Page 57 - Exile-ebook

56 AN EXILE OF THE MIND STANDING IN FOR THE BEATLES 57

Two beautiful women at the Ball, Doris Lawrence and her daughter, Jane. Jane and me in the days when wearing a suit in a paddock was normal.

asked me to walk with her to escape worldly-wise, mother to Jane and finery at elegant balls. Jane, with as we spun around the room in a
the amorous advances of a local lad a huge inspiration to me. Jane was her blonde long figure, looked rav- flapdoodle of nuttiness.
trotting forlornly behind. She had the exuberant blonde bombshell ishing in a pale gown as our feet On a bright new day growing warm
a delightful personality unlike any who made such an impression on whispered one-two-three across the and sunny, Jane and I set off to tour
girl I had ever met. I was entranced. that memorable Friday night. polished floors. the country on a Puch scooter Aus-
Toasted sandwiches and coffee The three of us would go for a On one occasion we were trian made. Midge had been stopped
were served in the creative nerve cen- drive in Midge along narrow coun- honoured with the courtly presence in her tracks a few months earlier by
tre of town with its strong thespian try roads, under a cloudscape of of Count von Roxberg, snootily a power pole and was too buckled to
presence, talented and energetic. A cumulus and into the green-purple attired in white tie and tails. This make any journey unless we drove
regular customer, Harry Borley, was hills. A cool breeze wafted down its sartorial splendour padded out around in circles. The scooter had
the librarian’s nightmare. He would sweet smell of silage as we gathered with a cushion beneath a blood a tendency to topple over on loose
take out stacks of books and drop pine cones by the sackful for the fire red sash which bore the Insignia of metal roads, with Jane underneath it
them into the letterboxes of people to toast our chilled feet in wintery Magnificis Twit. Overlarge trousers waiting patiently for rescue.
he thought might read them. evenings. threatened to surrender to gravity as We scootered for several weeks
The coffee bar was run by the vi- We stomped the floorboards at the cushion worked its way loose. My around the North Island with a pup
brant free-spirited Doris Lawrence, local dances and waltzed in all our false whiskers drooped and flapped tent to shelter us from the elements.