The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel

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The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel Page 15

by Patrick C Notchtree


  "Maybe," said Simon.

  There was no assembly at all this week because all the desks were set out in the hall for the fourth years to take the eleven plus exams. The children all filed in and sat at their allocated desks. This was the day Simon had been dreading. A fatalism overcame him and he seemed to accept his future. Victoria Road. It seemed that this was somehow his fate and he must endure it. In a strange way that seemed to calm him. At the command from Mr West, he opened the exam booklet, like so many he had worked through with Miss Brown and Daniel. They were hard, and Simon struggled to remember everything he had learned. He plodded on. He noticed Sidney Forth working rapidly and confidently, evidently finishing in good time, going back to check his work. Forget Forth, concentrate! Simon was still on the last page when the command came to stop. He hadn't even finished! A feeling of desperation overcame him. He wanted to cry but could not.

  They went out to play, just the fourth years as the rest of the school had already had playtime. Simon, unconsciously perhaps, leaned on the schoolyard wall at the point where he had knocked Spence over in September. Peter came with him.

  "How'd you get on?" asked Peter.

  "Didn't even finish," said Simon, miserably, watching Spence playing football as if this day were like any other. "Did you?"

  "Yes of course," said Peter, unthinkingly, and then, trying to soften the blow, added, "But only with a few minutes to spare."

  That did not help Simon.

  That night, shunning the company of the bus he walked home in the darkness and through a thick smoke laden fog. At times he had to use his torch to be sure he was in the right place in the well known route. The weather matched his mood. He was lost within as well as at risk of it from without.

  Later he poured his heart out to Daniel, and sobbed on his shoulder, while Daniel, unable to help further, just kept his arm round him to give what comfort he could. Nobody should have to go through this, thought Daniel.

  The next few weeks dragged slowly. Simon could not find any zest for life at all. He went through the motions, spending what time he could with Daniel, often just lying on his big bed watching while Daniel did his Henrys homework at his desk or listening while Daniel played the piano. If Daniel had the lid up, he watched the intricate patterns the elaborate mechanism made as the hammers rippled along the strings obedient to Daniel's fingers, reflecting in movement the patterns of the sound. Just being with Daniel was comforting, and Daniel didn't mind Simon being there while he did his homework.

  Six weeks later Mr West came into the classroom just before home time.

  "Excuse me, Miss Day. I have these for the children to take home."

  A dead silence fell in the room. Every child knew exactly what those letters were. While Miss Day gave out the sealed envelopes, Mr West continued, "These letters are addressed to your parents. You are not to open them yourselves. If I find that any letter has been opened before it's given to your parents, or those looking after you, I am very serious when I say that this might be one occasion when I find Miss Harvey's cane and use it, girls or boys."

  The look on his face told everybody that this was no joke. Miss Day dropped Simon's envelope onto his desk, and Peter's next to him. The two boys looked at each other, fearfully. Simon noticed, without understanding, that his envelope and Peter's were white, many others, including Susan James's and Barry Spence's, were brown. Sidney Forth's and Cynthia Jackson's were white too. But Simon was not concerned about that. As home time came, and he and Peter walked to the main road to get their separate buses, Peter was chattering away as usual, while Simon replied in grunts, his mind focused on what would happen when he got home. He hoped that Daddy would not be at home, because he knew that while he might not get hit for failing, there would be that look that he had failed in Daddy's eyes.

  He went in the back door without his usual "I'm home!" and went into the sitting room. Mummy was there on the settee, Daddy was not at home. Without a word, he gave the envelope to Mummy and went to take his coat off. He lingered in the hall, scared to go back in, listening for any reaction. None came and unable to stand the suspense any longer, he went and stood in the doorway. Mummy was holding the open letter in her hands, she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. Simon's heart sank.

  "Come here, Simon," she said, holding out her arms, "Come here, my darling." Simon went and sat next to her, she hugged him. "I am so proud of you, my son. You've passed."

  Simon felt dizzy. Passed? Him? Waves of feeling raced through him. He was lightheaded. Passed?

  "Me?" was all he could manage.

  "Look," said Mummy, "not only passed, but enough for a place at King Henrys!" She showed the letter to Simon. It was his letter all right. It was printed, but there were gaps where someone had typed in parts that applied to him. Simon Scott, it said, his birthday and then about a very high score in English and Reasoning, a pass in mathematics, the mean score (Simon didn't understand how it could be a mean score if he had passed) entitling him to a place at either City Technical Grammar School or King Henry VII Grammar School for Boys. There was something about it being a direct grant grammar school with places allocated to boys from county junior schools. Simon didn't understand that. He lived in the city for a start.

  "Does that mean I can go to Henrys, not Vicks?" asked Simon, not yet ready to believe.

  "Unless you would rather go to the grammar tech?" said Mummy, but in a tone which made it obvious she was joking.

  Then Simon was up, dancing round the room. He felt he could fly, the feeling of relief, of liberation was indescribable. He started to cry from sheer relief, a huge burden of fear lifted from his ten year old body. Mother and son hugged and cheered. A thought came to Simon as he started to calm down.

  "Mummy, can I go round to Daniel's?"

  "What about tea?"

  "Please. He helped me."

  "All right. Come back for tea."

  Simon looked at the clock before running out, forgetting his coat in the late February cold. Daniel would probably not be home yet as he got a later bus at home time.

  "Hello, Mrs Gray, is Daniel home yet," said Simon after knocking on the back door.

