Date: Mon, 22 Feb 2010 19:41:29 -0500 From: Jeffrey Fletcher Subject: Peter Broad's Story submission This is a story that involves a little sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere. This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental. The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author. My thanks to Brian who has read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault. Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. but please, after 8th May 2010 I am away until then. I aim to reply to all messages eventually. If you wish to be added to or removed from a chapter post notification list, please send an email with your request to jeffyrks@gmail.com Peter Broad's Story 23. The Inquisition The Inquisition was held on his first evening home. His mother had driven up to collect him in the morning. They had stopped for a pub lunch on the way back. There was no mention of Ben during the whole of the journey, just enquiries about work, hockey, and what was he going to do in the summer vacation. He thought that his mother's failure to ask anything about Ben was ominous. The Broad household had their main meal at 6.45. This meant that most of the evening was free for other activities. Andrew, Peter's brother, disappeared very quickly after the meal. When it was suggested that coffee was taken in the lounge, Peter knew that it was all a set up job, and an interrogation was about to begin. His father opened the enquiry, "Peter, tell us how you came to meet Benjamin Menzies." Peter told them, in greater detail than in his letter, how he came to bump into Ben. "How did you know it was Benjamin?" "He hasn't changed a great deal. He still has that shock of hair that falls over his eyes, and the same friendly grin." "If I remember, he got a scholarship to Cambridge, did he take it up?" asked his father. Peter again filled in the details of Ben's academic success, an M.A. at Cambridge, double first; D.Phil. at Oxford, and B.Lit. from some University in the States. "He invited you round for a meal?" "Yes." "Where does he live?" "In Beeston, which is very close to the University." "Has he got his own house?" "Yes, a small two bedroom terrace house." "Does he live there alone?" "No." "Who does he live with, then?" "With a chap called Clive." Peter's parents looked at each other. "Is this man Clive at the University too?" "No, he is a nursing officer at Mapperley Hospital. It is a psychiatric hospital." "Is this a sexual relationship?" "Yes, I think so." "You think so! Why do you think so?" Peter was beginning to feel embarrassed. "There is a double bed in the front bedroom, and a single bed in the other bedroom that looks as though it has not been slept in for some time." "How do you know all that? Did Ben take you upstairs to his bedroom?" Again his parents looked at each other. "No. I had to go to the loo while I was there, and the only loo in the place is in the bathroom, upstairs. The doors of both bedrooms were wide open. I couldn't help seeing in. The spare bedroom looks as though it doubles up as a study for Ben. There are masses of books, a desk and computer there. In any case, I feel that this is an interrogation." "We are only concerned for you," said Peter's mother. "Your father and I are very worried about you. Ben is a known homosexual. You have told us he is living with this man. Living in sin, sin of the most revolting kind." "Have you met this Clive?" asked his father. "Yes." "What is he like?" "He is something like 6ft 6in. He looks down on me. He is broad with it." After a quick thought that he might as well be as truthful as possible, and to test their reaction, he added, "He is of West Indian extraction. Very black." His parents again looked at each other. Peter saw a quick look of added horror on his mother's face. No words were said on that line, on this they were, at least outwardly, politically correct. "How many times have you met Ben since the occasion that you bumped into him?" Peter counted quickly in his mind. He knew that if his father continued questioning in detail, and he tried to cover up, that he would be running a risk of being discovered to be concealing the full truth. "About half a dozen times." "Half a dozen times! As many as that? You seem to be seeing a lot of Benjamin." "I must protest at this cross examination. I like Ben. I liked him when I was a boy. I like him now as a man. He and Clive have shown me friendship and offered me hospitality. Was I to say 'no', when he asked me round for a meal? Let me assure you. Nothing untoward has taken place on any occasion that I have been with either of them. I am as much a virgin, if I can use that expression, as I was the day I was born." As he said it, he wondered what his parents would have thought of the hugs that both Clive and Ben had given him. Then he remembered the very definite kiss from Clive in the car. His mother replied. "Peter, you must understand your father and I have a concern for your welfare. We are worried about you. I have been especially praying for your safety, ever since we heard that you had been with Benjamin at Mrs Menzies' funeral. Surely, you can see it from our point of view?" His father resumed the questioning. "Two things from what you have just said. First, you said they had offered you hospitality. How many times have you had a meal with them?" "Four." "How come so many?" "The first, I told you