CHAPTER 41
Easter 1945
There had been a flurry of telephone conversations between Ma, Pa and his brother Edward earlier in Easter week. On Wednesday evening it was arranged that the boys would be coming up from Suffolk to Kerslake to stay over Easter, probably until they started back to school for the Summer Term.
The root cause of all this was the impending birth of their new little brother or sister and Aunt Della was having to rest more and more. Apparently, the house was in a turmoil with a nurse now in residence as well as Nanny Saunders, with Mrs Catchpole doing the cooking, so the boys were somewhat in the way. So, it was thought that for the best, etc., etc......
On Maundy Thursday I was deputed to go to the railway station to meet them. I was given enough money to pay for a taxi as they were bringing luggage with them of unknown quantity. Neither Tom nor Matt would be there to help as they had gone off to Fensham School the day before for the match that day.
It had been decided by me that both boys should sleep in my room. A much better folding bed was borrowed from Mrs Tring than the contraption we had and that was put with plenty of room to spare alongside my bed. I said I would sleep on that bed and the brothers could share my bed.
Both Ma and Pa had got on well with Flea when he'd stayed at New Year and I hoped that having the pair of them wouldn't put too much of a strain on the family. But Lachs was such a good sort, quiet and dependable, just like me - the non-rebellious son! But, anyway, Pa had two older brothers and Ma had two sisters so they would know what living in larger families was like.
Naturally, inside I was getting rather excited. I had enjoyed Flea's company very much at New Year and Lachs and I had been boon companions in the summer and at the wedding. He was now seventeen so would be very grown up.
Another job I had to do on Thursday was to help the lad who was doing Tom's paper-round that day. This turned out to be Paul Marsh, now in 4K.
Even though I'd run my guts out to win the Fifth Year Lane Cup I wasn't going to stop my running. I think Pa was pleased when he heard I'd won the Cup because I got an extra five bob pocket money so the incentive was there to do some practice for the annual school Sports Day next term. I did start a little later on Maundy Thursday as I guessed he would be quite a while doing his own round first. I was right. I scooted round the corner just as he was arriving at the beginning of Tom's round on his bike. He was mightily pleased to see me and I took quite a few papers from him to do one side of the first street while he did the other. We chatted quite a bit as we wandered between houses and I found him to be a very nice kid. When we did the final delivery, at Tom's house, I invited him in for a cup of tea and toast as that was what I was having for breakfast.
He was intrigued about me going to meet my new cousins. He was even more intrigued when, just before nine o'clock, a military car drew up. It was Corporal Jones, Uncle Edward's driver. He said he had to deliver a load of documents for some military trials coming up and Uncle Edward had arranged for him to do a detour - of some miles - to deliver some extra rations. Paul made his exit when Emrys arrived so I made another pot of tea as he said he wasn't in too much of a hurry as he'd started out pretty early from Colchester.
He said he'd seen the boys at Pin Mill House the previous weekend and they were just the same. He grinned and said that Flea was teasing Lachs about being an Under Officer now and insisted on calling him `Sir' all the time. He said Aunt Della was OK but needed rest and quiet. He laughed and said he hoped my mother and father could cope.
After he'd gone I had a snoop in the box. There were tins of corned beef, stew, fruit and baked beans, with a pack of bacon and other bits and pieces. At the side I found some extra meat and cheese coupons and a note saying these were in lieu of the boys' Ration Books. I just wondered what it would be like not to have things on ration. I didn't really remember what it had been like before the War when you could buy anything. That is, if you had the money. Pa had said at least with rationing everyone had a basic diet. I know Ma grumbled at times especially when she ran out of things which seemed unobtainable now but somehow we always managed to have enough food. I'd read in the paper how the Dutch people had really starved because of shortages of food under the German occupation and I know Ma was worried about her relatives in France.
At last it was time to go to the station to meet the afternoon train. I even had a penny for the platform ticket but the man on the station said I needn't get one as he was on ticket duty that day. He said I had an honest face and he thought I could defraud the railway company for once! I chatted to him while I waited for the train and he said he'd really retired but was back at the station because of shortage of staff. He said both his sons were in Europe somewhere fighting the Nazis. I said both my cousins who were arriving were going into the Forces when they left school. I also said I would need a taxi to transport them and their luggage. He grinned and said he would arrange that. Just then the signal dropped to show the train was approaching and I went down the platform to meet the boys.
