Miss Day searched for a way out.
"It's when someone is illegitimate, Barry," she said relieved, hoping that would suffice. It didn't.
"Illy-what, Miss?" posed Barry Spence, putting his innocent looking expression to good use.
"It means, well, er.. I suppose that the person should never have been born, in a way." She paused for a moment's thought. "When someone......"
The bell rang shrilly in the corridor outside the classroom, and Miss Day stopped, relieved.
"Put your things away and go out to play," she said, and, picking up her handbag, hastened out to the staffroom, hoping the kettle was boiled ready for a cup of tea. Thank God that lesson was over. Never do that again.
In the classroom, Simon sat still, the devastating import of that casual sentence sinking in. Should never have been born. Should never have been born.
"Outside, bastard," leered Spence right in Simon's face, arousing him from his thoughts. Simon looked up, frightened by Spence. Did this mean he was a sort of outlaw, like Robin Hood, who could be got by anybody? Robin Hood had his Merry Men, Simon had ... Simon had Daniel. Daniel! Find Daniel and tell him, and also get away from Barry Spence. Simon quickly ran out into the yard, looking for Daniel.
Daniel was with some boys from his class on the other side of the yard. Simon ran over, his desperation conquering his usual nervousness of Daniel's fourth year friends.
"Hiya, Simon," said Daniel, "what's the matter?"
"I've got something to tell you," whispered Simon, urgently.
"Not now, on the way home," said Daniel, sensing his friend's mood.
The Spence gang were playing football and were taking little notice of Simon now as they followed the battered tennis ball round the school yard, a swarm each anxious to get a kick. But Simon remained near Daniel for the rest of playtime, puzzled and upset by what Miss Day had said and impatient for Daniel's opinion on the way home.
1955/9 Two Talking
Unfortunately, Daniel was not of much help to Simon. As the two walked home that evening, they both pondered the significance of Miss Day's pronouncement.
"Does she know that's what some of the others call you?" asked Daniel.
Simon shook his head. "Dunno," he said.
"Why don't you go and ask her what it really means?" suggested Daniel.
Simon thought about this for a moment. What would she say? Then he realised the danger of such a move.
"Can't do that," he said, "coz then she will know that I'm one, and if I never should've been born, she might report me or something, and then I might get taken off to a camp or something."
Simon felt the old sadness grow inside him as he thought of this possibility, and the effect this would have on Mummy, never mind what might happen to him at a Camp. He had heard terrible stories about Concentration Camps, and he supposed that the same sort of things would apply in whatever Camp was reserved for people like him. At this prospect, tears started gently to flow down his cheek, and he wiped them with the sleeve of his coat.
Daniel too contemplated the idea of his friend being taken off, like in the films from Germany. It at once excited and frightened him. Simon was a continuing puzzle to Daniel, and he was aware of the faith that Simon placed in him. Daniel thought of Simon's slim, soft body that he now knew so well, and what might happen to it in one of those places. He felt his own body stir at the thought, and decided he would ask Simon to the den with him on the way home.
The two had continued to visit their secret den over the years since that first time, as well finding other opportunities, out on bike rides, sometimes in Daniel's room when the coast was clear. The pretence was maintained that Daniel was looking after Simon and keeping a check on him since the discovery of the Great Difference. Daniel by this time was aware that circumcision was not out of the ordinary having seen other boys at the swimming baths, and wondered if Simon really knew. Neither said anything though, and each wished to continue to have the excuse for their intimate sessions together. Daniel found his friend's willing compliance with his demands intensely exciting, and gained considerable satisfaction from the feeling of mastery it gave him. Simon too looked forward to their sessions. For him they were times of real happiness. He trusted Daniel totally and derived from their friendship the masculine love and protection he missed so much, and which Daddy did not provide. In his submission to Daniel, he too experienced excitement, and felt that in allowing Daniel intimate knowledge of his body, the bond between them was strengthened.
