by Janet Tanner
It was the first time Jenny had been to the youth club and it had taken all her powers of persuasion to talk Carrie into letting her come tonight.
‘I’ve heard things about that club,’ Carrie had said darkly.
‘Rowena goes! Her mum doesn’t mind.’
‘That’s all very well …’
‘Rowena’s a very nice girl,’ Joe had said.
‘I’ll think about it.’
She had thought, long and hard. Rowena was a nice girl, and she was also what Carrie called ‘a cut above’, by which she meant middle class. Rowena’s mother, whom Carrie had met at school functions, was a highly respectable widow with a quiet demeanour and an accent that was almost cut-glass. Like Carrie herself, she was older than most of the mothers and had once been ‘in service’ – a lady’s maid to the gentry in London. It was good for Jenny to have a friend like Rowena, Carrie decided. After much deliberation she had decided to let Jenny go to the youth club.
‘Our crowd’s all upstairs,’ Rowena said. ‘We’ll get a drink first though. What would you like – orange squash? It’s a bit hot up there for coffee.’
‘How much it is?’ Jenny asked. She only had two shillings – two weeks’pocket money.
‘Don’t worry – I’ll get it. I’ll have to, anyway, because you’re not a member yet.’
‘I’ll pay you back,’ Jenny promised.
‘No you won’t. I got five pounds for my birthday.’
Five pounds! Untold wealth! Rowena never seemed to be short of money.
They got their drinks and Rowena led the way upstairs. The record player was belting out ‘Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White’and the floor vibrated as couples jived. Jenny spotted Valerie Scott sitting on a small sofa with a much older boy. He had his arm round her and they were kissing. Jenny looked away, shocked. Ann and Kathy were bopping with two boys who also looked several years older and Jenny felt a qualm of misgiving.
‘Who are they?’
‘Tim and Dave. I’m feeling a bit fed up really,’ Rowena shouted over the music.
‘Why?’
‘I think they’re getting off with them. I know Ann likes Tim and I think he might like her too. I quite fancy Dave myself, but it looks like I’ve missed the boat.’
‘I’ll dance with you if you like,’ Jenny offered. The two of them often practised steps around Rowena’s front room.
‘Maybe. Later,’ Rowena said without enthusiasm. And then: ‘You know, I can’t imagine ever going out with anyone. I mean – how does it actually happen? It always seems that if you like somebody, they don’t like you, and if they like you, you don’t like them. It’s hopeless, really.’
They’d had this conversation before, when one of them developed a crush, or one of the other girls from their class was asked out on a date.
‘I think we’re going to finish up on the shelf,’ Rowena said.
‘You won’t,’ Jenny said. ‘I probably will.’
‘No – you’re really pretty! Haven’t you seen the way the boys look at you?’
‘Not really,’ Jenny said.
‘See – look – Barry Price is looking at you now!’
Jenny turned and saw a tall good-looking boy in a red sweater. He was indeed looking at her. Their eyes met and he wasn’t the one to look away. Jenny felt her cheeks go hot.
‘Who is he, anyway?’
‘Barry Price – I told you. He’s seventeen. And he’s got the most incredible green drop-handlebar bike you ever saw in your life.’
‘Oh!’ Jenny felt quite pleased with herself.
‘I bet you could get him to ask you out.’
‘I couldn’t,’ Jenny said. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t be allowed.’
This was all part of the turmoil she felt when she thought about boys. Hoping someone gorgeous would ask her out, yet at the same time afraid they might because then she really would have a problem. Carrie would never let her go in a million years and she’d have to say no and look a complete fool.
‘Mum says I’m not allowed to go out with boys until I’m sixteen.’
‘Sixteen! That’s years away!’
‘I know.’
‘She wouldn’t stop you,’ Rowena said. ‘Not if you had a really nice date.’
‘She would. She’d go into a foul mood and never come out.’
‘Your mum – in a foul mood? I can’t imagine that!’
‘She would. She does.’
‘I can’t believe it. She’s really good fun, your mum.’
