SB - Nephelokokkygia: 2013

The boy came into my life by way of water.

Not, in his case, like Aphrodite borne ashore on a scallop shell, but splashing with boyish joie de vivre in the hotel pool. It was under a Greek sun, though, so there were parallels. The Aegean Sea was just yards away, across the hotel's private beach, impossibly blue, like his eyes. It wasn't just his eyes that defied belief, either - he was simply stunning, especially to someone like me. My attention was drawn to him, as though by the proverbial irresistible force. Never mind the legions of eyes, in and around the busy pool, any of which could have noticed the ravenous gaze with which I beheld him. He became aware of my attention, it seemed to me. He swam a few strokes, confident in his natatorial abilities, coming a little closer, then stopped, perhaps 10 feet away, stood up in the, to him, chest deep water, and regarded me curiously, his head slightly inclined to the left.

"Alexander," I whispered to myself, "a young Alexander." I was thinking of the classical statuary, depicting the Macedonian conqueror, which often showed him in a similar pose, head to the left. He looked surprised, all of a sudden, and appeared to be debating whether to speak, or not. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then made his decision, and committed.

"Excuse me?" A boy's voice, but with deepish undertones, as though on the verge of breaking, his accent indicative of a position fairly well up the social scale. "How do you know my name?"

My turn to feel, and doubtless look, surprised and confused. "Your name....I don't, of course, I've never seen you before."

"I'm sorry, but you just said my name, I thought you might know Mummy and Daddy."

Realisation dawned, and I smiled slightly. "You're Alexander?" He nodded. "I was thinking of Alexander the Great, he was often sculpted posed with his head to the left, just as you were standing before, but I'm pleased to meet you, 21st century Alexander!"

"I was named after him, Alexander the Great, I mean. Daddy is a historian, you see, and Alexander is his hero and special interest. He's written books about him."

"Very impressive. I'm a writer, too, although nothing nearly so academic, just a few stories." That was understating the case somewhat - my writing wasn't remotely academic, was little more than a hobby, in fact, and the genre I specialised in would no doubt shock 'Mummy and Daddy' to the core. I wrote erotic fiction. About boys. Beautiful, blue-eyed boys like young Alexander, for the most part.

****

I had plenty of time to indulge my hobby, along with its twin - I spent much of my life writing and travelling. I had, by any standards, enjoyed an extremely fortunate life, in most respects. My father had been a stockbroker, and a good one at that, amassing a considerable fortune over his career. We lived in very comfortable circumstances, in a large house in the leafiest of leafy suburbia, and with a second home in an idyllic Cornish village. I grew up as an only child enjoying all the advantages that money can bring, attending top quality private schools, where academic success seemed to come to me without undue effort, leading to me landing a place to study economics at Oxford, with a view to following in my father's footsteps into the financial world, my first class degree, without wishing to seem conceited, surprising no-one. I did, indeed, follow my father's profession, for a while, at least, but when he and my mother both died unexpectedly young, leaving me, in my early thirties, as the major beneficiary of an extremely substantial will, I soon realised that the prospect of accumulating more money, just because I could, held no appeal for me at all, so I effectively took a very early retirement. I had no need of our huge family home - I'd bought a small riverside apartment in a then not-too-fashionable part of London some five years earlier, which was more than adequate for my lifestyle when I was in the city, and there was also the Cornish cottage, which I loved with far more passion than either of my parents, metropolitan to the core, ever had - selling the place for a frankly obscene amount of money, which I invested to generate a comfortable monthly income, more, in fact, than I could spend, in most months, not having particularly extravagant tastes, and no love of ostentation.

Fortunate, yes, but there was one huge hole at the centre of my life which no amount of money or its material benefits could fill. I'd come to the knowledge, very early, before I'd even entered my teens, that I was attracted to boys my own age, and a year or two either side, and, as I stumbled through adolescence and into early adulthood, it quickly became apparent that those attractions weren't going to go away, that this was who I was. I went through all the agonies of guilt and shame imaginable, but, ultimately, they made no difference at all - no amount of hoping, wishing, even praying in the early days, when I still considered myself a believer, was ever going to make me anything other than a boylover. My educational career cemented that knowledge still more firmly, because I spent several years as a Monday to Friday boarder, and although the stories of rampant homosexual frolics in school dorms are almost always exaggerated, there certainly was sex available, if you knew where to look. I was initiated, totally willingly, into the delights of sharing my body with other boys, and in sharing theirs, well before my twelfth birthday, initiating others in my turn, always with their consent, as I progressed through the school. But then, one day, you realise that you're not a boy yourself anymore, and come to understand that the world at large considers your attractions to be completely anathema, considers you, as the 'owner' of those attractions, to be an evil pervert, vermin, undeserving of a place in 'their' society. The only coping strategy I could find was to bury myself, first in my studies, then in my career, and try to have as little contact with boys as was reasonably practicable. My family, particularly my mother, often wondered aloud about when I was going to 'find a nice young lady, and settle down', but nothing could have been further from my desires and wishes. I was considered reasonably 'good-looking', and, given our social position, certainly considered 'eligible', but, although I'd lost my virginity with boys, both in terms of giving and receiving, at 11, I was in my late twenties before I slept with a woman, and then only after a drunken party. It was, predictably, a thoroughly unsatisfactory experience, both physically and emotionally, and one which I had no ambition at all to repeat. The only other path I could have followed, with reasonable legitimacy, if not approval, particularly in the circles my parents moved in, would have been to have had a relationship with another man, but, if anything, that prospect appealed to me even less than being with a woman. I had no idea where my sexual orientation had come from, or why, but pubescent and near-pubescent boys was where my attractions laid, pretty much exclusively.

****

So, here I was, sitting on a padded sun lounger at an exclusive Greek hotel, the latest stopover on a journey around the world which had lasted for much of the previous ten years, a forty-something near-recluse, looking into the seemingly bottomless eyes of one of the most beautiful boys I'd ever seen. He appeared to be at ease, despite my perhaps over-enthusiastic perusal of his charms, and seemed to be in no hurry to leave. He waded in my direction, and laid his chin on his hands on the coping stone at the edge of the pool, looking up at me, his head again slightly inclined to the left.

"We're going on a coach trip to Pella the day after tomorrow," he told me. "Daddy's been there before, of course, because of his studies, but Mummy and I have never been. It's supposed to be very interesting, especially if you like Alexander. You should come."

He smiled, and I felt an involuntary shiver run down my spine. I liked Alexander, right enough, but it was this apparition in front of me rather than his historical namesake that I had in mind. I had nothing more adventurous planned than relaxing beside the pool, and maybe writing a little, in the coming days. A trip to the ancient Macedonian capital, particularly if I could spend the day close to this wonderful boy, was a more than alluring prospect.

"I might just do that, if there are any places left on the trip. I hadn't really thought about going very far on this holiday, but you're right, it does sound interesting. I wasn't into history that much at school, but that was because we didn't seem to study anything apart from the Second World War. I've been much more interested in it over the last few years, though, and I've been lucky enough to visit some fantastic places. Yes, I'm sure Pella would be a good one to add to my list. Probably better than just slobbing around by the pool, anyway."

Alexander chuckled. "You don't have to sit there doing nothing, you can come and swim, you know."

"I'll let you into a little secret - I can't swim at all. I was scared of the water when I was a little boy, and never really got over it, until it was too late. You look like a really good swimmer, though."

"Thank you, Mr....sorry, I forgot, I don't know your name."

"It's Mr Parrish, but please call me David - Mr Parrish was my dad!"

The boy laughed again. "OK....David. Yes, I can swim quite well, I learned from when I was a baby, really. Watch what else I can do!"

He hoisted his light frame upwards with practiced ease, and stood in front of me for a moment, his lithe, wet body glittering in the light, before walking a few paces and turning back towards the water. Sun-girt, silhouetted against the dazzle, a young god on his pedestal as he stood on the pool's edge, before arrowing gracefully into the enveloping blue.

"Xander, sweetie, you're not supposed to dive into this pool, it's too shallow," came his mother's high, carrying voice.

"Sorry, Mummy," he called back. He looked at me, and winked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. I smiled in return.

"Very impressive. Don't get yourself into trouble on my behalf, though, and definitely don't hurt yourself."

"I'll be fine. Mummy worries about everything - Daddy says sometimes that if she hasn't got anything to worry about, she'll invent a problem! She's really nice, though, I'm sure you'd like her. Come and say hello."

My initial instinct was to refuse, to hide, as I'd spent so many years doing, but Alexander's earnest gaze seemed to be saying something to me, encouraging me to do as he asked. Probably nothing more than wishful thinking engendered by my overheated imagination, but, I thought, if I did want to see more of the boy, it would certainly help to have his mother onside, so, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I nodded, rising from my comfortable perch and following the boy around the pool, to where a woman, perhaps in her late thirties, was sitting under a large umbrella, a bottle of water in an ice bucket and a thick paperback on the table at her side. As she looked up at her son's approach, it was evident who he'd inherited his looks from - she was, even to my eyes, an undoubtedly attractive woman.

"Hi, Mummy. This is David, he's going on the trip to Pella on Thursday. He's a writer, like Daddy."

I wanted to tell Alexander not to be so sure about my plans, and drew breath to have my say, but at that moment, he glanced up at me, and winked again, leaving me speechless. The woman smiled slightly.

"I see Xander's up to his usual tricks, organising everyone's lives for them." The boy looked slightly abashed, and blushed a little.

"But, Mummy, he's interested in Alexander the Great, he does want to come...."

I thought it the right moment to come to the boy's rescue. "It's fine, I would have booked the trip, had I known about it. I'm grateful to your son for drawing my attention to it." I held my hand out to her. "David Parrish, pleased to meet you."

She shook my hand briefly. "Julia Bellingham. Parrish? I'm sure my mother had some friends by that name. Did you live in Highgate, by any chance?"

"Small world! We did indeed live up there, near the school. I sold the house when my parents died, it was far too large for me. I have an apartment in Vauxhall, by the river. It's more than ample for what I need, being on my own. Not that I'm there all that often, in all honesty - I spend a lot of time travelling, it's my main indulgence in life, and even when I am in the UK, I spend more time at my cottage in Cornwall than I do in London. I've done my time in the rat race, I'm quite happy to have dropped out!"

"You're not married, then?" Again, maybe my imagination, but there seemed to be a little more meaning behind her question than the superficial words. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alexander holding his breath, or so it appeared.

"Never got around to it - university, then working twelve or fourteen hour stints in the City, being a bit of a nomad these days. It might happen sometime, but, no, there's no-one special in my life at the moment." Except, I thought, except, just maybe, the paragon of pubescent beauty standing five feet to my left, now smiling a small, secret smile to himself. It seemed insane, but even though I'd first met the boy mere minutes earlier, I felt as though there was already some sort of a connection between us. But what sort of a connection, even if it wasn't simply imaginary, could it possibly be? I had no idea.

"Well, each to their own, but I can't imagine being without Harry and Xander. I don't know where I'd find the motivation."

"Oh, there are moments when I wonder whether I've done the right thing, but I have some good friends, and I usually seem to meet interesting people, wherever I find myself." I glanced in Alexander's direction, and his face lit up with a broad smile.

Julia noticed, and smiled again, a little more warmly, it seemed. "Don't let this bossy little so-and-so have his own way, he'll have your diary organised for the rest of the year, never mind the rest of your holiday, if you give him half a chance!"

"Hey, that's not fair, I'm not bossy!" the boy interjected.

"No, as long as everyone does what you want, you're very reasonable," his mother replied drily.

"Obvious management material!" I laughed.

"Hah, and I thought you were my friend!" the boy said in mock outrage, his eyes betraying the smile his pouting mouth was endeavouring to hide. He turned to his mother. "When's lunch?"

"Have you got hollow legs, young man? You've only just had breakfast!"

"That was hours ago, I'm starving!"

Spotting an opportunity too good to pass up, I chimed in. "I'm a bit peckish myself, I only had coffee for breakfast. With your permission, Julia, I'll take this young gentleman away and feed him, my treat. He looks as though he's going to fade away at any moment, doesn't he?"

The boy stuck the tip of his tongue out at me, earning a sharp glance from his mother. Again, I intervened on his behalf. "Just a boy, Julia, I'm sure - no offence intended, or taken."

The woman sighed, before casting a thoughtful glance in my direction, and apparently coming to a decision. "I hope you've got plenty of patience, he can be a bit of a handful."

"I'm sure I'll manage - there's still more than a little of the boyish inside me, too. I'll give as good as I get!"

"Xander, can you get changed, please, you can't take up David's kind offer of lunch in your swimming costume."

"OK!"

Before I'd had time to fully process the fact that Julia had agreed to my taking her son to lunch - the 'friends of the family' connection seemingly enough to establish my trustworthiness in her eyes - Alexander had, without the slightest hesitation or self-consciousness, peeled off his wet trunks, right there by the poolside, grabbed a towel from a bag beside his mother's chair and dried himself briefly, before pulling on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt he disinterred from the same bag. The whole episode had lasted only thirty seconds or so, but I doubt if I breathed for the whole time. Every detail seemed to be instantaneously etched in my memory, as though by a laser beam, every inch of his glabrous, silky-smooth body. Fortunately, Julia didn't seem to have noticed my hypnotised demeanour, her attention was on her son. She shook her head, and chided him, albeit good-naturedly.

"Good Lord, child, have you no modesty at all!"

The boy shrugged. "What for?"

"Well, you might think you're the new Adonis, but that doesn't mean the whole world agrees with you!"

"No-one cares, nobody's looking. You don't mind, do you, David?"

"No, no, of course not. I spent years at boarding school, nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times before!" I hoped my reply hadn't come across as over-eager, too hasty, too pat. Julia sighed again.

"Boys! There's no answer to them!"

"You know you love me really, Mummy!"

"For my sins! Go on with you! And don't you be taking advantage of David's good nature."

"Of course I won't!" Alexander said as he slipped on a pair of expensive looking sandals. "Come on, David!"

"Shall I bring him back here afterwards, Julia?"

"I might go to the room shortly, it's getting a bit too warm for my tastes. Xander has a card key, anyway, in his wallet. Just send him upstairs when you've had enough of him. I doubt it will take long!"

The boy raised his eyebrows in comical exasperation. "Don't listen to Mummy, David! I'm nowhere near as bad as she makes out!"

I smiled at the familial badinage. "I'm sure he'll be charming company, Julia. Thank you for allowing me the pleasure."

Alexander was already on the move, heading towards the large glass doors leading into the reception area of the hotel. "See you later, Mummy!"

"'Bye, sweetie, you be good!"

"I will!"

I said my own goodbye to the woman, and followed in Alexander's wake, catching up with him just as we entered the air-conditioned cool of the building. Without the slightest preamble, the boy spoke again, decisively.

"You've got a job to do before we go to lunch, David."

"A job?" I replied, slightly bemusedly.

"Yes, you've got an excursion to book!"

I laughed out loud. "You aren't backward at coming forward, are you?!"

"Well, you wouldn't want to miss out, would you?" He looked me in the eye, as though he was saying 'and miss the pleasure of my company, too'.

"No, you're right, now you've put the idea in my head, I'd be disappointed not to be able to go. You know there might not be any places left, though, don't you?"

"All the more reason to do it now, then!" He nudged into my side, subtly, or not so subtly, directing me towards the reception desk. Luckily, the staff spoke impeccable English - I could get by in a few different languages, French, Spanish, German, but I hardly spoke a word of Greek, beyond 'please' and 'thank you' - and, equally fortunately, there were a handful of places left on the trip, so, a few minutes later, I was tucking the newly-issued ticket into my wallet. Alexander smiled broadly.

"See, I told you you'd be going to Pella!"

"Your mum was right, you are a handful! A nice handful, though!"

Rather than the smile I expected in response to what I considered a mere throwaway, Alexander looked at me seriously, thoughtfully, before responding.

"You're nice, too, that's why I...." He broke off abruptly, as though afraid of saying too much. After a short, but noticeable hiatus, he continued. "Will you sit with me on the coach on Thursday?"

"If you want me to, and your parents don't mind, of course I will."

Now the smile returned to the boy's face. "Thanks! Mummy and Daddy won't mind. It's going to be a fun day!"

"That's Thursday organised, then. What about now? What would you like for lunch?"

"Let's go to the beach café, and see what they've got."

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a wooden table under the awning of the café. To my surprise, Alexander had chosen a chicken salad, rather than the hot dogs and burgers on offer that I would have expected to hold more appeal to a boy of his age. I had a similar meal in front of me, a Greek salad with some local feta cheese and olives.

"Before we go any further," I said to the boy, "what should I call you? I noticed your mum calls you Xander, is that what you prefer, or would something else be better?"

"Some of my school friends call me Alex, a few people call me Alexander, I don't mind that much, really. Xander's fine, though."

"OK, Xander it is, then. I've been trying to work this out for the last half hour or so, but I haven't quite managed it, so do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

"I'm 11, nearly 12. I'll be starting at grammar school after the holidays. I did the entrance exam at the beginning of the year."

"Hard work?"

"Well....I don't want to sound big-headed, or anything, but it was pretty easy, actually. I got 98%."

"Impressive! Nothing wrong with being proud of your achievements, as long as you don't use them to put anyone else down. And definitely nothing wrong with being clever, even though some people seem to resent it."

"I got called names, 'teacher's pet', 'nerd', that kind of thing, sometimes at primary, but Mummy and Daddy told me not to worry, they were only jealous. And my friends didn't care that I was the cleverest in the class, it didn't stop us having fun!"

"That's what friends are for, accepting you as you are, whatever that is. Are any of your friends going to the same school as you?"

"Yes, two or three got in, one lives really close to us, so I'll probably being going on the bus with him. My best friend won't be going, though, his parents are sending him to boarding school, so I'll only see him in the holidays. I'm sad about that."

"Will you able to e-mail him, and that kind of thing? It's quite easy to keep in touch with people these days, easier than when I was your age."

"I hope so, I'm going to miss him. He's been my best friend since we started in the infants. You said to Mummy that you went to boarding school, what was it like?"

"Well, I only went from Monday to Friday, so I was at home every weekend, as well as for holidays, so it wasn't too bad. It was better in some ways, doing it like that, because I had two sets of friends, those at school and the ones at home. I was pretty lucky, really. I did get a bit homesick, especially when I first started there, but you soon get used to it."

"Did you really see lots of other boys undressed, like you said?" Xander grinned.

"Loads! In the dorm, in the showers, every day, really. You don't stay shy for long in that kind of environment!"

"I bet that was fun...." The boy's voice tailed off, and he blushed, looking thoroughly embarrassed, as though he'd given a big secret away. I replied quickly, not wanting him to feel bad about himself.

"Yeah, I liked it! You soon got used to it, though, like most things about the school, you hardly even noticed after a while."

Xander looked a little less uncomfortable, seemingly reassured that he wasn't unique. He smiled again, a little sheepishly. I thought it more than time to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Where's your dad? You said he was coming on the trip, so I guess he's around somewhere."

"He's in Thessalonika, at a meeting at the university there, he'll be back tomorrow evening. Mummy was pretty annoyed with him, because he didn't tell her about the meeting until after he'd booked the holiday, but I think she's forgiven him now. One of Mummy's friends is arriving here tomorrow, too, so that's cheered her up even more." The look on the boy's face suggested that he didn't share his mother's enthusiasm for the new arrival.

"Not a friend of yours, though?"

"Oh, Alice is alright, I suppose, but she never stops talking. Especially if she's had a couple of glasses of wine. And she always goes on about embarrassing things I was supposed to have done when I was little. She's a bit of a pain, really!"

I laughed. "I know what you mean - one or two of my parents' friends drove me up the wall when I was young! I used to go and find a book to read and hide in my room, or something!"

"Not Granny and Grandad, I hope - Mummy said they knew your parents."

"No, no, I don't think so - the one I remember particularly wasn't even married. Miss Kingsley. She seemed to have decided I was her surrogate son, always wanted me to sit on her lap, all that kind of thing. She used to use some really overpowering, flowery perfume, I always smelled of it for hours after she'd come to visit, I hated it! What's your grandparents' surname, by the way, I'd probably remember them."

"Dunstan," Xander replied.

"Oh yes, I remember Mr & Mrs Dunstan, they were always very nice, and I'm not just saying that because they're your grandparents - they were nice. They came to both my parents' funerals, they were very kind and sympathetic, but not in an intrusive way. That was the last time I saw them. I hope they're both well."

"Yes, they're fine, mostly - Granny uses one of those mobility scooter things, because she sometimes has a bit of trouble walking, but, apart from that, they're very well."

"I'm glad, please remember me to them the next time you see them."

"I will." There was a pause, just long enough to be noticeable, long enough to be the precursor to something new. "David?"

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you get married?" I frowned somewhat, not in annoyance, but in consternation, because it really wasn't the question I'd been expecting from this young boy. Xander noticed, and blushed, dropping his gaze to the plate in front of him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"Xander, please, don't worry, I'm not angry with you, I promise. I was just a bit taken aback, that's all. I....I've just never met anyone I wanted to spend my life with." I didn't sound convincing, even to myself - what I'd instinctively told him, while not a direct lie, was certainly an evasion, more than a little. But what else could I say? Marriage, of course, was completely out of the question in any way that wouldn't have been an utter sham, and, overall, I'd come to the conclusion, while I was still in my teens, that what I really wanted wasn't obtainable, so I simply hadn't pursued the matter. The boy, though, seemed to take my answer at face value.

"Do you think you ever will?"

"I don't know, Xander, no-one can see into the future, but, given my lifestyle, I doubt it. I'm too set in my ways, I think, I don't know if I'd be able to compromise enough." Again, the truth, but not the whole truth - the biggest compromise I'd have to make, by far, would be the complete denial of what I knew with certainty to be my sexuality. I felt the need to deflect attention away from myself a little. "What about you - I bet a guy with your looks has got the girls swarming around him!"

Xander frowned, his eyes once more downcast, and blushed again. "I....I don't like girls all that much, really," he mumbled.

I immediately felt guilty at having embarrassed him just to protect myself. "I'm sorry, Xander, really I am. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You're very young, anyway, plenty of time to look around and decide what will suit you best."

In the fashion he seemed to have perfected so quickly, of throwing me completely off-balance, he looked up, looked straight at me and smiled. "Yes," he said. "I've got an idea of what that might be, already."

His gaze seemed to penetrating the deepest recesses of my mind, as though he knew who and what I was, and how I was starting to feel about him. The moment of connection was broken, though, as he turned his attention to the seashore.

"Shall we walk along the beach after lunch, David? It looks really nice, but Mummy doesn't like beaches much, especially when it gets hot in the afternoon."

"We can if you want to, as long as you're not going to get sunburned."

"I'll be fine, Mummy put some of that all-day type sunblock on me earlier, you know, the waterproof stuff."

"Are you sure - I've read that sort of stuff isn't as effective as they say it is, that you need to put more on, every few hours, during the day."

"Oh....I didn't know that. I'll have to go back to the room and get it, then."

"Or we can go to the shop in reception, and buy some - I'll need some myself. I'm quite lucky, my skin tans easily, but I can still get burnt if I'm careless."

"OK, then, we can share it. I'll buy it, I've got some money, you paid for lunch."

"No, no, Xander, really - I appreciate your offer, but you save your money, spend it on something more fun than sunblock."

"I want to get something for you, though," the boy pouted.

"I'll tell you what, buy me an ice cream after our walk."

The smile returned to his face. "It's a deal!"

An hour later, after a slow stroll a mile or so along the beach and back, we were sitting in the shade of an umbrella by the pool bar, enjoying our frozen treats, and cold drinks that I'd bought to go with them.

"You'd better check in with your mum, soon, Xander. I don't want her to think I've kidnapped you, or anything."

"She'll be asleep, probably. I'll go upstairs and see, though. Can I come back down afterwards? We could play a game, or something. I like....spending time with you."

"If your mum doesn't mind, I certainly don't, I'm enjoying your company, too. What games have you got?"

The boy grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Chess, draughts, Othello, a few more on my tablet. What do you like to play, David?"

"Well, I can play chess, but I'm completely rubbish at it. Can you play backgammon?"

"Sort of - Daddy started to teach me a couple of months ago, but we haven't had much time to practise lately. I like it, though. Have you got a backgammon set?"

"I've got a travel version in my room. I can go and get it while you call in and see your mum, if you like."

"Which room are you in, David?"

"423. Why?"

"Well, I thought....maybe we could sit on your balcony, or something."

"I don't know whether your mum would like that - us being alone in a room together, that is."

"Why?....oh....oh, I see....I think," Xander stuttered. "You....you wouldn't....do anything....anything to me, though, would you?"

"Of course not, Xander. But your mum might not trust me that far, I mean, she doesn't really know me, not yet, anyway. Maybe later in the week, when both your parents have had a bit more of a chance to talk to me. I do want to spend more time with you, really, no point in putting that at risk by having your parents think I've got ulterior motives," I told him.

"What does 'ulterior' mean?"

"Something hidden, something more than a person is admitting. Especially in a bad way."

"I understand, I think, David. So shall we come back here, then, if Mummy says its OK?"

"I think that would be best, for the moment. Come on, let's go inside for now, and I'll hopefully see you again shortly."

I quickly ducked into the shower to freshen up while I was in my room, returning some fifteen minutes later, backgammon set in hand, to the same table Xander and I had recently been occupying. There was no sign of the boy, though, to my disappointment. I ordered another drink, a beer this time, and sat watching the sunlight glinting on the ripples in the pool, and the resulting reflections on its tiled inner walls. The effect was soporific, and I felt my eyelids begin to droop a little. Before I could sink any further into torpor, though, two small hands gently covered my eyes from behind.

"Guess who?"

"Attila the Hun!"

Xander giggled musically. "Right first time!"

As the boy took his hands away, and I turned my head, I saw Julia standing beside him, smiling a little.

"You really are a glutton for punishment, David! If I were you, I'd have thrown him to the sharks hours ago!"

"Not at all, Julia, I've really enjoyed myself. It's not every day I get the chance to be a boy again! Can I offer you a drink?"

The woman glanced at her watch. "It's a little early for me, really, but I am on holiday, after all. A glass of Chardonnay would be very nice, thank you."

"Would you like a drink, Xander?" I asked the boy.

"Could I have an orange juice, please?"

"Coming right up!"

As I returned from the bar, I noticed that Xander had arranged the chairs so that he was sitting close to me, on my right, while his mother sat opposite us.

"Well, David, it certainly looks like my boy has taken a shine to you. You have my deepest sympathy!"

Xander wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Thanks, Mummy," he said ironically. "You make me really sound like Attila the Hun!"

"I'm very pleased to have met him, Julia. He is, from what I've seen so far, very pleasant company, and a good conversationalist, too. He was telling me how well he did in his grammar school entrance exam, and I'm not at all surprised, now that we've talked for a while."

"He is a clever boy, we know that, and we're very glad, really. Being an only child, I suppose he's spent more than an average amount of time in adult company, and we've certainly never talked down to him. He's a bit of a sponge, really, when it comes to knowledge. Some people find that a bit much to cope with - one, at least, of his primary school teachers couldn't handle him at all, I think she was afraid Xander knew more than she did!"

"I was much the same, as a boy - I was an only child, too, as you might know, my parents always encouraged me academically, and were always ready to answer my questions. I owe them a lot, I really do." I turned once more to the boy. "I guess you enjoy learning about new things, Xander, I know I always did."

"Yes, I find most things interesting - and, anyway, Mummy, I did know more than Mrs Markham, she wouldn't have known a bacterium from her backside!"

Julia spluttered into her drink. "What an expression! There's no need to be rude about the poor woman!"

"Well, she was rubbish! Everyone thought so, not just me."

"Well, yes, she didn't have a very good reputation, I must admit. You see what I mean, David, when I said this young man can be a handful!"

I laughed. "It's all part of what makes him such good company, as far as I'm concerned. He certainly isn't a shrinking violet, and all power to him, I say!"

"I don't know whether you're brave, or foolhardy! Xander tells me, by the way, that you've managed to book for the trip to Pella, and that he's asked if he can sit with you."

"Yes, another example of his, self-confidence, shall we say! He wasn't about to let me forget to go to reception! And, with your blessing, of course, I'd be delighted to have him keep me company on the journey." I glanced down at the boy, to see him looking back at me with what seemed to be little short of adoration. I'd been concerned before about what his mother might think of my intentions towards her son, but now, I was more worried that he might be developing a crush on me. That would complicate matters, I thought. None of that seemed to have filtered through to Julia, though, or, if it had, she was choosing to ignore it.

"I'll be more than happy to get a bit of peace and quiet, and I'm sure Harry will, too. Xander will talk your ears off, given the chance!"

"As I said, Julia, if this afternoon has been a typical example of his conversational skills, the pleasure will be all mine. If I could have guaranteed having a son like Xander, I might even have made more of an effort to get married!"

"Are we going to play backgammon, now, David?" Xander said, obviously having had his fill of the adult chit-chat.

"Thank you, Xander, I know when I'm not wanted!"

"It's not like that, Mummy, but David and I were going to play."

"I'm only teasing, young man! Anyway, I want to go and have a bath. You've got your key, haven't you?"

"Yes, Mummy. What time do you want to go to dinner?"

"Oh, about 7:00, I suppose. Come in at about 6:00, please, so that you can get a shower and get ready. Thank you for the drink, David. Will you join us for dinner, Harry won't be back until tomorrow, as I believe Xander's already told you?"

"I'd be honoured, Julia. Thank you."

The woman stood to go. "I'll see you both later, then."

"Later, Mummy." The boy barely glanced at her, the majority of his attention still focused on me.

I was determined to remain on my best behaviour, and stood as Julia turned to leave. "I'll meet you outside the restaurant, Julia, if that suits you?"

"That will be fine, David. I'll see you there."

Xander's intelligence was once more clearly illustrated on the backgammon board. He only needed one reminder of the rudiments of the game, and, after a mere couple of rounds, he was already beginning to pick up on some of the strategies I was using, quickly becoming a more than challenging opponent. He'd come within an ace of winning the third game we played, and triumphed easily in the next, despite my not soft-pedalling at all.

"It looks like you're going to be backgammon champion this week, Xander! I definitely don't want to play you at chess, you'd embarrass me!"

The boy smiled wryly. "You weren't really trying, though, were you?"

"Do you want to bet! I never let anyone beat me, at anything, if I can help it! I think it goes back to when I was at boarding school, you could never let anyone think you were a weakling in that environment, you'd have been trampled underfoot, and maybe even more from when I worked in the City, it was all very dog-eat-dog there. No, you won fair and square, because you played better than me. No other reason."

Xander suddenly looked worried. "What's the matter?" I asked.

"It....it's Robert. My friend, my best friend, who's going to boarding school, you know. He's very shy, he might get bullied, if it's like you say. I don't want him to get hurt, I lo...." The same abrupt break in the flow of words as I'd heard at lunchtime.

"Try not to worry, Xander, people, parents and teachers, are much more aware of the issue these days than when I went to boarding school. That was over thirty years ago, don't forget. The schools do their best to make sure that sort of thing doesn't happen, especially to the youngest boys, because they're afraid of being sued by unhappy parents, if for no other reason. I'm sure Robert will be fine. He'll probably feel homesick, like most of us did, at first, but I would guess, if my experience is anything to go by, that he'll soon get over it. The schools are used to that, too, there are house masters, dorm masters, the matron, lots of people who boys can talk to if they've got problems, and they really are listened to, I promise you. I'm sure the school he's going to have told him and his parents all this stuff, but if you tell him you've been talking to someone who's been to boarding school, and who knows first-hand, it might help him."

The concern in Xander's face had eased a little, but he still didn't seem completely convinced.

"I suppose I feel worse....because I won't be able to be there for him, like I was at primary. When we were in Year 3, I punched a Year 6 boy in the face because he was picking on Robert. I got in loads of trouble, but that boy didn't do it again!"

"I can just imagine you doing that, too, you feisty young terrier! Not that I approve of violence, but sometimes you have got to stand up for what's right, even if you have to take some consequences yourself. No wonder Robert chose you for a friend, anyone would."

"I wouldn't have done that, punched that boy, I mean, for anyone. But Robert, he's....special."

Xander looked at me again, apprehensively. I didn't speak, but waited if to see if he wanted to elaborate. "If....if I tell you something, David, will....will you keep it a secret? Especially from Mummy and Daddy, please? And promise not to....hate me, too."

"Xander, the second promise is easy - I can't think of anything, anything at all, that you could tell me that would make me hate you. And I will make the first promise, too - but with one exception."

"What's that?" the boy whispered.

"That if anyone or anything is harming you, hurting you, then I'd have to tell your parents."

"No, David, it's nothing like that - if it was, I'd tell them myself, straight away, I mean it!"

"Well, you've heard what I have to say on the matter, so it's your choice. If you want to tell me, I'll certainly listen. And I won't tell anyone else, without your permission, except in the one case I've already mentioned."

Xander nodded, and swallowed, visibly, then licked his lips.

"It....it's about Robert."

"Yes?" I said, encouragingly, I hoped.

"He....he's not just my best friend, he's....sort of....my....boyfriend, too. We haven't done any sexy stuff, because Robert doesn't want to - I would, if he wanted, but he doesn't - but we've....kissed and cuddled, held hands when no-one's looking, that sort of thing. I....I love him, and he loves me, too. That's why I'm so worried about him going to boarding school - if they find out....about him, about us....they'll hurt him, won't they?"

"Xander....there might be a few, yes, who might try and bully him, but that would be the same whichever school he went to, that's not something peculiar to boarding schools. But I can tell you, truthfully, that he won't be the only boy there who....likes boys. And it's like anything else, if he doesn't tell anyone, there's no way they can know. That would be my advice, that you could pass on to him, maybe - not to say anything to anyone unless he absolutely knew he could trust the person concerned. There's an old Greek saying, since we're in Greece, I don't know whether you've ever heard it - 'a secret is only a secret if only two people know it, and one of them is dead'. But the general principle applies - the less people know about something, the less chance there is of it accidentally coming to the attention of someone you don't want it to."

"Were there boys....who liked other boys at your school, David?"

I should have expected the question, the way the conversation was going, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks. My head seemed to spin, my stomach churned, and, for long seconds, I couldn't speak at all.

"David, are you alright?"

"Y....yes, Xander, sorry. Yes, there were boys like that at my school, quite a few."

The boy drew breath to speak again, but, instead, as he looked intently at me, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell into an 'O' of surprise.

"Did....did you....were you....?"

"One of those boys, you mean?" Xander nodded, slowly, hesitantly.

I looked down, and, not trusting myself to speak, simply nodded my own head.

