The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel

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The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel Page 5

by Patrick C Notchtree


  Simon nodded enthusiastically. He liked space. Daniel liked Dan Dare and so did Simon, so 'Journey into Space' sounded very good.

  1954/9 A Death and a Car

  Simon came home from school to find Mummy already home from her part time journalism. But Mummy was, or just had been, crying.

  "Mummy, what's the matter?" he asked nervously. "Is Daddy in?" When Mummy was crying, it was usually something to do with Daddy. But Mummy shook her head.

  "No, darling." She paused, and drew her lips tight, trying to find the words to say. "Grandpa's died."

  Simon's grandparents were on the periphery of his life. Both pairs lived an hour's bus ride away but in opposite directions, and sometimes the family – well, Mummy, Frances and Simon – would go and see Grandpa and Nana Drummond, Daddy only went sometimes, but all went to see Grandpa and Grandma Scott. Of course.

  "Grandpa Drummond?" said Simon, although he was sure by Mummy's tears it was her Daddy. Mummy nodded. Simon moved to where Mummy was sitting and put his arms around her and he started to cry too. Because he knew he would never see Grandpa again, but mainly because Mummy was crying. A thought occurred to him.

  "Is Nana all right?"

  Mummy nodded. At that moment the back door opened and shut and the whirlwind that was Frances came through the kitchen.

  "I'm home," she called cheerfully to whoever might be listening, dropped her bag in the hall and was gone upstairs to the bathroom. Mummy disentangled herself from Simon's grasp and dried her face with a handkerchief just as Frances reappeared. Mummy and Simon turned to face her.

  "What?" said Frances, seeing that all was not as it should be. "Mummy, what's the matter?" she added now tuning in to Mummy's distress. Again that tightening of the lips. Simon intervened to save her the pain of having to say yet again.

  "Grandpa Drummond's died," he said.

  "Oh Mummy!" shrieked Frances, grief on her face and she flung her arms around Mummy. "When? What happened?" For Grandpa Drummond, although seeming old to Simon, was not that old.

  "Earlier today," said Mummy. "Lilian phoned. She's with Nana now. Heart attack." And Mummy cried again.

  "Does Daddy know?" asked the sensible Frances, recovering and moving into command mode with all the force of her thirteen years.

  Mummy nodded. "He's coming home as soon as he can."

  About an hour later, they were in the dining room trying to eat the small tea Frances had prepared when the front door opened. Daddy was home. Mummy got up and went into the hall, followed by Frances. Simon hung back, fearful of Daddy's reaction to this unique circumstance.

  "Oh Kate," was Daddy's voice. Simon ventured into the hall to see Daddy hugging Mummy tightly, his face upset and drawn. Then Frances started to cry again and joined in the hug. Soon all four were hugging, united by the shock of the news. It was a moment of rare family togetherness that Simon would long remember, and not just for the event that engendered it.

  Mummy went over to see Nana the next day in the village out in the country where they lived. Daddy had to go back to work and of course, Simon and Frances were at school. The funeral was held in the village a few days later, but this was held to be too upsetting for Simon to attend, although Frances went. So Simon went to school as usual, and by the time he came home, Mummy, Frances and Daddy were back home. Simon had wanted to go. He knew Grandpa Drummond as a kindly man who would take Simon down his large garden and pick blackcurrants for Nana to make a pie. He also kept hens and they would gather the eggs and check the fence was secure against foxes.

  Grandpa Drummond's death led to a major change in the family's lifestyle. Grandpa Drummond's pride and joy was his Wolseley Series III, but Nana couldn't drive. Neither could Mummy's sister, Auntie Rose who lived down near London anyway. But Mummy could drive. Grandpa Drummond had taught his older daughter even before she had met Daddy, or in that phrase with which Simon was so familiar, 'before the war'. So it was, that one day when Simon was walking home from school, he and Daniel came up the hill from the main road to the corner.

  "You've got visitors," said Daniel. Simon looked along from the junction to his house. Outside was a big black car. In Simon's road, only Mr. Searle had a car, an old Rover and it was always in bits. Sometimes Simon had gone to watch and was fascinated by the engine parts, laid out on the floor. How was it that this jumble of metal of all sorts of shapes, could when properly assembled, come alive with power, energy and motion? At the far end of the road, Mr Millward had a Morris 8. So a car parked outside a house was noteworthy. It took a moment for Simon to register.

