Date: Thu, 01 Feb 2024 09:39:38 +0000
From: Jonah
Subject: Harrovian Life  chapter 10

Harrovian Life
by Jonah

It is a few years now since Nifty carried the story "A letter from
America".  A good few stories have succeded it and the action has moved
about a bit too.  In this one it is firmly back with Jonah in Harrow, but
some twenty years later.  Simon, Peter and Luke have grown up and in some
cases have children of their own.  This story comes immediately after
"Whiteout".  It is a work of fiction in every sense so, if you think you
recognise yourself, or somebody else, in here - you don't. At least one of
the characters was originally the creation of another author.  I'd like to
thank Jacob Lion, in the USA, for permission to use his characters.  The
story is about love - the real sort - so if you're looking for pornography,
you'd best look elsewhere.  Nifty doesn't charge either you or I to publish
these stories, but it does cost money to publish them.  Please consider
donating to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/ so that he can keep these
stories coming.

Chapter 10

Peter had won his case at the old Bailey, but I still had to get up to
ensure that Billy departed for Northwick Park.  I just read over that
sentence again.  It seems a lot easier reading it than it was doing it.

As a male homosexual, of course, I should have felt priviledged, having
such a hunk under my roof.  Alright Peter and Garret weren't bad, and Adam
- well I was no paedophile but, one day, his blue eyes and button nose, his
pale skin crowned by his shock of almost black hair, one day they would be
breaking hearts.

"Grandad."

I should have known it wouldn't be long before he was up.  On a schoolday
you'd have to call him five or six times.  Now that school wasn't in
prospect, you didn't have to call him at all.

"What Sport?"

"What are we doing today?"

"Well, I thought, since you're so impatient, I could send you back to
school."

The smile disappeared.

"That's not funny Grandad."

"I thought it wasn't.  What made you think it was meant to be funny?"

"I don't like school.  I don't want to go to school ever again."

"Really?  Why not?"

That was apparently the end of the conversation.  I had turned my back in
order to continue stirring the porridge but, when I turned round again , I
was alone.

I poured out a couple of bowls of porridge then, while I left them to cool,
I tiptoed back upstairs.  He had put himself back in bed with his father -
at least, there was a lump in the duvet that suggested he had done that.
His head wasn't visible until I turned down the duvet and gently turned his
head.

He shook his head free.

"Go away.  I don't like you!"

That woke his father.

"Adam, don't be rude to your grandad." he said sternly.

I placed an arm around the boy's shoulders and held him firmly against his
attempts to break free.  Resting my cheek againt his hair, I said,

"Oh, he wasn't being rude, were you Adam?  Offensive, yes. - aggressive,
angry, but certainly not rude."

"I don't care what he was being," said Peter.  "he's not speaking like that
to someone who loves him and is trying to look out for him."

One advantage of having my cheek against the top of Adam's head was that I
didn't need to pretend not to see the tears.  I could feel them dripping on
my arm, but he couldn't see that either.

Very quietly I whispered to Adam,

"We need to talk Adam, but not now.  Your breakfast is ready downstairs.
Go and get it before your dad opens his eyes."

If Peter heard that, he had the sense to keep his eyes shut while his son
fled.

"I suppose I'd do better not to ask what that was all about," he said.

"You can ask if you like," I told him.

"Hmmm!" was his only reply to that.

I met Garret on the landing, complete with dressing gown.

"Morning Garret," I said cheerfully.  "Got plans for today.

"Yes, shower then breakfast," he replied.

"For a Thursday, that'll be a short day.," I remarked.  "You might have
time for more than that."

"Good," he replied, "because I'm meeting George Butler for morning coffee
at half ten, then we're both going to pop down and have a chat with Adam's
headmistress."

"Do the police know you're doing that?" I queried.

"The school isn't being investigated by the police," he replied.
"Depending on what we discover the board might need to call in the police,
but I rather hope not.  We certainly don't want to discuss the court-case
with her.  That's none of her business."

"She tried to make it her business."

"I know - George has told her to pack it in. Have you heard anything from
her since?"

I had to say that I had not.

"Good," said Garret.  "She's probably doing as she's told."

"Are you back for lunch?" I asked.