"Oh....wow!" Then, suddenly, he looked startled again. "Is that....why you were....watching me in the pool this morning?"

"Y....yes," I mumbled, "I'm afraid so."

"You still....like boys, even though you're a grown-up?"

Again, I couldn't find the words, and nodded once more.

"B....but you....you're....nice. Everyone always says....men like that are horrible and....and....evil, and just....want to hurt boys." His confusion was almost palpable.

"I....I don't want to....hurt anyone, Xander. Especially....especially not you. I....I haven't met many boys, not since I left school, anyway, I've always stayed away from them, because....because I was afraid....that if I....was too close to a boy....I might do something....something the boy....didn't want. But you....you're special, Xander, even though I've only known you for a few hours, I know, already that you're a very special person. I'd never, never, do anything to knowingly hurt you, I promise. You asked me not to hate you, Xander - can I ask you not to hate me, even if you don't want to see me anymore, please."

"I....I don't....hate you, David, really I don't. It....it's just a bit of a shock. I....I'd better go in. I....need to....think about things. I....I'll see you at dinner, OK?"

"OK, Xander," I whispered. The boy walked away from our table, without looking back. I might have cried, but I was just too numb. The perfect boy, found, then lost. In a quarter of a day. I could scarcely believe it.

****

I was sitting on the balcony of my room, looking morosely out over the hotel grounds and across towards the beach. The sun was lower in the sky, but still warm, as evening approached. I'd showered and dressed for dinner, in the 'smart casual' style that the hotel preferred in its restaurant, but it had been very much a case of going through the motions. If it hadn't been for the 'etiquette' I'd learned from my parents and their social circle, the expectation that if someone invited you to dinner, unless you were physically unable to, you attended, I wouldn't have bothered. I had no appetite at all, for food, or, really, for life in general, at that moment. Then I heard a light knock on my door. I made my way slowly across the room, opening the door reluctantly. It was, as I had half-expected, Xander. He looked stunning, in a white, long-sleeved, open-necked shirt and sandy-coloured trousers, smart brown suede, lace-up shoes, wearing a thin gold chain around his neck. Neither of us spoke, for what seemed like an age, but was probably no more than ten seconds.

"H....hello, David. I asked Mummy if I could come and get you, bring you down to the restaurant. She's not quite ready, yet, can....can we....talk for a minute."

"Of course, Xander. Come in."

We made our way to the balcony, sitting on opposite sides of the small table there. There was another awkward hiatus, before the boy spoke again.

"David....I went to my room, and thought about things for a while. About....what you'd said, earlier."

"Yes?"

"I....I still want us....to be friends, David, I like you a lot. But....just friends. Will that be alright?"

"Oh, Xander, of course it will. I'd never do anything....try and push you anywhere you didn't want to go, I promise. I like you, too, very much, I'd be honoured if I could call you my friend."

The boy smiled, albeit a little more guardedly than many of his smiles of earlier in the day. "It....it's not that you're not....handsome, or anything. It's just....well, it would be a bit like....doing stuff with my uncle, or something. It....wouldn't seem right."

"Xander, you don't have to explain, really. You've said 'just friends', that's exactly what it will be. I hadn't thought of any more, in any case, honestly. Yes, I did find you attractive when I first saw you, I can't deny that, but it wasn't that I was scheming to....get my hands on you, or anything. I didn't expect you to speak to me - in fact, I wouldn't even have known you were English, if you hadn't spoken. At first glance, I thought you looked Scandinavian, because of the colour of your hair and eyes, you know, Norwegian, Swedish, something like that."

"Yeah, that's happened before - we went to Norway, a couple of years ago, and quite a few people spoke to me in Norwegian, in shops and places, thinking I was from there. I just had to say sorry, that I couldn't understand them."

The boy, as if suddenly reminded of something, pulled back his shirt cuff, and consulted a smart looking watch. "It's time to go, I think, David. Mummy said to give her another ten minutes, and then meet her downstairs. Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are." I made to get out of the chair.

"Just a second, before you get up, please, David." The boy stood, and made his way to my side. He looked at me, his head in his characteristic, slightly to the left posture, with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he leant down, and kissed me gently on the cheek.

"Thank you, David, thank you for understanding."

"No, thank you, Xander, for....well, for being you. And for not hating me."

The full-on smile, the one I'd already grown to love, reappeared on his face.

****

The following morning, I was back in my niche beside the pool. Dinner the previous evening had been very pleasant, in terms of both food and company, but otherwise uneventful. Julia and Xander had headed for their room at around 9:30, while I'd stayed on in the bar for another hour or so. I had laid awake for a short while, reflecting on the events of the day, but it hadn't been that long before sleep had overtaken me. Twenty minutes or so after I'd arrived at the pool, I saw Xander emerge from reception, scanning the pool area. I raised my hand, hoping, if not exactly expecting, that he was looking for me. He waved enthusiastically, and quickly headed my way.

"David, I need to ask you a big favour!"

"Anything I can do, I will, sunshine."

"What it is, Mummy's hired a car for the day, she's going up to Thessalonika to pick Alice up from the airport, and to pick Daddy up after his meeting. I don't want to go, it'll just be a load of boring sitting around and waiting, so I said to Mummy that I'd ask if I could stay with you instead. She said no at first, that I was just being a nuisance and disturbing your peaceful holiday, but I persuaded her, I promised I would only ask you once, and not be upset if you couldn't look after me. So....I'm asking. Can I stay here with you, please?"

"If you're sure you can put up with me all day, and if....you think you can trust me, then I don't see any problem."

Xander clapped his hands in delight. "Brilliant! Can you come and see Mummy, then, and tell her, please? She's in the coffee shop, waiting for the hire people to deliver the car."

"Good morning, Julia," I said as I approached her table.

"Good morning, David. Well, by the look on my little tyke's face, I guess you've agreed. Are you sure, David? Seriously, I mean, we really don't want to be an imposition, to upset any plans you've made, do we, Xander?" She looked at her son meaningfully, as he shook his head, slowly.

"It really is no problem at all, Julia, I assure you. My plans don't stretch very far beyond the pool. I'll be glad of the company. I was, perhaps, thinking of going across on the ferry to the village at lunchtime, but that was it." The hotel ran a ferry service, merely a couple of motor boats, across the bay to the local small town/large village, where there were a few shops and tavernas. "I can easily take Xander with me, if that's OK with you."

"Would you like that, Xander?" Julia asked. The boy nodded emphatically. "Of course, David, that will be fine. I'm hoping that we'll be back in good time for dinner, Alice has called, her flight was expected to leave on time, and Harry should be finished at the university by 4:00, so we should be back here by 6:00, 6:30 at the latest. If you could chivvy Xander into the shower at about the same time as yesterday, I'd be grateful."

"I don't need to be chivvied, Mummy, I don't mind having showers!"

"Well, I just don't want us to be late for dinner. Alice will have had a long day, she won't want to be up until all hours, and I'm sure Daddy will be ready to eat, too, by the time we get back. Ah, good, that's the car people, I think."

Fifteen minutes later, with the paperwork and the demonstration of the car's controls completed, Julia was ready to get under way.

"Xander, you be on your best behaviour, please. And David, please don't hesitate to tell me later if he's been on less than that best."

"I'm not anticipating any problems, Julia, I'm sure everything will be fine. Have a good day, and drive carefully."

"I'll certainly be taking my time - the Greeks aren't quite as insane behind the wheel as the Italians, but there isn't much in it!" She turned once more to her son. "See you later, sweetie, you have a good day, and do as David asks you, please."

"I will, Mummy. See you tonight!"

Xander and I waved her off from the front of the hotel, as she gingerly eased the unfamiliar left-hand drive car out onto what was little more than a country lane.

"Best of luck to your mum, I say! The roads do get a bit straighter and wider after a few miles, but this first bit, with all its twists and turns, looks like it was designed by a squadron of mad caterpillars!"

The boy laughed out loud. "Mad caterpillars, that's funny! 'Attack of the Mad Caterpillars', that could be your next story!" Xander looked at me, innocently enough. "What sort of stories do you write, David? Could I read one, sometime?"

"I....um....that could be a bit of a problem, Xander."

"Why?"

"Well....they're....aimed at adults, shall we say."

The boy looked nonplussed for a moment, then smiled slyly. "You mean they're about sexy stuff, don't you?"

"A bit....more than just sexy, really. A lot of people would call them pretty disgusting. Some people like them, though, I get a few e-mails every now and again."

"What, are they online, or something?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I'm not nearly good enough a writer to have a proper book published, even if I could find a publisher who would take my work in the first place."

"Do....do they have....boys in them?"

"Usually, I suppose. Well, nearly always, really."

"Are you going to write a story about me, sometime?"

"No, I don't think so. I usually just imagine my characters, rather than basing them too much on real people. You're my friend, anyway, I wouldn't put you in a story doing anything you wouldn't want to do in real life, that wouldn't be very kind, I don't think. Sort of abusing you, in an indirect way."

"Maybe you could make it a different kind of story, not a sexy one, I mean."

"Why, would you like to be a character in a story?"

"Maybe." Xander looked at me a little sideways, a hint of mystery in his eyes. "You could write me one as my birthday present, I'm 12 in September. Make it one Mummy and Daddy could read, though."

"You're on - it will be a bit of a challenge for me to write something different, for once. There won't be any mad caterpillars in it, though! Anyway, what do you want to do now?"

"Can I swim for a while, please, and then we can go for a ride on the little ferry, like you said."

"That's fine. Are you going to your room to change?"

"Yeah, I'll get all the stuff I need. The sunblock is upstairs too, I'll make sure I put plenty on."

"Good man! I'll see you by the pool in a few, then."

By the time Xander had swum and splashed in the pool for an hour or so, I already had the germ of an idea for his 'birthday story', about a boy - called Alexandros, of course - in ancient Macedonia who saved his village from a band of outlaws by spotting them while he was out herding sheep, and alerting his tribal chief to the danger, just in time. A little bit of research should make it reasonably authentic, I thought, and it would certainly be something his parents could share, although his father's detailed academic knowledge of the area and period would probably be able to pick holes in my work, if he so wished. The boy swam my way at that moment, and called over to me.

"What time is it, David?"

"Just after midday. Are you getting hungry yet?"

"A bit. By the time I've showered the chlorine off, and got changed, and we've caught the ferry, I think I'll be ready for lunch."

"OK, let's go for it, then. I'm going to have a quick shower myself, come up to my room when you're ready, if you like."

Xander saluted smartly. "Yes, captain!"

He tapped on my door twenty minutes later, just as I'd finished dressing in a polo shirt and lightweight trousers. The boy was sporting the same tee shirt, shorts and sandals as he had 24 hours earlier. I shivered a little as I remembered the circumstances of his changing poolside the day before.

"Did you top up your sunblock, Xander?"

"Oh, poo, no, I forgot! Can I use some of yours, please?"

"Course! I'll get it for you."

I retrieved the bottle from the bathroom cabinet, and held it out towards the boy.

"Can you do it, David, it'll be quicker, and I don't want to make a mess in your room, either."

"Are you sure?"

The boy smiled slightly. "It'll be fine - and I guess you might enjoy it, too!"

I smiled crookedly in return. "You know me too well already, don't you? Come and sit on the balcony, then, and we'll get the job done."

Xander chuckled, and made his way to the place I'd suggested. I knelt in front of him, and as quickly and 'clinically' as I could, applied the lotion to his arms and legs, before standing to spread a little on his face and the back of his neck. Even those brief moments of contact with his silky skin, though, had their effect, not easily hidden given the thin material of my trousers. Xander noticed, and giggled.

"We'll have to wait a minute before we go out, won't we, David?" he smirked.

I tweaked his nose affectionately. "Yes, Xander, I think you might be right! I need to wash this gunk off of my hands, anyway. I won't be long."

Fortunately, it didn't take long for my 'problem' to abate, and, ten minutes later, we were heading out across the calm waters of the bay. Our destination, the village a mile or so from the hotel, was little more than a main street and a little square, with two or three bars, a handful of shops, and a couple of tavernas. We picked one more or less at random, but it proved to be a good choice, because the local food was excellent - we shared souvlaki, big chunks of pork with peppers and tomatoes grilled on skewers, a huge garlic flatbread, and salad. Xander set about all of it with relish, not in the least put off by the slightly unfamiliar cuisine.

"Wow," he said, as the last of the plates were taken away by the waiter, "I'm full now! I don't think I'll be going swimming again this afternoon!"

"No, all I feel like doing is going back to the hotel and having a siesta!"

"Do they have siestas in Greece, I thought that was in Spain?"

"They probably have some local equivalent, most Mediterranean countries do, because it's usually too hot to do much work in the middle of the afternoon, in the summer, at least."

"OK, a Greek siesta sounds good to me. David?"

"Yes, sunshine."

"Would....would you mind if I had a rest in your room, I don't really want to be in our room on my own." My hesitancy was obvious to the boy, and he felt he needed to elaborate. "I mean, like I said, I don't want to....to do....stuff, but I wouldn't mind....snuggling up next to you, if....if you....wanted to."

"That....that sounds....nice, as long as you're happy to do that."

Xander smiled gently, almost to himself. "Yeah, that would be nice. I love it when Robert and I snuggle, when we have sleepovers, and stuff."

And that, indeed, was how we spent almost two hours of that Wednesday afternoon. We laid on top of my bed, me on my back, Xander on his side, curled up against me. I even managed to sleep, a little, although I spent far more time watching his beautiful face while he slept. Eventually, his eyes opened, slowly, and he smiled, albeit rather dazedly.

"OK, Xander?"

"Yeah, I feel really good. Did I snore?"

"Not that I heard, but I was asleep some of the time myself."

As he had the previous day, he reached over towards me, and gave me a little peck on the cheek, as chaste as could be, pure affection.

"Thank you for today, David. You've saved me from hours in the back of a car with the dreaded Alice! It would've been torture!"

I laughed, and ruffled his hair. "We aim to please! Do you want to go downstairs and get a drink, before we have to start getting ready for dinner?"

"Yes, please, that would be nice." He paused, and blushed a little. "Not as nice as snuggling with you, though."

"Awww, Xander, you're going to make me cry in a minute, if you keep being so lovely to me."

"I'd better start being horrible, then! Come on, get your bum out of bed and buy me a drink!"

"Yessir, right away, sir!" We both giggled, him like the boy he was, and me like the lost boy that was still there somewhere, buried deep inside.

****

As the family, plus Julia's friend, were all together again that evening, I ate on my own in the casual surroundings of the pool bar, rather than the more formal restaurant. I wasn't really all that hungry, in any case, after our large lunch, and settled for a grilled chicken portion, and some salad, washed down with a couple of bottles of the local beer. There was obviously entertainment of some sort on the agenda for that evening, because microphones and speakers were being set up and tested by the hotel staff in a 'stage' area on the opposite side of the reception doors from where I was sitting. I wasn't, in all honesty, really in the mood for what I was expecting to be some tacky pastiche thrown together for tourists who knew no better, but, just as I was thinking of heading to my room, and maybe reading or writing a little, Xander appeared from the main building, accompanied by a tall, middle-aged man, his brown hair just tinged with a few strands of grey. He appeared to be somewhat older than me, a slight surprise, if he was, as I suspected, Xander's father, because that put his age perhaps a decade beyond Julia's. Xander spotted me, and made a beeline in my direction.

"Hi, David, this is my dad, he'd like to meet you."

I stood, and exchanged a firm handshake with the man.

"Harry Bellingham, you must be the person my offspring doesn't seem to be able to stop talking about! You certainly seem to have made an impression!"

"David Parrish. I don't know whether I should be flattered, or worried! I hope you've left out all the bad bits, Xander!"

"No, I've told Daddy how horrible you are to me all the time!" Xander laughed.

"Thanks! I'd better buy your dad a drink, then, before he has me clapped in irons! What can I get you, Harry?"

"One of those cold beers wouldn't come amiss, thank you."

"No problem. What about you, Xander?"

"Yeah, I'll have a beer, too!"

"You will not, young man! Try again!" Harry said.

"Spoilsport! Can I have a Diet Coke, please, David?"

"Certainly! Back in a mo."

In the event, Xander did manage to sneak a few sips from his father's beer bottle, as we sat together and chatted. Harry seemed to be very laid-back and easy-going, something of a contrast to his rather more highly strung wife, opposites attracting, I guessed, and I quickly found myself warming to the man. Xander seemed to be rather more at ease with Harry around, too, as against the slightly defensive air he often seemed to display in his mother's company. As if on cue, Julia appeared, together with a small, slightly over made-up woman with short, dark hair.

"Hello, gentlemen," Julia said. "David, this is my friend, Alice Sneddon. Alice, David Parrish."

We shook hands briefly. "I feel I know you already, David, the way Xander's been talking non-stop about you," Alice said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the boy's brows heading skyward in exasperation, and couldn't help but smile. Alice evidently decided the smile was aimed at her, and returned it in kind. "Julia tells me you're here on your own, David, and Xander's sort of 'adopted' you as an honorary uncle."

"I don't know about 'uncle', he makes me feel more like his twin brother. I often say I feel about 13 in my head, even if my body doesn't usually agree! I saw a joke online recently, along the lines that nine out of ten adults think that growing up is overrated, and that certainly resonates with me. I'm enjoying spending a day or two as a young boy!"

Just then, music, in the local style, began playing to our right.

"Oh, bouzoukis in the night, how romantic," Alice gushed.

"They seem to have some sort of Greek night planned," Julia observed, "there's going to be some traditional music and dancing, apparently."

"Can I offer you a drink, ladies?" I asked.

"Thank you, David - a chardonnay for me, please," Julia replied.

"When in Rome - or Greece! - could I try a retsina, please?" Alice said, with a completely superfluous schoolgirlish giggle.

Contrary to my earlier expectations, the show was actually quite acceptable, the performers certainly not lacking in talent, and, of course, I would always rather be where Xander was than not. After a couple more rounds of drinks, Harry and I alternating as provider, the time had ticked around to almost 10:00, and the boy was starting to wilt, visibly.

"Come along, sweetie," Julia told him, "you're nearly falling asleep there, and we've got to be up early for the trip tomorrow. Say goodnight to everyone, and we'll head upstairs." Just for a second, Xander looked as though he might put up a fight, and ask to stay longer, but I think he suddenly realised how tired he actually was, and meekly did as his mother had bidden. He pecked my cheek once more, and, for the first time, I returned his kiss in kind, albeit very briefly.

"Goodnight, David, see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Xander, sleep well, sunshine."

As the boy and his mother headed back into the hotel, Alice cooed.

"Isn't he just the cutest boy you've ever seen! I've seen him grow up, David, right from a baby. He's going to break some girl's heart before too long."

Don't put your mortgage on it, I thought, and, as I glanced across at Harry, I had the feeling that he was thinking something along the same lines.

"I'm going to turn in myself, I think, once I've finished this drink," Harry said. "It's been a busy couple of days, and, as Julia said, we've got the excursion to Pella tomorrow. I believe Xander dragooned you into coming along, David."

"Hardly under protest, I assure you, Harry. I am very interested in Alexander the Great, not, of course, in an academic way like yourself, but he's certainly a fascinating figure. Oddly enough, I first really got interested, not through formal history, as such, but through Mary Renault's novels."

"There's a lot of fiction, and not much history in those, I'm afraid, especially in the first book - in reality, very, very little is known about Alexander's boyhood and youth. They are entertaining yarns, though, there's no doubt about that. Anyway, can I get you two another drink before I disappear?"

A few minutes later, I was left alone with, as Xander had described her, 'the dreaded Alice'. The alcohol had taken its effect on her, to a considerable extent, as she rambled on about the young Xander and his doings, years earlier.

The drink Harry had bought her vanished very rapidly, and she tottered off to the bar for another - I declined her offer of another for myself.

When she returned, the direction of her conversation changed, and, within minutes, it became obvious that she was coming on to me. Alcohol, and the sense of being on holiday and free of ordinary convention, had loosened her tongue. I could barely imagine anything that I wanted less than to end up in bed with this woman, that knowledge leaving me squirming inside, although I was, I hoped, superficially still under control.

"What's the matter with you? Short of writing you a note, I don't see how I could make it any more obvious."

My mental turmoil seemed to make me incapable of rising above the level of the stereotypical village idiot.

"What? What's obvious?"

"I want you, can't you understand! There, I've spelt it out, what more do you want?"

Faced with the bald statement, I somehow found myself able to rake my wits together.

"I can't."

"What! Why not?" She seemed incredulous, it would've been funny if it hadn't been so painful from my perspective.

"There....there's someone else."

Her mental cogs, or what was left of them in the wake of all that retsina, clanked into action.

"What - here, now? Come on, you're on holiday, just like I am, chill out a bit."

"Yes, here, now, right here in Greece. I'm sorry if you think I've led you on, but I just can't. Please believe me."

"Who is it? I'll scratch her eyes out!"

'Her'. So conventional, but at least I had the reassurance that my disguise was reasonably intact.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. So please don't ask, because I'm not going to say."

Her patience ran out, abruptly.

"Fuck you, I'll find someone with more taste. Thanks for nothing!"

She got up, and stormed off towards the bar again. I took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat, finding myself in my room less than two minutes later. I sat on the bed, literally shaking. Not because I was afraid of Alice, and her drunken advances, but because I'd really meant what I'd said, about there being someone else, someone who was well on the way to capturing my heart. And it was an 11 year old boy.

****

After a rather fitful night's sleep, I woke the next morning to get ready for the excursion feeling somewhat less than my best. After I'd showered, and had a light breakfast, I was beginning to feel a little more human, though, so that by the time I made my way into reception just before 9:00, the scheduled coach pick-up time, I was ready to set about the day. My spirits were lifted still further when, just moments later, Xander bounced into view, a small backpack across his shoulders, and rushed straight to my side.

"Hi, David! I'm really looking forward to this trip, it's going to be fun! I've brought a couple of games for the coach, in case we get bored."

"Good morning, sunshine! I've brought the backgammon, too, but I hope there will be plenty to see en route, and, talking to you, I very much doubt if I'll get bored, anyway!"

The boy beamed, and I returned his smile with interest. Julia and Harry made a more sedate entrance to reception, and I greeted them warmly.

"Are you still sure about Xander sitting with you, David?" Julia asked, "or has the past couple of days brought you to your senses!"

I laughed, more out of politeness than because of there being any great humour in what she'd said.

"I'm very much looking forward to his company, Julia. As I said last night, I'm rather enjoying my temporary return to boyhood!"

Just then, Xander muttered ironically, more or less under his breath. "Oh, great!"

I looked up, to see Alice walking slowly towards us. She was looking tired and hung over, as she cast a brief, contemptuous glance in my direction, before turning her attention to Harry and Julia.

"I hope this trip is as fascinating as you suggested, Harry, I could have slept until lunchtime."

"It will take at least a couple of hours to get to Pella," Harry replied, "I'm sure you can top up your beauty sleep on the coach!"

"If it's going to take that long to get there, I'd better powder my nose before the coach arrives."

Julia turned to Xander. "Do you need the toilet before we go, the coach probably won't be able to stop on the way."

It was obviously a direction rather than a question, and the boy got up from where he'd been sitting beside me, and headed towards the twin doors at the side of the room in the wake of the two women, leaving Harry and I alone together for a moment.

"I don't think you really hit it off with Alice last night, did you, David?"

"Frankly, no. She made a pass at me after you'd gone upstairs, and seemed thoroughly disgruntled when I politely turned her down."

"Oh dear! She's one of Julia's oldest friends, they've known each other since schooldays, but she can be rather heavy going at times. She's been divorced for a couple of years, maybe she's decided the single life doesn't suit her anymore. Don't worry, I'll try and subtly steer her away from you today, although, from the look she gave you just now, I doubt that it will be an issue."

"I don't want to argue with or offend anyone, Harry, but I'm really not at all interested in looking for a relationship at the moment, with Alice, or any other woman. I thoroughly enjoy my footloose lifestyle, as I was saying to Julia the other day, coming and going as I please. It would take someone quite beyond the ordinary to make me want to give that up."

I knew, of course, both that I was deliberately trying to mislead the man, and that there was a person, very close by, for whom I'd give up everything in a heartbeat, but Harry seemed to take what I'd said as an honest enough statement.

"I understand. I'm quite happy with my own lifestyle, and wouldn't want any radical changes. Ah, that looks like the coach, let's round up the troops!"

As it turned out, our hotel was the first pick-up point for the excursion, being the furthest south on the peninsula, so that the five of us, and one other couple, had free choice of seats on the coach. I was aware of Xander hanging back a little, allowing his parents and Alice to board the vehicle first. They made their way to the back seats, so the three of them could sit together. As the boy and I followed them down the aisle of the coach, Xander spoke as we were about halfway into the saloon.

"Let's sit here, David. If we sit on the left, the sea will be on that side, won't it?"

"Yes, you're right, I think we'll get the best views there."

We settled into our places, some ten rows further forward than the rest of our party. I glanced towards the others, and saw Harry shake his head slightly and smile. He certainly knew what his son was up to. As if in confirmation, Xander leaned towards me and whispered conspiratorially.

"With a bit of luck, we won't be able to hear Alice from here."

I grinned at him. "You rogue! Did you know she was coming?"

"Not until we got up this morning, Mummy rang her room, gave her an alarm call. I didn't think she'd make it, even then, she drank loads of that retsina stuff last night, didn't she?"

"She certainly wasn't holding back! And you were right, she hardly stopped talking, the whole time!"

Xander giggled. "We're out of her way for now, at least. I'd much rather talk to you than listen to her!"

"Flattery will get you anywhere! Oh, good, it looks like we're on our way!"

It proved to be a wonderful day. The trip was most interesting, the local guide entertaining and very well-informed - even Harry was impressed with the depth of her knowledge - the weather and the scenery were uniformly beautiful, and the inclusive lunch, at a roadside restaurant, very pleasant indeed. Best of all from my perspective, of course, was that I spent virtually the whole time with Xander. He really was such a bright and interesting boy to talk to, it was so easy to forget just how young he actually was. We were so self-absorbed, I hardly noticed the others, although I did catch one or two dark looks from Alice from time to time. I thought no more of it than that she was still angry with me over what had happened the previous evening. Little did I suspect what would happen next.

We got back to the hotel at around 5:30, and went our separate ways to relax for a while and get ready for dinner. Xander had asked if he could eat with me in the restaurant, but his mother had demurred.

"Xander, give David a little bit of space, please. And, apart from that, you've hardly spoken to Daddy and I all day, we would like the pleasure of your company as well!"

The boy had agreed, reluctantly, but not before telling me that he would see me at the pool bar later to play some more backgammon.

After a leisurely meal, I returned to my room to change into jeans and a tee shirt, collected the game the boy had wanted, and found a table at the bar. Xander and Harry appeared soon after, and we resumed our easy familiarity of the evening before.

"The guide certainly knew her stuff," Harry was saying. "I spoke to her for a while, it turns out she's actually a history graduate, studied under one of the chaps who was at the meeting in Thessalonika. She's a school teacher out of season, just does this tour guide work as a sideline."

"Yes, she was very interesting. The whole day was most enjoyable. What did you think of it all, Xander?"

"Yeah, it was really good. I still don't think I want to be a historian, though, I prefer science."

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, young man!" Harry chuckled.

"It is interesting, Daddy, it's just that I find science more interesting, that's all."

"Certainly more interesting than economics," I laughed. "That's a subject that could cure anyone's insomnia! And that's coming from an economist!"

At that moment, Xander let out a little, shapeless moan of frustration. I looked up, and wasn't at all surprised to see Julia and Alice approaching.

"Shall we play, David?" the boy asked.

"If you like." Harry made the ladies welcome, and went to the bar for drinks for them, while Xander and I pored over the backgammon board. The other three engaged in inconsequential chat for a few minutes, but then, seemingly apropos of nothing, the sky fell in.

"Really, Julia, how much longer are you going to allow that....thing to drool over your son?"

A shocked silence fell across the table at Alice's words. Xander looked at me, appalled.

"Whatever do you mean?" Julia replied, after a lengthy hiatus.

"Well, just look at him! If he had the word 'paedophile' tattooed on his forehead, it could hardly be more obvious. He's hardly taken his eyes off of the boy all day. Last night, he said he had 'someone' here in Greece. You'd have to be blind not to see who that 'someone' is."

"I really don't think you've got any reason to make such an accusation," Harry began, but the look on Julia's face suggested that she'd just experienced a 'road to Damascus' moment at her friend's words. The woman glared angrily at me.

"Is this true, David? What have you done to my son?"

Before I had the chance to speak, Xander leapt to my defence, almost shouting, his fury apparent in his voice.

"David hasn't done anything to me, apart from be my friend. He promised he would never do anything to me, and I believe him. David does like boys, but he's not a...." The boy looked like he was struggling to find the right word. "Not one of those horrible men that....hurt boys."

I closed my eyes, and stifled a groan. Oh, Xander, what have you done, I thought wretchedly.

"Oh, so you are a paedophile, then," Julia spat out. Again, Xander intervened before I could open my mouth.

"Whatever David is, I am too! I like boys as well, and if that makes me not the sort of son you want, then you'll have to trade me in for a new one! I love Robert, and I don't care who knows it! And I love David, too, and if you don't like it, that's just tough!"

"That's quite enough from you, young man. Go to the room, right now!" his mother shouted. The boy sprang to his feet and ran across the terrace, tears streaming down his face. "And you," she snarled at me, "if you ever so much as look at my son again, I'll call the police and have you locked up, as you richly deserve. You pervert!"

Julia stormed off in the wake of her son, while Alice made to follow. But not before dispensing a parting shot.

"The truth will out, won't it? Happy holiday, paedo!" she sneered.

Harry looked torn between slapping the woman, or punching me in the mouth, or both. In the event, he stood and left without a word, leaving me sitting there alone, the half-finished game of backgammon on the board in front of me, Xander's last roll of the dice still where he'd left it. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, inconsolably.

Hours later, well after midnight, I was still sitting by the pool, seemingly unable to drag myself away from the scene, watching the ripples the gentle breeze had raised on the surface of the water catching and shattering the reflections of the various lights around the terrace. The hotel was quiet, most of the rooms had fallen dark, one by one, the bar had closed some time earlier. A night porter approached me, speaking in heavily accented English.

"Is everything OK, sir?"

"Yes....yes, thank you. I've just been....thinking. I'll be making my way to bed shortly."

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight." What was good about it, though, I thought bitterly. Three days, three bloody days, I've lost him already. It was at that moment, really, when I fully understood what had happened, that, perhaps for the first time in my life, I was in love. With someone who was completely unattainable, in any conceivable circumstances. My eyes overflowed with tears once more.

****

For the next two days, I hardly left my room, spending the time instead writing the story I'd promised Xander for his birthday, ordering meals, on the rare occasions I had any desire to eat, through room service. By the Saturday evening, the story was finished, to my satisfaction, and I wrote the final fair copy out, in longhand on hotel notepaper, sealing it in an envelope, inscribed with a very short note.

'Dearest Xander, have a happy birthday, and a happy life. With love, D.'

My holiday was due to have lasted another week, but I simply couldn't face it any longer. I used the hotel's WiFi to access the internet, and book a flight back to London on the Sunday evening. I made my way down to reception on the Sunday morning, told them I'd been called back to the UK on urgent business, although the only sense of urgency I felt was to get away from anywhere that people were, and settled my bill. I took the envelope from my pocket, and handed it to the receptionist.

"I'd be very, very grateful if you could make sure this gets to Alexander Bellingham, he's staying here with his parents, in room 238, I believe. Can you try to give it to him personally, please, because if it goes to his parents, I suspect he won't receive it, and it's a birthday present for him."

"We'll certainly try, sir."

"Thank you very much indeed. Just one last favour, if I might ask, could you arrange a taxi for me to the airport, in an hour or so?"

"Of course, Mr Parrish. I hope your business is successfully concluded."

"Thank you again."

I sat in the coffee shop for a while, sipping half-heartedly at a cappuccino, and gazing at, without really seeing, the view across the terrace to the pool for the last time. There were a couple of fair-haired boys in the water, and I had little doubt that one or other of them was Xander, but, as far as I was concerned, he could have been on the moon, as inaccessible to me as he now was, so I chose not to focus on the scene.

The taxi duly arrived, I agreed a fare with the driver, and my luggage was loaded into the boot. As I settled myself into the back seat of the car, I looked back into the reception area, saw a boy being beckoned over to the desk, and handed an envelope. He looked at the inscription, before obviously breaking down in tears. The taxi pulled away from the building. I didn't look back.

****

There was never a doubt in my mind where I would go. I arrived at Gatwick at around 8:30 in the evening, caught the train back to Clapham Junction and then on to Vauxhall, threw my luggage haphazardly in the bedroom of my flat, went downstairs to the parking area, got in my car and drove straight to Cornwall. I finally arrived at the cottage at 3:00 in the morning, so exhausted, physically and mentally, that even my chaotic emotions couldn't keep me awake for more than mere seconds.

When I woke, the following mid-morning, the sun was shining, but when I compared this wan, almost apologetic sunlight with the saturated, dazzling Greek version that had overloaded my senses just a day earlier, my heart felt heavy in my chest. That was how my life felt, a pale shadow of what it could be, if only I could be with one special person. It will never, ever happen, though, I told myself, get used to the idea. You'll never see him again, you've just got to find a way of coming to terms with it.

And that was what I tried to do, over the days and weeks that followed. I did what I had done so often in the past, hid from the world and buried myself in my doings, in this case writing obsessively, spending hours and hours every day at my keyboard, finishing stories I'd had in draft for months, trying to embellish long-completed ones, writing new ones, but it all seemed completely hollow and pointless. Whatever I did, my thoughts were inexorably drawn back to the hotel pool, the pool that had seemed like a microcosm, akin to the inside of a glass paperweight, all that crystal clear Mediterranean light focused on the glittering blue, shifting and rippling incessantly, as though unable to find any kind of equilibrium. With the boy gone, though, the light had gone out. Now I sat in the study at my cottage, with the torturous knowledge that the heart had been ripped out of that blessed little world where he and I had lived, seemingly oblivious to all outside influences, for such a short time, but a time that had nonetheless erased all the certainties of my previous, far-off life. This new life of mine, a life where there was no Xander, struck me as being completely unbearable. What on earth was I going to do?

I received a few texts and e-mails from friends, asking what I was up to, but I didn't reply. Those who knew me were used to me disappearing for weeks or months on one or another of my trips, before catching up the next time I was in the UK, so no-one really noticed my absence overly. But then, one day towards the end of September, almost two months after my return to the cottage, a message appeared in the inbox of my 'pseudonymous' e-mail address, the one I used in connection with my online stories.

