A Little Learning

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You could put aside a night or two for me, couldn’t you?’

  Janet was silent. ‘Oh, say yes, for God’s sake,’ Ben urged and added, ‘We could go to the pictures if you like, I could probably get hold of Dad’s car.’

  ‘Could you?’ It burst from Janet before she could stop it.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Ben said. ‘It’s not me you want, it’s the car.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Janet, and they laughed together.

  Breda, coming back into the hall, watched the young couple and felt her stomach lurch as she remembered the men she had laughed with and loved when she was no older than Janet, men who’d marched away to war and never come back. She wished she had the power to protect her niece from heartbreak like she’d suffered, but people, she knew, had to learn from their own mistakes. Ruth too was watching them, and she felt a stab of envy that surprised her. Later, stepping outside for a breath of air, she was quite shocked to see Ben and Janet in a tight embrace, her brother kissing her friend as if he’d known her all his life. And I bet she doesn’t tell me about that, for all her promises, Ruth thought, and returned to the dance in a bad humour.

  ELEVEN

  Janet never forgot the summer of 1953, the summer she fell in love with Ben Hayman. By the time early September’s leaves were beginning to clutter the ground, she knew she loved him more than life itself. She thought ruefully of the girls at school she’d looked down her nose at when they’d enthused over boyfriends. They’d let their studies slip and their career goals had been dropped.

  ‘All they want is to be a wife and mother,’ Janet had fumed to Ruth on more than one occasion. ‘Girls like that make it worse for the rest of us. It is pointless educating girls who marry and have babies as soon as they leave school.’

  How easy it had been to say that when no one had touched her heart in that way. Now, if Ben Hayman had suggested flying to Outer Mongolia to live in a mud hut, Janet thought she’d probably consider it. Halfway through the summer, she could barely remember what she was like in the pre-Ben days. She hadn’t known on their first date that this was how it would be; she only knew she wanted to meet Ben, and she was so scared of her father forbidding it that she didn’t tell him and let him think she was meeting Ruth.

  Bert and Betty had expressed surprise that they were going to the pictures this close to the exams, and just after they’d had a break from studying to join in the coronation celebrations too. However, they’d often wished Janet would go out more, so said nothing further about it.

  She’d asked Ben not to pick her up outside her house, but at the bottom of the road. He did ask why, but she told him to mind his own business and knew by his chuckle and suggestive wink that he had guessed she hadn’t told her parents about him.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Janet said. ‘Which cinema?’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Not the Apollo,’ Janet said. Tyburn Road was too close to home for comfort. Anyone could be there and see her. Even the Palace in Erdington was a little too near in her opinion.

  Ben had been watching her face and guessed at some of her thoughts. He suggested, ‘Shall we make for the city centre and give you a decent ride in the car?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Janet cried, relieved. She didn’t ask what they were going to see. It didn’t matter. Here she was on her first date with a boy, and she was both excited and a little scared.

  As they swung into Tyburn Road on their way into town, Janet spotted Duncan and Gloria. It looked as if they were having a humdinger of an argument. She saw Gloria stamp her foot and swing her hand to strike a stinging blow to Duncan’s cheek. He parried it and gripped her arms tight, and then they were passed and lost to view.

  Ben had noticed her preoccupation with the couple. ‘Someone you know?’ he asked.

  Janet nodded. ‘Yes,’ she answered briefly. She didn’t yet know Ben well enough to tell him personal things about her family.

  They had a wonderful evening. Janet had been worried how Ben might behave. She’d heard some horror stories from the girls at school about what lads got up to in the back row when the lights went down. But to start with, Ben didn’t lead Janet into the back row, which she saw was almost filled with couples anyway, but to seats halfway down. And when the film began, he seemed intent on it, and eventually Janet began to relax. He’d held her hand as they sat down and continued to hold it, but apart from that he did nothing and tried nothing on at all.

  Afterwards, he drove to the corner of Janet’s road, parked the car and walked her to the gate, where he drew her into his arms and kissed her. Janet gave a sigh of contentment. ‘Happy?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Will you go out with me again?’

