Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
This is a very long tale. It unfolds over a good number of years. What is true, is true: what is not is otherwise.
ALADDIN'S AWAKENING
By
Joel
Chapter 42
Summer Term 1945
April - August
I had to scrabble around frantically with school starting on Wednesday the eleventh of April to get all the holiday homework done. Luckily, Flea and Lachs had a joint interest in tennis and disappeared off to practise leaving me to slog away at German and French translations, Latin unseens, surds and quadratic equations and the Geography of North America. Of course, Tom and Matt were constant visitors and although Tom would have preferred to practise his tennis skills he did buckle down to work and we three revised all sorts of things together. Mrs Tring had wisely not entered me for the piano exam saying I could wait until Christmas. Get the School Cert exams out of the way first.
It was during gaps in our revision that I got the full story, or stories, of what happened on the Fensham trip. Matt had bunked in with Andy Symes and Tom with Tom Rankin who was Captain of the First XV. I heard that Mike had been there with Jamie Gould and the other twelve were evenly divided between the Catholic school members and boys from our school. Neither Tom nor Matt had news of what had transpired with the two sets of six but both had enjoyed the company of their roommates. I knew Matt and Andy had indulged before but the two Toms was a new pairing. I knew Tom Rankin had been quite pally with Dunc - a common Scottish heritage helped I assumed - but Tom was well-liked in school and even I acknowledged he had shown himself to be a fair and just Prefect in my dealings with those mighty beasts of control.
Like Matt the year before with Dunc, Tom's interaction with Tom Rankin happened through the application of liniment. This time young Tom did not coat the older Tom's balls but 'inadvertently', according to him, when rubbing the smelly unguent into his own thighs, had elbowed the passing elder Tom and had brushed his pendant tool with his elbow which, according to Tom had risen 'of its own accord'. He did admit at sight of this so did his! Young Tom's eyes had popped, so he said, as old Tom was exceedingly well-built. I took this to mean his was bigger than his brother Duncan's measly five inches. In fact, I got the compliment that Tom Rankin's tool matched mine. As Tom was rapidly approaching eighteen, if not already that, I thought perhaps I might have a bit more growing to do! The rest was quite banal. Both lads eye other lad's erect cock. Younger lad takes initiative and wanks older lad who immediately reciprocates. What, perhaps, was not so banal in the tale, was young Tom's assertion that old Tom insisted on three more times before young Tom was allowed to go to sleep that night.
Matt was a bit more coy about Andy at first but I finally, after a long silence on my part - meaning that Matt was dying to tell me - found out, as he then admitted, they had sucked each other off. In fact, Andy had told him he'd heard it was called a 'blow job' or a 'French' if a prostitute did it to you. Wow!
We were all stunned when we heard the news that President Roosevelt had died on the twelfth. At Assembly on the Friday the Head Beak said how he had overcome great adversity of being crippled with polio and had gone on to lead a great country which was helping us to regain a sense of good order for the people of Europe. I thought of Potty and his polio and how lucky he was that he only needed a stick. I also thought of Uncle Alfred and hoped the war would soon be over and he could be back to see us.
The exams were soon upon us. Actually, I didn't find them too formidable. I spotted a couple of hard questions in the maths but I tackled them as best I could and when Pa looked at the question paper he got the same answers. French and German were OK - I did fall foul of one bit of Latin as I couldn't remember the word for eminent - I remembered it - egregius - just before time was up but it was something that kept annoying me when I was trying to concentrate on the rest of the paper. We all agreed the English Literature paper was good - Old Mother Riley had certainly prepared us well, so with the Sciences, Geography and History out of the way as well I didn't think I'd done too badly.
**
The huge excitement was on May the eighth when Victory in Europe was announced. I hadn't remembered the bells of the church at the end of our road being rung before the war but that night there was a great peal of all eight of them which went on for hours. They sounded marvellous and I went into the church to see the bell-ringers pulling on the ropes. All the blackout curtains came down and the town lights went on. Ma was so happy and a street party was planned for the next Saturday which everyone attended and Pa had a good helping from the barrel of beer which someone had supplied.
I had planned to go to Ulvescott for Whitsun but as a surprise Pa arranged for us to go down to London for that weekend to see the city and all the celebrations. He managed to get us rooms in a good hotel through his Ministry of Defence contacts and Tom came with us. Matt was going up to Scotland to see his father. London was in a very festive mood. We strolled up the Mall - at least we were swept up the Mall by the crowds of people all intent on seeing Buckingham Palace at the end. Although the windows were lit up in the evening when we went back again we didn't see the King and Queen but we had seen the Changing of the Guard and then the guards in Whitehall in the morning. We went along Whitehall to see Downing Street where Mr Churchill lived and then stood under Big Ben at the Houses of Parliament - or as Pa said, it was really St Stephen's Tower and Big Ben was the bell - to hear it strike.
Everybody was really happy as the horrible war had ended. What was very sad was all the bomb damage but everyone said things would be rebuilt. Even Buckingham Palace had been hit and St Paul's Cathedral had sandbags and scaffolding all around it. Many buildings in the City of London were destroyed but there was such an air of rejoicing which did help to make it all a very happy occasion.
Another surprise was that we met up with Billy Clarke - Sergeant Clarke now. He was working at the Ministry of Defence having been chosen after doing the Sergeant Tester's course to do some sort of special clerk's job. He wasn't even living in barracks but shared a small flat near the Knightsbridge barracks with another sergeant in his office.
