My Story 9. Normanton High School - Shock - Sex - Drugs - Fame - Girls galore
Woolworths, Pontefract, for a blazer, grey (not quite right but close) trousers, shirt and socks. Plus a load of red 10cm braid, red cotton and needles. Mum did a grand job. The braid went around the sleeves, across the pockets, along the… Six days later; I stood at Cressy’s Corner, 0750, dressed like a traffic light, with all three lights stuck on red. Oh dear, the lads in Featherstone were going to have such fun. I also drew everyone’s attention on the bus, being a newbie who’s uniform was clearly not from the ‘official’ outfitters, at three times the price. Boys had to sit upstairs.
I step off the school bus, anxiety flooding but also exited, a new beginning. I am in Church Road, facing the grammar school, Normy as it is known. I look to my right, east, the old boys school, grand entrance in the middle – no longer used by pupils as Mr Hamilton, the heads, has his office behind – for close on 50 metres, the school lawn sits in front, with a virtual NO BALL GAMES sign ever present. To the far right the Assembly hall, playground size of a big tennis court, and to the rear, the gym and boys changing rooms. Behind me is another road forming a T junction. Dalefield Road, home to the school’s cricket, hockey and athletics track, Dalefield, the same one that would launch my athletics career. The school entrance has three stone clad pillars, double gates and single one, heavy steel, painted black. The school perimeter has a three foot high red-brick retaining wall with stone copings. Behind the wall, a six foot high privet fence. I walk up the tarmac driveway, a large porta-cabin, with lots of windows, and two classrooms to my left. I walk about forty metres, to my right the boys school student entrance, before turning left, off the main drive which runs behind the main building. The pathway is golf buggy width. I see two more porta-cabins, housing four classrooms, mine will be the second one, to my left. Behind the cabins, the girls 1st eleven, hockey pitch, I keep walking, to my right is a high timber fence with gardens and homes behind. I see a large, imposing, brick and stone, late Victorian, two and a bit story building with archways and underfloor parking. I thought it odd looking when I came here for my entrance exam, in the library on the first floor. Above the front archway, ‘Normanton High School for Girls’ had been engraved on a stone lintel. Colin was not in the wrong school, just one year and one term late for the newly combined, boys and girls grammar school. After being given files, forms and timetables he finally made it open a book and …
I struggled at every subject, Amo Amas Am-not any good at Latin, French worse, a ‘new maths’ course looked like computer code to me. One early perk was free school milk, the holding station was next to my classroom. Most days, there was always leftovers that would soon go sour. Colin would recycle the milk into his belly, two-three pints some days. (A lightbulb moment - could milk have been my run fast drug?). I felt a lonely soul; the teacher once caught me flick a girls skirt up with my 30cm ruler and got very cross. ‘learning comes in many forms’, I just whispered to myself. I struggled to understand rugby union and just made the school 100 metre relay team. And then, July 1965, school trip to ….
‘Blue John Cavern [Derbyshire] is steeped in history and old mining equipment is on view inside the cavern. Guided tours are conducted throughout the cave system at short, regular intervals. Each tour lasts approximately 45 minutes to 1 hour during which time a series of magnificent natural water-worn caverns are seen. [bluejohn-cavern website]
One hour of heaven for me. I’m sat on a long, yet narrow boat, in a long, also narrow tunnel, total darkness but next to Elizabeth Braddy, Lissie as she was known. She was pure class, had a ‘bun’ in her jet black hair, a dash of Este Laude; the thought of dating her was beyond my wildest dreams. Aware of her perfume, I turned my head, she turned at the same time, we were kissing, proper kissing, it seemed to last for ever. I was head over heels in love with Lizzie. Sadly, it broke my heart, Lizzie lost interest in me twenty seconds later. I felt a lost and lonely lad entering the summer holidays.
