The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (21 page)

Lying together on the
groundsheet in the long grass, they let the heat of the summer sun
warm their bare skin as they enjoyed each other's companionship,
nudity and sensual pleasure. After Simon had brought Daniel off,
they lay close in the summer sun.

"I wish I could do it for you,"
said Daniel. "You get so close sometimes, I think."

"It's OK," said Simon. "I like
it when you come off."

"No," said Daniel firmly. "Sex
is about giving, and I feel as if I'm doing all the taking."

"You wait," smiled Simon, "I'll
make up for it, and then you can pay me back."

"You're on," said Daniel,
laughing.

They wrestled with each other on
the groundsheet, perspiring with the effort until either they both
gave up with the exertion or Daniel had Simon pinned down, bringing
the bout to an end.

As they lay, a familiar but
wonderful sound filled the air. Both boys recognised the
distinctive song of a Merlin engine immediately and looked at each
other, eyes full of anticipation and wonderment before searching
the sky. And there it was, its gull wings clear against the sky – a
Spitfire! It came over the hill and flew low across the airfield
below them before climbing away again and heading off into the
distance. It capped a perfect afternoon for the two boys.

On one occasion, they were lying
together in the sun on the groundsheet, when Daniel gripped Simon
tightly. "Don't move, Simon" he said. There was fear in Daniel's
voice.

"What's the matter? Someone
coming?"

"No," whispered Daniel. "A
snake, right behind you. An adder." Daniel watched as the snake,
its zigzag markings identifying it as England's only poisonous
snake, moved slowly from the long grass onto the edge of the
groundsheet.

"Where is it?" asked Simon in a
whisper, lying frozen on his side facing Daniel.

Daniel, looking over Simon's
shoulder, could see the reptile. "About four inches from your bum.
Keep still." Terrified, Simon lay still in Daniel's grasp. "It's
going," said Daniel again, as the snake slid back into the long
grass and disappeared. "Gone," said Daniel, relieved.

"Isn't it safe here?" asked
Simon.

"Course it is," said Daniel.
"They're quite rare, and it's only coz we were lying still it came,
I'm sure. Probably was as surprised to see us as we were to see
it."

"I'm glad it didn't bite
me."

"Would've been a job explaining
how a snake bit your bare bum," said Daniel, and they both laughed,
tension gone.

1. 1957/8
   Salcombe
   

As every summer, the two friends
were parted and there was a gap in their times together when their
families went off on their annual holiday. The middle two weeks of
August were favoured by both families, but when they did not
coincide exactly, both boys felt at a loose end waiting for the
other to return. There was always one week away in common so the
most one would be at home without the other would be a week. They
usually went in opposite directions with both households now having
cars, the Grays often heading for Scotland, while the Scotts
retained their affiliation with Devon. Not to Westward Ho anymore
but to Salcombe, in the far south of that county.

For Simon, the adventure started
before that, as he had become the family's navigator. Bitter
experience had taught the family to avoid the Exeter by-pass where
traffic came to a halt on holiday Saturdays with miles of queuing
cars funnelling into the county from far and wide. Simon would
study the maps and find new ways to reach Salcombe without hitting
the jams. From a predawn start, his route took them down the
Fosseway through Moreton-in-Marsh, Stow-on-the-Wold,
Bourton-on-the-Water and then across country via Shepton Mallet
towards Honiton, but then no further, as often the queues from the
Exeter By pass could stretch that far. Simon would navigate across
country, keeping the car moving through leafy Devon lanes with
their high hedges past Crediton, Tedburn St Mary and eventually to
Totnes and then south to Salcombe. There was always a competition
for who would be the first to see the sea.

