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A small sermon. Nothing in life is free. Everything costs, and Nifty is no different, so please send them a couple of $'s/£'s to cover costs and stuff. They're very discreet, and you won't get your name in lights if you do.

The Angel of Pie Jesu.

By John T. S. Teller.

Book one – Star in the Hood.

Part 12.

Gareth.

Ralf doesn't know it, but it's not easy for me to talk. I'm in love with his son, and the only way I'm going to continue our liaison is to create an environment where I can be with him. But despite me being a ruthless businessman, and having an ulterior motive, I'm not a callous bastard. I'm actually feeling very philanthropic towards this lovely family who are on their arses through no fault of their own. Fate has thrown us together, and if I were to walk away from here, I'd feel a real bastard knowing I was leaving them to an uncertain future. I have the ability to make this family almost whole again, and I bloody well intend doing it. I knew the reaction I would get from Ralf when I asked him why he didn't get a boat adapted and go back to sea. Any man worth his salt would have spit my words back at me, but I needed to be cruel to be kind. The next half hour will probably give me the answers to a lot of things. I hope it turns out right, because just the next few minutes will have me risking losing the most precious thing in the world to me. But I haven't got where I am without planning each move I make, and when I look at Ralf, I stare directly into his eyes. What I have to say has to come from the heart, and Ralf will know by my eyes whether I'm genuine or not.

**********

"Ralf!" That's from Gretel who is sitting, embroidering, but listening to our conversation.

I put my hand up. "It's OK, Gretel. I deserved that comment. Well, I would deserve it if was being condescending. But I'm not." I continue to stare at Ralf. "Ralf; there was a guy who had the ability to make money. Lots of money. Millions and millions of Pounds. He thought he had everything. But he didn't. One day, purely by chance, he went to a theatre in Berlin. There was a young boy singing. Something happened to that rich guy while he was in the theatre listening to the boy singing Pie Jesu. It was spiritual. An epiphany. During the time he was listening to this young boy singing, he realised that he was worth nothing. All the money he had couldn't buy that spiritual moment."

I see Ralf's face soften slightly. He takes a drink of his beer, and stares at me again, waiting for me to continue.

I take a drink of my own beer. "This rich guy went away from the theatre a different man than the one that went in. He had a CD of the boy's choir, and he got in his big expensive car and just drove, listening over and over again to the boy singing Pie Jesu. Then he stopped in the middle of nowhere, and cried his eyes out. He wasn't crying just because the boy's voice was so beautiful, he was crying because he realised how poor he really was. Yes, he had wealth; he had power; he had the choice of as many girls as he wanted, but he didn't choose any of them. He discovered that his wealth was the biggest barrier to his happiness than anything else. So, it's not easy for him to talk. Despite your disability, you're richer than he'll ever be."

Ralf takes another drink of his beer, and I copy him.

I continue. "After listening to that boy singing, the guy who made millions lost a lot of interest in making money. He'd made his first millions before he was sixteen, but now he didn't care if he never made another penny. But then he pulled himself together and got on with life. He had to. He'd worked himself up into a position where a lot of people relied on him for their living. He had no right to feel sorry for himself. So he knuckled down, but everywhere he went, he would always have the boy's Pie Jesu playing in the background. Then, one day, he was in Greifswald, messing about with his life because it had no direction, when he looked across the street and saw the boy who changed his life." I look at Ralf, and then across at Gretel. "Do you want me to continue?"

I can see that Gretel's eyes are misted over. She smiles at me. "Yes please, Gareth."

I smile at her. "This rich guy met the boy and his family. They were lovely people. Despite the father having suffered a terrible accident, there was more love in that family than any he'd ever seen. Certainly more love than any he'd experienced. He was invited to their home for a meal, and he studied them. Yes, there was a lot of love in that family, but there was something missing to make them complete... the father needed to be himself again; a proud fisherman who could hold his head up high and provide for his family as he'd always done, and he realised that he could be the key to him achieving that. He could repay this family for what they had done for him via the voice of their delightful child. So, he decided to mention the possibility, but the fact that he was once a bank robber and had made a lot of money, would, once again, stand between him and happiness."

