The Drama Club

It was a Monday afternoon, February 3rd, 1964, and it was raining, which was not unusual in the small town on the South Coast of England for that time of year. Paul Mason, coming up 19 and a half, stepped off the train, carrying two suitcases.

Fresh from Grammar School, with enough A levels to go to University, but not quite enough funds, Paul had joined a large Construction Company to follow a management training course, which, if he was successful on the practical, work experience parts, would put him through university at the company's expense. His first two months had been spent in the Leeds Office, near his home, learning site payroll, and then three months on a site he could bus to from home. But now, for the first time, he was out away from home in the big wide world, on his own. He was going to be assigned to a large speculative housing site for 6 months learning store-keeping.

Lodging had been arranged for him with a local widow, and the instructions said it was a short walk from the station. Fortunately, that was true as there wasn't a taxi to be seen. In less than 10 minutes, he got from station to lodging. He also got soaked through. The lady, Mrs. Robinson, was pleased to see him, and showed him up to his room. She had had other boys from the Company before, and had always had glowing reports on her cooking and her friendliness , which were the main reasons the company kept using her.

After drying out, and unpacking the essentials, Paul went down for evening dinner. Liver, bacon and onions, with mashed potatoes and covered with thick savory brown gravy - one of his favorites - made him form an instant bond with Mrs. Robinson. He was scheduled to be here for 6 months, and this meal got him off to a good start!

Paul did not have much experience of the world outside of his small Yorkshire home town, and school. He had never had a girl-friend, and had only ever had one really close male friend. He was gregarious enough to know lots of people, just was happy to be a loner who knew lots of people. He watched sports, but was not into playing them. He had grown up singing in the church choir, and had even done a couple of school plays, so it was not a confidence thing so much as being reserved. His Mum being on her own also encouraged him to hang around his own house most of the time.

He had grown up effectively with a single mother as his Dad died when he was 5. Fortunately for his Mum, because it was an industrial accident and because his Dad also believed in life insurance, his mother was well provided for. Careful financial management of the insurance, a pay-out from the company and a union pension had provided a nice semi-detached house and enough money to keep them fed and warm. His Mum wasn't interested in marrying again.

But now, Paul was away from home, no longer a school boy. He was a man, earning a living, learning a living, in a place where nobody knew him. He knew it was possible to make a fresh start as whoever he wanted to be. From 'sweet sixteen and never been kissed', maybe it would all be so different when he reached 20.

Mrs. Robinson's house was also a small three-bed semi, rather like his mother's, but with one definite difference, learned even at the first meal - that she was a much better cook! She had been widowed for about 20 years, her husband dying of cancer.

As he looked around the room while thanking Mrs. Robinson for an excellent meal, he saw a photograph - in color - of a young woman that looked to be about his age.

"Who's the young lady?" he asked.

"Oh, that's my daughter, but it was taken about 10 years ago, she almost 32 now."

Paul couldn't help himself. "Pity," he said, "She's very attractive."

Mrs. Robinson laughed. "Yes, she is - and she still looks pretty well as good as in that picture. And she's still single. I don't know what's wrong with the men around here!" Paul let that one float past him.

"So, given I haven't got a car, what is there to do around here without leaving town?"

"Well, you're over 18, so there's a couple of decent pubs, with music some nights, and darts and things other nights. There's dances almost every week at St. Mary's Church Hall that are real dances - ballroom dancing, I mean."

"My Mum made me learn that when I was younger - said it would allow me to meet girls but I only ever met older ladies!" He smiled, ruefully.

"Well, the ones here are for all ages, so you might have better luck. My daughter goes to some of them, she's a good dancer. There's also the modern jiggle your bum dances at the Town Hall occasionally. And there's lots to do in Brighton, so maybe you'll make friends with people with cars. And there's the Drama Club."

"What's that when it's at home?"

"Well, they want to get a theatre going in town, so a teacher has started a drama club to teach the basics of acting, with the view to creating a local theatre company which will put on plays and eventually build the funds to build a theatre. My daughter is in it, and she says it's fun. Each week he has them improvising scenes, or doing an excerpt from a play, so they will get to understand about portraying different emotions and things. Carol really enjoys it."