*David, is this you? If it is, please e-mail me at this address. XB.*

Against all my instincts, my heart suddenly felt as though it had sprouted wings. Xander, it must be Xander! He must have found my stories at one of the two sites where they were published, or even on my blog, and found the e-mail address along with them. I dashed off a reply, but sent it from my regular e-mail address, under my own name, in the hope that it would reassure him that he wasn't being spoofed. Later that evening, a reply arrived.

*Hello David. Why did you go without saying goodbye? Thank you for my story, it was beautiful, I'll treasure it forever. By the way, some of your stories on the net are pretty disgusting! Only joking! Love, XB.*

I wrote him a much longer e-mail, explaining about his mother threatening to have me arrested - I didn't want to try and drive a wedge between the boy and his parents, but it was the truth, after all - and telling him that I'd been at the cottage pretty much ever since. I told him I was delighted that he'd liked his story, and asked him how he'd worked out that 'lowsandhighs1970' was me. He soon replied, saying that he didn't know about what his mother had said, and that he now understood my reasons, and that he'd thought the stories were mine because 'the men always love the boys, and never do anything the boys don't want, and that sounded like you', and because more than a few of them were set in either London or Cornwall. He also explained that he knew I was roughly 40, so he guessed that the '1970' referred to when I was born, and that the 'high' was from Highgate, which was indeed the case.

I congratulated him on his Holmesian powers of deduction in my next e-mail, and we were soon exchanging messages daily, several times a day at weekends, when he had more time. Then, as suddenly and unexpectedly as the contact had begun, it stopped. I had little doubt what had happened - one or other of Xander's parents must have discovered that he was in touch with me, and had moved to bring it to an end. After the little oasis of delight that those couple of weeks had brought, I went back to feeling very isolated and sorry for myself. I began to think it was time to head off on another trip, given that autumn was now well advanced and winter not far away. Much as I loved the cottage, and Cornwall in general, some sunshine in my life was beginning to seem very desirable, and I began to explore the possibilities open to me. But then another completely unexpected turn of events came to pass.

****

It was 8:00 in the evening, and fully dark, when I heard the car pull up outside, and the vehicle's door being closed. There were four cottages in the little terrace, so I assumed that the visitor was for one of my neighbours. But then, startling me considerably, my own door knocker sounded. Who on earth could that be? I certainly wasn't expecting anyone - in fact, apart from my neighbours, and Xander, no-one knew for sure that I was here at all. I hesitated to answer, but then a second rap at the door roused me to action. There was little point in pretending I was out, I thought, my house lights being on, I'll go and see who it is. As I opened the door, though, it felt like all the blood had drained from my face, and I actually physically staggered. On the threshold was Harry Bellingham.

"Good evening, David. Might I come in?"

"Y...yes, of course." I showed the man into my small lounge. "Take a seat, please. Can I offer you a drink?"

"Well, I'm driving, of course, so would tea be possible?"

"Certainly."

A few minutes later, I placed a pot of tea and a few biscuits on the small table close to where Harry was sitting on the sofa.

"Thank you, David. Well, to save any awkward preliminaries, I'll tell you how I've come to be here. I found, a couple of weeks ago, that Xander had been in touch with you. He'd deleted most of your e-mails, but, one Saturday night, he fell asleep before turning his computer off, and a message that you'd sent him was on the screen when I went into his room to check on him. I asked him about it the next morning, and he said that it was him that had contacted you initially - I trust that's correct?" I nodded.

"He found my e-mail address online, I'm really not sure how." A half-truth, again - I'd never asked Xander which site, exactly, he'd read my stories on, although I did wonder how much stuff, and of what sort, he'd had to wade through to find me. "Once he'd got in touch, we just got back into - chatting, I suppose you'd call it. I had no intention of trying to see him face to face, though."

Harry nodded in his turn. "Xander told me, eventually, albeit rather reluctantly, that he thought you were in Cornwall - he's always been a truthful boy." I couldn't help but smile wryly, bringing a slight smile to Harry's face, as well. "Yes, David, I can imagine that you might have wished my son to be a little less truthful, but I'm sure you can appreciate that honesty isn't something that a parent would want to discourage. Anyway, I remembered Julia having said that her parents were friends of your family, and I wondered if they might know where your cottage was. So I called my father-in-law, and it transpired that they'd stayed here with your parents on a couple of occasions, and knew the address. I've been in Exeter this week, giving a series of lectures at the university, so I thought it a good opportunity to call on you."

"Thank you for that explanation, Harry, but it still leaves me wondering why you're actually here, unless it's to reiterate your wife's threats to have me locked up."

A look of what might have been frustration, even annoyance, passed across Harry's face, but when he spoke, it was in his usual calm, measured way.

"I'm here, David, for Xander. He....he's changed over the past three months. He's hardly spoken a word, in the sense of initiating a conversation, to Julia since that evening at the hotel - don't misunderstand me, he's always polite, says 'please' and 'thank you', answers when she speaks to him, but it's a very formal, almost cold, kind of politeness, not a filial thing at all. He speaks to me a little more, but not nearly as much as he did. And as for Alice, he absolutely refuses to even be in the same room as her. All in all, it's putting a great deal of strain on our family in general, and on Xander in particular, and I'd like to find some way of easing that tension. Xander....wants very much to see you again, David. When he said he loved you, I have no doubt that he genuinely meant it. But....you must understand our position, as his parents, our wanting to....protect him. As....as I've said, Xander is a truthful boy, and he's said to me, more than once, that nothing....physical happened between you, that he'd set the boundaries, and that you'd respected them. I....I'd like to hear....your side on this matter, though, if you wouldn't mind."

My immediate reaction was to think that if he didn't believe Xander, then why on earth should he believe me, but I decided to be placatory, and kept the thought to myself.

"It's very simple, Harry - what Xander told you was the exact truth. He was worried about his friend going to boarding school, worried that he'd be bullied, and I was trying to reassure him by recounting my experiences in the same sort of environment. The way the conversation went, he realised that I'd been....sexually active in my schooldays, and that I was still attracted to boys, to him in particular. He walked away, but the next time we spoke, later that evening, he told me that he still wanted us to be friends, but 'just friends', as he put it. So, in that sense, he did set the boundaries, and I had, and have, no intention of breaching them. That said, though, I have my own boundaries as well, and even if Xander had actively solicited sex with me, it still wouldn't have happened. I haven't had any sexual contact with boys since before I left school, since I was 17, to be exact - in fact, apart from one very unsatisfying, in every sense of the word, night with a woman about fifteen years ago, I haven't had sexual contact with anyone since then. I came to realise that, given society's attitude towards what I am and what I want, even a consensual relationship, should it come to light, would have too many negative consequences, obviously for me, in terms of the probable legal sanctions, but also for any boy involved, in terms of the upheaval in his life that would undoubtedly ensue, that there was never any scenario where the possible 'advantages' would outweigh the much likelier 'disadvantages'. So I've chosen celibacy, effectively. My outlet is in the fiction I write. I live my sex life vicariously, as it were, through the actions of my characters, and given that they're fictional, albeit informed by my own experiences as a boy and as a youth, no-one gets hurt. And that's the most important thing for me."

For the first time since I'd met him, Harry seemed genuinely nonplussed. I don't know what he'd been expecting me to say, but what I had said certainly didn't seem to have been on his radar. In the absence of a response, I continued.

"Whatever else, Harry, it seems to me that Xander's wanting to see me, or not, is rather academic. I can't envisage any circumstances under which Julia would agree to it, and that's leaving aside what you yourself might think. Of course, I would be absolutely thrilled to see him again, but I'm really not expecting it to be feasible."

Harry seemed finally to have arranged his thoughts into some kind of order.

"David....thank you, first of all, for your frankness. You seem to me to have made a very brave, and self-sacrificing decision in regard to your sexuality, and I greatly respect you for it. What you've said is so far from the stereotype of....those attracted to younger people, and I have to admit that I, personally, have rather 'bought into' those stereotypes. You are inclined to forget that there are individuals behind the superficiality of the headlines, I'm afraid, and that those individuals are part of a continuum, from the outrightly predatory and abusive, to those who wish no harm to anyone, and live their lives accordingly. That's a general point, though, and I hope you won't mind my admitting that my particular concern is for my son. David, I'd just like to ask you one more question." There was a loaded pause. "Do....do you love Xander?"

Time seemed to have slowed to a barely perceptible crawl. I knew the answer to Harry's question, of course, but what I couldn't gauge was what his reaction to the truth would be. There seemed to be little to be gained by prevarication, though, so the truth was what he got.

"Yes, Harry, I love him very much. I think it's fair to say that it's the first time I've ever fallen in love in my whole life, but love, yes, that's what it is. And although I have to admit that it was the superficial that first drew my attention to him - I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what an astonishingly attractive boy he is - what has really won my heart is what's beneath that skin-deep beauty. He is, without question in my mind, one of the most interesting, intelligent and just genuinely nice people I've ever met. OK, maybe if he had been an 'ugly duckling', I wouldn't have made the effort to seek his other qualities out, that's human nature, and in the nature of my sexuality, I suppose, but, ultimately, it's who Xander is, rather than what he looks like, that I've fallen for."

Harry was once again silent for long moments, before replying almost hesitantly.

"I....I appreciate your....honesty, David. And I'm sure your feelings are....genuine." He seemed to regroup, and continued, more decisively. "I'm going to go back, and speak to Xander, and try to speak to Julia, too, about what you've told me this evening. I would be grateful if you didn't contact Xander in the meantime, please, but I assure you that I will be in touch with you, in the next few days, hopefully with a way we can progress. Could I take your mobile number, I already have your e-mail address, of course."

I gave him the information he'd asked for, and assured him I would respect his wishes regarding my contacting Xander. He finished his tea, and made his excuses.

"I really must go, David, I have my last lecture to give first thing in the morning, and, as you know, it's going to take me a good hour to get back to Exeter from here. Once again, thank you for being so open, and thank you for your hospitality. I'm sure you weren't expecting me to appear on your doorstep tonight. Whatever happens, I will call you, as soon as I can. Goodnight, David," he added, as I saw him to the door.

"Goodnight, Harry." I couldn't help feeling I'd given a lot, with no guarantee of anything in return, but at least, I thought, there was, just maybe, a faint hope of my seeing the boy again, something I'd thought impossible before. I'd just have to wait and see what transpired.

****

Harry's unexpected intervention reminded me that, as deeply as I'd buried myself in the seclusion of Cornwall and my writing there, I hadn't even unpacked my luggage when I'd arrived back in my London flat after my precipitate departure from Greece, and thought it more than time to at least pay a brief visit to 'town' to remedy that situation. So, the following morning, I drove to my local station, a few miles from the cottage, and caught the train up to Paddington. Needless to say, not only my luggage, but the flat as a whole needed a good deal of attention, so I decided to stay overnight. It was a Friday, and I was just considering which of my friends might be available for an impromptu evening out, when my phone rang. It proved to be Harry.

"David, I might have some news that you will find....welcome. I did manage to persuade Julia to listen to what you'd told me, and while she doesn't want to see you herself, she has agreed to the possibility of your meeting up with Xander, as long as I'm there as chaperone. We haven't said anything to the boy as yet, because I wanted to know whether you would want to be party to such a meeting first. What are your thoughts?"

"Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, Harry. As I told you when you came to the cottage, I'd be delighted to see him again, and I'll comply with whatever conditions you see fit to facilitate that. I can assure you that this wasn't contrived at all, but I'm actually in town. I hadn't been to the flat since the day I flew back from Greece, so I decided it was high time I came up to do some cleaning and airing, before the place became too antisocial. I'm free whenever you are, frankly."

"How about lunch tomorrow, then? There's a very good dining pub just a few minutes walk from where we live, Xander enjoys it there, would that suit you?"

Silly question, I would've crawled on my hands and knees to John O' Groats if that's what the man had asked of me! We agreed a time, and he gave me directions to the pub.

"I won't say anything to Xander about your being there, David - I think it might be a nice surprise for him just to find you, as it were! I'll book a table, and text you the details a little later."

I was so elated, I hardly knew where to put myself. I knew a little of the area where they lived, in the southeastern corner of Greater London that used to be part of Kent, enough to know that it was almost as upmarket as the area where I'd grown up. Harry duly sent me the information about the table he'd booked, and the confirmed time. Rather than go out that evening, I simply walked the half mile or so to the local supermarket, bought myself the makings of a nice meal and a pleasant bottle of wine, and returned to the flat, trying my best to relax.

Predictably enough, I'd had a good deal of trouble in getting to sleep on the Friday night, and slept rather later into Saturday morning than I'd intended as a result. I felt a momentary panic that I would be late, but after consulting the TfL journey planner, I realised there was a simple train journey I could take that would get me to my destination in ample time.

So it was that I arrived at the pub shortly after midday on that Saturday lunchtime, made myself known as a member of Mr Bellingham's party, and was shown to the requisite table, with a view out into the pub's attractive beer garden, albeit a garden that was unoccupied on what had proven to be a chilly autumnal day. I sat, sipping my pint for a few minutes, until I recognised Harry's voice.

"We've got Table 12, Xander, round the corner by the window, if I remember rightly. Go and sit yourself down, I'll get the drinks and let them know we're here."

Seconds later, the boy came into view - and stopped as abruptly as he might, had he walked into a brick wall. He simply stood there, looking stunned, and it was difficult to tell whether he was about to laugh or cry.

"Hello, Xander."

Gradually, the dazed look began to clear, and a huge grin lit up his lovely face.

"David, oh wow, David!"

"That's me! It's so wonderful to see you, Xander."

The boy glanced around briefly, and, seeing no-one immediately adjacent, scooted quickly across to my side, and kissed my cheek.

"It's brilliant to see you, too, David, I've really missed you! How....how did you get here, though?"

"I came on the train!" I said, eliciting musical giggles from Xander.

"You know what I mean, don't be daft!"

"Well, you know, obviously, that your Dad had found out that we were e-mailing, and that you'd told him I was in Cornwall." Xander nodded, looking a little rueful. "So, when he was in Exeter the other day, he came down to the cottage. I didn't realise, but apparently your grandparents had been there, and they remembered where it was. Your dad had the address from them. We talked, he told me that you'd said that you wanted to see me again, and I told your dad I very much wanted to see you, too, if it was possible. I didn't think it would be, though, because of what your mum had said at the hotel, but your dad spoke to her, and she's seemingly given her blessing, as long as your dad is around. So, here we are!"

Xander looked thoughtful. "I'm a bit surprised, too - about Mummy agreeing, I mean."

"Your dad mentioned that you and your mum haven't been on the best of terms lately. I really wouldn't want that, Xander, I wouldn't want you to argue, with either of your parents, because of me. Your mum was only doing what she thought was right, trying to protect you, I'm sure."

Just then, Harry appeared, carrying his own pint, and an orange juice for the boy.

"Amazing what you can find in pubs, eh, Xander," he deadpanned to his son.

Xander waited for a second or two for his father to put the drinks on the table, before wrapping the man up in a close hug.

"Thank you, Daddy, thank you so much! And I'll say thank you to Mummy, too, as soon as I see her, I promise."

The reunion was going along swimmingly, Xander talking nineteen to the dozen about his new school and other recent doings, a more than pleasant meal, good beer. Until I steered the conversation towards a new topic.

"How's Robert?" I asked the boy. "Has he settled in at boarding school, do you know?"

"Oh, I thought I'd told you in one of the e-mails - he didn't go in the end. I must've forgotten to mention it. No, he started having nightmares, and was really upset all the time, so his parents found him a place in a day school, not too far away, instead. It's been really good for him, because two of his cousins go there, one the same age, and one who's 15, so they've been helping to look after him. His cousin who's the same age goes to judo, and Robert's started doing that as well, he likes it. He's definitely getting better, better at meeting and talking to people, that is, he's still a bit shy, but not nearly as bad as he was. And, because he's still at home, I get to see him, of course, so it's great for me, too."

"So everything's going well, then?"

"Well, almost - he still gets upset quite easily. He got really upset when he was at our house a few weeks ago - but that was Alice's fault."

Why am I not surprised, I thought. "What happened?"

"We were in the conservatory playing backgammon - I've taught him, he's getting really good, he wins as many games as I do now - and Mummy and Alice were in the lounge talking. The conservatory door was open, so we could hear some of what they were saying. All of a sudden, Alice said, I don't think she knew we could hear her, or even knew that we were there at all, that Mummy shouldn't let 'two little queers' like us be alone together, there was no telling what disgusting things we'd get up to. It made Robert cry, because, like I said to you before, David, he doesn't want to do any stuff like that, so I wouldn't even ask him. I was so angry, I wanted to go and bash her teeth in! Mummy got really annoyed as well, and threw Alice out! I couldn't believe it! They were soon friends again, though, Alice rang her later that evening, I heard Mummy talking to her on the phone."

As I glanced at Harry, his face was like thunder. "That bloody woman!" he growled. "I'm sick to the back teeth of her! When did this happen, Xander, I hadn't heard anything about it until now."

"Oh, I thought Mummy would have told you. It was when you were away, not this last time when you were in Exeter, but the time before, when you went to....Birmingham, was it?"

"I'm not having it, the likes of her spouting such outrageous claptrap about my family and their friends, not under my own roof! If Alice can't keep a civil tongue in her head, I'll make it clear to her, and to your mother, that she won't be welcome any longer. Hospitality is all very well, but there are limits!"

"Maybe Julia's reaction will have taught her a lesson, already," I said.

"You would hope so, but, having known Alice for as long as I have, I'm not holding my breath in expectation. Well, David, I think that calls for another drink, to wash the nasty taste away!"

Once that controversial moment had passed, the congenial flavour of the afternoon returned. The only worry I had was that Xander and I were, once more, becoming too absorbed in each other, leaving Harry on the sidelines. As though he'd divined my thoughts, Harry spoke up, just as Xander finished his dessert.

"Well, I think I might take a slow wander back to the house. If you gentlemen want to catch me up a little later, that's fine by me."

"Are you sure, Harry - won't Julia....worry if you turn up without Xander?"

"She's gone off shopping with the aforementioned Alice - she won't be home until 6:00, at the earliest. You two seem to have rather a lot of catching up to do. I don't think you need me around for that."

Xander, in his usual percipient way, understood what his father was saying, between the lines. "Thank you, Daddy - we'll see you back at home in a little while. You know you've got nothing to worry about, don't you."

"I do indeed, young man." He turned to me. "Don't worry about the bill, David, that's all taken care of, apart from any extra drinks you might choose to have."

"Harry, you're too kind. I insist that it be my treat next time, though."

"Of course. See you later, guys."

Xander and I sat and talked for another hour and a half, before I decided to let discretion be the better part of valour, and ensure that the boy was at home well before the earliest estimate of his mother's return. It was just approaching 4:30 when we arrived at his front gate.

"Are you going to come in, David?"

"I'll say goodbye to your dad, but that's all. I don't want to risk your mum coming back early and finding me here, she might take it badly."

"David....can I come and see you in Cornwall sometime?"

"That, Xander, is entirely a decision for your parents. I would welcome you with open arms, of course, but whether it would ever happen - well, I really couldn't say."

He smiled, a little melancholically. "It's been so lovely to see you again, David. I never thought it would happen."

"No, I have to say I agree - I couldn't see any way of our possibly meeting up, even after you e-mailed me. But I'm so happy we've been able to. I....I mean, today has reminded me....that I....love you, Xander. Very much."

"Oh, David, I love you, too!" He smiled again, a little mysteriously, I thought. "Come round this way, you said you wanted to speak to Daddy."

He led me around the side of the house, through a little alleyway beside the garage, covered by a plastic roof. He stopped, and turned towards me, looked earnestly into my eyes, then reached up to put his arms around my neck, kissing me full on the lips. I gasped at the soft, delicious contact.

"Good?"

"Oh, Xander, if only you knew!"

"You might like another one, then!" And he did just that. Then added a third.

"Wow! You're a good kisser, David! Nearly as good as Robert!"

"And you're the sweetest, most delightful boy I've ever met in my life, Alexander Bellingham! We'd better stop, though, or it might be another half hour before I can face your dad."

Xander burst into peals of laughter at my suggestive remark. "Me, too!" he finally managed to splutter.

As we entered the house through the back door, the boy dissolved into another fit of giggles. Harry came through from the lounge.

"What's so funny?"

"Just a joke David told me, Daddy. It...it's....too rude for you, though!" Xander laughed once more.

"Oh, thanks, Xander, now your dad will think I've been corrupting you, and have me thrown to the lions!"

Harry chuckled. "I think we'd better draw a veil at that point, chaps!"

****

The immediate upshot of my reunion with Xander was that our e-mail contact resumed, with Harry's blessing, and Julia's tacit, at least, acquiescence. I did take a brief holiday, just a week in the Canary Islands at the beginning of November, to get my 'fix' of sunshine, but, for the most part, I spent my time at the cottage, prompting one of my neighbours to enquire as to whether I'd moved in permanently. Christmas was fast approaching, though, and I began to spend a few more days in London, to catch up with friends and socialise in the run-up to the festive season.

Xander knew I was at the flat, of course, and at the start of the second week of December, mentioned in one of his e-mails that he wanted to go Christmas shopping that weekend, wondering whether I'd like to join him in town on the Saturday morning. I asked him to get his dad to ring me, so we could discuss the matter.

Harry phoned. "Hello David. Xander has told me what he's got in mind, he's hoping his friend Robert will be able to come, too. I've talked to Julia about it, she seems to be fairly relaxed about the idea, and Robert's parents appear to be OK with it, as well. I'll get back to you before Friday, and firm up some details."

In the event, we agreed to meet at Charing Cross at 10:00 on the Saturday, Harry telling me that he would bring the boys up on the train, then go off to do some shopping of his own. I caught the bus to Trafalgar Square, and walked the few yards from there to the station, arriving with ten minutes or so to spare. The station was already busy, each train that arrived seeming to disgorge hundreds of eager shoppers - it was evidently going to be crowded in town, I thought. The train I was expecting them to be on had arrived, but I didn't see anything of my companions for the day, until Xander emerged from the crush, rushing up to me and putting his arms around me for a quick hug.

"David, you're here!" he said, releasing me from his sweet embrace all too soon. Where else, I thought, when the chance of seeing my boy was afoot. As I looked up, though, I instantly blanched. Standing just a couple of paces away, were not only Harry and another boy who I hadn't seen before, but guessed must be Robert, but Julia.

"Hello, David," the woman said.

"H....hello Julia, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you. Don't worry, David, I saw that it was Xander who hugged you. Have you got time for a coffee before we go our separate ways, I think we need to talk."

"Yes....yes, of course"

We crossed the Strand to the big coffee shop opposite the station, managing to find a table large enough to accommodate all five of us, despite the place being very busy. Xander effusively introduced me to Robert, his friend being a diminutive, fragile looking, dark-haired boy, who I wouldn't have guessed at being more than about nine years old, had I not known he was the same age, more or less, as Xander. Robert smiled shyly in my direction, but accepted my handshake without reluctance.

"Xander's told me....lots about you, David. It....it's nice to meet you."

"Yes, I've heard a good deal about you, too, Robert. I'm very pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

Once our drinks were on the table, Julia cut to the chase.

"David, I owe you an apology. I jumped to what seemed to me at the time to be the obvious conclusion when we were out in Greece, but I know now that I was wrong. I hope you can forgive me, and understand that my major concern was for Xander, and his welfare."

"Julia, I need to apologise just as much. I didn't lie to you, but I did select the parts of the truth I expected would be....uncontroversial, shall we say. I can fully understand why you reacted in the way that you did. I'm not sure I could forgive....your friend for her....intervention, though."

"Yes, well, she's been read the Riot Act, after what she said at our house - I believe Xander told you about that, when you were at lunch a few weeks back." I nodded. "Harry and I love Xander, unconditionally, whoever he is, and whatever lifestyle he chooses to pursue, and I simply won't have, any more than Harry, anyone sneering at him, or his friends, even if that person is my best friend."

"That's a very commendable, caring attitude to take towards your son, Julia, if I might say so."

The woman considered me thoughtfully, much as she had on that first morning in Greece, when I'd offered to take Xander to lunch.

"David....from what Harry has told me about your....discussions, and what, in recent weeks, Xander himself has told me, now that we're....on proper speaking terms again." The boy lowered his eyes, and blushed. "From what's been said, I do feel I can trust you, David. I'm sure you won't disappoint me."

"Thank you, Julia. You can rest assured that you, and, more to the point, Xander, have absolutely nothing to fear from me."

The boy looked my way, and smiled, lovingly, before turning to his mother.

"Does that mean I can go to Cornwall, Mummy!"

"Let's not run before we can walk, Xander," Harry intervened. "That's a matter for discussion another day, OK?"

The boy grinned sheepishly. "OK, Daddy!"

****

The boys and I struggled our way through the rivers of humanity thronging Central London for several hours, but did manage to get the shopping we had in mind completed eventually. Robert said little for the first hour or so, but seemed to relax after a while, perhaps picking up on my poorly disguised boyish side, as Xander and I bantered as freely as ever. As he came more into the conversation, it was evident that here was another very bright young man, easily able to hold his own on that front with his more ebullient friend. Xander asked Robert if he minded staying with me for a few minutes while we were in Hamley's, because he wanted to get his friend's Christmas present, and didn't want to spoil the surprise. Robert agreed without demur, slightly to my surprise, and I certainly had no problem with his company, so Xander happily went off on his mission.

"David....Xander said that he's told you....about us," the boy said quietly. "And he's told me that he....loves you, too, but in a different way. I don't mind....sharing Xander with you, really I don't."

"Oh, Robert, that's so kind of you. I wish I'd found someone like you when I was your age, I can see why Xander thinks so much of you, you're such a lovely guy."

"Xander....and I....want to get married, when we're older, David. Do you think we'll be able to?"

"By the time you're old enough, Robert, I'd be very, very surprised, and almost equally disappointed, if that isn't an option open to you, if that's what you both decide is what you want to do. And I have no doubt that you'd make a wonderful couple."

The boy looked up at me, as serious as anyone of his age could look, it seemed to me.

"David, if we do....get married, I mean....would....would you be our....best man, please?"

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "Robert, I couldn't be more honoured than to be asked. Of course, if that's what happens, and if that's what you and Xander want, of course I will."

"Thank you, David. I hope....you find someone special for yourself, too."

"That's very kind of you, Robert, very kind indeed. I'm not really expecting that, or even looking, to be honest, but you never know what surprises life might have up its sleeve."

Not that I had any expectation of meeting anyone more special than Xander, if I lived to be 100, I thought, but that was another story. Just then, the boy himself reappeared, with a large bag in his hand.

"You're not allowed to peek, Robert! I hope you'll like it, though."

"I won't look, if you don't try and peek at your present, either! I....I've....asked David, Xander."

Xander smiled, knowingly. "I bet he said yes!"

"What else would I say, sunshine?" I replied on Robert's behalf.

Xander leaned into my side, and kissed my cheek.

"Love you!" he whispered.

"Love you, too," I replied with a smile.

****

Harry and Julia invited me to spend Christmas Day with them, but when I discovered that Alice was likely to be there, at least for part of the day, with her newly acquired boyfriend, I politely declined, with their, and Xander's, complete understanding. I'd already booked a place for Christmas dinner at the well-known and very popular pub in my village in Cornwall, and spent a very congenial afternoon of complete over-indulgence there instead. Before I'd left for the long journey back to the cottage, the boy had handed me, with great ceremony, a small, neatly wrapped present.

"Don't you dare open it before Christmas Day," Xander had warned me with mock portentousness. "You'll turn into a pumpkin if you do!"

When I got back to the cottage, as dusk was falling, feeling hardly able to move after all that delightful food and drink, the little package was sitting on the mantelpiece, still guarding its secret. I unwrapped it carefully, to find a small jewellery case within. I opened it slowly, to reveal a thin gold chain. Xander's own gold chain, unless I was very much mistaken, the one he'd worn in Greece, and which I'd seen on one subsequent occasion, the day we'd been reunited at the pub near his home. I stood there, dumbly, looking for long moments at the delicate, flavid links glinting in the light. There was a little handwritten note folded into the lid of the box, in Xander's neat, if still boyish script, which confirmed my guess about the chain.

'Happy Christmas, dear David. I wanted you to have this, to remind you for always how much I love you, and that I know how much you love me. Forever, your X.'

My eyes overflowed with tears, my love for this wonderful boy had never been greater than at that moment. Xander had been given a new phone by his parents for Christmas, his first mobile, he'd texted me the compliments of the season using the device first thing that morning, and I'd replied in kind. After allowing a few minutes to compose myself a little, I rang his number.

"Hello David," he said excitedly as he answered his phone. "I hoped you'd ring. Have you had a good day?"

"I have had a good day. Until a few minutes ago, when I opened your present."

"Oh." He sounded thoroughly crestfallen, making me feel a little ashamed of teasing him. I continued, hastily.

"That's when it turned from a good day, into a fantastic day! What a wonderful present, Xander, I'm so grateful to you, it was a lovely thing for you to do."

"You rotten thing, you nearly made me cry, and I never cry - well, almost never! I thought you didn't like it!"

"You're right, I didn't like it - I loved it! Even though it made me cry! Did you like what I got you?"

"No, it was rubbish!" he sniggered. I'd bought, after consulting his parents, a smart ski jacket he'd been hankering after for a while. "Yes, of course I liked it, thank you so much, it's just what I wanted! How did you know?"

"I have my methods! But I'm not at liberty to divulge my sources!"

"Oh, so Mummy and Daddy told you, then!"

"My lips are sealed! I did some....research, that's all I'm willing to say! Have you seen Robert today?"

"No, he's coming round with his mum and dad for lunch tomorrow. I've spoken to him, though, he did like his present, and he bought me something really nice, too."

"Good, you'll have to show me when I next see you."

"When....when will that be, David?"

"Oh, before New Year, all being well, as long as it's OK with your parents. I'll stay here tomorrow, and maybe the day after, and then drive back up. It's going to take me two days to get over the meal I've just had, I think, I feel like one of those pythons who's just swallowed a whole deer in one gulp at the moment!"

"That'll teach you to be greedy!" Xander giggled. "Mind you, I feel about the same, Mummy cooked a big meal, too. It's a shame you didn't come, Alice's boyfriend took her for a surprise 'romantic Christmas' in Paris in the end, so it's just us, and Granny and Grandad here, nice and peaceful! Granny and Grandad say 'Merry Christmas', by the way."

"Thank them and wish them the same from me, please, Xander, and your parents, too, of course. Most of all, to you, though, sunshine, I hope you're having a wonderful Christmas, and that the rest of it goes just as well. Enjoy your time with Robert tomorrow, and I'll perhaps ring your dad the day after, and see if we can get together soon. Is that OK?"

"Yeah, I hope we can, Robert wants to see you again, as well, he had fun that day in London, he likes you."

"I like him, too, he's a lovely guy. I'm so happy for you, that you both have someone so nice to be with. You deserve it!"

"You deserve to have someone, too, David," the boy said, earnestly.

"Xander, I'm completely happy with things as they are, I never imagined, this time last year, that I'd ever have someone as special as you in my life, even as a friend. I couldn't wish for more at the moment, I really mean that."

"David, you're too nice to me. I love you, lots."

"And I love you just as much. You get on with enjoying your Christmas Day, and I'll speak to you again, very soon."

"OK. 'Bye, David."

"'Bye, Xander, my love."

****

"Xander wants to go and see the New Year's Eve fireworks up in town," Harry was saying, when I'd phoned him the day after Boxing Day, "but Julia's not keen, she's not a big fan of crowds. Were you thinking of going, at all?"

"I haven't got any specific plans for New Year, but I don't live very far from where the display is due to be held, as you know. It wouldn't be too difficult for me to get there."

"Well, I hope you won't find me presumptuous, but I did suggest to Julia that you might be willing to take Xander, and I know he would be thrilled to go with you. What do you think?"

"I think you know the answer to that question already, Harry!" The man chuckled. "More to the point, though, what does Julia think? It would be a pretty late night, I doubt I could get him back to you much before 2:00 in the morning, I'm sure the traffic after the display will be pretty horrendous."

"Again, tell me if I'm speaking out of turn, but wouldn't it just be easier for him to stay at your place overnight?"

I was almost speechless. "Are....are you serious, Harry? I mean, I'd be happy for him to stay, of course, but...." My voice tailed off.

"But you're worried about what we might think about your intentions?"

"Well....I suppose so....yes."

"David, if you were going to....force yourself on Xander, you've already had ample opportunity. If you'd made the suggestion, for him to stay with you, then maybe a doubt might have been raised in our minds, but, from the way you've just reacted, I have even less doubt about your trustworthiness than I did before, and I had very little to begin with. He wants to come and stay with you in Cornwall, as you know, look upon this as a 'test run', if you like. Do you want to think about things and let me know later?"

"My main....concern, I guess, is what Julia thinks. Would it be possible for me to speak to her?"

"Not at the moment, she's off at the sales. When are you going to be back in town?"

"Tomorrow, probably mid-afternoon, or thereabouts."

"Come down here for supper tomorrow evening, then, if that suits, and we can all have a chat about it."

"Xander, as well, if you don't mind - we're assuming that he'll jump at the chance, but he himself might find it a step too far. He knows his own mind, there's no doubt of that, so I'm sure his input will only help."

"Of course, but I don't think, in all honesty, that he'll suddenly have a fit of the vapours! My guess is that he'll have his bag packed and be ready to go within five minutes!"

I laughed. "We'll see! What time do you want me there tomorrow?"

"Oh, 7:00, 7:30, whatever suits you."

"Fine. I'll be driving up from Cornwall this time, so I can set my own timetable. I'll let you know, of course, if any unforeseen problems crop up, but, otherwise, I'll see you around 7:00 tomorrow."

****

I turned the corner into Xander's street shortly before 7:00. I'd travelled from the flat by train, as I had when I'd met Harry and Xander for lunch a couple of months earlier, and I was carrying a bag containing a couple of nice bottles of wine I'd picked up en route. I had something else, too, safely stowed in the inside pocket of my jacket, something I hoped would be well received. Reaching the house, I rang the doorbell, being slightly startled when the door opened within no more than a couple of seconds. Xander stood before me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello, David, come in!"

"You frightened me half to death, wrenching the door open like that! Anyone would think you'd been waiting for me!"

"Only for the last half hour! You're lucky, I was starting to lose interest! But not really!"

"It's lovely to see you, sunshine, as always. Where are your mum and dad, I've got a little something here for them."

"They're in the lounge, come through this way."

