Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  Ian pulled his hand away. ‘I’m sorry … you’ve made a mistake,’ he managed to say, but his words sounded gruff and hesitant. He was unsure how Darren might take his rejection – he might turn nasty – so he half-smiled at him. ‘I’m sorry but I’m not … you know … like that. I hadn’t realized …’

  Fortunately Darren also smiled, rather sheepishly. He shrugged. ‘Well, then, I’m sorry, too, for jumping to the wrong conclusion. I thought, when you said you kept yourself to yourself and you hadn’t made many friends, you might be looking for someone … like me. Sorry, my mistake.’

  Ian was nonplussed. It was the first time, to his knowledge at least, that he had met anyone ‘like that’. He had heard about them; homosexuals was the correct word, but he had heard them referred to as ‘queers’ or ‘nancy boys’. He did not want to think of Darren like that. He liked him; he had thought he was forming a good male friendship, such as he had had with Steve and Gary and Mike. He felt and must have looked bewildered. Darren touched his hand again but this time in a matey way.

  ‘Not to worry; no harm done, I hope. Let’s forget about it.’

  But Ian knew he would not be able to forget about it so easily. His eyes had been opened to something he didn’t really understand.

  ‘Actually … I’ve got a girlfriend,’ he said, talking quickly and, he hoped, confidently to try to cover his embarrassment. You know how I said I go to help my sister and brother-in-law in Yorkshire? Well, that’s where I met Sophie. She was helping out as a waitress but she’s at college now in Leeds, training to be a teacher. So I’ll be seeing her again next week.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Darren. ‘Like I said, I’m sorry – my mistake. No hard feelings, eh?’

  ‘No, not at all.’ Ian was breathing an inward sigh of relief; it might have been awkward. ‘I hope … I hope you find what you’re looking for,’ he added a little diffidently.

  ‘I might; one still has to be careful,’ said Darren. ‘I had a friend back home but we went our separate ways. Such is life! Now, what about one more drink before we get thrown out? Orange juice again?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ Ian nodded, still feeling dazed and out of his depth.

  Darren behaved quite normally when he returned with the drinks. He, too, had gone on to orange juice. After a final chorus of ‘Now is the Hour’ they all started to drift away.

  ‘Shall we share a taxi?’ said Darren. ‘We go the same way and I don’t want to walk. It’s OK, you’ll be quite safe!’ he added.

  ‘Fine,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll pay; my dad gave me the money and you get out before me.’

  There were a few taxis outside waiting for the late-night trade. They spoke very little during the journey home.

  ‘Cheerio, then,’ said Darren as he got out at his digs. ‘Have you enjoyed it … in spite of everything?’

  ‘Yes, I have, honestly,’ said Ian. ‘Bye, then – see you tomorrow, no doubt.’ There were two days left before the Christmas break.

  The bungalow was in darkness as he let himself in. He went straight to bed, his mind buzzing with all the new experiences and revelations. All the same, he had enjoyed it immensely.

  SIX

  ‘Now we can start to think about our own Christmas festivities,’ said Janice to Phil at four o’clock on the Saturday, which was Christmas Eve.

  There had been a steady number of customers, mainly at lunchtime with last-minute Christmas shoppers, but fewer in the afternoon. The cafe looked bright and full of Christmas cheer. A small tree with glistening baubles stood in the window, tasteful arrangements of holly and ivy, trimmed with red and green ribbons, graced each table and the walls were adorned with clusters of tiny silver stars. A large red poinsettia on the cash desk added the finishing touch.

  Only Janice and Phil, Ian and Sophie remained at the end of the afternoon. Toby, the assistant chef, had gone home after lunch, as had the other waitress. Sophie Miller, Ian’s friend, had been only too pleased to help out again to earn a little towards her college expenses.

  They tidied up the tables for the last time for a few days – they would open again on Thursday – and stacked the pots in the dishwasher.

  ‘Will you stay and have a cup of tea with us, Sophie?’ asked Janice. ‘I think we deserve one, don’t you?’