"I take it Carol is your daughter's name?"

"Yes, Carol Elizabeth Anne, to be fully correct. But she only uses the Carol bit. Actually, she's coming for dinner tomorrow, with her son, so you'll get to meet her."

"Her son?"

"Yes. She met this chap who promised all sorts while she was at University. Talked her into bed and got her in the family way, then buggered off, if you'll pardon my French. Still, she sorted herself out and manages a Mortgage Brokers now. They are providing the mortgages for the sale of the houses you're building where you're working at. Mike is 9. My older son and his wife have him visit them often at weekends, over in Brighton, so that he can grow up with his cousin and not be quite the only child. So my daughter has a good job, a good son, and no hubby."

Paul watched some television with 'Mrs. R.' as he learned everyone called her, except her own family, and then went to get ready for his first day at the new site. As he went upstairs, Mrs. R. asked "Shepherd's pie do you for tomorrow?"

"If it's as good as tonight's dinner, it will be both perfect and superb" he said.

"You're learning flattery at a young age," she replied, but with a laugh.

******************************

So at 8 o'clock he was on his new site. It was about a 15 minute walk to the edge of town, so not too bad. The store-keeper responsible for training him was a short, skinny individual whose real ambition was to be a jockey. He wasn't really all that interested in the construction industry, and read the racing papers at every available opportunity. The site was large, and would contain just over 250 houses when completed.

The General Foreman - the GF - was a big guy, in every meaning of the word. Tall, large chest and waist, large voice, but underneath it all was actually a good guy with a sense of humor. It was he who took Paul around the site, explaining the layout of the plot numbers. Other than bulk materials like sand, gravel and cement, everything was delivered to a specific plot number, so that the correct color and design of bricks and so on were put directly to the correct plot.

He pointed out which three units were designated to become the show houses eventually, as the stuff in those would be a bit different, and needed to be specially looked after to prevent damage or mix up. Of course, at this state of development, roads were in but not individual drive-ways and paths, so there was plenty of mud. Paul issued himself a pair of rubber boots from the stores as his first experience of making a stores issue.

He learned all about MRS (Materials Received Summaries) and MSI (Material Stock Issues) forms that had to be completed each week, as well as other forms to receive plant and equipment on site or send it back to the regional plant yard.

The office manager was a guy of about 40, Jack, who had been in construction all his working life. He quietly warned Paul about Gerry, the want-to-be jockey, and his laziness, and told Paul to refer to him if Gerry failed to explain anything fully. "Been in this building business since man came out of caves," he would say, "so I can always tell you how it should be done."

There was a food truck came round about 9:30 that sold stuff for breakfast, and tea and coffee, and then came back around 12 with lunch. Because of the early start, his deal with Mrs. R. was breakfast only on non-working days, so she didn't have to get up early to make it. Management people, like Paul, paid for their food, but tea and coffee was 'part of wages' and the company paid the food truck once a week. So a small part of the stores job was tracking the tea and coffee and letting the office manager know the details on the last working day of the week.

The day passed quickly enough, and at 5 o'clock, Paul headed back to Mrs. R's place to clean up for dinner. He was in his room at the front of the house when he heard a car pull up, and, looking out of the window, saw an attractive blonde woman get out of the car, as well as a young boy. Obviously Carol and Mike. He let them get in and greet Mrs. R. before he went downstairs.

Up close, Carol didn't seem to have aged much in the ten years between the photo and now. She still had exactly the same hair style - soft curls, natural blonde - and a very nice, warm smile. She also had quite the figure with noticeable curves, full bust and great legs, all not shown in the photo. Paul was tall, enough to be taller than Carol, but not by much.

Mike, her son, obviously kept some toys here at Gran's, including a Meccano set, so he was in the front room playing there. After saying hello to Carol, Paul went in to see Mike, and was soon sitting on the floor helping to build a crane. Mike was impressed by this, and insisted he sit next to Paul at dinner.

