The Last Dance

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by Carolyn McCrae


  He had to call her.

  He had left home, he had been away for five days, and he hadn’t been in touch with her once.

  She had last seen him on Sunday, by Friday she knew he wouldn’t call, yet still she played ‘ifs’ with the devil.

  She was too lonely to enjoy being on her own. She must have someone to spend her time with. She needed a boyfriend, someone whom she could look forward to seeing, who she could see every day, who would be with her whenever she needed him.

  By the end of that week she realised that wouldn’t be Carl.

  Five days can seem like no time at all, they can pass without anything changing, without even being noticed. But those five days were a very long time for Susannah.

  They changed her.

  By the weekend she had grown up. Yes, she had decided. She would do part of what Monika had said, she wouldn’t depend on her family any more. But she knew herself well enough to realise that she wouldn’t be able to be alone. She would have to find someone else to depend on.

  Ever since she could remember she had concentrated all her thoughts on Carl, gauged everything she did by what he would think. There would have to be someone else to tell her she was pretty, clever, a good girl, someone else to give her the praise and approval that were essential to her.

  It wasn’t long before she regretted not having made any attempt to follow Monika’s advice.

  They hadn’t seen Joe when he came back to fetch his boat. By the time the household was up and about on the Monday morning the boat had gone.

  He did not return the clothes he had borrowed or pick up his old ones until the following Saturday morning. “Sorry, I’ve been at work.” He explained, he also explained having to take the skiff without seeing them “the tide – I had to get it while the tide was OK and before going on shift.”

  It all seemed perfectly plausible.

  Some time later, when she knew him better, Susannah realised that Joe had been very clever. He had let her recover, not pushed himself forward before she had had a chance to get over whatever it was that had upset her, allow time enough for her to get curious about him.

  “We thought you’d forgotten” Susannah had said as he took the tidy pile of clothes from her – his jeans, checked shirt and underpants. Monika darned the pants. She said she had never seen such a holey pair. Have you really got seven brothers and sisters – they were talking about you last night. Does one of your sisters work at the Lighthouse Keeper? My brother Charles, he sometimes goes in there for a drink. He likes it in there.”

  In her nervousness Susannah kept chatting on, not really about anything and Joe didn’t respond. He took the clothes from her and went to walk away.

  She could have let him go.

  They would have passed each other occasionally in the street, maybe not even acknowledging each other, knowing and caring little about the other. Max would have given the family some money by way of reward, perhaps Joe would have been able to buy his own boat. Susannah’s life would have been so different, children would never have been born, the paths of many people’s lives would have been altered.

  But she didn’t let him go.

  “Do you fancy me?”

  Joe could have ignored this question as coming from an arrogant, spoilt little girl, but she hadn’t spoken provocatively, she wasn’t flirting with him as the other girls did, she had asked him a direct question. It even sounded quite innocent.

  He had known from when he had been sitting around the kitchen table the previous Sunday that he would get something from the family and he had been more ambitious than getting just a boat. He had been aware then that they wouldn’t throw him out because they were beholden to him, but he had quickly decided he was going to be accepted in that family however he behaved. He would get involved with them so closely that they could never throw him out. He wanted to be able to be in that house, in that company, as of right – not because they invited him.

  So he played Susannah as he would a troublesome fish and reeled her in gently.

  “What do you expect me to say?”

  “I just wondered, because you couldn’t take your eyes off me in the kitchen last week.” She wasn’t used to talking to men she didn’t know. She had never flirted with anyone. Since she was old enough to go out with boys she had gone out with Carl, he’d been the only boy she was ever interested in. This situation had never arisen before for her.

  She had no way of knowing that conversations like this very quickly got out of control.

  “What if I do fancy you?”

  “We could go for a walk. Talk, get to know each other a little better.”

  “OK. Let’s go.”

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  He crammed the carefully ironed bundle of clean clothes into his greasy brown duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder and they walked together down along the coast towards West Kirby.

  It was a Saturday morning but the dunes were deserted, it was one of those days when the sea mist hugged the coast. Less than a mile inland it would be sunny and warm – but along the coast it was chilly and misty, not even dog-walking weather. So they had the dunes to themselves.

  After walking for a few minutes, not really talking, Joe took her hand and made her stop and sit down, in a small sheltered dip in the sand. He sat down beside her. She thought she knew what was going to happen. She was prepared for him when he turned and kissed her.

  She had always enjoyed kissing Carl. He was the only boy who had ever kissed her properly. But this was different. Carl had been gentle and loving. She had never wanted him to stop. She had asked him to go further, but she hadn’t known the right words. She had thought it would just happen naturally that one day they would go all the way. But they hadn’t.

  But with Joe it seemed like she could feel his hunger for her, he was kissing her roughly until she seemed bruised and scraped by the stubble on his chin. When she felt him pushing her down so she was lying on the sand she didn’t object and just kissed him back harder. When he pulled up her sweater and t-shirt she felt excited in parts of her that he wasn’t even touching. She knew she was getting carried away but she couldn’t have stopped him even if she had tried.

