The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (10 page)

"Now he
is
one," interjected
Louise.

"Be quiet, Louise," said Mum.
"Go on, Daniel."

"Well, Simon said that Miss Day
said that it was someone who should never have been born, and Simon
got upset about it coz that's what they all call him."

"Because", emphasised Dad.

"Mm?" Daniel frowned, puzzled at
the interruption.

"Because, not coz, Daniel," said
Dad, "I keep telling you to speak properly. It is important."

"Yes, Dad," said Daniel, "but I
was talking about Simon."

"So talk about him using proper
language then, please."

"O.K. Dad," said Daniel, who
felt this opportunity of enlightenment slipping away. "What I mean
is, when Simon asked me about it I wasn't really sure what to say
to him." Daniel sensed the chance to earn credit, and added, "He
was really upset and I wanted to try and help him."

"Saint Daniel!" mocked
Louise.

Trust her to spoil it, thought
Daniel. I wish she weren't here.

"That's very good of you, love,"
said Mum, approvingly, "but it's a difficult problem really."

Daniel looked expectantly at
Mum, and Mum looked expectantly at Dad. Dad was suddenly engrossed
in the difficulties of spreading butter carefully right into the
corners of the bread. Mum sighed to herself and continued.

"All it means, Daniel," she
said, "is that someone's mother and father are not married when
they are born. I don't think Miss Day can have meant that he
shouldn't have been born. That's a terrible thing to say about a
child. And as far as I know, his parents are married. I know Kate,
er, Simon's mother, reasonably well. Simon probably didn't hear
properly."

"He's a bit dim, that kid," said
Louise.

"Louise, if you can't think of
anything helpful to say, then keep quiet," snapped Mum. "Can we
just get on with our meal, please."

"Sorry I spoke," pouted
Louise.

Daniel grinned at her
discomfort, despite his annoyance at the curtailing of the
conversation. He wanted the information to maintain his ascendancy
over Simon.

"Don't crow over your minor
victories, Daniel," said Dad, "they may be short-lived. I seem to
remember it's your turn to help wash up tonight. And you've your
piano practice to do."

It was Louise's turn to
grin.

Later, as Daniel was putting the
dishes away with his Mum, he broached the subject again.

"Is Simon one of those?" he
asked her.

She regarded her son
quizzically. "You are persistent, aren't you? Almost certainly not.
His parents are married I'm sure. But they say his Dad was married
before the war and they got divorced. Some people think that
divorce is wrong and a later marriage doesn't count."

"So what about any children
then?"

"Oh, I see what you mean. Look,
Simon's parents got married before he was born so he is not
illegitimate, neither is his sister – what's her name?"

"Frances," supplied Daniel,
eager to maintain the momentum.

"Oh, yes," continued Mum, "but
there are some silly people who can't accept that because his
father was married before. At least, that's what people say. Maybe
someone said something like that and that's how all this silly name
calling started."

Daniel digested this for a
moment. "Is he really his Dad?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure," said Mum,
"they were married during the war. I shouldn't be saying this to
you, Daniel. Don't you go repeating what I've said."

"No, Mum," said Daniel
automatically, while he thought how to ask the next, vital
question.

"Pass me the big plates," said
Mum.

"Does it show?" asked Daniel,
holding up the dinner plates.

"Show?" said Mum, puzzled. "What
do you mean? Where's the salt and pepper?"

Daniel looked for the salt and
pepper, and passed them over to Mum who put them in the kitchen
cabinet.

"On you," said Daniel, searching
for words, "I mean, can you tell from looking?"

Mum laughed. "Of course not.
Simon doesn't look any different from any other boy, does he? He's
just an ordinary little boy, like any other. Nobody can be blamed
for who their parents are, Daniel. I think his father had a hard
time in the war. People should try to be a bit more understanding.
He got a medal, you know. His Mum seems very nice. Fetch me the
teapot, please."

Breathing quickly with the
tension of the situation, Daniel handed over the teapot. This was
getting close, but maybe too close. What could he say?

"Oh Daniel," said Mum, "you
forgot the teapot lid."

"Even undressed?" asked Daniel,
as casually as he could.

