1965, the year that changed my life
Holiday in Scarborough — Day Two
Perhaps Monday 19th July 1965
1. It was perhaps the following day when things came to a head. We weren’t in Scarborough Camp when I finally managed to get Pam to talk to me; it was when we went on a bus trip to Robin Hood’s Bay.
2. The bus stop was about a half-mile’s walk from the Camp, just left of where the lane joined the main road. The single-deck United bus which we hailed there, destined either for Whitby, or for Middlesbrough via Whitby — and Robin Hood’s Bay — was painted in a similar red livery to the Ribble buses back home.
 The single-deck United bus, destined either for Whitby, or for Middlesbrough via Whitby… was painted in a… red livery: Both Chris and I had the impression that we went to Robin Hood’s Bay on a green-liveried single-deck bus. He wrote to me in August 2014: “The bus was a United single-decker, and I'm pretty sure its final destination was Middlesbrough. We said that we thought these buses were green in colour, but it seems we must have been mistaken and they were, in fact, red.” He provided me with an internet link to many photographs of vintage United buses, all red, except for the beach service in Scarborough which was green. He continued: “Maybe I was confusing our bus with United's express coach fleet, which I had seen at Victoria Coach Station in London and which were cream and a sort of pea-soup-green.” In 2014, bus service X93, running half-hourly from Scarborough to Whitby and hourly to Middlesbrough, was operated using double-decker buses.3. Who was with us on the trip? Chris remembers that Mary was supposed to be included in the party, but she missed the bus. As it was pulling away, someone asked, “Where’s Mary?”, and when we looked out of the rear window, there she was, running up to the bus stop, puffing and panting, red-faced, glasses at a slant on her nose — and still missing the bus! Chris remembers our relief at her being left behind! It would follow, from the intended inclusion of Mary on the trip, that Barbara and Jean were also with the party on this occasion. And Peter? Neither Chris nor I remember his being there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t.
4. The atmosphere was tense — at any rate with Chris and Hazel, and me and Pam — during the 13-mile journey, which mostly followed the A171 main road, initially traversing farmed and forested wolds then ascending onto purple moorland, before turning right and descending, sometimes steeply, to the bus stop just above Robin Hood’s Bay. Getting off the bus, we turned right and walked down a steep, narrow street winding between tall, narrow buildings and many shop-fronts to the sea. Access to the beach and the sea was by a cobbled ramp in a gap between the buildings.
5. I have a vague impression that when I finally got to be alone with Pam, or far enough from the others to be out of earshot, we were walking slowly on a promenade with a tubular steel fence between it and the sea level down below. There are two possible locations for this: on the high seawall to the north of the opening to the beach; and on the lower one to the south. Anyway, we were walking slowly somewhere, and she seemed to have difficulty finding the right words; there were pauses as she deliberated. I think she was a bit distressed; she may have wept a little on this occasion. She expressed her regret and blamed herself; she couldn’t understand why she felt as she did, but she had been out with — did she say six boys? I know the number seemed excessive, considering that I had thought she must have lived a sheltered life, being a Pastor’s daughter! She had been out with (however many), and it had ended like this each time.
6. Hazel broke her sad tidings to Chris as well; and thus it was that Chris and I, on our return to the chalet, threw ourselves on our beds and cried and wailed. The end of our world had come, almost! Our dreams of glory were shattered. Such was the aching that I felt inside, that I thought I could never be happy again.
7. Their Mum, when she was told, was very cross with them for doing it — perhaps also their Dad as well. It had been Pam’s idea; Hazel was just following suit.
Holiday in Scarborough — Day Four
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