Jackie Baker

Her name was Jackie

Her name wasn`t Baker though, but sometimes you need to change a name to protect the innocent as they say and this is the unforgiving internet.

Jackie was everything I was not, she was very pretty, blonde, bouncy, always seemed happy and friendly with an easy confidence that comes with being one of the popular girls and I never knew her to have that superior hardness a lot of her crowd had.

Her Mother knew my Mother as they went to the same Bingo and we lived just a street away from them. We also went to the same schools. We never really did more than brush by each other though, we didn`t move in the same circles, I didn`t move in any circles at all.

My Mother liked to tell me all about Jackie Baker, whatever morsels she picked up about her at Bingo were retold, embellished to convey to me how well she was doing...

Jackie loves school ! {I didn`t}
Jackie Baker hangs about with so and so and such and such, why don`t you try and join in with them {because they wouldn`t want me to}
Jackie`s got a boyfriend {I hadn`t yet}
Jackie`s got a Saturday job ! {I didn`t}
Jackie goes to disco`s, goes roller skating etc...
I saw Jackie Baker the other day, she was wearing ____ oh she looked lovely, eyes me and scowls. She revelled in feeding me titbits of Jackie`s fabulous life, so very different from mine, and the more unresponsive I became and uncomfortable I looked the more it confirmed she had found a new stick to beat me with.
If she was at a loose end and fancied some sport Jackie would be mentioned and her mean eyes would shine with delight, a sickly smile curling up the corner of her lips.

My Mother had bought something from Jackie`s Mom`s catalogue and it fell to me pop over every other weekend and pay the instalment.
She would eye me up to see if I `would do` before I left. `Put a bit of make up on Amanda` she would instruct me `make a bit a something of yourself`
More proof I wasn`t good enough.

I grew to hate Jackie Baker, not the girl herself, I smiled at her in passing and she smiled back but I hated what she stood for, a constant and ready reminder of all the ways I was found wanting. How I would never be good enough.
It was Jackie Baker this, Jackie Baker that.

When I briefly had my first boy friend I told him a little about things at home, it was hard to explain for me and hard to understand for him though he did pick up on the changing atmosphere at home when he visited, it bounced from oh, come in, come in to Is he here again? I also told him about Jackie Baker.

We were walking along one day and bumped into Jackie, looking fabulous as ever, she said Hi and so did I and when she passed I told my Lad who she was.
He wrinkled up his nose and said "Doesn`t look anything special to me"
He was lying of course but he was lying to show his loyalty to me, he was on MY side, 
imagine that ! What a rarity.