The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (23 page)

Autumn turned to winter amid the
excitement of the Sputnik and there were as usual fewer
opportunities for sex as it became too wet and cold to visit the
den, and as the darker nights closed in, bike rides ceased. But at
half term, again in some of the Christmas holidays and in the
miserable half term in winter, they made use of Daniel's room
whenever they could. Otherwise they would just enjoy being
together, knowing each other so well, doing homework in Daniel's
room straight after school most nights ("Get's it over with," said
Daniel. Simon agreed.) and playing on the piano. Simon's ability to
pick out tunes by ear improved, but of course this was nothing
compared to Daniel's increasing mastery of that great machine. He
had passed all his piano exams so far with flying colours.

"Can you come to church this
Sunday?" Daniel's eyes begged for a yes.

"It's not a Church Parade is
it?" asked Simon, puzzled.

"No, but I'm going to be Altar
Boy. It's a great honour and I want you to see me."

Simon had seen these robed
priest's helpers on his visits to church before, but now Daniel was
going to be one!

"Course I will. Wouldn't miss it
for anything. Don't drop the wine though," he smiled. "Or have a
sly swig."

Daniel's reply was a sharp dig
in the ribs. "My parents will be there so you can sit with them
again if you want."

On that Sunday, Simon, dressed
in school long grey trousers and white shirt, watched entranced as
Daniel who was wearing a long white robe – Daniel said it was
called an alb – prepared the communion and the altar. During the
service Simon kept looking at his friend, sitting at one side
behind the altar rail on that sacred ground, imbued in his mind
with the reflected majesty of the priesthood and of the
Eucharist.

After the communion prayers
Daniel received the bread and wine directly from the Vicar even
before the choir. Then with the congregation, Simon went up to the
rail and knelt for the Vicar's blessing. He saw that Daniel was
taking the wine, which the altar boy sometimes did. He was aware of
Daniel's closeness as he followed the Vicar along the rail with the
chalice. The vicar reached Simon, and placing his hand on Simon's
bowed head, said "The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make
his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up
his countenance upon you and give you peace" and then moved on.
Simon felt that warm glow of peace he always did. He saw Daniel's
white robe stop in front of him and looked up into Daniel's
eyes.

"The blood of Christ keep you in
eternal life," said Daniel, pleading on his face and offering Simon
the chalice. By this time the Vicar was about four people further
along. Simon put his lips to the rim of the silver chalice and
sipped the wine. It was strong and dark tasting, and sent a warm
glow through him. Daniel smiled, wiped the edge of the chalice with
his cloth and moved on. Simon stayed at the rail, savouring the
moment, his friend's closeness and new status. Mrs Gray nudged
Simon so he had to leave. Back in the pew he watched Daniel as he
continued to follow the Vicar offering the wine.

"Daniel shouldn't really have
offered you the wine," whispered Mrs Gray. "It's not like him to
forget that."

Simon knew perfectly well that
it had been no error on Daniel's part.

After the service, he waited for
Daniel, who had to clear the altar and put things away.

"Why did you do that?" asked
Simon as they walked home.

"The wine?"

"Yes. Your Mum said you weren't
supposed to because I'm not confirmed."

"I know, but I so wanted to give
you the wine. I told the Vicar I had got muddled because it was my
first time."

"Were you in trouble?"

"Not really, he just said I
should be more observant next time."

"I'm glad there'll be a next
time, then. You've not been banned?"

"No, it's OK. I won't be able to
get away with it again though."

"I'm glad you did this time. It
felt so special to me with it being you holding the cup."

"That was the plan," laughed
Daniel. "I knew you'd like it. I wanted to say the words to
you."

"I wish it had been you giving
me the blessing," joked Simon.

"Kneel down," said Daniel. They
were in the grassy area near the footbridge over the stream. Simon
knelt on the grass.

Placing his hand on Simon's
head, Daniel said solemnly, "Simon, The Lord bless you and keep
you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to
you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you
peace."

"Amen," replied Simon, tears of
overwhelming emotion in his eyes, and looked at Daniel's face.

