Only One Woman

by Christina Jones

  They were Mike’s friends really. Not mine. Sam and Mike worked together and played football together. Sam and Patsy were engaged and had been since she was sixteen. Patsy had glossy red hair with flick-ups, like Lulu, and wore very grown-up clothes. She was a bit younger than me but looked and acted much older. I was never sure if I liked her or not. I thought probably not.

  If we went out in a foursome it was usually with Sam and Patsy, rather than my best friend, Vix, and her boyfriend Jeff. Mainly because Vix didn’t like Mike – and the feeling was mutual. It was all a bit wearying to be honest.

  Sam and Mike disappeared into the pub and Patsy, halfway through her glass of Babycham, looked at me. ‘Nice dress.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She leaned across the table. ‘What do you think about Cornwall, then?’

  ‘What?’ I squinted into the still-hot evening sun. ‘What about Cornwall?’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, don’t say Mike hasn’t told you! We’re going on holiday – to Cornwall. All four of us.’

  I was suddenly very cold despite the heat. ‘What? When? No, honestly, Mike hasn’t mentioned it to me – I mean…’

  Patsy laughed again, flicking back her hair. ‘What’s he like, eh? We’ve booked the last week in August – because it’s the boys’ factory holiday week – in Polperro. You’ll have to get the time off work and start saving.’

  I sighed. ‘Oh, gosh… I don’t know… I mean… I’ve got to have some more hospital appointments and I don’t know when they’re going to be, and…’

  Patsy frowned. ‘I’d shut up about the hospital appointments if I were you. I think Mike’s getting pretty fed up with hearing about them. He won’t want you spoiling his one week’s holiday by going on about how ill you are.’

  ‘I don’t keep going on about it!’ I snapped. ‘But if I have an appointment at the same time as the holiday – then I won’t be going to Cornwall.’

  Patsy smirked and twiddled the impaled cherry in her Babycham. ‘I wouldn’t tell Mike that if I were you. There’s plenty of other girls who’d jump at the chance… you know what I mean?’

  ‘Not really.’ I glared at her.

  ‘Oh, Stella!’ she trilled with laughter. ‘I’m only teasing. Don’t look so cross. We all had a fab time when we went away together before, didn’t we?’

  I didn’t reply. I didn’t actually trust myself to answer.

  Because the possibility of a hospital appointment clashing with the week away really wasn’t my main problem about going on holiday.

  In early May we’d all had a weekend away at a caravan site in Hampshire. The weather had been gorgeous and we were close to the sea and it was all very pretty. It was also the first time Mike and I had been away together and I’d known he’d expect me to sleep with him.

  It was something I’d been managing to avoid for the whole five months we’d been together. But once we’d arrived at the caravan site and I’d realised that there were two double bedrooms it had been something I couldn’t avoid any longer.

  I’d sort of fudged the issue with my mum and dad, saying there was a crowd of us going. And it wasn’t even about the morality of sex before marriage: this was the swinging sixties after all and nearly everyone I knew was on the pill and sleeping with their boyfriends.

  No, it was just me being more than a bit scared, and dopey and hopelessly romantic. And I’d wanted the first time to be special and with the boy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And I was pretty sure that wasn’t Mike…

  Anyway, it was awful. Truly awful. Mike seemed to enjoy it but I hated it. It was embarrassing and uncomfortable and all over so quickly. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why everyone raved about it. I simply couldn’t understand why anyone would want to have sex. Ever.

  And as far as I was concerned it had been a one off. Using my illness, and much to his annoyance, I’d managed to avoid Mike’s attempts to do it again ever since.

  The thing was, despite all this, I didn’t really want to finish with Mike. We did have fun together and we got on ok. It just wasn’t how I’d imagined my first gown-up relationship was going to be.

  As a pin money hobby, I’d been writing short stories for the teenage magazines since I was fourteen. They were all sweet and romantic, with mutual adoration, gentle hand-holding and moonlight-kisses, and every one of them had a happy-ever-after ending. That’s what I’d expected to happen in real life, I think.

