Old Friends, New Friends

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘What’s going on?’ she enquired, noting the slight tension and Debbie’s cross face. ‘Am I missing something?’

  ‘Nothing much,’ said Alistair. He patted Debbie’s hand. ‘Sorry, Debbie, I shouldn’t have laughed at you, but I thought you’d get my meaning.’ He turned to Fran. ‘I was trying to explain to Debbie … about Ben. She hadn’t realized.’

  ‘Oh yes, I see,’ said Fran, who obviously knew what he was on about. Curiouser and curiouser, thought Debbie.

  It was Fran who explained to her. ‘Ben’s gay,’ she said in a whisper. She didn’t glance at him, and he was quite unaware that they were talking about him. ‘Hadn’t you guessed?’

  ‘Gay?’ said Debbie. ‘Do you mean … queer?’ That was the word she had usually heard, although she didn’t know much about it at all.

  ‘Yes, if you like,’ said Fran. ‘Gay’s a nicer word, though. Good as you, I believe it means. And they are, aren’t they? Just as good as the rest of us. Different, that’s all.’

  ‘Yes … I suppose so,’ replied Debbie, quite mystified. She had heard about them, of course – sixth form gossip – but as far as she knew she had never met anyone who was that way inclined. Until now. And Ben was such a nice likeable chap.

  ‘How did you know?’ she said quietly to Alistair. ‘I’d no idea, honestly.’

  ‘We just realized, Neil and I,’ he replied. ‘We haven’t talked about it, and he hasn’t come on to us, or anything like that. But I think he knows that we know. Anyway, as I said, we get along together all right. He’s the one who has the single room, which is perhaps as well! And Neil and I share.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything about Ben being … like that,’ Debbie whispered to Fran, quite indignantly.

  ‘Why should I?’ Fran shrugged. She had lit a cigarette, and she nonchalantly blew a puff of smoke into the air. ‘I thought it was obvious, anyway; and it’s not something to gossip about, like a crowd of silly schoolgirls.’

  Debbie felt annoyed again. Was that remark levelled at her? If so then it was best ignored. Yes; she supposed she had been a naive schoolgirl when she first came to Leeds. But she was learning. She was having her eyes opened to a lot of things she hadn’t known about before. She smiled to herself. She was quite sure that Lisa was totally ignorant about such matters, even more so than she was. And maybe Karen, too, despite seeming so streetwise, had not realized either. She had certainly jumped to the wrong conclusion about Charlie.

  They didn’t stay until closing time. It was Fran who called a halt at ten thirty. ‘It’s time we weren’t here, girls,’ she called. ‘Early start in the morning.’

  ‘So you’d best sup up,’ added Karen, draining the last of her pint of lager. She was the one who had had ‘one over the eight’, as Debbie’s father might say. No, maybe not as many as eight, but she had been mixing her drinks, and Debbie knew that that was not good.

  Karen staggered to her feet, laughing hysterically. Debbie and Ben, one each side of her, walked her back home. ‘Naughty girl, aren’t I?’ she giggled. ‘Shan’t do that again!’

  ‘No, I should hope not,’ said Debbie, reprovingly. It was the first time that any of them had got into that state, and she didn’t like it.

  Lisa and Neil walked home hand in hand, and Fran and Alistair walked together, her arm linked through his. They didn’t linger, though, when they arrived back at the house as did Lisa and Neil. The others dispersed and left the two love birds to say goodnight.

  Karen stood on tiptoe and kissed Ben on the cheek. ‘G’night, Ben,’ she said. ‘Thanks for looking after me.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure,’ he replied politely, but he didn’t sound as though he meant it. ‘Hope you’ll be OK in the morning.’

  Debbie helped her to climb the stairs and guided her into her bedroom. She collapsed on the bed. ‘I’m a bloody fool, aren’t I?’ she giggled. ‘First Charlie, and now Ben. It was no go with him – he’s gay!’

  Fran helped her to undress and get into bed, then she made coffee for herself and the other two. ‘It’ll be a miracle if she’s ready for college in the morning,’ she commented. ‘Still, she probably needed to get Charlie out of her system … poor girl!’ she added with an unusual show of empathy. ‘She’s not as blasé as I am about men, but she’ll get over him in time. I think with Ben it was a question of any port in a storm. But she’s got her answer there, hasn’t she?’

