

Scholarship

Ian John Copeland

ISBN 978-1-4659-2533-6

Published by Cemaes Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Ian John Copeland

All rights reserved

Ian John Copeland's blog is at: http://thepaintheagony.blogspot.com

*****

Chapter 1 - Michaelmas Term 1963

The Rocks Preparatory School for Boys lived in its own world. One hundred and forty odd boys and sixteen teaching staff inhabited the school, mostly isolated from the outside world not just by the boundaries but also by the society they formed for themselves. Like all communities, most conformed, but some did not.

The two twelve-year-old boys confronted each other across the row of pegs that divided the now busy changing room. The noise of about a hundred and forty prep school boys mingled with the smells of wet towels, steam, mud and adolescent sweat in the warm, moist and windowless confines of the long room.

"What do you want, Longhurst?"

Christopher Pierce had just returned from the showers soaking wet. A long limbed and lithe boy, a natural athlete, Captain of The Rocks First XI football team, all broad smiles and easy in movement, a summer's worth of suntan apparent on his body. The boy's short blond hair plastered into spikes atop his head like a young Caesar. His opponent, Longhurst, sturdy rather than athletic, suddenly emerged through the clothes hanging on the pegs and now stood facing Pierce, no more than a foot in distance between them, blocking Pierce's path to the changing room exit. Even though all Pierce was wearing was a towel wrapped around his middle he remained confident and defiant in the face of this challenge. Not many would be so bold to take him on. All the other boys deferred to Pierce's status as one of the most senior boys at The Rocks and acknowledged his presence with respect by stepping out of his way as he had made his way back from the showers. Longhurst, Pierce's fellow Sixth Former had no intention of showing such respect to his classmate. He now stood in the central corridor directly blocking Pierce into the end cul-de-sac. Longhurst stood in the middle of the corridor in just his football shorts facing Pierce, his towel brandished as a weapon, and already being flicked this way and that.

"About that tackle."

The other boys sat or standing either side of the corridor of pegs listened intently. Finally there was some sort of an explanation for the confrontation, but Pierce was not going to back down now, as he had not done so on the pitch.

"Oh nonsense, it was perfectly fair. Mr Wallace didn't blow his whistle, did he?"

"He was at the other end of the pitch, he couldn't see. You tripped me, Pierce, in front of the goal. It should have been a penalty. I was clean through."

"I was going for the ball, fair and square, I kicked it wide and you tripped over my left foot, that's all. So back off, Longhurst, and go back to your own side." Pierce moved towards Longhurst, with one easy tug he removed his towel and made to enter into a flicking competition. Longhurst stepped back.

"Come on then." The challenge came from Pierce. The two boys squared up to each other, staring into each other's eyes. In fear, eight-year-old Pip shrank into the corner out of the way, making himself small, hoping to avoid any stray towel ends as they hurt, as he already knew to his cost. Pierce snapped his towel at Longhurst, some of the water sprayed out as Longhurst flinched and moved back another pace. As Pierce drew his towel back for another shot, Longhurst moved forward and flicked his towel in turn, dry. It produced less of a noise as Pierce neatly side stepped this advance and let loose again, this time striking Longhurst on his side.

"Ow!" Longhurst instinctively leapt to one side. Confident Pierce moved forward, his towel menacingly ready to strike again.

"More?"

Pip watched the typical changing room drama from the sidelines, half hidden in the clothes hanging from the pegs. Pierce obstructed his view. All around, the other boys were in various stages of changing amidst the noise and steam of an early September day. All of the boys were older than him and to Pip's eyes, slightly scary. Pip slowly undressed for his shower, something he did not enjoy, being a naturally shy boy.

In the depths of the changing room, the boys ruled themselves. Out of sight of the masters, the rules of the changing room were unwritten, unspoken, but they existed handed down from one generation of boys to the next. Smarting Longhurst retreated further to stay just out of reach as Pierce continued to advance. One final flick to halt the advance and then Longhurst made to climb through the pegs to the other side.

"You won't get me, Pierce." In an instant he was gone, through the hanging clothes to the other corridor of pegs in the changing room rubbing the spot where Pierce had caught him with the towel end. Christopher Pierce looked at where the other boy had disappeared and considered following, but then thought better of it.

"There'll be next time, Longhurst, just you wait," Pierce turned and called over his shoulder as he went back to his own peg.

The windowless labyrinth that was the changing rooms at The Rocks was situated on the ground floor of a converted barn, long rows of pegs and footlockers either side of three corridors. There was an entrance and exit at the front of the room and at the back. There was a communal shower sometimes used after games like today when it was muddy. The two external rows were for outside wear, the uniform duffel coat, and a shoe locker to keep smart shoes and outdoor shoes. The four interior rows were for games kit and PE kit, gym shoes and football boots. Each boy was assigned a peg when he joined the school and kept it throughout his school career. Pip always felt lucky. He had been given peg number one. That meant his duffel coat was right by the entrance door and his games kit was right at the back in the centre, the warmest spot to change.

With Longhurst now safely the other side of the row of pegs, Pierce lorded it over his end of the corridor where he had peg number two next to Pip. The boy was still glistening. Water drips, shower warm, cascaded from his hair as Pierce dried himself. His hair, now towelled into finer spikes, was bleached tow-blond by the hot Cornish sun of last term. Pierce began to rub himself dry, his back to Pip, as he rubbed himself down from head to feet before finishing by rubbing the area under his arms dry. Pierce's body was a contrast between the brown of his suntan and the paler, unexposed areas of his skin. By contrast, Pip was conscious that he had only the faintest of tans, fading rapidly from just a brief two weeks on the beach that summer. Along with many other things: his age, his small size, his comparatively pale complexion, Pip felt that he did not fit into his new school with its army of sun kissed boys.

Trying to remain inconspicuous, Pip examined Pierce at close range. Pierce was interesting to him in a way that he did not even partly understand. Pierce's body was that of an adolescent, he was part boy, but part something else, a balance between athlete and something more intriguing. A dancer perhaps?

When Pip looked around the humid semi-darkness that was the changing room at the other boys, his was an expression of open-eyed awe, fear even. Their bodies were changing, their limbs longer, their muscles now defined. In contrast the younger boys like Pip were still soft and pale and yet to reach the grace of movement of some of the older boys.

Despite the changing room supposedly operating in monastic silence, the room was now filled with the noise of boys. Pierce, now sitting down to dry the balls of his feet, decided to up the stakes with Longhurst. He tipped his head back and shouted another challenge over the barrier created by the clothes.

"I'll get you, Longhurst. Just you wait until later."

"I will be waiting, Pierce, if that's what you really want."

The other boys grinned; another battle would be fought shortly, if not in the changing room itself, then probably just outside in the Quad that marked the centre of the school. As Pip was a new boy, Christopher Pierce ignored the First Former sitting beside him for the most part. Another Sixth Former, perhaps goaded by Pierce's display of omnipotence, flicked his towel at Pierce.

"You're a fine one, Pierce."

Caught unawares, Pierce instinctively moved sharply sideways until he pushed up against Pip, now firmly trapped in the corner.

"Mind your own beeswax, Hawkins."

Pip felt the warmth of Pierce's wet body brush against him as Pierce used his purchase to push himself back up. Pierce turned briefly and smiled at Pip.

"Sorry, Cox."

Pip hated being called by his surname, even if it was being used in a friendly way. Pierce went after Hawkins, the other boy. A brief flurry, a whirl of limbs and the other boy surrendered his towel, which Pierce promptly threw on the floor.

"Now clear off."

Pierce returned triumphant, sat on the lockers and started to dress. As he did so, he turned to Pip.

"You'd better get into the shower, otherwise, you'll catch a cold."

Pierce was, like most of the older boys, naturally kind to new boys. After all, they too had been new boys only a few years earlier.

The skirmish between the Sixth Form boys was over in an instant and was the only time Pierce ever acknowledged the younger boy in the one term they were neighbours in the changing room.

With Pierce now engaged further down the corridor, Pip was left alone to contemplate this all too brief encounter before joining his class mates in the shower. That left Pierce and company to dress in the now enforced silence that Mr Barnes, the elderly master in charge, decided to enforce. Exasperated by the rising din Mr Barnes blew his whistle and shouted for silence.

"Boys, cut the noise. I can hardly hear myself think! The next boy who makes so much as a single squeak is going to find himself outside the Head's study, dressed or undressed. Now silence the lot of you."

The threat from Mr Barnes did its trick. The changing room rapidly descended into silence apart from the sound of dressing and undressing.

"Black lace shoes for going outside of school, brown sandals for inside, brown lace up shoes for playing outside on the grass, white gym shoes for PE, football boots for outside sports and a pair of slippers for bedtime in the dormitory."

Pip listened as carefully as he could and tried to take in what Matron was telling him and the other First Form boys. So many pairs of shoes for Pip to remember, but he knew he would soon got used to it. He was good at that, getting used to things, like moving to a different house or to a different town with his family. He was what they called 'adaptable'.

Boarding school was something that Pip knew was coming. Eventually, that hot September day almost a week ago, he had bade his parents goodbye and started on his first day at boarding school. His father shook his hand in an encouraging grown up way.

"Goodbye Pip, you will get used to it in no time at all. Believe me, I did."

His mother at least kissed him.

"Goodbye, son, do look after yourself and do write to us."

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, he has to. It's compulsory, isn't it, Pip?"

"I suppose so."

Pip didn't really know, but he looked up to his father as expert in all things. That was what fathers were to their young sons, infallible. Within a few days, Pip found himself becoming used to his new school and its rituals and practices. The Rocks Prep School was situated aloof and alone off the St Ives to Lands End road on the north coast of Cornwall. The converted farm buildings of the estate surrounded the main schoolhouse. The playing fields in turn extended down to the coast to the headland known locally as Parson's Leap. Between the school and the sea lay the coastal path from St Ives to Zennor.

The grand main building had been the home of the local squire until his premature death in the sugar plantations of the West Indies. The house was then purchased by a local parson who swiftly became involved in a scandal. After the death of his first wife, the parson found a young and pretty second wife. Unable to consummate their relationship, the marriage failed when the second wife sought the comfort and attention of one of the estate's stable lads. When this relationship was uncovered, the lovers fled the country. They were last heard of catching a boat to Newfoundland, a baby on its way. Shortly afterwards, ruined by drink and unable to bear the shame, the parson decided to end it all. Fortified with whisky he leapt from the headland, which was now forever to bear witness to his fate as 'Parson's Leap'.

Following the parson's suicide, the estate fell into ruins because of a dispute over the parson's will. Eventually, two generations later, the estate was finally sold in 1938 just before the beginning of the Second World War. The purchaser was a Hampstead based school, whose headmaster saw Cornwall as a safe place to escape the looming threat of a war in Europe. The buildings were refurbished and in September 1939 the estate reopened as a school called St Finian's, taking its pupils from the dangers of wartime London to the comparative safety of Cornwall.

After a successful incarnation as St Finian's, the school slowly declined after the war in the hands of an increasingly grim fixed-faced headmaster. In the late 1950s, after over a decade of decline, the old headmaster admitted defeat and put the school up for sale. This sale attracted the attentions of a young naval captain looking for a new challenge. Captain Porter aimed to turn the school into one that he would have wanted to attend himself as a boy. Freed from the constraints placed on such schools in the competitive market in London and the South East, Captain Porter set about making the school an attractive option for parents seeking something slightly less formal than the schools they remembered from their own childhood. To start with, he chose a new name, 'The Rocks'. Then Captain Porter set out his ambitions in the prospectus.

"Our location on the North Cornish Coast has been chosen to provide the best atmosphere not just for learning, but also for adventure surrounded as we are by landscaped grounds and the stupendous site right by the sea."

The brochure was full of promises of 'adventure, exploration, and self development' and the like. It was designed, successfully, to attract those parents who wanted something slightly different for their sons – sufficient to justify the undoubted inconvenience of a day's journey by train from London and the Home Counties.

The conversion of The Rocks into its new more easy-going atmosphere was much aided by another important event in Captain Porter's life, his marriage to his new young French wife, Annette. With his new wife taking responsibility for the domestic side of the school, Captain Porter worked hard to change the school from its austere post wartime existence into something more welcoming. With the advice of his wife, Captain Porter shrewdly gambled that he could attract the approval of mothers looking for something more genteel than the schools their husbands had attended. As a result of their endeavours The Rocks began to attract the sons of all sorts of parents to its slightly nonconformist existence.

The appeal started with the uniform, which was heavily influenced by the Navy with navy jumpers standing in for jackets and ties and duffel coats instead of raincoats. The idea was to promote a more informal existence at the school. But more important than the uniform were the staff, recruited not just for academic excellence, but also for their abilities to handle the boys entrusted to them with humanity and perhaps something more.

The school, built mainly of the local granite with the exception of the timber framed barn, was arranged around an open quadrangle facing northwest looking down over the sea across a formal garden. There were playing fields to the west stepping down to the coast path in a series of ever-smaller levels, until the slope ruled out any semblance of a flat field at which point Mother Nature was allowed to take its own course down to the cliff edge. In this wild, untamed area, full of peaty bogs, large boulders, reeds, bracken and the occasional small copse was the area where the boys were sometimes allowed to play the sorts of unstructured, but intricate games boys often choose to play. The school's land went right to the coast. The only other human intervention was the coast path that came inland at Wicca Cove cutting across the headland at Parson's Leap with its ruined chapel, Celtic Cross and burial mound and skirting inland above Chapel Cove. The inland routing of the path meant that the school controlled the access to the coast at this point and therefore had exclusive use of its own private beach at Chapel Cove before the path returned to the coast at the next cove beyond Star Point.

The rather grand granite built squire's house was now restored as the school's offices and senior teaching block directly facing the sea over the formal lawn. To the west side of the Quadrangle was the big wooden and stone barn, the south end with the gym with changing rooms underneath and the north sea facing end with the assembly hall with dining room underneath. The east side of the quadrangle was the junior classroom block, converted from stables where most of the classes were situated. The top two floors of the main house and the junior classroom block were devoted to twelve dormitories for the boys. Slightly separated from the main school complex, to the east was the original more humble farmhouse now providing living quarters for those unmarried masters who did not have accommodation in the dormitory blocks. In front of the farmhouse were a tennis court and a small changing room. Yet farther to the east was a walled vegetable garden, off limits to the boys. Lastly, right at the eastern edge of the estate, perched on its own promontory near the road with its own private garden looking out to sea, was the former estate manager's house, a fine granite building, now the Headmaster's accommodation. The whole site was a wild, but friendly place, much loved by boys and staff alike.

"Come on, shuffle over me, we all have to sit in this line."

Pip felt himself grateful to be guided by Clancy. They sat cross-legged on the floor in the first row in the assembly hall for the school. It was all very strange at first, assemblies, boys called shadows who followed you about, and the various adults who ran the school. Gradually Pip found a few anchors to help guide him through the unfamiliar paths. The bookish Clancy acted as one anchor and the blimpish Owen acted as the other. Evening prayers were the most formal gathering of the day at school. The boys gathered by year, First Formers at the front and Sixth Formers at the back. The hall echoed with noise when the boys first entered, but soon silenced once the twelve teaching staff arrived and lined either side of the assembled boys.

Captain Porter stood at the centre of the stage, a lectern in front of him. Although not a believer, he led the boys in prayer as always. As it was the beginning of term, his wife Annette, known as Mrs Porter by the boys, was in attendance. Apart from working as the school's administrator Mrs Porter also acted as a part time French teacher. The junior dormitories were an area Mrs Porter ruled serenely with Matron. Together they worked to make sure the younger boys coped with separation from their parents. By this time of the day, Pip was not alone amongst the younger boys in blinking with tiredness as he held his hands together in prayer. He went through the words tonelessly, never stopping to think what they meant in the slightly archaic English in which they were spoken.

"Our Father, who art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come,

Thy will be done,

On earth as it is in Heaven

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, the power and

the glory forever and ever.

Amen."

Once prayers were finished, the boys stood up in a shuffling cacophony whilst announcements were made, either by Captain Porter or Mr Durrant, the Deputy Headmaster.

"In view of the weather, there will be no outside time this evening. Everyone is to stay in their respective teaching blocks where they will be supervised by their form masters."

Mr Durrant spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

"Phillips, keep still boy!"

All eyes turned to the Third Former, who tried to look innocent, fooling no one. At The Rocks, apart from Mrs Porter there was only one other female teacher, Mrs Prince. Mrs Prince stood out in her artist's smock. Pip would develop a soft spot for Mrs Prince, as she was defiantly unorthodox as a teacher. For Mrs Prince teaching was merely something to pay the rent. Down in St Ives her pottery was being sold in some of the top galleries at very respectable prices. One of these days she was going to be discovered and leave, she told herself, but in the meantime Mrs Prince taught at the school in the morning and spun her potter's wheel in the afternoons. Pip's artistic ability was something that she soon picked up. She quickly enrolled him in her art club, keen to develop his skills as a modeller and possibly sculptor in due course.

"Pip, dear boy, I have got all these new fabrics to try out. I want you to do a collage of the sea and the coast for me. I think you will be good at landscapes."

Pip allowed himself to be volunteered. He liked art and he liked stories, mostly told to him by Mr Barnes, the oldest teacher at the school who would teach Pip Latin and English. Mr Barnes was so old his weather beaten face was cracking into fissures. A life long teacher with an affinity with the minds of boys, Mr Barnes was the sole survivor of the school's Second World War evacuation from London. At the beginning of the War, Mr Barnes was considered a non-combatant in view of a slight limp. True, he missed the capital, its discreet bars with obliging male companionship, but he had grown to like his peaceful existence amongst the cacophony of boys in Cornwall. Over time Mr Barnes built a life of tea dances amongst bored divorcees and widows and had set upon regular visits to the cultural delights of Europe as a way of filling the gaps that existed between terms at the school. He had long ceased yearning to return to his native Vancouver as what family he once had, had now all died out. As he approached retirement, Mr Barnes acknowledged to himself that The Rocks was his home, the staff and especially the boys his family. The rest of the teaching staff were made up of men, many fresh from the better universities, sprinkled with older teachers such as Mr Durrant. Third in command was Mr Wallace, the science and PE teacher. Together these two also ran the dormitories.

Currently Mr Durrant as Deputy Headmaster looked after the senior boys with Mr Wallace looking after the juniors with the help of Mrs Porter. With this job came a study and their own accommodation for each in their respective blocks. The Rocks settled into its normal bedtime routine. The boys were put to bed by age. The First Formers went to bed at seven thirty and Sixth Formers by nine thirty. Before lights out, the junior boys were separated into their dormitories where they spent the last half hour with their dorm colleagues before Captain Porter or his wife came up and said prayers. Mrs Porter always visited Pip's First Form dormitory last thing at night. She had a calming influence, checking that all was well and looking for any signs of distress or worry.

"Well what have we been up to today?" she would invariably ask. The boys would answer with tales of games or sport or funny things that happened. Listening to their responses, Mrs Porter would cast her eye around the dormitory and look for the quieter boys and gently check. As with most evenings, she sat on the corner of Pip's bunk and spoke to him personally.

"So what have we been doing today, Pip?"

"Lessons, Miss, and I scored a goal."

"Oh, that's good, isn't it?"

During the week, the morning bell went at seven fifteen. With that the older boys trooped into the first of their two daily showers a day. For junior boys like Pip, they just showered in the evening or after games.

"Come on, boys, rise and shine. There is a whole new day ahead of you." Mr Wallace came in and pulled the curtains and prodded the feet of any boy who still seemed to be sleeping. For Pip mornings were an agony having to be prised unwillingly out of bed almost every day. He followed the other junior boys to the dormitory washroom, which they shared with 1W. Toilets one side, showers the other with a twin row of sinks facing each other in the middle where the boys had to fight for room or wait for another boy to move out of the way. Pip invariably found himself one of the last boys to find a place at the sinks.

After making their beds, something Captain Porter himself taught them how to do, it was downstairs and across the Quad for a substantial breakfast, probably Pip's favourite meal if it featured bacon, which it did at least twice a week.

"Yuk! Porridge."

Captain Porter was keen on porridge, not a food overly admired by others in the school.

"Owen, pass the sugar quick."

"The Scots put salt on theirs."

"Well, I want sugar if that is all the same to you."