Carol kept checking during the crane building that Mike wasn't being a nuisance, but Paul was happy to sit with the young boy until dinner was ready. Over dinner, Carol asked Paul quite a lot of questions, and learned about his father dying, his being in grammar school, and his eventual hope to go to University to do a Business Degree with Accounting and Law. She herself had done a similar course at University, which is how she got to be in the Mortgage business for a Building Society. With her Dad dying when she was 12, it turned out they had several things in common.

It was Mrs. R. that brought up the Drama Club, so when Carol asked him if he had done much on stage, Paul was able to say he had been in two school plays - Twelfth Night and Macbeth. He also admitted to having sung in the Church Choir until his voice broke. "You should come to the Drama Club, then," said Carol, "never know who you might meet, it's a lot of fun, and some of us go for a drink after. You're over 18 so you can drink!"

It turned out that the Drama Club met on Thursdays, so Carol offered to pick Paul up and take him on his first night, so he could learn where it met, in the Church Hall at St. Peter's.

So the evening went pleasantly by. Paul and Mike put away the part finished crane to work on it the next time they came for dinner, and Carol left with a kiss for her Mum and a wave to Paul.

"That was an excellent meal, Mrs. R." said Paul when they had left. "How often do they come round like this?"

"Varies, but usually every other week. Sometimes every week. Normally Tuesdays because of Mike's other activities. And as I said last night, he goes over to my son Tony and his wife Jane quite often, 'cause their lad is 10 and they get on well together. Gives our Carol a break, although she does have Freddie, our Tony's boy, over occasionally if they're going off somewhere, so it works out."

"Nice when families help each other like that. There was just Mum and I, neither she nor Dad had brothers or sisters, and the Grand Parents on Mum's side were all dead. Dad's Mum was alive until recently, in Scotland. Sometimes I think I was lucky Mum didn't put me up for adoption so she could have a life."

"Well, she didn't, and you turned out a credit to her; Mike really liked you sitting with him, I could tell. Sometimes he can be awful quiet, but you got him chatting away nineteen to the dozen. I could tell our Carol was quite impressed that you did that, too."

So together, they watched the news, and then Paul went off to bed. Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much like Tuesday - learning all the forms that had to be filled in, making sure deliveries were dropped at the right place, checking inventory levels of the bulks to call in more if required. One job he particularly liked was making six-inch cubes of concrete when the foundations of a house were laid, so the cube could be sent to the lab and checked for strength. Sort of like a grown-up sandcastle!

Thursday saw him having a quick supper with Mrs. R. so he could get ready for Carol picking him up, so it was sausage, egg and chips, except the sausages were from a local farm that delivered around town, and they were excellent. Paul had never eaten so well in his life.

Carol turned up on time. She drove a small Ford Anglia that was quite new. White with a red roof that looked quite sporty. The inside was red. When Paul commented on the red interior, Carol laughed and said "That's so the blood won't show when I murder our Mike!" and they both laughed.

The church was an old Anglican church that had probably been there a couple of hundred years. The Hall was a separate building, much newer. When they went in, there were about 14 people there apart from themselves. Paul met John, the 'director with nothing to direct' as he put it, who turned out to be an okay sort of guy. Everyone introduced themselves, but most of the names went straight by Paul.

John would pick two or three people and get them to improvise a sketch. For one scene, he got three people up. One wanted to get the directions to a particular church, and the other two, being confused as to which church she meant, were giving her directions to two different churches. The girl receiving the directions was really good at getting the other two completely confused, and everyone had a great laugh.

The evening went by quite quickly with several other scenes. For the last scene, John paired up Paul and Carol. He wanted them to pretend that they were lovers, and that Paul was leaving town to live somewhere else, and would likely never come back.

Paul had never had a lover. Not even a girlfriend while at school. Carol had had a lover who left and never came back, leaving her 'in the family way'. Paul could tell she was reliving that as they improvised the scene. Carol kept standing closer and closer to him, and he found himself backing away in the face of her criticism. She even managed a couple of tears when she said "I really thought you loved me...." and Paul found himself saying "And so did I. I am so sorry."

