Chapter 17: Deja Fucking Vu! - September, 1961

Friday study was cancelled, since Pauline and I were off to the School Ball, though Aapi and Alison came over to my place as usual, did some cleaning, and got together in my room. I nevertheless cooked for Judith, and she straightened my tie and picked some lint off my back before sending me on my way with an instruction to ‘have a good time’ and an offer to serve me and Pauline with breakfast in bed in the morning.

I was very slightly anxious at the prospect of meeting Pauline’s mum again. She had been thoroughly professional when I was supporting Maureen during her episiotomy, but that was in her role as Nurse Miles, assisting her boss. I wasn’t sure how that fitted with the role of ‘Mother’ relating to her daughter’s regular (but resolutely uncommitted) sexual partner.

It turned out okay. Mrs Miles was friendly, Mr Miles was friendly, and Pauline Miles was friendly and gorgeous in a peach coloured gown which went perfectly with ‘Peace’, the rose the florist had recommended.

Pauline was coming back home to my bed, and I remembered the ‘morning after the ball’ with Robyn the year before, so I reminded her to pack a change of clothes. There was no parking available close to the gym, so we had a walk of a hundred yards or so after parking Harriet. Chick was parking Mr Farrell’s Jaguar, and we waited to walk with him and Susan.

We did the ‘Good Evening Sir, Good Evening Ma’am, may I present... ‘ bit and found a table with a few other First XI guys and their partners. Chick got punch for the four of us and made a big show of presenting Paulines glass with exaggerated gallantry – and ‘Bugger Me!’ she lit up like a bloody Christmas Tree! Shades of Robyn and Jack Gavin!

I didn’t know what to think. The encouragement Pauline was giving Chick was subtle, though she was certainly getting a big buzz from his attention, but I had no idea whether he was actually making a play for her, or uncertain how to handle his attraction to her and going ‘over the top’ with a show of gallantry. I decided to wait and see what transpired.

To that end, I got Pauline on the dance floor away from the band, and tried hard to make my enquiry in a neutral tone. “You fancy Chick?”

“Shit yes, he’s gorgeous!” My reaction must have showed something, because she continued quickly. “But don’t worry – I’m going home with you!”

“So did Robyn!” I shouldn’t have said that, and I realised that it was dumb to go there almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

Pauline was unhappy. “I’m not your fucking girlfriend!”, she almost hissed.

“Sorry – you’re right. We’re both free agents.” I realised the music had stopped, and I ‘escorted’ Pauline back to our table in the approved fashion.

I don’t know whether my foot in mouth precipitated the escalation, hastened it, or whether it would have happened anyway. As Frank said later – ‘Sometimes shit just happens!’ Pauline genuinely had energy for Chick, and he sure had energy for her. He’d had an argument with Susan on the way to the Ball and they weren’t happy with each other. So Chick was pissed off with Susan, and Pauline was pissed off with me, and their limerence (I looked it up) ramped up bigtime.

He asked Pauline to dance. She could, he couldn’t, so they stood close and jigged and rocked along to the music for a fast dance, and then held each other very very close and swayed for a slow one. That was no different (or not very) from what seventy other couples were doing. Just like Pauline and Jack Gavin last year, they behaved with reasonable propriety, but their energy for each other was very obvious and they danced together a lot.

That left me with Susan. She remained pissed off with Chick, and retaliated by grinding her crotch against me when we draped ourselves over each other for slow dances. I was a sixteen year old boy. I ground back, and very soon I was hard enough to split kindling. I don’t know if Chick noticed, and if he did, I don’t know if Susan’s behavior made him jealous. I know that Pauline noticed. As she told me later, she thought it was funny!

Mr Smythe noticed too. He drifted past the ‘First Eleven’ table, and smiled and nodded to everyone, but he spoke to me individually when supper was served.

“First Gavin, now Farrell. You don’t seem to have a lot of luck with School Balls Kerr. Perhaps you’re fated to manage a dating agency.” That bit was relatively sympathetic and friendly, but there was a sting in the tail as he went on. “That would fit with the level of effort you’ve been putting into your studies lately!”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing, and Mr Smythe went back to the ‘Staff Table’, where some slightly fancier food was being served. Fuck Him!

And my irritation and resentment persisted for the rest of the Ball. Pauline said a ‘goodnight’ to Chick that was right on the edge of an intervention from Mr Nicholls. I saw him start to move towards them as their clinch proceeded. They broke apart before he got to them, but Susan was pissed off and I didn’t think Chick was going to get lucky in the back of his Dad’s Jaguar or anywhere else! I was pissed off too.

