Trust
Without Prejudice
When I was 14 all i wanted to do was be with my friends. Parents only existed for cadging money out of, giving me a lift home and not much else. They had just had a baby, my youngest sister, and I had told no one at School, embarrassed by my parents age. Mum was 42 and Dad 45. Ancient. One girl found out and congratulated me and after that I mentioned her all the time, as she was so adorable. Mum had not told us until she had only 6 weeks to go. I must admit, we were starting to wonder about the coveralls she bought home, hiding her belly.(It all seemed so sad, the hiding, the pretence, she thought she was having an early "Change Of Life.)
Aunty Pat, who was 39 and was also having a "Surprise", baby, and was as just as coy, about it,(so they were pregnant together,) but my Mother wasn't herself again. She was strange, withdrawn, not happy, angry almost, and we had had no repeat of her behaviour in Adelaide, sleeping all the time, and she hadn't run away in 2 years. And they think that from Helen's birth a Post Natal Depression began, which activated the post traumatic stress from the war.
But Maybe she knew about Dad's affair and subsequent baby, a boy, John, is my thought now. I hope not, I hate to think of her like that, but I figure if that was true, we would have heard something. I was pretty disgusted with Dad when he told me when he was older, and it wasn't something I wanted to hear, but he could not deny the life of his child, not the love he felt for him.
I have seen too much of the hurt that affairs cause, and I would never go out with an unfaithful man, nor forgive him. I know I did with Nifty, but I wouldn't again because if I'm not enough, then he can go elsewhere. Silly selfish men can harm with their own selfish ways.
And from that I hated cheaters, men who cheat, hated them. I know it's a "Thing" that men do, but I just could not see why? And as far as I was concerned she didn't cheat, so why did he? Probably not getting any at home, or just big ego, and Mum could be pretty Strong, far stronger than DaD, who was just a silly weak man as far as I was concerned
I was off to roller skating one Saturday Afternoon with Denise Edsen at Leeds, calling into her house so we could catch the train together. Her parents were out so she decided to "pinch" some alcohol and we drank it in one go, whisky, neat, tasting like liquid fire going down our virgin throats. We weren't drunk that was for sure and the stuff was foul. Denises's parents were the dearest people, a regular old fashioned couple and they could make head nor tale of their rebellious daughters behaviour. Denise when I first met at 12, was turning into a cool teen, instead of the nerdy little girl she was when I first met her
We palled up together then because Caroline, the real "Shirley Valentine: had been injured in a bad accident on the "Ranty", or see saw swing in the park Thornes Park. She had been swinging on it when Denise and I had gone home. She was a tough girl, Caroline, and took no notice of some older boys who began swinging the ranty, harder and faster and she clung on, but then catapulted off. The hold handles of steel smashing into her body and she had broken ribs, a removed spleen and severe internal injuries, she was in Hospital for 6 months. So Denise became best Friends. We spent ages with Caroline in the Hospital and then we went out.
The Roller Skating rink in Leeds was our latest destination, one Saturday Afternoon, we were graduating away from The Mecca. The roller skating rink was full of music and speed skaters and Jackie and Winn had to come at first, as my chaperone's. I was not to go out with boys till I was 16, like Jackie. And I thought why should I have to wait? She was eons older than me and as old fashioned as tea, to my mind. She always wore old fashioned clothes, Mumsy and I was fashion crazy, I bought hippy dresses and boots, lace up, and the first outfit Mum let me buy on my own was for the Annual end of year Party. But Jackie was the one driving how old I could be to go out with a boy.
Most of the girls at school were boy crazy and had boyfriends and a couple of them were already having sex, which they told us all about and it sounded horrible. Denise and I had no idea, none. It shocked me because in Australia you wouldn't even think about dating a boy at 14 and here they all were going out, kissing, getting love bites and there was lots of talk of "Rubber Johnnies." and "French Letters" and we had no idea what they were talking about. So we went to the library, Denise and I and furtively looked at books. And there was very little information, something about stamens, an engorged something and we turned the books up side down hoping to shake out information
We couldn't work out what was what and the anatomy theory was nothing, nothing. Then Denise found a book that described what a happens to a make sex organ when it was ..... and then it did what????? We could not work it out, turning the pictures up side down .We gave up in frustration and went back to class.Both peed off as we had set up an elaborate plan to be in the library at the same time, and look for sex education books. we had excuses set up in case the Masters caught us, it was all so disappointing.
