sUnwanted Truthst (13 page)

BOOK: sUnwanted Truthst
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‘I feel terrible,' said Jenny as she struggled into her trousers.

Mike wrapped his arms around her. ‘Don't worry. I'm pleased I'm the first.' Jenny reached under her jumper, refastened her bra and then ran her fingers through her hair.

‘Go downstairs. I'll be down in a minute to make you a drink. Is tea O.K?'

‘Yes, fine.'

Jenny wandered around the lounge, thinking that it was virtually a replica of Dido's house. Two bookcases filled with books stood either side of the fireplace. There was an open piano at the far end of the room with a sheet of music on the stand; photographs covered the sideboard. She picked up one of Mike in school uniform, thinking that he looked much the same, only older. Hearing him come into the room, she quickly replaced it.

‘We can sit and relax for a bit,' he said, placing the tray on a side table by the sofa. As she sat beside him and drank her tea, Jenny couldn't imagine why he would be pleased that she wasn't like Dido. She sniffed, ‘I can smell burning.'

Mike leapt up smiling. ‘Oh God, I put the iron on it to dry it quicker. See what you've done to me?' He laughed as he rushed from the room, ‘Made me forget about everything else.'

He shouted down the stairs, ‘There's a large scorch mark now as well as a stain. I'll have to throw it out otherwise it will be the Spanish Inquisition.'

A key turned in the lock. Jenny's hand trembled as she placed her cup and saucer on the tray.

‘We're back,' a woman's voice called out. There was shuffling in the hall and a smartly dressed man strode into the lounge. A shorter fair-haired woman followed. She held out her hand.

‘Hello, you must be Jenny. Michael mentioned that you might call round. My goodness, he's made you some tea? That's a first. Where is Michael?'

‘He's just popped upstairs,' said Jenny, her voice wavering. She wished she hadn't said ‘popped', it sounded so unsophisticated.

They seated themselves opposite Jenny in two armchairs. Mike's father's legs stretched out until they almost touched her own. He picked up a pipe and a leather pouch from the side table, and started to stuff his pipe with tobacco. Jenny though he looked like an older version of Mike. ‘So, are you at college, Jenny?'

He even sounds like him,
she thought incredulously. ‘No, I work with Dido. Mike – Michael said that you know her.'

‘Yes, we've known her since she was a baby, lovely family. She did two years at Clark's secretarial college; always useful for a girl. Are you a secretary too?'

‘No, I do clerical work – family allowance applications,' Jenny said, but added, thinking that it showed ambition, ‘I hope to take the exam for a higher grade soon.'

‘Good for you.' He leant back in his chair.

‘Do you live near here Jenny?' His mother smiled.

‘No, not really, I live up near the windmill.'

‘Oh yes, I know. Mrs Jenkins lives up there, doesn't she Norman? Some of the roads up there are quite nice.' She crossed her legs.

‘Yes they are. I like it up there,' said Jenny, immediately defending her patch.

‘I expect Michael's told you that he'll be in his final year at Reading come September. We're pleased that he's finally decided to buckle down and do some work; so provided there aren't too many distractions he should get a good degree. Shouldn't he Norman?' she turned to her husband, ‘Norman?'

‘Sorry, what did you say dear?'

‘I said that Michael should get a good degree.'

‘Oh, yes… should do.'

Jenny wished he wouldn't keep staring at her jumper, and was relieved to hear Mike's footsteps on the stairs.

‘So there you are at last. I hope you're not neglecting your guest?'

‘No, of course not, Ma, don't fuss. We're just on our way out.'

‘What so soon? That's a shame. I thought we were going to have some tea together now we're back. We were just getting to know each other, weren't we Jenny?'

Jenny nodded and stood up, ‘Goodbye.'

‘It's lovely to meet you. I'm sure we'll see you again.' His mother smiled.

Not if I can help it
.
She's alright, but he makes me shiver, looking at me like that.
She followed Mike into the hall, where next to her handbag stood a brown carrier bag containing a crumpled white sheet.

