The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel

by Patrick C Notchtree

  "I'll teach you to use a slide rule when you're older," said Daddy.

  "Thanks Daddy, "said Simon, wise enough not to add that it would not help him now when he needed it.

  "Can I go round to Daniel's after dinner, Mummy," he requested.

  "I expect so, darling," said Mummy, but with a glance at Daddy, who just shrugged.

  Simon ate the rest of his dinner and as soon as he could, took the hated paper, put on his coat and went round the corner to Daniel's. Would he be back from swimming? Maybe he was going out with some Henrys. He knocked on the back door, which opened.

  "Oh, come in, Simon, it's freezing out there."

  Simon stepped into the warm kitchen. The Aga kept it warm. Mummy wanted an Aga, but Daddy said money doesn't grow on trees. Anyway, there was nowhere to put it.

  "Is Daniel home please, Mrs Gray?" asked Simon.

  "Yes, he's about somewhere," she answered. "Daniel!"

  Daniel came in from the sitting room. He was wearing his denim jeans. Simon felt a bit silly in his short trousers.

  "Hiya Simon. Let's go up."

  Simon followed Daniel upstairs, hanging his coat in the hall on the way.

  "How was swimming this morning?" asked Simon.

  "Cold," said Daniel with feeling. "but it went OK. Coach said I was really good."

  Simon thought that was obvious. "What about Layton?"

  "He's OK. I like him, but I like beating him better."

  "Did you?" asked Simon as they went into Daniel's bedroom.

  "Yeah, in front crawl of course, and breaststroke, just. But he well beat me in backstroke and butterfly. What's that? Another eleven plus paper?"

  Simon nodded. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked anxiously. He saw Daniel's green Henrys blazer and his long school trousers on a hanger on the edge of his wardrobe door. Simon wondered if he would ever have a Henrys uniform. It occurred to Simon he didn't even have his own wardrobe. Daniel had lots of clothes.

  "No, of course not. 'Help other people at all times', remember? And 'Be Prepared'. You might not be a scout yet, but you're going to be as prepared for the eleven plus as you can be."

  "Thanks, Daniel. You're tops."

  "I want you at Henrys. I know you're clever enough, and I won't have you going to Vicks. I just won't," said Daniel vehemently.

  Simon didn't know what to say to that. The two years in age between them sometimes seemed so much to Simon, although he was only one school year behind Daniel because of how their birthdays fell.

  "Pull up the stool and let's have a look," said Daniel.

  The two boys sat at the desk. Daniel looked at the test paper thoughtfully. Simon admired Daniel in many ways, not least because he was so clever. So now he looked at him and waited.

  "Long division of money?" asked Daniel.

  "Yes, I just can't do it."

  "Won't have defeatist talk here," said Daniel crossly. Simon could be a bit nervous of Daniel when he was in this mood. "Come on, let's look at this one. Fifty eight pounds, six shillings and threepence divided by fifteen. Write it out." Daniel pushed pad and pencil to Simon, who copied the sum down.

  "What do we do first?" Daniel demanded.

  "Divide the pounds?"

  "Good, what's fifty eight divided by fifteen?"

  Simon stalled.

  "How many fifteens are there in fifty eight?" tried Daniel.

  "Dunno," said Simon glumly.

  "What's two fifteens?"

  "Thirty?"

  "Good, now what's three fifteens?"

  "Er, forty five?"

  "OK, what's four fifteens?"

  "Sixty. Oh, that's too much. So it goes three times, remainder … um …thirteen."

  "Yes. You see, you can do it. Put down the three."

  Simon wrote 3 under the pounds, and started to write the 13 under the shillings.

  "Wait," said Daniel. "That thirteen remainder. Thirteen what?"

  Simon looked puzzled.

  "Well, what did we just divide?"

  "Oh, pounds. Thirteen pounds," said Simon.

  "Good. But you can't put thirteen pounds just like that in the shillings. It's not thirteen shillings, is it?"

  "No," said Simon, understanding starting to form. "You've got to change the thirteen pounds into shillings first."

  "You mean you have," said Daniel. "How do you do that?"

  "Twenty shillings in a pound, so times by twenty?"

  "That's right. So what's thirteen times twenty?"