"Oh, as you wish Pip." Clancy was full of information, even if it seemed useless at the time.

Morning assembly quickly followed breakfast. Assembly was a tedious affair given over to at least one hymn and two prayers, followed by various announcements to the whole school. As an added ordeal, most of the older boys were expected to read a short lesson once or twice a term.

Once the morning ceremonies had been completed, the real purpose of the school came into being. Five lessons before lunch: three before morning break and two after. Captain Porter correctly decided that it was best to get most of the lessons out of the way before lunch. Lunchtimes followed the lessons, never soon enough for most boys as they were ravenous by the time a quarter to one came. It was the main meal of the day, soup or salad followed by a main course and desert or fruit. Mrs Porter made sure it was healthy enough to keep most mothers happy even if the boys complained about the quantities of cabbage and greens they were forced to eat. Pip along with a lot of the other boys, could not stand cabbage or even worse, broad beans.

After lunch there was a brief period of quiet whilst there was a reading period, older boys with their choice of books. The youngest, Pip included, were given reading material suited to their age and progress at reading, some slower than others. Pip had been identified early on as a slow reader. At home he had only really started reading at the age of six. Twice a week Mrs Porter or Mrs Prince would sit Pip down in an otherwise empty classroom and hear him read for fifteen minutes or so. Pip fumbled with his words to begin, but he was now beginning to make rapid progress spurred on by the school's set of illustrated Tin-Tin books. After the relative peace of the reading period, the pace picked up as all the boys went to the changing room to prepare for an afternoon of sports or at least sports like activity.

The First Form boys bobbled around the team list on the wall in the changing room.

"Clancy, you're Captain again."

"That's because I can at least kick the ball."

"So can I."

"Yes, but how far and in which direction?"

Pip felt crushed, but then Clancy smiled. "Not that I can either. It is all a bit tricky isn't it?"

Games were followed by biscuits and squash, then two further lessons. Once the school day proper finished, there was an evening meal, prep and then a period of free time, often devoted to more sport in the warmer months and indoor club activities in the colder months.

"Pip?"

It was Owen, already slightly plump and pompous. He was sat at a small table in the dormitory one evening, a draughts board set up. Pip, not otherwise engaged, came down from the bunk above.

"Well?"

Owen was still in his full school garb with his shoes still on. Pip had long since lost his school kit to the locker at the end of the bunk.

"A game of draughts?"

Pip, never one to be unsociable, agreed. Apart from Clancy, Owen was his first proper friend. Pip stuck with Owen even when the other First Formers decided that he was the odd one out.

To Pip draughts was a new game. He let Owen teach him the rules and the dodges of the game. It was a satisfying way to end the day before Pip ascended to his top bunk, a Tin-Tin comic book in hand, his current choice of reading material. Mrs Porter came up as usual, fifteen minutes when she would hurry them into pyjamas and get them into bed before her accented goodnight, always the same.

"Good night, boys, sweet dreams."

"Good night, Mrs Porter," would come a ragged chorus. A quick look around the dormitory to satisfy herself that the boys would settle and then Mrs Porter would put the lights out. Silence was absolute to start with, but in time whispered conversations would start. At the centre of the conversations were the Johnson twins from Form 1B. Identical and inseparable in every way, they had the luxury of never being lonely as they were always together.

"Kit, why did you put our books on the second year pile for Mr Barnes?"

"Because he said to do so. He said put them on the left of the desk."

"He didn't half get in a bate with you, though. You went bright red."

"Well, he meant _his_ left, not _my_ left."

A third voice came in after Kit and Robbie. Clancy was the dorm's brightest boy, normally quiet, but occasionally revealing a streak of mischievousness, which he kept well hidden from the teaching staff. "Since neither of you know left from right, how can you be sure?"

The natural leader of their year was Pip's Shadow, Peter Morgan, another boy from Form 1B, a full half year older than Pip. For some reason Pip didn't like Peter even though he was a fellow member of the art club and could sketch anything in a few deft strokes if he so wanted. "You could always mark yourselves, left and right. A big L and a big R on your wrist, that would do the trick."

Pip sometimes listened to these conversations, but more often than not he was one of the first boys to fall asleep. That night however, Pip awoke pre-dawn and puzzled over his vision of Pierce in the changing room the previous afternoon. It was a pleasant vision, something Pip could not explain to himself. Pip suddenly awoke with a jerk from his dream state, all pleasurable thoughts forgotten, drowned out by the ringing of the morning bell and the familiar prod from Mr Wallace.

"Come on, Cox, wakey, wakey."

Pip was now stood at the front of the class reading slowly from a book. It was Friday afternoon, the last lesson of the week. Mr Barnes watched. The passage was difficult and Pip was struggling. With increasing frequency, he intervened to correct Pip's stumbles. The boy was tired and the class was beginning to fidget as Pip was going so slowly. Eventually Mr Barnes stepped in. "Okay Pip, that will do for now."

"But I haven't finished the page yet, sir."

"I don't think we have time today, perhaps on Monday?"

The bell rang, to save Pip, already flushed and flustered, any further torment. As the other boys rushed off, Pip fumbled over his things. Mr Barnes was his favourite teacher and he had failed him. Pip opened the lid to his desk, he wanted to hide, his vision blurred as he felt tears start to well up. Mr Barnes looked up and then came over when he saw Pip rub his eyes.

"Oh, Pip, it wasn't that bad. It was too hard for you. One for Clancy, I think. Here."

Mr Barnes took out his large monogrammed handkerchief. Pip took the handkerchief and dried his eyes. He looked anxious. Perhaps he was never meant to be a good reader. Mr Barnes was upset that he had knocked some of the confidence out of Pip. Taking pity, he decided on a special treat, some cake in his room in the Master's house. Not strictly allowed, but then again not banned either, he reasoned. After tea and before prep started, Mr Barnes caught Pip as he left the dining hall.

"Pip, dear boy, I have got something to show you. Why don't you come with me?"

"Oh what, sir?"

"It's a little surprise."

The word 'surprise' pricked the ears of Peter, who was walking just behind with the twins. He wondered what the surprise might be? No one questioned Mr Barnes leading Pip towards the old farmhouse. In deference to his seniority, Mr Barnes had a sizeable corner room downstairs overlooking the sea. As well as a bed and sink tucked in one corner, there was a sitting area and a desk. In the opposite corner was a large cage with two budgerigars. The birds were the surprise that Mr Barnes had for Pip. Pip admired the two birds, gently tapping the cage and placing a small amount of birdseed into the cage.

"What are they called, sir?"

"Oh, the one on the left is called Fimbo and the one on the right Pipsqueak because he complains all day long."

"Like me then?"

"I named him after you, not that you complain I hasten to add."

"Well, not really, it's Philip, but everyone calls me Pip, even my parents."

"Well, you are not a Pipsqueak, you're Pip. That is quite different, let me assure you."

"No, sir. I mean, yes sir."

"Come here and sit down. We have a little bit of time."

Pip's curiosity satisfied, Mr Barnes sat in the more comfortable of the armchairs with Pip in the smaller chair. A half eaten cake sat between them on the coffee table. Pip had been a model of politeness and surreptitiously had even cleared up his crumbs whilst Mr Barnes rattled on about birds, ancient relatives and the like. The boy glowed in his company, his earlier reading agonies now forgotten. Time passed and then Mr Barnes realised that Pip should be elsewhere by now. He groaned theatrically and picked up the plates.

"Come on, Pip, you should be in prep. I will have to make up some excuse for you."

Pip stood up and went ahead to the door. As he turned the doorknob, Mr Barnes did something he had never done before with any other boy. He leant forward and kissed Pip chastely on the top of his forehead, just once, just briefly. Pip looked slightly surprised. He was not used to being kissed by anyone other than his mother.

"Thank you, sir. I mean thank you for the cake."

Mr Barnes paused as he realised the enormity of what he had just done.

"Come on, boy, enough. Time for you to be in prep." Hastily Mr Barnes opened the door. Pausing he checked to see that no one else was around and then he sent a slightly puzzled Pip on his way.

"Off you go, quickly now." Mr Barnes turned, his thoughts in turmoil.

"Playing with fire, you stupid old fool," he muttered to himself as he carefully picked up some of the crumbs from the carpet and fed them to the two birds, sitting patiently side by side on their perch.

As Pip raced into Prep, he bumped into Peter Morgan who had been sent to find him.

"Well, the adventurer returns, does he?"

"What adventurer?"

"You, silly. What have you been doing with Mr Barnes?"

"Oh, nothing. He just showed me his birds, that's all."

"He's never done that before that I know of."

Pip didn't wait, but made his way into prep. He felt special. That same evening Mr Barnes sat in his room in front of the electric fire, a bottle of whisky half drained on the table beside him, full of regret at inviting Pip into his room. In over forty years of teaching he had not done that before.

Mr Barnes talked to himself a lot these days. "After all this time I am becoming a sentimental old fool." Mr Barnes thought the matter through. "It mustn't happen again. Indeed, I must act as though it never even happened." He made up an excuse, if the subject came up.

"Oh, I was just brushing some crumbs off his forehead. My hand was damp. That's all."

With that excuse, Mr Barnes hoped that it would not go any further than that, even if Pip did say something. However, Mr Barnes guessed correctly that Pip was not going to say anything about the visit to anyone.

*****

Chapter 2 - Lent Term 1964

The First Year boys in Form 1A ran up the steep slopes of Trendrine, the hill behind the school. The rain had started again, a Cornish mizzle, horizontal and biting in the January cold. A now confident Clancy led the way; he had an objective in mind.

"Come on. If we get up to the next wall, we can see if the coast is clear."

Clear of Form 1B was the message. The boys in the First Year had already formed into cliques based on Forms. The First Year boys were split into two. 1A had been given a ten minute start on the 1B boys, who always seemed larger and sportier than the boys in 1A.

That afternoon, with the ground too wet for rugby, Mr Durrant chose a cross-country run to toughen up his young charges. For the younger boys there was little more than what he termed a 'scramble', but for the older boys, the cross-country run had a purpose. He wanted them to develop stamina and speed as at the end of the term there was the contest for the Staffin challenge cup.

Armed with his stopwatch, Mr Durrant had sent the older boys from the Second Form and up off on a longer run starting along the coast path before heading up the other side of Trendrine before returning to school. That left him with just the First Year boys on Trendrine for now. Being an old hand with young boys, Mr Durrant knew the best way to get the First Year boys running around on a cold and wet January day was to divide the boys up into two teams and tell them to capture the fort at the top of Trendrine.

Clancy looked around his small team of followers, all from Form 1A. He was pleased to be in charge. As they struggled up the steep slope, Clancy told them his battle plan, which he did in the form of a map drawn out in the mud with the aid of a stick.

"While a small group of us takes the East Path, out of sight, we use the main group to lure the others up the direct route to that narrow bit." Clancy indicated with his sweater-covered hand. "The main group is very important. They make lots of noise and wave their sticks to stop the other group getting past. See, it's all brambles either side there. It's a very important role."

The 1A boys all nodded. Clancy was always right. Clancy turned to the two boys he entrusted with the toughest task of acting as decoy on the West Path. "When they see the main lot blocking the path, they will try and use one of the other paths. So that's where you two come in to play. Jonathan, you look like a stick waver. Pip, you go along as anchorman. Your job is to make sure they don't get through on the West Path. Owen you come with me. We are going to the top and that way we can leave Jonathan and Pip to entrap them."

"Entrap?"

Owen did not know the word. It was a question Pip had wanted to ask too, but had stopped. He did not want to appear stupid.

"Trap, snare, look it up in that dictionary you got for Christmas. I'll show you this evening if you like."

"Oh, yes please, Clangers."

Down below the boys from 1B were now visible two fields away, starting on the lower slopes of Trendrine. As they split, Clancy gave his orders to the main group once they reached the top of a particularly steep part of the direct path.

"Stay here, look menacing and make a lot of noise to keep them distracted."

Led by Clancy, the lead party of four Form 1A boys made it to the next wall, climbed over the ancient stile where they were to split again. Clancy made them shelter from the wind and rain whilst he revealed the rest of his plan.

"We can take the East Path from a bit further along here and still see where the other lot are. You two go on. It's essential you block them from using the West Path."

Pip and Jonathan nodded assent and started to set off. Clancy gave more instructions, as they kept low to avoid being seen. "Hide the other side of the stile until the last minute. Make a lot of noise if they come up; bash your sticks, then run round the hill to that patch with the gorse. They are bound to chase you. We need ten minutes to get up there. So you need to keep them occupied."

When Pip and Jonathan reached their allotted hiding place, they hid behind the wall. It was freezing cold and beginning to rain again. Jonathan shivered and tucked his hands in his armpits. "Pip, see anything?"

"No, nothing yet."

The steam from their breath might give them away. If something didn't start happening soon, they were going to start getting cold despite the boys wearing two rugby shirts apiece.

From his viewpoint by the coast road, Mr Durrant watched the younger boys through binoculars. Most of the 1A boys were slowly making their way up the main path. Meanwhile a smaller group of four boys from 1A were now heading towards the East Path, out of sight of the Form 1B boys below. Fooled, the Form 1B boys followed the main party of 1A boys on the direct route. That group might not stop them forever, but they would be delayed long enough for the smaller group of 1A boys to capture the flag and win the game. As he watched, the smaller group split again into two pairs. One pair with Jonathan Pierce went west to a strategic spot by the foot stile. The other pair were making for the top heading east, careful to keep themselves hidden at all times. Pip risked a look over the wall ever so often. No sign. Where were they? It dawned on him, that despite Clancy's plan, they may have still have been outflanked by the 1B boys with Peter Morgan in charge and the Johnson twins as his lieutenants.

Peter spoke, he also had a plan. "We are not going to let those 1A boys get there first."

Peter sent most of the 1B boys up the direct and steepest path where they scrambled and slipped their way up the hill, deliberately making a lot of noise and taking their time. Meanwhile Peter took Kit and Robbie Johnson along the side path to the West and hoped to outflank the 1A boys, unaware that Clancy had anticipated that.

"How much longer Pip?" Jonathan looked to Pip as the leader. After all he was older by almost two months. Somehow that seemed important to Jonathan. Both boys were already enthusiastically covered in mud and scarred with encounters with the brambles and gorse that covered the hill.

"Shush! I think I can hear something."

Jonathan remained crouched down and hugged his knees to keep warm. He was the smallest boy in the school, having joined at the beginning of term. Pip liked him instantly. Jonathan was always keen to play and always up to mischief, sometimes incurring the wrath of the staff that, despite themselves, mostly smiled at his antics. Matron, often the target of Jonathan's mischief, could not hide her affection for him even when threatening (and occasionally carrying out) retribution on the little First Former.

The crackling of bracken was getting louder. It was definitely coming from the path below them. Jonathan could hear it now. He looked around him and saw what he wanted, a branch about two feet long half hidden amongst the wet grass. He picked it up and inched up next to Pip. Pip pushed him down with his hand, putting a finger to his lips, to signal silence. "We want to surprise them. Keep very quiet until I give the signal."

Jonathan hunkered down as the noise increased.

"This is the last stile. Let's check first." Peter was leading his lieutenants. Shouts and yells were coming from the main path; the main group of 1B boys had just made contact with the 1A boys at their chosen ambush point.

Pip counted with his fingers. One finger. Two fingers. On the third Pip and Jonathan stood up on the stile. Jonathan was waved his stick in warning. Peter was no more than five yards away.

"If you don't clear off, I am going to hit you with this."

Despite being caught by surprise, Peter stood his ground, the twins backing him up. Jonathan was considerably smaller than any of them, comical in a slightly oversized football shirt, mud smeared on his face, two short parallel lines each side. Pip, was standing behind Jonathan, his hold on a smaller stick less sure than Jonathan, only one hand not two.

"Oh yes?"

Peter hoped the two 1A boys would run off. Instead, Jonathan brandished his stick vertically, two hands holding it securely. The rain was turning to a mist, lighter and no longer cutting into the boys.

"Want to try, Morgan?" Jonathan started to taunt the boys below, his voice squeaky with excitement. "Come on, show us how tough you really are. Come up here."

"No, you come down here." Helpfully, Morgan confirmed that he felt disadvantaged as the 1A boys were standing on the top of the stile giving them a height advantage of at least three feet. The twins followed Peter's lead and stood up. They also had war paint on their faces, a line down the nose and a vertical line on each cheek. It looked suitably tribal. Pip stood slightly behind Jonathan as he began to beat a rhythm of war on the dead tree beside him using his stick.

Jonathan added his own embellishments. Every fourth beat he accentuated and then every fourth bar he doubled up the rhythm using two sticks. He was a natural percussionist. The noise kept the lower group focused on the 1A boys as planned.

"Come on, Pip, now!"

With an opportunity for a fight beckoning, Jonathan could wait no longer. With a high-pitched war cry he leapt down from the stile on to the ground and rushed along the path on the upper side of the wall, but only as far as the bramble patch, standing at the top. Pip followed. He climbed half way down the stone steps before judging it safe to jump the remaining three feet and ran after Jonathan to back him up. It was a challenge that Morgan and the twins could not ignore. They abandoned their ascent and rushed along the path after the 1A boys only to realise that Jonathan and Pip were now stationed at the top of a steep and muddy part of the path with no sidetracks.

"Come on then!" Jonathan, increasingly confident, threw out his challenge.

"Yes, come on!" At last Pip found his voice and copied Jonathan in waving his sticks. Peter and the twins were now trapped into either a fight or a humiliating retreat. Pip and Jonathan stood their ground as Jonathan continued to make threats until Clancy appeared above them, far up the hill, trophy flag in hand.

"They've got the flag!"

Peter and the twins realised not only had they lost the flag, but that they were also cornered on a slippery slope with Jonathan and Pip bearing down on them. Given no alternative, the three older boys made a dash through an uncomfortably thick patch of gorse to escape.

"We'll get you," Peter shouted in retreat as he scraped and tangled his way through the gorse and brambles, his shirt ripping as he went. The twins fared no better. Humiliated, they made their way back to school trophy-less. The day had not gone well for Form 1B.

Jonathan was triumphant. "We won the war, in 1964!" he sang to no one in particular as they too returned to school in search of the warmth of the communal showers, the red flag in his hand, a deserved display of his role in the victory.

Mr Durrant was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill to see all the First Year boys safely across the road. He could see the cuts and grazes and guessed what had been going on. It was something that he normally turned a blind eye to. These days the boys always seemed to be playing at war. It had replaced cowboys and Indians.

Jonathan had arrived that term. He was the last of four Pierce brothers and the youngest brother of Christopher Pierce who had left at the end of Pip's first term at The Rocks. Right from the start Jonathan stood out. He was instantly one of the most noticeable boys in the school with a shock of almost pure-white hair. Legend had it that Jonathan had been streaky blond like Pip until he fell out of a tree at the age of seven. Almost overnight Jonathan's hair lost all colour and became snow white, contrasting with his tanned complexion.

In the cacophony of the showers the boys played with the jets of warm water. Pip was in the corner with Jonathan sharing a bar of soap between them. The boys set to cleaning off the Trendrine mud and trying to sooth the scratches from the gorse and brambles that covered their legs and arms.

Apart from his hair Jonathan was a smaller version of his brother Christopher with an athlete's body. His short stature meant he was good at anything to do with gymnastics. Jonathan climbed like a monkey, could do cartwheels, head stands, hand springs and even things which no other boy at The Rocks could dream of like back somersaults and multiple forward somersaults across the gym floor, something he would regularly do without the protection of the gym mats as Jonathan had no fears about safety. In the end, spying other boys clumsily attempting the same manoeuvres, Mr Wallace called a halt to Jonathan's displays. "No thank you, Pierce. It's not you I worry about. It's just that some of the other boys might try and copy what you can do and they can't."

Jonathan stood in front of Mr Wallace. As always he was perfectly poised in his PE shorts, bare foot, as was his preference, both hands crossed on top of his head. "Yes, sir, I'm sorry."

"Well, I hope we can bring some of the other boys up to your level of gymnastics one of these days, but in the meantime, only do gymnastics when I say. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jonathan was not a naturally obedient boy; he was more curious and adventurous than that. He took risks all the time and shrugged when sometimes he had to accept the consequences of some of his more rash decisions.

