Date: Mon, 8 Mar 2010 17:25:24 -0500
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@gmail.com>
Subject: Peter Broad's Story 6

This is a story that involves a little sex between males.  If such a story
is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not
continue, go and surf elsewhere.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons.  If there is any similarity to any real persons or
events it is entirely coincidental.

The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.

My thanks to Brian who has read this through and made a number of
corrections and suggestions.  Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling
historical or whatever are entirely my fault.

Thank you to those who have commented on my stories.  If you want to
comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. but
please, after 8th May 2010 I am away until then. I aim to reply to all
messages eventually.

If you wish to be added to or removed from a chapter post notification
list, please send an email with your request to jeffyrks@gmail.com


Peter Broad's Story



34.

The Problems of George and Guilt

Peter got off the bus and began to walk across the University campus
towards Rutland Hall.  Everywhere seemed clean and fresh after the storm.
Peter felt good.  It was great to be alive.  He thought back over the
events of the night.  He felt that an essential part of his being had
fallen into place.  He felt more complete, more of a man.

As he walked into Rutland Hall he met George Riley coming in the opposite
direction.  Several other students were around, and heard George's
comments.  "What have we here?  The return of the hall nancy boy after a
night on the town?  Celebrating the end of term with a final fling?"  Then
in a stage whisper, "Were you more sucked than sucking, or more fucking
than fucked?  Or was it a glorious orgy of the lot?"  With a guffaw of
laughter he made his way into the refectory for breakfast.

Again Peter was faced with the dilemma of how to reply, but this time he
knew there was truth in the taunting allegations.

The next couple of hours were a hectic round of packing.  He was almost
ready when his mother appeared.  He made her a coffee, and she sat in his
room drinking it, while he loaded up the car.  Soon they were on their way.

"Well, how did you get on in the exams?"

Peter told her.

"Have you managed to play any cricket?"

Peter told her about it, especially the good stand with George.

"Have you managed to get along to any of the Christian meetings?"

"A few.  I have put all my energies into work for the exams, and just
allowed myself one game of cricket a week."

"Do you get to church on a Sunday?"

"Yes.  I've been along to St Nick's."

"Have you seen much of Benjamin Menzies?"

"Just twice this term."

Peter gained the impression that his mother was well pleased with all his
answers, especially to the last one, as he had seen Ben on considerably
fewer occasions than the term before.

They stopped at the usual pub for lunch, though this time they were able to
sit outside in the warm sunshine.  They arrived back in Whitgest in the
middle of the afternoon.  Peter unloaded the car, and then they sat in the
kitchen enjoying a cup of tea.

It was when he entered his bedroom that the guilt struck him.  It was like
walking into a brick wall.  He realised with stunning horror that he would
never be able to look his parents in the face and say that he was a sexual
virgin.  Never again would he be able to say that.  He had had sex.  It had
been sex outside the permitted boundary of the marriage bed.  Sex with a
girl would have been wrong, but it would have been understood.  Sex with a
girl was, after all, in the eyes of the majority of people natural.  But he
had had sex with a man.  There were never any circumstances in which that
was permitted.  It was unnatural.  It was wrong.  It was sinful.

The blackness of guilt swirled around him.  He sat on the edge of the bed.
He buried his head in his hands.

Verses from both Old and New Testaments ran through his mind.  If a man
lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an
abomination; they shall be put to death, their blood is upon them. It was
an abomination, the worst and most serious sort of sin.  God gave them up;
men committing shameless acts with men and received in their own persons
the due penalty of their error.  Because of what he had done, God would
give him up. Do not be deceived, ..sodomites....none of these will inherit
the kingdom of God.  He had placed his own eternal destiny in jeopardy.

He tried to pull himself together.  He had told Anton that he was beginning
to see a way forward in reconciling his beliefs with his sexuality.  But
when he tried to work at this now, it all seemed to fail.  It was like
trying to climb up out of a morass, what looked a good hand hold crumpled
at his touch; what appeared to be a good foot hold slipped down as soon as
any weight was placed on it.  He was back where he had been, with the dark
cloud of divine condemnation hanging over him.  All things were decidedly
not well.

He tried to call to mind some the things that Ron had said to him just
after Christmas.  He knew what he had said had been helpful and
constructive then, but now he found it difficult to remember anything.
There was just the blackness of an all-enveloping guilt.

He managed to stir himself to bring all his luggage up from the hall to his
room, and then again he sat on the edge of the bed head in hands.  He heard
the sounds of activity below.  Andrew arrived home from work.  The smell of
cooking made him face up to the fact that he would soon have to meet his
family.  He went to the bathroom and washed himself, and then made his way
down stairs.

