Date: Sun, 16 Feb 2014 08:52:02 +1100
From: Robert A. Armstrong <rob.aa@hotmail.com>
Subject: Schoolie - Chapter 25

If you are new to this story, may I suggest that you read from the
beginning, to understand the plot and the characters.

If you are a regular, thank you for your continued interest!

Warning: If relationships between boys and men is not your scene, or if
you're under age, or if it is not legal for you to be reading this, then
please leave, now, before somebody finds out!

Otherwise, enjoy!



From Chapter 24


I contemplate the plight of my little sister at her vulnerable and needy
age, being left without a mother, without Mum, and I burst into tears
again. I revert to a childhood habit and wipe my nose and eyes with my
forearm and shirt sleeve.

"Come on son," Mum says, trying to be positive. "Let's go and get a fresh
coffee and sit out by the pool. I would not want Amelia or Will to see you
upset when they emerge from her drawing lesson. Let's talk about some good
things, like Uncle Bill, and Will's future as an artist." She pulls a small
handful of tissues from the box on Dad's desk and hands most of them to me,
dabbing at her own eyes with the others.

We pass Amelia's closed door. Their laughter is evidence that Will is
making this lesson an enjoyable one too.

I go straight to the table by the pool, almost inadvertently glancing up to
Simon's balcony. Nobody there. The memory of our fun brings a slight smile
to my dial and I mop away the remnants of my tears. I hope that my eyes are
not red and puffy. I use the tissues in an attempt to fan away the heat
that I feel, and to accelerate the evaporation of any remaining moisture.

Mum emerges with a plate of custard tarts. "The coffee will be ready in a
minute. You still like these, I hope?" She waves the plate in front of my
face. Now that's a perfect example of a redundant question, if ever I heard
one! "I thought that they might help."

There are five. One each for Mum, me, Sis and Will. She sees me counting
and doing the mental arithmetic. "If we leave four for when they others
come down, they'll never know that you had a head start!" She smirks at
me. She knows me like nobody else does. I love her. I contemplate `only 3-6
months?' And for nearly all of that time I won't be here with her and Dad
and Amelia. I'll be teaching back in The Village. At least I will have
Will. But he's not Mum. I love them both, but it's different. Perhaps God
has led me to Will to ease the pain of losing her. Is that ridiculous? It's
not fair! It's not an eye for an eye! It's a love for a love! That's cruel!
I want both.

OMG. How is Amelia going to cope?


Chapter 25


"Mum?" I ask hesitantly, intent on trying to keep my emotions in
check. "Who knows, apart from Dad and me?"

"When I first found out, I discussed it with Aunty Doris and Karen. Knowing
that Karen is studying nursing, I wanted to check with her knowledge what I
was being told. She confirmed almost everything, except the need for
chemotherapy. Apparently she is not alone in being very sceptical about its
effectiveness and she told me that there are alternatives which I could, or
should, consider.

When I brought up other possibilities with my specialist, he simply
dismissed them as `rubbish' or `quackery'.

"Why doesn't Karen like chemo? Isn't that the accepted way to treat
cancer?" I ask.

"Karen quoted me some statistics, saying that the medical profession
consider chemo to have been successful if the patient lives for at least 5
years after having it."

"That's good," I encourage Mum. "What is the success rate?"

Mum replies somewhat despondently, "Sadly, only 3%-5%."

My fleeting hope evaporates instantly.

She adds, "and radiation therapy is only used when the cancer is localised,
not widespread as mine is."

I voice my limited knowledge on the subject, "Mum, I've heard that chemo
can be very effective in attacking cancers cells all over the body but is
it true that it also attacks and weakens the good cells? Is that the
problem?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Karen told me that the worst part is that it weakens
the body's immune system - the very thing that is capable of fighting the
cancer. So I have a choice - have the chemo and endure the side effects,
like increased lassitude, general weakness, hair loss and progressive
debilitation, or try to focus on strengthening my immune system and hope
for the best."

"How can you do that?" I ask, a glimmer of hope returning to my mind.

"Karen is doing some research for me. That's why she wanted to get away
today instead of staying for dinner. Oh, and my specialist told me that if
I declined to have the chemo and opted for some alternative, then he would
refuse to treat me in the future. It's not much of a choice except the
quality of life in the time remaining, is it?"

