62 The Sirens

Upbury Manor school playground: In those early, uncertain days when we Twydall boys stuck together each break time, we somehow attracted the attention of a bunch of girls; 2A1 girls, the second year crème de la crème with shapes and curves and things, which made their interest in us all the more baffling. The first time they swooped I instinctively shied away, though I hung around close enough to follow what was going on.

‘Aw, isn’t he cute!’

‘Hasn’t he got lovely eyes?’

‘And a sexy smile’

‘Ooh, I thay’

Blimey

Paul Parker, Clive Ward, John Greenland and Stan Slaughter responded with wobbly heads, gormless grins and gibberish. A mental paralysis, of sorts, that was astonishing to see.

Any thoughts of this being a one-off were dispelled the following day when the flirtatious females swooped again. This time I got involved and…

‘What’s your name?’

Sure enough, in telling them my name I found myself grinning like a fool.

Unlike the girls in our year, who didn’t have a tit between them, these shapely young ladies wore mini skirts and carried their books in wicker baskets, which heightened their sophistication. Together, they charmed us with their mock coyness and laughter.

As one of the girls, Pat, lived on Trafalgar Road, we escorted her home after school. We usually went home via Copenhagen Road, but Trafalgar Road served us just as well, if not better, and we quickly adapted to going Pat’s way to spend a little bit more time in her company. On one of these occasions she asked for my cap. Naturally, I was flattered and I didn’t hesitate to hand it over. Along with everyone else I laughed when she smiled and put it on. I felt sure she’d return it when we reached her home but no, she did not. She was still wearing it when she waved us goodbye at her garden gate and that left me perplexed.

Why hasn’t she given it back? She must know she’s wearing it. Perhaps she wants to keep it overnight… as a love token or something.

Back in the playground I found myself drawn to Gillian, the short dumpy one of the group, who was quickly drawn to extracting a present from me. ‘A bar of chocolate or a pair of tights,’ she said.

Tights? Bloody hell! What do I know about tights? Tights come in different sizes, colours and shapes, don’t they? How much do tights cost? And where would I get them?

Buying tights was out of the question; I knew more about algebra than I knew about tights. It’d have to be chocolate, Cadbury’s, and not a measly sixpenny bar, either. I’d impress her with a big shilling one.

Kevin Garlick might have got snared too, when Jennifer Ballard got him on her radar. She did everything she could to get near him but every time she got close, Kevin bolted, as he did when she tried sneaking up behind him.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Ivan!’ Kev shouted, as he fled.

How we laughed, and we laughed louder still when Jennifer gave chase calling ‘Ivan, come back! I just want to talk to you!’

Too late, Ivan had gone; at a speed unseen since the day we were caught scrumping in the orchard off Pump Lane.

I duly scraped up a bob and presented Gillian with a large bar of Cadbury’s, but even as I handed it over, I felt cheated. Grateful, slobbering kisses? No. Loving eyes? No. A smile and a peck on the cheek? Not even that. ‘Thanks,’ that’s what I got, like I’d just passed her the salt at the dinner table. My interest in her died on the spot.

She’s had me for a berk. Sod it! I don’t like her that much anyway. 

Being an object of affection was fun while it lasted but all good things come to an end and when the girls’ interest passed, it passed suddenly. Abandoned overnight, we Twydall boys shrugged it off and resumed being objects of little interest again, happy, once more, to spend break times kicking a ball around.

In time… I stopped worrying that my mam would question me on the whereabouts of my cap. That she never did is just as well, for the guilt I suffered for it’s disappearance was punishment enough. Pat was a serial cap thief, I learned later, when others confessed to having their caps nicked.

In time… I realised the girls had simply been testing their charms on safe and willing guinea pigs.

In time… toward the end of that school year Kevin developed a crush on Jennifer, but it was way too late. Jennifer wasn’t interested. Such is life.