Andrew seemed almost glad to see him.  He asked about girls at the
university, and whether Peter had yet found a girl friend.  His answer was
that he had been working too hard.  Then Andrew asked about cricket and
they were soon sharing their cricketing experiences.

His father unwittingly helped by saying that Peter looked very tired, and
that he ought to get a few early nights in before starting his job on
Monday.

The meal went off very well.  It was not followed by an arranged
inquisition as there had been at Easter.  Peter thought that his mother had
probably told his father that he had only seen Ben a couple of times, and
that they were reasonably happy with that.  As soon as he decently could he
disappeared upstairs to his room.

It was always his custom to pray before going to sleep.  Often his prayers
were short, frequently perfunctory.  That night his prayers were earnest.
He prayed for forgiveness, but when he rose from his knees it was with no
sense that his prayers had been heard.  There was no feeling of assurance
that his sins had been forgiven.

-0---0---0-

35.

A Sermon

Peter found the remaining three days of the week difficult.  He said he was
exhausted, after all the work and the festivities of the end of term.  He
spent as much time as he decently could in his room, or going for a lengthy
walk each day.  He tried to do some light reading, but found it difficult
to concentrate.  He even declined an invitation to play cricket on the
Saturday afternoon.

He was due to begin work at the Hermitage Hotel on the Monday morning.
This meant that he was able to go to church with the rest of the family on
the Sunday morning.  He went with heavy heart, oppressed by a sense of
guilt and shame.  Yet much to his surprise the service that morning was to
cast light into his darkness.

The vicar, Bruce Perkins, was away that Sunday.  The man taking the service
was an older man, Canon Ford, from a neighbouring parish.  Peter expected
the sermon to be the usual mixture of the grace of the Gospel if you were
not a Christian, and the fullness of the law if you were a Christian.  When
the preacher went up and gave out his text he expected the sermon to
concentrate on the goodness and love of God, and His offer of salvation.
The text was from Matthew's Gospel, words of Jesus where He is talking of
what people said of Him.  "Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax
collectors and sinners."  The sermon was on Jesus as the friend of sinners.
Several sentences in particular spoke to Peter.  Jesus was a friend of the
outcasts, the rejects of society....  He spoke to men and women who no
respectable Jew would be seen talking to.....  He spent time talking to the
Samaritan woman, who was not just a despised foreigner, but also a woman
with a dubious history......  He spoke kindly to the woman taken in
adultery.....  He told a story where the villains were respectable
religious Jews, and the hero a despised Samaritan.....  He allowed a
prostitute to wash his feet with her tears, and wipe his feet with her
hair.  That was really outrageous conduct, especially from someone who
claimed to be religious, and a spokesman for God.....

Then he said some things that really made Peter think.  The opponents of
Jesus were the religious establishment, the church of his time.  There is
always a danger when religious people think what they believe is 100% true,
and the conduct they call for is 100% right.  They go on to think that this
gives them a 100% authority to take action against anyone who disagrees
with them, or who do not do what they believe they should do.  That is why
the religious leaders of Jesus' day got him crucified.  They did so because
they disagreed with what he said and what he did.  He did not measure up to
their 100% standards.  So it has been through the history of the Christian
church, when there are church leaders with 100% certainties, and have the
power, they all too often end up persecutors.  The whole history of the
church is littered with examples.  It is really amazing that the real
Jesus, the Jesus of the Gospels, the loving Jesus, the Jesus friend of
sinners, has in any way survived until today.

Peter thought it a courageous sermon to be preached in that church.  The
vicar Bruce Perkins was, in Peter's opinion, a man with 100% certainty in
all matters of faith and conduct.  He was feeling himself to be an outcast,
a sinner.  Perhaps Jesus could still be a friend to him.  He did not dare
think anything more than that.

After the church service there were refreshments, served by the usual rota
of church ladies.  Most people stayed.  Several people welcomed Peter back,
and some asked how the term had gone.  All were satisfied with a fairly
bland answer.  He wondered what they would think, and do, if they had known
what he had done on the last night of term.

Then Carol Spencer came up to speak with him.  Carol and James Spencer were
a couple in their late thirties.  They had moved into the village fifteen
or sixteen years before.  They were very active in the life of the church,
serving on the Parochial Church Council.  They had also run for several
years the youth club in the village hall.  It was not a church youth club,
but their Christian commitment was well known, and influenced the club.
Several young people had come into the life of the church, and been
confirmed because of their work.  Bruce Perkins had reservations about some
of the things that the youth club got up to, but he was always ready to
prepare a youngster from the Youth Club who came forward for confirmation
and church membership.  Peter had in his time been a member of the youth
club before going up to University.