Anger suddenly replaces my fear and misery. I would love an alternative
treatment to be successful, not only because of Mum's health and life, but
I would want to rub the specialist's nose in it! It's obvious that he's not
focussed on saving my mother's life. It sounds like, to him, she is merely
another opportunity to make money from somebody else's misfortune, or to
use her as a guinea pig for a new toxic cocktail of chemicals. I'm glad
that the majority of those who have taken the Hippocratic Oath are not like
him. Hypocrite! Hmm, `Hypocritic Oath' seems more relevant!

A few minutes are spent in silence while I devour a custard tart. Mum sips
her coffee with a contemplative smile as she watches me make it
disappear. I find myself gazing mindlessly into the ripples and crystal
clearness of the pool.

When I hear Sis clattering down the stairs, I turn to see her clutching
some papers. Will is right behind her. Both are chattering and
laughing. He's good for her too! Not just for me.

"Mum, Thomas," she calls. "Look at these!" She drops the papers onto the
table and spreads them out. She and Will sit down.

Will spots the custard tarts. "Would you like fries with that?" I ask. Will
looks at me curiously without comprehending my attempted humour. Obviously
I've seen too many Macdonalds advertisements and he hasn't seen enough!

"Coffee? Lemonade?" I ask them, looking from Will to Mum for her need of a
second cup. She shakes her head, indicating that she still has half a cup
remaining.

I head to the kitchen for coffee for Will and me and I can hear Sis
extolling the virtues of her drawings with their new-found facial features.

At this rate, she may even be able to draw a recognisable face by the time
Will and I leave next week. Then I think, `well, it may look like a face
but will it be anyone recognisable?' That makes me smile.

When I return with the two coffees Sis is still talking. I muse whether she
will turn blue or purple if she doesn't pause for a breath.

Will and I devour a custard tart each. Mum cuts hers neatly into wedges and
eats them far more elegantly than we do. Sis hasn't touched hers. She can't
eat and talk at the same time. Well, not politely!

There is a sudden silence and I realise that Amelia has shut up. I'm
tempted to ask sarcastically, `What did you say?' but I restrain myself,
fearing that she might actually repeat it all.

Mum, Will and I all offer our encouragement which is received in much the
same manner as a cat responds to being stroked. She gathers her papers and
stands, appearing as though she is about to dash off.

Will looks from her to the now-lone custard tart, then back again. "Are you
going to eat that?" he asks.

"Nah! I'll get fat. You have it."

He again looks at the pastry, then at me. "Wanna share it?" he offers.

"No, buddy. It's all yours." I wink at Mum.

I'm anticipating a `Hell, yeh!' but hear "Wow. Thanks!" instead.

Mum informs us that Uncle Bill will be joining us for dinner again tonight
and that he is actually bringing the food - Chinese or Thai - apparently he
hadn't decided which when he rang earlier and Mum said that she had no
preference. Then she excuses herself, saying that her morning with Aunty
Doris, Karen and Amelia had left her tired and in need of some rest.

Will and I are left alone. He is ensuring that the plate has no crumbs
remaining. "You know that the Acropolis in Big Town makes pretty good
ones?" I comment.

"What? These?" he replies. I nod. "I'm gonna have to go into town with you
and Marty more often," he says as he licks his fingers clean, for the
second or third time.

"Will?"

"Yes, bro?"

"Could you please do something for me?"

"What? Out here, with your Mum and sister at home? Can't you wait until
tonight?" he replies with mock horror.

"Not that, you wicked sexy sod!" I say, looking into his mischievous
eyes. "You can do whatever you like to me in bed later." He rapidly raises
his eyebrows multiple times in glee.

"No. What I would like is, could you please do a drawing of Mum, Dad,
Amelia and me?"

"Sure! No problem! Any special reason?"

"Yes, actually. But, let's just say that I'd like it to be a surprise."

"OK. Give me a day or so. How do you want the four of you arranged in the
picture?"

I explain my thoughts and he nods. I also think that I'll take the
opportunity to have Uncle Bill take a series of family photographs - and
include Will. Maybe, Sis, Will and me; Dad and Mum; Mum and me, and one of
all of us.

I feel my emotions starting to rise so, rather than succumbing to them, I
suggest that Will and I walk to the mall.

The afternoon is spent walking, looking into shop windows and,
occasionally, browsing merchandise inside some shops. Will takes more than
a cursory interest in the electronic games shop. He points out a couple
that Sam, at the motel, showed him. He also comments how much he thinks
that Karl and Kurt would enjoy playing certain ones.

