My lovely blogger friend, Ian published a post a while back that reminded me of the long, hot summer I had between leaving high school and starting university.
Just two days after I finished school I took a selection of clothes round to my friend's house for her to borrow on her family trip to Austrialia. She lived on the same road as Mr Delaney. I said goodbye and left her at exactly the same moment that my gorgeous economics teacher was leaving his house. He greeted me very warmly and asked what I was off to do. When I said nothing he asked me if I wanted to go to the pub with him. Of course I said yes! And that was the start of a relationship that lasted the whole of that summer.
Of course, as my teacher (I was 18, he was 28) he probably should have steered clear. But technically, I was no longer his student. We both knew it was something to keep quiet though. He never asked me to but I instinctively knew it was likely to cause trouble and so it was my big secret!
But it wasn't as seedy as maybe it sounds. He was such lovely company and I think he saw me as his very own "Pygmalion" project. He took me to art galleries and exhibitions and the theatre and he even introduced me to opera. We did "La Traviata" long before it was a famous scene in "Pretty Woman". And we went for long romantic walks and picnics. He was a great cook and he made me some fantastic meals on the nights I stayed over. He also introduced me to fantastic sex and taught me just how to make a man happy…. and said that I was a very good student !! Sometimes we just spent days in bed.
I loved the time I spent with him but he was clever enough to make me look forward to university and all the opportunities I would have there to continue to broaden my mind. So, when it was time for him to go back to school I was ready to say goodbye without any tears or angst (well, not much!)
I never saw him again. I heard a few years later that he had been out with my friend's sister for a short time, so he clearly had a thing for young girls but then, a few years after that, I heard he had married one of the games teachers at the school. I was totally shocked because she didn't seem to be his type at all. She was from New Zealand, was at least the same age as him (if not older), had a crazy, mad perm and looked and sounded like a man! The last I heard, about five or six years ago was that he'd had a heart attack and a friend told me that she saw him in town once, looking very old. He can only be in his fifties so that didn't sound good.
I wonder if he ever thinks of me. I'd like to see him again - just to say thank you. He was gorgeous and made a woman of me and gave my confidence a huge boost.
Whatever anyone else may think, I really do treasure those memories.