Читать книгу Street Kid Fights On: She thought the nightmare was over - Judy Westwater - Страница 8

Speedy had never said that I shouldn’t go out on the town after hours – we’d never discussed it – but still, it felt mischievous. This would be my first time out in Manchester at night. On the Saturday of the dance, Roger borrowed a long ladder to get me out of the locked compound, as if I was escaping from prison. We arranged to meet at the wall beside the horseboxes at nine o’clock.

‘You there, Judy?’ he called over.

‘Yeah.’

I heard him position the ladder against the wall and a few seconds later his face appeared at the top. Then he hauled himself up to a sitting position, pulled the ladder over and motioned for me to climb up towards him. ‘I’m a right minx now,’ I thought to myself, looking over my shoulder as if someone might be watching. But there was nobody there. I launched myself at the ladder, thinking, ‘This is going to be a laugh.’

I scaled the wall and sat on top next to him.

‘Nice up here,’ he said and climbed down the other side ahead of me.

We hid the ladder in the scrubland like escapees and headed off to the Belle Vue Ballroom.

It was dark by the time we arrived and the dance hall was very busy. Everyone seemed so glamorous and in-the-know. I’d worn my only dress – a red and white check with scoop neck and a wide, red belt – and I had my hair tied back. Some of the women looked amazing with sparkling jewellery, high heels and beautiful make-up. I caught a whiff of perfume as they passed. Roger had dressed up too. He looked really smart in his shirt and trousers.

‘Come on,’ he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor.

The band was playing the Twist and everyone was dancing full pelt, gyrating like crazy. We flung ourselves into the crowd and joined in. It was fantastic. I loved dancing like that, losing myself in the music without any of my normal self-consciousness. As a kid I had always loved classical music but the Twist was fun and it was an amazing feeling to be part of the crowd with everyone dancing together. Because of the way I’d grown up I always felt separate to other people as if I was a different species entirely. Dancing like this was an incredible experience for me because it was something normal that I could join in and feel part of.

Up at the bar there was so much to look at – the rows of bottles and the waiters with their bow ties and all the people, chattering and excited and dressed up. Roger got me a tomato juice then we leaned against the bar and talked for ages. He told me he had lived in Manchester all his life and came from a big, close family – the eldest of ten kids. I lapped up his stories of an idyllic childhood playing in the street and going to the local school. Then he started talking about motorbikes. Like lots of young guys, Roger was fascinated by bikes. He was a great stunt rider though he said what he really liked best was driving on the open road. Fast.

‘I like it when we’re touring in the bus,’ I told him. ‘I sit on the steps and watch the road whiz past.’

‘Yeah,’ he said ‘that’s it exactly. Open to the road.’ He finished his pint.

‘Come on, Judy,’ he said. ‘Let’s get back to the floor.’

I couldn’t wait and eagerly followed him so we could join the crowd once more. It wasn’t long before we were pink-cheeked and out of breath with the best of them. It was exhilarating, a real high for me.

Walking away from the ballroom at the end of the night Roger lit a cigarette. The stars were out. I hummed a couple of the dance tunes and he caught my hand and twirled me round.

‘That was amazing!’ I exclaimed.

Roger took a deep draw of his cigarette and regarded me closely. ‘You’re all right, Judy,’ he said.

We ran the last hundred yards or so and grabbed the ladder from its hiding place, propping it up against the wall. I had had a good time, but I wasn’t sure what to say to Roger now we were on our own. I felt slightly awkward. Relating to other people was difficult for me because I had had no role models. Now the night was over I felt slightly out of my depth.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled and scuttled up the ladder.

‘You want to pull it over? I can come up and help,’ Roger offered.

‘No. I can jump from here. It’s fine.’

He gave me a wave and walked off with the ladder over his shoulder, the glowing ember of the cigarette bobbing along beside him.

