Page 215 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

I did not look forward to this discussion with Susan in the least. While she
was a lovely person, it had often occurred to me that I had led her on, despite the
fact that I knew that she was not really my type; she came from a family where
Father dominated everything to such an extent that both wife and daughter,
though intelligent, did not feel that they had decision-making roles. I, through
my parents, had been brought up to see the marital relationship as one of equality;
though one did not ‘revere’ one’s partner (too mawkish a term), one respected
their opinion. If choosing between a milquetoast and a firebrand, I would veer
towards the latter … that much I now knew.

I drove to Ilford and spent a pleasant afternoon with Susan. She was her
gracious self, and I was glad to meet her room-mates, all most pleasing. However,
when the crunch came, I balked. I excused myself because of the other girls, a
feeble and weak let-off.

I again travelled to London and sat for the IPMA exam; I thought that I had done
reasonably well (‘The Economist’, if carefully read, could provide anecdotal material
for almost any business scenario that one chose to weave). I was disappointed to
receive notification a few days later that my exam results were good, except for
Corporate Finance, where I was plainly out of my depth. But my ‘passes’ would last
for a year; I could take the paper again. With this I had to be satisfied.

It is perhaps opportune to digress into thoughts about the ‘golden age’
into which I had fortuitously and unknowingly been born, for my life at sea
had occupied the interregnum between the Pill and HIV. Suddenly the former
rendered all sorts of dalliances possible, and the latter, yet to appear, had been
preceded by VD and a few other menaces, most of which could be avoided
without much effort. It was then something of a game; before long it became a
gamble with possibly dire consequences.

My social life now being a desert, I decided that I would again look up
Judith. She was still attractive, well-toned and gregarious (frankly, I could
do a great deal worse). As for intellect … well, I won’t get into that. We had
good times, without doubt, though I was aware that there was another fellow
hanging about waiting for me to stumble; this was a small village with young
people notably absent. However, while I was away at sea, Mother had become
acquainted with a girl who lived only a mile or so away and assisted in the local
grocery while on vacation from university. Mother’s firm recommendation
was that (this) “Judith has lovely ankles” which I thought, even on a mother’s
considered opinion, a basis insufficient for a lustful relationship. She was a
pleasing young lady, and her wrists were pretty good too, but this was not a
relationship that I saw going anywhere; I asked her out once, an invitation that
fell on stony ground, but I saw no purpose in giving her a second chance, and I
saw no special merit to her ankles.

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