JOSIAH PYKE AND THE JAGGED BLADE

After a few weeks at University studying theology, Josiah writes to Penny and she replies.

Darling Penny, wrote Josiah thoughtfully when he found himself with an unexpected afternoon with a cancelled lecture. He was settling into the Benedict Theological College at County University and besides finding himself in the company of an unusual group of people, that his time was hardly ever actually his. Once or twive he’d thought I’ll write to Penny and something that he couldn’t avoid had cropped up, and he didn’t want to rush spilling his heart to her.

Then he began proper.

I’m sorry it’s been a few weeks since I wrote and I do remember that I promised to write every week, but they’re keeping me so busy I can hardly tell when it’s day and when it’s night! I’m sharing a house with five other students and they’re an odd bunch that I’d better tell you about once I’ve told you that, darling Penny, I know I love you more than I love life itself. But I’m not a sentimental sort usually and don’t want to make a fool of myself writing to you, my precious girl.

So here’s where I am. We live in an old terraced house, six of us in three bedrooms, and it’s not so bad. If nothing else, it’s clean.

There’s Danny, who seems to think he’s the leader of our small pack. He wants to make all the decisions for us and give out all the orders. The downside of that is he hardly ever seems to do anything that might be called domestically difficult himself whilst the rest of us do. But there’s an upside, and that is the house is being kept reasonably clean and tidy! I cleaned the bathroom last night, which was something Mildred taught me how to do properly.

Then there’s Phoebe. She, as you can tell from the name, is a girl, but not the sort of girl you’d think of as female if it wasn’t for the name. She’s not doing the theological course but women’s sport, and when she isn’t playing rugby she’s in the bar pouring too much beer down her throat. She’s also lousy when it comes to cleaning bathrooms! But I suppose she’s all right and sometimes get the feeling that she’s looking a bit too hard at me.

Then there’s shy little Ian. I’ve taken him under my wing a bit because we’re in the same college and on the same course. He’s too devout for my liking, though, says he’s never had a girlfriend and doesn’t think he really likes girls. I don’t think he’s gay, though, or if he is he hasn’t tried cosying up to me! But he’s the sort that might find himself being put upon and even bullied, so I’m sort of standing by him.

You’d like Sylvie, who shares a room with Phoebe but is as different from her as chalk is from cheese. I quite like Sylvie because she is open and honest and has the sweetest smile in the house, though that’s not saying much! But don’t worry: she’s not really my sort. She’s fussy and makes sure she always gets her work done on time. I think she’s reading history, but she never talks about it and I never ask. But she’s ever so clean and her face always shines as though she’s scrubbed it!

Finally, there’s Eddie. I think his real name is Edmund, and he’s on the same course as me, though from the way he speaks he doesn’t believe a word of what he’s studying and pooh-poohs our lectures, saying how he doesn’t believe a word of the scriptures even though he says he plans to end up as a Bishop before he, as he puts it, pegs it! I’m sharing with him and it’s quite a chore listening to some of his theories, though I suppose a bit of what he says seems to make sense. I mean, was Eve really made from a man’s rib?

That’s my house, then. Me and Eddie in one room, Phoebe and Sylvie in another and Danny and Ian in the third.

Please note, there aren’t any blondes with long hair and teasing smiles anywhere!

I can’t stop thinking of you and some of the simple times we’ve had together. What Danny says he’s done makes me look like a beginner at the game of life! But simple as our times may have been, I treasure the memories of them.

Please write and let me know how you’re doing at work. It would have been marvellous if you’d come to university with me, but that was not to be and I understand. I’m not so good at writing soppy stuff, so I’ll just end by saying I love you and will for ever.

Love Joe.

ps. I’m Josiah here!

Then he read his letter through, folded it and stuck it in an envelope.

There was a post-box at the end of the road where their rented terraced house was. Most of the houses on that street were owned by the same man and let to students, which inevitably meant that it was always a busy street.

He only had to wait three days for a reply, and he nervously opened the letter that smelt of Penny. And it was short and not sweet.

Dear Josiah, he read, and he didn’t like the use of his proper Christian name, it seemed forbidding, somehow, and not Penny at all.

Thanks for your note. I hope you’re happy at University and learn how to be a good holy person.

I’ve got a new friend. His name is Gordon and he works with me in the office, is a few years older than us and takes me to the pub after work. I hope you don’t mind or get upset, but a girl’s got to have some life and as he says she can’t be expected to wait for ever for sex.

You remember the Insurance Policy? I don’t think I’m quite ready for a permanent relationship yet so I’ll sell it and send you what it makes at the when I do. I won’t cheat you so there’s no need to worry, but we don’t need insurance, what with us both having very different lives to what we had.

I’m sorry if it comes as a shock, but it has been quite a few weeks since you left for University and I found waiting difficult and almost lonely. I thought you must have found a girl on your course to play with by now, and if you haven’t, why not?

Sincerely, Penny Longlane.

He read it twice, tears in his eyes and then running down his face. It was as if a jagged blade had been plunged into his very soul.

Penny with a man? Penny with another man? Penny and sex? She’d said she couldn’t wait for ever for sex and he’d never expected her to. But he’d also expected that when she did make love to anyone it would be to him. How could she have written a letter like that? How could she have…

...And she must have known it would break his heart. She must have been completely aware that he had respected her body. He hadn’t wanted to risk her getting pregnant! When they’d had the odd discussion on the subject he’d as good as told her as much, and she’d agreed so whole-heartedly he knew it was what they both believed. True, she could have taken that new pill thing that’s everywhere in the press, but he thought it was only available to married women, and anyway, there was honour in waiting. Honour and decency and not the kind of behaviour exhibited so publicly by a host of modern pop stars.

He had to write back to her! But he also had to go to college. He daren't miss any lecyures. Catching up would be well nigh impossible, especially catching up with deep theories that he only half understood even when they were explained to him.

“Dear John, was it?” asked Danny, noticing the letter in his hand and the moisture on his face.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“That letter you got. A dear John was it?”

He nodded. What else could he say? But he knew one thing. He’d have to write back to her as soon as he had time to think about what he was going to write, and make it heart-felt, honest and meaningful.

He owed himself that.

© Peter Rogerson 15.03.18