The Apprentice
Part II
by and © N Fourbois
Chapter 28
Kieran walked to the bus stop on the first part of the journey to his first day at the College. He proudly wore his new uniform of navy blue barathea blazer with its discreet badge, dark grey trousers, striped shirt and sixth form tie. The previous day he had had his hair cut and on rising this morning he had given himself a wet shave. He wanted to give a positive impression befitting the good reputation of the establishment and the welcoming way it had accepted him and his application. Because he was 'young for his year' it had been agreed that he should restart in the lower sixth with new courses, which meant that he would after all not be the only new boy. Sitting on the top deck of the bus he contemplated the past few months: the misfortune turned blessing of being suspended from St Sergius's School, which consequently forced him to come out to his family, the guidance of his gay uncle, the lightning romance with Orlando, the way his parents had supported him against his former school, and particularly his lightning romance with Orlando. They had parted on amicable terms. Logic had prevailed over emotion. Orlando was to take up his place at university and they both realised that a long distance relationship with the occasional weekend together between now and Christmas was not going to work. Kieran adored Orlando and was sure Orlando felt the same towards him.
While Kieran sat there locked inside his private world he had not noticed that the bus had picked up other boys, those of his age in a similar uniform, younger ones in royal blue serge blazers, white shirts, a variation on the tie and light grey trousers, the blazers all sporting the same badge. He wondered how he would fit in. Unofficially the College had a reputation for tolerance towards gay pupils, but he had decided not advertise the fact he was gay, but find his place in society first. He was jogged out of his reverie when a boy his age sat down beside and brushed against him.
"Hallo, I'm Jack Bastion. I'm starting the sixth form after three years here. You must be new at College?"
"Yes, that's right. My name's Kieran Williams."
"Do you know anyone there?"
"No, not really. I met some of the boys when I had lunch there on my interview day."
"I thought I recognised you. I was in that group. So, you know me," said Jack. "When we get to school, I'll look after you and show you the ropes... Well, that's if you want me to. There's no compulsion."
"Sure, I think that's fine. I'd like that. It's just that I'm surprised. No one would have acted like that at my last school... you know so considerately."
"Which school was that?"
"St Sergius's."
"Isn't St Sergius the patron saint of homosexuals?" said Jack with a laugh.
"So I've heard."
"Mmm, odd name for a school."
At that stage someone pressed the bell and as the bus stopped, there was a civilised stampede to get off.
"Stick with me, Kieran," said Jack. A crocodile made its way through the school gates under a painted wrought iron arch with the College's name and shield worked into it. Blackboards were placed in strategic positions to point various classes of pupil in the right direction.
"It's a long time since I saw one of those," said Kieran.
"What's that?"
"Blackboards and chalk."
"Oh, they only come out on occasions like this. I know the College has an oldie worlde atmosphere, but I think you'll find the equipment's up to date."
"Oh, I know it is. I saw it when I was shown around."
The boys were greeted by the Head of Sixth Form who sent the boys he knew to one room and the new boys to another.
"I'll catch you later, Kieran," said Jack as they parted. The new boys were welcomed by one of the deputy heads who informed them that the Headmaster would shortly arrive to welcome them personally, and he did so. He spent a little time with each, taking the trouble to learn their names and find out a little about them. The dozen or so newcomers rejoined the rest of the sixth form and the Head of Sixth explained the programme for the rest of the day.
"I want to welcome you back and into the sixth form. I hope you all enjoyed the holidays and congratulations to those in the lower sixth on your GCSE results." He continued with the information that concerned everyone, then sent the old hands in the upper sixth off to do whatever it was they had to do. He continued with the lower sixth. "As many of you know, we start the Autumn Term on a Friday so that we can get all the admin out of the way in order to start work in earnest on Monday, and may I remind you that among all the distractions we provide, and which are important for your personal development, schoolwork is and remains our raison d'être and first priority. It gives the sportsmen among you the chance to attend trials, particularly for the rugby XVs tomorrow, but the games department staff will be talking to you about that and your games options later."
The briefing lasted over half an hour and Kieran was pleased he had Jack by his side to guide him through the intricacies of College life and tradition. Finally they could take a break and Jack took Kieran with the others to the sixth form area. After break it was back to the lecture theatre where the boys learnt their tutor groups and who their form tutors were. This led to further admin, another break and eventually lunch.
In its wisdom the College believed in a long working morning and a short afternoon. Lunch gave Jack the opportunity to introduce Kieran to his friends. In the self-service style dining hall the boys sat at tables of eight with whomever they wanted to. Later in a quieter moment at home Kieran wondered why Jack Bastion had picked him out of the crowd, as it were, and was so considerate towards him.
After what had seemed an interminable day they reached the final session, again led by the Head of Sixth Form.
"Those of you that are new might be surprised to learn that College still maintains its fagging system; the old hands will know the advantages of it and the ethos behind it and I hope they will bear with me if I go into a full explanation. First of all, get out of your heads any idea of Flashman and Tom Brown's Schooldays. There is no beating of recalcitrant fags and any form of cruelty will be dealt with seriously. Also the demands you can make on your fag are extremely limited.
