Honour of the Line (10 page)

Angela decided enough was enough, she was often sick and felt tired and washed out and hoped it was something that just medicine would clear up. Who was she kidding? The lump in her tummy seemed to grow every time I undressed her but luckily her school clothes fitted loosely and seemed to hide it. Just myself, Georgina, Sue Page and Miss Waldron had any idea and hopefully, for all our sakes, it would stay that way.

Angela arranged to see the doctor on Wednesday after school. Her sister Jill would pick her up and go with her. I was so selfish. Instead of worrying, I was upset we couldn’t meet at the hut. As I left school I noticed Angela getting into a green Austin A40 car, which I assumed belonged to Jill but I was unable to see the driver.

Early that evening Georgina and I were sitting on the swings at the rec talking with others. It was dark although the evenings were slowly beginning to draw out. Under a street light I noticed a green A40 pull up and Angela emerged and called Georgina over. Georgina was gone for about ten minutes. I just sat there chatting with other friends, nobody had a clue. Georgina returned after about five minutes and asked if I fancied going for a walk and we left the rec via the hole in the fence and as we walked away she put her arm around my shoulder. Some of the other boys got the wrong message and by next morning the word was around that Georgina and I were now an item and going out together.

Georgina told me softly and sweetly that the doctor had confirmed that Angela was expecting a baby and as far as the doctor could tell, it would be expected around the 10
th
May. A few weeks seemed a million years so I didn’t panic, I actually felt really adult, which showed my total juvenile state of mind. Jill was going with Angela to tell her Mum but neither were going to say who the father was. Their father would be busy in the bar so they should be able to speak to their Mum first and let her decide when to tell him and ignite the rocket which would instantly explode.

Somehow I wasn’t expecting Angela to be at school the following morning but as I was walking to school I saw her father suited, booted and looking like he was about to start World War III. It wasn’t difficult to tell that he had not taken the news of being a Grandfather all that well. I somehow didn’t suppose that when he found out he shouted a free round of drinks for his regulars and asked them to raise their glasses.

After assembly Miss Page had a quiet word with me and arranged to meet me at lunchtime and she picked me up a couple of roads away from school and drove us to a quiet spot at the southern end of the Arches, so as not to arouse any suspicion. I felt uneasy, it was too close to home for comfort and to make matters even worse we passed Mum, who was returning home with a couple of bags of shopping. As I was missing school dinner, Sue shared her sandwiches with me, they were really nice, made with brown bread and cut corner to corner, the bread was fresh, not like the half stale stuff we often had at home. I really enjoyed them. For all of this emotion my appetite was still intact. Sue asked what the hell we were going to do and said it was her intention to somehow tell others so as they could treat Angela with a bit of care, as it wasn’t unlike boys to push each other about and Angela must not risk a fall. Sue was really lovely and she told me she would help all she could. She also asked if Angela’s parents knew who the father was. Our Headmaster had told her that Angela’s father, Mr Simms, was livid and intended to take his daughter away from his lowlife school as quickly as possible. Although I could understand his anger I felt his view of the Arches as lowlife was bang out of order. These genuine, hard working people, were lining that rich bastard’s pockets.

Sue dropped me off a couple of minutes walk from school, after checking that the coast was clear and we both had to rush as the bell went. What a disaster it would have been if we were both late. Sue had no need to tell any of the pupils, Angela’s brother Peter had gobbed it off to a couple of his mates and by the time dinner break was over the news was travelling as fast as lightning. Angela Simms being ‘up the duff’ was headline news. Much as it had to be kept quiet and secret as to whose child it was, I absolutely detested the cheap way in which the news was being spread around, it became blatantly obvious that most of the older lads wished it were them who were the father, it sickened me to hear it and left a terrible feeling in my heart.