With no other customers in the shop, the curly-headed young guy emerges
from behind his counter and offers us the usual, "Good afternoon,
gentlemen. May I help you?"

Despite replying that we are just browsing, he hovers closely, offering
comments on some of the games that Will picks up to look at more
closely. He also appears to be checking Will out.

It doesn't take much for my horny little brother to catch on, and
deliberately engages him with questions. He looks at me and winks. He's
toying with the poor guy, but it's fun for me to watch. I'm sure that the
blond salesman has no idea that he, himself, had become the character in a
game being played by Will.

He begins to select games and, having seen the sort in which Will has shown
interest, offers them to him with comments on their objective, how they are
played, their level of difficulty, etc.. I move to an adjoining display
and, while pretending to look at the merchandise, I really just watch the
interplay between Will and `the guy'.

I notice, as games are passed back and forth between them, that there is
some deliberate touching - standing close together and lightly holding the
other person's hand until the object is released. It's not as covert as
either of them might think!

Will turns to me, hold up a game, as if seeking my opinion, then winks. He
knows exactly what he is doing! I nod and give him the `H' sign. He smirks.

If Will hasn't seen the emerging bulge in the front of the young guy's
close-fitting work trousers, then I certainly have! The guy finally
succumbs to the need to release the straining member and, as discretely as
he can manage, jiggles his gear to a more comfortable position.

I tell Will that I think we should move on. The salesman looks disappointed
but when I comment to Will that we can come back again with the intent of
purchasing a console and some games to take back to The Village with us,
the young guy, obviously realising the possibility of both making a sale
and of seeing Will again, smiles and offers Will and me each a business
card from his shirt pocket.

I glance at his name and say, "Thank you, Jarrod. You can count on seeing
us again, soon."

He shakes both my hand and Will's, which he appears to hold longer than
necessary, commenting, "I look forward to helping you when you return. It's
been a pleasure meeting you." I think to myself, `I'll bet it has!'

Thank he adds, "Oh. I'm here Monday thru Thursday, and on Saturday I have
another staff member with me." What I actually hear, between the lines is,
`I'm here alone four days each week.'

I deliberately use Will's name in case Jarrod missed it the first
time. "Will, let's talk about what you would like to buy when we come
back. Then I deliberately drop the innuendo, "I'm sure that Jarrod has
something hidden away that you would enjoy playing with." Jarrod seems to
blush, then, as Will walks away from him and towards me, Jarrod takes the
opportunity to again adjust the bulkiness in his trousers.

He lifts his eyes from Will's backside and catches me staring straight at
him. His eyes express some concern, even fear, but I smile at him,
deliberately and openly jiggle my own gear and give him an exaggerated
wink. I think he relaxes somewhat and smiles back, albeit tentatively, then
hurries back behind his counter, presumably to make a final clothing
adjustment. Will says nothing.

As we continue walking, I say, "Will, do you realise what you did to that
poor guy?"

"What?" Will asks, being anything but innocent or convincing in his
pretended naivety.

"You mean that you didn't notice the hard-on that you gave him, touching
him and standing so close to him?"

"Of course! But he started it! He was checking me out, big time. I just
played along."

"Yeh, right!" I reply in my most sarcastic tone.

He comes back with, "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it! And what was that
comment about him having something that I would like to play with?"

"I only meant that he could probably find you a couple of good games to
play."

"Liar!" Will throws back at me. We both laugh, each knowing exactly what
the other was doing.

"OK. Let's come back Thursday." I'm not sure whether or not I hear Will
whisper, `Hell, yeh!'

We stop to buy a couple of smoothies. I have strawberry. Will chooses
banana. We continue walking, drinking, browsing and talking.

We arrive home to a tantalising smell emanating from the kitchen. I know
that Uncle Bill is bringing dinner. Maybe Mum is doing dessert. It smells
like an apple pie, or maybe, hopefully, a large custard tart!

Amelia is out by the pool, drawing. Will and I take a can of lemonade and
join her. She shows him what she is doing and he compliments her on her
efforts, pointing out areas for improvement.

Will excuses himself to use the bathroom.

Sis and I make a bit of small talk, then she puts down her pencil, stares
at me and comes straight out with, "Thomas, while we are alone, let me ask,
don't you think it's about time that you told everyone that you are gay?"

