John Edward Cooper’s Notes

…A bit of sad news: My young girlie in the office, Maureen, who you spoke to on the phone is off work quite poorly. She went on some coach outing at the weekend with a youth club and collapsed. Apparently, it’s all tied up with some throat trouble. She went into hospital a bit back with tonsilitis and was there three weeks yet they didn’t take them out. She’s now got a repetition of it, only worse, and she can’t speak or swallow very easily. It must be a bit rough for her as she spends half her life chattering. Such a sweet little girl, as well. She seems to have taken an interest in you too, by the way, since your brief conversation. She asked me several times if you were likely to come to Hull. Why don’t you send her a “get well” card with a letter inside? That’ll give her a surprise. Her name and address is: Maureen Hume, 8 The Beeches, Goddard Avenue, Hull. You don’t have to, but it’s only a thought. Perhaps I’m trying to be too much of a cupid.…

…Hope you had a reasonable journey home on Tuesday. That train looked a bit full! It was good, you being able to come back to Hull with us. Shame that you couldn’t stop a bit longer. Well, you certainly seem to have made a good impression during your flying visit. Maureen was quite struck on you and kept asking me about you all Tuesday afternoon. It seems that Margaret was quite taken by you too — which will be of greater interest to you. Did you receive a letter from her, by the way? She said that she’d written to you and asked Pamela your address. Hope it was a promising letter, anyway.

…By the way, friend Margaret’s twenty-one in September and she’s having a beach party at Tunstall (near Withernsea) on the 4th September. Don’t know if it’ll be any good but we went to one there last year and it was OK. It’s an ideal spot, really; and they built a big fire, in which it was attempted to bake spuds. Anyway, you’ve been cordially invited. Don’t know if you could make it, as it’s rather near the holiday, but the invite’s there if you did want to come.

…Regards your forthcoming visit a week on Friday: Margaret (the delectable) is having her party on Friday night instead of Saturday night, so if you come on Friday afternoon it’ll make little difference. We can go out somewhere else on Saturday…

…Also, she has got a bloke, so [I] don’t know what the “getting off” chances are. Probably there’ll be chances for some flirtation, even if not prolonged. Still, you’ll soon find out, and there will be other girls there, I suppose. There was such a good supply at the last one but it wasn’t bad.

What a fantastic weekend! I shall now recount it.
[At] lunch-time, [I] left work [and got a] train [from] B[lack]pool [to] M[an]c[hester] and [from] M[an]c[hester to] Hull. [I had a] reasonably comfortable journey; I read [for] most of the way. There was a large widow from Eccles in my compartment, who talked to the people who came in and went. [I] arr[ived at] Hull, 5 [o’clock]-ish. Chris met me [and we] walk[ed to] his place.
[At] 7 [o’clock]-ish, [we walked to] “Station”* [and got a] bus [to] some place out in the wilds. I was by this time quite nervous. We walked a mile or two to Wawne, a “dry” village,† and at the [village] hall, there was Margaret.

* “Station”: Hull Paragon railway station. The locals called it “Station”, saying, e.g., “I’m going to Station”, not “I’m going to the station.”
† A “dry” village”: i.e., a village not having a pub.

I met for the first time plump Carol Hopkinson, [the one] with the voice! She and Marg[are]t went away, so Chris and I walked down to the church to meet Maureen, [who] works at Chris’s [office] (I met her at lunch last June; [she is] rather nice-looking), [her friend] Maureen, [who is] not s[o] nice, [and] Pam. [They had arrived] in [a] car.

[There were] not many at [the] party at first, but soon things began to warm up. What a fantastically enjoyable party that was! There was dancing to the music, and after a bit Margaret, looking nice in a long blue dress, asked me to dance, which I, with hesitation at first, did.
A creep called Andrew, with [a] red shirt, was there, with the intention of flirting with Maureen. I think he’s in love with her. Anyway, because Margaret seemed unattainable, [being] with Steve her fella and all the other blokes she was being friendly with, I had my sights set upon Maureen. So I was just a little displeased when this fellow [Andrew] took Maureen out, round the side [of the building], xx. She was in rather a state of inebriation. Anyway, I managed later on, after due consideration, to lure her away from him by dancing with her, and then taking her to my table.
There was a Conga, and as she was swaying and nearly falling (in fact she did fall once in the hall and I picked her up again), when we all went outside [carrying on dancing the Conga], I kept her outside and we walked out in the fresh air and sort of talked and xx. V[ery] nice, too, it was; she is attractive and pleasant. While out, we met Chris [with his] arm round [and] walking w[ith] the other, not-so-nice, Maureen. To my consternation, however, Andrew and his friend later picked up Maureen and Maureen again and took them home. Sssss! I danced with Pamela once or twice.
At one point, Margaret came up and sat on my knee; this quite ravished my heart, xx. I wanted someone to take out tomorrow night: I preferred, of course, Margaret; I had asked Maureen, thinking [that] Margaret [was] unattainable ([she’s going out] w[ith] Steve, see), but she had said she was seeing a fellow from London who had chatted to her on the phone, so couldn’t come out [with me]. So I asked Margaret, “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” She replied she was going fishing. Anyway, as she was leaving my knee, to mix [socially] and play hostess, she said that if she wasn’t doing anything she would give Pam a ring. Oh, the hope began to glimmer then—! (“Oo, I do hope she’ll come out tomorrow—!”)
When the time came for Margaret to cut the cake, I happened to be there at the table. I got on the photos with her, therefore; and she, in a slight state of inebriation, obeyed my suggestions as to how to cut the cake, and what to say when the microphone was given her.
Once, I noticed that John, Carol’s bro[ther], was looking lonely sitting by himself, so I invited him to our table, and he came.
When the party was over, we said “Goodbye” and “Thank you” to Margaret, who was sitting or lying dazed in a chair. Her tongue was in a frightful furry state. We (Chris, Pam and me) walked down to the junction [and] phoned a taxi; [we] were joined by a couple of blokes from the party, who were more inebriated than we; and so we gave them a lift in [the] taxi. The driver was reluctant to take five of us, but he did take us [and went] down the back ways. [We arrived] back [at] Chris’s, Chris and I.
A really fantastic, enjoyable party.

