by Fenton, John
He took up a position in the centre of the yard and blew another loud blast on his whistle. We all started to jog around the yard.
After about ten minutes of jogging Brother Michael blew his whistle again. He shouted, ‘Speed it up. I want you all to run around the yard. No jogging.’
We set off at a fair sprint. I got into my stride, running at the same pace as the football squad did in training. Lap after lap went past and I felt relaxed and comfortable at my steady pace. Boys were stopping and bending down with a stitch and some were just giving up. Very soon there were only six of us left running around the perimeter and the rest of the school sat down to watch.
Ten minutes later the whistle blew again. Brother Michael said, ‘That’s enough. You can carry on with what you were doing.’ He walked back into the school block and out of our sight.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Bernie.
I shook my head. ‘I haven’t a clue but I quite enjoyed it. There were only six of us left at the end and I was hoping that it was going to go on to see who was the last one running.’
‘It would have been me,’ Bernie said. ‘I’m the best.’
‘It would only have been you if I’d fallen over and broken a leg.’ I playfully pushed Bernie away from me. ‘I was tracking you with no problem. I could have overtaken you any time I wanted to.’
‘In your dreams, John. In your dreams.’ Bernie pointed to the chapel wall. ‘Let’s start again and I’ll show you what a wanker you are.’
We started running around the perimeter again. The pace wasn’t dynamic but it was steady. We’d been running for the best part of fifteen minutes when Brother Michael came back into the yard. He blew his whistle again and ordered us to line up in our houses. When we were all lined up he took out a piece of paper from beneath his cassock and announced: ‘I have selected the runners to represent us at the Home Office Schools Championship Finals. It is going to be held at Erith Stadium on the 15th of this month. There will be teams from all of the approved schools and the competition will be fierce. All the boys I have selected will be excused from their trades and will train hard for the next two weeks.’
He consulted the piece of paper. ‘The 100 yards: Peter Tingle.’ There were loud groans of disappointment from some of the boys who fancied themselves as sprinters. ‘The 220 yards: David Tate.’ More groans. ‘The 440 yards: Bernard Connors.’
‘Well done, Bernie,’ I shouted.
Brother Michael dropped his piece of paper and hastily stamped his foot on it to stop it blowing away. He picked it up and uncrumpled it. ‘The 880 yards: Andrew Devine.’
All the boys made a loud hissing noise. Andrew Devine had to walk the walk of shame every morning with his sheets. He had a weak bladder and wet his bed nearly every night of the week and had to bring the wet sheets down to assembly in the morning. When the master called out the words ‘Wet beds’ the hissing would start. His face was always beetroot red as he walked to the front and dropped his soiled sheets in a large laundry basket.
Brother Michael held up his hand for silence. ‘That’s enough of that.’ The school went silent again. ‘The one mile: John Fenton and Liam Donovan.’
I was in a daze. I had been selected to represent the school and I was bursting with pride. I was no longer a nonentity, no longer an also-ran; I was a representative for the school in the mile race. They might even take a photograph of me, providing I won, and put it on the recreation room wall.
Bernie grabbed me in a bear hug. ‘We’re in the team, John.’
‘I know, Bernie. I can’t believe it.’ We went over to the washroom door and sat down on the top step. ‘I’m going flat out to win that race, Bernie. I want to be a winner.’
David Tate came sauntering up. He was a skinny, fifteen-year-old boy with exceptionally crooked teeth and a nervous twitch that screwed up his face three or four times a minute. He grinned, revealing his twisted ivory, and said, ‘There will be girls at Erith as well. There will be loads of tits and fanny on show and maybe we’ll get some.’
‘How the fuck do you know who’ll be at Erith?’ Bernie asked. ‘Have you been there before?’
Neither of us liked Tate much. He had been caned twice for masturbating in the toilets.
‘You just want something to wank over,’ Bernie sneered.