about, late last term, after I had bumped into Ben. Another time was after coming down here to Mrs Menzies' funeral. The last time was at the end of term." "Why did you not tell us about the first time when you were home for Christmas?" "I knew that the subject of Ben was delicate. When I was a child, you shut me up whenever I tried to find out what had happened to him. His name has never been mentioned in my hearing in this house since the day he left. We talk about all the others in that family, but never Ben." "I don't think that is a sufficient reason for you not saying anything at Christmas. But you have mentioned three meals at Benjamin's, what about the other time?" "Another would have been when I heard that Ben's mother had died. I went round to tell him, and ended up staying for a meal. And there was another time a couple of weeks into the term." "You also spoke of being with 'either of them'. Have you ever been alone with Clive?" "Yes. When Ben has gone to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen to get something to do with the meal." "Don't be flippant, Peter," said his father angrily. "You know what I mean. Have you ever been alone with this man Clive, either in the house, or elsewhere?" "I might have been. Yes, he ran me back to Hall in his car. And yes, once into town." "Has he ever made any physical approach to you?" "No!" Peter wondered if this constituted the first lie. It all depended how you saw the various hugs, and the kiss in the car. "I must protest at this inquisition. It seems as though you want to find the worse in me. What I have told you about having had no sexual contact with Ben, or Clive, or any other man; or with Janet or any other girl, for that matter is true." He was tempted to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that if he did that, he would still have the rest of the vac to negotiate, and it would increase any suspicions that his parents had, whether correctly or incorrectly. Peter's mother again intervened. "Peter dear. What Benjamin and his friend, Clive get up to is seriously wrong. Such activity is strongly and clearly condemned in the Bible. You must know that. It seems to me, and to all other decent people, so unnatural." "It all depends on what you mean by unnatural. What is natural for one person can seem unnatural for another. Or what is unnatural in one culture seems completely natural in another. For us to eat dog is unnatural, and the thought quite revolting; but for the Chinese it is completely natural. What Ben and Clive get up to in the privacy of their own house, is natural for them. I think for them to have sex with a woman would feel unnatural. And I have no idea exactly what they do, they have never told me, and I would not dream of asking. Sex between men was completely natural to the ancient Greeks, you only have to read your Plato. To some people today it is natural, but to people like you, and yes, to many others it is completely unnatural." "But Peter, Plato was a heathen Greek. He lived before the light of the Gospel had come into the world. In a way he did not know any better. But for Benjamin it is very different. He was brought up in a God fearing, Christian home. He was confirmed. He knew right from wrong, yet I gather he had been having an affair with that ghastly Tooley boy. I shudder within whenever I see him. How he can continue to live here among decent folks, I don't know. But to get back to Benjamin. He is living in open flagrant sin. Does he go to church now?" "No." "There you are. I gather that there are organisations in the church to help homosexuals to break with their homosexuality. To be cured. The vicar mentioned them in a sermon the other Sunday. Benjamin should seek help. There would be forgiveness and help for him." "Mother, Ben feels rejected by the Church. He says that his sexual orientation and his religion were on a head on collision course. The irresistible force meeting the immovable object. He knew he couldn't change his sexuality, so he had to change his religion. He gave it up." "I find it very sad, Peter," said his father, "that you can say that so easily. To me, that shows how much you have been influenced by Benjamin and his friend. You seem to see their conduct as natural. I am horrified that you should do so. Where are your Biblical principles? Where is the holding to the truth as you have been taught? Do you still go to church? Do you still go to the Christian Union?" "Yes, Dad, I go to church every Sunday." "To a sound church?" "Yes. To St Nick's with the other members of the C.U." "I am glad, at least, to hear that. Surely you must see that what Benjamin and his friend do is totally incompatible with your religious beliefs?" "I see it from where I am, and what has happened. I did not seek Ben out. I did not know that he was on the staff at Nottingham. We met completely by chance. I think I could easily have gone through the whole of my student years without knowing that he was there. But we did meet. He showed me friendship and kindness. I like Ben, I have always liked him. When I was small he never talked down to me, like so many adults did. He is still the same Ben. I have come to like Clive as well. He is a great guy, in more ways than one. I have accepted their hospitality. I enjoy their company. And I remember that Jesus met and spoke to many people regarded as outcasts and untouchables by the respectable religious