“I’m Jackie,” she said. “A bushwhacker from Perth.”
“I’m Daniel,” he replied. “And I’m…”
“A pom from Cambridge. You’ve already told me, remember?”
It was Daniel’s turn to look more carefully at the young woman who sat opposite him. Jackie appeared to be about twenty. She had short blond hair and a turned-up nose. Her clothes consisted of shorts and a yellow T-shirt that bore the legend “Perth!” right across her chest. She was quite unlike any undergraduate he had ever come across at Trinity.
“Are you up at university?” he inquired.
“Yeah. Second year, Perth. So what brings you to Sydney, Dan?”
Daniel couldn’t think of an immediate response, but it hardly mattered that much because Jackie was already explaining why she was in the capital of New South Wales long before he had been given a chance to reply. In fact Ja
ckie did most of the talking until their bills arrived. Daniel insisted on paying.
“Good on you,” said Jackie. “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Haven’t got anything particular planned.”
“Great, because I was thinking of going to the Theatre Royal,” she told him. “Why don’t you join me?”
“Oh, what’s playing?” asked Daniel, unable to hide his surprise at being picked up for the first time in his life.
“Noel Coward’s Tonight at Eight-thirty with Cyril Ritchard and Madge Elliott.”
“Sounds promising,” said Daniel noncommittally.
“Great. Then I’ll see you in the foyer at ten to eight, Dan. And don’t be late.” She picked up her rucksack, threw it on her back, strapped up the buckle and in seconds was gone.
Daniel watched her leaving the cafe before he could think of an excuse for not agreeing to her suggestion. He decided it would be churlish not to turn up at the theater, and in any case he had to admit he had rather enjoyed Jackie’s company. He checked his watch and decided to spend the rest of the afternoon looking round the city.
When Daniel arrived at the Theatre Royal that evening, a few minutes before seven-forty, he purchased two six-shilling tickets for the stalls then hung around in the foyer waiting for his guest—or was she his host? When the five-minute bell sounded Jackie still hadn’t arrived and Daniel began to realize that he had been looking forward to seeing her again rather more than he cared to admit. There was still no sign of his lunchtime companion when the two-minute bell rang, so Daniel assumed that he would be seeing the play on his own. With only a minute to spare before the curtain went up, he felt a hand link through his arm and heard a voice say, “Hello, Dan. I didn’t think you’d turn up.” Another first, he had never taken a girl to the theater who was wearing shorts.
Daniel smiled. Although he enjoyed the play, he found he enjoyed Jackie’s company during the interval, after the show and then later over a meal at Romano’s—a little Italian restaurant she seemed acquainted with—even more. He had never come across anyone who, after only knowing him for a few hours, could be so open and friendly. They discussed everything from mathematics to Clark Gable, and Jackie was never without a definite opinion, whatever the subject.
“May I walk you back to your hotel?” Daniel asked when they eventually left the restaurant.
“I don’t have one,” Jackie replied with a grin, and throwing the rucksack over her shoulder added, “so I may as well walk you back to yours.”
“Why not?” said Daniel. “I expect Mrs. Snell will be able to supply another room for the night.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Jackie.
When Mrs. Snell opened the door, after Jackie had pressed the night bell several times, she told them, “I hadn’t realized there would be two of you. That will mean extra, of course.”
“But we’re not—” began Daniel.
“Thank you,” said Jackie, seizing the key from Mrs. Snell as the landlady gave Daniel a wink.
Once they were in Daniel’s little room, Jackie removed her rucksack and said, “Don’t worry about me, Dan, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He didn’t know what to say in reply, and without uttering another word went off into the bathroom, changed into his pajamas and cleaned his teeth. He reopened the bathroom door and walked quickly over to his bed without even glancing in Jackie’s direction. A few moments later he heard the bathroom door close, so he crept out of bed again, tiptoed over to the door and turned out the light before slipping back under the sheets. A few more minutes passed before he heard the bathroom door reopen. He closed his eyes pretending to be asleep. A moment later he felt a body slide in next to his and two arms encircle him.
“Oh, Daniel”—in the darkness Jackie’s voice took on an exaggerated English accent—“do let’s get rid of these frightful pajamas.” As she pulled at the cotton cord on his pajama bottoms, he turned over to protest, only to find himself pressed up against her naked body. Daniel didn’t utter a word as he lay there, eyes closed, doing almost nothing as Jackie began to move her hands slowly up and down his legs. He became utterly exhilarated, and soon after exhausted, unsure quite what had taken place. But he had certainly enjoyed every moment.
“You know, I do believe you’re a virgin,” Jackie said, when he eventually opened his eyes.
“No,” he corrected. “Was a virgin.”