  I read voraciously, too. From Dickens to Denise Robins and back again. I always lost myself in whatever I was reading: I was that heroine… and I yearned for the adventures and love affairs they had – all the excitement, and daring, and head-over-heels giddiness and cascades of rainbows and twinkling stars and bluebirds.

  Oh, in my heart of hearts I knew it was totally stupid. Stuff like that would never happen to someone like me. But it didn’t stop me dreaming…

  ‘Are we – er – staying in a caravan again?’

  ‘No!’ Patsy’s eyes sparkled. ‘We’re renting a cottage. I got it out of The Exchange and Mart. Just the four of us. Playing house. It’s going to be fab!’

  I groaned. It was going to be anything but.

  ‘I’ve booked it as Mr and Mrs Stewart and Mr and Mrs Metcalf,’ Patsy continued, chuckling to herself. ‘Because we have to collect the keys from the cottage’s owner when we get there and it’s married couples only. So, I’ve got you this… it’s a present…’

  She scrabbled in her handbag and pushed a small paper bag across the trestle table. I peered inside.

  A wedding ring. Oh, God!

  ‘Woolies’ finest!’ Patsy grinned. ‘I’ve got one as well. Hopefully our fingers won’t go green before the end of the week.’

  ‘Who’s turning green?’ Mike came out of the pub then carrying a tray with two pints of beer, another Babycham, a pineapple juice for me, and four packets of crisps. ‘Not morning sickness. A bit late, is it, Patsy?’

  She shrieked with laughter and punched him playfully as the boys sat down. The drinks slopped into the tray.

  Sam pulled a face. ‘I bloody hope not. I’m not ready to be a daddy yet. I keep telling her to get on that pill.’

  They giggled together.

  ‘You’re a one!’ Patsy chuckled. ‘Anyway, no – we were just talking about going to Cornwall – weren’t we Stella?’

  ‘Yes, we were…’

  Sam sniggered. ‘You’ll have to get fixed-up as well, Stella, cos we’re gonna have a whole week of sun, sea and sex.’

  Patsy laughed. I didn’t.

  Mike looked at me quickly. ‘Ah, yes – I was going to tell you about that – about going on holiday – it was just with you being at the hospital again and everything… anyway, what do you think? Cool, isn’t it?’

  I sipped my pineapple juice. Slowly. ‘I wish you’d asked me first, actually. But, yes, if I’m ok, and can get the week off and it doesn’t clash with any of my hospital stuff, then I suppose it’ll be fun…’

  And then I uncrossed my fingers.

  Renza’s Diary

  June 29th 1968 – Merryhill Base

  The gig was amazing. It was packed – lots of kids and soldiers of course – full of screaming girls, so noisy. Scott’s band was the star attraction, having come from overseas (well, Jersey), and, as Rich told me during the evening, they had proper management and an agent, plus as well as writing their own songs, they had songwriters working for them too. Serious stuff.

  Narnia’s Children, I soon discovered, were professionals, unlike the support act, The Fulcrum, a local amateur band looking for a record deal but so far hadn’t got any interest. They had a big local following, but Scott’s band had a national following and some fans came to all their gigs, wherever they played. It was great, learning all this. Rich said that Narnia’s Children even had several record companies interested in them and there was talk of overseas tours, and they were recording soon with a famous company. They had lots going for them. Going to one of Scott’s g
igs for the first time was so thrilling – and I basked in the glory.

  Mind you, it had got a bit scary when I went to the loo. Being an army base there were lots of women soldiers and I have to say some of them were real hard cases by the look of them. Anyway, I found my way through the heaving crowd to the ladies and waited in line for a cubicle to become free. Several mini-skirted girls were ahead of me, chatting and giggling and discussing which one of the band they fancied and which one they were going to get off with given half a chance.

  There were a couple of female soldiers behind me, chatting and passing remarks about the girls in front. I didn’t think anything of it. I’d been thinking about how sexy Scott was, the way he held his guitar so low and moved on stage.

