John and Helen, 1976-1977

The first time John Rider saw Helen was at her interview at Christ's Church College, Oxford.

She was the other side of the common room, chatting to a third or fourth year medic he'd seen around college. He thought she was really pretty. Her blonde hair caught the sun streaming through the window behind her, and her dress hugged her in just the right way to still be professional.

He was in his second year and had volunteered to chat to PPE applicants. A question from a student about how tutorials worked drew his attention away from watching her, and when he looked up again she was gone.

The second time he saw her, it was the following October and they were both moving into their rooms in college. She was in the staircase on the other side of the quad to him. This time, he wandered over and it became the first time they officially met.

The third time, Helen saw him first. He was eating breakfast in the buttery, chatting to another boy. She clutched her tray in her hands to steady her nerves before striding up to the table.

"Hello, John? May I sit here?"

John looked up and smiled, recognising her immediately. "Good morning, Helen, of course. Medicine wasn't it? This is Simon, he's a fresher doing PPE. How are you settling into college?"

Then they both got swept up in the chaos of Michaelmas term and trying to keep up with the workload, but they would snatch a few moments here and there when they passed each other around college. And then John began to 'bump' into her in the library on weekend afternoons.

A week before the end of term, they had their first date. It went well.

Helen, February 1978

It was just before 10pm when Helen heard the knock on the door. She was still at her desk finishing off an essay under the light of the single desk lamp. Three anatomy textbooks lay open to diagrams of the nervous supply to the forearm.

"Just a minute!" She scribbled the last few sentences down. It would have to do. She crossed the room to swing open the door, expecting to see another fresher from her staircase. "Oh, John!"

"Surprise!" He was leaning against the door frame and grinned at her as she opened the door. His dark, nondescript outfit looked out of place. He stepped in the room, glancing over the open books on the desk. "I'm rescuing you from essays."

"Oh are you?" Helen quirked an eyebrow as she shut the door, cutting off the light from the corridor. There was enough from the desk lamp for her to negotiate around both John and the pile of textbooks in the middle of the floor to return to the desk. She flicked through the papers, putting them in order. "This one is due tomorrow before 9am, and I've got another for a tutorial at 3 which I've only drafted so far."

"Exactly, plenty of time." John stepped behind her, pressing up against her back. He ran his hands down her arms to encircle her wrists gently, stilling her hands. She felt a shiver when his lips brushed her bare neck as he spoke. "It's week six and you've barely had a day off. A couple of hours now and you'll be refreshed for tomorrow."

Helen leant back against him, the feel of his chest against her back. He was warm. And he smelled so nice. And she had been working all day. She twisted in his arms to face him and leaned up to kiss him quickly. "Just a few hours then. I have a dissection in the morning."

He grinned in victory and tightened his arms before releasing her and stepping back. "You'll need to wear comfortable dark clothes, something you can move in."

Helen frowned and looked down at her checked pyjamas she had changed into after dinner. She hadn't expected company, so changing was obvious, but that was an odd request. "Where are we going then?"

"That's a surprise too. Just something practical that you can run in."

Helen rolled her eyes at his non-answer and gave him a light push towards the door. "Okay Mr mystery, you win! Now out while I change!"

John laughed and flicked the light switch on as he let himself out. The door clicked shut behind him.

Helen smiled to herself. John was – something else. He was always exciting to be around, he always made her feel like the centre of the world. She shook her head. He couldn't just show up unannounced and demand her attention instantly though, however much she loved it. He could wait a few minutes now. She turned back to the desk and shut the textbooks, shifting them to on top of a stack on the chest of drawers. Her essay she left on the desk, but the other notes were quickly collected and shoved into the folder.

Crossing the room to the tiny ancient wardrobe fitted in an alcove, she opened the door and rifled around the pile of clothes folded in the bottom for something suitable. Dark jeans and a navy jumper was the closest she had, they'd have to do. She slipped them on and took a minute redo her ponytail and reapply lipstick, a muted red she wore every day. Socks and trainers followed.

