The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (13 page)

"I'm sorry, Kate," said Daddy.
Simon and Frances peered over the landing banister rail, checking
on the state of the quarrel. "Can we go out for a drive, I've
another lesson tomorrow?"

"No. What about the children?"
said Mummy.

"They'll be all right for half
an hour. Frances can look after Simon."

"We'll be OK, Mummy," called
Frances unexpectedly.

"There you are," said Daddy.

"Half an hour then," said Mummy.
"Be good, children!"

"We will," chorused Frances and
Simon. They went downstairs while Daddy tied on the red 'L'
plates.

"Why do you always take these
off?" said Daddy irritably to Mummy.

"I don't like them on when I'm
driving," said Mummy. "and anyway, it's against the law."

"Other people do," said Daddy
going to the back of the Austin to tie on the other one.

"I'm not other people," retorted
Mummy quickly. At this point Frances nudged Simon, and nodded
towards the other side of the road. Mr Harrop was watching the 'L'
plates go on warily from over his fence. Frances put her hand up to
quash her giggles. Simon tried to suppress his laughter.

"I'll reverse the car off the
drive," said Mummy. Mr Harrop's sigh of relief was almost audible
the other side of the road. Daddy made no objection and soon the
Austin was on the road and Daddy was slowly and cautiously driving
off, Mummy, as the law demanded, sitting beside him. Simon ran to
the gate to see Daddy make the trafficator arm come out at the
corner as he was turning right. He would go past Daniel's
house.

"We won't get the Wolseley back,
Simon," said Frances kindly.

"It was much bigger and nicer
than the Austin."

"Yes, but we have a car now.
Most people don't. Maybe if we'd never had Grandpa's car, Daddy
would never have bought one."

"Yes, money doesn't grow on
trees," said Simon, wearily, but smiling.

Laughing, brother and sister
went back into the house.

1. 1956/2
   Gramophone
   

"Jennifer's got a new
radiogram."

Frances came in and deposited
this news like a lead brick dropped into custard. Simon looked at
Mummy, then Daddy, then Mummy again. Mummy wanted to play some
records. She liked Frankie Vaughan, and had met him because of her
job at the paper. She said he did lots of good for boys' clubs,
although Simon wasn't quite sure what they were.

Daddy put down his paper.

"Waste of money," he announced.
"Doesn't compare with going to concerts and getting the real sound
of the orchestra."

"But you can get pop records to
play as well," said Frances, refusing to let the thought of a
radiogram out of her head.

"Pop records?" exclaimed Daddy.
"Rubbish. Call that noise music?"

Frances realised her tactics had
been wrong. "You can buy proper music records too, Daddy," she
smiled at him.

Daddy smiled back. He called
Frances his little princess.

"Yes, darling, but we already
have a radio and there's the Third Programme. And of you want to
hear that awful noise that you like, you can hear it on the Light
programme." Daddy picked up his paper.

Simon thought it was time to
help. "Daniel's got a new bike for passing his eleven plus. He's
going to go to Henrys. If I pass, can we have a radiogram then,
Daddy?"

"What Daniel gets is up to his
parents. It's nothing to do with what goes on here," retorted Daddy
sharply from behind the newspaper.

Frances glared at Simon for his
unhelpful intervention. "Daddy. Please!" Frances tried again. The
paper was lowered.

"No. We can't afford it. Money
doesn't grow on trees."

How often had we heard that.
Mummy wanted a new sofa, but money doesn't grow on trees. The
sitting room needed a new carpet, but money doesn't grow on trees.
The stair carpet actually had holes it – but money doesn't grow on
trees.

"You always say that," said
Frances crossly. Simon looked in awe, waiting for the explosion
that would surely follow this backchat, as Daddy called it. But
Frances could get away with it, she always did. There was no
explosion. Daddy simply got up and left the room. Both Simon and
Frances looked at Mummy. She had said nothing during this
exchange.

"Don't worry, loves," she said,
"I've an idea."

The idea matured a couple of
weeks later. Daddy was going to be late, as usual, and Mummy came
home with a large black box. She set it down on the table, and then
produced another bag. The black box had a catch on the side and a
lid. It also had a hole in the side with a square thing in it.

