by Rafael Henry

Chapter 36


'What on earth were you doing up there all that time Otta? I think Peter was getting a bit concerned you'd been eaten by the mob.'

'He's tricky Jon, but I wasn't about to give up easily.'

'So have you given up? Accepted defeat?'

'No, not yet anyway. I'm going back tomorrow at seven and most evenings after that too. Until I get the job done. Peter will tell the boys I'm helping out generally, you know, helping in the evenings. All that stuff. That's what it will look like. You'll be marking essays anyway. I'll be back by ten at the latest. I see a critical need here Jon. I can't turn my back on him.'

'Are you smitten Otta……if you don't mind my asking?'

'What does it look like Jon?'

'By the idea? Not the boy?'

'By the idea of bringing something beautiful and important into the world Jon.'

'So it is the boy then?'

Otta goes bright pink in his pretty face. He doesn't fool me, and he knows he can't. I know him too well.

'If you say so. By the way, can we make love tonight please?'

'Of course. Is it a bit urgent?'

'Yes. You know I have a lot to give don't you?'

'I do, and that's wonderful. Now? You're getting me all excited.'

'Yes, now.'

Oh dear, he's got this one bad. Story time I think, and lets take him right back to the early days. You know, behind the bike sheds? I think it's the opportunism in that scenario that excites him, and me too. With sound effects or without? I'll ask him.

No need to undress for this one. A sloppy kiss and a good old-fashioned schoolboy tossing off session is in order, but no time to organize my absolutely stunning sounds. Otta still doesn't know. Maybe there'll be a right time one day. Maybe not?

A month later.

'What will we need Otta? Will he bring everything with him? When do we collect him? Friday evening I suppose.'

'No, Saturday morning. I'm the overnight volunteer on Friday. By the way my CRB check came back ok so I can do the night shifts now. Wulff thought the beach a great idea. He won't need to bring anything with him. He's ours for the day. I haven't broken through with him yet, not completely, but it's coming…….slowly.'

We smile together, and then I hug the best friend I ever had, and tell him I love him. We kiss, briefly, and then I let him go.

'That's the best way isn't it? Slowly?'

He laughs.

'Tricky though.'

'Well you've got better at it over the years.'

'That's because I'm in control.' He says , eyes narrowed, voice lowered. It's true. Our sex is always best when the manboy is in control, as I watch myself disappear. Oooh. 'Twas ever thus.

Our day on Viking beach with Wulff was great, as expected. We sat and chatted while Wulffy had a wander with a spade digging various holes in various places and starting conversations with various people. He seems to be able to chat away when it suits him, despite his semi-verbal diagnosis at Holland House. OK, he's on the spectrum, as they say, but nowhere near the middle.

Our day out was dependent on his agreeing to Otta giving him some one-to-one tuition on the piano, which we considered to be considerable progress with him. We got him changed on the beach, behind towels held up to those parts of his body from the public gaze, but not ours. He's just that little bit too old to be seen nude on the beach, not that that would bother him. Apollo indeed! As a new boy to our school, he would have all interested parties talking about him I'm quite certain, as one of the pretties things on the block for some time. Otta is behaving like some proud elder brother. A bit odd that. He's not much good at lying, apart from in bed, so I know when there's something he's not telling me. Yes, he's smitten with this boy, and I don't think the age difference makes any odds, with him or me. Anyone who appreciates beauty is going to want to look at this example in every detail. Wulff is just one of those you cannot ignore. That evening I thought I would ask.

'You've been a bit quiet Otta. What's up?'


'That's what you say when there definitely is something.'

I'm going to make a guess here. You never know.

'So what happened last night? You were on the night shift were you not? Everything go according to plan? Wulff play up a bit?


'Well what then? You may as well tell me Otta.'

Something to do with Wulff. It has to be.

'Last night.'

'What about it? You were on duty at Holland House weren't you.'

'Yes. All the others had their lights out. Wilff was late. We'd been practising a piano piece until about nine thirty. He said he didn't want a shower so I didn't insist. We went to his room to get him ready for bed. He sat on the edge and put his arms up looking at me. So I pulled his tee shirt off. He kept looking at me, like, why don't you do the rest of it? So I did. Then he put his hands on my hips……and pulled……everything…….down. You know what we talked about. If either wanted to do anything…….with anyone else it was ok? So long as we were honest about it?'

'Yes I do. And have you?'

'A bit, yes.'

'What, exactly?'

'He's promiscuous Jon. Peter told me. There's quite a lot of history with Wulff. You know, other incidents with boys and…….others.'

'And who?'

'Just trying it on.'

'But not getting anywhere?'

'No of course not.'

'Except you.'

'It was too much Jon. I couldn't…..'

'So you're feeling a bit drained are you? You know, a bit tired after your sleepless night?'

'I slept in the chair Jon.'

'So you weren't in his bed?'

'No. Not at any time.'

'I won't ask you any more questions then? You have to be careful with that boy Otta. I quite understand what's going on in your head. It's difficult for you.'

'Yes it is.'

'So do we want to risk a weekend with him?'

'I can ask him, if we're agreed?'

There's a letter on the mat when I go off to work at eight. The address is crudely written. It's addressed to Otta.

I would like to come and stay, as soon as I can come please, or whenever it is convenient with both of you. Please give my best regards to Jon. Lots of love. Wulff.

Yes, I read it. I knew it from him so I had to. Otta will understand why I opened it. What Otta doesn't quite see yet, is that I feel pretty much the same as he does.

Two week later, exactly. Monday morning. 06.30.

'Was he ok when you took him back?'

'Fine. Peter met us at the gate. He seemed thrilled that the weekend went so well.'

'No detailed questions then?'


'When you got back you were an excited young man, if I may say so.'

'So were you.'

'I've never seen it happen like that before…….with you.'

'Oh. What? I noticed you went on longer than usual. You can't keep me waiting for ever. It's not fair. I suppose that what happens? Does it? I didn't really notice.'

I suppose he doesn't see much these days, and doesn't know how he's progressed since those dry old days. Mind you, there was an intensity there when boys first get the call to arms.

I had arranged a meeting with Roger, our chaplain at school. I havn't seen him for ages, but after I got that package with the video and audio tapes in it, literally years after the event, or events, I feel a meeting is in order, and before his leaving 'do'.

I was aware at the time, that's to say while both Otta and I were still at the school, that Roger had an interest in both of us.A healthy one, before you ask, at least we thought so. Wrong again. That's why he gave into temptation with me, very mildly, and with my blessing. He'd been my mentor in many ways and I felt a good deal of genuine affection for him. In roundabout ways he'd told me about his deeper feelings, and there had been very mild physical contact between us. We'd been talking and I had developed something of a bump in front, and the back of his hands had pressed me there. I didn't shrink or anything. The obvious problem being that he was in a position of trust and I was very much a minor, so whatever he thoughts were, they couldn't be aired. Ever. Until now of course because we are all adults. Now whatever he thought is of no consequence. What I want to know now is much more of his thinking, then, and now come to that. Hence the meeting. Otta's is in some sort of a fix with this Apollo creature, but for the same reasons, is hamstrung. You can look and think what you like but you must not touch. If Roger wants to come clean and get things off his chest, I am more than ready to listen. I think he feels he's in last chance saloon, and if he is, I'm not going to deny him.

But I want the truth, and the whole truth.

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