by Mark Timlin
'Me too. Is she your best friend?'
'One of them. I just moved to school here last term.'
'You live local?' It was half question, half statement.
'Yes. You?'
'Streatham.'
'What are you doing here?'
'Just on a wander. Sat down and saw you.'
'Don't.'
'Don't what?'
'You know.'
'Why not?'
'It's not right. Listen, I've got to go.'
Mark saw that the other four girls had stood up, collected their things and were looking in his and Linda's direction. 'Can I have your phone number?' he asked. 'No.'
'How about lunch tomorrow? We could get a burger.' 'No.'
'Please.'
'No.'
'What if I won't take no for an answer?'
'You'll have to.'
'Will I?'
'Yes.'
'I'm very persistent.'
'Don't be silly.'
'I'm not. And I'll be here waiting for you, come rain or shine,' he said as she walked away. 'Count on it.'
He waited to see if she turned, but she didn't. She joined her friends and they descended on her like a flock of bright birds. He imagined what they were saying and asking, but she never looked at him as they went back through the school gates and got lost in the crowd of school uniforms.
He was there the next day at the same time, but she didn't show up. He sat in the sunshine and knew he was being watched, but by whom he wasn't sure.
He came the following day and the day after, but there was still no sign of Linda Pierce.
The next day, Friday, May 14th. He'd never forget that day. It was raining buckets, but still he sat. on the same bench at the same time.
The park was empty. No kids, no ice cream man. Just Mark Farrow sitting with the collar of his jacket turned up against the wet when a lone figure in a blue mac came out of the school, down the drive, over the road and across the grass towards him. She was carrying an umbrella and as she got closer he realised it was the laughing blonde. She stopped in front of him, a big grin on her face. 'She said that you were persistent,' she said.
'I am,' he agreed.
'She was worried you'd catch a cold. She sent you this.' In her hand was a scrap of paper. The blonde gave it to Mark and he opened it. 'Tomorrow, twelve, the Wimpy in the Whitgift,' it read, and was signed 'Linda'.
'Why didn't she come herself?' asked Mark, suspecting a gag.
'She's a bit shy,' said the blonde. 'But she'll be there. She likes you. She's seen you waiting every day.'
'Thanks,' said Mark. 'Brenda, isn't it?'
She blushed at the question. 'Yeah,' she said and turned to go. But stopped and looked back. 'Gosh,' she said, a faraway look in her eyes. 'I wish a bloke would wait for me like you are for Linda.'
'One will,' said Mark.
'You reckon?'
'Anyone who can laugh like you do will never be lonely,' he said.
'Cor, but Linda's lucky,' said Brenda, and she walked back to school.
Mark held the note for a moment before putting it in his pocket and heading back towards his car.
Chapter 13
The following day, Mark was in Croydon an hour early for his meeting with Linda. He parked his car in the shopping centre garage again and joined the crowds looking for bargains in the Whitgift. He saw the Wimpy bar on the mezzanine and spent the next fifty minutes in a couple of book and record shops. He didn't buy anything. He was. too preoccupied with the thought of meeting Linda Pierce. John and Chas had asked where he was going and where he'd been every lunchtime that week, but he just smiled and kept schtum. 'Cherchez la femme,' John had said, and Mark hadn't disagreed.
'Got a bird?' asked Chas, never one to beat about the bush.
'Leave him,' said Hazel, ruffling his hair. 'You're only young once. Let him have his fun.'
'But no bun in the oven,' said Jenner.
'I said leave him,' said Hazel, and even tough John Jenner knew it was best to do what she said.
