One of Your Own (10 page)
Authors: Carol Ann Lee
August 3: Ian likes Boddington’s [
sic
] Bitter Beer.
August 6: Irene Eccles has clicked with a lad she met in April.
August 8: Gone off Ian a bit.
August 10: Tommy is scared of Ian.
August 12: Been to Friendship pub (not with Ian).
August 13: Wonder what ‘Misery’ will be like tomorrow?
August 14: I love Ian all over again. He has a cold and I would love to mother him. Going to a club.
August 19: Visited Belle View [
sic
]. Tony Prendergast and Eddie were there.
August 24: I am in a bad mood because he hasn’t spoken to me today. He still has not made any approach.
August 29: I hope he loves me, and will marry me some day.
13
Myra told her prison therapist that she would ‘daydream about what life would be like with a man like Ian. He was so different to the men I had known before . . . I wanted him badly.’
14
His persistent and probably deliberate refusal to pay her any attention lent him an unreachable air, elevating him above the realms of normality. ‘Some of my friends would feel this way about pop idols or film stars, but my idol was sitting in my office behind his desk,’ Myra recalled. ‘I’m not sure that Ian knew how much I wanted to be with him, but I can accept that perhaps he knew what effect he was having on me and baited me until the time was right.’
15
She still knew next to nothing about him, other than the little she observed at work, but, even with the benefit of hindsight, she admitted, ‘I didn’t know of any of his activities but even if I did I would have ignored them. All that mattered was that I was with him.’
16
14
His persistent and probably deliberate refusal to pay her any attention lent him an unreachable air, elevating him above the realms of normality. ‘Some of my friends would feel this way about pop idols or film stars, but my idol was sitting in my office behind his desk,’ Myra recalled. ‘I’m not sure that Ian knew how much I wanted to be with him, but I can accept that perhaps he knew what effect he was having on me and baited me until the time was right.’
15
She still knew next to nothing about him, other than the little she observed at work, but, even with the benefit of hindsight, she admitted, ‘I didn’t know of any of his activities but even if I did I would have ignored them. All that mattered was that I was with him.’
16
Her diary continues:
August 30: Ian and Bert have had a row. Tommy sided with Bert and said Ian loses his temper too soon.
September 2: Sivori Milk Bar in Clowes St.
September 4, 5, 6: Ian’s moodiness.
September 6: Don’t know anything about Ian (parents, background, etc.).
September 9: Ian mentioned Hadfield to George, I suppose near Glossop. Ian wearing a black shirt today.
September 10: In Siv’s Tony and Eddie were arguing about a girl.
September 14: Marge went in to see Eddie about his tape-recorder.
September 16: Irene’s 21st Birthday Party. Hodge, Tony P and Eddie. I could fall for Eddie.
September 20: Still hoping for date with Ian.
September 23: Saw Eddie drunk (Sportsman’s pub, where we go every Sat).
October 2: Ian has been to Glasgow.
October 8: Ian never talks about his family.
October 9: Eddie lives in the next street to Ian.
October 13: Ian hasn’t spoken to me for several days.
October 18: Ian still ignores me. Fed up. I still love him.
October 19: Ian lives with his mam and dad and hardly ever goes out.
October 21: Malcolm phoned Ian at work and Ian arranged to go to him for drinks.
October 23: I fancy Eddie. I could fall for Ed.
October 25: Ian and Tommy had a row. Ian nearly hit Tommy. Ian swearing. He is uncouth. I thought he was going to hit Nellie [Mrs Egerton, the cleaner, of whom Ian was surprisingly fond; he presented her with a bottle of port every Christmas].
October 28: Royal Oak Pub in Wythenshawe.
November 1: Months now since Ian and I spoke.
November 2: Met Bob, pub crawl, went up to Ashton-under-Lyne, Dukinfield, Denton. Quite a good night.
November 3: Ian swearing at work, using crude words.
November 4: Rodney had drinks at Plough. Rodney said, ‘All Ian is interested in is making money.’
November 6: Ian still not speaking. Called him a big-headed pig.
November 7: Have finished with Eddie. He is courting another girl.
November 28: I’ve given up with Ian. He goes out of his way to annoy me, he insults me and deliberately walks in front of me. I have seen the other side of him and that convinces me he is no good.
December 2: I hate Ian, he has killed all the love I had for him.
December 11: Visited Empress Club, Stockport, with Joan, Irene, Dave.
December 13: Pauline’s party.
December 15: I’m in love with Ian all over again.
17
The breakthrough Myra longed for occurred when she decided to show an interest in one of Ian’s passions: literature. Her own love of reading remained, but she preferred to dip into light novels and magazines like
Valentine
and
Honey
. Hoping to impress Ian, she borrowed
The Collected Works of William Wordsworth
from Gorton Library. Having studied it at school, she was confident she could discuss it if necessary without having to read it from cover to cover. When she took it out at lunchtime in Millwards the next day, Ian glanced up from his game of chess and noticed the thick book in her hands. After a while, he asked her if it was any good. She replied that it was marvellous,
The
Prelude
especially. He took it from her and flicked through the pages, murmuring that he might borrow it himself. Myra was silently euphoric. A few days later she appeared at the office carrying
Songs of Innocence and of Experience
and discovered that Ian was a keen admirer of William Blake. During one of their gradually more frequent conversations, Ian asked her about musical tastes. She was sharp enough to reply that she liked a bit of everything. He confided that he wasn’t a pop fan, but recorded music from television programmes or albums borrowed from the library. He’d bought a Philips tape recorder on hire purchase and Myra immediately did the same, then asked him to lend her some of his music.