of his time." "Peter, how can you use the Lord's name in the same context as homosexual practices." "Because Dad, it is true. Jesus was known as the friend of publicans and sinners, the social and moral outcasts of his day. He mixed and spoke to prostitutes. Don't you think he would be the friend of gays today?" "Peter, I am finding that this conversation is getting quite distasteful and wrong. But going along with you for the moment. Do you see what Benjamin and his friend do as wrong, and their house a place of disgusting sin?" Peter paused for a moment before answering. "I don't know." His parents looked at each other with shock. Thoughtfully, weighing his words carefully he said, "When I met Ben again, I had already found out something of what had happened, twelve years before. Yes, as the result of my home, church background and teaching, I believed that what Ben and Nigel Tooley had got up to was wrong. Then I heard Ben's account. He did not deny anything. But I believe that what his parents, and his father in particular, did to him was wrong. I think throwing your son out of the family, and not even allowing his name to be mentioned...I believe it was bigoted intolerance. I don't think Jesus would have done it. I believe it was sinful." "The Bible says, 'You shall not lie with a man as with a woman,' it is an abomination, you..." "Yes, I know what the Bible says, but let me finish what I was saying. Please?" He paused before continuing. "But when I saw Ben and Clive together I was not so sure. I saw two people who cared for each other, meant everything to each other. Yes, I will say it. They love each other. As I walked back to Hall that night I found it very hard to condemn their relationship as sinful. There was something good and beautiful about it. I know that you find that hard to believe. Let me ask both of you a question. Have either of you ever talked to a gay person about what it means to be gay? What is it like to be gay?" "No, I don't think we have, but.." "I think you should talk at length to someone like Ben, or Clive. I think then you might begin to understand." "You obviously understand," said his father. "I think you have been brainwashed by your meetings with Benjamin and his friend. I would like to ask another question. Have you met any of their gay friends?" Peter realised that to answer truthfully would be to open up his defenses. He decided that the truth was best. He took a deep breath before answering. "Yes." Very quietly his father asked, "Can you tell us how that came about?" "I was asked round to their house at the end of the term, and there were a number of their gay friends there." "Were there any girls there?" "No." "So it was all men. Gay men?" "I think the majority were gay." "Did you know that it was a gay get together?" "I thought it possible." "You thought it possible," said his father angrily. "You thought it possible. Yet thinking it possible you went to a meeting of gay men. Where Peter are your Biblical principles? We are told to flee from evil, not to consort with it. I would like you to promise us not to accept any more invitations round to Benjamin's. Will you do that?" Peter waited several moments before replying. Very quietly he said, "No. I cannot promise that. I like Ben. I think of Ben as a friend. At the moment he is a friend in need. His mother has recently died. Fortunately he was able to spend a couple of hours with her just before she died. There was some reconciliation between the two of them. I know something of what was said, but I regard what Ben has told me as confidential. Especially as you are on the same side as Mr Menzies. I was glad to be able to support him by coming with him to the funeral. Obviously Clive, who was the obvious person to come with him, could not come, just because he was black. He would have stood out anywhere within five miles of Whitgest. I think at eighteen I am old enough to choose my own friends. I cannot just walk away and ignore Ben. I find it hard to say that to you, but I would not be able to bear with myself if I just stopped all contact with Ben now." "I am sorry too, Peter. All that you have just said fills your mother and me with fear. We have prayed much for you. Apparently with little avail. We shall pray even more. I fear Benjamin and his friends are leading you astray. I don't think you are one of them at the moment. I fear their influence. We don't want a gay son. We don't want to be put in the position Mr Menzies was put in by Benjamin. Your mother thinks that it broke Mrs Menzies' heart, and contributed to her death. As you will not make that promise, I don't think there is anything more for us to say on this subject." "If anything broke Mrs Menzies' heart it was having to obey that tyrant of a husband. Then she had to keep from him the very slight contact she had with her firstborn son. It was just one Christmas card a year!" The three of them sat in silence for several minutes. Eventually Peter rose. "Good night, Dad." As he said goodnight to his mother, he bent down to give her the usual kiss, and noticed the tears on her cheeks. He went upstairs to his room, and flung himself on the bed. After beating the pillow with his hands, he too wept. -0---0---0- 24. Whitgest Church The next day Peter had to go into Hitchin. He was trying to sort out a job for the long vacation. He had to travel there by bus, as both his father and mother