Tom thoroughly enjoyed himself - as I did. We wandered out of the hotel after Ma and Pa had gone to bed the second night and explored some of the roads around the hotel. Tom was very taken aback when two ladies wanted to know if we 'wanted a good time, dearie?'. We scurried off with Tom making dark remarks that they were 'tarts' and his brother had warned him about such women!
That encounter didn't prevent Tom from wanting sexual release that night. When we'd both come twice, I whispered 'Had a good time, dearie?'. We giggled ourselves to sleep.
Back at home there was more news. As the exams were over us Fifth Formers were told we needn't come into school, unless we wanted to use the Library, to practice for Sports Day, Sports Day itself and then the Annual Prize giving. Tom had a letter offering him a place at the Army Apprentices School in September and Matt was full of apprehension as he had been accepted for the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth for the Autumn entry. I was going into the Sixth Form having chosen to take French, German, Pure Maths and Applied Maths at Higher School Certificate. In that way I could keep all my options open.
Then a letter arrived from Captain Harrison at Andrew and Lachlan's school inviting me to attend the final passing-out parade for the Cadets at which Under-Officer Lachlan Cameron-Thomson would be Parade Marshal! This was for Friday June the fifteenth.
Time passed quite quickly. I heard from Nobbo that he and Cleggy had a constant stream - ho ho, more like squirt - of inquisitive souls who wanted to see their squirming spermatozoa. He said the news had reached some lads in both the Fourth Year and Third Year but they had been told to wait until they were in the Fifth Year. He did say they had made an exception for Roo's young brother, Kanga, on pain of immediate castration if he let on to his pals what he'd seen under the microscope.
Nobbo had some other news. Billy had invited him and Hal to go and stay at the flat to see the end of the celebrations. Hal's mother had been transferred to a Military Hospital near Southampton so wasn't living in London anymore. Nobbo said it was odd as Billy and his fellow sergeant shared one of the two bedrooms and while he was there Billy told him not to answer the telephone. Of course, Nobbo did and he said the caller was very interested when he said he was Billy's younger brother and called him 'young chicken' and wanted to know when they could meet. He had laughed when Nobbo said he'd disobeyed his brother in answering the 'phone and said not to worry 'chicko' he wouldn't spill the beans although he was sure they would have had a good time! Nobbo said he wondered how Billy got transferred to London and said Billy and his 'friend' the other sergeant seemed to have plenty of money.
Also, he said he'd deciphered the rest of Billy's diary and he was now absolutely sure he'd been getting money for having sex as he'd found several references to times with initials. No full names. He said he wondered if Billy had got to London because of some contact or other but hadn't dared ask him. The other sergeant was very much like Billy - a big, husky bloke was Nobbo's description. A mystery!
Getting to Flea's and Lach's school was no problem. Uncle Edward was also going as a guest of honour and 'phoned to say he had got permission from his driver, Emrys, to pick me up on the way down. When they turned up, Emrys said my Uncle was his usual self and I wasn't to take any notice. He grinned, though, and said he did have to keep an eye on Uncle Edward's diary as he never knew where he was supposed to be.
I was looking forward to the school visit as I would be putting faces to names. Potty, Cartwright, Sibs, Bastable, Wilkie, Titty, even the sneak, Milverton, would be revealed. Captain Harrison said I would be staying with his wife and him in their house and Uncle Edward arranged that he would be going back North to Catterick where he was dealing with trials so could take me back to Kerslake on the way.
The visit was a great success. The Staff Car was met at the gates of the school by a small contingent of the boys' friends, all in their Cadets' uniforms. They lined up and saluted smartly as Lt. Colonel Edward Thomson was driven through their ranks. Uncle Edward got Emrys to stop the car and hopped out and shook hands solemnly with all the lads. Lachs and Flea looked very proud to see their new dad and when it was my turn to be introduced it was all I and they could do not to hug each other.
So, that was my first introduction to the friends I'd heard so much about. Potty, was there, in sergeant's uniform but leaning on a stick. He was tall, lanky, with a great beaming smile.
"I've heard of you," were his opening words as we shook hands, "Young Andrew is always saying 'Jacko says.....'!"
His smile told me he knew all about Flea and his antics. Then he introduced me to the others. Cartwright was another Under Officer. He was also tall, six feet at least, he was eighteen and looked it, very military in his bearing, broad-shouldered, tough-looking, but with an open, friendly personality. I could see why he and Lachs were such good friends. Sibs was about as tall as me, rather rotund, with regulation wire-rimmed specs, a bit like a very nice Billy Bunter and he kept grinning knowingly at me. I wondered what tales Lachs had spun him!
Titty grabbed me by the arm after he'd shaken hands. He was unmistakable. A shock of red hair, freckles and a bad case of acne, just as Flea had described him. Although in uniform, he had his left arm in a sling.
"You called him Flea, didn't you?" he said. He laughed. "Suits him. He's my best friend. And yours, too!" He waved his injured arm at me. " It's OK. Sprained the fucker in the sodding gym last week!" he said, sotto voce, but in a voice that carried to Uncle Edward who turned and grinned but there was a rather pained look on Lachs' face.
And so it went on until Uncle Edward called a halt, bundled about six or seven of the lads into the roomy car and we proceeded to the main entrance of the school where Captain Harrison was waiting. There was military pandemonium as the boys exited from the car, lined up again, saluting the Captain, who was saluting Uncle Edward as a senior officer. I was carried out with the throng, much to Emrys' amusement, and nearly started saluting everything and everyone in sight until I remembered I wasn't a soldier!
