This is not a very long chapter, as the period between separating from my first wife, June, and meeting the woman who was to become my second, Avril, lasted only about six months. It began in the summer of 1965, when I was left alone in the house at Vicarage Wood, Harlow - where I started a diet that mainly consisted of baked-beans, eaten with a spoon from a tin previously heated in a saucepan full of water - and ended on New Year's Eve. To keep me occupied, besides work, I had the Diving Club to attend each week, where I received some sympathy about losing both my best friend and my wife, although not everyone seemed surprised at this outcome. It was at the Club that I met Bronwyn Atkins, who had just joined to learn about diving, a bouncy sixteen-year old, with whom, despite the difference in our ages, I became quite friendly. Perhaps it is too dramatic to say she was a life saver, but she certainly cheered me up on Club evenings and when we went on diving trips, or on visits to my old haunts at Ally Pally Roller Rink.
The first time I had revisited the Rink when bored and having nothing else to do, I was told that the wheels on my roller skates were no longer acceptable, being of the old cup-and-cone type which had ball bearings that could escape and cause accidents. I therefore spent the first hour fitting new plastic wheels containing sealed ball-races, which I was able to purchase from an old pal who still spent his time there. He previously used to do true-ups on his lathe for skaters whose wooden wheels had developed flats, but as these were no longer allowed he now sold the newer version. As I worked, I recalled the first times I had rolled onto the rink with brand-new true-ups of my wooden wheels, and how silky-smooth my travel over the floor felt, but found the same sensation when I finally took off on my new plastic versions. I recalled that it was only members of the Sunday afternoon roller dance club that had previously used ball-race wheels, but as I now had them, and needed a diversion, I decided to join that club for a trial period. I found that its members were much more skillful than I had thought when previously seeing them dancing in evening public sessions, and that some of their maneuvers were quite difficult to execute. A particular bête-noir for me was during the Barn Dance, when attempting a backwards outside edge I always felt I was certain to fall. Luckily, my allocated partner was a large, robust lady, who held me up quite safely, but I did not really enjoy being the weakling of the partnership, and did not take up full membership of the club.
I went back to evening sessions, where I met a young lady named Carol, with whom I enjoyed dancing, and when I took her home for the first time, discovered that she lived in a flat at Turnpike Lane, not far from June's parent's home. On the first occasion that she came to stay with me for a weekend, I decided to abandon my baked beans, and prepare a proper meal. I found the instructions for making a steak-and-kidney pudding in Mum's old cookery book which she had given to us when June and I married, and set about my task. I made the pastry using a packet of Atora suet, and used it to line a pudding basin, before pouring in the contents of a tin of Fray Bentos steak. I placed more pastry on the basin as a lid, and squeezed the sides and lid to make a good seal. Using white string I tied a cloth over the basin, and attempted to put it into the largest saucepan I could find - it wouldn't go in! With shops about to close, I rushed to those at The Stow where I tried to find a larger saucepan, but with no success. After I explained my predicament to the shopkeeper, his only solution was to use a smaller basin in the saucepan I had. I purchased one that looked suitable and rushed back home.
When I got back, I undid the string, removed the cloth, detached the lid, poured out the steak, and peeled the soggy lining from the basin. This process was reversed using the smaller basin, with excess pastry being trimmed away where necessary, and the result just squeezed into the saucepan which had some water already inside. I was just in time to pick up Carol from the station, and brought her home to enjoy some wine whilst I prepared the vegetables to accompany the pudding. I had always loved the way that the pastry swelled up on Mum's versions, and when mine was finished cooking, I saw that I had achieved the same result. However, the saucepan I had used had curved rather than straight sides, as was the 60's fashion, and the swollen pastry had trapped the basin inside it. I had no alternative but to bring the saucepan to the dining table, where I used scissors to cut off the cloth and reveal the lid of the pudding, which was decorated with occasional fingerprints. Luckily the rest of the pastry was fine, as was the ever-reliable Fray Bentos, so we enjoyed a meal that was quite pleasant to eat, but was not presented in the style of a high-class restaurant.
Young Bronwyn had an older sister, Anthea, who was engaged to a chap named Eddie, the catering manager at Harlow's Ten-Pin Bowling Alley. He would treat us to the occasional free meal at the alley, during one of which he heard that I had an empty spare room, and asked if he could rent it as he was about to be kicked out of his current accommodation. I should have taken more notice of why he wanted to move, but expecting only a short letting as Eddie and Anthea were soon to be married, I agreed, and he moved in. Later, on New Year's Eve, Eddie asked if Carol - who was staying that weekend - and I had anything planned, and when we said we had not, proposed that we should go with him to a party being held by one of the members of Harlow rugby club - which he had recently joined. He said that there was an open invitation to the event, and that Carol and I would certainly be welcomed to join him and Anthea, especially if we brought an alcoholic offering. Carol and I had earlier that day decided that our relationship was not really going anywhere, and that we would not go out together any more. Following Eddie's suggestion however, we agreed to attend the party as a couple, but if either of us met someone there that they fancied, the other would raise no objections. Thus it was that we set off to the party to which I later learned that none of us had been invited.
When we arrived at the venue, we joined a fairly friendly group, some of whom recognised Eddie, but the rest of which were unknown to me. So it was that when I was dancing with a rather attractive girl that had accepted my invitation, and I began our conversation by remarking that this was quite a good party, I was surprised when she thanked me for my comment, so she went on to explain that she was Avril, the host, and enquired how I happened to be there that evening. I explained about Eddie's invitation, but when I pointed him out, she said she did not know him, possibly because he was only a new member of the rugby club, unlike her husband who was a regular. When I asked which one of the men was her husband, she replied that he was not at the party, and was off on a skiing trip in Austria with a school party. At the end of the dance number, she left me to attend to something in the kitchen, but leaving me wanting to converse more.
Later, after another, rather energetic, dance, we sat down together for a rest and I queried the rather strange arrangement of her having a party whilst her husband was away. She began to explain the circumstances more fully, saying that they were on the verge of separating, which enabled me to reveal that I would be attending court in about two week's time to get a divorce from my wife June, and that Carol was only a friend. When I looked for Carol to point her out, she could not be seen, and I heard much later that Eddie had taken her back to my home for a quick one! He had asked to borrow my car to go and get some cigarettes, but I had not taken much notice, being much more interested in getting to know Avril, so was a bit vague when Anthea asked me if I knew where Eddie was.
Avril and I spent most of the rest of the evening together, either dancing or conversing about our similar situations, finding that we really enjoyed each other's company. After the New Year had been celebrated, most of the people began to leave, including Eddie who took Carol and Anthea home. The rest of the guests eventually settled down to sleep on the settee, or the mattresses and cushions Avril had scattered on the room floor. I was pleasantly surprised, however, to be led to a more comfortable resting place.