The Earliest Days of Trenna AND Greg – Part 1

How We Got Together

by Greg

Relief

I can still remember it clearly, really clearly. I took Trenna’s hand and looked into those enormous brown eyes.

“Do you like me?” It sounds pretty stupid now but I had to find out what was happening inside that complex brain of hers. I couldn’t believe how well things seemed to be going between us.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead she took a sip of her glass of Moondah Brook Chenin Blanc, her long slender fingers with beautiful nails letting the glass linger near her lips.

She sort of tilted her head to her left, and her face looked a little more serious.

“Well… No”. My heart jumped to my mouth, but before I could fully register the emotion she continued. “I love you.”

“Well, I love you” I lamely replied, my heart skipping my brain swirling, my lips smiling so wide.

But it didn’t start that way….

Evo’s Going Away Party

It was the second night of January 1988. I know this for sure – Trenna kept a record of it!

The party was the third party at the same house in about a week – those poor neighbours.

There had been a joint 30th Birthday party for myself, my friend Jane, and my friend Colin Joyce. We had a 10 gallon keg of beer to knock off as my mates had promised me one if I shaved off my beard by my 30th Birthday.

Joycee and Christine had volunteered their back yard in Mount Pleasant (the suburb I had grown up in) for all three parties.

The second party a few days later was for New Years Eve, and then there was this one to celebrate Evo getting a job in the USA. He would be leaving soon.

A Late Start

On this particular January night as the party got underway I was in Fremantle at the opening of an exhibition by young artist Mike Starkie. Mike was a printmaking student and I had met him though my work at the WAIT Student Guild.

I was wearing my usual jeans and blue Adidas Hurricane’s, and, as it was an arty event I had on my most arty tee shirt. It pictured a reproduction of a poster commemorating the 70th anniversary of the establishment of the USSR.

I had bought it via mail order through a left wing socialist magazine. I’d worn it a few times before, it was a real favourite.

I was quite taken by Mike Starkie’s work, and the wine was nice. Before I knew it I had purchased my first ever art work.

Time was marching on so I wished Mike all the best and made the 15 minute drive to Joycee’s place for the going away party.

As I arrived it was clear the party was in full swing. Music thumped out from Eggs’ Kenwood stereo. Evo had put on an 18 gallon keg of Swan Draught and guests were making light work of it. Steve (Evo) was definitely making the most of the opportunity.

The weather was warm, but not too hot, a lovely Perth Summer evening.

I wandered through the crowd in Colin and Christine’s sizeable back yard, saying “Hi” to people I knew, providing explanations as to why I was late, and generally just making sure all my mates knew I had arrived.

Over on the left hand side I spotted Trenna and a couple of her, (and Evo’s) mates from their work, Linda and her husband Colin.

“Oh yes” I thought, she is that gorgeous woman I’ve seen at Cine Cellars a couple of times. “What do I remember….”

Cine Cellars

A few weeks earlier Evo had pointed out that he was going to the USA soon so there weren’t too many more opportunities I’d have to have a drink with him after work on a Friday. (CineCellars gets a mention here.) So I and a bunch of other mates piled into the small, dark, smokey, crowded venue one Friday in December 1987.

As usual Evo, Trenna, Wolfgang, Self Destruct and others were were getting stuck into it. There were a lot of other people in the bar.

I don’t exactly recall how it happened but at some point someone suggested that Trenna dare me to do a moon (pull down my pants and show her my backside). I heard Evo say to her “Oh, Greg’s a really shy, quiet sort of guy, he wouldn’t do it”. I’m sure Evo must have had his fingers crossed.

You can guess what happened next.

My main concern was that I would be kicked out, but apparently no one in authority saw it, or perhaps they just didn’t care. Trenna was shrieking and cackling and Evo had roars of laughter.

Eventually we all decided it was time to go home. The cool fresh air as we emerged onto Murray Street in the city was ultra refreshing.

“I’m getting a kebab” slurred Evo, “d’yawanna come?”.

“Sure” I replied.

“I’ll walk that way” said Trenna.

As we went along the pavement I was prodding Evo trying to tell him that I thought it was clear that Trenna fancied him, and that perhaps he should go home with her. He brushed me off with a clear “No”. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

Trenna spotted a taxi and hailed it. It stopped, Evo opened the back door for her, gave her a peck on the cheek, and she was gone.

The kebab was good and I tried hard not to spill the sauce down the front of my favourite 70th Anniversary of the Russian Revolution tee shirt.

Back to the Party

I knew that I had had a very bushy beard just a couple of weeks earlier when I had seen Trenna get into that taxi and disappear. I didn’t think she would recognise me clean shaven.

Still, I ought to say hullo.

As I approached their group Trenna went “oh, Hi Greg”. I was impressed. She revealed much later that I was totally unrecognisable to her, but that she had taken a punt, based on the fact I was wearing the same tee shirt.

We started chatting and the conversation flowed freely.

“Sorry I’m late” I explained. “I had to go to an exhibition opening by a friend of mine who’s an artist. I bought one of his prints” as if this was something I did all the time.

Trenna had never met anyone who had bought an artwork before and this definately counted in my favour. Of course, she commented on my clean shaven appearance, and a little later mentioned that she had given up smoking as a New Year’s resolution. I was impressed that this apparently was not difficult for her to do.

I remember a bit later I was in the kitchen, drinking water trying to stave off yet another potential hangover. As luck would have it Trenna passed by and we started talking again.

Linda appeared, her husband Colin nearby, and said “come on, we’re going Tren”. Then summing up the situation, “unless … you’re staying?”.

