The year was 1978, and I had just turned sixteen. I knew my life was going to change; it had to, as it was the start of my last year at school, and after that, college beckoned. What I did not know was those changes would start that very day, the very first day of the new school year.

The town where I grew up has three secondary schools, two well-financed and well-run, and the third one; well, let’s say it was where you ended up if you lived in the poorer part of town or couldn’t get into the other schools. I went to the third school.   

By the time it came to my final year there, the school had a new name, a new headmaster, and plenty of new ideas, one of which was to stream the brightest students into two top classes. The reason was the school wanted some excellent exam results. It needed to compete with other schools to get some increased funding.

I am Alan, happier playing sports than doing academic studies. Yet, I suspect with more luck than judgment that l found myself in one of the two top classes; Upper-5-B to be exact. But streaming us was not the only school rule change; there were others, three of which directly affected me.

The first was no sport for the top two classes; we were there, “only at school to study.” That one pissed me off, as I loved playing football, and I had been the captain of the football team.

The second rule change, except for specialist subjects, all lessons would be held in your tutorial classroom, and the teacher would rotate; he or she would come to you. I shrugged on hearing that; I was not one for gossiping in the corridors or having a crafty cigarette in the boy’s toilet.

The last rule change was perhaps the most controversial among us pupils; each boy was going to be forced to sit next to a girl, an alien species too many of us boys!

We were told this disturbing news by the new headmaster, a strong ex-military man with a moustache that made him look like Winsor Davis. His forceful words, “We are only there to study, learn, and achieve excellent exam results.” Then he added, he was only there, to save the school.

There was no discussion; we were given no choice.

By the end of the first tutorial, our year teacher had paired the girls and boys up. It was a bit of a lottery, but I lucked out. I couldn’t help smiling when I got placed with Wendy, a beautiful tall blonde girl who was new to our school and therefore, none of us knew anything about her. She was hot and sexy, though they were not terms I used then. This was largely the age of innocence; with no sisters, my only exposure to the opposite sex had been limited to just two very brief fumblings.

I had never had a girlfriend, though with my teenage hormones flowing, I knew I liked girls, but they also scared me. I had even been told in the past, through the school year grapevine, that X or Y wanted to go out with me, but I was too shy to take it further. When it came to girls, I didn’t know what to do! I was more comfortable on the football field, playing a match against our toughest opposition.

Wendy was tall and athletic, with blue eyes and a wide, warm smile. A couple of my mates asked me if we could swap seats. Not a chance. As far as I was concerned, they had paired Wendy and me for the entire school year.

For me, it was a strange feeling sitting next to a girl, especially a beautiful one. She was a mystery, not only because she was a girl but also because she was new to the school. My form teacher gave me the extra responsibility of helping her fit in.

I know the first few words I said to Wendy were nothing but an embarrassing mumble. But I needn’t have worried; even though she didn’t have any brothers, Wendy was chatty and not that alien at all.

It turned out she had a younger twin sister, Caroline, born just seven and a half minutes after her. As they grew up, they remained close, helped by frequently moving home, schools and having to make new friends. Wendy told me, her past was like living life in a revolving door as her father moved from job to job as he climbed the corporate ladder.

Caroline was in the other top class, Upper-5-A. She was the victim of another school rule; siblings were not allowed to study in the same class. Wendy explained to me that though they were twins, I would be able to tell them apart.

I grinned.

The idea that there was another Wendy, another beautiful girl, fascinated me. My inner thoughts must have been written all over my face as Wendy nudged me before telling me, “You need to wait until the end of the day to meet her, but you are meant to be looking after me!”

It was the first of many times during that year that my class partner would put me in my place.

There was something else. This one I quickly worked out by myself. Wendy didn’t need my help. She was a natural social butterfly, and it didn’t take her long to develop a network of friends.

During that first school day, I found out Wendy’s home was located roughly halfway between where I lived and the school. I walked past her house twice a day. As she was still new to the local area, arrangements were made for us to meet at the school gate and walk home together. My friends were dropped for the day in favour of the twin sisters, Wendy and Caroline.

