This is very much based on autobiography. I am standing in the hospital room with my dead father looking out the window. Partially it it my own life. Partly it is the people walking past. We knit together.
Excerpt – Bodies in a Window
So for our first date I invited Jenny to this party. We were going as a foursome. I was bringing my friend Rich and she was bringing her friend Pat. Rich was not so much into Kerouac and poetry but he liked good music and knew what was happening. He was a good guy to have on board. We always seemed to find the hip joints and he always found the best bands. I was much too disorganised to do that on my own. I needed Rich to organise me. Rich was hip in his own way, different to me but he certainly knew where it was at.
I’d been at school with Rich. He had been the coolest cat in class. His hair was greased back with a big quiff that was so long it could reach his chin. Right from early on he had liked all the good loud Rock Music, Little Richard and Eddie Cochran. I bought that Eddie Cochran Memorial album off him, and had this cool motor scooter that he’d adapted. He’d taken all the fairing off and lowered the seat by taking away the petrol tank. He’d replaced that with a motorbike tank. Then he’d put these great ape-hanger handlebars on. It was so groovy. Everybody looked up when he rode it through town. It was a real girl magnet. They loved drooping themselves on it, hanging off the back. He was always popular. Rich was a good guy to have around.
The other thing about Rich was that he had well-off parents and was the first of us to get a car. He taught me how to drive. At least he sat there in the front of the car drinking beer while I drove. We just went off for hours driving aimlessly through the countryside. Whenever I asked him which way he’d say – straight on – it’s always straight on. We always got somewhere and found our way back home.
Rich was cool.
The party was a wash-out though. It was as dead as a doornail and Pat and Rich didn’t seem to be hitting it off too well either. It looked like the evening was turning into a disaster. We were sitting around in the gloom rather despondently wondering what to do. It was time to head out of there and nobody had any idea of somewhere better. It was beginning to look as if the pub might be the best option.
To my surprise Jenny announced that her parents were away and she had the house to herself. We could go round there. It sounded a bit too good to be true. I really fancied her and the idea of getting her alone was great. It sounded to me as if we might be up for some action.
We hustled up some beers from the offy and were out of there like a shot. Rich had his foot right down to the floor.
It didn’t quite pan out like I imagined. Back at her place, things went a bit pear-shaped, we sat around talking and drinking beer and having a laugh but somehow it did not develop into any raving sex scene, mainly, looking back, because Pat really did not fancy Rich one bit. Weirdly we found ourselves sitting around bemused while Jenny played the piano to us. Pat read us some French poetry – Baudelaire and Rimbaud – quite cool stuff but all too intellectual and intense the way that Pat delivered it. I was intrigued but Rich was bored to tears. He wanted some action. I did too. I only had eyes for Jenny.
Jenny and I had a little snog before the end of the evening but that’s as far as it went. It was obvious that Pat wasn’t interested in Rich and that put a down on the whole thing developing any further. Rich was not sophisticated enough for her tastes. I wasn’t either by all accounts. She’d made that quite clear to Jenny the next day. To her eyes I was as uncouth as Rich. Though that didn’t come out until later and didn’t seem to put Jenny off me. We seemed to hit it off. I don’t think anything would have made any difference to that. It was visceral.
In some ways, many ways, it was a boring evening but strangely I didn’t find it so. I was besotted with Jenny. Just being around her was good enough for me. Sex was a bonus but did not seem anywhere near as important as usual. When I got home, with Rich’s grumbling in my ear, I was buzzing with Jenny. I’d spent the evening with her and she’d agreed to see me again. What could possibly be better?
Bodies in a Window: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781986269544: Books