  Janet’s eyes opened wide, happy to know he wanted another date, which meant she couldn’t have bored or irritated him totally. And yet she couldn’t see her way to going out again. Already she was feeling fingers of guilt stabbing at her for not staying in her room, chained to her books, that evening.

  ‘Oh, Ben, I don’t think I can manage another night,’ she said.

  ‘I go back Thursday,’ Ben said, ‘then you won’t see me till the middle of July. I thought if I could borrow Dad’s car again we could take a trip out. We could drive across to Kingsbury, there’s a place I want to show you.’

  It was tempting, and suddenly Janet really wanted to go. I’ll make up the time, she promised herself, I’ll work like stink when he goes back.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Yes thanks, I’d like that.’

  She knew her parents wouldn’t believe that she would go to the pictures twice in one week, so she told them she was going to Ruth’s to work. She felt bad about deceiving them, especially as they didn’t doubt her for a second.

  ‘You shouldn’t lie to them, Janet,’ Breda said when Janet confided in her. ‘If you consider yourself mature enough to go out with a boy, you’re old enough to explain it to your parents.’

  Janet knew she was right, but she wasn’t going to take the risk and jeopardise this date with Ben. ‘If he wants to see me again when he’s home for the summer, I’ll tell them then,’ she promised, and added, ‘You won’t split on me, will you?’

  Breda looked at her niece. She loved Janet dearly – in fact, she was her favourite of them all, and she’d hate to be the one who brought her parents’ censure down on her head – but what if Bert and Betty found out and knew that Breda had been aware of it all the time?

  ‘Do you give me your word you’ll tell them?’ she asked, and Janet nodded.

  ‘I promise,’ she said, ‘really and truly.’

  ‘Then I’ll say nothing.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Auntie Breda.’

  Breda looked at her a minute longer, wondering what she knew about boys and sex in general. She knew her sister’s prudishness in discussing sexual matters, despite having had five children.

  Eventually she said, ‘Has our Betty told you about things … you know, sex and all that?’

  Janet blinked in embarrassment. ‘Um, I think I know about it,’ she said. ‘You mean how babies are born and things like that?’

  ‘That’s part of it, yes.’

  ‘I know all that,’ Janet said. ‘It’s all some of the girls talk about.’

  ‘Has your mother said anything at all?’ Breda asked.

  ‘Only when I started my periods,’ Janet said. ‘I didn’t know what it was and I thought I was dying, and Mom told me what it was and said I must never speak of it in front of men. Then she said I would soon become a woman and I had to respect myself or men wouldn’t respect me, and that could lead to trouble.’

  ‘How old were you?’ Breda asked.

  ‘Thirteen.’

  ‘And that was the extent of the sex talk, was it?’ Breda said irritably.

  ‘Well … yes.’

  ‘And a lot of bleeding good it did, I bet.’

  ‘Well, I know what she means, sort of, and I know abou
t sex,’ Janet said defensively.

  ‘You know how babies are made,’ Breda corrected. ‘There’s much more to it than that.’

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘Janet, there will be times – maybe it will be with Ben Hayman, or maybe someone else – when a boy will kiss you and send you wild,’ said Breda. ‘He may touch parts of your body that, if you were thinking straight, you wouldn’t let him touch, and all that talk about respect will go out of the window. You’ll want him to go on and on, and if you’re not careful, things will get out of hand, and before you know it you’re pregnant and the boy’s still fancy-free.’

  Janet was embarrassed, her face flushed pink. ‘I wouldn’t,’ she said.

  ‘You could, easily,’ Breda said. ‘Tell me honestly that you’re not disturbed by Ben’s kisses.’ But Janet couldn’t, and she stayed silent.

  ‘All I’m saying, pet, is it’s the woman who has to put the brakes on,’ Breda went on. ‘It’s unfair, but there you are. A woman has more to lose, so she has to be the one to call time. If your Ben, or any other boy, does something you don’t like, or you’re unhappy about it, say so and say no. And don’t, she warned, ‘be taken in by the old line “If you loved me you would.” That is as old as Adam and Eve and is so much bullshit, if you’ll pardon the expression.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Breda,’ said Janet, wriggling with embarrassment.