Daniel smiled. "Come on, idiot,"
he said as Simon stood up. "I can see that meant a lot to you."

Simon could only nod his
head.

"To me too, Simon," said Daniel,
risking a quick hug as they walked on.

Over forty years later when
Simon was offered the chance to perform the same function at
church, to be a server, he jumped at the chance.

1. 1958/4
   Fielding
   

Simon covered his ears. He could
not bear the shouting. Mum and Dad were arguing again, and Frances
with all the righteousness of her sixteen years, was joining in.
Simon didn't know what the argument was about this time, and it
didn't really matter. It was always the same. He stayed in his
room, wondering if he could get out of the house without being
spotted and possibly drawn in.

The shouting subsided and he
heard footsteps on the stairs. Simon was suddenly fearful that it
would be Dad, but when his bedroom door opened, it was Frances.

"Are you all right?" she asked.
She looked kindly at her little brother. He seemed younger than his
eleven years and she could see he was upset.

"Yes, I suppose so," said Simon.
"Is it safe to go down yet?"

"I would just stay here, if I
were you," said Frances.

"Not doing that," said Simon, "I
just want to get out."

"I'll come down with you,
then."

Brother and sister went out on
to the landing. Frances peered over the banister. The noise had
subsided. Frances led the way down the stairs. Just as they got to
the bottom, Dad came out of the dining room, red faced and angry
looking.

"What have you two been up to,"
he snapped.

"Just talking," said Frances,
defensively, a nuance that did not escape Dad.

"Talking? Talking about what?"
Dad demanded irritably.

"Just things," said Simon,
wanting to support his sister.

"Answer me properly, Simon,"
barked Dad, grabbing Simon by the arm. "What kind of things?"

Simon turned to Frances for
support. He thought this was the prelude to a beating.

"Dad, it's nothing," she
said

"I'll decide whether it's
nothing or something."

"Harry, what's going on?" came
Mum's voice as she entered the hallway.

"This boy's being cheeky again,
answering back," said Dad, and shook Simon who put up his hand to
defend a possible blow.

"What!" shouted Dad. "You would
try to strike me?" He roughly pulled Simon round the better to aim
a retaliation against the strike that never was.

"Harry! Stop it!" snapped
Mum.

"It really isn't fair, Dad,"
said Frances. "He's not done anything."

Faced with this from his wife
and teenage daughter, not to mention Simon's growing size and
strength, Dad released his grip on Simon.

"You had better be very careful,
my lad," said Dad, and he turned back into the dining room.

"You all right, love?" said
Mum.

Simon nodded, shaken, and
breathing quickly with subsiding fear.

"I'm going out," he said. He
grabbed his jacket off the hall pegs and went back through the
kitchen and out of the back door. He wasn't sure where he was
going. He thought of getting his bike out but decided on a quick
getaway. Unthinkingly, he walked round the corner to Daniel's
house, his refuge in times of trouble. Daniel knew about the rows
at home. There had been one occasion with huge embarrassment when
Daniel on one of his rare visits to Simon's home witnessed a family
row. Simon was so ashamed that Daniel saw it and he rushed off to
escape. Daniel followed and was so understanding.

As he walked along beside the
privet hedge, he heard Daniel's voice. But when he reached the
gates, he saw Daniel on his driveway talking to two other boys,
Fielding and Richardson, who were standing astride their bicycles.
Simon hated them. They were both at Victoria Road, and they hated
Hooray Henrys. Fielding especially was a bully, and Richardson was
his sidekick. But Daniel knew them, they were a bit older than him.
Simon stood for a moment at the gate, wondering why Daniel was
talking to them and hesitating now to go in. The three became
conscious of his presence.

"Fuck off, you," said
Fielding.

Before anything else could be
said, Simon turned and walked on, past Daniel's house. He went into
the allotments. There was nobody about. He was at a loose end now,
he had wanted to be with Daniel to find some feeling of comfort
after the row at home, but Fielding had put paid to that. He sat
for a few moments, wondering where he might go. The Parade? But he
had no money. For want of anything better, he got up and started
down the allotments towards the den.

