Previous story: Sunday 8th January 1967
I considered, in fantasy at least, the prospect of finishing with Audrey. Johannine Writings contain a recollection of this “Emancipation” project (XXIII:4):
4.And I had in mind, owing to her undue coldness, to emancipate myself from her, and by some means finish going out with her.However, neither reason nor opportunity for “emancipation” arose, because events took an unexpected turn.…
This is what the Johannine Writings say (XXII.9–13):
9.One day, we had come out of school, I from the Grammar School and she from Bailey Secondary, 10.and we were round at her house in Leighton Avenue.After school I used to walk up Poulton Road, Fleetwood, and lean against the garden wall of the right-hand end house in the side street, York Avenue, which led to the entrance to Audrey’s school.
When she appeared we would walk together up to her house.
This particular evening, we must have followed this usual procedure. I don’t recall anything strange in her manner, but I do remember that when we were in the drive at the side of her house, she faced me and said, “John, I don’t want to go out with you any more.”
Ah! I thought. An opportunity for “emancipation”! So I immediately replied, “I don’t want to go out with you any more.”
14.But all that evening, and especially when I went to see Chris and heard the song which went— She wakes up… should have lasted years: a Beatles song, from the long-playing record Revolver; probably Chris had borrowed the LP and played it to me on his Dad’s “scrawpy” record player.She wakes up, she makes up,—I longed with all my heart, yearned for her.
In assessing my emotions for the “emancipation” project, I had badly miscalculated. I had been thoroughly fed up with Audrey’s lack of apparent fondness for me, but it hadn’t entered my head how intense the withdrawal pains would be if I lacked Audrey herself.
Tuesday 17th January 1967
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