Date: Mon, 8 Mar 2010 17:25:24 -0500 From: Jeffrey Fletcher Subject: Peter Broad's Story 6 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 34. The Problems of George and Guilt Peter got off the bus and began to walk across the University campus towards Rutland Hall. Everywhere seemed clean and fresh after the storm. Peter felt good. It was great to be alive. He thought back over the events of the night. He felt that an essential part of his being had fallen into place. He felt more complete, more of a man. As he walked into Rutland Hall he met George Riley coming in the opposite direction. Several other students were around, and heard George's comments. "What have we here? The return of the hall nancy boy after a night on the town? Celebrating the end of term with a final fling?" Then in a stage whisper, "Were you more sucked than sucking, or more fucking than fucked? Or was it a glorious orgy of the lot?" With a guffaw of laughter he made his way into the refectory for breakfast. Again Peter was faced with the dilemma of how to reply, but this time he knew there was truth in the taunting allegations. The next couple of hours were a hectic round of packing. He was almost ready when his mother appeared. He made her a coffee, and she sat in his room drinking it, while he loaded up the car. Soon they were on their way. "Well, how did you get on in the exams?" Peter told her. "Have you managed to play any cricket?" Peter told her about it, especially the good stand with George. "Have you managed to get along to any of the Christian meetings?" "A few. I have put all my energies into work for the exams, and just allowed myself one game of cricket a week." "Do you get to church on a Sunday?" "Yes. I've been along to St Nick's." "Have you seen much of Benjamin Menzies?" "Just twice this term." Peter gained the impression that his mother was well pleased with all his answers, especially to the last one, as he had seen Ben on considerably fewer occasions than the term before. They stopped at the usual pub for lunch, though this time they were able to sit outside in the warm sunshine. They arrived back in Whitgest in the middle of the afternoon. Peter unloaded the car, and then they sat in the kitchen enjoying a cup of tea. It was when he entered his bedroom that the guilt struck him. It was like walking into a brick wall. He realised with stunning horror that he would never be able to look his parents in the face and say that he was a sexual virgin. Never again would he be able to say that. He had had sex. It had been sex outside the permitted boundary of the marriage bed. Sex with a girl would have been wrong, but it would have been understood. Sex with a girl was, after all, in the eyes of the majority of people natural. But he had had sex with a man. There were never any circumstances in which that was permitted. It was unnatural. It was wrong. It was sinful. The blackness of guilt swirled around him. He sat on the edge of the bed. He buried his head in his hands. Verses from both Old and New Testaments ran through his mind. If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death, their blood is upon them. It was an abomination, the worst and most serious sort of sin. God gave them up; men committing shameless acts with men and received in their own persons the due penalty of their error. Because of what he had done, God would give him up. Do not be deceived, ..sodomites....none of these will inherit the kingdom of God. He had placed his own eternal destiny in jeopardy. He tried to pull himself together. He had told Anton that he was beginning to see a way forward in reconciling his beliefs with his sexuality. But when he tried to work at this now, it all seemed to fail. It was like trying to climb up out of a morass, what looked a good hand hold crumpled at his touch; what appeared to be a good foot hold slipped down as soon as any weight was placed on it. He was back where he had been, with the dark cloud of divine condemnation hanging over him. All things were decidedly not well. He tried to call to mind some the things that Ron had said to him just after Christmas. He knew what he had said had been helpful and constructive then, but now he found it difficult to remember anything. There was just the blackness of an all-enveloping guilt. He managed to stir himself to bring all his luggage up from the hall to his room, and then again he sat on the edge of the bed head in hands. He heard the sounds of activity below. Andrew arrived home from work. The smell of cooking made him face up to the fact that he would soon have to meet his family. He went to the bathroom and washed himself, and then made his way down stairs. Andrew seemed almost glad to see him. He asked about girls at the university, and whether Peter had yet found a girl friend. His answer was that he had been working too hard. Then Andrew asked about cricket and they were soon sharing their cricketing experiences. His father unwittingly helped by saying that Peter looked very tired, and that he ought to get a few early nights in before starting his job on Monday. The meal went off very well. It was not followed by an arranged inquisition as