By my second year, the milk was clearly doing the trick, I shot to up 5ft 6 ins, won both sprint races on sports day and made joint captain, with Peter Krlic, of the Under 14’s rugby team. I was still a loner, joined no clubs and, apart from rugby training would be home just after four pm. I spent the entire summer in mum and dads caravan in Southcliffe, Bridlington. I used to hang around Browns amusement arcade. Just leaning on posts and stuff, looking, watching the world go by. Pumping music, dodgems, spinny things and girls galore. I walked with one to the beach and we snogged for ages, till it got to cold and had to go back inside. A name may have been exchanged but no conversation took place. I spent the rest of my days, and nights, fantasizing about Lissie, I was obsessed with her, I knew it was daft but just couldn’t help it. My rising testosterone would be channeled elsewhere …
I started the, Under 15, year with hormones on fire. I was, ‘hot to trot’ and put it to spectacular effect on the rugby pitch, all the way to … “No 8 to play against Wales at Twickenham: Colin Lambert.” I just remember feeling complete elation. I suppose it was my ego. I felt like a king, like a million dollars. That evening, we had all been invited to the officer’s mess for a disco, high on my selection for England, off I went. In my 14 years, I had never drunk alcohol, before that evening; someone handed me a glass of cider, which was so enjoyable that I had another glass and wow, my head was spinning.
To top it all, there was a yummy, sexy looking girl on the dance floor, the daughter of the commanding officer of the base. As 95 % of our group were from, boys public schools, dancing was for ballrooms not discos. I did see one group tweaking each other’s nipples, which I thought a bit odd, hey ho. So there I was, on the dance floor with a sassy girl, two glasses of cider, tipsy, for the first time in my life, and I have just been picked for England. Could life get better? I walked her home, at her front gate she ‘kissed’ me for what seemed an eternity. I remember walking back to the dormitory of 30 beds, climbing onto mine and feeling on top of the world. Wouldn’t you be having just discovered …
Sex, drugs and fame.
Back at school, name in the paper, name read out in Assembly, on stage for some award, and…
I still was pretty fed up. ‘why do girls avoid me’ I asked myself. Self, replied, ‘you do look very odd for your age Colin, your chest sticks out so much you dad got it looked at. You face, not lots, but a few spots and your not very bright. You are enthusiastic, and I’m sure lovable, but diving through the six foot high privet fence, to catch the school bus, hardly sends out the best message, but I love you’.
I am now U16 for sports and five O Levels, grade C or better, needed to enter the sixth form. We moved house, my dad inherited his dad’s side-line job, electrician to a local farmers. The Roberts family were well known; Terry, oldest of many, had a farm at the junction of Ackworth and Pontefract roads, opposite the Junction Pub. He built thirty-two houses on his land, my dad landed the electrical contract to wire them. I helped build, 32 Bedford Close, drilling holes in beams at 3p per hole, I also had a park opposite, Purston Park, for more loner adventure. We moved from our council house and my mum and dad had their first home. Well done mum & dad, that was a huge achievement for a lad & lass from Featherstone.
Once again, I avoided all school activities, other than sports teams, and found solace in Purston Park; always a game of soccer or rugby to join with enough lads to start a game. I was very conscious of the ‘lads’ to avoid but had some freedom. One Sunday, I notice a girl leaning against a tree looking at me, she smiles, I smile back, we went for a walk, hid behind a grass bank and did everything kids do except penetration. I never knew her name, yet this happened on a weekly basis throughout the summer and then one week she never turned up. Back to lonely nights, Lissie never far from my dreams. I wasn't easy sharing a bedroom with my two brothers, Mick (12) and John (10). "Whatever you are doing, stop it” I hear my mother shout from her bedroom late one night. Self-pleasure, making love to Lissie, was hard enough, without my mother filling me with further guilt and shame I stopped, the guilt and shame didn't.
Oh dear, Colin really was a confused, but now, big lad. In modern speak, the big lad was also a stalker, he would follow groups of lads and lasses after school, if the group included Lissie, to the fields where he would watch them kiss and cuddle. I hid behind a bank, 'I know I was stupid, it was only one kiss (by Lissie) but it had had an impact on my life, I was in love with Lissie', is what he just said to me.
Colin achieved very little on the sports field in 1969, he read some books instead. He achieved seven O levels; two grade D, three grade C and two, Geography & Engineering design, grade B. Phew, that was close.
The sixth form changed everything …
another great read Colin , how do you remember that far back and in such detail ??, Peter Krlic thats a name i had forgotten, went to junior school with him ( same class), also remember his younger brother Marko. briefly how did Peter's lifepath go ?
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