First things first. A signal from Captain Harrison dismissed the lads except for Lachs, Flea and Cartwright. I was escorted to the Great Hall where the Honours Board was displayed on the wall. Cartwright handed me two red roses and I placed them in the two small vases which were already standing on the plinth at the base of the board. I stood back and the three boys saluted the names. All those names of young men who had given their lives over many wars or on duty, from the Afghan Wars, India, the Boer War, the Great War and the freshly painted ones from this war -still not quite over as Japan was still to be defeated. I saw Miles and Piers commemorated. They were together in death as in life. They were killed three weeks apart in that dreadful massacre of the Somme. They had all sacrificed their young lives so that we could exist. We stood surveying the names for at least a full five minutes. When I turned all four of us had tears running down our cheeks.
We left the hall in silence to be accosted by a very beautiful boy in Cadet uniform who looked a bit younger than me. He had fair hair under his forage cap and a clear complexion and big, soulful brown eyes.
"What do you want, Milverton?" Cartwright asked rather curtly.
So this was Antony Milverton, the sneak, according to Flea and Lachs.
"I want to say sorry, Sir," he said, saluting Cartwright. Then he came over to me. "I'm sorry I spied on the Camerons when they put the flowers in there. I didn't know what they were doing. I know now they were honouring your cousin and his friend.
Please forgive me."
He sounded really contrite and I think the others were rather astounded by his sincerity. I put out a hand and he took it and we shook hands.
"Thank you," was the only thing I could think of saying. Then somehow I knew what to say. "That was very brave of you to come and say that to us all. I'm sure we shall be friends."
"I wanted to apologise because my great-uncle's on there as well and I wouldn't want you to think I didn't care," he said very feelingly. He smiled. "Not many want to be friends with me. Thank you."
I think even Cartwright, who had Milverton as his fag, was also rather moved by what he'd said. "There's another rose in the porch," he said, "Why don't you take that and add it to the ones under the board."
Milverton looked at him very gratefully. "Thanks," he said, saluted him and scurried off.
Lachs and Flea looked at each other. Cartwright turned from watching Milverton hurry off.
"Young Milverton has a hidden side," said Cartwright, "Perhaps we should try and cultivate it. Would you like him as an extra fag next year, Lachs, when I've gone? You'll have plenty to do."
Lachs immediately said he would and there wasn't even a hint of a murmur of dissent from Flea.
I was then taken into their House and was surrounded by numerous other lads all of whom had to be introduced and commented on. I could see that both Lachs and Flea were very popular. I even met Lawson who was big and very brawny. Lachs must have packed a punch to down him.
It was Flea who introduced us. "And this is Lawson, our hero! He's just won the coxless pairs with Bastable over there. A real first for our House!"
I must have looked rather bemused. Cocks-less? Pairs?
A giggling Flea enlightened me. "It's rowing. All the Houses compete and we won!" He punched me lightly on the arm. "It's OK, he's as well-endowed as the rest of us, aren't you, Gerry?"
A now blushing Lawson made a halfhearted swipe at Flea.
"I've had enough of that gag, thank you!" he said, "And I suppose you got your brother to check on Baz to see he's all right?"
A rather confused explanation of different rowing terms then ensued. No cox meant no one to steer the boat. A rather hazardous enterprise much given to bumping and crashing and needing great skill as evinced by these champions. Bastable was introduced as the other mighty contestant and I could see why Lachs was attracted to him. He was chunky, about five foot seven, all muscle and a winning smile. He might act dumb but I realised even then there were hidden depths. He was accompanied by Wilkie, his mentor and friend. Six foot two at least, with a high domed forehead. Somehow I warmed to him immediately. He might appear aloof and an egghead but there was something about him which inspired confidence. Bastable obviously idolised him and I could see that both Lachs and Flea counted him amongst their particular friends.
Just before we had to leave for supper Cartwright called for silence. He said he had three announcements to make. One was to welcome Lachs and Flea's new cousin - cheers -, second to announce the promotion of Sergeant Potterton, D, to Under-Officer, with effect from O eight hundred hours tomorrow morning. The place rang with the cheering and a blushing Potty had to stand up to even more cheers. Thirdly, the promotion of Cadet Bastable, M, and Cadet Lawson, G, to the rank of Corporal with effect the same time tomorrow and to act as Escorts to the Colours on the parade. Renewed cheers.
Lawson was truly reinstated.
We all trooped over to the main building for supper. Substantial but stodgy. Plenty of potatoes to fill the stomachs of growing boys. I sat between Flea and Milverton who I had pointedly walked across to the dining hall with. After that Uncle Edward came and collected me but he was soon surrounded by a great gaggle of lads all wanting to meet the new dad of Lachs and Flea. He was in his element. Quips and laughter all round.
He, I and Emrys, were staying in Captain Harrison's own house. Emrys may have been only a corporal but he was treated, like me, as one of the family. Mrs Harrison was Scottish, like Tom's mother, and was much amused by my tale of the dressing-up at Christmas. I then heard more news. A General Election had been called and Uncle Edward was going to stand for Parliament in a Cheshire constituency! That meant he would be getting special leave to fight the election and would need all the help he could get.
Polling day was going to be towards the end of July so I volunteered to go and stay with Grandma and Grandpa and put leaflets through doors. Uncle Edward laughed and said he expected a contingent from Cardiff and also Flea and Lachs would be there. Mrs Harrison laughed and said Uncle Edward was a very good choice, a military career, a family including a new baby and a handsome company of young helpers would certainly bring out the female vote!