This evening though, as they walked home together, Simon's self-esteem as low as it could sink, his thoughts were more on the sensitive side of their friendship than the sensual.
"I'm glad I've got you," said Simon, again wiping his tears on his sleeve.
Daniel turned to look at Simon, and saw the distress he was in. His heart went out to his friend, and his thoughts of the den were put aside. Daniel knew that it was not the time. Instead he put the arm of solace across Simon's shoulders.
"You know I'll be your friend, Simon," he comforted, "we always have been, haven't we?"
Simon nodded and sniffed his agreement.
Daniel continued. "I'll not tell. Best not to say anything to Day. She'll probably not understand anyway."
"Promise you'll not tell, anyone, anyone ever?" pleaded Simon.
"'Course not," assured Daniel. "Look, neither of us has ever told anyone about our secrets, you know, the den and all that, have we?"
Simon shook his head. Daniel was not reassured by this however.
"You haven't, have you?" he demanded, worried.
"No," said Simon. He certainly had not, and moreover would not. The closeness of his friendship with Daniel was a precious secret to share between the two of them. He did not want anyone else to share it. Also he knew that if the adult world found out, there would be condemnation, Daddy would beat him unmercifully, but worse, far worse than all that, he would be stopped from ever seeing Daniel again. At that thought, tears flowed anew.
Daniel saw the renewal of crying, and was alarmed by this.
"What's the matter?" he asked anxiously. "You've not told anyone, have you? Honest?"
"No," said Simon, realising his friend's misinterpretation of his tears. "No, I couldn't ever do that. If people found out, we couldn't be friends anymore. I'd hate that."
"Me too," said Daniel, relieved. "I'd hate that too."
Each felt the love for one another that had become the value of their relationship, and each shrank from uttering the word. It wasn't done. Love was silly and soft, for girls. But each instinctively knew of the love of the other. They parted at the end of the street, with a wave and a casual "See ya!", and both went home, warmed within by the further sealing of their love for each other.
1955/9 Daniel asks the Question
Daniel entered the house, dropping his bag in the hall.
"I'm home," he shouted to the house in general, cocking his ear for an answer. After a pause, his mother answered from the direction of the kitchen.
"Hello, love, come and get your hands washed, tea's almost ready."
Daniel went through to the kitchen, and quickly rinsed his hands under the cold tap.
"Dad home yet?" he asked.
"He's upstairs, getting changed. He's got to go back later. Don't forget your piano practice, will you?"
"No, Mum. I want to learn that new piece."
"Good boy. Here, put these on the table, will you," said his mother, handing Daniel jam and butter.
Daniel put them on the table, and turned to see his Dad enter the kitchen.
"Hello, son," his Dad said, roughing Daniel's hair with his hand. "Had a good day?"
"O.K.," replied Daniel, with his stock response to queries about the boredom of school. Then he remembered.
"Miss Day talked to Simon's class about swearing today," he said. "Simon got a bit upset, but Miss Day didn't notice."
"Poor Simon," said his mother, "that boy leads an awful life. Did you wal
k home with him?"
Daniel nodded.
"He's a funny little kid, though Daniel," said his Dad, "I don't know what you see in him, really."
Daniel felt the conversation was getting onto to dangerous ground.
"He's O.K. He's a good friend," Daniel fended, then, sensing the chance to earn credit, he continued, "Anyway, he hasn't many friends, so I like to keep an eye on him." Only as he said the words did Daniel realise just how appropriate they were.
"That's very thoughtful, Daniel," said his Mum, as she put the last items on the table. "I know you and he get on well. Always have done. Come on then, sit down."
She turned to the hall, and raised her voice. "Louise, tea's ready!"
From upstairs came the muffled reply from Daniel's fifteen year old sister. It seemed to satisfy Mum.
As they started to eat, Daniel thought about the events of the day, and aware that his sister was coming decided to capitalise on his earlier discussion of school immediately.
"Mum?" he opened.
"Yes, dear," said Mum," don't talk with your mouth full."