there had been at Easter. Peter thought that his mother had probably told his father that he had only seen Ben a couple of times, and that they were reasonably happy with that. As soon as he decently could he disappeared upstairs to his room. It was always his custom to pray before going to sleep. Often his prayers were short, frequently perfunctory. That night his prayers were earnest. He prayed for forgiveness, but when he rose from his knees it was with no sense that his prayers had been heard. There was no feeling of assurance that his sins had been forgiven. -0---0---0- 35. A Sermon Peter found the remaining three days of the week difficult. He said he was exhausted, after all the work and the festivities of the end of term. He spent as much time as he decently could in his room, or going for a lengthy walk each day. He tried to do some light reading, but found it difficult to concentrate. He even declined an invitation to play cricket on the Saturday afternoon. He was due to begin work at the Hermitage Hotel on the Monday morning. This meant that he was able to go to church with the rest of the family on the Sunday morning. He went with heavy heart, oppressed by a sense of guilt and shame. Yet much to his surprise the service that morning was to cast light into his darkness. The vicar, Bruce Perkins, was away that Sunday. The man taking the service was an older man, Canon Ford, from a neighbouring parish. Peter expected the sermon to be the usual mixture of the grace of the Gospel if you were not a Christian, and the fullness of the law if you were a Christian. When the preacher went up and gave out his text he expected the sermon to concentrate on the goodness and love of God, and His offer of salvation. The text was from Matthew's Gospel, words of Jesus where He is talking of what people said of Him. "Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners." The sermon was on Jesus as the friend of sinners. Several sentences in particular spoke to Peter. Jesus was a friend of the outcasts, the rejects of society.... He spoke to men and women who no respectable Jew would be seen talking to..... He spent time talking to the Samaritan woman, who was not just a despised foreigner, but also a woman with a dubious history...... He spoke kindly to the woman taken in adultery..... He told a story where the villains were respectable religious Jews, and the hero a despised Samaritan..... He allowed a prostitute to wash his feet with her tears, and wipe his feet with her hair. That was really outrageous conduct, especially from someone who claimed to be religious, and a spokesman for God..... Then he said some things that really made Peter think. The opponents of Jesus were the religious establishment, the church of his time. There is always a danger when religious people think what they believe is 100% true, and the conduct they call for is 100% right. They go on to think that this gives them a 100% authority to take action against anyone who disagrees with them, or who do not do what they believe they should do. That is why the religious leaders of Jesus' day got him crucified. They did so because they disagreed with what he said and what he did. He did not measure up to their 100% standards. So it has been through the history of the Christian church, when there are church leaders with 100% certainties, and have the power, they all too often end up persecutors. The whole history of the church is littered with examples. It is really amazing that the real Jesus, the Jesus of the Gospels, the loving Jesus, the Jesus friend of sinners, has in any way survived until today. Peter thought it a courageous sermon to be preached in that church. The vicar Bruce Perkins was, in Peter's opinion, a man with 100% certainty in all matters of faith and conduct. He was feeling himself to be an outcast, a sinner. Perhaps Jesus could still be a friend to him. He did not dare think anything more than that. After the church service there were refreshments, served by the usual rota of church ladies. Most people stayed. Several people welcomed Peter back, and some asked how the term had gone. All were satisfied with a fairly bland answer. He wondered what they would think, and do, if they had known what he had done on the last night of term. Then Carol Spencer came up to speak with him. Carol and James Spencer were a couple in their late thirties. They had moved into the village fifteen or sixteen years before. They were very active in the life of the church, serving on the Parochial Church Council. They had also run for several years the youth club in the village hall. It was not a church youth club, but their Christian commitment was well known, and influenced the club. Several young people had come into the life of the church, and been confirmed because of their work. Bruce Perkins had reservations about some of the things that the youth club got up to, but he was always ready to prepare a youngster from the Youth Club who came forward for confirmation and church membership. Peter had in his time been a member of the youth club before going up to University. Carol was a gushy sort of person, and though Peter was used to her ways, in