I almost choke as my half-swallowed mouthful of fizz is coughed up through
my mouth and nose.

"What did you say?" I'm sure that I heard her correctly, but am instantly
thrown onto the defensive.

"Oh, come on! I've known for two years. I just wonder when you are going to
let Mum and Dad know. And, more importantly, Will!"

I stare at her blankly. So, she knows! But how? And it's obvious that none
of the family has let it slip, or she wouldn't be suggesting that I tell
them. There is no point in denying it, but what do I say?

"You think that I'm gay?"

"Thomas, it doesn't matter to me, but I know that you are gay. And so do
some other people."

"What! Who? How?" Then I realise that the `how' is as good as an admission.

"I have school friends with older brothers and sisters."

I pause to see if she adds more. She doesn't, so I prompt her, "And...?"

"It seems that two of them have sisters who tried to get you into bed, and
you wouldn't do it. They were both pretty pissed off with you."

"Watch your mouth, Sis. Don't let Mum hear you using that language!" It's
all that I can say. But, I do recall one incident to which she is
referring. It was after a college dance.

Many of my mates bragged the next day about `scoring' with their dates. I
made excuses about mine having a headache. Lame, eh? But, in reality, she
tried her damnest to get it off with me. I think we got as far as the bed
and then I couldn't go through with it. I was as limp as a dead
chicken. Sis is right - she was really pissed off with me and threatened to
tell everyone that I had no sexual interest in girls. But, hearing no
repercussions, I concluded that she had thought better of it in the
morning.

Sis intrudes on my thoughts. "As well as that, a couple of my friends' big
brothers were always happy when they came home after visiting you for an
hour or so. One has already told his parents that he is gay."

Then I recall the Nicholson twins. I always favoured him over her. While
she was chasing me I was infatuated by his body the whole time. I used to
visit her, only so that I could make friends with him. Maybe he was even
one of those that Simon saw me 69ing with by the pool! Hell, I didn't know
that brother and sister compared notes! Shit!

"And...," she continues, "I've seen the way that you look at other
guys... and at Will. So I know you're gay! You'd better tell Will! And Mum
and Dad. I've said nothing to any of them, but you certainly need to."

Her stare demands a response. I ease into it. "You've known for two years?"
She nods. "And yet you said nothing to me about it?" She shakes her head.

"I don't know whether to thank you or to hate you!"

"It's true, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's true." I confess humbly, then offer, "but, so that you know, I
HAVE already told Mum and Dad. And Will."

"I don't believe you!" she snaps back - not nastily, but in total
disbelief.

"It's true, Amelia." I hear Will say from the doorway. Sis and I instantly
turn our heads towards him. I didn't know that he had come down and was
listening. He continues, "I was with Tom when he told your parents. It was
an emotional time, and harder on him than it was on them."

"Really?" Sis asks. "What about you, weren't you shocked?"

"No, Amelia. Tom had told me before we got here, just in case I didn't want
to share a room with him. He gave me the option of using your guest room."
Only Will and I know that he's stretching the truth, but it looks as though
Sis is buying it. Will adds, "I trust him. He would never do anything that
I didn't want to do."

Well, that's about the most ambiguous and leading a statement that I've
ever heard. At least he's back on the truth. I just pray that Amelia
doesn't ask the next most obvious question - about Will himself!

Then, Mum appears at the doorway behind Will. That instantly silences
Amelia. There is a God. Thank you!

"Is everything OK?" Mum asks. "You all look a little tense."

"Everything's fine Mum," I half-smile at her. "I have just shared with
Amelia what I told you and Dad yesterday. She has accepted that I am gay,
but didn't believe that I'd already told you both."

"It's all good, Amelia. Let it go, darling. I know you must be shocked. We
can talk about it later, if you need to. But, for now, can you please help
me set up for dinner?"

Sis goes in with Mum, but not before poking her tongue out at me. I
reciprocate, causing a broad grin to spread across Will's face.

"I'm sorry, Will. I didn't want to dob you in as well. She asked me
straight out if I was gay while you were upstairs. I'll fill you in later
with the details."

"No worries, Tom. But I suppose that I'd better tell her about me, some
time too. She's bound to put two and two together pretty soon or find out
from somebody else. I'd rather tell her myself."

