Date: Tue, 30 Jan 2024 07:10:42 +0000
From: Jonah
Subject: Harrovian Life  chapter 8

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 8

Eight o' clock in the morning didn't bring much in the way of daylight.
The rain drummed on the window panes and cills.  The curtains stayed firmly
shut and the light stayed on.  Once everybody was showered and dressed I
resigned myself to a second shower.  Just because the weather was
inclement, did not mean that it would be acceptable for Flash to stay
indoors all day.  I filled my pocket with plastic bags and hitched the
hound to his lead.

As I left the flat, suitably wrapped up against the weather, Peter and
Garret were also putting on outdoor wear.  Garret was driving to Northwick
Park with the intention of bringing Adam home.  Having exercised the
retriever I returned to an empty flat.  I made beds and reset the central
heating timer to continuous, just for today.

A little light housekeeping (not to be confused with a little
lighthouse-keeping) brought the time to nearly eleven and it dawned on me
that the boys were not going to be home much before lunchtime. I boiled up
some carrots and made the basis of a good carrot and coriander soup, which
I left simmering over an ultra-low heat.I broke out some bread-rolls and
lunch was ready to be consumed at whatever time it was required.

I was surprised by the doorbell, since it was certain that the boys would
simply enter.  Waiting on the mat was a young blonde lady of somewhere in
her mid twenties.

"Mr. Cummings?" she enquired tentatively.

"Indeed," I replied.

"Dana Kilburn, Mr. Cummings, I'm a case worker for Social Services.  Mrs.
Hoylake says you 'd like us to help with your grandson."

"Yes, I did tell her that," I replied.  "Look - come in."

"I understand your grandson is in hospital?"

"Yes, but I'm expecting him home any time now."

"Oh!  Mrs. Hoylake said she thought he was on suicide watch."

"He was, but no longer.  However, since he has been abducted from school
and sexually abused, it may be that he needs some sort of counselling."

"Was he abused by a family member?"

"It's not for me to comment on who abused him, since the trial hasn't taken
place but, no, none of my family are remotely related to the man that the
police have arrested."

"I'm sorry Mr. Cummings, I had to ask.  It's just that in eighty per cent
of cases of abuse of minors, the perpetrator is a family member."

"Ms. Kilburn, Adam is ten years old and small for his age.  With the best
will in the world, he would struggle to be eighty per cent of cases."

"Dana, please Mr. Cummings.  I didn't mean to imply...."

"Dana, I don't see how you can not mean to imply it.  It's your job to deal
with facts.  Please try not to be too disappointed that this case doesn't
fit them."

"If it's all the same to you Mr. Cummings I think we'd better start again."

"Dana, please call me Jonah.  We've known each other for more than a minute
now.  It seems silly, you calling me Mr. Cummings all the time."

Dana giggled.

"I'm sorry Jonah."  she said when she had recovered.  "Can you tell I'm not
very good at this?"

"It's alright Dana.  You've got a good idea except that my sons will be
bringing Adam home from hospital any time now and the last thing he needs
is to find me giving his life history to a stranger.  He'll need to get to
know you but, probably not the moment he gets home."

"I should have rung to tell you I was coming."

"In eighty per cent of cases, that would have been a bad idea," I reminded
her.

She ignored the dig.

""Would you like me to make an appointment to see you on Thurday morning?"
she asked.

"Yes, that would give us a chance to tell Adam you're coming, so you can
meet him at the same time."

"I'd better go then."

"Yes, but thanks for coming, and I'll look forward to seeing you on
Thursday."

It was another ten minutes before Garret came in, leading a procession in
the van of which...

"That's it cock, up the jolly old apples - you can do it.  I know you feel
weak, but that'll pass once Joanie gets some sustenance into you."

Billy was shepherding Adam from behind but there were some things I was not
going to stand for.

"Right Mildred," I told him.  "You can stop right there and get out of my
flat.  It was bad enough you doing that in hospital, but you work there.  I
don't have to tolerate it here."

There was silence.  Billy looked stupefied.  It took him a few seconds to
find his tongue.

"Look Squire, you know I don't mean anything by it..."

"If it doesn't mean anything, it won't hurt you to cut it out," I replied.

I saw Adam run to the settee and bury his face in the cushion.

"Now see what you've done," I said evenly.

He took a step toward the boy but I checked him.

"Out," I said firmly.  "We'll look after Adam now."

He stood in silence, looking from me to Adam for a few seconds then seemed
to make up his mind.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Then go and talk to Adam," I whispered back.

Peter took a step toward me.

"Sorry about that," he muttered.

"No you're not," I replied, "but Billy is.  Soup for lunch, and I presume
Billy's staying for some."

"I think he'd like that."

"It'll give him a chance to start afresh," I remarked.  "Hopefully he won't
make the same mistake twice."

