up, ‘Arg, what are you doing on that poster?’
It gave the boys a laugh, but I am not sure what Lydia made of it all.
It was an evening match and by now the nights were getting cooler, so, by the time we got in the stands, it was freezing cold. Poor Lydia had to put up with three blokes all cheering on their mate loudly while she sat there bored and shivering. Looking back, I realise it was a very poor choice of date, but I felt so comfortable around Lydia that it seemed natural to want to do ordinary things with her such as going to a football match.
I felt I could do anything with Lydia, although early in our relationship I was a bit worried about eating in front of her. I know it must sound a bit strange, because everyone knows that I love my food and that I can eat for England. But all the quips about my appearance were starting to make me feel uncomfortable and I was very conscious of my weight issue when I was around Lydia. She had a beautiful slender figure and here I was weighing 18 stone. I must have looked huge alongside her.
The first time we went for a meal together was at a restaurant called Zizzi’s in Loughton. I think we ordered pasta and I felt very shy eating in front of her. I cared about what she thought of me, so I didn’t want to sit there shovelling food in case she thought I was a slob. Mind you, we got on so well that it was only matter of time before we’d go for a meal and I’d eat my starter and main course and then help her to finish off hers, too. We would always order a sticky-toffee pudding with ice cream to share for dessert and I would eat most of it. Occasionally, I’d go too far. One of the first rows we ever had was when we’d ordered a portion of dough balls to share in Pizza Express. I was happily munching away at them and popping one into my mouth in between conversations. Suddenly, I realised there was only one left for Lydia, who hadn’t had a single one so far. She understandably got quite irate and accused me of being greedy.
I knew within a few weeks of flying back from Miami that I had fallen in love with Lydi
a and I hoped that she felt the same way. I was out one day when I bumped into a friend of hers who confided a secret to me.
‘You do know that Lydia loves you, don’t you?’ she said.
I wasn’t sure if she was joking, so I pressed her for more.
‘What? You reckon she’s in love with me?’
‘I know she is, because she’s told me.’
And with that short sentence I had the best feeling in the world. Nobody outside of my family had ever told me that they loved me and it gave me special warm sensation inside. A few days later I was at Lydia’s house reading a magazine in her bedroom while she lay on the bed.
‘James, come here, I’ve got something to tell you.’
I went and snuggled up bedside her.
‘I love you,’ she said.
I told Lydia that I felt the same way and we kissed and cuddled for a bit. And then Lydia put on some music, ‘Flying Without Wings’ by Westlife, and we slow-danced in her room, looking into each other’s eyes. I laugh now at how cringey it was, but at the time it was a very special moment. Debbie and Dave were now used to our spending time in her room together and didn’t mind, although there was one rule: Dave made it clear from the beginning that I could come around any time and stay as late as I liked, but I was strictly forbidden from spending the night there.
I had not made love to Lydia yet, but I knew that sooner or later she might be expecting it. In fact, it wasn’t until close to my twenty-first birthday, after we’d been dating for nearly four months, that it happened. My fear of having sex was starting to worry me. What had begun a few years ago with gentle ribbing from my mates over being a virgin had now turned into a big issue for me. To be honest, I was scared. I think blokes can have a lot of pressure put on them to perform ‘like a man’ from an early age, but some people develop more slowly in that respect. I guess I was just one of those people. If anyone reading this finds themselves in the same position my advice is not to stress about it, because that only makes it worse. It will develop naturally in time when you are ready, and that’s what happened with Lydia and me.