‘Anyway,’ Jenny said, ‘it’s not going to happen, so there’s no point talking about it.’
‘Don’t be so sure – look! No – don’t look! Barry Price is coming over. Half a crown says he’s going to ask you for a dance. Oh! If he asks you to dance I’ll kill myself, I really will!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll say no,’ Jenny said, and she meant it. A feeling of utter panic was flooding between her ribs.
‘Don’t be so silly – you’ll do no such thing!’
‘Hi, Rowena,’ said the boy in the red sweater. And to Jenny, ‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ Jenny said weakly.
‘Haven’t seen you here before, have I?’
‘No, this is my first time.’
‘Jenny’s my friend at school,’ Rowena said, attempting to get back into the conversation. ‘I told her this is where the action is.’
‘Yeah.’ But he was still looking at Jenny. ‘Do you want to dance?’
Jenny hesitated. The panic was really building up now, suffocating her. One part of her wanted to run away, back down the stairs – home! But at the same time another part desperately wanted to be part of this noisy, fun, grown-up scene.
Rowena gave her a small push.
‘Go on!’
‘All right.’ Jenny smiled nervously, self-consciously. She was horribly sure she’d make a complete fool of herself, be unable to manage to dance a single step, fall over his feet, her feet, simply fall over full stop! But after the first few self-conscious twirls she fell into the rhythm and began to enjoy herself. It was just like dancing with Rowena, only easier, because he was taller than Rowena, she didn’t have to duck to get under his arm, and her feet moved more easily on the bare wood floor than on the carpet in Rowena’s front room.
She danced until she was breathless, her eyes shining, exertion making her cheeks glow. Then the music changed. They had put on a slow record – ‘Red Sails in the Sunset’.
‘Do you creep?’ Barry asked her.
‘I don’t know …’
‘It’s easy.’ He put his arms around her waist. Nervously, Jenny put her hands on his arms, which seemed a great deal more intimate than the position they adopted for the waltz and quickstep in dancing lessons at school but infinitely preferable to putting her arms around his neck as she could see most of the other girls were doing with their partners. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him – she did – but this was all happening much too fast for her.
His arms felt nice beneath her fingers, very – well – strong – and his jumper was soft and smelled of soap. She slid her hands up a bit further so they were resting almost on his shoulders and her feet moved effortlessly as he guided her backwards. He was right – it was easy!
When he pulled her closer, though, the panic began again. Someone had dimmed the lights. Supposing he tried to kiss her? Kissing was something she really didn’t know how to do and anyway … she thought of Valerie, snogging on the sofa, and the disgust she had felt, and thought: No! No! I’m not ready for this!
He didn’t try to kiss her, just laid his cheek against hers, but the panic wouldn’t go away. When the record ended she looked round for Rowena, but couldn’t see her anywhere.
‘She’s all right.’
‘No – I must find her! Thanks for the dance …’ She fled, like Cinderella on the stroke of midnight.
Rowena was in the coffee bar area downstairs with a group of other young people.
‘Oh there you are!’ Jenny sai
d, relieved. ‘I thought you’d gone!’
‘I thought you had. A dance! That’s a laugh! You must have had at least half a dozen!’
‘I couldn’t get away.’
‘I could see that! I thought he’d forgotten to have his supper and was going to eat you instead!’
‘Oh, Rowena – it wasn’t like that …’ She hesitated. ‘Shall we go back up?’
‘No, I’m down here now,’ Rowena said. She turned away from Jenny, back to the crowd she had been talking to. They obviously all knew one another but Rowena made no attempt to introduce Jenny and Jenny experienced a feeling of déjà vu – this was how she had used to feel. An outsider, looking in, afraid to join in the conversation in case they thought she was gate-crashing, afraid anyway that she’d say the wrong thing.
She watched the stairs surreptitiously, hoping that Barry might come down looking for her and at the same time afraid of what would happen if he did. But when he did come down it was with another boy and he didn’t so much as glance in her direction, just bought a drink then disappeared back upstairs again.
