Saturday, 2 July 2022

Life Class 1967 Chapter Seven First being loved.

 



 Chapter Eight   First being loved.

   Everyone was going away for the summer, so, although we were

keeping the same flat, I wrote off to Brighton art college and asked them

to put up a card asking for a place to stay, and set off with one small bag

of clothes for six weeks at an address in the Ditchling Road where two

other strangers were also staying. I went to a nightclub, met a merchant

seaman in the hot dark pulsating disco and had a rash uncomfortable

one night stand as it was termed. He left me his betting slip which I

cashed in as he had won. For the first time I encountered the bleak

atmosphere of a betting shop, all men intent on watching the screens,

cigarette butts all over the floor, despair and hope like a fog of wasted

frozen dismal life. I’d be more careful now, not get into situations where

sex was expected and then it was over and it wasn’t much fun.

   I took a job as a cleaner. On arrival at the house on the first day I was

asked to iron and to peel potatoes. Both of these things I had never

done. I made a stab at it. The house was on three floors and the

vacuum cleaner was heavy. I was only seven stone and fragile looking

even in a workish dress. The son of the house was home and he

offered to carry the Vacuum cleaner up and down each floor for me. I

didn’t think to stop him. That was Saturday.
    
    The next cleaning day was Tuesday and I arrived early, eight o’clock

start. The woman opened the door and looked perturbed, hadn’t I got

her letter? She was very sorry, she couldn’t continue to employ me. I

was unsuitable, I didn’t even look as if I could scrub floors.
   
  I walked away. By the end of the road I was skipping and singing a little

song to myself about how I didn’t look like a scrubber. I wasn’t sorry. It

was a nice day and I made for the beach although I had nothing with

me, no money, no swimming things and it was far too early for the

beach, there was no one there.
   
 I took off my lime green suede sandals and paddled at the edge of the

sea despite the pebbles, humming to myself, scanning the glittering

horizon. Free of work, the horizon was one of infinite possibility,

immensity, like the Courbet painting in the National Gallery. Tomorrow 

would do for looking for another job.

    In the distance there was one person, with a dog, a youth in jeans

and a pinky-red jumper, The dog was a puppy, playfully jumping about.
 
 How did we get to speak to one another?
 
 I can’t remember. I must have walked within earshot, he must have

spoken, maybe he asked the time.
 
How did I get to sit down next to him? And then he moved the dog from

between us to his other side, shared his towel because the pebbles

were uncomfortable, fetched me tea and sausage rolls with his last

luncheon vouchers, leaving me to hold onto the dog by his short lead so

I couldn’t leave.
   
The day passed and we were talking for a long time. He had been born

in Rhodesia, he had blue eyes, a sort of deep sea blue, not the pale

kind. He had not been a student, he was two years younger than me,

his hair was blonde and quite long. He was unhurried, undemanding and

listening and serious and smiling in a lovely way. And then he was

balancing one pebble on my knee as I lay still and then another and one

more and all down each leg so I wouldn’t move in case they fell off. He

made no move to touch me, asked for nothing and waited like someone

encountering a small deer in a wood, motionless, both waiting and 

listening to see if trust would allow getting a little nearer.
 
It got later: we were hungry. I suggested going back to where I was

staying to get something to eat. I had eggs and bread. There were two

other people there, it was quite safe, I wouldn’t let him stay and he didn’t

suggest it.
   
   And all the time we were talking and it was getting more interesting

and exciting and light and sweet and something not to lose but to

consider and I liked his blue eyes, his smile.
 
 I couldn’t think, I needed to go and talk to myself, to see myself in the

bathroom mirror, to slow down, not to become someone who slept with

anyone, not like the last one, who had been a mistake. I went into the

loo and looked at myself in the mirror and saw that I had already

decided and came back with this clearly seen. He would be staying and

he knew I had decided in the toilet and he was very pleased.
    