Despite being with her sister most of the day, the first time I saw Caroline, I was somewhat tongue-tied. At that time of my life, it was my way: clam up, stay quiet and listen. I didn’t want to be the tall, athletic guy who turned into a mumbling fool every time I met a new attractive girl.

You could tell Wendy and Caroline were twins. Their blonde wavy hair, facial looks, blue eyes, long legs, and body shape, were all similar but not identical.

There were differences; Wendy was a little shorter, and a little curvier than her sister. They were both extremely beautiful young women, but for me, to look at, it was Caroline who shaded it. She was truly beautiful.

That afternoon, as we left school for the first time in our final year, as requested by Wendy, I escorted both sisters home. The six-foot me, who knew nothing about girls, suddenly felt protective of the sisters, disregarding my friends to be with the two beautiful twins. I didn’t know then it was going to be the first day of many that I escorted both girls home.

As the weeks ticked by, I got to know Wendy and Caroline better, and the new knowledge gave me confidence. I began to understand the nuances between the two sisters. Yes, I studied them just like it was part of the school curriculum. I didn’t try to hide it; they both knew I kept checking them out and sometimes, I was rewarded as they flirted back with me.  

Wendy often giggled and put on a little show. Caroline would warmly smile or even blush. Yes, I learned that the younger twin, when teased, blushed. It was something I found endearing.

With time, I realised the crucial difference between the twins was their personalities. Wendy was confident, outgoing and flirty: Caroline was quiet, even shy and yet, to me, more engaging.

The year drifted on, and my academic studies improved, as did my communication abilities with the two beautiful girls and, for that matter, girls in general. When I should have been playing school sports, I was now enhancing my romantic studies as I walked home with the twins. The sisters now thinking nothing of flirting or even holding hands with me; their reward, my boyish humour!

Occasionally we were joined by friends during our journey, and step by step, I grew in confidence. Much to my surprise, I suddenly became romantically linked to other girls in our year, but I wasn’t interested. I simply was not ready for a steady girlfriend.

How could I be?

I had no money, I was too young to drive a car, and my parents seemed only interested in how I did at school, not financially supporting my social life.

With the year’s progression, I noticed changes, especially with the girls in my year; they all seemed to of suddenly matured. They weren’t girls anymore; they seemed to of bloomed into young desirable women. As the end-of-year exams approached, some of the girls were met at the school gates by men too old to be at school, taking them home in their cars. It took me a while to understand and accept that we were all rapidly growing up.

As far as I knew, neither Wendy nor Caroline had boyfriends, but they mentioned to me they had started to go to the nightclubs in our town, of which there were two.

Maybe it was a hint that they wanted me to go with them. There was a growing attraction between us, but at that time, it passed me by.

I asked myself, how could I go to the nightclubs? You had to be eighteen, and guys always got carded; tall attractive girls like Wendy and Caroline didn’t.

But I began to realise I couldn’t leave it long if I wanted to ask Caroline out.

Of the two sisters, it was she who romantically interested me. Wendy seemed too mature for me. There may have been only seven and half minutes difference in their ages, but in the months after Christmas, Wendy seemed to of suddenly outgrown me.

My attraction for Caroline was not just her looks; it was her shyness, her quiet demeanour; the fact she reminded me of myself. It helped my confidence. Those sly glances she gave me as Wendy chatted away. I am sure we were both giving out signals to each other, but we were both too shy to act. It was our way.

Then there was Wendy… I certainly didn’t want to upset her by showing an obvious interest in her sister. I was thinking I would wait until after the final exams, and then ask Caroline out. Yes, I knew I was making excuses, putting a decision off.

The school year end arrived, final exams, and afterwards, we were all due to go our separate ways. The twins were going on to college, as for me, an apprenticeship, and a different more practical college. Our lives were taking different directions, and I still had not asked Caroline out. I dithered, and I reiterated to myself, after the exams.