And everyone clammed up about it in those days. Even our friend who was 15 and having sex with her boyfriend, she went all coy and said it all happened in bed and we would "know", well we didn't. And I thought how strange asking someone to join you in bed, how intimate!
Love wasn't mentioned, just this "thing" called sex and what I had seen of it was pretty disgusting, Janet Horton showing me her rabbits, "doing it" and she had shown me the bunnies active pink appendage and I thought I would die and go to hell. So crude it was and she enjoyed it, watching it and I had just looked away.
I bought with my birthday money, 10 pounds, a black fine cord fitted dress, with lace collar and cuffs, a hip belt with gold buckle at the front. This was my outfit for the School Dance. I bought it at Chelsea Girl At the top of Kirkgate and as I gazed at myself in the mirror I realised how much I had grown up. The dress was edgy and cool and was a big hit on the night. I wore it with my PVC boots, that laced up the front and zipped on the sides, and had a heel. And at last we had tights By Pretty Polly and they were wicked, first the "Stay Ups". Stockings that came above your thigh and stayed there with lace elastic for hold up, trouble was when you sat down they pulled down, which meant hoiking them up all night or not sitting down.
Then came the tights and all was well at last, we just had to pull them on and they stayed up. They weren't cheap and a Jewish boy at school kept bringing me tights to School, from his Dad's stall at Wakefield Market. He was a funny little boy, Steven, he looked like a gypsy or a "wide boy", as my Mum and Dad would say, wide boy being shifty. I liked the fact he liked me but he wasn't my type at all and I could never seem to rebuff him enough. He just didn't seem to "get" it. At that stage I had a crush on a six Former, anyway, older, more sophisticated, but he went out with only 18 year olds
So we went to Leeds on the train and were on our own at last. We hurried inside, bringing our own skates, the hire skates were just strap ons and no good for real skating. So we held hands and skated around and fell over, laughing, the music good and our age and a boy approached us, an Irish Boy and asked if we wanted to join him and his friend at a table for something, soft drink, anything. So we did. And we chatted up and I was having such a great time with the Irish boy, Johnny, that I begged Denise to stay longer. She wouldn't so I rang my parents and told them I was staying at Denise's for tea and I would be home on the last train. Johnny and I took Denise to the station, waved her off and we walked to his house. he wanted me to have tea with his Ma for some reason.
It was great, the family was a big sprawling family of about 8, with a delightful smiling Mum, plump, apron, long skirt drooping on one side, pegging out washing on the line, white sheets billowing up in the air. She was glad to meet me she said, and then after that I couldn't understand one other word she said, the Irish speak fast and quietly, the Dubliners, anyway. With soft T's as in tanks, instead of thanks. and two tirty, instead of two thirty. The tea was a riot of talking and slapped hands for the too greedy and tea and salmon, cucumber, tomato and a Hovis loaf and malt bread, so heavy, your teeth left marks in the butter and big pots of tea all around. Johnny's Da was a big boned man, looked like Liam Neeson and had a booming voice and laughed at his kids a lot.
After we played records in the lounge room all the kids leaving us alone and then we walked back to the station and we were hurrying and he was stopping to kiss me in every doorway, a light rain falling and he pulled me to him, inside his great coat to stay warm, his breath like peppermints, his lips so soft, and I was in snogging heaven and I had never ever kissed a boy.
So it was a bit dizzying, and our progress was slow towards Leeds Station. And when we got to the station, finally, the last train had gone and we were horrified.We both panicked, should we run back to Johnny's house, which was a fair way and get his Da to run me home? And in the end it was so late I just rang my Dad and told him where I was.
He came as we sat on the steps, of the station, I saw his feet first, highly polished shoes, natty coat and scarf on. I looked up and he was stern but fair and thanked Johnny for waiting with me, very politely. And when I got in the Car, there was complete silence from Mum, holding Helen on her lap. Disapproval palpable in the air, and Dad spoke as we drove off'
You should not feel you should have to lie to us, Janette"
My Mother stayed dangerously quiet. Dad continued,
"We'd rather you be honest with us and no matter how bad, tell us the truth"
"Your Mother and I have re thought you going out wuth boys and we are going to let you from now on, we have to meet him, is all we ask"
I was stunned, my Sister had not been able to persuade them otherwise, as she had to wait until she was 16, sibling rivalry.