Ralf grins. "She doesn't think you're bank robber now. That's when she thought you were English."

I laugh. "I reckon the description would suit him perfectly. He'd been as ruthless as one while he was making his millions. Anyway, he's sorry if he's offended you in any way. It was never his intention, although he did think you might react badly to what he said originally. Since they had that meal in The Teehaus, he's been thinking how he could repay Aleric's gift to him. He really would like to try and make the Hahn family whole again. Don't dismiss it out of hand, Ralf. If he's still invited to spend some time with you during Weihnachten, you can let him know your thoughts after you've discussed it with your family."

Gretel humphs again. "Of course you're still invited! He is, isn't he Ralf?"

Ralf takes a puff from his pipe, and stares at me. "Yes. I'm sorry for the way I reacted."

I stare into his solar-flare eyes. "I think I would have done exactly the same. I did plan for it."

Ralf giggles. "I think you must have spent hours thinking about it."

"It's what I do. I want to buy us a boat, fit it out for you, and become your partner. A German and a Welshman working together. We can't lose. But I will expect free fish as a perk of the partnership."

Ralf's eyes take on a sparkle. "I'll let you know after Gretel and the boys and I have discussed things. But I'm not sure about the free fish. Will that be OK?"

"That will be fine, but it's no deal without the free fish. Just one other thing. Would you be offended if I bought a few presents for you all when I come for Heiligabend?"

Another sparkle from his eyes. "I daren't say `no' to anything now, or you'll come out with another lengthy diatribe, and it's taking up precious drinking time. Another beer?"

I laugh. "No thanks. I'm driving, so I daren't have any more."

Gretel interrupts. She points to the sofa. "That's a pull out divan. You're welcome to stay the night with pleasure. I know Ralf would like you to. It's rare for him to have male adult company to chew the fat."

I look at the divan, and then at Gretel. "Bring us a couple of beers... Schatz."

Ralf roars with laughter, and Schatz swipes me on the head as she retrieves our steins.

Aleric.

I can't wait to get back home, and when we get into the house I'm excited when Gunther tells me that Gareth is staying the night. I go into the living room and see dad and Gareth drinking. They both look at me. I can't take the huge grin off my face when I point at them and say, "You both drink too much!" Dad giggles. Gareth giggles. I feel that I could cry with joy, but I don't. Instead, I shrug my shoulders and say, "You're as daft as each other."

Gareth lifts his stein. "Cheers, Star in the Hood."

Gareth.

I feel better now I've showered and changed at the hotel and can think about what happened yesterday. After our talk, and after Aleric and Gottwin got back from their time with their friend, we spent a great evening together, culminating with me falling asleep on the sofa, and Ralf falling asleep in his rocking chair because he wouldn't let Gretel and Gunther put him to bed. Gretal stoked up the fire with a massive log to smoulder through the night to keep us warm, but not before she'd firmly attached the fire guard to stop the flying sparks setting fire to the place. We'd both got totally bladdered on beers and Schnapps, and I was still half-pissed when I drove back to the hotel before lunch. But I'm OK now I'm showered and sobered up and listening to Christmas carols on the radio as I drive to Aleric's house to take him to the cathedral for his concert.

Aleric.

From the back of the drawer I retrieve the four dirty pairs of white underpants packed tightly in the plastic carrier bag, and sniff at them to make sure they're ripe enough for Herr Biermaier. They've certainly got enough shit and piss on them; I made sure of that. I tuck them under my other clothes in the holdall, and go down to the kitchen. Mum comes to me and checks I've washed in my ears and under my neck. She gets a flannel. "I could grow onions in those ears!"

I protest as she scrapes inside them, but she brushes my hands away. Then she gives me the full inspection. Thankfully, I pass. Gareth is grinning at me, and I ask, "What are you grinning at?"