However, there was a final twist to the school year and something that had never happened before or, for that matter, since. The school arranged an end-of-school disco to be held in the local village hall. But it came with one condition; you could only go as a couple, boy and girl. Same-sex couples were not allowed (remember this was 1979).

It was suggested that you go with your class partner. Wendy asked me straight away, and I said yes, without thinking. Then I realised that maybe I should have asked Caroline and that I had missed my chance. It didn’t matter, as it turned out that she was going with Trevor, her class partner, though I suspected that at least a part of her wanted to go with me.

The disco evening came in early June, just after the last exam and a month since our last revision classes, the last time I walked home with Wendy and Caroline. During that time, I had only spoken to Wendy once, on the phone, to confirm what time I was meeting her to take her to the village hall disco. With the arrangements made, I realised this now felt like a date, my first date with a girl.

The anguish of each final exam was slowly replaced with new, more intermediate thoughts…

What do I wear? How do I behave? Is this just a one-off?

Was I taking the wrong twin sister to the disco?  

I only knew the answer to the last question.

That evening I wore my best denim bellbottom jeans, and a snazzy, somewhat seventies-looking, long-sleeve shirt. Its sleeves rolled halfway up my forearms, my watch showing. My school shoes were now replaced by black shiny winkle pickers, not the very long ones, but they were the fashion of the day. This was going to be my first-ever date, and I wanted to try and look my best. That is, if I could, impress both the twins.

As I walked to pick up Wendy, I wondered if she thought this was a date, too. I wasn’t sure. We hadn’t talked about anything like that right through the school year. However, a date with Wendy wasn’t my plan, as I hoped during the evening to catch Caroline on her own and ask her out.

The twins' house was large, in a good area of our town, and I had never been inside it. The walk up the front garden path was filled with anticipation and nervousness. The brass front door knocker was heavy. Its thud reverberated through me as it came down and signalled the start of the date, and my plan. Every school day, I had walked twice past this house, yet tonight, it felt so different, like another exam. The knowledge I had gained about girls all year from the two twins was going to be put to the test. 

The practical knowledge I had of a girl’s body was only based on my hand and the size of their breasts. My measurement method, if they exactly fitted into the palm of my hand, the breasts were perfect, as nothing was wasted. But there were two other measurements, larger, more than a handful, or smaller, less than a handful; I simply didn’t appreciate that breasts came in defined sizes.

As for getting to see or feel a girl's pussy, not that we called them pussies then, we called them fannies, or vaginas, but never the C-word. Well, that was unlikely to happen. I was still largely innocent of the joys of what a girl’s body could offer, and yes, like most, I was still a virgin, and I assumed Wendy and Caroline were both virgins too.

After a brief hello to my date’s parents, Wendy and Caroline appeared. They were dressed similarly in knee-length skirts and blouses, a wide black belt around their middle; though the style and the colours of their clothes were different. Their hair was wild, and their makeup flawless. They were both going to be the two hottest girls at the disco.

I couldn’t help glancing at Caroline when Wendy was looking the other way. I sensed she knew I wanted to be with her. It was at that very moment her date, Trevor, arrived, our sly grins lost in his arrival.

Our walk to the village hall was full of laughs and giggles. Me holding Wendy’s hand, though my eyes kept dancing with Caroline's figure as she walked next to her date. In my pocket, a small hip flask full of my dad’s whisky. Trevor was similarly equipped; he had vodka, while the twins seemed to have already discovered some alcohol before they left home. That was in addition to the small bottle that I knew each of them was carrying in their handbags.

It wasn’t far to the village hall and when I say village hall, think more community centre. The front of the building was two stories, which consisted of offices, two bathrooms and a conference room. The lower floor, at the rear, was a single-story, high-ceiling hall with a kitchen to one side. It was where the disco was being held.

With Amii Stewart’s “Knock on Wood” booming out, we arrived and showed our tickets to the two teachers guarding the entrance. Inside, a disco deck was set up in the corner with a deejay manning it. A large disco ball hung from the ceiling, and two sets of coloured lights bounced their beams on it, forming patterns of coloured stars around the room. A set of strobe lights behind the deejay occasionally flashed in time with the music and, in doing so, briefly illuminated the room.  

