Date: Thu, 11 Mar 2004 10:33:55 -0000
From: Drew Hunt <drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk>
Subject: The House On The Hill 4

To summarise the disclaimer, don't copy, don't read if you shouldn't and
don't be under the misapprehension that it's real, cause it isn't.  Short
and sweet, huh?

Thanks to my friends John and Lars for chucking in the odd comma and such.


Chapter 4

Nora Powers dropped her grandson off at 'The Big House' just after 4 pm on
Thursday.  Ben had been looking forward to the visit for the past couple of
days.

"Hello, young man."  Sarah greeted Ben at the front door.

"Erm, hello."  Ben replied.

"You've come to have a swim in our pool then?"  Sarah said opening the door
wider to admit him.

"Yes, please."

"Hi son."  Carl was busy sanding down one of the many banister rails on the
large staircase in the hallway.

"Hello dad, you okay?"

"Yeah, son, not bad at all.  Did you have a good time at school?"

"Oh, not bad, we're not doing that much because of the summer holidays,
they start at the end of next week."

"Shit!"  Carl said softly.  He'd forgotten that his son would be on holiday
for the six-week summer break.  He'd have to make arrangements for someone
to look after Ben whilst he worked.

"Hello again, Ben."  Robbie came out of the Library; he'd been busy sorting
out the books in there.  Frank, who had never bothered much with the
library, had allowed them to become disarranged.

"Hello, Mr Foster." Ben said.

"Oh, please call me Rob."

"Sorry."

"Have you brought your swimming trunks with you?"

"Oh yeah."

Robbie then led the young boy down the hall and into the large poolroom.

"Oh cool!"  Ben said once he'd entered the impressive room.

"Thought you'd like it in here.  You can get changed in one of the two
rooms over there."  Robbie pointed to the doors to their left.

Carl had asked Robbie if he'd mind staying in the pool with Ben, he didn't
want him to swim alone.  Robbie had agreed immediately.

Once they'd both changed and taken a quick shower, they got into the pool.

"Ben, is there something wrong with your back?"  Robbie asked after seeing
his guest walk rather stiffly.  He seemed to stoop and he was also walking
on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah I've got Rheumatoid arthritis.  The doctor said it would be good for
me to exercise in a swimming pool.  Dad's taken me to the one in town, but
they're shutting it soon.  I'm going to go to the one in the hospital, but
there's a waiting list to get in though."  Ben went on to tell Robbie about
the equipment they had there and how it could help him.

Robbie, who had picked up a little medical knowledge from Patrick, his late
partner, began to mull over how he could help the young lad.

"Okay then, do you use the breast stroke or the crawl?"

"Oh, the breast stroke."  Ben admitted.  "Though I'm not very fast.  Dad's
a much better swimmer than me."

"Oh I know, he's a great swimmer.  I can remember from our schooldays."
Robbie said, his mind drifting back to a teenage vision of male perfection,
coursing his way up and down the swimming lanes in the town pool during
swimming lessons they'd attended together.  Not to mention the many times
that Carl and Robbie had mucked about in this very pool.  Robbie had a
wistful smile on his face at the memory.

"Rob, can I ask you a really personal question?"  Ben said coming close to
him; they were both standing in the shallow end.

"Erm, yeah, I guess so."  Robbie said clearing his head of the visions of
Carl in a sleek black Speedo.

"Why did you and dad fall out?"

"Oh well, our lives kind of took different paths."

"I don't understand."  Ben persisted.

Robbie began to feel uncomfortable.  "Erm, well, erm...."

"Rob, I know I'm only twelve, and most people think I'm just a kid, but I'm
quite observant.  Or so my teachers tell me.  Rob did you stop seeing dad
because of mum?"

"Erm, well," Robbie was really feeling uncomfortable now.  He'd only ever
disclosed the real reasons for the break up with one other person, Sarah.
Though for some reason as Robbie looked deep into the brown-eyed pre-teen
standing next to him, the water from his recent shower still causing his
short brown hair to stick closely to his scalp, Robbie saw understanding, a
kindred spirit, someone who Robbie just knew wouldn't judge him harshly.
"Yes, Ben.  That was the reason."  Robbie said quietly.  He then dropped
his eyes to the water.

