The Youth Fellowship discussion group was run by a gentle bald man called Mr Golden, who welcomed me warmly.
Mr Golden based his talk on stars, and told us about horoscopes etc. Afterwards I had to give my name and address to Michael Young to be put on the register. Chris pipes up 'Why not give him your vital statistics as well?' and M.Y. and I promptly blush scarlet. When we got outside the Church we saw Johnny Wilkins smoking a pipe! I couldn't believe my eyes as he is only about sixteen. He looked so funny, puffing away self consciously. We now call him Sherlock Holmes amongst ourselves.
I settled into going to Youth Fellowship every Sunday. I don't think I ever contributed to any discussion. I was far too shy, though I was Miss Gabby Gossip with Chris.
Sunday 17 January
Before the service everyone natters away to each other, and Chris and I were engrossed in conversation. We suddenly realised that Viv was nudging us and that everyone was staring at us. Poor Mr Golden had been trying to begin the service and had said 'Shall we commence by singing . . .' whereupon Chris had said (in reply to me) 'No!' Everybody burst out laughing and a boy called out 'Big Brother has his eye on you.'
The next day I wrote:
When I got home after Y.F. Mum asked me which boy I liked best. Little does she know it's John Wilkins! At school Sue told Chris I liked him but Chris has sworn faithfully not to tell him.
I liked John Wilkins the pipe smoker?! But not for long.
Wednesday 20 January
I can't imagine loving a man, not now. Of course I get crushes on boys, but that's not proper love. In Biology Chris told me that she thought J.W. liked Gloria Hastings. That has rather put me off him.
The next Saturday there was a special Youth Fellowship Tramps Party. I've inked red and blue stars at the top of the page. This was clearly a magical occasion for me, though reading my diary entry now, it sounds so touchingly soppy.
Saturday 23 January
Met Chris in New Malden at 10 o'clock. We went round the shops and bought some loaves and marge for the church 'Tramps Party' in the afternoon. We dropped them off in the Church hall and then went back to Christine's. After lunch Jan, Val, Chris and I sat at the table doing our homework. At 5.30 Chris and I changed into old slacks and sweaters and then went out and met Carol, Lyndsay, Viv and Rosemary. Then we nervously went into the hall and sat on a table together. We were soon jiving with each other. Then Mr G came and the party began. It was lovely! We played some gorgeous games and it was all such fun! We played a sort of Pass the Parcel only there were forfeits like find the boy who is the most ticklish, or find the girl with the smallest waist. This boy measured mine and said I was 21 inches and I couldn't possibly have been as I am 24–25 inches. There was also a husband and wife game in the dark! But one game you had to sit on the boys' laps. Ken said, 'Oh, this is better,' and put his arms round me! I think he's smashing!!!
I went very eagerly to Youth Fellowship the next day.
Sunday 24 January
Went to Y.F. in the afternoon. Carol went too, and seemed to enjoy herself. I sat next to Michael Young. When we stood up to sing Ronnie put a hymn book on my chair and I sat down straight on it. Isn't he a beast! Ken said, 'Excuse me, Jacqueline.' Oh well, I'm getting on!
Monday 25 January
Today Chris has done nothing but talk and think of Peter Lock, the boy who she danced with on Sat. and I have done nothing but talk and think of Ken. I think he is wonderful, and very good looking in his own way. He is about 16 or 17 and goes to work. He lives in New Malden. He has a little sister Geraldine who goes to Brownies and his father is a Cub master. Ken has a fair sort of long crew cut and lovely eyes. I gleaned this information from Chris about his age and family etc., the rest I observed. I only wish he had been my husband in the game on Sat. because lots of the others were kissing!
Thursday 28 January
We had another Maths theorem test, worst luck. I still think of Ken an awful lot. Chris has told me that Glenda told her in strictest confidence, mind you, that he smoked a lot. I don't care!
Friday 29 January
Saw Glenda at dinner time and casually mentioned Ken. It was obvious she hates him, but she said he didn't drink or anything, just smoked. What's wrong with a boy of seventeen or so that smokes?
Sunday 31 January
After roast dinner dashed off to Y.F. It was terribly hot in that little room, and I almost fell asleep, except that I was so intent on trying to screw my head round and look at Ken. We had to discuss some questions Mr Golden gave us. I had to be in that horrible S— boy's group. Ugh, I think he's awful. So overbearing, aggressive, almost fatherly!