"Best assume not.  I'll probably lunch with George after we've talked to
Mrs. Manners."

I left him to shower while I poured more porridge.

"I'm sorry Grandad," said Adam as soon as I got downstairs.

"So am I Adam," I told him.  "I was trying to make you talk about something
you don't want to and I'm sorry.  You know I only did it because I love
you, don't you?"

"Daddy loves me too, and so does Uncle Garret, and uncle Luke, and Uncle
Simon.  Steve said he loved me too, but he told me not to tell you about
that."

"Yes, he would," I remarked.  "Adam, Steve might have thought he loved you.
He probably doesn't know what love is, but he hurt you.  You don't do that
to someone you love.  What Steve did was very bad.  When he came here and
tried to make you take the blame - that was bad too.  Was that why you
tried to hurt yourself with the carving knife?"

The boy looked stricken.  Had I gone too far?

"I wanted to be dead," he eventually said.

"Yes, I know," I told him, "but I'm glad you're not."

"Morning Boss!  How's the heartthrob of Rayners Lane?"said an immaculately
turned out Garret.

"Porridge," I told him, nodding towards the counter.

"Thanks Jonah," he returned.  "I'll be out of your hair in a few ticks.  I
don't want to be late for George - particularly since parking in Pinner can
be purgatory on a Thursday."

"Hi Uncle Garret,"said Adam.

"Hi yourself champ," said Garret, ruffling the boy's hair.

Garret wolfed down his breakfast and was gone.  Peter eventually appeared
to eat his breakfast.

"Paddington and Liverpool Street this morning," he told me. " That's where
Adam is taking his trainspotting book.  Want to come Jonah?"

I noted the rapturous smile that had lit up Adam's handsome features, but I
was not a free agent in this.

"I've got to meet Dana at eleven," I told him.  "Are you two planning on
being back for lunch?"

"Better assume not," replied Peter.  "We'll get something out."

"Fair enough, I'll see you both this evening."

Peter ate his breakfast and then the pair of them departed.  The flat was
quiet.  I slipped the dog's lead onto his collar and took him for a walk
along to the Greenway, a drive off of Rayners Lane where a grassy park was
fringed with posh houses.  Here Geoff and Susan Porter had brought up Sammy
and Jason (their adopted son.  I didn't know who lived in that house now.
Geoff and Susan had moved to Stanmore and Sammy was a shift commander at
Euston Fire Station.  He had a flat in Camden (I had never visited it but
Peter had).  Jason was living in Chantilly VA and flying airliners out of
Dulles.  His brother was my landlord and kept the shop below my flat.

Flash did his business, and waited patiently while I collected everything
in plastic bags.  He rejoiced that he was being so productive and giving me
plenty to take to the dog-bin.

I didn't go immediately back to the flat but popped in at the betting shop
downstairs.  James Dorridge, and his assistant, Toby, were always glad to
look after Flash if ever I was going out anywhere.  If I was out for more
than a day, James would take the dog home with him.  I didn't believe it
was fair to leave a dog on its own and wouldn't have had one without an
arrangement like that.  Apart from the fact that they were both animal
lovers, I think James and Toby also liked their customers to see Flash
about the place.  Ne'er-do-wells are apt to be circumspect if they think
there is a dog on the premises.

With Flash taken care of I headed for the Social Security office, opposite
Harrow and Wealdstone station.  Dana and I were headed for Northwick Park
to talk to Mrs. Coleman.  I didn't k now whether that would be possible
without an appointment but, to my surprise, the lady immediately placed
herself at our disposal.

"Has there been any further progress with Adam," she wanted to know.  "I
have my spy, as you know, but he doesn't tell me anything."

"Well, I don't know whether it's progress or not." I replied.  "He's been
unable to remember why he was in hospital, or claiming to be, but this
morning I very unwisely pushed him too far.  There were tears on both
sides, and an apology on both sides but he admitted that he had wanted to
kill himself."

"What did you do then?" Mrs. Coleman wanted to know.

"Told him I was glad he failed, but that was the end of the conversation
because his uncle came in."

"Hmmm! well that's good and bad.  If he admits to attempting suicide, it
enables us to deal with it, but it means that we have got to deal with it."