Rowena must have noticed. She took pity on Jenny, linked arms with her and included her in the conversation.
Some time later Jenny glanced at the clock and was amazed and horrified to see it was almost half past nine.
‘I’m going to have to go home,’ she said to Rowena.
‘Already?’
‘Right this minute! I’m supposed to be in …’
‘My mum’s coming for me,’ Rowena said. ‘She’ll give you a lift if you wait.’
‘I can’t – honestly! I’ll be in dead trouble!’
She ran all the way home. Carrie was looking out of the front-room window.
‘What time do you call this, young lady?’
‘I’m not very late, am I?’
‘When I say half past nine, I mean half past nine, not quarter to ten.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jenny said. ‘We were talking. I didn’t notice the time.’
‘She’s here now,’ Joe said. ‘Did you enjoy yourself, Jenny?’
‘Yes. It was super.’
‘Well, we’ll say no more about it this time,’ Carrie said. ‘But if you want to go again, you’ll remember to keep an eye on the clock.’
‘I will. I promise.’
She’d got away with it this time. Jenny sighed inwardly with relief. She went up to bed but she was much too excited to sleep. A whole new world was opening up. Jenny couldn’t wait to be part of it.
When she went to school on Monday, Rowena was waiting for her in the cloakroom.
‘Have I got something to tell you!’
‘You’ve got a date,’ Jenny said, feeling hollow inside suddenly. She and Rowena had often commiserated that they must be the only girls of their age in the whole world who had never been on a date – now the only one would be her.
‘Yes.’ Rowena smiled smugly. ‘But I’m not the only one. So have you.’
‘Me? What are you talking about?’
‘Listen and I’ll tell you! After you’d gone, Trevor Wallis asked me to dance. And then he asked me out. Trevor Wallis – you know? Anyway, he’s friends with Barry Price. So I said I’d only go if it was a foursome. And he said Barry Price wanted to go out with you anyway. So there you are! I’ve said we’ll go for a bike ride with them on Thursday.’
Jenny’s heart had begun to hammer a tattoo.
‘Thursday! This Thursday?’
‘Yes. What do you think? I couldn’t wait to tell you! Isn’t it smashing?’
‘I don’t know!’ Jenny said. ‘I won’t be allowed. I know I won’t. Not with a boy.’
‘Don’t say you’re with a boy then. Just say you’re with me.’ The bell rang, summoning them to class. ‘We can’t miss a chance like this,’ Rowena said.
Throughout the morning’s lessons Jenny found concentration impossible. She kept turning the options over in her mind: (1) Tell Rowena she didn’t want to go; (2) Ask Carrie’s permission which would almost certainly be refused; or (3) Go along with Rowena’s suggestion. She didn’t like the thought of deceiving Carrie but she wouldn’t actually be telling a lie. She would be with Rowena and it was pretty unlikely Carrie would ever learn they hadn’t been alone. If by some remote chance they were spotted she could always plead innocence – say they’d just happened to run into the boys by chance.
‘All right,’ she said to Rowena at lunchtime. ‘I’ll come.’
‘I should think so too!’
‘Where are we supposed to meet them?’
‘They’re coming to my house at seven o’clock.’
Jenny felt a stab of envy. Lucky Rowena, having such an understanding mother!
‘Could I come to tea at yours?’
‘If you like.’
That was the answer, without doubt. If she had to cycle from home to keep her date, Jenny was sure Carrie would spot her guilt a mile off, and in any case, being with Rowena would ensure she didn’t lose her nerve!
It was almost frighteningly easy.
‘Rowena’s asked me to tea on Thursday,’ she said. ‘We can do our homework and then go for a bike ride or something.’
Close to the truth as it was, she still kept her fingers tightly crossed in her blazer pocket as a sort of insurance.
‘As long as you do do your homework and not waste time chattering,’ Carrie said. ‘And as long as you’re home before it gets dark. I don’t trust that battery in your bicycle lamp.’