And then Mum spoke,
"You are not spending enough time with Helen", she said, furious all of a sudden.
And I replied, as a teenager would,
"Oh, yeah, I reallly HATE her, ", meaning the opposite
I didn't I thought she was a pet, but Mum was spoiling for a fight, and I knew it was coming no matter what I did.
"Oh, you hate her, do you??"
And I just sat back and let her go off, so did Dad, and she ranted all the way home and I vanished out of the car and ran to my room. Dad calmed her down but she was sobbing and crying and I could not understand what for. So I apologised to her, for something I hadn't said and she seemed distraught beyond all measure, but she cheered up eventually.
And I was allowed to go out with Johnny and it was all innocent and kid stuff. Denise and Trevor, Johnny's friend, and Johnny and I went to Scarborough for the day and saw all the mods on their scooters and greasers with motor bikes. There were so many, and stories had started coming through about gang fights.
Mod girls wore little granny glasses, bubble perms and Preppy clothes and Greasers wore leather bike suits and had long lank hair, we changed our minds as to what we were, a mod one day and a greaser another. we bought matching clothes, Macintosh's with belts that strung across the back, black tees, Navy Pants, skinny ribbed jumpers, boat necks, the fashion was Hippy or Sandie Shaw, Dusty Springfield, everything, all the time, so were trips to Boots for Pancake makeup and frosted pink lipsticks and cheap annoying perfumes and herbal wash for our hair,
I eventually dropped the boy, and because my Dad trusted me, and I knew I was allowed to go out with boys, I didn't go out with any, having fun just being a teenager and stayed a virgin till I met my husband. It was a simple equation, I hadn't been fascinated with all that "stuff" and as far as I was concerned, girls that, "did it", too young, were looking for love, not sex.
And I had lots of love in my life, so I wasn't even curious. Ever. I did enjoy male company but not in a one on one situation and the first Man, I went out with, Derek, had to ask my permission to take me anywhere, he got the whole grilling, and I was sure my Mother would have asked details of his bank account, if she wasn't so polite.
When I was 14 all i wanted to do was be with my friends. Parents only existed for cadging money out of, giving me a lift home and not much else. They had just had a baby, my youngest sister, and I had told no one at School, embarrassed by my parents age. Mum was 42 and Dad 45. Ancient. One girl found out and congratulated me and after that I mentioned her all the time, as she was so adorable. Mum had not told us until she had only 6 weeks to go. I must admit, we were starting to wonder about the coveralls she bought home, hiding her belly.(It all seemed so sad, the hiding, the pretence, she thought she was having an early "Change Of Life.)
Aunty Pat, who was 39 and was also having a "Surprise", baby, and was as just as coy, about it,(so they were pregnant together,) but my Mother wasn't herself again. She was strange, withdrawn, not happy, angry almost, and we had had no repeat of her behaviour in Adelaide, sleeping all the time, and she hadn't run away in 2 years. And they think that from Helen's birth a Post Natal Depression began, which activated the post traumatic stress from the war.
But Maybe she knew about Dad's affair and subsequent baby, a boy, John, is my thought now. I hope not, I hate to think of her like that, but I figure if that was true, we would have heard something. I was pretty disgusted with Dad when he told me when he was older, and it wasn't something I wanted to hear, but he could not deny the life of his child, not the love he felt for him.
I have seen too much of the hurt that affairs cause, and I would never go out with an unfaithful man, nor forgive him. I know I did with Nifty, but I wouldn't again because if I'm not enough, then he can go elsewhere. Silly selfish men can harm with their own selfish ways.
