The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  Chapter 12

  Sally had mixed feelings about Jason’s obvious feelings towards her. On the one hand it was flattering to have someone in love with her; on the other hand she didn’t really want to be tied down. Sharon went out with a different boy every week. ‘Playing the field’ she called it. ‘If you don’t have a damn good time when you’re young, you never will,’ she told Sally. Sharon was streetwise. She’d been allowed to take charge of her own life since she was ten years old and her fund of worldly knowledge and her self-awareness impressed Sally profoundly.

  Not that Sharon disapproved of Jason. On the contrary, she thought he was dishy and ‘quite a hunk’. ‘But you don’t want to let him think he’s the only pebble on the beach,’ she warned. ‘You don’t want him taking you for granted. Go out with a few more guys before you make up your mind.’

  Sally promised that she would — and she could have done. There were always plenty of boys asking her out. It was just that she knew her parents would be horrified at the mere sight of some of them, and the idea of their agreeing to let her go out with them was laughable. The thought of Ken trundling round after her in the Purple Pumpkin now that she was nearly eighteen was enough to make her turn them all down flat and stick to Jason. At least that way she got a little freedom.

  Mavis and Ken had resigned themselves to their daughter’s ‘going steady' with Jason. Better the devil you know was how they looked at the situation. Jason was clearly extremely fond of Sally. He had fairly good prospects and seemed to be a hard worker. Of course they were both far too young to think of marriage, but in the meantime Jason would take good care of Sally and see that she didn’t get into the wrong kind of company.

  Jean’s view of the situation was far less complex. She was frankly delighted that the two young people had got together. She never stopped talking about their romance, irritating Mavis to distraction with her plans for the wedding and the little house they would live in afterwards. She even had her own wedding outfit all planned.

  ‘Good heavens, there’s plenty of time for all that,’ Mavis told her with a disapproving sniff. ‘Our Sally's not much more than a child yet, even though she does like to play the grown-up woman.’

  Jean smiled to herself. Sally was no child, not in any sense of the word. With her film-star looks and her curvaceous figure she was enough to turn any male head. You’d have thought Mavis would have been pleased to get her safely married off to a decent lad with a good career in front of him. But no. She would have kept the girl cooped up in the house if she could. Pity she hadn’t lived in the days when they still had chastity belts. She longed to say all this to her sister-in-law but knowing of old the explosive reaction she would get, she confined herself to the bland remark: ‘I suppose having two of my lads already married I’m used to looking ahead.’ But she couldn’t resist adding mischievously: ‘Before we know it, Mavis, you and I will be grandmothers.’

  Mavis turned away with a shudder. The idea of her dainty Sally swollen and bloated with pregnancy shocked and appalled her.

  *

  Sally was reasonably content. She was almost at the end of her course and soon after the exams were over she would be eighteen. She could see the torch of independence beginning to glimmer at the end of her tunnel. She and Jason went out together twice a week and she enjoyed the companionship of Sharon, who was always ready to fill in the gaps in her sketchy experience of life and sex.

  Since the night of the college first year party Sally had compromised on her style of dress. Jason had assured her that girls who dressed as she had that night were certain to attract the wrong kind of boy. It was no wonder that the lanky youth who had wrestled with her in the car park had got the wrong idea about what sort of girl she was. He went shopping with her and helped her to choose clothes that he promised were more ‘her’. Dresses in dainty Laura Ashley prints, a slim black skirt in a longer length, and some pretty tops trimmed with lace and broderie Anglaise. Mavis viewed them with pleasure and satisfaction. Grudgingly, she had to admit that Jason was a good influence on her daughter. Sharon, on the other hand, looked askance at the new clothes.

  ‘Getting to be a regular little Julie Andrews, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Have you singing in the church choir next.’