  Lisa didn’t understand at all about Ben, and still seemed mystified when both Fran and Debbie tried to explain to her. ‘Never mind, love,’ said Debbie, as Lisa shook her head in bewilderment. ‘We’re finding out about all sorts of things, you and me, aren’t we? What about Neil? Did you tell him about your dad?’ One thing was obvious; Lisa had no intention of ending her friendship with him.

  ‘Yes, I told him,’ she said, with a smile. ‘And he said I mustn’t worry. He said my dad will come round in time, and I think he might be right. Do you know … I think I’m in love with him …’ She sounded like a little girl with a wonderful secret.

  Debbie knew that it was partly the drink that was loosening her tongue; Lisa had drunk more than her usual limit that night. But it was obvious that she really did love Neil.

  Fran was right about Karen. She didn’t stir when the alarm clock went off in the morning, and didn’t respond when Fran shook her, except to say, ‘Go away and leave me alone.’

  She did come round eventually whilst the other three were having breakfast, but it was clear she was in a sorry state as she staggered into the living room. She was pale and her eyes were bloodshot.

  ‘My head’s thumping,’ she said. ‘It’s like a herd of elephants doing a clog dance. Don’t tell me! I know I’m a complete idiot,’ she said. ‘But never again! Never ever again, do you hear me? I’ll stick to lemonade in future.’

  Debbie was quite sure she wouldn’t, but at least the good intention was there. They plied her with black coffee and aspirins, but she was in no fit state to travel with them on the bus.

  ‘You go,’ she said. ‘You know what we agreed; we don’t wait around for sluggards like me. I’ll go in later if I feel up to it. I’ve only one lecture this morning. I might make it this afternoon for the greenhouse one; I don’t want to miss that … Oh, to hell with that Charlie! And Ben flippin’ Robson an’ all!’ She buried her head in her hands, rocking to and fro. ‘They’re not worth it, any of ’em.’

  ‘Do you think we should leave her?’ Lisa asked anxiously. ‘She seems in a bad way to me.’

  Karen heard her remark and she looked up and gave a weak smile. ‘Take no notice of me, luv. It’s my own bloomin’ fault. I’ll be OK. I won’t do anything stupid, if that’s what you’re worried about. Off you go now. See you later …’

  Lisa sat next to Debbie on the journey to college, with Fran behind them. Lisa was quiet, so much so that Debbie asked what was worrying her. Was she still concerned about her father and the situation with Neil? She had seemed much easier about it the previous night.

  ‘Well, of course it’s partly that,’ replied Lisa, ‘but to be honest –’ she was speaking in a whisper now – ‘I was really worried about Karen getting into that awful state last night. I’ve never been used to it, you see. I’d never been in a pub at all till I came here, as I told you. And I’ve always had a fear, sort of, of people who are drunk. It upset me to see Karen like that. I know my parents would be horrified if they thought I was getting into what they call bad company. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? Really prim and prudish. Because I like Karen. I think she’s a smashing girl and … well … it worried me, that’s all.’

  ‘I should think she’s learnt her lesson,’ said Debbie. ‘And I do understand how you feel, you know. I guess we’ve been brought up rather differently from the others, you and me. I don’t think my parents are as strict as yours about drinking, but they’re the sort who bring out a bottle of sherry only on very special occasions; like Christmas, or when I got my O-level results; I remember us having a drink to celebr
ate, then. And my dad’s never been one to go off to the pub like a lot of fellows do. He spends most of his time with my mum.’

  ‘I don’t think either of my parents have ever set foot inside a pub,’ said Lisa. ‘My dad told me that he ‘signed the pledge’, as they call it, when he was about thirteen years old, vowing that he’d never touch alcohol, and so did my mother. And they never have done.’

  ‘Good for them if they can keep to it, I suppose,’ said Debbie, ‘but where’s the harm if you just have an odd drink, to be social, like?’

  ‘Oh, that’s the thin end of the wedge, according to them. And an odd drink can lead to another. They believe they have to set a good example and not lead others astray. I’ve had dozens of lectures about the evils of drink, I can tell you!’