Pushing aside this irrelevance, Daniel swallowed his piece of scrambled egg.
"What's a bastard?"
"You are!" said Louise, pulling a face at her brother as she entered the large kitchen.
"Don't start, Louise," said Dad, sharply.
"Sorry," said Louise, without grace.
"Did Simon ask you?" queried Mum of Daniel.
"Sort of," replied Daniel, "he said that Miss Day was talking about swearing in his class, and Barry Spence asked what a bastard is."
"Now he is one," interjected Louise.
"Be quiet, Louise," said Mum. "Go on, Daniel."
"Well, Simon said that Miss Day said that it was someone who should never have been born, and Simon got upset about it coz that's what they all call him."
"Because", emphasised Dad.
"Mm?" Daniel frowned, puzzled at the interruption.
"Because, not coz, Daniel," said Dad, "I keep telling you to speak properly. It is important."
"Yes, Dad," said Daniel, "but I was talking about Simon."
"So talk about him using proper language then, please."
"O.K. Dad," said Daniel, who felt this opportunity of enlightenment slipping away. "What I mean is, when Simon asked me about it I wasn't really sure what to say to him." Daniel sensed the chance to earn credit, and added, "He was really upset and I wanted to try and help him."
"Saint Daniel!" mocked Louise.
Trust her to spoil it, thought Daniel. I wish she weren't here.
"That's very good of you, love," said Mum, approvingly, "but it's a difficult problem really."
Daniel looked expectantly at Mum, and Mum looked expectantly at Dad. Dad was suddenly engrossed in the difficulties of spreading butter carefully right into the corners of the bread. Mum sighed to herself and continued.
"All it means, Daniel," she said, "is that someone's mother and father are not married when they are born. I don't think Miss Day can have meant that he shouldn't have been born. That's a terrible thing to say about a child. And as far as I know, his parents are married. I know Kate, er, Simon's mother, reasonably well. Simon probably didn't hear properly."
"He's a bit dim, that kid," said Louise.
"Louise, if you can't think of anything helpful to say, then keep quiet," snapped Mum. "Can we just get on with our meal, please."
"Sorry I spoke," pouted Louise.
Daniel grinned at her discomfort, despite his annoyance at the curtailing of the conversation. He wanted the information to maintain his ascendancy over Simon.
"Don't crow over your minor victories, Daniel," said Dad, "they may be short-lived. I seem to remember it's your turn to help wash up tonight. And you've your piano practice to do."
It was Louise's turn to grin.
Later, as Daniel was putting the dishes away with his Mum, he broached the subject again.
"Is Simon one of those?" he asked her.
She regarded her son quizzically. "You are persistent, aren't you? Almost certainly not. His parents are married I'm sure. But they say his Dad was married before the war and they got divorced. Some people think that divorce is wrong and a later marriage doesn't count."
"So what about any children then?"
"Oh, I see what you mean. Look, Simon's parents got married before he was born so he is not illegitimate, neither is his sister – what's her name?"
"Frances," supplied Daniel, eager to maintain the momentum.
"Oh, yes," continued Mum, "but there are some silly people who can't accept that because his father was married before. At least, that's what people say. Maybe someone said something like that and that's how all this silly name calling started."
Daniel digested this for a moment. "Is he really his Dad?"
"Oh yes, I'm sure," said Mum, "they were married during the war. I shouldn't be saying this to you, Daniel. Don't you go repeating what I've said."
"No, Mum," said Daniel automatically, while he thought how to ask the next, vital question.
"Pass me the big plates," said Mum.
"Does it show?" asked Daniel, holding up the dinner plates.
"Show?" said Mum, puzzled. "What do you mean? Where's the salt and pepper?"
Daniel looked for the salt and pepper, and passed them over to Mum who put them in the kitchen cabinet.
"On you," said Daniel, searching for words, "I mean, can you tell from looking?"
