I was 14 when I fell "in love" for the first time. Up until then I had had various crushes on popular figures; Elvis, Guy Mitchell, even a long-forgotten Scottish pop singer called Glen Mason who I idolised for about 6 months. Apart from them, my heart had only been touched by dogs and horses.
Then I met Rob who was 15, tall and well built, and had dark curly hair and nice eyes. I'd actually been aware of Rob's existence for a few years, as someone who lived in the village, but we only ever said "Hello". One warm Spring night after a dance at Church Conservative Club, though, changed all that when he asked if he could walk home with me. We walked along Blackburn Rd together until we got to my house and we stood outside and chatted for a while until my brother opened the front door and I, shy and embarrassed, said, "Bye," and scuttled into the house.
I was pleased and flattered at the attention. I recovered enough to fend off Tony's laughing comments with, "Oh we just walked home together," but I secretly hoped that wasn't the end of it.
I didn't hear from or see him for about a week. I was at Paddock House, an all girls school and a convent to boot, and he was at an Accrington school so our paths didn't cross. Then, one Sunday afternoon, a friend of mine called to see me. She was going out with another West End boy and she asked me to go for a walk with them and his friend - Rob. Quick as a flash I put on my one-and-only pencil skirt and my pink and white candy-stripe blouse with the stand-up collar and off we went. It probably wasn't the most sensible attire for a walk up Aspen Lane and along Stanhill Lane to Kemp Delph but I was determined to impress. It worked. By the time the sun was setting Rob and I were holding hands.
It was an idyllic early Summer with the four of us making two couples. Most days, when we weren't at school, it was warm and sunny, the evenings were long. I have memories of long walks along farm tracks, days spent at Kemp Delph swimming and sunbathing, Rob showing off his swimming prowess. If the weather wasn't so good we would go to one or other's houses and sit and talk or listen to records. Above all else, it was all so innocent. We kissed in back alleys, cuddled together in the cinema, walked with hands entwined but there was no sex or even groping. It was love and respect mingled with inexperience and shyness.
My dad got worried. His erstwhile tomboy daughter was seeing a boy. In Dad's mind that could only mean trouble so he summoned Rob to our house for an interview. We all, me Rob and Dad, sat in our front sitting room. I wouldn't say Dad asked Rob what his intentions were but the interview was almost along those lines. The upshot was that our relationship was given the "blessing", though Rob was left in no doubt as to what would happen to him if I were "defiled" in any way.
The Summer holidays started and my 3 friends all left school. They were all 15, which was the National School Leaving Age. I was still only 14 but I couldn't leave school until I was 16 anyway as I was at a Grammar School and would take O Levels. My friends all got jobs and would start work at the end of August when I would go back to school. We didn't have a family holiday that year but in the 3rd week of the school holidays I went off to stay with family friends on the Wirral. I said a tender goodbye to Rob who was going to Wales for the week.
I'd only been staying with the Barnses in Bromborough for 3 days when I met a boy called John. There was no romance, we just got along well (his near-scouse accent amused me), and I saw him every day until I got home. He showed me where the otters played under a bridge and we walked in the woods. It was all new and different.
Once back home I realised something had happened to me. I thought of Rob and my heart didn't leap any more. Suddenly, I didn't want to be with him and I am so ashamed of what I did next. I was cruel and stupid.
I was going to the pictures with my friend and we sat on the top deck of the Ribble bus where it waited in Spread Eagle St.
Rob had saved all his money from his paper round to buy me a present from Wales and he had bought me a ring. It had probably come from Woolworths but that doesn't matter. He had been calling at my house for days but I wouldn't see him and, now, he stood, astride his bike, next to the bus and asked my friend to give me the ring. She brought it to me and I opened the window and threw it, box and all, down to Rob. The bus set off and I left him standing there with tears in his eyes.
I didn't see him again, to speak to, for another 4 years. By then his dad had died and he had the family's car. He was filling the petrol tank, one day, at the petrol station opposite our house and I was in the front garden. I saw him and, despite misgivings, I went across the road to speak to him and say I was sorry about his dad. He was friendly and seemed to have forgiven me and we smiled like grown-ups who had forgotten our childish passion and parted on good terms. I have never seen him since.
I got married the following year and, I believe, so did he. I have never forgotten him, though, and I have never forgiven myself for the way I treated him. He was a nice lad and he didn't deserve it. I'd like to meet him again, now we're both OAPs, to apologise.
