Teenage revisited

I have just discovered a couple more days diary from October 1985 (Upper Sixth, rising 18). So, without further ado:

Today has been okay, only I know I ought to be working harder. Only, I can’t be arsed. I don’t even know if I want to go to Oxford. One thing I know for certain is that if I’m only offered a place at a women’s college, I’m going to turn it down. I don’t think I could I stand another three years of bitchy single sex education. Mind you, I did a little bit of Politics before the chart run down. I’m very pleased to see You Are My World in the charts, even if only just. With Cloudbusting, Don’t Break My Heart, a Good Heart and Nikita all going up as well, it’s just bad news that Alive and Kicking has gone down, and I’m waiting for See The Day to chart.

John S my father's colleague and friend came for dinner because he is taking Mummy to visit Daddy in hospital he was having tests which eventually led to him having a heart bypass this evening because she can’t otherwise get there because of the bus strike

I don’t think today is a working day (sorry Mrs Mc et al). After lunch I set out to Manchester on the 41. As I was walking down W. Lane, I noticed Norman Whiteside turning out of M Road.

On the bus it was quite good going through Rusholme etc, all that way, seeing all the students, both Uni and Poly, and just eaves-dropping on the conversations – so different from school people, if you know what I mean.

I alighted from the bus outside the BBC and reported to the receptionist, who told me to wait for Steve Ireland’s the producer of Look North West secretary. As I was waiting, I saw Denis Law. He was introduced to a receptionist as Denis Law and I commented to a man sat next to me that you can’t miss Denis Law. The man said he didn’t live in Manchester, but he had certainly heard of Denis Law. As I was speaking to this man, it struck me that I ought to know who he was – he seemed vaguely familiar, but I can’t for the life of me place him.

Steve Ireland’s secretary collected me and took me up to the second floor. Steve gave me a lecture on how competitive journalism is, how you must be prepared to start at the bottom and work up, how you mustn’t be too proud to do anything, how Simon Cole became head of programmes at Piccadilly because he begged for a job making tea etc.

I was taken to the newsroom, where I was handed over to a fella called David who is a producer’s assistant, but that’s pretty high up. After he had attempted phoning Derek Hatton’s secretary to find out what time Derek and friends are leaving Liverpool tomorrow, I was shown round the complex, and I sat in the vision control room watching Paul Newman interview Eric Heffer (who was in the Westminster studio). Parliament was prorogued today. I also watched John Mundy rehearse for, and then read the news. As I came out of the room he smiled at me.

I drifted around the newsroom, looking at what people were doing, reading all the telex stuff. I went to the vision control and from five o’clock watched preparation for the programme. Walking around, I had noticed Alastair McDonald a few times, and he had smiled. Paul Newman was exceedingly friendly, too, so was Colin Philpott, although I didn’t know it was he until somebody addressed him as Mr Philpott. I wasn’t very impressed by Stuart Hall. It would be unfair to describe him as rude, just uninterested – and very much the star. John was there from five o’clock, or before, getting ready and that, Stuart rolled up at quarter to six.

It was really interesting seeing the programme go out, the controlled panic just before going on air, the faces pulled by Stuart and John, off camera. What’s more, I know I want to be a journalist.

I caught the 41 which by chance came quickly. I was going along happily, just me and this fella upstairs, when suddenly it went off somewhere I didn’t recognise. I turned to this fella and said, “This is the forty one isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “it’s a detour.” Then a bus garage came into view, and we realised that the bus was going there, so we went downstairs and asked the driver what he was playing at. He wasn’t too charming when he said we ought to have looked at the front of the bus. I must confess I didn’t check the destination indicator, but I knew a 41 was due when it came, the timetable confirmed it was going to Woodheys, and it was a 41, not a 41x.

Well, me and this fella were totally lost. By asking about five separate people we ended up by the Post House, and walked right under Princess Parkway bridge to the nearest bus stop. There was a woman –girl –there. We asked whether the 41 had come, she said no, she’d been there since twenty five to waiting for the five to eight bus – it was now a couple of minutes to eight. The timetable said there was at five to, the bus stop said there was one at five to – we were obviously on the five to, he was obviously knocking off, and couldn’t be bothered going all the way to Woodheys and back.

Eventually the twenty five past came, and this girl who’s a first year at the Poly reading Education, this fella, Nick, and I got it. He seemed okay did Nick. He’s nearly twenty three and on the dole. He had no money, so I said use my Clipper Card. He was dead grateful, so I thanked him for getting me through the dark streets of Northenden.

I got home and being ravenous I tucked into a meal willingly and listened to Daddy’s story of hospital. He said there was a Northern Irish woman there, called Mrs McIlroy, who kept talking about ‘Our Sam.’ It wasn’t for a quite long that he realised she was talking about Sammy McIlroy, the one and only.

And, even though I don't do requests, I thought I would write up West Side Story for Jag, even though it took place in November

I got ready to go out, getting all tarted up in my NEW maroon skirt, and old shabby blouse. I was a bit hurried due to time, but I looked neither tarty nor frumpy. Daddy gave me a lift to Brooklands Station – well, the rest of the family were there, and were waiting for Chris, who was going with them to a bonfire. It was weird standing on the station – breezy, wet – in the dark, hearing the bangs of the fireworks. Mind you, my mind took it all in – storing it on the filing cabinet for future literary reference.