Carol was a gushy sort of person, and though Peter was used to her ways, in
his more thoughtful moments he was surprised that she got anywhere with the
young people of the village.

"Peter darling, how wonderful to see you.  Did you have a good term?  How
did the exams go?"

"It was a good term, Carol.  And even my tutor was pleased with my exam
results."

"Good.  I'm so glad to hear it.  Wasn't that a wonderful sermon?"

"Yes, I thought so too."

"We could do with more sermons like that here," said Carol with a slightly
softer voice.

Peter was surprised, as he had always seen Carol and her husband James as
totally behind the vicar and the church set up.  "What in particular did
you like about it, Carol?"

"I think he got it right.  Often the main hindrance to the real work of
Jesus, are those who profess the most.  We always need to remember his
ministry to the outcasts and rejects.  And we must not neatly place
ourselves in that category.  I know we are all sinners, but we churchy
people all too often see ourselves as not such bad sinners as compared with
a whole multitude of other people.  Jesus was harshest in the words that he
spoke about the respectable sins.  What we need to remember, as the dear
Canon reminded us, is that we are the religious establishment.  We are in
much more spiritual danger because of our position than many of those we
tend to look down on as sinners."

Peter was surprised at this endorsement of Canon Ford's sermon from Carol
Spencer.

"Peter dear, I am so glad to have had this chance to speak to you.  There
is something that James and I would like to ask you about.  It is nothing
very serious, but we think you may be able to help us.  I wonder if you
could pop round for coffee one evening."

"I'm sure I could.  I'm going to be doing a vac job in Hitchin, and I know
I'll be working many evenings.  I start tomorrow."

"Then give us a tinkle when you know when you will be free.  Then we can
arrange something."

With a little wave, she moved off to speak to someone else.  Peter
scratched his head, wondering in what way he could be of any help to Carol
and James Spencer.

Sunday lunch was always an important event in the Broad household.  It was
the main meal of the week.  When all three children had been living at home
other meals were often staggered.  But Sunday lunch was the one occasion
when they were all present.  Though Mary now lived in Hitchin, and Peter
was at University, and Andrew was often out, Sunday lunch retained some of
its importance.  That day Mary too was there, and the whole family was
together.  Sunday lunch was always a roast meal, with all the necessary
trimmings and additions.

Peter decided to take the initiative.  "What did you think of the sermon,
Dad?"

His father paused before replying.  "It was not quite what we are used to
getting from Bruce.  I thought the Canon was rather hard on us, equating us
with the scribes and the Pharisees.  I thought he should have said
something about the need for repentance, and bringing forth the fruits of
repentance, from the sinners.  What did you think?"

"I thought it was a good sermon.  It was very Biblical with all the
incidents of Jesus befriending the outcasts, etc. which Canon Ford
mentioned in his sermon."

Peter's father looked up from his roast beef, and gave his son a hard look.
He wondered if this was some wishy washy liberalism that he was picking up
at University.  "We have to look at Scripture as a whole, not just our
selected parts."

"True.  But we do have to take on board and apply the relationship that
Jesus had with the religious establishment of his day."

"Yes, but I don't think the Church Council of St Sebastian's, Whitgest, nor
even the bishops and synods of the church, are in danger of crucifying our
Lord!"

Peter decided to leave it there.  The rest of the meal proceeded as usual.
After the clearing away and the washing up, Andrew went off to see his girl
friend; Mary stayed for a cup of tea before returning to Hitchin, and his
parents had their Sunday afternoon doze.  Peter went up to his room,
feeling slightly better than he had done at breakfast time.

-0---0---0-

36.

Work and an interesting session with Carol and James Spencer.

On Monday morning Peter cycled the six miles into Hitchin.  It had been
arranged that he would go by car when he could borrow his mother's car,
otherwise he would cycle.  He was to do any job he was asked to do,
probably standing in for various people while they were on holiday.

For the first two weeks he was to work in the kitchen.  This suited him
well.  The kitchen seemed to him chaos at first.  Slowly he realised it was
organised chaos.  Towards the end of the first week, he was impressed with
the efficiency.  He got on well with the other staff.  There was one
incident, early on, when the chef asked him to get a baking tray from the
warming oven.  Rather than touching to see how hot it was, he pulled it
from the oven taking the full weight.  It was more than warm, it was very
hot, certainly to Peter's still sensitive hands.  The tray fell with a
clatter on the floor.  The chef rushed round.

"What's happened?"

"It was hot," said Peter.

"Of course, it was hot.  It has just come from a warm place.  Let me see
your hands."

