Date: Sun, 31 Jan 1999 20:23:11 -0000 From: John Williams Subject: Tom's Song Although the exams had only finished a week ago, they were already a distant memory as the two friends waved goodbye to their parents from the train. "I thought we'd never get away. Anybody would think that we were going to do missionary work in deepest Africa and might never be seen again." This was David O'Brien. He was seventeen, still fresh-faced, tall and slim. He wore his long blonde hair parted in the middle and tucked loosely behind each ear. He was loud, confident and funny - or so he thought. He nudges his companion, "hey! I thought your Mum was never going to let go of you." "Yeah, she's gonna miss me," replied Tom Anderton. He and David had been friends since junior school - ever since they had found out that they shared the same birthday. Tom was shorter than his friend and often unkindly described as skinny. His hair was dark brown and conservatively cut short, making one of the crowd - which was pretty much how he liked it. "Well, you always were her favourite," David reached over and squeezed Tom on the cheek with his finger and thumb and then patted him on the head. "I'm her only," protested Tom. "Exactly," replied David Tom was often the butt of David's jokes, but over the years he had grown immune to his sarcasm and rarely took offence. Indeed he enjoyed David's attention and in return he laughed, which always pleased David who loved an audience. Their relationship was much deeper than this as they had been through some difficult times together. David's parents had divorced when he was twelve and the year after Tom's father had been killed in an accident at work. Both events were never far from the surface despite eachs attempts to hide their feelings. "Are you sure I should've brought this?" said Tom lifting up a guitar onto the luggage rack above them. Despite his reservations about the awkwardness of carrying it around Europe, Tom was secretly very relieved when David had agreed. Tom loved his music and it was one of the few ways that he found it easy to express himself. In recognition of this, Tom's music was one of the very few parts of his life that David never made fun of. "Yeah, why not? Can't afford to pay for entertainment so we have to make our own. And..." Tom completed the sentence he had heard many times before, "...if we ever run out of money we can sing our way home." "That's my boy!" At that moment a well-dressed old lady and her husband entered the compartment. They took the two seats opposite, the lady brushing the seat with her hand before sitting down. She looked across at the two boys and smiled. "I've really been looking forward to this trip," said Tom almost in a whisper. "It's the first time that we've ever been away on our own." "It's scary, isn't it?" A rare moment of doubt for David. "That's a first. David O'Brien admitting to being scared. The man who described `A' levels as a `breeze'." "Well they were, but this is different. Now we're on our own. No teachers, no parents, no one to catch us if we fall. Splat!" He slapped Tom's thigh. "Splat!" Tom replied with a harder blow. "Ouch that hurt!" David complained. "Good. It was meant to, I couldn't cope with you being serious for any longer. This is meant to be a holiday. A time to relax, to forget about the strains of the exams.," he explained. "In fact, all those arguments you used to persuade my Mum to let me come. So no more serious. OK?" "I submit. No more serious," conceded David, as he held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, and that really did hurt." "Then so will this," Tom seized the initiative and landed a heavy punch on David's arm. "You bast..." Tom's hand shot over his friend's mouth, and with his eyes motioned towards the lady sat opposite."Shhh!" "Oops, sorry," David apologised with a shrug of his shoulders. There followed a long silence during which the old man fell asleep. "I'm going to see if I can get a drink or something. Do you want anything?" asked Tom as he stood up. "No thanks I'm OK for now," said a smiling David. He watched Tom closely as he left the compartment. "You've been friends for a long time then," observed the old lady. David was slightly startled when he realised that the comment was aimed at him. "Yes," he hesitated, "we've been friends for years. We've just finished our `A' levels and then we're off to University. We thought that we'd treat ourselves to a holiday before it all starts again in October." "I expect that you're really looking forward to it," she said. A statement, not a question. "Yes," David nodded and smiled. "Learn a few things; see a few sights. Go as far as we want to with no one telling us what to do. Decide things for ourselves." "I used to enjoy being young," she continued, letting her face warm into a smile, "and then I met my husband." She nodded towards the sleeping man next to her and the smile disappeared. "Well, you know what they say, travelling with a friend either makes or breaks the friendship?" David did not reply because he was thinking whether or not he had ever heard that saying before. Just as he concluded that he had not, Tom returned. "So, you didn't change your mind and decide to jump off then?" asked a gladly distracted David. "No chance. You can't get rid of me that easily." Tom looked down at his watch. "Anyway, we should be in Dover soon and in plenty of time for the ferry." "And so the adventure begins," David concluded. Although the holiday had been planned for months the two boys had made no firm decisions about what exactly to do or where exactly to go - much to their parents' consternation. They had made a pact that they would only finally decide their destination once they had left England. David thought that this would be more exciting, whilst