Bernice Fussell – The Beautiful Head Girl
Sometimes when adding posts to my website I get reminded of an event or person from my past.
When I was in my first year at comprehensive school, the head girl was a gorgeous creature by the name of Bernice Fussell. She was in the sixth form — her final year. Bernice was tall and beautiful, with her long blonde hair worn in ringlets. She was a very nice person but, knowingly or unknowingly, broke the hearts of many young prepubescent boys — me included.
One day while playing football in the playground at lunch break, I tripped and fell badly, tearing the knee of my uniform trousers and grazing my knee. On such occasions we would go to the school secretary, so I made my way to the entrance doors. Bernice was standing by the doors, ensuring no one entered as it wasn’t allowed at break time. I told her what had happened and that I needed to see the school secretary. Bernice said I didn’t need to do that — she would fix me up herself. She led me to a classroom, told me to sit on a chair, and fetched the first aid box.
As Bernice was cleaning my knee and applying ointment, cotton wool, and tape, I felt like I was in heaven. As much as I wanted her to be mine forever and a day, I knew I had more chance of playing for Arsenal — and that was nil, as I was (and still am) total crap at football. But at that moment, in my mind she was mine, and it was well worth a grazed knee and a torn pair of trousers to have her so close to me, talking to me and making me feel I was on cloud nine. I could feel her breath on me and smell the gentle aroma of her perfume. I thought I must be dreaming — a dream I didn’t want to end.
Some years later, a friend of my mum told me that her daughter had started infant school and that her teacher was really nice — a lady called Bernice Fussell. I went cold as thoughts of Bernice, the head girl I had a crush on, came flooding back.
Later I googled her name and came upon a school’s website where she was listed as the headmistress. Even though many decades had passed, I wanted to contact this woman — now Bernice Boyton-Corbett — and thank her for what she did, and let her know that I still remembered her well. I wasn’t sure if the email would reach her and certainly didn’t expect a reply, but much to my surprise I did. Bernice thanked me in a professional way for my email, adding that she had “fixed up” many boys in her time.
Since then I have had no further contact apart from sending an email to wish her a Happy Christmas. I truly hope she is retired and surrounded by happy memories of her life. It doesn’t seem possible that the girl I had a crush on is now an elderly lady, possibly a grandmother. It just goes to show how short life is and how quickly time passes.
If by some miracle you read this, Bernice — you were the girl of my dreams, though I knew my dreams were just that… dreams, and they would never become reality.
The featured image is not Bernice but used with the kind permission of my friends at St. MacKenzies