  ‘So where do they think you go for a night out? Surely they must realize, now you’re at college, that you might go to … pubs!’ Debbie whispered the last word. ‘You haven’t signed this … pledge, have you?’

  ‘Oh no; I don’t know whether they still do it or not. Probably not. Some Methodists are much more broad-minded now, but not my father. Strange, isn’t it? I plucked up courage to tell them about Neil, but I haven’t told them that I’ve been inside a pub! They probably think we go to coffee bars.’

  ‘Well, you’re not likely to overstep the mark, are you, Lisa? I know you have very high standards, and I admire you for it. Don’t worry about Karen. As you say, she’s a great girl, and I should imagine she’s feeling quite ashamed of herself now. I remember the time when I had far too much to drink—’

  ‘Did you?’ Lisa looked at her in amazement.

  ‘Not only that; I did something else that was very stupid. I was at a party that one of the girls in our form had. We’d just finished our O levels and we were celebrating. And an older lad, from the sixth form, offered me a joint …’

  Lisa gasped. ‘Do you mean … cannabis?’

  ‘Well, I suppose it was. Anyway, I had a few puffs, and I was well away. I was friendly with Kevin at the time, and he was really annoyed. What with that and the drink I was sick all over the place. He had to take me home, and my parents were furious.’

  ‘Gosh! I think my dad would have killed me!’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t. They love us, you know, and they just feel ashamed. I pretended it was just the drink, and they believed me. And I learnt my lesson, believe me! I never touched anything like that again, and I never will. I was just a silly kid, but you learn by your mistakes. I sound like my mother now; she says things like that, but it’s true, isn’t it? Anyway, we’re here now,’ she said as the bus pulled up near to the college gates. ‘Time to start work again.’

  Ten

  Debbie, Fran and Lisa walked up the path between the lawns and flower beds, bare now apart from late blooming rose bushes, towards the college buildings. The main building, which held the administrative offices and most of the lecture rooms, was an old Victorian mansion that had fallen into disrepair following the Second World War. It had been renovated and brought up to date to fit the requirements of a college.

  As well as the offices and lecture rooms there was a comfortable common room where the students could relax during their breaks, and a refectory; a new building at the back of the college, adjoining the large kitchen, where meals and snacks were served.

  Beyond the college were acres of land for vegetable and flower gardens, shrubberies and greenhouses, where the practical work took place. There was also the area where those students studying landscaping, including Debbie and Fran, were working out their own ideas of garden planning.

  The three friends separated once inside the building, making their way to the lecture rooms. Debbie and Fran were bound for the same place to listen to the next lecture in the series dealing with the development of the English garden.

  Debbie enjoyed all the lectures, no matter what they were about, from the propagation of plants to pest control, trees and shrubs, maintenance of lawns or the art of topiary. She was ready to absorb it all, as a sponge absorbs water. Her chief interest, though, was in the study of landscape gardening.

  Today they were learning how English garden design had been influenced by gardens in other countries. They were shown colourful slides of gardens of the ancient Near East; the hanging gardens of Babylon, paradise gardens in Persia, gardens in Rome and Egypt. Debbie wondered if she would ever be able to see such faraway places. She had not even been abroad. Her parents had never had any desire to venture so far, being more than content with the British Isles, and she had been obliged to follow their lead. She had, in fact, not been any further south than Blackpool! Apart, that is, from a three-day visit to London on a school trip, when she was fourteen. Her parents had taken a good deal of persuading that she would be perfectly safe; and as her friend, Shirley, was going, they had finally agreed. As it happened they had been watched over continually by hawk-eyed teachers, both in the hostel and outside. Debbie had been somewhat homesick on her first time away on her own, although she had enjoyed seeing all the sights of London.

  She had no fears now about being away from home. She was determined to take any opportunity that came her way to see more of the world; well, if not the world then certainly more of the British Isles. The trip that was being planned for next spring to visit some of the well-known gardens would be a good start.