Monday 1 February
You'll never ever guess who I saw by Norbiton station. Ken! I almost fell over with surprise! He was riding a bike and wearing blue jeans. I could recognise that fair crew cut anywhere. I don't think he saw me. Next Sunday I'm going to ask him if it was him. I hope he'll tell me where he works. I only hope he hasn't got a girlfriend. I know he used to like Anne Wilkins, Johnny's sister, but I don't think he does any more.
Tuesday 2 February
Saw him again this morning. He looked at me as if he recognised me this time. Next Sunday looms ahead! I have a shocking cold, but I don't feel a bit depressed. I feel very happy, and you can guess why!
Wednesday 3 February
I went down the hill and saw Ken. Oh, you'll never guess where I saw him go! Kingston Hill Motor Works. Bang next door, almost! I'm ever so excited about that!
Thursday 4 February
Saw my Ken again this morning. Sue can't understand what I see in him as he isn't really handsome. I don't know myself what it is, except that I like him so much.
Friday 5 February
Saw him again. It is wonderful being able to see him every day. It makes the day start off right, and puts me in a good mood straight away.
Sunday 7 February
Woke up early this morning. I put the light on, did my hair, and then settled down to homework. Oh how I HATE it. It rules my life, it does really.
In the afternoon went to Y.F. Us girls were the first there (I got a lift in Carol's car) and Mr Golden asked us to put the chairs out. We only put the girls' out. Mr G asked where the boys would sit and Chris said 'On our laps,' whereupon Mr G replied 'A good idea!' Didn't get a chance to talk to Ken as he came late and went early. We talked about newspapers; it was quite interesting. When he stood up to sing Ronnie and John put a hymn book on Brian Tiplady's chair. He sat down, and almost fell off again. It was so funny!
I was so obsessed with Ken that I thought it worth writing in my diary on 9 February: 'Saw Ken but only a glance as I went past him on the bus.' On 10 February I didn't even see him and thought this important enough to record: 'Didn't see Ken today, worst luck. Chris and Sue told me to call out hello to him next time I see him. I think I will, you know. I wonder what will happen!'
Nothing much! On 11 February: 'I didn't see Ken again but Chris told me she saw him on her way home from school, the lucky thing.'
I didn't mention him for a day or two, and then:
Sunday 14 February
At Y.F. Mr Golden suggested that we girls should make a cloth for the table. No fear! I'm hopeless at needlework. We talked about adverts this week and it was very interesting. We had to divide up into two groups and think up as many adverts as we could in 10 minutes, like 'Cadum for Madam' and 'Hey diddle diddle there's a hole in the middle'. We thought of piles including 'Goodnight, sleep tight, and don't forget to use Harpic every night'. Us girls had hysterics when Mr G started talking about 'home helps'. [Why?] Ken dashed off like last week so didn't get a chance to talk to him. But actually my interest is decidedly waning as he is rather scruffy. I'll just have to find someone else.
It didn't take me long.
Wednesday 17 February
Saw CRAIG going home. Oh, I think he is so nice but I mustn't let on to anyone.
Craig? He was a blond boy who lived in our flats. There'll be more about h
im later. Much more interestingly to me now, that diary entry continues:
Saw Mr Townsend on the 213 bus. I almost fainted! He looked ever so tanned and handsome and talked to Carol and me. Carol agreed with me that Mr Townsend looked very young. I remarked that perhaps it is only because we are older. He said that we were nearly old enough to go out to the pictures with him. He also asked if Cherry was still as noisy as ever, at which I promptly replied 'YES!!!'
Dear Mr Townsend, my favourite teacher at my primary school. I wrote a whole chapter about him in Jacky Daydream – and I was so touched when Mr Townsend wrote to me after it was published. He'd seen me on a television programme going round Latchmere, reminiscing happily about him. I was so pleased to be able to tell him just how much he meant to all of us.
I seemed to have an embarrassingly vast capacity for crushes. I went to the Adam Faith show with Carol on 21 February, the first time I'd ever been to a pop concert. It was a small gig by modern standards, on the stage of the Granada cinema, but I was bowled over:
The John Barry Seven were ever so good. You had to clap, you couldn't help it while the music pounded out, everyone was joining in the beat. I've never experienced anything like it, you don't feel at all self conscious, just madly hep. Of course Adam was wonderful. Honestly, I've never believed girls could scream so loud! Adam looked ever so handsome though!