Our small group was one of the first to arrive. The hall was almost empty. The two girls seemed to peel away to the few other girls there who had congregated on the other side of the room.
Trevor and I found our solace in our hip flasks, though we had to be careful as we didn’t want them confiscated by the couple of teachers who were there on duty.

We were all sixteen, had left school, and it was legal for us to have sex, even get married with our parents’ consent, but not to drink alcohol. It felt strange, almost like living a half-life. We weren’t children anymore, but we weren’t yet classed as adults. But to me, things were starting to feel different, like seeing my geography teacher smoking or realising all the girls seemed to have older boyfriends. It felt like I was on the launch pad, the countdown already well on its way towards my adult life.

Outside, the sun was setting; inside, the girls danced around their handbags. While we boys huddled in the corners, talking, watching our partners, lurking but not yet brave enough to venture out and dance with a girl.

However, there was one exception: the Pogo Dance. As soon as The Undertones, “Teenage Kicks” was played, the girls quickly vacated the dance floor and were swiftly replaced by us lads pogoing away. Our smuggled alcohol was increasingly fuelling many of us, and jumping up and down, sometimes in time with the music, always seemed like a good thing to do.      

As the evening turned to night, the teachers seemed to evaporate towards the local pub, and with the darkness and the smuggled alcohol, we started to mix; some of us, even merging with the girls and dancing around their handbags. I joined Wendy. Many thought we were already a couple. We weren’t, but we were good friends. Her company was always fun. I may not have known much about what she did outside school, but that night we danced together. It did feel like I was on my first date, unlike Trevor and Caroline. It was very clear that they were nothing more than class partners.

I looked for Caroline, her blonde hair, and warm smile, but she seemed to never be there on her own. The whisky had helped me find courage, alright Dutch courage, to ask her out. I knew tonight was the right time, even if I was on a date and dancing with her seven-and-a-half-minute older sister.

But just before I made my move, something unexpected happened. Wendy grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs and into a darkened office. She locked the door, and by the moonlight that streamed through the skylight, she kissed me.

It was our first kiss. I didn’t resist.

I was more in shock, though my cock had suddenly come alive as Wendy and I started to make out.  As my cock started thinking of my class partner, my instincts took over. With the music thumping from the floor below, we kissed, and our hands roamed. Wendy let me touch her and then feel both her tits. First over the bra and then under it. First and then second base, I had never gotten that far before with a girl as my hand cupped her breast, and my mind registered that they were definitely more than a handful.

But as my mind took that on board, something even more wonderful happened…

I had thought we were only going to make out for a short time. But unexpectedly, Wendy disappeared down onto her knees. I thought she felt sick, and then she started fiddling with the fly on my jeans. I gulped, then grinned but, importantly, didn’t resist as she pulled my hard cock out and took it in her mouth.

I had heard about blow jobs, but I had never received one, and I didn’t know anyone my age who had. For me, we were in new sexual territory, way beyond anything that I had dreamed, might happen. I couldn’t help but groan as Wendy’s lips wrapped themselves around my cock, and then gasp as her head bobbed back and forth.

Despite the obvious sexual pleasure, my body was in shock, and I just stood there enjoying this new and welcome feeling. I also realised that Wendy must have done this before.

My erect cock was controlling me, and the thought of asking Caroline out had now faded. But deep inside me, I knew with each bob of Wendy’s head, the chances of me going out with her twin sister, diminished.

I looked down, my eyes just making out Wendy’s face with her long blonde hair, framing it as her mouth continued to work my cock. It was a view which inspired that familiar feeling as I felt that first pulse race through me, from my cock to my brain… the need to cum.

My eyes glanced up towards the skylight, the moonlight flooding through. What was happening was so unexpected, almost unreal, my mind a whirl of thoughts, emotions, and questions.

Was Wendy that experienced?