Valentine
and
Honey
. Hoping to impress Ian, she borrowed
The Collected Works of William Wordsworth
from Gorton Library. Having studied it at school, she was confident she could discuss it if necessary without having to read it from cover to cover. When she took it out at lunchtime in Millwards the next day, Ian glanced up from his game of chess and noticed the thick book in her hands. After a while, he asked her if it was any good. She replied that it was marvellous,
The
Prelude
especially. He took it from her and flicked through the pages, murmuring that he might borrow it himself. Myra was silently euphoric. A few days later she appeared at the office carrying
Songs of Innocence and of Experience
and discovered that Ian was a keen admirer of William Blake. During one of their gradually more frequent conversations, Ian asked her about musical tastes. She was sharp enough to reply that she liked a bit of everything. He confided that he wasn’t a pop fan, but recorded music from television programmes or albums borrowed from the library. He’d bought a Philips tape recorder on hire purchase and Myra immediately did the same, then asked him to lend her some of his music.
The office Christmas party took place shortly before the holidays. Finishing work at noon one weekday, everyone trooped over to the Haxby, where Myra sat with the women but kept her eye on Ian, who drank heavily. When the pub closed in the afternoon, the Millwards crowd returned to the office, where the desks – one laden with snacks and alcohol – had been pushed back to leave a space for dancing; someone had brought in their record player. Myra sipped rum and Coke, and watched her colleagues pairing off to bop enthusiastically. She was swaying slightly when Ian suddenly appeared at her side and asked her to dance. He kept stepping on her feet as they moved awkwardly about the floor, and then Tom interrupted to ask Ian if he still wanted a lift home. To Myra’s joy, he replied that he was going to walk her home instead. It was pitch black outside when they left the office, weaving a path through Sunny Brow Park, the pond a pale oval in the darkness. As they came out onto Haworth Road, Ian invited her to meet him later that night. Myra was still reeling from having danced with him and recalled, ‘I shook from head to toe, I could hardly breathe.’
18
She saw him onto his bus, then rang her friend Margie: ‘I was on cloud nine. I rushed to a phone and cancelled a night out with the girls I always went out with. They were really pleased when I told them I was going out with Ian, for I’d talked about him incessantly.’
19
18
She saw him onto his bus, then rang her friend Margie: ‘I was on cloud nine. I rushed to a phone and cancelled a night out with the girls I always went out with. They were really pleased when I told them I was going out with Ian, for I’d talked about him incessantly.’
19
Keyed up with excitement, she arrived home to find Maureen and their cousin Glenys nattering to Gran. Myra begged her sister to nip out to the chemist to buy her some perfume and mascara while she freshened up and had a quick tea. After reapplying her make-up and lacquering her hair, she left Bannock Street and headed to the bus stop where Ian had suggested they meet. When the bus turned down from Gorton Lane, she saw him standing on the open rear platform; he reached out his hand and she stepped up next to him. They spent the evening bussing from pub to pub: the Three Arrows in Gorton, the Thatched House in town and another one whose name escaped her when she tried to remember it afterwards (‘we were both drunk’).
20
Her only clear memory of their conversation was that Ian had declared himself an obsessive fan of
The Goon Show
and kept launching into impressions of the characters played by Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Michael Bentine. Myra was vaguely familiar with the radio show, which ran from 1951 until 1960 and was filled with juvenile jokes, nonsense songs and catchphrases. If she’d known more about Ian, she would have understood its appeal; satirist Jonathan Miller described it as ‘a send-up of British imperialism’ that did ‘an enormous amount to subvert the social order’.
21
But his love of
The Goon Show
was all Ian revealed about himself that evening.
20
Her only clear memory of their conversation was that Ian had declared himself an obsessive fan of
The Goon Show
and kept launching into impressions of the characters played by Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Michael Bentine. Myra was vaguely familiar with the radio show, which ran from 1951 until 1960 and was filled with juvenile jokes, nonsense songs and catchphrases. If she’d known more about Ian, she would have understood its appeal; satirist Jonathan Miller described it as ‘a send-up of British imperialism’ that did ‘an enormous amount to subvert the social order’.
21
But his love of
The Goon Show
was all Ian revealed about himself that evening.
They missed the last bus back to Gorton and ended up walking home through dimly lit Ardwick. When they arrived at Bannock Street, Ian asked if he could come in, but Myra refused: ‘I told him my gran might still be up.’
22
He made a clumsy attempt to kiss her before saying goodnight. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom in an exultant daze.
22
He made a clumsy attempt to kiss her before saying goodnight. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom in an exultant daze.