I'm not sure my dad ever really forgave me for not continuing with the relationship he'd agonised so much about. He never interviewed another boyfriend of mine.
Then I met Rob who was 15, tall and well built, and had dark curly hair and nice eyes. I'd actually been aware of Rob's existence for a few years, as someone who lived in the village, but we only ever said "Hello". One warm Spring night after a dance at Church Conservative Club, though, changed all that when he asked if he could walk home with me. We walked along Blackburn Rd together until we got to my house and we stood outside and chatted for a while until my brother opened the front door and I, shy and embarrassed, said, "Bye," and scuttled into the house.
I was pleased and flattered at the attention. I recovered enough to fend off Tony's laughing comments with, "Oh we just walked home together," but I secretly hoped that wasn't the end of it.
I didn't hear from or see him for about a week. I was at Paddock House, an all girls school and a convent to boot, and he was at an Accrington school so our paths didn't cross. Then, one Sunday afternoon, a friend of mine called to see me. She was going out with another West End boy and she asked me to go for a walk with them and his friend - Rob. Quick as a flash I put on my one-and-only pencil skirt and my pink and white candy-stripe blouse with the stand-up collar and off we went. It probably wasn't the most sensible attire for a walk up Aspen Lane and along Stanhill Lane to Kemp Delph but I was determined to impress. It worked. By the time the sun was setting Rob and I were holding hands.
It was an idyllic early Summer with the four of us making two couples. Most days, when we weren't at school, it was warm and sunny, the evenings were long. I have memories of long walks along farm tracks, days spent at Kemp Delph swimming and sunbathing, Rob showing off his swimming prowess. If the weather wasn't so good we would go to one or other's houses and sit and talk or listen to records. Above all else, it was all so innocent. We kissed in back alleys, cuddled together in the cinema, walked with hands entwined but there was no sex or even groping. It was love and respect mingled with inexperience and shyness.
My dad got worried. His erstwhile tomboy daughter was seeing a boy. In Dad's mind that could only mean trouble so he summoned Rob to our house for an interview. We all, me Rob and Dad, sat in our front sitting room. I wouldn't say Dad asked Rob what his intentions were but the interview was almost along those lines. The upshot was that our relationship was given the "blessing", though Rob was left in no doubt as to what would happen to him if I were "defiled" in any way.
The Summer holidays started and my 3 friends all left school. They were all 15, which was the National School Leaving Age. I was still only 14 but I couldn't leave school until I was 16 anyway as I was at a Grammar School and would take O Levels. My friends all got jobs and would start work at the end of August when I would go back to school. We didn't have a family holiday that year but in the 3rd week of the school holidays I went off to stay with family friends on the Wirral. I said a tender goodbye to Rob who was going to Wales for the week.
I'd only been staying with the Barnses in Bromborough for 3 days when I met a boy called John. There was no romance, we just got along well (his near-scouse accent amused me), and I saw him every day until I got home. He showed me where the otters played under a bridge and we walked in the woods. It was all new and different.
Once back home I realised something had happened to me. I thought of Rob and my heart didn't leap any more. Suddenly, I didn't want to be with him and I am so ashamed of what I did next. I was cruel and stupid.
I was going to the pictures with my friend and we sat on the top deck of the Ribble bus where it waited in Spread Eagle St.
Rob had saved all his money from his paper round to buy me a present from Wales and he had bought me a ring. It had probably come from Woolworths but that doesn't matter. He had been calling at my house for days but I wouldn't see him and, now, he stood, astride his bike, next to the bus and asked my friend to give me the ring. She brought it to me and I opened the window and threw it, box and all, down to Rob. The bus set off and I left him standing there with tears in his eyes.
I didn't see him again, to speak to, for another 4 years. By then his dad had died and he had the family's car. He was filling the petrol tank, one day, at the petrol station opposite our house and I was in the front garden. I saw him and, despite misgivings, I went across the road to speak to him and say I was sorry about his dad. He was friendly and seemed to have forgiven me and we smiled like grown-ups who had forgotten our childish passion and parted on good terms. I have never seen him since.
I got married the following year and, I believe, so did he. I have never forgotten him, though, and I have never forgiven myself for the way I treated him. He was a nice lad and he didn't deserve it. I'd like to meet him again, now we're both OAPs, to apologise.
I'm not sure my dad ever really forgave me for not continuing with the relationship he'd agonised so much about. He never interviewed another boyfriend of mine.
