bland expression, controlling a little smile which kept tugging at the corners of her mouth. It might have been a coincidence that her mother should have spotted this particular news item but Janice didnât think so. No, it meant that something had conspired to set her and Kenny apart from everyone else. The secret they shared was now even more
their
secret because what had taken place was common knowledge and yet only the two of them, of all the people in the world, knew the full truth. Sitting at the kitchen table watching her mother â still with the vestiges of last nightâs make-up on her face and her blonde hair uncombed â reading from the paper, Janice experienced a warm enveloping glow; her breathing became loose and she suddenly felt that she had to go to the toilet. And she would be seeing him again soon, that very afternoon at the match. A record came on the radio, âyounglove, first love, filled with true emotionâ¦â and it was as if her life, endlessly circular, had at last assumed a pattern, and all at once it came to her that she was a young woman growing up: that her mother sitting opposite her was, after all, only her mother.
Kennyâs world became the real world for Janice. It dazzled her, intrigued her, scared her, thrilled her. Whereas before she had lived a kind of half-life, literally half-alive, now it became a strange adventure, dark with mystery. She couldnât express it in words⦠it was something she felt⦠something her body responded to which she herself didnât properly understand. School became a shadowy interlude through which she drifted in a dream-like state thinking about the night before or the night ahead. Marjorie, Janiceâs best friend, knew about Kenny and didnât think much of him. In her opinion he was a great lummox. Neither did she like it when Janice stopped going to the youth club on Thursday nights and even less when they ceased to visit each otherâs homes and play records while they discussed boys, make-up and popstars. As for Janiceâs mother, she noticed very little anyway. Maybe Janice wasnât in the flat as much as she used to be, and when she was seemed to spend most of the time in her room listening to soul records, but apart from that it didnât strike her that there was anything markedly different in her daughterâs behaviour. Even when Janice started going away every other Saturday to places like Grimsby and Plymouth and Wrexham she took it for granted that this was a natural stage in the development of a fourteen-year-old girl.
Perhaps if Janice had had the influence of a father (who had died when she was three) she wouldnât have been allowed to roam where and as she pleased. Questions might have been asked, rules imposed, and a stricter watch kept on the company she sought. However, this is hypothetical: the fact was that never at any time was Janice asked to account for her movements, whom she met and what took place. Mr Casson, her teacher, once became concernedabout her welfare and he might have mentioned it at the end-of-term Open Day. But Mrs Singleton hadnât bothered to turn up; consequently Mr Casson lost interest too.
One thing that might have made her sit up and take notice: if Janice had become pregnant, but as this possibility was unthinkable it was simply never thought of. Despite being an avid reader of the
News of the World
Janiceâs mother never once entertained the notion that a fate worse than death could ever befall her Janice.
CHORLEY
ONE SATURDAY NIGHT A GANG OF THEM MET OUTSIDE THE ABC cinema and couldnât decide where to go. They clustered round the brightly-lit entrance keeping out of the slanting rain, jostling one another and making rude remarks about the film that was advertised in the illuminated panel:
The Four Dimensions of Greta
. Inside, in the warmth behind the glass doors, the cashier (an old dear with a hearing-aid) exchanged
their
secret because what had taken place was common knowledge and yet only the two of them, of all the people in the world, knew the full truth. Sitting at the kitchen table watching her mother â still with the vestiges of last nightâs make-up on her face and her blonde hair uncombed â reading from the paper, Janice experienced a warm enveloping glow; her breathing became loose and she suddenly felt that she had to go to the toilet. And she would be seeing him again soon, that very afternoon at the match. A record came on the radio, âyounglove, first love, filled with true emotionâ¦â and it was as if her life, endlessly circular, had at last assumed a pattern, and all at once it came to her that she was a young woman growing up: that her mother sitting opposite her was, after all, only her mother.
Kennyâs world became the real world for Janice. It dazzled her, intrigued her, scared her, thrilled her. Whereas before she had lived a kind of half-life, literally half-alive, now it became a strange adventure, dark with mystery. She couldnât express it in words⦠it was something she felt⦠something her body responded to which she herself didnât properly understand. School became a shadowy interlude through which she drifted in a dream-like state thinking about the night before or the night ahead. Marjorie, Janiceâs best friend, knew about Kenny and didnât think much of him. In her opinion he was a great lummox. Neither did she like it when Janice stopped going to the youth club on Thursday nights and even less when they ceased to visit each otherâs homes and play records while they discussed boys, make-up and popstars. As for Janiceâs mother, she noticed very little anyway. Maybe Janice wasnât in the flat as much as she used to be, and when she was seemed to spend most of the time in her room listening to soul records, but apart from that it didnât strike her that there was anything markedly different in her daughterâs behaviour. Even when Janice started going away every other Saturday to places like Grimsby and Plymouth and Wrexham she took it for granted that this was a natural stage in the development of a fourteen-year-old girl.
Perhaps if Janice had had the influence of a father (who had died when she was three) she wouldnât have been allowed to roam where and as she pleased. Questions might have been asked, rules imposed, and a stricter watch kept on the company she sought. However, this is hypothetical: the fact was that never at any time was Janice asked to account for her movements, whom she met and what took place. Mr Casson, her teacher, once became concernedabout her welfare and he might have mentioned it at the end-of-term Open Day. But Mrs Singleton hadnât bothered to turn up; consequently Mr Casson lost interest too.
One thing that might have made her sit up and take notice: if Janice had become pregnant, but as this possibility was unthinkable it was simply never thought of. Despite being an avid reader of the
News of the World
Janiceâs mother never once entertained the notion that a fate worse than death could ever befall her Janice.
CHORLEY
ONE SATURDAY NIGHT A GANG OF THEM MET OUTSIDE THE ABC cinema and couldnât decide where to go. They clustered round the brightly-lit entrance keeping out of the slanting rain, jostling one another and making rude remarks about the film that was advertised in the illuminated panel:
The Four Dimensions of Greta
. Inside, in the warmth behind the glass doors, the cashier (an old dear with a hearing-aid) exchanged
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