were using their cars. As he sat in the bus for the thirty minute journey, he found his mind going over the conversation of the evening before. He thought that there were certain things that he could have put a lot better. He thought he had made his position clear on others. He considered his father's request that he not see Ben again. He thought he was right to refuse. But deep down there was an anger over the way the interrogation, as he found himself calling it, had gone. What would be the reaction, if there ever came a time when he had to 'come out' to his parents? Or their reaction if they found out some other way? If it ever came to that he was certain that Ben would, most definitely, be blamed for leading him astray. It had been arranged for Peter to have an interview with the manager of the Hermitage Hotel. This had been arranged by Peter's father. Both men were members of the same rotary club. The interview lasted about ten minutes, and Peter was offered a job, helping out in whatever department needed him, for the whole of July and August. Peter went away delighted that he had secured a job, which would provide some necessary money during the summer. Also it would enable him to have a complete break, and possibly to get away, at the beginning of September. Peter spent the rest of the morning doing some necessary shopping, and looking round a couple of book shops. Then he had a sandwich and coffee in a snack bar, before going to catch the early afternoon bus back to Whitgest. As the bus set off, he felt that he did not want to go straight home. He felt he needed to do some more thinking. He did not want to face any supplementary questioning from his mother. The later he arrived back the more likely Andrew would be home. He thought his parents unlikely to raise the subject of Ben with him around. He got off the bus some two miles from Whitgest. Though the morning had been overcast, the clouds were beginning to break, and the afternoon was looking promising. Peter knew the countryside round Whitgest like the back of his hand. He worked out a four mile walk along tracks that should not be too muddy at that time of the year. He walked along churning over in his mind the two big issues of the day. The interrogation and the question of his own sexual orientation. He recollected at length the party at Ben's at the end of term. Yes, he had felt at home, and comfortable there. He thought about Anton, he hoped they would meet again. He then thought about his friendship with Raymond. He liked Raymond, but there was a 'but' beginning to form in his mind. He could not put into words the reservations that were beginning to form in his mind. He thought about his first two terms at University, and his relationships within the economics department. Was he attracted to the girls or to the men? He liked some of the girls. He could be friends with a number of them. But when he started thinking of physical activity, and especially of sex, then the answer was 'no'. He was not attracted. When it came to men, especially to men he knew, like Raymond, the answer was 'yes'. He thought again about Anton. He would like to get to know him better. He had a definite physical and sexual attraction for him. When he asked himself the question, 'Peter Broad, are you gay?' the answer was no longer a definite denial. The answer was now, somewhere between 'may be' and 'probably'. Then he turned to the evening before, and again a strong sense of anger began to form. He was angry with his parents, he was angry with Mr Menzies. He did not know what he should do. Again he thought about people with whom he could talk it over. There was no one in Whitgest. He did not want to involve Ben, as Ben would feel responsible for landing Peter in the dispute with his parents. There was Raymond, he could talk it over with him, he would listen; but would he really understand? His way back to Whitgest passed the parish church. He decided to look in. He opened the lychgate, and entered the church yard. First, he made his way over to Dorothy Menzies grave. The flowers from the funeral were still there, now looking definitely the worse for wear. No headstone had yet been placed. He stood looking down at the grave. He wondered how Mr Menzies had disposed of Ben's flowers. He wandered over to the corner of the church yard, where there was a sort of compost heap of dead flowers from graves, and where the grass cuttings were put in summer. There he saw the remains of Ben's wreath. The card with the words lay nearby torn into small pieces. The anger surged up within him. Then he thought of Ben, of Ben's tears near this spot, his holding of Ben to comfort him, and the problems that act of solidarity had caused. Slowly he made his way into the church. As he entered the church the low afternoon sun shone in through the windows. The church seemed icy cold. There were no flowers, this church had no flowers in it during Holy Week. He tried to sit down to think, and perhaps to pray, but the turmoil within was too strong. He had to get up and wander round. Twice he went to leave the church, but each time as he neared the door he turned back, and sat down again. Slowly he became quieter within, and was able to remain seated. He began to pray. Not a formal prayer, not even a formed prayer. Just a cry for help. Help in dealing with his parents. Help over his own sexual confusion and uncertainty. There was no