his more thoughtful moments he was surprised that she got anywhere with the young people of the village. "Peter darling, how wonderful to see you. Did you have a good term? How did the exams go?" "It was a good term, Carol. And even my tutor was pleased with my exam results." "Good. I'm so glad to hear it. Wasn't that a wonderful sermon?" "Yes, I thought so too." "We could do with more sermons like that here," said Carol with a slightly softer voice. Peter was surprised, as he had always seen Carol and her husband James as totally behind the vicar and the church set up. "What in particular did you like about it, Carol?" "I think he got it right. Often the main hindrance to the real work of Jesus, are those who profess the most. We always need to remember his ministry to the outcasts and rejects. And we must not neatly place ourselves in that category. I know we are all sinners, but we churchy people all too often see ourselves as not such bad sinners as compared with a whole multitude of other people. Jesus was harshest in the words that he spoke about the respectable sins. What we need to remember, as the dear Canon reminded us, is that we are the religious establishment. We are in much more spiritual danger because of our position than many of those we tend to look down on as sinners." Peter was surprised at this endorsement of Canon Ford's sermon from Carol Spencer. "Peter dear, I am so glad to have had this chance to speak to you. There is something that James and I would like to ask you about. It is nothing very serious, but we think you may be able to help us. I wonder if you could pop round for coffee one evening." "I'm sure I could. I'm going to be doing a vac job in Hitchin, and I know I'll be working many evenings. I start tomorrow." "Then give us a tinkle when you know when you will be free. Then we can arrange something." With a little wave, she moved off to speak to someone else. Peter scratched his head, wondering in what way he could be of any help to Carol and James Spencer. Sunday lunch was always an important event in the Broad household. It was the main meal of the week. When all three children had been living at home other meals were often staggered. But Sunday lunch was the one occasion when they were all present. Though Mary now lived in Hitchin, and Peter was at University, and Andrew was often out, Sunday lunch retained some of its importance. That day Mary too was there, and the whole family was together. Sunday lunch was always a roast meal, with all the necessary trimmings and additions. Peter decided to take the initiative. "What did you think of the sermon, Dad?" His father paused before replying. "It was not quite what we are used to getting from Bruce. I thought the Canon was rather hard on us, equating us with the scribes and the Pharisees. I thought he should have said something about the need for repentance, and bringing forth the fruits of repentance, from the sinners. What did you think?" "I thought it was a good sermon. It was very Biblical with all the incidents of Jesus befriending the outcasts, etc. which Canon Ford mentioned in his sermon." Peter's father looked up from his roast beef, and gave his son a hard look. He wondered if this was some wishy washy liberalism that he was picking up at University. "We have to look at Scripture as a whole, not just our selected parts." "True. But we do have to take on board and apply the relationship that Jesus had with the religious establishment of his day." "Yes, but I don't think the Church Council of St Sebastian's, Whitgest, nor even the bishops and synods of the church, are in danger of crucifying our Lord!" Peter decided to leave it there. The rest of the meal proceeded as usual. After the clearing away and the washing up, Andrew went off to see his girl friend; Mary stayed for a cup of tea before returning to Hitchin, and his parents had their Sunday afternoon doze. Peter went up to his room, feeling slightly better than he had done at breakfast time. -0---0---0- 36. Work and an interesting session with Carol and James Spencer. On Monday morning Peter cycled the six miles into Hitchin. It had been arranged that he would go by car when he could borrow his mother's car, otherwise he would cycle. He was to do any job he was asked to do, probably standing in for various people while they were on holiday. For the first two weeks he was to work in the kitchen. This suited him well. The kitchen seemed to him chaos at first. Slowly he realised it was organised chaos. Towards the end of the first week, he was impressed with the efficiency. He got on well with the other staff. There was one incident, early on, when the chef asked him to get a baking tray from the warming oven. Rather than touching to see how hot it was, he pulled it from the oven taking the full weight. It was more than warm, it was very hot, certainly to Peter's still sensitive hands. The tray fell with a clatter on the floor. The chef rushed round. "What's happened?" "It was hot," said Peter. "Of course, it was hot. It has just come from a warm place. Let me see your hands." Peter's hands were beginning to go red. The chef took hold of them, looked at them. "You'll