At quarter to twelve, Mark entered the steamy cafe that smelled of meat grilling, bought a coffee and sat at a table by the window. But he couldn't drink it. He just stirred the dun-coloured liquid, a hollow spot growing in his stomach as he convinced himself she wouldn't show, and had just sent the note to get rid of him. The place was just starting to fill with the lunchtime crowd and Mark watched the pedestrians walking by outside. Then he saw her and he had to take a sudden breath. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and carrying a small leather handbag, and he thought he'd never seen anyone look more wonderful in his whole life. She walked past the window where he was sitting and through the door, stopped and looked around. He couldn't help smiling as he raised his hand
to attract her attention, and she smiled back when she saw him and walked over. He knew then that it was love and that he'd never forget the moment if he lived forever.
'Hello,' he said and stood up.
'Hello,' she said back, and they just stood looking at each other until Mark said, 'What do you want? To drink I mean.' Suddenly he wasn't so self assured as he normally was around women.
'A milkshake, please,' she said. 'Chocolate.'
She sat, and he went to the counter and ordered the shake and when he took it back it wasn't the only thing shaking.
He put her drink on the table and sat opposite. 'I wondered if you'd come,' he said to break the silence.
'I wouldn't have sent the note if I wasn't.'
'I thought maybe your friends were having a laugh. You know, sending me on a wild goose chase.'
'They wouldn't dare. Anyway, they've been talking about nothing else all week.'
Mark looked out of the window. 'Do you think they might come and see?' he asked.
'I told them not to. But that Brenda…'
'She seems all right.'
'She fancies you.'
'What about you?'
Linda blushed. 'I don't know. But when I saw you sitting there all alone in the rain…'
'I told you I'd be there, come rain or shine.'
'I know.'
'Ray Charles,' said Mark.
'Who?'
He smiled again. 'Brother Ray.'
She shook her head in a bewildered fashion.
'You don't know who Ray Charles is?' he asked.
She shook her head once more.
'I'll play it for you one day. You'll like it…' he hesitated. 'At least I hope you will.'
'I'm sure I will if you do.'
He felt ten feet tall at that. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence.'
'Actually, I didn't know if I should come.'
'Why not?'
'Family reasons. You know…' She didn't finish her sentence. 'My mum. She's not been well the last few years.'
Mark could easily guess why. It's not every woman's husband who gets life for killing a policeman.
'Does your mum know you're meeting me?'
'God no.' She put her hand over her mouth. 'Sorry. I didn't mean…'
'That's OK. So where are you supposed to be?'
'Meeting the girls for window shopping. I hate lying to Mum, but…' Once again she didn't finish.
'I didn't mean to cause you problems,' he said.
'It's not you. Any boy would be the same.'
'Thanks,' he said, but he grinned to show he didn't mean it.
'Sorry.' Then she saw his face. 'Are you teasing me?' she asked.
He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do right then. 'Yes,' he said.
'You are terrible.'
'No I'm not. So what do you want to do? Now, I mean.'
'Go window shopping like I said I was going to.' She stopped herself again. 'Sorry. Boys don't like window shopping, do they?'
'You might be surprised. I don't mind what we do. Just as long as I'm with you.'
She gave him a look that could have meant anything. 'Fine,' she said. 'But I hope you've got comfortable shoes on.'
They finished their
drinks and left the restaurant and spent the next few hours wandering through Croydon, from the Mall to the market. By three they were both exhausted and Mark suggested a drink.
'Do I look eighteen today?' asked Linda. 'We've been thrown out of most of the pubs round here for being underage.' 'You bad girls.'
'We have our moments.'
'I bet you do, especially Brenda, eh?'
She frowned. 'Do you like her?'
'Why not?' Then he saw her look. 'I don't fancy her,' he said, 'if that's what you mean. But she seems like good company. Has she got a boyfriend?'
'One a week, our Bren,' said Linda.
They went into the Market Tavern and Linda sat in a quiet corner away from the staff and asked for an orange juice with ice. Mark went to the bar and ordered it, plus a pint of lager for himself. The place was buzzing and Buck's Fizz were loud on the jukebox.
'What are you doing later?' Mark asked casually when they were sitting comfortably.
'Revision,' she said.
'OK.'
'You don't mind?'
