Goodbye Ruby Tuesday.

I guess you thought you'd sweep me off my feet. A young seventeen, what life had I lived until now? London, the big city, city of dreams, or so you thought? . Did you think for just one moment that the naïve girl from a small town would be so overwhelmed she would fall for your debonair approach, a combination of an older man who appeared to know his way around? I wasn't that naïve, I'd heard the tales around the office, you always got what you wanted (or so you thought) but I was about to become the exception from the rule. I really thought I could play you at your own game, in hindsight I was trying to be all of the girls whose lives you had ruined, but to this day, I can't get you out of my head.

Many years have passed but still I can remember the very clothes I wore that fateful day. The mini-skirt was going out of fashion; I wore a deep red maxi-skirt with a crisp white blouse, knee-high black boots and a long cardigan in a similar shade to my skirt. You wore a midnight blue velvet suit with a lighter blue ruffled shirt; you must have thought you were the bees' knees, "Carnaby Street here we come!

On the journey into Paddington Station you kept up a running commentary of all the wonders I would see. Part of me was excited; the last time I'd been to London was a school trip at eleven years old. The other part of me was determined not to become yet another office conquest. We arrived in Paddington at 11.30am and your first stop was to be the nearest pub, softening me up for the grand tour, which would come later. It was quite near to the station, an old-style pub with separate booths and real ale on tap. I noticed the signs and smiled to myself, there could well be an accounting later.
You asked me what I wanted, suggesting a small wine or maybe a shandy. I ordered a half of the real ale, watching your face as you tried to hide your smile. Of course you had to order a pint, it wouldn't have been right to outface a girl.

Three rounds later it was decided to have a meal to sop up the alcohol, we had planned a visit around London's sites. The bar fare was meagre so we hopped into a taxi and had lunch at a place near Piccadilly Square. Carefully you bought soft drinks to go with our meal. My meal was delicious; I hadn't tried Italian food before now. We were finishing up our desserts when the waiter brought a complimentary glass of liquor, well we couldn't just leave it there could we?

We did the usual sites, the bridges, the castle, and the museums, (that was my only choice); I went along with what you wanted me to see. Of course we had to visit Carnaby Street, it was the early 1970's then. Strolling along, hand in hand, I could have wished you were anything but a womaniser right then. You bought me a hat, one of those shapeless creations that were so in fashion at that time. You bought yourself some shirts, gaudy printed patterns that were all the rage then.
I wandered on for a while, looking at the amazing craftwork on the stalls. I spotted a lovely pair of earrings and treated myself to a pair. With my floppy red hat I felt a bit silly but I was determined to carry out my plan.

I couldn't help myself; there was an Indian stall with all kinds of exotic goods, skirts, blouses, jewellery and brightly painted scarves. Somehow you had noticed me fingering them, running my hands through the delicate silk creations. There was one that caught my eye, a deep blue,with embroidered gold designs. I wanted it so much; it would go so well with my light blue dress that I always wore for special occasions. 'Had you seen the dress at the office Christmas party, or was it just a lucky guess?' I walked away with it in a golden bag, your next present to me.

By now we both hungry and thirsty again, we had another two hours before our train left. You called another taxi and soon we were seated in the sort of restaurant, that which made my knees tremble. The décor was discreet, not at all the sort of place I had expected you to know. My guard was down; suddenly I wasn't so sure about my ability to cope with this situation. I rarely ate in restaurants, but I tried hard to put on a show. 'What did we eat?' I think it may have been steak but to this day I'm not sure. I remember drinking a glass of red wine, talking to you about anything and everything. I remember your part of the conversation as well; it's etched in my mind for all time.

An hour before our train was due we sat once again in the same pub, near to the station. Once again I was drinking the dark brew, the beer I had been sipping since I was a young child on my father's land. Now, in sorrow, I fed the jukebox, "Hey Jude, "Waterloo Sunset and "Ruby Tuesday.
We held hands in silent communication, my heart bleeding for you. I still remember the way you held your hand under my chin, tilting it so I could look in your eyes. You were so gentle and so sincere, 'Nobody must ever know', you said and I nodded my head in silent agreement.

On the train you surprised me by producing another gift, a white teddy bear with a blue bow around his neck. I rested my head on your shoulder and felt safe, protected, and secure. I would keep your secret forever; you trusted me and you taught me a valuable lesson, never to jump to conclusions.

I kept your secret for a long time, well past the time when it was okay to 'come out of the closet', how I hate that phrase. My dear Richard, you were a friend, a gentleman, you stayed my friend until your bigoted father took you away from me. I still have Humphrey the bear, the scarf is kept safe, it started to fade a while ago so I wrapped it up in tissue paper. Every time I think of you I think of the love and warmth between us. How I pretended to be your girlfriend, how I even met your father.

Of course I got a lot of trouble from the other girls, they couldn't see how I'd got past "first base with you. It was so hard not to laugh when, in reality, I was spending my time with you, learning how to be a lady, playing endless games of Scrabble, giving you a chance to appear normal to your over-bearing father. It didn't help that he owned the company. When he ordered you back to London after his heart attack. You could have stayed, lived your life as you wanted too, but you were always aware of your duty, and yes, love as well. As the train pulled out of the station I wept, your last kiss lingering on my forehead, your words,' never let anyone put you down' ringing in my ears.

It's been a long time since I last saw you, I will never forget the lesson you taught me and each time I hear "Ruby Tuesday on the radio I think of you. Where are you now, and did you finally find someone to love you, as you truly deserved?
If life is fair (I really hope this true), then you have found love, true love, the kind I once felt when you told me your secret.

I've moved on since then, married twice, divorced twice, but I still remember those days and although my life has had it's ups and downs, still I remember that look in your eyes as you finally left for good. You treated me like a queen, under your wing I blossomed and grew, I will never forget you, I can't ever get you out of my head and I don't even want to try.
© Lisa Fuller. February 2006.