The following Monday Angela returned to school but still we hadn’t learned our lesson, as we met at the hut to resume where we left off, although Angela’s bump was making it more difficult to fit through the gap in the fence. This made us both giggle. Before making love she told me that Jill was picking her up from school on Wednesday and also wanted to meet me, they had arranged to meet outside school and pick me up by the footbridge at St Jude’s. Angela also said her Dad was trying to get her into a school in Lancashire and get her to move in with her Auntie. Angela said she hoped he was only speaking in anger.

On the Tuesday morning things were becoming much clearer. I had been given time to digest everything and I had barely slept as my emotions were like a roller coaster. Sadly I could now see all of the problems but had no idea as to the answers. Everybody was going to be affected in some way or another. I started from the top of the list.

Poor Angela, by the time she gave birth her 15
th
birthday would still be a month away. How the hell would she cope? Would her parents support her financially? Surely her Mum would help. What was Angela going to do about our relationship? Sex at every opportunity was great but what when she had a baby to cope with? She was far too young to manage and we had both been foolish. However, we both craved for it so what was really wrong … except the consequences.

Her parents must have been distraught as she must surely have been the apple of their eyes. Peter, although a nice chap, was a bit of a drip and their elder daughter had been driven away by their strict discipline. Perhaps they had given Angela a little too much rein. They must have felt cheated but surely it was their place to stick by their daughter, whatever the situation.

How would my family feel I wondered? My Grandad would definitely forgive but probably blame himself for being my scapegoat. Whenever Mum and Dad had tried to be a bit strict he would always side with me. Dad would go berserk and tell me to sort it out for myself and dear old Mum would almost be so happy to be a Grandmother she would hope the second one wasn’t too long following.

As for Daisy, I could imagine her being just like a young Mum as she was now at an age to show a sense of responsibility. I could imagine her helping as much as possible and feeling very willing and proud. Whatever happened my family would stand rock solid behind me.

Despite all of these thoughts I still wasn’t facing reality. I was far too young to be a parent and I would soon have to make a decision whether to be a full time footballer and move away. Rather cowardly that seemed the best option at this moment but I had never liked people who were scared of facing the music. In my book if you made a mistake you paid for it.

Meeting Jill was also slightly daunting as I had no clue as to what she might be like. I wondered if she would be angry, sad, or supportive. I really hadn’t a clue but she sounded really nice. Nevertheless seeing her for the first time was going to be fairly traumatic as the only adults I had ever had proper in-depth conversations with were the lass from Woollies and Miss Page. Sue Page had been great through everything but I wondered about her as well. Why was she still single? Why didn’t she have children? She was a bit of a looker, surely many men would have fancied her. I know many of the lads at school did.

Besides my concerns for Angela, above all others, I felt especially sorry for Mum and Dad, who had been unable to have children of their own. Fortunately for me they didn’t know but it was of little consolation to me at that time. Another small plus was that whatever happened baby McFirley/Simms would not end up at St Jude’s, or anywhere similar. I would not let that happen.

Georgina had bumped into Jill a time or two and said she was really nice and I would definitely like her. I was very apprehensive about the whole meeting thing. Being pleasant to your younger sister’s boyfriend was a whole lot different to meeting the father of her child. The fact Angela and I were so young did not make me feel very confident that Jill would not shower me with the abuse I so richly deserved. But at least it wasn’t her Dad! Thank God he didn’t know, he would surely have given me a real good hiding, one which I would have thoroughly deserved. He may have had faults but surely any father in his position would want to take revenge on the culprit who had put his daughter in the family way. If he ever found out I could accept a slapping for the right reasons, like making Angela pregnant but I also suspected that parents often took revenge more for their own embarrassment. Surely they should support their daughter through thick and thin.

Immediately after school on Wednesday I rushed down to St Jude’s, passing the pub with a huge feeling of guilt and embarrassment. I was sweating like a pig and ‘I suspect I was as red as a beetroot and was also certain I looked guilty as charged. On the railway bridge by St Jude’s I stood shaking like a leaf as a lovely polished green A40 pulled up. Toot toot sounded and I walked towards the car as though I was going to the firing squad at high noon. Angela jumped, or should I say waddled, from the car and came over to me. She flung her arms around me and kissed me and then she said “Billy meet my sister Jill”.