That afternoon, as they dressed, Jonathan decided that he wanted to involve Pip in a new adventure. It was raining – they were having a wet new year and Jonathan was bored when he could not go outside.

"I've got something to show you," Jonathan ventured when he was sure no one else was listening.

"What's that?"

"I've found a new place, a place where we can hide out."

"Oh, okay." Pip wondered what Jonathan had to show him this time? A hideout was a top priority for Jonathan as part of his overall view of their world that saw the school as two secret armies at war with each other. The one side was led by Peter Morgan and the twins, the other side led by Jonathan with Pip, Owen and Clancy.

Pip was not so sure about this version of reality, but mostly he went along with it as this rivalry led to many exciting games which formed a diversion from the constant round of lessons and sports that otherwise kept the boys busy.

After prep and supper Jonathan took Pip exploring whilst the older boys were kept occupied with more organised activities. They went in the entrance to the barn that formed the school hall and gym. Their pretext if challenged was to fetch some ping-pong balls. They went up to the main first floor level. Jonathan held his fingers to his lips to signal absolute silence. Sure that the coast was clear he gently pushed open the doors, first to the gym and then the hall. Both were empty. They were alone. Jonathan led the way down the steps to the changing room and dining hall underneath. They did not check the dining area as the clatter of pans told the boys that the catering staff were still clearing up. Pip was nervous; they were surely out of bounds?

The lights were on in the changing room as they made their way along the windowless room to the end where the showers were. The area was still steamy from earlier. In one corner there was a small door Pip had never noticed before.

"This is it. I saw it open the other day."

Pip hoped it was locked so that they could go back, but Jonathan knew better. He turned the handle slowly so it made no noise and gently opened the door. Inside there was a roar from the boiler and the all-embracing smell of fuel oil.

"Come on in."

Pip followed, a low light coming from a small window. The boys crossed the boiler room to another door which opened to a set of steps leading up under the stage in the main school hall. As they explored, Pip could see the potential. It was a mostly forgotten storage area, scenery and props from school plays, old broken desks and other miscellany. The boys poked around, exploring the space.

"None of this stuff is ever moved from here, except for the school play which was at the end of last term. It would be a great place for a camp."

"A camp indoors?"

"Yes, for when it is wet or in the evening." Jonathan looked at the dark dusty space, illuminated with one dimming torch borrowed from Owen.

"Well so long as no one else knows, even Owen and Clancy."

"Okay, just our camp, a real secret."

"We need to rearrange things a bit, though, to create a hide. Here, help me shift these." Jonathan indicated two stage blocks each the size of a hay bale. Pip grabbed the other side and helped him move it away from the wall creating a dead space about two feet wide. Over the next two days, the boys organised the space. Once inside there was a narrow crawling space, first to the front of the stage and then left, parallel to the front to what appeared to be a dead end, but by pushing the stage block you could enter a passage to the back and then to their den on the far side. It was a perfect space for a den, even heated by the hot water pipes. With a crack clear through to the front it was possible to glimpse what was happening in the assembly hall.

On the first day as they emerged, they checked themselves over in the mirror in the showers. The dust had created smudges on their faces. Jonathan, who was more into imaginative games, realised what they looked like. "We look like pirates."

"The Pirates of Penzance." Pip was vaguely aware of something of that name.

"The Pirates, that's a good name for a gang. That's what we'll call ourselves."

They stood side by side admiring their piratical appearance before cleaning off the incriminating dirt and returning back to the more mundane world of the rest of the school. The Pirates. It was an excellent name for a gang and indeed it was used for times of war and adventure and when the boys made camps out in the rough grounds that formed the fringe of the school estate. Owen and Clancy soon joined Pip and Jonathan. Four seemed the right number for a gang, small enough to be elite, but large enough to be a proper gang. However, the hideout under the stage was something shared just between Pip and Jonathan. Inside their hide out, Pip and Jonathan let their imaginations work. Sometimes they were pirates on the high seas; sometimes they were in planes flying over enemy territory carrying out dangerous missions as they lay side by side on a scrap of carpet.

Pip could see nothing in the dark, but he could feel the presence of his friend beside him, it was a presence that excited him in some mysterious way that he did not yet understand.

* * *

For a few boys, Jonathan being one of them, morning assembly always had a risk attached. At the end of the formalities, after the announcements had been made and most of the teaching staff departed, Mr Wallace or Mr Durrant would appear with any pieces of games kit or clothing found away from the owner's peg or locker.

"Pierce J, your change shirt, on the floor again. That's the second time this term."

A note went into Mr Wallace's diary, another debit for Jonathan. Shamefaced, Jonathan went and collected his now very dirty shirt from Mr Wallace.

"Sorry, sir."

Minor rule infractions earned debits just as good work earned credits. Too many debits and a boy might make a visit to see Mr Durrant or Captain Porter in their studies. Credits on the other hand earned the occasional treat, a trip out at the weekend perhaps to the cinema.

"Reward as well as punishment," was the idea Captain Porter had with this system. To Mr Barnes though, the availability of minor sanctions seemed to encourage an element of pettiness at times. Mr Durrant's particular obsession with boys not losing things was petty and for some boys distinctly upsetting for what was really a very trivial event. In the eyes of Mr Barnes, the fact that it seemed to be the same few boys each term who were earning most of the debits, and if enough accumulated, an interview with Captain Porter or Mr Durrant, proved his point.

Jonathan was one of those boys. Slightly disorganised at times and always up to some form of mischief or another. Jonathan accumulated debits the way Clancy accumulated credits.

Curious Pip caught up with Jonathan in the queue for lunch after he had been summoned to Mr Durrant for collecting six debits that half term. Pip whispered "Did you go to see Mr Durrant?"

"Yes, but you won't tell anyone will you?" Jonathan was not keen to advertise his visit to Mr Durrant's study. He was ashamed he had been there. It was where only naughty boys went.

"No, don't worry. I will keep it secret. I certainly wouldn't want to go there."

"Me neither. I don't recommend it at all, but it's not as bad as you think, honest. Just a lecture, sort of."

*****

Chapter 3 - Michaelmas Term 1967

In the hot sun of early September The Rocks seemed very far from anything to do with Christmas even though the end of term would be taken up with the usual celebrations including the Carol Service in St Ives and the annual school plays. Over the four years since Pip started at The Rocks, he had grown from the small timid creature he had been on arrival into a more confident, but sometimes private boy, the sort of boy who tended to hide his work in the classroom behind a façade of studied indifference. Pip had also developed the typical Rocks look, long-legged and suntanned by years of days in the Cornish sun, the envy of his few friends back at home. From the lower forms Pip had now reached the school's pinnacle, the Sixth Form, accompanied by Clancy, Owen, Peter Morgan and the Johnson twins. Owing to the vagaries of the academic year Jonathan was now a year behind, the oldest boy in the Fifth Form. However, because the dormitories did not necessarily match the form structure, Pip and Jonathan were still in the same dormitory as had been the case all through the school.

Having unpacked his trunk and with no one else around, Pip came out of his dormitory, 5W, and went upstairs to the favoured Sixth Form dormitory 6W, which had much the best view of the open sea. Already 6W was alive with gossip centred on Peter who was sporting a broken wrist. The twins tried to find out more from Peter himself.

"What happened to your wrist?"

"Nothing much. I fell out of a tree." But there was a more pressing matter for the twins. "So what was that comment about a girl called Emma in your post card from France, Peter?"

In his eyes Peter had had a very successful summer holiday in France, something he was keen to share with his friends back at school.

"Oh, she's my girlfriend. My cousin."

"Girlfriend? Do tell us more. What did you get up to? Did she break your wrist?" Girls were beginning to be a subject of discussion amongst some of the older boys. Sometimes magazines were pulled out of from hiding places. The pictures from these magazines were studied intently. The more adventurous began to read the letters pages in the search for information. Pip followed these discussions with keen interest.

As the September sun started to wane on the first evening back, Peter began to give some more information of his family's holiday in France.

"No, that was some accident back in Hong Kong. I met up with Emma on holiday in Europe. We stayed with our cousins in the South of France this summer. Sam was off chatting to the local boys. She's good at French, but my cousins Emma and Natalie were there. They are fourteen and twelve."

"Oh, good looking?"

"Natalie is just a girl, but Emma, she's a natural model. She looked good in a bikini. She's quite mature on top, if you know what I mean." Peter gestured with two cupped hands. Yes, everyone knew what he meant.

The Johnson twins, now the school's star athletes, took an instant interest in the hook dangled by Peter. Kit, the younger, dominant twin, led the inevitable questioning.

"And apart from the looks, was Emma interested?"

"Interested?"

"You know. Did she want to go out with you?"

"And stuff?"

Peter considered his response to the questions from both twins. "Well, at first she only wanted to stay with Natalie and Sam, but by the end of the holiday Natalie had found her own interests. So Emma was much more amenable to me then." Peter looked very pleased with himself.

"Well?"

"Go on then."

He refused to say more. "Not now."

"Any photographs of this cousin of yours?"

"Perhaps later, when I have unpacked. I have one or two which I might show you." Peter was keeping his cards close to his chest. Kit and his brother Robbie looked at each other, then as one turned back to Peter, who now wearing an undisguised look of glee on his face as he had told the world of his conquest.

"But can't we see the pictures now?"

"You'll just have to wait."

The twins would never keep it to themselves for long.

* * *

Pip and Owen staggered towards the camp they were building at the western end of the school's land, each carrying large bundles of recently trimmed branches to reinforce the defences. Clancy was in overall charge, Jonathan following his instructions as he constructed the walls.

"Oh good, bring the branches here. Pip, put that lot over there and Jonathan can build up the walls."

Clancy had invented a new method of interleaving the branches around some bare tree trunks, much stronger than the normal structures used by the other camps. Glad to put the branches down, Pip went back to the pile by the bonfire with Owen.

"It will be great when it's finished. Then we will be able to keep the ravaging hoards at bay."

"What ravaged hoards?"

"Oh, the juniors boys, the twins, Peter, all of them."

Owen was only dimly aware of what went on in Pip's imagination, the source of his drive in many areas.

Under Clancy's directions the Pirates soon had a very well secured camp, probably the best on the school. It was an elaborate affair enclosing a small space and designed to be defended from attacks from other gangs. Like all pretend games in that era the shadow of a war just twenty years distant still coloured how the games would go. It was as if the boys were subconsciously training for the next war. Unspoken, the enemy were the Musketeers, led by Peter Morgan and the Johnson twins.

The following afternoon at the end of games Jonathan was alone with Pip at their camp. Pip had been reluctant at first as they were out of bounds, but Jonathan was more relaxed.

"Come on, Pip. There is absolutely no one around apart from us and we are well out of sight from the school down here."

"But what if they do see us?"

"Look, Mr Wallace has gone on ahead. He has to go to the junior dorms and Mr Barnes is on changing room duty. He won't notice and the First Game are still playing Truro with Mr Durrant refereeing. They started fifteen minutes late at least. We've got twenty minutes and can claim we watched the last part of their game, can't we?"

"Oh, okay."

Their hard work earlier that week ensured that the camp was now a very private place that no one could see into or approach without entering through a narrow tunnel of branches. If they kept quiet, no one would know they were in this secret place. Jonathan was unusually quiet, something on his mind.

"Guess what I've got?" Pip thought for a few moments. He looked at Jonathan. There was excitement glistening in the younger boy's eyes, but no clues.

"No, what?"

"Have you seen those magazines the twins brought back this term?"

Pip knew that one or two much read and tatty 'girlie' magazines such as _Mayfair_ or _Penthouse_ had begun circulating around the older boys from some mysterious hidden cache.

"Oh, those." Pip had seen them from a distance, but not been able to satisfy his curiosity.

"They are full of girls and stuff."

"I know that."

Jonathan reached under his jumper. He had stopped by the 'library' as Kit referred to it, on his way to games that afternoon. "Check outside to make sure no one is about." Pip did as he was bid, looking through both the spy-holes and then briefly climbed up into the observation post. The First Team was still on the lower pitch, watched by a small knot of senior boys. No sign of the end of the game yet. Jonathan removed the forbidden magazine from its hiding place and together the two boys studied it with interest. The pages with girls conveniently had their corners turned down to make it easier to navigate. Pip sensed that Jonathan was changing. Jonathan, turned twelve just a week ago, was no longer the little boy. He was very much the natural athlete. Jonathan on his feet was constantly poised and balanced; his body was broadening out, muscles sprouting. He liked to show off sometimes, climbing the ropes in the gym just using his hands, doing more pull ups than anyone else. On the vaulting horse or bar, no one could match Jonathan's balance or perfect dancer-like precision. Jonathan could stand on the narrowest of the bars, arms outstretched, his hands perfectly parallel, fingers together, thumbs outstretched and still. When he lifted first one leg and then the other, Jonathan was like a well-oiled machine, a natural thoroughbred, as Mr Wallace would put it.

The boys studied the magazine in detail. There was a silence. Nothing much was said as the pages turned. Jonathan was intently concentrating on a picture showing a girl with large erect nipples staring into the camera, both hands strategically placed between her legs. Pip kept his ears and eyes sharp, constantly monitoring to see whether anyone was coming. There was no sign of any possible interruption, but Pip was keen to bring this viewing session, interesting though it was, to a close before something bad happened. Eventually and reluctantly Jonathan folded the magazine shut and put it back under his shirt.

"She was pretty interesting."

"Yes, but look, we'd better get back."

Jonathan felt a sense of failure. Pip didn't seem interested in a way Jonathan thought he would, not the interest expressed by the Johnson twins nor the interest Jonathan felt himself.

The two boys returned to the changing rooms, Jonathan darting off at the last moment to return his loan to its original agreed hiding place. Pip was glad to walk into the changing room, the viewing episode behind him.

"No score yet," he informed Mr Barnes who was concentrating on his crossword puzzle. Jonathan appeared two minutes later. His top was already removed as he walked into the changing room, steaming from the cold air outside.

"I think it is one all, sir."

"Well that was a quick couple of goals, wasn't it, Pip?" Mr Barnes looked questioningly at Pip, who in turn was annoyed that he had been caught out by Jonathan's information on the real score.

"Well hurry up and get changed. It's getting late."

Jonathan sat on the boot locker next to where Pip was fiddling with his shirt buttons and removed his shorts. In an act of modesty unusual for Jonathan, the boy wrapped his towel around himself before running off to the shower as if to hide something. Pip, already showered, remained behind, deep in thought. Why had Jonathan been so keen to show him the magazine?

Jonathan took advantage of being alone in the showers. Guiltily he inspected his reflection. What was happening to his body? Why did it feel good and bad at the same time? Clancy was Jonathan's next port of call.

"Clangers?" Clancy was deep in a book on Roman history, but, as always, he was prepared to oblige. He looked up to see Jonathan and readied to answer the inevitable question.

"Yes?" Jonathan checked that no one else was taking an interest and once he was sure, he hunkered closer to Clancy.

"Can you help me?"

"Help you? How?" Jonathan explained what had happened in the showers.

"Well," Clancy sighed. Clancy knew about the subject of sex. His father had already explained it to him.

"When you are older, you will find all about it soon enough."

"But I want to know now. Please."

There was no escaping the topic. Jonathan demanded an answer. Fortunately, the illustrations in the book Clancy was reading would help. Clancy flicked back to the middle of the book where all the illustrations were placed and found what he was looking for.

"See these illustrations on the vase here?"

Jonathan was not sure why they were looking at a picture of a vase, but he knew it was always best to play along with Clancy. The older boy was normally pretty good at these sorts of things. Clancy pointed. The vase was illustrated. A young man and woman, naked as it turned out. Nude photographs were bound to be a forbidden at The Rocks. But this was a 2000-year-old vase and it was drawings, not a photograph in an academic book and so probably acceptable, even to Mr Durrant.

"Can you see what they are illustrating? Various stages of intercourse, if you follow it left to right." Jonathan studied the illustrations intently. The illustrations were not very lifelike in his view, but you could follow what was going on easily enough. The woman was looking happy gesticulating to the man as she reclined. The man was leaning over her. In one illustration his private parts were very obvious. In the next he was lying on top of her and the woman was clearly enjoying what it was the man was doing to her. Jonathan studied the illustration intensely until Clancy decided that enough was enough and took the book back and returned it to the page he was reading.

"Well, that is what it is all ultimately about."

Jonathan thought about the information he had just gleaned. It was still not enough to satisfy his curiosity. "Oh, well, are there any more books like this?"

"I am sure there are many books on the subject, but this is the only one I have." Clancy had another more useful suggestion. "Well, why don't you ask the Johnson twins? I believe they have some magazines that might help, but I doubt they will be as graphic of course."

"Oh, I've seen one of them, but it's just naked girls."

"Women," Clancy corrected Jonathan. "Well, they are not as educational as they could be, I am afraid. More for base titillation than educational alas."

In the end it was Kit and his brother who provided more information in the form of a new magazine that they had found. Jonathan spotted Kit concealing something under his duffel coat on a return from Penzance at the weekend.

"What are you hiding?"

"What makes you think that?"

"It is pretty obvious, really. It might fall out from there. Tuck it into the back of your shorts, much more secure."

Robbie kept watch whilst his brother took up Jonathan's suggestion. As he did so, Jonathan glimpsed the cover, a copy of _Mayfair_. Kit turned around, anxious to be checked by his brother. "How does it look? Does it show?"

"No, you are okay now."

"Well, thanks, I mean perhaps we can return the favour?"

Robbie raised his eyebrows in askance to his brother. He had not been consulted. Jonathan took up the offer.

"Oh, thanks, well later then?"

Robbie waited until Jonathan was out of earshot.

"What did you do that for? Pierce is not the most discreet person we know is he?"

"Oh, I think he will be okay. Pierce knows when to keep a secret, doesn't he?"

"I suppose so."

"Besides, he borrowed the Playboy we had, remember?"

"But this is a bit more, you know. Can't trust just anyone with it, can we?"

Nothing was said immediately, but a couple of days later, seeing Jonathan alone, Robbie issued the invitation. "Want to come and see something after lunch? I think it will interest you."

Jonathan eyed Robbie warily, but he seemed genuine in his invitation. "Okay then. Where?"

"Our classroom, during the reading period."

An invitation to the Sixth Form classroom was rarely offered to boys lower down the school like Jonathan. Most senior boys preferred to use their common room rather than the classrooms after lunch, as it was warmer and more comfortable. The Sixth Form classroom had an advantage though. Since it was at the end of the corridor, there would be ample warning if anyone came along unexpectedly. Once they had checked that all the other classrooms on the first floor corridor were empty, Kit led the party to their classroom. Robbie followed with Jonathan. Once inside Robbie pushed the door until it was only half open. During the free periods the classroom doors were left wide open, but a bit of privacy was needed for the viewing session.

Kit went to the very back of the classroom and sat at the double desk closest to the wall, the view from the corridor obscured by the partly open door. Kit pulled out a magazine, which had been conveniently hidden behind the bookcase just for this occasion.

"It's not where it is normally kept by the way."

There was a more secure hiding place, but the twins alone knew where that was. Jonathan sat down alongside Kit as he opened the magazine on a page he knew all too well. Robbie watched intently from his position just behind the door.

"Robbie, concentrate on keeping guard, not on us!"

Robbie obeyed his younger brother and peeped through the gap between the door and the frame so that he could see and hear if anyone was coming up or down the main stairs.

"Jonathan, have a look at this."

Kit slowly turned the pages in the magazine as Jonathan looked on. It was the very battered copy of _Mayfair_ as yet unseen by Jonathan.

"We found it in the back streets of Penzance. A pile of them, sticking out of a rubbish bin."

"It's not ours," the twins could claim. "We found it. Someone else must have had it."

It was an important distinction in their minds, a chance find that fed inquiring minds rather than an active acquisition from some grubby newsagent. That would be their defence if it ever came to it.

The magazine in question contained a series of photo shoots of nude women in suggestive poses. One Chinese looking girl even showed a hint of pubic hair between her legs as she peered demurely into the camera, her breasts outlined in silhouette, only the dark brown circle of the girl's erect nipples visible. To boys on the cusp of puberty the sight of naked breasts and more was wildly exciting. Their breathing quickened. Kit was aware of Jonathan fidgeting on the seat next to him, eyes out on stalks. Now was the time for Kit to add more to the excitement.