‘It’s the Home Office Schools Championship. Not the Home Office Schools for Boys Championship.’ His face screwed up in a nervous twitch. ‘There are girls’ approved schools as well. I’ll bet you a roll-up I’m right.’
‘Fuck off, Tate,’ Bernie said. ‘Go and tell someone else about your dreams. We’re not interested in your bullshit.’
Tate’s face screwed up again. He turned around and wandered away in the direction of Peter Tingle, who was sitting against the far wall with a few of his mates.
‘He’s one weird cunt,’ said Bernie, ‘but wouldn’t it be great if he was right?’
I nodded my head as I didn’t know what to say. Mum had instilled in me from a very early age that girls were to be treated with respect. ‘They are not as strong as boys and should always be treated with gentleness and reverence,’ she had told me on numerous occasions. ‘Never take advantage of them and never lift a hand to them. Only the worst sort of man hits a woman. Treat them the same as you would treat a fragile toy.’ I knew in my heart I would honour her wishes but how could I do it without making myself look an idiot in front of the other boys? I looked at Bernie and hoped he was in the same predicament as me.
‘Have you ever been with a girl?’ I said. ‘I mean, really been with a girl?’
‘Once. I’ve been all the way once.’ Bernie smiled at the memory. ‘It was with one of my sister’s friends a couple of months ago. I went home on a first Sunday and my sister had her friend Janice around for the day. My sister has a boyfriend and she asked me to look after Janice while she met up with him before dinner. We were playing records in my room and messing about and somehow we ended up snogging. I was having a good feel of her tits when all of a sudden she undid my trousers and pulled out my dick. She pulled aside her knickers and pushed my dick inside her. She was only thirteen years old but she was a great fuck and we’re meeting up the next time I go home.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about it before now?’ I asked. ‘I thought we told each other everything.’
‘We do, but this was private. I told her that I wouldn’t tell anyone about what we had done.’
‘Then why did you tell me now?’ I said. ‘You could have kept the secret.’
‘Fuck off, John.’ Bernie was getting annoyed. ‘You asked me a question and I answered it. I only told you about it as you are my best friend. I wish I hadn’t now you’re making a big deal about it.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make a big deal about it.’ I was embarrassed. ‘It’s just that I’ve never been anywhere near a girl. I don’t even know what to do and I’m not so sure that I want to.’
Bernie laughed. ‘Nor did I a couple of months ago. It is the most natural thing in the world. Take my word for it. When you get to touch your first pair of tits or mess around with a girl’s tush, you’ll know what to do and you’ll want to do it again.’
Bernie had given me no comfort. It was obvious that he would be after anything he could get from the girls and he expected me to do the same. I had been quite shocked at his revelation about his sister’s friend and in awe at his casual indifference to what had occurred. How could he say ‘She was a great fuck?’ Mum had told me that when a man and a woman went together it should be a wonderful experience and treasured by both of them. ‘She was a great fuck’ didn’t sound like a treasured moment to me. I decided that once again I would have to go it alone and try to do what was right.
‘Why the long face?’ Bernie asked. ‘You should be smiling at the thought of getting your first bit of tush.’
‘You smile, Bernie. I don’t feel like it.’ I scowled at the dilemma I was in. ‘It’s all new to me and I’ll decide wh
at I want to do on the day.’
‘I never doubted it. Now can we stop talking about something that won’t even happen and go for a smoke instead?’ He took a crumpled roll-up out of his sock and rolled it between his fingers until it was smokeable. ‘Let’s go. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’
He was wrong. Thirteen days later we knew that there would be girls at Erith. Bernie was jumping for joy. I was quivering in my boots.
Erith Sports Stadium was a modern stadium that had been built as part of a government plan to help England attract some of the big European sporting events. As our coach pulled into the stadium we were amazed at its size. It was huge. The eight-lane running track was freshly marked out into lanes and the huge central plot of land was split into sections for the field events. The only field events that were taking place at this meeting were the long jump and the high jump. A large covered grandstand ran along the entire length of the finishing straight and the remainder of the track was circled by concrete stands that offered good viewing but scant protection from the weather.