Ben, showing far more maturity than his years, raised a wet hand and lifted
up Robbie's chin, and said "Rob, were you in love with my dad?"

Robbie couldn't speak for a moment; he swallowed, opened his mouth, closed
it again, swallowed a second time and then in a hoarse whisper "I still
am."  He began to cry softly.

"It's okay, Rob, I understand."  Ben said wrapping his arms around Robbie
to comfort him.

"I think we ought to start swimming some laps, then we'll think of some
exercises for you to do, young man."  Robbie said in an effort to try and
move the conversation away from what was a most uncomfortable subject.

"Yeah, okay then."  Ben knew that he shouldn't push Robbie any further.
Robbie's declaration hadn't come as much of a surprise really.  Ben had
seen how Robbie had looked longingly at his dad the last time he'd been
present.  Rob being in love with his dad would most certainly explain why
he had to break off contact with him when his mother came onto the scene.

"What you told me, Rob, I promise I won't mention to dad."  He said wanting
to put the older man's mind at rest.

"Thanks, Ben.  I know your dad wouldn't be able to accept what I am, and
we're just starting to become friends again.  It isn't easy for me, but I
need your dad's friendship so much, even though it's painful at times."

Ben gave Robbie another hug in understanding.  "Right then, I'll do a
couple of laps, then if you'll hold me, I'll do a few stretches."

"Okay."

Robbie watched as Ben executed his laps.  He certainly wasn't as fast as
Carl, but he made a decent job of it none the less.  Robbie marvelled at
how grown up Ben was.  He knew that when he'd been Ben's age, he didn't
have the same level of maturity.  Carl was a very lucky man to have a son
like Ben.

"How's he doing?"  Carl's words caused Robbie to look up.

"Great.  I'm going to help him with a few exercises in a minute or two.
Have you finished for the day?"

"Yeah, the boss is a real slave driver, but I think I'll sneak off the job
early and go and have a swim in his private pool."  Carl joked.  Robbie saw
those well remembered dimples come out in Carl's cheeks.  Seeing Carl's
happy face made Robbie go all warm and tingly inside.  All he was able to
do was smile back.  Robbie hoped with everything that he had, that he and
Carl were getting their friendship back.

Carl walked into one of the changing rooms and donned his swimming trunks.
When he emerged, Robbie was sad to see that Carl had put on a rather baggy
pair of swim shorts.  Robbie had been looking forward to seeing Carl's
ample breadbasket.  Though, on reflection, perhaps it was best that he not
be tempted.  Carl had a mischievous grin on his face as he walked towards
the deep end.  He then dove into the pool from the side; Robbie didn't have
a diving board.  Robbie marvelled at how gracefully Carl had executed the
dive, hardly causing a ripple.  Swimming under the water towards his son
who hadn't noticed where his dad was, Carl surfaced and wrapped his arms
around him.

"Having fun?"  Carl said shaking the water from his eyes.

"Yeah dad, it's great in here.  Thanks for letting me come.  Rob said he'd
help me with some stretching exercises."

"That's good."  Carl said smiling at the most precious thing in his world.
He was glad that Robbie was getting on well with Ben.

"Look, Carl, Ben said something about floats and things that they use in
the hospital pool.  I've been thinking about getting some inflatable toys
and what not, so do you think it would be okay if I got some that would
specifically be of benefit to Ben, too?"

Robbie had mentioned the bit about toys in general; he didn't want Carl to
feel to uncomfortable about him showing off his money.  Not that a few
floats would be that expensive anyway, but at that stage in their
friendship, he didn't want to take any chances.

"Thanks, mate.  It's really good of you to care so much."  Carl said.  He
was rather touched at Robbie's gesture.  "Though I've no idea what type of
things he'll need."

"Oh, leave it to me to find out."

"Rob, are you and dad going to have a race?"  Ben called out from the other
side of the pool.

"God no, your dad's a much better swimmer than me.  I don't think I ever
beat him in any of the sports we played, did I?"  Robbie said turning to
Carl.