live. Get on with your work." His hands hurt for a while, but did not blister. Soon he felt a part of the team. He began to enjoy the work. It was totally different from University life. He had to put up with a certain amount of teasing from the other staff. But when he took it all in good part, and started to give as good as he got, he was soon accepted as a member of the kitchen team. It took his mind off his inner feelings. The blackness of the guilt and shame began to lessen. It was not until the Tuesday of the second week that he had an evening off when he could call on the Spencers. As he walked round to their house, he was puzzling in his mind as to what they wanted. Carol came to the door. "Peter darling, it is wonderful to see you. So glad you could pop round." She put her arms round him and gave him a kiss. James welcomed him more soberly into their sitting room. "Good to see you Pete. Carol tells me you had a good term. What would you like to drink, coffee? Something cold? Something strong? "Just a coffee please." Carol went out to make the coffee. "Did you manage to play any cricket, or did work take up all the time? Cricket demands such a lengthy commitment. Squash is a better sport for busy people, short and hard." James was a keen squash player, and had tried to get Peter interested, but Peter's first love was undoubtedly cricket. This was all an old discussion. After a while Carol came back into the room with the coffee, and a plate full of sweet and sticky cakes. "I got these specially for you, Peter dear. I doubt whether even the austerities of University life would succeed in weaning you away from your sweet tooth in a mere year." The conversation remained on a light level for several minutes. It was James who introduced the reason for the invitation to coffee. "You know, only too well, Peter what village life is like. The grape vine, or the gossip network, works very efficiently in this village. One of the main exchanges on the grapevine is Mrs Walker, who lives up near the church." "Yes, I know her." Peter wondered where this was going to lead. Was he going to be tackled for immoral conduct in hugging Ben in the churchyard on the day of the funeral? "Carol had a long talk with her a couple of months ago. From Mrs Walker, Carol gathered that you have met, and are in contact now with Ben Menzies." With sinking heart, Peter replied. "Yes. I met him again at the end of my first term. I have seen him several times since." "Ben was in our youth club, though that was well before you were a member. It was about two or three years later that we picked up on the grapevine possible reasons for his disappearance." "My darling James did try to find out from Stanley Menzies why Ben had disappeared so abruptly," intervened Carol. "But he was given an abrupt answer that said nothing, but implied something serious. It was, quite simply, mind your own business. When we found out what had happened we were horrified, weren't we honey?" "Yes, dear." "It seemed so totally unjust." Before even Carol could continue James took over. "I don't know what your views are Peter, but Carol and I are out of step with most people in this village, and certainly with many of those in the church, when it comes to homosexuality. We see it as an issue of justice. As long as no one is being harmed, no one forced into something unwillingly, then what two consenting men get up to in private is no one else's business." "But they were rather young," said Carol. "Yes, about eighteen." James used his two hands like scales and shook his head as though weighing one thing over against another. "But to throw him out of the family, that is terrible. He did not deserve that treatment." "But tell us Peter. How is poor dear Ben? What is he doing for a living?" Peter told them of Ben's academic successes, and his present position, and standing in the world of English studies. "As to how he is, he is fine. He is very happy. He lives with a chap called Clive, who is a psychiatric nurse. They are good for each other. Ben has introduced Clive to the theatre, and Clive has got Ben interested in football." "No! Ben interested in football? That, I would have said, was impossible," said James laughing. "I am so pleased that Ben was, sort of, able to come to poor dear Dorothy's funeral." Peter told them his side of the events of that day. "When you next see Ben, give him our love." "And say how sorry we were not to be able to be of any help to him, at that difficult time, all those years ago." Peter walked home surprised at the way the evening had turned out. Surprised at the Spencer's liberal and tolerant attitude. Perhaps it was possible to combine a Christian commitment with a pro gay stance. But, of course, it was easy for them, safe within a heterosexual marriage. He began to think about it all as a justice issue. That was a new slant for him. Was it really an issue of justice that he and Anton should be free to do what they did a fortnight before? -0---0---0- 37. A day with Anton. The activity of working at the Hermitage, and a young man's effervescent sexuality, soon had Peter back on a more even keel. His parents made no reference to