‘I will be,’ Jenny promised.
It was May now; the evenings were getting longer and lighter all the time. Her only worry was that it might be raining on Thursday and Carrie wouldn’t let her ride her bike to school at all.
She need not have worried. Thursday dawned a perfect day. Jenny packed a cotton skirt and a blouse into a bag and draped it over the handlebars of her bicycle. Rowena’s mother would let her iron them if they came out creased.
All day she was in a state of nervous excitement and by the time school was out panic had set in.
‘Oh, I don’t want to do this!’ she wailed. ‘I won’t know what to say! I’ll look a complete nana.’
‘Jenny! Ooh, I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t fixed this up for you! Did you really want to be the only girl in the year not to have been on a date?’
‘Diane hasn’t. I’m sure she hasn’t!’
‘Well, if you want to be classed with Diana.’
‘I don’t!’
‘Well then – buck your ideas up!’
They had tea – ham and salad, followed by gooseberry fool. Jenny was so worked up by now she could scarcely swallow. Afterwards, they went upstairs to get changed and Jenny risked borrowing some of Rowena’s lipstick. It was quite pale really and she could always wipe it off before she went home!
Just before seven o’clock, Jenny and Rowena looked out of Rowena’s bedroom window and saw the boys sitting astride their bicycles against the wall on the opposite side of the road. The nervousness was physical now.
‘I feel sick,’ she said.
‘No you don’t.’
‘I do! I can’t go, Ro!’
‘It’s too late to back out now,’ Rowena said.
They collected their bicycles and the boys rode over to meet them, acting very casual. They cycled down the road in a loose group, then turned into the lanes, exchanging banter as they went. Jenny still felt sick and she was very conscious of the wind getting under her skirt and blowing it up to expose her legs. She rode with one hand on the handlebars whilst trying to hold her skirt down with the other.
After a while they stopped in a gateway and the boys suggested they should split up. Jenny wasn’t at all sure she liked the idea but didn’t want to look like a spoilsport by saying so. They agreed to meet back at the gateway in an hour and Rowena and Trevor cycled off.
‘We don’t have to ride if you don’t want to,’ Barry said. ‘We could leave our bikes here and walk if you like.’
He must have noticed the trou
ble she was having with her skirt, Jenny thought.
Barry lifted the bicycles over the gate and they hid them in the hedge. The field sloped in a series of hummocks to the valley beyond. Barry put his arm around her, quite lightly, and she was surprised how nice it felt.
‘I didn’t think you’d want to go out with me,’ he said.
‘Why did you think that?’ Jenny asked.
‘You going to Grammar School and that. I mean … it’s a bit posh compared to where I went, isn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t call it posh,’ Jenny said.
‘You know what I mean. You learn Latin and all that stuff, don’t you?’
‘Well … yes … but … it’s just a school.’
He pulled a face that said it was much more than that.
‘Anyway, when you dashed off the other night I thought that was it.’
‘I told you – I had to find Rowena. And then I had to go home. My mum’s very strict. If I’m not in when I’m supposed to be, she goes mad.’
‘I expect that’s because she worries about you,’ he said.
Jenny looked at him, surprised. It was how Carrie explained her rules and regulations certainly, but she hadn’t expected to hear it coming from an extremely dishy seventeen-year-old boy.
‘Rowena’s mum’s not like that,’ she protested.
‘You should be glad,’ he said. ‘You should be glad she cares so much about you.’ There was something in the way he said it that was almost wistful. Jenny found herself wondering what his home was like, and his parents.
‘What do you do?’ she asked.
‘Me? I’m an apprentice mechanic.’
‘Oh.’ She knew nothing about cars and engineering and didn’t want to show her ignorance. She pulled a long blade of grass, waving it between her fingers, watching the seeds fly.
‘Next year,’ she said, ‘those seeds will be more grass.’ She didn’t stop to think as once she would have done what a very banal and naive thing that was to say. At that moment she felt as if she was uncovering some deep universal truth, savouring it for the first time.