  Simon scribbled at the side of the sheet. "Two hundred and sixty?"

  "Good. What next?"

  "Carry it to the shillings column and add it to the six shillings there. Two hundred and sixty six."

  "OK, so now we have two hundred and sixty six shillings to divide by fifteen. Ordinary long division I think, a bit high to keep adding fifteens like we did for the pounds."

  Daniel watched as Simon did the division of 266 by 15 at the side.

  "Seventeen remainder eleven," announced Simon.

  "That's what I get too," said Daniel, pleased. "So far we've got the answer three pounds and seventeen shillings, now to divide the pennies. What's your remainder from the shillings?"

  "Eleven. But that's eleven shillings, it's got to be changed into pennies," said Simon, as the darkness lifted to reveal understanding at last of how this worked.

  "You're getting it," said Daniel, smiling. "So, twelve pennies make a shilling; what's eleven shillings in pennies. Twelve times table."

  Simon thought for a moment. He had been working hard on learning his tables. "One hundred and thirty two."

  "Right. So carry that to the pennies column."

  "Add that to the thrupence, is one hundred and thirty five." said Simon.

  "OK, so now divide that by fifteen."

  Once again, Simon did the long division sum at the side. "Nine, and no remainder."

  "Good. So put the nine in the pennies column, and that's it."

  "That's it?" repeated Simon. "You mean I've done it?"

  "You have, Simon. What is fifty eight pounds, six shillings and thrupence divided by fifteen?" grinned Daniel.

  Simon looked at the sum. "Three pounds, seventeen shillings and ninepence. Yes! It's the changing the remainders I didn't understand, but I do now. Thanks to you."

  "You did it," Daniel reminded him. "I didn't do a single calculation for you in all that."

  "You're the best friend anybody could have," said Simon.

  "So are you," said Daniel. "And I mean that."

  Under Daniel's watchful eye, Simon worked through more examples until Daniel was sure Simon really had grasped it. Some involved ha'pennies and farthings, but now Simon had the concept in his head, he coped with those too. Daniel watched with pleasure at Simon's happiness as he gained confidence.

  Daniel spent many such sessions with Simon that autumn and winter. He knew his emotional and vulnerable friend would go under if he had to go to Vicks, and he was determined that would not happen.

  1957/1 Sledging Accident

  Simon lay on his bed, wrapped in his pyjamas and dressing gown. It had been a good day and he had even been able to forget the approaching eleven plus for a few hours. All the local kids had been on the hill with their sledges, careering down, getting faster and faster as the snow became more compacted from their passage, as well as the very occasional car that moved cautiously along. As soon as it was gone, the hordes returned, vying for the best run. Simon's sledge was sought after as it was long enough for two, three with a squeeze, and some of the kids, boys and girls, who hadn't got their own sledges would ask for, and get a ride down with Simon. But best of all of course was when he and Daniel would go flying down together at top speed, often falling off in a heap together at the bottom of the hill, and then trudging back up again hauling the sledge, dodging the others as they came flying down.

  Only encroaching cold darkness in the late afternoon had called a halt and slowly the children had drifted away homewards for tea. Simo
n and Daniel had parted at the corner with a quick "See ya!", each off to their own home. Simon lay, happily savouring the fun of the day just gone, reliving it in his mind. He should really be in bed, asleep, but excitement had kept him up.

  He was aware of the sound of the car engine running and side gates opening. Then Daddy opening the garage doors. Suddenly there was a stream of swearing and Simon knew with abrupt certainty what the cause was. He had forgotten to put the sledge away and it was left outside the back door, in the way of the car. Quietly, Simon got up and looked out of his bedroom window, peering down to see the open garage doors, and Daddy, lifting up the sledge high over his head (and it was a heavy sledge) and hurling it across the small patio area, it crashing into the side of the coalhouse, smashing into pieces as it did so. Simon watched shocked and helpless, tears coming to his eyes as the device of so much joy that day was quickly and ruthlessly destroyed. He watched unseen as Daddy stood a moment looking at what was now a broken mess of wood and metal runners, and then turned away. The headlights came on illuminating the garage and the car passed slowly into view as it came down the side of the house and then out of view as it went into the garage. Simon looked down at his ruined sledge. He could see that repair would be difficult, if not impossible. He got into bed and cried, half fearing his father's wrath and more for failing to put the sledge away. But Daddy never came and he fell asleep, his happy memories now expunged by the loss of his sledge.

