Once more, Ripley bounced into his home, at peace with the world, cocooned in the love of his man. That peace was shattered by his father.
"Come into the lounge Son, I want a word."
Ripley sat on the edge of his chair apprehensively waiting for the shock he felt was coming.
"I want you to arrange for you and me to go round to your teacher's home tomorrow evening. I don't want any bullshit or excuses. We meet at his home, or I'll ask the headmaster for a meeting in his office with you and the teacher."
Ripley sagged in his seat and the tears came, quietly, but in profusion as he saw, before his eyes, his and Tony's happiness sliding away.
"You can go to bed now, I'm not going to discuss anything else with you tonight."
Ripley knew in his own mind that to go along with his father's wishes would spell the end of Tony's teaching career. The only thing he could do was run away. If he wasn't around, Tony could be in the clear. Decision made. He packed what he thought he would need into his back pack. He wrote a note for Tony telling him he loved him very much but must now disappear to protect him, `tell Dad I must have just been infatuated with you not that we were having sex'. He would give it to Brewster to give to Tony, but not until last period. That way he would have about a 20 hour start. He had enough money to last a few days after which he hoped to find a job. The weather was warming up so he might even be able to sleep rough a few nights to conserve his assets. Everything in place, he left the house. It was still reasonably early so he could drop the letter off without arousing any suspicion, provided he didn't let Brewster see the back pack.
Everything worked like clockwork. Tony was shocked when he received the letter, and not caring about his own future went straight round to Ripley's house and waited until his father came home.
"Mr. York, I'm Tony Forrester, Ripley's literature teacher. Can we have a talk, urgently."
"I know who you are, my son and I are coming to see you later."
The words were heavy with condemnation.
"I don't think so Sir, that's why I'm here now. I think your son has done a runner."
Tom looked shocked. "What do you mean?"
Tony showed Tom the letter Ripley had written. Tom read it through twice before looking at Tony again with a look of total bemusement on his face.
"You'd better come in. My wife will be a while, she's gone shopping."
They sat down in the lounge facing each other.
"Why did you show me this, you realise that if I show this to your headmaster your teaching career is finished? Not just here but in the whole country?"
"My career doesn't matter. What matters is your son. You have to know the facts so that if there is any chance of us getting him back we don't go at it half cocked."
"What do you mean, us getting him back?"
"Mr. York, I love your son more than any other person in the world. I know he loves me as well, which is why he has run away. He hoped that by doing so it would protect my career. I guess he thinks you know about us and this was his only way out. I pray he has only run away, and not run somewhere to do himself a mischief. Can you check what he left with? It might give us an idea of his intentions."
Tom wanted time to digest this information and checking Ripley's room would be a good way to delay any replies while he thought about the information he now had. He went through his son's room and as best he could came up with a list of missing things.
"Walking boots, he's probably wearing. His best trainers, a selection of underwear and socks, T shirts, two pairs of jeans, one smart shirt and one smart pair of trousers. His savings book. That boy is going somewhere to get a job and start a new life."
Tony nodded his agreement.
"So what are we going to do about it?"
"You are going to report me to my headmaster and I'm going to scour the country until I find him, or die in the attempt. Or, we are going to sit down and plan a strategy that will get him back in a hurry."
"I don't understand what you two have, but I have to believe you love my son if you are prepared to give up everything to get him back, so how are we going to do it?"
"We have to compile a message for him that lets him know we are ok together. If my career isn't at risk he'll come back. Once we've got it refined I'll get it onto the radio somehow. I'll take a full page add in a national newspaper asking for anyone that has seen him to pass on our message. If that doesn't work, I'll do the same thing again in a week's time but add a reward figure to it."
"You realise that could cost you thousands of pounds?"
Tony nodded, and summoning his last reserves to avoid crying like a baby he managed to get out, "And what use is money to me if I lose the most important being in my world."
The realisation that he was telling the truth, that it was possible he would lose Ripley was too much and he collapsed, sobbing his eyes out.
"I love him so much, I knew it was wrong, but to me he was so beautiful I couldn't resist him."
Tom couldn't understand this young man, but he loved his son as well and would do whatever was necessary to get him back.
The two men, with one aim, sat down to try to refine a message.
"I'm sure that if we don't get to him in the first week or two that we will have lost him, so this has to be right Mr. York."
"I think you had better call me Tom, or Dad. If we get my son back I think you are going to become part of my family."
Tony was struck dumb by this acceptance of his love.
"Thank you Sir, I don't know what to say. Pray to God this works."