Ben, or to the interrogation of the Easter vacation. The feelings of guilt and shame began to fade. The night with Anton was remembered with delight, and soon the desire for more began to rear its head. The arrangements with the Hermitage were that he would work for ten days, and then have three days off. A plot began to form in Peter's mind. He was beginning to work his way through his tutor's reading list. His parents knew that usually when he was up in his room he was working. His father was most impressed, and encouraged Peter. He saw that he could make a good excuse to pay a quick visit to Nottingham. He could need some books from the library. He wrote to Anton. `Dear Anton, You have been very much in my thoughts since we last met. I don't know that I can bear to wait until the very end of September before seeing you again. I have been wondering if you were still feeling the same way about things. It has occurred to me that I can make a good excuse to come up to Nottingham for a couple of nights. [I need some books from the library!!] I could come for the Thursday and Friday nights of next week. Is that possible for you?' The rest of the letter was filled with an account of the work he was doing at the Hermitage. He signed off, `Counting the days, with much love, Peter xxxx' Three days later he got a heavy letter from Anton. When he opened it, a couple of keys fell out. 'Dear Peter, Great, great, great. Can't wait. I shall be working until 8.00 on Thursday evening, so I am sending the keys. Arrive whatever time you like, make yourself at home. I will be back about 8.30. I will try to arrange to have Friday completely off. Till Thursday. With lots of love Anton xxx' At dinner that evening Peter announced that he needed to have a day in Nottingham to look up certain things. His father made friendly enquiries about the work, and was supportive and encouraging. His mother was more practical. "Where will you stay, dear?" "A fellow student lives in Nottingham, I am sure I could crash down at his home." "Are you sure that will be all right?" "I'll make contact and find out." "How will you go? If I'm not using my car, you could borrow it." "Thanks Mum, that's kind of you." "When were you thinking of going?" "I have got three days off at the end of next week. I could go on the Thursday and come back on Saturday." "I think I will want my car on the Saturday afternoon, but if you are back by 3.00, you can use my car." It was so easily arranged. In his idle moments thoughts of Anton filled his mind. Often he became quite aroused in anticipation. He left Whitgest just after 9.00, and made good time up to Nottingham. He went straight to the University. It seemed strange, with the campus bereft of students. He had completed the work that was the excuse for his visit by mid afternoon. As it was a rather miserable day he decided to go round to Anton's. He made his way into the house, and up the stairs to the flat. He felt that he was an intruder when he opened the door. The flat was exactly as he remembered it. On the table there was a sheet of paper, with a message for him. 'Welcome. Make yourself at home. Raid the fridge etc. I thought we could go out for a meal, when I get back. I will be hungry so don't eat too much, or you will be having to watch the lion feed. I'll be back as soon as I can. Can't wait to see you etc. etc. Mountains of love, Anton.XX' Peter decided that the best way to make the time pass quickly was to get down to some work. He made himself some coffee, and settled down with his books. Meanwhile Anton was working at Mapperley Park Hospital. He too was wanting time to pass quickly. At one time in the middle of the afternoon he met Clive in one of the corridors. "Hi Anton. How goes it." "Fine! Guess who is coming to stay for a couple of days." "I can't think." "No, go on, guess." "No. Not.....?" "Yes, Peter. He is coming up this afternoon and staying until Saturday morning." said Anton, with a broad grin. "That's great. When did all this start?" "After your last get together. You mentioned he had asked about me. I wrote, and we met, and the rest is history as they say." "That's wonderful," said Clive, slapping Anton on the back. "I think you two could be well suited. You deserve each other. I know that is often said in a bad sense, but I really mean it in the best, most positive way possible. Wait till I tell Ben. He will forget his precious Chaucer for a while. He will be pleased, I know." He went off chuckling to himself, and then called back over his shoulder. "Have a good time; do everything I would do, and give him my love." After a couple of hours, Peter made another coffee, and browsed through Anton's very limited selection of books, and larger collection of tapes. He put on some music, and settled down to more reading. It was just after 8.00 when he heard the door slam below, and hurried steps coming up the stairs two at a time. Anton tried the door, found it unlocked, and burst into the room. "Great. I had a horrible fear that you wouldn't be here." Peter got to his feet. There was a fleeting awkward moment of shyness, and then they were into each other's arms. They kissed, cuddled, fondled. They