  "It's my Grandpa's car."

  "The one that's died?" queried Daniel. Simon nodded. He was puzzled, and hesitated. He wasn't sure what to do. Daniel sensed his friend's uncertainty and he was also very curious.

  "I'll come with you if you want," he offered. Simon nodded and the two boys went round to the back door and in through the kitchen. Mummy was in the dining room, getting tea ready.

  "Oh, hello Daniel," said Mummy.

  "Hello Mrs Scott," said Daniel respectfully, but nudging Simon at the same time. Taking the hint, Simon asked the burning question.

  "What's Grandpa's car here for?"

  "Well, Nana can't drive, so until things are sorted out, I'm using it."

  "You mean it's ours?" exclaimed Simon gleefully.

  "Just for the time being," said Mummy, and her further explanation about settling the estate was lost in whoops of joy from Simon, with Daniel joining in.

  "Can we go out in it?" said Simon.

  "Don't be silly, Simon," said Mummy. "Frances will be home soon and I'm getting tea ready."

  Faced with two boys' faces looking disappointed, she continued, "Maybe after tea just for a short run."

  "Can Daniel come?" asked Simon.

  "I expect so," said Mummy. "Daniel, would you like some tea?"

  Daniel hesitated. He was cautious about getting trapped at Simon's house for he too shared Simon's apprehension of his father, but the prospect of a ride in the luxurious Wolseley proved too much.

  "Yes please," he said, and noted Simon's pleasure at his acceptance. He rarely did and it was far more common for Simon to go to Daniel's for tea than the other way round.

  "You'd better tell your mother then," said Mummy.

  "OK, back in a minute!" and Daniel fled, keen to get back as quickly as possible in case the car vanished while he was away.

  Annoyingly, his mother insisted on him putting his school things away and getting properly washed before going back round the corner to Simon's. He needn't have worried. He ran round the corner and the car was still exactly where it had been an age earlier.

  "That was quick," said Mummy when Daniel reappeared panting in the back doorway. "Come on in."

  Frances now arrived and much of the scene was repeated.

  "Mummy's taking us out for a ride after tea," announced Simon. Frances shot a questioning look at Mummy, who simply nodded as she put the last tea things on the table.

  "I'm sitting in the front, then," said Frances, with a look that challenged Simon, or Mummy for that matter, to deny it. But Simon was not taken aback by this.

  "OK," he said. "Daniel and I will be in the back."

  "Won't you be in the front, Mrs Scott," asked Daniel puzzled. His father could drive, and there had been talk of buying a car, but his mother couldn't drive as far as Daniel knew anyway.

  "I hope so," replied Mummy, laughing. "It's hard to drive from anywhere else."

  Daniel's face flushed with his mistake. "I'm sorry, Mrs Scott, I just thought Mr Scott…" His voice tailed off.

  "That's all right, Daniel," said Mummy. "I can drive. I learned before the war. Simon's Daddy can't drive." And with that, for some reason neither Simon nor Daniel could fathom, she burst out laughing. Soon everybody had the giggles.

  "But Daddy can fly a plane," said Simon, loyally.

  "So can I!" said Mummy, with another burst of laughter.

  "You're a pilot?" asked an astounded
Daniel.

  "I learned to fly before the war," said Mummy. "I had a friend at the local flying club."

  "Did you fly Spitfires?" asked Simon, equally amazed by these revelations.

  "I wish I had," said Mummy. "I wanted to, as a ferry pilot, but I'm not tall enough. I would love to have flown a Spitfire."

  "What planes did you fly, Mrs Scott," asked Daniel, a little more composed, while Simon wondered how one could fly a ferry.

  "Just one," said Mummy. "Tiger Moth. Lovely little aeroplane."

  Mummy continued to talk of her pre-war flying days and the light mood lasted through tea, eaten rather hurriedly so as to hasten the car ride.

  Simon and Daniel climbed into the back seat and sprawled on the brown leather. It had a posh smell, thought Simon. Of course he had ridden in the car once or twice before when Grandpa drove it, but this was special. Mummy was going to drive and Daniel was with him. Simon was pleased that he had a car before Daniel, but also pleased that his friend was there to share the moment.