  ‘Okay, lecture over,’ Breda said, ‘and to change the subject slightly, your brother seems to have gone off that girl he was so keen on.’

  ‘Gloria?’

  ‘If that’s her name,’ Breda said. ‘I know she’s a Marsden and as common as the rest of them.’

  ‘I saw him with her just the other day,’ Janet said, and added, ‘though they seemed to be having a row.’

  ‘She’s been running around with other boys, apparently,’ Breda said. ‘Peter’s nephew has been working behind the counter at the bikers’ caff for the last few weeks, and it seems young Gloria’s been with nearly all of them. She’s a joke among the lads. They were amazed when Duncan actually went out with her, because of how she is. Apparently she still trailed after anything in trousers, and your brother eventually came to his senses, realised what was going on and chucked her over.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Janet said fervently. ‘Mom and Dad need never know.’

  ‘No,’ Breda said, ‘and I needn’t tell them about you either if you keep your word.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘And remember what I told you.’

  ‘Oh, Auntie Breda,’ Janet said again.

  ‘Don’t “oh, Auntie Breda” me, just remember.’

  And Janet did remember. She remembered the following night when they went on the drive and Ben seemed to know exactly where he was going. He parked the car and took Janet’s hand, and they walked together down the country lane. ‘Where are we?’ she asked in a hushed voice, because it was that kind of place.

  ‘Bodymoor Heath,’ Ben answered in the same tone. ‘We used to come here a lot when we were younger. Mother had a friend in Kingsbury we used to visit, and Dad would bring us down here when we got fed up with being polite and good. We’ll come to the first lake in a minute.’

  The evening was warm and still quite bright, the sun low and red in the sky, and when the path opened out and the lake was shimmering golden before them, Janet cried, ‘Oh, Ben, it’s beautiful.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Ben said. ‘Hard to believe the lakes are artificial.’ At Janet’s disbelieving face he went on, ‘Oh yes, Dad told us all about it. There used to be gravel pits here and they made the lakes from the stuff they removed from the ground.’ He sat on a grassy hummock, pulled Janet beside him and put an arm around her.

  ‘It’s so quiet,’ she said, ‘and still.’ The only sound was the gentle lap of the water and the breeze riffling through the grass.

  ‘It nearly always is,’ Ben said. ‘Few seem to know it’s here. Often we didn’t see a soul.’ He smiled and pointed to the water. ‘I learnt to swim in there when my dear brother pushed me in. Later, when I was a little older, I used to cycle out here to fish.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were a fisherman,’ Janet said, but then what did she know of him really?

  ‘I’m not,’ Ben said. ‘I didn’t do it for long, to be truthful – too sedentary for me. I haven’t been here for some time, but it’s a special place to me, so I wanted you to see it.’

  Janet glowed inside at the way Ben had said that.

  ‘Tell me about yourself, Janet Travers,’ he demanded suddenly, holding her closer. ‘Tell me about your hopes and dreams.’

  ‘Oh, I’m very ordinary,’ Janet said dismissively.

  ‘Not to me,’ Ben insisted, ‘and I’d like to hear.’

  So Janet talked. She told him of her scholarship and Miss Wentworth, of how she’d slaved away, of her father’s initial reluctance and his subsequent pride. She told him of the dreams she had of being like Claire Wentworth one day, how she wanted to make something of herself.

  Ben told her of the plans he had for his life and how he’d always wanted to be a doctor. He was fascinated by mental health and the strides being made in it since the war. ‘We lag way behind America, though,’ he said. ‘That’s the place that offers hope to parents and children alike.’

  ‘Like Claire’s Chloe.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Ben said. ‘You and Ruth used to help her with exercises and things, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. That was based on recent studies in America,’ Janet said.

  ‘I’d like to meet Claire and Chloe,’ Ben said after a minute or two of pensive silence.