'Course not.'
'And they're expecting me for my tea soon.'
'They?' asked Mark, although he was well aware who they were.
'Mum and Dad. Well, he's my stepdad really, but I never really knew my real dad. And my brother.'
'What happened to your real dad?' asked Mark casually although he knew he was stepping on thin ice.
'He died,' said Linda. And by her tone he knew that she knew exactly what had happened to him.
'Mine too,' said Mark, not digging any deeper.
'I'm sorry.'
'I didn't know him either,' said Mark. 'I live with my uncle and his wife now.'
'Your aunt.'
'No. See, he's not really my uncle. I just call him that. He was a friend of my father's. They took me in.'
'And your mum. Is she dead too?'
'No. But she might as well be for all I see of her. She got into some bad ways. Drinking too much. Running with bad men. She's married now, but I couldn't live with them.' 'Why not?'
'He's a bit too fisty for my liking.' 'He hit you?'
'Me and Mum. I had to get out.' 'That's terrible.'
'I survived. But I worry about Mum. But she won't leave the bloke. He's had a few warnings, but… well, you know.' 'What kind of warnings?'
'From my uncle. But Mum's soft… Anyway, I don't want to talk about it.'
'My stepdad's great,' she said. Then hesitated. 'Sorry.'
'Don't be. It's not your fault my mum's a bloody fool. You're lucky.'
'Yes we are,' she agreed. 'He loves me and Sean.'
'That's your brother?'
'Yes. He's older than me. Nearer your age.'
'Almost a pensioner,' said Mark.
'Silly.'
'What does he do?' Mark asked. 'He's at college.' 'A smart boy.'
She nodded. 'So what do you do?'
'I work for my uncle.'
'Has he got his own business?'
'You might say that.'
'What kind of business?'
'Leisure.'
'And what do you do?'
'This and that.'
'You're a bit secretive.'
'No. It's just that I'm more interested in you.'
She blushed again. 'I'm not that interesting.'
'I think you are.'
'Tell me something,' she said after a moment.
'What?'
'Why did you come over to me last week?'
Mark thought for a moment. 'I told you that already.'
'Tell me again.'
'Because I thought you were beautiful.'
She shook her head. 'There are lots of beautiful girls in the world. Much more beautiful than I am. Why me?'
'That's it. I wanted to talk to you.'
She seemed satisfied by that. 'OK. Listen, I've got to go soon. The books call.'
'Can I see you again?'
'It's difficult.'
'I know. I'm too old for you and you've got your exams. When are they? Next month?'
She nodded.
'But I would like to see you.'
'And I'd like to see you too.'
'Give me your phone number.'
'No, I can't. It would be just too much of a problem. With Mum, you know. I know it sounds daft, but I've never had a boyfriend. Not a proper one. I'm sorry.'
'Well, I can't wait for it to rain so that you'll take pity on me again. Summer's coming.' She laughed at that.
'I'll give you my car phone number then,' said Mark. 'I'm out most of the time so it's easier than leaving messages at home.'
She seemed impressed that he had a car, let alone with a phone in. Those were the days before every hooligan had a mobile and they were still a bit of a novelty. 'I have to be around and about for work,' he explained as he jotted it down on a piece of paper from her bag.
'OK,' she said and tucked it away in one of the pockets.
'You will call me, won't you?'
'If I can.'
'Please, Linda.'
'All right, I'll call, but I can't say when.'
'Good.'
'Now I really must go.'
'Do you want me to give you a lift?'
'I can walk, it's not far.'
'I'd like to.'
'All right,' she said with a bit of reluctance. 'But you'll have to let me out round the corner. If my dad sees me getting out of a strange car, it'll be the Spanish Inquisition.' They finished their drinks and walked out into the Croydon sunshine and Mark took Linda's hand as they went back to the car park under the shopping precinct. She didn't object, and her warm fingers felt good intertwined with his. She admired the brand new car he was driving and he felt that everything was going his way. He put the problem of telling her how her father had gunned his down in a dirty gutter to the back of his mind. As he drove out of the garage he almost turned in the direction of her house before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to know where she lived, and asked directions.
