Forever Is Over (7 page)

Amy and I thought
“
CC
”
was an entirely appropriate nickname for
Miss Turnbury, it had travelled down from one set of schoolchildren to
the next. It was short for something very rude! Something to do with her virginal status! The first word was cobweb and the second word rhymed with blunt!

“
Yeh, can you believe it?
I
’
m screwed now.
I
’
ll never get to Joey
’
s
party. I
’
d get a taxi but I
’
ve got no money, Vomit Breath borrows, or
should I say steals, all my money for fags and booze.
”

“
Of course you can still go,
”
Amy responded in her calming tones,
sounding scarily like the fairy in Cinderella.

“
No, I can
’
t. If I get out of detention at eight, I
’
ve got to go home,
get changed and then get to Halsall. I don
’
t even know if buses go
to Halsall, there
are
only about six people, three cats, a dog and several
hundred sheep that live there.
”

“
We
’
ll wait for you.
”

“
Amy, you can
’
t do that! It starts at half seven!
“

“
Get to mine straight from detention. Let
’
s go and find your Kelly
now, I
’
ll go to yours straight from school and get some clothes for you
to wear from Kelly and take them to mine. You leg it to mine after
detention, quick change, slap on a bit of make-up and lippy, have a few
glasses of Thunderbirds with me and away we go!
”

“
What about Martin?
”

“
He doesn
’
t wear make-up and I don
’
t think he likes Thunderbirds
either!
”

“
You know what I mean! He thought he was taking us at seven not
half past eight.
Is he not going anywhere?
”

“
Martin? Are you talking about my brother, Martin? He
’
s a geek!
He just spends his evenings playing some game called
“
Elite
”
on his
computer. He
’
ll take us any time we want.
”

“
Are you sure?
”

“
Of course I
’
m sure!
”

“
And you don
’
t mind?
”

“
Jemma, I
’
m not going into Joey
’
s house alone! If I had to wait until
midnight for you, I would. You
’
re my best mate and we
’
re going to this
party together.
”

Matchmakers. Can you still buy Matchmakers these days? I
’
m not
sure if you can. They
’
ve probably ceased to exist along with Dip Dabs,
Mojos, Texan bars, Spangles and the likes. Matchmakers were long,
spindly sticks of chocolate that came in at least a couple of flavours. Mint
& Orange I think. From the day it happened to the day I die, orange
Matchmakers will alway
s remind me of Rachel Cookson.

             
Town Green was a decent sized primary school with over three
hundred children, all told. Every school year had two classes and Rachel

Cookson had never been in mine, so she pretty much escaped my
attention, until fourth year juniors.
Fourth year juniors at primary school is a great time of life, but also
an uncertain one too, its like a sunny day with a big, black cloud in the
distance. You are eleven years old and for the very first time, you are the
senior pupils, big fish in a small pond, but in the back of your mind, you know you need to make the most of it, as the following year it will all
change, everyone moves on to various Secondary schools and you revert
back from frog to tadpole, butterfly to caterpillar.

As I had grown older, my temper tantrums had lessened, then pretty
much disappeared, in school anyway and by third year juniors, I was
almost a model pupil. I still had a fixation with Everton Football Club
which would often lead to arguments and the occasional fight with the
Liverpudlians, but only in the playground. In lessons, I was well behaved
and academically bright. Thus, when we started fourth year juniors,
Mrs. Hawkins, our fourth year teacher and Deputy Headmistress,
chose me as the House Captain for Windsor. A proud moment! At
Town Green, the children were separated into four teams, named after
Royal residence, so we had Balmoral, Clarence, Sandringham and
Windsor. Every week children were given team points for good work
or model behaviour. I remember once a lad called Nick Thompson was
given a teampoint for honesty because he confessed, in assembly, to only
brushing his teeth once a day, every one else put their hands up for two
or three times! You could also lose team points for bad behaviour like
fighting in the playground over football!

Every Friday afternoon, two of the House Captains would collect
the team point books from the teachers in each class, tot up the scores
and the following Monday morning, in assembly, the House Captains
of the winning team would receive a trophy in assembly. There were
also sporting events too, where you represented your House, the boys
did football, the girls did netball and the games were played at lunchtime
so the rest of the school could watch and cheer their House on. Then,
at the end of the school year there was Sports Day. Competition was
actively encouraged and thank goodness, non-competitive events had
yet to raise their politically correct head.

