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Bobby and I and what happened. Chapter 8: Bobby in Wales |
By now my husband and I had a car and had bought a
small cottage in Wales because it was impossible to get anything in
London. My
husband often took women for weekends to Wales, and we had what was
called an open relationship.
 What that really meant was that our
marriage had been over a long time ago and we acted a part because
of our child. Sometimes we went to Wales together but it didn’t mean
anything, so I asked Bobby if she would like a weekend in Wales.
Yes, she said, and off we went. That night when my daughter was in
bed we sat in the living room and my husband started his usual
ranting about his war against the system. This was the usual
occurrence to establish his radical left-wing credentials. He talked
about the distressing things that happened to him, also making
jokes, trying to dominate the space with his personality. This was
his standard conversation and years of listening to it had worn me
down, although I hadn’t realised it at the time. Then Bobby spoke.
I’ve had a distressing time too, she said. A few weeks ago my
lipstick rolled out of my bag and fell down a drain and I couldn’t
get it out. It was called Coral Rose. I’ve been round all the shops
in London and it’s out of stock. I have Coral Rose nail varnish to
match my new dress, but now I don’t have the lipstick to match. It’s
been very distressing. All this was said quite seriously. It was not
the camp conversation of gay men either, with its innuendos. What
Bobby said was symbolic. My husband was angry and must have realised
his inadequacy, and went to bed. Now Bobby and I were alone. Then
she made me toast and tea, held my hand, and kissed me. I did not
sleep with Bobby that night. I wanted to but I didn’t. But I got up
early next morning. Bobby was downstairs. Let’s go for a walk, she
said, and we did, and I remember us both with our arms around each
other kissing in a field in Wales at sunrise.   Bobby was courageous.
She was out walking on the streets of London as a woman all the time
and she could have been arrested at any time. She was on the front
line of gender politics in her life style without having to say a
word. Bobby had certainly suffered at the hands of the system but
she never complained. No one even knew what she had been through and
she always supported me as a woman. She was truly political.
Chapter 9: Tears |
| Top two pictures: Wales. Bottom two pictures: sunrise in Wales. |
| Contents How I found out. 1 London W11 in the 70s. 1 |
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