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Last week I was going through some old photos with my grandchildren when I came across some from my time in Malta during the 1960’s. They brought out many questions from the children; but also fired up many memories that I couldn’t possibly divulge to any family members.

It may have looked like a ‘rushed marriage’ but I wasn’t pregnant when I walked down the aisle in September 1965, but because my fiancée, Percy who had recently qualified as a Radio Electrical Artificer (REA), was being transferred to Malta to begin a two year assignment in the Royal Navy, so we quickly married so we could live together on the island.

Percy Junior was a few years older than me at 27, with me only being 19. I’d met him a few months earlier at the golf club where I worked behind the bar while studying at Technical College. Our fathers’ were best friends, and unknown to everyone, it was Percy’s dad, Percy Sr. who had ‘deflowered’ me earlier in the year.

I’d studied at an all-girls Catholic school and was something of an innocent, even though I was beginning to have ‘strange urges’ and a regular ‘itch’ between my legs; but didn’t know why or what to do about it.

My body had only recently developed into what was known as an ‘hourglass’ figure, with a large bust (36DD), a naturally slim waist and a fulsome backside, with slender legs. My hair was chestnut brown and eyes to match.

“Amanda, my dear … would you like a lift home?” Percy Sr. asked one rainy night in January. “I don’t know; I’m ok to walk … thanks.” I mumbled. Even being the ‘innocent’ teenager, I surely was, I still recognised Percy Sr. as a ‘bit of a rake’ who couldn’t keep his hands to himself; regularly grabbing the barmaids’ bums and occasionally ‘accidentally’ brushing against our boobs, then chuckling mischievously.

With my hormones raging; I actually enjoyed this contact, but he always made me blush.

“Come on dear,” he smiled, “I have to drive past your house anyway.”

Nervously, I nodded and, my heart racing, he helped me on with my coat, accidentally brushing his fingers against my chest... which made me glare at him; but say nothing. “Oops.” He grinned, “accidents will happen … especially when they are so big.”

I remained silent and held my chin against my chest so as not to make eye contact, as we hurried to his large Vauxhall car.

He asked about my future plans and how I spent my time outside school and work. I replied in brief, one-word answers and silently hoped to get home as quickly as possible.

My prayers weren’t answered as he turned down an lane that took us behind the village shops and stopped in the loading bay of the butchers.

“Don’t be frightened dear.” He leered at me, “I just want a little chat, that’s all.” “What about?” “Oh … this and that … you said you didn’t have a boyfriend, is that right?” “Yes.” I nodded. “That’s a shame,” Percy Sr. pouted, “a pretty girl likes you should have a boyfriend … someone to ‘take care of her needs’ … if you know what I mean.”

As I shook my head, he moved his hand to the top of my anorak and began pulling the zip down, deliberately slowing as it went past my trembling breasts. Eventually the zip was opened and he flicked it apart, exposing my blouse and heaving chest. After staring at me for a few seconds he leaned closer, “how about a little thank-you kiss for driving you home?” I could smell the whisky and beer on his breath as I shook my head. This didn’t stop him as he began nibbling on my ear, whispering ‘how pretty’ and ‘sexy’ I was, and he hoped I wasn’t a ‘prick tease’ like some of the other barmaids at the golf club.

I didn’t really know what he meant, so shook my head again and whispered, “I’m not.”

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