"What is it?" Frances asked.
Mummy smiled, and undid the catch, and lifted the lid.

"A radiogram!" shouted
Simon.

"Don't be silly," said Frances.
"Radiograms are big. It's a gramophone."

It was undeniably a gramophone.
There was a turntable and a needle arm and a big hole where the
sound would come out. The function of the hole on the side now
became clear. It was to wind it up.

Simon was jumping and down,
excited. "Come on then, let's play it. How do you play it?"

"I thought you might ask
that," said Mummy smiling even more at her children's happiness.
She reached for the other bag and took out some records. There were
some twelve inch records of
Eine kleine
Nachtmusik
and a couple of ten inch records – Frankie
Vaughan! Soon the music was basting out.

There's an old piano and they
play it hot behind the green door!

Mummy grabbed Simon and Frances
by the hands and they danced round the room, hand in hand in a
small circle, filling the sitting room.

Soon Simon was swaggering round
the room, mimicking Frankie Vaughan from the television,

Give Me The Moonlight Give Me
The Girl, and leave rest, ho ho ho, to me.

Mummy and Frances were
laughing at Simon's impersonation. Mummy, Frances and Simon, happy
together, forgetting the outside world. Mummy was smiling, so Simon
kept on clowning. They played
Green
Door
again and Simon was kicking his legs up in
imitation of Frankie Vaughan. Mummy was laughing now. Simon wanted
to keep the moment going forever.

"I think we'd better pack it way
now, darlings," said Mummy. "Daddy will be home soon," she added by
way of explanation. No further explanation was needed. Simon knew
that Daddy would think it was a waste of money, even though Mummy
had bought it herself from her job with the newspaper and radio.
But nobody wanted the confrontation that would ensue. So the
gramophone was packed away.

Slowly the record
collection built up, and Simon would listen to the records,
sometimes alone, as long he remembered to change the needle every
two records. They came in small tin boxes of a hundred. Simon even
got to listen to the Mozart and grew to like it. Apart from the
music Daniel played for him on the piano, it was his first
introduction to classical music, a taste which lasted a lifetime.
But Noël Coward (
Señorita Nina, from
Argentina
) and Phil Harris (
Dark Town Poker Club
and
Woodman Spare that Tree
) were
favourites.

There were a couple of close
calls. One evening they were all four sitting watching the
television. Suddenly Daddy said, "What's that?" He was looking at
the worn carpet. Simon followed the direction of the look. There,
catching the light, was a gramophone needle. Daddy started to get
up, but quick as a flash, Frances jumped up and picked it up.

"It's mine," she said. "It's
from my needlework set," she added, thinking quickly to forestall
the inevitable question. Daddy sat down again and looked again at
the television. Simon, Frances and Mummy exchanged glances. Mummy
winked at Frances, Frances glared at Simon, who in her mind almost
certainly had dropped the needle.

Daddy very often stayed out
late, ostensibly late at work. Mummy used to cry sometimes and
Simon hated it when Mummy cried. Frances got upset sometimes too
and tried to comfort Mummy. Only later did Simon find out what they
both already knew, that Daddy wasn't working late, but playing
late, with a series of lady friends. He must have cut a dash, the
minor war hero, good looking, a prestigious job. Any job with the
BBC was prestigious but Simon gathered Daddy was some kind of boss.
This of course, as he later found, was the cause of the diversion
of so much of his ample salary, and of Mummy's developing drive for
financial independence.

They were playing the gramophone
one winter evening, it was only eight o'clock when suddenly Mummy
lifted the needle.

"Sshh!" she commanded.

They listened, and heard the
sound of the side gates being opened and the car engine running.
Panic set in.

"Quick!" said Mummy. Hastily,
they started packing up the records.

"Simon, the needle box! Frances,
put the television on."