I've stuck a photo of him on another page in my diary, with 'Adam for Always!' and 'Faith Forever' written in lurid green biro.
I still remembered Alan fondly, my first 'boyfriend' back at primary school.
Friday 26 February
Carol told me that she saw ALAN yesterday. Oh, how clear everything is now. Until she mentioned him, I didn't realise how much I still like him. Ken was just a substitute for ALAN because he reminded me a little of him (they both have fair hair, etc.). Likewise my fair Craig. Carol said ALAN had on a seaman's cap and a navy overcoat. He told me when he was ten that he was going in the Merchant Navy, but fancy him sticking to it. I expect he was home on leave.
Alan would only have been fourteen, the same age as me, but I think there was a special boy sailor entry into the Merchant Navy in those days.
Wednesday 2 March
Going home Carol and I reminisced about the old days at Latchmere.
Oh Alan.
Oh Alan, do you remember the dressing room up in the gallery where we used to go? Do you remember the purple velvet crinoline we found there that I dressed up in?
Do you remember our 'sunbathing' with Robert and Eileen, etc.?
Do you remember when I suddenly saw you looking at me, and we looked for a long time and then kissed?
Oh, I wish I was back at Latchmere.
I wasn't really in love with Alan, we'd just been children. I wasn't in love with Craig or Ken or Adam Faith. I was simply in love with the idea of being in love. I was fourteen and it was spring.
Sunday 6 March
I went to Y.F. this afternoon, wearing Mum's cream Spring coat. On the bus I noticed lots of signs that Spring is here. There were many pink apple blossom trees in full bloom. Malden bridge was being mended and the bus couldn't get through, so I had to walk part of the way, but I didn't mind. While we were singing the hymn at Y.F. John Reynolds kept on staring at me. Chris has had her hair done; it looked very nice. Mr G talked about T.V. It was very interesting, especially when he talked about a programme about teenagers.
John Reynolds now?
I did still have a mind, in spite of all the boy-madness.
Monday 7 March
We had double Art with Mrs Canter. She suggested I take O level Art in my G.C.E. At the same time she pointed out that although my 'Picture of the corner of our living room' was technically good, it was uninteresting. I couldn't agree more about it being dull, but how can one make a window, a radiator, a chair, part of a wall and part of a ceiling look thrilling? Admittedly Van Gogh did a lovely enthralling oil painting of a chair, but I am not Vincent Van Gogh, a genius at Art. For Latin homework we had one sentence 'The Romans seized the Sabine women'. How funny, because last Tuesday I saw the picture in the National Gallery 'The Rape of the Sabines'. Now I know where the word 'rape' is derived from, as the polite word 'seized' in Latin is rapio. In Drama Club I had to be three people all at once!
That shouldn't have been too much of a problem. I was used to playing three versions of myself: I was the dippy boy-mad teenager; the giggly schoolgirl; and the real me, reading and writing in my own secret world.
In Youth Fellowship on Sunday 13 March:
Johnny told us about the hike next Sat. It sounds wonderful fun; Chris says I can have lunch at her house and then – off we go. I hope it will be as fun as the Tramps Party. Ken and Robin were discussing an 'all night' hike. I heard them say 'Two tents?' and give dirty little chuckles.
Saturday 19 March
!!!!! THE HIKE !!!!!
Oh the hike was SMASHING. I went over to Chris in the morning, bought a navy duffel bag and did homework. After dinner Chris and I packed our duffel bags and met Viv. We were a bit nervous, but Viv was as matter of fact as usual. Everyone arrived at Worcester Park Station, and then – we set off! We got out at Box Hill and walked the opposite way towards Ranmore Common. We got lost, and ended up at Abinger in the evening! It was very warm and not muddy, except for one place where it was just a sea of mud. I took a huge step, and all at once my shoe fell off, and I was standing in the mud in my socks. John Reynolds got it for me, and got his trousers all muddy! I bet his mother cursed me! We went up this hill as steep as a mountain, covered with all brambles like a jungle, and as I scrabbled and grovelled in the earth I felt a hearty push from behind and John's voice, 'Up we go, Jacqueline!' We climbed over barbed wire, ate, and walked and walked until long past dark. Afterwards John Wilkins invited all 23 of us back to his house for coffee and biscuits. When we got there there weren't any empty chairs left, and Ken and Robin invited us to sit on their laps! I don't know which I like best now: Ken, John R or John W.