Greetings were exchanged, and the wine gratefully received by my hosts, before Harry and Julia excused themselves to go and make the preparations for the meal, leaving me alone with my boy.

"I've got something for you, too, Xander."

"You didn't need to, David, you've already bought me such a nice Christmas present."

"No, you're right, I didn't need to. But I wanted to." The boy smiled, lovingly. I reached into my pocket, and handed him a small, flat case. He opened it slowly, before his eyes grew wide with wonder.

"David, that's beautiful. Wait, there are two." He looked confused. "Two the same."

"One for you, and one to match for Robert."

"Oh, David! Oh, thank you, I love you so much!"

What was in that little box was a pair of platinum curb chains, of a length to be worn around the neck. They hadn't been cheap, but they weren't ridiculously expensive, either. They were certainly distinctive, though, and I'd thought they would look good on the boys. Julia came back into the room.

"Look, Mummy, look what David's bought for Robert and I!"

"David, you shouldn't have!"

"Well, you know what Xander gave me for Christmas, of course, I just wanted to find something nice to replace it. And when I saw they had a matching pair, I thought of Robert, too. I hope his parents won't mind." Julia looked again at the jewellery.

"That's not silver, is it?"

I shook my head. "No, platinum."

"Platinum! That must've cost a king's ransom! It's far more expensive than gold, surely?"

"Not that much, about the same as white gold, roughly. The price is immaterial, though. I spent far less than the money I saved by hiding out at the cottage for the summer and autumn, if it mattered, but, really, it doesn't. I bought them because I liked them, and because I hoped the boys would, too."

"David....I hardly know whether to hug you or slap you!"

"How about feeding me! That would be much appreciated!"

"You really are just a boy disguised in a man's body, aren't you? Don't worry, it won't be long!"

The meal, salmon steaks, roasted baby potatoes and salad, was light and simple, a welcome antidote to the overdose of meat and other rich food I'd indulged in over the festive season. After we'd finished eating, the conversation was nudged, subtly, by Harry in the direction of our discussion the day before.

"Julia, I told you what David and I were talking about on the phone yesterday, but he wanted to talk to you about it, too. He has a few....concerns, as I mentioned."

"David, it's really like Harry said - if we had any genuine worries about your....intentions, you wouldn't be sitting here now, I'm sure you can appreciate that. You've been honest with us, and with Xander. We have no reason to disbelieve you, and I see no reason why what you and Harry were discussing should be any sort of a problem." The boy looked slightly perturbed, as though he was being left out of a secret.

"What do you mean, Mummy?" he asked.

"Would you like to tell him, David?" the woman said. Xander looked in my direction, expectantly.

"You know where my flat is in London, Xander?" The boy nodded. "Well, it's only a little way down the road from where the New Year fireworks are going to be. Your dad said you wanted to go, but, because your mum wouldn't enjoy it too much, we wondered whether you might like to come with me. And then stay over at the flat afterwards."

Xander looked, for a moment or two, much like he had in the pub on that Saturday lunchtime when we'd been reunited, as though he couldn't believe what, in this case, he was hearing. When he realised he wasn't dreaming, though, he almost whooped his delight.

"Really! Oh, wow, that would be so brilliant! Can I, Mummy, Daddy, please, please?!"

"I think we can take that as a 'yes', then, David!" Harry chuckled.

****

At around 1:00 on New Year's morning, Xander and I let ourselves into my flat, our ears ringing from the effect of thousands of fireworks exploding overhead less than an hour earlier. The boy was almost beside himself with excitement, and certainly in no mood to head for his bed yet.

"David, that was about the most amazing thing I've ever seen! Or heard! I can't believe how loud it was!"

"They weren't holding much back, were they? Yes, it certainly was some display!"

I had a bottle of cava in the fridge - I preferred the Catalan take on the méthode champenoise to the genuine article - and thought a few sips might slow Xander down enough for him to be able to sleep at a vaguely reasonable hour.

"Would you like a little glass of fizzy stuff to see in the New Year, sunshine? Or would you like some orange juice in it, make it a Buck's Fizz?"

"What, have you got champagne?"

"Not quite, it's cava, similar, but made in Catalonia rather than in France."

He grinned. "Yeah, that would be nice - can I try it on its own first, before you put juice in it?"

"Sure. It's just in the kitchen, I'll be back in a sec."

I quickly returned with the bottle and a couple of glasses, pouring half a glass for Xander, and a full one for myself. The boy sipped at it gingerly, then giggled.

"The bubbles are going up my nose! It's quite nice, though, not as sweet as I was expecting, but still nice."

"You don't want the juice with it, then?"

"No, thanks, it's fine like this. Come and sit with me on the sofa, David, I want to snuggle." I moved from the armchair, and joined him, as he'd asked. He slid along next to me, his right hip pressing into my left, and I slipped an arm lightly across his shoulders. Xander seemed to stretch his body slightly, like a cat making itself comfortable, and when he spoke, the purr in his voice was evident.

"Mmmm, that's nice. David....can I....sleep with you tonight, please?"

With every ounce of willpower I possessed, I demurred. "No, Xander, I'm sorry, but I told your parents that you'd be sleeping in the bed, and I'd be sleeping on the sofa, and that's what is going to happen. It's not that I don't want to sleep with you, in an ideal world, nothing would be better for me than that, but there's a matter of trust involved. It's a big thing for your parents, especially your mum, to let you stay here with me, and I want to be able to look them in the eye and say I did the right thing. The right thing, that is, for both of us, in my opinion. I think we've got something special, Xander, you and I, and I wouldn't ever want to put that in jeopardy. I simply love you too much to ever want to risk losing you, either because I succumb to temptation, or because your parents feel they can't trust me anymore. You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

The boy looked disappointed, but, at the same time, appeared to have realised and accepted that what I'd said was the truth. He replied, slowly.

"Yes....yes, I understand, David. I wouldn't tell, though."

"That's not the point, Xander. It's not that I don't trust you, don't think that for a minute, but even if we kept it just between ourselves, forever, we'd still know, and, eventually, that could drive a wedge between us. I just don't want that to happen. And not only that, but you've got Robert to think of, too. He deserves your honesty, just as much, if not more, as I do, and your parents do."

"I know he does, you're right, of course. Can we still stay here for a while, though, before I have to go to bed?"

"I'd love to, sunshine, There's nowhere I'd rather be than here, seeing in the New Year with my favourite person in the whole world." Xander smiled, but then looked across at me, a little nervously, it seemed to me.

"Would....would you mind if I kissed you, David?"

"I wouldn't mind at all, if that's what you want."

"And a cuddle, too?"

I put my glass on the table, and took Xander's from his hand, placing it beside my own, before opening my arms to him. We embraced, warmly, and his soft lips brushed against mine, once, twice, before he pressed closer, and kissed me firmly yet gently. After a few seconds, I carefully disengaged from him.

"Thank you, sweetheart. That was lovely. But enough. More might spoil things. I'd get too....excited."

"I understand, David. Maybe one day, when I'm older...."

"There will still be Robert. I love you, Xander, more than I can say, almost. Sex couldn't make me love you more, but it could ruin what we already have. Let's not take that risk."

The boy smiled, albeit a smile tinged with a little sadness. "I love you, too, David." He reached over and picked up his glass again. "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Xander!"

****

Xander had finally, after another half glass of wine, taken himself off to bed just after 2:30, while I'd settled on my comfortable sofa, being asleep in mere moments - I'd drunk the rest of the wine, apart from anything else. I normally slept nude, and had since university days, I didn't even own a pair of pyjamas, but, obviously, with my very welcome guest on the premises, I'd needed to find something to wear. I'd settled on a tee shirt and an old pair of sweat pants. The light material of my lower garment, though, did little or nothing to disguise my 'condition' when I woke, at 9:30, to find Xander standing beside me, his eyes leaving no doubt what had caught his attention, although, even in my half-asleep daze, his curiosity seemed more academic than amorous.

"S....sorry, David," he stammered, "I wasn't trying to be rude, but....but I couldn't....help noticing."

The front of his own pyjamas suggested he was in a similar state. "Don't worry, Xander, it happens to most of us, most of the time." He looked down at himself, and grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, I guess so! It looks....big, though, yours, I mean. Will I get as big as that, do you think?"

"Well, first of all, I'm not really that big, just about average for an adult, about six, six and a half inches."

"What's that in centimetres, we don't do inches at school!" Xander interposed.

"15 or 16, I suppose. And secondly, I couldn't possibly tell you how much you'll grow, it really all depends on heredity, your genes."

"15 or 16? That makes yours about twice as big as mine, at the moment. Mine seems to be growing a bit, though, it's probably two centimetres more than it was when I was at primary. And it gets....hard a lot more often than it did, too."

"All part of growing up, sunshine. You're heading into puberty, when your body starts changing from a boy into a man. It won't happen overnight, of course, but it's a process everyone goes through, sooner or later."

"Yeah, we had some sex education at school, and Daddy has talked about it to me, as well. I know a little bit about it. I think....Robert might be starting puberty, too. I still haven't ever seen him completely undressed, he's always been too shy, but, when we've had sleepovers and stuff, he's always turned his back when I was getting changed or anything, as well. Until the other night, Boxing Day night, he stayed at our house, and he watched when I put my pyjamas on. I got....hard, because he was looking, I suppose, but he seemed to like it, and smiled, although he was blushing like anything. We still didn't do any sexy stuff, though, just cuddled and snuggled like we usually do. Maybe he might want to, soon, though. Do you think he will, David?"

"Maybe, but that's a private matter for you and him. And I think you should still stick to what you've done up to now, and not put any pressure on him."

"Oh, of course, I'd never try and get him to do anything he didn't want to. He's definitely not as shy as he was, though, he'll even hold my hand in front of his parents now, now that they know we....love each other. Mummy and Daddy had a talk with them, a while back, after what Alice....said on holiday, and they don't mind, they said they will always love Robert, no matter what. And Mummy and Daddy say the same about me, too."

"That's really great, Xander, I don't know Robert's parents, of course, but they sound just as nice and kind - and sensible - as yours."

"Yeah, they're really nice people, a bit old-fashioned, but still nice. Maybe you'll get to meet them some time and see for yourself."

"I hope so, I'd like that. Anyway, back to the mundane - what would you like for breakfast?"

"Just some tea and toast would be nice, thank you, that's what I normally have at home."

"OK, just give me five minutes to get washed and changed, and we'll see what we can come up with."

I changed into daytime clothes, but Xander was quite at ease sitting in my lounge in his pyjamas, happily munching on toast spread with some honey I'd forgotten I even had, but which he'd unearthed from the kitchen cupboard. It was a good job honey didn't spoil, I mused, I couldn't remember how long it had been there.

"What would you like to do today, Xander?" We'd arranged with his parents that he'd stay with me during the day, before I was due to take him back home at teatime - his grandparents were coming for dinner that evening.

"Not much, really - I'm feeling a bit lazy, to be honest. I'd just like to stay here with you - I like watching the river, it always seems to be changing, even if you look at the same spot for ages, it's never the same twice."

"Yeah, that's definitely the best thing about living here, having the river outside the window. Well, if that's what suits you, that's fine by me. I'll go and get a shower after I've washed the dishes, do you want to shower, too, afterwards?"

"No, I had one yesterday before you picked me up. I'll just have a quick wash and clean my teeth in a while. I'll wash up, you go and get ready, you're my friend, not my slave!"

"All volunteers gratefully accepted! Seriously, though, that's very kind of you, Xander, I do appreciate your offer."

"Well, go and get in the bathroom, then, before I change my mind!"

"Right away, sir!" We both laughed.

The day was just lovely. Xander, even though he had gone to the bathroom after I'd finished, and completed his ablutions, still made no effort to change out of his nightwear. I'm comfortable, he'd replied when I queried as to why. We sat and talked, played a little backgammon, and spent some time simply sitting quietly by the window to watch the water roll past, on its way to the sea. It was, in its uncomplicated way, one of the nicest days of my adult life, and I said so to Xander when, at around 4:00, he'd finally emerged from my bedroom in his street clothes, preparatory to his heading for home.

"I know, David, it's been really great for me, too. Thank you so much for taking me to the fireworks last night, and for letting me stay here with you today."

"You're more than welcome, Xander, and, as long as it suits you, you always will be welcome to share whatever I have."

"Forever, I hope. I haven't said much about it, but I've been thinking about what you said last night, too, when I asked if I could sleep with you. You were right, it would change things if we did....stuff together. I don't know if it would be better, or worse, but it would definitely be....different. And, when I think about it, what we have now is special, and I wouldn't want to lose it, either. Thank you, David, for helping me to understand that."

"Thank you, Xander, for making my life so happy. Happier than I've ever been, I think."

My boy smiled tenderly, and, not for the first or last time, kissed me lovingly.

****

As I waited, full of nervous tension, for my guest to arrive, I looked out of the window, watching the mist creeping over the nearby houses like a fluffy blanket, obscuring first those further away, and then, progressively, those close by. After a short while, there was little to see apart from the dripping grey, leaving me hoping that the weather, and the encroaching darkness, wasn't going to hamper the visit I'd been so looking forward to.

After he'd first stayed at the flat at New Year, Xander had spent the night with me on two subsequent occasions, both Saturdays, over the next couple of months. The Easter school holidays were fast approaching, and Xander had evidently raised the subject of Cornwall again, as Harry had intimated when I met him for a drink after a meeting he'd had in town.

"What do you think, David? The overnight stays seem to have gone well enough, from everyone's point of view, and Xander certainly is very keen to go to the cottage to stay with you for a few days."

"He'd be a long way from home, if anything happened, Harry. It's yours and Julia's call, really, I'd find it pretty difficult to say no to him, I have to admit."

"You said 'no' at New Year, though."

I looked at the man, startled. "He....he told you?"

Harry smiled slightly. "I said he was a truthful boy. Yes, he said he'd asked to sleep with you, and that you'd declined, and told me the reasons you'd given him."

"Well, maybe nothing untoward would have happened, but I didn't want to put myself in the way of that sort of temptation. Perhaps my reasons weren't as noble as all that, just fear of myself, and fear of the consequences."

"David, from what you've said about yourself, for you to have turned down such an opportunity, to show that degree of restraint, is really quite remarkable, in my opinion. I prefer to think that you did do it for the right reasons, for Xander. I have no doubt at all that you love him, and I agree that your friendship is very special, for both of you. I have absolutely no qualms about his coming to Cornwall, and neither does Julia. We wouldn't mind some time away ourselves, and we've seen a rather nice hotel, a little further west than your place, where we'd quite like to stay for a couple of days. We were looking at the weekend after Easter. We could drop Xander off with you en route, and either pick him up on the way back, or, if you'd like him to stay a little longer, you could bring him back later in the week. He goes back to school on the following Monday, the 8th."

"If Julia and yourself are happy, I'd be delighted to have him stay with me, of course."

"That's settled, then. We'll work out the exact details over the next few days." Harry paused for a moment, and, very unusually for him, looked slightly uncomfortable. "David....while Xander's with you, might....I ask you a....favour."

"Of course, anything I'm able to do, I gladly will."

"What it is....Xander's at that age where he is starting to become curious....about his body, how it will develop, what will happen to him. I've tried to answer his questions as honestly as I can, and the standard anatomical questions, and the 'baby making' aspects, well, none of that is a problem. He asked me something recently, though, that made me realise that, in his particular case, my knowledge is more than a little deficient. To be frank, David, it's clear to me that Xander is almost certainly gay, but I know next to nothing about that....area of life. I know you've told me that you haven't been....active since your teens, but I'm still sure you know far more than me. I was wondering....if you might be able to answer any questions he might have on the subject."

I looked at the man, thoughtfully. "I will, Harry, but at the risk of your thinking that I'm firing ultimatums at you, there are a couple of things I would like to say. First of all, there's absolutely no way I'm going to sit Xander down and give him a gay version of 'the talk'. Whatever arises, I want to arise naturally, initiated by him, by whatever questions he might have. Leading on from that, if I am going to answer his questions, I would want to answer completely honestly. If that means describing body parts, or activities, graphically, sobeit. I'd be cognisant of his age, of course, and certainly wouldn't expose him to pornography or anything of that kind, and I'd explain any risks associated with specific practices, but, as a general principle, I believe that half-truths, evasions, and worse still, misinformation, do far more harm than good. I had a schoolfriend, from a very strict religious background, who was made to feel like a freak, an abomination because of the nonsense he was plied with, and eventually attempted suicide. He recovered, fortunately, and, by the time we left school, he'd come to terms with his sexuality. I know that was an extreme case, but I really believe that gay boys - and girls, for that matter, although I've no direct experience, in that case - should be made to feel that they're just as 'normal' as anyone else, all part of the same continuum as their straight counterparts. I'm sorry for the 'soapbox' moment, and I'll fully understand if you don't think Xander is old enough for such a direct approach, but that's how I feel about the subject."

"As ever, thank you for your honesty, David. If I want you to help me in this regard, I can hardly ask you to do it with one hand tied behind your back. I'll discuss it with Julia, and let you know what we decide before Xander comes to you."

"Of course, Harry, thank you."

In the event, I received their blessing to answer any questions Xander might ask me in my own way, in amongst the other arrangements for his visit to Cornwall. Whether that would translate into any actual discussion was, of course, entirely up to Xander.

At length, I heard a car approaching, and pulling up at the front of the house. In contrast to Harry's most unexpected intervention the previous autumn, I was ready and waiting this time, and had the front door open before even Xander, in spite of all of his boyish enthusiasm, could fling himself out of the car. The boy rushed into my open arms.

"David, it's great to see you! And it's great to be here at last." He looked up at the front of the cottage. "It's a nice little house, isn't it?"

"Xander, I'm really pleased that you're here. And, yes, I like my little hideaway, I always did, right back to when I was younger than you are now."

Harry and Julia emerged from the car more sedately, and we exchanged greetings.

"Well, you certainly have a tucked-away location, David," Julia said.

"It's not too bad - the main road's only a couple of miles away, but yes, it's pretty quiet here, which suits me fine."

"A bit remote for my tastes, I think."

"My parents felt much the same way - after about three days, they began to get withdrawal symptoms from the noise and pollution! I always loved it here, though, right back to when we first bought the place, when I was 10. Anyway, do all come in, and I'll give you the grand tour!"

An hour or so later, fortified with tea and cake, Harry and Julia were ready to continue to their west Cornwall destination, and Xander's bags were ensconced in my spare bedroom - no-one would have to use the sofa this week.

"We'll be back at home around lunchtime on Monday, David," Harry was saying. "When you and Xander decide which day you're heading back up, just give us a call and let us know."

The boy had made it known from the outset that he wanted to stay as long as possible, to which, of course, I had no objection at all.

"Will do, Harry. You two have a lovely weekend - St Mawes is a beautiful place, I just hope we get some nicer weather so you can see it at its best."

"The forecast for tomorrow is more hopeful - we'll keep our fingers crossed! Anyway, we'd better get on - we have a table booked for dinner at 7:30 in a restaurant some friends of ours recommended."

"Enjoy! See you in a week or so, guys."

Xander said his goodbyes, too, receiving the predictable admonishment from Julia to 'be good'. As the car pulled away, Xander rolled his eyes at me in near-teenage frustration.

"Mummy still treats me like I'm about four years old sometimes! What does she think I'm going to do, pull up the flowers and draw on the wallpaper!"

"That's mothers for you, sunshine! Never mind now, at 12, but when you're 22, 32, or 42, she'll still look at you and see her 'little boy'."

"Oh, great, cheer me up, why don't you!"

"We aim to please! Anyway, I thought we'd go up to the pub for tea tonight, as I didn't know exactly what time you were going to be getting here, it's only about ten minutes walk away. It's a pity you weren't here a few years back, you could've met Iggy."

"Who?"

"The pub iguana - he used to live in a vivarium in the family room!"

Xander laughed. "I've heard of pub cats, but a pub iguana is a new one! I hope you know the way, David, I'd get lost in about five seconds in this mist."

"All part of the joys of living on the moor! But yes, I think I could find my way to the pub and back in my sleep, never mind this mist!"

"Oh yes, bit of a regular, are you?"

"I....find myself in there every now and again, shall we say! Let's get your bags unpacked and your clothes stored neatly, and then it should be time to take a slow stroll up there."

A couple of hours later, suitably fed and watered, we were back at the cottage, sitting comfortably together on the sofa.

"David....I've got a bit of news to tell you."

"Yes?"

"I....I'm not such a little boy, anymore."

"In what way?"

"I....I've started....squirting, you know, what's it called....semen. Only a little bit, but it's definitely there."

"Congratulations! I was about the same age when I started, I think, although it was too long ago to remember exactly!"

"I've got a few hairs, too, but because they're blond, you can hardly see them."

He paused, but with an air of wanting to say more. I waited to see if he would continue.

"And....and there's something else, too."

"What's that, sunshine."

"I....I mean we, Robert and I....have done it together. I've finally seen him all undressed, he's beautiful, all over! We gave each other the good feelings, the last time I stayed at his house the other weekend. It was his first ever time, he hadn't even done it to himself before. He loved it, though, and so did I!"

"That's great, Xander, but don't forget sex is a private thing - Robert might not like you telling the world!"

"I'm only telling you! And Robert doesn't mind, we talked about it, he knows you're my best friend, apart from him, of course, and that you don't mind me telling you stuff like that, but that you wouldn't tell anyone else, if I don't want you to."

"I'm delighted that you should trust me like that, Xander, but don't think you have to tell me everything, please. It's your business, and Robert's, and no-one else's."

"I know, but....well, we don't really know that much about sex stuff, and I....wondered....if you might be able to....teach me about a few things, so I can teach Robert, too, because....because I know you did it when you were our age."

"If that's what you want, Xander, I'll do my best to answer your questions, and if I don't know the answer to anything, I'll try to find out."

"Don't tell Mummy and Daddy, though."

"Oddly enough, your dad mentioned to me, the day he told me he and your mum had decided you could come down here, that you'd asked him....a question he didn't have an answer for, and asked if I could help him out on that front. I told him I would, but only if he was prepared for me to give you totally honest answers. So the same goes for you, sunshine - ask me whatever you like, but be aware that you won't get anything other than the full story, whether that be good or bad."

"Yeah, that will be great - it's hard enough to find out the proper information about sex with girls, no-one wants to say anything at all about doing it with boys. Can we talk about it now?"

And we duly did - Xander had, of course, read some of my stories, and those by others, when he was trying to find me online, and he'd already begun exploring his own body, and that of his friend and lover, so he wasn't exactly a wide-eyed innocent, but his knowledge was, at best, only partial, as, naturally, you'd expect of a boy who was still only 12½. We talked for about an hour, as I gave him the information he asked for. His cheeks flushed a little with embarrassment once or twice, and there were a few giggles and 'no ways!', but, on the whole, his attitude was commendably mature for someone of his age.

At length, he decided it was enough for the moment. "Thank you, David, that was all very interesting and helpful. Is it alright, if I think of any more questions, to ask you another time?"

"Of course. I hope I didn't embarrass you too much."

He grinned. "No, I'm fine - well, mostly. I just wish Robert was here, so we could....experiment a bit!"

"Patience is a virtue, sunshine! Seriously, though, don't push things too much. Robert, from what you've said, is still a bit hesitant about all of this. I know it's tempting to rush off and try to do everything the first time, but don't overload him, if you can help it."

"I won't, I promise." The boy glanced up at the wall clock. "I'm a bit....tired. I think I might have an early night."

I smiled, knowingly. "Have fun, Xander, I'll see you in the morning."

"You rotten thing, you know me too well!" Xander smirked. He kissed me gently on the lips. "Goodnight, David. I love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart. Sleep well - whenever that might be!" He poked the tip of his tongue in my direction, as a parting shot.

****

Xander, to my slight surprise, was already up and about when I came downstairs just before 8:00 the following morning. As soon as he saw me, he smirked mischievously, then started to giggle.

"I know I'm not at my best first thing in the morning, Xander, but I didn't think I was that hilarious!"

"It's not....not you....I....I had....this....dream!" More half-stifled chortling.

"Yes?"

"Sort of....about what we were talking about....last night. I....I dreamed....dreamed I was with Robert." He laughed again. "I....I....need some clean sheets, please!" Xander managed to choke out, before dissolving once more into uncontrollable giggles.

"Oh, I see....that sort of dream!" He nodded enthusiastically through his laughter. "Don't worry, I've got plenty of spare bedding, and a good washing machine! And plenty of hot water for showers - or do you need a cold one!"

The boy had begun to calm down, but the 'cold shower' comment set him off again.

"S....stop it, I'll wet myself....in a minute if....if you keep making....me laugh!"

I sat beside him on the sofa, and put my arm around him. His aroma washed over me as he snuggled into my side, the smell of bed-warm boy, and of the aftermath of his nocturnal experiences. The scent was almost overpowering, so reminiscent of happy times I'd had at his age, and a little older. I closed my eyes for a moment, and stifled a sigh, not wanting to break the light-hearted mood.

"I'm glad you had a fun time, sweetheart! Go and have a quick shower, then we can have some breakfast, sort your bed out, and decide what we want to do today." Xander grinned happily, before heading for the bathroom.

The weather had improved markedly from the mist and drizzle of the previous evening, being sunny, if a little chilly, so we decided on a seaside outing. I drove to the station, and we went by train to Looe, always a place I'd been very fond of - in fact, I had even got as far as considering selling the cottage and moving there, only my long-term emotional attachment to my little home on the moor holding me back. Xander and I did the 'tourist thing', wandering through the narrow streets and along the quayside to the Town Beach, laughing uproariously at the brilliant cartoons at 'Clive's Cats' - I bought him a couple of not-too-rude coasters and a key ring as a souvenir - having fish and chips for lunch, even, despite the cool temperature, indulging in an 'award-winning' ice cream. As the afternoon drew on, though, clouds gathered and rain seemed to threaten, so we decided to call it a day, and head for home.

"Thanks so much, David, it's been a brilliant day!" Xander said as we got into my car in the station car park.

"Yeah, I've really enjoyed it, too - the company always helps, of course!"

The boy smiled, and kissed my cheek.

"What are we going to do now?" he asked.

"Why, what would you like to do?"

"I....well, I don't know if I should say."

"Why, sweetheart?"

"Well - I don't know if it would be fair on you."

I looked at him, perplexed. He continued, a little hesitantly.

"I....I know we....can't do....sexy stuff, but I'd....really like to get a bottle of that fizzy wine, you know, like we had at New Year, go back to the cottage, and....and kiss and cuddle a bit."

I looked into Xander's beautiful face, tears in my eyes, unable to speak.

"It....it doesn't matter, David, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said. It really wouldn't be fair on you, it would be like....teasing you, wouldn't it?"

"I didn't say 'no', Xander. Is that really what you'd like to do?"

The boy nodded slightly. "Only if you want to as well, David."

I did want to, of course, desperately, desperately wanted to, but could I do it without the situation escalating into areas I didn't want it to go?

"I....I'd really like that, Xander, as long as....as you don't get upset if I have to stop, if I get too....turned on. I really don't want it to get sexual, you know the reasons why, I don't need to tell you again."

"Of course, David, it would just be selfish of me if I got upset like that. Come on, let's go to the shop, and then home."

Just under an hour later, after the short detour via my local supermarket, the groceries - and the wine - stowed in the kitchen, Xander stood quietly in the lounge, looking at me earnestly.

"I....I don't mind if....you don't want to, David, really."

I sat on the sofa, then swung my legs up so I was lying full length. I opened my arms.

"Come here, beautiful boy," I said, gently. He laid on top of me, his light weight seeming to melt into my body, his soft lips pressed against mine.

I stroked his back, ran my fingers through his hair, as we kissed, all of my senses fully receptive to the delights of my boy. I was aroused, of course, but not nearly as uncontrollably as I'd expected, more of a background colouration to the sensuality rather than sexuality of our embrace. In fact, it was Xander who broke away, with a sighing breath.

"I need to stop for a minute, David, I nearly....nearly had....the good feeling - and I don't want to make another mess!"

I smiled, lightly kissing his nose, eliciting a little chuckle, and simply held him in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder. Before either of us knew it, we were both fast asleep.

****

The Sunday was thoroughly wet, so we decided to have a quiet day at the cottage, spending the time talking, listening to music - Xander surprised me, not for the first time, by choosing the same kind of classic rock from my modest CD collection as I might have chosen myself - and playing numerous games of backgammon. I'd intended to cook the traditional roast dinner for him, whether we'd gone out or not, and I was pleased that it went down well, accompanied by the bottle of cava postponed from the previous evening.

As the week progressed, we became, if it were possible, even more comfortable in each other's company, whether out and about on the various trips we took - the Eden Project, the Maritime Museum in Falmouth, a shopping trip to Truro - or in our quiet times together at the cottage. As is the way with such things, though, the end of Xander's visit was inexorably approaching - I'd arranged with his parents to take him home on the Saturday, as Julia wanted a clear day on the Sunday before his return to school the following day. We'd had, at Xander's instance, a few more gentle cuddles, but nothing nearly as passionate as on that first Saturday evening, the boy being well aware of our respective boundaries, and doing nothing to challenge them, an approach matching my own. It came as something of a surprise, then, when I was woken in the small, dark hours of Xander's last night at the cottage by his climbing into my bed, completely unbidden and unannounced.

"I know what you're going to say, David," he said sleepily, "that I shouldn't be here, but I really want to. Let me snuggle with you for a little while, please."

I had, at least, worn some nightclothes during the boy's stay, and he was pyjama-clad as well, but I was still very uncertain about him sharing my bed, especially given his commendable honesty - even the relatively innocent truth might be too much for his parents, especially Julia, to countenance.

"Xander...." I began, after a few moments hiatus, but, as I spoke, I realised that he was already asleep. I turned onto my side, my back to the boy, and he unconsciously moulded his body to mine. I laid awake for a few minutes, worrying about the implications, and wondering about whether I should carry him back to his own bed, but before I could come to a decision, I fell asleep, too.

****

The unfamiliarity of waking up in a bed occupied by anyone other than just myself almost threw me into a panic for a few seconds. My instinctive movement away from the unexpected body contact woke Xander, who, equally instinctively, shuffled closer to regain that comforting contact.

"Hi, David. Don't go, you're lovely and warm," he mumbled.

I could have said the same, the feeling of him spooned behind me addictively intoxicating. I rolled onto my back, the boy adjusting his position to suit.

"Xander, I love you being here, but this shouldn't have happened, you know that, don't you?"

"I don't see why, you've promised you wouldn't do anything, and you haven't. What's wrong with us snuggling?"

"Oh, come on, you know it's not as simple as that! I'm a boylover, Xander, you're a stunningly lovely boy, you know very well what the world would think."

His rarely roused, fiery temper flared.

"Bollocks to the world! We know the truth, and if they don't believe it, sod them!"

That's all very well, it wouldn't be you that got arrested, I thought, but managed to bite my tongue before saying so.

"Xander....I don't want to lose you, I know I've said it loads of times, but the repetition doesn't make it any less true."

"I'm not going anywhere! What do you think, that I'm going to walk into my house this evening and announce that we were in bed together! I'm not bloody stupid!"

"Xander, sweetheart, don't fight me, please! I love you too much, that's all."

"Never too much! Love can never be too much!"

He climbed astride me, clamping his lips to mine, his kisses almost more violent, confrontational, than anything else, seemingly wanting to defy the world to say it was wrong. Suddenly, his whole body seemed to spasm, and he groaned into my mouth. After a few seconds, he let go, almost leapt from the bed, and ran from the room in tears. I made to follow, but I heard the lock on the bathroom door click into place. It wasn't until that moment that I noticed the damp patch on my stomach.

****

It was almost half an hour later, as I sat on the sofa downstairs, before I heard the bathroom door open again. I resisted the temptation to go and find Xander, thinking it best to let him make the next move, in his own time. After a few minutes more, I heard his light footsteps coming down the stairs. He reached the door of the lounge, but stopped, as though he thought he might need permission to enter. I looked towards him, and smiled. His face didn't change, he simply looked blank.

"Xander, sweetheart, please, don't just stand there, come and talk to me."

The boy made his way hesitantly into the room, but still seemed to neither want to speak, nor to approach me too closely. The silence was glutinous, oppressive, the tension almost palpable. Finally, he spoke, his voice trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, David, I know I've ruined everything."

"You haven't ruined anything, sweetheart. What happened, happened because of love. Yours for me, and mine for you. Nothing more or less than that. If you think I'm angry with you, or that I'm going to tell you that I don't want to have any more to do with you, then I'm afraid you're mistaken."

"I....I did what we said....we couldn't do, though." He was obviously close to tears again. "I made you do....what you didn't....want to."

"It wasn't planned, though, was it? It just happened. You're just starting to learn about your body, and how it responds - it's like anything else, you can't know everything all at once, by magic. It's an ongoing process. It nearly happened the other night, didn't it, but you realised what was going on, and stopped. This time, because you were more emotional, you didn't realise until it was too late. It doesn't matter, Xander, really it doesn't." I took a risk, and tried to lighten the mood. "Anyway, apart from not kicking your butt out of bed at 3:00, or whatever ludicrous time it was when you landed, I don't think I've done much wrong!"

The ruse worked, Xander smiled, then giggled.

"It....it....!" He burst out laughing again.

"What?"

"It....was a huge one, too! You....must be extra....sexy!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, mister! Come on, let's start getting ready, we've got a long journey today."

The serious look returned to Xander's face, just for a moment.

"I love you, David, you're so nice to me, all the time."

"Only because you deserve it, you wonderful boy! I love you too, Xander, more than anyone, ever in my life."

****

Apart from his swimming, which he did purely for pleasure, and not in any way competitively, Xander had been far more the academic than the sportsman in his school career to that point. Things changed in one marked way, though, as he entered his first Summer Term at grammar school. From his first games lesson of that term, he proved to be an absolute natural at cricket, particularly at batting, although the same hand-eye coordination that served him so well in that department of the game made him a very useful fielder, too. He had, he told me later, never so much as picked up a cricket bat in his life before that chilly mid-April Wednesday afternoon, but, within three weeks, he was playing his first game for his school age group team, scoring more than half of his team's runs as they ran out comfortable victors against another local school. The same weekend, he joined the junior section of his local cricket club, and was soon in their team as well, amongst boys who were mostly a year older than himself. I watched him play for the first time on a pleasantly warm afternoon in May, joining Harry at the club to see my boy produce his side's top score once more, although, on this occasion, their opponents narrowly prevailed. He joined us after the match, carrying a cricket bag that seemed almost as big as he was, smiling a little ruefully in my direction.

"Hi, David - I hoped you'd see us win. If I hadn't dropped that catch, we might have done it."