“Oh no. I’ll get a lift home with you guys. Seeya Greg, nice talking to you.” She turned and started to walk away.

“Well, have you given him your number?” Linda asked her.

“No she hasn’t” I desperately cried.

“Well, um, I don’t know…” Trenna responded and started to move away again. But then stopped. Linda was rummaging through her bag to find a pen and paper.

She then said, “here, I’ll give it to you” as she wrote down the eight digits of Trenna’s home phone number.

“Linda!” Trenna said in mock admonishment.

I gleefully took the proffered bus ticket and followed the small group out to Colin and Linda’s car.

“Um, you don’t have to go” I said hopefully as Trenna folded her long legs into the back seat.

“No, I’m ready to go. Thanks. See ya.”

I watched thoughtfully as the car disappeared down the street.

What To Do With This Bit Of Paper?

It had been a couple of days since the party and I held the tatty bus ticket with the phone number in my hand. She seemed like a nice person, but I wasn’t sure that she was my type.

And anyway, the friend had given me the number, not Trenna. And, she hadn’t wanted to stay longer at the party, even though I and Linda had invited her to.

What was really happening was a manifestation of my insecurities and lack of confidence, especially when it came to women. What to do?

I made a decision. I would think about it for a couple more days.

It kept haunting me. There was definitely something about her. I could just try and see how it went – couldn’t I.

Geeze. I’m 30 years old I must be able to ring up a woman and ask her out.

I Call

I have very little recollection of that call, but it obviously worked. We had a date for the next day, Friday 8 January 1988.

I had found out that she lived in the suburb of Girrawheen. That was miles away! Hmmm! Still I put on my best aftershave and headed over in my Toyota Corolla Station Wagon.

I got there on time and Trenna was ready to go. She had on a grey mid-calf length skirt, and a light blue shirt buttoned to her neck and topped off with a brooch. If I had to describe her look on that night I would say, “demure”.

When we pulled up outside the restaurant I said “It’s BYO, do you prefer red wine, or white?”

“White” she replied.

I nonchalantly came back, “oh that’s good, because that’s what I brought with me”.

Reaching under the driver’s seat I pulled out a chilled bottle of white wine. (Unbeknown to Trenna, I had a red under the other seat!)

“Wait, what wine is that?” She said with an inflection at the end of the sentence.

“Ah, Moondah Brook Chenin Blanc, is that OK?”

“What year?” I was getting worried now.

“Umm, (looking at the label) 1986”

“No way! That’s my favourite wine!” Yo-ho I thought, I’m on my way here.

I had chosen The Shalimar restaurant, an Indian one I had been to once before. I didn’t know it then, but Trenna had never been to an Indian restaurant which is probably why she let me pick the dishes.

The food was pretty hot, but I couldn’t have been happier about the way the conversation went. She was so easy to talk to. Conversation flowed freely with no awkward pauses.

There was one thing though…. I considered that I had a really good knowledge of Australian music of the 1960s and 1970s, but Trenna seemed to know at least as much as me. How was this possible, unless… Is she several years older than me. We hadn’t talked about how old we were. She didn’t look older….

My opportunity came shortly after, Trenna excused herself and went to the toilet, and she left her purse on the table.

Oh, I can’t I thought.

Yeah, I can. I slipped open her purse and it was obvious where her driver’s licence was. I looked. She was older, but only by 3 and a half months. I slipped it back and bided my time until she returned.

At that point I asked her how old she was… “Oh, that’s the same as me. How come you know so much about Australian music?” If you have read other posts on this site you will know it was from her much older sisters.

That inevitably led to discussions about family and I was both shocked and intrigued by the story she had to tell.

In conclusion she pointed out that as she was already 30 years old she was likely to die some time in the next few years. Somehow she was able to convey this in a way that was both poignant, but not sad or maudlin.

The pleasant mood of the night wasn’t altered, it’s weird, but I just thought it made her sound more interesting. I really wanted to get to know this woman more.

As we left the restaurant I said “where would you like to go now? We could go for a drive, or, we could go to your place…”

“No, no, let’s go for a drive. What about Hillarys Marina, they have almost finished building it.”

This was news to me. I was vaguely aware of some marina being built in the Northern suburbs but where it was or what it was I had no idea.

“Great idea – you’ll have to help navigate”.

Short Shrift

The Marina development was quite impressive, and since it was January in Perth it was very pleasant being near the ocean. We found ourselves at the top of a tower overlooking the marina and I put my arm around Trenna and she seemed receptive.

I’m not even sure if I got a kiss in at that point, but almost immediately she said “I think I want to go home”. And it was delivered in a tone that wasn’t all that encouraging.

“OH!!!” I thought.

“O, alright, no problem” I said.

I was worried. This was sudden. What had I done wrong?

15 minutes later we pulled up outside Trenna’s duplex at 52A Blackmore Avenue.

As soon as I stopped she had the door open and starting to get out.

“I’ll see you to your door.”

“No. It’s alright. Thanks”

“Well is it OK if I ring you?”

“Yes. Goodnight!” And with that she was gone.

I watched as she went to the door and entered the house. She didn’t even look back.

I sat there for a moment, wondering how it had gone. That was a very weird ending to the night.

As I slowly drove off I reflected on the night, the conversation, the common experiences, the fabulous smiles. Yes, it had gone well.

“Yes!” I yelled as I punched the air.

“Ouch!” I yelled as I hit the roof.

End of Part 1…

Part 2 starts HERE!