"Coast still clear, Robbie?" Robbie again turned his attentions from his brother and Jonathan and peeped through the crack.

"All clear."

"Know about this?"

Emboldened by the sight of the Chinese girl, Kit decided a bit of education was required. It did not take long.

"Well? Now you know. That's what happens."

Jonathan knew that he had witnessed something exciting and definitely illicit. As Robbie had wandered away from the door, to see his brother demonstrate, he was almost too late to hear steps approaching. Mr Wallace was bounding up the stairs, two steps at a time, looking for his expensive Parker pen. He last remembered using it in the period before lunch and made straight for the Sixth Form classroom only to walk in and find three boys gathered around a magazine. Fortunately as Mr Wallace appeared at the door, Kit had tucked his shirt back in. The only evidence of illicit activity was the still open copy of _Mayfair_.

"Well, what have we here? Three rather unlikely book worms I think." Mr Wallace spotted the magazine straight away. The look of guilt on the face of the three boys was enough to give a very good clue as to what sort of illicit activity had been happening. Fortunately Mr Wallace was inclined to turn a blind eye on this occasion. He had not actually caught any of the boys engaged in illicit activity other than the evidence of the magazine itself. He was only 28 himself and could well recall similar incidents when he was a boy their age.

"I don't know which of you boys brought that magazine to school, but I'm afraid you will have to say goodbye to it now."

"Yes, sir."

The twins still had the habit of chirruping their answers in unison even though they were nearly thirteen. Robbie handed over the magazine reluctantly. It had taken some ingenuity to acquire it. Now they were to lose it.

"And don't let me find you up here in similar circumstances again, do you hear?"

"Yes, sir." This time all three boys responded.

It could have been a lot worse, but Mr Wallace made light of it. A heavy response was not appropriate in his view and to involve Captain Porter would just bring more awkwardness to what, in Mr Wallace's view, was only natural to boys this age.

"Pierce, back to your classroom and you two, I think had better go to your common room."

The twins looked at each other open mouthed as Mr Wallace made an exit hiding his own smile of amusement. Boys will be boys and so they should be in his view. He hoped his warning would make all three of them more discreet in future.

Although Jonathan had been quick to cover up in the changing room the other day, he had not been fast enough to prevent Pip catch a glimpse of his excited state. Pip knew he wanted to see more. Jonathan was the one boy who, if he knew, would tell. Pip concocted several plans to make Jonathan tell him more. In the end he discarded them all and went for the simplest. He would just ask Jonathan to show him what had happened in the form of a double dare in the unused male staff toilets in the kitchen at teatime one afternoon.

Pip waited a couple of days until the opportunity arose at teatime. Just before grace was about to be said by Captain Porter, Pip turned to Jonathan standing beside him and whispered a tempting offer to Jonathan.

"I want to double dare you."

"A double dare? Why?"

"It's a double dare, silly!"

"Well, why would I want to do that?"

"A Mars bar."

"A Mars bar?"

Jonathan rarely had enough money for such a luxury item. Dares were one of the more exciting games at school. They sometimes broke out in a rash until one or more boys got into trouble for some outrageous dare. Double dares were rarely accepted. They were in another league of danger and almost certainly likely to lead to trouble or worse. Jonathan weighed up Pip's offer. A Mars bar would be a rare treat as he had very little money this term. He upped the price.

"A double dare? That's two Mars bars."

"Okay, tomorrow then, at teatime?"

"What have I got to do?"

"You'll see. Just come with me tomorrow at teatime."

"I am not doing anything silly in front of everyone."

"No, it won't be anything like that. I promise?"

Jonathan had no idea what Pip was proposing, but if it was in private it could not be that bad, surely?

"Okay, then, tomorrow so long as things are clear and nothing crazy understand?"

"Understood."

The next day was clear. It was a regular teatime. Being Thursday, Mrs Prince was absent as usual from the Fifth Form table. So in her place sat Peter, discussing football with some of the other Fifth Formers. Pip put his plan into action. He picked up a near empty water jug and handed it to Jonathan. "Okay, take this jug over to the serving hatch and wait for me to come to the other side."

Jonathan stood up. Peter glanced in his direction and then nodded approval when he saw the jug in his hand. Jonathan went where he was directed and waited until he saw Pip approach from the other hatchway, a jug in hand, which he then placed on the counter. Pip pointed at the side door. To get more squash you had to go into the kitchen. It was perfectly normal for older boys to be trusted to do that. No one would notice. Jonathan went through the door and Pip led him out of the kitchen by the side entrance that led to the side corridor to the rarely used male staff toilet. The all female kitchen staff used their own toilet in the other corridor. Pip opened the door and Jonathan entered directly behind him. Once they were both inside Pip quietly shut the door from the inside, locked the door and sat on the closed seat.

"There, no one can disturb us now."

Jonathan stood by the sink. There was not much room. The air was full of anticipation on both sides. "Well what do you want, this double dare?" Jonathan was cautious. A double dare could end up putting a boy into a lot of trouble sometimes.

"You remember when you showed me that magazine in the camp?"

"Well, I don't have it if that is what you are after."

"No, that's not what I want. I just want to know..." Jonathan shifted uncomfortably. He guessed Pip was curious, perhaps he had seen something?

"Show me, please."

"Show you what?"

Now locked in the toilet with Jonathan, Pip was very direct in his request. Jonathan knew that he would have to do something like this for the price of two Mars bars.

"Show me, go on."

"Don't you see enough in the showers then?" Pip had of course seen Jonathan naked many times, in the showers and in the changing rooms. School etiquette was not to stare and to try and keep one's eyes either at eye level or on your own person to avoid being shoved away or worse called names.

"Go on. You agreed a double dare for two Mars bars."

Jonathan sighed. He would have shown Pip for nothing if he had asked nicely. He felt cheap and nasty, but for two Mars Bars, Jonathan overcame his own reticence.

"Oh, all right then."

Despite himself, Jonathan felt bashful as he lowered his shorts. He hid his face in his chest as he pulled up his sweater and shirt and then undid his snake-belt and zip. Emboldened, he lowered his underwear to his ankles without being asked. Now Jonathan felt a rising sense of excitement undressing knowing that Pip was taking in every square inch of his body, something he sometimes felt walking around the changing room without his towel. Jonathan looked Pip in the eyes, his own eyes narrowed. The challenge was now made.

"Go on, look then."

Pip had a fixed vacant look on his face, trying to hide his curiosity at Jonathan's fully aroused state in front of him. Jonathan was not fooled.

"This is what you really want to see, isn't it?" It didn't take Jonathan long to show Pip. Once over, Jonathan pulled up his shorts as soon as he could. For some reason he now felt sullied and humiliated by the whole experience, deeply ashamed.

"Satisfied?"

Pip sensed his friend's unease and was now equally embarrassed, guilt-ridden by the whole sorry affair even though he felt light-headed at what he had just witnessed.

"Thanks, I mean, great. I'll get you the Mars bars on Saturday. You can come with me to St Ives on Saturday afternoon to get them."

"You mean you don't have the Mars bars now?"

"No, sorry."

Pip realised he was welshing on their deal. Embarrassed, he looked at his watch in mock urgency. "Look, we ought to get back now."

"I won't forget, you know."

"I know. I promise to get them on Saturday if you come with me. Deal?"

"Deal."

Jonathan was looking forward to gorging himself on two whole Mars bars on Saturday. In the end he decided it was not such a bad deal. Would he do it again? Two Mars bars? Probably.

The boys made their separate ways back into the dining hall picking up jugs of fresh squash as they did so. Jonathan sat down with a flourish, causing Peter to look up. What took ten minutes, he wondered. Peter's question was half answered when he saw Pip with another jug of squash return to the Sixth Form table adjacent. Peter was not the only one to see the two boys return. So did the ever-observant Mr Durrant who was sitting on the Sixth Form table that evening. He looked at Pip.

"So it takes two of you to fetch two jugs of squash, does it?"

"Sorry, sir. We didn't realise we had both gone."

"Hmm, well, sit down and hurry up with your tea."

Mr Durrant said nothing more, but kept his eye on Pip. Under his curious gaze he could see the boy squirm with guilt and study his plate as if waiting for something to magically appear in front of him. Mr Durrant had no proof of what the two boys had been doing, but he guessed it was not something that he would approve of.

That evening as Mr Durrant and Captain Porter shared the evening inspection of the school grounds to check that windows and doors were locked, Mr Durrant conferred with Captain Porter.

"Headmaster, I think we should be keeping an eye on Pierce and Cox. Something going on there. They disappeared together at teatime this afternoon."

"Hmm. Pierce, well we know he is a wild one, but Cox? He is a scholarship boy. We don't want him distracted. Any idea what?"

"No, Headmaster, but they were gone for ten minutes on some completely spurious mission to fill the water jugs and when they came back they had the look of the guilty written all over their faces."

Captain Porter would have ignored it unless he had witnessed it himself, but conscious that Mr Durrant took a more hard-line view on misbehaviour of this sort he knew he had better act.

"I will mention it at the next staff meeting."

"Don't you think we ought to do something now, Headmaster?"

"All we have is the two of them sneaking off together. It is not unusual, especially at their age. They've always been best friends, but you are right to keep an eye on them, especially if they make a habit of it."

Captain Porter mentioned the incident with Pip and Jonathan at the end of the weekly staff meeting on Monday afternoon.

"Just a general point, gentlemen. It has been brought to my attention that perhaps we need to keep an eye on Pierce and Cox. They were seen disappearing together in suspicious circumstances during tea last week. At the moment that has just been the only occurrence that I am aware of, unless any of you know different?"

Captain Porter looked around the staff room. Mrs Prince was studiously reading her newspaper, cigarette in hand, ignoring all these trivial matters about the running of the school. Mr Wallace decided to keep quiet about what he had witnessed earlier that term. In his eyes no harm had been done on that occasion and he had not heard anything to make him unduly worried this time around either. No one else raised his voice in concern.

"Well, that's something. But we do have to keep a look out in case some mischief is developing."

The staff meeting broke up with most of the teaching staff putting this issue out of their minds or dismissing it as ridiculous paranoia by Captain Porter, but Mr Barnes listened to the message with alarm. He had been in schools long enough to know an innocuous inquiry of this type could have dire consequences for the boys concerned. Mr Barnes had another concern. If Pip was investigated further, awkward questions could be asked, some of which, if asked of Pip in particular, would be very uncomfortable for him, even though the event Mr Barnes was thinking of was four years ago and quite innocent. He knew if Pip told of the single kiss he had planted on his head were to come out, it would end his career in teaching forever.

The next day Mr Barnes waited until the end of his double English class with the Sixth Form.

"Pip, can you stay behind? I want to clarify with you the difference between 'there' and 'their'. You are being a bit fast and loose with the two words."

Pip was indignant. He knew the difference. Surely it was just one mistake in his last essay? Pip fidgeted at his desk until the last of the other boys left.

"Can you shut the door, Pip?"

Pip obliged, concern now entering his mind.

"Pip, sit down, dear boy."

Mr Barnes smiled. It was an awkward thing he had to say. He sat on Pip's desk.

"Do be careful about things, especially with Jonathan. It's been noted that you spend a lot of time with him, just the two of you. That unfortunately has set tongues wagging in the staff room. In particular, Mr Durrant noticed you disappeared with Jonathan during tea last week. Mr Durrant doesn't like boys sneaking off together at your age and now that he has brought it to the attention of Captain Porter. Captain Porter cannot ignore it either."

"But we weren't doing anything, sir."

Pip's blushes told a different story all together.

"Now be a sensible boy, Pip. No one said you did, but you have to admit it, it does sound fishy, don't you?"

"But, sir, Jonathan is my best friend."

"I know, but just make sure that when you are with him, you are also with other boys. No sneaking off just the two of you, do you understand? Don't let suspicious minds put two and two together and come out with five, or more. None of us want that, do we?"

"No, sir." Pip knew that Mr Barnes was not going to say any more at this stage. "And... and thank you, sir."

"All right. You had better run along. You have missed enough break as it is."

That evening Pip sought Jonathan out and sat opposite him over a supposed game of chess in the corner of their dormitory. At the other end the other boys were deep in a discussion on the relative merits of the school plays due at the end of term. Pip moved one of his pawns across the board and leaned towards Jonathan.

"Mr Barnes says that Mr Durrant saw us come back out of the kitchen together last Friday."

"Well, we know that. You could see that from the look on is face. He wasn't half mad at us."

"Well, Mr Durrant must have said something to Captain Porter. Apparently it came up at the staff meeting yesterday."

Jonathan contemplated this disturbing piece of news. "Oh."

"We'd better be careful."

"Well, yes, but we weren't doing anything, well not much anyway."

"I know, but we really must be careful. You don't fancy a visit to Captain Porter's study, do you?"

Jonathan, who had paid more than one visit to the Headmaster's study, agreed. "No, I do not want another visit his study, thank you very much."

"Well, let's lie low for now. It will blow over, but we had best not meet like that again."

"But how about Saturday? We are supposed to be going out to St Ives remember?"

"Oh we can still do that. Just take Clancy and Owen along. They'll cover for us."

"I suppose."

"No, that will be all right. You'll see."

The visit to St Ives went as planned. Clancy took Owen off to look in the rock pools as Pip and Jonathan visited the centre of the seaside town. As they walked back along the Coffin Path for once, Jonathan tucked greedily into the promised Mars bars, one after the other. Seeing Pip watch him, Jonathan guiltily handed a chunk of the second Mars bar to Pip. Jonathan knew Pip had had to forego any treat for himself that Saturday to fund his promised bribe to Jonathan.

"Oh, thanks."

"That's okay, I did promise you two Mars bars."

The boys said no more. The topic did not come again by mutual consent as they walked back.

On their return to The Rocks, Pip and Jonathan met up with Owen and Clancy and they returned as a group. In the entrance hall Captain Porter was handling the list of boys in and out of school that afternoon.

"Good afternoon. Out then, boys?"

"Oh yes, sir, thank you."

Owen answered for the four of them, the others nodding. As he ticked their names off, Captain Porter spoke.

"Cox, can you stay here for a minute. I want to check with you the dates of your next exeat this term." Once the other three boys walked on ahead, Captain Porter raised the matter on his mind with Pip. "Cox, I do hope that you are not developing an over-familiar relationship with Pierce?"

"Sir?"

"Look, in a friendly way, I am advising you very strongly not to be seen in anything remotely resembling a compromising situation with Pierce. Understood? No secret meetings or going off alone together or anything like that. If you do, I may have to take further action, which would be unfortunate for both of you. Understood?"

"Oh yes, sir, I won't. I will make sure."

"Well, that's all, I think. Your exeat is in two week's time, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, the 15th."

Pip went on his way, alarmed by his conversation with Captain Porter, but then Captain Porter himself had described it as 'nothing'. So perhaps it was not that bad?

That evening as they waited for the bell for supper outside in the still warm sun, Pip mentioned the conversation to Jonathan.

"Captain Porter spoke to me, warned me not to be over-familiar with you."

"Over-familiar?"

"That just means he thinks we spend to much time in each other's company with no one else around, I think."

"Oh, that's torn it. Did he say anything more?"

"No, just that, but look, you know we are going to have to be more careful in the future. No camp for instance."

Jonathan was downcast. Pip was his best friend. Jonathan turned to Pip. "How long? To lie low, I mean?"

"I guess until next term." Next term seemed an awful long way away.

"Next term? We are only half way through this term now."

"Well, what would you rather? I mean I don't fancy being watched all the time. We'll still see each other in the dorm, games and that. It's just that we must not be seen to be alone together. If we really want to meet up meantime, we can fix it like today."

Clancy and Owen will cover for us, so long as we don't involve them in anything."

Nothing more was said, but Pip and Jonathan stuck to the new rules of engagement to avoid any suspicions developing.

* * *

Later that week with no Pip to entertain him, Jonathan found himself at a loose end until the twins approached him.

"Fancy coming to St Ives then?" As always Kit led the way. The three boys took the Coast Path the two miles to St Ives and made straight for one of the cafés that lined the front overlooking the harbour. Sure enough, attracted by the slot machines, there was a gaggle of girls of about their age idling away the afternoon away.

"Here, let me show you," was the standard line taken as the boys showed off their alleged prowess on the pinball machines. It didn't take long. Leaning into the girls as they pulled the levers, hands over theirs, a touch here, and a touch there. The twins knew that just possibly these innocent activities might lead to something more, an invitation to a walk, a discreet spot, perhaps something more? Well, that was what they wished for and Jonathan was all too eager to try for himself as well. When Jonathan received his second invitation the following week, he was eager to go. Pip, seeing Jonathan drift away, spent more time with Clancy and Owen, their conversations limited to more chaste matters.

*****

Chapter 4 - Lent Term 1968

As usual Mr Barnes took his place by the front entrance to the school. To make his life easier he leant back on his shooting stick cum umbrella, clad in his thick outdoor coat, stylish with its fur collar. He teased the younger boys that the coat's collar had been made from the pelt of a bear he once shot on a hunting expedition. This story was one of many told by Mr Barnes that Pip, as he grew older, was beginning to have his doubts about.

The old master sat, clipboard in hand, a never ending procession of Player's Navy Cut cigarettes making their way into his elegant holder as he waited for the hundred and fifty or so boys to return to The Rocks for the beginning of the new term. It was two o'clock in early January, brightly lit by the cold Cornish sun, frost still on the playing fields and in the trees bent out of shape by the persistent Cornish westerlies. Wrapped up, Mr Barnes studied the two lists of names on his clipboard: the main list, all returners and a shorter list of new First Year boys who would also be arriving today. In the absence of early arrivals he studied the lists. He prided himself that he knew all the boys, could picture each one in his mind, some sharp, some blurred.

Some boys, fewer than five on the list, brought a particular sense of interest to the nearly seventy-year-old teacher. They were the boys who shone brightest and, he was sure, would go on to greater things. Mr Barnes prided himself on being able to spot these few ascendant stars early on and concentrate his attentions on them. Not always the brightest, but the ones who shone out to him because of their curiosity, responsiveness and yes, interest to him. The latter was something he only dared admit fully to himself in the privacy of his bachelor lodgings in the farmhouse, accompanied by a large glass of malt whisky.

This was going to be a painful year for Mr Barnes. He could already feel the sadness, as one of his stars was to be leaving at the end of the Summer Term. Pip, he of the unruly blond hair and sharp inquisitive eyes, would at the end of his scholarship year move on to public school. In the cold sun he peered again at the lists in front of him. He spied a third piece of paper undiscovered underneath the list of new First Form boys. This piece of paper had just one name on it, for the sole new boy in another year, the Fifth Form. Alexei Morgan was his name. Unusual.

Helpfully there was a photograph attached, well balanced features, big dark eyes, partly hidden under a fringe of neatly trimmed dark hair, short in height. The surname, Morgan, he shared it with Peter Morgan. Another look. Alexei must be Peter's younger brother. Mr Barnes looked more closely at the photograph. Yes, there was a familiar look to the face if you allowed for the different complexions, from Peter's olive skin to his younger brother's paler, complexion. Next to Alexei's name was his date of birth. It must be a misprint, he mused, either that or Alexei really was exactly one year younger than his brother.

A check of the class list for the Fifth Form, suggested that there was no error in the date of birth. Alexei was an eleven-year-old boy, nearly twelve despite looking considerably younger. So why was he coming to the school so late and not at age eight like his brother?

During the few quiet moments he had that afternoon, Mr Barnes found himself drawn repeatedly to the picture of the new boy. The photograph was, he supposed, taken in their Hong Kong home, judging from the lush vegetation on show in the garden. It was a typical family photograph taken at some formal do such as a wedding. Alexei's apparently smart outfit of white shirt and black waistcoat was now not quite so neat as intended, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his shirt untucked and shirt unbuttoned, any tie long since removed. Alexei's hair was mussed up and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, his expression not hiding his bored state.

Knowing it was his second to last term, Pip had arrived early, his family callously discarded with minimum fuss at Paddington station where Pip took himself unaccompanied by train all the way to Penzance. He was one of the first to be greeted by Mr Barnes, dropped off early in the afternoon by Mr Wallace who had met him at Penzance station.

"Hello, sir, still here then?" was the greeting Pip gave Mr Barnes.

