John Edward Cooper’s Notes

The diary that I kept for part of 1966 also had pages for January 1967. In the space for Tuesday 17th January 1967 I wrote:

Praise the LORD! OK again.
(Took Aud behind a garage
and cried my eyes out.)
Cried again to her at her house.
(Rain like diamonds on her face.)

Again, the Johannine Writings supply more details (XXII.15, 16):

15.And the next day, while I was sitting on the bus going to school, I saw her walking, in her black PVC leather-look coat. 16.And the grief overwhelmed me and the tears rushed to my eyes; and in this state of utter sadness, fighting back the tears, was I all day long.

So, on the bus going to school, I looked out of the window and saw Audrey walking briskly along, just before the turning into the side street leading to the school entrance. She was wearing her black vinyl coat, the coat she had worn on the ferry to Knott End before I went out with her,[more] the coat she had worn through all those days I had been going out with her. I might otherwise have been sad but tolerably sad that day, but the sight of her—and especially in that coat, now signifying “not-mine”—made tears spring to my eyes, which I had a struggle to fight back. And I was in a dazed, “unreal” state all day. In the sixth-form common room I sat at one point, and the thought of Audrey, gone, not mine, kept coming to me, and I could hardly believe it. And in this state of utter sadness, fighting back the tears, was I all day.
 Johannine Writings XXII.17–19:

17.And when evening came I came down to the small wall in the street where I was wont to meet Audrey when she came out of school.
18.She came out, and I wanted to tell her how much I wanted her, but all I could do was cry and sob. 19.By this time we were by the pillar where I was wont to say goodbye to her.

Normally, after I had met Audrey from school and been to her house for coffee, I would say goodbye to her at the bus stop outside the Queen’s Hotel, Fleetwood. Against the corner of this pub there was a square, brick-built pillar, which afforded a little corner round the back of it, where one could neck before the bus arrived.

 Johannine Writings XXII.20:

20.So as not to be seen, I quickly ushered her down a passage between two buildings.

The tears were already flowing, and I wanted to be somewhere private. So I took Audrey down where there was a narrow gap between a garage and another building or a wall. There, behind the garage I was able to sob until I regained the power of speech.

So, she had a change of heart and decided to continue to go out with me. I can’t remember how exactly this came about; but the next we read, I am in tears at Audrey’s house:

Diary:

Cried again to her at her house.

Johannine Writings XXII.21, 22:

21.At her house she comforted me and cuddled me in an affectionate way that I was not used to.
22.I cried, saying, “It was horrible.”

So, even cold Audrey is warmed at my agony. I wept both for relief and in horror at the grievous experience I had just had that day.
 Both Johannine Writings and Diary record her appearance on that rainy January evening:

Diary:

Rain like diamonds on her face.

Johannine Writings XXII.23, 24:

23.And by our pillar I kissed her goodbye, for I had to catch the bus home.
24.And she looked exceedingly lovely with raindrops on her face which looked like diamonds.