I hoped she was a virgin like me, but each bob of the head, each twirl of her tongue, told me that was highly unlikely. I tried to analyse and dissect as I hoped this new sexual pleasure would go on forever, but my bare cock twitched; it was getting close to its release. I knew it wouldn’t be long.

 Should I say something to Wendy?

Then she suddenly stopped, looked at me and smiled. I wasn’t sure what was happening; so close, yet no cigar. I looked down and noticed she was pulling something from her handbag. It was a condom. Wendy had come prepared. She opened it, and then, with my help, she rolled it onto my cock. In doing so, I felt I was both gaining and losing something.

It was not what you might think.

We had seemed to have skipped third base, and we were now going for a home run. Yes, I was going to lose my virginity and gain sexual knowledge. But there was a deeper thought, a sadder notion, I realised Wendy was experienced, that I was not her first; that we were not going to lose our virginity together as, at that moment, I secretly wanted. But above all, I wanted this moment to be with her twin sister, Caroline.

But any rational thoughts were quickly dismissed; my cock had taken over. It had decided for me, I was going to lose my virginity to Wendy.

In one movement, she turned, lifted her skirt, and dropped her knickers. Then she bent over the desk, and as she did so, her hairy pussy winked into my view. My cock, now encased in a condom, was erect and thinking for me, telling me what to do. This was no time for hesitation, Wendy was silently offering herself to me, and my instincts took over.

I plunged into her wet pussy. She moaned, and then we fucked. I jackhammered away, feeling every unfamiliar sensation, though knowing that with each stroke, I was pushing Caroline away.

For those thirty seconds, Wendy’s pussy had me hooked. Then with a grunt, and my eyes rolling back, I erupted into the condom and collapsed onto Wendy. I was no longer a virgin. 

I had no idea if Wendy enjoyed it or, for that matter, that girls could cum. All I knew was that I had just had sex for the first time. I grinned, then became unsure and then a little guilty. I hadn’t been planning for Wendy to become my girlfriend.

That thought caused me to embarrassingly ask, “Does this mean we are going out now?”

At least my question made Wendy chuckle, then say, “Maybe, but next time you buy the condom.”

I grinned next time! So this was not just a one-off, but as my cock and brain took in Wendy’s appetising words, my heart was saying something else, I had just had sex with the wrong sister. 

I quickly reflected. During my last school year, when Wendy and I had been forced to sit together, it had done little to enhance our academic results. What it did do was give me confidence, and, eventually, the ultimate intimacy with her. Though as I gathered my breath and eased my shrinking cock out of her; I sensed there was so much I didn’t know about Wendy, but at that very moment, there was a genuine connection between us.

Once we had made ourselves decent, we discretely returned to the disco. The night was done. I felt different, happy, no longer a virgin, but also confused.

At the end of the evening, I walked both sisters home. There were no goodnight kisses, no mention of us becoming boyfriend/girlfriend, though my guilt kept telling me, I had missed my chance with Caroline.

It felt all so very surreal.  

I also found out something else the next morning, Whisky is perhaps not the best type of alcohol to have in your hip flask. I was hungover.

So is this the end of my story?

Well, not quite. In a way, it is only half of it!

I felt I was not ready for a relationship, serious or not, as I had no money, and no car, and mentally I was not mature enough, especially for someone like Wendy. She needed someone older, someone who could afford to take her out, and wine and dine her.

I did go out with Wendy a few times during that summer, to the beach, and the cinema, and we did have sex once more. It was in her bed, the missionary position; her parents were away on holiday. The second time was more enjoyable as I felt more relaxed, and, yes; I did provide the condom. But it also felt false. I still wanted Caroline, and, more importantly, Wendy told me she was already seeing someone, an older man, and she was cheating on him when she was with me. We talked, and I asked if she had told Caroline about us. Yes, she had, but she also told her we were not serious, just enjoying each other’s company and bodies.

I liked Wendy; she was good fun, but I desired Caroline. I felt trapped. Then fate intervened once again.