He was being far too hard on himself, and I said so.

"If you'd have hung on to that one, you'd have been up for 'Sports Personality of the Year'! You did brilliantly to get anywhere near it. And that's before we even start on your star performance with the bat! I tried to play at school, and always liked it, but if I'd been half as good as you, I'd have been thrilled to bits!"

Xander wrinkled his nose. "You're just saying that - I'm not that good!"

"Xander, I'm not kidding you here, I was genuinely surprised at how good you are, especially for someone who's only been playing for a few weeks. If you stick at it, there's no telling how good you could be."

Harry seconded my praise. "The coach here said he couldn't believe you hadn't played before this year, too, didn't he?" Xander nodded, a little hesitantly. "Well, there you are - you might think David or I are just saying things to make you feel better, but the coach hasn't got any reason to butter you up, has he? I'm sure he wouldn't say you were good if he didn't think it was true."

Xander shrugged. "Maybe. I just like playing, it's not like I want to be a professional, or anything. I do want to do my best for the team, though, and not let anyone down."

"Well, you certainly haven't let anyone down today, Xander," I said. "What's the plan then, guys? Are we going to eat somewhere, I'm sure it's my turn to pay."

"Actually," Harry said, "I think the plan was to go to Jim and Helen's, Robert's parents, for a barbecue. I'm sure they wouldn't mind a gatecrasher, I'll give them a quick call, if you like."

"Yeah!" Xander enthused, "I told you Robert wanted to see you again, didn't I, David? Please come with us, it'll be fun!"

"I don't want to intrude...." I began, but Harry had already fished his phone from his pocket, and was dialling the number, and, within a minute or two, my invitation had been confirmed. I didn't, of course, fight too assiduously against going along to the barbecue, because, as ever, I would always rather spend time with Xander if the opportunity arose, although I wasn't so naïve as to believe I would see overly much of my boy on this occasion, with Robert being part of the event. Harry had brought his car to the cricket ground, so I prevailed upon him to go via the local supermarket so that I could at least buy a couple of bottles of wine to contribute to the hosts, before we made our way back to their house, so Xander could shower and change, then walked the half mile or so to Robert's home.

The smell of the charcoal wafted our way as we walked into the little close of houses.

"Looks like they've started without us," Xander remarked. "I hope they've left us something to eat!"

"I doubt you'll starve!" Harry chuckled. We entered through a side gate which gave into the garden, Xander leading the way. As soon as he saw his best friend, he was off, and they were soon talking animatedly, presumably about Xander's sporting exploits. Looking around, there were several other guests, but, of course, the only other person I recognised was Julia.

"Hello David, it's nice to see you."

"And you, Julia, how are you?"

"Fine, thank you. I don't think you know any of the others, do you?" I concurred. "Let me introduce you."

Jim and Helen Sheldon, my hosts for the evening, greeted me warmly.

"You certainly seem to have these lads eating out of your hand, David! Xander doesn't seem to be able to string three sentences together without mentioning you, and our young fellow waxed lyrical about what a good time he'd had when you took them Christmas shopping. And that's unusual for Robert, I can tell you!" Jim said.

"I don't know why, Jim, I think I'm just lucky most of the time, in meeting nice people who are easy to get along with. I guess, as I've said to Harry and Julia before, I've got a bit of a boyish streak myself, perhaps they respond to that."

"Julia's told me how well Xander gets on with you, David," Helen added. "It sounds like you'd make a good father, it's a pity you don't have any children of your own."

I felt myself being pushed into a corner, but Julia came to my rescue.

"I don't think your lifestyle has been conducive to starting a family, really, has it, David?"

"No, not really. I'd never say never, but I think it's unlikely now. I'm a bit too used to my independence."

"That's just selfish, David!" Helen laughed. "Why should you have all the fun! Anyway, come and meet the others."

Jim and Helen's neighbours were there, and after a cursory round of introductions, Helen guided me towards another couple.

"David, this is my sister, Hazel, and her husband, Craig. This is David Parrish, a friend of Harry and Julia's."

Hazel would have been easily picked out of an identity parade as Helen's sibling, the family resemblance being clear. Her husband, on the other hand, was, to say the least, an imposing figure, some six feet four or five, and with a build like a rugby lock forward. He held out his hand to me.

"Craig Armstrong, pleased to meet you." His voice was soft, with a light Scots accent, and his handshake, while not weak, by any means, wasn't of the bonecrushing variety his stature might have suggested. A gentle giant, I thought, and that impression was immediately reinforced when a small boy, sharing Craig's sandy hair and fair complexion, walked over to the man's side, to be carefully lifted up and kissed tenderly.

"How are you doing, sweetheart? Is Callum looking after you?"

"Yes, Daddy, I just wanted to come and say hello." The youngster looked at me intently, then smiled a shy little smile.

"Hello."

"Hi, I'm David. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm Anthony Armstrong. I'm seven."

"I'm very glad to have made your acquaintance, Anthony. What have you been up to, anything interesting?"

"Robert was teaching me to play backgammon. I like it, it's a game you have to think about, they're the sort I like best." He looked at me thoughtfully, once again. "You're teaching me, sort of, aren't you?"

"In what way, Anthony?"

"Well, Robert's teaching me to play, Xander taught Robert, and you taught Xander. So that's what I mean when I said you were teaching me."

"That's a very interesting thought, I wouldn't have seen it like that, but, yes, you're right, in a way. That's how education works, one person's experience being passed to another, then others learning from that second person, and so on. Very clever of you to make that connection."

Craig ruffled his son's hair. "That's our little intellectual! He's amazing, really, when you think that he's not even eight until the end of the year. He's so far ahead at school, they can barely even measure how bright he actually is. I don't know where he gets it from, it's certainly not from me, I'm just an engineer!"

"Can I get down now, please, Daddy?"

"Course you can, sweetheart." Craig lowered the boy to the ground with a kiss to the top of his head.

"David, I want to tell you something privately," Anthony said. I looked at his father, who raised his eyebrows in amused bewilderment, before spreading his hands in a 'go ahead' gesture. The boy took my hand, and led me a few paces away. I squatted down beside him, so our faces were more or less at the same level.

"David, most people call me Anthony, but my special friends call me Tony. You can call me Tony, if you want to," the boy said with quiet gravity.

"If you'd like me to call you Tony, I certainly will. And I'm very pleased that you'd think of me as a friend."

"It's because you talked to me like....I wasn't a little boy. And because you taught me to play backgammon. Sort of! Do you want to say hello to my brothers, too?"

"I'd be honoured if you'd introduce me, Tony. Lead on!"

In the event, my introduction to Paul, his oldest brother, was simply a wave from Tony in his general direction, because the teenage boy's attention was exclusively focused on a girl of a similar age, sitting on the grass beside him. "That's Christina, with Paul," Tony said, rather dismissively, it seemed to me. The next introduction was more conventional, though, as I met Callum, the middle brother, the same age as Robert and Xander. It transpired that Paul and Callum were the cousins that Robert attended school with, and Robert and Callum certainly seemed to get on well enough, Robert being more relaxed with his cousin than anyone else I'd seen, apart from Xander himself. My boy smiled warmly in my direction, to let me know I wasn't forgotten in the swirl of socialisation, a smile, needless to say, I returned in kind. A different, rather satisfied looking little smile passed over Xander's face when he saw Tony take my hand once more.

"Will you play backgammon with me, please, David, I'd like that."

"I don't see why not, Tony. Where's the backgammon set, do you know?"

"Yes, it's on the little table on the patio. Over this way."

Twenty minutes or so later, Xander ambled over to say that the food was ready. Tony and I had played three games, and while he hadn't managed, quite, to beat me, he certainly had a fair grasp of the game.

"You should see him play chess, David," Xander said. "He's scary!"

Tony grinned. "Can you play chess, David?"

"Appallingly badly! I've always refused to play Xander, because he's far too good for me. If he thinks you're scary, I'll resign now, before we even think about getting the board out!" Tony giggled musically, the first truly little-boyish thing I'd yet seen him do. "Come on then, guys, let's go and eat!"

I chatted with the adults for a while over the grilled chicken, sausages and salad, but soon found myself being nudged by Xander in his and Robert's direction.

"Robert wants to talk to you, David, he hasn't seen you since Christmas."

"I was trying not to intrude on your time with him, sweetheart, but I'm more than happy to talk, if that's what you both want."

Xander grinned mischievously. "Don't worry about our private time, David, I'm staying here tonight. We'll have plenty of time then to talk....or whatever!"

I smiled and shook my head. "I see! Well, be gentle with him!"

Xander smirked. "Always!"

After a rather slow start, Robert, in his slightly diffident way, was almost as talkative as Xander over the next hour or so. We chatted about a wide range of things, bur cricket seemed to loom largest, Robert being a fan of the sport, if not a player of any great standing. An idea began to form in my mind, although I kept the thought to myself, until I knew for sure whether I could work things out. As the last of the evening light was fading, I became aware of a small figure standing beside me.

"Hi, Tony! Have you had a good evening?"

"Yes, thank you, David. We have to go now, Mummy says it's getting late. Thank you for playing backgammon with me, can we play again the next time I see you, please?"

"Of course, Tony. It's been really nice to meet you, I hope I'll see you again soon."

Tony, as he had earlier in the evening, looked at me with an intensity almost preternatural for someone so young. "So do I, David. Really soon." The boy turned and walked away, without looking back.

"Wow!" Xander murmured. "He likes you, David. I mean really likes you!"

I followed the small figure with my eyes, until he disappeared in the gloom of the dark garden, the memory of his penetrating gaze etched into my mind. Would I see him again, I wondered, and if so, when?

****

By calling in a few favours from some erstwhile colleagues of mine in the City, one in particular who was a Surrey County Cricket Club member, I found myself ushering Xander and Robert into one of the executive boxes at The Oval for a one-day international on a sunny morning in August. The boys had been beside themselves when they found out where they were going that day, even Robert's usual reserve being broken down by a flood of excitement. We had a great day, a lovely meal, fantastic views of the cricket, and England even managed to win, perhaps the most doubtful part of the whole package! The respective parents had said they were happy for both boys to stay over at the flat, given that it was less than a mile from the ground, so, as the setting sun lit up the river with golds and reds, the three of us found ourselves in my lounge, Xander and Robert still talking non-stop about their day and how great it had been.

"Xander's told me before about how nice your flat is, David," Robert said, "I can see why now. I don't think I've ever been this close to the river, apart from going over some of the bridges."

"Yeah, I like it here, when I'm in London. It's central, it's easy to get to lots of different places without having to worry about driving, and it's got a great view. I'm lucky, I know it."

"You can watch the river from the bedroom window, too, Robert," Xander added. "It's nice to see early in the morning, when everything's quiet. Maybe we'll be able to do that tomorrow."

"David...." Robert began hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Are....aren't you going to be....sad....because of Xander and I....sleeping together in your bed?"

"Of course not, sunshine, I know you and Xander are special to each other, I couldn't possibly be jealous of you two being together. You know I love Xander, and that Xander loves me, but like you said before, at Christmas, it's a different kind of love. I know you're his number one, and that is exactly as it should be."

The boy looked at me uncertainly. "David....when Xander....stayed in Cornwall, you....you taught him some things, didn't you?"

"I answered some questions, that was all."

"I....I know, Xander's taught me....most of the things, too. There....there's one thing....we haven't tried yet, though, and....I want to." Xander looked at Robert, wide-eyed. "Would....would you mind....if we tried it tonight." Robert's cheeks were flushed with colour, but his eyes were steady on mine. "You do know what I mean, don't you, David?" I nodded. "I don't want to, though, if....you don't want us to....do it....here, in your home."

"Robert, I'm so impressed that you've been brave - and courteous - enough to say what you've just said. Once that bedroom door closes, sunshine, what you and Xander do or don't do is entirely your business. It's private between you two, and I don't want to know, before or after. If I can just give you one small piece of advice, though - go carefully, and look after each other."

Robert smiled shyly. "Thank you, David. Would you mind if....we had an early night?"

"Of course not! Whenever you're ready. The bed's made, your bags are already in there, the room's got the ensuite, it's all yours."

At that moment, I glanced at Xander, and, to my amazement, big tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you alright?"

"I'm so happy, David," he sniffled. "I love you, both of you, so much, this is just my love spilling over!"

Robert walked across to Xander, gently wiped the tears away with the balls of his thumbs, then put his arms around his boyfriend's neck and kissed him tenderly, the first time I'd seen any real intimacy between them. "Come on, my love," Robert said. "Let's go to bed."

They walked, hand in hand, to the door, the fair head and the dark so close they were almost touching. Robert turned back to me. "Goodnight, David, thank you so much. I'll never forget today, for the whole of my life."

"Goodnight, guys. See you in the morning." Xander broke into a huge grin, as though he'd suddenly realised what was about to happen, and blew me a kiss just as he disappeared around the doorframe.

I don't know what time it was, but certainly some dark early morning hour, when I woke to the touch of a hand on my shoulder. It was Xander.

"Don't worry, David, I'm alright, and so is Robert. I'm not going to tell you all about it, or anything - just that....it was so wonderful, for both of us. Thank you for making it possible. I love you!"

"I love you, too, always and forever, Xander. Goodnight, my darling, sleep well."

He kissed my cheek, and was gone. I sighed, not in the slightest jealous of them and their love, but for my own lost boyhood, and for the love I'd never managed to find.

****

I was spending a couple of weeks at the cottage in September, usually, in my experience, a very pleasant month weather-wise in Cornwall, writing a little and doing a bit of walking but otherwise not over-exerting myself. One Friday evening, just as dusk was falling, my phone rang. I could see immediately from the display that it was Xander who was calling. I'd barely had the chance to say hello before my boy bubbled over with his news.

"David, you'll never guess what happened earlier on! It was amazing!"

"What was it, sunshine?"

"Well, Robert was coming over for supper, and to stay over tonight, I walked round to his house to meet him. On the way back, we were just laughing about something, and Robert held my hand, just for a few seconds. These older boys, three of them, they must have been 15 or 16, saw it, and started calling us queers, and all that sort of stuff, so I told them to piss off. One of them went for me, but Robert did a judo throw on him! You should have seen it, David, this boy was about twice as big as Robert, one second he was about to punch me in the mouth, the next he was on his back like a dying fly! The other two just walked off and left their mate lying on the floor. He finally got up, looked at Robert like he couldn't believe his eyes, then he walked off, too. We laughed so much, I thought I was going to wet myself! I think I'm going to start going to judo with Robert and Callum, I talked to Mummy and Daddy about it just now, and they think it's a good idea. I mean, I'm not scared of people like that boy tonight, but if they're bigger than me, it would be useful having a way to look after myself - and Robert, too. I suppose we've been lucky before today, because I know lots of people don't like gays, but we've never really had any problems up to now."

"It is getting better, slowly, Xander, but, yes, there are still a lot of prejudiced people out there. I agree with your parents, it certainly won't do any harm for you to learn to defend yourself. And your little Robert, he's certainly turning out to have hidden depths, isn't he?"

"Not so little, now, David - he seems to be growing about a centimetre a day at the moment! He's still not as tall as me, but he's catching up fast. He was a hero today, anyway." The boy lowered his voice, conspiratorially. "I'll make sure I pay him back tonight! He's going to have....a very, very nice time!"

I laughed. "Enjoy, sweetheart! I'll see you next week, if all goes to plan - I missed your birthday last year, I don't want to miss it again, if I can help it."

"Because it's a school night, I think we're just going out for a meal on the day, then doing something at the weekend. I'd like to see you, David, I hope you can come."

"I'll speak to your dad over the next couple of days and see what we can arrange - I'd like to see you, too, but I could say that every day of my life, not just your birthday."

"Awww, David, you're so nice! I'd better go, Mummy's just called that supper's ready. I love you, see you soon."

"Love you too, and give Robert my regards, as well, tell him that if I need a bodyguard, his name's top of the list!"

Xander giggled. "'Bye, David!"

"'Bye, Xander."

****

Xander's thirteenth birthday was indeed marked by a meal at the local dining pub we'd visited before. It was a small, quiet family style gathering, just my boy and his parents, Robert and myself. Xander had signed up for the judo classes, so I offered to buy his uniform as a birthday present, an offer that was well received by the boy and his parents. His birthday outing, on the following Saturday, was to a theme park with Robert and several of his school friends, so I left them to their own devices that day - even if Xander had begged me on bended knee, I wouldn't have gone on a rollercoaster, I absolutely hated them!

Xander was now well on his way into puberty, and, if anything, he was becoming even more alluring, physically, than he had been before. He'd got a little taller, although, proportionally, his build was still perfect, his face was less obviously boyish but still smooth and blemish-free. It seemed impossible, whenever we were in the same room, for me to keep my eyes off of him. The age, and developmental stage, he was now at was that which I'd always found most attractive, right back to my earliest sexual awakenings - my first partners at school were a couple of years older than my then eleven year old self, and that predominant age of attraction for me had never changed. As a result, I found myself, almost subconsciously, discouraging any direct physical contact with Xander, and it wasn't long before he mentioned it, one night soon after his birthday when he was staying at the flat.

"David, why don't you cuddle me anymore? Have I done something to upset you?"

I looked into his lovely face, and sighed, deeply.

"Anything but, sweetheart. It....it's me....that's the problem."

"How?"

"Well....you know, of course, that I'm a boylover, that's never been a secret between us, right back to that first afternoon in Greece." He nodded. "It's that....you....you're just at the age now that I find....almost irresistible. And because you're so....beautiful, and because of the emotional connection, the love, between us....I don't trust myself. I....I've never said this, I suppose, not in so many words, anyway, but....you're the most sexually attractive boy I've ever met, as well as being the nicest. Again, going back to what I said that day at the hotel, I never, ever want to hurt you, Xander, in any way. Will you promise me, if I ever try to do anything, or even say anything, that you're not 100% comfortable with, you'll tell me to stop straight away?"

"David, of course I promise. I've never said it, either, but I think you're a sexy man, too. I've thought, lots of times, about doing stuff with you, about what it would be like, especially since Robert and I have been sexy together. I know you don't want to, though, so, like it was with Robert, I'd never try and tempt you into something you don't want. I just want you to know....that I would, if you ever change your mind."

My eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, Xander, I didn't think I could ever love you any more than I did already, but you've just proved me wrong. But you're right, I still don't want to have sex with you, because it would, or at least could, destroy everything. Your love, your friendship, is far more important to me than a few moments of physical pleasure."

"Can we still cuddle, though, David, please? At least sometimes? Because I still love you, and you still love me."

I wordlessly opened my arms to my boy, and we melted together in a timeless, but chaste embrace.

At length, we broke apart, and gazed into each other's eyes.

"You're going to find someone all your own, David, I just know it. I don't know how or when, but you will. And you deserve to."

The tears that I'd been desperately holding back for the past minutes overflowed. I hoped, wished so much that what Xander had said would prove to be true, but I simply couldn't envisage how it could ever come about.

****

I'd known for some weeks that Xander wanted to come down to Cornwall again in the half-term holidays at the end of October, and I'd had preliminary discussions about it with Harry and Julia. They didn't have any specific plans, and were leaning towards my boy coming to visit me again, although they were still keeping their options open as the school break approached. It wasn't entirely a surprise, then, when Harry rang me in the middle of the month, but his opening gambit wasn't something I'd been expecting.

"David, are you free this evening?"

"Yes, I hadn't made any plans."

"Good - Jim Sheldon wants to speak to you. Robert has apparently been plaguing him and Helen day and night about going to Cornwall with you and Xander. He wants to talk about it without the boys being around. Where would suit you to meet up?"

"I'll come down to you, it's easier for one to travel than two. I could meet you in your local, if you like."

"Yes, fine, if that's OK with you. 7:30-ish?"

"No problem. See you later."

I duly arrived at the pub at the agreed hour, and, shortly thereafter, the three of us were sitting at a quiet table in the corner of the bar, sipping at our pints. Jim gave the impression of wanting to speak out, but perhaps being uncomfortable about how his words would be received, and it proved that my impression wasn't mistaken.

"David," he began hesitantly, "Harry's mentioned to you, I believe, that my lad wants to go down to your cottage with Xander, in the holidays." I nodded, without comment. "If he was to go, what....what would the sleeping arrangements be?"

"I have a two bedroom place, there are twin beds in the guest room, which is where the boys would be staying."

There was another obvious hiatus, and the man looked down at his glass, as though the contents were infinitely fascinating.

"David....I know you and Xander are very close. Has....has he said anything to you about his....relationship with Robert?"

I looked the man in the eye. "Jim, if Xander has said anything to me, it's in confidence. He's my friend, probably my closest friend, and I would never betray his trust, any more than I'm sure you would in similar circumstances. I hope you can understand that."

"But....but he's just a child!"

"That's irrelevant. I've always treated Xander as an equal, and I have every intention of continuing to do so. He does know, that if I became aware of anything that was harming him, I'd be obliged to tell his parents, but, beyond that, I'd never pass on anything he's said to me, on any subject, without his permission."

The man turned to Harry. "Are....are you happy with this situation?"

"Julia and I have spoken to David at length about his friendship with Xander, and we don't have any concerns. If we had, Xander wouldn't have been allowed to visit David at Easter, or to stay over at the flat, that goes without saying."

I had little doubt about the issue that Jim was skating around, but I wasn't going to put the words in his mouth. The ball was firmly in his court, something he seemed to realise. He regrouped, and spoke again.

"We....Helen and I....have some....concerns....about our son, and....Xander. Can I speak frankly, David?"

"Of course, Jim, no point in beating about the bush."

"The....the last time Xander stayed at our house, as I was going to bed, I heard....sounds from Robert's room. I might have been mistaken, but....I...." He flushed with embarrassment. "I....think something....sexual might have been....going on."

I offered no comment, simply waiting for him to continue.

"I....I know the boys have said that....that they love each other, but we....thought it was just a....phase, a crush. I know boys sometimes....go through these sorts of phases, but then, when their....hormones kick in, they....move on to girls."

"And you're concerned that this 'moving on' hasn't happened?" The man nodded. "Everyone is an individual, Jim, we are what we are. Have you considered the possibility that there isn't any 'moving on' to be done?"

"What are you saying? That Robert is....gay?" The last word of the sentence was more spat out than spoken, like a cat coughing up a furball.

"Jim, I have no idea whether your son is gay or not, I simply don't know him well enough to be able to offer a worthwhile opinion. I do know, though, that Robert and Xander are very, very important to each other at the moment, anyone who pays any attention should be able to see that clearly. How that is expressed is, as far as I'm concerned, entirely their business."

"But....but it's wrong!" Jim exclaimed. "They're young boys, they shouldn't be having any sort of sex at their age, let alone....that sort of thing."

"Jim, you asked if I minded your speaking your mind, I hope you'll extend me the same courtesy." He said nothing. "Harry's already aware of this, so I have no concerns about raising this issue in his presence. I was at boarding school as a boy, and I was sexually active at a younger age than Xander and Robert are now, so it would be utterly hypocritical of me to condemn them in any way, if that is what they've chosen. I haven't continued that activity into adulthood, but from when I was 11 until I was 17, it was a part of my life, and a part that I greatly enjoyed. There were boys that I engaged with who were 'going through a phase', as you put it, and who've gone on to marry and raise families, but there were others for who being gay was who they were, and how they've remained. Which category Robert and Xander fall into, it's too early to say. I have my view, but it's only an opinion, and not one I want to discuss, because I could very well be wrong. Ultimately, your son, like anyone else, is who he is, and I can tell you, from long personal experience, that simply wishing him to be different is never going to change that one iota."

"We....we have our beliefs, David. What you're suggesting is simply immoral, and I won't have my son....following that kind of....lifestyle."

For a moment, I teetered on the brink of completely losing my temper with the man, but, with a considerable effort, and a few deep breaths, managed to stay in control.

"I wouldn't presume for a moment to lecture you on how to raise your son, Jim, I'm not a parent and almost certainly never will be, but I can tell you that if you try and impose your views on Robert against his wishes, and especially against his nature, you'll be the father of one very, very unhappy boy. I had, as I told Harry some time ago, a schoolfriend who attempted suicide because of the pressure his family put him under to be other than who he was. I'm not suggesting Robert would necessarily do such a thing, but the old cliché about 'square pegs and round holes' isn't without foundation, in this area of life as much as any other."

Jim's face had set into a grim mask, as he continued. "You're entitled to your opinion, but you're wrong, as far as I'm concerned. Robert is a child, 12 years old, and he'll do as he's told. When he's an adult, he can go his own way, and live his own life, if that's his choice. In the meantime, he can abide by our rules, our beliefs. If that's not good enough for him, that's just unfortunate."

I could hold back no longer. "If your beliefs are more important to you than your son's happiness, then I'm afraid I find that totally unconscionable. If you try and force him to be something he's not, you'll ruin his life. If he still has a life."

The man glared at me, and stood up. "This discussion is over. Goodnight."

He stalked away from the table, towards the exit. I looked at Harry, appalled. He looked no happier than I. At length, he spoke.

"I knew Jim and Helen were....strait-laced, shall we say, but I certainly didn't expect him to react like that. I'm sorry, David, I wouldn't have dragged you into this if I'd known."

"It's not your fault, Harry, there's no way you're responsible for his antediluvian attitude. What concerns me now, though, is that he'll try and separate Xander and Robert. It will break both of their hearts."

Harry nodded, sadly. "I know. I'll try and talk to him again, and maybe to Helen, in a day or two, when he's had the chance to calm down. We're old friends, we've known them ever since the boys started at primary school together. I don't see any good coming of this, I remember all too well how Xander was this time last year, when he couldn't see you." He paused. "David....are the boys....sexually active, do you know?"

"Harry, I'm sorry, but what I said to Jim applies equally to you. If Xander was in danger of being harmed, I'd tell you anything I knew at once, but, that apart, it's not my place to say. The only harm I can see Xander coming to at the moment is from the Sheldons' direction, I'm afraid."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see what happens, I suppose. And I do respect your attitude towards Xander, David, that he relates to you, and you to him, in such an adult way. I need to speak to Xander myself, I guess."

"That would be best, Harry, I'm sure. If you approach him, as far as possible, as an equal, as I know you normally do, I'm convinced things would go well enough. He's a truthful boy, as you've said several times."

We finished our drinks, and went our separate ways. I'd only been back in the flat for a few minutes when my phone rang. I wasn't at all surprised that Xander was on the line, his voice full of emotion.

"David, what happened? Daddy's just told me that Robert's dad has said we can't see each other anymore. They're going to send him away to that boarding school after half-term." The boy broke down. "W....why, David, I....I don't understand, they knew about us before, what....what's changed?" he stuttered through his tears.

"I wish I had a sensible answer for you, darling, I really do. All I can say is that they seem to be reacting rather than thinking, Jim was going on about 'beliefs' and 'lifestyles'. Your dad said he was going to speak to Robert's parents again in the next couple of days, maybe your mum can get involved, too. Beyond that, there's not much I can say, and nothing I can do. After tonight, I don't think there's any chance they'll speak to me."

"I want to see you, David, right now," Xander sniffled.

I was on the point of telling him it was too late - it was almost 10:00 - but, at that moment, the boy dissolved into wracking sobs. "Put your dad on the phone, please, Xander."

Within two minutes, I was in my car - I'd only had one drink earlier in the evening, and that had been a good two hours before - and on my way through the thankfully light evening traffic towards Xander's home. In less than forty minutes, I was pulling into their drive. Harry met me at the door.

"He's inconsolable, David, I've never seen him like this, even as a baby or toddler. If you....can do anything for him, I'll be so grateful." He ushered me towards the lounge. Julia emerged from the room.

"Thank you for coming over, David," she said. "I'm not thinking of sending Xander to school in the morning, I don't think he'll be in any fit state. It's Friday tomorrow, anyway, it won't hurt for him to have the weekend extended by a day. The bed's made up in the spare room, you know where it is. You're more than welcome to stay, it's late already."

"Thank you, Julia. I'll go in and see him, just play it by ear."

"We'll leave you to it, David," Harry added quietly. "See you later."

As I walked into the lounge and noiselessly closed the door, I could see Xander curled up, almost in a foetal position, on the sofa, his back to me. I walked over, knelt beside him, and laid a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

"Hi, sweetheart."

The boy turned towards me, his face tear-stained, his eyes red-rimmed.

"H....hello, David." The tone of his voice seemed much younger than usual, almost little-boyish, as though he'd undergone some kind of regression over the previous hour. "Thank you for....for being here."

"Anything I can do for you, you know I always will."

Just for a second, I thought Xander was about to smile, but it was stillborn, and more tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes.

"Ssshhh, darling, don't cry. I can't tell you everything will be alright, because I don't know what's going to happen, any more than you do, but I can tell you that your mum and dad, and I, will do whatever we can to try and make things right."

"I....I'm never going to see Robert again!" Xander wailed. "That's what his dad said to Daddy on the phone, that....that it would be over his dead body. He hates me!"

"Xander, let's not overthink the future. We don't know what will happen. Give me a hug, please."

"I....I'd like that. Will you....lay down here with me?"

"Of course. Let me lay down first, and then you can snuggle."

We briefly rearranged ourselves, me laying on my back with my head propped on the armrest and a couple of cushions, with Xander half lying on top of me, his head on my shoulder, his body sprawled across my left hand side. I stroked his back and his hair gently, lovingly, and it wasn't long before I became aware of his breathing slowing and becoming more regular. He had fallen asleep, worn out by his distress. Despite the physical closeness, I wasn't even slightly aroused, and was almost dozing myself after a few more minutes, but was roused from my torpor by the door being opened. It was Harry.

"How is he?" the man whispered.

"All cried out, for the moment," I replied at a similar low level. "I'll stay here with him for the moment, if that's alright with you. I can take him to his room later, if that's what he wants."

"Of course, that's fine. Just seeing him peacefully asleep is a relief, I can tell you. Thank you again, David, for being here for Xander."

"It really isn't a problem, Harry. Anything Xander needs, that I'm able to give him, I'd never hesitate."

"I know, and we're grateful, I can assure you. Goodnight, David."

"Goodnight".

In the event, Xander hardly stirred until almost 7:00 the following morning. I'd managed to sleep fitfully, as well, although I had spent some indeterminate time, maybe an hour, in the middle of the night, lying awake mulling over the implications of the previous evening's events. Given his age, Robert's parents did indeed have the option to completely control his life, and the legal authority to exercise that control, and if they were determined to keep the boys apart, there was little anyone else could do, for several years, at least. I simply couldn't come to terms, though, with the notion that they were prepared to totally sacrifice their son's happiness to some belief system, almost certainly religiously based, and hoped that the light of a new day, and cooler heads, might lead them to see the situation from a different perspective.

Xander opened his eyes, and blinked sleepily, as though trying to work out where he was, and why.

"Oh, David, sorry, I fell asleep on you. What time is it?"

"Just coming up to 7:00. Don't worry, I fell asleep, too. We've been here all night."

The boy suddenly looked worried. "But, Mummy and Daddy....." he began, before his voice tailed off.

"It's not a problem, they know. They were just concerned that you got some sleep, which you have. How do you feel?"

"OK, I suppose. I'd better start getting ready for school."

"I think your mum was going to let you have the day off, that's what she said last night. Stay here with me a bit longer, I'm enjoying snuggling with you."

"I need....a pee. I'll be back in a minute."

I took the opportunity to stretch some of the stiffness out of my muscles, before Xander returned and resumed his previous position.

"Are you going to stay today, David?"

"I hope so, if it's OK with your mum and dad. I'd like to keep you company, if you want me to."

"I'd like that, too. I can....talk to you more easily than to Mummy and Daddy, sometimes."

Xander's face suddenly changed, as though sadness had laid a hand on his shoulder. He seemed close to tears once more.

"I wish....I knew what was going....to happen, David. If....if I can't see Robert anymore, I....I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I know it's difficult, Xander, but try not to upset yourself all over again. I know what it's like, I really do - that night in Greece, I cried and cried when I didn't think I was going to see you again, but things have worked out, haven't they?" He nodded. "So, let's not think of the worst, eh? We don't know what's going to happen, I agree, but that doesn't mean it has to be bad."

At that point, Julia opened the door a crack, and looked in.

"How are you, guys? Would you like some breakfast?"

"Good morning, Julia. Some coffee would be nice, if that's OK. What about you, Xander?"

"Could I have tea and toast, please, Mummy?"

"Will do. I'll call you when it's ready."

A few minutes later, as we sat in the kitchen, Harry appeared, ready to head up to London for a meeting.

"Xander would like me to stay with him today, is that OK with you and Julia?"

"Certainly. I should be back by early afternoon, perhaps we can go out somewhere later." The boy looked at his father earnestly.

"Thank you, Daddy, for letting David be with me. He makes me feel better."

"You're welcome, young man. Well, gentlemen, I'd better go and join the happy throng of commuters. I'll see you both later."

Xander and I washed up the breakfast things, before I availed myself of the bathroom facilities for a quick shower. The morning was quiet, our old staple, backgammon, coming to the fore, although, for quite a bit of the time, all Xander wanted to do was to sit beside me on the sofa, curled into my side, talking inconsequentially. In the latter part of the morning, Julia called me aside for a few moments.

"I'm going to go round to the Sheldons', David, Helen should be there on her own, I'll see what she has to say about all this. You boys help yourself to some lunch, when you're ready, I'll see you in a while."

In the event, Julia was back within half an hour, looking every bit as unhappy as Harry had in the pub the night before.

"It didn't go well, I assume," I said.

"That's an understatement. She wasn't even going to let me into the house, it was like she'd become a different person overnight. I tried to talk to her, to get her to think about the consequences, to remind her of what they'd said last year about loving Robert unconditionally, but her mind seems completely closed. I know they've become involved with some evangelical church over the past few months, but they seem to have taken it completely beyond reason - she started going on about our raising Xander sinfully, about how we were condemning him to hell, how we should be ashamed of ourselves, and that they weren't going to let Robert go the same way. It wasn't a conversation, it was a sermon, to be honest." Julia hesitated. "I....I'm sorry, David, she....she sent this back with me." She pulled the neck chain, the one I'd bought Robert for Christmas, from her pocket, and handed it to me. "She said....her family had no need of gifts from....homosexuals." Just at that moment, Xander came through into the hallway where I was talking to his mother. He saw what was in my hand, and instantly burst into wretched sobs. I guided him back into the lounge, and took him gently into my arms.

"Let it out, sweetheart. I'm here for you." After a minute or two, Xander began to calm down again. We sat back on the sofa.

"I really never will see Robert again, will I, David?" he said, when he was finally able to speak.