The parade next day was most impressive. I was given a place at the back of the raised dais with Titty next to me as guide. His sprained wrist prevented him from being in his squad. There were two Major-Generals, vying with each other for superiority, with a tactful Potty acting as their aide-de-camp. Uncle Edward was the next most senior officer followed by two Majors and three Lieutenants who I was informed were Old Boys of the school. Titty was a mine of information and commentary.
"Bloody Potty," was his first comment as Potty led the two high-ranking officers to their places at the front. "If he crawls up that fat one's arse much more, his fucking stick will be poking out of the old bugger's mouth. Oh, fuck, mustn't let that other one see me!"
Luckily we were sitting high enough and away from the little crowd of officers and assorted staff and wives below for them to catch his words. His language, as Lachs had said, was particularly fruity. I had to giggle though as the band marched past. The Drum-Major with his mace was a huge lad, very smart and very adept at swinging and tossing the mace high in the air.
"That's fucking Foxx, with two x's," intoned Titty in a whisper. "Built like a bloody brick shit-house ain't he? Got the smallest dick in the school though. Moggy his fag says its no more than a couple of fucking inches." He nudged me. "And Moggy should know!"
I didn't know who Moggy was but more evidence of liaisons.
As the band marched and countermarched I was looking at the bass-drummer. Another big lad and wielding his sticks very lustily. He looked a bit hot and no wonder. He had a tiger-skin draped over his shoulders and front to keep the drum off his uniform. Titty nudged me again.
"Badger whacks his fag with those fucking sticks when he's annoyed. Little bugger likes it though. Should see his fucking arse sometimes, red as a fucking beetroot!" He chortled. "Young Snellie has to brush that moth-eaten old cunt of a skin before every parade. Gets fucking walloped if he doesn't do it carefully. Falling to bits, he says. No fucking wonder. Shot in India in 1892! Badger's fucking pride and joy, though!"
Moth-eaten? There was a beautiful lion's skin, still with a tawny mane on it, at Ulvescott in a chest in the African room. I wondered if Mrs Crossley would give it to the school to replace that old tiger? I would ask her. That would be a pride and joy for Badger and his well-beaten fag!
"Here they come," announced Titty as the assembled group on the dais rose to their feet followed by Titty and me. The Colours were first presented and saluted, with Lachs leading the Colour Party with drawn sword held rigidly against his nose. Even Titty kept quiet during that ceremony when all the military might on the platform, including him, solemnly saluted.
Led by the Colour Party the two Major-Generals, followed by the entourage of other officers, inspected the squads of Cadets. This took some time as many of the Cadets were spoken to by various members of the party. They returned to the dais and stood looking hot and proud while Lachs shouted the orders for the Cadets to march past accompanied by a stirring tune from the band assembled in the centre of the parade ground.
As each squad marched past there was a smart 'Eyes Right' and the leading NCO saluted the group on the dais. I saw a few involuntary grins on the mostly implacable faces of the passing Cadets. I then realised that Titty had the first two fingers of his left hand extended through the front opening of the sling and, in time with the band, was giving each succeeding squad a series of non-Churchillian V-signs. As the last squad finished marching by he whispered throatily. "Got to keep a fucking sense of proportion on these occasions. Keeps the bastards from getting too cocksure and above their fucking selves!" I warmed to Titty even more in spite of the language!
Finally, there were presentations. Cartwright got the Sword of Honour and as well as dirks for two of the other Cadets, Potty was also awarded one as well. When he returned to the dais one of the Lieutenants shook his hand and lifted up the hem of his jacket to show that he had his dirk with him.
At the end of the parade we made our way to Captain Harrison's garden. There was a tent with plates and cup and saucers on the table and afternoon tea all laid out. Mrs Harrison marshalled Titty and me to help hand out the plates. There was a groan from Titty. Not because he'd been asked to help but because one of the Major-Generals was advancing on us.
"Hello, you young rapscallion!" he said jovially to Titty, "And how's your lovely mother? I haven't seen much of the family for a couple of years. She all right? And your father?"
He didn't wait for a reply from the, for once, dumbstruck Titty. He turned to me with outstretched hand. "I'm his great-uncle once removed or something like that. Tempest's the name, none of this double-barrelled nonsense." Ouch, his grip was very strong. "I hear you're related to the old General." I assumed he meant General Crossley. "Knew him well. I was here a few years ahead of Piers but I used to come back for the rowing. Coached a bit." He turned to Titty. "Something you could do, young man, build you up a bit." Titty retreated behind me as the Major-General fixed his gaze on me again. "Glad you could come. Thomson's cleared up a few sticky cases for me. Are you clever like him? Good his boys are here, isn't it?"
He was obviously not used to having his questions answered as he immediately went on to enquire when the bloody tea was going to be poured. He shook my hand again and departed back to the gaggle of officers by the tea table who parted, like the Red Sea, on his arrival. Titty breathed a sigh of relief but said nothing.
Mrs Harrison had overheard the encounter and grinned at us and pointed to an opening at the back of the tent. As we passed her, she handed us each a plate laden with sandwiches and buns.
"Much quieter out there," she whispered. "Try the croquet when you've finished."
Out there was the lawn with, I assumed, the croquet hoops which had been in the boys' luggage, all set out. Two fairly elderly gentlemen were having a game. One of them beckoned us across as we finished our plates of food.
"Cosmo," he called out, "Come and make up a four with your friend. Dr Miller is getting impatient with me."
"That's Mr Quentin. He's my Classics master. I'm not much good." Titty nodded to the other master, still in his flowing gown, taking a careful sweep at the ball which went neatly through a distant hoop. "Dr Miller takes us for German. Bit better at that."
