Blessed Be the Merciful
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 12
Time to reflect.
I watched from the little oval window as the aircraft banked over the wide sandy bay that is Dinard beach, leaving the image fading in my mind, but not the memory of our three weeks in that little heaven.
Henry left Leon with Peter while he drove me home to the Rectory at St Mawgs. The drone of yet another large lumbering grey transport aircraft circling overhead rumbled along through the chilly breeze. A few moments later it had landed on the nearby airfield and left me in the silence of the Rectory porch as I waved a goodbye to Henry. It was a heartfelt gesture from both of us. I think, in fact I know that Henry is the first 'grown-up' I can count as a friend. I have grown up somewhat on our French holiday, and now able to meet Henry half way as it were. I had gone there with one boyfriend and come home with another it seems, and learnt much about a few things along the way, with Henry's assistance. In fact my cup runneth over emotionally, and in practical terms, once, with Henry. He had asked me if my afternoon 'rests' with Leon had been productive. I smiled and said that they had indeed been productive.
'Completely productive Jamie?' Henry asks, as he takes another bite of his croissant chocolat.
'Yes.' I answer quietly. 'But it's a bit scary if I'm honest. It's changed me a bit.'
'It will do. How is Leon?'
'He's fine with it. I think we both want to go on seeing each other.'
'So you experienced one side of the coin. What about the other?'
It was two days before we left Dinard. On the walk home after dinner, with Leon and Peter out of earshot, Henry had asked me to sleep with him that night. Of course I agreed. We had both thought privately about what might happen should this come about. For Henry, it was a significant decision because it might at some stage have repercussions. He had to trust me, and be absolutely sure it was consensual. I couldn't wait. When it happened that night, it happened slowly and lovingly. I kept control throughout as I looked down on Henry, my legs either side of his body. But there's a point when one needs to abandon control and enjoy being the animals that we are. I'm on my back now as the deeply thrusting Henry finally fills me, and I, unable to resist the ultimate stimulation, wet my own body. Henry comes down with me, so gently, and with such loving kindness, and lets me sleep.
'You must come to lunch soon Henry……one Sunday…….yes, that would be ideal………and bring Peter of course……..and…….Leon, is it?' My mother insists.
They came to Sunday service. I counted sixteen in all, which included the eight bell ringers. Saint Mawgs has a wonderful set of bells and a loyal band of ringers too. My mother had roasted a chicken which was far too small for the six of us, gathered at the long pine dining table set on the uncarpeted oak planked floor. The conversation was polite and deferential rather than animated. My mother, sensitive to the underdog always, has clearly taken to Leon. I think she wanted to draw him into the conversation as he is naturally a quiet boy. I knew she would like him. And then, the Revelations of Saint Leon the Divine…….
'I was sponsored by a charity. I came here when I was two years old. I was in a Romanian orphanage after my parents disappeared. They were taken by the Securitate. My father criticised the Ceausescu regime. The charity is for orphaned boys and they pay for my education. I was lucky. I don't think I have any family left.'
And then there was silence. I could see tears in my mother's eyes, but she hasn't finished yet……..
'So Leon, where do you go in the school holidays?'
'The charity have a home we stay in until we are sent back to our schools. They are very kind to us, mostly. They do their best.'
'They do their best to love you. Is that true?'
'Yes, I suppose so. But they are all men there. It's a Jesuit charity in Oxford.' Answers Leon, but my mother is clearly unconvinced by Leon's response. She looks around the table at our faces as if she had been unexpectedly faced with an impossible challenge, something that was in her life a regular occurrence.
'That's a long way from Truro. You must come here……at least some of the time. We shall love you.'
Goodness me, what a statement. There was a long silence.
My mother has spoken, and when she speaks, it stays spoken.
'And who would like more potato?' She enquires waving a large serving spoon, by way of comic relief. Everybody knows there's no more meat. 'There's plenty more potato.'
We all laughed, even my father. In his heart, mistakenly thought stony by some, he knows that his dutiful wife is right. Looking pensive, he quotes…….
'There was a man sent from God.' And then silence again.
'Perhaps he can send a boy too?' My mother chips in, prompting more laughter.
Leon went back to stay two more days with Henry and Peter before making the journey back to Oxford. I 'phoned Peter to see how they were both feeling about life, but really I wanted to know about Leon's state of mind. Peter said that when he left he was tearful. That news made me tearful. I'm beginning to realise the depth of my feelings for him.
My mother was determined to look at all the possibilities concerning Leon's future, starting with a 'phone call to the Jesuit charity in Oxford. That call was made on the Monday following our lunch together. She was put through, eventually, to the Chief Administrative Officer who was helpful. The call was productive in that the charity is trying, due to increased costs, to find permanent homes for the youngsters in its care for those boys who are over the age of twelve and in secondary education. They would agree to fund their schooling until the end of Key Stage Three, the last compulsory stage of the newly imposed National Curriculum by the Education Minister, Kenneth Baker. Then they would be on their own, provided that the boy was resident in a stable and loving family home. Hurray, but it might take six months to become a reality for Leon. In the meantime, Leon has been granted leave to stay with us for the last two weeks of the holiday, and return to school direct from the Rectory. Now I have the tricky task of coming out to my parents.
Henry answered the 'phone the other night before I spoke to Peter. He jokingly reminded me that I was to become his child bride. I laughed and so did he. I know I will never marry a woman, but as kind and generous as Henry would be I'm sure, I ain't going to marry him either! Anyway, enough of this frivolity. I want my Leon here with me where I can love and protect the most beautiful boy in the whole wide world. My mother says he's definitely coming, so in my father's familiar words, laudate Dominum.