Peter's hands were beginning to go red. The chef took hold of them, looked
at them.

"You'll live. Get on with your work."

His hands hurt for a while, but did not blister.  Soon he felt a part of
the team.  He began to enjoy the work.  It was totally different from
University life.  He had to put up with a certain amount of teasing from
the other staff.  But when he took it all in good part, and started to give
as good as he got, he was soon accepted as a member of the kitchen team.
It took his mind off his inner feelings.  The blackness of the guilt and
shame began to lessen.

It was not until the Tuesday of the second week that he had an evening off
when he could call on the Spencers.  As he walked round to their house, he
was puzzling in his mind as to what they wanted.

Carol came to the door.  "Peter darling, it is wonderful to see you.  So
glad you could pop round."  She put her arms round him and gave him a kiss.

James welcomed him more soberly into their sitting room.  "Good to see you
Pete.  Carol tells me you had a good term.  What would you like to drink,
coffee? Something cold?  Something strong?

"Just a coffee please."

Carol went out to make the coffee.

"Did you manage to play any cricket, or did work take up all the time?
Cricket demands such a lengthy commitment.  Squash is a better sport for
busy people, short and hard."

James was a keen squash player, and had tried to get Peter interested, but
Peter's first love was undoubtedly cricket.  This was all an old
discussion.  After a while Carol came back into the room with the coffee,
and a plate full of sweet and sticky cakes.

"I got these specially for you, Peter dear.  I doubt whether even the
austerities of University life would succeed in weaning you away from your
sweet tooth in a mere year."

The conversation remained on a light level for several minutes.

It was James who introduced the reason for the invitation to coffee.  "You
know, only too well, Peter what village life is like.  The grape vine, or
the gossip network, works very efficiently in this village.  One of the
main exchanges on the grapevine is Mrs Walker, who lives up near the
church."

"Yes, I know her."  Peter wondered where this was going to lead.  Was he
going to be tackled for immoral conduct in hugging Ben in the churchyard on
the day of the funeral?

"Carol had a long talk with her a couple of months ago.  From Mrs Walker,
Carol gathered that you have met, and are in contact now with Ben Menzies."

With sinking heart, Peter replied.  "Yes.  I met him again at the end of my
first term.  I have seen him several times since."

"Ben was in our youth club, though that was well before you were a member.
It was about two or three years later that we picked up on the grapevine
possible reasons for his disappearance."

"My darling James did try to find out from Stanley Menzies why Ben had
disappeared so abruptly," intervened Carol.  "But he was given an abrupt
answer that said nothing, but implied something serious.  It was, quite
simply, mind your own business.  When we found out what had happened we
were horrified, weren't we honey?"

"Yes, dear."

"It seemed so totally unjust."

Before even Carol could continue James took over.  "I don't know what your
views are Peter, but Carol and I are out of step with most people in this
village, and certainly with many of those in the church, when it comes to
homosexuality.  We see it as an issue of justice.  As long as no one is
being harmed, no one forced into something unwillingly, then what two
consenting men get up to in private is no one else's business."

"But they were rather young," said Carol.

"Yes, about eighteen."  James used his two hands like scales and shook his
head as though weighing one thing over against another.  "But to throw him
out of the family, that is terrible.  He did not deserve that treatment."

"But tell us Peter.  How is poor dear Ben?  What is he doing for a living?"

Peter told them of Ben's academic successes, and his present position, and
standing in the world of English studies.  "As to how he is, he is fine. He
is very happy.  He lives with a chap called Clive, who is a psychiatric
nurse.  They are good for each other.  Ben has introduced Clive to the
theatre, and Clive has got Ben interested in football."

"No!  Ben interested in football?  That, I would have said, was
impossible," said James laughing.

"I am so pleased that Ben was, sort of, able to come to poor dear Dorothy's
funeral."

Peter told them his side of the events of that day.

"When you next see Ben, give him our love."

"And say how sorry we were not to be able to be of any help to him, at that
difficult time, all those years ago."

Peter walked home surprised at the way the evening had turned out.
Surprised at the Spencer's liberal and tolerant attitude.  Perhaps it was
possible to combine a Christian commitment with a pro gay stance.  But, of
course, it was easy for them, safe within a heterosexual marriage.  He
began to think about it all as a justice issue.  That was a new slant for
him.  Was it really an issue of justice that he and Anton should be free to
do what they did a fortnight before?

-0---0---0-

37.

A day with Anton.

