Getting to Know One Another Sheila had been in hospital for about a year, when a decision was taken to move the younger disabled elsewhere. The authorities felt that conditions would be better for them in another geriatric hospital just outside the city. Indeed, Sheila was quick to tell me how much nicer the new place was, compared with where she and Jack had been living. She also told me of the Relief Care Scheme, whereby disabled people could be taken into hospital for short stays while families had their holidays. Coincidently, my family had received an invitation to stay with some friends in Scotland. I heard Mum and Dad discussing how to cope with getting me and my wheelchair up the stairs to the first-floor flat, but somehow, I did not feel happy with any of the arrangements. Only a few months since my illness, I still tired too easily to do much except live quietly. So, not wishing to offend my parents, I gently told them what Sheila had said. I pointed out how nice it would be for Sheila and me to have a couple of weeks together. What is more, my family would find it easier to go sightseeing without me. My parents agreed quite readily, and I wrote to the hospital myself for an admittance during that August 1955. So it was arranged. We had no car of our own, so I had to travel by ambulance. Little did I realise what a great effect that short journey would have on my whole life! The hospital had been converted from a large old house, formerly owned by a local business man. It stood amidst beautiful gardens and rambling grounds, which included a pleasant little lake secluded by trees and bushes. Indeed, the setting could scarcely have been more inviting, under the circumstances. The elderly infirm patients occupied the two upper floors. However, Jack and three other young men were privileged to live downstairs, at least for the time being. Their bedroom, with its panelled walls and concealed lighting around the ornate ceiling, seemed ideal. French doors opened on to a covered balcony, which in turn overlooked sunken gardens. During the day, Jack and his friends would sit in the balcony window of a larger room, where Sheila and I joined them. I began to see Jack in a new light. He was always doing funny impressions of people, and making witty puns. He made me laugh, and I began to enjoy his company. He was warming towards me. We frequently asked to be put side by side at the end of the balcony, so as to be alone together. We got to know each other a little better each day. Jack admitted much later that he was feeling more and more attracted to me. At twenty-five, he was much wiser than I, but said that he liked my commonsense manner. He had usually found girls to be rather frivolous. We talked and talked about everything. I received no direct complements for Jack was not gifted with a tongue for flattery, but what impressed me about him was his steady acceptance of life in general. I was never really aware of his handicapped state: only of the warmth in his eyes as they met mine. My heart seemed to flip, and I blushed easily. Secretly, he enjoyed this new found power, which previously he had thought he lacked! We still remember when Jack daringly touched my hand for the first time, and I snatched it away, amazed at his brashness! We have often smiled since when comparing the incident with modern-day standards! But for us, those feelings being aroused were strong and real. Whereas before I had only been amused by me friends' excited chat about boy-friends, now I could understand the full meaning behind it. I had mixed with boys before, making one or two close friends, but nothing was ever as exciting as this. Jack was the nicest person to be with. He had the kind of dependable character that I liked, yet possessed an audacity which as time passed was to capture me completely. But for now, all it did was to play havoc with my emotions, and make the world seem a much happier place. Leaving Jack at the end of that fortnight was to be the first of many painful partings. At home that night, I cried. But I cherished the wonderful secret of our friendship. After a few days, I calmly informed my parents that I, too, wanted to leave home, and live in the hospital! Not revealing my true reasons, I simply said: "I may as well go now while I want to, as later in life, when it could be harder." Mum and Dad were clearly shaken by my request, scarcely knowing how to cope. Initially, they seemed to accept the idea, perhaps hoping that I would change my mind. But as my plans reached some conclusion, my father became very determined. "At seventeen, you are not allowed to make those kind of decisions. When you are twenty- one, you can do as you wish. But until then, I'm keeping you under this roof," I was angry, and miserable. Jack's reaction to it all, as revealed in his letters, was more philosophical. He consoled me by saying that it was for the best. "You're better off living at home, really." I settled down gradually, living from one letter to the next, as we each wrote every other day. It was an unusual courtship, indeed, but we learned a lot about one another, and thoroughly enjoyed it.