The hotel was just south
of the town, with gardens reaching down to the shore and its own
moorings in the shelter of the large inlet known as the estuary. It
was these moorings that were the source of Simon's delight at being
in Salcombe. The hotel had its own little open motor boat,
Invention
, which was hired for him
for the two weeks each year. Despite remaining a total non swimmer,
Simon became adept at boat handling and found a role as a ferryman
for his family and the others with whom they met up each year.
Simon would ferry people across to the beaches and up to the town
jetty by the Ferry Inn. He had a chart of the estuary and his boat
was often seen exploring the creeks, and when the tide was right,
as far as Kingsbridge.

Simon developed a
technique of running the boat's bow onto the beach and digging the
boathook into the sand to stop
Invention
being pushed broadside on to the
beach, which would have stranded it, possibly damaging the
propeller and it would have been a disaster. This worked well at
the relatively sheltered Mill Bay and Telegraph Bay which were
favourites, but Sunny Cove had much rougher waves as a rule and
Simon could only hold the boat for so long, so people had to be
quick on and off. He would then push the lever for full astern and
as
Invention
backed off the
sand, grab the boathook in one deft movement. If he was staying on
the beach, he took
Invention
out into three or four feet of water, tested by the boathook,
anchored it securely and then dropped over the side and waded
ashore. He kept a check on the state of the tide and would
periodically move the boat, away if the tide was going out, closer
if it were coming in, so that he could always wade out and haul
himself aboard again.

So for two weeks each August,
Simon was on top of the world. They met up with the same families
each year and together formed a friendly group, Simon friends with
boys around his own age whom he would ride around with in the motor
boat. Mum and Dad didn't argue, Frances made friends with some
older boys who had their own sailing boat, a National 12 foot, in
which they competed in the annual regatta. Simon too learned to
sail and developed a love of being on the water, if not in it.

A particular friend was
Jack Griffin, who was from London and whom they met up with each
year. He was a few months younger than Simon, blond, blue eyed. He
was keen on sailing and would help crew his parents' Enterprise
dinghy. Over the years a regular routine developed whereby the two
boys would get up early and meet at the moorings, row the pram
dinghy out to
Invention's
mooring buoy and set off up the estuary to pick up a can of
fuel from a boatyard which opened up at seven o'clock near the
Ferry Inn. Often the boys were there waiting for it to be
opened.
Invention
was known
of course and the fuel was charged to the hotel's
account.

There was the time on this
early morning run that they got into trouble. Carefree and happy
together, as
Invention
chugged up the estuary, they burst into song.

"Volare, oh oh

E contare, oh oh oh oh

Nel blu, dipinto di blu

Felice di stare lassu …"

In the quiet of the early
morning when only hotel staff were up preparing the many breakfasts
to be served in Salcombe that morning, two young voices echoing
across the town and up the sides of the estuary raised a barrage of
complaints which of course came straight back to the hotel, as the
boat's ownership was recognised. But they managed to retain the use
of the boat, sworn to early morning silence. They remained friends
and when it came to depart, it was always,

"See you next year, Jack?"

"Yes, see you then, Simon."

The two weeks seemed to last for
ever to Simon while he was in Salcombe, but when it came to an end,
it seemed to have lasted no time at all. The journey home was
always more subdued, Simon with very mixed feelings, worried each
time about the new school year, knowing that once away from the
magical world away from the world that was Salcombe each year,
everything at home would be back the way it was; yet keen to see
Daniel, hoping that all would be well and that in the fortnight
away from him, somehow things hadn't changed. One of Simon's first
tasks he set himself when he got back home was to construct a
calendar on which he could count down the days until the family
would be setting off again to their escape from reality. That hope
and his friendship with Daniel were his anchors in his troubled
life.

With regard to Daniel, he need
never have worried. As soon as the two were back together,
recounting their various holiday adventures, it was as though they
had never been apart, and they resumed their routine.

On one of their visits to the
aerodrome hill as the summer holiday drew to an end, Simon voiced a
worry he had about Hooray Henrys to Daniel. One aspect that worried
Simon was the ritual that the new boys, called fags, would be
chased by groups of older boys and their trousers and pants pulled
down, known as debagging.