I was introduced. Mr Quentin was tall and thin. Dr Miller, short, rotund, with a polished bald head surrounded by a mass of white hair and a scar on his right cheek. We paired off. I was with Dr Miller who was quite expert at the 'vicious game' as Mr Quentin called it. As we waited for our turn he enquired who I was. He probably thought I was a prospective pupil. I explained I was now the Camerons' cousin and he smiled and nodded. I said I was going into the Sixth Form next term and was taking German as one of my subjects. That did it. The pair of us spoke German for the rest of the afternoon much to the consternation of Titty and Mr Quentin. I found out Dr Miller had read German at Oxford and then gone to the University of Berlin and completed a doctorate there. I must have been staring at the scar when he laughed and said he got that in a duelling club.
He explained - in English for the benefit of the other two - that the old German universities had duelling-clubs which were very elitist. A mark of great respect was to receive a duelling scar. He had been laughed at for being English but had been admitted in the end to the club and had acquitted himself very well and had received his scar at the hands of a very well-known Prussian officer who had also been killed, like Piers and Miles, in the First World War. He said he had visited the family many times after the war and they were devastated when Hitler became Chancellor but had to keep quiet. He was hoping that now the war was over he would be able to visit the country again but he was afraid those parts he knew and liked were now in Russian hands.
I could see that Mr Quentin didn't know all this and Titty was very attentive listening. I found out Dr Miller had worked at the British Library until he retired and then had volunteered to come and teach at the school when the younger masters were called up. He was a widower and both his sons were out in Europe somewhere with the army. He said he knew Kerslake well and, surprise, surprise, had been at Oxford with Blaise Campion. He knew he'd died and said it was a sad loss as he'd had a very distinguished career.
I thought I could get to like croquet. As Mr Quentin had said, it was vicious, especially when you had a ball all nicely set up and your opponent very craftily sent it flying as he scored a hoop. Dr Miller delighted in getting Titty off guard several times and I could see a few "Fucks!" boiling up but unsaid! Titty could be the perfect gentleman when necessary!
Mrs Harrison came out as we finished the second game and we all went into the tent where Titty and I scoffed remaining sandwiches and other fodder while the two beaks had further cups of tea. Titty then took me back to the House and I was shown his and Flea's room. Very military tidy, much more tidy than the bedroom at Pin Mill House. Titty then stripped off his uniform and got dressed in his school clothes. "Fucking army shirts, fucking rough!" was one comment.
Although about my age he was hairier - especially under the arms and he also had very fine red hairs beginning to sprout on his chest. He'd just finished buttoning his grey school shirt when Flea came bustling in - still in his Cadet's uniform. He looked from one to the other of us rather questioningly. Did he think......?
"Must change and then come down," he said, sensing, I hope, that nothing had happened. "Cartwright's got a couple of bottles of champers and we might get a drop if we're lucky. Wetting old Potty's head as well as Baz and Lawson's."
His clothes were off in a flash and a redressed Flea was ready in a couple of minutes. He was a real bundle of energy.
We all got a mouthful of champagne and there were three cheers for everyone. The parade was judged a great success and Titty was told off for making everyone laugh with his rude V-signs. Bastable and Wilkie were insistent on a trip for me and the boys to the west country. Cartwright said I was welcome anytime with Lachs and Flea in Cumberland. All my fears in the past about Public Schoolboys were dissipated completely. They were no different from the rest of us. Perhaps more money and privilege, but as Captain Harrison said to me as he showed me round the school the next morning, what really mattered was what the boys did with their lives after leaving school and he could foresee great changes in the future for the country.
As we waited for the car to take me back to Kerslake with Uncle Edward, Lachs and Flea were most excited about Uncle's impending election battle. I was instructed to be there, or else! As Flea made scissoring movements I knew I would be doomed if I wasn't there. I played up and said I would have to see. It might be more exciting to stay in Kerslake. The look of scorn on Flea's face was such that 'or else' was not a promise, it was a real threat!
Back home I relayed the news. Of course, Pa and Ma knew already. As usual. Wonderful invention, Mr Bell and his f....., - oh, no, Titty's influence - telephone! I was then informed that Tim Parker's father, Mervyn Parker, was going to be the Labour candidate for the second Kerslake seat. Again, dozy me, hadn't realised about political parties. Luckily, before I could show my abject ignorance Ma did mention that Uncle Edward was contesting as a Conservative.
What was interesting was that, although, the Fifth Years who were not actually leaving school still turned up very regularly even though we were not having set lessons. I spent a lot of the time taking books out of then Library and sunning myself in the long grass on the edge of the cricket field with Matt and a couple of others. We did do a bit of practice also for the Sports Day and an idyllic time was had by all.
The Head beak announced the school would have its own hustings and candidates should make themselves known to Mr Pugh who would be conducting the proceedings. >From the bored look on the faces of my fellow pupils the election was generally being given a lukewarm reception.
The news of his new task had not gone down well with Huggy who was a real bear with a sore head when he strode into the form room, gown billowing, muttering to himself, after Assembly. There was absolute silence in the room on his entrance. Even Cleggy held his peace for once. Huggy surveyed the depleted numbers in the room. His eyes fixed first on me and then on Tim.
"I am reliably informed that two of your number have close, or fairly close, relatives who will be standing as proper..." He placed heavy emphasis on the word 'proper'. "....candidates in the real...," He emphasised 'real' this time. ".....General Election. They are hereby disqualified for participation as candidates in our little effort for fear of contaminating the minds of voters if the news spreads."