With a new condom in my pocket and the twins' parents still away on holiday, Wendy and I made arrangements to meet up again. The idea was that Wendy and I would spend time together and then return to her house and have sex once again in her bed.

However, on arrival at Wendy’s house, only Caroline was there. She took delight in telling me that Wendy had a new boyfriend, not just the older man, and wouldn’t be seeing me again. Whether that was true or not, I never found out, but that suited me; as with my still somewhat innocent mind, I wanted Caroline.

Despite what had happened between me and her sister, there was still something there; a spark? 

We still fancied each other.

I had always wanted Caroline to be my first true girlfriend, and despite the timing; I was now brave enough to ask her the question, "Would you go out with me?"

Surprisingly, she didn’t completely reject me. Instead, we talked. Over the next couple of hours, our conversation turned to kissing, then necking, and then ventured to Caroline’s bed. She admitted that she still liked me. But she made it clear she wasn’t ready for a boyfriend.

I sort of understood, but it was obvious we still wanted each other.

Later that afternoon, we had sex. It was gentle caring sex, as it was Caroline’s first time. As I explored her body, my hands found her breasts. They perfectly fitted into my palms; there was nothing wasted. We were a perfect match!

As our bodies became one, it was not lost on me that the condom I had purchased for her sister was now being employed inside Caroline, a girl I genuinely wanted to be my first proper girlfriend.

But the damage was done. Caroline only wanted to lose her virginity before going to college. She didn’t want a relationship, especially with someone who had already slept with her twin sister. Despite our mutual attraction for one another, neither of us was mature enough then to deal with that complication. When I left late that afternoon, we both agreed to wait and see what happened.

I walked home with tears in my eyes, knowing that I had cocked up my chances with Caroline, though still hoping that with a little time, she would give me a call.

After that wonderful afternoon, the days slipped past, and I heard nothing from either of the girls. Then the summer ended, and my mindset slipped into one of uncertainty. That became reinforced as I started my apprenticeship and, with that, my new college. It was some distance from the one Wendy and Caroline were attending.

As quickly as it had started, what relationship I had with Wendy and Caroline just fizzled out. I never heard from either of them. Like me, they had moved on, though I admit I still carried a sweet spot for both girls, especially Caroline.

So, that was my last year at school; it turned out to be slightly more educational than the school intended and as for those end-of-year exams results? A marginal improvement.

I laugh now when I look back, as it was us boys who had greatly improved at the expense of the girls. It was the only year that I know of when the boys got better exam results than the girls. Today, the school is still there, much improved, and the name hasn’t changed from when I attended.

Is that the end of my story?

Well, almost…

*****

Two years later

Unusually for me, I was looking for clothes in the local shopping arcade. I was also between girlfriends and not in any hurry to find love again. After browsing in a shop, I stepped back into the main precinct, the sun dazzling, and my eyes squinting against its brightness.

As they adjusted to the light, I noticed a young blonde woman with long, sexy legs. She had her back to me and was looking in a shop window. The hair, and those legs, looked vaguely familiar. The woman was tall, her hair slightly wavy. It went down to her bra strap line. She was wearing a short summer dress, which emphasised her beautiful figure. She was also pushing a pram.

My journey took me closer, and as it did, I recognised her face; it was reflected in the shop window glass. It was Wendy, the girl who had given me my first blow job and whom I lost my virginity with.

My eyes flicked to the pram. Part of me wasn’t surprised that she had become pregnant; after all, I had learned that she slept around.

I hadn’t seen her or her twin sister since I started work two years ago. We had drifted apart, as I hadn’t pursued either of them. I wasn’t ready, and it turned out Wendy was already taken.

As I remembered back, despite what I said to myself, I regretted not at least trying to keep in contact with Caroline. She may have been the one. There had been chemistry. But the fact I had slept with her twin sister had made it feel weird, and that was true for both of us. Then we were too immature to sort out our feelings and take action. It had been easier for us to walk away and then drift apart.