Simon grabbed the box and put it
in its place under the lid. The television started to warm up. The
car moved down the side of the house. Frances was packing up the
records, Mummy closed the lid on the gramophone. She heaved it off
the table and rushed to the cupboard where it hid behind mundane
stuff. The back door opened. Frances pushed the records behind the
settee. Would the television warm up in time? Please, hurry up!
Daddy was in the hall, taking off his coat. The sound was now
coming from the television, but the picture wasn't there yet.
Footsteps, but going up the stairs. While they heard the toilet
flush and the taps run, the picture came on. They sat back in their
accustomed seats to watch it. Daddy came in.

"Hello, darling," said Mummy
brightly. "Finished earlier than expected?"

"Yes," said Daddy. "McLaren has
to go to London early in the morning to see the DG."

The DG came up occasionally in
conversation, and was usually spoken about in reverent terms.
Simon's DG was Daniel Gray of course, but he wasn't sure who this
DG was, but Daddy knew and had met the DG, who he was sure was a
Very Important Man. So this was obviously a good reason for the
meeting to finish early.

Daddy sat down as Mummy got
up.

"I'll get us some supper then,"
she said. The crisis had passed.

1. 1956/5 Daniel's new
   potency
   

It was a fine Spring Saturday
afternoon, Daniel was back from swimming club and the two were out
walking, going nowhere in particular, but heading for the Parade.
Daniel jumped onto a wall and started to walk along the top in
typical daredevil fashion, his feet now level with Simon's
shoulders, who ever cautious had stayed safely on the ground.

"Careful. You'll fall off and
break your neck," said Simon.

"Like Bert Trautmann. He played
in the Cup Final with a broken neck."

"Only the last bit though,
wasn't it?" said Simon, who didn't follow sports as closely as
Daniel, mainly because he wasn't any good at sports, and Daniel
was.

"That's enough though," said
Daniel. "He was a paratrooper and you have to be brave to do that.
Won medals."

"Yes, but that was for the
Germans."

"So? Still got to be brave,
haven't you?"

"S'pose so," admitted Simon, who
thought Daniel was brave.

Daniel had now reached the end
of the wall and contemplated how to get down. Simon stopped.
"How're you going to get down?" he asked.

"Jump," said Daniel. And he did,
landing next to Simon, laughing. They came to the Parade.

"Got any money?" asked Daniel.
Simon shook his head. "I've got a bit, come on," Daniel continued,
heading for the newsagent and sweetshop. Simon hung back.

"What if Cole's in there?"

"He probably will be, it's his
shop," said Daniel. Then remembering why Simon was cautious, he
went on, "It'll be OK. It was months ago. He won't even remember
you, even if he noticed at the time."

Simon moved reluctantly
forward.

"Come on, I'll be with you,"
urged Daniel. Reassured by that confirmation, Simon walked into
Cole's shop behind Daniel. They looked at the sweet display, which
brought back uncomfortable memories for Simon. He felt Mr Cole
looking at him intently, although in fact Mr Cole was busy helping
a man settle his paper bill. Only when that was done did Mr Cole
turn to the boys; without a trace of recognition, he smiled at
them.

"Well boys, what are you after?"
he said in a friendly manner, which made Simon feel even more
guilty about having stolen from him six months earlier.

"Refreshers or Spangles?" asked
Daniel of Simon.

"Refreshers."

Daniel bought a packet of
refreshers and they left the shop, to Simon's relief.

"See, it was OK. I bet he never
noticed the stuff you pinched, or that it was you if he did."

"S'pose so," said Simon, "I've
stayed out since."

"Well, now you can go in again.
Come on, let's try the den. I've got something to tell you."

"What? Is it about school?"
Simon knew that Daniel, being clever, had passed his eleven plus
exam and in September would not be at the juniors with him but at
the posh grammar school, King Henry VII Grammar School for Boys,
but known locally as the Hooray Henrys, a nickname originally given
by those who had failed to attend, but now adopted by the Henrys
kids themselves. There was a technical grammar school in the city,
but Hooray Henrys was the elite.

"No, I'll tell you in the den.
It's that kind of thing," said Daniel mysteriously. The two boys
made their way to the den, approaching carefully in case anybody
else was around. They pushed their way in through the bushes to
find the den empty. They sat down on the grass and looked out,
nobody was around. Daniel carefully broke the Refresher packet in
half and gave one part to Simon.