Читать книгу To Cap It All - Kenny Sansom - Страница 14

First, as we’ve seen, there were Rose Louise and Rose Louise – just to confuse everyone. Then, when I was a young teenager, my cousin Elaine introduced me to another Elaine – who was to become my Elaine. They were such good friends that everyone referred to them as ‘The two E’s’.

Both Elaines were lookers. They just had it – they had that special magic you can’t put your finger on and identify with clarity. It’s a feeling – an instinct – and all you know for sure is you can’t walk away from it. I suppose you could say she was a ‘bloke magnet’, but she never bothered with anyone but yours truly.

I was shorter than most of the boys, so it was very handy that my gal was 5 foot nothing. My cousin wasn’t any taller, either – so I guess we were all short arses together. Nice arses, though – theirs, that is. (Mine was a good arse as well, until it became a bit lardy and the boys on the terraces began to sing, ‘He’s fat, he’s round, he bounces on the ground – Kenny Sansom!’)

They were fabulous dancers and would spend hours indoors practising and perfecting their routines so they could wow the crowds at local discos – and wow them they did. While the girls were strutting their stuff on the dance floor, I was strutting around the football clubs and pitches of every corner of London – everywhere south of Watford. I was loving my life. I was doing what I was born to do and had all the support in the world.

Terry Venables used to have this nickname for me. He called me Miguel and said it was because every time I left training I’d say, ‘I’m off to see “me gal” now’. And Elaine was my gal, right from the very first day I set eyes on her pretty blue eyes. It took a little while until we announced we were girlfriend and boyfriend, but when it happened it came as no surprise to anyone.

We’d first met at a local youth club when I was 10 and she was a whole 9 months older than I was. But it was later, when we were both holidaying on Canvey Island at a caravan park that was practically the Sansoms’ second home, that we became an item.

I remember the day I knew I loved Elaine. She was sitting on a horse, patting his head and smiling at me. Her horse wouldn’t budge, so I told her squeeze her legs tight to the horse, and then nudge him (well, kick, really, but that sounds awful) and then he’d move on. Off she went with a jolt and a shriek, leaving me standing there smitten.

My brother David fancied her as well and he actually asked her out first, but she turned him down. I thought this left the coast clear for me, but I was wrong. She was seeing someone else, so I had to wait a while longer before she would say yes. Some years later, she would walk down the aisle and say ‘I do’ – but for now it was a case of courting and getting to know each other.

Elaine has always had more balls, as it were, than I have. I was a terrible wimp when it came to keeping her safe. Boys have always been expected to walk their girls home and ensure their safety, but it didn’t quite work out that way for us.

I would hold her hand as we walked down East Lane and Camberwell New Road, and everything was hunky-dory until we came to the last part of her journey, which involved her walking down a dark alleyway. I was scared of dark alleyways, but full of wonderful advice.

‘Now, Elaine, you make sure you walk down the middle of the alley. Keep away from the fence and gateways on your right and the brick wall on your left – you don’t want someone to jump out and attack you.’

Elaine the Brave didn’t bat an eyelid. Off she went – all 5 foot nothing of her, and I would wait at the mouth of this scary black tunnel until she made it to the other end and yelled, ‘It’s all right, Kenny, I’m safe.’ And off my lovely would go on the final leg of her journey. It’s funny how you can convince yourself you’ve been a brave soldier. ‘Watch your back, Elaine,’ I’d yell from underneath a brightly lit lamppost.

On our first real date, Elaine took me to the Wimpy Bar and bought me – guess what. Yes, a Wimpy. Well, she was older than me, had more money than I did – and I loved Wimpys.

By the time we were 16, we were dining in the Steak House at the Elephant and Castle. It was close to the cinema, so we didn’t have to walk far for dinner after we’d watched Bruce Lee as he kung-fu’d all over the screen. I took Elaine to see The Texas Chain Saw Massacre as well. No romantic films for us, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was all about being together. With hindsight, I guess it was all about me. But if she was happy doing what I wanted to do I wasn’t going to complain, was I?

We’d scoff down a three-course meal before heading off up the road to the Tin Pan Alley. Afterwards, I’d see her back to her alleyway again – and all the time I was thinking about getting up for training the next day. But I’d always ring her up when I got home to let her know I was all right.

Our young love was not without a hitch or two, though. I was dead jealous of any boy who dared to get close enough to breathe in her air. It was a terrible thing for me to be surrounded only by boys all day long at school while I knew she was in a mixed school and some boy might try to take her away from me. I complained all the time and it caused lots of rows.

We were forever breaking up and making up. Sometimes after a quarrel she would stand outside my home and throw stones at my window. My mum would call up the stairs, ‘Kenny, that little girl’s outside again.’

I’d try to act cool (I couldn’t quite pull it off, mind you) and wait a respectable amount of time before slipping outside to give her a kiss and make up. From day one we promised each other we’d always be together.

When we were 17 and had left school I was training hard and she got a job in some offices. I hated her being at work while I had free time, so I’d go to meet her whenever I could. I always got there early and waited outside on the corner of the street hoping she’d catch sight of me and leave early.

Apparently, I caused a bit of a stir, as her boss thought I was some scallywag casing the joint. ‘I think we’ve got a burglar outside,’ he said one day and was just about to call the Old Bill when Elaine jumped up to the window to try to look out. In the end she stood on a box and then she declared excitedly, ‘Oh, that’s only my Kenny. He’s not come for the money: he’s come for me.’

‘Go on, get off home,’ he’d say exasperated.