Aft[ernoon]… At “Station” I telephoned Pam, to see if Margaret had telephoned; she hadn’t. I was v[ery] nervous now: should I in fact ring Margaret and ask her out? I didn’t want to put her off me by annoying her unwantedly. Anyway, impulsively I dialled her, and asked her if she was going fishing. She said not, so I asked if she was doing anything, and would she like to come out with me. And so it was arranged — so easy! Oh boy, I nearly died with excitement: Margaret was coming out with me! Wow!
My euphoria was short-lived: when Chris and I were walking back to his flat with Pam, he became angry and started nagging at Pam about her not standing up for herself… She showed no signs of upset till she got to Chris’s, then she began to cry… Well, she went downstairs in tears… He blocked her way to the front door, because she was needed if Margaret were to come out with me.… He softened a little in what he was saying, but she was determined to go.…
I went to the telephone box in Spring Bank and explained to Margaret what had happened. She said to tell Chris she wouldn’t come out unless he made it up to Pam. I was a bit dismayed; I thought that would be impossible. Anyway, I carried her message, and Chris immediately left for the Markwicks’ “second” residence, where Pam had gone.

I stayed [at Chris’s flat] and got ready, notwithstanding this mishap, to go out. At around 8 [p.m.] — Chris having been gone quite a long time — I phoned Margaret again with an “interim report”. Back at the flat, some min[ute]s later, I heard the doorbell ring. [With] heart missing a beat — “Is Pam with him?” — I nervously went downstairs. Seeing only one figure, I felt somewhat dismayed, because I did so want to see Margaret. What a pleasant surprise, therefore, on opening the door, and seeing Pam there behind Chris! I was overjoyed, and my joy was full as we all went upstairs… So we went to “Station”, and I phoned Margaret to tell her we were coming.
[It was a] bus [ride and a] walk to her house. And there she was! How lovely: her long (waist-length) blonde hair! [She is of] small size and compactly built. Her pleasantly featured face with generous, kissable lips! Her voice has a strange accent: at once the common accent but also pleasant to listen to. Anyway, she has taken my fancy and ravished my heart. After coffee, we decided to go [to] their “local”.
Walking down there, [I had my] arm round her. However, my strides [were] too big for her, so we held hands. Trouble is, she doesn’t like my hand to be at the back. [It was a] bit quiet there [at the pub]. After some time [we] came back to Margaret’s. Walking back, I took pains to make small strides — xx, oh, marvellous she is! — because she is only small: barely over five f[oo]t, she said. [We had] chips from a chippy, and a cuppa.
Later, [a] taxi [was] phoned for. When it arrived, I kissed her goodbye at the door, hesitating till she urged me to go. What gorgeous kisses she gives! She promised to write this time, and seemed affectionate.
In the taxi, and then walking from Pam’s to Chris’s, I was utterly lovesick!…

…Glad that you enjoyed the weekend and that you were able to come. It was pretty good, wasn’t it? At work this morning Maureen was full of apologies for allowing herself to be ushered off by “those creeps” (as she referred to them) on Friday night. She said they [i.e. Maureen and Maureen] were rather worried about getting a lift back but she was hoping that you’d go over and drag them away from them or something, and offer alternative means. Anyhow, [it was] just one of those things, I suppose. Glad that you were rewarded better on Saturday night…

It’s a shame you couldn’t persuade Margaret to come with us. [I] think she’s already booked to go away somewhere anyway. Still, it might be worth a try…

Have you had a reply from Margaret yet? She said she was going to write back to you but was a bit tied up that last week. She was saying something about coming over to Blackpool to see you sometime on your invitation. She was dead keen about it and wanted me and Pam to come along with her… By the way, she wouldn’t be able to come to Austria with us anyway as she’s booked up to go to Spain…

…Aft[ernoon: I went] down Beechwood [Drive, to the shops,] to send a spray of flowers to dear Margaret [with the message:] “Sincere regrets that you couldn’t come along.”