Friday, 10 September 2021

Uncanny Tales – (021) Where’s Winifred Bliss?

 

It was a blistering hot day in 1969 when the third year of Secondary School started, and Alexander Park Comprehensive School was heaving with familiar faces. 

It had only been called Alexandra Park as long as I had been going there, before that, it was Cecil Rhodes Secondary Modern but as Haringey was such a racially mixed borough political correctness reared its ugly head, long before it was even a thing, and the name was changed.

The racial mix of the area was well reflected in the student body, in fact the School assembly was like a session at the United Nations.

There was however one noticeable absentee in our form room that morning, Winifred Bliss, and it was noticeable because she was a foulmouthed gobby cow.

She was West Indian, though I never knew which island, she didn’t really communicate with the white kids other than to tell you to fuck off.

Our form tutor Mrs Holiday told us that Winifred would not be returning to the school, though she wouldn’t elaborate as to why.

Obviously by lunchtime rumours abounded as to her whereabouts, someone suggested she had runaway to join the circus, another that she had eloped to Gretna Green, the most popular theory was that she’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, which nobody would pay.

It wasn’t until we had drama with Mr Dickens after lunch that the truth surfaced when he stood up in front of the class

“There is some very foolish talk around the school regarding Winifred Bliss” he announced

“So, I have decided to tell you the truth”

The class fell silent and waited with bated breath, for what seemed like an eternity.

“Winifred was arrested by the police during the summer holidays” He said

“What for sir?” Mario asked

“For sleeping with boys” he answered

Sleeping with boys, I thought, what’s wrong with that, though I didn’t say it out loud as everyone else in the class was nodding sagely like they understood, but I didn’t, my brother and I often shared a bed with our cousins, and they were girls but they didn’t get arrested.

I never voiced my confusion to anyone about Winifred Bliss or the fact I used to get a stiffy when I shared a bed with my cousins.

A few months later the penny finally dropped regarding the significance of the phrase “Sleeping with boys”.

 

 

 

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