       Kevin was so very cautious and gentle and then excited and so

happy and he opened the window and got out on the roof naked and

walked along balancing on the ridge of the roof, and made tea, and said

he loved me. I was not used to hearing this, what was love and how

could he know? He knew and had none of the studenty intellectual

reservations. He was in fact in need of love as well, but he knew what

ell, but he knew what love was in a way I had never known and he 

was unafraid, he had nothing to lose and he saw me as a lovely possibility, 

a future different from his past, a sweet lovely girl with no guile and no, 

no anything that could spoil her, like the blue fairy, like his old love but new

 and better and here and not lost or broken and he relaxed for a moment on a

mattress on the floor, with his dog in the corner and his girl by his side

and we slept and we woke up together as if we were married as far as

he thought, just for the summer I thought, its just for the summer,

even if the love-making made me cry and feel something in a new way

and both of us with our eyes open.
     
The puppy got out somehow and was lost.
 
 I stayed home in case he returned and Kevin went to search. He

searched all day until he could not walk any further and came home and

we waited and waited and left the door open, but how could a puppy find

again a place he had only been to once?

    At last we lay down, still hoping, sharing the sadness and the longing

until we dozed off.
   
Suddenly there was a scrabbling on the stairs. Unbelievably Butch

staggered in and fell over into an immediate sleep, his eyes darting

behind the pale fur, his little paws still moving, searching and searching. 

   It was a marvellouslly happy moment.

 Kevin had been staying with a man he met on the beach who was a

social worker who probably hoped to seduce him but wasn’t pushy. We

went to get his things, a small bag, I waited outside.
 
 I got a job at the cinema, watching ‘Where Eagles Dare’ every evening.

Some of the usherettes had seen it two hundred times as it was on for

the season. They knew all the continuity mistakes. I had to fetch and

carry down a very heavy tray of ice creams, down five flights of stairs,

and get the change right in the dark or it was deducted from my meagre

wages. On the day off we were given free tickets for the other cinema.
 
 Kevin came into the bar in the interval every night and met me out, until

he got a job as a double - glazing installer, coming home with cuts on his

fingers and powdered glass in his hair. He went off to do a job in

Nottingham one weekend and phoned the police when he couldn’t get

home and they came into the cinema to tell me he was o.k.
 
 A few days after we met Kevin was ill. It was like pissing razor blades.

He knew what it was because he’d had it before. He wasn’t angry, he

took us off to the clinic for pills, a week’s abstinence and we were cured

of gonorrhea, another present from the merchant seaman.
 
 Unexpectedly my parents called in, passing on their holiday. So they 

met Kevin and afterwards said they had thought there was more to it

than that he was another person staying in the house. It was something

about the way he looked as he leant out of the window waving goodbye

next to me.
   
One day we rowed about something and I walked off the beach, but

loitered on the first corner so much hoping Kevin would follow. A young

woman started to talk to me, suggesting that we pick up two men for

money, or maybe we could do without them and just have fun the two of

us? How did I know I didn’t want to if I’d never tried it? I was so

surprised I couldn’t think what to say. I had a boyfriend. Well, o.k. She

was up for a threesome. At this point Kevin appeared to the rescue and

the woman melted away to try another corner.
 
 We decided to go off to the pop festival on the Isle of Wight.

Kevin played cards after work and won a sleeping bag, so we had one

each although we tried squeezing into one, which was just possible but

it wasn’t possible to make love because it was such a tight fit.
 
 We left the dog with Kevin’s grandfather, who lived in Brighton. We had

to spend a night on the floor in the same room as the old man, who got

up twice in the night and peed loudly into a bucket while we held onto

one another shaking with laughter but repectfully silent.

The music was amazing, Hendrix. The crowds were vast and entirely

peaceful. We slept out on the grass. We smoked a little dope. Kevin

smoked roll ups and kept a piece of orange peel in the tin to make the

first drag taste of it, and he’d offer this to me whilst never trying to get

me to take up smoking, and I didn’t.
 
 I was thinking that now it would be over. I had had a wonderful summer

but I had to go back to Nottingham to University. Kevin however insisted

that he was now with me, we would hitch to Nottingham, he would never

leave me, he loved me. As we set out together,  I began to believe him,

to recognize that I wanted to believe him, that I maybe felt the same but

hardly dared to feel this.

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