tore off their clothes and fell on the bed. They did not go out for a meal that evening. They concocted a meal about 1.30 am. They got up late. They had a big breakfast, which did include black pudding. In the afternoon they decided to go out. After some debate they decided to go to Newstead Abbey for a couple of hours. They looked over the house, viewed the tomb of Bosun, Lord Byron's dog, and then wandered round the park. They enjoyed talking and just being together. They bought ice creams, and finding a secluded spot, sat down on the grass. When the ices were finished they both lay back on the grass and dozed. Peter was the first to come to; he sat up and looked down at the sleeping Anton. After a few moments he picked a blade of grass, and with it began to tickle Anton's lips. He woke with a sputter. "I was fast asleep - dreaming." "Of me, I hope," said Peter. "If it had been of you it would have been a nightmare!" "Really?" "Do you think so after last night." "Honestly? No." "It were great! I am beginning to feel horny for you again! I don't think I can bear the thought of not seeing you until your term starts in October." "It is a long while." Peter was silent for a couple of minutes. "Have you got any holiday time due to you?" "Yes, about three weeks. I don't really know what to do with it, why?" "I intend having some proper holiday at the end of September, what about going away together?" "That does sound a good idea." It was now Anton's turn to do some thinking. "What about a couple of weeks on a sunny Greek island?" "What a brilliant idea. Sun, sea." "And sex," added Anton quickly. "Sleeping together every night for two weeks. Not for sex, but for love making." "Yes, love making. The very thought of it begins to make me hard." Peter moved so that the mound of his hardening cock could be seen. "Same here." Anton gave a quick look round and when he saw no one was around he pulled Peter's hand on to his crotch. "Feeling that will really make me hard." "So what are we waiting for?" Anton knowing that the coast was clear pulled Peter face down and they kissed. "You are rapidly becoming someone special to me." "You are to me." Anton gave Peter a final quick kiss, and stood up. He pulled Peter up on to his feet. "You look as though you are ready for it now." "If we do anything more here we will be in danger of being arrested." They began to walk towards the car park. "Let me tell you about my work, that should take our minds off important things." Peter laughed. Soon they were parking the car near Anton's flat. The opened the door at the bottom of the staircase, and then went up the stairs two at a time. Anton unlocked the door to the flat. The moment they were inside they were undressing each other, making another tidy and mixed pile of their clothes. It was nearly five hours later that they slipped out for a quick take away. On the Saturday they rose late, and it was 11.00am when Peter left for Whitgest, after a painful and prolonged saying goodbye. It was just over thirty-six hours of love making, and talking. They talked about going away together in September. -0---0---0- 38. Janet's engagement and the letter. An exhausted Peter roused himself from bed early on Sunday morning. He dragged himself through the bathroom and breakfast, and with many yawns made his way to the Hermitage to work. He was back to working in the kitchens. The chef, a large man who enjoyed his own food, teased Peter about his appearance and tiredness after three days off. Peter took it all in good part, though he found himself thinking about the hours that he had spent with Anton. Tuesday evening was warm and sunny, with a gentle breeze. Peter was not working in Hitchin that evening. After the evening meal he went up to his room to do some reading. He had a table desk under the window, where the light was good. He read a book on international finance for about half an hour. From time to time the wind slightly stirred the curtains. Then he suddenly remembered that he ought to write to Anton, to say thank you, and to keep in touch He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out an A4 sheet of paper. He did not write many letters, other than his weekly letter home, so he did not go in for notepaper. He began to write. 'My dearest Anton, I am sorry I have not written before to say thank you for your hospitality last week. I came back feeling very tired [I wonder why!!], and it was straight back to work. I keep thinking of our time together. For me it was a wonderful time. Getting to know each other better. I long to feel again your hands roaming over every part of my body,' he heard the phone ringing downstairs. 