he helped me when I was moving the gear. Unlike Bobby, I hadn’t a clue about the rules of the game and I still thought he was just being friendly.
When Speedy announced we were touring to Southampton, Roger surprised me by going in a sulk. ‘You’ll be up to all sorts down there,’ he said gloomily.
‘What do you mean?’ I had no idea what he was on about, but he didn’t enlighten me—just stomped around in a mood.
He came to wave us off the night we left and said ‘Have a nice time,’ but his voice didn’t sound very cheerful.
‘If I can’t be good, I’ll definitely be careful,’ Bobby joked and Roger glowered at her. We waved at him from the window as we drove off.
I enjoyed Southampton. Vicky and I went to see the boats in the dock and watched as a huge liner came in. The shows went really well and at night I fell asleep listening to the horns of the ships on the Sound.
A week later, after a run of shows, Roger was waiting when we got back after the long drive north. He was standing in the space right beside where the bus parked and he had a face like fizz.
‘What the hell happened to you?’ he demanded. He seemed really upset.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You could have called, you know. I was worried.’
‘But you knew where I was,’ I said, astonished. It had never occurred to me to call. No-one had ever cared where I was. When I moved to Belle Vue, my mother didn’t even ask where I was going to be staying.
‘What did you do?’ Roger quizzed me.
‘You know what I did. We did the show.’
‘And after?’
‘Had something to eat. We had showers over at this house. Speedy organized it. I went for a bath two nights.’
Roger had a tortured expression on his face. ‘I bet Bobby went out.’
‘Yes.’
‘With men?’
‘Yes.’
‘But not you?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
I thought that Roger caring about where I was and what I was up to was sweet. I didn’t mind at all. I’d seen Bobby playing one guy off against another and making herself tantalizingly unavailable but that kind of thing was in a different league. I was extremely naïve. I don’t think Roger ever realized that.
‘Next tour you have to ring me every day,’ he insisted.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘If you like.’
A couple of weeks later Speedy organized a few days at Paddock Wood in Kent. We’d been there before and I liked it. There was a phone box just up the road and I made sure I had lots of change so I could call Roger. When I rang him in the evening he quizzed me about every second of my day and sulked when I told him that Bobby had gone out with a couple of guys after the show.
‘And what did you do?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘Go back to the bus to bed.’
He didn’t believe me. ‘You’re staying in on your own?’ he asked in disbelief.
‘Yes.’
No matter how much I tried to reassure him, he never seemed satisfied and I simply felt confused. I was desperately trying to figure out what was going on. I knew he must like me. We spent a lot of time together; surely he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t enjoy my company? So why was he quizzing me like this? I concluded that he must care about me and that in some way, I was doing something wrong. ‘I must try harder to please him,’ I decided. There was something about it all that felt forbidden and dangerous. I knew I was out of my depth, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
When we got back to Belle Vue after that run, I went to find Roger. He was polishing his bike but as soon as he saw me he leapt up and pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. No one had ever hugged me that way before and my eyes welled up with tears. I could hear my heart pounding. It was a very powerful feeling, being surrounded by him and held like that. In the past if anyone had got that close to me it meant things were about to turn violent. By contrast Roger’s arms felt tender.
‘I missed you so much,’ he said and he kissed me.
My knees almost gave way and I kissed him back and put my arms around his waist. There was no room for any doubts. I felt completely engulfed. This was something very private and very beautiful.
Roger drew back. ‘I’m glad you’re home,’ he said with a grin and I couldn’t stop smiling either.
A few minutes later I was watching the show from the sidelines. Roger was practically fearless and very, very accurate. You had to admire his riding skills. When the show had finished and the audience were clapping, he looked over to me and he winked. I had never felt so special.
‘So is this it?’ I thought to myself. ‘Is this what everyone goes on about, what all the pop songs are written about? I suppose this must be what love is.’
After that Roger took me with him almost everywhere he went. I couldn’t quite believe that I had a boyfriend. I felt like an actress playing a part. But this, I told myself, is what it must be like to be normal. It seemed very abstract, like a strange kind of dream.
Roger was handsome and we had a lot in common. We both enjoyed the atmosphere at Belle Vue and shared the excitement of being daredevils. Most of the time we nipped off and went on a ride if we had a spare hour here or there. We didn’t ride on the rollercoaster—none of the fairground people ever did—because the maintenance guys told us it wasn’t sound and there had been some horrible accidents.
Instead we rode the dodgems, the caterpillar ride or the carousel. Sometimes we’d pop in and see friends on other shows—such as Kiki and Pepe, who had a children’s zoo with miniature, black poodles that were trained to have picnics or push each other around in a toy pram.
This kind of easy acceptance was a dream to me. Sleeping on the cold floor of a shack in an alleyway when I was homeless I used to make up stories about falling in love, having a family and being married with kids of my own. It kept me going through the long, cold, sleepless nights when I was shivering and ravenous. If I hadn’t eaten for days I’d imagine sitting down to a family meal or even serving up food to my own children. The raw material for these fantasies came from films that I had sneaked into at the drive-in movies. I particularly loved Three Coins in a Fountain and Mardi Gras with Pat Boone. The stories I conjured up were about a perfect life in which everything worked out for me.
Now, with Roger, at least some of these fantasies seemed to be coming true. When he kissed me I felt almost completely overwhelmed and when we went away touring, I couldn’t wait to get back to see him again. But it wasn’t quite as rosy as the Hollywood-tinged storylines that had brightened the dark midnight hours when I was sleeping rough. The way he spoke to me sometimes made me feel totally inadequate, as though I wasn’t as good as him, but I always thought this was my fault because I felt so separate from everything and everyone. Intimacy of all kinds was completely new and I blamed myself for not managing to make things truly perfect.
One Sunday Roger took me out on a surprise date after the afternoon performance. I had no idea where we were going and he refused to tell me. We took a bus to the suburbs and on the way Roger eyed my outfit critically, adjusting the collar of my blouse. A few minutes later we got off in Wythenshawe. Without saying a word, Roger turned down a street and I followed obediently. He stopped outside a brick