Island Hideaway 15 - The Last Hand-Jive

We met at the Woodman pub, at the bottom of the road from Clyne Halls, a couple of nights later as planned and she ended up staying over at mine as promised. She had brought an overnight bag with her, always a good sign on an early date, a good way of avoiding spending the whole evening trying to think of subtle ways of inviting her back to my rooms without sounding too forward/sex-mad ('You should come back to my room and listen to the Warthog song' was the best/worst offer I ever received).​​​

​​​Reader I fucked her senseless.​​​

​​​I bounced around in seventh heaven for a long time, we saw each other often, but not too often. The sex was great and we found we had a lot in common, left wing politics, a dislike of goth music.​​​

​​​It was my first serious relationship, it lasted six months all told, which may not sound much now but it was two full terms, a lifetime in those days.​ In Politics we’d covered the French revolution in less than a term.​​

​​​I introduced Sarah to all my friends, a harder job that you'd think as my friendship groups, small though they were, were scatted randomly, like confetti at the world's most austere wedding. There were my Clyne friends, like John, Chris and Martin from the Magic Roundabout Appreciation Society, Eddie and Geraint, then there were my student radio friends, Eddie again, Kaz, Phil, Shreek; the people from my course, Eddie, Nick, then there were people from the writers group I'd ended up running having scared off the organisers in the first week. And of course, there was Mo, who, other than Eddie, was the only person who crossed all areas of my student life. ​​​

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Thus, Sarah entered my universe, started going to my pubs, listening to my music. And to an extent entered her world. After a suitable period of grace, I was allowed to stay over at her house. Her ex hadn't moved out as promised but he'd started going out with someone else and was now bringing her back to the house, so everything was on the table.​​​

​​​It was during my six months with Sarah that Mo finally split with her boyfriend. She turned up at my room at Clyne one evening, where Sarah and I were sharing a bottle of Hobgoblin and generally putting the world to rights. There was clearly something wrong, her eyes were blotched red. "Men are crap," she said, words that explained nothing and explained everything.​​​

​​​"This is true," I said. "We do our best though."​​​

​​​"I don't mean you," Mo said. "You don't count as a man. You're a, you're a ..." she struggled for the words. "You're a Terrence."​​​

​​​Is it Jeff?" Sarah asked.​​​

​​​"Bastard," Mo said. "I don't ever want to hear his name again."​​​

​​​"Is it thingy?" Sarah asked.​​​

​​​"Yeah," Mo said. "Bastard thingy."​​​

​​​She clocked the near-empty bottle of Hobgoblin and necked it in one swig. "You read about the beer shortage?" she looked at me and Sarah expectantly.​​​

​​​"Do you fancy going down the Woodman?" I said.​​​

​​​Mo paused, as if giving it some thought. "Yeah, why not, I'm young free and single. I might meet someone hot."​​​

​​​Sarah and I exchanged glances, this wasn't Mo speaking.​​​

We walked down the road to the Woodman where Mo necked cider like it was international cider-necking day.​​​

​​​"I ought to go," Sarah said. "I've an early lecture tomorrow and it's a long walk from Clyne."​​​

​​​"How will you get home?"​​​

​​​"There's a bus in five minutes," Sarah said. ​​​

​​​The bus stop was next to the pub. I walked her there and waited with her, kissed her onto the bus and returned to Mo, who had somehow managed to drink another pint during my absence.​​​

​​​"Let's go for a walk," she said, taking hold of my arm and dragging me towards the beach opposite.​​​

​​​It was a still, chill night and there was nobody much about. We walked for a long time, talking about everything  and anything, except Jeff.​​​

She ended up staying over at mine, sleeping in my bed while I crashed in the comfy chair, which, I discovered, wasn't as comfy as its name suggested. ​​​

​​​A week later she started going out with a guy called Eric, a Divinity student hoping to become a vicar. He too was lanky, shared none of Mo’s interests and was happy for her to do her own thing with me, Eddie and the rest of the gang. It was as if nothing had changed. ​​

​​​Things continued to go well with Sarah. I visited her in Oxford over Christmas break and we lasted the whole of the second term. However, something happened over Easter, she kept putting off our seeing each other, changing her plans and making flimsy excuses. She did come down for a couple of days, but we no longer danced around gleefully when in each other's company. ​​​

​​​However, the first day of term we met at the Woodman and she stayed over and things seemed back to normal. Well, nearly back to normal. Though she regularly stayed over at mine, and met me with my friends on my turf, I was no longer being invited back to hers. ​​​

​​​The third Saturday of term we met for a walk on the beach. We got about a hundred yards before she dumped me.​​​

​​​I found out later that she was back with her ex. They're married now, with three kids. You see, there are happy endings. ​​​