"Simple Simon!" came the
catcall. Simon turned to see Fielding and Richardson coming up on
their bikes along the allotment path. Before Simon could think of
evasive action, they were there.

"What do you want?" said Simon.
Fielding thrust his face towards Simon. His face always seemed
dirty, thought Simon. He had a scar on his left cheek which Simon
supposed was from a fight. The two had dropped their bikes.

"This!" said Fielding, as he
suddenly punched Simon in the gut, catching him unawares.

"Ah! What was that for?"

"We're going to beat you up,"
said Fielding.

"What for?" groaned Simon, still
partly doubled up.

"Because we can," gloated
Richardson.

"I don't like kids who listen to
my conversations," said Fielding.

"I wasn't listening," Simon
tried to explain.

"Fibbing as well. I'm going to
knock your block off," said Fielding. Then the two were punching
Simon, raining blows on his body. He tried to move out of the way,
but to no effect. Simon's face exploded with pain as his nose took
a hard punch from Fielding and there was blood streaming down his
face, onto his jacket. Suddenly Fielding jerked backwards and was
spun round. Daniel stood facing Fielding, his stance displaying
complete readiness to take him on, even though Fielding was perhaps
a good inch or more taller.

"Leave him alone, Fielding,"
said Daniel resolutely. But Daniel had that inner steadfastness
that Simon admired so much and that Fielding and Richardson, like
all bullies, feared. Fielding knew that if he took on Daniel, he
and Richardson against Daniel and Simon, they might well win, but
the cost would be too great.

"Yeah, well. He's had his lesson
now," said Fielding, unconsciously but revealingly taking a step
back.

"Just go then," said Daniel,
unmoving.

"Just coz your Dad's a copper,"
said Fielding. "Come on, let's go," he added to Richardson.

"That's nothing to do with it,"
said Daniel, "and you know it!"

The two bullies moved off as
Daniel came to where Simon was now sitting on the grass next to the
path.

"Look after your little friend!"
called Fielding sarcastically from a safer distance.

"What does he mean by that?"
asked Simon, worried that their precious secret might be out.

Daniel of course understood.
"Nothing like that," he said reassuringly. "Come on, I'll take you
home."

"No," said Simon. "They've been
shouting and arguing again."

"OK," said Daniel, "I'll take
you to mine."

The two friends moved off back
along the path having first made sure that Fielding and Richardson
were gone.

"Why were they beating you up?"
asked Daniel.

"Does Fielding need a reason?"
replied Simon bitterly. "They said I had been listening to you
talking to them."

"That's rubbish," said
Daniel.

"Why were you talking to them
anyway?" asked Simon. "They're not your friends are they?"

"No. It's sort of
complicated."

When they got back to Daniel's
house, they went to the kitchen.

"Sit down," said Daniel, as he
turned on the tap. He went to the cupboard and came back with
cotton wool. Simon's nose was still bleeding a bit and his face and
front were blood streaked.

"What happened to you?" said
Louise, Daniel's sister, coming into the kitchen and seeing
Simon.

"Fielding," explained Daniel,
gently wiping Simon's face with damp cotton wool.

"That oik," said Louise, "Really
Daniel, I don't know why you bother helping him. Can you
manage?"

"Yes," said Daniel, "Basic first
aid."

"Regular Boy Scout," said Louise
as she left the kitchen. Daniel finished cleaning Simon's face.

"There, all looks normal again,"
said Daniel, smiling. Simon didn't think it felt normal, His nose
still hurt.

"Is my nose swollen?" he asked.
Daniel looked and considered for a moment.

"No," he said, laughing, "you're
just as ugly as usual."

Simon grinned back. Daniel
cupped Simon's jaw in his hands and moved close so his forehead
rested against Simon's. For a few seconds, the two remained still,
in unspoken communion. Daniel stood back.

"How are you helping Fielding?"
asked Simon, baffled. Then a disturbing thought occurred to him.
"You're not… It's not like with him, like with us, is it?"