No Ordinary Woman

by Valerie Byron

  When my week’s vacation was over, June took the train home, and Geoff decided to drive me to his parent’s home in Reading, Surrey. They were living in Singapore, and we would have the place to ourselves. He was easy to be with, very accepting and loving, and I soon became wrapped up in him and a possible future. I was twenty-one years old and desperately wanted to be in love. I had no clue what “love” was. Sex with Geoff was not earth-shattering, just pleasant. I certainly had never experienced an orgasm in my short sexual life, and didn’t with him.

  Geoff Rogers – my second fiancé – 1963

  Geoff proposed to me while we were at his parent’s house and I accepted. It was total insanity because I really knew very little about him. He insisted I take his car home with me, and bring it back at a later date. I accepted with glee, as it was a rare treat to have a car of my own. I was full of excitement. I had become engaged to a very handsome young man, and was eager to share the news with all my friends.

  Several weeks after arriving home, I persuaded Moira to drive back to Portsmouth with me to return the car. We got lost several times, but laughed all the way, until we finally arrived at the Naval Station. We took the train home and I continued my life, now as an engaged young woman. However, there were still events to attend with my girlfriends – young men to meet – and I found it difficult to remain celibate.

  One evening, Moira and I attended a dance at the Sale Rugby Club. It was on this occasion that I was to meet Johnny Williams, the thirty-one year old star rugby player who had once played for Wales. It was lust at first sight. I accepted an invitation to go home with Johnny, which was a big mistake. Our repartee became off-colour, and for some reason he slapped me, hard. I left his apartment, crying, and made my way to Zelda and Mike’s apartment. The two of them had recently married due to Zelda’s pregnancy, and they lived close by. I knocked on their door, in tears, and they took me in. Despite the fact that my first “date,” as such, with Johnny Williams had turned into a disaster, I was still very much attracted to him, and wondered if I would see him again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  My job was going nowhere. I was depressed and tired of reading about people’s bad marriages every day. I soon found myself another job, working for a firm of architects in a brand new building in Manchester. The work was not inspiring, and the young men I worked with were pleasant enough, but what caught my eye was the building across the street – Granada Television. The place was magical and as soon as I saw it, I was determined to get a job there. I spent a few months working for the architects, but it wasn’t too long before I had my longed-for interview. My life had to change, and I knew it would if I could just get into Granada.

  When my appointment for an interview was confirmed, I was determined to impress the Director of Personnel, Derek Roberts. And I obviously did. I was young, attractive and could take shorthand at one hundred words per minute. My typing was fast and I was accurate, so it was easy to land the job. I was soon ensconced in the typing pool at Granada, which was where all the young typists started out. We sat in rows, before old-fashioned manual typewriters, and transcribed whatever we were given from the Head of the Typing Pool. Every once in a while, we were selected to go “upstairs” to work for a specific department. Some were boring, like Engineering or Sales, and others were quite fascinating, like working for the Light Entertainment Department, Press Office or the News Room. Being chosen to temp for a producer or director of a television drama or series was what we all yearned for, because it offered the chance of a permanent and very exciting position.

  I wasn’t in the Typing Pool for long before I was recruited by Rupert Smith in Sales and Advertising. It wasn’t terribly interesting, but I had a nice young woman working with me, and we had lots of laughs. Unfortunately, I had not learned to keep my mouth shut, and it didn’t take long before I angered Rupert by talking back to him in front of a client. To my utter shock and dismay, he fired me. I took the train home, in absolute despair. I loved Granada and never wanted to leave. What on earth was I going to do?

  By the time I arrived home, the phone we had recently had installed was ringing. It was a man from Granada called Roy who worked for the Union. He must have heard of my firing and spent no time in getting a call to me. I had never heard of a union before, or understood what they did for employees. When Roy explained that I could attend a hearing, and perhaps get my job back, I was elated. Needless to say, all went well and I returned to work after a two week suspension without pay.

  The firing had really shocked me, so I was determined to behave myself in the future. I returned to the Typing Pool with newfound optimism and the hope that I could be placed in a more interesting slot within the company.

  By this time my fiancé, Geoff, was phoning, urging me to come to Portsmouth to see him. I had mixed emotions because I had become totally besotted with Johnny Williams. He had never taken me out on a date, or spent money on me but I didn’t care. I was crazy about him. He would call at the last minute to ask me to come over to his place, and I would go. We would have sex, and he would allow me to take his car home, returning it the following day. I thought he was being kind and generous. Little did I know that he couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed to drive me back to my flat. I was being used sexually, without any love or affection, but didn’t have the smarts to realise it. I was emotionally involved for the very first time with a man who was incapable of loving anyone. Even if I did not hear from him for weeks at a time, whenever he called I was ready and available. Wanting to be free to pursue a relationship with Johnny, I knew that I should do the decent thing, and break off my engagement to Geoff.

  Geoff had visited me in Sale a few weeks prior, during which time we had a huge argument. He had no idea what he wanted to do when he graduated from the Naval Academy, and had very odd ideas about fatherhood. None of it went down well with me, and my feelings for him were lessening by the second. When he later phoned, urging me to visit him in Portsmouth, I decided to tell him the truth face-to-face. That was a first for me, a cowardly girl, who usually preferred to write a “Dear John” letter than break it off in person.