I knew exactly which carriage they were in because as the train stopped a door flew open and a small figure jumped out dragging a suitcase behind it and carrying two tennis rackets. Of course, it was Flea.
“Come on, get a move on,” he instructed an unseen body still on the train, “And don't fall over my haversack. Potty says your feet are too big. He said you'd make a good copper if you were six feet tall. I bet they had to kill two cows to make your nice new pair of parade boots!”
He turned and saw me gawking at him. He turned to the carriage door again.
“Come on, hurry up, Jacko's standing here waiting!”
A head peered round the door with a resigned look on its face.
“Hello Jacko,” Lachs said, breaking into a grin, “Just bat the child one for me.”
“Hunh!” said Flea, “And there was you all worried in case there was no one to meet us and you got lost.”
I ignored Flea and went up to the carriage door and grasped the end of the suitcase standing there and heaved it out and deposited it on the platform. Lachs followed encumbered with two haversacks and a third suitcase.
“Hello, my elder new cousin,” I said, putting out a hand, Bran-like. “The lad can carry the bags now. I have ordered a taxi and he can run behind.”
Flea was now hopping up and down in frustration. He came up behind me.
“I'm not the lad,” he said, “I'm that other cousin you've inherited, you great dark monster!”
I turned and smiled sweetly.
“Hello, young Flea,” I said sweetly, “I thought it was our other cousin Gareth who was the monster.”
We did then all collapse in giggles. The sight of Gareth adjusting his hardon sprang to our collective minds. `Gareth's got a stiffy!' Lachs looked a bit more relaxed now. He'd had a tense look on his face when he first peered round the door to the accompaniment of Flea's jibes.
“I'm glad to see you, Jacko,” he said with a relieved tone in his voice. “That creature has made my life hell the last few miles. Once I get him indoors there will be a serious bit of brotherly chastisement to be done.”
Flea sneered. “Potty says if you lay a finger on me, Sir, he'll shove his stick somewhere where the sun doesn't shine, Sir!” He looked at me and grinned. “Except Bastable thinks it does!”
I looked at Lachs who smiled and shook his head. I advanced on the two suitcases side by side on the platform and attempted to lift both. God, I was glad I was doing weight lifting as the pair of them were pretty heavy. What had they brought with them? The kitchen sink?
“Don't drop that one!” said Flea, making no attempt to assist, “It's got most of the croquet set in it. Sorry, I know it's heavy, it's got the balls in there and they weigh half a ton!”
Oh God! I thought of one of Rhys' ribald rhymes, “And when you're twenty-one, and your balls weigh half a ton, then you're a man, my son, then you're a man!” I would have to tell them that at a more opportune moment because just then a porter appeared with a barrow and hefted the bags onto it. He had already retrieved a large cabin trunk from the guard's van and, following him, we made our way to the waiting taxi. All the possessions were loaded. Lachs very courteously tipped him sixpence and as the porter closed the door he touched his cap to Lachs. We felt very upper crust at all this!
The journey home was remarkably quiet other than I heard the reiterated statement that they were so glad to see me and were looking forward to their stay. Flea said that Pin Mill House stank of antiseptic and washing and that the nurse and Nanny Saunders had already had a blazing row over who was in charge of the patient! They said their mother had sent her love and Georgie wanted to know when he would see me again.
Luckily, when we arrived at No 18 Pa and Ma were there to greet us. Pa and I struggled with the cabin trunk and got it into the hall. Ma helped the boys with their suitcases, haversacks and tennis rackets. Pa's eyes lit up when he saw the rackets.
“Good,” he said, “I'll give you a game and if the Briggs' sisters are around they'll play as well.”
Hunh, I thought. They were Tom and Dunc's partners last year! Tom will be miffed, no doubt, to have his partner hijacked. Still a bit of competition for Betty might be interesting! I found out then that Pa knew the elder sister as she had started work at the labs after getting Higher School Cert in Physics and Maths last summer and was going to university next year.
Ma had made sandwiches for tea and then we had supper later which satisfied everyone's hunger. And then it was early to bed as the boys said they were tired. They laughed when they saw the put-you-up bed and said no way was I sleeping in that. In fact, I didn't. In fact, no sooner were we in bed then their tiredness vanished and three boys rapidly came twice each with a loving wank and a loving suck.