After that night at the Belle Vue Ballroom, Roger took an interest in me. Sometimes when I came off stage from an Australian Air Aces performance he’d be waiting outside the bus for me, and sometimes he helped me when I was moving the gear. Unlike Bobby, I hadn’t a clue about the rules of the game and I still thought he was just being friendly.

When Speedy announced we were touring to Southampton, Roger surprised me by going in a sulk. ‘You’ll be up to all sorts down there,’ he said gloomily.

‘What do you mean?’ I had no idea what he was on about, but he didn’t enlighten me – just stomped around in a mood.

He came to wave us off the night we left and said ‘Have a nice time,’ but his voice didn’t sound very cheerful.

‘If I can’t be good, I’ll definitely be careful,’ Bobby joked and Roger glowered at her. We waved at him from the window as we drove off.

I enjoyed Southampton. Vicky and I went to see the boats in the dock and watched as a huge liner came in. The shows went really well and at night I fell asleep listening to the horns of the ships on the Sound.

A week later, after a run of shows, Roger was waiting when we got back after the long drive north. He was standing in the space right beside where the bus parked and he had a face like fizz.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ he demanded. He seemed really upset.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You could have called, you know. I was worried.’

‘But you knew where I was,’ I said, astonished. It had never occurred to me to call. No-one had ever cared where I was. When I moved to Belle Vue, my mother didn’t even ask where I was going to be staying.

‘What did you do?’ Roger quizzed me.

‘You know what I did. We did the show.’

‘And after?’

‘Had something to eat. We had showers over at this house. Speedy organized it. I went for a bath two nights.’

Roger had a tortured expression on his face. ‘I bet Bobby went out.’

‘Yes.’

‘With men?’

‘Yes.’

‘But not you?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

I thought that Roger caring about where I was and what I was up to was sweet. I didn’t mind at all. I’d seen Bobby playing one guy off against another and making herself tantalizingly unavailable but that kind of thing was in a different league. I was extremely naïve. I don’t think Roger ever realized that.

‘Next tour you have to ring me every day,’ he insisted.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘If you like.’

A couple of weeks later Speedy organized a few days at Paddock Wood in Kent. We’d been there before and I liked it. There was a phone box just up the road and I made sure I had lots of change so I could call Roger. When I rang him in the evening he quizzed me about every second of my day and sulked when I told him that Bobby had gone out with a couple of guys after the show.

‘And what did you do?’

‘Nothing.’

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Go back to the bus to bed.’

He didn’t believe me. ‘You’re staying in on your own?’ he asked in disbelief.

‘Yes.’

No matter how much I tried to reassure him, he never seemed satisfied and I simply felt confused. I was desperately trying to figure out what was going on. I knew he must like me. We spent a lot of time together; surely he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t enjoy my company? So why was he quizzing me like this? I concluded that he must care about me and that in some way, I was doing something wrong. ‘I must try harder to please him,’ I decided. There was something about it all that felt forbidden and dangerous. I knew I was out of my depth, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

When we got back to Belle Vue after that run, I went to find Roger. He was polishing his bike but as soon as he saw me he leapt up and pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. No one had ever hugged me that way before and my eyes welled up with tears. I could hear my heart pounding. It was a very powerful feeling, being surrounded by him and held like that. In the past if anyone had got that close to me it meant things were about to turn violent. By contrast Roger’s arms felt tender.

‘I missed you so much,’ he said and he kissed me.

My knees almost gave way and I kissed him back and put my arms around his waist. There was no room for any doubts. I felt completely engulfed. This was something very private and very beautiful.

Roger drew back. ‘I’m glad you’re home,’ he said with a grin and I couldn’t stop smiling either.

A few minutes later I was watching the show from the sidelines. Roger was practically fearless and very, very accurate. You had to admire his riding skills. When the show had finished and the audience were clapping, he looked over to me and he winked. I had never felt so special.

‘So is this it?’ I thought to myself. ‘Is this what everyone goes on about, what all the pop songs are written about? I suppose this must be what love is.’