"Nah, you were always such a wimp."

Robbie took his revenge by splashing Carl.  Carl of course retaliated, and
a good-natured water fight began.

"Hey you two, who's going to play the hill for me?"  Ben asked wanting to
join in the fun.  The two men took it in turns to act as the hill to Ben's
king.  They all had a great time.  Robbie even got onto Carl's awesomely
broad shoulders a couple of times, too.  All three were becoming tired when
Sarah announced that tea was ready.

"Could we have it by the pool, Sarah?"  Robbie asked.

"Of course you can."  She smiled down at her employer and his friend; she
was pleased to see that they were getting on so well with one another.
Sarah had seen the pair behave rather formally towards each other at first,
but they seemed to be recapturing something of their previous closeness
recently.

Knowing that she was catering to a pre-teen, Sarah decided to serve up
hamburgers.  She'd got hold of a recipe for homemade burgers, which she
thought Ben would like.  So long as she served meat, and plenty of it, she
knew that her food would be a hit with the diners.  Though Sarah insisted
on serving a salad with the meal too; she wanted the food to be as
nutritionally balanced as possible.

The three sat at one of the wooden poolside tables, dripping water onto the
tiles below.  The heat from the pool combined with the late spring weather
outdoors, meant that they were warm enough.

"Oh Rob, these're great."  Ben said with a mouthful of burger.

"Ben!  How many times have I told you not to talk with your mouthful?"
Carl scolded.

Robbie smiled.  "It's okay."

A little later in the meal, Carl told his fellow diners' how his work was
progressing.  He loved working in older houses.  Although he was originally
a builder by trade, he actually felt more affinity to woodworking.  He
loved the feel, the warmth which wood exuded.  Carl was a craftsman, he
enjoyed creating things from his bare hands, and seeing those creations put
to good use.  He also liked working in the pleasant surroundings of
Robbie's house.  He'd always loved visiting the place as a boy, wondering
what it would be like to live there, settling down in the evening in front
of the large log burning fireplace in the Drawing room on a winter's
evening.

"Okay Ben, I guess we ought to be making a move home now."  Carl said after
thanking Rob for his hospitality.

"Aww, dad, can't we stay a bit longer?"

"I'm sure Rob has things to do, which don't involve listening to a spotty
lad like you."

"I'm not spotty!  Well, I've got this one blackhead here."  He pointed to a
minor blemish on his chin.

"No, honestly, I've got nothing planned, just another boring night in front
of the idiot box. You two can stay if you like."  Robbie said hoping they
would.  He'd really enjoyed the last couple of hours.  His two guests
seemed to compliment one another really well.  Carl the more dominant with
Ben adding surprisingly intelligent asides too.  Robbie couldn't remember
how long it had been since he'd had such a relaxing time.  Although he had
a few friends in London, not many could be classed as particularly close.
They always seemed to be discussing their work; Robbie had grown tired of
their seemingly constant games of competitive one-upmanship.

"Well, you've got school to get ready for tomorrow, and I've got things to
do as well.  There's a pile of ironing that needs doing.  Believe me Rob,
if I don't tackle it soon, we wont' have anything to wear."

Somehow Robbie couldn't picture his macho friend stood at an ironing board.

"Yeah, and he's rubbish at it, too."  Ben said narrowly avoiding a playful
swipe to his left ear from his father.

"Okay, but we really must do this again, and soon."  Robbie told the pair.
"I don't know about you, but I've really enjoyed myself this evening."

"Yeah, I have too."  Carl added.

Robbie's guests went into the changing rooms, showered off the chlorine and
got back into their street clothes.  Robbie remained in his seat mulling
over their dinner conversation.

Ben had asked Carl if he could spend some of the summer up at the house,
swimming and reading some of Robbie's books.