There must have been at least fifty to sixty other coaches parked up when we arrived. Bernie was craning his neck to see who was in them. His face lit up as our coach pulled in next to a coach filled with girls. The girls all waved frantically and I could see a few women in grey suits running up and down the aisle trying to restore some sort of order and decorum. They were failing miserably as the girls were totally ignoring them and intent on shouting out of the small ventilation windows.
Brother Michael shouted loudly from the front of our coach, ‘Stay sitting down. I don’t want any shouting or yelling. Totally ignore those girls.’
His voice fell on deaf ears as boys were scrabbling to open their windows and strike up conversations. I couldn’t believe my eyes when one of the girls sitting next to a window pulled up her blouse and exposed a pair of snowy white breasts with beautiful pinky-red nipples. A great cheer went up from all of the boys and Brother Michael quickly got out of our coach and went to speak to a woman on the girls’ coach. The woman quickly charged down to where the girl was sitting and pulled her unceremoniously from her seat. The girl’s ample bosom wobbled delightfully as the woman tried to pull down her blouse and cover her up.
Bernie sighed, ‘This is going to be a great day.’ He pointed at a petite girl of about fourteen years old who was staring at us with unbridled interest. ‘Me and her are definitely going to fuck today.’ He jumped on our seat and shouted out for the girl to stand up by her window.
She obliged and soon they were both shouting suggestions as to how they might get together before the day was over. She signalled to someone behind her and another girl came to stand next to her. She was a pretty girl with brown hair and a nice smile and Bernie told me to join him on the seat.
‘That one is for you,’ he said. ‘I’ve arranged with my one to bring her along when we meet up. You can come with me and we’ll all find somewhere to be alone.’
I smiled sheepishly at my intended partner and she gave me a brilliant smile in return. She undid the top three buttons of her blouse and nodded at me suggestively. I couldn’t see anything of her breasts but I knew that she was telling me that I would definitely be seeing them later. I nodded my head like a demented person and my mother’s instructions flew out the window and were gone for good.
‘Let’s go.’ Brother Michael was standing on the top step and looking down the coach. ‘Bring your running gear and towels as we’re not coming back here until after the races have finished.’ He looked at Tom Banks and Brother Ambrose and added quietly, but loud enough for us to hear: ‘If any of them misbehave, book them and they will be dealt with when we arrive back at school.’
We filed slowly off the coach and towards the main grandstand. Our seats were located halfway up the stand and gave a great view of the whole stadium. The finishing line on the track was directly in front of us and Brother Ambrose selected his seat so that he could see clearly who won every race. Tom Banks sat on the end of our row and Brother Michael sat with a large group of teachers from the other schools in the VIP section of the stand.
The whole of the stand below where we were sitting was full of boys and girls, seated in alternate rows. Tom Banks told us that they did this to stop two boys’ schools sitting together as this generally led to fighting.
Bernie grinned at the news. He said, ‘That suits us down to the ground.’ He pointed at a group of girls who were making their way up the stand to sit in the seats behind us. He sounded excited. ‘It’s them, John. It’s the girls from the coach next to us.’
I looked eagerly along the line of approaching girls and soon spotted the two girls we were hoping to meet up with. There were about twenty-five girls in the group. The four grey-clad women who were chaperoning them were chivvying them along to their seats. Bernie attracted the girls’ attention and pointed to the two seats directly behind us. They nodded and pushed their way along the line and claimed the two seats by slumping down on them.
One of the women shouted, ‘Barbara and Jean, you’re blocking our way. Move along further.’ The two girls ignored her and the remainder of their group had to squeeze past their legs to get to their seats.
My heart was racing fifteen to the dozen. The girl sitting behind me had awakened all my sexual feelings and all I could think about was how I could get her alone. Nothing else in my life had any meaning; there was only this girl.