The activity of working at the Hermitage, and a young man's effervescent
sexuality, soon had Peter back on a more even keel.  His parents made no
reference to Ben, or to the interrogation of the Easter vacation.  The
feelings of guilt and shame began to fade.  The night with Anton was
remembered with delight, and soon the desire for more began to rear its
head.

The arrangements with the Hermitage were that he would work for ten days,
and then have three days off.  A plot began to form in Peter's mind.  He
was beginning to work his way through his tutor's reading list.  His
parents knew that usually when he was up in his room he was working.  His
father was most impressed, and encouraged Peter.  He saw that he could make
a good excuse to pay a quick visit to Nottingham.  He could need some books
from the library.

He wrote to Anton.  `Dear Anton, You have been very much in my thoughts
since we last met.  I don't know that I can bear to wait until the very end
of September before seeing you again.  I have been wondering if you were
still feeling the same way about things.  It has occurred to me that I can
make a good excuse to come up to Nottingham for a couple of nights. [I need
some books from the library!!]  I could come for the Thursday and Friday
nights of next week.  Is that possible for you?'  The rest of the letter
was filled with an account of the work he was doing at the Hermitage.  He
signed off, `Counting the days, with much love, Peter xxxx'

Three days later he got a heavy letter from Anton. When he opened it, a
couple of keys fell out.  'Dear Peter, Great, great, great.  Can't wait.  I
shall be working until 8.00 on Thursday evening, so I am sending the keys.
Arrive whatever time you like, make yourself at home.  I will be back about
8.30.  I will try to arrange to have Friday completely off.  Till Thursday.
With lots of love Anton xxx'

At dinner that evening Peter announced that he needed to have a day in
Nottingham to look up certain things.  His father made friendly enquiries
about the work, and was supportive and encouraging.

His mother was more practical.  "Where will you stay, dear?"

"A fellow student lives in Nottingham, I am sure I could crash down at his
home."

"Are you sure that will be all right?"

"I'll make contact and find out."

"How will you go?  If I'm not using my car, you could borrow it."

"Thanks Mum, that's kind of you."

"When were you thinking of going?"

"I have got three days off at the end of next week.  I could go on the
Thursday and come back on Saturday."

"I think I will want my car on the Saturday afternoon, but if you are back
by 3.00, you can use my car."

It was so easily arranged.  In his idle moments thoughts of Anton filled
his mind. Often he became quite aroused in anticipation.

He left Whitgest just after 9.00, and made good time up to Nottingham.  He
went straight to the University.  It seemed strange, with the campus bereft
of students.  He had completed the work that was the excuse for his visit
by mid afternoon.  As it was a rather miserable day he decided to go round
to Anton's.  He made his way into the house, and up the stairs to the flat.
He felt that he was an intruder when he opened the door.  The flat was
exactly as he remembered it.  On the table there was a sheet of paper, with
a message for him.

'Welcome.  Make yourself at home.  Raid the fridge etc.  I thought we could
go out for a meal, when I get back.  I will be hungry so don't eat too
much, or you will be having to watch the lion feed.  I'll be back as soon
as I can.  Can't wait to see you etc.  etc.  Mountains of love, Anton.XX'

Peter decided that the best way to make the time pass quickly was to get
down to some work.  He made himself some coffee, and settled down with his
books.

Meanwhile Anton was working at Mapperley Park Hospital.  He too was wanting
time to pass quickly.  At one time in the middle of the afternoon he met
Clive in one of the corridors.

"Hi Anton.  How goes it."

"Fine!  Guess who is coming to stay for a couple of days."

"I can't think."

"No, go on, guess."

"No.  Not.....?"

"Yes, Peter.  He is coming up this afternoon and staying until Saturday
morning." said Anton, with a broad grin.

"That's great.  When did all this start?"

"After your last get together.  You mentioned he had asked about me.  I
wrote, and we met, and the rest is history as they say."

"That's wonderful," said Clive, slapping Anton on the back.  "I think you
two could be well suited.  You deserve each other.  I know that is often
said in a bad sense, but I really mean it in the best, most positive way
possible.  Wait till I tell Ben.  He will forget his precious Chaucer for a
while.  He will be pleased, I know."  He went off chuckling to himself, and
then called back over his shoulder.  "Have a good time; do everything I
would do, and give him my love."

 After a couple of hours, Peter made another coffee, and browsed through
Anton's very limited selection of books, and larger collection of tapes.
He put on some music, and settled down to more reading.

It was just after 8.00 when he heard the door slam below, and hurried steps
coming up the stairs two at a time.  Anton tried the door, found it
unlocked, and burst into the room.

"Great.  I had a horrible fear that you wouldn't be here."