"I don't believe that, Xander, not for a moment. You and Robert are the two halves of the same pattern." I held the chain out to him. "This is a symbol of that pattern. Look after it for him, and one day, sooner rather than later, and I really do mean that, you'll be able to put it back round his neck."

"I....I don't know, David. I hope you're right, though, I love him so much."

"I know you do, sweetheart, and I know, and you know, that he loves you just as much."

"Is....is it just because....of sex that Robert's mum and dad have....done what they've done?"

"I don't know, Xander, I mean, they don't know for sure, unless Robert's told them, that anything has actually happened, and I doubt, from what I know of him, that he would have. I think it's more to do with their expectations, that Robert would be the same as them, the same as probably almost everyone they know. The idea that their son is 'different', different from those expectations, is one they don't seem to be able to cope with. And the fact that religion seems to be mixed up with it is making matters worse, because some religious people, particularly those who go to the sort of churches Robert's family do, seem to stop even trying to think about issues that differ from what they believe 'God' has decreed."

"What are they going to do to Robert?"

"Again, I really couldn't say. They've talked about boarding school, as you know, but I told Robert's dad last night that I had sex at school, so maybe that will change their minds about that, if they think he'll be heading off to some den of iniquity."

Almost in spite of himself, Xander smirked a little, the first time his mask of hurt had slipped since I'd arrived the night before. His serious mood was soon back, though.

"If....if they hurt him, I'll kill them!"

"Without wishing to sound flippant, Xander, I don't think that would be a good career move on your part. If they did hurt him, physically, at least, there are authorities who could intervene. Like I said last night, and earlier today, don't overthink this, don't assume the worst. Let's deal with the issues as they arise, without rushing off and doing anything....ill-advised."

The remainder of the day was calmer, Xander gradually relaxing a little, even smiling once or twice at things that came up in our conversation. He put Robert's neck chain in the case it had originally come in, along with his own, and placed the case carefully in the centre of his bookshelf.

"That's where they're going to stay, David, until the day I can give Robert's back to him. And so I never forget him, either."

"I don't think you'll ever forget Robert, sweetheart, but it's a lovely thought. That day will come sooner than you think, trust me."

Harry got back from London a little later than he'd been anticipating, but we still went out for an evening meal, to the local Chinese restaurant, as the pub would probably have reminded Xander too much of his absent friend, given that the previous time we'd been there was on his birthday. I stayed over another night, but Xander was pretty exhausted, and collapsed into his own bed relatively early. I wasn't in much better shape myself, and excused myself just after 10:00, gratefully slipping into the bed in their spare bedroom, sleeping like the dead until 8:00 on the Saturday morning, before finally making my way back to the flat after breakfast, as Harry and Julia already had plans for a family day, a visit to Xander's grandparents being on the agenda.

We met up in town on the Sunday for a couple of hours, as Julia had decided that it was time to buy Xander some new clothes, his latest growth spurt being in full swing, but, thereafter, our lives began to settle back into a more regular routine, the main difference being Robert's absence, and the fact that Xander seemed to want to spend hours talking to me on the phone every now and again. Until the morning I received a different kind of phone call altogether.

****

It was the Friday morning of half term week when my little used landline phone rang. Xander had decided, in the circumstances, that he didn't want to go to Cornwall after all, hoping, no doubt, for a reunion with his best friend, and I, in turn, had stayed at the flat, in case my boy needed me around. It was early, before 8:00, and I'd only been awake for a few minutes, so I perhaps wasn't as fully compos mentis as I might have been when I picked up the receiver.

"Hello."

"Mr Parrish. David Parrish?" A woman's voice, completely unfamiliar to me.

"Yes, that's me."

"This is PC Clarke, Metropolitan Police Child Protection Team."

I immediately felt a surge of panic rush through me, even though I knew I'd done nothing that could conceivably have attracted the attention of such an organisation. My voice no doubt wavered as a result.

"Y...yes, how can I help you?"

"Do you know a boy by the name of Robert Sheldon?"

"Yes, yes I do. He's the....best friend of the son of some friends of mine. Has something happened to him?"

"Robert has been reported missing by his father. He wasn't in his room when his parents went to check on him earlier this morning. It has been suggested to us that you may be a person he might try to contact."

"I....I'm afraid I can't help you. I haven't seen Robert for over a month, since....Alexander's birthday, Alexander is my friends' son, you understand. He has been to my flat once, earlier this year, he and Alexander stayed here after I'd taken them to an England match at The Oval. As far as I'm aware, Robert doesn't even know my phone number."

"Would it be convenient for some colleagues of mine to come and see you this morning, Mr Parrish, to ask you a few questions?" The policewoman's tone of voice suggested that I'd better make sure it was convenient.

"Yes, I'll be here." I confirmed my address with the woman, and she terminated the call. I rang Harry immediately.

"I've just had the police on the phone, Harry, have you heard about Robert?"

"Yes, I had Jim Sheldon on the phone about an hour ago, and the police a few minutes later."

"Does Xander know?"

"Not yet, he's still in bed. Why did the police ring you, anyway?"

"The policewoman who called said it had been 'suggested to them' that Robert might contact me. I can only assume that's come from Jim Sheldon, but why he should think Robert would come to me is anyone's guess. I like Robert, he's a really nice boy, but we hardly live in each other's pockets - even now, I've still only met him half a dozen times, or thereabouts. Anyway, the police are coming round here sometime soon, they say they want to ask me some questions. Obviously, I'm going to have to tell them the truth, or risk getting myself into legal hot water, so could you explain to Xander, if and when you tell him what's going on, that I might have to talk about some....private things, and that if anyone asks him anything, to just tell it as it is, and not think he has to 'protect' me in any way. My conscience is clear, and I'll make sure the police are made aware of that."

"I'm not looking forward to telling Xander what's going on, David. I'm afraid we'll be back to square one, back to the way he was a couple of weeks ago. OK, well, if we get any news, I'll let you know, and I'm sure you'll do the same."

"Certainly will, Harry. I'll speak to you later."

I'd barely had time for a quick shower and a cup of coffee when my entryphone buzzed.

"Sergeant Butler, Child Protection Team. I believe you're expecting us, Mr Parrish."

"Yes, come in."

Moments later, two uniformed officers, a female sergeant and a male constable, were in my lounge.

"Sit down, please. How can I help you?"

"Mr Parrish, I'm Sergeant Butler, and this is my colleague, PC Wadsworth. I understand you're aware that this visit is in connection with a report of a boy who has gone missing from his home, a boy I believe you're acquainted with, Robert Sheldon."

"Yes, as I told your colleague on the telephone, I know Robert, he's the best friend of the son of some friends of mine, Mr and Mrs Bellingham."

"Have you had much contact with Robert?"

"Not an enormous amount - I first met him just before Christmas last year, I took him and Alexander - the Bellinghams' son - Christmas shopping in Central London. I've seen him maybe half a dozen times since."

"When was the last time you had any contact with him?"

"Just over a month ago - it was Alexander's birthday, I met him and his parents for a meal, and Robert came along, too."

"Mr Sheldon mentioned that Robert had stayed here at your flat. What were the circumstances?"

"It was a pre-arranged thing - I took Alexander and Robert to an England cricket match at The Oval a few months back. Both sets of parents agreed that it would be more convenient for the boys to stay here overnight, as it's local to the ground, and then I took them home the following morning."

"What were the sleeping arrangements?" I was beginning to get the feel of a tendentious line of questioning, and my hackles were beginning to be raised.

"Well, this is a one bedroom flat, so the boys shared my bedroom, and I slept out here, on the sofa. It was all agreed ahead of time by both the Bellinghams and the Sheldons. Why do you ask, is there any relevance to Robert having gone missing?"

The policewoman's voice, already clipped and businesslike, took on a noticeably cold note.

"That's what we need to establish, Mr Parrish. It has been suggested to us that you have an unusually close relationship with Alexander Bellingham, and that you are a homosexual. It has also come to light that you gave Robert Sheldon an extremely expensive piece of jewellery, an item I believe his family returned to you as they considered it inappropriate."

Now I was genuinely angry, and my reply was easily as cold as the police officer's question had been.

"They didn't exactly fall over themselves to return it - it was a Christmas present, and they returned it two weeks ago. As you seem to me to be suggesting that this was some sort of act of 'grooming', I'll explain the exact circumstances. Xander....Alexander gave me his own gold chain as my Christmas present last year, and I wanted to buy him something nice to replace it. When I found something I liked, and that I believed Alexander would like, a platinum curb chain, to be exact, it was one of a matching pair, and the jeweller offered me a substantial discount if I bought both. I decided it would be nice for Alexander to have something he could share with his....best friend, so I did, indeed, buy the pair. It was purely a spur of the moment thing. Robert's parents raised no objection at the time, and I had no further contact with the boy for almost six months - I didn't see him again until mid-May, and then only at a barbecue at his house that I wasn't originally invited to, so another spur of the moment situation."

"So, Mr Parrish, leaving aside your gift to Robert Sheldon, you readily spent hundreds of pounds on a gift for Alexander Bellingham, who I believe was 12 at the time. Don't you think that it might be considered....unusual for a man to buy such a gift for an unrelated boy?"

"It seems to me, Sergeant, that you've 'left aside' any interest in locating Robert and ensuring his safety in favour of insinuating that I'm sexually abusing one of my closest friends. I don't deal in innuendo, so here is the truth. I love Xander, and I'm sexually attracted to him. He knows that, and his parents know that. And they know equally that I have no intention whatsoever of acting on that attraction. His parents have, in full knowledge of my attraction to their son, allowed him to both stay here, and to stay with me at my cottage in Cornwall for a week last Easter. I'm quite happy for you to speak to Mr and Mrs Bellingham and have them corroborate what I've just told you. My conscience is clear on this matter. Now, unless you have any further questions that are germane to what I would consider to be the priority here, finding Robert and returning him safely to his family, I suggest that you leave."

"Mr Parrish, I don't think you are doing much to help your case."

"What 'case' is that, exactly? If you think I've committed a crime, please have the courtesy to inform me, so I can arrange for legal representation. If not, please leave."

The woman fixed me with an icy stare. "I'm sure you will contact us if you have any information regarding Robert Sheldon, Mr Parrish. And I think it would be advisable if you didn't leave London without informing us. We may very well have further questions for you at a later date. My card, contact my unit direct on this number. We'll see ourselves out."

I was absolutely furious. Not only had the officers shown virtually no interest that I could detect in finding Robert, they were all but accusing me of abusing Xander. After allowing myself a few minutes to calm down, I rang Harry back, relating what had just happened in my own home.

"The bloody police!" I fumed. "They not only seemed to suggest I might have something to do with Robert's disappearance, but they more or less outrightly accused me of 'grooming' Xander for sex. And they've more or less threatened me that if I leave London, I'll be considered even more of a suspect. What happened to the presumption of innocence, has it been abolished while I wasn't looking?"

"Calm down, David, please. Don't worry, if they ask us anything about you, we'll tell them the truth, just as you have." After a longish pause, Harry continued. "As I feared, Xander has taken this very badly. He's not so tearful this time, but he looks almost as though he's in shock. Julia is going to take him to the doctor shortly, there might be something they can do for him. I....I don't know whether you might be able to come over later, David, perhaps for supper?"

"I'll have to see how things go, Harry - the attitude of the police while they were here seemed to be that they would have arrested me if they'd had the slightest pretext. If they turn up again and I'm not here, it might just give them that pretext. And, although it's a long shot, there is always the chance that Robert could come here. I'm sure he'll remember where it is. I'll call you again later."

I prowled around the flat for the next few hours, feeling under self-imposed house arrest, not knowing what was happening, or what might happen next. At length, I was seriously considering going to Xander's, and to hell with the police, but then, in mid-afternoon, my phone rang. It was Xander, almost beside himself with delighted excitement.

"He's safe, he's safe, David! Callum rang me, Robert's at their house. He's been out bus riding all day, and just turned up at theirs. I actually spoke to him!" My boy's mood dampened abruptly. "He....he doesn't want to go home, though, he says his mum and dad have been treating him like a prisoner, he's only been allowed out of the house to go to school or church, and his mum's been taking him to school and back in the car. He hasn't been to judo, or anything. They couldn't get him into that boarding school, but they still say he's got to go to a different one, after Christmas. It's hundreds of miles away, right up north, Robert says, out in the middle of nowhere."

"His parents aren't exactly on my Christmas card list at the moment, either. Because of what they seem to have said, I've had the police round here, more or less accusing me of abducting Robert and molesting you. I was spitting feathers, I can tell you! Look, Xander, I had to tell them....that I love you, and that I'm attracted to you, but that was all I said. I didn't say anything about you and Robert, because they didn't ask. If they do, though, I'd have to tell them the truth, you do understand that, don't you? I don't want you to think I'm breaching your trust."

"It's all right, David, Daddy explained that to me earlier. Are you going to come to supper, David? I'd like it if you could."

"Yes, I'd like that, too. Could you tell your mum and dad for me, please? I'll come over about 7:00, if that's OK - text me if it's any different, would you?"

"I will, David. See you later!"

I rang the police immediately after Xander hung up. Sergeant Butler herself answered the call.

"David Parrish. I presume you're aware that Robert Sheldon has turned up, safe and well, at his aunt and uncle's home?"

"Yes, his parents informed us a short while ago."

"Am I safe to assume that I don't need to furnish you with the details of my proposed movements any longer?"

"We don't anticipate any further questions at present."

"When can I expect my apology for your scurrilous accusations this morning?"

"Mr Parrish, I don't believe any accusations were made. We were just doing our job."

"And your job involves casting aspersions on innocent members of the public, does it?"

"We were acting on information we'd received in connection with an ongoing investigation. And I have to say that some of that information would give rise to suspicions in any reasonable person. I would recommend that you ensure your actions don't bring you to the attention of my unit again, Mr Parrish". Her tone was ominous.

"That, Sergeant, sounds like a threat to me."

"Good day, Mr Parrish." The line disconnected.

I was still thoroughly disgruntled as I walked from the station towards the Bellinghams' home later that evening. By the time I reached their front door, though, I knew I had to try and be my normal self as far as possible, for Xander's sake. The boy himself, as usual when I was expected, answered the door. He looked wide-eyed, almost excited, but not in his normal, effervescent way, his demeanour seemed more distrait, unfocused.

"It's all kicked off at Callum's, David!" Harry came into the hallway, looking almost as preoccupied as his son.

"Hello, David. There's certainly been some drama at this end, as Xander says."

"Why, what's gone on?"

Xander resumed his 'spokesman's' role. "Callum's mum rang Robert's family, and told them Robert was there. His dad went round to their house, but, when he got there, he didn't say anything, just walked straight up to Robert, grabbed hold of him and slapped him in the face, twice, really hard. He was going to hit Robert again, but Callum's dad stopped him, so Robert's dad hit him, instead. He must be completely loopy, going for Callum's dad, I'd rather fight a grizzly bear! Robert got away from his dad, and went and locked himself in the toilet, saying he was never going home again. Anyway, Robert's dad had really lost it, he was shouting and swearing, kicking and banging on the toilet door, saying Robert was his son and that if he wanted to beat him, it was his right, trying to hit Callum's dad again, even Callum's mum, so she called the police. When they came, Robert's dad started ranting and swearing at them as well, and still wouldn't calm down, so they arrested him."

Harry continued. "Helen has been on the phone to Julia, as well, saying this is all our fault, that if we hadn't 'associated with degenerates', Robert would never have got these ideas in his head, that we'd taken her son's innocence away, and we were all going to rot in hell as a result. I just can't believe that two people we've known for years, counted amongst our closest friends, could have changed so dramatically in such a short space of time. They've always been churchgoers, but just to the local C of E parish church, nothing like this 'fire and brimstone' stuff. And that school they're talking about sending Robert away to, I looked it up on the internet - Xander had the name of the place from Robert - it hardly seems like a school at all, from their website, it's more one of these American style 'pray away the gay' places, promising to 'bring God into the lives of confused young people', or words to that effect."

"What's happening to Robert now, do we know?" I asked.

"He's staying at Craig and Hazel's, certainly for tonight. I believe the police have got social services involved, they seem to consider that Robert would be in danger if he was to go home, and I have to say I agree."

"How is Robert himself?"

"He's been crying a lot, and he's got a huge bruise on his cheek, so Callum says," Xander replied. "I wanted to go and see him, but Daddy says it would be better to leave it until the social people have been. I'm going in the morning, though, I hope."

"We'll have to see what Craig and Hazel say, Xander, so don't build your hopes up too much," Harry said.

"I know, Daddy. I do want to see him, though, he said how much he'd missed me when I spoke to him earlier. It made me feel....guilty, I should have been there to protect him."

"Much as you love Robert, young man, there are limits to what you can and can't do, particularly at your age. Let's leave the authorities to do their job, shall we?"

The evening meal was, predictably enough, a subdued affair. Even Xander seemed introspective, and reluctant to say too much. Julia had taken another call from Hazel, confirming that Robert would be staying with them until at least Monday, when social services were going to try to arrange a round table meeting with Robert's parents - Jim had been released by the police, under caution, and gone home - and with herself and Craig, to look for a way forward. Robert had settled down a little, and was going to sleep in Callum's room, Callum would bunk in with Anthony for the weekend. Xander brightened considerably at the news that Hazel thought it a good idea for him to visit Robert the following day, something Robert himself had asked to happen, and it was good for me to be able head back to the flat knowing my boy was in good spirits.

The following evening, Xander rang me.

"I've been to see Robert, David. His face is a real mess, he looks like he's been in a boxing match. His dad really must have hit him hard. Callum's mum took him to the NHS drop-in place, they've said it's just bruising, though, and that it will get better in a few days. He....he's told me he....never wants to go home, never even wants to see his mum and dad again. Apart from not letting him go out for weeks, they've taken his computer and TV away, taken most of his books, apart from school books, and told him that he should just read the bible and pray all the time. He had to go to church with them about four times a week, twice on Sundays, and two evenings in the week, the preacher just kept ranting about sinners, how nearly everyone in the world was going to hell, and all that stuff. There was one time when the preacher went on and on about....gay people, about how disgusting and awful they are, how they should be....stoned to death, like it's supposed to say in the bible. Robert said he was terrified, because all the people there were agreeing with the preacher, he thought his mum and dad were going to say that he was gay, and that they'd stone him. Surely, that's not what God would want, is it?"

I'd read a fair amount on the internet about fundamentalist Christianity in the US, particularly as it related to gay issues, but I was shocked that such extremism seemed to have found its way into suburban London.

"I'm not surprised that he doesn't want to go home, if his life is like that. I've heard a saying, that good people will always do good things, and bad people bad things, but for good people to do bad things requires religion. This seems like a pretty good example of that, to me."

"When I've been to church, they always talk about God loving everyone," Xander said. "That church Robert's had to go to, they don't sound very loving at all."

"No, Xander, I think you're right. I know we haven't talked about religion much, but you do know I don't believe in God at all - I used to, but when I got older, maybe a couple of years older than you are now, and started thinking about the world, and how people were, social issues, if you like, I came to the conclusion that it was all down to the human race, that if God did exist, and showed any sort of love for people, he wouldn't allow the sort of cruelties that go on. I don't know I'm right, of course, and I would never try to tell anyone else what to believe, that's purely a matter for individual conscience, but when some people claim God said this or that, and say that everyone has to live their lives in exactly that way and no other, that's when I get thoroughly annoyed."

"I don't think Robert believes in God anymore, David."

"Well, who could blame him, in the circumstances. At least he's safe and well for the moment, and you've been able to see him, too."

Even over the phone line, I could hear the smile in Xander's voice. "Oh, yeah, it was great! We sat in Callum's room for about two hours, just talking. We had a little kiss and cuddle, too, but that was all. I've given him....his chain back, too, he can wear it while he's at Callum's, at least."

"Didn't I tell you you'd be able to return it to him? That's really great! Are you going to be able to see him again soon?"

"Tomorrow, I think, as long as he's feeling alright. Callum's mum is going to ring in the morning."

"Give him my regards when you do see him, and tell him that I hope I'll be able to catch up with him soon."

"I will, David. I'll ring you tomorrow, if that's alright, and let you know what's happening."

"You know you can ring me whenever you like, sweetheart. I'll look forward to your call."

"Thanks, David. Love you!"

"Love you too. Hear from you soon."

****

Perhaps predictably, the meeting between social services and Robert's family didn't go well. Harry had called me on the Monday evening, after he and Julia had heard of the outcome from Hazel.

"Jim had to be escorted off of the premises by security, apparently," Harry told me. "He accused the lead social worker of being a Satanist, and said that the authorities had kidnapped his son. He turned up at Robert's school, afterwards, seemingly with the intention of taking the boy away with him, but Robert hadn't gone in because his face is still looking so knocked about - he was with us, actually, while Craig and Hazel were at the meeting. The poor little fellow is scared stiff of the prospect of being sent back to his parents - as you know, he's not the most outgoing of boys at the best of times, but he seems to gone into his shell even more over all of this. For the moment, Craig and Hazel have been given temporary custody of Robert, but they haven't got a spare room, so the council are not keen on the arrangement becoming long-term, even with the family relationship - if it becomes a formal fostering arrangement, the foster carers are supposed to have a room for the exclusive use of the child, according to their rules. There's another meeting being arranged for next week, seemingly."

"Jim knows where Robert is, though, obviously - what's to stop him harassing Craig and Hazel?"

"Part of his police caution, when he was arrested the other day, was that he's not allowed within a quarter of a mile of their home, if he breaches that, he could be arrested again."

"Do you think that would deter him - he seems to be pretty unstable at the moment. It makes me wonder how safe Robert actually is."

"Who can say, David - when someone has changed as much as Jim Sheldon has, all bets are off. At least Craig is around most of the time - he's working from home for the time being - and I know Hazel wouldn't hesitate to get the police involved again, if necessary. Short of Robert being shipped out to some secret address, there's always going to be the possibility that his father would try and get access to him, I suppose. I can only presume that the authorities have that scenario on their radar."

"Did Craig and Hazel tell social services about this so-called 'school' that Robert was due to be packed off to, and about the church that his parents are mixed up with?"

"I believe so - Robert apparently told the social workers quite a lot of what had gone on when they visited on Friday, as well. That, as much as Jim's behaviour, was what led to them leaving the boy with Craig and Hazel, it seems."

"It makes you feel so helpless, watching this kind of thing from the sidelines. Robert is such a nice person, once you get to know him, it's heartbreaking to see his life being pulled to pieces because of something that's no fault of his own. It makes me wish I could just give him a hug and tell him everything will be alright, but, of course, that's simply not possible, because no-one yet knows how this will pan out."

"Well, he's as safe as he can be for the moment, at least - I think Hazel is going to keep him away from school for another couple of days, until the bruising starts to fade a little, but then he will at least have that element of stability, of routine, back in his life. For the rest, we're in much the same position as you, looking on and wondering where it will all end."

"I guess so. Anyway, Harry, thanks for the update. I'll speak to you soon."

****

"It was a brilliant idea of mine, wasn't it?" Xander said, smiling.

We were sitting in the Bellinghams' conservatory on Christmas afternoon, as the dusk of a bright, but chilly festive day was falling, all of us replete with food and drink.

"It's worked out rather well, hasn't it - I told you it would, but you didn't want to believe me, did you?" I replied.

"Well....it did look pretty bad, at the time."

In the immediate aftermath of Robert's running away from home, events took a number of turns, some, perhaps, expected, others much less predictable. Jim Sheldon did, indeed, turn up on Craig and Hazel's doorstep, the day after the social services meeting, threatening all manner of dire consequences for them, temporal and spiritual, unless Robert was handed over to him forthwith. The police were called, but Jim made off before they arrived. It wasn't many days later, though, that he was arrested again, this time after haranguing staff and passers-by outside the council offices, rambling incoherently about devil worship in the council chamber and the 'end of days', ultimately being detained under the Mental Health Act. Even after Jim's breakdown, because such it seemed to be, Helen was still trying to regain custody of her son, to 'save his soul' as she described it at a family court hearing, her stated intention being to send Robert to be 'reeducated' and to have his 'perversion' cured by the power of prayer. When her suit was unsuccessful, she settled down to a regular guerrilla against Hazel and her family, hardly a day going by without their receiving e-mails and texts full of abuse and more or less veiled threats - she even buttonholed Paul in the street and told her nephew his parents were agents of Satan, and that he should tell the authorities that they were sexually abusing him so that he and his siblings could be 'saved'. In the light of such behaviour, and the boy's own wishes, there was no prospect of Robert going back to either of his parents, but the issue of where he would be sent was still unresolved. The council social services department were adamant that he couldn't be fostered by his aunt and uncle because of the accommodation situation, and were getting close to removing Robert from their home and placing him in council care as Christmas approached. Until a suggestion was made, of a local family who he was both comfortable with, and who had the space necessary to meet the council's requirements, a suggestion that was met with more or less immediate approval on all sides, apart from that of Helen Sheldon.

"It's good now, though," said a small, quiet voice, the voice of another smiling boy. "I'm where I want to be, and I'm really happy to be here."

"And I'm so happy with my new foster brother, too," Xander said, with a smile that seemed bigger than was physiologically possible. "Robert Sheldon, my foster brother - and still my best friend, and my love!"

"Could you have written the script better, Xander?" I asked archly.

"Only if it ends 'happy ever after' - for us, and for you, too, David."

"You guys look after each other, that's what matters. I'm fine with what I have, I promise you. I've got someone, someone very special, who I love, and who loves me back. That, really, is all I've ever wanted."

"David, I'll love you always, I promise," Xander said, his voice wavering with emotion.

"And I'll always love you, sweetheart. Happy Christmas!"

****

While Harry and Julia were comfortable enough financially, they weren't rich, by any means - Xander, for example, attended a state grammar school, and had never been in private education - so that when it became clear that the Sheldons weren't going to contribute anything to Robert's upkeep, they were faced with a dilemma. Robert was happy, and doing very well academically, at the independent day school he attended, but the fees were far from cheap, and would stretch the Bellinghams' resources almost to the limit. They did enquire about Robert going to the same school as Xander, but there was a substantial waiting list for any places which became available, so that wasn't an immediate option, either.

"It's going to be a problem," Harry confided to me one evening when I'd met him for a drink. "The council pay a certain amount each month, but that really only meets Robert's basic needs, food, clothing and so on. It certainly doesn't stretch to school fees. We can probably meet next term's bill, but, beyond that, I really couldn't say."

"It would be such a shame for him to have yet another upheaval in his life," I said. "I remember you saying that you've already enquired about grammar school places, without success, and I really don't think Robert is the kind of boy who would thrive in a comprehensive school." Harry nodded his agreement. "I don't know whether the council would approve such an arrangement, but I would be happy to take on Robert's educational expenses, the fees, uniform, trips, whatever. Do you think we could find a way of making it feasible?"

"We can but ask, David - I know we'd be grateful of your help, and I'm sure Robert would, too."

"Robert wouldn't need to know, I wouldn't have thought - I don't want him to feel he's indebted to me in any way, and I certainly don't want Sergeant Butler and her ilk flinging accusations about 'grooming' in my direction again. If the council are willing to consider the proposal, I could, perhaps, set up some sort of trust fund for Robert, dedicated to his education. The boy would simply be able to carry on as hitherto, without having to worry about the financial apparatus behind the scenes, as would, no doubt, have been the case if he'd still been with his parents."

The local council were, to say the least, cautious about my proposition, and insisted on some pretty exhaustive, bordering on intrusive, background checks, but the lead social worker in Robert's case eventually approved the arrangement, leaving me to meet with my accountant, and Robert's school, to put the necessary structures in place. I offered to do the same for Xander, but his parents politely demurred, saying that both they and Xander were more than happy with the school he was at, and the education he was receiving there, although they were willing to accept my contribution towards a few 'extras', such as updating his cricket gear for the forthcoming season. As I'd hoped, the process was seamless, from Robert's perspective, neither he nor Xander ever becoming aware of what had been done until after they had reached adulthood.

If that aspect of Robert's life remained stable, what remained of his original family life disintegrated completely over the following months. Jim had been in and out of hospital for some time, his mental state, from what we heard later, fluctuating between near normality and complete breakdown almost from week to week. He finally fell victim to his demons when, during one of his periods at home, he once more decided to take himself to the local council offices, with a view, apparently, to killing Robert's social worker. He only made it at far as the reception area, brandishing a large kitchen knife, before being chased from the building by security staff, running into the road outside and being struck by a car. He hovered between life and death for several days, before succumbing to his injuries, ironically enough, on Easter Sunday. After the funeral, which Robert steadfastly refused to attend, saying that he'd lost his 'real' dad months before, Helen sold the family home, and all its contents, including what remained of Robert's things, giving the proceeds to her church, before moving into a small flat the church provided as payment in kind for work she undertook for them, severing all remaining ties with her son, her sister and all other family members. In a long, final e-mail to Craig and Hazel, she pronounced that they had interfered with 'God's plan' for her son, and that they would reap the consequences, as would he. The only small silver lining was that the Bellinghams managed to get hold of some paperwork, such as Robert's birth certificate and passport, which the Sheldons had refused to hand over to the authorities earlier in the piece, things which could have been replaced, but not without jumping through numerous bureaucratic hoops.

As summer approached, and with it Robert's thirteenth birthday at the end of June, we began to discuss what we might do over the course of the school holidays. In contrast to my wandering lifestyle over the preceding decade, I'd barely left the country for the previous eighteen months, and, of that time, I'd actually spent a substantial majority in London, something I would have said would never happen again in my life, prior to meeting Xander.

"I fancy going somewhere sunny again," Xander was saying one evening as we sat in the Bellinghams' garden after a cricket match at the local club where my boy had once more swept the opposition aside with his batting skills. "It's two years, nearly, since we went to Greece."

"I don't know if I really want to sit around pools and beaches for a fortnight, Xander," his mother replied.

"We didn't sit around for the whole time in Greece - we could find a place where there are other things to do as well."

"You're the traveller, David," Julia said to me. "Have you got any ideas, somewhere not too far-flung and where not everything centres on the beach?"

"I quite like the Canary Islands - if you stay away from the big tourist resorts, there are some really nice, and really interesting places. And the weather's more or less guaranteed - only being a hundred miles or so off the coast of North Africa, it's pretty much a Saharan climate, but tempered by sea breezes. The best of both worlds, really."

"I don't know - maybe I'm out of touch, but I always think of 'lager louts' when I hear about the Canaries."

"Tenerife had that reputation many years ago, but I haven't heard of much trouble out there of late, and I've never seen anything untoward myself. I wouldn't say nothing of the sort ever goes on, but I don't think it's widespread, and, once again, if you're outside of the main resorts, I doubt it would ever have been a problem."

"Let's have a look on the computer, Mummy," Xander said. "I definitely like the idea of somewhere that the sun shines every day. You could come with us, too, David, that would be fun!"

So it was that, early on the first Monday of the school summer holidays, I met up with Robert, Xander and his parents at Gatwick to fly out to Las Palmas. We'd eschewed the package holiday option, booking flights, car hire, and accommodation independently, the accommodation being two cottages within a small complex based on what had originally been a farm in the central hills of Gran Canaria, well off of the beaten tourist track, but close enough by car, or even by the intermittent local bus service, to the attractions of what wasn't an especially large island. We'd taken a one bedroom cottage for Harry and Julia, and a two bedroom for the boys and I, and they both proved to be well-modernised and comfortable, while the complex as a whole boasted a large swimming pool, which Xander in particular was very pleased to see, and a small, but good-quality restaurant and bar where we ate several times during our stay, although we had, and used from time to time, self-catering options in the cottages as well.

Many of the days, we set out together in the car on expeditions to various attractions, some historical - there was a strong Christopher Columbus connection to the island, amongst other things, including a Columbus museum in Las Palmas - some more attuned to the interests of two early teenage boys, such as a huge water park in the south of the island.

Having done some research about the island before we set out, Julia expressed her complete disinterest in visiting the main resort, Playa del Inglés, but Xander, and to a lesser extent Robert, wanted to at least have a look at it, so on the Tuesday of the second week, the boys and I set out after breakfast by local bus to spend the day there, leaving Harry and Julia to head out for an excursion of their own, including lunch at a very nice restaurant I'd been able to recommend to them. Xander, it seemed, had been undertaking some research of his own, because less than five minutes into the bus journey, he turned to me, a sly smile on his lips.

"Is it true that Playa del Inglés has a lot of gay places, David?"

I'd been to the resort a couple of times, enough to know my way around the central area, but I was no expert on the place, still less on the 'gay scene', something I'd never been involved in, even at home, and said so. "I think there's one or two of the shopping centres, one in particular, where there are quite a few places, bars and things, but that would mainly be at night, it's just pretty much a regular shopping place during the day, as far as I can remember."

"Can we go and see it, though?"

"I don't see why not, it's hardly a den of vice, especially at this time of day."

Xander turned to Robert, smiling, and took hold of his boyfriend's hand.

"See, there are places we can go, darling, where we can be ourselves. It'll be even better when we're a bit older, then we can go to the bars and nightclubs and stuff, too, and nobody will care if we love each other."

Robert looked adoringly at the beautiful boy by his side. "I don't care now what people think, I just want to be with you for ever, Xander."

"That's exactly what I want, too! I love you, Robert, and I will for always." They kissed briefly, oblivious to all else, before realising they were very much in public, pulling apart hastily.

"Don't worry, guys, we've got the bus to ourselves, apart from the driver. And he's smiling, look!"

And indeed he was, a genuinely warm smile.

"¿Los chicos, son novios, no?"

"Sí, señor," I replied.

"Son ambos muy guapos. Espero que tengan una vida feliz."

"Muchas gracias, señor."

Just then, the bus pulled up at another stop, and two or three passengers joined, bringing our brief conversation to an end.

"What did he say?" Xander asked, looking slightly concerned.

"Nothing bad - he asked if you two were boyfriends, and when I said yes, he said you're both very handsome, and that he hopes you have a happy life."

"Oh, that's really nice of him, isn't it?" Robert said.

Xander grinned mischievously. "Yeah! He was right about one thing, anyway - we are both very handsome!"

"And modest, Mr Bellingham!" I rejoined smartly.

"No point hiding your light under a bushel, as Daddy says!"

"Beware, smug boy, you'll be old and decrepit like me before you know it!"

"You're very well-preserved for your age, David!"

"Thanks - I think! That's definitely one from the book of back-handed compliments!"

"At least it is a compliment! Count your blessings!"

I ruffled my boy's hair gently. "I do, sweetheart, and you're one of the greatest of them."

"I know!" he giggled.