And from that I hated cheaters, men who cheat, hated them. I know it's a "Thing" that men do, but I just could not see why? And as far as I was concerned she didn't cheat, so why did he? Probably not getting any at home, or just big ego, and Mum could be pretty Strong, far stronger than DaD, who was just a silly weak man as far as I was concerned
I was off to roller skating one Saturday Afternoon with Denise Edsen at Leeds, calling into her house so we could catch the train together. Her parents were out so she decided to "pinch" some alcohol and we drank it in one go, whisky, neat, tasting like liquid fire going down our virgin throats. We weren't drunk that was for sure and the stuff was foul. Denises's parents were the dearest people, a regular old fashioned couple and they could make head nor tale of their rebellious daughters behaviour. Denise when I first met at 12, was turning into a cool teen, instead of the nerdy little girl she was when I first met her
We palled up together then because Caroline, the real "Shirley Valentine: had been injured in a bad accident on the "Ranty", or see saw swing in the park Thornes Park. She had been swinging on it when Denise and I had gone home. She was a tough girl, Caroline, and took no notice of some older boys who began swinging the ranty, harder and faster and she clung on, but then catapulted off. The hold handles of steel smashing into her body and she had broken ribs, a removed spleen and severe internal injuries, she was in Hospital for 6 months. So Denise became best Friends. We spent ages with Caroline in the Hospital and then we went out.
The Roller Skating rink in Leeds was our latest destination, one Saturday Afternoon, we were graduating away from The Mecca. The roller skating rink was full of music and speed skaters and Jackie and Winn had to come at first, as my chaperone's. I was not to go out with boys till I was 16, like Jackie. And I thought why should I have to wait? She was eons older than me and as old fashioned as tea, to my mind. She always wore old fashioned clothes, Mumsy and I was fashion crazy, I bought hippy dresses and boots, lace up, and the first outfit Mum let me buy on my own was for the Annual end of year Party. But Jackie was the one driving how old I could be to go out with a boy.
Most of the girls at school were boy crazy and had boyfriends and a couple of them were already having sex, which they told us all about and it sounded horrible. Denise and I had no idea, none. It shocked me because in Australia you wouldn't even think about dating a boy at 14 and here they all were going out, kissing, getting love bites and there was lots of talk of "Rubber Johnnies." and "French Letters" and we had no idea what they were talking about. So we went to the library, Denise and I and furtively looked at books. And there was very little information, something about stamens, an engorged something and we turned the books up side down hoping to shake out information
We couldn't work out what was what and the anatomy theory was nothing, nothing. Then Denise found a book that described what a happens to a make sex organ when it was ..... and then it did what????? We could not work it out, turning the pictures up side down .We gave up in frustration and went back to class.Both peed off as we had set up an elaborate plan to be in the library at the same time, and look for sex education books. we had excuses set up in case the Masters caught us, it was all so disappointing.
And everyone clammed up about it in those days. Even our friend who was 15 and having sex with her boyfriend, she went all coy and said it all happened in bed and we would "know", well we didn't. And I thought how strange asking someone to join you in bed, how intimate!
Love wasn't mentioned, just this "thing" called sex and what I had seen of it was pretty disgusting, Janet Horton showing me her rabbits, "doing it" and she had shown me the bunnies active pink appendage and I thought I would die and go to hell. So crude it was and she enjoyed it, watching it and I had just looked away.
I bought with my birthday money, 10 pounds, a black fine cord fitted dress, with lace collar and cuffs, a hip belt with gold buckle at the front. This was my outfit for the School Dance. I bought it at Chelsea Girl At the top of Kirkgate and as I gazed at myself in the mirror I realised how much I had grown up. The dress was edgy and cool and was a big hit on the night. I wore it with my PVC boots, that laced up the front and zipped on the sides, and had a heel. And at last we had tights By Pretty Polly and they were wicked, first the "Stay Ups". Stockings that came above your thigh and stayed there with lace elastic for hold up, trouble was when you sat down they pulled down, which meant hoiking them up all night or not sitting down.
Then came the tights and all was well at last, we just had to pull them on and they stayed up. They weren't cheap and a Jewish boy at school kept bringing me tights to School, from his Dad's stall at Wakefield Market. He was a funny little boy, Steven, he looked like a gypsy or a "wide boy", as my Mum and Dad would say, wide boy being shifty. I liked the fact he liked me but he wasn't my type at all and I could never seem to rebuff him enough. He just didn't seem to "get" it. At that stage I had a crush on a six Former, anyway, older, more sophisticated, but he went out with only 18 year olds
So we went to Leeds on the train and were on our own at last. We hurried inside, bringing our own skates, the hire skates were just strap ons and no good for real skating. So we held hands and skated around and fell over, laughing, the music good and our age and a boy approached us, an Irish Boy and asked if we wanted to join him and his friend at a table for something, soft drink, anything. So we did. And we chatted up and I was having such a great time with the Irish boy, Johnny, that I begged Denise to stay longer. She wouldn't so I rang my parents and told them I was staying at Denise's for tea and I would be home on the last train. Johnny and I took Denise to the station, waved her off and we walked to his house. he wanted me to have tea with his Ma for some reason.