beginning or ending to his praying, it was a filtering consideration of all on his mind before God. As he sat there Ron's final words came into his mind. `Don't let your religion distort your sexuality, and don't let your sexuality destroy your faith.' Peter had always thought that his religion and his faith were more or less the same thing. Ron had obviously seen the words as having a different, and a significant difference of meaning, because he had chosen those deliberately and with care. What was the difference between the two? Or what was the difference that Ron saw between the two? Peter thought hard. He decided that his faith was the more personal, inner side of his being a Christian. What he really believed, his own relationship with God, with Christ, with the Holy Spirit. Was his religion the outward structure of his beliefs? Was his religion to do with the church, its services of worship, bishops and clergy, synods and Church Councils, dogma and decrees? His faith needed some outward structure, some outward system. If so, then his outward structure was the Church of England, the 39 Articles of Religion, Bishops and Clergy and the various synods of the church. He began to see vaguely how his religion could distort his sexuality, but could not see how his sexuality could destroy his faith. Peter knew from his early Sunday School days, his confirmation classes, from talks at the Christian Union at University, that though God answered prayer, he should not expect some blinding flash of help. There was even a part of himself that wondered if God heeded prayers about sex, especially gay sex, at all. Were his prayers on that score outside the pale? He pulled his jacket closer around him as the cold of the building began to eat into him. But as he sat there, the ancient church that was so much a part of his life and story, began to give him some sense of peace. He sat there in silence, he had said his say to God. He remained still, conscious of the shafts of light from the sun. Eventually he stood up, shivered from the cold and made his way towards the door. He went through the inner door, and reached out to grasp the heavy iron ring that turned the latch of the outer door. As he did so he seemed to hear a voice, "All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things will be well." He stopped, went back into church. There was no one there, all was still. He seemed to recognise the words, but he was fairly certain that they did not come from the Bible. Then he turned and left the church. -0---0---0- 25. Matthew Menzies It was in the middle of the following week, as Peter was walking along the main village street, that a car pulled up alongside him and the driver leaned across to speak to him. Peter initially thought that it was someone asking for directions. When he bent down to look into the car he saw that it was Matthew Menzies. "Hi, Peter. How's university life treating you?" "Fine, I am enjoying it. Trying not to work too hard." Matthew laughed. "I'm glad to have seen you. Sit in the car for a moment. There is something I want to ask you." Matthew opened the car door; and Peter, wondering what was going to happen now, got in. "I hope you don't mind me asking. But why is my old man so angry with you? Your name came up in conversation a couple of weeks ago, and it was obvious he was angry with you for some reason. He gave no clue as to why. I didn't dare ask, as I could see the signs of an impending explosion." "Haven't you any idea why he is angry with me?" "No. None." "I'm sure that he is angry with me because Ben and I were at your mother's funeral." "Ben? My brother Ben? At mother's funeral? Well! Well! Well! How come?" "I met Ben at the end of the autumn at the University. Last term my mother kept me posted about your mother going into hospital, and how she was. Then that she had died, and the details of the funeral. I just kept Ben informed. Then he said that he would like to be present at the funeral, so I said I would go with him." "So Ben was at mother's funeral! I didn't see either of you there. How did Dad know you were there? Looking back on it he was a bit strange on the Saturday evening after the funeral. Preoccupied. I just put it down to the strains of the previous few weeks." Peter then told Matthew the events of the day, and how the truth was revealed to Mr Menzies. Matthew then laughed. "Jolly good. I am glad Ben was there. I am glad he got one up on Dad. Wait until I tell my wife. She will appreciate someone getting one up on the 'family tyrant', as she calls my father." Peter decided to reveal some more. "Did you know that Ben visited your mother while she was in the hospital?" "No. Tell me more." Again Peter told that part for the story. Matthew laughed, and then was serious. "Oh, I'm so glad. That's great news. Mum had time with Ben before the end! They talked together! She must have died in some peace over that, at least. Linda, my wife, spoke to Mum at Christmas, when we all knew that she was terminally ill, and as a family it was all in the open. She asked Mum if she wanted to make contact with Ben before she died. Mum's answer seemed strange at the time. 