I wasn’t sure whether Pauline still wanted to come home with me, and I wasn’t sure how, or even whether I wanted to raise that topic. As usual, she rescued me. “Can we back up a bit?”

We had just got back to Harriet, the Farrell’s Jaguar had already gone, and I was confused. “What?”

“You were hurt about what happened with Robyn. I shouldn’t have got shitty.” I tried to say something, but Pauline put her hand on my arm and went on. “It’s perfectly understandable that you were upset when Chick and me were sparking. It went downhill from there. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay that you want to fuck him. He certainly wants to fuck you – but –”

Pauline interrupted. “Who said lightning never strikes in the same place twice? I got a real buzz as soon as I saw him, and when he came on to me and I was cross with you, it was certainly electric.”

“Right now, I’m mainly pissed off with Smythe. He told me I’ll probably wind up running a dating agency, and that was all I deserve because he’s noticed I’ve been slacking off.”

“You have been – but it was shitty of him to get at you while you were bleeding.” She giggled. “He should know that a wounded ego can be very serious!”

The giggle took the edge off her joke, and I was able to drop my pissoff – at least to some extent. “A dating agency could actually be worth thinking about, but in the meantime, you’re going to dally with Chick, I’m dallying with Maureen, and we are both free to follow our fancies.”

“I’ll get to Chick in due course, but tonight, I actually fancy you!”

We went home to my bed, and she proved it. Twice!”

Judith brought us bacon, eggs, fruit salad, and orange juice in the morning, and then sat on the foot of my bed and chatted with us as we ate it. That was nice, and it was good to get to know her a bit better but we couldn’t linger. Pauline had her AYD rehearsal, and I had a couple of hours work for Frank before cricket.

Cricket itself was a washout. We were rained off again before I got another chance to bowl. We sat under the veranda of the dressing shed at Te Atatu (they didn’t rate a Cricket Pavilion), and watched the rain come down.

Maureen was friendly without being all over me, and Chick didn’t come near me until I was packing up my gear and preparing to take Maureen back to the Farrell’s. He was clearly uncomfortable, but I let him stew.

He stood on one foot and then the other, and eventually spoke. “I was a prick last night. I’m sorry!”

I was feeling well fucked and magnanimous. “You turned on to Pauline. Pauline turned on to you. That wasn’t a problem. It still isn’t. Both of you went over the top in terms of making that attraction obvious, but you were mainly discourteous to Susan, and it’s her you need to apologise to. I’m okay with you and if you have a nice time with Pauline, I’ll still be okay with you.” I grinned. “I’ll even drive you home – unless you’re going to Susan’s?”

It was quite a speech, and Chick looked relieved and shook his head, then went off to get his gear, while Maureen looked very interested indeed. “What happened at the Ball? You are going to have to tell me all about that later!”

“Later Sunshine, later.”

I had been keeping my distance from Mr Smythe. I knew better than to be openly insubordinate, surly, or dumbly insolent, but around him I had not been my usual cheery ‘good boy’ self, so when he came over as we were loading Harriet, I was reserved.

“A word David?”

Calling me ‘David’ was a good start. I gave him half a smile. “Sir?”

“Chick was being an idiot last night. I should have had a word with him, and I shouldn’t have poked you about your work.” He grinned. “I’m not surprised you haven’t got too much interest in your schoolwork – what with all the other demands on your time and energy!”

Bulls ‘n horns. I decided to front. “To be honest sir, you’ve got my number. I have decided that I don’t want to push myself to get into the scholarship sixth and then bust my gut for two years to get a scholarship worth forty quid per year more than Higher School Cert.”

Mr Smythe’s grin broadened and he nodded towards Maureen. “And you’d rather socialise with attractive young women than spend all your time swotting?” I smiled and nodded, and Smythe shrugged. “Fair enough, but don’t tell anyone else I said so!”

I drove Maureen and Chick back to the Farrell’s. We had a couple of hours before dinner, and Chick wasn’t keen to swot, but believed he should. Maureen and I went to her bedroom and got naked. Smooching, nipple play, and grinding soon became cock and clit licking. Maureen’s episiotomy was swollen and tender, so I stayed away from it, but she had a couple of orgasms before sucking and jacking me to completion.