*
I was woken early by a furious shaking of my bare shoulder.
“Come on,” said an imperious voice in my ear, “You and me are going for a run. We can leave Sir snoring his head off.”
A nude Flea was standing by the bed. He had already drawn the blackout curtains back so he was well lit by the early morning light. Yes, as I thought, from the feel of it last night, his young cock had grown even since the New Year. It was now drooping quite lengthily over his saggy bollocks. He saw me eying his equipment and stood back a bit and grinned.
“I'm growing fast!” he announced in a very proud voice. “Another three-quarters of an inch down there and.....” He held a hand above his head. “...another three-quarters of an inch this way.” He smirked. “If both keep up like this and I reach five foot five like him, that down there will be about eleven inches!”
I reached out and batted the child as instructed the day before - I gave his thigh a slap.
“Don't boast or I'll tell Bran next time we see him and he'll have that little sausage for supper.”
Flea retaliated by diving at me and clasping me round the chest. I was half in and out of the bed and, unfortunately, kicked poor Lachs who protested.
“For crying out loud!” he protested, “Take the imp out and run him into the ground! I need my sleep.”
“You poor old thing, you're so old you're decrepit. Potty says you're so aged you ought to be my grandfather. Andrew do this, Andrew do that. Yes Sir, no Sir, three bags full!”
Lachs rolled over and pulled the covers over his head. I grabbed hold of Flea and smacked his backside again as I slid out of bed. He just grinned at me.
“Got to keep up the brotherly warfare,” he whispered, “ ”Keeps the poor old soul on his toes.”
“I heard that,” came a muffled whisper from the bed.
I was scrabbling around in my chest of drawers and found my running togs.. Flea was still in the nude.
“Are you going out like that?” I asked. “That poor little thing will get frostbite!”
Flea just grinned and started to pull on his pants and shorts which he had ready by the side of the bed. He was ready, plimsolls, rugger shirt and pullover all in record time.
“Come on, you great dumb beast,” he said, giggling. “By the way, Georgie says you've got 'a roight tidy pizzle for a furriner'. He said you beat his brother hands down. Good job he didn't see Matt's, eh?”
“You leave my friends out of it,” I said admonishingly, “Matt's got the most tidiest pizzle of all.”
“I know,” said the imp, “He showed me more than once. When is he back?”
I said he should be back today and I certainly wasn't going to let Flea tease him as well. I said I would set both Matt and Tom on him and they would tame him.
“Thank God,” came a muffled voice from the bed, “Now get him out of here!”
I was dressed by then in my usual gear and we set off at a steady pace. We didn't have much energy for talking as we concentrated on keeping up a good turn of speed. I was amazed, big-headed me, at how well the much shorter Flea kept up. Even when I increased my pace he doggedly kept up. I only tried that a couple of times and as we came up the road to my house he panted and said he'd enjoyed running with me because I kept him right at his limits. Once back in the bedroom we stripped off and Flea pushed me back into bed - it was still only half-past seven - and my limits were stretched as he sucked me off and I responded as only a horny fifteen-year-old could with a copious outflow of my morning boy-juice. As soon as I had recovered he was upended and my mouth was soon full of his full-cream outflow. A rather disgruntled Lachs complained of the disturbance in his bed - HIS bed! We snuggled up and let the old boy sleep on. Think of what he was missing at his time of life!
We did wake him, just after eight o'clock, by a concerted attack on his elderly body. Even at seventeen he was still able to maintain a hardon, but only for a few minutes. It wilted quite rapidly after he had shot a substantial load in my mouth while his impish brother was licking and sucking on other protuberant portions of his anatomy. He, in his ancient way, moaned and groaned as we lifted him to the summit of his waning, primeval frenzy. At least that was the gist of our whisperings into his venerable old ear-lugs.
We three, lay giggling and sexually replete until we smelt that wonderful aroma of fresh toast which sensuously crept through the crack of the door frame telling us breakfast was being prepared. Three rather smelly, sweaty youngsters - Lachs included in that grouping! - crawled out of bed, visited the bathroom for a much-needed pee, and washed one by one at the sink before dressing tidily, then drawn downstairs by the newly added aroma of fried bacon! Bliss! Sexual satiation plus the prospect of food. What more could we wish for at our age?