"I have not yet expired nor been sent down in disgrace despite cheek from boys like you, Pip. Now run along. I have put you in Six West. You are sharing a bunk with Owen. I dare say you want to grab the top bunk before he arrives."

"Oh yes, sir, thank you." Pip turned and started to gather his things that he had unceremoniously dumped around his feet. Six West, 6W, was rated the top dorm in the school, a small dormitory with just six beds arranged in three sets of bunks, looking westwards towards Land's End with dramatic views of the sea and the cliffs along the North Coast on one side and on the other overlooking the school's driveway down which a procession of cars was beginning to arrive.

This time last term Pip had discovered as usual that he was still bunking with Jonathan as he had through all of his time at The Rocks. This term he knew not to ask Mr Barnes, as it would have made no difference. Mr Durrant had already separated the boys for the well being of both, something he had done in consultation with Captain Porter as they checked the dormitory arrangements the day before.

"Now there is space in 6W, we can move Cox up with Owen."

Mr Durrant had questioned Jonathan being put in charge of 5W, Pip's old dormitory. "Is it altogether wise to make Pierce dormitory captain, Captain Porter?"

"It is always a risk with Pierce, but really, I think we should set him this challenge, see whether he can accept more responsibility. He deserves the chance. After all, he will be the oldest boy in the school in the autumn and in theory, the most likely candidate to be Head Boy. Plus I aim to make him responsible for a new boy, Peter Morgan's younger brother, who will be joining us this term."

Pierce as Head Boy seemed an unlikely event at present, mused Mr Durrant.

Pip raced up the stairs. Still the enthusiast in all things, mused Mr Barnes. Mr Barnes now found himself busy as a steady trickle of boys turned into a stream of boys. So he could no longer do more than greet boys quickly and then send them on their way to their allocated dormitories to unpack, most with parents, some without.

Upstairs in 6W, top bunk bagged, Pip looked out of the window. Peering into the bright early January sun Pip watched a procession of cars arrive at the school. Triumphs, Rovers, the odd flashy Jaguar and the occasional Land Rover turned through the gates and scrunched down the drive towards the school's main entrance to offload one or more boys ready for the start of term.

Behind Pip the oversized Owen arrived with a sigh and a mopping of sweaty brow. He dumped his bags on the newly polished floor and, after a moment's hesitation, joined Pip at his observation point.

"Welcome back, Owen, nice hols?"

"Oh, just my birthday, a supply of too small jumpers, exactly the same presents as I was given last year. Does no one have any imagination or think to ask? I wanted an air gun. Well, what about you?"

Pip looked at his extra large friend, his eyes hidden behind a slightly greasy fringe, a shifty look enhanced by his permanently downcast eyes. That they remained friends was something of a mystery to everyone else as Owen was very much the outcast, a loner. However, Pip stayed loyal to Owen right from his early days as a timid new boy when Owen had protected him on several occasions.

"Not much to report. Boring sherry parties, boring presents, mostly a boring time. Well, at least I got these books to read." Pip indicated the pile of about half a dozen books. "Oh and we went to Paris for a couple of nights for New Year. The ferry crossing was rough, though."

Owen spied a van coming through the gates of the school. "Come on, the trunks have arrived."

The two boys went downstairs to fetch their trunks now arriving in the hallway downstairs, passing Mrs Prince as they went.

"Welcome back, boys."

"Welcome back, Miss."

"I hope you will continue to come to my art club this term. I was thinking you might want to continue with your watercolours. The landscape in winter suits your style, I think."

"Oh, I will, Miss, certainly."

It took two boys to bring each trunk up the stairs, packed as they were with school uniforms, games things, weekend clothing, books and games plus the odd toy or personal item that at this age was guiltily hidden away at the back of a boy's locker. Up the stairs came a stream of boys, the Johnson twins amongst them. Announcing themselves with a gale of noise, they joined Pip and Owen in 6W along with Clancy who was currently arranging his library of books on the shelves next to his bunk.

Mid afternoon Pip met Jonathan on the stairs.

"Hello, Jonathan."

Jonathan glanced up from under his fringe of translucent hair. "Oh hello, Pip, glad to be back?"

The answer was not really a question, more of a way of keeping awkwardness at bay. "In this weather? No." There was fidgeting on both sides.

"Well, I've got my trunk to fetch."

The two boys separated, neither keen to be caught in discussion with the other. Jonathan made his way to 5W, directly below 6W and laid claim to the top tier of his assigned bunk situated in the corner by the window looking westwards. The bottom one, still empty, was to be occupied by a boy with the name 'Morgan A'. Jonathan did a double take. He knew no boy with that name at the school. He was worried. A new boy could be anything. More pleasing for Jonathan was the red star by his name on the list on the door, acknowledging that he had replaced Pip as dorm captain. After unpacking, Jonathan made his way down stairs in search of companionship, conscious as always of his tow-white hair drawing attention to his presence at every turn.

As Pip sorted out his socks upstairs, the noise of another car arriving diverted his attention. It was the Morgans in a new expensive looking German car. Not many of them were to be seen in this part of the country. Pip and Owen were sat on the window ledge, Owen taking in the comings and goings.

"Look, it's a BMW. You can see the logo on the front." Pip was not as impressed as Owen. He leaned towards the MG as the car of his dreams. Nevertheless, he stopped sorting his socks and looked out of the window as the car crunched to a halt. Out stepped Peter Morgan, the new Head Boy and Pip's classmate. He eyed up the main building of the school.

"Back in the jug again," the weariness of a long flight from Hong Kong the previous day telling in his voice. Mrs Morgan stepped out of the car, pulling her skirt down to the middle of her thigh. Mrs Morgan was quite glamorous. Although meant to be a private word to her son, Mrs Morgan's voice drifted upwards to the open dormitory window.

"Now, Peter, as the new Head Boy that is hardly the right attitude to start a new term with, is it?"

Peter went round to the back of the car and opened the boot, busying himself to distract his mother who could be quite strict on occasions.

"Oh, Mother, I am only joking, honest."

"Darling, yes, I know you are, but today, well, you know." She looked meaningfully at the car. Peter blushed. He had picked on a sensitive subject, a discussion they had had on the flight. Mrs Morgan was trying to hide her own inner turmoil, her doubts about today. She faltered as the back car door opened and Peter's older sister, the very glamorous Samantha, stepped out followed uncertainly by a smaller boy holding her hand. Mr Barnes at least had a clue to the boy's identity. His face matched the face from the photograph. At first the mystery boy's face was not visible to those above as he was looking out towards the sea, kicking the gravel suspiciously before emerging after his sister and standing up, totally concealed by the car apart from his red hair.

Uncertainly the younger boy took in the view slowly and then turned and braved a look up at the main part of the school. His gaze took in the window where Pip was peering out. Their eyes crossed paths briefly. The boy's eyes were partially hidden under a long fringe. As soon as he made eye contact with Pip, the mystery boy turned his gaze elsewhere, sizing up The Rocks and its surroundings. Of Pip's brief glimpse of the boy's face, one feature was immediately visible. He had the remains of a black eye, a purplish ring visible even to Pip looking from the dormitory window.

Peter, knowing he was in disgrace with his mother, tried to put right his previous wrong and sound enthusiastic again.

"Come on, Sacha. Welcome to your new school. There's an awful lot for me to show you."

"That's a good idea. Why don't you show him around?"

"I will once we get settled in."

So Sacha was his name. Pip stored it away. It was an unusual name, not one he was familiar with at all.

Mrs Morgan looked uncertainly around the school. Was this the right place for her youngest? It had not been her idea to send him to The Rocks. She would have preferred to keep Sacha at St Christopher's in Hong Kong, but Mr Morgan would have none of it. The boy had to go to school in England to have the best chance of getting a scholarship to a good school. Best to start him out with a school they were familiar with through Peter than straight into a new and alien school to all of them. Reluctantly Mrs Morgan had agreed to the plan, especially now that Samantha was not far away in Bristol, having just started her medical degree.

Sacha, dressed in his all-new uniform, looked uncertainly all around him, taking everything in. He continued to hold his sister's hand. It was strange, as uncomfortable as the clothes he had put on for the first time that morning. With his other hand he clung tightly to a small kit bag with his regulation overnight things packed inside. The boy's uniform school shorts confirmed his status as probably a Fourth Former.

Mrs Morgan kissed Peter quickly on his cheek before he turned away and headed towards the front entrance to greet Mr Barnes, embarrassed by his mother's tenderness in public. "Good afternoon, sir. Good to be back."

"Good to see you too, Peter, and I see you have brought someone new with you this time?"

"My brother, sir. He's coming to join us this term."

Brother? Then Pip remembered. Peter had mentioned a younger brother on a few occasions.

"Ah yes, we were expecting him."

Mr Barnes walked up to the car where two trunks were emerging from the boot. Sacha, helped by his sister, pulled at one end of his trunk then stopped, distracted by Mr Barnes who came up to the car.

Mrs Morgan put her left arm around Sacha's shoulders as the boy raised his head in query, again a flash of dark eyes.

"Good afternoon, Mr Barnes."

"Good afternoon, Mrs Morgan, and you, sir, must be Alexei?"

Sacha looked up at his mother, his nose raised in a mixture of query and pleading. Something was not quite right. Seeing Sacha's discomfort, Mrs Morgan intervened on his behalf.

"Actually, he is always called Sacha, rather than Alexei. Alexei is strictly for his birth certificate and passport. It's a family thing."

"Oh, how unusual. Alexei is rather a fine name, but then so is Sacha, unique in the school. We don't have either. Don't worry. A number of our boys are called by their informal names." Mrs Morgan paused, then thought to explain the naming discrepancy.

"He is named after my father, his grandfather – the Russian bit of the family."

Mr Barnes wrote a little note for Mrs Porter to change the details for Sacha in all the school records.

Mrs Porter went on. "I do hope it is not too much bother squeezing him in for this year."

"Oh, not at all. His report tells us Sacha is quite a catch academically. Isn't that so, Sacha?"

"Sir?"

The boy spoke with a slight lisp, more pronounced at the moment, as he was still very tired after the long flight yesterday.

"He means you're supposed to be bright, clever dick." Peter hovered, not happy at Sacha's time in the limelight.

"Oh, yes sir, I suppose so."

Mr Barnes turned to Peter. "Well, perhaps, Peter, you can take your younger brother up to his dorm. He is in the one below yours, 5W. Matron has put a nameplate on his locker there. He's bunking with Jonathan Pierce, who will be acting as his Shadow too."

"Pierce as your Shadow? Oh that will be interesting for you, Sacha."

"Shadow?"

"It means he is responsible for looking after you, showing you where things are and that sort of thing."

"Oh, okay."

"I can't do it. I'm Head Boy as of this term, but don't worry. I'll be around of course, but it is best to have a Shadow in your dorm."

"Oh, right."

Pip realised Sacha was older than he had first estimated. He must be a Fifth Former to be in 5W with Jonathan. Pip watched as Sacha turned towards his mother seeking confirmation. "Shall I go with Peter now?"

"Yes, dear, you had better run along."

"Come on, Sacha, I will show you your dorm and introduce you to Pierce."

Mrs Morgan kissed her youngest firmly on his cheek. Sam lifted him off the ground in a big hug and kissed the top of his head.

"Don't let big bro tease you, you hear?"

Sacha's indignant reply was part muffled by his head in her chest. "Come on, let me go."

Sacha glared at his sister briefly as she put him down and visibly bridled when she tapped him on his nose with her finger.

"Sacha, you had better run along. We will see you in next to no time. You've got Peter here and I am at Bristol Uni so not too far away. Just keep your nose clean and do write ever so often. More than your brother, I hope."

"I promise."

Sacha looked back at his mother, but he knew that it was time to go inside. Overt displays of affection were not the done thing at school as Peter had drilled into him on the long boring flight over from Hong Kong.

This was the first time Sacha would live in England. To him Hong Kong was the only home he knew, the place where he was born and where he had spent all his eleven years to date. To Sacha, England and Europe were places he visited in the summer. He felt unfamiliar with many things around him, even though he knew he was supposed to belong here in this subdued grey and cold land. However, he recognised much of what The Rocks was about from his time at St Christopher's back in Hong Kong.

Their two boys now securely in the hands of The Rocks, the female Morgans disappeared in a jet of gravel up the school drive. Pip turned back to the dorm, intrigued by the sight of the new boy. The moment he had set eyes on Sacha Pip knew he was captivated in a way he had not experienced before. Compared to Jonathan, Sacha was times ten, but ten of what? Throughout the afternoon Mr Barnes continued to tick off names as the steady stream of boys continued to arrive. Once he was satisfied he had a full complement, he would hand the list to Captain Porter in his study just before tea.

With Peter's arrival 6W was now complete. The six boys of 6W luxuriated in their prestige status of being in the top dorm and stayed inside, unpacking and ordering their possessions. Because of the pitch of the roof, they even had their own sitting area formed by a lower bunk against one wall and a piano stool on the other.

Apart from Peter the boys in the dorm gathered in the sitting area. The twins took up position on the piano stool as Clancy produced his Christmas present, a book of African anthropology. What held the interest of the other boys were the images of young tribeswomen, naked from the waist up, proudly displaying their prominent breasts to the photographer without a hint of modesty or shame. The twins studied the pictures with interest, the book shared between them, each with one knee up and the other touching his brother's. There was an earnest silence as the twins flicked the pages back and forth before they found their favourite image, four necklaced girls in their late teens, breasts proudly displayed, eyes glazed as they took part in some tribal courtship ceremony.

When Owen and Pip's turn came to look at the book, Pip turned the pages one after the other, stopping for only the most interesting images. Guiltily, Pip found himself pausing not just at the bare breasted girls of interest to the others, but also at a rites of passage ceremony for boys. Two African boys about his age stared curiously at the camera, naked but for a single string around their waist and another around one ankle. What interested Pip was the pride on the faces of both boys, boys yet becoming men. Clancy peered over Pip's shoulder seeing his interest.

"Rites of passage, it happens at about the age of puberty, at about our age."

Pip tried not to look too interested as Clancy decided to take the book back for now. After unpacking all their clothes and other miscellaneous items, the remainder of the afternoon was spent by the boys renewing acquaintances, some showing off of Christmas presents and checking the various lists that the school thrived on.

Teatime came along all too quickly, the first meeting of the whole school. The six boys of 6W descended down for tea as a group. To show their superiority to the rest, they deliberately came down last. All the boys in the school gathered to form a noisy queue outside the dining hall. Pip joined the queue with with Clancy and the ever hungry Owen. Just ahead were Peter and the Johnson twins. Halfway along the queue were the boys of 5W. Jonathan marked out their position, his hair still catching the light even as dusk approached. Next to him was the new boy Sacha, staying close to Jonathan, but so far not talking to anyone, but occupying his time looking around him to try and become familiar with his new home. The two boys were similar in height Pip noticed. The Johnson twins were still intrigued about Peter's claims to having a girlfriend in France last summer. In the absence of any further evidence from Peter other than two blurry photographs of an admittedly good looking teenage girl, there were widely differing views as to whether or not Peter had been going steady or not. If anyone knew how true this claim was, it would have to be his brother Sacha. Now he had joined the school, the ever-curious Johnson twins were very keen to have the truth from Sacha. Normally the boys did not mix between years as a rule, but the Johnson twins, decided to see what they could find out from Sacha.

As the new boy sat down awkwardly at a table with Jonathan and two other Fifth Formers, the twins pounced and sat on the same table. Pip, seeing his chance, grabbed a seat, at the end next to Sacha. On the opposite side to Sacha was Jonathan who looked once in his direction and then swiftly away, his awkwardness in Pip's presence uncharacteristically visible.

As Sacha started to pick at his food, uncomfortable in his new surroundings, Pip was able to examine him close to. Apart from the dark chestnut red hair, closer examination showed the new boy had pale translucent skin dotted with well-defined freckles. Apart from the bruising around his left eye, he also had a cut behind his ear and two faint scars, one on his left cheek and one above his brow, the usual marks of boyhood.

The twins wanted information about Peter's adventures with his cousin.

"So did you see your cousin Emma last summer?"

Kit started the questioning as always. Robbie rarely took the lead in these situations, preferring to lead his brother on the pitch or track. Sacha looked up from his sausages and mash, a couple of baked beans speared on his fork, a type of food largely alien to him. He looked puzzled at this first opening question from the identical twins whom he had never met before. Why the interest in his cousin Emma?

Pip watched Sacha intently. He noticed the boy's deep set and dark eyes were questioning and uncertain.

"What do you know about Emma?" Sacha was not at all sure about where this line of conversation was heading. So he parried with an ambiguous answer. "She's a cousin."

"Oh, Peter has said quite a lot about Emma."

Pip helped out, his first chance to speak to the new boy. Sacha looked at the tallish fair skinned boy sitting beside him. His hair, sunburnt blond still, was feathered on top and cropped back at the sides, but not at the back where it remained long.

"Peter claimed that your cousin Emma was his girlfriend last summer. Is that true?"

All eyes turned to Sacha. Sacha knew he had to give some sort of answer. To say no to a group of boys he would be spending much of the next fourteen weeks with was hardly likely to endear him to them. Knowing that there was no avoiding the issue, he collected his thoughts and then gave an answer that he hoped would satisfy everyone.

"Well, they did go off together a few times when we were on holiday last summer." He went back to his plate, probing a sausage, uncertain whether that would be enough. It wasn't. Kit probed further.

"Where on holiday?"

"In the South of France. We were camping with my uncle and aunt."

"So what's this about them in the back of a car?"

Peter had claimed that the climax of his time with Emma had involved a romantic encounter in the back of her father's car late one night. Sacha looked up from under his fringe. He remained quiet. A frown crossed his face. Perhaps he had said too much already? He could be in trouble with Peter. Intrigued, the Johnson twins fired a rapid set of questions at Sacha.

"Were they sharing a tent together?"

"No, Peter was sharing with me."

"Was he in the tent with you every night?"

"Yes, every night of course."

"Did he get up to anything with Emma then or is it all untrue?"

Sacha looked around. Peter was talking to Mr Durrant, tray in hand. Sacha was trapped and would have to deal with this by himself. "Well, he did come back late with Emma one night and they got into trouble, but I don't know any more as I was already asleep."

Sacha, unhappy with this barrage, began to look uncomfortable, a sensation increased when Peter approached with his plate of bangers and mash. Peter made room for himself by squeezing in between Kit and a Fifth Former.

"Mixed company I see. What's this all about?" He looked first at the Johnson twins and then saw that the focus was firmly on Sacha. "For those of you have not been formally introduced, this is my little brother. He's new to the school this term. Say hello, Sacha."

"Hello." Sacha looked around obediently and nodded at the assembled boys. He disliked intensely being referred to as 'little' even though he was conscious that that was exactly what he was. He bristled, but kept it to himself. Now was probably not the time to pick a fight with Peter.

"So what is this all about? Some kind of interrogation of the new boy?" Peter turned to his brother. "Sacha, what have you been saying?" There was a veiled air of menace in Peter's voice.

"Nothing much. Besides I'm finished with tea. So I'm going now." Sacha knew it was time to exit before Peter got nasty with him. He looked around, seeing other boys already leaving, trays in hand, and rose from the table, following in their wake.

Pip's curiosity got the better of him. He bolted the remains of his last sausage and got up to follow Sacha as the others remained and began to cross-examine Peter again on his claims for Emma, now armed with the additional information given by Sacha. As Sacha headed to the door following the other boys he was not sure what to do with his plate and glass. Seeing this, Pip came alongside him and guided the new boy.

"Here, you put your things just here, like this." Pip separated everything out on his tray and Sacha, observing closely obediently followed suit.

"Oh thanks." It was simple once you knew what to do. The two boys walked out of the dining room, picking up their duffel coats off the racks as they left and walked into the gathering dusk of an early January afternoon. All the boys were excused prep because it was the first day back. Because it was cold and had rained recently, most boys retreated indoors. However, Pip decided to follow Sacha down the path past the playing fields to Parson's Leap, the school's own little headland. Pip caught up with the younger boy on the second terrace.

"It's a mixed blessing having Peter as your bro." Sacha turned around, weary of questions from boys he did not know, suspicious now of the motives.

"Yes, it is sometimes."

Pip ventured another question. "You must be pretty close in age?"

"We are a year apart, exactly one year apart, to the day. We share our birthday."