  I took the train to Portsmouth to meet Geoff and, after a brief reunion, decided to return home right away without even leaving the station. I broke off our engagement there and then on the railway platform. Geoff begged me to reconsider, tears streaming down his face. I felt nothing, except pity, and stood my ground, as difficult as it was. All I could think about was getting home to Johnny Williams. I am sorry I hurt Geoff so badly – but he was undeniably better off without me.

  It wasn’t long after I ended the engagement with Geoff that I heard from David Richardson again. He and Susan had only been married for about a year, and I had heard from neither of them apart from a brief visit to their new home at Susan’s request. She had proudly shown me her music room and piano, hoping I would be jealous. I wasn’t.

  It was late at night, and I was in bed when I heard a knocking at my door. Hoping it was Johnny I opened the door to find David standing there, looking the worse for wear, drunk and very tired. He asked me to go for a drive with him, and we motored out into the countryside. He stopped the car, turned to me, and begged me to take him back. He told me Susan was not the woman he thought she was, and they were getting a divorce. I wasn’t surprised, but I thought he had a lot of nerve coming back to me. As far as I was concerned, it was too little, too late. He had betrayed me and hurt me badly, and there was no way I was going back to him. I told him I would be his friend, but nothing more. I discovered that once a man has cheated on me, I would lose all feeling for him. I was never to change about that. As far as Johnny Williams was concerned, breaking off my engagement for him had been for naught. We had one or two more “dates” and he stopped calling me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Life at Granada Television continued to be magical, and I was totally wrapped up in it, especially socially. I stopped going out with Pauline and her friends at night, and focused my atten
tion on the people I was meeting at work. I made friends with several young women who worked with me, and we would go to the pub or clubs in the evenings to drink and meet people.

  Shortly after my 21st birthday I had received a letter from my father. It was the first communication I had ever received from him and I was totally surprised, yet intrigued. He asked if we could meet for a drink. I was still living with my mother in our flat in Sale, and asked her what I should do. Being the forgiving soul that she was, she encouraged me to go out with him for a drink and hear what he had to say. She knew I had always longed for my father, and was generous enough to encourage me to see him.

  When the night finally arrived, he showed up at our door wearing a very obvious, ill-fitting black toupee. I am sure my mother had no idea who he was at first, as he had been bald since his early twenties. They said a quick “hello” to each other, and I left the flat with him.

  I nervously got into his car and he took me to the same hotel where he had had his affair. We had a drink, my first “Black Russian,” and talked. When he brought me home, I looked into his incredibly blue eyes and sobbed “Why did you leave me, Dad?” I can’t remember what he said, but it could not have been very satisfactory, as he failed to explain why he had never been in touch with me in twenty-one years.

  Some weeks after this meeting, my father wrote to me again. He told me that after having met me, he had decided to leave his wife, and children. He was taking a flat in Sale, and moving in with his thirteen year old son, my half-brother, Robbie. What on earth did he hope to find here? Did he expect my mother, brother and I would welcome him with open arms after all these years?

  My mother was working in Alan Aitchison’s firm at this time, and was kind enough to secure a position for my father as Company Secretary, which was certainly more than he deserved. It was incredibly good of her to be so big-hearted, especially since my father had been such a shit to all of us. He found a small place for himself and Robbie, and drove to the office every day. Never did he think of driving to our flat first and offering my mother or me a ride, especially since my mother worked in the same firm, and had to take the bus.

  Sometimes he would see me waiting at the bus stop, and would occasionally pull over to give me a ride to work, but that was only once in a while. As ever, he was incredibly selfish and self-involved.

  I visited him and Robbie a few times at their flat, but we never became close. My half-brother, John, visited my father on one occasion while I was there. He was a few years younger than me and looked exactly like me. I felt a real connection looking at John, but I never saw him again after that one meeting. When Alan and his fiancée, Jackie, came to Sale for visits, we would occasionally stop by to see our father. Unfortunately, our relationship never progressed beyond polite strangers, and I never felt comfortable in his presence.

  One day, as I was tapping away on the typewriter in the Typing Pool, I glanced up and spied a young man looking in through the window from the corridor. He smiled and waved at me, and I smiled back. I asked around later and found out that he was a Floor Manager named Les Davis, who had transferred to Granada from London. He flirted with me on every occasion, and I was drawn to his Cockney accent and blue-eyed, curly haired good looks. I was still dating up a storm, as there seemed to be an ongoing supply of actors and directors, and did not have the time to get involved with Les at that point in time. However, I enjoyed the flirtatious glances we gave each other.

  One evening, I had been drinking at the New Theatre, which was a local pub catering to the television crowd. I had gone there with Anthony Ainley, an actor who was appearing in a television series called “It’s Dark Outside”. Tony was later to become quite well known for his leading role in “Dr. Who” but, at that time, was relatively new to British audiences. He was the grandson of the Shakespearean actor, Sir Henry Ainley, and was quite proud of this fact. He was ten years older than me and quite remote and snooty with his peers.