  The next morning, Simon was wary indeed. He looked out of his bedroom window. It had not snowed again, but yesterday's was still lying. No good now. The wreckage of the sledge had been moved from by the coalhouse to near the garage, footprints across the patio. He could see now by the white, winter morning light that the damage was considerable. He could hear the Home Service from the radio downstairs.

  Mummy's voice called up. "Frances! Simon! 'Lift up your hearts'!"

  Simon heard Frances reply and shouted and OK from him too. This was a reminder of the time, as 'Lift up your hearts' was on the wireless at ten to eight each morning. He finished dressing and went downstairs to the dining room, warmed by the electric fire.

  "You left your sledge out last night, Simon," said Daddy, stating a fact. Simon felt it best to say nothing, wondering which way this would go. He sat down and picked up a piece of toast.

  Daddy continued, in mollifying tones, "I'm sorry, son, but when I put the car away, I didn't see it and the car hit it. It's broken I'm afraid." Daddy looked at Simon, smiling, wholly unaware that this deception, this attempted softening of the blow, had already been scooped by Simon's own witness. Simon felt empty inside, astonished at this version of what he had seen. He wanted to shout out that he had seen what had happened, he knew that it wasn't true! But at ten years and four months he dare not, in case his challenge of the new orthodoxy would lead to a further release of temper and retribution. Feeling cold inside like the snow outside, Simon simply nodded and bit his toast. As Daddy got up to leave for work, he patted Simon on the head as he went past.

  "I'm getting the bus into the studio today," he said. "I'm trying to get some extra petrol coupons though. Bloody Nasser."

  "Maybe it won't last long," said Mummy. "We're out of Egypt and perhaps Macmillan will sort something out."

  "I doubt it, Kate. Bye love," he was saying to Mummy in the hall. "I may be late tonight," he added.

  "So what's new?" muttered Frances more to herself than Simon, as the front door closed.

  "I saw it," said Simon, now tearful.

  "What?" said Frances, puzzled by her little brother's upset. "It'll be OK, it's only a sledge."

  "It's not that," said Simon, "Daddy smashed it on purpose."

  "What for?" asked Frances. "You mean he drove into it on purpose."

  "He didn't drive into it," explained Simon. "I saw from my bedroom. It was in the way so he picked it up and threw it against the coalhouse. That's when it smashed."

  "I thought I heard something," said Mummy, who had come in from the kitchen and caught the tail end of this. Simon turned, he had been oblivious to Mummy's return. "I thought it was from next door," Mummy continued. "I'm sure Daddy didn't mean it," she added hopefully.

  "Mummy!" shouted Frances indignant, who then got up and stormed out.

  Mummy looked at Simon, knowing that her attempt to gloss over the issue had been fruitless.

  "Never mind, darling," she said. "We'll see what we can do."

  Simon dawdled round the corner to Daniel's, disconsolate, wondering what to say to his friend. And there he was, smiling, wrapped in his dark blue duffel coat, the dear face peering out from the hood.

  "I was just coming for you," he said. Then, seeing Simon's downcast mood, "What's the matter?"

  Simon recounted the whole episode. Daniel listened saying nothing, allowing Simon to relate the whole thing.

  "Sorry, Simon," he said, with the comforting arm round his shoulders. He knew what Simon's Daddy was like. Then an idea!

  "Come on, Simon!" Daniel led the way to his house and round into the garden. There was a large, slightly dilapidated shed into which Daniel disappeared.

  "Help me shift this lot," he said, indicating piles of miscellaneous stuff that meant little to Simon. But when they had moved stuff, there was revealed – a sledge! Simon looked at Daniel, eyes hopeful.

  Daniel laughed at Simon's expression. "It's my sister's old one," he said dragging it out. It looked old, too. the runners were rusty and a lot of paint was missing. But it was a sledge. The two boys dragged it out where it stuck in the snow. They dragged the unwilling sledge to the back door, leaving long brown, rusty marks in the snow.

  "Mummy," called Daniel, only to be stopped by a poke from Simon.

  "Don't tell, please," implored Simon quietly.