Sacha turned and looked at the fair-haired boy now walking beside him, hands in pockets.

"I didn't catch your name, sorry."

"Oh, it's Cox, Philip Cox, Pip to everyone, like the boy in _Great Expectations_. I'm in the Sixth Form with Peter and we are in the top dorm as well."

Sacha absorbed this and other new information as the two boys walked single file down the path towards the cliff top on which the school was perched. Pip led the way down the path as it zigzagged down the various pitches.

"Oh, that's right. Peter mentioned you on the flight over. He said you were one of the boys doing scholarship exams."

"Oh, did he?"

"He pointed at you in the school photo from last year."

"How did you know it was me?" Pip was now very curious.

"You stood out." Sacha was good at leaving some things unsaid in his answers.

"Why was that? I mean, why did I stand out?"

"Your hair. You had long blond hair in the picture Peter showed me. Not now of course as it has been cut. You had very light streaky hair, the lightest of all of them, I mean apart from the boy with white hair. Jonathan's in my dormitory, he has the bunk above mine. He's my Shadow."

Sacha did not give a complete answer to the question. Peter had said more about Pip and one or two other boys including Jonathan, but Sacha knew better than to say more just now.

"Strawberry blond, that is what they say I am, strawberry blond in summer when the sun gets to it, not as much as when I was younger. Jonathan's hair is always like that. Still having Jonathan as your Shadow, that should be fun."

"That's what Peter said. Why?"

"Oh, he gets up to all sorts, does Jonathan. You will never have a dull moment with him. His hair was not always that colour. He fell out of the top of a tree when he was younger and it turned that colour afterwards apparently. He's in your form. I was in the same form as him until last year, but not this year as I leave in the summer."

"How come? I mean how come you are a year ahead now?"

"Oh, there are only two months between me and Jonathan. I am the youngest in the Sixth Form and he is the oldest in the Fifth. I was born in August and he was born in September. If you are going to do a scholarship, they move you up through the Forms faster. I did my first year in two terms, that sort of thing."

"Oh, it all sounds a bit complicated. They say I am supposed to do the scholarship next year."

Sacha chewed on all this information for a little while in silence. He never spoke unless he had something to say. Idle chatter wasn't part of his make up. Pip normally chatted away with anyone. However, with this new boy he struggled for something more to say. He felt he must keep the conversation going to avoid any awkwardness. He wanted to get to know Sacha. He was already very drawn to the younger boy, not because he held the key to his brother's reputation as a girl conqueror, but for Sacha himself. Pip let Sacha take the lead, content to follow so he could observe the younger boy.

In the coming weeks Pip would get to find out that Sacha was a confident boy, normally at the centre of attention, a position he achieved not by being an out and out extrovert like Jonathan, but the quietly confident sort of boy like his brother Peter. But despite his confidence, Sacha could be engagingly shy and self-deprecating. Pip guessed Sacha's skills in handling others came from having a slightly older brother. Peter and Sacha had probably been treated like a pair of twins some of the time, much like the Johnson twins always were. So he was always used to being with other people, but there was something else about Sacha that drew Pip to him. It was part physical, he could sense that, but part something else, something in his personality, something guarded that Pip had detected almost immediately.

The two boys walked across the pitch towards the cliff edge. Off the field they passed the chapel ruins, the Celtic cross and the burial mound before finally reaching the little promontory with the dovecote where two bench seats looked out over the sea. Unbidden, Sacha sat down. Pip sat next to him, looking out to sea. Sacha was happy to sit silently, contemplating his survival of his first day at his new school. His legs kicking out underneath him, the gravel flying out from under his shoes, his knees scarred with the usual marks most boys accumulate at that age.

Pip started the conversation again, wanting to learn more about Sacha.

"Sacha, that's an unusual name."

"No different to Pip. That's hardly usual is it?"

"Well, Pip is just short for Philip, not that unusual."

"My mother, she's half Russian. She decided to christen me Alexei as most of the boys in the family carry that name. She doesn't really like the name Alexei. So she has always insisted that I am called Sacha. It was the same with my grandfather and great grandfather when they were boys. My great grandfather was supposedly something important before the Russian revolution, but I don't know what."

"Well, you are the only Sacha I have ever heard of, slightly exotic."

"That's what everyone says. Sometimes I wish it was just Alex, short for Alexei or like Peter, something a bit more normal. I mean it doesn't go with the surname does it? Morgan is Cornish after all. That is why we are here at The Rocks, Peter and me. My father rather fancied the idea. He went to school here during the war when it was St Finian's."

"Oh, I don't think it's a bad idea having an unusual name. Imagine being called John. There are so many other boys with the same name. I think there is a Peter or John in almost every class at The Rocks."

The sun was setting rapidly. Pip pointed out the sights whilst they were still visible. All the time the waves kept up a running accompaniment, crashing onto the rocks below them before swishing back out to sea again. Pip looked at his watch. Free time was important in a boarding school where the boys were deliberately kept occupied from morning until bedtime each day. In the view of Captain Porter constant activity was the best way to keep all sorts of mischief at bay.

"We had better get back, Sacha. Evening prayers in ten minutes."

"What happens then?"

"Well, typically, after prayers it is prep, then free time until bedtime and showers."

"I'll follow you. I don't know where I am going yet."

"This way," Pip shouted against the wind. "Prayers and assemblies are in the big barn over there, the one we were in earlier with the dining hall. The other end is for PE and changing rooms."

The boys walked back together towards the buildings. The lights had now been switched on to counteract the gathering gloom. Assembly was just about to start when Pip and Sacha arrived. Pip directed Sacha to his Fifth year group two rows in front of the Sixth Form. Being the first day of term, the boys grew restless as an interminable list of announcements that were being made about games, places out of bounds, the rugger fixtures and the annual trip to Scotland. Captain Porter kept that until last.

"Finally I want to mention the annual trip for some of the older boys to Staffin Lodge up on the Isle of Skye. Those of you in the Fifth and Sixth Forms can sign up for a place. If there are more names than places, I will prioritise Sixth Formers, as this is their last chance. The trip is at the end of term just before the Easter holidays."

Pip remembered being bitterly disappointed last year as he had missed out on the trip. He had been considered too young to undertake the various hikes that took place during the trip.

After prayers the older boys went back to their dorms to tidy up the inevitable mess from unpacking. As they walked upstairs, Owen came alongside him.

"We should be able to go this year, Pip."

"I hope so, yes." Pip was already thinking ahead. Which Fifth Formers would be going? He hoped Sacha would be coming. Elsewhere in the school, the younger boys were made ready for bed, earlier than usual much to their vociferous protests. When Pip and Owen entered their dorm, Peter had already succumbed to jetlag and quietly taken himself to bed, his head facing the wall oblivious to the noise around him. One floor below him, his younger brother Sacha had similarly thrown himself into bed at the earliest opportunity. He was now sprawled motionless face down, completely buried under his bed linen. Mrs Porter came in to check on the Fifth Form dormitory since it was the first day of term. She looked over to where Sacha was lying face down under the covers. The covers looked as though they might fall off in the night. So carefully Mrs Porter rearranged the bedding, pulling the eiderdown right up almost over his head so that it would not fall off. From the bunk above Jonathan watched Mrs Porter. He had yet to change properly, his shorts off, his shirt unbuttoned, still two socks half dangling from his feet. As she rose from tucking Sacha into his bed, Mrs Porter playfully tugged on one of Jonathan's socks.

"Time to get ready for bed, Jonathan. You are too old for me to dress you now," a reminder of an earlier age when Jonathan, feigning clumsiness, had persuaded Mrs Porter to dress him the first morning at school.

"Yes, Miss."

* * *

Excused from dormitory duties, Mr Barnes sat in his room and after turning on the fire, set to solving the _Times_ crossword, a glass of scotch beside him. Seeing as it was the first day of term, Mr Barnes had poured an extra large tot for himself, his only vice he liked to think, ignoring the smoke trailing from the ever-present cigarette in its holder.

*****

Chapter 5 - Lent Term 1968

The first lesson of the term was English with Mr Barnes, a gentle return to the daily grind of learning. Lower down the school Mr Barnes spent a lot of time reading to the younger boys, who were always enraptured by his ability to put on a wide range of different voices, but with the Sixth Form boys Mr Barnes took far more interest in the subject as he could now have real conversations with the boys on literature.

Over the holidays they were supposed to have read _Coral Island_ and _Lord of the Flies_. Mr Barnes glanced around the room. Judging from the reaction of some of the boys to the lesson, it was apparent that some had only very briefly skimmed through the two books. Pip, he was glad to note, had read both books cover to cover and seemed especially enthralled with the idea of being a castaway, something that suited his romantic dreamy side.

"So what do we make of the two books? Are they connected in any way?"

Clancy was first to speak, his right as the brightest boy in the Sixth Form.

"They are both about boy castaways, sir, and their struggle for survival."

Hardly the most observant finding, but at least it was a start. Mr Barnes looked to Pip, who clearly had something to say, even though he had not yet volunteered.

"Well, Pip?"

"The two main characters in _Lord of the Flies_ , Ralph and Jack have the same names as the two boys in _Coral Island_. I am sure that is not a coincidence."

"Most probably not. Why do you think that is?"

"Writer's conceit, sir, to lull the unwary into a false sense of security that the _Lord of the Flies_ is just another adventure story."

"And isn't it just another adventure story, Pip?"

"In one way yes, but in another it is more about good and evil and how quickly the boys become savages. That shows up in the end; the bit when the other boys kill Simon and Piggy. By the end all, including Ralph, have become savages." There were a couple of gasps in the room; some boys clearly had not yet finished reading the book. "That was like the death of civilisation or reason. Although I think the author may have got it wrong in one way."

"Oh really, what might he have got wrong, Pip?" Mr Barnes was intrigued; Pip clearly had been doing some thinking.

"Well, I think perhaps Jack was right when he concentrates on getting food, when he says 'we need meat' perhaps that was the right thing to do at the beginning rather than to look for rescue."

"So really what you are saying is that Jack's priorities are the more immediate ones whereas Ralph was more interested in the longer term, civilisation?"

"Precisely, sir, it's not as black and white or good and bad, merely a difference in priority. Jack understood that the immediate priorities were food perhaps, and having strong leadership. Ralph wanted civilisation more than anything, even at the risk of not having enough food to meet the immediate needs."

Mr Barnes surveyed the class, their usual early term torpor already cleared.

"Interesting, any others see that?"

"It was the choir that became savages, sir."

Peter's comment caused much amusement.

"Well that should come as no surprise to anyone should it, Peter? After all, that probably applies at this school as much as anywhere else. Beware boys with angelic voices."

Mr Barnes looked meaningfully at Pip. He was no longer a choirboy. Pip's reputation was somewhat sullied since last term.

The English lesson soon passed, but double maths with Mr Durrant went more slowly, unless you were Clancy, who seemed to enjoy maths as if it were a giant puzzle with clues to solve. For Pip maths was a series of disconnected events with no central purpose other than the setting of exams even though he could walk through most of maths; it just didn't interest him very much.

The final lesson that morning was art. In the Sixth Form Pip was dismayed to find he was down to just one art lesson a week. Still Mrs Prince persevered with the boys and encouraged those, like Pip and Peter, who showed any real talent. That term, their work was to be figurative. Pip found himself concentrating hard on a large blank piece of paper and then slowly let a swirl of looping lines travel across the sheet, some intersecting, some flying over and under each other, like a complex road map, yet that was not what it was. Pip was not entirely sure, but he imagined veins and arteries. It was enough to satisfy Mrs Prince, who would collect several of Pip's drawings for the art show on sports day at the end of the school year.

Now that the term proper had started, the seating at lunch was strictly by class so Pip sat with his fellow Sixth Formers. Every so often, when not engaged in a conversation about _Lord of the Flies_ Pip looked two tables over to where the new boy Sacha was sitting deep in conversation with Mr Durrant, Jonathan alongside him. Pip found himself jealous of Jonathan. He did lessons with Sacha and shared a dormitory with him, all for an accident of birth. Three weeks later and Pip might have been in the same form.

After lunch was the reading period. As a member of the Sixth Form, Pip was allowed to read in the Sixth Form common room, a privilege that he took full advantage of. Pip was a keen reader; he could easily lose himself in a good book. Over the years he had moved on from _Dr Doolittle, Biggles_ and _Tintin_. Pip was working his way through the _Swallows and Amazons_ series and was currently enthralled with _Peter Duck_ , despite the presence of girls in the story.

The afternoon of the first full day of the term saw most of the Fifth and Sixth Formers grouped together on the senior pitches where the major matches were played. Thirty odd boys were milling about before being divided into two scratch teams seemingly at random to play a game of rugby. As it was the beginning of term, the boys were comparatively smart in their school regulation games kit of black shorts and olive green and purple harlequin shirt accompanied by purple socks. Underneath was the second 'away' shirt, all white apart from a purple collar and green cuffs.

In the space of this games session Mr Wallace and Mr Durrant hoped to choose the First XV for rugby. The school had a small number of fixtures with neighbouring schools in Cornwall and Devon, which meant finding a respectable team to field. On occasions, they even fielded a Second XV, but this was quite a challenge with a good number of Fifth Form boys making up the numbers. In the initial selection process, Pip found himself playing as a lock in a team opposite the Johnson twins, Peter Morgan, Jonathan and Sacha. Peter and the Johnson twins were bound to be the core of the First XV, fast and with sufficient mass to break through any opposing team. But it was another selection that interested Pip. Both Jonathan and Sacha were placed on opposing wings. As Jonathan was left footed he was on the left and Sacha on the right. It quickly became apparent why these two were on the wings; both boys were small and nimble, fast on the ball and able to catch on the run. Sacha seemed to enjoy throwing himself into the fray with great enthusiasm and not a little recklessness, his spotless new games kit soon covered in mud. Mr Wallace was soon taking note of a possible team player.

Pip himself settled for the second row of the scrum, not heavy enough to be in the front row and no longer small and nimble enough to be out on the wing. Rugby rarely made use of Pip's pace in an open field.

The game was very uneven. Pip's team was being flattened and never seemed to have possession. Not long into the game Pip realised that he was playing against the first choice team and had not made his way into it in the initial selection process. Normally that would not have bothered him, as he disliked the physicality of rugger, having twisted his neck badly in a collapsing scrum last year. However, the thought of not being in the First XV when it looked likely that Sacha and Jonathan were going to play in the team gave Pip a new lease of energy and enthusiasm. Twice towards the end of the game Pip found himself with the ball running clear. He used his pace to outdistance most of the other players in an attempt to score. On the first run Pip scored much to his team's delight. Spurred on by this success, five minutes later, Pip made another run forward with the ball. He was almost clear through when suddenly Sacha chased him down from the wing and tackled him hard. With his weight behind him, the younger boy leapt, with both hands enclosing Pip's thighs, locking them together and forcing him into a fall that made Pip crash into the damp Cornish mud.

"Oi!"

Pip turned over rapidly to see his attacker squatting on his haunches, hands between his knees, much like an ape would stand, a broad smile on his face.

"Oh sorry!"

Sacha jumped to his feet, still broadly grinning before extending a hand. For a precious moment Pip was tempted to push one of his feet out, trip Sacha and pull the younger boy down into the mud and wipe the grin off his dirt-splattered face to show the younger boy who was boss. However, this thought passed in a fraction of a second and another more generous response emerged from Pip as he took the proffered hand and let the younger boy pull him up, his hand holding Sacha's grasp a fraction longer than strictly necessary.

"That was a good tackle. Where did you learn to play that?"

"We played Sevens at school in Hong Kong; I am good at tackles." Sacha smiled, he didn't do it often, but when he did, his whole face lit up.

Although Pip's efforts were not rewarded with a try second time around, it was clear Mr Wallace was suitably impressed with both his new right wing and the sudden surge of enthusiasm from the normally unenthusiastic Pip. Mr Wallace decided to add Pip's name to the list. It was not going to be a particularly good team this year, but Pip would at least make up the numbers in the scrum with his powerful legs and with his pace he might score the odd try on break-out from a scrum.

As the week progressed, Pip began to look forward to the afternoon games sessions, mostly because it was the one time he could legitimately mix with Sacha as they both now played in the First Game for rugby on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. However, for cross-country on Wednesdays, the Fifth Form boys were in separate games as cross-country was done by year.

* * *

Saturdays were very different to the rest of the week. The boys were allowed a half hour lie in before having to get up. Lessons took up the morning and then the afternoon was taken up with a Hares and Hound race around Trendrine for the Fifth and Sixth Form with Pip and Peter playing the hares. Hares and Hounds was something Pip enjoyed playing normally, but with Peter it was all hard work as they laid false trails and back tracked twice until finally, exhausted they ended the trail at Parson's Leap.

"You never said much about your kid brother before, did you?"

"Oh Sacha? Well he was always kept at school in Hong Kong. He only came this term at the last minute. Our dad insisted."

"It must be funny having a brother so close in age. You must be like twins."

"We are absolutely not like twins. He's different to me, completely different."

Pip looked at Peter. Something told him this was not a conversation to continue. Luckily voices in the distance told them that the 'hounds' were on their way.

"Come on, let's go, and just put the last of the trail down to Chapel Cove."

The two boys duly laid the trail and then made it back to the School before the others and grabbed the only two baths before the others arrived ten minutes later, led by the Johnson twins.

That Saturday evening, as always, the boys were shown a film organised by Mr Wallace and Mr Durrant. Coming in late after an involved discussion with Clancy and Owen over _Lord of the Flies_ , Pip found himself looking all around for Sacha. Finally he spied the younger boy at the front of the audience sitting on the floor, knees enclosed in his hands with some other Fifth Formers and not with the other older boys at the back. Sunday morning was a dreary time for Pip as it was taken up with the mandatory visit to the local church for the weekly service, followed by the weekly letter-writing period. Mrs Porter also gave a French conversation class to the Sixth Form, which kept them occupied until lunchtime.

Of all the boys at school, only Jonathan was excused the church service. He went with Mrs Porter to the Catholic Church in St Ives where he was due to be confirmed later that year.

After eating their traditional roast Sunday lunch in school the older boys were free to do what they wanted. Most Sunday afternoons the Fifth and Sixth Formers were let out in pairs or groups so long as they told the master on duty where they were going, what they were up to and when they were due back. The younger boys were supervised in the gym or on the playing fields with Mr Barnes sometimes taking a small group of strays to St Ives to wander the streets, feed the seagulls and generally forget that they had been ignored by their peers. Had he realised that Sacha was at a loose end, Mr Barnes would have taken Sacha as well. That Sunday, Pip had made plans to spend it with Clancy and Owen. However, that plan changed in an instant when he spied Sacha walking alone down towards the cliff top.

For Sacha the first week at school had passed like a whirlwind, but now he was left to his own devices. He was at that awkward stage for new boys where he had acquaintances, but not yet friends who would go out of their way to spend time with him. Sacha himself had no clear plan in his mind other than to post a letter to his sister, which he held tightly in his hand.

On seeing the opportunity to be with Sacha at last, Pip turned to his companions.

"Oh look, I have forgotten something, you two go on ahead. I'll look for you in St Ives."

"Are you sure? We can always wait." Owen wanted to stay and wait. He always did.

"No, no, you two go ahead."

Clancy was eager to get going. So Owen followed obediently, as Pip waited up in the dorm for a few seconds for his companions to leave the coast clear for him. Pip finally caught up with Sacha as he passed through the playing fields and out of the gate. After being hemmed in by other boys all week, Sacha was desperate for some time alone for once.

"Hey, Sacha! You're not supposed to go out by your self, even as a Fifth Former, you know."

Sacha emerged from his thoughts of life back home with a start. "Oh sorry, Pip. Should I go back then?"

"No, that's all right. You are with me now... that is if that is okay with you?"

"Oh, okay, I suppose I would be in trouble otherwise?"

"Oh yes, out on your own, big offence, you would be kept in next Sunday afternoon at the very least."

"Oh right."

Sacha buried his nose inside his duffel coat to try and keep it out of the wind that swept the North Coast at this time of year. The boys walked together down to the coast path, a much-frequented route. Sacha would not have been in much trouble coming down here. Mr Wallace would have just ticked him off. He rarely sent boys he liked to Captain Porter if he felt he could handle it himself.

"Thanks, I just wanted to get away. There are too many boys around sometimes. I can't think in school."