But now, two years later, with more life experience, I felt the need to say hello. Maybe even apologise, and find out how her sister was doing. So, with words rattling around in my head and nerves jingling, I approached.

As I got near, she sensed me, turned and smiled. She remembered me, but I was surprised as it was the beautiful face of Caroline looking at me. She was stunning.

The pram must have thrown me, but it was Caroline’s blue eyes, not Wendy’s, looking at me, and they seemed warm and receptive.

Taken aback, I babbled, “Hi, how are you?”

Caroline grinned at me, maybe because of my sudden bout of nervousness. But as we talked, I found calmness, and the two years that had passed in our lives seemed to melt away. Our conversation seemed to come so naturally. It flowed. I realised there was still that spark between us, that she had not forgotten me in the same way I had never forgotten her.

How could we forget each other? I had been her first, and she, my second. Having sex together meant there was always going to be a connection between us. 

I looked at the baby and asked, “What is his name?”

“Charlotte,” Caroline giggled back, as I noticed the pink baby suit. “She is three months old.”

It was a lighter moment, my current thoughts running much deeper. I had been taken aback by how beautiful Caroline was, that she was now a mother, but as we talked, I sensed sadness, and that she might still want me.

With me, things had changed; I now had some money in my pocket, a car and the start of a career.

I had to ask, “Are you married?” There was no wedding ring; her fingers were completely devoid of any jewellery.

“I am with George now. He is an older man,” Caroline offered, her voice sounding down, even a little unsteady. Despite having Charlotte, I had the feeling that life wasn’t treating Caroline so well. I sensed when she looked at me there was still attraction; even hope!

I silently asked myself. Was I ready to be with her?

Caroline was beautiful and bright. I sensed that I only had to ask her if she would like a coffee, and we would be on the road to going on that long-awaited date. But she had a baby and an older boyfriend. I chose to not ask about George. I wasn’t interested.

Nor did I bring up her sister, as I didn’t want to bring up old and possible hurtful memories; but as we spoke, the conversation came easily. Caroline seemed to answer every question without me asking them. She just seemed to say what I needed to know.

George had asked her to marry him, a possible wedding next year, but she hadn’t yet said yes. Those words I took to mean she wasn’t sure; that she was possibly looking for someone better.

She and Wendy had grown apart; her sister now lived in London with her boyfriend and was doing well. Yes, they had discussed me. It hadn’t helped their relationship; the fact that I had slept with both of them, but that was now history. They still spoke on the phone, and it was more the distance and Charlotte that stopped them from continuing to be as close as they had been growing up.   

As we talked that warm summer’s day, every word seemed to bring us nearer. Those sparks that had turned to nothing more than cool embers were once again re-igniting, growing brighter, warmer, and pulling us once again together. I learned that Caroline had moved away, not far like her sister, but far enough to make it that she only came back into town when visiting her parents.

I sensed she was hinting that she was still available if I still wanted her.    

I asked myself, did I? It was a second chance.

That question had two answers, and, once again, I chose the easy option.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched Caroline push the pram in the opposite direction. Her beautifully tightly moulded bottom wiggled, silently saying to me, you are making a mistake.
Caroline disappeared around the corner and, as she did so, she gave me one last look. Her beautiful face and her eyes had sadness written all over them. I sensed it, and she knew I detected it.

I walked the other way, and as I did so, I found my eyes watery; a single tear of sorrow running down my face. I suspected that I would never see Caroline or her baby ever again, and I didn’t. She simply disappeared from my life for a second time.  

I had made a choice in life. Even if Caroline had left George, I wasn’t ready for a girlfriend who was also a mother. At eighteen, I needed to be free, and I simply couldn’t bring up someone else’s child. I was still finding my way in the world.

With time, the memory of Caroline faded, but it never left me. Sometimes, especially as I lie on my own in bed at night, I wondered if I had made the right decision.

It took me another four years to find the answer to that question.

It was the day I met another stunning, leggy, eighteen-year-old, this one with reddish hair and four years my junior. Two years after meeting her; she became my wife and the love of my life.

Her name? Caroline.