  "Sit properly," said Mummy.

  "Boys," remarked Frances scornfully from her front seat status.

  Mummy pulled out the choke, turned the ignition key and pressed the starter button to start the engine and they were off. Simon revelled in the car, he had chosen the nearside, hoping to be seen by as many people as possible while they drove around. As the car swept down the hill to the main road, they passed a couple of boys they knew, but sadly they barely gave the passing Wolseley a glance. Still, nothing should detract from the joy of this moment.

  "Let's pretend this is Discovery," said Simon.

  "I'm Jet Morgan then," said Daniel, instantly understanding the reference to 'Journey into Space' that had both boys, and the country, enthralled.

  "The other cars can be the freighters," said Simon. Then Daniel pulled a strange face and holding his arms in front of him intoning, "I'm Whitaker from freighter number six." He then moved closer to Simon in a scary way.

  Simon pushed him off.

  "Will you sit still please boys," said Mummy. "It's very distracting and I'm still getting used to the car."

  So the boys fell silent for a time as the game hadn't been such a good idea after all. But soon they were chatting again. Simon from his seat could see Mummy driving, the movement of her hands and feet creating a sort of poetic ballet that translated into the speed and power of the Wolseley.

  The drive lasted about half an hour and took them out into the countryside that in those days was so close to the city. Going along the country roads familiar to both boys from their bike rides, it seemed so quick compared to the effort involved in pedalling so far. All too soon they were back.

  "Thank you for taking me," said Daniel dutifully.

  "No trouble Daniel," said Mummy, "glad you enjoyed it." Lovely manners, that boy, she thought.

  Duty done, Daniel poked Simon and said loudly, "Coming round mine?"

  Simon looked at Mummy, who simply said, "Don't be late."

  "Race yer!" shouted Daniel, and the two boys ran off, Simon overhauling Daniel to beat him round the corner to Daniel's house.

  "You're faster than Roger Bannister," panted Daniel. Now the roles were reversed in terms of decorum.

  "I'm back Mummy," shouted Daniel. "We went for ride in Simon's new car."

  "New car?" said Daniel's father, looking up from a book, suddenly interested.

  "Hello, Mr Gray, Mrs Gray," said Simon. "It's not new, it was my Grandpa's car but he died."

  "Yes, Daniel told us about that. I'm sorry," said Mrs Gray. Simon was puzzled for a moment until it dawned on him she was sorry about Grandpa, not the car.

  "It's like a police car, only a lot posher," said Daniel by way of explanation to his father.

  "Ah, I saw it when I came home," said Mr Gray. "I wondered about that."

  "Can we get a car, Daddy?" said Daniel. His father was often collected and brought home in a car, and sometimes he drove one, but he had never felt the need for one of his own.

  "Maybe, just maybe," he said, ruffling Daniel's dark hair, and smiling.

  "When did this happen?" asked Mrs Gray.

  "I wasn't going to say anything until it was certain, but it looks like I've got the promotion," Mr Gray smiled.

  "Darling, that's wonderful," said Mrs Gray, beaming with delight.

  "Yes!" shouted Daniel leaping up and down. He looked at Simon expectantly, waiting for enthusiasm. Simon responded with as vigorous a nodding as he could muster.

  "You won't have to move, will you?" asked Mrs Gray suddenly. Everybody froze for a moment. Move? Away? Simon and Daniel exchanged worried looks.

  "No, right here in the city," said Mr Gray, looking pleased.

  "What'll that make you, Daddy?" asked Daniel.

  "Chief Superintendent, Daniel," said Mr Gray, still grinning. "But it has to be confirmed."

  "And can we get a car then?" persisted Daniel.

  "Maybe, Daniel, maybe," said his father.

  "You might be Chief Constable one day," said Mrs Gray. "It's true that some are now being promoted from the ranks instead of this daft idea of bringing in these ex army colonels and the like."

  "Sir Malcolm is an excellent Chief Constable," replied Mr Gray loyally. "But he can't go on forever either," he added mischievously with a grin just like Daniel's.

  At that point Daniel's older sister Louise arrived, and the whole scene had to be rerun.