Carl told him that Robbie would have other plans for the summer.  Robbie
said that he was going to try and start up writing some computer software,
but he had no definite hard and fast rule on when to begin.  He said he'd
welcome Ben's company.  Carl had been pleased because otherwise Ben would
have had to stop at his grandparents' house.  Whilst this was okay for the
odd day, he knew that Ben soon grew bored.  His dad had two topics of
conversation, building and sport.  Neither of which interested Ben.  Carl's
mother still worked part time at Woolworth's, so he knew that Ben would
often be faced with sitting with his granddad for extended periods.  Stan
couldn't get out all that often due to his Parkinson's disease.

Not wishing to impose on Robbie's generosity, Carl told his impatient son
that he'd think about allowing him to spend some of the summer at the
house.  Robbie remembered Ben turning to him and saying in a stage whisper,
"It's alright Rob, I'll work on him."  This caused the other two to laugh.

* * * * *

"Okay Rob, I'll see you tomorrow at eight?"  Carl said just as he and Ben
emerged from the changing rooms.

"Yeah mate, no problem."  Robbie showed his guests out of the house, and
then he returned to the changing rooms and cleaned himself up.

* * * * *

That evening Robbie thought he'd go on the Internet and do some research on
Ben's condition, seeing if he could help alleviate his symptoms.  It seemed
that the Jacuzzi family had initially developed their famous whirlpool to
help arthritis sufferers.  Robbie would have ordered a Jacuzzi on the spot,
but common sense told him that Carl would feel desperately uncomfortable
about him throwing his money around.  Therefore he did a search for pool
equipment.  He jotted down some ideas, but thought he better contact the
hospital the next day, just to make sure.

* * * * *

"It was great at Rob's house, wasn't it, dad?"

Once Carl had made a ham-fisted attempt at the ironing, he and Ben had
settled themselves on the sofa and watched TV.  Much to Carl's delight, Ben
had asked to adopt the same positions as of a few nights earlier.

"Yeah son, I remember using the pool years ago, me and Rob would spend
hours in the thing."  Carl's mind drifted back to the really comfortable
camaraderie that he and Robbie used to share; the two never seemed to
argue, Rob just seemed to tag along with whatever Carl suggested. Frank,
Robbie's dad labelled them 'Me and my shadow', Carl smiled at the
remembered epithet.

"I really would like to spend some of the summer up there with him, dad.
He's a really neat guy.  What with the pool, his library and his computer,
I'd have a good time there."

"I wouldn't want you getting under his feet, Ben."

"Oh dad, I wouldn't do that.  If he needs to work, I can easily find a book
to read or something.  My back feels much easier tonight after being in the
pool.  It sure beats those horrible floor exercises."

"I think you need to do those as well, son."

"Yuck."  Ben pulled a face.

"Okay, maybe we'll let you off with them today, then."

Ben turned round in his dad's arms and kissed his cheek.  "You're the best
dad in the world."  He treated Carl to a hug, and then he turned sideways
and rested the left side of his head on Carl's right shoulder.  Carl drew
his strong arms around his son and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

"And you're the best son in the world too."  Carl said, kissing the top of
Ben's head.

The two remained in the same position for some time, neither of them
needing to speak.  They continued to watch the wildlife documentary, which
was detailing the rather gory life of the White Shark.

Ben, who wasn't really scared, would give his dad an extra squeeze during
the more violent scenes.

" It's almost your bedtime, special son of mine." Carl eventually said.

"Yeah, guess so."  Ben said reluctantly.  He was rather comfortable where
he was on the couch with his dad.  "At least I don't need to take a bath
tonight, because of the shower at Rob's."

"That's true.  Have you got your books all packed for tomorrow's lessons?"

"Yeah dad, I always do."

"I know, you're a good kid.  You looking forward to going up to St
Winifred's next year?"

"Err, no."

"Why's that?  It's a good school, you know."

"Yeah, but I don't like Penguins."  This was the rather unkind nickname for
the nuns who taught at the school.  "Why do I have to go to a Catholic
school, dad?  We're not Catholic."

"Well, it's a much better school than the comprehensive.  You'll get a
really good education there, and the Penguins aren't that bad really.  At
least now Sister Margarita's retired.  She was a bit fierce.  I remember
when Rob stepped on the old dragon's foot.  That was when we first met
actually.  He'd come round the corner and knocked the books I was carrying
out of my hands.  Once he'd picked them up, he kind of stepped backward and
onto Sister Margarita's foot."