  And she didn’t try.

  How different this felt.

  With Carl he had always stopped, leaving her feeling lost, bereft, lonely.

  Now she knew Joe would go all the way.

  She loved the feelings she was having, she never wanted him to stop, it felt so good but far too soon he rolled off her, leaving a trail of sticky moisture on her stomach. He held her wrists down against the ground as her face gradually relaxed and her body lay still.

  They lay back in the sand, each thinking their own, very different, thoughts. Joe had made her feel so many things she had never felt before. She knew Carl would have been gentler, less confident and maybe she knew she wouldn’t have felt the way she did now. Joe hadn’t fumbled as Carl would have done, Joe had known what he was doing and Carl was just as much a virgin as she had been.

  She lay back in the sand trying to relax but trying to remember the feeling of that itch she didn’t even know she had being scratched, she didn’t ever want to lose the memory of that feeling. She hoped she would do this again and again.

  “You’ve done that before.”

  He laughed “Of course I have. Haven’t you?”

  “No”

  “Shit.”

  “No don’t worry, I’m glad I have now. It’s just that I haven’t really had the opportunity before.”

  It hadn’t really occurred to him to ask before but he thought he had better now “How old are you?”

  “16 How old are you?”

  “Well that’s all right then” he ignored her question as he kissed her roughly and started working on her again, he wanted it again and so it seems did she.

  His immediate needs had been satisfied the first time, so, as he let her do what she wanted, his mind was free. This was the first part
of his reward, but the more ambitious plan was working. He was going to marry her, marry all that money, get some of that space and some of those things – a house, a television, a car – that they took for granted, that up to this moment he could only have dreamt of. He had her now, he knew how to get her and to keep her from getting away. But first he had to be nice.

  He came again and pushed himself off her, lying next to her in the dunes. “You really have never done that before?”

  “Was I alright?” He ignored her rather pathetic question.

  “Look, we’ve been here ages, I’d better get you home.”

  “Will I see you again?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow? Sunday? I don’t know we usually.... No. tomorrow. Great.”

  “When?”

  “Oh 7ish”

  She had been about to say that the family usually spent Sunday evenings together and she never went out on a Sunday evening, especially with school the next day but that was all in the past now.

  “Where?”

  “The bandstand.”

  No one in her group of friends ever went to the bandstand. A group practised there and there was talk of drugs and all sorts. Carl and Susannah, all their friends and anybody respectable had spent their time in the town, at the coffee bar or sometimes even the pub, even though they were too young, but down on the prom? The bandstand? That was an entirely different group of people. That was where people hung out who couldn’t afford the coffee, couldn’t afford the half pints of shandy and beer. It was risky. It was exciting. It was the new Susannah.

  “I’ll be there”

  “Sure? You know what you are getting yourself into?”

  “Sure.”

  If she couldn’t have what she wanted she would explore. She couldn’t have Carl, she would have to find someone else. It was fate. She had made a pact with fate as she had been rowed back to shore the week before ‘whatever life threw at her’ and it appeared ‘life’ had chosen Joe.

  Someone she knew her father would hate.

  She got there before he did, and stood feeling very conspicuous, with three or four other girls listening to the band practise. There was a group – a drummer, two guitars and a singer who didn’t seem to play anything but just rattled some maracas. They weren’t much good but this was the time when groups, even not very good groups, could strike lucky and get a record made. The song she liked most was Save the Last Dance for me. She listened to the words, trying piecing a story together:

  You can dance

  Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye

  Let him hold you tight

  That was Joe, dancing with her, holding her close.

  You can smile

  Every smile for the guy who’d like to treat you right

  ‘neath the pale moonlight

  She would spend time with Joe. Joe would treat her right, not leave her wanting more all the time.

  But don’t forget who’s takin’ you home

  and in whose arms you’re gonna be

  That will be Carl. Carl will take me home in the end.

  Oh, darlin’, save the last dance for me

  She would be with Carl in the end.

  She was only using Joe. She wouldn’t, ever, forget Carl.

  When Joe turned up that first evening, nearer 7.30 than 7, he said he was sorry to be late and then took her hand and walked away from the others back towards the sand dunes.

  This time he had a durex. She had never seen one before and didn’t know what to do when he told her to put it on him.

  “You won’t tell anyone will you?”

  “What? Tell them that you and I ....”

  “Tell them anything.”

  “Who would I tell? I don’t know any of your friends.”

  “And I don’t know yours.”

  “And that’s the way it should stay.”

  But, despite that, from then on Susannah met Joe most nights.

  She didn’t think she liked him very much and they didn’t have much in common but she loved the sex. And she knew how much her father would hate him.

  She went back to live in Dunedin Avenue at the end of the following week. She could not call it, and said she never thought of it as ‘home’. It was so completely different. There was no Carl. The house seemed empty without him.