  The girls in front of me went into the cubicle and one of them shouted to me to hold the door because the lock was missing. I grabbed the door as best I could and tried to keep it shut. But all the time she chatted to her mates about how she fancied Scott and went into great detail about how she thought he was eyeing her up all night and how she was going to go backstage and make a play for him. Over my dead body, I thought, and was tempted to let go of the door and expose her.

  ‘Are you going to be all day?’ I wasn’t going to hold it much longer and all the other cubicles were full so this one was going to be mine, if she ever came out. It sounded like Niagara Falls on the other side of the door.

  ‘Go play with the traffic,’ came the reply. Girls tittered behind me.

  ‘Come on, you’ve been in there ages. What’re you doing?’ said the soldier behind me. ‘Need any help?’ Everyone laughed again.

  The door flew open and a Phyllis Diller look-alike shoved past me, giving me the evil eye.

  ‘No chance,’ I muttered, thinking of her plans for Scott. Before I could move she turned and pushed me into the cubicle. ‘It’s all yours.’

  I turned to the soldier behind and asked her if she would hold the door for me, at which she smiled sweetly and nodded. Her friend giggled. I was getting myself organised when the door flew open and the two soldiers stood grinning at me.

  ‘Please shut the door,’ I said, my hipsters almost at my knees. I held my hand out to push the door closed again, but the blonde soldier who had agreed to hold the door pushed the door open again.

  ‘Don’t be unfriendly,’ she said, moving closer to me.

  ‘What?’ I moved as far away from her as I could in the tight space and nearly toppled into the loo. ‘Please go away.’ My hipsters fell around my ankles.

  ‘You want to be nice to us, don’t you?’ Her tubby freckled faced friend was trying to get into the cubicle as well.

  ‘What are you on about?’ I started pulling my hipsters up. ‘I want to leave, let me leave.’

  I felt threatened. I couldn’t understand what I had done to upset them. I didn’t think I’d been unfriendly, why did they want me to be nice to them? I struggled to zip my hipsters up and tuck my skinny rib in.

  Something about their faces and their stance made me frightened and I could feel my heart pounding and my face getting red. I tried to get past again, but they blocked my way and the blonde one made a grab for me. She got hold of my shoulders and pushed me against the wall, as her friend tried to get in far enough to shut the door, but thankfully the space was too small for the three of us.

  ‘What do you want?’ I yelled at them, struggling against the hands holding my shoulders. ‘What have I done to upset you?’

  My captor laughed and bent her head towards me. The penny suddenly dropped: bloody hell! She was going to kiss me. Oh my God! My mind went blank with shock. I turned my head away and my hair covered my face.

  She grabbed my head and forced it round and her friend leaned over and pushed my hair out of the way. She grabbed my left boob and squeezed. I struggled and kicked and yelled at the top of my voice, ‘Help! Help!’

  The tubby girl looked over her shoulder and checked no one had come into the loo. Then she held my face in her hands whilst her friend tried again. I twisted and turned and wriggled about, I was in a panic. I couldn’t for the life of me think why they were doing this to me. At first I thought they were going to beat me up, I’d heard about girls who did that to other girls, but kissing me!

  That was really weird.

  ‘Scott! Scott!’ I yelled at the top of my voice, though how he could help me in the ladies loo, I had no idea.

  ‘Shut up you stupid bitch.’ The blonde girl twisted her face up and grabbed my hair, pulling it really hard. I yelled louder, the pain was terrible.

  ‘Hey, what the hell is going on in there?’ a female voice asked from the other side of the cubicle wall, and both girls stopped and stood quiet.

  The blonde one put her hand over my mouth. I thrashed about with my legs, kicking her and biting her hand. She yelped and jumped back, her hand falling from my mouth.

  ‘Help! Please help me,’ I shouted and kicked out again so that the two girls had to back out of the cubicle to avoid a good shin kicking.

  ‘What is going on in there?’ the woman outside shouted again. ‘I’ll get someone to sort you out if you don’t stop it and come out.’

  ‘I’m being attacked, please get help,’ I yelled as my assailants backed out of the cubicle and left me, panting hard and holding on to the wall for support.

  I heard the door bang as they left and a middle-aged woman appeared in the door.