  ‘No, thanks all the same,’ Sophie replied. ‘I’ve quite a lot to do at home. All my presents to wrap, for one thing. I’m very much behind with all that. And I promised I’d help Mum with a few jobs ready for tomorrow … I’ll see you tonight, though, Ian, like we arranged. We’re going to the Christmas Eve Service. Did Ian tell you?’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ said Janice, ‘and we’re coming along too. I said to Phil that it would be a nice thing to do, so I asked the lady next door if she would babysit. I’m afraid we don’t go to church as often as we should. I know we’re closed on Sundays but we tend to regard it as a day of rest for us. And there’s Sarah, of course.’ She smiled, rather apologetically. ‘But it’s all too easy to make excuses for not going, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Sophie. ‘Mum and Graham said they’d go along as well tonight. Mum said, like you did, that it’s a good thing to do … So I’ll see you later, Ian. I’ll meet you outside the church at about eleven o’clock. OK?’

  ‘Yes, see you then,’ Ian said as Sophie put on her coat and made for the door. ‘No, wait a minute – I’ll walk home with you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she retorted. ‘I’m a big girl, aren’t I? I’m not going to get lost.’ She blew him a kiss and went out into the darkness of the early twilight.

  Ian went upstairs to the comfortable living room. There was a coal fire blazing in the hearth. The place was centrally heated but they preferred the cosiness of a fire in winter. A large tree stood in the window and Phil had switched the lights on, only partially drawing the curtains so that it shone out into the darkness like many other trees in the neighbourhood.

  A pile of presents lay beneath it, the majority of them for little Sarah Lilian, now aged fifteen months. She was too young to know about Father Christmas but Janice insisted that she should have a stocking to open in her cot. Even though she didn’t understand the significance, Janice did, and she would have just as much pleasure from it as her daughter.

  Ian had been there since Tuesday. He had spent the weekend in Blackpool, not wanting to be seen to dash away too quickly, taken a train to Harrogate on Tuesday morning and met Phil at the station as usual.

  ‘We’ll be glad of your help,’ Phil had told him. ‘We’re particularly busy in the evenings with Christmas meals, so perhaps you could give us a hand at the tables then? Not every evening, though,’ he’d added with a smile. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Sophie is working with us again, and I know you’ll want to spend some time with her.’

  Ian had been pleased to hear that and he’d hoped that Sophie, likewise, would want to spend some time with him. She had called at Grundy’s to offer her services, and Janice and Phil had been pleased to employ her again.

  She’d been busy waitressing when Ian arrived but popped up to see him later in the family living room. He’d felt a little shy at seeing her again after so long; it had been about three months. He didn’t kiss her as he was embarrassed with his sister being there, but they arranged that they would meet later that evening.

  ‘Unless you want me as a waiter tonight?’ he’d asked Phil.

  ‘No, you can start tomorrow,’ Phil had said, ‘and we’ll see how it goes.’

  Ian had walked round to Sophie’s home, a few minutes’ walk away, at half past seven that Tuesday evening. She’d invited him in to say hello to her mother and stepfather, Graham. He had met them occasionally and found them very friendly and welcoming.

  When he had first met Sophie they had found that they had this in common. Ian’s father had remarried and so had Sophie’s mother – and her father as well – but in her case it had been because of divorce. Her father had met a younger woman and they now had a l
ittle girl. Sophie said that she got on well with Graham now but she had resented him at first – or had pretended to do so – just as Ian had done with Norma. But all was well again with the two families.

  The shyness they had felt at meeting again soon disappeared. Ian had kissed her gently as they walked along a secluded pathway on the Stray. They had decided to walk into Harrogate, find a snack bar that was still open and have a good chat. Ian felt a warm glow of fondness and friendship rather than desire as he looked at her. She was a very pretty girl with dark hair that curled gently beneath her green woollen hat. She’d worn her green and white striped college scarf and he had said how dashing it looked.

  ‘So you’re enjoying college life?’ he’d asked.

  ‘Yes, very much so. What about you? How’s the catering course going?’

  ‘Great; I’m really getting into it. I think I’m becoming quite proficient; well, I hope I am.’