"He insisted on coming with us, he said.  "In a way, I'm glad."

"Me too, if he can learn not to be so cheeky, but I think the hospital will
want him back They don't normally do house calls."

"I'll get some soup served up," he said.  "we'll eat at the counter.  I
don't want Adam scalding himself the moment he gets home."

"Fair enough," I replied.  "I'm off upstairs.  I've got a phone call to
make anyway."

Upstairs in my bedroom I immediately put in a call to Northwick Park and
asked if Mrs. Coleman was available.

"Would you be Mr. Cummings?" asked the receptionist.

"For the right price I'd be anyone you wished," I replied, "but I am,
currently, Mr. Cummings."

"I'll put you through," said the receptionist.  "She's expecting a call
from you."

"Coleman!" said a different voice.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Coleman.  I expect...."

"Ah Mr. Cummings" she interrupted. " I thought you'd be calling and, by the
way, I can't do anything about it."

"So how long is he here for?"

"Probably till the sea yields up its deaf."

"Its dead."

"What is?"

"Until the sea yields up its.... oh never mind.  You were only checking
that I was paying attention weren't you?"

"Yes, I do that with all my patients."

"I'm not your patient Mrs. Coleman."

"Not yet, but you have Billy Goodman under your roof, so it's only a matter
of time."

It was different talking to her on the telephone.  Face to face you only
noticed slightly schoolmarmish, received English but, on the phone, I could
detect a Northern Irish brogue.

"So, how long Mrs. Coleman?"

"Wouldn't it be better to ask him?"

"Now come on.  You know him.  You know how much good that would do."

"Mr. Cummings, I can only refer to the rules.  The rules say he shouldn't
be there at all so now I'm flying blind.  He formed an attachment to one of
his patients and now, heaven knows what will happen.  It's outside my
experience."

"You're saying I should kick him out and send him back to the hospital?"

"Mr. Cummings, if you decide to do that, be sure to tell me about it before
you do.  I wouldn't want to miss that."

I heaved a sigh.  All this conversation was going to get me was a headache.

"Then I suppose there's nothing I can do," I said.  "Thank you for your
help Mrs. Coleman."

They'd probably have finished lunch so there'd be enough space at the
counter for me to get mine.  I never found out because there was a
tentative knock on the bedroom door.

"Come!"  I called.

A head appeared around the door.  It bore a curly mop of dark hair and it's
face, though obviously designed for a cheeky grin, showed concern.

"Billy, you're a psychiatric nurse," I said.  "Do you understand the
importance of body language?"

"Course I do."

"Then stop hiding most of you behind the door."

He came in.

"Have a seat," I told him.

The bed was the only place to sit, so he sat next to me.

"How old are you Billy?"

"Twenty-four."

He didn't look more than eighteen.

"And do you enjoy your job?"

"Mostly."

"I see, because Mrs. Coleman says I'm to kick you out and send you back to
the hospital - if you want to keep your job, that is."

"She didn't say that."

"No.  What she actually said was that, if I decided to do it, she wants to
be here to watch."

"I just want to know that Adam's alright."

"I know, but it isn't your job to want that.  In fact you can get in
trouble for it.  Billy, I want to thank you for the time and effort you've
put in for Adam.  You've helped him find the courage and the will to live.
that was your job, but I still want to thank you for doing it.  Becoming
infatuated with him isn't your job though.  That's a private thing between
you and him, and the hospital won't like it.  Do you know why?"

"Because they tell us not to become attached to our patients."

"They do.  Do you know why?"

"They like us to do as we're told."

"I'd like that, but it isn't going to happen is it?  No that's not the
reason.  Billy, you've helped Adam find the will to live, but if that will
is based on an infatuation - you for him, or him for you - it won't be very
strong.  If anything happens to separate you two - and, sooner or later, it
will - he'll be right back where he started, only worse.  It'll be worse
because, having climbed out of his depression and then crashed again, he'll
know that any recovery he makes is only temporary.  What do you think will
happen then?"

His handsome face was drained of all colour.

"I thought I was helping him."

"You were - you have, but you're not finished yet by a long way."

"So what now."

"I'm going to kick you out in a little while.  Go home Billy, and think
about what I've just told you.  I expect to see you back here tomorrow
afternoon.  Tomorrow morning, you're back at the hospital, and you need to
talk to Mrs. Coleman.  You need her help and her advice.  After dinner you
can come back here and tell me what she said.  Now go and say goodnight to
Adam - you've got ten minutes to do it."

""Thank you Jonah," he said, almost inaudibly.  He departed my room a
sadder, but a wiser, man.

Garret made Lamb chops with carrots, broccolli and mash for dinner, after
which the television went on.  Adam was curled up on his father's lap and,
for a large part of the evening, simply slept.