Mum laughed. "Of course not. Simon doesn't look any different from any other boy, does he? He's just an ordinary little boy, like any other. Nobody can be blamed for who their parents are, Daniel. I think his father had a hard time in the war. People should try to be a bit more understanding. He got a medal, you know. His Mum seems very nice. Fetch me the teapot, please."
Breathing quickly with the tension of the situation, Daniel handed over the teapot. This was getting close, but maybe too close. What could he say?
"Oh Daniel," said Mum, "you forgot the teapot lid."
"Even undressed?" asked Daniel, as casually as he could.
Mum stopped rinsing the teapot out, and turned to Daniel. "What do you mean? How can it?"
Daniel suddenly had a brainwave. "You know before when we went to the baths coz Simon wanted me to teach him how to swim?"
"Because!" corrected Mum. "Yes, I remember. Not very successfully, as I recall."
"Well, when we were in the changing cubicle, I couldn't help noticing that the end" - Daniel sought the correct word for cock - "of his penis was different, and he thought, I mean I thought..."
Mum was laughing. "O dear, Daniel," she laughed. "You mean he's circumcised." She laughed again. "Lots of boys are. Sometimes their religion demands it, like the Jews, other times the foreskin is too tight and has to be removed. It's nothing to do with being illegitimate; that's the proper word for a bastard. You are funny."
Daniel did not think this was especially funny, as a new aspect struck him. "But they sent the Jews away to camps and gassed them, didn't they?"
Mum was still amused at Daniel's naivety, failed to catch the solemnity of her son's question.
"Yes dear, but that was because Hitler hated the Jews because they were Jews, not because they were circumcised. Now run along, there's a good boy. I want to hear that piece, note perfect."
Pleased with his new information, Daniel went into the back room, specially extended, where the large Bösendorfer grand piano stood, and started his practice. After a few scales, he started on his new piece, and soon was lost in the magical pattern of the notes, revelling in the way his hands running across the keyboard could stir this big machine into making wonderful music. In the kitchen, Mrs Gray, herself a skilled pianist, nodded approvingly.
1955/10 Onward Christian Soldiers
The confrontation came at morning playtime, but it started earlier. In Assembly, Miss Harvey stopped the singing of "Onward Christian Soldiers" to complain about the singing.
&nbs
p; Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.
Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe;
Forward into battle see His banners go!
Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.
Just as the children were singing the chorus for the second time, Miss Harvey banged on the lectern that stood at the front of the hall during assemblies. Miss Smith, the young teacher who played the piano visibly startled, played one disharmonious chord and stopped, turning to Miss Harvey with a fearful expression on her face.
"Thank you, Miss Smith," said Miss Harvey, somehow managing to convey menace in that simple statement, also the fact that she did not feel thankful at all; it was a mere formality.
Miss Harvey turned her attention to the assembled school. The singing had tailed off and the children now stood in their lines, regarding the headmistress with some apprehension. The teachers, stood at each side of the hall, glared at the children.
"Marching!" declaimed Miss Harvey. "Marching!"
Simon saw one or two of the teachers exchange glances, but when he looked again, their faces were completely expressionless.
"Not Mar Chin!" continued Miss Harvey, "It has I-N-G on the end. MarchING! I don't want to hear anyone singing Mar Chin! Miss Smith!"
Miss Smith jumped again, and looked questioningly at Miss Harvey.
"Carry on, Miss Smith, please," commanded Miss Harvey.
"We'll start verse two again," said Miss Smith to the school, watching Miss Harvey out of the corner of her eye. Miss Harvey appeared content with that, so Miss Smith struck the note to give the children the key, paused and then the repeat of verse two got underway.
"Like a mighty army moves the church of God..." sang the children. As the verse ended, and the chorus began, Miss Harvey craned forward slightly, listening intently to the words.
"Onward Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war,"
Simon distinctly heard Barry Spence, standing just behind him say "MAR CHIN" with just enough clarity for it to be heard, yet not enough for the culprit to be obvious to those not as close as Simon.
The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel Page 7