  *

  It was at the end of the spring term that Sharon had her party. It was her birthday and her parents had agreed to go out, taking the younger children with them, and leave the house to Sharon and her friends till midnight. She told Sally excitedly about her plans in the cloakroom at college. Sally was wide-eyed with surprise. The very idea of Mavis and Ken going out and leaving the house to twenty marauding teenagers till the small hours was totally unthinkable.

  ‘Why are you looking like that? Hey — you do want to come, don’t you?’ Sharon peered at her. ‘You can bring Jase if you really want to, though I can tell you there’ll be no shortage of crumpet there, I’ll see to that.’

  ‘Of course I want to come,’ Sally assured her. ‘It’s just that Jason is going away on a course that week. I’m not sure if …’

  Sharon groaned and raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Don’t tell me. Mummy and Daddy won’t want you going out on your own.’

  ‘Of course they won’t mind,’ Sally protested unconvincingly. ‘It’s just that — well, Jason and I are sort of engaged.’

  ‘First I’ve heard of it.’ Sharon said scathingly.

  ‘Well, not engaged exactly. But …’

  ‘Tell him if he doesn’t like it, he can get stuffed,’ Sharon advised. ‘What’s up? You’re your own woman, aren’t you?’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  ‘It’s like I said — you’ve got to show them you can do without them. It makes them appreciate you more. Tell you what. If it’s the late night you’re bothered about, why don’t you tell your mum you’re going somewhere else and stay the night at our place?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you ask your mother first?’ Sally asked apprehensively.

  Sharon laughed. ‘She won’t mind. There’ll probably be bodies crashed out all over the place by the time she and Dad get home anyway. They’ll just step over them.’

  The image that this conjured up was quite beyond Sally’s comprehension, but she promised she’d try to think of some way she could come to the party.

  It was the following week when she was doing the Saturday shopping for her mother that she met Aunt Jean in the supermarket. As always Jean greeted her warmly.

  ‘Hello, love. If you’ve finished your shopping how about joining me for a coffee?’

  They sat in the supermarket snack bar and over coffee and doughnuts Sally confided to Jean her quandary over Sharon’s party.

  ‘I said I wasn’t sure I could go because of Jason being away, but really it’s Mum and Dad. They don’t approve of Sharon at all.’

  Jean shook her head. ‘Well, I think you should go, love. Jason wouldn’t mind. He’s always saying you should get out more and he knows he can trust you.’ She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘Look — maybe I shouldn’t encourage you to be deceitful, but you could always say you were spending a night over at our place if you like — so as to be there when Jason gets home on Saturday morning.’

  Sally’s face brightened. ‘Could I really?’ She frowned. ‘I hate lying to them, Auntie Jean, but honestly what else am I to do?’

  Jean patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry about it, love. Just you go to the party and enjoy yourself.’

  *

  When Sally arrived at Sharon’s house the other girl took one look at her clothes and laughed. ‘You cannot be serious, man. You can’t wear that!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s a rave-up, not the bleedin’ vicarage tea party.’ She grabbed Sally’s arm and dragged her towards the stairs. ‘Come up to my room. We’ll soon find you something more suitable.’

  Sally emerged half an hour later wearing a pair of silver hotpants and a black satin top with daring cutaway panels which she felt distinctly unsure of. Sh
aron viewed her with satisfaction.

  ‘You look knock out,’ she announced. ‘Now come on down as they say and meet the gang.’

  By nine o’clock the little house was crammed with people and the noise from the stereo turned up to full volume was deafening. Sharon had laid on plenty of lager and Coke and there was some gin and whisky too. Occasionally there was a loud thumping from the house next door, but Sharon told them to ignore it. The neighbours had been warned and they’d promised to stop at midnight anyway.

  Sally began to enjoy herself. Sharon handed her a large drink.

  ‘What is it?’ Sally asked suspiciously.

  ‘Gin and orange. Get it down you,’ Sharon instructed. ‘It’ll put you in the party mood.’