  ‘You might one day,’ Janet said, and added quite sharply, protective of them both, ‘If you do, you’ll meet them as friends of mine, not as some sort of case study.’

  ‘Hey,’ Ben cried, ‘I’m not the enemy here.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Janet said, and added with a rueful grin, ‘It’s just I’d hate them to be seen as some sort of peep show.’

  ‘God, Janet, what do you take me for?’ Ben burst out almost angrily. ‘I’m interested in them because that’s the field I think I’d like to specialise in, but I’d also like to meet them because they’re your friends.’

  Janet didn’t speak. She didn’t say that when Ben came back in July his feelings for her might have changed, but that was what she was thinking, and she shivered.

  The evening had darkened as they sat and talked, and yet neither had been aware of it. Now Janet saw that the sun had nearly set and crimson shafts from it were turning the wind-driven ripples amber and sending pink-tinged clouds scudding across the sky.

  ‘You’re cold,’ Ben said, pulling her to her feet. ‘We’ve sat here long enough. Time for a drink, I think, and then I’ll take you home. I bet you’ve never been in a pub in your life.’

  Janet hadn’t, but she guessed that no pubs near her home would be like the one Ben chose. The Dog and Doublet was by a canal, and though it was too dark to see the water, Janet was interested in the barges she saw moored by the sides. The pub opened on to the towpath, and inside the ceilings were white and low with black beams. Janet was charmed. It was like something from a bygone age.

  ‘What will you have?’ Ben asked.

  Janet didn’t know anything about alcoholic drinks except the sips she’d had of her father’s beer or her grandad’s stout. She’d liked neither. She knew her gran liked port and lemon and her mom sherry, but she’d never tasted them herself.

  ‘Just an orange,’ she said to Ben.

  ‘You’re a big girl now,’ Ben said, ‘you’ve turned seventeen. Be a devil and have a gin in it.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know …’

  ‘Go on, one small gin won’t hurt you,’ Ben said.

  ‘Just one then,’ Janet warned, looking at her watch, ‘then we really must go. Mom and Dad will be worried.’

  When Ben returned with the drinks he said, ‘Where do they think you are?’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

 
‘Well, they don’t know about me, do they?’

  Janet stared at him for a moment or two and then gave a sigh. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I was worried they wouldn’t understand, and you only had a few days here.’

  ‘I don’t want a clandestine romance with you all summer,’ Ben said firmly. ‘I want to take you out openly, pick you up at the front door properly, not skulk round the corner somewhere. I want to meet the Travers family I’ve heard so much about from my sister. I want to …’

  Suddenly Ben leaned across the table and grasped one of Janet’s hands. ‘I’ve talked to you more than I’ve ever talked to anyone before. At college, I’m always Ben Hayman, the clown, always good for a laugh. No one but you has ever really listened to me before, or taken me seriously.’

  Janet could hardly believe what Ben was saying. She wondered if the gin she was enjoying was stronger than she thought. Surely this couldn’t be happening to her? She was certain of it when Ben looked deep into her eyes and said, ‘I really like you, Janet.’

  Later, in bed, she went over and over that meeting. They’d kissed good night in the car at the corner, and Janet couldn’t understand the strange yearnings in her that the kissing evoked. She wished she’d had more experience with boys and wondered if all kisses did that to you. It wasn’t something you could ask anyone. She noticed that Ben seemed to be as excited as she was, but she could hardly ask him why. It sent a shock of exhilaration through her when he kissed her neck and throat, and she gave a little moan of pleasure.

  ‘Oh, Janet, you’re lovely.’ She definitely hadn’t imagined him saying that, though she knew his voice was strangely husky and his face was buried in her hair.

  Almost immediately he’d pulled away abruptly and said in a totally different voice, ‘We’d better get going, Janet, time’s getting on.’

  Confused and unhappy, she got out of the car. She couldn’t understand how he could suddenly change his attitude like that, as if he was tired of her. But then he was walking beside her, his arm around her shoulder, and it felt so natural, so easy, it seemed as though they’d always been like this.