The day progressed fast. As it was Good Friday we had to have fish for lunch so Lachs and I were sent off to procure five portions of fish and chips at twelve o'clock. Even then there was a queue but it smelt gorgeous and we were soon pedalling home. When we got back Pa and Flea were in earnest conversation and Ma was up in her room writing. There was no sign of the returning warriors from the rugger match. I thought Tom would have been back by early afternoon so we went off and explored the city for Lachs' benefit this time.
That night we tried out Lachs' venerable stamina and he didn't disappoint us youngsters. We all came three times. I was going to say effortlessly, but that would lower the intensity and power of the feelings which we must have all experienced. I know I did.
*
I was awake first and pushed Flea, uncomplainingly, out of bed and we prepared, quietly, leaving the snoring grampus, for our run. As we started out Flea said he hadn't told me the day before but he was determined he was going to win the Junior Half Mile at the School sports and beat Titty who fancied himself as a runner. I said I had my eye on that race for our school sports as well. As we jogged along he said he was going to bet Titty that whoever lost would have to do anything the other one wanted. He sniggered and said when he won, as he was sure he would, he would get Titty to suck him off.
I wondered about this and thought about it as we ran steadily on. As we reached the park on the way back I had made my mind up.
“Hey, Flea,” I asked, “Have you and Titty done that yet?”
He grunted “No” and slowed his pace.
“What have you done?” I went on.
“Only..., You know..., Together...”
“No sucking?”
He shook his head.
“Do you do it together every night? You know, toss each other off?”
He looked at me and grinned. We knew each other now well enough not to have secrets. He nodded.
“Has Titty ever suggested anything else?”
“No. I wouldn't mind though. He's a good friend.” He punched me lightly on the arm. “And he's growing fast, too!”
When I had been thinking about Flea's bet I'd thought of Tim Parker.
“I've got a good friend,” I said, “You've met him, Tim.”
Flea nodded.
“We've done the other but he hasn't wanted to go any further. Perhaps Titty doesn't want to if he's never mentioned it.”
We slowed right down and Flea looked at me steadily.
“I hadn't thought of that,” he said, ruminatively, “Titty knows about sucking 'cause it gets talked about but he's never suggested we try it.”
He continued looking at me as we picked up our pace.
“Thanks Jacko,” he murmured, “I won't ask him. I wouldn't want something like that to break up our friendship.”
When we got back in we went straight to the bathroom and stripped off to have a bath. He turned and hugged me just before we got into the bath.
“You've made me think,” he said, “I was being selfish. I wouldn't mind doing that with him, but..” He shook his head. “...You're right. I shouldn't make that demand if I won. Potty said you're sensible....” He grinned at me. “...I told him some of the things you'd told me before.”
Needless to say the warmth of the water did wondrous things to lengths and breadths and I was able to study at first hand, in fact both hands, and in daylight, the increased dimensions of young Flea's prick. There was no inhibition of break-up of friendship with us as we savoured the feel of each other's sturdy young rods as we slurped and, finally, swallowed, the morning's outpourings. Flea sighed, then grinned at me.
“Titty doesn't know what he's missing!”
I wagged a finger at him and said we'd better go and get the Ancient Mariner up ready for breakfast.
The Ancient One was not pleased at having two clean-smelling, lively youngsters bouncing either side of him urging him to move his elderly bones. He had been so fast asleep there was no sign of a morning hardon and he threatened to remove two sets of testicles when we said he was really showing his age. We stood well back and waved said testicles at him an unwise thing to do for his brother who, on turning to retrieve his underpants from the bedside chair, was swiftly grabbed and up-ended over the bed with a brotherly hand grasping his precious possessions.
“One sound out of you, little brother,” hissed Lachs, “And you'll be singing soprano in Kerslake Cathedral choir until you're ninety-five! And if I hear Potty mentioned today I'll ram the remnants up you so far you'll have two lumps on the top of your head to hang your halo on!”
I was safe. “Potty says....” I said. I wasn't safe. The blond tornado let go of his brother and launched himself over the bed and grabbed me, luckily not by the knackers, but by the wrists. “If you're not careful, I'll chop your hands off and then where would you be for your favourite sport?”
A voice came from the other side of the bed. “Don't worry, Jacko, I'll always help you out.” Loud sucking noises then ensued and three boys collapsed once more in giggles.
Flea and I then grabbed Lachs and he was up-ended on the bed and tickled relentlessly until a loud banging on the door signalled that either too much noise was being produced, or, breakfast was ready.