  We arrived at the pub that evening, only to run into Oliver Reed, who was also appearing in a television series. Oliver was, in my opinion, very vain and bombastic. Watching him gaze lovingly at himself in a mirror when he thought no-one was looking was enough to put me off him. I would not give him the time of day, and he was quite put out that his charms were wasted on me. As he saw Tony and me walk through the door of the pub, he made several disparaging remarks, which we tried to ignore. I could understand why he had a huge knife scar on his face from a fight, as he was very obnoxious indeed.

  Les Davis, my Cockney Floor Manager, was also in the pub that night, and watched me with Anthony, smirking into his beer. Later, as Tony and I left the pub, Les pulled me aside and asked me for a date.

  “Maybe,” I responded flirtatiously, smiling and pulling away.

  Tony and I went back to his “digs” and I spent the night with him. It was quite strange and uncomfortable, especially since he avoided me touching his hair, which turned out to be a hairpiece. Such is the vanity of actors.

  Les made a beeline for me several nights later at a Granada party and, after weeks of coy looks and incredible chemistry, we ended up spending the evening together. I enjoyed being with Les immensely. He was funny and cute, and made me laugh. I hoped I would see him again.

  While I was still in the middle of my affair with Anthony Ainley, and just becoming infatuated with Les Davis, I was also casually involved with a Norwegian man I had met through my cousin. His name was Magnus Thom and we had casually dated on and off for about a year. Magnus had been attending university in Britain and was due to return home to Oslo. He asked me to come back with him and lured me with the promise of a fully paid trip. I agreed, mainly because I had never really seen much of the world, and thought Norway would be an interesting place to visit.

  We took a boat cruise to Oslo and were met by his father, who worked at the Norwegian consul. We motored to his home in a black Mercedes, stopping to have a sandwich at a fancy hotel. Norwegian sandwiches are nothing like those found in England. The one I chose had layers of chicken, peaches, and salad and was indescribably delicious. When we finally arrived at his parent’s home, I was somewhat intimidated. They had servants, and his parents behaved incredibly formally with each other. I had my own room and was starting to wonder why I had come. I wasn’t feeling at all comfortable.

  Fortunately, his parents left almost immediately for a ski vacation, and Magnus and I explored the city of Oslo, which appeared to me as old-fashioned and stuffy. He introduced me to his friends, who refused to speak English, chattering away in Norwegian. A few days later, we drove to the ski resort where his parents were staying, and enjoyed a lavish buffet lunch. Although the scenery and surroundings were very beautiful, I was feeling alienated from Magnus, homesick, and ready to go home.

  Upon our arrival back in Oslo, I told Magnus that I wanted to leave. Unfortunately, I had a big problem – I had no money whatsoever.

  Magnus exclaimed “How can you travel with no money?”

  Little did he realise that I never carried any cash – I had none! I was earning about fifteen pounds a week with a constant overdraft at the bank. However, he generously agreed to pay my air fare back to England, and even gave me spending money. I took leave of him with a sigh of relief, and he dropped me off at the airport. The flight stopped in Copenhagen, and I had to change planes. While waiting for my flight to London, I spent all the money he had given me on gifts for Les Davis and Anthony Ainley.

  Taking a seat in the boarding area, I noticed a very handsome young man eying me. I smiled at him, taking note of his dark, broody good looks. We boarded the same flight, and I noticed he was seated across the aisle. I smiled at him, and he somehow managed to find a seat next to me. As we chatted, I discovered that he had the very sexy name of Nick Bond. He told me he was half American, and lived in London. He was very handsome and naturally I was attracted to him. What young lady wouldn’t be? When he departed the flight in London, he asked if I would visit him in the future, and I hap
pily agreed.

  Arriving back in the UK, I gave Tony his gift, a carved wooden figure from the airport, and said goodbye in order to start my new romance with Les. I found that being with Les, who was ten years older than me, a whole new experience.

  He was a heavy smoker and drinker, and would spend night after night at the pub, or gambling in clubs. After our first meeting, we were with each other constantly. I found him incredibly attractive and, for the first time in my life, enjoyed a fulfilling sex life, experiencing my first orgasm!

  My time at work was spent looking for him in the cafeteria or the halls, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. The knowledge that I would see him each day would fill me with excitement as I got ready for work. I was truly hooked.

  We had been together a few weeks when Kathy, the switchboard operator, gave me some news that totally shook my world. She stopped me in the Reception area of Granada one day and said, “Val, I have something to tell you. Les Davis is married. He has four children. Didn’t you know that? People are talking.”

  I was in shock and didn’t know what to do. A married man? Oh God, no. How could he have been so deceptive? My first instinct was to break off with him immediately. Having lived without a father all my life, I knew the perils of getting involved with a married man.

  Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way we intend. I was so infatuated with Les that I let him persuade me to keep on seeing him. He insisted that he and his wife lived separate lives, and that he had no relationship with her. He said they lived together “for the children” but had nothing else. I wanted to believe him and being young, foolish and in lust, I chose to do so. Thus started four and a half years of an emotional roller coaster ride that would not, and could not, end until I decided to leave the country.