****

The day was stereotypically Canarian, hot, sunny and windy. We wandered around the resort for a couple of hours or so, stopping twice for cold drinks, then had lunch at a British owned bar/restaurant in the Gran Chapparal Centre, before I led the boys in the direction of the Yumbo Centre, the hub of the gay scene on the island. As I'd explained to Xander on the bus, though, there was little to see, in the early afternoon, apart from a series of shops and cafés catering to the general tourist market. The boys were determined to 'be themselves' while we were there, though, and held hands the whole time, earning one or two frowns from the more strait-laced elements, but far more smiles. They bought each other small gifts, Xander buying Robert a wallet in one of the leather goods shops, while Robert reciprocated with a rainbow tee shirt for his boyfriend, which Xander put on immediately.

"Well, I'm gay, and I don't care who knows it, especially not here," he said in answer to my questioning glance.

Xander leaned towards Robert, whispering into his ear, whatever he'd said making Robert blush a little, but not preventing him smiling shyly and nodding slightly. Robert put his lips to Xander's ear, whispering something in return.

"Both. All night!" I heard Xander murmur. Robert blushed even more deeply, but smiled more broadly and nodded more enthusiastically.

As they turned back to me, I smiled encouragingly, not wanting them to feel any embarrassment at expressing their love for each other. Xander picked up on my message. "Thank you, David, for always doing and saying the right thing. We won't disturb you, I promise."

I didn't trust myself to speak at that moment, feeling my emotions close to spilling over. I simply opened my arms to Xander, hugging him warmly.

"Me, too, please." Robert stood close behind his lover. For the first time, I hugged the small dark-haired boy, just for a few moments. "Thank you from me, as well, David. You're a very special person."

We caught the last bus, at 7:30, back up to the accommodation, arriving just as dusk was falling. As we made our way the few hundred yards from the bus stop down the little rural lane to the complex, the boys walked slowly with arms around each others' waists, love made manifest.

"Would you ever stay in Playa del Inglés, David?" Xander asked.

"Well, it's hardly my favourite place in the world, it's a bit too much of a concrete jungle for my taste, but I daresay I could manage it for a few days, a week, maybe."

"I'd like to stay there, maybe when Robert and I are a bit older, and can go out later at night. All three of us could do it, sometime, what do you think?"

"It's certainly a possibility - obviously, until you're adults, your parents would have to agree, but I can't see that I would have too many objections."

We arrived back at the entrance to the complex. Xander looked across at the parking area.

"Doesn't look like Mummy and Daddy are back yet."

"No, I told them not to rush. Your dad said that, depending on how their day went, they might stay over somewhere tonight, a hotel, or whatever, and come back here in the morning. They hadn't made any definite plans, though."

"Well, you've probably guessed already, Robert and I are going to have an early night, but I wouldn't mind a drink and a little snack first."

"Fine, let's go to the bar, then."

The bar offered a small selection of tapas, so we shared albóndigas, meatballs in a spicy tomato sauce, Canarian potatoes with mojo, and some local bread with alioli, washed down with water for the boys and a beer for me.

"Garlic overdose!" Robert laughed. "I bet we'll smell of it for a week. Especially that mojo stuff - was there anything other than garlic in that at all?"

"I think you guys might need to clean your teeth pretty thoroughly before bedtime! You don't want to be overcome by garlic fumes!"

"We're going to get showered and stuff in a minute, David," Xander said. "Are you sure you don't mind us leaving you on your own?"

"Course not, sunshine. We've had all day together, and I've really enjoyed your company, both of you. You're more than welcome to your private time. I'll stay here and have another drink, and then come back and read my book for a while. Your mum and dad might come back, anyway."

Xander stood, came to my side and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you, David. For everything. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Goodnight to you, too, Robert. Look after each other, won't you?"

"Always, and forever," Robert replied. "Night, David."

I watched as the two boys left the building, not holding hands, but with their fingertips just touching. I felt another surge of the melancholy-laden, bittersweet, happy sadness that their relationship often roused in me. Happy, nothing but happy for them, happy for myself, in being able to say that Xander loved me, and that he accepted my love for him, happy to be able to count Robert as a friend. But, always there like a cloud on the horizon, the nagging, inescapable sadness that I had never had, would never have, what they had between them. That perfect love, the soulmate. The impossible dream. All I could do was to sigh.

I allowed what I considered a decent interval for the boys to shower and retire to the privacy of their room, before returning to the cottage, collecting my book from my bedroom, and making my way to the little patio area to sit and read in the mild air of the later evening. It had been a long day, though, and it wasn't that long before my eyelids began to droop. There was still no sign of Harry and Julia, so I assumed they had found a place to stay for the night. As I made my way indoors and to my room, I heard something from the boys' room, something I hadn't heard before, and wasn't meant for me to hear, but which made me smile in a moment of undiluted happiness for my boy and his love. Xander's voice, low, but obviously in rapture.

"Oh, my darling, ooohhh yessss!"

I went to bed grinning, happy memories of my thirteen year old dorm room self at the forefront of my mind.

****

Returning to the UK after our holiday brought the predictable experience of several days of cool weather and rain, before the sunnier stuff kicked in again, with what had become, by British standards, a mini-heatwave holding sway for a couple of weeks in the second half of August. With Harry and Julia's blessing, I'd taken the boys to Cornwall for a few days, Robert's first visit to the cottage, and, indeed, to the Duchy, but Xander had wanted to be back at home before the beginning of the bank holiday weekend, because his club cricket team had an important game, a cup semi-final, on the Saturday morning, a game I'd decided I wanted to attend. Even at 10:00, as Harry dropped us off at the ground in time for the 10:30 start, it was already very warm, with Xander sporting a tee shirt and shorts. The shirt he'd decided to wear, though, was the rainbow one that Robert had bought him on holiday, and it wasn't long before it attracted attention. A tall, strapping boy with longish dark hair called out, an obvious sneer in his voice.

"What sort of shirt is that supposed to be? Have you gone queer or something over the holidays, Bellingham?"

Xander looked the bigger boy in the eye, answering without missing a beat. "No, I was gay well before the holidays, thanks, Clements! What's it to you, anyway, because I certainly don't fancy you, you donkey!"

A couple of the other boys in earshot laughed, Clements scowling darkly in their direction. "You wait till we get out there, Bellingham! I'll knock your faggot head off!"

"You're welcome to try, you tosser. We'll see who comes out on top, won't we?"

At that moment, the opposing coach appeared, ushering his charges towards the changing rooms. I looked at Xander, somewhat concerned.

"I think you've just outed yourself there, sunshine."

"I couldn't care less! Martin Clements is just a dick - he's in our school team, but he plays for this other lot at weekends. He thinks he's the next great fast bowler, and a hard man with it, but, actually, he's a load of crap! I hope he does bowl to me, he's easy to score off!"

"If he's at your school, though, I'm sure the story will get around."

Xander shrugged. "If it does, it does. They would've found out sooner or later, anyway, might as well get it over with."

"Well, I just hope you haven't opened yourself up to a load of trouble, that's all. I know you can look after yourself one on one, but these bullies usually try and tilt the odds more in their favour than that."

"Don't worry, David, I'll be fine. You've just got to stand up to people like him. And Robert's not involved, because he's not at our school anyway. I'd better go and get changed. See you later."

Xander's team won the toss, their captain deciding to bowl first. Xander's fielding had improved still further over the season and a half he'd been playing, and he was entrusted with patrolling the covers, an important position, particularly in a limited overs game like this one where the batting side was trying to score as quickly as possible. Xander dashed and dived around, saving numerous runs, and took one very straightforward catch off of a mistimed drive. Towards the end of the innings, Martin Clements came to the wicket, batting at number 9 for his team. He'd obviously said something as he was making his way out to the middle, because my boy had glared and mouthed a few words in return, but what, exactly, had passed between them I was too far away to discern. Clements faced his first delivery, and succeeded in dabbing the ball in Xander's general direction. The batsman at the non-striker's end called for a run, but Clements hesitated, just for a moment, a hesitation that proved fatal. Xander pounced like lightning, picking the ball up and throwing in one movement, scoring a direct hit on the stumps at the bowler's end, leaving Clements stranded a good five yards short of his ground. Run out, first ball, for a duck. Xander's teammates crowded around him, offering their congratulations, but Xander himself only had eyes for his adversary, smiling with obvious satisfaction.

The innings had closed shortly thereafter, with honours pretty much even - the batting side had posted a good score, if not a great one, a target that would offer something of a challenge to Xander and his colleagues. Their reply didn't start well, either, as they lost two quick wickets in the first couple of overs, the first taken by Clements, the second by the other opening bowler, leading to Xander, batting at his usual number 4 position, making his way to the crease much earlier than anticipated, with his side in some trouble at 7-2. Xander got off the mark with a single from his first ball, but as he reached the bowler's end, both he and the umpire had to take evasive action as the ball was thrown straight at him, by Martin Clements, needless to say. The umpire called the opposing captain over, as well as Clements, and issued a stern reprimand, but I could clearly see a humourless smirk on the boy's face as he turned away to return to his fielding position. The second over came to an end, leaving Xander to take strike at the beginning of the third, Clements being the bowler. The first ball was a ridiculously short attempted bouncer, which flew a good three feet over Xander's head, without his even having to make the slightest effort to duck, and was promptly called wide by the umpire. The second delivery was another bouncer, more accurate this time, whistling past at nose height as Xander simply swayed gracefully back out of harm's way. The umpire signalled, in accordance with the rules of limited overs games, that no further bouncers would be permitted in that over, and I saw my boy smile slightly from beneath his helmet. And with good reason, as Xander despatched the next three, increasingly erratic deliveries for two fours followed by a six straight into the pavilion. The opposing captain went to his bowler, and had a long talk with him, but Clements was undoubtedly in the grip of the 'red mist', trying to bowl much too fast, losing all control and accuracy as a result, only succeeding in presenting Xander with two further easy scoring opportunities, a two into the outfield, then another four to end the over, leaving him on 21, having only faced seven balls. Xander had a brief chat with his batting partner between overs, and the result of their deliberations was obvious, as Xander refused an easy single on the last ball of the fourth over, to ensure he would once again be taking strike against Clements. The result was even more spectacular than before, as Xander thrashed Clements' bowling to all parts of the ground, scoring 28, four fours and two sixes, from the six deliveries, the six he struck from the last ball of the over, straight back over Clements' head, the ultimate indignity for a fast bowler, bringing up his half-century in just 14 balls, smashing the previous record for the competition. The bowler was withdrawn from the attack, and banished to field in the deep, but the match was effectively over as a contest, Xander and his two further batting partners sedately making their way to the required total with almost ten overs to spare, my boy ending on 85 not out as his team won by five wickets. There were handshakes all round, with, unsurprisingly, one pointed exception. I was close enough, as the players approached the pavilion, to hear the exchange between Xander and his would-be nemesis.

"You wait until we get back to school, Bellingham, you'll wish you'd never been born."

"If you're expecting me to be scared of you, Clements, you've got a bloody long wait. What are you going to tell them, anyway, that you were run out first ball then smashed all round the ground by a gay boy? I bet that'll do wonders for your street cred!"

"You're dead, Bellingham! Make the most of your last few days!"

"Piss off, you tit! You're just making yourself look even more stupid than you normally do, and that's some achievement!"

Clements made as if to start towards Xander, but my boy was still holding his bat, and raised it in an obvious warning gesture. A couple of Clements' teammates, and three or four of Xander's, had seen and heard what was going on, and intervened to persuade their respective colleagues to head in the direction of the changing rooms. As he turned to go, Xander caught my eye, and grinned wickedly. I could do no more than to shake my head, hoping that he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

Later that day, Xander and I, along with Harry, were basking in the still very warm sunshine in the beer garden of their local pub, Robert having gone off to visit his cousins for the weekend, while Julia was on one of her periodic shopping and socialising trips with Alice. The match, and the events surrounding it, were the main topic of conversation.

"He's just full of cr....of hot air, Daddy," Xander was saying to Harry. "He's already been threatened with expulsion for trying to bully some Year 7 boys into giving him their dinner money, but even they weren't scared of him. If they're not, I'm definitely not."

"That's all well and good, Xander, but being openly gay, at your age, isn't going to be easy, you know that, don't you? There are still a lot of prejudiced individuals out there, and one of you against who knows how many of them could be a very uncomfortable position to be in."

"What else should I do, though, Daddy, pretend to be something I'm not? If they can't cope with who I am, that's their problem. If it meant that Robert was going to be involved, to be picked on, then I might keep quiet, but I don't see why I should have to hide because of a few losers like Martin Clements. And, anyway, it's not like I'm going to start wearing rainbow shirts to school, because I'd just be sent home if I did."

"What was your experience at school, David?" Harry asked.

"Well, you've got to bear in mind that it was thirty-odd years ago, for a start, but it was slightly different at boarding school, because quite a lot of the boys dabbled in sex with each other, although it was largely seen as being a product of the environment, the 'all boys together, going through a phase, no other outlet' thing, very few individuals were ever actually accused of being gay, even if some, ultimately, were. If you tried to kiss someone, especially if anyone else was around, that was seen as highly suspect, but, otherwise, as long as it was reasonably discreet, and, particularly, as long as no-one was coerced, not much was frowned upon."

"Were some of the people actually boyfriends, though?" Xander asked.

"In the way you and Robert are, you mean?" The boy nodded. "There were a few couples who nearly everyone knew about, but, by committing publicly like that, you were seen as admitting to being gay, rather than being able to pretend, like some did, that you were only doing what you did because there weren't any girls around. I did as much pretending as some of the others, especially when I got older, I have to admit, because I was always attracted to the younger boys, which was another no-no - the done thing was to stick to your own age group, or within a couple of years, at the most. That's why I stopped in the end, because I got accused, by one of my friends, ironically, of being a 'cradle-snatcher' when I was in the sixth form, and started to get involved with a junior boy, only 12 or 13. It made me realise that I was beginning to be judged by the standards of the adult world, and the fact that judgement was entirely negative."

"So, what do you think, David?" Harry asked. "Is Xander going to be at risk when he goes back to school?"

"In any school environment, and even in the 'adult' world, there will be those who want to single out those who they feel they can dominate, feel superior to, to try and make themselves look good by comparison, in many cases. Xander is a confident, upfront individual, and quite prepared to stand up for himself, to give as good as he gets, as per the 'war of words' after the game today. I would say he's putting his head above the parapet, but sometimes you need to do that to fire at the opposition, even if you get fired at yourself in the process."

"I don't see why I shouldn't be myself, Daddy, really. I'm not interested in anyone at school, I'm totally happy to be with Robert, I hope we'll stay together forever. It's nobody else's business, is it?"

"I agree with you, Xander, 100%. But it isn't me, or your mother, or David, that you've got to convince. Well, whatever else, the genie is out of the bottle now, we'll just have to deal with the consequences as they arise."

****

How prophetic Harry's words were, we would soon discover, but, in the meantime, the final of Xander's cricket tournament took place, at the relatively new county cricket ground in Beckenham. Apart from me - where else would I be, after all? - the whole family, even Julia, whose disinterest in sport of any kind was almost legendary, went along, to see Xander's team prevail in a nail-biting finish, even if the boy himself suffered one of his rare failures, only scoring 7 before succumbing to an unplayable delivery, although he did redeem himself with some excellent fielding, including a superb diving catch to dismiss the opposition's star batsman relatively cheaply. It was a memorable end to what had been a wonderful summer, Xander's first sporting honour soon taking pride of place on the mantelpiece in the lounge of his home.

Three days later, he returned to school, collective breath being held as to the sort of reception he might receive, but, after a couple of days when nothing beyond a few snide remarks had headed in his direction, everyone began to relax a little. That relaxation proved to be premature, though. I heard the story from my boy after the event.

On the Thursday lunchtime, Xander, along with most of his fellow pupils, was taking advantage of the still summery weather by spending his free time between the morning and afternoon school sessions on the playing fields. He was walking in the direction of a couple of benches under some trees near the cricket pavilion, with the intention of doing some of his homework, when Martin Clements, along with a couple of henchmen, approached him. There were a few other pupils around, including a couple of Xander's friends, but no-one else in the immediate vicinity.

"Well, if it isn't the school faggot," Clements sneered. "We've got some unfinished business, haven't we, Bellingham?"

Xander said nothing, continuing in the direction of the pavilion, until Clements stepped in front of him.

"I said we've got unfinished business, queer, are you deaf as well as bent? I'm not having some pretty boy fag dissing me, you're going to get yours, right now!"

"Why don't you go and try to steal some money from some new boys, that's all you're good for, you loser," Xander replied, unwaveringly.

"You reckon? Tell me that when I've cut your balls off and stuffed them down your throat!" Clements reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin-bladed craft knife. "Grab him, boys!" Clements ordered his cohorts. "He'll be a soprano forever once I've finished with him!"

The two boys with Clements hesitated, looking at the knife with trepidation, no doubt wondering what they'd got themselves into. Xander, seeing his chance and realising that there was no time for niceties, simply kicked Clements in the groin, as hard as he could. The taller boy folded up like a pocket ruler, collapsing to the floor choking and groaning, before vomiting onto the front of his uniform. The henchmen melted away more quickly than ice in a blast furnace, just as the teacher on supervision duty ran up, panting, having been summoned by two of Xander's classmates. It proved to be both Clements' form master, and Xander's maths teacher.

"Bellingham! What on earth is going on?"

"Clements pulled a knife on me, Mr Jessop, he said he wanted to castrate me. I kicked him before he had the chance to do it."

The teacher looked completely incredulous, but two or three other boys chimed in that they'd seen the knife, now lying on the ground beside the stricken would-be assailant, and had heard Clements threatening Xander. Two prefects had also arrived on the scene, and Mr Jessop turned to one of them.

"Take Bellingham to the headmaster, please, Mr Taylor. I'll follow as soon as I can, once I've dealt with Clements." The teacher took his mobile phone from his pocket, and as Xander was escorted away, he spoke to the school office, recounting what had taken place, asking for the police to be called and for another teacher to take over his supervision duties.

Harry was away giving a lecture in Manchester, so, an hour and a half later, it was Julia who was sitting in the headmaster's study, next to her son.

"We've heard from several pupils who we believe are credible witnesses, Mrs Bellingham, including the two boys who were with Martin Clements, and I'm satisfied that Alexander acted in self-defence. Because there's a knife involved, the police will have to investigate, it's a matter that both we and they take very seriously."

Xander looked shocked and upset. "Do the police have to get involved, Sir? I don't want Clements to get into that sort of trouble."

"I'm afraid so, Alexander. Don't blame yourself, please, Clements is in the position he is because of his own behaviour. If we tried to keep what had happened 'in house', the school itself could fall foul of the law."

"What will happen to this boy, Mr Stevenson?" Julia asked.

"Well, he'll undoubtedly be excluded from the school, almost certainly permanently. Beyond that, it's for the police and the local authority to decide, in conjunction with his parents." There was a loaded pause. "As to the situation that seems to have been the catalyst for this incident, I'd like to say that the school will not tolerate any kind of prejudice, whether that be due to race, religion, gender, or....orientation. I read the e-mail that your husband sent prior to the start of term, raising his concerns that Alexander might be the subject of some....hostility, and I can assure you that the issue is taken very seriously here. Alexander has the right to the same education, the same opportunities as anyone else who attends this school, and that, from my personal as well as professional perspective, is just as it should be."

"That's reassuring to hear, Mr Stevenson. It was Alexander's own decision to be open about his sexuality, but I know that it won't affect his academic approach, or the more general life of the school - he has a....special friend, but not someone who is a pupil here."

"I'm not anticipating any further problems, Mrs Bellingham. The police might very well need to speak to Alexander, though, so I would suggest that he stays out of school tomorrow, and then returns to start afresh on Monday. I'm very sorry that you, and Alexander, have been distressed and inconvenienced. We'll do everything we can to ensure that there's no repetition."

The police did, indeed, take a statement from Xander, the same afternoon, and seemed to quickly reach the same verdict, of self-defence, as the headmaster had.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw the knife," Xander told me on the phone that evening. "I didn't think even he was that stupid. His mates weren't expecting it, either, they looked just as gobsmacked as me. I didn't have time to even think of being scared, I just knew I had to stop him, and kicking him....between the legs was the quickest way I could think of."

"Well, it did the job, at least. I'm sorry that things went the way they did, Xander, you've got just as much right as anyone else to be yourself. Still, every cloud has a silver lining, you've got a buckshee day off tomorrow, and the weather's supposed to be nice again!"

"Yeah - you could take me to the seaside, we haven't done that, not in this country, anyway, since we went to Looe, and that was last year."

"Oh, I could, could I? That's very kind of you, volunteering me!"

"You know you love the pleasure of my company!"

"Well, yes, I can't argue with that, I suppose! I'd better have a word with your mum, then, to see what she thinks of the idea."

"OK - I'm going in a minute, anyway, I need Robert to check that....everything's present, and....working correctly. He's very good at....that sort of thing!"

"Too much information, Mr Bellingham, far too much information!" I said, as Xander sniggered suggestively.

After a brief discussion with Julia, it was agreed that I would pick Xander up in the car on the Friday morning. We drove down to Kingsgate Bay, where I hadn't been since I was a boy of Xander's age myself, with its sandy beach, and castle standing guard on the chalk cliffs, spending a most enjoyable day, Xander swimming in the sea while I basked in the warm sun, before we lunched in the clifftop dining pub, sitting at a table on the outside terrace to make the most of the sea views.

"Better than school, sunshine?" I asked as Xander polished off the last of his ice cream sundae dessert.

"Just a bit! I could get used to this!"

"I doubt it would be as user-friendly in a couple of months time, with a gale blowing in off of the Channel!"

"No, we need to go somewhere the sun always shines."

"Not many places like that in this country."

"Gran Canaria was fun, maybe we should all move there. Didn't someone out there say they have 350 sunny days a year?"

"Something like that, at least in the south of the island, where the main tourist resorts are. I doubt if your parents, especially your mum, would want to head over there, though."

"She can stay here and get rained on, then!"

"That's not very charitable! I must admit, though, the idea of living somewhere with sunshine more or less guaranteed does appeal to me, especially as I get older. I know it's all psychological, but winter seems to get longer every year!"

"Callum and his family went to Gran Canaria this summer, too, did you know? They arrived the day we flew back, so he told Robert, and they really enjoyed it, too, although they only stayed for a week, because Callum's dad couldn't get any more time off work."

"Great minds think alike! Who knows, we might all meet up out there one of these days."

"Maybe," Xander said, smiling mysteriously.

****

Over the following weeks of the Autumn Term, life settled back into a far quieter, more routine phase. There was no further trouble at school, beyond the odd bit of name-calling, which Xander blithely ignored - those, certainly of his own age group, who might have been inclined to take things further, were seemingly deterred, both by Martin Clements' expulsion from the school, and Xander's own robust response to what had happened. He had made it clear to all that he was prepared to stand up for himself, physically, if necessary. As Xander passed his fourteenth birthday, marked with a house party for several of his school and cricketing friends, he was also in the throes of another growth spurt, and was showing signs of being well on the way to matching his father's height of around six feet. He was still remarkably willowy and graceful, though, seeming to avoid the gangling, 'all arms and legs' stage of some of his coevals. I still loved him with all my heart, and said so often enough, and he responded in kind, without a trace of teenage awkwardness, but it was becoming clear to me that, as far as sexual allure went, he was rapidly moving out of my 'window of attraction'. Robert, too, was well into puberty, growing taller himself, although still well behind Xander, and beginning to lose his elfin features and physique, becoming, instead, a very handsome and well-proportioned young man. The boys remained completely devoted to each other, as much in love as any couple, gay or straight, young or old, as I'd ever known. Xander raised the sexual side of my attraction to him, one damp October evening when he and Robert were staying at the flat after we'd been out in town.

"I don't seem to be giving as many....problems as I used to, David. Is that because I'm growing up?"

"I've never found you a problem, Xander! But I know what you mean. Yes, I suppose that my 'age of attraction' has always been centred around a year or so either side of puberty, maybe 11 to 14, with 12 or 13 as the likeliest age for a boy that I would find most desirable, I guess. That's only one very small aspect of my feelings for you, though - I can't imagine anything that would stop me loving you, even when you're fully adult. As I said to your dad a long time ago, sweetheart, what I fell for, what I still love, is who you are, not what you look like."

"I still wish you could find someone of your own, though - I still love you, lots, and I'm happy that you love me, but, as we get older, Robert and I, we're going to be living our own lives together, going to uni, that kind of thing, and you're going to be left on your own a lot more."

"It would only be going back to what I've known for most of my life, Xander. I've always had plenty of friends, though, so I've never been 'lonely', in that sense. As far as finding a 'boyfriend', if you want to call it that, it's not something I've ever expected to be feasible, because what I want in that regard is so far from what this society is prepared to accept that I've just discounted the option. I've never had it, never expect to find it, so I've conditioned myself to not miss it, and, most of the time, that conditioning works perfectly well."

"What about somewhere else, though - surely not every country hates boylovers?"

"There have been places that have been more tolerant, some fairly recently - Holland, up to a few years ago, for one, but they seem to have fallen in line with everyone else now. I don't think that moving somewhere simply with a view to have a sexual relationship which would only last, at most, a couple of years, is something I'd want to do, in any case."

"What about Spain?" Robert asked. "Xander and I were looking on the internet a while ago, and it said that the age of consent there is 13."

"That's true, but I think that's more with relationships between young people of the same age in mind - inter-generational things are frowned on just as much there, even if they are technically legal, subject to certain conditions. And the same thing I just said applies as much to Spain as anywhere else - going there purely because I might find someone, attractive to me, to go to bed with isn't really a valid reason to emigrate."

Xander sighed. "Don't give up, David. You said to me that I deserved to be myself as much as anyone else, and you deserve that just as much. There's someone out there for you, I know it, you've just got to find him - or let him find you, maybe."

"I've lived with 'never' for so long, sweetheart - don't try and coax me out of that place, please, I'll end up making a fool of myself, or, worse still, getting myself into trouble. There are things I want a lot more than sex, and you've helped me to find some of those things, over the past couple of years. Even if you were to walk out of here now, never wanting to see me again, I'd always be so grateful to you for that."

"I'm not going anywhere, David, and I hope you know it. Apart from Robert, you're the best friend I've ever had, and I want us to stay friends, always."

"As long as you're happy for that to be the case, Xander, I'll be here for you, as long as I'm living and breathing. Whether it's every day, or once in a blue moon, that doesn't matter. Whatever you need, that I'm able to give, it's yours."

Xander looked at Robert. "Is it still alright?" he murmured. Robert nodded and smiled.

"There is something, David, something I've wanted for a really long time." I looked at him, quizzically. "What I want, David, more than anything, is to sleep with you tonight, all night. Just snuggle, and sleep. We've never done it before, not properly, in bed, and we might never get a another chance to do it while I'm still a boy, and still attractive to you. Please, David, just this once."

Almost without my realising it was happening, tears flowed from my eyes. Both boys came to me, kissing my cheeks and embracing me.

"Do it, David," Robert whispered in my ear. "Xander wants it so badly, and I know you won't hurt him. Please, David, for me, but most of all for the boy you love more than anyone in the world."

"Oh, Xander," I managed to choke out, at length. "I love you so much."

My boy kissed me tenderly on the lips. "And I love you just as much. Come on, let's go to bed!"

And we did, Robert kissing his boyfriend goodnight before Xander led me by the hand to my bedroom, smiling as broadly as he had the night he and Robert had consummated their relationship. There was never any question in my mind that I would succumb to temptation, but I did, as he changed unhurriedly into his pyjamas, see him naked for only the second time, my mind's eye instantly recalling his earlier, eleven year old self by that Greek pool, comparing and contrasting with the near-adolescent vision, standing there, smiling, by my bed. He had a fairly substantial patch of very light coloured pubic hair, fully descended, largish testicles, and a penis, fully erect at that moment, almost five inches in length, and probably two-thirds of the thickness of my own. Not a boy's body anymore, but that of a youth, without a doubt. And quite stunningly beautiful, the first impression I'd ever had of him, the comparison with classical statuary, reinforced still further. I simply couldn't take my eyes off of him, and he smiled still more broadly.

"I've grown up a bit, haven't I, David?"

I didn't trust myself to speak, simply nodding my agreement.

"I bet you liked me more the first time, though, didn't you?"

Again, all I could do was to nod, mutely - he knew me more than well enough to have not needed to ask, really.

"You get changed, too, please, I want to admire you as well."

I undressed rather hesitantly, knowing how aroused I was, but Xander took it in his stride.

"Very nice, David. You're a very attractive man. Don't worry, I'm not trying to seduce you, I said just snuggles, and I meant that, but I'm glad to have been able to see you naked. I'll always remember tonight, it's going to be so special."

We put our nightclothes on, and he turned down the duvet.

"I've been waiting for this since I was 11, David. To spend the whole night close to you. Let's snuggle!"

After the first few minutes, I began to become used to his warmth and closeness, and my breathless excitement at having so much of his body in contact with mine began to tone down, leaving a deep sense of satisfaction, of being in the right situation, with the right person, in a way that, despite what much of 'society' would doubtless say, was appropriate for both of us. Xander seemed to have the same feeling of having settled into a place of comfort, too, and turned on his side, kissing me on the cheek. His erection had subsided as well, as I could feel as he pressed against my left leg, there was nothing but a feeling of soft warmth radiating through his clothing and mine, and into my skin.

"Goodnight, David. Thank you so much for letting me be here with you, I'm so happy."

"Goodnight, sweetheart, I'm just as happy to have you here as you are to be here."

I woke early the next morning, with Xander's body moulded closely into mine. I watched his sleeping face, still so beautiful, but, as with his body, the face of a boy no longer. I carefully slipped out of bed without waking him, going into the lounge. I gently laid my hand on Robert's shoulder, and his eyes opened. He smiled sleepily.

"Was it alright, David?"

"It was wonderful, sunshine, thank you so much for allowing it to happen. You go and look after him now, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

Robert blushed a little as he rose from the sofa, his typically boyish morning condition rather obvious.

"Take care of each other, Robert. And have fun!"

The boy blushed more deeply, but also smiled happily. "See you in a little while, David."

"Take your time. We've got all day!"

****

As Xander and Robert moved further into their teen years, they found rather more independence, often going into London on their own for various events, or just to meander and watch the world go by. With Harry and Julia's blessing, they both had keys to my flat, and occasionally stayed there unsupervised when I was out of town. There was never a hint of trouble, and nor, knowing them as well as I did, would I have expected any - they were both commendably responsible. We spent time in Cornwall, too, both boys enjoying the change of scenery every now and again, although I doubt that either of them would have wanted to live up on the moor permanently, at that time of their lives - there were too many interesting and exciting things to do nearer to home. Xander's cricket career continued to flourish, as he played for Kent Schools, and graduated to his club's senior team at 15, not playing every game, but more than holding his own in the adult ranks when he was selected. He was offered the opportunity of coaching with the county cricket team, but remained adamant that he only wanted to play for enjoyment, and had no aspirations to playing the game professionally, satisfied to stick to attending the net practices and other training sessions at his school and club.

That summer, when Xander and Robert were both 15, marked another milestone, too, as they went on a first foreign holiday with me as their only adult companion. There was no doubt, in Xander's mind, at least, as to where he wanted to go.

"Can we do Gran Canaria again, David? I really liked it there, and Robert did, too. I just like everything about it, the weather, the scenery, the....atmosphere."

"The Yumbo Centre?" I asked, archly.

"Well, it isn't a disincentive! I liked being able to hold hands with Robert in public without people staring at us - well, not too many people, anyway!"

So, Gran Canaria it was, and we had a great time. Once more, I demurred at the prospect of staying in Playa del Inglés itself, but we did stay in a much more easily accessible location, in a two bedroom apartment in Faro with views of the eponymous lighthouse, the famous Maspalomas dunes and out towards the Atlantic, and with a 24 hour bus service, too, so there was no incentive to hire a car this time around. The boys wanted to sample the nightlife a little more, now that they were older, and did so, albeit under some light-handed - I hoped! - supervision from me. They didn't complain I was being intrusive, at least, so maybe the balance was there.

Towards the end of our stay, we were sitting on the balcony of the apartment after a very late breakfast - almost lunch! - in the wake of a late night in the resort.

"You know, David, I could see us living here, on the island." I wouldn't have been surprised if Xander had spoken those words, but they were actually from Robert. He'd gone through his own growing phase now, and while he would always be three inches or so shorter than Xander's final height of six feet one, there was little left of the waif-like boy I'd first met three and a half years earlier. He was also much more self-confident, if still a lot quieter than my bubbly Xander, his new assurance having been particularly noticeable over the previous six months or so.

"If that's what you want, Robert, once you've finished your education, I don't see why you shouldn't. You'd still need to earn a living though, it wouldn't be a wall-to-wall holiday."

"Oh, I know that, but if you want something enough, you can always make it happen, can't you?"

Not quite always, I thought ruefully. Xander noticed my expression, and picked up on my train of thought almost at once.

"You're too worried about what other people think, sometimes, David, that's my opinion. I know what you've said in the past about not wanting to hurt anyone, not wanting to get into trouble, and those things are important, but it really makes me sad sometimes when I think of you ending up with nothing, or, more to the point, no-one."

"But, as I've also said before, Xander, it isn't that I haven't got anyone. I've got you, and Robert, too, as my friends, I love you both, and I'm still more than happy with that. I know you're following your own paths in life, and that's great. If those paths bring you here, it's only a fairly short flight for me to come and see you, or vice versa. If I couldn't ever see you again, that would be a sadness for me, but, if that's what's appropriate for you, both of you, then sobeit. You don't want an old man like me round your neck, anyway!"

"Blimey, David, you make it sound like you're on the waiting list for the cemetery! You're only 45, you might not have even lived half of your life yet! You should relax and let the world take you somewhere new, if you ask me - and I don't mean going to Lanzarote rather than here, either. Write a best seller, you're a good enough writer, it's just your subject matter that puts some people off - not me, by the way, I really like your stories, even the....juicier ones!"

"I don't know - they say all fiction is autobiography, at least to a point, and there isn't that much I know enough about, apart from what's inside my head. Maybe, Xander, maybe one day I'll find the spark from somewhere."

"Like Robert said - if you want something enough, you can do it. Look at Callum!"

Robert's cousin had, little more than twelve months earlier, and after years of no more than lukewarm efforts at learning the piano, picked up a guitar for the first time, and was already a very exciting and accomplished player - Robert had showed me some videos that Callum had posted online, and I'd heard he was already playing amateur gigs in their local area, covering some well-known rock classics, but also writing and playing his own original material.