Tom just worried and went along with it. They were sat in the bar on the ferry. Several empty beer glasses were being used to hold flat a backpacking map of Europe which extended from the back of a guidebook. "So where should we go then?" asked David, making a sweeping gesture with his hand over the map. "I dunno," replied Tom. "I never really thought that we'd get this far." "Oh Ye of little faith. Holiday of a lifetime I promised, and holiday of a lifetime you'll get! So, what's it to be? Capital cities and culture," he pointed to various locations on the map, "or sun, sand and sex?" "Do you really have to ask?" Tom looked up at David and smiled broadly. "Sea, sand and sex it is then! But where? The south of France, Spain, Italy or even Greece?" "Well, we've both got an `A' level in French," offered Tom. "So France is out then!" David laughed loudly and infectiously. "Yeah, bollocks to France!" agreed Tom. "I suppose Greece is a bit too far. So that leaves Italy and Spain. Which is it to be?" "Which lesson was the most boring we ever did?" "Apart from French?" "Yes, apart from French," continued Tom. And then in unison, "Latin!" "So forget about Italy, which leaves Spain," concluded David. "OK, Spain," agreed Tom. "The Costa Del Sol," David began to flick through the guidebook until he found the relevant section. Reading aloud he said, "'The Spanish Costas. Fashionable and popular destination for over two million visitors a year. Hundreds of miles of golden beaches. Ideal for the backpacker. Thousands of cheap restaurants and affordable hotels. Sounding good?" "Sounding good," repeated Tom. "So, sunny Spain it is then," he picked up his glass." Here's to sun, sand and sex in sunny Spain." "Betcha couldn't say that again?" "Here's to san, sun and....bollocks!" David winked at Tom and the conversation dissolved into giggles. Two days, two long train journeys and an arduous coach ride from Madrid later, they arrived tired and hungry at a small hotel somewhere on the Costa Del Sol. A tall, slim, blonde English woman greeted them. "Hello boys. My name's Amanda. How can I help you?" "Yes, I'm David O'Brien. I called last night to reserve a room," he always spoke first. "Of course. You called from Madrid," she consulted a large red book on the desk "How was the coach trip then?" She smiled. "Not too bad. A bit hot and dusty though," David answered. "Just you and your friend then?" "Yes," Tom spoke for the first time, "just the two of us." "Your passports then please, and if you could fill in your details here," she handed them a card. "A double or a twin room?" David felt himself blush a little, "a twin room please." "No problem, and how long will you be with us?" She took David's passport and then Tom's. "Not long. Two nights maybe. We want to travel down the coast," explained David. "Together?" "Yes, together," said Tom. "That'll be room twenty-three," she handed the passports back. "Second floor, on the right." She handed over a key. "Enjoy your stay." "Thank you," they both said. David and Tom picked up their rucksacks and walked towards the staircase to the right of the reception desk. "Couldn't you just've died when she asked if we wanted a double or a twin room?" asked David, who tried to hide his embarrassment with a laugh. "Heaven knows what she must've been thinking when we first arrived." He nudged Tom in the ribs with his elbow. "Me and you a pair of puffs!" They both laughed as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Their room was small but comfortable, with a balcony which overlooked the kitchen yard. There were two narrow beds only about two feet apart in the centre of the room. The rest of the furniture consisted of a wardrobe, two small bedside cabinets and a dressing table. David entered first and flopped onto the nearest bed. "Wake me up next week Tom," David said. "I don't think I could move now even if I wanted to. Sure beats a bunkbed on a train!" Tom closed the door with his foot and place his rucksack and guitar on the empty bed. He then sat wearily on the bed next to David. His weight caused the bed to bounce and so he continued to move up and down to accentuate the movement. "Come on, wake up! Time for some fun," being as enthusiastic as he could. "Leave me alone. I just want to sleep, " protested David in a murmur. "Wake up sleepy-head!" Tom bounced even more heavily, "wake up!" "OK, OK," David conceded at last. "If it's fun or sea-sickness, I'll go for the fun. But first, I've got to have a shower. See if that will wake me up." He sat up slowly and carefully to begin to rummage in his rucksack which lay by his feet. Eventually he pulled out a towel and a sponge bag. Meanwhile, Tom had got off the bed and picked up his guitar. He strummed a few chords, lost for a while in his music. David went to explore the bathroom which was in the far corner of the room before returning and stripping off. He looked at himself in the mirror above the dressing table. "Look," he said, pointing to the top of his arms which were red, "I've caught the sun already." Tom was too embarrassed by his friend's nakedness to look up and continued to play. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he eventually replied. "Do what? Get sunburned?" asked David, genuinely confused. "No," Tom looked up at David, "walk around naked." "Jealous of my athletic body then?" He felt his biceps to emphasise the point. "No, I was thinking about the neighbours actually." "Who, these people out here?" David walked over to the window, opened it and walked onto the balcony. "No one out here except a few cats. Shit!" Tom stopped playing and looked over to David, "and Amanda the receptionist!" "No?" Tom blushed for David. "No actually. I was lying; just the cats!" David turned round and caught Tom's eye. "What are you like? Should've seen your face?" Tom blushed fully. "Look, just get in the shower. You're putting me off my music," Tom deliberately begins to play out of tune and to sing badly. "OK, OK, I'm outa here," he picked up his towel from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. "And don't use up all the hot water," Tom shouted after him. As he heard the shower being turned on David screamed obscenely, causing Tom to laugh aloud. After a moment he picked up a small notebook and opened it. On the pages there were a few lines of scribbled writing. He hummed to himself as he read the lines quietly to himself. Then he picked up the guitar and played a few chords. Happy with what he had just done he scribbled another line in the book. Tom was totally submerged in his music and did not notice David returning to dry himself. David put on a clean tee-shirt and a pair of faded cut-off jeans. "Tom," David sat heavily on the bed disturbing his concentration. "Your turn." Tom shook his head, the spell broken. "And that water, it's cold." Tom put the guitar down carefully on the bed and took his rucksack into the bathroom, too embarrassed to undress in front of David. He got into the shower and began to wash. After a few minutes he noticed the door of the bathroom open and David's hand reached in and tapped out an old rhythm of theirs on the perspex of the shower door. Tom replied with a familiar rat-tat-tat. "I'm just going downstairs to see if I can get a paper and find a good place to eat, OK?" asked David. "Back soon." With this David left. The hotel was situated down a narrow side street which ran into the main road alongside the beach. All along this main road were restaurants and kiosks selling holiday ware. David walked for about ten minutes, inspecting the occasional menu board. He picked up a British newspaper on his way and eventually returned to the hotel. At reception was Amanda. "Been exploring?" she smiled. "You could say that yes. Actually I've been looking for somewhere to eat," David hardly paused as he continued to walk to the stairs. "You and your friend going for a meal then?" "Yes," he nodded. "We're going together." He smiled to himself as he disappeared up the stairs. In the bedroom Tom had finished his shower and was stood in front of the mirror, wearing just his shorts. He thought about David's earlier comment about him being jealous of his body and made a Charles Atlas type pose. At that moment the door opened and David entered. "Well, if it's not Arnold Swarfega!" exclaimed David. Although surprised by his friend's entrance, he held the pose for a moment before he turned around to face him. "I think you might mean `Arnold Swarzeneger'" Tom corrected. "I know who I mean," retorted David as he sat down and opened the newspaper. "Anyway, when you've finished playing Miss World, I've found a cheap place to eat. Mind you," he looked Tom carefully up and down, "perhaps a Wimpy bar might be more appropriate." "Ho, ho!" mocked Tom as he threw his wet towel over his tormentor's head. This allowed Tom to escape to the bathroom to finish getting dressed. "Hurry up in there," David shouted after him, "because we've got to get an early night tonight. The holiday starts proper tomorrow." The next three weeks were spent travelling slowly along the coast. They rarely spent more than two days in any one place, mostly sleeping under the stars, although in some of the bigger towns they were forced to take a hotel room because the beaches were too busy. Most of their time was spent swimming and sunbathing during the day and in the evenings they would find a quiet spot and build a camp fire. There David would take charge and usually burn the food, Tom would sit and play the guitar until David fell asleep. Sometimes they would buy some wine and sit and talk about school and their friends. They rarely talked about each other or their families - it seemed as if the memories would somehow spoil the holiday. In the last week of their trip they were again on some quiet beach. David was out swimming and Tom was sat amongst their things, playing his guitar and singing to himself. Again he was lost in his music as David walked up and sat down next to him. Tom noticed his arrival and tapped out their rhythm on the body of the guitar. David completed the ritual on Tom's thigh. "I think that I'm beginning to burn," David said as he took out a bottle of suncream. He tossed it into Tom's lap. "Here, put some on my back for me." Tom picked up and examined the bottle. "Go on then," Tom waved his hand to indicate that David should lie down. He squeezed some of the lotion onto his hand and placed it on David's shoulder. "Argh, that's cold," David squirmed a little which provoked Tom to put on some more, before beginning to rub it in. "Mmm, that's good." "It is?" asked Tom. "Yes, you're getting good at it. At least now you rub the cream in and don't just leave it their like you used to do." "Well maybe now I've turned into some kind of pervert who likes rubbing slime into people's skins," offered Tom. "I had thought about that possibility," said David, which provoked Tom to slap his back. "Ouch!" "Well it must be the company that I'm keeping then," he continued to rub the lotion into David's back. "Are you enjoying yourself?" David finally asked. "What, rubbing slime into back?" Tom was surprised by the question. David opened his eyes and turned slightly to look at Tom. "No. The holiday." This reassured Tom and he continued to massage the cream. "Are you happy?" Tom thought for a moment, "yes, of course I am. Are you?" David closed his eyes again and lowered his head onto the sand. "I'm happy with you Tom," he whispered, "happy with you." After a while Tom stopped rubbing and turned to look out to the sea. He took a long silent breath before