Chapter 3: Jane
April 1988.
Friday night and for once I wasn't out with my pal David Wear; it was the local Rugby Club's Annual Dinner and that sport was one of the few interests that we didn't share. In Dave's words "What sort of fucking moron goes out and gets a kicking every Saturday afternoon just for fun? It's not even as if you get paid for it!" I must admit; there have been days when I've wondered the same thing.
It promised to be a good night and I was there early propping up the bar. I'd no partner for the evening as by tradition all unattached members of the first team and even a few who were married, came alone; then spent the evening getting wildly drunk at the expense of the past-players. The theory was that the resulting hangovers made things safer for the past-players the following day, when an annual 'Past versus Present First Fifteens' match was played.
I was approached almost immediately by Lorna, the younger sister of our team captain; this was something of a surprise as it was no secret that she disliked me intensely; Of far more interest however, was the girl that was with her; she was a stunner! Lorna began chatting and made the appropriate introductions; her friend was called 'Jane' and like her was a final year student at the local school.
Close-up Jane looked even prettier and was also something of an enigma. A student at the local high-school, she spoke; albeit rarely as she was clearly very shy, with a local accent and was drop-dead gorgeous too; why hadn't I dated or at the very least met this girl before? Whilst tonight was hardly a perfect situation, I decided that I should immediately rectify this serious oversight and proceeded to flirt with her outrageously: not surprisingly Lorna soon withdrew.
Jane had very fine, silky and naturally blonde hair, which she then wore fairly long; reaching I suppose to about the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her eyes were a liquid Blue/Green shade and looked as if they could just swallow you up. Even back then Jane's figure could be best described as statuesque and in the low-cut, iridescent blue and perhaps fractionally too small cocktail dress she was wearing it was shown off to perfection. A few years later my elder brother described Jane as "A poor man's Bridget Bardot" I know her better and disagree; BB is poor man's Jane Bright. Jane's personality remains unfathomable; she was certainly very shy and nervous when I first knew her and even now she still can be; but nowadays if you were to meet her it's just as likely that her passionate and adventurous side would be on display. I surrendered and stopped trying to fathom her out, years ago.
We stayed chatting at the bar for quite some time and whilst her nervousness eased a little, I was still unable to find out much about her; though she clearly knew who I was. Jane was happy to discuss rugby, of which she clearly knew very little and motorcycle racing, about which she was a little more knowledgeable; it was only later that I realised she knew more about my own racing exploits than she perhaps ought. From the questioning looks I received from friends and team-mates in passing, it was clear that Jane was a stranger to them too; I was increasingly intrigued. We stayed together until it was time to take our places for dinner and on the first team table at least 'who is she?' was a major topic of conversation; even Lorna's brother didn't seem to know her; just 'some friend of Lorna's' though he did advise that whilst looking older; Jane might not be eighteen yet and so I should perhaps 'watch my step.'
After the speeches and presentations and despite my rapidly increasing inebriation, I rejoined Jane quickly; not least because several team-mates had by now expressed their own interests. We spent the remainder of the evening dancing together and though the loud music deterred much further conversation I did at least get Jane's surname, an address and phone number (both local as suspected) and arranged to collect her for a 'date' on the Sunday afternoon; when I would to take her for a spin on one of my motorbikes around the Lake District. Beyond that things are fairly vague, the alcohol took its toll and I don't actually remember Jane Leaving.
Not unexpectedly, the following morning was not one of my best; but I made it back to the Rugby Club for a couple of lunchtime 'sharpeners' before we took to the field and were resoundingly beaten by the past-players. That's another tradition; the old-boys always win the game and then foot the bill for another major piss-up on the Saturday evening; this annual and un-missable party being the main reason behind my fixing our date for the Sunday afternoon, not Saturday night.
It was whilst heading for the showers after the game that one of the stewards stopped me to pass on an 'urgent' phone message. It was 'vital' that I went around to the Weir's farm that evening and especially stressed that this visit was to be 'before you get too pissed.' It seemed a strange request so after my shower, I got a pint at the bar and made further enquiries; it was then that I discovered the message hadn't been from David as I'd imagined; but from Sarah. I was horrified; my beer turned sour in the glass: the connotations of a message like that from Sarah were too frightening to consider. I left immediately, making apologies to those around me and whilst assuring everyone that I'd be 'back in an hour or so' I hoped rather than anticipated that my words would prove true.
It was only about five miles to the Weir farm, but felt like the longest journey of my life as I anticipated what trouble lay in wait; as I came up the farm track, the men were clearly heading back toward the house from the cow-sheds and both Al and Dave waved at my approach; perhaps it wasn't what I feared; though Cam carried on into the house, not looking my way; perhaps the boys didn't know? They were waiting as I got out of the car; Dave's first words "you are in deep shit sunbeam" were not reassuring, nor was Al's adjunct of "Ma is gonna kill you" Though the grins they were wearing suggested that things were not as serious as I'd feared?
"So what's Sarah mad about?"
"Oh, we're not getting involved. But you'd better get in there quick; pa's already gone on ahead to tell her you've arrived" was Dave's enigmatic response.
I headed inside with Dave and Al at my shoulders; my first sight as I entered the lounge was Cam, standing there and looking sternly toward me "At last; the village cradle-snatcher arrives!"
I was bewildered by that comment and it clearly showed. Cam and the boys burst out laughing whilst Sarah; who was smiling at least; replied "Sit down Rob, we need to talk; so outside the rest of you and leave us to it."
There was a grumble of complaint; not least from Cam who hadn't initially realised that Sarah's dismissal included him too; but she's never been a lady you argue with and within thirty seconds we were alone.
"Don't look so worried; you're not in trouble. Sarah reassured. "Well I don't think you are?"
I grinned before responding "This isn't a worried look; that disappeared a few moments ago when I realized your mysterious phone message to the Rugby Club didn't indicate that our relationship had been discovered"
A burst of laughter. "God I'm sorry; I can see now how you might have thought that: well don't worry, that secret's still safe"
"So what was so urgent?"
"I thought you might tell me?"
"Knowing it's not me and you; I would until ninety seconds ago have had no idea; but given Cam's comment and the timing; I now presume it's something to do with the pretty blonde girl that I met last night?"
"Right first time. Now why should I want to discuss Jane with you?"
I noticed that Sarah had referred to Jane by name, when I specifically hadn't. "I have no idea; but things are sounding promising; as you seem to know who she is at least; which is more than any of us at the Rugby Club did.
That elicited more laughter from Sarah. "Did I say something amusing?"
Sarah shook her head, in what I mistakenly thought was apology. "For God's sake; whilst Jane's hardly part of the local social scene; the one guy there last night who does know her is you!"
"Me? I've never met her before in my life."
"Wrong. Which Jane do we both know? Did you even ask her surname?"
"Yes; I can't remember it at the moment; things got a bit heavy last night; but I've got it written down somewhere.
"Does Nixon ring any bells?"
"Yes; certainly it's something like that."
"So I'll try again. Which Jane Nixon do we both know?"
"Look I'm sorry Sarah; but I've never seen that girl before. Believe me; I would've recognised her if I had."
"God you men; you never look above a girls cleavage!"
I grinned "From that comment; I'd agree that we're certainly discussing the same girl"
