Honour of the Line (7 page)

Without us realising, we couldn’t see or get enough of each other and so we began taking far greater risks, but I had the easier task, my only real worry was of Angela getting caught. The fact I couldn’t tell anyone except Georgina was quite exciting, I often used to laugh to myself when I heard the other boys talking about which girls they fancied. Most of the girls got a smutty mention here and there, but Georgina was never mentioned within earshot of me. They all knew she was special. Once I heard a couple of my best pals, another Billy and a Dave, talking about Angela’s big tits but I had to remain silent in order not to blow my cover, but inwardly I felt like giving them a good hard slap or a kick in the balls.

Meanwhile, Angela was having to tell white lies all of the time. Extra tuition, netball practice, popping round to Georgina’s house after school, she took chance after chance but somehow her parents never suspected anything. Her Dad, in particular, was far too wrapped up in his own self importance. It was hardly surprising that Angela’s sister had moved out as soon as the chance arose.

One of our biggest fears was that Angela’s Dad would question Georgina’s Dad Charlie, who was a regular in the pub. Charlie was a nurse at a large mental hospital across town and usually got semi drunk, supposedly to cope with the complications of his job. Charlie was a jolly sort of man, even without a drink inside him and I got on really well with him. He seemed to assume that Georgina and I were meant for each other but it was never to be. What might have been, who knows. Fortunately Charlie never got into deep conversations in the pub. His limitations were football and horse racing which was par for the course for the men in this part of town.

Angela and I met every Monday, Wednesday and Friday straight after school and went down to the railway hut, except the days when I had a football match. If there was a home match Angela would come along with Georgina but they only got to see the second half as the match began during last lesson because of the fading light during the winter months. Hence the damned homework, a chore I was finding increasingly difficult to fit in to my new and exciting lifestyle. I knuckled down though as my school work, however, could not suffer as it was a pre condition of my being allowed to play in both football teams. We also started going to Saturday morning flicks in the next town. We travelled on the same bus but didn’t sit together. We walked to the cinema separately and both paid 3d extra for the privilege of going upstairs in the circle, where very few kids went. Most of the kids who went to the flicks here came from our neighbouring town and although some of them knew me from football, none of them knew Angela so we assumed we were pretty safe. Our biggest dangers were adults who might accidentally drop us in it without realising. For that reason alone it was only in the cinema we had any contact and oh boy, what contact it was. We never watched a film right through. We were always kissing and cuddling until one Saturday morning, when I took my biggest risk, and put my hand up Angela’s jumper and inside her bra. She didn’t mind at all as I felt her tits for the first time. I felt so special and hoped I was the first. From that moment onwards I would get her top off whenever we went to the hut. I used to gaze at Angela in class and look at the outline of her chest through her cardigan and realised I was the one who had touched them. Most of the boys in my class would envy me if they knew but this was so special and private. Georgina had told me in the past that lots of her older brother’s friends really fancied Angela, so why she chose me, I didn’t have the faintest idea. Miss Page nabbed Angela one night as she was rushing out of school to meet me at the hut. By this time whoever was there first let themselves in and made themselves at home. On cold days it was better if the workers had used the hut as the fire was alight, but we were getting more confident and lit it for ourselves if we were feeling cold. It was so cosy and like our little home. On this particular day, I lit the fire, which was roaring by the time Angela arrived. She explained to me that Miss Page had spoken to her and asked if we were still together. Miss Page was amazed we had managed to keep things so quiet and said no members of staff had a clue and our secret was safe. She also told Angela to take care as young boys had strong desires.

Despite all of my feelings for Angela, I was still always drawn towards Woollies and I would go there if ever I had half a chance. The girl on the record counter had by now changed her hair style. It was much shorter which suited her down to the ground. It also showed her earrings which were just very plain small rings but boy did they make her look even more gorgeous. Every time I popped in, I noticed a glow in her eyes but she was a sales assistant, wasn’t that how they got customers to part with their money? After much soul searching I came to the conclusion that all I had ever spent there was the money for my record player. I couldn’t afford sweets and no matter how desperate I became I would never stoop so low as to buy their crap records. She was always so nice and friendly to me and I so wanted to find out her name but always lost my nerve. Her conversation was slowly becoming more intense but being so much younger I only really answered questions as opposed to instigating any conversation. On one occasion she asked if I had a girlfriend, she just seemed interested and I was liking her more every visit, although these were becoming sadly less frequent. Somehow she didn’t seem so concerned when Supervisors came round and they seemed to accept me being there. I mentioned to her that she was taking a chance and she said that she had told the Supervisors that I was her younger brother Peter.

