Mel

I remember the feeling.

That nervousness that comes with doing something new and totally unfamiliar for the first time.

Something that is unavoidable no matter how much you want it to be.

I was nearly fifteen when we moved house to live in a village eighteen miles or so from the little town I had lived in since I was five.

I left the home I had known for most of my childhood.

The home that was just a short stroll from friends houses, youth club, the bus-stop where we would catch the bus a short way to the weekly disco on friday nights, the local corner shop at the end of our road, the town cinema which was affectionately known as the Flea-pit and the library which I loved.

All things familiar to me where the changes happened that were part of my journey from innocent childhood to not quite so innocent adolescence.

Fortunately I didn't have to change schools but I could no longer make the six mile round trip from home to school and back again, walking with a friend whilst discussing important issues such as the easiest way to modify our school uniforms, what we were wearing to the next disco, the best way to apply eyeliner and who had 'got off' with who.

The last stop before arriving at school was the little shop where we would pool our loose-change, filtered from the dinner money given to us by our far too trusting parents.

We usually had enough to purchase a pack of 10 number 6 and a packet of polos to share.

Yes, at nearly fifteen I was a social smoker.

Couldn't stand it really but in the eighties it was compulsory if you liked to consider yourself a bit of a rebel. (Albeit a rebel without a clue!)

After the house move I was to catch a bus.

A bus full of kids who attended a different school.

Complete strangers.

This was the stuff of nightmares for a nearly fifteen year old girl who was a bit of a leader within the comfort zone of her established group of friends but a little unsure of herself in the company of strangers.

8.10 am....I stood at the bus stop, wearing my obligatory too-short school skirt, black woolly over-knee socks, black Monkey-boots, white school shirt and denim jacket (Levi red-label of course!) which I could just about get away with calling school uniform providing I wore a school tie (tied in whatever was considered to be the cool way at the time).

The senior school which I attended was 'a bit lax' to say the least and having kids attend regularly was considered an achievement. Their attire was not really a priority......which was fine by me.

The bus stopped.

I got on, glancing around quickly, making sure that I made eye-contact with nobody.

There was no way I was sitting at the front with the geeks but I knew better than to head for the back where only the most respected, popular and cool kids would be sat.

I opted for an empty seat about three rows from the back.

I sat down, desperately trying to look at ease but actually feeling as if I had a huge neon arrow above my head with the words 'NEW GIRL' on it in flashing letters.

I rifled in my school bag for my rather battered pack of Embassy Number 1's ( I had moved on from the Number 6's in an endeavour to appear a more accomplished smoker) and 'sparked up'.

A tap on my shoulder filled me with terror....I surely couldn't have upset anyone already.....I had avoided all eye-contact!

I turned to see a girl with crimped brown hair and big brown eyes perfectly lined with black kohl liner......she had a huge smile....

"Are you Sarah?" she asked.

It turned out, she knew a boy I was friends with and he had asked her to look out for me.

"Come and sit at the back with us"...........

And so began my friendship with the loveliest, funniest, kindest girl you could ever meet.

My best mate Mel.

We became very best mates which was lucky as we were the only two girls of our age in the village.

Mel soon introduced me to the rest of 'the gang' who lived locally.They were an interesting and rather eclectic group of lads.

One of them, a very good-looking mixed-race lad nick-named Chalky went on to be my first love. Chalky was probably considered a bit of a novelty in our village as he was the only person who wasn't white! He was lovely and my first 'proper' boyfriend.

There were a dozen or so of us altogether but only about half a dozen of us who hung around together every night.

Our choice of places to hang around was very limited.

The rec, the bus-stop or 'The Shed'.

The Shed was an old unused chicken-shed in a field on a nearby farm.

It wasn't at all smelly and was perfect for sitting and chatting in when the weather was bad.

Many good times were had in that shed.....fairly innocent on the whole and in some ways essential for a not-too-naive passage into young adulthood.

Over the following years Mel and I remained best friends.

Long hot summer days, walking to the village outdoor swimming-pool wearing our beloved indian sandals and bikinis under indian shirts and cut-off jeans.
Days spent in Mels' big house on a hill, listening to Rush, Bad Company, Van Halen, Led Zep and AC/DC.

Bus rides to Gloucester to purchase our indian shirts, skirts and sandals from the market.

Motorbikes, crazy weekends spent at the cottage Mel rented with a long-term boyfriend when we were eighteen, Southern Comfort and drunken impersonations of Tina Turner and Mick Jagger.

I absolutely love that girl.

We have seen eachother through some very bad times but we have also laughed SO MUCH.

We were always on the same wavelength and totally understood one another.

Pissed eachother off a bit sometimes.....

Mels' total disorganisation and laid-back attitude, bizarrely coupled with slightly neurotic tendencies drove me mad and my constant need for routine and slightly autistic tendencies frustrated her a bit.....but we never ever fell out.

We have always managed to make eachother laugh and enter our world of Sarah and Mel where all bad things never seem quite so bad after all.

In the earlier years of our friendship we planned our future with all the naivety and romanticism of two very optimistic wanabee-hippy dreamers.

We were going to live in a big old house in a field in the country.

It would be a communal hippy-house, we'd spend our days drawing, painting and being creative and our nights sat around campfires talking and singing along to someone playing a guitar.

To pay for anything we might need (ie; indian sandals, skirts and shirts, incense sticks etc,etc,) we would sell our creative masterpieces at local markets.

What wonderful dreams.

Regular readers of my blog will know some of my life-history since leaving home. Mels' has also been quite eventful.

The long-term boyfriend Mel had back then ( I'll call him J ), was diagnosed with Hodgkins disease. He went on to have intensive treatment including chemotherapy which resulted in him losing every hair on his body.

Mel nick-named him Morph when this happened.

They had a fantastic , fiery, passionate relationship and the two of them along with myself and my boyfriend at the time had some amazing times together.

A trip to Hay-On -Wye to look around the book shops that turned into a mad hike in the hills collecting magic mushrooms in J's woolly hat springs to mind....

Mel later went off to Europe which is when their relationship came to an end. She lived and worked in Crete for a while.

This was during the first few years of my first marriage.....

J went on to find happiness with someone else and was married but the bastard cancer finally took him from this world a couple of years ago.

Mel and I and many other old friends went to the funeral which was sad beyond words.

J was really was one of those people who had a genuine zest for life and deserved to live forever. No bullshit.

Mel is now a fantastic Mum to four boys and is still as funny and lovely as she ever was.

I can't write too much about our lives since leaving home as I would be sat here tapping away all night but suffice to say that we are both busy Mums getting on with our day to day lives, leaving very little time to get together and catch up.

Also, too-laid-back Mel has never learned to drive which doesn't bloody help!

So, after all this reflection all I really want to say is.....

"I miss you mate!"

loads of love,

Sarah X

I tried for ages to upload a scanned photo of me & Mel at a bike-run in 1998 but my blog was messing me about so I gave up and went to bed!