The train arrived and I made a special effort not to get in with everyone else, I didn’t fancy being part of a party of screaming school kids. The train got into Deansgate and I made a quick get away, conscious of people behind me. Magda was screaming about ‘where are we going?’ and ‘let’s follow Gert.’ I wasn’t fully aware of who was around. I knew for a fact that if Andrea, Louise and Sam only, I used their surnames were there, I did not want them relying on me to get there, after being so downright rude. In addition, Magda had hardly been decent to me either. I 'AS MY PRINCIPLES, you know. We generally got our way to the Opera House – me, Esther, Magda, Nicola and Steph O, Clare G, Sarah H, and Rachel - and took our seats – I was between Rachel and Sarah. Andrea, Louise and Sam arrived, and I couldn’t help thinking how BORING and STIFF they looked – like three old ladies. Michelle arrived with Terence her bisexual boyfriend, goodness knows what the old ladies thought of Terry – definitely camp, and definitely wearing make up.

West Side Story began, and it was fabulous. The dancing, the music, the scenery, the drama….Everytime the orchestra struck up, a tingle went down my spine. Some of the songs were excellent – the rest were brilliant! ‘Gee, Officer Krupke’ was really pzaz; ‘One Hand, One Heart’ was really sad; ‘Tonight’ was gorgeous, and ‘America’ was…well, it was ‘America,’ raucous, fun and Puerto Rica!

The music for the Dance at the Gym, real evocative 1940s/early 50s jazz. Oh I don’t know what was best. A lot of people went for Sam Williams, who played Riff, I personally thought Michael French (Tony) was more attractive, but for me the real star had to be Jan Hartley, who played Maria. She was so Hispanically dramatic; and she has a gorgeous voice.

I spoiled myself in the interval, buying a vodka-and-orange, and a strawberry ice cream. I had to laugh, I was stood by my seat sorting out my coat and cardigan. Louise, Andrea and Sam had to push past or say excuse me. Most people would have done one or the other; they stood there, obviously refusing either to speak to me, or to touch me.

Hmm, I think I was more concerned with fighting in the Upper Sixth Common Room than the Jets and Sharks....

Where are they now:

Andrea M.

Married to Peter second husband with one son Matthew aged 8. Working as part time GP in Timperley having had some much treasured time out.

Louise:

have been working for Longines Watch Company in Switzerland on the East Coast, according to Judy since 12 years -have been married to an Italian guy called Luca for 9 years - we have a 4-year old daughter, Victoria. It would be great to have a reunion sometime ! no, it wouldn't, Louise, not if you're going to be there

Henah:

Moved to London in 1989. Employed as a Buying Manager in the fashion industry.Have now taken a career break to spend time with my children. I have two boys a six year old and fourteen month old toddler. Moved out of West London last year and relocated to Cardiff with my French partner and children. The move to Cardiff is short term the plan is is to move to Brighton next year.

Aviva:

After going to South Trafford started working for a transport company. I have been married, now divorced and i have an eight year old daughter. Still live in Sale. I keep in touch with Fran. I am about to set up a business with my sister so 2003 looks like its going to be a great year.

Esther:

Qualified as a nurse in Sheffield 1990, moved down south, now living in hertfordshire, married to Gerard ... with 3 children Matthew 6, Joshua 3, Christopher 22 months.

Kerstie:

Left nursing this year and am now an office manager for a real estate company in Florida--been here nearly 4 years now. Married, 2 children and now up to 6 cats!!! (I keep finding strays!!)

Tara:

I'm working in London (St. Mary's) but am just about to move back to Manchester to take up a consultant endocrinologists post at Oldham Hospital. I'll be living in Heaton Moor and am keen to catch up with any old friends. I'm married, with one baby (Dan) who's two in June. Please e-mail for a gossip!

Michelle:

I`m very well. I`m a Solicitor working in Manchester. Live in Knutsford. Still see Elizabeth - I`m Godmother to her youngest child and was her Best Woman at her wedding.Started my own fine art business on the side. I`m called Millie now, as I was renamed at work about 8 Years ago.

Sophie:

Qualified as a nurse from St.Bartholomews Hospital, London in 1990. After two years trained as a District Nurse Sister. Worked in London (and Aberdeen).Married to Sean. Moved to Santa Cruz, Bolivia, South America in May 2000. Learning spanish, travelling and doing voluntary work. The life of the expat wife !!!

Juliette:

I left College in 1987 and worked as a temporary Credit Controller and eventually settled into employment with BUPA Nursing and later BUPA Hospital, I lived in the Manchester area and got married and divorced and moved to Somerset in 1995. Since then I have since been helping my Mother to run her Pub. I have three dogs but no children. It would be lovely to hear from anyone I used to go to School with or work with.

Melody:

I'm married to Tim, no children yet. I am working at a firm of Chartered Accountants in Manchester as an auditor - yawn yawn. Tim is the director of a recruitment agency and calls himself an industrial pimp! Does anyone from our class (Loreto) know what happened to Maureen (Mo) or Frances? contact Aviva - or my mother I would love to hear from anyone who remembers me.

Judy is contactable via Andrea. She is a piano teacher. The last time I saw her was the day after Alex Ferguson announced on national TV that he was thinking of taking up the piano. I instructed her to get in touch. I don't know if she ever did...

Thanks to Friends Reunited