Peter got to his feet.  There was a fleeting awkward moment of shyness, and
then they were into each other's arms.  They kissed, cuddled, fondled.
They tore off their clothes and fell on the bed.

They did not go out for a meal that evening.  They concocted a meal about
1.30 am.  They got up late.  They had a big breakfast, which did include
black pudding.

In the afternoon they decided to go out.  After some debate they decided to
go to Newstead Abbey for a couple of hours.  They looked over the house,
viewed the tomb of Bosun, Lord Byron's dog, and then wandered round the
park.  They enjoyed talking and just being together.  They bought ice
creams, and finding a secluded spot, sat down on the grass.  When the ices
were finished they both lay back on the grass and dozed.

Peter was the first to come to; he sat up and looked down at the sleeping
Anton.  After a few moments he picked a blade of grass, and with it began
to tickle Anton's lips.

He woke with a sputter. "I was fast asleep - dreaming."

"Of me, I hope," said Peter.

"If it had been of you it would have been a nightmare!"

"Really?"

"Do you think so after last night."

"Honestly?  No."

"It were great!  I am beginning to feel horny for you again!  I don't think
I can bear the thought of not seeing you until your term starts in
October."

"It is a long while."  Peter was silent for a couple of minutes.  "Have you
got any holiday time due to you?"

"Yes, about three weeks.  I don't really know what to do with it, why?"

"I intend having some proper holiday at the end of September, what about
going away together?"

"That does sound a good idea."  It was now Anton's turn to do some
thinking.  "What about a couple of weeks on a sunny Greek island?"

"What a brilliant idea.  Sun, sea."

"And sex," added Anton quickly.  "Sleeping together every night for two
weeks.  Not for sex, but for love making."

"Yes, love making.  The very thought of it begins to make me hard."  Peter
moved so that the mound of his hardening cock could be seen.

"Same here."  Anton gave a quick look round and when he saw no one was
around he pulled Peter's hand on to his crotch.

"Feeling that will really make me hard."

"So what are we waiting for?"  Anton knowing that the coast was clear
pulled Peter face down and they kissed.  "You are rapidly becoming someone
special to me."

"You are to me."

Anton gave Peter a final quick kiss, and stood up.  He pulled Peter up on
to his feet.

"You look as though you are ready for it now."

"If we do anything more here we will be in danger of being arrested."  They
began to walk towards the car park.  "Let me tell you about my work, that
should take our minds off important things."

Peter laughed.

Soon they were parking the car near Anton's flat.  The opened the door at
the bottom of the staircase, and then went up the stairs two at a time.
Anton unlocked the door to the flat.  The moment they were inside they were
undressing each other, making another tidy and mixed pile of their clothes.
It was nearly five hours later that they slipped out for a quick take away.
On the Saturday they rose late, and it was 11.00am when Peter left for
Whitgest, after a painful and prolonged saying goodbye.

It was just over thirty-six hours of love making, and talking.  They talked
about going away together in September.


-0---0---0-

38.

Janet's engagement and the letter.

An exhausted Peter roused himself from bed early on Sunday morning.  He
dragged himself through the bathroom and breakfast, and with many yawns
made his way to the Hermitage to work.  He was back to working in the
kitchens.  The chef, a large man who enjoyed his own food, teased Peter
about his appearance and tiredness after three days off.  Peter took it all
in good part, though he found himself thinking about the hours that he had
spent with Anton.

Tuesday evening was warm and sunny, with a gentle breeze.  Peter was not
working in Hitchin that evening.  After the evening meal he went up to his
room to do some reading.  He had a table desk under the window, where the
light was good.  He read a book on international finance for about half an
hour.  From time to time the wind slightly stirred the curtains.  Then he
suddenly remembered that he ought to write to Anton, to say thank you, and
to keep in touch

He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out an A4 sheet of paper.  He did
not write many letters, other than his weekly letter home, so he did not go
in for notepaper.  He began to write.

'My dearest Anton, I am sorry I have not written before to say thank you
for your hospitality last week.  I came back feeling very tired [I wonder
why!!], and it was straight back to work.  I keep thinking of our time
together.  For me it was a wonderful time.  Getting to know each other
better.  I long to feel again your hands roaming over every part of my
body,' he heard the phone ringing downstairs.  'and for my lips and tongue
to explore every part of yours.'

Then he heard his mother call.  "Peter, telephone.  Its Janet on the
phone."  He pulled himself away from the reverie of his time with Anton.

"Okay. Just coming."  He pulled out another sheet of paper, and covered his
letter.  He put his biro on top, got up, and went downstairs.

"Hello Janet, good to hear from you.  How's things?"

"Fine.  I thought I would give you a call to see how you had got on last
term."