Ben laughed.

"Anyway, you'll be okay at St Winifred's."

"Yeah, guess so.  Some of my friends from my class are going too.  Though
I'm not looking forward to having loads of new people to get used to."  St
Winifred's was fed by a number of middle schools in the area.

"I'm sure you'll be okay once you settle in."  Carl was always naturally
outgoing, he didn't quite understand the problems that more reserved people
faced in new situations.

"Go on up to bed, I'll be up in a bit to tuck you in."

"Can I have a story, please, daddy?"  Ben said affecting a little boy's
voice.

"Only if baby Ben is a very good boy."  Carl said playing along.

As Ben scampered up the stairs, Carl smiled and thanked whoever it was for
sending Ben to him.  He was blessed, and he knew it.

After watching the end of the wildlife documentary, 'Why do they always
concentrate on shark's?' Carl mused; he turned off the set, performed his
usual nighttime checks, and ascended the stairs.  He went into his son's
room and sat on the bed looking down at his boy.

"I think you're a bit old for 'Goldilocks And The Three Bears' aren't you?"

Ben giggled.  "Yeah well, why don't you read this then."  Ben handed over a
much-thumbed copy of 'Harry Potter'.

"Again?"

"Yeah, it's my favourite."  Ben admitted.

"Okay then.  Are you sitting comfortably?  Then I'll begin."  This was the
tag line to 'Listen With Mother', a radio programme that Carl often heard
when he was very small.  Ben liked to hear the line, even though the
majority of the times he heard it, he was actually lying in bed, and not
sitting, but it was one of the many comforting rituals that he and Carl
revelled in performing together.  Ben lay back and listened to his father's
rich but soft voice speaking the familiar words.

Ben looked up into his dad's face, which was illuminated by his bedside
light; the left side of the face was in shadow.  As Carl read, Ben mused at
how lonely his dad's life was.  He rarely had a night out, only
occasionally going for a drink with other men from the building sites he
sometimes worked on.  Ben could never remember his dad going out on a date
with a woman.

"I think that's enough for tonight, Squirt."  Carl said closing the book
and rubbing his eyes.  It had been a long day for him; he'd put in several
hours at Robbie's, and although the work wasn't that physically demanding
it took a fair amount of his concentration.

"Yeah dad, thanks."

"Your very welcome."  Carl said as he stood up, straightened his son's
bedclothes and ruffled his hair.  "Sleep tight."

"And don't let the bed bugs bite."  Ben finished the familiar line.

Carl smiled down at his son lying in his single bed; he reached over and
turned off the bedside light, walked to the door, turned round, gave his
son one last glance, and then he padded along to his own bedroom.

Carl got into the double bed alone.  He'd slept alone for the past eight or
so years; he considered having a wank, but frankly didn't feel like it.
Jerking off let out a little of the tension, but it did little else,
really.  Carl had shared the bed with Maureen; she'd been his only sex
partner.  He'd heard stories on the building sites filled with lurid
details of how to bang a woman, he was secretly revolted by their crude
words, but not wishing to seem different, he joined in with the bawdy
banter.  He, along with his mates, would whistle and catcall at any likely
looking female who passed by.  In truth his sex life at home had fallen off
considerably.  Towards the end of their relationship, Carl and Maureen had
sex a couple of times a month. Even though wanking wasn't that
satisfactory, it seemed to Carl to be more enjoyable than making love with
his wife. Carl didn't know why he felt that way, he just concluded that he
had a low sex drive; he certainly couldn't discuss it with anyone.  He then
thought about the precious soul lying in the bedroom across the landing. He
realised that although he slept alone, he was happier than he had a right
to expect.  Plumping up his pillows, Carl turned over and drifted into a
dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

It was Friday morning, and Robbie was having a frustrating phone call.  He
was trying to get some information out of the physiotherapy department at
the hospital.  He was attempting to find out what equipment they had in the
pool to aid joint mobility.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot discuss individual patients care with you."  The
technician or whatever he was at the other end of the phone explained to
Robbie impatiently.