'Don't worry about that, dear; I am sure it will all work out.' Linda will be so happy to know all that. And she will rejoice that Mum disobeyed Dad at the end. Now tell me about my brother Ben. What is he up to?" Peter told Matthew most of Ben's news - academic, and factual about where he lived etc. He said nothing about Clive, and issues of sexuality. Fortunately, Matthew did not ask any questions on that score. "So Ben lives in Nottingham. We are living in Leicester, just down the road from Nottingham. I could meet up with Ben. Can you give me his address and telephone number? "Yes. But I have not got it on me. Give me your phone number and I will phone you with them." That evening Peter was alone in the house, and he was able to ring Ben. On the following Tuesday there was a letter for Peter. The tiny neat handwriting on the envelope showed Peter immediately who it was from. My dear Peter, Once again you have set a series of events in train. Things have moved fast, since your telephone call last Tuesday evening. Matt phoned on the Wednesday evening, and we arranged to have lunch together at a pub in Willoughby-on-the-Wolds, which is about half way between Nottingham and Leicester. Fortunately it is a quiet pub, and we were more or less the only customers. We talked and talked, and kept ordering fresh cups of coffee. He told me about himself, his marriage to Linda, and the difficulty she has with my Dad. They have two young children, one of each, Thomas and Charlotte. I told Matthew all about myself including about Clive. He then invited Clive and myself to come and spend the day with his family in Leicester on Sunday. Which we did. I don't know what explaining went on beforehand, but the children were most accepting. Clive was a great hit with the kids. I have never seen him with young children before. He played with them almost the whole of the time we were there. Auntie Clive I call him now. He pretends to be annoyed, but really enjoys it. Once again, my friend, I am in your debt. You enabled me to see Mum before she died. You came with me to her funeral. Now you have brought about a reconciliation with Matthew. [He is going to try to do the same with Luke] How can I thank you enough? Be in touch as soon as you get back to Nottingham. Auntie Clive's cooking is as good as ever. Being an aunt has not spoilt that skill. Much love, Ben. -0---0---0- 26. The Start of the Summer Term It was with mixed feelings that Peter began the third term. He was relieved to be leaving the rather tense atmosphere at home that had followed on from the talking on the first evening of the vacation. Though nothing further had been said, he knew that his parents were concerned about him, and that they feared the corrupting influence of Ben and Clive. He was looking forward to the personal freedom that came with University life. He was looking forward to seeing Ben and Clive. He looked forward to his talks with Raymond. He found himself hoping strongly that he would meet Anton again. But he was also fearful of what might come from the taunts of George Riley. On top of all that, there were exams towards the end of the term. His mother filled her maternal duties by coming back with him in the car so that all his luggage, which seemed to get more each term, could be transported easily. This term there was cricket and tennis gear to be included. Their journey involved a pub lunch on the way, before Mrs Broad delivered him back to Rutland Hall. Her parting words showed where her concerns lay. "Have a good term, Peter. Work hard and play hard. Remember that your father and I will be praying for your safety from all dangers, moral as well as physical and intellectual." Peter waved goodbye, and turned to go back into the Hall. He looked to see whether there were any messages for him. There was one envelope that was written in the concise hand that he was beginning to know well. It was an invitation round for supper the following evening. "To catch up on all the news." Ben opened the door and welcomed Peter. They gave each other a brief hug. Clive came out of the kitchen wearing a small frilly apron that looked ridiculous on his huge frame. "Good to see you, Auntie Clive," said Peter, with a broad grin. "I'll give you Auntie Clive," and before he knew where he was he had been whipped off his feet and was being held like a small child in Clive's arms. "I'll treat you like an Aunt with her nephew." Before he knew what was happening his face was being covered in smacking and deliberately very wet kisses. The more Peter struggled, the more the kisses came. So Peter changed tactics, and began to kiss in return. Peter found he liked it, and it became serious. Ben, who had been killing himself with laughter, stopped laughing. "Hi, hold on a minute. I'm beginning to feel jealous." "You could always join in," said Clive as he put Peter back on his two feet. Though the three of them continued to laugh, both Peter and Clive knew that something significant had happened. The meal was another of Clive's creations. After the meal they all joined in the washing up. At one point Ben left to go to the loo. Clive turned to Peter. "Peter, I am glad we have got a moment alone together. There are two things I want to say to you. First, you need to find a man. Don't repress your sexuality and become a bitter hard man, like so many closeted Christians. Secondly, and I hope you will not take this amiss. There are two sorts of gay partnerships, exclusive and inclusive. In exclusive partnerships the couple are monogamously faithful to each other. Inclusive relationships allow a certain amount of playing the field. Ben and I are exclusive in our