  ‘Are you OK, love?’ she asked kindly, holding her hand out to me. ‘They’ve gone now. You can come out.’

  I took her hand, emerging slowly, looking around to check they’d really gone.

  ‘What on earth was going on?’ the woman asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I trembled, hardly able to get the words out. ‘They forced their way in and grabbed me and tried to kiss me… I don’t know why they’d do that. I was terrified.’

  ‘Well, they’re gone now so don’t worry any more.’ The woman smiled at me kindly. ‘They won’t try it again, they’ll get into serious trouble if they’re reported.’

  I was still bursting to spend a penny (well more like half a crown by now) and the woman held the door whilst I relieved myself. What Mum would call the ‘Relief of Mafeking’ whenever she was that desperate to go.

  ‘Hang on whilst I go to the loo and I’ll come out with you and check they really have gone.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I held the door for her, my heart at last beginning to slow. ‘You with anyone, love?’ the woman asked, pulling the chain. The door opened and she came out moving towards the sinks.

  ‘My boyfriend’s in the band,’ I said and stopped her trying to wash her hands before she tried the taps. ‘Nothing works.’

  ‘Ah, thanks.’ She opened the door to the hall and the noise of the crowd and the support band nearly deafened us. She looked around and then beckoned me out. ‘All clear love. You go and find some friends and stay with them.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I shouted as she walked away waving over her shoulder.

  I looked around cautiously and made my way through the crowd looking for the stage door where Scott said I should wait when they came off stage. Smoke hung thickly in the air mixed with every kind of perfume making a heavy cloying atmosphere. I pushed past couples snogging and dancing, and others just standing watching the band. Their music was all right – but not as good as Narnia’s Children.

  I found the door and leaned against the wall, feeling sick and giddy. I was still frightened and kept checking the faces around me for the two soldiers.

  My brain was sluggishly trying to process what had happened and I still couldn’t believe it. Two girls were trying to kiss and grope me. How weird was that?

  The stage door opened and several girls came out laughing and chatting, holding autograph books. I moved aside so they could pass and glanced inside before the door shut, searching for Scott. I wondered if I should go inside but I didn’t like to.

  Leaning back against the wall again I shut my eyes.

 
‘Hi…’

  I opened my eyes and there was Scott. He bent and kissed me on the forehead. ‘Waiting long?’

  ‘No, not long.’ I was so relieved to see him I nearly burst into tears.

  ‘You OK?’ He peered into my eyes.

  ‘I had a bit of a nasty time in the ladies,’ I said as he frowned and put his arms round me.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said and held me tight.

  I tried to explain what had happened and he looked furious. He glanced around. ‘See them here at all?’

  ‘No, the lady who helped me said they wouldn’t dare come back because they would get into trouble, being soldiers and all that.’

  ‘Right, well, they will be if I see them, I can tell you.’ He kissed me again and smiled. ‘Quite an experience. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you and left you on your own, but there wasn’t anyone you could be with tonight. Usually we have friends with us.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m all right now,’ I said unconvincingly.

  ‘We’re leaving soon. Gonna party with The Fulcrum for a while. They live in Salisbury somewhere.’ He brushed his lovely thick black hair from his face and smiled. ‘Don’t panic, we’ll get you home on time, we don’t plan staying long, but it’s good to hang out with the competition.’

  ‘Oh, OK, as long as I’m not late. Mum will kill me if I am.’

  ‘We’ll have you home before the milkman, as instructed! Let’s go and party…’

  As we left the hall, loads of girls ran towards us, screaming and yelling, trying to grab the boys. The band stood and signed autographs and smiled and chatted to the girls, and got covered in kisses for their trouble. I spotted the girl from the ladies who’d said she was going to pull Scott. She gave me a look of sheer hatred when she saw him put his arm round me and help me into the van. I smiled sweetly at her as she poked her tongue out at me.

  ‘Where exactly are we going?’ I asked Scott as the van travelled down rough country roads to the strains of Radio Luxembourg playing ‘Dedicated to the One I love,’ by The Mamas and Papas, one of my favourites.