"That was Maggie B. She rang to tell me my picture is in The Argus today."
She went on, "It was when I was May Queen back in 1959. Something to do with the 30th Brighton Scouts."
And that, she claimed, was all she could remember about the occasion when the local paper first published her picture. Do I need to tell you that I rushed round to our nearest newsagent's shop, despite having been banned from the premises (but that's another story), and bought a copy of the paper? And there it was, the picture of the Old Bat - on the nostalgia page. (Where else?) "Does anyone know this smiling May Queen?" asked the paper. The Old Bat is adamant that her name should not be divulged so I have not rung the paper. I had hoped the picture would be on their web site but so far it has not appeared so I have scanned it.
Seeing the picture, which dates from before I first met the Old Bat, reminded me of those early days in our relationship.
We met in the banking hall of a branch of Midland Bank. The Old Bat - but she was still a Young Bat then - and I both worked for Barclays Bank but at different branches. In those days, junior members of the staff of banks within a small area met every morning to exchange cheques drawn on those other bank branches that had been paid in by account holders; it was called local clearing. It so happened that the branches at which we two were employed were close together and formed part of the same local clearing group. I was immediately stricken by this attractive young lady but I was shy and, in any case, already had a steady girl friend. The Young Bat didn't appear on local clearing very often but I eventually plucked up enough courage to suggest we met for a coffee after work. I was, frankly, rather surprised when she agreed. Somehow, things just didn't progress from that cup of coffee and, in any case, the Young Bat appeared even less often on the local clearing.
I was transferred to another branch some miles out of town but that girl was always lurking at the back of my mind, even though many folks rather assumed that in the fullness of time, my then girl friend and I would marry.
It was approaching Christmas and a friend of mine announced that he would be hosting a party. My girl friend was in training as a nurse and already knew that she would be on duty on the day of the party. I wanted to go but it would have been bad for my reputation, my street cred, to turn up without a girl. Was it possible, I wondered, that the very attractive girl from that other branch of the bank would come with me? I didn't know if she was still at that other branch but I did at least know her name. After several days during which I picked up the phone numerous times only to put it down before making the call, I eventually told myself that faint heart etc. She remembered me - and she agreed to come! I don't suppose my work for the rest of that day was exactly the best, but so what? She had agreed to come!
The party was at Rod's house, which was in the same part of town as mine; the Young Bat, on the other hand, lived two buses away, a journey of about three-quarters of an hour. She suggested that she should catch a bus to a spot she would easily recognise and I could meet her there rather than have me travel all the way to her house. So it was that, although I knew in which road she lived - which just happens to be one of the longest in the city - I didn't know her exact address. But that didn't seem very important - at the time.
We left the party in time to catch the last bus out of Hangleton but too late for the bus that would pass the Young Bat's house. This meant the last three-quarters of a mile would be on foot - uphill all the way. By then it was bitterly cold and I was being led along streets I didn't even know existed when the Young Bat suddenly fell to the ground in a faint. So now I had a girl lying on the ground in a faint, I didn't know where she lived, and I didn't know where I was anyway! It was late and there was nobody around, but one house - just one - was showing a light at an upstairs window. I managed to get the girl onto her feet and half carried her to that lighted house. The lady who eventually answered the door took pity on me - or rather, on my companion - and allowed us in so that she could warm up and come round enough to tell me where she lived. It turned out that we had only another couple of hundred yards to go. Her mother was still up waiting for her when we got there - but what a way to meet your new girl's mother for the first time!
2 comments:
Another well told tale.
What a charming story! Your better half is a beauty, too. But you know that.
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