letting out a deep sigh. Later that morning they decided to break camp and to move on to the next village. They had talked to some other backpackers and heard about a deserted beach some ten miles away. However the journey took longer than they had expected and soon it was getting dark. According to their map they had about half a mile to go. "Don't worry, he says. We'll be there before dark, he says. And are we here? No! And is it dark? Yes!" Tom seemingly muttered to himself, but it was clear that his comments were meant for David. "You'll have a dark arse in a minute," retorted David, "on account of the bruise my foot'll put there." He enjoyed being in charge, but was never happy to take responsibility when things went wrong. "Listen," he stopped walking, "I can hear the sea, the beach must be down there." David pointed with his torch as it was now completely dark. "There must be a way through these bushes." David marched off in the direction of the noise and Tom followed until he walked into something solid. "Bollocks! What's this?" Tom shone his torch down towards what appeared to be a wooden sign. "N-A-T-U-R , nature. R-E-S-E-R-V-E, reserve," he read aloud. "A nature reserve." They continued down a winding path which emerged at the top of a small cove. At the bottom, some twenty feet down was a thirty yard stretch of sand before the next outcrop of rocks obscured their view. Carefully, they negotiated their way onto the beach and set up their camp around a small fire. For a change Tom cooked, he was fed up with David's burnt offerings. "Wow! I'm full. Can't beat baked spuds and sand. They can keep their a la carte menus," David enthused as he plopped onto his back to stare up at the stars. Tom cleared away the few things they had used before he sat down. Then he picked up his guitar and began to play. "What is that tune?" asked David after a while, "you've been playing it all holiday. I like it." "I wrote it a few weeks ago," he continued to play, "but I've been working on it for a while. Trying to get it just right." He stopped. "Perhaps it's the prelude to a symphony, " he strummed a chord," or some short-lived wonder?" David looked at Tom with a puzzled expression, but Tom ignored him and started to play and sing his song: I don't know about you, about this feeling inside of me, but all I know is what I know means so much to me. But what is it? Do you know? Do you feel? Do you see what I'm scared you might see? Are you asking the same questions of me? I'm afraid just to say, and yet we have nothing to fear. It's me and you, what can we do? Glad to know you're here. How can I say? Why do I feel? Do you know? Do you feel? Do you see what I want you to see? Are you asking the same questions of me? Is it true? Is it real? Can it be what I want it to be? Are you asking the same question of me? My friend, oh please, won't you please, answer me? Once Tom had finished they just sat for a few moments looking at each other. Slowly David leant forward and placed his hands so as to cup Tom's face. For a long moment he stared into his eyes before leaning forward to kiss Tom lightly on the forehead. David smiled as he removed his hands - a gesture of reassurance. Another moment passed before David turned away and got into his sleeping bag. Tom was left to continue to play on his own. Once that he was sure that David was asleep he stopped and got into his own sleeping bag. Next morning David was the first to wake. It was a bright, sunny morning like every other had been. David stepped out of his sleeping bag and stretched silently. He turned to face the sea and through misty eyes he looked over the rocks to his side to survey the rest of the beach. A shocked look appeared on his face and he quickly dropped to cover onto his knees. "Tom! Wake up!" His words caused Tom to stir. "What is it? Where's the fire?" Tom muttered. "Bodies!" stuttered David. "You what?" Tom was confused, and thought this was something to do with some new joke of David's. "Bodies, loads of bodies," he pointed down the beach with his arm, and then much more quietly, "naked bodies." Beyond the outcrop of rocks which marked the edge of their cove they could now both see a scattering of naked bodies. "Oh my Lord!" said Tom, fully awakened by the sight. "Let's get closer," suggested David as he tugged on Tom's arm. They moved to the rocks and not ten yards beyond was the first group of naked sunbathers. With typical bravado David said, "well, looking at some of them I can see that I'm not as small as I thought I was." "I think that I'm smaller," Tom whispered in a serious tone. For a few moments they remained crouched there taking in the view. David noticed more than Tom did and could not resist commenting on all that he saw. Soon the two boys were giggling loudly which attracted the attention of the nearest bathers. Not wanting to feel like peeping Toms, they both stood up once they realised they had been noticed. "Well," started David, with a mischievous grin, "when in Rome and all that?" "You have got to be joking!" exclaimed Tom, he blushed already at the merest suggestion. "Come on, if you've got it, flaunt it," David nudged Tom with his elbow. "Even if it is smaller than you thought." "You're serious aren't you?" Tom asked in abject disbelief. "Yep! `Course I am," David grinned his widest smile, "it'll be fun!" Doing such a thing was easy for David, but he had to work long and hard to convince Tom. It was long after breakfast once a group had actually entered their cove and settled only feet away from them that Tom relinquished. Then in a moment he was naked and running to the sanctuary of the sea before David had time to hardly notice. David on the other hand slowly and casually stood up to remove his tee-shirt and shorts, he seemed almost disappointed