*

‘I've noticed that you're looking a lot jollier lately Miss Porter,' Mr Winstanley beamed as he placed the applications on Jenny's desk. ‘I was getting quite worried about you. I like to think my staff are happy in their work.'

‘Yes, I am happier,' said Jenny.

‘Good, good. I don't know what you young people get up to these days, but sometimes I think that we had more fun when we were young; anyway, as long as you come to work with a smile on your face.'

Once he had left the room Dido leaned across her typewriter. ‘Did you hear that? Mr Winstanley had fun. Can you imagine him doing the Charleston and wearing Oxford Bags?'

‘No, it takes some believing,' Jenny giggled.

‘I know why you're happier lately. It's because of Mike. You've been seeing a lot of him now he's back, haven't you? In fact I think you've seen rather more of Mike than you're letting on.'

Jenny blushed and picked the first application from the top of the pile.

‘I knew it, well, well, well. Welcome to the club? Is it good?'

‘Yes, I suppose so.'

‘You suppose so. Don't you know?'

Jenny thought back over the past two weeks. She had been seeing Mike twice during the week and on Saturday evenings. He would borrow his father's Morris Traveller and call for her after dinner. At the sound of the car's horn Charlie would go over to the window, lift the net curtain and tut, ‘Here he is again; ‘bout time he got a job like everybody else. He wouldn't have so much time on his hands then.'

‘Why don't you ask him up?' Alice would say.

‘There isn't time.'

‘But he's here three times a week.'

‘I'm off, I'll see you later.'

In the remaining daylight they would drive up onto the Downs, and walk along the chalk paths overlooking the Weald. The house-martins advertised their return by swooping and diving on unsuspecting insects. When the lights in the cottages below flickered into life, they would return to the car, clamber into the back seat and, covering themselves with Mike's duffle coat, make love. Jenny enjoyed the closeness it brought, but couldn't relax. It was uncomfortable, squashed against the misted side window. She half expected a policeman to rattle the door handle. One evening a large dog leapt up and started clawing at the glass, barking furiously in Jenny's flattened ear. Afterwards Mike would ask her if she had enjoyed it. She always said yes.

*

‘By the way, I've asked Nick if we can meet at his parent's house next week. They're away on holiday,' Mike said one evening as they adjusted their clothing.

‘A warm and comfortable room; now that would be something,' Jenny smiled and squeezed his hand.

‘Well we've got to make the most of our time together before I go back. There's a debate at the student's union next term. The motion is, “Should there be equal pay for women?” I've been elected to find a speaker.'

‘I think they should if they're doing exactly the same job.'

‘The problem is though, that men might be paid less, and they have families to support.'

‘But a woman might have a family too. Suppose she's a widow, or divorced. She may even be single.'

‘Usually their families support them, don't they?'

‘Not always; what about the men who don't marry and have a family,' she said thinking of Mr Winstanley. ‘Why should they be paid more than a woman for doing the same job?'

*

The following week, Mike collected Jenny as usual, but drove back to a road parallel to his own. Jenny remembered the New Year's party, and could have sworn Nick's house was larger than it looked now. Nick opened two beers, one for Mike and himself, and then mixed a gin and orange for Jenny from the cluster of bottles that stood on a silver tray on the sideboard.

‘We've got to support the Civil Rights Movement,' Nick said as he stood by the mantelpiece and pushed his black-framed glasses up over the bridge of his nose. ‘We can't stand by and do nothing while coloured people are banned from travelling on the same buses, or going to the same schools as whites. People make a fuss about apartheid in South Africa, but look at the States – our closest ally. They're just as bad, if not worse.'

‘I agree, there was a lynching in Alabama last week. They said he didn't even get a fair trial; guilty just because of the colour of his skin,' Mike said.

‘I hope you two are going to join me on the CND march from Aldermaston this weekend?'

‘Not this weekend, Nick. I'm going back. I'll come next time though.'

‘You owe me, who's leaving the warmth and comfort of his fireside, so you two love-birds can be alone?'

‘I'd do the same for you. You've only got to say the word.'