"It's not much of a place for peace and solitude, particularly when it is wet."

Pip realised he had a chance to have Sacha for company. In truth he was feeling a bit lonely now that he could not go off with Jonathan any more like they used to.

"Fancy a walk down to St Ives then?"

The question was pitched in a manner that invited acceptance, but would not cause undue offence if Sacha decided against it and went back to school. Sacha stopped and thought for a second. "Oh, but I don't have any money or anything. Just this letter to post."

It was a reasoned response and one that Pip knew could go either way. He thought about it. You didn't need money when in school so it was quite likely that Sacha, being a new boy just hadn't thought to ask for his weekly allowance from Mr Barnes on Saturday. Still, Pip decided, this was too good an opportunity to miss. He did some calculations based on the money in his pocket.

"Don't worry. I wasn't proposing anything more than a walk and possibly a Mars bar. I am sure I could spare you a bite of that."

"Oh okay, thanks, I will. That will be nice."

Sacha was grateful. He was feeling a bit left out on his own. Any reasonable company was welcome and Pip seemed friendly enough. The two boys walked off together. Shortly Pip diverted and took a route that would avoid most of the other boys passing inland along what was known as the Coffin Path. It alternated open fields with little patches of path hemmed in by walls or hedging. Few used it. It was the route he sometimes took with Jonathan. Then he and Jonathan had been partners in crime always looking for the opportunity to sneak into the woods when no one else was around, Jonathan normally inventing some activity out of sight of the school to keep them both amused.

Pip was more cautious now. He did not want tongues wagging. He knew that seeing him with a Fifth Former like Sacha might appear 'odd' to some. Pip was careful to keep to a route that although visible all the way to St Ives was not popular with the other boys as it was inland. Not that Sacha would know that.

The town of St Ives was deep in its winter shut down. For the most part the locals were content to wait for the summer trade. However, even in the depths of winter there was still some trade to be had from local day-trippers escaping the deeper gloom elsewhere, enough to keep a couple of the shops open, the main galleries and some of the tea rooms and cafés.

After a blustery walk along the top Pip and Sacha walked down the steep hill and into the town itself, pausing to post Sacha's letter. Pip spent their walk selecting a venue, not his favourite haunt, a café overlooking the raw seascape where they might bump into any number of other Sixth Formers huddled around the pinball machines or hoping for a chat with the local girls who used the café. Instead Pip led Sacha to a small café cum gallery just round the corner up a small lane where he hoped they would be unobserved. After carefully consulting his coins, Pip decided that they could sit down to two mugs of cocoa. That was all he could afford. The Mars bars would have to wait for another occasion.

"It's cold. I'll treat us to a cocoa each, okay?"

"Cocoa?"

"Like hot chocolate."

"Oh"

Pip looked around. Although the café was almost busy. The boys found a corner to themselves. Two small duffel coated figures in jeans and shirts clearly from The Rocks thawing out against the January cold outside.

"Sit over there. I'll get the cocoas."

Pip returned from the counter with two steaming mugs. Sacha sipped his cocoa cautiously; it was not a drink he was used to. Following Pip's example he added sugar to make the drink sweet enough to swallow. In the initial silence whilst both boys sipped their over hot drinks, Pip observed Sacha again. The boy's hair was windswept, his cheeks reddened by the wind, his nose runny and his lips chapped with cold.

"So why did you come to The Rocks this term? I mean, Peter came the same time as me, and you should have come a year later, surely?"

"Oh, Mum and Dad decided to keep me in Hong Kong. Mum is a bit of a fusspot. She said I wasn't ready to go to boarding school in England. So I went to a school in Hong Kong, jolly nice one too, and mixed. But I am supposed to spend at least two years here to do scholarship exams for my public school next year. There were big rows about it; my dad insisted that I had to come last term, but Mum said no. She wanted me to stay at home until Sam was settled at university in Bristol. That sort of thing."

Sacha was happy to open up a bit to Pip, alone, just the two of them. Sacha gave a glimpse into a home life with parents concerned with the common theme of getting the best for the children. Pip emphasised the similarity.

"Oh, like me then, only I am doing my scholarship this year. Two more terms and I am off. But why did they keep you in Hong Kong until you were eleven, but send Peter here when he was eight?"

Sacha pointed at the fading purple around his eye and then rolled up his sleeve and pointed at a bruise on his arm normally hidden under his shirt.

"Who do you think gave me these?"

Pip was taken aback; he didn't have any brothers and so he had no one to fight with at home, only older sisters who teased him, which was worse in his eyes.

"Peter? He hasn't done anything like that here, well not recently, although he does have a bit of a temper sometimes."

Sacha gently touched the bruise under his eye; he flinched as if it was still tender.

"We are always fighting, or so Mum and Dad say. That was the real reason I didn't come last term. I broke Peter's wrist last summer."

"Goodness!"

Sacha felt he should explain. "He was chasing me, I climbed up a tree, he came up after me, I kicked out and he fell. It was an accident really. It wasn't deliberate, but well, you can imagine the fuss."

Pip imagined cold scenes of Peter leaping on his brother out of the blue and beating him up in revenge for the broken arm. The truth was different to that. In Hong Kong the roles of the two brothers were often reversed. Peter was the quieter one, often subdued into humiliated silence by his younger brother's lightening fast uptake and his ease with others his own age. Hurt, Peter retreated into his own world, safe with drawing, painting and sport, the three areas where he outdistanced Sacha. Only when Sacha goaded him beyond humiliation did he react and then it was with blind, frightening violence. Painful for Sacha, terrifying for Peter who could not understand the anger within him nor his reasons for inflicting pain on the younger brother he loved most of the time despite the accident. Sacha put down his mug and wiped the cocoa from his face carefully with a paper napkin.

"I think it was because of our not getting on sometimes, occasionally fighting. It was decided we should be sent to separate schools, him to boarding school here and I was kept at St Christopher's in Honkers."

This was a half-truth. Sacha had been kept behind because his mother could not bear an empty house. There was also the fear that without their parents, the two brothers might fight even more than they did at home, disrupting both their lives. In the end it was decided that the rough and tumble of a British boarding school half a world away from what he considered home was not right for Sacha until he was a bit older. Sacha would stay in Hong Kong for now and go to England when he was a bit older. The incident, which resulted in Peter breaking his wrist, had delayed things for another term. This time both parents agreed that the dust needed to settle until Peter recovered his pride. So Sacha stayed behind for one extra term.

"Honkers?"

"Hong Kong."

Sacha was short on words again. He wanted to talk about something else. The black veil of homesickness was beginning to descend on him. Memories of Sundays at the club playing tennis, perhaps a visit to the cinema followed by a meal out at one of the innumerable Chinese restaurants the family frequented. Then later at home listening to the World Service snuggled up on the sofa or playing cards with his parents.

"What do you fight about?"

"Anything, that's the trouble. Anything sets it off. These..." Sacha indicated his still visible wounds, "these were over a game of football in the playground near where we live on the Peak."

Pip tried to imagine a fight over a game of football and failed. Immediately he was jealous. Sacha having other friends, perhaps they were close friends? The thought of Sacha having other friends disturbed Pip; he wanted to be Sacha's friend, Sacha's only friend.

"Football?"

"Oh, we always play football with friends when Peter is home, but Peter doesn't like losing, especially to me. I was in goal. I stopped a penalty and then threw the ball back at him and then he threw himself on top of me, throttling me and punched me in the face. It took two other boys to separate us. Mind you, I got him where it hurts."

Pip looked at Sacha for clues as to where 'it' was. Sacha blushed. He had wandered into an area where his social skills failed him and his natural inhibitions took over.

"Oh, you know – down there."

Sacha indicated downwards quickly, hoping to move on.

"Oh, you mean you got him in the nuts. No wonder he tried to kill you!"

Sacha blushed.

"Can't you say it? Nuts, balls?"

"Oh no, not really. I mean it's not supposed to be nice is it?" Sacha was awkward now. His deep-set eyes averted downwards, a blush rising on his cheeks. A blush of unexpected innocence and immaturity appeared.

"You're kidding me!" Pip looked over at Sacha. He clearly wasn't kidding. The blushes on his companion deepened. Sacha was embarrassed into silence.

"Oh sorry. Really it doesn't matter."

Pip tried to ease his companion's embarrassment. The boy clearly had been brought up not to say anything dirty, not that that seemed to stop Peter from joining many of the older boys in muttering the occasional 'fuck' out of hearing of the teachers.

"Oh don't worry about it. I am not going to tell."

Sensing his companion's embarrassment, Pip decided it was time to pay and went up to the counter and put two shillings down. He put tuppence on the table as they were leaving. Pip had been taught to tip.

The boys walked back to school along the coast path, now judged to be clear of boys in the rapidly dimming light. Sacha was silent to start with. His embarrassment had risen and now, like a storm, it began to subside as they closed on the school. Pip detoured to Parson's Leap. He almost always did.

"It's nice down here in the summer, all sorts of small beaches, but we mainly use Chapel Cove. The school has that to itself. I think we must be about the only school in the country with its own private beach."

"Can't anyone use it?"

"No, the coast path passes a bit inland here. To get to the beach you have to go through that gate by the chapel ruin. That's on school land. The previous owner built his own steps down the cliff there and so only we can use it. The public use the other beach closer to St Ives, Wicca Cove. It's not nearly as nice as it faces north east and has no sand just pebbles." The boys stood close together in companionship and looked out to sea. "Down over there you can dive straight into the water. It is quite a drop."

They had gone through the gate by the dovecote and detoured to the end of the small headland in front of the school. Sacha went right up to the edge, knelt down and looked over the edge. The wind, incessant at this time of year, swept his fringe this way and that.

"Why can't you dive here, at this spot?"

Sacha had to shout in Pip's ear; he reached up to do so, holding Pip's shoulder as he did so.

"You're not serious! We are practically in orbit we are so high up. This is far too high and you would have to go some way out, as there are rocks below. Definitely not allowed. Don't worry. I am sure we will get the chance to dive from the rocks by Chapel Cove in the summer."

"I am not sure. I am not a very good swimmer."

"Oh, don't worry. Mr Wallace will not let you swim in the sea in a hurry unless he is sure you won't drown."

"Oh, I can swim. I am just not very fast that's all."

An early childhood incident when he had got into difficulties in a hotel swimming pool meant that Sacha was still nervous of water, something Peter used against him on occasions. Pip and Sacha returned through the gate leading back up to school. The Sunday was nearly over. Tea, evening prayers and then free time in their dormitories beckoned. Sacha would have to go his own way now.

As the boys parted, Sacha turned to Pip.

"Thanks, we must do that again sometime. I mean I owe you for the cocoa."

"Oh, that was nothing, but yes, I know a number of places to go, even at this time of year. Wait until the summer term, though. Then we can go to the beach."

"Won't the water be cold?"

"A bit, but you soon get used to it. We swim in the sea from Easter up until the end of October sometimes."

"Swimming in cold water, I am not looking forward to that bit at all."

*****

Chapter 6 - Lent Term 1968

The Rocks hummed with activity as the school settled into the new term. Increasingly Pip found himself seeking out Sacha at every opportunity. However, the boys were tightly controlled so that the only real encounters between Pip and Sacha took place during afternoon games when they played rugger together in the First Game. At other times, apart from the occasional chance encounter, they had to go their separate way as they were in different forms.

That afternoon Pip walked down to the pitch with Owen, his eyes scanning the many boys clad in their games kit.

"What position have you been put in today?"

"Oh, hooker."

Pip sensed there was purpose in that position. Owen was slow, but then he was not much use anywhere else on the pitch.

"Oh, you are there to block the opposition, stand in the way, that sort of thing."

"Mr Durrant doesn't like 'standing around', though does he? He starts to shout a lot."

Pip was glad he was in the scrum. As a forward, it meant he could go after Sacha. It became a private game between them, just the two of them if they played opposite each other, one chasing the other, cat and mouse.

Despite his smaller size Sacha was a hard tackler and could bring almost anyone down with one of his fearless dives. He delighted in picking Pip out and frequently brought Pip down, something Pip was less successful in reciprocating. Once on the pitch, the boys stood around in small knots. Pip remained with Owen. So Clancy walked over to join them. Sacha stood with the opposition in his oversized shirt, untucked as always, whilst Mr Durrant consulted his list of names and realised that two boys were missing.

"They're both off sick, sir, this morning."

"Oh well, let me see."

Mr Durrant looked at the two teams and decided to rebalance them.

"Morgan Junior, shift over to the home team and play number 8."

Sacha swapped his shirts, putting his harlequin shirt on top and jogged over to Pip's team. Pip much preferred to have Sacha playing with him than against him. However, any further thoughts were brought to a close when the whistle blew.

The two opposing teams positioned themselves opposite each other. The whistle blew a second time and the game began in earnest. In the January mud the boys raced or jogged across the pitch for the most part following the ball. Running up and down, occasionally kicking the ball back into play, Mr Durrant controlled the two teams with short blasts on his whistle and a stream of encouragements, sarcasm and outright frustration.

"Come on, boys, run, run."

"Owen, you are a forward, not a tombstone."

"Where was that meant to go, Pierce?"

With this encouragement the boys obediently picked up the pace until Jonathan snatched up the ball for the opposition five yards from their goal. Pip found himself facing the smaller boy and knew he would have to tackle him. Jonathan feinted right, but Pip read the move, did not turn to follow and then had Jonathan in his reach. Pip timed his tackle well, grasping Jonathan around the waist head-on with enough force to bring him down. Both boys crashed to the ground. The ball was under Jonathan who desperately trying to wriggle out from under Pip, but Pip held on.

"Okay, okay, you win."

The whistle blew and the two boys got up, Pip trying to brush off the mud, Jonathan not bothering.

"Scrum."

Mr Durrant stood to the side as Jonathan took the ball in readiness to restart. He rolled up his sleeves and looked intently into the middle where he was supposed to place the ball, central, but in a spot where Peter could reach it. Pip went down as lock in the scrum opposite Clancy, Owen his hooker. Sacha joined the scrum, his hand was firmly encircling Pip's upper thigh. The ball came in and skidded through to Owen who hoofed it back to Sacha. Sacha broke from the scrum and ran forward with it before anyone else could react, diving over the line. The whistle blew. As he fell on the ball, Sacha's shirt rode up, the pale yellow waistband of his underwear appeared above his shorts. Sacha stood up and his shirt dropped down. Underwear was not supposed to be worn. Pip wondered if Sacha knew the rule.

"Try! Well done, Morgan."

Mr Wallace had not noticed the forbidden underwear. Sacha smiled under the dirt on his face. Three years of playing rugby sevens at school in Hong Kong had shown its worth.

The game restarted. Another run and Sacha, running with the ball, found himself up against his brother Peter. The tackle was much harder than normal. Peter sent Sacha crashing down.

"Got you."

Peter picked himself up as Sacha stayed down, winded. He looked up angrily at Peter. "Thanks a lot."

Sacha gingerly pushed himself up on to all fours before standing up slowly, brushing the mud off his sleeves and starting to return to his side. Mr Durrant, however, had other ideas.

"Boy! Your boot lace is undone."

Sacha looked down as Mr Durrant directed him off the pitch.

"But sir, I can fix it in a jiffy."

"Do what I say and don't talk back or else you'll be off the pitch for the rest of the game."

Sacha glared briefly. Mr Durrant looked at him sternly and decided he needed to talk to the impudent Fifth Former.

"Come here, little boy."

He knew Sacha's name perfectly well, but it was time to cut the boy down to size. Sacha bristled at the description 'little'. Despite himself Sacha turned and stood facing Mr Durrant, pulling his shirt up to wipe his face, legs braced two feet apart, the offending yellow waistband now clearly on show. Mr Durrant put on his stern voice as all the boys on the field watched with amusement.

"When a referee tells you to do something on the pitch, you do it without question. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your lace is undone and that is a hazard to you and the other players. So you have to go off and get yourself sorted. Is that completely understood, boy?"

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

"And no underwear in future."

"Sir?"

"That is the rule, no underwear under your games kit. Understood?" Sacha nodded. He had the good sense not to answer back a second time. "Yes sir."

"Good, well get on with it. You can come back on as soon as your laces are properly tied."

Sacha turned smartly and without looking back trotted off the pitch as ordered. Satisfied, Mr Durrant turned back to the game and took control again. Meanwhile Sacha knelt down on the touchline to tie his bootlace. Once tied securely he stood up and waited obediently, right hand in the air, chewing his collar, signalling he was now ready, chastened by his earlier telling off. Mr Durrant now satisfied that Sacha had learnt his lesson signalled to him.

"Okay, Morgan, pull up your socks and then back on."

The game continued with two tries from Kit and one from Peter. Pip's team were running well behind with just Sacha's try on the score sheet. In the second half Mr Durrant changed the teams around and swapped Jonathan over for Owen. Jonathan immediately rebalanced the odds. He was fast and nimble. Pip was now captain. His team pushed forward racing after the ball when he kicked it on. For the opposition Clancy stumbled, allowing Jonathan to run onto the ball. Both teams made for the spot in a mass of legs and bodies. Mr Durrant waited a second and then decided enough was enough and blew for another scrum. Pip locked heads and felt Sacha lean hard into his thigh and grab his waist from underneath. The whistle blew and the scrum threatened to collapse until Pip felt the ball bounce in his direction and he heeled it back out for Sacha in turn to heel it out to Jonathan before breaking free himself.

"Run with it."

Jonathan needed no encouragement. He ran to the right around the scrum as the opposition wing ran onto him. At the last minute he passed the ball back to Sacha who ran right again before turning back and passing to Jonathan again. The opposition wing was now flat-footed and off to his left whilst Jonathan ran though the middle and landed the ball under the posts. The whistle blew.

"Try."

As the best kicker on his side, Jonathan converted his own ball and the game restarted. Peter, captain of the opposition, was determined that his brother was not going to get through again. However, Jonathan and Sacha proved hard to catch. Only Peter or the Johnson twins had the pace and turn to catch the wily Fifth Formers on a regular basis. Peter seemed to make a practice of catching his younger brother, ignoring Jonathan, which led to a final scrum. Jonathan put the ball in and ran around the scrum as Pip heeled it out to him.

"Go, go."

Jonathan ran forward and just as Robbie Johnson approached to tackle, he passed out to Sacha on the wing who ran forward and wove around Kit to score the final try just as the whistle blew. A draw nine points a piece.

All the boys were happy apart from Peter who stormed off ahead of everyone else. Pip walked up to school with Sacha. For being cheeky, Jonathan had been tasked with recovering all the balls littered around the pitch. Sacha was covered in mud. Matron was likely to order him to take his togs off outside the dorm block when she saw him as she almost always did with Jonathan.

"Pip, what are you doing Sunday afternoon?"

"Nothing planned as yet? Any thoughts?"

"Perhaps we could go somewhere?"

Pip was secretly pleased. The idea of going out that weekend with Sacha was a very attractive one. Pip darted his eyes around to make sure that no one was paying any attention.

"We can, but we had better be careful. You know it's not considered 'normal' to mix with boys outside of your own year."

"Why's that?"

"It's a prep school thing. They don't think it is healthy for older and younger boys to mix too much, especially away from supervision. You know a 'bad influence' and that sort of thing."

Sacha thought about it. He looked disappointed. "You mean we can't go out together?"

Pip stopped himself. "No, wait, I didn't mean that. Of course we can go somewhere. We just have to be discreet. You go out with some other Fifth Formers promptly at two o'clock. I will come out just afterwards. Make an excuse; something like you have left your money behind and then we can meet, on the Coffin Path, the way we went last time, under the two big trees, just the other side of the first stone stile."

"Oh, okay. Two-ish?"

"Just after two, not two-ish."

Matron stood guard at the senior block entrance.

"Sacha get your things off here, boots, socks and top. You are absolutely covered in mud. Leave them with me down here."

Sacha did as he was told and ascended the stairs barefoot in just his shorts. At the second floor the boys went their separate ways, Sacha pleased that he had arranged his weekend with Pip. Come Sunday lunchtime, Pip made a deal with Owen.

"Can you cover for me this afternoon?"

"Cover? How?"

Owen was on guard. He didn't want trouble, but he knew he was loyally bound to do pretty much anything Pip asked.

"Sign out with me this afternoon and then go off with Clancy, will you?"