Pa was down in the kitchen making a large pot of porridge when Lachs was washed and all three of us had dressed and made our way down. Pa shook the spoon he was using to stir the porridge threateningly at Lachs.
“I'm ashamed of you,” he said, much to Lachs' immediate discomfiture, “Can't you keep those two youngsters under control. They need a bit of military discipline. Two days confined to barracks and no grub, eh?” He laughed. “That one there....” He pointed the spoon at me. “...Would fade away so quickly through lack of nourishment, I think!”
Flea beside me laughed. “Mummy says she's never seen anyone eat so much and Edward said his younger brother was just like that.” He eyed Pa at a safe distance. “That's you, isn't it?”
Lachs turned and stared at his brother as if wondering how he dared say anything like that. But all Pa did was laugh himself and said it was very true. Three boys were then instructed to hold out their bowls, like the Three Bears, and were given copious amounts of good, thick porridge. At least, I knew something else Pa was good at, as well as Maths.
That set the day. Lachs tried to use his military command over us, but to no avail. We both teased him and I knew, secretly, he enjoyed every minute of it. I had seen him relax from the moment we had met on the station. I did swipe Flea's bum a couple of times when I thought he might have gone a bit too far with comments but Lachs just grinned.
After lunch we were trying to decide what to do when two rather battered warriors appeared within minutes of each other. Tom was first, sporting a gash on the side of his chin and a bandaged finger on his left hand. Matt, when ushered in, looked a bit sheepish. He had a black eye.
The story, or stories, as they came out, was that the match had started out well until one of the Fensham prop forwards had rather unsportingly gripped Chris Prosser's goolies when the scrum had collapsed. I knew Chris was likely to be wary of further damage to his pendulous bollocks as I had witnessed the low blow at the boxing tournament. Chris was built like a bull in more ways than one. If he'd had a ring through his nose, like the usual specimen, I would think the ref would have led him off the field by it from the tale which then emerged. Chris was more than enraged and over the next fifteen minutes had rampaged around the field, grabbing the ball and steam-rollering sundry opponents who got in his way. Prop forwards don't usually score tries but he had flattened all comers three times and Andy Symes had converted each one. This had incensed the opposition as well as Tom Rankin had taken the opportunity of delivering a cruncher to the other team's prop's balls in retaliation and that prop was also a more than well-built lad.
Matt had got his black eye when, as scrum-half, he had stood too near the opposing nut-crushed prop forward, as he threw the ball into the middle of the scrum. The prop had pushed Chris away as he heeled the ball back and had, inadvertently, as he said after, walloped poor Matt who still had his head down watching the progress of the ball. That was just one of the injuries. Tom had got his two as he vainly tried to stem the tide of the opposing pack and had his hand trodden on at one point and had his head on the ground too near someone's boot for the second assault on his beauty. Apparently, they were not the only ones sporting cuts or, more likely, bruises, on either side. Still, at the end of the game, won by our school, when they were in the bath everyone became friends again and the opinion was it had been a good game. Even Chris and the other prop were seen inspecting each other for unwanted damage, according to Matt, much to the amusement of the rest of the two teams.
Naturally, Matt and Lachs had much to discuss as they were both scrum-halves and Flea was teasing Tom within minutes and so, me, poor Jacko, sat on the sidelines, like the proverbial spare prick at the wedding again, listening. I didn't mind as time passed fairly fast and it would soon be tea-time.
That night in bed we decided to test the old man's stamina. Lachs was assailed and ended up an almost quivering wreck having been caressed, wanked, sucked, stroked, wanked, sucked, licked, wanked, sucked, nuzzled, wanked, sucked, fondled, fingered, wanked and sucked for a final time. Five times in all, while us youngsters contented ourselves with an abstemious three times each. As I whispered to Flea when Lachs gasped and panted through his final climax “There's life in the old dog, yet!” He growled and murmured, “Just wait, you two!”
*
Sunday morning Pa announced we had all been invited out to the Gardiners for tea. Flea was all agog as he wanted to meet Chris. Not only because he'd heard of the now-burnt photos but he was a pilot! Lachs had recovered from his ordeal by sexual release and said to me during the morning, out of earshot of the ever present Flea, that he wanted to tell me some things which he didn't want Flea to hear.
