When we were children Pam looked up to me like I was a superstar and she was just a lowly fan. She would stare at me at everything I did like she wanted to be me and it drove me mad. Every Sunday afternoon mum gave us money to go and buy sweets from Chuddies which we called Stacey's. Us three girls would walk up Seymour Road to the shop. Angie was on her own time but me I'd have Pam's eyes glued to me. In the shop Pam eyed me carefully. Mr Chuddy or Stacey would serve us kindly. But he knew the score between me and Pam. He always served me first, well I was the oldest. My order was always the same. An orange ice cream with a chocolate flake in it and a quarter of American cream soda. 'And what can I get for you Pam?' But Mr Chuddy or Stacey knew exactly what her order was that's why he was always smiling to himself. An orange ice cream with a flake and a quarter of American cream soda please. I would sigh helplessly no use saying stop copying me, Mr Chuddy or Stacey would just laugh.
As we walked back down Seymour Road Pam would watch me eating my ice cream always making dead sure that she ate hers much slower than me. She wanted me to finish before her. Once I had no sweets left Pam looked at me carefully with a glint of real satisfaction as she slowly dipped her finger in her sherbet licking it off so so slowly, her finger stained red.
When Pam started junior school she often sent a friend over to me at playtime to tell me Pam was in the girls toilets crying and she wanted me. This new development to school life was cramping my style. But I would go reluctantly to sort out the trouble. One time I had this friend called Deborah. I didn't really want her as a friend but she wanted me. She was a bit rough in my book but I hadn't quite managed to shake her off yet. So one day Pam's friend came to get me and when Deborah heard the news that Pam was crying she linked my arm severely hard and said, 'Come on Jane!' She dragged me over to the troubled spot and thumped some young kid in the arm making them cry. Not my style at all I was more of a reason with both parties involved type. The next day I got hauled into Pam's classroom by her teacher Mrs Cook who humiliated me in front of all the younger kids. Mrs Cook had disliked me ever since I'd been in her class 3 years earlier when I was 8 like Pam was now. One time she shouted at me,'Jane Lancaster all you're interested in is rings!' I wore a ring on every finger, well it was the sixties. One of them was a big navy blue flower, I loved that ring. Mrs Cook was orrible with her long straight blonde hair, her mini skirt and American tan tights. I wonder what sweets Angie is sucking in this photo? I bet they're Opal fruits.
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