"Mrs. Coleman," Dana finally decided to join the fray.  "I need to know,
considering Adam's state of mind, is he at risk if he stays where he is."

Mrs. Coleman smiled sweetly.

"My dear young lady, " she said, "two nights ago Adam was here in hospital.
He would still be in hospital if I considered that sending him home would
place him at risk."

"Mr's Coleman, I didn't mean...."

"Don't tell me what you didn't mean," Mrs. Coleman interrupted.  "I need to
know what you did mean.  I haven't time to waste answering questions you
didn't mean to ask."

 "Mrs. Coleman," Dana had begun raising her voice to overcome
Mrs. Coleman's interruptions - a very unwise proceedure, "I have concerns
and I need to know that they are unjustified.  Is Adam safe where he is?"

"A great deal safer than he would be anywhere you could move him to. "

"Even though he has already been sexually assaulted, has been allowed to
attempt suicide, and is living with a male single parent, a known
homosexual and an uncle who is married to another man?"

"My dear, your prejuduces are showing.  Concern is an admirable thing when
it is rational but, I have to say, your display of it is irrational and
somewhat worrying.  Fortunately, you are in the right place.  Mr Cummings,
could you ask Connor and Billy to step in here please?  My dear, you'll
like our hydro-room.  Normally we would put long-term patients in there for
an hour or more, but you are in need of the short-sharp-shock treatment.  A
ten minute bath and a session of electro-therapy followed by an hour of
sensory deprivation should enable more rational responses to be grafted.
By this afternoon we can have you fit for the responsible job that you have
chosen for yourself."

Dana had seen her danger too late.

"Jonah, help me.  Don't let her..."

"Mr. Cummings..."

"Connor AND Billy?"

"Yes please Mr Cummings."

I opened the door but was flattened against the doorpost as Dana flew past
me.  I just caught a glimpse of the lady disappearing around the far corner
of the corridor.

I closed the door and looked at Mrs. Coleman.  We both broke out in
laughter simultaneously.  As soon as we regained control of ourselves
Mrs. Coleman pointed to her telephone.

"You need to have a conversation with Mrs. Hoylake, and sooner, rather than
later."

I lifted the receiver and asked the hospital switchboard to put me through.

"Harrow Social Services, Veronica Hoylake speaking."

"Mrs. Hoylake, it's Jonah Cummings. Something very worrying has just
happened."

"Oh dear! Is Alan alright?"

 "Mrs. Hoylake, ADAM is fine.  I can't say the same for Miss Kilburn.  I'm
at Northwick Park Hospital and Miss Kilburn just left here in considerable
mental anguish, shouting incoherently about gay men and electric shock
treatment, and all sorts of things I couldn't interpret.  The duty
psychiatrist says she just ran from the room but was showing signs of
stress related schizophrenia.  Mrs. Hoylake, has Miss Kilburn been
associated with any really distressing cases recently?"

"Well social workers are always..."

"Yes, but recently, and this would be unusually distressing.  Not what
social workers usually face."

"Yes, I believe so.  I'm not allowed to give details you understand."

"Indeed I do Mrs. Hoylake.  Miss Kilburn ought to be admitted to a nursing
home at once, but I suppose, if she got complete rest, she would recover in
a week or so.  She must be kept away from all casework though, no matter
how she argues.  The psychiatrist tells me that patients with this kind of
disorder can be very cunning.  She'll do anything to get you to let her
keep working, including trying to shift the blame to others. "

"Never fear, Mr.  Cummings.  I have a plan.  You can leave it with me."

I replaced the receiver and looked at Mrs. Coleman.

"You'll never get into Heaven, Mr. Cummings," she commented.

"Oh yes I will Mrs. Coleman, and I expect to see you there."

"Your lift has just disappeared."

"Sadly, yes."

"Never mind, grab a cup of tea. By the time you've drunk it, Billy will be
ready to give you a lift home.  Connor's on now anyway."

Billy did exactly that.  Billy was a good driver, even if he did, on
several occasions, mistake my right knee for the gear-shift.  On one
occasion it wasn't my knee.

Billy was an extremely personable young man, so I didn't mind.