  "Course not, silly." Then again, "Mummy!"

  "Yes, Daniel?" said Mrs Gray, coming into the kitchen. "Oh, hello Simon. Shut the door, you're letting the heat out."

  The two boys stepped in and closed the door. Daniel's kitchen was much bigger than Simon's, and there was a table where they had breakfast. There was the Aga too that kept the house warm.

  "Mummy, Simon's sledge got broken. Can he have Louise's old one?"

  "Heavens, have we still got that?"

  "It was in the shed," supplied Daniel.

  "I expect so," said Mrs Gray. "I doubt if Louise will want it again. Certainly he can use it in the meantime."

  "Thank you, Mrs Gray," said Simon happily.

  The two boys took the rusty sledge to the hill where some others had already gathered. After a few slow runs, held back by the rust, the sledge started to pick up speed, and now side by side, Daniel and Simon would race the others down the hill. By the end of the morning, the runners were shiny and polished, and the sledge as fast as any other. Simon was content. He looked at Daniel.

  "Thanks for getting me the sledge," he said to his rescuer.

  "S'OK," said Daniel. "Race yer!" And off down the hill again.

  1957/1 Eleven Plus

  Miss Day and Miss Brown could not help him now. Not even Daniel could help him now. It was January and the last eleven plus day. Arithmetic day. Simon and Daniel sat together on the bus that morning as usual. Simon was actually shaking with fear, which Daniel noticed, and surreptitiously held his hand to calm him. Simon felt his friend's strength, and yet the green Henrys blazer under Daniel's gabardine mac only served to taunt him. The Vicks kids on the bus were as rowdy as ever.

  "You'll be fine. You said the English and Reasoning went OK," said Daniel.

  "Yes, but I'm going to fail the arithmetic, and you have to pass them all," said Simon, close to tears.

  "You will pass, I know it. Look at all the work you've done."

  "We've done," said Simon, gloomily.

  "I've only helped as much as I could. You've got to pass, for me," said Daniel. "And anyway, you're young in your year. They add marks on if you're young, so that will help."

  "What about you then? You didn't g
et any marks added on, then."

  "No, but I'm brainy. And so are you. You will be at Henrys. I know it."

  "Here's my stop," said Simon, "See you tonight." Daniel moved to let Simon away from the window seat, and Simon, his legs feeling so heavy, got up into the aisle.

  "Simon," called Daniel after him, as he moved to the top of stairs. Simon looked back and Daniel tapped his chest twice. Simon nodded and went down the stairs. Daniel slid back to the window and wiping the condensation off the window, looked down to try to see Simon. There were crowds of junior kids about and he couldn't pick him out soon enough before the bus moved off into the city centre. Daniel sat and thought about Simon's stress these past few months. Seeing his young friend's torment had been an eye opener for Daniel. He had not found the eleven plus that hard, and had been confident of a pass, and not just a place at the grammar tech, but a high pass, getting a coveted place at King Henrys. Seeing what it cost Simon, and presumably so many other kids, was changing Daniel's mind about the whole process. There had to be a better way, it was so unfair on kids like Simon. All he could do now was cross his fingers and hope. Even a tech grammar place would be better than Victoria Road.

  Simon waited to cross the road, watching the bus bearing Daniel into the city and to Hooray Henrys.

  "Hello Simon," said a bright voice at his side.

  "Hiya Peter," said Simon. "Let's go in together."

  So Simon and Peter Holman walked up to the juniors.

  "You scared?" asked Simon, tentatively.

  "A bit," said Peter, "but I'm not expecting much. My Dad says that if I get to the grammar tech I'll have done well. What did your Dad and Mum say?"

  "Just said do your best. But I know they'll be disappointed when I go to Vicks."

  "We might get to the tech together. That would be good," said Peter, optimistically.

  Simon wondered why Peter was always so cheerful. But that's the way he was. He liked Peter and this year was his best friend at the juniors now Daniel had left, but he was irritating at times. Mainly because he wasn't Daniel. Today Simon was glad of the friendship and company. But he was worried. He knew Mummy was annoyed that Mr West wasn't taking the fourth years. He had a good record with the eleven plus passes, had got Frances and Daniel through, and this was Miss Day's first time with the fourth years. Not good for confidence.