Not Your Standard Love Story
At the start, I confess that I was more enamoured with my new (and first) bikini. It was gorgeous, with a pink floral print and a ruffle that adorned the top and straps. Murray, on the other hand, was extremely annoying. On the beach, he was always parking his towel way too close to mine, and then I would get sprayed with sand every time he got up to go for a swim.
Murray liked me; that was obvious. He was so keen that he even came with me to a film I wanted to see – Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet. But as the lights went up and I searched for a hanky, I saw my boyfriend’s filthy bare feet resting on the seat in front, and decided that Murray was not the Romeo of my dreams.
However, two years later, I changed my mind. After a lifetime of being little goody-two-shoes and always fitting in, I suddenly found myself on the outer at my snobby private girls’ school, and so non-conformist Murray instantly became much more desirable. He was completely different to everyone else, as he didn’t actually want to fit in. He railed against the injustices of the system and refused to blindly comply or follow. I fell in love with his rebellious spirit, his enthusiasm for life and his courage to be himself. I also found his cheeky grin absolutely irresistible.
However, when both of us began to head in very different directions, our relationship fell apart. We kept in touch, were occasional lovers, but always remained steadfast friends. With increasing horror, I watched the unravelling of Murray’s life and his descent into mental illness. I tried to help, but failed.
I was devastated by the loss of Murray when he died, and even more devastated that before his death, Murray had lost himself. This is the reason why I wrote An Uncommon Friend, which then became Off Track. For I needed to bring Murray back to life, the way he was. I wanted his brown eyes to shine again with mischief, and for him to shout anti-war poetry at the top of his voice. And I wanted us to lie once more on the beach at Shoreham, gazing up at the stars together, while we exchanged our innermost secrets. I wished to immortalize Murray forever.
So I wrote the story of Murray, and in this book, I transferred a lot of myself onto narrator Lucy, and I poured my love for Murray into her love for Scotchie. Some details I fictionalised while others I kept closer to the truth, for my aim always was to write a narrative that captured and celebrated his essence. I think I succeeded.
For when I hold this book in my hands, I feel that Murray does live within its pages.