It was great, the family was a big sprawling family of about 8, with a delightful smiling Mum, plump, apron, long skirt drooping on one side, pegging out washing on the line, white sheets billowing up in the air. She was glad to meet me she said, and then after that I couldn't understand one other word she said, the Irish speak fast and quietly, the Dubliners, anyway. With soft T's as in tanks, instead of thanks. and two tirty, instead of two thirty. The tea was a riot of talking and slapped hands for the too greedy and tea and salmon, cucumber, tomato and a Hovis loaf and malt bread, so heavy, your teeth left marks in the butter and big pots of tea all around. Johnny's Da was a big boned man, looked like Liam Neeson and had a booming voice and laughed at his kids a lot.
After we played records in the lounge room all the kids leaving us alone and then we walked back to the station and we were hurrying and he was stopping to kiss me in every doorway, a light rain falling and he pulled me to him, inside his great coat to stay warm, his breath like peppermints, his lips so soft, and I was in snogging heaven and I had never ever kissed a boy.
So it was a bit dizzying, and our progress was slow towards Leeds Station. And when we got to the station, finally, the last train had gone and we were horrified.We both panicked, should we run back to Johnny's house, which was a fair way and get his Da to run me home? And in the end it was so late I just rang my Dad and told him where I was.
He came as we sat on the steps, of the station, I saw his feet first, highly polished shoes, natty coat and scarf on. I looked up and he was stern but fair and thanked Johnny for waiting with me, very politely. And when I got in the Car, there was complete silence from Mum, holding Helen on her lap. Disapproval palpable in the air, and Dad spoke as we drove off'
You should not feel you should have to lie to us, Janette"
My Mother stayed dangerously quiet. Dad continued,
"We'd rather you be honest with us and no matter how bad, tell us the truth"
"Your Mother and I have re thought you going out wuth boys and we are going to let you from now on, we have to meet him, is all we ask"
I was stunned, my Sister had not been able to persuade them otherwise, as she had to wait until she was 16, sibling rivalry.
And then Mum spoke,
"You are not spending enough time with Helen", she said, furious all of a sudden.
And I replied, as a teenager would,
"Oh, yeah, I reallly HATE her, ", meaning the opposite
I didn't I thought she was a pet, but Mum was spoiling for a fight, and I knew it was coming no matter what I did.
"Oh, you hate her, do you??"
And I just sat back and let her go off, so did Dad, and she ranted all the way home and I vanished out of the car and ran to my room. Dad calmed her down but she was sobbing and crying and I could not understand what for. So I apologised to her, for something I hadn't said and she seemed distraught beyond all measure, but she cheered up eventually.
And I was allowed to go out with Johnny and it was all innocent and kid stuff. Denise and Trevor, Johnny's friend, and Johnny and I went to Scarborough for the day and saw all the mods on their scooters and greasers with motor bikes. There were so many, and stories had started coming through about gang fights.
Mod girls wore little granny glasses, bubble perms and Preppy clothes and Greasers wore leather bike suits and had long lank hair, we changed our minds as to what we were, a mod one day and a greaser another. we bought matching clothes, Macintosh's with belts that strung across the back, black tees, Navy Pants, skinny ribbed jumpers, boat necks, the fashion was Hippy or Sandie Shaw, Dusty Springfield, everything, all the time, so were trips to Boots for Pancake makeup and frosted pink lipsticks and cheap annoying perfumes and herbal wash for our hair,
I eventually dropped the boy, and because my Dad trusted me, and I knew I was allowed to go out with boys, I didn't go out with any, having fun just being a teenager and stayed a virgin till I met my husband. It was a simple equation, I hadn't been fascinated with all that "stuff" and as far as I was concerned, girls that, "did it", too young, were looking for love, not sex.
And I had lots of love in my life, so I wasn't even curious. Ever. I did enjoy male company but not in a one on one situation and the first Man, I went out with, Derek, had to ask my permission to take me anywhere, he got the whole grilling, and I was sure my Mother would have asked details of his bank account, if she wasn't so polite.