"All the fags get it done to
them," said Daniel.

"Even you?"

"Yes, you know. I told you last
year."

The thought of his dear friend
being set upon, overpowered and humiliated upset Simon.

"It's OK," said Daniel,
noticing. "It happens to everyone and then it's done."

"I thought that friend of yours
from Scouts …"

"Evans?"

"Yes, Evans. I thought he was
going to look after you. Couldn't he stop them?"

"Yes, he could have I suppose,
but that would have been the worst thing he could've done. It's
like a way of showing that you can take it, and if you can't,
nobody will be your friend. They'll think you're soft."

"So what do you do?"

"When the second years catch
you, it's best to put up a bit of a fight to show you can, but
they're bound to get you coz there'll be so many. Main thing is not
to cry, whatever you do. It's quite quick really."

"Do they do anything else? I
mean, like this, us?"

"Oh no. As soon as they've
pulled 'em down and seen your cock, they're off to get the next
fag. And that reminds me, whatever you do, don't get a hard on. A
kid in my class did that and they call him a queer now."

"How do you stop yourself if it
wants to?"

"Do what I did. I was saying my
times tables to myself in my head."

"Don't the teachers stop
it?"

"Teachers never come out on the
field, which is where it happens, they leave it to the prefects and
they all had it done when they were fags and did to the new fags
when they were second years."

"You'll be a second year when I
start."

Daniel grinned. "That's
true."

"So just stay off the field
then?"

"No. They'll know you're hiding
and then it's worse. A kid in my year tried and some got him in the
toilets, stripped him completely and shoved his head down the
toilet. I heard they pissed on him. He's never been the same since.
Mind you, I don't know what he was like before. He's not in my
class. Best just go down to the field and get it over with. Make
sure you've got clean underpants on too. You'll be OK, I promise.
Scout's honour."

Simon knew that when Daniel said
that, he really meant it, and felt a little reassured.

1. 1957/9 Off to Hooray
   Henrys
   

That summer was Simon's last
with his few friends from his neighbourhood. He was the only one to
go to Henrys, a couple of other boys went to the Grammar Tech, most
went to Vicks. Their lives gradually separated, drawing him even
closer to Daniel if that were possible.

But that first day came, and as
arranged, they met at the corner as usual, Simon now proudly
wearing the coveted green blazer and long grey trousers like Daniel
but at just eleven years old, anxious about what lay ahead. On the
bus there were some other new Henrys kids and a lot of scared
looking young kids in new Victoria Road uniforms.

"Remember what I said, you have
to let them get you in the end, don't cry, and say your tables in
your head," smiled Daniel. "Don't want any unexpected standing to
attention."

Simon had to smile despite his
nerves. He watched as the junior kids got off, one or two saying
hello to Simon and Daniel, and the bus continued its journey.

Off the bus, they walked towards
the gates of King Henry VII Grammar School for Boys. Just inside
the gates, there was a large group of green blazers, all looking
very new, fags gathered together like fish in a shoal, seeking
protection from sharks.

"When will it happen?"

"Maybe now, but most probably
morning break or dinner time. Look, I have to go. I can't stay with
you, it's not done. See that group of trees over there?" Daniel
pointed across the school field.

"Yes," said Simon.

"At morning break, get down
there as quickly as you can and stay there."

"Why?"

"You'll see," said Daniel, and
left, pushing Simon toward the shoal.

Simon went over to the sea of
strange faces, most looking as scared as he felt.

"Hey, Simon!" came a familiar
cheery voice. Peter. Never was Simon so glad to see Peter
Holman.

"Hiya Peter."

Peter came close. "Is it true
they pull your pants down?"

Simon nodded. "Whatever you do
don't cry, and don't get a hard on."

Peter looked surprised at this,
but nodded. "OK. I'll remember. You're a pal, Simon."