'and for my lips and tongue to explore every part of yours.' Then he heard his mother call. "Peter, telephone. Its Janet on the phone." He pulled himself away from the reverie of his time with Anton. "Okay. Just coming." He pulled out another sheet of paper, and covered his letter. He put his biro on top, got up, and went downstairs. "Hello Janet, good to hear from you. How's things?" "Fine. I thought I would give you a call to see how you had got on last term." "I had a good term. My tutor is saying that if I work really hard, I might be in line for a first. How did it go for you?" "I am not doing as well as you are. But I am enjoying the work and everything else. But I also rang to tell you some other news. Mike and I are engaged." "Oh." There was a slight pause, as he took it in. "I am delighted. I must get it correct. Best wishes in every way to yourself, and congratulations to Mike." Janet laughed. "Good old Peter. Always a stickler for correct etiquette. Yes, you got it right." "When did it happen?" "He asked me right at the end of term. Then we kept it secret until he could see my parents." "I bet they are pleased." "Yes, so long as it does not upset my work." "When do you hope to get married?" "Not until we finish at Uni. I hope you will not be too shocked; but we are going to be living together." "No. I am not shocked." The thought of his own activities, ruled that out. "I thought you might be. You with your strict Puritan principles." Peter laughed. "Have you got a ring?" "Yes, we went out and bought it today. He is here with me now. Can you come over some time? It would be good to see you." "I should think so. I am working at the Hermitage in Hitchin, so my free time is limited. I am also trying to do some work." "Swat! Mike is here until Sunday. If you have any free time, give me a ring. We could meet up during the day if that would be easier." They rang off, and Peter made his way upstairs. His mind was full of Janet and Mike. There was also the realisation that she had been correct in what she had said of him that last evening of the school holidays, nearly a year ago. What a lot had happened since then. He went into his room, picked up the biro from the floor where it must have fallen, and resumed his letter to Anton. 'It was a wonderful thirty six hours,' he wrote. 'I never realised that I could feel about another person, as I feel about you now. I do hope we can manage to get away together in September. I will call in the travel agents, and see if there are any cheap offers for somewhere in Greece. Lots of love, wishing I could express it fully, Love Peter. XXXXX' He read the letter through and smiled. He got out an envelope, and addressed it. He stuck on the stamp, and made his way downstairs and out of the house to post it. As he went out he called, "Just popping out to the post" When he came back into the house, his father emerged from the dining room. "Peter, can you come in here for a minute? Your mother and I would like a word with you." Peter went into the dining room, and from the look on his parent's faces immediately realised that something was up. His mother was seated at the table, looking rather distressed. His father looked angry. Peter sat down at the table with his parents opposite him. "What's the matter? What's happened?" His father answered. "Peter, can you tell us who Anton is?" Peter faltered for a moment. "Anton is the person I stayed with when I went up to Nottingham last week, to do that bit of work." "Yes?" "He is someone I have got to know a bit over the last term. He lives in Nottingham." "With his parents?" "Well, er, no." "Where then?" "He has got a flat. I stayed with him there." "What is the nature of your relationship with him?" "We are friends." "Just friends?" "Good friends" "Just good friends?" "What is all this about?" "Peter, can you tell us about the nature of your relationship with this man Anton? It is more than just good friends, is it not?" "Peter hung his head for a moment. "Why is there this third degree inquisition into my private life?" His mother now spoke. "Peter, I must tell you what has happened. You may remember that when you had that phone call from Janet, immediately after you came down stairs, I went up. We passed at the bottom of the stairs. One of the things that I did while I was upstairs was to sort out the clothes from the airing cupboard. There were several of your things. I took them into your bedroom, and put them on your bed, as I have done for years. There were two pieces of paper on the floor." Peter began to go very red, and hung his head, in a vain attempt to hide his blushes. His mother continued. "One piece was blank. The other had writing on it. Peter, I could not help seeing. If it had been on your desk, I would not have read it. But as I picked it up I could not help seeing what was written. My dearest Anton. Anton is a boy's name. If it had been My dearest Antonia, I would have smiled, and read no more. I was so surprised, that I saw more. Words which I am ashamed to speak, about lips and tongues exploring." "That is why your mother and I want to know the nature of your relationship with Anton," added his father. Peter sat there in silence, not knowing how to, or wanting, to begin. "Surely it is my business, just to do with me?" "In one sense, yes, Peter," his father replied. "But you are our son. We live together in this home, as a loving and caring family. We have always treated you with openness. We have always trusted you. There are I believe very few secrets in this family. If you are in trouble, we want to help. If you have been caught, entrapped in something evil, we want to rescue you from it. We care for you, Peter. We