Helen paused for a moment, looking around the room. She shoved some dirty clothes in the washing basket in the corner, straightened the bed, tucked the bin under the desk out of sight. The stack of books in the middle of the room were shifted towards the wall. That'll do, tidy enough if John comes back tonight, she mused. Although that depended what sort of surprise this was…

Helen slipped into her brown leather jacket, grabbed her keys and cross-body bag from the bookshelf next to the door, and exited room to find John leaning against the wall opposite, exchanging friendly small talk with the brunette girl, Katie, who lived opposite. He stood up straight when he saw Helen, giving Katie a quick goodbye as wished them to have a good evening and disappeared into her room again.

"So where are we going?" She tried to be serious but couldn't stop the smile twitching on her lips. He smirked, shaking his head and moving towards the staircase. With an exasperated sigh, Helen locked the door and shoved her keys in her bag before following him.

Once they reached the quad below, he reached out to grasp her hand, smiling at her. Out of XXX quad, and slipping past the porters to reach the street. He turned them right, past Pembroke College and the town hall, following the street to the right and taking the small street – more like an alleyway- between the high stone walls of Brasenose College and St Mary's Church. Helen knew this area well, like all Oxford students did. It was near the centre of the city, and she walked this route almost every day to the library, to lectures or to visit friends in neighbouring colleges.

Oxford looked vastly different at night. No tourists or cyclists to dodge, and the buildings were lit up against the night sky. It really was a pretty city.

As they neared the Radcliffe Camera, a tall dome set apart from other buildings, surrounded by metal railings, John checked behind them. They were alone.

"Trust me?" He whispered as he pulled her to the railings where they were closest to the building.

"John- I, yes, but what are you doing, you can't break into the Radcliffe!" Helen whispered furiously at him as he climbed over the 4 foot railings.

He turned back to her and gestured for her to do the same. "Come on, we won't get caught, trust me."

"John Rider, if you get me in trouble-" Helen looked around once more, confirming they were alone before clambering over. She was a lot less graceful, but John steadied her as she cleared the top and helped her jump down.

"This way." He went straight to the base of the tower, and began to climb. He was a story high in seconds. Helen looked around again, unsure, but then refocused on John. He was standing on the ledge formed between the different stone types of the tower. The bottom floor were large grey stone bricks, the first and second floors were the familiar smooth golden sandstone that made up so many of the buildings in Oxford.

She didn't have to do this, she thought, but something about John drew her forward. He was exciting, fun to be around. And she trusted him. There, decision made. Helen walked forward and placed her hands on the grey stones. Her fingers found the wide gaps between the stones, they made for strong handholds, and she bought her right leg up, wedging her toe in another gap. She looked up, took a breath and pushed her leg down, moving up the building. Ok, I can do this.

Another foot up. And another. Much slower than John, but she made it to the ledge next to him. At this level, the joins between the sandstone blocks here were smooth, so John shuffled a few steps around the tower to the square window, about four foot across and high, where the stone window surround jutted out. John climbed up to the top of the first window, and waved Helen to come up next to him. Once she drew level to the window, her feet onto the windowsill, she realised the problem too. The next window was about 3 foot above the first, with no handholds to grab to or places to put her feet between the two windows. She could stretch and reach, but she didn't do rock climbing, she wasn't skilled enough to go further, not like John.

"John-"

"I'll give you a hand, just lean as close into the window as you can. " John was quietly confident. Helen wasn't so sure. She glanced down, at the 15, 16ft drop onto hard, unforgiving paving below. Or worse- onto the metal railings.

"I can't do this, I'll fall-"

"You won't. I won't let you. And it'll be worth it at the top." When he wanted something, he was so charismatic, so charming, you believed every word. Helen felt caught by him, by his presence, by the adrenaline rushing through her, by the risk, by the excitement. Damn you John Rider. I hope I don't regret this.

"If I die, I will haunt you forever." She tossed at him. One hand on the next window, another held by John, she pulled herself up just high enough to get a foot on the top of the window and push herself up.

"I did it. Wow."

"Yes you did. Wait there a second." John effortlessly climbed up, using one foot braced against the column to his right to push upwards, while using the carved window surround to pull himself up high enough to get his left foot on the windowsill, and then smoothly he pushed his weight into that leg and rose upwards. This window was taller, allowing John to stand properly on the ledge look back down at her. "I'll pull you up again, just get your knee up onto the windowsill."