  Sally sipped the drink and found that Sharon was right. After she had drunk it she found that she felt great, really relaxed and confident. Everything blurred and softened at the edges, making the shabby room and the people in it look nicer and much more fun. Before long she forgot all about her parents, and the lie she had told in order to be here, and began to enjoy herself.

  There were lots of boys there; some she knew and some she didn’t. One in particular took a shine to her, hardly leaving her side from the moment he set eyes on her. They danced together, sat on the stairs to eat crisps and drink cans of lager, discussing the latest pop music and films, then danced again. He told her his name was Greg, and Sally decided that he was quite nice-looking. As they danced he whispered in her ear that she was beautiful and that he’d seen her at college and always fancied her. It was when Sharon put on a record of Chris De Burgh singing Diamond In The Dark and everyone began to hold each other close and sway to the music that Sally felt the first stirrings of excitement. Greg held her tightly against him and began to run his hands over her in a way that sent shivers up and down her spine. His mouth found her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. He bent his head to find the little hollow beneath her ear. Feeling the tremor of pleasure that went through her body, he looked into her eyes.

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

  Sally closed her eyes. She felt strangely excited in a way she had never experienced before. Her stomach was full of butterflies and her heart raced as though something special was about to happen. The rhythm of the music seemed to seep right into her very soul. As Greg repeated his question his hand found her breast, his fingers creeping through one of the cut away panels to touch her. She felt her skin tingle and her nipple hardened against his fingertips. She let her head fall back and a little gasp of delight escaped her parted lips.

  ‘Come on, Sal,’ he urged, edging her towards the door. ‘I know you want to.’

  No one noticed as they climbed the stairs together. In Sharon’s bedroom coats were piled in a heap on the bed. Greg swept them on to the floor and drew her down beside him. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, her lips parting to allow him to explore her mouth with his eager tongue, thrilling to the cool touch of his fingers on her skin as he deftly removed the silver pants and top.

  ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he murmured, his hands eagerly exploring her body as he moved over her. She half opened her eyes and smiled up at him, arching her body sensuously, too languorous to find the words to respond. As he entered her a razor-sharp dart of pain made her tense for a second then, as he began to move, something else took over — something so pleasurable that she found herself clutching at him convulsively, dragging her fingernails down his back, thrusting against him again and again.

  ‘Hey — steady on,’ he murmured. ‘We don’t want it over too soon.’

  But something had taken possession of Sally. She couldn’t get enough of this new sensation. It was as though there were some wonderful prize waiting for her — it was there — just out of reach. She must have it and she would — she would …

  Suddenly Greg pulled abruptly away from her with a cry.

  ‘Christ! You little fool.’

  Sally stared numbly up at him, her eyes opaque, the pupils dilated. Her mind was fuddled. All she was aware of was a feeling of acute let-down. ‘Wh-what’s the matter? Why did you stop?’ she moaned.

  ‘Don’t you know anything?’ He sat up, avoiding her eyes, and turned away. ‘Look, it’s late. I’ve got to go now.’ He stood up and began to drag on his clothes.

  Sally felt oddly detached as she lay there watching him straighten his clothes and comb his hair in front of Sharon’s dressing table mirror. The lovely floating feeling was beginning to wear off and the reality of what she had just done was beginning to dawn on her. She told herself that she didn’t even know his second name and yet she’d made love with him — been as intimate as it was possible for two people to be. But they were facts she didn’t want to face just yet. All she wanted was to blot it all out, curl up and go to sleep.

  *

  She woke to Sharon shaking her.

  ‘Come on, party pooper. A fine party girl you turned out to be. A couple of drinks and all you want to do is come up here and fall asleep.’

  Sally blinked up at her friend. ‘I’m sorry. What’s the time?’

  ‘Half-past seven. You’ve missed the party, stupid. Time for little Cinderella to go home — or did you say you were going over to Hinkley?’