As I got my first sighting of Jill I totally froze. Surely this was a dream? Jill looked at me also in a state of shock because, lo and behold, she was the girl from Woollies. No point in telling any more lies so I confessed to Angela that we knew each other from the record counter at the shop. This seemed to ease the tension as Jill made a joke about me spending hours in the shop without ever spending any money. I thought it best not to mention that Jill had helped finance my record player, it just made sense to say nothing. Angela and Jill travelled in the front, with me spread across the back seat and we all seemed okay and spoke about everything except the topic of the day, Angela having my baby. As we pulled away we had a jumpy start as Jill hadn’t had the car for very long. She’d had to save hard after passing her test. For a moment I thought poor Angela would have her baby sooner rather than later, with all the shaking. We all laughed and Angela said that her sister had mistakenly filled up with kangaroo petrol as the ride was so jumpy.

Once we arrived at a rather deserted beauty spot in the neighbouring town we got out and sat on a bench opposite the lake. It was really peaceful, the buds were trying to break through and at last it seemed winter was disappearing for another year. I sat between the two girls and put my arm around Angela’s shoulders. Rather surprisingly Jill put her arm around me as we discussed what the hell to do. Although it was so terribly wrong and I felt sure Jill was just being kind, she unknowingly sent butterflies through me. It was one of the best feelings I had ever experienced. She asked me what I was going to do about my football career and then touched the delicate subject of my long term plans. Being totally honest I said I hadn’t a clue – in my mind a few weeks seemed a lifetime away. I wouldn’t have to face the music for a while at least. I knew this was totally irresponsible but I was trying to be up-front and honest. Jill then asked Angela the same question and her reply was that perhaps if I took the football route and moved to the Midlands maybe we could rent a house together, because whatever her father said, I would always be this baby’s Dad. Jill then pointed out that at 15 we would almost certainly be hunted down by the Police and the baby taken into care. She told Angela she could understand why she had fallen for me as I seemed a sensible chap and very adult for my age. This made me feel really good but if I were that adult I would surely have been responsible enough to avoid full sex and go no further than fondling and the like. At least I was beginning to notice my faults, it wasn’t like we had only done it once or twice, we were at it like rabbits at every half chance that came our way. Jill said she had no idea how to sort it but would have a chat with her Mum in private as her Dad was like a headless chicken who wanted to be a vigilante and murder every male under 20 years of age who lived within the Arches. His stuck up opinion of us was that we were all low life and it must be one of us, but our sort were his bread and butter.

As we returned to the bridge by St Jude’s, Jill pulled the car up very gently, stopped the engine and waited for Angela and I to get out. When I got out Jill came over to me and kissed me firmly on the cheek whilst giving me the biggest cuddle. As she did this she asked me to go to Woollies at closing time on Thursday. Angela and I had our usual passionate snog and she got back in the car so that Jill could drop her off near the pub.

I decided to cross the bridge to St Jude’s and had a strange feeling come over me. I could still smell Jill’s perfume on my neck and although I knew it was wrong I became aroused. Deciding I had to pull myself together I distracted my mind by looking at the sad sight of St Jude’s, the main building was in the process of being demolished and I sat by a pile of rubble and sobbed. Confusion, guilt, you name it, I had every emotion in the book and the sadness of St Jude’s just about tipped the scales. It was at that point I felt life held no future for me and for the one and only time I considered taking my own life. At the time it was a serious thought and I considered chucking myself from the bridge in front of the 6 0’clock which was always my favourite train as it was steam hauled and, more often than not, by a named engine. The 6 0’clock had brought me many happy memories during my childhood. I can recall seeing named engines brightly painted and shining pulling the lovely green carriages of that time but sadly nowadays steam was in big decline and most engines were really filthy and the carriages looked fit for the scrapyard.