‘Your one is called Barbara,’ Bernie whispered in my ear. He chuckled quietly. ‘Look around you. Everyone has the same idea as us.’
Boys and girls all over the stand were whispering to each other. Girls were giggling and boys were talking loudly, trying to impress them. The teachers were shouting instructions and getting nowhere. The sexual tension in the air was palpable and it was only relieved when the tannoy system crackled into life and a quivery male voice welcomed us all to Erith Stadium. Everyone was asked to rise and join in the National Anthem. ‘God Save the Queen’ was sung with exceptional gusto and on its conclusion a great cheer went up.
The tannoy system once again crackled into life and this time a much more assured and stern voice told us the plan for the day’s activities. There were going to be three classes of races. The 12–14, the 14–16, and the over 16. Bernie and I were both in the second category and had to wait an hour or so while the younger boys and girls competed for their school’s honour. We used our time well chatting non-stop to Barbara and Jean.
Barbara was fourteen years old and came from Battersea in South London. Her mother and father had been killed in November 1944 when an undetected, unexploded bomb had detonated and caused masonry from the house next door to fall on them. She had only been a baby at the time and had been put in an orphanage. She decided to run away when she was thirteen and tried to locate her uncle and aunt who lived in Southend. She couldn’t find them and ended up living on the streets and begging for food. She was picked up by the police in London and prosecuted for running away from the orphanage and not attending school. She was given three years in an approved school in late December 1957.
Bernie’s girl, Jean, came from Deptford in South-east London. She had run away from home when she was twelve because she was being used for sex by her mother’s boyfriend. She had adapted well to living on the streets and had made quite a good living as a child prostitute. When she was picked up by the police in Hyde Park she was being looked after by a fifty-three-year-old Maltese pimp. She went to court on her fourteenth birthday, which was on 6 February 1958. She too was given three years’ approved school.
Both girls spoke openly about sex. Jean was definitely more experienced but Barbara was more than willing to learn. They told us of the frustrations they had to endure being locked away in a girls-only environment. We laughed at their raunchy stories of escapades that went on in their school with various tradesmen. Two girls had actually become pregnant by a young bricklayer who had been working on a craft shop extension. He was married with two children a
nd denied the offence but it had definitely been him. He was sacked from his job but he still sneaked back to the school of a night and carried on his affairs. He was eventually caught by the headmistress when she found him hiding in a shower room. He was stark naked at the time of his capture and was led away by the police wrapped in a blanket. The girls didn’t know what happened to him as the case was still going on.
Jean told Bernie to try and meet her in the girls’ toilets. She left her seat and shouted along the line to one of the women that she was off to the toilet. The woman nodded and said, ‘Be back here in five minutes or I will come looking for you.’ Jean hurried out of the stand and towards the toilets situated just inside the main entrance. Bernie winked at me and said, ‘I’m off. Cover for me.’
‘Where do you think you’re going, Connors?’ Brother Ambrose shouted.
Bernie held the front of his trousers and hopped from one leg to the other. ‘To the toilet, Bro. I’m desperate. I think it might be nerves about running in front of all these people.’ Everyone in the vicinity who heard Bernie’s excuse laughed mockingly.
‘Well, be quick about it,’ Brother Ambrose said and stood up to look along the line at the rest of us. ‘Nobody else goes until Connors is back. I’m only allowing you to go one at a time.’
Bernie hurried away and disappeared from sight. Barbara said to me quietly, ‘I don’t fancy the toilets. Shall we try and sneak back to the coaches?’
My voice suddenly deserted me. I wanted to say that I’d go anywhere in the world with her. I nodded my head and managed to say huskily, ‘I can’t go anywhere until Bernie’s back.’
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘I heard what that bloke said. We’ll have to wait a few minutes after they get back so as it doesn’t look too obvious.’ She looked into my eyes enquiringly. ‘Have you done it before? I’ve only done it a few times and I’m not that experienced.’
‘I’m the same as you,’ I lied. ‘Just a few times.’