that none of the other bathers even glanced over. He walked over to the where the waves were breaking on the sand and just paddled for a moment. "Stop being such a show-off, and come into the water," shouted Tom from the safety of the deeper water twenty yards away. "It's lovely!" "Come and get me!" taunted David. Only Tom's head was above water as he swam slowly towards his friend. About ten yards away he stood up so that the water came to his waist. "Why don't you come to me?" asked Tom, reluctant to come out of the water any further. "Or are you scared of the fish?" He swept both of his hands forward in an attempt to splash David, who stepped a few feet back and let the water land harmlessly on dry sand in front of him. "Good try, but not good enough!" shouted David as he turned away and seemed to head back to their camp. Tom stood in the water and thought for a second, and then under his breath he muttered to himself, "what the heck." With that he lunged forward out of the sea towards David, just as he had decided to feign his return to the camp and turned swiftly to run at the waves. The two friends met almost in mid-air and landed with one big splash in the shallow water. Just as they were beginning to recover a big wave crashed over them and sent sprawling - both gasped for breath as they were thrown mercilessly onto the sand. In a moment of panic Tom grabbed David around the waist and they were pulled back into the sea as the wave receded. One final somersault and the two boys righted themselves and found themselves sat together on the sand waiting for the next wave. "Are you OK?" spluttered David. Tom nodded, he gasped for air, unable to talk. "Then hold on for the next one!" This time though they were ready as the next wave crashed into them and they were able to stand up in the water. David led Tom out to sea where they could ride the waves easier. Eventually Tom released his grip and let his hands slip away from David's waist. "Thanks David," said Tom as he spat sea water from his mouth. "What for?" "For saving my life just," replied Tom seriously. "You're joking?" "No, you saved my life," Tom spat some more. "For that I will always be in you debt." "You're joking, right?" Tom could not keep a straight face any longer, "of course I'm joking. Not even I could drown in two feet of water! But, I do owe you something." "What?" "This!" Tom skimmed his hand on the surface and directed a jet of seawater directly into David's face. "Was that good enough?" "You sneaky bastard!" cried David, frantically trying to rub the salt from his eyes, before he leapt blindly towards Tom. He landed with one arm across his shoulder and then used his weight and strength to pull him under. Tom disappeared under the onslaught and surfaced a few feet away. "OK! OK!" he pleaded. "I've had enough!" "Sure?" asked David with menace as he waded back towards his prey. "Submit?" "Yes, yes, I submit. Friends now?" Tom stretched out his hand. "OK, friends," David took Tom's hand and shook it, but did not leave go. "I promise." He pulled Tom towards him with a firm grip. "I promise OK, don't look so worried. Trust me!" He gave Tom a sharp tug and they rested nose-to-nose in the water. David put his arm on Tom's shoulder, "come on, let's get out and rest for a while." "You sure?" Tom suddenly remembered the reason he had gotten into the water. "Don't worry, you can lie on your front next to me." Tom waded out of the water as quickly as he could and flopped onto the sand as soon as it became dry. Slowly David came to join him and sat by his head. Aware of their closeness, David pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. "You should be careful Tom," said David, "Lying like that, who knows where the sand might get!" "I don't want to think about that, just being here is bad enough." After a few minutes David became restless and went back to the camp. He reappeared shortly after with his hair tied back and some sunlotion applied to his shoulders. "Come on let's go for a walk," David pulled Tom to his feet and then laughed. "But first go rinse off. You look like an insect that's just about to lose its skin!" Embarrassed by David's examination, Tom walked to the sea's edge and splashed water on him to wash the sand off. To Tom's great surprise no one did seem to notice them as they walked and he relaxed. "It feels strange not having anywhere to put you hands," observed Tom. "You speak for yourself," said David as he put his hands together to cover himself, "but I know what you mean." David laughed. "I wonder where nudists put their money?" "Didn't you see `Papillon'? offered Tom as he too began to laugh. They began to pass a large group of young women, a Swedish flag stuck in the sand next to them. "I think that I'm going to have sit down. All this hot sun and warm breeze is beginning to have an effect. The scenery isn't helping much either." He nodded towards the Swedes. "Yes, I see," said David as he looked down at Tom. "The sun certainly does help things to grow." Tom sat down and adopted the same position David had earlier. David fell down next to him and began to giggle. Tom pushed him away. "What was that for," asked an indignant David. "For getting me into this predicament." "What predicament?" David tried his best to sound innocent. "Stuck in the middle of a beach, naked, miles away from my clothes, surrounded by beautiful women, and..." Tom looked at David's hip where it touched his ankle, "...you're not helping much either." David blinked slowly in mock innocence and then turned slowly to lay on his back, keeping just as close to Tom. Tom felt his embarrassment growing and was powerless to resist it. David's skin seemed to burn in contact with his. He quickly flipped over onto his stomach. "It looks like we might be here for a