  She noticed that Fran and Alistair were sitting together during the lecture, and they went off at the morning break chatting in a friendly way. She found Lisa in the common room. She was, of course, accompanied by Neil, and she joined them for coffee. They served themselves from a machine which offered a choice of black or white coffee, tea, hot chocolate or orange juice. The coffee was just about palatable, better than the tea at any rate, which always tasted stewed and smelled like the wood from sharpened pencils! Debbie had not noticed this until Lisa had pointed it out to her. Now it always took her back to her days in the Infant classroom.

  When it was lunch time, Karen joined her in the refectory queue, rather to Debbie’s surprise.

  ‘Here I am, my jolly old self again … or nearly,’ she quipped. ‘Those aspirins and black coffee did the trick. I tell you what though, Debs; I’m off men, no kidding! I shan’t touch any of ’em with a barge pole from now on.’

  Debbie grinned. ‘Good for you,’ she replied, though wondering how long it would last.

  ‘I made a real bloody fool of meself with Ben, didn’t I?’ Karen raised her eyebrows in horror. ‘I had no idea. I couldn’t believe I’d been so naive.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation I hadn’t twigged it either,’ said Debbie. ‘Fran and Alistair had a good laugh at my expense. I felt a real idiot! But I’d never come across any – what do they call ’em? – any “gays” before. At least not as far as I know. How did you find out about Ben?’

  ‘Oh, I suddenly realized there was summat not quite right. He was, sort of, backing away from me, and it came to me in a flash. I didn’t say anything, of course. I’d had too much to drink anyroad, and everything was getting rather fuzzy and unreal. I’ve learnt my lesson about the booze, an’ all. I bet little Lisa was horrified, wasn’t she?’

  ‘She was a bit taken aback,’ Debbie admitted. ‘But she’s getting more accustomed to the ways of the big wide world now. Like I am. I’m learning a thing or two as well … right now; what are we going to have today?’ She looked at the array of dishes keeping warm by the hotplates. There was a good choice, and they had found that the food was always well cooked. She decided on a piece of cheese and onion quiche, with salad and a few chips on the side, with a strawberry yogurt to follow. Karen was still a little unsettled after her excesses of the night before, so she had just a bowl of chicken soup and a roll.

  She had recovered, though, by the end of the day, when they all sat down to enjoy beans on toast, followed by ice cream, one of their favourite meals, quick and easy to prepare.

  ‘Alistair has asked me to go out with him on Saturday,’ said Fran, in quite a casual
manner; it was not her way to enthuse and show too much excitement. It was obvious, though, that she was pleased; she was unable to disguise the slight smile that played round her lips.

  ‘Nice work if you can get it!’ remarked Karen. ‘That didn’t take long, did it? Off with the old and on with the new, eh? I shall be a bit more wary meself. Like I said to Debs, I’m off men; you can’t trust any of ’em.’

  ‘We’re only going out for a meal,’ Fran replied. ‘It’s no big deal, is it? I’m not making anything of it. I’ve known Alistair for quite a while … Yes, I know it’s only a couple of months, but it’s the same length of time as I’ve known you girls, and I’ve seen him nearly every day. We’ve always got on quite well together. He noticed my engagement ring, though, didn’t he? It shows that he’s high-principled, or else he might have asked me out before now.’

  Debbie was pondering on Fran’s words. It was, indeed, only a couple of months since the four flatmates had met one another; but it felt as though they had known one another for years. And she wouldn’t have described Alistair Kenyon as high-principled. She suspected that he might have a roving eye, but she made no comment.

  ‘Neil and I are going out on Saturday as well,’ said Lisa, ‘to the pictures, and then we’ll probably go for a bag of chips. My mum thinks it’s common to eat in the street, and I never did till I came here. It’s Neil who’s taught me to enjoy chips with lashings of salt and vinegar. Yummy!’ Her blue eyes lit up with delight.

  ‘Watch out! He’s leading you astray!’ laughed Karen. ‘So that leaves just thee and me, Debbie. What shall we do? Stay in and do our knitting? Or do you fancy a night on the town? Happen a disco and a few bevvies?’

  ‘Steady on,’ said Debbie. ‘You’re supposed to be off the booze as well as men, aren’t you?’

  ‘Whoops! I forgot,’ said Karen. ‘We couldn’t afford it anyroad, could we? Never mind; we can always go to bed with a cup of hot chocolate.’