Tuesday, 2nd November 1976
(Gosforth, Newcastle upon Tyne — Half-term holiday from Winder House, Sedbergh School. Age 15.)
I went into town at 9:30.
I usually followed a familiar route through Newcastle, starting where I got off the bus at Haymarket: Eldon Square, Marcus Price, Windows for records and sheet music, Handyside Arcade and Thornes, the university bookshop and art suppliers. Fenwick’s toy department had once been part of this itinerary, as had been the Model Shop. I’d go down to the LD Mountain Centre on Dean Street for ski gear.
I liked wandering around these shops. There were records to look at, books, magazines and art materials. I’d been into Newcastle several times during half-term, buying records and exploring the new Eldon Square shopping centre. I could spend hours doing this.
I got Car Review 1977, though I wondered whether I had bought it for Rick. I was never much of a car person. My brother was more interested in that sort of thing, particularly anything mechanical.
I also got two PG Tips Monkey Posters, featuring the comical antics and favourite phrases from the famous PG Tips tea adverts. I intended to stick them up at home.
Then there was the Telegraph Star Chart. I had a passing interest in astronomy, at least enough to want to identify some of the constellations and planets. I cut out the centre of the chart and put it in an adequate frame.
We used cheap plastic clip frames, like display boards with Perspex over the picture. I probably bought one from Thornes. Mum was an art teacher and got a 10% discount there, so we always presented her card when buying art materials.
I recorded S May for Rick.
I couldn’t now make sense of what S May meant. I wondered whether it might have had something to do with a sixth former at Winder who made a mix tape of songs doing the rounds at school. I knew I’d bought a cassette from him, or perhaps swapped it for a record. I made a cassette-to-cassette copy.
Rick liked it. His taste was more towards macho metal and rock, though he also listened to the Eagles, Justin Hayward, Chicago and Boston. We had some musical interests in common, but we each had our favourites.
I went round to Julie-Anne’s at 4:00.
I saw her out of school, which may have meant meeting her at the gates of her girls’ school. Was this a first? I couldn’t remember doing it before. There was something rather exciting about waiting outside a girls’ school, though it was potentially a dangerous practice in my current mood with Julie-Anne. My eye couldn’t help being attracted to other girls. My younger sister and her friends were around somewhere too.
Julie-Anne and I had been going out since the previous December, although being away at Sedbergh meant that much of our relationship consisted of letters and the occasional telephone call. We saw each other properly during the holidays.
We had already spent a long afternoon together at the beginning of half-term, sitting in the corner of her sitting room, listening to David Soul and Rod Stewart, chatting and snuggling up together. On another occasion, we had met for coffee in Newcastle. I’d begun to find that we didn’t have a great deal to say to each other.
I thought she was boring, but perhaps I was the boring one.
Why didn’t we play badminton or go for a swim? Why did we always seem to end up sitting around? Sometimes I played those aptly named board games. I hoped we hadn’t spent afternoons in their front room doing jigsaw puzzles!
Julie-Anne was sweet and genteel. That was how she was. She hadn’t done anything wrong. I was the one who was restless.
We watched a bit of television. It could only have been children’s television at that time on a weekday afternoon. I couldn’t remember what we watched.
I said goodbye without a kiss.
I didn’t seek the opportunity.
I wrote in my diary that I didn’t think she deserved it!
What an extraordinary thing to say. She had just been the sweet and genteel Julie-Anne, and I was the one dissatisfied with things. Perhaps my criticism of her was just as much a judgement of myself.
I was getting tired of sitting around, watching television and trying to think of things to talk about. I wanted something more, though I couldn’t necessarily have said what. I wanted to do things together, not just sit in a front room.
It felt like time to move on.
I didn’t want to do genteel, middle-of-the-road, suburban Gosforth.
Yet Julie-Anne and I had been together for nearly a year, and she had always been affectionate in her letters. She was attractive, kind and good company in her own way. It wasn’t her fault that I wanted something different.
I had a good meal that evening.
It was our last supper before going back to school, typically steak and chips. There was something to be said for a decent meal at home before returning to Winder House and school food.
I wore an illegal jumper, boots and trousers for school.
What a rebel!
The coach took us from Melton Park in Gosforth to the Library Car Park in Sedbergh. It was the same private coach that had brought us home for half-term, carrying boys back to their boarding houses after a few days away.
It seemed rather sad that wearing a few non-regulation items on the coach made me feel like a rebel. A jumper, boots and trousers — hardly a great act of defiance.
But at Sedbergh, where there were regulations about almost everything, even that counted for something.
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