Heads swivelled at the mention of "two of your number". Both Tim and I went beet red and I saw Tony raise his eyebrows even while I was staring fixedly at the side of his head as he sat in front of me.
Huggy continued, giving us all a searching, penetrating look. "If any of you other dear souls think they are a worthy aspirant for any cause, without just or unjust impediment to their candidature, they should see me here when the final bell for the day has been rung."
He looked round the class again. Silence still reigned. A single hand shot up. It was Tony's. Huggy nodded at him.
"Well, young sir, you wish to declare yourself?"
"No, sir," said Tony, "But do the candidates have to represent particular parties, Conservative, Liberal, Labour and so on?"
A smile played on Huggy's lips. "You have other ideas?"
"Not necessarily, sir," was Tony's reply. "They do have Independent candidates and other parties, don't they?"
Huggy gave a rare smile and nodded. I couldn't see his face, but I had an inkling that Tony had an idea.
Danny Ross's hand went up. Huggy smiled again.
"I'll be the Labour candidate, sir, if no one else wants to be."
Huggy beamed. "Anyone else?" No one stirred. He made a note on a piece of paper he had carried in with him. "Mr Ross has declared himself. I will have to ask other forms about suitable candidates but the Labour candidate is now settled. First come first served!"
Of course, it soon got round that Tim's dad and my uncle were 'proper' candidates. Tim said to me that he was heartily sick of the fuss already and was really glad he needn't be involved. He said the only good thing was that his father was coming home on indefinite leave from Egypt where he was stationed.
Tom cycled home with me after our sun-bathing afternoon. He said no one in his class had wanted to stand as a candidate so he supposed the others would come from the Sixth Formers. Both of us had really caught the sun the last few days and we had to compare tans in the privacy of my bedroom. We also compared our spermatic output. I commented, much to his delight, that compared with his brother he was much more developed in other respects. Yes, my friend Tom was now catching me up. I had measured mine at the weekend and, not boasting, I was now almost six and a half inches. Gosh, I had really lengthened since Easter! Keep it up - in more ways than one!!
Tony turned up at school next day with a rolled up poster and after Huggy had called the register and left the form room we gathered round him to find out what he was going to do. He said his party was going to be a well-kept secret, but it was for all boys and all would definitely vote for it when they were twenty-one if it was in the 'real' General Election. Tony said to Tim that his slogan was just a bit different from Tim's dad's. He then unrolled the lengthy, stuck together pieces of paper and, with Roo holding one end, held it up. We fell about when we read what was writ large in black capitals.
WANKERS OF THE WORLD UNITE.
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT YOUR STAINS.
There were hoots of laughter which were doubled when Tony said it was the United Comers' Party, or UCP for short. He then held up another piece of paper with a drawing on it. This, he said, was the party badge. It took a moment or two for me to fathom it out. Tony was quite an artist and on a well-drawn large blue anchor a large black, capital W had been superimposed.
Johnny Wills expressed his incomprehension. "What the fuck's that?"
"It's a rebus," was Tony's reply and before Johnny could reiterate, "What the fuck's that?" Peter Fry guffawed.
"It's your party definitely, Johnny! You'll have to vote for their candidate but you'd be a good one if needed!"
Johnny still looked non-plussed. A stage whisper came from Dave Morgan, "Wanker!"
Johnny blushed. A quick vote was taken and it was decided, against his protests, that he would be the ideal candidate, but, as Dave Morgan pointed out, Huggy would be unlikely to accept the Party as such.
Vince had a brilliant idea. "What about calling it the 'All-Comers Party'. Sounds innocent and anyone could vote for it. You'd have to make the poster and badge a bit smaller and only show it around. Mustn't let the beaks know!"
We all agreed and Johnny was duly confirmed as the ACP candidate, much to his initial discomfiture until it was pointed out that every vote he got was from a fellow 'all- comer'!
Tom and I cycled home together again. He confirmed the new party and its message had spread like wildfire around the wankers of 5S. In Tom's bedroom that afternoon we both demonstrated our adherence to the tenets of the motto and we explored a new meaning for the electoral term of 'losing one's deposit'. I said our candidate and all his supporters would surely be losing theirs as well!
So the hustings proceeded. It would be interesting to see how the more 'normal' candidates would get on. As well as Danny Ross for Labour, Chris Prosser was the Conservative candidate, following his uncle, the mayor's footsteps, and Tom Rankin stood for the Liberals.
Our desultory practice for the field events for Sports Day paid off. I had a go at the javelin and came third. Tom beat all-comers, in the proper sense of the term, in the shot putt and Matt got second place in the discus throw. I surprised myself by beating the school record for the half-mile against very strong opposition from Tom Rankin and Andy Symes. On the way home I said to Tom I wasn't surprised at his result as he'd been exercising that right arm of his for years. Good old Tom! He exercised it more, twice, on me as I was all worked-up after my win, too.
The school election voting was the next day. It was decreed that all the school, from First Years upwards were eligible to vote. Tom Rankin won with Johnny Wills a close second. Tom's success was attributed mainly to him being Head Boy and Captain of the First XV, both being positions of honour and admiration for the younger lads. On questioning around, it was clear that Johnny's second place was due to the block voting by the Fifth and Sixth Years who saw the funny side of the party name and who cast their votes in favour of the candidate supporting their, no doubt, nightly habits.