  ‘Good. Will you be helping Phil in the kitchen?’

  ‘I might, if he’ll let me. I can make a decent apple pie. And we’ve made Christmas puddings; I gave mine to Norma. But I expect Phil and Janice made theirs ages ago.’

  There was a jolly, seasonal feeling to the town. Coloured lights shone from the trees along the Stray; a large Christmas tree stood in the main square and shop windows were still ablaze with lights, displaying toys, stylish clothes and a myriad of tempting ideas for gifts.

  They’d found a snack bar on the main street that was still open, sat at a corner table at the back and ordered strawberry milkshakes and slices of chocolate log with cream that looked delicious.

  ‘Now, tell me about college,’ Ian had said. ‘Have you learnt how to teach a class of children?’

  She’d laughed. ‘Well, I’ll get there eventually, I suppose. We’ve had our first teaching practice, being left in charge of a class, but only for part of the time; for PE and story time and just a few lessons. The rest of the time we spent observing the teachers. The kids were nice and friendly, five- and six-year-olds and not too difficult to handle. It was a poor area, though, and an old-fashioned Victorian building; quite an eye-opener really. But I got good reports from my tutors and the class teacher, so I’m quite pleased with myself.’

  ‘And what about the … er … social side of the college? I suppose there are all sorts of things to do?’

  ‘Yes, whatever takes your fancy. There’s a film society – they show really ancient films! And there’s country dancing, amateur dramatics and a choir, if you can sing. Actually, I’ve joined that because I enjoyed singing at school. And there are dances on a Saturday night at some of the halls of residence; they take it in turns.’

  ‘And … do you go to them?’

  ‘Yes, why not?’ She’d answered him a trifle pertly. ‘But I haven’t met “anybody”, if that’s what you want to know,’ she’d added with a wry grin. ‘We did say, didn’t we, Ian, that we didn’t want to get serious, that we’d just see how things go?’

  ‘Of course we did.’ He realized he must be careful what he said or he might lose her altogether. ‘I just wondered, that’s all. You might as well enjoy whatever’s going on while you’re there.’

  ‘There are more girls than men,’ she’d said. ‘Five women’s halls and three for the men. And, on the whole, the men are about two years older than us because they’ve done their National Service. There are not enough to go round! Only joking,’ she’d added.

  ‘Yes, National Service,’ Ian had said. ‘That’s something I’ve just escaped. It’s coming to an end in December, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, so it is. Would you have liked to have gone?’

  ‘Not sure. It would certainly have been an experience. Phil was in the RAF, you know, stationed near Blackpool. That’s when he met Janice. So it turned out well for him. Some of the lads at our college have been excused because they’re already in the middle of their training.’

  ‘So what about the social life at your place?’ Sophie had asked. ‘Do you take part in it?’

  ‘I miss out on a lot of it because I’m living at home. Some of the others have made more friends because they meet together in the evenings. Actually, I did go to a party at one of the hotels on the prom last week. A lad I met invited me. There were a couple of the lads playing guitars and singing and one of the girl students sang; she was really good. And there was lots to drink and eat, of course.’

  ‘So you enjoyed it?’

  ‘Yes, I did, in spite of everything!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I had a strange experience …’ He’d gone on to tell her, in hushed tones, about Darren and how he had made tentative suggestions towards him. ‘Honestly, I was scared stiff at first! I was worried he might turn nasty when I spurned his advances but he was OK about it. I’ve seen him since then and he’s not said anything else, thank goodness!’

  Sophie had laughed. ‘And you had no idea he was that way inclined?’

  ‘No, why should I? It’s something I’ve not really thought about very much. Don’t know much about it, to be honest. There was a lad at school who seemed rather … odd, and we were suspicious about one of the masters. But … it’s a punishable offence, isn’t it?’

  ‘Supposed to be, but I rather think a blind eye is turned a lot of the time, if the couples are discreet about it. They’re starting to call them “gay” now, rather than “queer”. It sounds better somehow, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Ian still felt confused about it all. ‘I thought that gay meant bright and cheerful?’