The five of us squashed into Pa's car and were soon at the old farmhouse. Flea and Chris were soon in deep conversation and the four grown-ups decided on a rubber of Bridge before tea so I said I would show Lachs around the countryside. We hadn't gone far when I noticed he kept adjusting his genitalia.
“What's the matter?” I enquired after the third or fourth clutching at his groin.
“My balls ache,” He said, giving them another rub. “The pair of you were a bit rough last night, but I'm not complaining.” He added that with a grin.
I laughed. “You're certainly OK for your age,” I said, “Even Flea admitted that. He said this morning he couldn't imagine being seventeen let alone over twenty.”
“I'm only seventeen,” riposted Lachs, “It's a very responsible age. I've got all sorts of decisions to make soon. I'm definitely trying for the Military College at Woolwich. Bradley's there and he says it'll be just right for me. So exams and interviews next year and goodbye to school.” He looked at me. “I'll miss that. And I'll miss Flea. Potty goes next year too, so I hope he'll have someone to keep an eye on him.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I've talked to Bastable, who contrary to what Flea and the others think, does have a head on his shoulders and he says he and Wilkie will be on the lookout for him.” He shook his head. “He's so well-liked which is a good thing.”
We walked along a bit further before he spoke again. I realised what he'd told me was only a prelude to something else.
“I've got to tell you this, but you promise you'll only tell Flea if anything happens,” We stopped walking and he looked me straight in the eyes. He was very serious.
“I promise,” I said, “Whatever it is, I promise.”
He smiled. “I know I can trust you.”
We resumed our walk and came to a field with a stile leading to a path. For the beginning of April it wasn't too cold so we sat with our backs to the low wall the other side of the stile on the large flat stones which had been left there.
“You know I went and stayed with Cartwright at Christmas,” he said. I nodded. “We had a good time. Poor old Cartwright is fourteen years younger than his next sister.” He grinned at me. “He isn't a bit like his father who's only interested in hunting, shooting and fishing and shuts himself away every day in his study looking at old copies of the Horse and Hound.” He nudged me. “Mrs C's much younger and has giving up trying to drag the old boy off to dances and Hunt Balls and Cartwright is convinced he's the result of one of her affairs. Apparently she's well-known in the area for hangers-on.” He laughed again. “Shouldn't tell you this but Cartwright's quite open about it and he says his sisters laugh about it. They're both married and have sons who'll be joining our prep school soon. Well, anyway, that's only part of what I have to tell you. You still promise?”
I nodded. Tales of upper-crust shenanigans were not in my realm of knowledge other than seeing lurid headlines sometimes on the copies of the News of the World which I saw when helping Tom deliver his papers on a Sunday. Generally these were of vicars and choirboys but I had seen a report of a rather odd divorce one morning. Sir Somebody or Other at an hotel in Sussex with someone not his wife. I was all ears.
The tale that came out was not anything like that.
“I've told you about Bradley haven't I?” he started. “And you know about the boy who left our school and that those two thugs were somehow involved?”
I nodded at both of these questions.
“I didn't know,” he continued, “But Bradley is related in some way to the lad's family. At the beginning of the Christmas holiday he went to visit them on the pretext of showing off his Officer Cadet's uniform, very military is Bradley! He stayed overnight and had the room next to the lad and in the morning went in and got him talking. The lad admires Bradley and in the end told him what had actually happened. The lad loves cricket and Castleman and Fitzroy offered to show him how to keep the score book properly so they took him to the cricket pavilion and up into the scorer's box. Our scorer's box is quite big and there are seats and a bench in there. They showed the lad the book and then Castleman started to undo the lad's flies and while Fitzroy held him they stripped him off. They took their clothes off too and the lad was getting more and more scared because Fitzroy then held him down over the bench while Castleman raped him. The lad said Fitzroy had his hand over his mouth so he couldn't scream out and as soon as Castleman had finished they changed places and Fitzroy raped him as well.”
I must have looked aghast. Lachs put a hand on my knee.
“Poor kid. Flea nearly had that!” He paused a moment. “After Fitzroy finished they made the kid toss himself off. They kept calling him names because he was so scared he couldn't do it and it took ages. In the end Castleman just grabbed him and whacked him off so violently the lad said he nearly passed out when he came. Then the pair of them fucked him again. They told him to get dressed and if he said anything they would say he lured them to the pavilion and the cum on the floor was proof he'd tossed himself off in front of them. Of course, he was so scared and sore he went to his room and went straight to bed. His roommate knew something was wrong but the lad begged him not to say anything. In the end the other boy did tell one of the prefects but it was a few days later and the lad wouldn't say what had happened. Of course, the rumours were that Castleman and Fitzroy were involved but no proof and the parents sent the lad to another school.”
