First kiss

Here’s the story of my first kiss. It isn’t the whole story - some things were added afterwards, some things have been left out. What’s in and what’s out I’ll leave for you to decide, but let’s start with the bell, the school bell. Can you hear it? Ringing, tolling us boys to assembly, telling us that something is about to change, tolling us that something, something very special, will never be the same again…

At the end of the summer vac in October 1969 after 400 years of female free existence the wholly male world of Lord Williams school changed forever as Carolyn Ward became the first girl pupil in the School's history. You can imagine the buzz amongst the 300 or so boys on that day. A girl in school, who said so? Why? And are you sure? It had to be a joke, but it soon became clear that it was true and suddenly nobody was laughing.

In school assembly that morning Carolyn, standing beside matron in the front row, just to the right of the woman dominated kitchens, was introduced to us by the Headmaster as - ‘the first pupil of the fairer sex to grace these corridors in our long and noble history’ and then Stosh, as we called him, rather stiff-upper-lipedly went on to say; ‘Gentlemen! I trust that you will always remember that you ARE gentlemen and treat Miss Ward accordingly both as a fellow student and as such - an equal.’

Miss Ward, a girl, an Equal?… PHWORRR! Heady statements for such a time and questions abounded; was Miss Ward going to play rugby (and subsequently shower)? Would more girls be coming soon? Did we even have a ladies toilet in our school? But, as things turned out Miss Ward, Carolyn, didn’t play rugby (or subsequently shower), although she did do gym and more girls would be coming, but not until two years later, and yes there was a ladies toilet in school - but it was hidden in the guise of an unmarked cupboard adjacent to the practically all male staff room.

It was odd seeing, expecting to see, even hoping to see a girl around every bookshelf or corner. But after a couple of months of being startled whenever she passed in corridors and hundreds of whispered and very silly jokes about blouses and breasts and continually trying to find an excuse to be in or around the gym whenever she was exercising (in those tight blue shorts and that all too revealing polo shirt) things began to settle down and school life began to return to normal. I don’t think any of us knew why a solitary girl had been admitted to our school, particularly one as shy and quiet as Carolyn, but ‘one just had to get on with things didn’t one’ - so we did and the bell tolled on.

That picture never really did Carolyn justice. She was far prettier in the flesh. She usually had her hair tied back in a pony tail. She was tall, taller than me, and she had a nice smile. She was popular, I liked her, and besides, that picture was taken the first week she arrived at school when she was new and nervous and all alone. The event I want to tell you about happened long after, when she’d matured and made herself up a little, after she’d become used to and familiar with the attention of boys and long after the assembly bell had stopped and the ‘come to’ bell had begun to ring.

A few terms after Carolyn smashed into our all male world, one of the sixth form boys, Doughy Quainton I think, thought it would be a good idea to raffle unusual things for Christian Aid Week. One of Chunky’s far too bright ties, Willy Cooke’s 1st XV rugger captain shirt, even a ‘get out of detention for a term free’ card. Tickets were five bob each, quite a price, but it was a worthy cause and a ‘get out of detention free’ for a whole term card seemed like it was worth it, particularly as I was once given a detention for sneezing in class and when I protested was given a double-detention for my trouble. So I bought a ticket and on the day of the draw was lucky enough to win a prize. Not the coveted detention card, or Chunky’s tie, nor Cooke’s sweaty rugby shirt, or any of the other six or so prizes.

I won the final prize… I won the mystery prize… I won a kiss from Carolyn Ward!

‘A kiss from Carolyn Ward at a time and place to be mutually agreed by both parties’, it said on the sheet of exercise paper that was in the envelope I was roughly handed.

I won’t talk about the outrageous stick I took over it all, nor will I mention the new nickname I was given (Hot-Lips Height, or H.L.H as it became) and I’ll forget the cruel comments that were scrawled on my books and locker (and once on my arse) whenever my back was turned. After all I was only fourteen and she was almost three years older… and I definitely won’t tell you the detail of that kiss, the where or when or how, but I will say this… Carolyn Ward was a great kisser and she rang that particular bell the first time for me.

‘Ding-Dong!’ as Lesley Phillips would have said.