  ‘Well, now it stands for “good as you” as well as its proper meaning, and it’s not just men, you know, who can be that way inclined.’

  ‘You mean … women as well?’

  ‘Well, yes; apparently there are girls or women who sometimes fancy one another. There were two mistresses at our school who were always together. One taught PE and the other taught French; as different as chalk and cheese, but they were very close friends.’

  Ian had looked bewildered. ‘I can’t imagine it.’

  ‘No, neither can I,’ Sophie had agreed. ‘But I’m not really bothered. Live and let live is what I say. There might come a time in the future when no one is bothered about it. Apparently it’s never been a punishable offence for women because Queen Victoria refused to believe that women would behave like that, so they never passed an Act of Parliament about it.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ Ian had asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s surprising what girls talk about when they get together! Anyway, let’s change the subject. What are your plans for Christmas?’

  ‘It’ll be a quiet Christmas Day so that Janice and Phil can relax after all the extra work. And it’ll be fun with little Sarah; not that she understands all about it but I’m sure she’ll be excited. I’m her godfather, you know, so I take a great interest in her. Then I expect we’ll go to Ilkley on Boxing Day to visit Phil’s parents. Then on the Tuesday my dad and Norma are coming and staying overnight. It’ll be the first time they’ve done that. So it’ll be like Christmas Day all over again, I suppose. But we’ll be able to spend some time together, you and me, won’t we?’

  ‘Yes, sure. But I’ll be catching up with some of the girls from school. My friend, Sharon, is at a training college in Manchester, and Dawn has started her nursing training at the hospital here. Anyway, you’re waiting on for some of the evenings, aren’t you?’

  ‘Just Wednesday and Friday, Phil suggested, so maybe we could go somewhere on the Thursday night? But I’ll see you during the day, of course.’

  ‘Yes, that sounds OK. Come on, let’s go. We’ve been here ages and they’ll want to close. We don’t want to get thrown out!’

  They’d walked home hand in hand, happy to be together but not saying very much; they had already done a great deal of talking. Ian was reflecting on what a friendly and uncomplicated girl Sophie was. Not sophisticated as some girls were – or pretended to be – but already she seemed more knowledgeable
about the ways of the world than he was.

  He’d walked all the way home with her and they’d exchanged a couple of loving kisses at her gate.

  ‘Thanks for a lovely evening,’ she’d said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, see you, it’s been great.’

  He’d had a spring in his step as he walked back. Life was good and full of promise, and he was growing more mature and sure of himself with each passing day.

  They had met during the daytime, going about their duties, then went out again on the Thursday evening. There was a rerun of the film Calamity Jane showing at one of the smaller cinemas and, as Sophie was a fan of Doris Day, Ian had agreed readily to the idea. He’d enjoyed it, too, and they’d spent another happy evening together.

  Their next outing was rather different; the carol service at the local church, which was not far from either of their homes. And tonight they were with their respective families.

  Phil and Janice’s neighbour, who owned the florist’s shop next door, had willingly agreed to babysit. She didn’t go out much in the evenings but this was very near and she was fond of all three of them.

  Janice and Phil, Sophie’s mum, Jean, and Graham said hello to one another when they met outside the church. Janice and Phil had attended it only very rarely since Sarah’s christening but they were made to feel very welcome by many of the parishioners who knew them.

  The six of them sat in a pew about halfway down. There was a good number of people there already and more arriving every minute as the organist played a selection of Christmas music from ‘The Messiah’ and some of the less familiar Christmas carols.

  There was a warm and friendly atmosphere. The church dated from the Victorian era, with high-backed oak pews and flat cushions and kneelers of cherry red. Sprigs of holly and small Christmas roses decorated the windowsills and a display of richly hued chrysanthemums of gold, russet and orange graced the altar.

  They knew it would be a short service, starting at eleven fifteen and ending at midnight. There was a hush in the congregation as the organist played the introduction to ‘Once in Royal David’s City’. They all stood as the choir walked round the church and the sweet and clear voice of a young boy chorister sang the first verse, then the choir joined in and, lastly, the whole congregation.