"I had a good term.  My tutor is saying that if I work really hard, I might
be in line for a first.  How did it go for you?"

"I am not doing as well as you are.  But I am enjoying the work and
everything else.  But I also rang to tell you some other news.  Mike and I
are engaged."

"Oh."  There was a slight pause, as he took it in.  "I am delighted.  I
must get it correct.  Best wishes in every way to yourself, and
congratulations to Mike."

Janet laughed.  "Good old Peter.  Always a stickler for correct etiquette.
Yes, you got it right."

"When did it happen?"

"He asked me right at the end of term.  Then we kept it secret until he
could see my parents."

"I bet they are pleased."

"Yes, so long as it does not upset my work."

"When do you hope to get married?"

"Not until we finish at Uni.  I hope you will not be too shocked; but we
are going to be living together."

"No.  I am not shocked."  The thought of his own activities, ruled that
out.

"I thought you might be. You with your strict Puritan principles."

Peter laughed.  "Have you got a ring?"

"Yes, we went out and bought it today.  He is here with me now.  Can you
come over some time?  It would be good to see you."

"I should think so.  I am working at the Hermitage in Hitchin, so my free
time is limited.  I am also trying to do some work."

"Swat!  Mike is here until Sunday.  If you have any free time, give me a
ring.  We could meet up during the day if that would be easier."

They rang off, and Peter made his way upstairs.  His mind was full of Janet
and Mike.  There was also the realisation that she had been correct in what
she had said of him that last evening of the school holidays, nearly a year
ago.  What a lot had happened since then.

He went into his room, picked up the biro from the floor where it must have
fallen, and resumed his letter to Anton.  'It was a wonderful thirty six
hours,' he wrote.  'I never realised that I could feel about another
person, as I feel about you now.  I do hope we can manage to get away
together in September.  I will call in the travel agents, and see if there
are any cheap offers for somewhere in Greece.  Lots of love, wishing I
could express it fully, Love Peter.  XXXXX' He read the letter through and
smiled.  He got out an envelope, and addressed it.  He stuck on the stamp,
and made his way downstairs and out of the house to post it.  As he went
out he called, "Just popping out to the post"

When he came back into the house, his father emerged from the dining room.

"Peter, can you come in here for a minute?  Your mother and I would like a
word with you."

Peter went into the dining room, and from the look on his parent's faces
immediately realised that something was up.  His mother was seated at the
table, looking rather distressed.  His father looked angry.  Peter sat down
at the table with his parents opposite him.

"What's the matter?  What's happened?"

His father answered.  "Peter, can you tell us who Anton is?"

Peter faltered for a moment.  "Anton is the person I stayed with when I
went up to Nottingham last week, to do that bit of work."

"Yes?"

"He is someone I have got to know a bit over the last term.  He lives in
Nottingham."

"With his parents?"

"Well, er, no."

"Where then?"

"He has got a flat.  I stayed with him there."

"What is the nature of your relationship with him?"

"We are friends."

"Just friends?"

"Good friends"

"Just good friends?"

"What is all this about?"

"Peter, can you tell us about the nature of your relationship with this man
Anton?  It is more than just good friends, is it not?"

"Peter hung his head for a moment.  "Why is there this third degree
inquisition into my private life?"

His mother now spoke.  "Peter, I must tell you what has happened.  You may
remember that when you had that phone call from Janet, immediately after
you came down stairs, I went up.  We passed at the bottom of the stairs.
One of the things that I did while I was upstairs was to sort out the
clothes from the airing cupboard.  There were several of your things.  I
took them into your bedroom, and put them on your bed, as I have done for
years.  There were two pieces of paper on the floor."

Peter began to go very red, and hung his head, in a vain attempt to hide
his blushes.

His mother continued.  "One piece was blank.  The other had writing on it.
Peter, I could not help seeing.  If it had been on your desk, I would not
have read it.  But as I picked it up I could not help seeing what was
written.  My dearest Anton.  Anton is a boy's name.  If it had been My
dearest Antonia, I would have smiled, and read no more.  I was so
surprised, that I saw more.  Words which I am ashamed to speak, about lips
and tongues exploring."

"That is why your mother and I want to know the nature of your relationship
with Anton," added his father.

Peter sat there in silence, not knowing how to, or wanting, to begin.
"Surely it is my business, just to do with me?"

"In one sense, yes, Peter," his father replied.  "But you are our son.  We
live together in this home, as a loving and caring family.  We have always
treated you with openness.  We have always trusted you.  There are I
believe very few secrets in this family.  If you are in trouble, we want to
help.  If you have been caught, entrapped in something evil, we want to
rescue you from it.  We care for you, Peter. We love you.  That is why we
want to know the nature of your relationship with this Anton."