‘I've got to find the girl first.' Nick grinned at Jenny. ‘Well I'm off to the pub now. I'll ring the bell when I get back, so make sure you're not
indelecto flagrento
. I draw the line at voyeurism.'

‘Two whole hours to ourselves, with drinks thrown in; what more could we ask for?' Jenny said, pulling Mike towards her, as the front door slammed.

Mike laughed and pushed her back onto the sofa, his hand already on her thigh.

*

‘How am I going to manage without you, Jenny-wren?' Mike drew deeply on a post-coital cigarette. ‘I'll pour us another drink. Nick won't mind. Have a drag.' He kissed her and placed his cigarette between her lips.

‘I received the distinct impression that your parents would like you to.'

‘Like me to what?' he turned to her from the sideboard.

‘Manage without me.'

‘Don't take any notice of what they say. Ma can be a bit of a snob, but she's alright when you get to know her. I'm pretty sure Dad's got a woman up in town. He's always coming home late.'

That fits
, Jenny thought, trying not to look shocked. No one she knew had ever said that about their father. ‘I think you'll manage better than me.'

‘How's that?'

‘Well you'll have other distractions. What will I have once you've gone back?' Jenny imagined weeks of empty evenings alone with her parents, worrying about what Mike was doing in Reading.

‘Here you are, my lovely.' Mike handed her the glass and sat down. ‘Don't worry, we'll make up for it when I come back, I promise. It's only eight weeks. My parents are going away in July. So we've got another empty house to look forward too.'

‘Where are they going?'

‘Touring round Switzerland; they like the Alps. I went with them last year. Have you ever been abroad?'

‘Not yet. But I will. I thought I'd start with Paris.'

*

Pulling away from their embrace, Mike picked up his holdall and went through the ticket barrier.

‘Bye, bye,' Jenny shouted after him. He turned, blew her a kiss and disappeared into the train carriage. Reluctant to leave, Jenny stood and stared at the passengers hurrying along the platform. At the sound of the whistle the train drew away. He had gone. She watched the train disappear and stared at the empty tracks, then went into the station café and ordered a tea, remembering the last time she had sat there. How worried she had been. Now life was good – he loved her. Of course he had to go away, but he would be back.

*

Gail sucked what remained of her banana milkshake through a straw. ‘I was so pleased to speak to you last week. I'd phoned several times before, but the girl on your switchboard said she couldn't find you. I was starting to think you didn't want to meet up, that you were ashamed of being seen with me.'

‘No, of course not, it wasn't that,' said Jenny, almost too quickly.

‘I'm leaving at the end of the week, I'm seven months now.' Gail patted her swollen stomach and leant back on the seat. ‘Make sure you don't end up like me, I was so stupid.'

Jenny found it hard to take her eyes from her friend's belly. It was enormous. How could this be the same girl that used to laugh, dance and gossip at the club?

‘Your Mike sounds nice. No wonder you've been too busy to meet up. You make sure he's careful. You don't want to end up like me. Chris and I are going to the registry office next week when I finish work. Then I'll move in with him. He's got a bedsit near the station. I didn't want this, Jenny. I was dead set on going to teacher training college, wasn't I? I didn't want to be a typist. I never even made it to secretary. Now it's too late.' A tear trailed down her cheek. ‘I couldn't have the baby adopted though, not once I felt it move. I couldn't give it up. I know lots of girls do – but I just couldn't.'

‘No,' said Jenny softly, remembering how quickly she had suggested adoption to her friend. Would she do the same now? ‘But at least you've got Chris,' she added, thinking of her mother's probable abandonment.

‘I do worry that I'm doing the right thing in marrying Chris, but what else can I do?'

‘But he's older, he can support you. At least you're leaving home. I wish I could.'

‘Well, perhaps Mike's the one. Do you love him?'

‘Yes, I think so. I really miss him when he's not around; more now than ever.'

‘You've made some new friends at work haven't you? Do you think you'll stay there?'

‘I'm thinking of taking the Clerical Officers Exam this autumn. I don't want Mike thinking that I'm just a clerk. You know, him being at university.'

‘But you know all those capital cities. I always remember that. I thought you were so clever.'

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