To obviate any leakage of information, Tony had altered his party badge to include a large K instead of a W and any young kid asking what it meant was told that it stood for Kerslake and the anchor for steadfastness and endurance. This seemed to satisfy everyone until Nobbo rescued the original, folded-up, W-anchor, from old Harry's refuse bag which he'd left in the Biology lab one night. Nobbo surmised that his previous port of call had been the Staff Common Room, so, had the original party device been passed round there? Would they have deciphered it's meaning?
The next day was Prize Giving in the Kerslake Theatre. Rows of proud parents sat while sons were called forward for all manner of prizes and awards. I went up to collect the Fifth Year Lane Cup and my winner's medal. The medal went straight into my trouser pocket to join that precious medal which Piers had won and my Fourth Year medal. A great honour came the way of Tom and Matt. They were awarded half-colours for Rugby. It was said colours rarely went to Fifth Years but as both Tom and Matt were leaving it was a singular honour for them and well deserved. I got a book prize for Modern Languages, the Head Beak commenting that I had taken an extra language for the examinations. Tim got a special Music prize and then, to crown it all, the pair of us gave our secretly prepared performance of the first of Moszkowski's Spanish Dances. That got a special round of applause. The big disappointment was that the old Colonel, our Chairman of Governors, was unwell and couldn't attend, so any unwitting double-entendres were not forthcoming. Tom and I celebrated the end of his schooldays with a first and second coming later that evening.
So the end of my Fifth Year at Kerslake School came to an end. We broke up on Tuesday the seventeenth of July and I, without quite a few of my friends, would be returning in September to join the Sixth Form. That is, depending on the results of the School Cert coming sometime the next week!
Neither Tom nor Matt could come with me to Chester. Tom had his paper-round to do as he said he needed the money. Matt was going up to Scotland to be with his father at the 'stone frigate' to get some pre-training instruction from the assorted Naval personnel up there. Several comments had been made about his choice of career, led by Tony's surmise that he would probably end up as a Vice-Admiral, but, in any case, there would always be a lot of discharged Seamen around his Naval base!
So, I went off to Chester by myself on the Thursday to be met at the little station near my grandparent's house by a grinning trio of Lachs, Flea and Rhys with a small pram. As soon as I was swept off the train I was introduced to my new cousin, Julia Cameron Thomson, aged three months and a bit. I don't know if it was a smile or wind but she did look pleased to see me and didn't squawk when I was instructed to push the pram while the boys carried my luggage. Rhys said if I ever needed a job I would make a good nanny. Rhys would get his comeuppance later!
On the way Rhys said he had been turned down for military service because of his poor eyesight. Flea skipped out of the way as he commented we all knew what caused that! Rhys ignored him and went on to say he would be going to Cardiff University in the Autumn to read Law. Grandpa and Uncle Edward had promised him a place in the firm if he graduated.
The great round of greetings continued when I arrived at the house. The usual from Grandma, "Haven't you grown!", a handshake and a folded pound note from Grandpa, a hug and a kiss from my new aunt, Della, and a great smile of welcome from Nanny Saunders who had rescued the baby from the pram.
I was then shown to the big bedroom by the other three. They had arranged I would be sleeping there with them and their grins told me the three of them had made good use of it already!
Uncle Edward and Emrys appeared in time for supper. Emrys had been given special leave to assist his superior officer even though the banter between them showed that Emrys was staunch Labour and he kept saying he was only doing it through a sense of duty. Uncle Edward then announced that Emrys was being given a special discharge now that the war was over and would be joining Rhys at Cardiff to study Law and the pair of them had better do well otherwise there would be no jobs for them if he had anything to do with it.
Grandpa knew all about this and told Uncle Edward he was sure the boys would do well. He then went off and brought back two bottles of champagne which he'd got from his cellar earlier. We wetted the baby's head, toasted mother, Nanny, the Under-Officer, Rhys, Emrys, Uncle Edward, Uncle Tom Cobley and all - we just needed Jan Pearse's grey mare and we'd been riding even higher! So the General Election was begun!
That night in the privacy of the big bedroom Rhys assured us that the General Erection was about to begin. His description of Parliament with Standing Members, Sitting Members, Whips, Privy Seals, Black Rods and Serjeants at Arms in black stockings, made it sound like a hotbed of depravity and wickedness. Four boys had Standing Members before long and our first sitting lasted most of the night and we certainly had a hot bed in the July heat!
Less than exhausted after a night of depravity and debauchery we emerged for our first day of electioneering. An old bus had been found and had been plastered with posters and streamers announcing the arrival of the Conservative candidate, Edward Thomson. We boys, Aunt Della, Nanny and baby Julia, plus sundry others, party workers and hangers on, made up the advance party. As we toured the villages, with Uncle Edward arriving just after us in an old Morris 8 driven by faithful Labourite, Emrys, we handed out 'Vote for Edward Thomson' leaflets, poked them through letter-boxes and generally paved the way for the candidate's reception by the stunned populace. Uncle Edward then took over, shaking hands and talking to all. Contrary to the received opinion about candidates' duties I didn't see him actually kiss any babies, although for the benefit of a local press photographer he was pictured holding a less than happy Julia up while he smiled broadly.