  Daniel soon afterwards gave Simon the news that the promotion was confirmed. A few weeks later a small Ford car appeared on the driveway of Daniel's house. Not as posh as the Wolseley, but as Simon quickly pointed out in compensation, the Wolseley didn't really belong to his family.

  Mr Harrison two doors along from Simon got a Ford Prefect soon after. The motor age was arriving.

  1955/8 Lakes in the Wolseley

  The monotonous hum of the windscreen wipers, back and forth, back and forth. Everywhere seemed so wet. It was the end of a long journey from home to the Lake District. Simon looked through the trees across the broad lake and to the mountains. Having the Wolseley meant his horizons had been opened up with drives to the Peak District, more frequent visits to both grandmothers and a variety of days out. It had helped Mummy too because she had been able to take on more work, and was on the radio now as well as in the newspaper. But it meant she was away from home sometimes at the weekends making the radio programmes at different places. Then, Daddy would be at home all the time, but thankfully he was often busy and left Simon pretty much to own devices. Simon went out with Daniel most of the time. But now they were here. The trips to Westward Ho were over and this, making use of their temporary windfall, was the summer holiday.

  "Are we nearly there yet, Mummy?" asked Simon, yet again.

  "Almost, darling," she replied. "I think it's just along here." Suddenly the trees cleared and there was a view right across the lake. There was a wooden boat with people on it in the distance, and the rain seemed to be stopping. The sun was just over the tops of the mountains opposite.

  "Yes, I think this is it," said Mummy, and steered the big car off the road and through a gateway.

  Daddy drew in his breath sharply. "Careful Kate, you nearly hit the gatepost."

  "There was plenty of room," she snapped. Simon thought Mummy was an expert driver and now she was really used to the Wolseley she handled it well, just like her Tiger Moth she said. But Mummy's tone of voice showed Simon and Frances that she was tired. The car went up a long drive with a field on one side, and a large white building up ahead with a few cars parked in front of it. Mummy brought the big car to a stop on the gravel and turned off the engine. The rain had stopped and there was evening sunshine.

  "Everybody help get the stuff in," said Daddy. The two children were out of the car and busy hauling cases out of the boot. Simon felt suddenly excited, all tiredness gone. Spread before him was the large field in front of the hotel, beyond that the lake and mountains, the sun now settling behind them, their flanks in sh
adow. Over to the right a large mountain was still catching the sun on its upper slopes. Simon thought it was beautiful.

  "Come on, Simon, help with the luggage!" Daddy's urging brought Simon out of his reverie and he picked up a suitcase and struggling, took it to the door of the hotel, following Frances. A young woman came and took it from him.

  "Please. I must help you," she said. She was dressed in a maid's uniform, and Simon thought she spoke in a funny way. That must be how they speak here, he thought. But then Mummy was talking to a man behind the large, polished wooden counter in the hallway.

  "Scott," he said, turning the pages of a large book. "Ah yes, here we are. Scott," he repeated, in quite a normal voice, Simon thought. "Zelda, rooms fourteen and fifteen."

  "Fourteen and fifteen," the maid repeated in her precise tones. "Feartsayn, foonftsayn." Simon wondered what that meant.

  Zelda led the way up the large carpeted staircase with panelled walls, with the family following behind, Simon now with a smaller bag, Zelda still carrying Simon's. Daddy said something to Zelda he couldn't understand, sounding like 'zindsee doitch.' but Zelda nodded and said "Yar." Simon thought this a peculiar Lake District custom that Daddy knew about.

  "She's German," said Daddy to Mummy.

  "I gathered that," said Mummy, her tiredness still apparent. They put the bags in the rooms and Daddy said something to Zelda who said 'Bitter' back and smiled. She winked at Simon as she left the room. Frances lost no time.

  "This is my bed," she said, using the authority of her fourteen years to bag the bed near the window.

  "We're just next door, children," said Mummy.

  "Who's for a walk before dinner?" said Daddy brightly.

  "I'm going to have a lie down," said Mummy. "I've driven all that way, and I'm tired."

  "You've just been sitting down all the time, how can you be tired?" said Daddy. Mummy looked furious.

  "Well, weren't you just sitting down all the time you flew to Berlin and back or wherever? You got tired."

 

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