At Millwards, Ian behaved as if nothing had happened between them, but in a quiet moment he asked her to the pictures the following Saturday. Myra marked the date triumphantly in her diary: 22 December 1961. History records that the film they saw was
Judgement at Nuremberg
, but Myra recollected it as Nicholas Ray’s biblical epic
King of Kings
, narrated by Ian’s favourite actor, Orson Welles.
23
They sat through the film in complete silence, apart from Myra’s sniffing, as she tried not to cry, then they walked on to the Thatched House. This time, Ian was more forthcoming, as, needled by the film, he talked about his hatred of religion. He dismissed the Bible, Catholic Mass, incense and confession as drivel for the intellectually weak; his views ‘demolished’ Myra’s attempts to counter-argue: ‘He convinced me that my faith, that all religions, were superstitions instilled in us as conventional norms. Religions, he said, were a crutch people used to hobble through life on, the opium of the people. And I believed him because I thought I loved him, and his arguments were so convincing he demolished my tiny precepts with a single word . . .’
24
She must have told him something about her own past since he asked why God had allowed Michael Higgins to die. She couldn’t answer. Michael’s death had undermined the foundations of her faith, which she had tried to rebuild without success, and Ian’s words crumbled them to nothing.
Judgement at Nuremberg
, but Myra recollected it as Nicholas Ray’s biblical epic
King of Kings
, narrated by Ian’s favourite actor, Orson Welles.
23
They sat through the film in complete silence, apart from Myra’s sniffing, as she tried not to cry, then they walked on to the Thatched House. This time, Ian was more forthcoming, as, needled by the film, he talked about his hatred of religion. He dismissed the Bible, Catholic Mass, incense and confession as drivel for the intellectually weak; his views ‘demolished’ Myra’s attempts to counter-argue: ‘He convinced me that my faith, that all religions, were superstitions instilled in us as conventional norms. Religions, he said, were a crutch people used to hobble through life on, the opium of the people. And I believed him because I thought I loved him, and his arguments were so convincing he demolished my tiny precepts with a single word . . .’
24
She must have told him something about her own past since he asked why God had allowed Michael Higgins to die. She couldn’t answer. Michael’s death had undermined the foundations of her faith, which she had tried to rebuild without success, and Ian’s words crumbled them to nothing.
According to Myra’s autobiography, she and Ian became lovers that night, on the bumpy settee in Gran’s house on Bannock Street.
25
She described the loss of her virginity as an act of semi-violence, which she instigated by kissing Ian ferociously. It crossed her mind to wonder whether he was as inexperienced as she was, but she didn’t question him. There is no mention in her diary of the occasion at all.
25
She described the loss of her virginity as an act of semi-violence, which she instigated by kissing Ian ferociously. It crossed her mind to wonder whether he was as inexperienced as she was, but she didn’t question him. There is no mention in her diary of the occasion at all.
Although she asserted later in life that for months after their first date she became ‘a Saturday-night stand’, she spent Christmas Eve with Ian. The two of them were on Gorton Lane when they heard church bells tolling for midnight Mass.
26
Despite Ian’s hatred of religion and her own diminished beliefs, she wanted to attend the service – if only for the atmosphere. He flatly refused to enter a Roman Catholic church but allowed her to lead him to St James’s Anglican church. After the service, they walked through the churchyard and, according to Myra’s autobiography, Ian ‘walked across the grass to the edge of the graves, where he casually urinated’.
27
He took a draught of whisky from the bottle he had concealed under his coat and announced, ‘That’s what I think of Christianity.’
28
26
Despite Ian’s hatred of religion and her own diminished beliefs, she wanted to attend the service – if only for the atmosphere. He flatly refused to enter a Roman Catholic church but allowed her to lead him to St James’s Anglican church. After the service, they walked through the churchyard and, according to Myra’s autobiography, Ian ‘walked across the grass to the edge of the graves, where he casually urinated’.
27
He took a draught of whisky from the bottle he had concealed under his coat and announced, ‘That’s what I think of Christianity.’
28
In her unpublished and re-written autobiography, she added a final line, almost as an afterthought: ‘Little did I realise then that his graves would be marked by photographs and not headstones.’
29
29
Ian’s conduct on Christmas Eve failed to repulse Myra; she wanted to see the new year in with him and records in her diary (where the incident in the graveyard doesn’t feature):
December 31: Went to see
El Cid
with Ian. Ian brought a bottle of German wine and a bottle of whisky, to let New Year in. Dad spoke to Ian as if he’d known him for years. [Ian] is so gentle he makes me want to cry.
30
But Myra’s mother didn’t like Ian; he reminded her too much of her husband, and shortly before her death she recalled, ‘I wouldn’t have him in the house.’
31
Myra confronted her at some point, reproaching Nellie for being prejudiced against Ian’s Scottish roots, but her mother’s dislike arose from parallels she saw with Bob, Ian’s affectations – his love of long words and air of superiority – and, quite simply, because ‘I just never liked him.’
32
31
Myra confronted her at some point, reproaching Nellie for being prejudiced against Ian’s Scottish roots, but her mother’s dislike arose from parallels she saw with Bob, Ian’s affectations – his love of long words and air of superiority – and, quite simply, because ‘I just never liked him.’
32
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