Emrys sat, stony-faced, in a dark suit belonging to Grandpa, passing out bundles of leaflets from the back seat of the car when needed, but resolutely refusing to leave the safe haven of his car. He even wore a red tie! We harried him unmercifully. Flea and Rhys made up all sorts of scurrilous rhymes about the opposing candidates, both of whom had unfortunate names, Harrison Balls and Evans Clapp. Emrys' face was a picture when Rhys whispered to him the first time "If you want the clap, vote Labour!" I did notice his shoulders heave after Rhys scurried off to harass a passer-by with the injunction 'Vote for Thomson'. I think Emrys didn't really mind because he kept mouthing threats about "when the Revolution comes" each time Rhys came up to deliver another sally. I knew, though, that he was very proud of Uncle Edward even if he did disagree absolutely with his political adherence. Uncle Edward pointedly referred to him as 'my comrade-in-arms' just to wind him up a bit. But, they were much more like friends than officer and soldier.
Each day up to the election we toured a different part of the constituency. Uncle Edward was quite buoyant. He said the sight of all us youngsters helping him, plus Julia being cooed over by the female element at every stop, should be of great value to him. Emrys said, in one of his rare comments, that it was all a ploy to seduce the proletariat and "When the Revolution....." I don't think Flea and Lachs ever knew if he was deadly serious or not but after one repetition of the refrain he winked at me when no one else was looking.
Our nights were also hectic. Flea seemed to be in a perpetual state of euphoria over the events of each day manifesting itself at night as a perpetual state of horniness. During the day he was at the forefront of handing out leaflets, talking to old ladies and entreating all in hearing distance to vote for his father. All this continued with his encounters in bed at night. He was in a frenzy as soon as one of us touched him. He shot load after load with such abandon. I think after the third night Lachs began to get a little bit worried for him. The first night on the election trail he shot off four times, the next five and when he got up to six on the third night Lachs asked us the next day to try to slow him down a bit. Those six times were at his insistence. He came six times, but on the last two there was almost no output of spunk, just the merest dribble. He was all hot and sweaty after that and twined himself around me before dropping off into a deep sleep. I was hot and sweaty too, so with the combination of that and the spunk we were a ripe-smelling pair according to equally sweaty, spunked-up and smelly Rhys and Lachs!
It wasn't that the rest of us weren't horny as well. I managed a steady three times each night and had a hardon to be dealt with each morning before getting up for breakfast, but Flea was a human dynamo in bed and out. No slacking was his continual injunction. He was always first off the bus whenever we stopped. He was determined Uncle Edward was going to win and he was going to make certain of it. We followed his lead, galvanised into action by his persistence and effort. Even Emrys managed a wry smile each time Andrew demanded another batch of election literature from "No Balls Jones from the Rhondda, whose desire for a dose of Clapp is a wonder!" I wondered whether young Flea would be dealt with in due time!
All came to a great halt on polling day. We did a final vote-catching foray in the morning but by then we were all exhausted and in the evening, after a rest, went to see the votes counted. This took ages as several of the ballot boxes had to come in from outlying polling stations. At half past five in the morning we heard Uncle Edward had been elected MP for the district. We also heard that Mr Churchill was no longer Prime Minister because from the results so far declared the Labour Party had had a landslide victory.
In our case honours were even. Uncle Edward would be an MP and Emrys' party would be in power. We trundled back to Grandpa's house for breakfast and a welcome sleep.
Of course, we were all overjoyed, the boys especially so. That evening Grandpa brought out more champagne and everyone was toasted again, even Emrys, who had a great grin on his face and kept sneering at Flea every time he passed him. Actually after two glasses of the invigorating brew, Flea leapt on Emrys and shook his hand with ardour and congratulated him on keeping a straight face through all the days of such adversity and said, perhaps, in the future, when the revolution came, he would think kindly of his friends.
Plans had then to be made. Uncle Edward had to return to Colchester to finish off case work before taking his leave to become sworn-in as a Member of Parliament. I was invited to spend the rest of the summer holiday at Pin Mill House. So, it was arranged for us to descend on Kerslake, three boys being ferried by Uncle and Emrys in the staff car. We would have an over-night stop and proceed to Colchester the next day, where we three would catch a train to Ipswich.
The boys would be sleeping with me while Uncle Edward would have the spare room and Emrys would be billeted on Mrs Buchanan in Dunc's old room. All arranged! Another evening of celebration. More champagne, with Ma getting especially giggly and Tom wanting to know all about Army life from a real live soldier. Celebrations were also in order as I had passed School Cert with Matriculation Exemption. My route through the Sixth Form was assured. Tom had passed all his exam subjects, even getting a Credit in Mathematics, which he said was all due to me. As Matt wasn't around, being still in Scotland, I didn't find out how he had fared. In fact, as Tom was off to join the Army in August we said our fond farewells that night. The boys wished him well and I said I would, no doubt, see him home on leave at Christmas.
The next few weeks passed so quickly at Pin Mill House. I met up again with young Georgie, now even taller and with an even wiser head on young shoulders. Swimming and sailing were two major activities and expeditions around the countryside made me fall in love with that part of England with as much enthusiasm as shown by the boys.
However, there was a bit of a bombshell when it was announced that Uncle Edward and Aunt Della would be moving into my grandparent's house so he could be near his constituency. Grandma and Grandpa were moving to a smaller house in the same village and the good news for the boys, who were devastated to begin with, was that their great-uncle had decided to retire and he and his wife would take over Pin Mill House and the boys would be welcome at any time! Nanny Saunders would keep an eye on the new owners as well as looking after old Mrs Catchpole who was not very well.
I returned to Kerslake in time to begin school again. I was fit, healthy, brown as a berry, and more than sexually satisfied by the constant expression of those urges experienced by three extremely horny teenagers. We didn't take our enjoyment further than wanking and sucking but each time either of these activities was embarked on it was done with love and consideration and a complete fulfilment of any desire.
To be continued............