Mum stopped rinsing the teapot
out, and turned to Daniel. "What do you mean? How can it?"

Daniel suddenly had a brainwave.
"You know before when we went to the baths coz Simon wanted me to
teach him how to swim?"

"Because!" corrected Mum. "Yes,
I remember. Not very successfully, as I recall."

"Well, when we were in the
changing cubicle, I couldn't help noticing that the end" - Daniel
sought the correct word for cock - "of his penis was different, and
he thought, I mean I thought..."

Mum was laughing. "O dear,
Daniel," she laughed. "You mean he's circumcised." She laughed
again. "Lots of boys are. Sometimes their religion demands it, like
the Jews, other times the foreskin is too tight and has to be
removed. It's nothing to do with being illegitimate; that's the
proper word for a bastard. You are funny."

Daniel did not think this was
especially funny, as a new aspect struck him. "But they sent the
Jews away to camps and gassed them, didn't they?"

Mum was still amused at Daniel's
naivety, failed to catch the solemnity of her son's question.

"Yes dear, but that was because
Hitler hated the Jews because they were Jews, not because they were
circumcised. Now run along, there's a good boy. I want to hear that
piece, note perfect."

Pleased with his new
information, Daniel went into the back room, specially extended,
where the large Bösendorfer grand piano stood, and started his
practice. After a few scales, he started on his new piece, and soon
was lost in the magical pattern of the notes, revelling in the way
his hands running across the keyboard could stir this big machine
into making wonderful music. In the kitchen, Mrs Gray, herself a
skilled pianist, nodded approvingly.

1. 1955/10 Onward Christian
   Soldiers
   

The confrontation came at
morning playtime, but it started earlier. In Assembly, Miss Harvey
stopped the singing of "Onward Christian Soldiers" to complain
about the singing.

Onward, Christian soldiers,
marching as to war,

With the cross of Jesus going
on before.

Christ, the royal Master, leads
against the foe;

Forward into battle see His
banners go!

Onward, Christian soldiers,
marching as to war,

With the cross
of Jesus going on before
.

Just as the children were
singing the chorus for the second time, Miss Harvey banged on the
lectern that stood at the front of the hall during assemblies. Miss
Smith, the young teacher who played the piano visibly startled,
played one disharmonious chord and stopped, turning to Miss Harvey
with a fearful expression on her face.

"Thank you, Miss Smith," said
Miss Harvey, somehow managing to convey menace in that simple
statement, also the fact that she did not feel thankful at all; it
was a mere formality.

Miss Harvey turned her attention
to the assembled school. The singing had tailed off and the
children now stood in their lines, regarding the headmistress with
some apprehension. The teachers, stood at each side of the hall,
glared at the children.

"Marching!" declaimed Miss
Harvey. "Marching!"

Simon saw one or two of the
teachers exchange glances, but when he looked again, their faces
were completely expressionless.

"Not Mar Chin!" continued Miss
Harvey, "It has I-N-G on the end. MarchING! I don't want to hear
anyone singing Mar Chin! Miss Smith!"

Miss Smith jumped again, and
looked questioningly at Miss Harvey.

"Carry on, Miss Smith, please,"
commanded Miss Harvey.

"We'll start verse two again,"
said Miss Smith to the school, watching Miss Harvey out of the
corner of her eye. Miss Harvey appeared content with that, so Miss
Smith struck the note to give the children the key, paused and then
the repeat of verse two got underway.

"
Like a mighty army moves the church of God...
"
sang the children. As the verse ended, and the chorus began, Miss
Harvey craned forward slightly, listening intently to the
words.

"Onward Christian soldiers,

Marching as to war,"

Simon distinctly heard Barry
Spence, standing just behind him say "MAR CHIN" with just enough
clarity for it to be heard, yet not enough for the culprit to be
obvious to those not as close as Simon.

"With the cross....."

Miss Harvey straightened, banged
furiously on the lectern and brought the singing to a halt. She
turned and glared straight at Simon. He felt himself redden, and
despite his best efforts, he literally started to quake in his
shoes. Simon knew he was looking guilty, and that knowledge only
compounded the circumstances and led to further appearance of
guilt.