"You want to go and get cleaned up for dinner?" I ask. He nods. And smirks
- now what caused that evil grin? As we pass Mum and Amelia I comment that
we are going to get `freshen up' before Uncle Bill arrives. Mum says
something in acknowledgement. Amelia follows me with a squinty, steely
stare, then she looks at Will.

As I close our bedroom door I say to Will, "Did you see the look that Sis
gave both of us? She may have already figured it out!"

"I'll tell her during our next drawing lesson. At least she'll be in a good
mood. I hope she'll be OK with it. I wouldn't want to hurt her in any
way. So far, we are getting on really well together. And she's so much more
fun that Jane, and definitely better than Anna. I like her - as a cousin!"

I walk into the bathroom and fill the hand basin with warm water in
preparation for a quick wash. Will steps up behind me, wraps his arms
around my chest, presses his lower body against mine and kisses me on the
neck. I shudder. "I really and truly love you," he whispers. "And, I love
being alone with you."

I lower my hands and reach behind us, grasping the cheeks of his beautiful
firm butt, holding his body securely against mine. I tilt my head backwards
and turn it towards his face. "I love you too," I whisper. Our lips
touch. He releases his grip. So do I, turning to face him. My growing
erection is met by his. Our tongues begin a long duel, then so do the rigid
swords in our pants as we mash our hips back and forth.

I say to Will, "Hey, we're only supposed to be up here, freshening up. If
we stay any longer, and these things don't soften up, Sis is gonna twig
straight away. We have all night to play after Uncle Bill leaves."

"Hell, yeh!" he growls. I should have anticipated that comment.

I let out the warm water and replace it with cold. Hopefully, it will send
messages down below to help reduce the swellings as our hands and faces
feel its chill.

Will says, "I'll go down first and just complain about how slow you
are. Amelia should relish that."

I give him a couple of minutes head start and head down. Will is helping
Amelia set the table. I see that it is prepared for seven instead of the
six that I expected. "Why the extra setting?" I ask Mum.

"Bill rang and asked if he could bring a friend. You know what he's
like. So I said `OK'."

"Will his guest be of the female, social variety, or of the male, business
variety?" I inquire.

"He didn't actually say but, knowing Bill, it could be either."

Our speculations will soon be resolved because I hear a car pull into the
drive.

The bell rings. Dad answers the door. I can tell from overhearing the
greetings that Uncle Bill's guest is female, but I can't determine whether
she's young or old. Then my one-track mind presumes that `Big Willie' may
be in a playful mood tonight.

When Dad, Uncle Bill and his guest come inside, I am surprised. Uncle Bill
does the family introductions. His `guest' is a beautiful sophisticate,
aged about 40, hair pulled back and secured in a tight roll, slim, with
ample breasts - or implants.

We learn that her name is Monika and that she is the director of an arts
gallery in Brisbane. His primary purpose in inviting her along, Uncle Bill
tells us, is to have her meet Will and see some of his work. And, I
wouldn't be surprised if he has a secondary purpose in mind, after they
leave!

He hands Mum two plastic bags with far too many containers of food for
seven people, suggesting that they be spread along the length of the table
so that people can choose whatever they might like.

Mum and Dad sit at the ends of the table with Monika and Uncle Bill on one
side and Sis, Will and I opposite them on the other side.

Dinner discussions initially focus upon Monika, her role, her connections
and her influence, as extolled by Uncle Bill. Monika either confirms, adds
detail or tones down his over-exaggerations.

As the food disappears, conversation inevitably turns to Will and his
work. Uncle Bill's adulation of Will and enthusiasm for his artistry are
met by a polite air of scepticism from Monika.

She speaks, "Will, you should know that Bill has told me that he thinks you
are the greatest new artist since Leonardo da Vinci. I'm sure that you'll
appreciate that I have to take with a grain of salt almost everything that
he says. He's prone to over-exaggeration, as you heard earlier. However,
I'm happy to look at your work for myself." Her tone of voice is very
patronising.

I can't resist a jibe at Uncle Bill. "He's usually like that when he talks
about himself. We're used to it." He gives me a dirty look. I continue,
"However, in this case, it may all be justified." She smiles at me
condescendingly.

Uncle Bill says, "Will, why don't you bring down a selection of your work -
a mix of landscapes, horses and portraits, just enough to whet Monika's
appetite."

"Horses?" Monika interjects with a half sneer. Everyone ignores her
attitude.

