‘I have to warn you, I’m not staying long.’
‘Give it a chance here at least. I know your last placement was crappy, so was mine in Newcastle. The thing is, as people are wanting to join, almost as many are wanting to leave, and who can blame them? Conditions have been rubbish, but we’re going to change that. We’ll make people feel more wanted and appreciated. No more crowded rooms – and we’re going to get beds!’
‘A few weeks,’ I agreed, ‘and that’s mainly so I can hang out with you for a bit. Then I am gone.’
*
Adam Sorkin hit the UK like a gale-force wind. He arrived on a mission to whip all the communes into shape and make them more habitable. In the months he was there, he toured the country with lightning speed, familiarizing himself with who was living where as there were communes in every major city, with over three hundred people living in them. He was aghast at conditions, and standards began to improve under his guidance. All commune members had a bed, no one slept on the floor any more, people felt more valued.
That done, he called a meeting for everyone in the communes. On the allotted night, he strode to the front of the hall, ready to address everyone. A tall man who radiated energy and was impeccably dressed in the American preppy style. I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and made a note to look for some decent shoes in the jumble. He began by saying how much he liked England, talked about the Rainbow Children, what we were trying to achieve, the ups and downs. He made us laugh, and had us all eating out of his hands, then he let rip.
‘You’re out of touch and it shows. Read the papers, listen to the news, get with it. And, no doubt, you’re all dedicated people, but who’s going to want to join us when the women look like bag ladies and the men look like unwashed peasants. Seriously, guys, you all need to shower more.’ There was a collective sharp intake of breath in the hall as he continued.
His speech was followed by a shocked silence. We weren’t used to that kind of talk. We were used to quotes from the Scriptures, inspirational sayings, fables from the East, Buddhist sayings; no one had ever said we looked like bag ladies before. I glanced around at the women present. Adam had a point.
He certainly livened things up and he influenced many in the communes, who tried to gear up to become more socially acceptable. The women started taking better care of their appearance, wearing make-up, getting their hair cut properly. The men smartened up too and, although everyone still dressed from the Rainbow jumble, clearly an effort was being made to be more selective.
We also started reading the papers again, watching the evening news, attempting to join the changing times we were living in. His visit moved things forward for us as a group and we became less cut off from what was happening in the rest of the world. As part of that, I tried to contact my sister, Fi. I wasn’t sure where she was living any more and had got no reply when I’d tried the last number I had for her. I wrote to Mum in New Zealand to ask her for the latest, but knew it would take weeks before I got a letter back so I went into The Seventh Star to see if anyone there knew of her. Lesley greeted me with a warm hug. ‘Didn’t you know? Fi’s not in London any more. She went travelling with Jacob. Last I heard, they were in India.’
I also tried Sara Meyers and called her old home in Manchester. ‘She’s working in Bristol,’ her mum told me. ‘Do get in touch; I know she’d love to hear from you. She’s working for a TV company there.’
I took her contact details and meant to get in touch, but life took over again. Changes were happening in the communes and it was hard not to get caught up in the buzz. People were falling in love, left, right and centre. Those who’d opted for the celibate life were agonizing over the battle of the senses, between desire and a life of celibacy. There were late-night confessions over toast and tea, breakdowns, tears. Many couples left, others stayed and were miserable as they tried to go beyond their sexual longings; others sneaked out at night for illicit rendezvous in secret places. Rosie was one of them. She’d fallen in love with Patrick Mason, a tall, handsome man who helped run the London branch of Rainbow Foods with Tom Riley. They’d sneak out and meet in the park in the evenings.
Not me. I couldn’t have been more uninterested in men. There wasn’t anyone who turned my head. I had no need for a man, nor was there anyone I even vaguely found attractive. I had purpose, a position and a renewed sense of belonging. I was beginning to feel that I was in it for life again.
And then a second visitor arrived.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jo
Present day, March
A week of romance: Monday. The preparation.
I had my dinner date with Gary and we got on like a house on fire. I liked him a lot. It had been a long time since a man had been so attentive and made me laugh. We’d seen each other most days because he wanted my input into the programme about animals being best friends. I had a good idea that it was just an excuse to see more of me, which was very flattering, plus I was enjoying doing something different. Gary was an animal lover too and had a brown Labrador called Dudley that he invited me to go and meet. His way of saying ‘come and see my