Peter still sat in silence, so his father resumed questions.

"Is he a fellow student?"

Peter shook his head.

"What does he do?"

"He is a psychiatric nurse."  His parents looked at each other, links were
being made in their minds, their worst fears were being confirmed.

"How old is he?"

"He is just two or three years older than me.  Not much older."

"How long have you known each other?"

"Since just before Easter."

"Where did you meet?  Students and psychiatric nurses don't usually move in
the same circles."

"We met at Ben's," spoken slowly and reluctantly.

"I knew it.  I knew it," his mother interjected.  "I knew that nothing but
evil would come from your meeting up with Benjamin Menzies again.  Oh,
Peter!"

"Your relationship with Anton is a sexual relationship, isn't it?"

Peter nodded.

"We don't want to know all the anatomical details.  When did it become
physical?  Before Easter?"

"No."

"Well that is one good thing.  You did not lie to us about your sexual
innocence during the Easter vac then.  Or did you?  Have there been
others?" asked his father as a sudden burst of fearful suspicion crossed
his mind.

"No. Only with Anton."

"All through the summer term."

"No, right at the end of term."

"And then last week?"

"Yes."

"Did this Anton entice you in some way?  Seduce you?"

"No.  I think there was a mutual attraction."

"How long have you been attracted to men?"

"We thought Janet was your girl friend until the Christmas holidays,"
interposed his mother.

"It was Janet, who told me that she thought I was gay!"

"Janet!"

"Yes Janet.  She said that our relationship was not progressing.  That I
was only interested in her mind, and had no interest in her body, as a
woman.  She challenged me by saying that I was not interested in her as a
girl.  She said I was not like a normal boy, wanting to kiss her, cuddle
her, and have sex with her.  She said that she thought I was gay.  I was
initially angry, very angry."

"Was she right?" asked his father.

Peter nodded.  "I think so.  But I put down my lack of desire to do those
things to my wanting to obey God."

"Wanting to obey God.  What about your obeying God now?" said his father,
almost shouting.  "Where was obeying God, when you met up with this Anton?
What do you feel about it all now, Peter?"

Peter buried his head in his hands.  "I don't know. I really don't know."

"I think you do.  I think you are ashamed of what you have done.  You have
let God down.  You have let your family down.  You have let yourself down."

"Peter, I think you are ashamed of what you have done," said his mother.
"You have been brought up in a Christian home, knowing right from wrong.  I
believe your faith means a lot to you.  I don't think you want to grieve
the Lord.  I don't think you want to walk down a path of deliberate
disobedience.  Do you?"

Peter shook his head.

"I think you are at the moment at an important crossroads in your life,"
said his father.  "You can make your choice.  Over the last few weeks you
have taken the first few steps down an evil path.  If you go down that way,
where will you end up?  Will it be furtive gropings in public toilets?
Will it be shameful diseases that have to be treated surreptitiously in
special clinics?  Or will it be an early death with this AIDS thing?  Will
it be a lonely old age in some dingy flat?  That is the fate of the
majority of those who go down the homosexual path.  How it can be called
gay, when you look at facts like those, I just cannot understand."

Peter sank lower in the chair, his face buried ever deeper in his hands.
He could not look at his parents.

"But there is the other way.  The Lord is merciful, forgiving, and through
His Spirit he can empower, and redeem.  There are those who can help men
entrapped in the lusts of their desires.  With the Lord's help, you can
return to his way.  The way of purity and chastity.  There are many who
have a homosexual phase in their early life, who overcome it.  They are
able to lead a respectable, godly life.  There are many who have such
episodes, who turn from it all.  They get married, and with the help of a
good woman, lead a pure life, and have children."

"Peter, you love children," his mother said.  "Don't you want to have
children of your own?  Surely you don't want to put that possibility away
from you."

As his father had described the consequences of the homosexual choice,
vivid images had formed in his mind with each verbal picture.  But it was
his mother's words about children that really got through to him.  He did
like children.  The thought of children of his own was very strong and
positive.  That was a cost that would be hard to bear.  There was silence
for a few minutes.

"I said you stand at a crossroads.  You must make the choice.  `Choose you
this day who you will serve?'  Have you the strength to say like Joshua,
`As for me and my family, we will serve the Lord.'?"

There was another pause.  "I think we have all said enough for tonight.  I
think Peter, you should go up to your room, and think about all that is
involved and the possibilities.  Your mother and I will be praying for you.
Later we can decide what can be done."

Peter rose and slowly left the room.