"He wants to be a professional musician, David," Robert said. "His mum and dad would rather he did something more mainstream, but he's pretty determined. I was going to say he wants to be a rock star, but that isn't really it - he just wants to play, and if he can earn a living at it, that would be a bonus for him."

"Well, if he was my son, I might advise him to keep both options open, carry on with his education in case the music doesn't work out, but maybe a bit of single-mindedness might help him in such a competitive area. There are a lot of wannabes, but far more fall by the wayside than actually make it. If Callum has that 'stickability' as well as talent, who knows? I hope he achieves his ambitions."

****

We hadn't been back in the UK for many weeks when worrying news began to filter through to Robert, and on to the rest of us.

"Aunty Hazel's not well at all, David," he told me one early autumn day when I was at the Bellinghams'. "She's had loads of tests, but the doctors can't seem to find out what's wrong with her. She's tired all the time, and can't eat much. I really hope she gets better soon."

Concern was etched in the boy's face, and with good reason - Hazel was almost the last link he had with his old family, his closest blood relation who had any time for him, his mother still steadfastly refusing to engage with her 'hellbound' son at all. As the weeks passed, and Christmas approached, Hazel seemed to improve somewhat, and the family had a thoroughly enjoyable festive season, but the dark, cold days of January and February brought a big setback, and Hazel was admitted to hospital for the first time. Xander rang me on Valentines' Day, but it wasn't to share sweet nothings.

"Hazel's been diagnosed with cancer, David. Robert's so upset, you can imagine. They....they don't know what treatment options there are, yet. Craig has tried to contact Robert's mum, but she won't answer any calls or e-mails. She's still working for that church, apparently, but no-one in the family has seen her for ages."

I said the things that people tend to say in such a situation, about hopes for the best, and asked for my good wishes to be passed on, but, unfortunately, as often seems to be the case, hopes weren't nearly enough. Hazel's condition deteriorated rapidly, and she died, her family, including Robert, at her bedside, towards the end of March. I was at the cottage when the news came through, and contrived to miss the funeral, although I'd been invited, because some most unseasonable and unexpected snow and ice had closed the road to the village for almost 24 hours. I sent my profuse apologies via Xander, and made a substantial donation to the cancer research charity the family had suggested in lieu of floral tributes. Robert was, predictably, devastated, all the more so because his mother's only reaction to the news of her sister's death was to send a one line e-mail to Craig - 'God will not be mocked.'

"I can't see what God has to do with attitudes like that," Harry said the next time I saw him, a couple of days later. "Helen seems almost as though she's caught up in a cult of some kind - her church seems to be as fundamentalist as it's possible to be, particularly when it comes to homosexuality. To say they're rabidly anti-gay is a massive understatement, I looked at their website when we were trying to find some way of getting in touch with Helen. They'll be even more upset, now that the marriage equality laws have finally received Royal Assent, no doubt."

Xander had been beside himself with excitement a few weeks earlier, as the new law had made it into the Statute Book.

"We can really do it now, David, Robert and I! We can actually get married! It's brilliant!"

"It's what you two have wanted for such a long time, I know! I'm so pleased for you!"

"He first asked me when we were 10, David, in the summer holidays, in the garden at his old house. I said yes straight away, and I've never changed my mind. I love him just as much as ever!"

"I know you do, sweetheart, and you're going to make such a great couple. Remember what I said about you being the two halves of the same pattern?"

"You were right, David, of course. All we need to do now is to find someone for you!"

I laughed, but there was a hint of melancholy there, which Xander noticed immediately, and commented on.

"You know I can't get married, Xander. The two halves of my equation are never going to balance - even if I found someone, by the time they were old enough for marriage, they'd have outgrown my attractions. I know people get married for reasons other than sex, and a good job, too, but that 'pair-bonding' is at the root of things."

"Never say never, David. You don't know what might be around the next corner."

Hazel's death had come at a particularly difficult time for Robert, in the run-up to his GCSE exams, but he regrouped in time to fulfil his teachers' expectations, achieving a slew of A and A* grades, as, indeed, did Xander. Their A-Level options reflected their differing interests - Robert wanted to concentrate on languages, with teaching as his preferred career, while Xander chose sciences, with a view to going into the renewable energy field, something that had interested him for some time. He wasn't alone in that interest, either, as, in the wake of his becoming a widower, Craig had left his job and set himself up as a 'green technology' consultant, so that he could work from home and be around for Callum and for Anthony, then a little over 11, Paul having headed for university in Manchester with Christina, now his fiancée. I'd heard from Robert that the youngest boy was being taught at home, by private tutors, because there wasn't a school that could appropriately harness his prodigious intellectual capabilities, and was, in terms of qualifications, already on a par with his older brother and cousin.

"They reckon Anthony will have finished his A-Levels by the time he's 13," Robert said one day. "He's just amazing, there doesn't seem to be anything he can't do. And it's not as though he's just some kind of geeky intellectual, either - he's got lots of friends, he's a good footballer, plays for his local team. He's just a normal 11 year old boy, except that he's a genius, too!"

"I've only ever met him the once, at that barbecue. He was, what, 7 then?" Robert nodded. "He certainly made an impression on me, even then he seemed to be something really out of the ordinary."

"It makes me wonder what he'll be doing by the time he's my age, David. Probably on his way to proving Einstein wrong, or something!"

Craig and his family had fallen in love with Gran Canaria as much as Xander and Robert had, and arranged their first holiday after the loss of Hazel to be on the island. After discussions with Harry and Julia, they rented a villa for a fortnight, with Xander and Robert going along as well, Christina also being part of the group. I went away for the same fortnight, but in the opposite direction, taking a cruise, something I'd never done before, along the Norwegian coast, right up into the Arctic Circle. Xander and I e-mailed photos of our respective trips to each other, and while mine were of spectacular scenery and the midnight sun, Xander's seemed to tell a tale of a non-stop party! Rather to everyone's surprise, Callum had come out as gay, too, and spent his whole holiday, from what I could see from Xander's pictures, draped around a boy of a similar age, also from London, who he'd met on the island, apart from the odd occasions he picked up a guitar from somewhere, and, from Xander's description, had completely blown everyone away with his playing.

"He's definitely going to be a star, if he carries on the way he's going," Xander told me when we were reunited after our return to the UK. "He's a fantastic guitarist, you should come and hear him sometime. I think he's doing some gigs before the end of the summer holidays, somewhere around here. I'll get Robert to find out where and when, and let you know."

"What happened about his 'holiday romance'?"

"Yeah, they're still seeing each other - Marcus is a really fun guy, he lives across in West London, somewhere near Wimbledon, I think. They're not taking it too seriously yet, just having a good time together. Robert said he was pretty amazed when Callum said he had a boyfriend, though, everyone was, I think, because although he'd never had any problem about Robert and I being together, he'd never shown any signs of being interested in boys, at all, even if he'd never really had a serious girlfriend, either."

"Oh well, as long as they're happy, that's the main thing," I replied.

"Marcus is a really good singer, too - he used to go to choir school when he was younger, apparently - but he reckons he doesn't like rock music, so I doubt that he'll end up in a band with Callum. You never know, though."

I met Marcus the night, in the last week of the school holidays, that I went to a community centre local to where Callum lived to see him play. And there had been no exaggeration of his abilities, either - he was really very talented. Marcus chatted with the boys and I, and just seemed like any other middle-class teenager - I certainly wouldn't have guessed at his being gay, had I not known. As was the case with the star of the show, who came to sit with us afterwards, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush of his performance.

"Hi, David, I haven't seen you for ages! What did you think?"

"Callum, you were stunning! I'd heard how good you were, but it seems that the reports were downplayed! I'm a bit of an old rocker on the quiet, so the sort of stuff you play is right up my street, but, if anything, I like your own original stuff even better than the songs I recognised."

"Thanks! I've put some of it online, I don't know if you've seen it?"

"Yeah, Robert pointed me in the right direction a while back. He told me you're hoping for a career in music, too."

"That would be great, but Dad has said I need to keep my options open in case it doesn't work out. I'm going to do music and media studies for A-Level, but I'm doing history and geography as well, so I can still go to uni if I need to."

"Sensible, that's what I would've advised if you'd been my son, too. Well, I certainly hope it works out for you - if it was purely down to talent, you'd be a star already, but I'm sure you know it's not quite as easy as that!"

"Yeah, I do know! I'm not bothered about being a big star, anyway - if I can just play, and have people enjoy what I do, that would be great, even if it means I just play gigs like this all my life."

The following week, the boys returned to school to begin their A-Level courses, and it wasn't long before Xander was telling me how surprised he was about the increase in workload.

"They said at school that A-Levels were a different proposition, but I didn't expect it to be quite so different. Robert's got even more work than me, with him doing languages, I hardly seem to see him in the week, even though his room's next door!"

"At the risk of sounding old and boring, nothing worthwhile is ever easy! I know what you mean, though, I remember spending two years awash with work when I was your age, too. The only saving grace is that you've only got to do it once. In eighteen months or so, you'll be getting ready to do the exams, and then it will all be over - apart from the nailbiting while you wait for the results!"

"Thanks, that really makes me feel better! Oh, well, I'd better get used to being a hermit, I suppose!" Xander laughed.

There were more relaxed times interspersed amongst the hard work, though, parties and other social events for the boys, trips to Cornwall, days out in town, cricket in the summer. I wasn't seeing quite as much of Xander as I'd been used to, but our love for each other was still part of the backdrop of both of our lives, as strong as ever, a warm and comforting presence, particularly for me, like glimpses of blue sky through the branches of the forest of my life. And, when it was needed, there was never a moment's hesitation before each of us offered the other whatever we could, such as when his grandmother died, peacefully at home, not long before the end of his first A-Level year - it was me he turned to for solace, as much as to his parents, or even Robert, perhaps because he was aware that I'd known the woman since I was a boy myself.

Callum's musical career was still on an upward path - young as he was, he'd already been offered session guitar work, after a video of him playing a storming version of Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love he'd posted online had gone viral, although Craig was making sure he didn't neglect his studies. Much more unexpectedly, though, we suddenly had another celebrity in our midst. Harry's lectures on various aspects of ancient history, particularly Greek history, of course, had long been popular in academic circles, and he'd been commissioned by the BBC to write a short series of documentaries on the subject for one of their channels. The series was planned to have been presented by a well-known 'TV historian', but he had fallen ill just as recording of the series had begun, leading to the producer asking Harry if he fancied the idea of stepping in front of the camera himself. He duly did, and the public seemed to take immediately to his relaxed, conversational style of presentation, leavened with a sprinkling of dry humour. The series achieved the highest viewing figures in its category for the year, Harry soon being signed up for a sequel.

"Fame at last, then, Harry!" I joked when we met up in the Bellinghams' local for a family lunch one Sunday.

"It's all rather surreal," the man replied. "One day I was anonymously residing in the groves of Academe, where I'd been for most of my life, the next, it seemed, I had people coming up to me in the supermarket, asking for my autograph! My 'fan club' largely consists of 'ladies of a certain age', though, Julia thinks it's hilarious!"

"You're not worried about your husband's head being turned by his groupies, are you, Julia?!"

"He seems to be fighting them off successfully enough! The series has been a bit of a talking point, though, quite a few people, some I wouldn't have expected, seem to have found it entertaining."

"And, I have to say," Harry continued, "that the extra income hasn't come amiss, either. I don't know whether you've heard anything from the boys, but Julia and I are going to treat ourselves to a cruise this autumn. We were wondering if you'd come and stay down here while we're away, just to keep a cursory eye on them, although they're old enough to shift for themselves, realistically."

Xander himself chimed in. "Yeah, we'll look after David for you, Dad!" he laughed. "After all, a man of his advanced years can't be expected to fend for himself!"

"Sounds good to me, Xander, I'll come to your place, put my feet up, and have you wait on me for a couple of weeks!"

"In your dreams! Robert and I are slaves to education, didn't you know? We can't serve two masters!"

"Damn! My dreams of being pampered dashed already! Seriously, though, I'm quite happy to be around and hold the fort, as long as you guys don't think I'll be cramping your style."

"What style! By the time we've waded through hours of homework a night, we're too tired for anything but sleep, anyway!"

So it was that I spent two autumn weeks in South East London. Before Harry and Julia's departure, though, there was another event of considerable significance - Xander's eighteenth birthday. The realisation that he was now legally an adult really brought me up short - it hardly seemed any time at all since that July day in Greece when I'd first met him as an eleven year old. Xander himself referred to it in the little speech he gave at his very well-attended party, held in the pavilion at his cricket club.

"I've already thanked my Mum and Dad, and my darling Robert, for all they mean to me, but there's someone else here, who a few of you know, but maybe more of you don't, who has been just as important a person in my life, for more than six years now - I can hardly believe that it's that long, but, yes, six years it is. I'm talking about my wonderful friend, David, sitting over there with my parents. He's always there for me, and has done so much for me. Maybe some of you might think it's unusual for me to be such close friends with someone thirty years older than me, but if you knew David like I do, you'd understand. Thank you, David, for everything. I love you very much."

I could do no more than mouth 'Love you too, sweetheart' in his direction, and wipe the tears from my eyes. A little later, he came across and wrapped me up in his now strong arms, hugging me warmly.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you too much, David." I shook my head, smiling. We were more or less the same height now, he was, maybe, an inch taller, but no more. He looked me in the eye, and spoke quietly, so no-one else could hear.

"If it wasn't for Robert, I'd be yours forever, you know that, don't you, David?"

"Oh, Xander, that's the loveliest thing you've ever said to me, I'm so proud and happy. I love you so much, and I always will. I've never met anyone even close to being as special as you, and I can't imagine I ever will."

"Keep imagining, David. He's out there, somewhere, your soulmate, I've said it for years, and I still believe it."

He kissed me tenderly, before gently releasing me from his embrace, but not his gaze.

"You'll find him, David," he whispered.

****

It still seemed a long way off, but Xander and Robert were already making plans for the following summer, once their exams had finished. During the brief downtimes they had from their schoolwork while I was staying with them, they began to discuss what they had in mind with me.

"Robert's eighteenth is a week or so after our last exams, David," Xander was saying, "so that's worked out pretty well. What we want to do, is to have a party, like mine, but as well as Robert's birthday, we're going to get officially engaged, too. We've already spoken to Mum and Dad about it, and they're happy with the idea. I mean, it's hardly going to come as a huge surprise to anyone, no-one who matters, anyway. After that, we want to go to Gran Canaria, for as long as we can, the rest of the summer, if possible. Granny left me some money in her will, she said it was for me to go and enjoy myself, so I want to pay, and we want you to come as our guest, for once. Would you, David, please?"

He fixed me with the sort of earnest gaze I remembered, right back to when we first met, instantly washing away any hesitancy I might have felt at the idea of his 'wasting' his money on me.

"Xander, Robert, I'd be honoured. Thank you so much for asking me."

Other plans which began to take shape were around the boys' university options. Both of them wanted to stay in London, and had made their applications accordingly, Xander to the Department of Environmental Sciences and Technology at Imperial College, Robert to the Modern Languages Centre at King's. Both had been offered provisional places, but they had both been set challenging targets in terms of A-Level grades. Their teachers were confident that they'd meet the requirements, though, as long as they kept working at their current standard. The incentive of being accepted by their colleges of choice helped with the motivation to keep battling against what seemed like a never-ending tide of work for both of them, over the long, dark months of winter and early spring.

It wasn't long, though, before the days began to lengthen again, and then the exam season was upon us. Xander and Robert both felt well prepared by their respective schools, and approached the tests with, for the most part, equanimity. Their exam timetables almost coincided, Xander finishing the day before Robert, and, that weekend, I took them out for a celebratory meal in a nice London restaurant we'd visited on a few previous occasions, before ending the evening in my flat, sharing a couple of bottles of vintage cava, still my favourite wine, and Xander's.

"So, that's pretty much it, guys, you're not schoolboys anymore!"

Robert grinned. "That's probably scarier than the exams, David, for me, at least. Going out to face the big, bad world!"

"Well, I suppose uni is a sort of transitional phase, in that respect - you're treated as adults, of course, to stand or fall by your own efforts, but there's still a certain structure, a routine, rather than being thrown to the wolves immediately. Leaving school, though, it certainly is one of those big milestones in anyone's life."

"I've got mixed feelings, too," Xander continued. "There are things I like about being more grown-up" - he raised his glass in my direction, and took a large sip - "but, like Robert says, some of it is a bit worrying, too, that you're expected to be independent, to look after yourself. Being looked after is nice, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm sure your parents aren't going to throw you onto the streets any time soon, and, of course, you've got each other. I'm still here for you, for both of you, too - whatever I can do, as I've always said, I will."

"We know, David," Robert replied, "and we really do appreciate it. You, and Harry and Julia, have done so much for me, especially, after what happened with my family. If it hadn't been for that, who knows where I might have ended up."

"You've got what you deserve, Robert, the chance to be yourself, and to be happy and successful. I'm sure, knowing you for as long as I have, that you'll take that chance. Anyway, before it all gets too heavy, we've got things to look forward to in the next few weeks, haven't we? Your birthday, Robert, then off to the sunshine!"

"Oh, David, I forgot to tell you!" Robert exclaimed. "We aren't the only ones going to Gran Canaria. Craig has signed a big contract with the local government out there, for his consultancy to advise them on renewable energy. He's moving to the island, with Anthony, for at least the next three years. They've rented a house, in a little seaside place, apparently, Castillo....something or other. Callum is going to be there for some of the summer, too, although Marcus' parents won't let him stay for more than a couple of weeks or so, so I think they'll be coming back together after that."

"Castillo del Romeral, is that the place?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's it," Robert replied. "They're going to be right by the sea, apparently, it sounds great. Paul and Christina are going to look after the house here, now they've finished their degrees, and Callum will stay there, too - he's taking a gap year, to see how his music goes, if it doesn't work out so well, he'll go to uni next year, probably study to be a teacher, like me, but history and geography, rather than languages. I don't know what Anthony's going to do about his education - there's a British school in Gran Canaria, but he's done his A-Levels already. I think Craig was going to try and get some advice from somewhere, about whether Anthony could do university level stuff with tutors, or something like that."

"Well, it'll certainly be nice to see some familiar faces out there. Let's hope we can all get together," I said.

"This is going to be one fun summer!" Xander grinned broadly.

****

By the time we assembled at Gatwick on a Monday morning in the middle of July, Xander and Robert were now both adults, and were also sporting matching narrow gold rings, as a token of their engagement. The announcement had gone pretty well, although, to the boys' disappointment, a couple of people had actually walked out of Robert's party in response. They were, as Xander had suggested, though, not people who really mattered to either himself or Robert, and they'd taken the outcome in their stride.

The boys would not be swayed in their choice of destination on this occasion, fair enough, given that they were paying, so, for the first time, we actually stayed in Playa del Inglés itself. After some joint research, though, I did have a little input into the choice of accommodation, as we rented a two bedroom bungalow in a quieter part of the resort, but still within easy walking distance of the nightspots they were interested in. As we were staying for several weeks, we also managed to get hold of a place with rather more domestic equipment than the average holiday apartment, including, most notably, a washing machine. The small complex where the bungalow was situated also had a private pool, so it all made for a rather nice 'home from home'.

We soon settled into a routine, poolside from mid-morning for a couple of hours, maybe a walk, lunch and an afternoon siesta, then out to sample the nightlife. Neither Xander nor Robert were irresponsible when it came to alcohol, so a few bottles of beer or a shared bottle of wine became the norm, with a 'dry' day once in every three or four when we all stuck to soft drinks or water. As we approached the end of the first week, Robert fielded an e-mail from his cousin.

"Callum and Marcus are arriving on Monday, David. Craig and Anthony are here already, apparently, they arrived yesterday, so Callum says, but they're spending a couple of days getting settled into their new house, they'd already had their stuff, clothes and other bits and pieces, shipped out here. We should see them all, though, maybe on Tuesday. He's going to ring me."

So it was that arrangements were made for the seven of us to meet up at a bar in the resort on the Tuesday evening, prior to going out for a meal in a well regarded local steak restaurant. Xander and Robert were looking forward to catching up with their friends and family, but I was a little more reticent, given that I didn't really know any of the others that well, and, indeed, had only met Craig and Anthony on that single occasion, more than six years earlier, at the barbecue at Robert's former home.

"It'll be fine, David," Xander reassured me. "You know Callum and Marcus, and you got on well enough with Craig and Anthony when you did meet them before. Robert and I will be there, anyway, we'll look after you!"

"I know you will, and I'm grateful. I just feel like a bit of a gooseberry, that's all."

"Don't be daft! You're with us, and we love you! You'll never be left out, where Robert and I are concerned."

"Love you too, sweetheart, just as much as ever. We'd better start getting ready soon, I guess."

"Yeah, they're arriving at around 6:30, I think, Callum did arrange it with Robert."

As befitted a green energy consultant and his party, Craig and the others arrived by public transport, on the last direct bus from Castillo to the resort. The last of the group to descend from the vehicle, as we met them at one of the central bus stops, though, stopped me in my tracks, seemed to stop time itself. There it was, the half-forgotten but instantly recognisable gaze, the same intensity I'd last seen in the near darkness of a suburban garden, now recapitulated in the evening sunshine of a holiday island. I stood, transfixed, held in thrall by his eyes, barely aware of anything else. After what, to me, was a completely indeterminate period of stasis, but, to the rest of the world was just a few seconds, he spoke.

"I know time is relative, David, but nearly half my life doesn't seem all that soon. Not soon enough, anyway." His voice was clear and high, unbroken, his words pronounced with the most precise of diction. I felt like I could hardly remember how to speak at all, still less frame a suitable reply.

"I....I'm sorry, I haven't been deliberately avoiding you....Tony."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, his serious face broke into a huge, boyish grin.

"You....you remembered! You called me Tony! Oh, David, I knew it, I was right!"

I looked at him, utterly bemused.

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything later," the boy continued. He offered me his hand, as he had in that garden, all those years earlier. "Come on, the others are waiting for us!" Tony's smile was turned up yet another notch as I took his hand gently into mine. There was, as my attention returned from the far elsewhere it had been inhabiting for the past couple of minutes, only one smile broader. On Xander's face.

That Tuesday evening, when I looked back on it later, had elements of both a brightly-coloured, surpassingly vivid dream, but also of an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The beautiful fair-haired boy seemingly filling up the whole of my horizon, intellectually, emotionally, physically, viscerally, so reminiscent of my first days with Xander in Greece, almost exactly seven years earlier. The more or less total absorption in each other, not through any wish to be unsociable or rude, but because we were self-sufficient, neither of us needing anything beyond the reciprocal attention of the other. In the very few moments of those hours that I didn't spend with Tony, it was as though I was sleepwalking, buying a round of drinks, ordering food when we got to the restaurant, before returning to the 'real life' of his presence. During one or two of those momentary excursions into the mundanity of the everyday world, I did notice looks and words from the others, Xander's obvious excitement at what was happening, Robert's quiet smiles, and, perhaps slightly more surprisingly, Craig looking on happily, benignly, as though he thoroughly approved of the direction his youngest son was heading in.

After we'd finished eating, the two teenage couples made it known that they wanted to head off and do their own thing for a while, not a proposition that seemed in any way unreasonable, and they duly left. Craig and Tony also disappeared for a few minutes, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I was smitten, there was no doubt about that whatsoever. Tony was not only, as I would have expected, almost frighteningly intelligent and interesting to talk to, but also gut-wrenchingly attractive to me - I knew he was 13, but he looked maybe two years younger, almost untouched, as yet, by puberty, his naturally wavy, sandy hair bleached almost blond by the summer sun, a light golden tan burnishing his naturally fair skin, light brown eyes that seemed to draw me into their depths, a lovely, if not frequently displayed smile, the cutest nose I'd ever seen on a boy, even including Xander, just begging to be kissed gently. I closed my eyes to recall the vision, and couldn't suppress a deep, involuntary shudder. As I opened my eyes again, my mental picture was replaced by the wonderful reality, standing immediately in front of me.

"Dad wants to talk to you for a few minutes, David. I'm just going to go for a little walk. I'll see you soon."

Craig lowered his big frame into the chair on the opposite side of the table, and regarded me levelly.

"I'm not going to beat about the bush, David. I know you're attracted to Anthony."

My heart rate seemed to double in an instant. "I....I'm sorry, Craig, I can't help it, he's just so....special. Please don't worry, though, I'd never hurt him, he, and you, have nothing to fear from me."

"Don't misunderstand me, David, I've known for many years about your relationship with Xander, not in great detail, of course, but I've heard numerous times from Harry and Julia about your....restraint and self-sacrifice as regards their son."

"I love Xander, I've loved him from the first day I ever met him. Even if for no other reason, that love would be sufficient motivation for my never to want to harm him."

"There's no doubt about how much you love and care for him, David, and I know he feels the same way about you. The case with Anthony is a little different, though."

I looked at the man, perplexed. He continued.

"It's different, David, because Anthony has been in love with you, since he was seven years old. That's one of the reasons you haven't seen him until now, he chose, several times, to avoid situations where he might meet you, because he was afraid you might....reject him, because you might have thought he was too young, or because you were too engrossed with Xander, or just because you would do what you've always done, and toe society's line."

I could barely believe what I was hearing, and it must have shown in my face, because Craig chuckled a little.

"You'll probably be thinking this is a bog-standard 'stay away from my son' speech, David, but, if you do, you're wrong. Anthony is an exceptional individual, in many ways, and, among other things, he most assuredly knows his own mind. He wants to be with you, David, and I want him to be happy and fulfilled. If you want to be with him, then you have my blessing."

Again, my power of speech seemed to have deserted me, for long seconds.

"B....but he's only 13, Craig."

"Yes, and we're in Spain. You know what the age of consent is here, I assume?"

"Y....yes."

"Then you know it's Anthony's decision to make for himself. If he, and you, make that decision, then it's your business. All I'm concerned about is his safety and happiness. From what I know about you, I have no concerns about the former, and from what I know about my son, if he can be....yours, and you his, I have no doubts about the latter, either."

At that moment, Tony walked back into the bar. He looked his father in the eye, and was seemingly satisfied with what he saw, because he smiled, before coming to sit close beside me.

"Will it be alright, then, Dad?"

"That's up to David, you'd better ask him."

He half turned, once more spearing me with the brain-numbing intensity of his gaze.

"David....can I stay with you tonight, please?"

I vacillated for long seconds, hardly knowing which answer I was going to give. Tony's eyes didn't leave my face for a moment.

"Yes. Yes, Tony, I'd like that very much." Tony's serious demeanour dissolved into the most boyish of grins, and he put his arms around my neck, kissing me enthusiastically, if a little inexpertly. Craig stood, smiling, and turned to leave.

"I'm off to find this nightlife the lads seem so keen on. Goodnight, guys, take care, and have fun!"

"Goodnight, Dad, I'll call you tomorrow." I added my farewell. Tony turned back to me. "Are you nearly ready, David?" I nodded. "Just one more thing, before we go. I said I'd explain why I was so excited when you called me Tony at the bus stop. Well, you remember I said I only let my most special friends call me Tony?" I nodded once more. "That was true, but not quite the whole truth, maybe. You....you're the only person I've ever thought was....special enough to call me Tony. It's....just for you. I love you, David, you and only you."

"Oh, Tony," I whispered, as tears trickled from the corners of my eyes. "My Tony, I love you, too."

****

It was almost lunchtime on the Wednesday before Tony and I could finally bring ourselves to get out of bed, and after sharing a shower characterised by at least as much hugging and kissing as washing and rinsing, we walked, hand in hand, into the kitchen area of the bungalow. Xander was sitting on one of the bar stools, looking serious. I instantly felt huge concern about how he might have reacted, and, perhaps more, remorse about the fact that I hadn't even considered his feelings until that moment. I'd spent literally years telling him that I loved him with all my heart, and that I would never again have sex with a boy, but now, here I was, madly in love with someone else, and fairly obviously having broken my vow of celibacy, too, although, in reality, nothing in any way extreme had happened in the course of that first night with Tony. But sex had certainly taken place, and Xander must have known it. As I looked into his almost grim face, feeling nothing but contrition, his mask began to slip. He smirked, then giggled, sounding almost as young as the boy holding my right hand as though he never wanted to let go.

"Fooled you! You thought I was angry with you, didn't you?"

I grinned goofily in my relief. "You rotten tease, Alexander Bellingham! You looked like you wanted to shoot me!"

Xander laughed again, before continuing, more seriously. "David, I'm so thrilled for you, and for Anthony, too, I can hardly find the words to describe it. You've waited so long, and given up so much, but now, at last, you can be yourself, and you don't even have to worry about getting into trouble, at least here in Spain. It's the most brilliant thing that could've happened! And don't worry, I still love you just as much!"

Before I had the chance to reply, Tony rushed forward, put his arms around Xander, and hugged him as though his life depended on it.

"Thank you, thank you, Xander, for understanding. I don't mind, at all, that David loves you, and that you love him. I don't even mind if David loves you more than he loves me, as long as he's got some love left for me."

"Anthony, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. David loves you most of all, I could tell last night, before I even knew you'd be staying here. You're the last piece in his jigsaw. Look after him for me, won't you? He's a wonderful, amazing person, my special friend. If I'd met him before I met Robert, though, you'd have had no chance, I'd never have let him go! He's a keeper, Anthony, but you know that already, don't you?"

The younger boy finally disengaged himself from Xander. "Oh yes! I want to keep him, for ever and ever!" Tony turned to me, the typical intensity in his eyes, but his face wreathed in smiles, too. "David, will you marry me?"

"In a heartbeat, Anthony Armstrong! As soon as we can!"

Tony ran back to me, literally leaping into my arms.

"Good job that wasn't me," Xander smirked. "I'd have flattened you!"

****

The following few weeks were a swirl of emotions, laced with substantial doses of practicality, as various strands of our lives began to be woven into an overall pattern. E-mails, phone calls and even good old traditional 'snail mails' headed back and forth between Spain and the UK during August - A-Level results for all five of the younger members of the party were published, and were, almost entirely, a story of complete success, Xander, Robert and Marcus all being offered the university places they'd hoped for, and Callum entering his gap year armed with more than ample qualifications to enact his 'Plan B' if necessary, although he'd already registered at least some sales of his music, several hundred people downloading a modestly priced album of his original work. He'd also been booked for some more session work, and had a series of small gigs lined up in and around London in the autumn. We all expected great things of him. Tony had swept the board with A* results, to no-one's surprise at all, and was going to begin undergraduate level studies in Maths and Physics in the coming months, under the auspices of a British tutor who lived on the island.

For my part, I was moving on two fronts. The first was to find a suitable property to buy as a permanent home in Gran Canaria, there being no prospect, as far as I was concerned, of my living anywhere that Tony wasn't. It didn't take too long before Craig was able to point me in the direction of a very nice three bedroom house, almost on the beach, a mere few hundred yards from his and Tony's home in Castillo del Romeral which had come onto the market, and which I fell in love with at first sight. I perhaps should have said Tony's nominal home, because he spent virtually the whole summer with me, with Craig's complete blessing, in the bungalow in Playa del Inglés. The property owners were pleased to move quickly, so that by the time that the rental period on our holiday accommodation was coming to an end, in mid-September, the house was already mine. The second element of my transactions was something I was keeping pretty close to my chest, though - apart from my solicitor in the UK, almost the only people who were aware of what was happening behind the scenes were Harry and Julia. Once all the arrangements had been made, and the documentation signed, I was ready to reveal all. The five of us, as it now was, Callum and Marcus having returned to the UK just before the August bank holiday weekend, reassembled in the steak bar where we'd eaten on that first Tuesday evening. After another excellent meal, we were relaxing over a couple of bottles of wine. I turned to Xander and Robert.

"I know it's a few weeks late," I said, "but I've sorted out your engagement present." I took a thick A4 envelope from my backpack, and handed it to Xander. He looked at me, quizzically. "Open it, and tell me what you think," I told him.

He carefully opened the package, and took out a bundle of paperwork, he and Robert poring over it for a minute or two.

"Oh, David, you can't, possibly."

"I already have, sweetheart, all you and Robert have to do is sign on the dotted line."

"B....but, you're giving us something worth a fortune!"

"Well, I won't be needing it anymore, and I don't need the money, either. It might as well go to a good cause, to two special people I love very much, and who I know will appreciate and look after it."

"David, I don't know what to say," Xander choked out, tears in his eyes.

"Just say 'yes', Xander. That's all I want to hear."

"David, we need to say more than that! Thank you, thank you so much, I can't believe how lucky we are," Robert replied, for both of them.

What did that envelope contain? Legal documents confirming Xander and Robert as the new owners of my London flat. There was also, as they discovered later, a provision for the cottage to be rented out as holiday accommodation, which I'd arranged through an agent, and for the proceeds to pass to them, to help support them during their student years, although I retained ownership - there was simply too much of an emotional attachment to the place for me to think of letting it go. After a few minutes, Xander had calmed down, and grinned mischievously at Tony.

"Can I borrow your fiancé for a minute, please?" Tony nodded, smiling broadly.

Xander walked around the table, and pulled me gently to my feet. Before I had time to think, he'd wrapped his arms around my neck, drawn me close, and kissed me as erotically as he ever had, in all the time we'd known each other, his tongue entwining with mine until I was almost gasping for breath. He finally released me, and grinned once more.

"After that, Anthony, if you don't have the most fun you've ever had in your life tonight, I'll bloody well want to know why!"

We all laughed, long and loud.

****

The final act, the end of the circle, came four and a half years later, on a chilly, but beautifully sunny Saturday afternoon in March, at the very dining pub, five minutes from Xander's family home, which had seen so many reunions, celebrations, and a few difficult moments, too, over the course of time, and which had been licensed for civil weddings for many years. It was filled to overflowing, on this occasion, with nothing but happiness, family, friends, teammates, colleagues all joined together to witness bonds being forged which four people had no intention of allowing anything other than the final curtain of death to break. The introductions were made.

"We are all here today to celebrate not one happy event, but two. I hope everyone will have a wonderful day, but, most of all, of course, the two happy couples. Alexander and Robert, Anthony and David, this is your special day, and I hope you'll remember it fondly for the rest of your lives." Xander turned to me, smiling.

"Now the script is finished, David, or will be in a few minutes. We've found the 'happy ever after' ending."

"Yes, sweetheart, we really have!"

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

SB - Nephelokokkygia

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Palliative

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Blue

Monday, 4 November 2013

Dream

Friday, 11 October 2013

Hidden

Thursday, 15 August 2013

Nihilism

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Judgment

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Generations

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

Only

Sunday, 7 July 2013

Reality

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Noosa Heads

Saturday, 22 June 2013

Unspoken

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Quicksand

Sunday, 21 April 2013

Alexandrine