Janes Humiliation 2
- 4 years ago
- 40
- 0
Friday 28th January 2005
This evening I took Sarah to the home of Jackie Tomlinson and Terry Hunter a couple of miles the other side of campus. Jackie works in admin and Terry teaches humanities. They've been living together for a couple of years and have decided to get married. Sarah's fame as a wedding dress maker seems to have spread further than we thought and when I had to pop into see the secretary, Jackie waylaid me to ask if Sarah would do her a dress. Of course it is not just a dress for her, but also for the two bridesmaids. The outcome was tonight's meeting, which I guess will take several hours. She'll phone when she wants me to pick her up so I have an evening on my own in the house and can write another of these blogs. I've had this one in my mind for a several days after listening in to the thoughts of a young girl as she read and re-read a pop concert programme.
I had to go into work last Sunday week to start some cultures. I went in early so my day off wouldn't be completely wasted. When the first stage was completed it was still only eight o'clock so I decided to walk to the faculty staff room to make a coffee and write up a few notes during the hour I needed to wait before I could finish setting up the culture. I don't know who was the most surprised, the girl or me. She lounged in one of the big easy chairs and looked startled when I went in.
"Hi," I interrupted her thoughts, "It's okay, I presume you're here with one of the staff."
"Mum's cleaning upstairs," she answered.
"Don't let me disturb you, I'm only here to write up some notes and make a coffee. I'll make you one too if you want one." She shook her head no, and glanced a little nervously at me when I went to a table across the way from her. "I guess you went to the concert last night." I remarked as I pulled the chair out.
"Yeah. Were you as well?"
"No, not my kind of music. Classical is more to my liking," I replied.
"Yuck!" She settled back in the chair. I kept an eye on her while I arranged my papers. I guessed she was about fourteen and developing nicely although wearing baggy jeans and a bulky sweater concealed most of her form. Her face held my attention for a short while. It was small and roundish, and she wore purple framed, oval spectacles, which made her look more mature than I felt she was. Her long brown hair hung down in front of her left shoulder to below the level of her breasts and it had a nice, freshly brushed, sheen. I didn't dare to stare for long and settled down to work.
My notes didn't take many minutes and soon I tuned into her thoughts. At first they'd been about me and she debated whether or not to leave and find her mother but she knew that wouldn't be easy with the security doors. I flipped open my laptop and almost hid behind the screen. Just in case she decided to come and look at what I was doing, I brought up the ulcer pictures that so disgusted the boy on my hotel stay a month or two ago. I also opened a Word document and started making notes on her thoughts. Gradually Jane, (I have changed her a name), became more and more engrossed in the programme she was reading, or more truthfully, she was looking at the pictures and remembering the concert held on campus the previous evening. I've become almost blasé concerning the dirty thoughts of many otherwise seemingly prim and proper women but those of this young girl, by her own admission still a virgin, shocked me.
The mental image Jane projected from the photo she was staring at, was of Ricky Knottshall, the lead singer of a heavy rock band.
She turned the page to another picture of Ricky and a couple of others from the group alongside their bus and surrounded by a host of teenage girls. I heard rather than saw, her shoes softly hit the floor and then she curled up in a foetal position with the programme in her view on the arm of the chair.
The scene in her mind changed to the group signing autographs outside the bus.
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