Читать книгу Class of '79 - Chris Rooke - Страница 25

I was struggling. I was now in my third set of digs in as many months, and I was basically very lonely. I now had a room on my own, which in some ways was great, but in other ways was bad as I felt isolated, with little contact with any other students, and I couldn’t really see a way of meeting people or making friends.

The other students on my course were very friendly, but we just had little chats at break times etc. - we hardly ever went out socially, and although I went to see bands and so forth at the Students’ Union, going on your own to such events was actually more lonely than staying at home, as everyone else was having a laugh and enjoying themselves, while I stood quietly somewhere and watched everyone else having fun.

I tried to join the Hockey club, which was a complete disaster, (I went once, but was never invited back), and similarly I tried to join the sailing club, with almost identical results (I went to beginners’ sailing club every Wednesday for 3 weeks in a row, and each week it was cancelled due to strong winds). I even tried to enlist in the Air Cadets, remembering my passion for the Air Training Corps I’d had in younger years, but at the signing-up meeting, the officers took one look at me in my trench coat with long hair, and suggested that perhaps this wasn’t the right group for me. (Oh, things could have turned out so differently!)

I finally made a couple of friends who were on a different course, who had a flat together, and we had a lot in common. I can’t tell you how much it meant to actually have a couple of people to talk to! The problem was that I was so desperate for some company, I knew that I was in danger of going round to their flat too often and wearing out my welcome. It was a bit like being a love-struck teenager who obsesses over a new girlfriend and ends up smothering her with their attentions. And indeed, my fears were realised when I went round to see them one Sunday morning – Sunday mornings being one of the loneliest times. I went in and instead of a normal greeting, they both asked separately: ‘So, what have you come round for then?’ in a polite but clear message that I had exceeded my allocation of visits and they were tired of seeing me. They had clearly been talking about me and had both agreed that my presence was just a bit too regular. I was mortified with embarrassment, mumbled an excuse and left, never to return. My loneliness deepened.

My friends' flat that I so longed to be part of!

At about the same time my coat was stolen. My dad never bought me anything that wasn’t either for my birthday or Christmas, but one day, shortly before I was due to leave for Portsmouth, I bumped into him in town. I explained that I was there looking to buy a coat and he insisted on finding me a really good quality overcoat and buying it for me. It really was a nice coat – it fitted well, it suited me and it kept me warm and dry. Not only that but because my dad had bought it for me it was rather special.

Sometime in the Autumn term I went to a party at someone’s house one night and wore my coat as it was raining heavily. The party turned out to be the usual disaster, and after staying a short while I returned to the bedroom where everyone’s coats had been left, and of course mine was missing. Clearly because it was still raining hard some lowlife had taken it upon themselves to help themselves to my brand new coat!

I was very annoyed with the unknown person, and with myself for having left my valuable coat in such a vulnerable place. I walked home in the rain, getting soaked and feeling totally miserable. I never did get over the theft of that coat – such a simple thing, but one that meant a lot to me. Things in Portsmouth weren’t going to plan.