  The events of the previous night had begun to filter back now and Sally sat up. Her head was pounding and her tongue felt thick and dry as felt in her mouth. She ached all over too, but worst of all was the guilt and self-disgust she felt. She’d made love with someone she didn’t even know — allowed him to do things she’d never have permitted Jason to do. And what was worse, she’d enjoyed it — hadn’t been able to get enough. It was as though some other girl had temporarily taken over her body, behaving in a totally alien way. Cheeks burning with shame at the memory of her abandoned behaviour, she got up from the bed and looked at Sharon.

  ‘Can I have a bath?’

  Sharon laughed. ‘What do you think this is — the bleedin’ “Dorchester”?’

  Seeing Sally’s crestfallen expression, she added: ‘Sorry, kiddo, the boiler’s out and there isn’t any hot water. Why don’t you wait till you get over to Hinkley and have a bath at your auntie’s?’

  In the bathroom there were damp towels on the floor and a dark greasy ring around the wash basin. Sally washed as best she could in cold water, then, feeling slightly better, said goodbye to Sharon and walked down the street to catch the bus to Hinkley.

  *

  By the time she sat for her exams Sally knew there was little doubt that she was pregnant. She told no one. Not even Sharon. And she was almost at the end of her tether. In the end, desperate to unburden herself to someone, it was Jason she told.

  It was on a Saturday evening and they were going out for a meal to celebrate her exams being over. He’d booked a table at an Indian restaurant, but the smell of curry made her turn in the doorway, bile rushing into her mouth. Her face drained of colour.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jase. I c-can’t.’ She turned and ran.

  He caught up with her in the car park where she was leaning weakly against the side of the car, her forehead beaded with perspiration. ‘Sal, what’s the matter, love. Are you ill?’ He helped her into the car and she burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, Jason. I’m pregnant. I don’t know what to do.’

  He was shocked. ‘You can’t be pregnant, Sal. We haven’t …’ He broke off, staring at her in dismay as the realisation of what she was telling him sank in.

  He listened patiently to her explanation of what had happened, his face darkening with anger and disgust. Sally looked at him.

  ‘I can see that you hate me for it, and I can’t blame you,’ she said miserably. ‘What I did was unforgivable.’

  ‘I’m not angry with you, silly,’ Jason said. ‘It’s her — Sharon. She shouldn’t have given you strong drink when she knew you weren’t used to it. And this guy — he must have known you didn’t know what you were doing. The lousy creep took advantage.’ His hands clenched into fists. ‘I just wish I could get m
y hands round his rotten neck.’

  ‘You can’t, Jason. It wouldn’t do any good. There’s nothing anyone can do about it now. It’s too late.’ She wished she had the courage to confess to him that she had known what she was doing but just hadn’t cared. The feeling of guilt she had suffered over the way she had thrown herself at Greg had tortured her ever since. It would help so much to share some of that guilt, but she knew she couldn’t. Instead she asked weakly: ‘Oh, Jason, what can I do?’

  ‘Marry me,’ he said decisively. ‘I’m not earning much yet but we could live with Mum to begin with. There’s room now that Paul and Mike have left home, and you and she have always got on well together.’

  ‘Oh, Jason.’ Hope and relief welled up in her heart as she looked up at him. ‘Oh, but — even if we did, it’d be born too soon.’

  ‘We’ll let them think it’s mine, naturally.’

  They’d agreed to talk about it in detail very soon. But as she lay in bed later that night, Sally knew that she could not accept Jason’s noble sacrifice. All her life she had been managed and manipulated; first by the rejection of her natural mother, then by her adoptive parents. Since she had been at college, Sharon had taken it upon herself to organise her life. Even Jason and his mother had influenced her in their own different ways. Finally there had been the unknown boy who had taken his pleasure of her body, used her, then walked away without a backward glance.

  Suddenly she was angry. It was time she took charge of her own life. If she married Jason it would solve one problem only to create another — one that would last for the rest of her life. She liked Jason and respected him, but she didn’t love him and wouldn’t be governed by him. She’d go away by herself. With luck she’d be a qualified florist any day now. She’d get a job and a flat and start her life anew.