I was the Male House Captain of Windsor, the female House
Captain was Rachel Cookson. We had so
me intelligent and sporty kids
in Windsor, so we pretty much cleane
d up, which meant every Monday
morning in assembly, Rachel Cookson and I would be holding a trophy
proudly aloft at the front of the assembly hall. For several months we
rarely spoke, but testosterone was spilling into my body and oestrogen
into Rachel
’
s, so every Monday morning I was confronted by her ample
breasts and the infants on the front row, who happened to look in the
wrong direction, were confronted by rather a large bulge in my short
trousers.

After Christmas, Rachel and I were beginning to say
“
Hello
”
to
each other in the playground and by Easter, I had confided in several
friends that I wanted Rachel Cookson to be my girlfriend. What you
were expected to do as
“
boyfriend and girlfriend
”
, I didn
’
t really know,
but I knew the more time I spent with her, the more time I would have
to look at her amazing chest. With hindsight, maybe I should have
just asked to take a photo of her from belly button to neck, as other
than saying
“
hello
”
, I had no idea what to say to her. I was incredibly
confident in a group of boys, but add a girl into the equation, particularly
a girl that I was attracted to, I just clammed up and went a distinct shade
of pink. Girls, as a whole, didn
’
t really know much about football,
Everton FC and the failings of Gordon Lee, our manager, but other
than that, my conversation range was pretty limited. I knew a little bit
about netball as Helen and Caroline, my sisters, had both represented
the school when they were at Town Green, but I could probably only
eek out a three minute conversation about Goal Attacks, Wing Attacks
and Goal Shooters.
Nevertheless, despite painful shyness and the inability to converse,
I did have a determined streak and decided I must ask Rachel out. I had
to ask Helen what exactly this meant as I thought you just said,

“
Will you go out with me?
”

Then the response would be a
“
Yes
”
or a
“
No
”
, but Helen informed
me you had to ask the girl out on a date and if she enjoyed it, you would
go out again and then you would be classed as
“
going out
”
. She leant me a
few magazines of hers and after a Saturday afternoon of flicking thought
these romance fests, I got the idea! I was also a shrewd cookie and seeing
as though all the dates in Helen
’
s magazines involved the cinema, the
local swimming baths or a disco, I had a mental picture of what Rachel
may look like in a swimming costume, so the
“
Disco Swim
”
at Park Pool
Swimming Baths on a Saturday afternoon (a Saturday afternoon when
Everton were away, of course!)
seemed like the ideal option.

             
So, one lunch
time, I left the rest of the boys to
“
British Bulldogs
”
and wandered over to the skipping area. I watched, mesmerised, as
Rachel Cookson skipped up and down, her breasts bouncing like a pair
of Space Hoppers, whilst the rest of the girls sang,

“
On a Mountain.

Lived a lady,

Who she is,

I do not know,

All s
he wants is,

Gold and silver,

All she wants is,

A very best friend,

So call in my very best friend,

My very best friend,

My very best friend

My very best friend

So call in,

My very best friend,

Whilst I go out to play
”
.

Then Rachel shouted,
“
Anna
”
and the pair of them skipped together
as the song started
again. Before they got through it a second time,
Rachel
’
s foot clipped the rope and she was out. My moment had arrived!
I approached her nervously. James apparently watched me from afar and
told me, that night, that I was all hunched up and he was expecting me
to start saying
“
Esmerelda
”
and
“
The Bells, The Bells!
”

I was terrified.
What would I say to her? News travels fast in primary school and I
guessed she knew I wouldn
’
t be approaching her to talk about team
points. My head was still in a bit of a spin after watching her blouse
bouncing, but somehow I kept my nerve for a brief conversation.

“
Hi Richie!
”

“
Hi Rachel
”

Her
“
Hi
”
was more enthusiastic
than mine, mine was filled with
trepidation.

“
You OK?
”

“
Yes
”
.

“
Did you want me for something?
”

“
Yes
”
.

“
What was it?
”