"Tom," Uncle Bill says, "I'd be grateful if you lend your opinion to Will's
selection." Will and I head upstairs, select some of his work in different
media (but mainly oils and pencil) and head back down.

As we descend the stairs, everyone is in the process of moving to the
lounge room.

Monika notices Will's gift hanging on the wall and comments to Uncle Bill,
"Isn't that a print from one of your photographs? I seem to remember it as
part of an exhibition that you had about 15 or 20 years ago."

"Look more closely," Uncle Bill replies.

Monika moves to within a metre of the painting and begins to comment on the
computer-enhanced image with simulated brush strokes.

"Look closer," Uncle Bill encourages. Monika takes a small device from her
bag. It appears to be a magnifying glass with an inbuilt light. She moves
it over one area of the picture and then another, then another.

"It's actually a painting!" she exclaims. "But, it looks so..., so..., so
realistic. It's almost photographic. Somebody has put a lot of effort into
copying one of your photos."

Uncle Bill, at that point, withdraws from a folder that he had placed on
the lounge, a photograph. "Here, see for yourself. This is mine. What you
are seeing up there is not a copy. The trees have grown, one has fallen
down, the river level has dropped and the shadows indicate a different time
of day. Monika, dear, you are looking at an original oil painting. The only
similarity to mine is the subject matter."

"But, who? How? When?" Monika begins, clearly shocked. She scans the
picture again and discovers the small signature. "Who is `LW'?" she
asks. "Why do I not know this artist?"

"You do." Uncle Bill replies. I introduced him to you earlier and you had
dinner with him. Do you remember why I invited you here?"

Monika looks around and focuses on Will. Without saying a word, she points
to him while raising her eyebrows inquiringly in Uncle Bill's direction.

"Did I exaggerate his ability, or what?" he asks her.

"OMG, Bill. Do you realise how good this is? How good he is?"

Uncle Bill turns to Will. "Son, show her some more."

Will shows her the completed picture of Marty's house that I watched him
working on, plus a couple of his favourite `horse' pictures and pencil
sketches of Marty (in his cut-offs) and of `Mum' O'Brien (complete with
apron and fly-away hair pulled into a rough bun).

Amelia dashes upstairs and returns almost immediately, clutching his
drawing of her. "Will did this one of me the other day while we were
talking," she gushes.

Monika instantly realises what it is that Will has captured as well as the
physical detail. She looks at all three portraits. "I can almost see their
inner selves," she says in a voice that is starting to quiver. She
describes her assessment of both Marty's and his Mum's personalities, based
on what she can discern from Will's drawings.

"Spot on! That's them to a tee!" I comment.

She has tears in her eyes. She grabs Will in a hug and hangs on, mumbling
superlatives the whole time. Will, initially surprised, and then grateful,
is now looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Let him breathe!" Uncle Bill pleads. "Don't kill him off. You've only just
met him."

"Oh, I am so sorry! Forgive me. I got carried away," she offers to
Will. She retrieves a handkerchief from her purse and dabs under her eyes.

Mum breaks in, "Coffee anyone, with dessert?"

Monika's response is, "My dear, I need something a lot stronger than
coffee! OMG. OMG" she mutters to herself.  She scans and re-scans Will's
works, with the ice in her drink clinking the side of the glass. Her hand
is trembling at her `discovery' of a young artistic master - a nobody from
nowhere. My little brother - William O'Brien-Grant!

Mum and Amelia bring in the coffee and the dessert. I was right! Mum was
cooking a full-sized custard tart. Needless to say that there is not a
crumb remaining after all have eaten their portion, or, in the case of Will
and me, portions.

After much praise, commendation and adulation of Will and his work, Monika
and Uncle Bill call it a night. Monika thanks Mum and Dad for their
hospitality, says a polite `good-bye' to Sis and me, then grabs Will in
another bear hug. "We will talk some more!" she says to him. "It's been a
privilege to meet you." Her `take me home, Bill,' is followed by a wink
from him to Will and me. I was right! As far as he is concerned, `the night
is still young'.

"See you tomorrow sometime," Uncle Bill calls to us as he escorts Monika
outside.

"Well," Dad says to Will, "it looks as though you have been officially
discovered."

Will gathers his work, says goodnight to everyone and heads up to
bed. "Gotta brush my teeth," he calls as he disappears up the stairs. I
smirk, knowing what he means and what we will be doing later.