relationship. I hope you don't mind me saying that, but I feel I needed to after what happened when you arrived." "Clive dear, I have never thought of your relationship with Ben as anything other than exclusive. I enjoyed our larking around earlier. I think I experienced for the first time something of the delight in kissing another man. But for me it was essentially larking around. I hope I can continue to have an open and good relationship with both of you, perhaps with some larking around. The very last thing I would want to do is make any difficulty between you both. You are both far too important to me." At that moment Ben returned. "You two look as though you have been discussing something serious." "Yes, we have," said Clive, "and I'll tell you all about it later." The rest of the evening was spent catching up on both the Whitgest news, and details of Ben and Clive's visit to Matthew in Leicester. Ben was especially concerned over the trouble his mother's funeral had caused for Peter. -0---0---0- 27. Discussions and Taunts On the first Sunday afternoon of term Peter and Raymond went for a walk in Wollaton Park. It was the first time that they had gone across the Derby Road into the park. They were surprised at the open space they found. Some of it was taken up with a golf course, there was a lake, a wooded area, a lot of open grassland, and at the centre of the park on a hill, Wollaton Hall, an Elizabethan stately home. They wandered up a drive, and round the gardens by the house. As they walked, they talked. Peter described at length the questioning he had received from his parents on the first evening of the holidays. He also described something of his experience in Whitgest church, and the words that had come to him, `All will be well. All will be well. All manner of things will be well.' "I know where that comes from," said Raymond. It is a quotation from Mother Julian of Norwich, a mediaeval mystic." "Tell me more." Raymond was not able to tell him much more. He knew the words because they were on a tapestry in a bedroom at his grandmother's. They then discussed homophobia amongst church people. Yet there were supportive and non judgmental clergymen like Ron, the chaplain at Mapperley Hospital. They wandered back, and had a cup of tea in Raymond's room. Peter then left as he wanted to do some more work. Raymond said that he was going into town for a drink that evening. When he got back to Rutland, who should he meet but George Riley. George was all friendliness. "Hi there! I hope you had a good vac. Did you do anything interesting?" "No, not really." "I had a weekend in London, but otherwise it was trying to get some work done, and to catch up on things. Rugger took rather too much of my time last term. Though I must not let the lads hear me say that. By the way they are getting up a petition." "What for?" "It is a petition to you actually. All the first fifteen want you to come along one evening and give them all blow jobs." Peter exploded, "What a revolting idea! Can't you think of anything better to do than bait me?" George roared with laughter, and went off muttering trying to imitate Peter, "What a revolting idea!" -0---0---0- 28. A Significant Dream? Peter was walking in Wollaton Park. The sun has just set, but there is still sufficient light to see the path ahead. He walks down from the Hall, towards the lake. He enters the trees. There is still sufficient light by which to see. About twenty yards ahead of him, George Riley steps out on the path, and walks on. Peter continues to follow George, intrigued as to where he was going at this time of the evening. They walk on. It seems that George is totally unaware that he is being followed. Eventually they come to the edge of the lake. There is a small beach. There is a bit more light here. Peter stays behind in the shadows watching. George walks down to the lakeside. He stands for a moment looking at the water. Then he pulls off his tee shirt. Peter can see his hairy chest. Then he takes off his shoes and pulls off his socks. Then he lowers his trousers and pulls off his pants. He stands there, his hands rubbing his chest, and then his stomach, and then he starts playing with his cock. Peter can see that George is well endowed. George wades into the water and plunges in. His swims a few yards out, and then calls to Peter to join him. Peter walks down to the edge of the lake, and removes his clothes, and then he too plunges into the water. He swims out into the lake, where George joins him. They tread water, both of them laughing. Then George comes closer to Peter, and puts his arms round his neck. He gives Peter a kiss. Peter responds. He feels George's hands reaching down over his body, they linger over his nipples, and then fondle his bum. Peter feels a mounting erection. Then George's hands start fondling his cock and balls. Peter is conscious of both his own hard on, and also George's pressing into his thigh. As George's hands continue their play, Peter feels that he will soon come. At that moment Peter woke with a start. He felt hot, and immediately conscious of his hard cock, and that he was almost there. He twisted and turned in bed, as the realisation of the dream and his present state came fully aware to him. He felt disgust at the dream, - with George of all people - and he felt the need to relieve himself. He soon came, shooting profusely into the handkerchief that