Читать книгу Little Ann's Field of Buttercups - Ann Jacques - Страница 12

Ben’s family seemed friendly but there was something about them that I just didn’t feel comfortable with. I believe I simply didn’t trust them. They were just too friendly, too soon. Of course, my family liked Ben. He could not do wrong in their eyes.

‘You should be grateful to be going out with such a nice young man’, I was told constantly.

Our relationship was getting to the stage where Ben was calling around to my house a great deal. He would visit on Sunday afternoons, chatting away to Mum and Stan, and would often stay for tea. It felt like Ben was always around.

After six months of seeing one another, Ben started dropping me off at my gate. I tried to keep talking so as to avoid the goodnight kiss. I was not at all keen about having a boyfriend because I knew boys liked to kiss. I felt like that’s what I was supposed to do, but I could not understand why I didn’t like the kissing. I just didn’t feel ready. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid the inevitable and as we kissed I felt Stan watching from inside the house. He wanted me out and was hoping to marry me off as soon as he possibly could. Mum was also happy about me being in a relationship. I just felt very awkward on top of feeling very cold standing outside. Finally, I would manage to get indoors to the warm fire leaving Ben to walk home. The coming home and saying goodnight at the gate became serious. His kissing was getting heavy and I really did not like it. Having a boyfriend was supposed to be a part of growing up and the other girls I knew enjoyed kissing. All I knew is that I did not. And I didn’t particularly like Ben as a person, but I thought that perhaps in time my attitude may change. I was not aware of what was to come.

As time went on I began to feel more uncomfortable with Ben and noticed he became moody and awkward. So to keep him in a pleasant mood I agreed with him on most things but I felt very confused. Incidentally, I never saw my girlfriends anymore. I missed my dancing at the Palais and my cinema nights. All Ben and I did was go to the Working Men’s Club with his friends and drink beer. I did not like Ben’s friends at all. They were loud-mouthed and whispered things about me to him. I felt hurt that Ben would never stick up for me. He just laughed along with them. I lost all of my confidence and felt very insecure. Ben and his friends all had motorbikes and on the odd nights he did not see me, he went out with them. I stayed at home feeling very lonely.

We didn’t go to Ben’s house very often. I had always tried to make excuses not to visit them, but on one occasion all the family were there and I actually had a lovely time. I felt guilty afterwards for feeling like I had in the past. It must have been my imagination. Yes, maybe they were a nice family after all.

One night shortly after this, we went back early to Ben’s house for a change instead of mine. I was looking forward to seeing his family again but they had all gone out and left a note saying, ‘Will be back later’. Much to my dismay I had no desire to be alone with Ben nor did I want to encourage him. Of course, he seized the opportunity and started kissing me. I tried to stop him by changing the subject. I talked about the photographs around the room.

‘Who is that?’ I asked, and ‘When was this one taken?’

‘What a lovely picture. Where are you in this one?’ But he was not listening. He just forced his unwanted kisses on me. I pleaded with him to stop, but to no avail. The situation got out of hand very quickly. I tried fighting him off but my efforts were useless. There was no way I could stop him...

The rest of my frightening ordeal is still a chaos of blurred memories. I’m not sure how long it really went on for but thankfully for me now it seems it was only seconds before I managed to break free. Embarrassed and distraught, I left the house without a word and walked the short distance home. Thankfully, my parents had gone to bed so there were no questions to answer. I had a bath, went to bed and cried myself to sleep. There was no way I could face him again. I stayed at home except to go to work.

A couple of months went by and I began feeling unwell, plus my period was late. I made excuses to myself but my gut was telling me something else. I searched desperately for any reason rather than the obvious one. I went off tea. It made me queasy. No, it couldn’t be! I just did not want to believe it. I denied it to myself, trying to convince myself that it did not happen. But I could deny it no longer. I was well and truly in a terrible state and I didn’t know which way to turn. I was terrified but knew I had to tell my mother. By this time I was already throwing up secretly.

All I’d ever wanted was to dance at the Palais with my friends, and go to the pictures. It was not fair, I hated Ben and I didn’t want a stupid boyfriend. I’d only kept going out with him to keep Mum and Stan happy and keep the rows at bay. I just wanted to be part of a normal family. Had they accepted my dancing at the Palais this situation would never have happened. What was so wrong with going out dancing? My own mother admitted that she went to many dances when she was young. In my eyes it was their fault, but they blamed me. They were wrong and I didn’t hold back in telling them. The rows were terrible and the blame that was directed at me became more and more unbearable.

I felt alone and miserable. Being pregnant was not how I imagined it to be. I always thought it would be a wonderful and loving experience but I was hateful towards Ben for putting me into this situation. I was certainly not mature enough for sex and I knew very little about it. It wasn’t discussed so openly in the fifties. Ben was my first boyfriend but I have no doubt he had slept with other girls before me. At his age, shouldn’t he have known better? Ben and I never talked about what had happened at that time. Our lives were now in the hands of our parents. There were only two options— marriage or a mother and baby home. I didn’t want to go to a home. Marriage seemed to be much more socially acceptable and I wanted to give my baby a name. It was now nearly the end of March and arrangements had to be made.