I spend another 10 minutes chatting with Mum and Dad about Monika and her
promises to Will about his future. Then I think to myself, `he should be
ready by now' and I smile.

I kiss Mum, hug Dad and poke out my tongue, smilingly, at Amelia. All are
reciprocated.

I am expecting to see Will naked. Instead, he is wearing the same shorts
that he had on that first day that we `played' with each other in my
car. "Hello, Sir," he says as I close the door. "Wanna get lucky?"
reminiscent of his words to me that day.

I crawl onto the bed and lay myself beside him. We place our hands on each
other's leg, just as we did back then. He continues to repeat his actions
by running his hand up my thigh until he encounters my swelling package,
then he desists. "You'd better go and brush your teeth," he growls at me
seductively. "It's going to be a long night."

Early in the morning I am aware that Will is spooned up to me. I prise open
my eyes, savouring the feel of his arm across my chest and his morning wood
nestled between my cheeks. His heavy, regular breathing against my neck is
testament to the energy expended in releasing his three loads last night -
one in my mouth, one inside me while he held me tightly in a doggy
position, and one while my cock was finding and massaging his prostate with
him on his back. I feel somewhat depleted myself. LOL. I gently roll him
onto his back. He stirs only momentarily with a slight snort and then
returns to his dreams.

I take a pee, shower, dress and meet Mum downstairs.

"Dad has left for work and Amelia has gone for an early jog with a friend,"
she begins.

I hug her and say, "I love you, Mum! I don't suppose you've made a decision
yet about the chemo?"

"Actually, I have," she replies. "I'm going to try the alternatives. How
bad can they be if the chemo doesn't guarantee a positive outcome? Why
would I want to be as sick as a dog and make everyone else suffer too?"

"That's very brave of you," I reply. "Whatever I can do to support you, you
only have to ask. You know that, right?"

"Thank you, darling. But I think that it's Amelia who may need your
support. I'm not going to tell her at this stage, until I have some
indication from the treatment one way or the other. Karen is meeting me
today with some information and contact details. Please don't make a fuss,
and try not to worry - that won't change the outcome! However, we all need
to be happy and positive. That will go a long way towards helping me."

We let the subject drop as a bright-eyed Will comes down to join us.

"Good morning, Aunty Susan," he chirps, giving her a hug and a kiss. He
shocks me by giving me a hug too, and kissing me on the cheek. I feel
myself blush. Mum just smiles. I'm glad Amelia isn't here.

"The surf report is good for today," Mum relates to neither of us in
particular. It's a subtle hint to take off for the beach.

"Great!" Will replies. "Joey's going to show me a couple of more tricks on
the board today." We each grab some toast, finish our coffee, then go up to
change.

Upstairs, he reminds me, "And, I'll bet that Joey and young Andy have a few
tricks that they want to show you too in the shower." He smirks.

"Yeh. I sort of invited that, didn't I?" I reply.

"No, you didn't just invite that," Will says. "You virtually promised them
that they could both have a go at jacking you off! I hope we left some
juice in your tank last night! I can't wait to watch the action."

We arrive a bit earlier than usual. I recognise Joey. The others aren't
here yet. The swells are bigger than on any day previously. Joey is making
the most of them. I admire his skill and it's wonderful to watch him
speeding across the face of a wave, spinning, flipping and then shooting
about 2m off the top of the wave when he's done with it.

I think that for larger-sized waves, they are remarkably translucent today,
as they rise before breaking. I can clearly see the occasional small
schools of different fish in them, as the sun behind produces silhouettes
in the pale green/blue water.

Will runs with his board to join Joey, paddling out. It's funny watching
him being swamped as the waves crash over him on his first two attempts at
getting out there. Timing is everything!

He makes it to where Joey is lying on his board, with not much more than
his head visible above the water. I can see their two bobbing heads appear
and disappear between successive waves.

I hear Simon call out and turn towards the sound of his voice. However,
just as I take my eyes off Joey and Will, I catch a glimpse of something
that sends chills up my spine. What was that? I look again, but it is
gone. I thought that I saw, in the second wave behind them, a large, dark
shape... with a fin!

They disappear again as the next wave passes over them and obscures them
from my sight.

Then I hear a scream; a blood-curdling, heart-stopping shriek. I recognise
the voice immediately as Will's.

Then, as that wave subsides, I see only one head. I am frozen in fear.



To be continued...

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