he always kept under his pillow to answer such needs. The dream stayed with him for the rest of the day. The disgust; and the question, why with George? It was several days before the dream began to fade, but it remained in his memory, surfacing whenever dreams were mentioned, and more embarrassingly whenever he saw George. -0---0---0- 29. A Visit to the Rutland Arms It was about three weeks into term, when after a day of hard work revising for the exams, Peter had had enough. He decided that he would go into town. He would take the plunge, and go to the Rutland Arms. His excuse was that he hoped to see Anton, and he knew that he might meet him there. He caught the bus into town. He began to realise that he was rather nervous about going into a gay pub for the first time. What would it be like? Would he be accosted? Would he feel embarrassed? Would it be obvious that it was his first time? It would have been easier if he was with someone. He knew that Raymond frequented this pub, so he could have come with him. For some reason he did not want to be with Raymond. He pushed open the door and found himself in a pub that was much like any other. There were even two or three women present, so it was not an exclusively gay pub. Then he remembered being told that there was a further, inner bar, which was exclusively gay. He ordered a pint of bitter, and drank some of it. He looked round, rather hoping that he would see Anton. He then thought that if Anton was there, he would be in the inner bar. Peter made his way through. He found himself in a largish room, with a wall extending from one wall towards the middle of the room, so in effect almost dividing the room into two parts. There were some benches along the walls, with tables and chairs in the middle of both parts of the inner bar. It was fairly full. Then a man, in his late thirties or early forties, moved up to make some more room on one of the benches. Peter walked over and sat down. He looked around, but there was no sign of Anton. The man turned to Peter, "Hi, good to see you. My name's Jim." "Mine's Peter." "Do you come here often?" "This is my first time." "Student, are you?" "Yes, does it show that much?" "In a University town, you soon learn how to recognise them. Where is your home?" "I'm from down south. From Hertfordshire. Little village near Hitchin." "I don't know that part of the world. I'm Nottingham born and bred. Lived in Lenton all my life. Even my work keeps me in Nottingham. The only times I've left it have been on holiday; and that is usually to places in the sun, where there is a bit of gay night life." Peter glanced round. There were several men sitting very close to each other. There were one or two hands high up on their neighbour's thighs. There was one couple in a corner engaged in a long deep kiss. "There is only a little bit of action in here, as you can see," said Jim. "Most people meet in here, and then go off elsewhere if they want anything further. Are there many gays at the University?" "Yes, quite a number, both staff and students. There's a gay group. But I'm not a member. I have a close friend who's a member. There's also quite a bit of homophobia also, especially in some of the more sporting circles." "How is this expressed?" "I get baited quite a lot by some of the men in the rugby team. I was told they were getting up a petition to me, asking for a blow job for all the team members one evening. I don't think they are; but the trouble is that other people hear these remarks, and as I'm not out it is difficult, - as well as embarrassing." "But what a wonderful idea! Fifteen hulking great fit young men. It is something to fantasise on. But I understand your difficulty. I'm not out at work. I think life would be very difficult for me if it were known that I was gay. Every time I come into a place like this I hope I am not seen by one of my work mates." "Are you out to many people?" "I am out to my parents, and brother." "How did they take it?" "My mother realised quite early on. It was no surprise to her when I told her. My Dad found it harder to accept. My brother is quite anti. He is married with a couple of kids. I think he is afraid of me with the kids. A lot of homophobia is based on that misunderstanding. I am not attracted to kids in any way." "Things do differ don't they." Peter then told Jim of Ben's experience of being out to his brother Matthew, and how he was so readily accepted. He did not use any names, and gave no clue as to the context in which he knew Ben. "Are you in a relationship?" "No. But I'm here hoping to meet up with a friend." "Oh," said Jim, not avoiding a disappointed note creeping into his voice. "Have you ever been in a relationship?" "No. Variety is the spice of life for me. I don't think I could settle down with a steady relationship." Peter had now finished his drink. He decided he did not want to get further involved with Jim. "My friend is not here. I must be going now." He stood up. "Thanks for the chat. Perhaps see you again some time." Peter decided to walk back to the University, to give himself some exercise, and to think. He thought over the encounter with Jim. What surprised him was how just being there meant that he was accepted as gay. But what surprised him even more, was the readiness by which he gave the answers that any fully out gay man would have done. He realised afresh how much he wanted to meet Anton again.