"On 3. 1, 2, 3-" He pulled steadily, leaning back into the window. All of Helen's weight held by him for a moment, a moment in time when her life was held in his hands, and then. Safety. Her knee found the ledge and she scrambled up, almost falling into John in her haste.

"Steady there, you did it!" He reached behind him and fumbled with the window. To Helen's surprise it lifted up. John hopped through, holding a hand out to guide Helen to jump down onto the floor too. She'd been inside the Radcliffe before of course, but not at night. It was deserted, pitch black inside and all locked up for the night. John pulled the window shut again.

"That one doesn't quite latch," he muttered, before fishing a torch out of his pocket and leading Helen towards the 'Private only' door across the room. "Can you hold the torch a sec?"

He rummaged in his other pocket and pulled out what must be lockpicks. Two slender metal rods with little hooks on the ends. Helen watched as he deftly manipulated the picks in the lock. It opened with an audible click and he pulled the door open to reveal a steep spiral staircase. They went up it, unbolted the door at the top, and then they were on the roof of the Radcliffe Camera, with the whole of Oxford laid out before them.

The view was stunning. It was a still, clear night, with what looked like hundreds of stars visible. And the old stone buildings that make up Oxford University were lit up against the night sky. Helen picked out Brasenose and All Souls colleges nearby, then further away she spotted Tom Tower, rising above Christ Church. The other side of the Radcliffe was the rest of the Bodleian library.

"isn't it beautiful?" John whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her. "No-one else gets to see this view."

"Yes. It's perfect."

Night climbing became a weekly, then twice-weekly occurrence for the rest of the year. Helen slowly got more and more comfortable with heights, and more skilled with climbing. They had some close calls with the porters, and on two occasions almost got caught.

Helen had never met anyone as exhilarating at John before.

John, May 1978

John leaned back against the domed roof behind him. Helen was nestled into his side. The blanket he'd stashed up here earlier was wrapped around them. Far below, at the bottom of the tower, was Christ Church's May Ball. Stalls with food, more alcohol than you could drink, music… And a firework show due to begin in a few minutes.

The crowd stirred, getting ready. They knew it would start in any moment, and some ball goers were jostling for position at the front of the crowd to get the best view. Other students who hadn't bought tickets to the ball were hanging out of their bedroom windows to watch the show.

"Best seat in the house here." He murmured and tightened his arms around Helen. She barely acknowledged him, eyes fixed on the sky, body taut with excitement. She still jumped at the first explosion lighting up the sky. Pops and bangs, whizzes and flashes. It was a good display, in time with the beat of the music.

Red light lit her face momentarily then green, then yellow, then a frenzied burst of bright, brilliant white. She was caught up in the show and didn't realise he was watching her instead of the fireworks. Her eyes were wide with wonder. Mini fireworks were reflected in them.

A tight feeling clenched in his stomach.

He didn't want to graduate this year and leave her. She was beautiful and clever and funny, and she was scared sometimes, but she still tried to keep up with him. None of the other girls he'd dated had been brave enough to attempt the climbs with him. He'd never gotten to share that with anyone else.

The fireworks finished. She sighed, and turned to him, eyes bright with excitement.

The twisting feeling remained.

She must have seen it, for her eyes dimmed and she pulled back, concerned. "John?"

"I, Helen- " He started, then stopped. Closed his eyes a moment and steeled himself. Do it. "Helen, will you marry me?"

"I, John, my degree -"

"- yes, sorry, I mean. Let me start again. I love you. I want you to graduate and be a brilliant doctor, I don't want to stop you doing that. But I'm going to Sandhurst in a few months. I don't want this to end- I want to spend my life with you. I didn't plan this, I haven't got a ring yet, but…"

The moment hung in the air. The words felt clumsy in his ears. What a terrible proposal. She was going to say no. He could feel his heart thudding, and the cool slick drip of sweat between his shoulder blades. He'd never been this nervous before. It had never mattered like this before.

"John- I love you too. Yes, always yes."

Her hands on his cheeks and velvet press of her lips. The lavender scent in her hair. The relief flooding through his veins as the wind stirred around them. The roar of the crowd below. She said yes. I'll remember this night forever.