He tries to hide his grin, and says, "Nothing."

When we're in the car and driving away, he's still grinning. I grin back at him. "What are you still grinning about?"

Tears are falling from his eyes as he answers. "Onions."

Now we're both laughing, and I lean across and thump his arm. When the hilarity dies down, I decide to tease him. "I crept downstairs to you last night."

"And...?"

"I kissed you."

"And...?"

"I thought about unlocking your underpants."

Gareth smiles. "I wouldn't have been much use to you. Anyway, you're telling lies."

I grin. "You'll never know. You were too drunk to know anything. Mum couldn't stop giggling at you both, and you pair of drunken sods kept us all awake for ages after we'd gone to bed. Gottwin almost peed himself when you said you were going to buy the whole of Wieck and turn it into a gay place so Kurt could retire happily by the sea because you love him so much. I haven't heard dad laugh so much for a long time."

Gareth is giggling. "I didn't say that... did I? Could you hear us that clearly?"

"Of course we could. I was embarrassed when you said I was your Angel of Pie Jesu."

Gareth looks into my eyes. "I was only telling the truth."

"Maybe you were, but you don't have to tell the world."

Gareth sighs. "Sorry. I didn't say anything that would have got us in trouble, did I?"

I smile at him. "No, but it was pretty obvious that you love me."

"Why do you say that?"

"You never stopped talking about me, and Gottwin said he thought it was beautiful when you said you were having a painting done of me. I think he knows."

Gareth looks worried. "I can't remember saying that."

"It was very late. You were both drunk by then. How is the painting coming on?"

"It should be OK. I sent Raul the picture of you in your birthday suit, and when I spoke to him, he said it was just what he needed."

I giggle, and say, "You should have sent him one of my bum."

"Why?"

"Because you like my bum. Well... you do, don't you?"

"I like all of you."

"I know that, but you like my bum best. I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

"Because you kissed it last night."

"I did not!"

I grin at him. "Yes you did. I took my underpants down and made you kiss it bare. It was lovely."

Gareth stares at me. "You did not!"

I lick my tongue out at him, and give him a cheeky grin. "Yes you did!"

Gareth shakes his head. "And there was I thinking you were a perfect angel, when all the time, all you wanted me to do is to kiss your ass."

We're both still laughing when Gareth swings the car from the highway and parks it on a lay-by. Then he reaches across, pulls my head to him, and stares into my eyes. "The part I like best about you is what I'm looking into now." He kisses each of my eyes and gives me a small peck on the lips, strokes my hair, pushes me away, and without saying another word, drives off again.

His hand is on the gear lever. I put my own over it, and squeeze. "That was lovely."

He turns his hand upwards, and grasps mine. "I'll do it again on the way back."

I squeeze his hand. "I want more than that. Can we stop somewhere on the way back?"

Gareth stares at me. Then he nods, and for the rest of the drive to S********, my pinkler is hard thinking about what we can do.

Gareth.

I've thoroughly enjoyed the evening. The choir, dressed in dark blue cassocks and white surplices with white, frilled neck ruffs was much bigger than just the boys who performed at The Schiller Theatre, but from my anonymous seat right by the aisle, halfway back in the cathedral, I had eyes for only one: my Angel of Pie Jesu. He sang the Christmas carols beautifully, and he never took his eyes off me during the whole evening. And he never stopped smiling. When he's smiling, Aleric is truly, truly beautiful. His gorgeous eyes have a special sparkle to them, and his face becomes even more radiant. I shed no tears this time, and neither did Aleric. I could only sit, enchanted by him; mulling over the fact that this gorgeous creature loves me. The occasion was even more beautiful to me because of the religious ambience of the place, and because the simple people around me were mostly of the same stock that spawned my beautiful boy. I didn't feel like an intruder; more that of being privileged to be amongst them; a guest of one of the most ancient of peoples who are very much like my own Celtic ancestors: proud and non-subservient.

