Fifty Years Ago: Wednesday, 1st September 1976
(Gosforth, Age 14:11)
Mum brought the record Sailor, Trouble up. I knew it was before I got it! I was surprised that Mum bought it for me. Sailor had several boppy, iconic tunes, not least Girls, Girls, Girls, which I already had as a single, and Glass of Champagne. Girls, Girls, Girls could have been my anthem!
I stayed in bed and played it at 8:30.
Gran W rang. She called most mornings, and if we were all having a lie-in, someone had to answer the phone. Worst luck, she woke us.
I had arranged to see a film with Julie-Anne last night.
Sunray lamp.
Early lunch.
Julie-Anne was waiting. Given the film, I now think it was the ABC Haymarket. Somehow I felt she was “too young and small” for me. I was dreadful at expressing what I meant at fourteen. She’s my age. She was feminine and super attractive, with blond Scandinavian hair and blue eyes. She was a ‘Gosforth Gal’, but too ‘middle of the road’ for my developing tastes and aspirations. If truth be told, we didn’t have a lot in common. I was itching for something else and somewhere else. More eccentric, bold, maverick.
We saw The Last Snows of Spring. It may have been her idea of a romantic tearjerker. Worst luck, some people had sat just behind us. I had fancied my chances of slipping an arm around her shoulder but got cold feet at the thought of my efforts being observed from behind. Maybe they’d have encouraged me if I’d given it a go. I didn’t.
I do wonder if I was meant to make the first move.
Julie-Anne wasn’t into ‘kissing’.
We did, but it was short, tender and somewhat perfunctory. There was no lingering afterwards as other older couples did to snog their way through the credits. We left.
We went window shopping afterwards. Had it been an afternoon showing? Perhaps. She wasn’t one for staying out late.
I bought Rennie for heartburn. I was decades away from establishing that certain foods or additives didn’t agree with me and gave me indigestion. Highly processed ice creams or an orange drink bought in the interval would do it.
Back home I rang Julie-Anne.
I would have gladly been married with a girl at my side, a companion to wax lyrical about everything under the sun. I didn’t have any male friends for this kind of thing.
It was odd to be fourteen and stepping towards new experiences. Some liked to experiment more than others. I also enjoyed a bit of a snog. Just that. Nothing fancy, just mouths and lips, our eyes eagerly watching each other for a response. Teasing, flirting — being teenagers.
Especially as just seeing a girl, let alone holding her hand, would be off limits for the forthcoming duration of the Autumn term back at an all-male boarding school.
I watched TV – the final cop out before bed. Curtains closed. Nod off to a late night film and be woken by the end of broadcast transmissions before midnight.
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