  "Not yet, Simon, but he shouldn't be long." And then noticing Simon's agitation, "Is something the matter?"

  "No, thank you," shouted Simon cheerfully as he ran back round the house and to the corner. Just in his short school trousers, shirt and pullover, but unfeeling of the cold, he could not bear to wait at the corner but ran down the hill toward the main road. There was the unmistakeable figure of Daniel, green cap with gold piping, gabardine mac, walking up the hill. Simon was shouting, and Daniel looked up, saw his friend running towards him. He too started to run, and as they got closer, Simon was yelling, "I've passed, I've passed!"

  Relief surged through Daniel, no Vicks then. Simon would at least be safe. Then they were together, Simon was gripping Daniel, twirling him round, oblivious of any passers by or other kids about on their way home.

  "I've passed, Daniel, I've passed."

  "I gather that," said Daniel, disentangling himself. "I'm glad, really glad." Daniel paused. "Grammar Tech, then?"

  "No! Henrys! I'm going to Hooray Henrys with you!"

  "Henrys?" repeated Daniel, "Henrys! Simon, what did I tell you? Didn't I always say you would be going to Henrys?"

  "Yes, and now I am," said Simon gleefully, his happiness knew no bounds. He wanted to hug Daniel there and then. But the two ran up the hill to Daniel's house and into the warm kitchen. Only then did Simon realise how cold he had been outside.

  "Calm down you two," said Mrs Gray, "what's going on?"

  "Mum, Simon's passed and is going to Henrys!" shouted Daniel excitedly.

  "That's wonderful Simon. Well done," said Mrs Gray.

  Simon beamed. "Thank you Mrs Gray," he said. And then a realisation came to him. "I couldn’t have done it without Daniel."

  "Well, that's very kind of you to say so, Simon," said Mrs Gray, thinking back to t
he long autumn evenings that Daniel had spent working with Simon, often she had wondered, at the expense of his own homework. Not to mention a Christmas dominated by Simon's arithmetic.

  "Come on," said Daniel, leading the way to his room, hanging his coat in the hall. In his bedroom, he hung up his green blazer, with the embroidered coat of arms, a blazer that now Simon would be wearing, took off his Henrys tie, and turned to Simon, white shirt now open at the neck, long school trousers, a vision of salvation.

  "Come here," he said, holding out his arms. The two hugged tightly until emotion overcame them both, blinking back the tears. Joy, relief, release of tension, shared happiness. They sat down on the bed.

  "I meant what I said, Daniel. I know that without you I would be going to Vicks."

  "Well, you did it," said Daniel.

  Simon looked directly into Daniel's blue eyes. "Only with your help. I will never, ever forget this, Daniel. I just don't know what to say."

  "Just thank you would do," said Daniel, smiling at Simon's seriousness.

  "Thank you, Daniel, from the bottom of my heart," said Simon solemnly. Daniel laughed and hugged him again, and then the comprehension of what had happened hit them once more, the two were dancing round the room, whooping and yelling with jubilation.

  The significance of the white and brown envelopes became apparent over the next few days. Passes had white envelopes, and failures had brown. Mummy was disgusted when that was pointed out to her, saying it was wrong to show children up in that way. She wrote a piece about it in her newspaper column. Some people said it was only because her son had failed, until they were told, that shut them up. Mummy and Daddy asked what present he would like for passing; Simon said a radio like Daniel's. In fact he got an even better one, the latest Roberts portable. On hearing that Simon was going to Henrys, Barry Spence, bound for Victoria Road, simply ignored him from that time on, which suited Simon. Barry Spence was now irrelevant. To his undying amazement, for once lost for words, Peter Holman had also qualified for a place at Hooray Henrys. Sidney Forth too had passed, but was going to the grammar tech. "It's a more modern education," he said sourly. But Simon didn't care. In the cold winter, the sun was shining for Simon.

  1957/6 Bike rides

  Winter turned to Spring and for Simon and Daniel it was a renaissance. Only when the burden of the eleven plus was lifted did they realise what a weight it had been, Daniel almost as much as Simon. Both boys became more carefree and more relaxed. When Daniel was out with some of his friends, Simon was more accepted now, perhaps as a Hooray Henry in waiting. But the pair also spent much time together, riding their bikes out into the countryside, a favourite place being the airfield where the flying club was based. Both boys were interested in aeroplanes, and liked to watch the small aircraft, mainly Austers, the occasional biplane and rarely some more exotic types, landing and taking off.

  "I might be a pilot when I grow up," said Daniel. "Either that or a policeman like Dad."

  "Me too," said Simon, "or I might be a journalist like Mummy."

  "Need good exam results," said Daniel.

  "To be a journalist?"

  "Maybe. But I meant to be a pilot. I'll get them at Hooray Henrys."

  The conversation turned to life at Hooray Henrys, Simon attentively listening to Daniel's descriptions of grammar school life, soaking in every detail so as to be better prepared for September. Daniel had kept Simon up to date on an almost daily basis, and Simon felt as if he knew almost as much about Henrys as he did. The initiation ritual worried Simon a bit, but that was for the future.

  Near the airfield on a low hilltop was a copse of trees, fringed by long grass, which they had taken to visiting while out on their rides as it offered the seclusion they wanted together. Apart from a drink and something to eat, Daniel's groundsheet was always in his pack as well now. They pushed their bikes across the field, following the hedgerow up the hill. On the edge of the copse, they had a view of the airfield in the distance, the runway at right angles to them so that the aircraft didn't fly over the hill when landing or taking off.

  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.

  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.

 

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