When we first arrived, Herr Biermaier seemed genuinely pleased to see me, because when Gretal rang him and told him that Aleric was having a lift to the cathedral and wouldn't need picking up or taking back, she hadn't mentioned that it was me doing the ferrying. As requested, we arrived an hour before the performance, and I had a short time to chat to him before he organised his choir. I gave him the same spiel I gave to Aleric's parents, and he accepted it without question. Then I told him that Kurt had asked me to get a present for Hansie before I went back to Berlin, but when I added with a wink that a fifty Euro note in his Christmas card would be a better idea, he laughed and agreed. He said he was taking Hansie home, and would explain it to his foster parents. When we were leaving, he brought Hansie to me, and the little boy - very moved by the large amount of money he got and the lovely words I'd written on Kurt's behalf in the Christmas Card - asked me to thank Kurt personally when I got back to Berlin, I said I would, and when Aleric and I were on our way out, I looked back and saw Herr Biermaier standing behind Hansie with his hands on his shoulders. They both looked very happy.

I'm playing the S******** Boys Choir music on low volume on the player, and my little boy is doing exactly what any normal little boy would do when he's tired: fallen asleep. He reclined the back of the passenger seat, pulled his knees up, and is now half-sitting/half-lying on it, facing me, with his eyes closed. Each time a street light illuminates the interior of the car, I steal a glance at him. Now his eyes are closed, I can see and admire his long eyelashes, and I'm longing to kiss them, but I know he's tired. Its -5 centigrade outside, but warm inside the car. Warm and cosy. That's why he's fallen asleep. I remember his comment: `Can we stop somewhere on the way back?' I'd agreed. In fact, I want to. I want to take him in my arms and kiss him and hug him and do again what we did in our special place just to show him that I'm over that now, but my needs come a very poor second to what tired little boys really need; to be tucked up safely in bed at this time of night, and that's where he's going.

It was snowing slightly when I picked him up. Now it's stopped, but there's still a light covering on the roads, and as we reach the Hahn house with the living room light on, the tyres scrunch on the frozen snow as I pull to a halt on the small drive in front of the house. I don't switch off the engine or the music when I get out, and I'm about to ring the doorbell when the front door opens and Gretel and Gunther are standing waiting for me. I smile at Gretel. "He's fast asleep. I don't want to wake him. What will I do with him?"

She grins. "Can you carry him up to his room?"

I nod, go back to the car, open the passenger door, and very gently manoeuvre Aleric into a position where I can lift him out and hold him in my arms. He stirs, but doesn't wake. I'm surprised how light he is. I take him into the house and follow Gunther up the stairs. He shows me to their bedroom and indicates which one of the two beds is Aleric's, and I gently lower him onto it, alongside Gottwin, who wakes and rubs his eyes when he sees what I'm doing. I whisper to him, "You can undress him."

He giggles, and whispers, "I will, but I'll tell him you did it in the morning."

I leave the bedroom and go back down the stairs, go to the car to get Aleric's holdall, and take it into the house. I wave to Ralf, who is in his rocking chair, and give Gretel a kiss on the cheek. "I won't stop. It was a wonderful concert. I'll see you tomorrow and tell you about it then. What time will be convenient?"

Gretel touches my shoulder. "Around eleven?"

"OK? Goodnight."

I get into my car and drive to the hotel. The bar is open, and I'm about to go and have a drink when I think what Aleric said to me: `You drink too much'. He's right; I do, and this is the night before Heiligabend (Christmas Eve), and I'll wake up in the morning knowing I'm going to be spending the day with the boy I love. So I get my door key and go to my room instead.

My thoughts before I fall asleep are of the smell of Aleric's room; a nice boyish smell; the beautiful Gottwin who could have been my Aleric until I looked into his sleepy eyes; the two beds; the cosiness of it, and also of Aleric asleep in my car. He wasn't an Angel of Pie Jesu; he was a normal little boy who felt safe and warm in my company. I have the power to keep him that way. I also have the power to make his family more complete. But I will get my free cod.

To be continued...

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