Carol was right up in his face as this exchange happened. Getting right into the emotion of the piece, Carol grabbed his upper arms, and Paul, before he knew what he was doing, had bent forward and kissed her. It wasn't just a peck, either. He gave Carol a real kiss, a long kiss, and hugged her to him. Then he pushed her away, spun on his heels and quickly walked away.

The others all clapped. John called Paul and Carol back together, and complimented them on creating some real emotion - real tension as he called it. Paul gave Carol a sheepish smile, and she smiled a nice, warm, friendly one back.

Sitting in the car later, Paul said "I hope I didn't embarrass you by kissing you. I never kissed anyone but my Mum before, not even girls at school."

"Well, if that's the case, you're a good natural kisser. I thought it was a great kiss. If you're a good boy, I might let you have another one later...."

They went round the pub and sat with John and about four of the others. John was explaining that Paul would like it here in the summer, when there were some outdoor productions in Brighton and other places. A couple of them asked each other if they were going to the dance on Saturday at St. Mary's. Carol and one of the other girls said they were thinking about it.

Carol dropped Paul off at Mrs. R's after the pub, and gave Paul a kiss on the cheek just as he was about to get out. Then she looked carefully at his cheek. Paul asked her why.

"Checking for lipstick. Mum knows you're out with me, can't have her catching you with lipstick on your cheek!" Finding no lipstick mark, she smiled and gave him another quick kiss.

Paul was quite confused. A woman several years older had partaken in a big real kiss with him. A woman he barely knew, and they kissed in front of a load of people he didn't know at all. His first kiss ever was a 'dramatic' event. But, it was still his first kiss ever with someone other than his mother. And he knew that it wasn't a motherly kiss - there was an emotion he had never felt before there. And now she had given him two more. Admittedly, nowhere near as intense, but kisses none the less, and not part of a drama exercise either.

He went in the house. Mrs. R was just heading up the stairs. "Did you have a good time?" she asked.

Paul smiled. "Yes, I did, a very good time. And met some people in the pub too. Your Carol is fun."

Later as he lay in bed, he took his cock in his hand. His cock started to get hard.

He had learned about masturbation years before from biology books he had looked at because they didn't do biology as a subject in his school, and from other boys talking. He knew when he stroked himself, his cock grew hard. What he had never known until tonight was that a woman just kissing him could cause exactly the same effect.....

He didn't masturbate. He laid still, just holding himself, reliving the whole experience. He didn't know if Carol had felt it, but he had, He had felt that hard on; his cock getting harder and bigger like when he masturbated. It surprised him, that it could happen without him touching himself, or anyone else touching him there. That was why he had spun away so dramatically. Not for theatrical effect but from embarrassment.

He didn't know for certain if Carol was going to the dance on Saturday, but he already knew he was, just in case.

******************************

Friday at work was the start of a whole new life style for Paul. Gerry the want-to-be-jockey found a position as a jockey, and handed in his notice. As he had some vacation outstanding, he took that as his notice period, which meant that his last day was that day, to all intents and purposes. So even though he was here to be trained, Paul was going to have to be the de facto store keeper.

Jack, the office manager, gave Paul a thick hard-bound book with the pages mounted on three posts. "This, my friend, is the Company Bible," he said. "You'll find all you need to know in there, and what you don't understand - which probably won't be much - I can explain. For a bright young man like you, store keeping should be a breeze. Main thing is to stay on top of your deliveries, and double-check where you unload. One thing the GF hates is having to move materials around because they were unloaded in the wrong place. It's dead cost as far as he's concerned."

"Thank you, sir," said Paul, not yet being out of the schoolboy habit of calling people in authority 'Sir'.

"And cut the 'Sir' bit. I'm Jack, you're Paul, unless you screw up. Then you're an idiot and a pain in the butt! And words you wouldn't want your mother to hear." But he was smiling as he said it.

Fortunately there were very few deliveries that day and so Paul was able to read through the Company Bible section on store-keeping. Most of it was pretty obvious. He checked he had all the correct forms that needed to be filled in for the weekly returns. Gerry would do them today, but next week would be down to him.