"Simon Scott!" shouted Miss
Harvey. "You deliberately disobeyed me."

Simon sensed that this was the
command to confess his guilt in front of the whole school. But he
could not do that. Simon knew who was responsible, but dared not
look round at Barry Spence. Instead he looked at Miss Harvey and
was aware of the younger classes who were stood in front, between
Simon and Miss Harvey, turning round to view the object of Miss
Harvey's accusation, the sea of silent faces making him even more
confused and frightened.

"Miss, it wasn't me," said
Simon.

"Do you deny it?" demanded Miss
Harvey, angrily. "What is it that wasn't you?"

"Please Miss, it wasn't me that
sang Mar Chin."

Miss Harvey lifted her head in
triumph.

"I did not say in what way you
had disobeyed me, boy. You have just admitted your guilt in front
of the whole school, haven't you?"

Simon knew when he was beaten,
and just stayed silent, head down, looking at the grey socks of the
second year boy standing in front him, and finding time to notice
the two green hoops around the tops, and the line of his thigh
muscles as his legs disappeared into his grey school short
trousers. Then Simon heard Miss Day's voice.

"It was someone here, Miss
Harvey, but I'm not sure if it was Simon."

Simon's hopes rose as he heard
Miss Day speak up for him, only for them to crash as he heard his
enemy's scornful retort.

"Well, Miss Day, I have just
heard the boy admit he knew what he had done. We all heard it,
didn't we?" she demanded of the school en masse.

"Yes Miss," replied the school
dutifully en masse.

Simon looked up to see Miss
Harvey's triumphant face, and Miss Day's embarrassed face,
downcast. Simon felt grateful for her intervention, but he knew
that it was to no avail. For some reason, he knew that it was his
role in life to take the blame, and nothing could stop the
inevitability of that, not Day, not Daniel, not Mummy.

Miss Harvey picked up her cane,
that was never far away and flexed it with both hands.

"Simon Scott, we will deal with
you at the end of assembly. Thank you, Miss Smith, verse two
again."

The singing started, and Simon
noticed that Barry Spence sang MARCHING this time.

The assembly seemed to last an
age to Simon. Each time he raised his eyes, Miss Harvey seemed to
be watching him. Simon started to cry, the tears rolling down his
cheeks in a slow procession.

At the end, after the prayers,
in which Miss Harvey called upon the children to love each other
for the sake of Lord Jesus, who loved each and every one of them,
the dreaded moment arrived.

"Scott! Come out here!"

Simon willed his feet out of
their place in the line facing the front of the hall and walked to
the side of the hall and slowly down to the front, to stand in
front of Miss Harvey. His head hung, looking sideways he could see
the children looking at him.

Then Miss Harvey thought of a
new way to extend Simon's torment.

"Mrs. Hastings, I think the
infants should return to their classes before I administer the
punishment."

Simon turned and for a moment
his eyes met with those of Mrs. Hastings. Somehow, she managed to
convey to him a message of warmth in that brief instant, before she
turned and led the infants with their teachers out of the hall.

"Now then, junior school," said
Miss Harvey, "it is my unpleasant duty to demonstrate that
obedience is the first lesson that must be learnt. Watch and learn
yourselves."

Like some spectre of death, the
headmistress turned to Simon.

"What have go to say for
yourself, boy?"

"Please Miss, it wasn't me,"
Simon replied, so quietly through his tears that only Miss Harvey
could have heard him. Simon wondered as he said it how he got the
courage to maintain his defence, despite the overwhelming evidence
against him; or was it just desperation to avoid the pain to come?
Simon knew she hated him, and there was nothing he could do about
it. Certainly, Simon's temerity in maintaining his innocence fired
her up now.

"How dare you!" she snapped.
"Bend over!"

At the front of the hall, in
front of all the juniors, Simon slowly leant forward, feeling the
pressure of Miss Harvey's hand on his back until he reached an
acceptable angle. He saw Barry Spence smirking and behind his own
class, the fourth years, some of them laughing quietly. He sought
Daniel's face in vain. If only he could find Daniel, it wouldn't be
so bad. He was aware of himself on the stage, in front of the
school, as though watching himself. He tried to pretend it was a
film.