She told him, and it just took a few minutes to get to the suburban streets on the outskirts of Croydon where she asked him to pull in about a quarter mile from her address. 'Call me soon,' he said.
'I'll try.'
'Please,' he said again, and he really meant it. He hadn't had such a happy afternoon since before Bobby Thomas had come into his mother's life and she'd taken him shopping up west for nothing in particular. Just a wander, as she'd called it. A look around the shops, and an ice cream for Mark on the way home.
'I will,' she said and kissed him quickly on the cheek before jumping out of the car and slamming the door behind her.
He watched as she trotted down the street in her high heels, her bottom swinging provocatively in her tight jeans, and he knew that one day they would be together.
She did call, but not for several weeks, and Mark had almost given up on her. 'Blimey,' he said, when he answered the phone and she'd identified herself. 'I thought you'd left the country.'
'I'm going to soon,' she replied. 'Two weeks in Spain with Mum, Dad and Sean.'
'Don't get arrested,' he said. 'You know what Brits abroad are like.'
'I won't. I'm going to be a good girl.'
'You're always a good girl as far as I can see.'
'Yeah, well.' There was a wistful tone in her voice.
'So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?'
'I've been thinking about you.'
'Have you?'
'You stopped coming round.' 'You made it pretty obvious you didn't want me to.' 'I never said that.' 'Not in so many words maybe.' 'You know what it was like…' 'No, I don't actually. You never let me get that close.' 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It was exams, and Mum and Dad. Bren said I was barmy, and could she have your number.' 'She never phoned.'
'Because I wouldn't give it to her. You'd've had her knickers off on the first date.'
'Would that have worried you?'
'Course it would.'
'I never would've g
uessed.'
'Well, it would.'
'So are the exams over?'
'S'right.'
'How did you do?'
'Pretty well I think, but the results won't be through for ages.'
'So you're free now?'
'More or less. Until we go away.' 'Can I take you out then?'
'It's still difficult…'
'But can I?'
'Suppose so.'
'Don't sound so keen.'
'I am, honest.'
'So, let me take you for a meal one evening.'
'I've never been for a meal with a boy.'
'There was the Wimpy.'
'That's different.'
Mark laughed.
'Don't laugh at me.'
'I'm not. Tonight?'
'No. Saturday. There's a party for the girls. End of exams. I could go then, they'll cover for me.'
'Secret Squirrel.'
'No, secret Brenda.'
'She's all right, that Brenda.'
'I knew you fancied her.'
'I fancy you.'
'And I fancy you.' So there it was. She'd finally admitted it, and Mark felt like king of the world.
They went for their meal that Saturday. Linda looked even better than Mark remembered, and years older than her age. When he took her home, before eleven, like she'd promised her family, they kissed in the front of the BMW. But Mark didn't force anything.
They dated all that summer, with the exception of the two weeks Linda spent on holiday. She wrote him eleven postcards, which he kept for years.
Finally, on a warm September evening, Linda surrendered her virginity in the back of the car. Mark was as tender as any nineteen year old could be, and afterwards she cried, and he didn't know if she was happy or sad, and she never told him. She smoked her first cigarette that night too, sharing a Silk Cut with Mark on the drive home. 'Do you want to see me again?' she asked when they stopped at the usual place, just round the corner from her house.
'Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?'
'You've got what you wanted, some boys don't. After. You know. So I've been told.'
'I'm not some boys.'
'So you do?'
'Try and keep me away.'
'Because we'll have to do it all the time now.'
'No.' • 'Why then?'
'Because I love you, Linda.' His mouth was dry and his hands trembled on the wheel as he said the words.
'Do you?'
'Since the first day I saw you.'
'In the park.'