Peter 'phoned last night to apologize. He thinks he's upset me by ignoring Leon and I in Dinard. It's the girl thing. I told him that I was fine with his apparent change in direction and I'm not disappointed. I am of course, but one can't be selfish in these matters or mess about with Peter's head. Then he tells me he's found a girlfriend in his village, and that they go for walks in the countryside near where they live and 'mess about', which doesn't come as a great surprise to me. The girls are going to fall all over him, especially at his age when they, and we, are all experimenting with sex. Then he asks a strange question……..
'Do you still fancy me Jamie…….after what I've said?'
'Of course I do you idiot! I was in love with you if you hadn't noticed.'
'Come over then. I've got something to show you.'
There's a noisy bus to town, if you can call it a bus. Anyway I went. He looked as lovely as ever in his sexy French shorts. When I walk through the front door he's posing in the hallway, all provocative for me, no doubt designed to tease.
'What's that supposed to mean Peter? Trying to make me more jealous of the local tart you've picked up, or what?'
'She doesn't…….or won't.'
'Not like me then?' I say, trying to elicit a bit more information.
'So what did you want to show me?' I continue.
'Do you want to come upstairs Jamie? I told you, she doesn't want to do anything. Dad's out.'
Bloody hell, this is a surprise.
It's wonderful to feel his body again, and for him to feel mine. I know I've grown a bit, but he's grown more. He wanted the curtains shut as he thought sex in broad daylight was embarrassing. I undressed him which didn't take long, and he was bone hard in his knickers…….the ones Henry had bought us in Dinard. Then I noticed a tiny wet spot on the front of his pants. Oh yes! I pulled his sexy underwear down and had a good look at his cock resting in my hand.
'I think I know what you want to show me Peter.'
'Go on then.'
I was right. I made him wait and wait and wait, knowing that his new achievements would be all the more plentiful. Despite a severe wave of guilt that it was his father who had taught me how best to please his son, I gave Peter what he wanted, rather than needed, and what a girl of thirteen in a Cornish village hopefully can't give him the way I can now. In the process I got what I wanted too, the fresh, warm and utterly delicious taste of a boy. But not any boy…….this boy. With Leon, we would have immediately shared with a long wet kiss because we are both very queer, but when I offered it to Peter, he wouldn't accept. I lay on my back and very graciously, with four fingers and a thumb, Peter brought me very nicely to the last orgasm I will ever share with him. I hadn't had one for at least a week. A few seconds after the event, I laughed and looked at Peter's face. I knew I had performed pretty well.
'Oh shit! How did you do that Jamie?'
'Natural talent dear boy. You've shown me what you can do now and now I've shown you what you're missing.'
As we approach Penzance station, not only am I nervous, but I am also emotional. I'm mortified by the fact of Leon's loneliness all these years. Private calls to the boys at the Charity in Oxford are not usually allowed. We couldn't understand why not. But my mother doesn't give up easily on matters like this, and after some heated exchanges with the Administrator, one call was allowed, at a designated time that evening. We got the impression that Leon's responses were being monitored by someone. Our overwhelming impression is that we need to get Leon out of that place.
'So how are you Leon?' My mother asks, with me by her side.
'I'm alright thanks.'
'Are you sure Leon?'
'Yes,'
'You don't sound very sure?'
Silence.
'Leon? Are you there? Leon!'
The train from London was ten minutes late, which is not bad for this main line service that used the beautiful but notoriously unreliable and ancient Deltic diesel locomotives to pull ten coaches the two hundred and sixty five miles to Penzance via the beautiful city of Exeter. We waited at the barrier for Leon to appear. It was like one of those film dramas when the person gradually appears through the clearing steam carrying a leather suitcase……something out of Brief Encounters, my mother's all-time favourite film, and I think mine too. He must have sat at the back of the train because he was almost the last person off the train. He looked terrible. He was wearing very worn brown short trousers, the hem too far above the knee emphasizing his skinny legs, grey socks and black shoes, a tatty Aertex shirt and a grey school jumper. He looked thinner than ever and even the weight of the duffle bag over his shoulder looked too much for him. As he approaches us, he bursts into tears.
My mother held him for all of two minutes while she cried with him, and similarly me, helplessly watching on. Nothing was said, but what she did was telling the world that from this moment on, Leon was her child now, my brotherly lover if you like, and my father's second son, and will be loved as much as any human being could be.
There are six bedrooms, theoretically, at the Rectory. Four of them are uninhabitable, so not only was Leon to sleep in my room, but he was to join me in my bed. An old standard double was brought down from one of the dusty attic rooms to replace my single bed. The issue of my 'coming out' to my parents was no longer an issue. I'm sure that my parents know by now. I desperately wanted Leon with me as we sleep each night so I can hold him when he needs me, and when I need him. It was my mother's suggestion that we share from the outset, provided Leon wanted it that way too.
'Leon, we need to discuss where you are to sleep here. I think you should be as close to Jamie as possible. We believe you need very special care for a while. Would you mind sharing with Jamie?'
And so that was it. No need to do the 'coming out' thing. I think they know already, and there's plenty of time ahead to get things clear in all our minds. I'm sure any issues will evolve naturally without any cathartic dramas. My immediate worry is that 'our' new bed squeaks when you move about on it, but the bedroom is down the corridor from my parents' room so with any luck, they won't hear us when we 'move' about. My bedroom floor, as an alternative to the bed, has one rather threadbare rug on it, and not the best surface to lie on frankly, let alone anything else. Tricky. One nice thing though. On winter nights with no significant source of heat available other than one single bar portable electric fire that costs money to run so one doesn't tend to use it, I shall have a warm body next to mine. Maybe my mother factored that in? But I'm assuming nothing. Leon may not want to be touched at all, let alone pursue a physical relationship that began so beautifully in Dinard. It's up to him. If he wants, then I want. If he doesn't want, then nor do I.
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