"When our new boys enter the Third Form, Year 9 to those of you used to the new way of counting, they usually come from the top of a prep school where they are given considerable authority and privileges. Here they begin again at the bottom of the heap and while some are overconfident and need debouncing, others can be bewildered in a large establishment that might appear impersonal and threatening. Your duty towards your fag is as a guide, a mentor, a comforter. In return you can demand simple services from him - cleaning the mud off your rugby boots, fetching something from the tuckshop, making toast and coffee will act as examples. In return you will tip him according to merit, a pound, no more than two pounds a week. The reason that we continue this tradition is that it teaches you how to deal with people and it teaches the fags the idea of humility and their place in society. These may be old fashioned notions, but nonetheless valuable, and this is how the success of your relationship will be judged. Third formers are expected to fag; fourth formers have no duty to fag whatsoever. However, the sign of a successful relationship is that when you enter the upper sixth, your fag will want to continue the relationship into the fourth form. This has a ninety odd percent success rate, believe it or not, but you will have to work at it. Any questions?"
"What happens if you have personal objections to the system?"
"Nothing, but if you do, let us know as we have to consider your assigned fag. We don't enforce it. It a tradition and part of the ethos."
"What happens if your fag is unwilling?" came a voice from the back of the lecture room.
"Again nothing. Slavery was abolished in 1833. We cannot make anyone do anything. All I will say is that it is a challenge to your PQs and he will miss out and be poorer for the lack of the experience."
"PQs?" enquired another voice.
"Personal qualities. We view this as training for life. Any more questions?" Since there weren't, the names of the assigned fags were read out and the hundred or more lower sixth formers filed out to the assembly hall to meet their fags.
Kieran was searching for a certain William McLarney. As the pairs gradually matched themselves up, the task became easier and Kieran soon found a boy with 'William' on his name badge
"You must be William McLarney," Kieran said. Large brown doe-like eyes were looking up at him out of a pale, beautiful face. The voice still had its rough edge from being freshly broken, but was clearly going to end up deep. The thirteen year old was shorter than most of his companions, but from what Kieran could see, perfect in every detail.
"That's me," came the reply in a confident, but not overconfident tone. Within a few seconds William came across as a successful product of the prep school system, confirmed with a firm shake of the hand.
"And you're going to be my fag?"
"If you want me to."
"Willingly?" William looked him up and down and Kieran thought he dwelt a tad longer than he should, looking at the trouser department, but he dismissed it as just being part of his own predilection and prejudices. He nodded, transfixing Kieran with his large William brown eyes.
"Willingly," he repeated, slowly and deliberately.
"So, which school have you come from?" William told him that and many other things about his sports and hobbies, even his family, punctuating each sentence with a smile which could only be described as sweet.
"You know that I am new here as well, William?"
"I didn't. We were told that we were to call each other by our surnames. That sounds silly if you call me William and I call you Williams." The boy's sharp, thought Kieran. "You should call me McLarney."
"I'm going to call you William... unless of course you're in trouble, and you shall call me Kieran," Kieran pronounced, re-establishing the initiative.
"Unless of course I'm in trouble," said William, retracing the conversation. It was an act of impudence that Kieran liked in the boy, insubordination almost by which means William established his independence as a person. He was going to be Kieran's fag, not because he was being forced to, but because this is what William wanted. But why? Was this a latter day Figaro or Passepartout, an admirable Crichton or Grimbling, a Jeeves to Kieran's Wooster? What on earth was he going to get the boy to do? He didn't want a manservant, a young gentleman's young gentleman; he had always been brought up to do things for himself. The encounter was brought to an end by the ringing of a bell in the corridor. William and Kieran parted company and Jack Bastion caught up with Kieran again.
"Well, that's it," said Jack. "You can go home now. That's if you want to, but we usually hang out for a bit. Socialising it's called officially. Later in the term you'll find you've got activities or you get on with prep. We could go off to the dining hall and get a cup of tea and a sticky bun, but now we're allowed make our own coffee and toast in the sixth form centre. We've even got access to microwaves. So bring your pot noodles along." Kieran gave Jack a look of disdain. "I gather you're not too keen on pot noodles. And we ought to bag ourselves a couple of study cubicles. That's where you'll keep all your stuff that you don't want to take home. Oh, not your games kit by the way. It can get pretty rancid in here at times without that."
It might have sounded like nagging, but Kieran was grateful to Jack for his help. He had met some of the chaps over lunch, but with a sixth form of over two hundred he had a few more people to meet, and these were the people he had to work with over the next two years.
Finally Jack said "Okay, lads, I'm off home. You coming, Kieran?" Kieran gathered his things together and he and Jack set off for the bus stop. "So what do you think of your first day?" asked Jack.
"A little bewildering. Because everything's a bit new I suppose. What do think about your fag?"
"Oh, typical mixture of cocky prep school boy, eager to establish himself in the pecking order, and apprehensive newcomer. How about yours?"
"I'd say the same, but I'd add a mixture of the sensitiveness and worldliness. He possesses a certain soft beauty in a hard body..." Kieran suddenly realised he had said too much, but the conversation got lost with the arrival of the bus. Seated upstairs the boys started a new topic of conversation. Jack got off at his stop which deposited Kieran in his own world again. He thought back over the day. The day inevitably led back to William. The boy had something about him. He hated to use the word charismatic about one so young, but there was a certain magnetism between them and fate had brought them together. Ironically his own homosexuality was the farthest thing from Kieran's mind. He had left that behind with Orlando. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost missed his stop. It was a good job someone else had pressed the bell to get off.
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