Footie was going well and it made me feel extremely special that Angela and Georgina often came to watch the matches, although communication between us was rather minimal and matter of fact. Suddenly I was hoping that games would be called off. I didn’t like missing out on seeing Angela, either at the hut or Saturday morning pictures. She always came with me to County home games and stood with Miss Page, who was now becoming more of a friend than a teacher. Some games attracted really large crowds where others, such as school matches on rainy days, were watched by only a handful of spectators, mainly kids and sometimes an unfortunate parent who had lost his job. Whenever a parent showed up my first thoughts were ‘poor sod, he’s right down on his luck, please don’t end up at St Jude’s’, which incidentally now was running on a near empty tank and about to have the last rites administered. Employment was in reasonable supply if men were prepared to work for paltry wages. Bosses were beginning to get really greedy and four lads from Liverpool had somehow managed to change the World almost overnight. More families were getting cars and most were now getting televisions, including Mum and Dad. Grandad would come to our house on Friday evening after we had tea together and I had finished playing footie at the rec. He would stay with us until the box went off the air around 10 pm. I still remember the white dot slowly disappearing and the awful humming noise which sounded as though the television was about to explode.

Very few adults watched kids football unless they were a parent but I began to notice one very smart suited man making notes as he watched a County match and then a while later another slightly younger man seemed to be watching every match and making me feel very uneasy.

At one away game, the younger of these two men spent almost the entire match speaking to Mr Tindall, the games teacher. This wouldn’t be possible at home matches as Mr Tindall had to referee. I remember him being equally as bad at refereeing as those that people regularly criticise on the television today.

I told Angela and Georgina about this as I was rapidly becoming paranoid that somebody had been sent by Angela’s Dad to spy and report back to him. Or could it be a detective? I seemed to vaguely recognise the younger of the two but, for the life of me, I couldn’t think where I had seen him before.

Nothing much seemed to happen between Angela and myself until one evening after school when, for the first time, my hand ventured inside of Angela’s knickers. We were in the hut and had got carried away so much I had tried my luck and although it was nearly dark I saw her naked for the first time. We had both left in a very excited state and when I arrived at Grandad’s he said that Mum had put a note through his door telling me to return home straight away.

By this time of my life I was trusted with my own front door key and I let myself in and wandered straight into the front room where Mum and Daisy were watching the tele which was Daisy’s treat before tucking down for the night. Previously Dad had read to her but more often than not it was him who had fallen asleep and not Daisy. Mum didn’t seem at all troubled and then Dad called me into our dining room where the second man, who was always at football matches, was sitting at the table. My first thoughts were ‘oh bloody hell, surely he doesn’t know I have been in Angela’s knickers, he must have been following us for days, what excuse can I make? Mum and Dad will murder me and I am sure Angela’s Dad will do the same’! He was smartly dressed in black trousers, white shirt and a very expensive looking blue tie. His tie was very official looking, which further made me think that he was a plain clothed policeman. As soon as Dad told me who this man was I recognised where I had seen his picture before. His picture had been on one of the fag cards I had collected from bubble gum. They were still referred to as fag cards, although cigarette companies had withdrawn them many years previous. Most lads bought the bubble gum just to collect the cards and the bubble gum was nearly always thrown away without being chewed. It came to me in a flash that when I was collecting cards at around the age of 9 I had a picture of this man playing for a top football team. Had he retired from the game and joined the Police Force I wondered? He explained he was now a Manager of a team whose name I had heard of many times and knew they were not a Southern club and were based many miles from my home town. Unbeknown to me, firstly his scout and then himself had been watching me play for ages and were impressed enough to want me to join them. He asked Dad if he could take me into town to buy me a tea and Dad agreed but said I would have to pop into Grandad on the way to explain things as he might worry. This gentleman had a very luxurious car, I think it was a Jag but couldn’t really be sure. This was an adventure in itself as I had only ever been in a car once before and that was an old crate.