The final draft of the message was finished just as Ann York walked through the door. Tom took her into the kitchen and told her the story. She was totally overcome at the thought of losing her boy and rushed into the lounge. She hit Tony like a tornado, screaming at him that he had corrupted her son and should be hung. She pounded him and he sat there. He didn't try to defend himself and by the time Tom pulled her off he looked a mess, blood flowing from his nose, both eyes closing up and scratch marks all over his face. A tiger would have been hard put to have done this amount of damage in such a short time.
"Ann, for God's sake, this boy is as devastated as we are. Don't you understand, he loves Ripley, he'd lose his career, spend all his money to get him back, even die for him. I don't understand their love, but he isn't to blame."
Ann calmed down, looked at the damage she had done, looked at the devastated young man that she had assaulted and burst into tears.
"I'm sorry, oh God I'm so sorry."
This was one household that you didn't want to be in this night. The grief at what they all perceived as their possible loss was palpable. Tony was patched up and put to bed in Ripley's room. He slept, out of pure mental and emotional exhaustion.
The next morning, before anyone else stirred he had got onto the advertising desk of a national newspaper, ascertained that it would take a huge chunk of his savings to place a full page ad in the paper and dictated the message he and Tom had devised the previous day. He contacted an old university friend who was in commercial radio and TV, told him the story and begged his help.
Peter Douglas thought there was a brilliant human interest story here and determined to help Tony as much as he could. He didn't give a thought to what this could do to Tony's career if the story broke, with all the real names in place. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - After leaving home, Ripley walked to the major trunk road a couple of miles from his home and started hitch hiking. The first vehicle that stopped for him was a salesman returning to his home after a week away.
"Where are you heading Son?"
Ripley thought fast. The next big town was Coventry, so that was where he said.
"It's a bit late to be hitching isn't it?"
"Sort of," was the short reply.
A few more questions and the man had a pretty good idea he had a runaway on his hands.
"What are you going to do in Coventry?"
"I'm going to look for a job."
"Well, I'll tell you what I'm going to do then. I'll drop you at the YMCA, you get a good night's sleep and come to see me in the morning. We'll try to sort you out a job."
He gave Ripley a card and did as he said he would do. Ripley was delighted. He would be far enough away from home to be safe for a while. A job here would give him the opportunity to establish himself with a N.I. number and he could then move on.
The salesman got home, kissed his wife, hugged his teenage son and sat them down to tell them the story.
"I'm as sure as I can be that he's a runaway. He looks like a decent kid, so I'm going to try to help him."
"I'll help as well Dad if I can."
Ripley meanwhile is sleeping peacefully in a warm bed with no idea that forces are abroad working to help him. The next morning he dressed in his best clothes and went looking for Mr. Michael Peters, who worked for ABC Electronics. Reception soon had him in Michael's office.
"Hello sport, did you sleep well?"
"Oh yes Sir, thank you very much."
"Alright, I want you to sit down and write out a resume for me of your educational qualifications, your interests and any ideas you have about a career."
Michael's idea was to drag out an induction process while he checked with the police to see if they had a missing persons report that tallied with this boy, a long shot he knew but he needed to start somewhere. He got Ripley's full name and started the process of National Insurance registration. The mystery boy, who was quite patently, gorgeous, polite, intelligent, soon had all of the office staff interested in him. Everything that could be done was completed by lunch time so Michael had to come up with more ideas.
"Not sure what we can do with you Ripley, but I thought you might like to understudy me for a few days while we sort something more permanent."
Ripley couldn't believe his luck. He had been prepared for a hard time before he could get established, but here he was on day one undergoing induction into a job. YMCA again that night and bright as a button into work the next day. There was a change in atmosphere that he picked up on immediately. He began to feel uncomfortable as he realised everyone was watching him and talking as he passed, presumably about him. Michael was the only one who had changed for the better, he was full of smiles and spent a few hours walking him round the factory talking to him about their products.
"After you have done your A Levels and your degree Ripley, you might like to consider joining this firm. What are you going to do your degree in?"
"English, Sir, so I don't suppose I'll be much use here, but I don't think I'll be doing anymore schooling."
"Oh well, just keep it in mind, young graduates can always be moulded to our needs."
Michael was smiling, he had talked to Ripley's father that morning when the staff had pointed out the advert in the paper.
"It looks like it was a misunderstanding Michael, the boy needn't have run away."
"Well, we'll just have to make sure he gets home again then won't we?"
Mid morning and Ripley was drinking coffee in Michael's office when his father walked in.