  It had changed in other ways as neither Kathleen nor her father seemed to have any interest in what she did. Kathleen didn’t throw her weight about, she didn’t tell her off for being late in at night. Her father had never taken much interest in what she was doing but now he took none whatsoever, withdrawing into himself the little time he was in the house. They never asked her what she was doing, where she was going, who she was seeing. Neither Kathleen nor Arnold seemed to have any interest in her or authority over her any more. She lived in their house but she did exactly what she wanted, when she wanted.

  Perhaps they knew she wasn’t going to tell them anything even if they had asked.

  Perhaps they were overwhelmed by their failure which was further emphasised at Charles’ 21st birthday dinner. This event had taken place the night before Susannah returned to Dunedin Avenue. The dinner had been awful, no one was comfortable and, although the food and wine were excellent, it is doubtful that anyone enjoyed the evening. Max had told them over coffee that he had made Charles his heir, an announcement that served only to deepen Susannah’s resentment against her brother. Charles would have everything and she nothing. It wasn’t fair.

  Arnold, who had been invited to the evening with Kathleen long before the events of the previous week, could only be made more aware of the differences between their fortunes and those of his elder son now, undoubtedly, a rich man.

  Susannah carried on at school – exams were close and she didn’t want to fail. She realised, without Carl to look after her, it was more important than ever that she do well and get into university so she could leave home for good. She dropped all her old friends, they only reminded her of Carl and a different life.

  So all she did at school was work. She stayed late every day doing her homework in the library so she had no reason to stay in at home.

  With no friends and no real family she was as alone as it was possible to be. She heard nothing from Carl or Charles. She was uncontrolled by anyone who might have cared for her.

  When she wasn’t working she spent her time with Joe, playing on the swings and roundabouts of the kids’ playground as the boys played knock-about football on the rec, hanging over the embankment railings watching Joe mess about with his brothers on the boat, hanging around street corners. Then the gang would pair off to go their separate ways and she and Joe would go down to the dunes. Most nights Joe took precautions. He said he didn’t want to get her pregnant.

  But, of course, that was exactly what he did want.

  And it took rather longer than he had hoped.

  It hadn’t been too much of a trial through the summer and autumn after they got together. Things were a little more difficult once winter came, it was a cold winter and they couldn’t do it out of doors but there were empty cottages that were easy to break into and he always managed to find somewhere.

  And he persevered.

  He wasn’t going to get this far, put up with all the taunts of his mates who couldn’t understand what he saw in the stuck up girl they called Sue, just to give up.

  Charles should, perhaps, have taken more care about his sister. He should have made the effort to see how she was getting on. But he didn’t. She was living with Kathleen and Arnold, surely they would make sure she was OK. She wasn’t his responsibility. Nor could he blame himself for the results of their neglect.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The wedding was a small one. Arnold had no money but would have found some had circumstances been different. It was left to Max and Charles who, with Monika, did what they could to make the occasion as enjoyable as possible.

  No one was particularly pleased that Susannah a
nd Joe were getting married. So it was just Arnold and Kathleen, Max, Monika and Charles, Alicia and myself who gathered at Sandhey with most members of the Parry family at the end of April 1964.

  I had been invited to the reception, despite Arnold’s objections, as I was escorting Alicia, who had unexpectedly accepted her invitation. “Curiosity, Ted,” she said years later “that’s the only reason I went.”

  I had been happy to accept her invitation as it gave me an opportunity to make my mind up about Joe. Max has asked me to find him a position at Roberts and Jones.

  I found myself next to Kathleen who had obviously drunk too much of the champagne. “Of course this is what he has been aiming at since last summer. Nothing but an oversexed gold-digger.” She said rather too loudly, ignoring the fact that several of his family were within earshot. “Nice work if you can get it.”

  Charles joined us, ever the host ensuring a ‘situation’ didn’t arise, and tried to be positive. “Good looking chap though.”

  “He’s so much older.” I commented

  “Maybe she found someone she could rely on.” Charles apparently couldn’t resist the pointed remark.

  “You’re joking – rely on?” Kathleen was uncompromising in her contempt. “What’s he going to do for a living? He can’t do whatever it is he has been doing, was it fishing or gardening, can he? Not with a wife and child to look after?”

  “Kathleen, shut up, Pots and Kettles.” Charles had no need to be polite to his step-mother. “Anyway he’s probably going to work for Ted.”

  Kathleen raised her eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as I answered her unvoiced question. “He seems, believe it or not, to be very bright. He’s just never had the same chances as you or me. Max would like me to give Joe a chance – if only for Susannah’s sake.” and left them to it.

  I had liked Kathleen once, she had been an intelligent, gentle and friendly person until she had married Arnold and now she just seemed bitter. I walked back towards Alicia, bottle in hand.

  How she had changed since the previous summer.

 

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