love you. That is why we want to know the nature of your relationship with this Anton." Peter still sat in silence, so his father resumed questions. "Is he a fellow student?" Peter shook his head. "What does he do?" "He is a psychiatric nurse." His parents looked at each other, links were being made in their minds, their worst fears were being confirmed. "How old is he?" "He is just two or three years older than me. Not much older." "How long have you known each other?" "Since just before Easter." "Where did you meet? Students and psychiatric nurses don't usually move in the same circles." "We met at Ben's," spoken slowly and reluctantly. "I knew it. I knew it," his mother interjected. "I knew that nothing but evil would come from your meeting up with Benjamin Menzies again. Oh, Peter!" "Your relationship with Anton is a sexual relationship, isn't it?" Peter nodded. "We don't want to know all the anatomical details. When did it become physical? Before Easter?" "No." "Well that is one good thing. You did not lie to us about your sexual innocence during the Easter vac then. Or did you? Have there been others?" asked his father as a sudden burst of fearful suspicion crossed his mind. "No. Only with Anton." "All through the summer term." "No, right at the end of term." "And then last week?" "Yes." "Did this Anton entice you in some way? Seduce you?" "No. I think there was a mutual attraction." "How long have you been attracted to men?" "We thought Janet was your girl friend until the Christmas holidays," interposed his mother. "It was Janet, who told me that she thought I was gay!" "Janet!" "Yes Janet. She said that our relationship was not progressing. That I was only interested in her mind, and had no interest in her body, as a woman. She challenged me by saying that I was not interested in her as a girl. She said I was not like a normal boy, wanting to kiss her, cuddle her, and have sex with her. She said that she thought I was gay. I was initially angry, very angry." "Was she right?" asked his father. Peter nodded. "I think so. But I put down my lack of desire to do those things to my wanting to obey God." "Wanting to obey God. What about your obeying God now?" said his father, almost shouting. "Where was obeying God, when you met up with this Anton? What do you feel about it all now, Peter?" Peter buried his head in his hands. "I don't know. I really don't know." "I think you do. I think you are ashamed of what you have done. You have let God down. You have let your family down. You have let yourself down." "Peter, I think you are ashamed of what you have done," said his mother. "You have been brought up in a Christian home, knowing right from wrong. I believe your faith means a lot to you. I don't think you want to grieve the Lord. I don't think you want to walk down a path of deliberate disobedience. Do you?" Peter shook his head. "I think you are at the moment at an important crossroads in your life," said his father. "You can make your choice. Over the last few weeks you have taken the first few steps down an evil path. If you go down that way, where will you end up? Will it be furtive gropings in public toilets? Will it be shameful diseases that have to be treated surreptitiously in special clinics? Or will it be an early death with this AIDS thing? Will it be a lonely old age in some dingy flat? That is the fate of the majority of those who go down the homosexual path. How it can be called gay, when you look at facts like those, I just cannot understand." Peter sank lower in the chair, his face buried ever deeper in his hands. He could not look at his parents. "But there is the other way. The Lord is merciful, forgiving, and through His Spirit he can empower, and redeem. There are those who can help men entrapped in the lusts of their desires. With the Lord's help, you can return to his way. The way of purity and chastity. There are many who have a homosexual phase in their early life, who overcome it. They are able to lead a respectable, godly life. There are many who have such episodes, who turn from it all. They get married, and with the help of a good woman, lead a pure life, and have children." "Peter, you love children," his mother said. "Don't you want to have children of your own? Surely you don't want to put that possibility away from you." As his father had described the consequences of the homosexual choice, vivid images had formed in his mind with each verbal picture. But it was his mother's words about children that really got through to him. He did like children. The thought of children of his own was very strong and positive. That was a cost that would be hard to bear. There was silence for a few minutes. "I said you stand at a crossroads. You must make the choice. `Choose you this day who you will serve?' Have you the strength to say like Joshua, `As for me and my family, we will serve the Lord.'?" There was another pause. "I think we have all said enough for tonight. I think Peter, you should go up to your room, and think about all that is involved and the possibilities. Your mother and I will be praying for you. Later we can decide what can be done." Peter rose and slowly left the room.