Lachs squeezed my knee.
“Andrew was very lucky he didn't get the same treatment. Bradley came over to Cartwright's on Boxing Day and told us what had happened.” He squeezed my knee again. “We've promised to get those two wherever they might be. You promise, if anything happens, you tell Flea the truth.”
Tears were running down my cheeks and poor Lachs was dewy-eyed. I turned and hugged him and all I could do was nod. We sat in silence for quite a long time an arm round each other's shoulders. At last Lachs broke the silence.
“Flea told me about being at that Manor at New Year and what happened. You're his very special best friend.” He turned and grinned. “You know what I mean, because you're the same to me as well!”
We stood up and I was able to speak by then. I said I would do anything for him and Flea, whatever either of them wanted, whenever and forever. We hugged each other and as we sauntered back Lachs asked me about Ulvescott Manor and all the happenings there. I said he would be invited there as soon as possible. I said I felt it was like a second home for me. Lachs said that Flea thought it was my home.
Tea was scrumptious and Flea hadn't exhausted Chris's patience as he was still telling him how to fly and how exhilarating it was up there amongst the clouds. Flea was hooked!
The rest of the Easter holiday went so fast it was unbelievable. Easter Monday Pa took the boys with Tom to the local tennis club where Pa had been a member before the war. The Briggs girls were roped in and I was regaled with tales of love-forty, deuce, match points, games, sets and so on which went completely over my head. Cricket and tennis were not my idea of how to spend even our un-balmy English summer afternoons. Sitting in the sun with a good book. Yes!
On the Wednesday Mrs Marcham invited us three to tea and Lachs was introduced to Tony and Kats. His response was the same as Flea's at New Year and he said he hadn't discussed her with him. It was “Wow, that girl's got the hots for you!”
Any teasing about what the 'hots' meant was completely forgotten when on Friday April the Sixth there was a telephone call in the evening to say that Lachs and Flea had a sister, Julia Cameron Thomson, born at three o'clock that afternoon and weighing seven pounds! Mother and child doing well. Uncle Edward sounded jubilant on the 'phone and said that there was even a truce between the nurse and Nanny Saunders!
Wild celebration! Pa unearthed a magnum of champagne and the baby's head was duly wetted and the boys congratulated on having the first female Thomson child in the family for at least four generations. My remark that Matt's sister's name was Julia, too, but her birthday was in July, was met with giggles from the boys and a laugh from Pa.
“Edward said the baby would be called either Julia or Julian,” explained Lachs, “And when I asked why he said couldn't I count.”
I must have looked particularly dumb, like one of young Georgie's beasts as Flea slapped me on the back, almost making me drop my precious glass of champagne. “I knew,” he chortled, “Young Georgie told me at the wedding but I didn't really know what he was on about.”
I still didn't know what he was on about, either. Ma fixed me with a quizzical eye.
“You're supposed to be a mathematician, can't you count either?”
Wedding in October. Baby in April. Nine months. Count. July!! Oh!!!
I blushed. Such matters were not usually discussed. Still no one in the room seemed unhappy about it. But... Uncle Edward and Aunt Della... Before they got married!!
A second glass of champagne soon dispelled my feelings of inadequacy over the knowledge of such things and in bed that night the boys enlightened me on several things. Aunt Della's tiredness at the wedding and the fact that young Georgie, well-versed in these matters as country boys seemed to be, had spotted the inevitable signs of swelling even before the wedding. He had confided his suspicions to Flea there and then without Flea comprehending the import of the intelligence. At Christmas it was even more obvious when even the boys had noticed and been told of the impending event but didn't know the dates. I was ribbed again about Kats and had to shut Flea up by the only way I knew - for two minutes!
As at Christmas I had a couple of days at school before the boys had to go off. Ma had finished most of the opus about Don Juan which turned out to be the Case of the Silver Swan when I found the newly typed manuscript on her desk. She took that to London for the publisher to read and give a decision and the boys went with her on the first part of their journey back to school. My journey through the dreaded School Certificate exams was just about to start.