I had taught Catherine for two of the past three years, and she had been an exceptional English student. Once she left school I had hoped that we would keep in touch, but after the final exam I heard nothing from her. School resumed and I picked up more students, including her sister, but I was never able to find one that I'd enjoyed teaching as much as she.
Halfway through the year, her sister Sarah informed me that Catherine would be back for several weeks after her first year's mid-year exams were completed, and that she wanted to catch up with me over lunch in the city. School holidays were about to start so I made plans to meet her during the week in a nice, quiet tavern on the viaduct.
Cathy was waiting at a table outside the bar when I arrived, and it took me a moment to recognise her. She had been a slim girl with brown hair which sometimes had a hint of blonde, her petite build on a slightly taller than average body, with small breasts which had never really attracted much notice. On the few occasions I'd seen her out of uniform I'd been interested to note that she never flaunted any part of her body, unlike so many of the other girls her age; she'd always dressed demurely and sensibly.
The girl who stood up from the table to greet me was still slim, but otherwise almost completely different. Her hair had been dyed a very dark black, and she was wearing tight blue jeans and a small red top with a plunging v-neck, which failed to cover her midriff. She also appeared to be wearing a push-up bra, putting a quite delectable cleavage on display through the deep neckline of her blouse.
She'd also changed a lot from the nervous girl, lacking in self-confidence and plagued by self-doubt, that I had known when I'd first met her. Cathy's first time away from home for any longer than a week had forced her to become more self reliant, and I was delighted to see that she was blossoming into a confident and self assured young woman. She still had some way to go, though, expressing doubts in her ability to cut it academically out of school. I did my best to reassure her, reminding her that university was a huge ocean compared to the fishpond of high school. Being over 18, and away from home, presented a huge number of opportunities as well as potential dangers.
"That's one of the things I'm worried about," she said.
"What? Getting drunk? I'm sure Orientation was a blast! As long as you make sure that you are drinking sensibly and with people that you know and trust, I'm sure you're entitled to a little license. Safety lies in numbers." I took a mouthful of beer, briefly reminiscing on some of my own drunken escapades while at university.
"No, it's not that. Its something else ... but hard for me to say." The nervousness and self-doubt that I had spent years trying to remove began to show in her face as she looked at me with uncertainty.
"Cathy, I've been your teacher for three years, and I'd like to think that for at least some of that time I was your friend as well. I'd certainly like you to see me in that light. Whatever you want to say, you can say it."
"Well ... there's this boy at the dorm. I like him a lot but he never really seemed to notice me until the end of term. Now he's always around and just before I left he asked me out, but - I don't know ..."
"You don't know if you want to go out with him?"
"No, I do! I just don't know how to act."
I looked at her with a measure of surprise. "But you've had boyfriends before."
Her eyes darted away in embarrassment, as a faint blush began to colour her cheeks. "No, I haven't. I've never had a boyfriend before."
"But at the ball...?"
"He was just a friend. I've never actually been asked out by anyone before, and the whole thing just makes me so nervous."
"Well, I guess that if you like this guy then you can always say yes and see what happens from there."
"That's what worries me. What does happen from there? What if he wants to ... you know ... do it?"
The blush which had began deepening for the past minute now became a full body flush.
"Well..." I said, taking another, larger, mouthful of beer as I thought over what to say, "I guess that you are old enough to make your own decision on that, aren't you? Remember that you hold the power here, and don't do anything unless you're comfortable with it."
"Yes, but ... I ... don't really - what if I'm no good? I don't know what to do! What happens when he finds out that I don't know? What will he think?"
My eyebrows had risen in shock but I quickly dragged them down before she looked at me again. "You're a ... that is, you've ah ... never had sex before?"
"No, I haven't even kissed a boy before. What if I'm a terrible kisser?"
I chuckled. "Cathy, everyone starts out like this. Remember that there is a first time for everything, and this guy may well be quite inexperienced as well ..."
"No, I doubt it. He's always got a girl with him - actually, these past two weeks is the longest amount of time I've seen him without a girl on his arm."
"Hmm, maybe he isn't the best guy for you to involve yourself with then, Cathy. Okay, forget I said anything. Look, I'm sorry but I guess this is just something that you have to learn by experience!"
"Yes, but how do I learn it before I have to do it? I don't want our first kiss to be a disaster! Why don't they teach this sort of thing at school?"
"I'm sorry Cathy, but it wasn't in the curriculum! Besides, who would teach it - could you imagine Mr McDonald taking the class?" I chuckled at the thought - the teacher I'd named was not a favourite of the younger women on staff, who felt a little uncomfortable around him for some reason, and I'd learned several years before that this feeling was shared by most of the female students at our school as well.
Instead of laughing, which I'd hoped she'd do, Cathy looked extremely serious. "No, I can't. But I know which teacher I'd want taking the class."
"Who, Mr Roberts? He's married now, unfortunately. As is Mr Nixon. And Mr White has left, so there aren't too many hunky teachers left for you to ..."
"I'm talking about you, Mr K! Have you been blind all these years?" She stood up from the table and then leaned forward on it, looking intently into my eyes. "I've had a crush on you since Year 11. I used to daydream about you kissing me, and then look up to see you looking at me. I want you to teach me so that when I get back I'll know what to do."
I was almost speechless, but soon found some words.
"I... ah... well, Cathy, you see ... that is, I feel honoured that ... but I ..."
"Sir, you said when I left last year that if I ever needed any help with anything that I could rely on you. Well, I need your help now. Please? Don't let me down." Her hands clutched each other in that universal symbol for begging or pleading, and her face adopted soulful puppy-dog-eyes, little Orphan Annie kind of look which was almost impossible to knock back.
"I know that's what I said, Cathy, but this wasn't what I had in mind!"