"Yes, I'm fully aware of that.  I'm speaking hypothetically."

The technician didn't understand, and tried again to fob Robbie off with
the usual blanket declaration of non-disclosure of patient information.

"Could I speak to your senior, please?"  Robbie eventually said.

"She'll only tell you the same as me."

"Put her on!"  Robbie said through gritted teeth.

A moment later a pleasant sounding female voice came over the instrument.
"Can I help you at all?"

Robbie took a deep breath and began.  "Oh, believe me, I hope so.  I have a
friend who suffers from Ankylosing Spondylitis, he is not a patient of
yours yet."  Robbie hoped this would block the expected comments.  "I have
access to a swimming pool, and I understand there are certain pieces of
equipment I could buy that would help him to support his spine, etc, and
help to alleviate his symptoms.  I've been on the Internet and got some
ideas, but I'd like to run them past you, if I may?"

The woman understood Robbie's question, and spent a few minutes out-lining
what equipment the hospital had, or would like to have.  She pointed out
reasonably that everyone's condition differed; therefore not every piece of
equipment would be suitable.  Though she did say that the patient was often
the best judge of what worked best for him.

Robbie made a few notes, thanked the unnamed woman profusely, then he went
down the backstairs; Carl was working on the main staircase. He told both
Carl and Sarah that he was going out for a while, and not to prepare lunch
for him.

The woman on the phone had told Robbie where he could get hold of the
equipment he was seeking.  Robbie headed for Liverpool, a city he hadn't
been to for quite some years.  Though fortunately the specialist sporting
goods shop was on the outskirts of the city.  Robbie bought what he thought
he might need, as well as a couple of Lilo air mattresses, a beach ball,
and some other fun items, too.  His dad, who had rarely got into the pool,
had never thought of buying such things.

As he was driving back home, Robbie mused at why he was doing these things.
Although he'd not exactly labelled himself as a philanthropist, he just
enjoyed doing small things to help those he cared about.  Was he trying to
engineer things so Ben and by extension Carl would spend more time with
him?  Robbie didn't know.

Although he'd only spent a few moments alone with Ben, Robbie had disclosed
his biggest darkest secret to him.  He couldn't understand why he'd spoken
aloud to someone he barely knew.  It was just something in those kind
understanding eyes of Ben's, which told him that he could unburden himself.
The tears he'd shed were ones of relief; at last someone else knew that he,
Robert James Foster, had been and still was deeply in love with Carl
Anthony Powers.  The remembered declaration, though it was only uttered at
a low volume, gave Robbie a warm feeling as he drove home.  And his love
would be home waiting for him; Robbie blocked out the fact that Carl was
unaware that he was loved, and he was only there because he was being paid
to do a job of work.  These were mere details.  Parking his BMW in the
garage out the back, Robbie entered the house via the rear of the house,
and stowed away his goodies without Carl seeing them.  He so wanted Carl
and Ben to spend another evening by the pool, but common sense told him
that he mustn't be greedy; they had their own lives to lead, and Robbie
didn't want to come across as being too desperate for friendship.

* * * * *

Later that day, when Carl had packed away his tools, he said his goodbyes
to Robbie.  He had hoped that his friend would invite him to swim, or even
just to talk for a little while.  Ben was busy with an after-school
activity, so Carl would be at a loose end.  Robbie hadn't offered, and Carl
didn't feel comfortable enough to bring up the subject.  So because of
their lack of communication, two people parted, neither of them wanting the
separation.

As Carl drove home, he realised that he'd only be working at the house for
a few more days.  This saddened him.  He'd enjoyed the odd few words that
he'd exchanged with Robbie as their paths had crossed.  Carl even quite
liked Mrs Grimes, Robbie's cook.  She'd always had a smile for him when he
had visited as a youngster, sneaking him an extra biscuit or piece of pie
when no one else was looking.  Though Carl loved his own mother very much,
she had never been a particularly good cook; therefore Carl had regarded
Sarah's small acts of kindness as being particularly welcome.

* * * * *

To be continued.