When I popped in to see Grandad I explained what was going on and by the look on his face you would have thought I had just been awarded my first England cap. It was obvious he was very pleased and proud. At the poshest cafe in town, the Remo, I had sausage, mushroom, egg and chips, washed down with two large mugs of tea. Budding footballers of those times didn’t really concentrate on diets as modern day sportsmen do. It was delicious and the cafe was far better and up market than anywhere I had been before. It had table cloths and napkins and we were waited on, unlike the working cafes I had been into with Dad, which were full of workers usually in filthy boots and overalls. It was proposed that as I was now in my last year of schooling I should sign a pre-contract agreement which would stop other clubs from trying to sign me. This was not the offer of a trial it was the opportunity most lads would die for. It was to be a trainee footballer.

If I agreed I would have to travel to the club during the Easter holidays, but not between Good Friday and Easter Monday as clubs played three games in four days back then. Fixture congestion was part and parcel of every single clubs end of season. The club would provide my accommodation for three nights and I would get a first hand view of how things worked. The Manager said that because I was already six foot tall and quite strong it would be his aim for me to skip the Youth Team and go straight into the Third Team with a view to being blooded into the Reserves towards the end of my first season, although I would still have to lodge with the Youth Team players. I told him it was a massive step up for me and I needed time to think so we returned home.

When we arrived home Grandad was also there and beaming with pride for me and after the Manager left we spoke for ages. Dad and Grandad thought it all sounded great but Mum wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want her little treasure going to live in a city where he could possibly be led astray. Little did she know, her little Billy was growing up a darned sight quicker than she thought!

As for me, I wasn’t so sure. I thought I would miss Angela too much and I didn’t really want to be a goalie anyway. I wanted to be a proper footballer but, alas, it was decided the best thing I could do was to sign the paper. It didn’t mean I had to go for it, it just meant nobody else could approach me. Thoughts of anyone wanting me except some kids team, stretched my emotions to the limit. I had hoped perhaps when I was older I might one day be good enough to get in the Town’s team. I always imagined myself playing home games at the Town’s ground on a Saturday afternoon with lots of people from the Arches watching. That was my real ambition for fame.

The only scoring I cared about at the moment was with Angela! She needed to be told first but the next chance I would get to say more than hello to her was nearly two days away and although I needed to share it I felt I couldn’t. It would be morally wrong. Mr Tindall called me to the Head’s office the following morning and as we walked in the Head sat there with Miss Page. It was around 8.50 am. and the whistle hadn’t yet sounded and the rest of the boys were still playing footie in the playground. Again I started to panic but to my surprise Mr Tindall and the Headmaster had known about me being watched for weeks as the Headmaster had had to give his consent. They told me it was a chance not to be missed because even if I failed to make the grade I could always return to a job similar to the working men of our area. What did I want to be? Footballer, builder, railway man, factory worker? None seemed that bad. Wasn’t it what we did …. earn money somehow? Those were the golden rules of our times. The only job I really didn’t fancy was being a coal man. I had watched Dad’s health slowly deteriorate. Firstly with a bad back caused by all the lifting and secondly coughing problems as the coal dust had got to his lungs. Added to which, it was dirty and horrible. Our house always smelt like a coal yard. I told the three of them I had signed the form and was travelling up at Easter. Miss Page and Mr Tindall left the room and the Head asked if I minded if he announced it to the school but I decided it was far too important just to spring it on Angela and I also got the impression my new found fame was ruffling a few feathers, especially amongst one or two of the older lads. Needless to say the ones it was annoying weren’t particularly good at football. On leaving the Head’s office, which was a small office at the top of some narrow stairs which overlooked both playgrounds, I was confronted by Miss Page who gave me a quick congratulatory hug and said I should be really proud. She then said “Angela and yourself can always talk things over with me. I may be your teacher but I also regard myself as your friend”. I said thanks and we walked to the class together. The whistle had gone and the boys were already in class. When the girls came into the class Angela winked as she walked by and my willy started to grow.