I think John R sounds a sweetie, wading into the mud to rescue my shoe! We might have stayed out after dark, but we certainly didn't stay out all night. We were all extremely well-behaved. I was rather prim and priggish at fourteen:
Monday 4 April
At dinner Janice B told us that Mr Gander [one of the French teachers] had suddenly said to them, 'Let's have a debate.' The girls in her group were approving as they were naturally willing to have a break from French. One bright spark suggested they should have a debate on 'Should boys be allowed to do what they like with girls?' Mr Gander was extremely willing. He told them that he thought virginity is an important factor in marriage, and that although he and his wife had intercourse a few times before they were married, he didn't think we ought to. He went on in this way, and then asked if there were any questions. One girl asked 'Why does a woman not have a baby every time she does it?' He told them that if you do it a certain time after a girl's period nothing would probably happen. Honestly, isn't he awful. Janice said that towards the end he got awfully het up and excited. Ugh! I'm glad I don't have him for French. Give me Mrs Coffin every day, you bet. Angela and Irene said that they'd already done it with a boy once or twice, and seemed extremely proud of the fact. They'd have laughed the other sides of their faces if anything had happened.
I saw Craig again on 19 April:
In Kingston I saw Craig who was going into Maxwells. He somehow reminded me very much of a sailor in his blue jeans and shirt, and his fair hair.
Thursday 21 April
I caught the bus home and I saw Craig. Before this week when I saw him I just thought of him like – well, an ordinary boy, but today! Wham! Now PLEASE don't think how awful I am, because I keep on saying I'm crazy about different boys. I'll explain. I like Jeremy H and John R and John W but that is all, I don't particularly like them. At the time I did like Ken a lot, but now I realise it was only to keep Chris company. I always knew I could never like him as much as she likes Peter. Now I can
understand her because I keep on thinking of Craig and wanting to talk about him every minute of the day. But don't be mistaken, Alan is still first with me, and always will be, but it's no use thinking about him as I'll probably never see him again, whereas I see Craig every day.
Sue next door used to go to the same school as Craig: 'She told me he likes Art and History best. I know he must like swimming for I often see him go out with a towel tucked under his arm.'
I was like a Mickey Mouse detective, observing, questioning, following a boy who was serenely unaware of my existence. I was still interested in a handful of Youth Fellowship boys. We went for another hike:
Saturday 30 April
I met Chris at 10 a.m., and we wandered around the shops and went to the park. After dinner we met Carol and went to Worcester Park station. Mr and Mrs Golden and their son and their dog Rory came on the hike. We went to Box Hill station again, and climbed up Box Hill. Then we walked, ditto, ditto, ditto. Luckily it was not muddy this time, in fact it was very dry. This time we had to make our way down a chalk cliff on a neighbouring hill. Rory kept on breaking loose, and J.W. in relation to Rory's lead said 'Grab his whatsit,' and K.W. said 'I beg your pardon!' Everyone swapped jokes, and on the train back there was a paper fight between one compartment and the next. Afterwards we went back to J.W.'s house and watched T.V. and had coffee. Chris and I talked a bit to B.T., J.R. and Pyjamas. J.R. called us both by our names.
Sunday 1 May
I stayed in bed this morning, and after a good read, quickly skimmed through my Latin book. It's amazing the amount I've forgotten. Still, not to worry. In the afternoon I went to Y.F. and Mr Golden talked about 'Tough Guys'. As I sat there while Mr G talked on and on I imagined Mr G in Heaven, with a little golden halo perched on his head. It got very hot in that stuffy little room, and the atmosphere seemed to press down on me. The hard little chairs are very uncomfortable and I couldn't help fidgeting; first with my handbag, crossing my legs, rocking my chair, looking at Chris and J.R., at the ceiling, at the wall. The blue of the cloth on the table, the pink of the wall, the white of the ceiling, and the grey of the boys' clothes all swam together, and I felt dizzy. Then my eyes began to water and I had to rub them. My throat was dry and parched, and I couldn't swallow, my lips felt as if they would never open again and I had to keep wetting them. Oh the blessed relief when we began the hymn!