Forged with Flames by Ann Fogarty, Anne Crawford Page A

was early, he was already there when I arrived. David, too, was smartly dressed, his red hair neatly combed and parted. I felt so awkward, but took heart that he’d decided that we would go to ‘the pictures’, which meant we wouldn’t have to struggle to find things to talk about. We exchanged a few words—the most words we’d ever said to each other—and got our tickets, David paying for mine, after which we made our way into the theatre, squinting hard to see our way in the dark and locate two empty seats. Many other people had come to see the film that night, too, and had already filled most of the cinema. The movie was Tarzan and the Valley of Gold —not exactly my first choice—which had just come out in mid-1966 and was bound to be popular. I was sure I could see a few spare seats near the front but, call me naive, I agreed when David suggested we sit in the back row.
    It wasn’t long into the movie that I realised David wasn’t really interested in Tarzan at all. He was more concerned with kissing. I was sure David was a nice boy—he was a prefect—but he was moving way too fast. I tried to turn him away, concentrating steadfastly on the film. David, however, perhaps spurred on by the machismo of the ape-man in loincloth, waspersistent. It was hard work dodging his advances and averting my face to avoid his lips while pinned to the seat. When Tarzan took his last swing through the jungle, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, jumping up too eagerly in my haste to exit the cinema. David offered to walk me home, but I’d had enough by this stage and said I was quite happy to take the bus. It was wonderful to finally arrive home and close the door on the whole episode. My family was, of course, keen to hear how my first date had turned out.
    â€˜How was it? What was he like?’ they asked excitedly.
    They laughed uproariously when I replied, ‘Never, ever will I go out with a boy again—all they want to do is kiss!’
    It would be a long time before I met someone I actually wanted to kiss.

6
    SPRINGFIELD HOUSE
    B ecause I had such a natural talent for athletics, people around me presumed I’d become a Physical Education teacher. The idea did appeal, but by 1966 when I turned sixteen, school had become such an emotional minefield that I just wanted to flee it as quickly as possible. I needed to find another career to follow. As I approached Sixth Form and A Levels, I knew, too, that I’d be the sports prefect and I couldn’t bear the thought of that if I stayed on. Far too much public exposure.
    A few years earlier, two movies starring Julie Andrews had become popular: Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music . My father was rather taken by the latter and we saw it at a large cinema in Manchester at least half a dozen times, sometimes with other relatives. Julie Andrews seemed to be having such fun being a nanny with her horde of adoring children that I decided I’d become a nanny, too. I loved little children—especially the way they just accepted you. After taking my O Levels, I left school at the end of Fifth Form to enrol in child-care training, knowing at the time I was really looking for an alternative to becoming a PE teacher. I had chosen out of fear.
    Springfield House, where I was to spend the next two-and-a-half years, was an exclusive college that took only twenty-four students each year. It was located in Burnley, in a three-storey building that had once been a private residence and still had a homely air about it. The rooms were large and airy with high ceilings, and included an attic where we’d spend the rest of lunch hour after we’d eaten, relaxing on cushions on the floor. The college was run by three women who’d never married—‘spinsters’, in those days—who were completely dedicated to ensuring that our training was thorough and of the highest standard.
    The other students, all female,