while," he concluded. "Good," and then he too turned over onto his stomach. That evening they decided to treat themselves to a meal in the nearest town. They walked along the path that had led them to the beach and David had gotten ahead of Tom. He stopped and sat down to wait for his partner, but looked up when he heard him mumbling to himself. "When in Rome, he says; if you've got it, flaunt it, he says. And here's me, sunburnt in places that have hardly ever even seen the light of day before. I could be crippled for life," Tom walked in some obvious discomfort, and eventually caught up with David. "Argh, poor boy," David offered in mock sympathy. "You can laugh if you like. But it's sore, really sore," Tom was answered by David's laughter. "'Course it is," David stood up and started to walk. At the point where the path met the main road, David stopped as he noticed a sign. It read: `Naturist Reserve'. Tom's discomfort did not last for log and they moved on the next day and began their journey back to Madrid, where they planned to return by train to Paris and then the ferry home. A careful examination of their finances revealed that they had enough money to spend their last night in Spain in a hotel and to afford a meal out. They decided to eat at the small restaurant in the hotel and when they entered they were sat opposite a table where two other men sat. One of the men was in his thirties and his companion was much younger, perhaps still a teenager. A waiter approached them. "Menus," he had a heavy accent and placed the menus on the table. "Menu. Hey. Steak: grilled; chicken: fried, roast, chasseau; lamb: roast or, Hey, chops. Hey. Meat served with salad and fries. OK? Ready to order now? Hey." David and Tom exchanged glances and smiled before they examined the menus for themselves. "For a moment I thought we'd been given the `horses' set menu'" David whispered from behind his menu. Tom just frowned. "All that hay!" "Get on with it will you?" "OK, I'll have the steak, grilled please," said David as he fought the giggles. "OK now? Hey," the waiter turned his attention to Tom. "The same for me too, please," replied Tom. "Drinks?" asked the waiter as he scribbled in his pad. "Two beers please," said David as Tom nodded his approval. The waiter left and returned with the drinks as the two boys surveyed the rest of the restaurant. Two girls had just walked in and sat down close by. The girls looked over and smiled. Tom examined the tablecloth with his eyes as he noticed them, but David smiled back. "Do you think that they're interested in me?" asked Tom as he looked up and noticed that he still had one of the girl's attention. "Or maybe your fly's undone and they can see your sunburn?" suggested David. Tom tried to laugh discretely, but only succeeded in knocking a fork off the table. He blushed and reached down to pick it up. On the table opposite he noticed the two other men. The older man was stroking his partner's thigh. He was shocked by what he had seen and sat up slowly. The sight was with him for the rest of the meal and he kept recalling in his mind's eye the picture of the old man with his hand on the youth's thigh. He became quiet and thoughtful, although David hardly noticed because he was distracted by the attentions' of the two girls. When David did notice Tom's quietness he tapped out their rhythm on the table. It brought no reply so he tapped louder which startled Tom. "In deep sexual fantasy were we?" David nodded towards the girls. "No point anyway, not with your sunburn." Tom offered no reply, "OK, don't laugh then." David turned his attention to finishing his meal. "Maybe, we should have had the hay?" Tom said finally as he pushed a nearly full plate away from him. "I guess so. I'm not sure whether I've just eaten the steak or the charcoal. Still, it was warm and filling," David noticed Tom was now staring at the girls, even though he was not really seeing them. "Have you fallen in love?" "Don't be stupid," Tom looked back at his plate. "This is bloody awful!" The two men had just gotten up and Tom followed them out with his eyes. "Let's get the bill and go." "Sure you don't want to hang around a while and," David nodded with his head towards the girls, "...see what they're doing afterwards?" "No." A few minutes later they were walking along a corridor back to their room. David had enjoyed the attention of the girls and was jingling the keys around his fingers. Slightly behind him was Tom, a sullen look on his face. "Let's go to a restaurant, he says; eat some good food, he says; and what was it? Tom muttered. "Bloody awful!" they said together. David fumbled at the door and was pushed in as it opened. "And what about that waiter?" said Tom. "Anyway, what are you complaining about?" David changed the subject. "Didn't you just drive those girls crazy with your James Dean attitude and extreme good looks?" He walked over to Tom and ran his hands down his chest, "and your hunky body." Tom did not respond to this tease and turned away. He pulled a bottle of vodka from his rucksack and poured two large measures into glasses on the bedside cabinet. He handed one to David. "Drink this and shut up for once," David looked at his friend and watched him as he sat on the bed. Tom took a large drink from his glass, put it down and then picked up his guitar. He plucked randomly at the strings. David sensed that something was wrong and for a moment considered leaving his friend alone with his thoughts. Then emptied his glass and sat down next to Tom to refill it. "What's the matter? You've been kinda strange most of the night...well, stranger than usual." David almost began to apologise for his last comment, but it was Tom who spoke first. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am strange, odd, not right," Tom finished his drink and passed it to David to refill. "Or something like that." "Oh dear, now we're getting all serious. Well," he handed a full glass back, "drink this and then tell Uncle David all about it." David edged closer and put his arm on Tom's shoulder. "Remember, a trouble shared is a trouble doubled," David looked into his glass. "Or something like that." Tom shrugged his shoulders so that David's arm fell away, he turned slightly away and put his guitar down at the end of the bed. "Come on Tom," David was serious now, "what is it? Are you worried about your results, or about going off to Uni?" Tom did not reply and looked down. As he did David noticed that tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "You'll pass, don't worry. And as for Uni, that'll be no problem too, I shalln't be far away in London. We'll still see each other, maybe go on holiday again next year? What d'ya think? It hasn't been that bad this year has it?" David nudged Tom with his shoulder, almost losing his balance because of the drink. "David," Tom said quietly and still looked at the floor, "I'm scared." He lifted the glass to his mouth again. "Don't be," David interrupted, "I've told you." "No, listen to me," Tom lifted his head to face David and then emptied the glass of vodka. A tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm scared because..." a deep breath is summoned, "because I have feelings for you. Feelings that I think that sometimes I shouldn't have," the tear is wiped away. "Maybe I'm afraid of what I might do. Scared of what I'll become. Do you understand?" Tom could read the understanding in David's face. "You feel it too, don't you?" "Yes, I guess so," David glanced away and then back at Tom. "You think we might end up like those two men in the restaurant." Tom nodded his reply, "I didn't think that you'd noticed." "I noticed. But what's wrong with it? They were happy and they weren't hurting anybody else. How can it be wrong in a world so full of hate and fighting?" David placed his hands on Tom's. "What have we to be scared off," he continued, "the feelings that we have are ours, nobody else's. No one can take them away. We should share them." "But how?" "Do I need to spell out what I know you're already thinking?" David had become almost impatient. "Yes you do! Because it's wrong. It's not natural for us to feel this way!" Tom raised his voice. "Who says it's wrong?" David stayed calm. "Our friends, our families, our parents? The world? Well bollocks to them all. We don't need to be like those two in the restaurant. They're not us. Don't you see how special we are?" David squeezed Tom's hand. "We don't need to talk about it because we both know that the other is scared. We know each other too well, we share the same doubts and fears, but we can beat them. We've got to." Tom pulled his hand away and got up to walk over to the window. He stared out through his own reflection. "How can we? We can't even say the proper words to describe what we are?" "That's because we don't have to." "You mean that we are ashamed." "Are you ashamed Tom?" "I'm confused and I feel," Tom turned to look back at David, "...guilty." "Guilty! What on earth for!" "For all of this, for us. For what's happening now." "I've known you for a long time and," David grew impatient again, "that is one of the most stupid things you've ever said. And boy, you've said some stupid things! I really don't understand you sometimes." He walked over to Tom, "but I really want to this time." "Please believe me, it's all my fault," Tom sobbed and David pulled him to him. He tried to resist but David was too strong.. "Now stop it. None of it's your fault, we're both to blame. You have done nothing wrong," David whispered into his ear. "Yes, I must've because this has happened before," David drew back, as he felt a pang of, what he realised later, was jealousy. "Look, come and sit down," he led Tom to the bed and they sat next to each other with their heads against the wall. "Tell me about it." "Aren't you shocked?" "About what?" "Because this has happened before." "No, OK. Spill the beans." Tom sat up straighter and reached for the bottle of vodka. He took a swig. "Now I'm shocked," observed David as he forced a smile. Tom took a deep breath before he started. "Do you remember my Uncle Jim?" "Of course I do. We were always at his house during the summer until," David paused and frowned, "he died last year. Is that it? Are you upset about him somehow. I know you were close..." "Yes, we were close," Tom interrupted. "Very close." "What do you mean by that?" "I used to stay at his house at weekends," he spoke quietly and concentrated hard as the memories returned. "I'd just help him in the garden, or to clean his car...it was just after my thirteenth birthday. I can see him now, stood in the bedroom doorway, saying `goodnight' before he turned the light off. You know how it gets really dark when the light first goes off?" David nodded. "Well I couldn't see a thing, everything was black. Then I heard someone breathing close to me. The bed squeaked and rocked as he sat down next to me. I just held my breath and froze, I was too scared to move or speak. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I began to make out his face looking down at me. He was smiling as he moved to lay down along side me. I could feel the warmth of his body and smell the cigars on his breath." Tom smiled faintly for a moment, "I was wearing those horrible cotton stripped PJs." The smile disappeared. "He laid his hand on my chest and his fingers moved down my body. I could feel him pressing himself against my thigh, making slow rhythmic movements. I was holding my breath, wishing that I'd wake up or something. Then his hand reached my waistband, I could feel him trembling slightly and his breaths were short and shallow as his fingers dug under it. Then he reached inside and touched me..." "Bastard!" David shouted and startled Tom. "Bastard! How could he do that to you? He was your uncle for Christ's' sake. Bastard!" "No David, it wasn't like that," Tom stayed calm. "It was all my fault, I tempted him. I could've run away. I didn't. I could've tried to stop him. I didn't even try." "You were scared, it's not your fault," David's tone was now calm too. "You really don't understand David." "Why Tom, what is there to understand? Your uncle abused you." "No, don't you remember? I was there again the next summer. And why? Because I enjoyed it. When he finally touched me that first night I was turned on," he looked into David's eyes. "I'm sorry, but now it looks as if I'm doing the same to you." "I still don't accept that Tom. It wasn't your fault with your uncle. He abused you, he took advantage of you. I don't care what else you say," David pulled Tom towards him so that his head rested on his chest. "And as for me, I'm big enough to make up my own mind. I did what I did on the beach - I know that's what you're worrying about now - because I wanted to. Because you are my friend and because it felt like the right thing to do." David began to stroke Tom's hair and for a few minutes they just enjoyed the closeness. "Why did you never tell me this before?" David broke the silence. "Tell you!" Tom started to laugh. "Tell you that I was queer! Would've made for the shortest friendship in history." "No you're wrong. I would've helped you. I would've found a way," David leant down and used his hand to gently lift Tom's face towards his. "It wasn't your fault, and nor is this..." One small movement and their lips touched. At first the kiss was gentle, David was unsure how Tom might have reacted, but eventually the kiss was passionate. Next morning Tom was the first to wake up. Tom was lying on his side with his hand resting on David's bare chest inside his half-unfastened shirt. He propped himself up with his other arm whilst he stroked David's smooth chest with his free arm. Eventually the hand worked its gentle way along his neck onto his face. There his fingers traced around David's face, outlining his jaw and cheeks until the palm of his hand rested on his cheek. Tom stooped slightly and kissed David on the lips. "Thank you," he whispered, before he removed his hand and slipped himself off the bed. David still slept whilst Tom showered and changed. Finally, he packed his rucksack and placed it by the door before he returned to sit on the edge of the bed by David. He took hold of David's shoulders and gently shook him. "Come on wake up David," he shook him a little harder until he got a response. "What is it?" "Time to get up and leave," explained Tom. "Argh, my head hurts," David sat up slowly. "Go and shower, everything will be OK then," Tom pulled David to the floor and pushed him towards the bathroom. "I'll pack your bag and leave you some fresh clothes, OK?" "Fine, fine. Whatever?" David shook his head and gave a dismissive wave. Tiredness took over as they completed their journey back to England and little was said. On the train back from Dover they found themselves in a compartment alone and home quickly approached. Tom began to collect his things together. "I think that I'll get off at Eastleigh," said Tom. "No don't, wait until Westleigh. I'm sure that Mum'll give you a lift home," replied David. "It's OK, I think that it'll be for the best." "What do you mean `for the best'?" asked David. "The best for us," Tom sat down next to David. "I've been thinking since that last night in the hotel. Thankyou David for listening to me and for not judging me, but I think that we went a little too far." "We didn't do anything wrong," a worried look appeared on David's face. "No, but we might've had we not been so drunk," he slipped his hand onto David's thigh and patted it softly. "I'm still scared and confused. I don't want to lose our friendship. You do know that, don't you?" David nodded. "But I have this voice in my head which keeps saying: `be safe, don't get too close, don't get hurt'. What can I do? If I stay I'll end up sad, or mad or worse," he took his hand away. "Or gay." It took a moment for what Tom had just say to sink in. "We'll get over it. One day we'll grow up; grow out of what we feel and just be mates again," David felt a sense of panic develop. "Our friendship means too much, we've been through too much. Known each other for too long." "That's where you are wrong David. I can't just grow out of the way I feel for you. That's why I've decided that once we get back it'll be best if we don't see each other for a while. We'll be at different Universities anyway, but we can write and maybe next summer we might be able to cope with our feelings." "And what if nothing's changed?" "You know that it's for the best," Tom refused to answer the question. "Are you sure?" David reached for Tom's hand, but Tom pulled away and stood up. "Yes, I'm sure. We've come a long way. Now we need to step back," he sat down on the seat opposite. "Let's not lose ourselves." He turned and looked out of the window. A few minutes later the train began to slow as it approached Tom's station. He stood up and picked up his things. "I'll see you sometime then?" Tears welled in David's eyes as he spoke. "Yes, sometime," replied Tom before he left the compartment. David got up and went to the window. On the platform he saw Tom and he tapped out their rhythm on the glass. Tom turned away and walked to the exit. It was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do, but Tom believed it was for the best. David sank back into the seat beside him, tears freely falling down his cheeks. Copyright 1996 John Williams