"Okay then, I suppose."

Owen duly signed out with Pip and Clancy. Covering for Pip was not unusual for Owen. He supposed it was so Pip could go off with Jonathan. Owen had heard the stories emanating from Peter and the twins from last term. Owen had heard that Jonathan was supposed to get up to all sorts according to the rumours circulating.

Owen, as good as his word, went on ahead with Clancy who was already planning a productive afternoon in St Ives. There was a book Clancy wanted in the second hand bookshop, but he was happy to accept company. Pip rushed off to his agreed rendezvous with Sacha in eager anticipation. He wanted to spend time as much times as possible with him. To be with him was of the upmost importance to him in a way he could not really explain even to himself. Sacha was already waiting. He had left Jonathan and some other boys on the pretext of breaking a lace. Sacha doubled back, ran back up the path beside the school wall, until he picked up the Coffin Path and headed towards the first stile where he had agreed to wait for Pip. Pip was very relieved when Sacha came into view.

"Come on, we've got a bus to catch. I thought we'd go to Sennen. The waves are really big there at this time of year."

"Oh, I thought St Ives or Penzance."

"That's where everyone else goes. Sennen is quieter. Much less likely to bump into anyone."

"Hmm."

Sacha realised that 'alone' was almost certainly not something that would win approval at school. Without knowing why, Sacha sensed that there was good reason why the boys were discouraged from too much unsupervised intermingling between year groups, but he realised that he now had little choice as the other boys had long gone. The two boys walked up the farm track to the next stile on the main road. In the distance a bus marked 'Lands End' was coming up the hill.

"Well, shall we go to Sennen?" Pip asked one final time.

Sacha weighed it up in his mind. "Okay, then."

Sacha followed Pip onto the bus to the back seat where they sat together in the corner.

"It's a grand place, Sennen. You should see it in summer, crawling with visitors, but there won't be many now."

The bus went along the wild north coast to Sennen via Zennor and St Just. A cold wind was blowing enormous waves on the sea.

"The bus doesn't go all the way down at this time of year. We have to walk from the turn."

Sacha looked at the blustery weather outside and shrank into his duffel coat.

"I hope it's not going to rain."

"No, we will be fine. It rained this morning. It's clear to the West. That is where our weather comes from mostly."

After about three-quarters of an hour the boys reached the Sennen Turn. Pip and Sacha got off and walked down the hill to the village of Sennen. It was a suitably bleak grey January day. The wind was whipping the sea up into giant mountains of spray and froth on the rocks below the promenade.

"Not many people about. Are you sure there is something here?"

"Oh yes, there is always the 'Old Success', that's a pub, so we can't go in there of course and then there's a café towards the lifeboat station."

After a short walk along the front they found that the café was indeed open and, glad of the opportunity for some warmth, they went inside. Sacha went up to the counter; he looked at the menu and turned to Pip.

"Cocoa?"

"Oh, yes please."

The two boys spent the next half hour lingering over their cocoas and a shared pack of biscuits. Apart from some walkers, there were not many people about.

"Just wait until summer."

"You keep saying that."

"Well it's true. Anyway, let's explore. All sorts of things blow up on the beach at this time of year."

Outside again Sacha wrapped himself up against the cold and wet and kept to the lee side of Pip to keep warm. As much as physical warmth was important, Sacha enjoyed some of the older boy's wilder stories mostly relating to Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince.

"Your brother asked Mrs Prince whether she was Mr Barnes' girlfriend last year."

"What did she say?"

"She just roared with laughter. 'Mr Barnes is a confirmed bachelor. That's why we ladies like him so much'. Not sure what she meant though."

Sacha thought about it for a moment.

"No, I've no idea either, no idea at all. What was so funny, I wonder?"

They had walked to the end of the beach. As the light closed in, they began walking back towards Sennen taking the long route back up to the top. As they walked, a gust of wind blew some sand into the air. The boys instinctively ducked but it was too late.

"Ow!"

Sacha fidgeted with his eyes. Pip looked on. He knew what the problem was; he had some grit in his own eyes too.

"Not like that. Here, let's shelter behind this shack."

Eyes wincing with the grit, the boys sought shelter behind a closed beach stall out of sight of anyone.

"This will do." They sat down close together. Sacha was trying to rub the sand out of his eye. Pip stopped him, pulling the boy's hands down, holding them firmly. "No!" Blinking, Sacha did not resist. "Not like that. Here, let me try. You can't see what you are doing."

Pip took his gloves off, sat besides Sacha, gently opened his left eye with his left hand and spied two pieces of grit.

"Keep still and try not to blink."

Using the tip of his wetted forefinger Pip carefully brushed out the grit. He did the same to Sacha's right eye, even though there was no grit visible. Without thinking, Pip gently stroked away the tears caused by the grit as they ran down Sacha's cheek.

"How's that?"

"Oh that's better. Here, are your eyes okay?"

Sacha leaned close, still blinking at the saltiness in his eyes as he looked into Pip's bloodshot eyes.

"No, there is some grit in mine as well. Want to try?"

Sacha did not seem to need much invitation. As Pip was sitting with his legs straight out, Sacha turned and straddled them. He knelt down and sat on Pip's knees as he leant in closer and gently prised Pip's eyes open each in turn and coaxed out the remaining grit. Satisfied, Sacha leant back, his hands behind him on the ground. Pip could feel the warmth of Sacha on his knees.

"How's that?"

"Great, thanks. I think you've got most of it, but there is still a bit left."

"Wait, let me just check again."

Pip obliged the younger boy and let him probe once more. His left arm around Sacha's back, pulling him a bit closer. Sacha acquiesced.

"I think I might still have some in mine. It still stings."

"Okay, let me look."

Pip looked around. There was no one in sight. They were entirely alone. Their actions explainable if asked. Pip took his chance. He wanted so much to be closer to Sacha.

"Here scoot up on my thighs. I need to be able to really see into the eyelids."

Both boys knew it was an unnecessary step, but Sacha obediently complied. He put his arms on Pip's shoulders and sat right up on the top of Pip's thighs, his arms around Pip's neck, his thighs straddling Pip's. Pip knew it would be so easy just to lean forward wrap his arms around the boy and kiss him on his lips, cracked in the cold salty air. The boy's eyes were wide open and inquisitive, inviting, but Pip resisted the temptation. Instead Pip concentrated hard as he opened each of Sacha's eyelids in turn and gently stroked out a couple more grains of sand that he had missed first time around. The boys remained interlocked for a second or two. Then Pip smiled and leant back, sliding his hands down Sacha's arms. Sacha seemed happy. Satisfied, Pip briefly placed his hands on top of Sacha's.

"There. All gone, I think."

He hoped that Sacha would see nothing more than companionship in their near embrace. Sacha looked around briefly. There was no one in sight. The younger boy remained sitting on Pip's knees leaning back, not wanting to climb off. It felt good this companionship, this warmth. He felt like leaning in, a closeness, something he badly missed from home. A frown crossed his face at the thought and then a smile. Make the best of it.

"I like it here. We should come again."

Pip brushed a couple of grains of sand off Sacha's face, soft, warm, the track of tears still visible. Perhaps Sacha wanted to play this game again? Was that really what Sacha meant or had he just chosen a phrase at random? Although Pip wanted this moment to last for a long, long, time, he was conscious of the possibility of other people seeing them if they remained.

"Come on, we can't stay like this. We had better get going. The lights fading."

Sacha climbed off, his warmth lingering in Pip's mind long after the younger boy resumed his position to Pip's lee side. Together they walked up to the top of the hill, to the main road to wait for the bus. Pip took Sacha on the short cut, up through the sand dunes. Halfway and they were cut off from view amongst the hardy dune grass. They were no longer on the path and unseen to Pip, a rabbit hole caught his right foot and down he went taking Sacha with him.

"Oh sorry, I tripped."

Together they lay, semi-entangled in the sand. They stayed still, both looked in each other's eyes and then laughed before Pip put his finger to Sacha's lips.

"Keep quiet. No one knows we are here, do they?"

"No, why?"

Pip raised himself up and then looked around. They were completely hidden by the long dune grass. There was no one else visible for some distance. Pip took his chance, leant down and brushed Sacha's cheek gently again as if to remove some sand. Sacha put his hand up and felt his cheek. Perhaps something was there? He could not feel anything. Sacha felt compelled to ask "Why did you do that?"

"Oh, nothing, it was just some sand that's all."

Pip risked his all. He stroked Sacha's cheek again and then he ran his hand up and gently brushed some stray hair out of Sacha's eyes.

"All gone."

Sacha put his hand up to check. He could feel no sand now.

"Thanks."

Sacha was content with this attention. Pip took his chance and rested his hand on Sacha's shoulder and looked directly into Sacha's eyes through his fringe.

"What are you looking for now?"

Sacha was genuinely puzzled. Suddenly he was slightly uneasy about being alone with Pip, away from all the other people. Pip jolted out if his reverie. He had better do something rather than just stare at the younger boy. If he didn't move now, he might do something he would regret; Sacha was so close.

"Oh sorry. Nothing, nothing at all. Here let's get going."

Pip stood up and then helped pull Sacha up. Sacha eagerly took his hand and held on to it for longer than strictly necessary. He looked at Pip at once slightly puzzled, but re-assured as they stood hand in hand. Then Sacha, reluctantly it seemed, pulled clear. The moment was over all too quickly. Pip's heart was in his mouth. Had he let his hand linger too long? Had he frightened Sacha? Pip was very annoyed with himself for acting so impulsively. There was a slightly awkward silence only to be broken when Pip saw the elderly bus wheeze around the corner from Land's End.

"Come on, the bus is here now."

The two boys raced the remaining hundred yards to the bus stop. On the bus Sacha was content to be squashed into the corner seat at the back by Pip. They sat jammed together, their duffel coats piled into the seat next to them. Sacha felt comfortable with Pip. With no one else from school around, Sacha allowed Pip to put his arm around his back in companionship.

*****

Chapter 7 - Lent Term 1968

Thursday teatime. The senior boys were sitting in the dining hall. Kit had a question. "Where did you go last Sunday?"

"Oh, out, you know." Pip was not keen to advertise his afternoon out with Sacha.

"Peter saw you."

"Oh really? Not much to see."

"He saw you heading off with his younger brother. He was a bit cross. He had planned to take Sacha out himself, I think."

"Oh well, he didn't tell Sacha. I mean I am sure Sacha would have gone with him if he had."

Pip was not keen for this conversation to continue. "Sacha wanted to see Sennen and it's quite a way. I should have checked the bus times before agreeing. Can you pass the jam?"

Whilst the other boys were busy buttering slices of bread, Pip sneaked a look over to two tables down. Peter was sitting at the end of the Fifth Form table, taking charge, as Mrs Prince was absent. He was in deep conversation with Sacha. The brothers were sharing some secret. Sacha was smiling, not something he normally did when Peter was around. Suddenly the doors to the kitchen were swung open. Instinctively the boys all turned round to look to see what the commotion was. Cook and Mrs Porter appeared with two cakes covered in candles. Two cakes. That was unusual. Mrs Porter led the way towards the senior end of the hall. She stopped at the table that Peter was in charge of.

"Peter, Sacha, stand up. I think we have something to celebrate, don't we?"

Embarrassed Peter stood up, conscious all eyes were on him. Sacha looked confused until Peter used his hand to haul him up. A silence descended on the hall.

"How many of the boys know you both share the same birthday?"

"Not many, Miss."

"Well, congratulations the pair of you, particularly you, Peter. You are now officially a teenager and Sacha, of course, you're now 12."

The brothers fidgeted whilst the candles were lit. Peter had his hand on Sacha's shoulder.

"Make a wish each and then you can both blow out the candles on your cakes."

There was a moment's silence and then Peter and Sacha blew out their respective candles. Everyone sang _Happy Birthday_ before returning to eating whilst Peter and Sacha came round with cakes for their classmates. As Sacha passed with his now empty plate, Pip managed to attract his attention.

"Well, you are full of surprises."

"I didn't think anyone would know."

"Oh, don't worry. Everyone's birthday is on a list. It's in the kitchen. There is cake every time."

"So when is yours?"

"Oh, I don't have it at school. Mine is always during the summer holidays."

Bleakly Pip realised that chances were, he would never give Sacha any of his birthday cake. He would have left The Rocks by the time of his thirteenth birthday.

After prep Pip decided to visit his old dorm, 5W. The door was slightly ajar as he entered. He could hear the sound of excited voices and the ripping of wrapping paper. 5W was a much larger dormitory than his, ten boys in five sets of bunks. Like all the other dormitories, the bunks had been placed against the walls to create an open space in the middle by the main window.

Sacha was the centre of attention, kneeling on the rug in front of the fireplace, with a bin full of wrapping paper at his side and some presents in front of him. The boy was dressed in a pair of distinctive all-black Chinese pyjamas that buttoned up to his neck with little toggles. Pip hesitated to enter. 5W was Jonathan's dormitory. The two boys were still avoiding each other as much as possible. Not by choice, but fear, fear of what might happen if they were seen to be friendly again. However, there were ten boys in the dorm and only one was Jonathan. So surely no harm would come to it? Jonathan helped him.

"Come in, Pip. Only Mr Barnes is around at the moment. Mr Durrant is away at the moment. His car is not in school."

As Pip entered, Jonathan was sitting on a top bunk half in and half out of his pyjamas. All the other boys who were interested were grouped around Sacha, looking at his presents. In truth they were not very exciting, a new tee shirt that looked too large for him, some books that he had probably read already and one small parcel to open from his parents. Sacha looked up as Pip stood on the fringe.

"Just in time. This is the final one."

"Give it a shake, Sacha," was the less than helpful advice from Jonathan. Sacha was more cautious than that. Instead he carefully teased open the paper. Inside was a plain box that opened to reveal a watch.

"Oh great, they did listen for once."

The watch was clearly what Sacha had wanted. He was not wearing a watch unlike most of the older boys at the school.

"Put it on."

"Let's see."

"Hang on. I've got to read the instructions."

Sacha sat cross-legged on the lower bunk under Jonathan and began to study the instructions. He patted the space next to him. "Here Pip, you can sit at the end."

The other boys wandered off, nothing more to see. Carefully Sacha read the instructions, puzzled out how to set the day and date, adjusted the strap and then put it on before letting anyone see it.

"Good, now I've got no excuses for being late."

"Let me look."

Sacha proffered his arm and let Pip hold it whilst he examined the watch conscious that Sacha was letting him hold his hand and wrist without trying to pull away as most boys probably would have by now. Suddenly Peter and the Johnson twins arrived in the dorm.

"Like your presents then, Sacha?"

"Oh yes, thanks for the Sherlock Holmes book."

"Oh, I have something else for you as well."

"Oh? What?"

"This."

Suddenly the Johnson twins grabbed Sacha, each taking him by an arm, catching him by surprise.

"You're coming with us."

"Wait, where?"

"Oh you'll see soon enough."

"Hey! Leave off!"

"No, you're coming with us. Now."

The other boys gathered around, sensing something amusing was about to happen. Having your birthday during term time was sometimes a mixed blessing. Sacha found himself being dragged off to the bathroom to be 'initiated'. These initiations were never planned as such, but sooner or later, a new boy who joined the school would find himself being publicly humiliated by some of his new 'friends'. Pip followed the mob into the Fifth Form bathroom. Sacha found himself being led towards the showers, both his arms held firmly by the twins.

"Let me go." Sacha struggled fiercely, kicking out.

"No chance. The more you struggle, the longer you stay under the shower. Understood?"

"I said let go of me."

Sacha's voice rose in anger, his nostrils flared and his eyes glared. He tried to kick out again, striking Kit hard on his shin, hard enough to make him wince. Pip came up behind with Jonathan. Not part of the plot, but to see what was normally an amusing scene. Sacha, held firmly by the twins, watched in stony silence as Peter turned on the cold tap to the big communal shower the Fifth Form used. As the water began to run, Pip could see Sacha frantically trying to free one hand from Robbie.

"My watch, my watch!"

On the hand he was trying to free was indeed his pride and joy, the new watch. There was a moment's pause, no one spoke or volunteered fearing the wrath of Peter before Pip stepped over to Sacha.

"Here, I will take it. Just quit wriggling for a moment."

The unwritten code of The Rocks prevented him from helping Sacha escape, but he could at least help by taking the watch. From his vantage point Pip could see a sadness as well as anger in his friend's eyes, a sense of betrayal.

"It's all right. I'll take care of it for you."

Sacha relaxed. Robbie let go of Sacha's right arm. A temporary truce as he held his hand out and Pip undid the watchstrap, took it off and slipped it into his pocket. Truce over, Kit and Robbie, egged on by Peter, propelled Sacha into the shower still in his pyjamas.

"Ow!" Sacha let out a howl of anguish as the cold water soaked him before having the sense to stand at the back, bedraggled, but out of the way of most of the water. Sacha wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes half-hidden by his wet hair, eyes bright, tears visible.

"Rotters."

Normally these cold showers were pretty tame affairs with the victim out almost before he went in, but in this case Peter blocked the exit. "Two minutes."

"Peter, that's not fair."

Sacha wasn't prepared to wait. Suddenly he charged his brother and broke free spraying a lot of water over the floor in the process.

"Out of my way." Peter went flying to the floor. The other boys scattered, anxious to avoid getting wet. Just then an angry Mr Barnes appeared, annoyed that his cigarette break was being disturbed.

"Boys, stop this nonsense immediately!"

There was a silence. All the boys stood around sheepishly, Sacha shivering in his soaking wet pyjamas. Mr Barnes very quickly guessed what was going on.

"Morgan and you two." Mr Barnes indicated Peter and the Johnson twins. He knew exactly who the likely culprits were. "Clear that mess up immediately. Sacha, go and get dried up. You had better go and get some dry pyjamas from Matron."

Mr Barnes turned to Peter Morgan, who was looking for a mop in a show of guilt.

"You should know better, Peter. You are Head Boy, may I remind you. You are supposed to set an example, a good example, not this."

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

"Well clear up all this mess. I don't want any complaints from Matron in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

Sacha sat down on the bench removed his pyjama shirt and dried himself with a hand towel, hiding his face, sniffing. The boy was shivering. His pyjama bottoms were soaked. Pip went over to him and waited silently until Sacha slowly revealed his face, hair spiked, eyes red and puffy. Pip reached into his pocket and produced the watch.

"Here. Your watch is safe and dry at least."

Sacha looked at him, his expression downcast, his words for Pip only. "Whatever did Peter do that for?"

"Oh, an initiation happens to every new boy. It's a tradition."

"He's a complete rotter."

"I know. Come on, you'll get over it."

"Humph!"

Sacha dried himself as much as he could and left the bathroom heading towards his dorm, putting on his watch, with Pip in tow. Matron was coming up the stairs with a pile of towels. She looked at Sacha's bedraggled state.

"Looks like someone has been giving you a shower, Sacha. You had better get those things off. I don't want you going down with a chill."

"What now, Miss?"

"Yes, right this minute. I'll get you a spare pair in a minute. Go on. Into your dorm with you."

"Yes, miss."

Sacha's lisp was very pronounced. He was angry at his brother's betrayal, but mostly he was tired of the school and its silly rituals. Pip went to follow Sacha, but Matron had other ideas. "That's enough for tonight. All of you to your dormitories right now. Now run along. We have had quite enough excitement for today."

Thwarted, Pip went upstairs to his own dorm as ordered.

At breakfast Clancy was opening a parcel from home. It was one of his regular orders for books. Clancy had long lost interest in the school's library. His reading was a bit more refined than most boys his age. It was another book on ancient history, the Greeks this time.

"They seem to be very popular with the others. I still haven't received my last book back from the Johnson twins despite regular requests."

"Well, you know why that is? It makes a change to _Mayfair_."

"I didn't think it was for cultural reasons naturally. That is why I always have a few books with photographs. It keeps the less cultured amused."

The next day it started raining so hard that the whole school had to be confined inside as all the games kit was still drying out from the day before. At lunch Mr Durrant took charge.

"In view of the weather I am afraid we are confined to barracks. So no outdoor games this afternoon." There was a mixture of cheers and boos at this announcement. "For the younger boys, it's games inside your classrooms with Mr Barnes and me, but for the older boys I think a few rounds of British Bulldog in the gym might tire you out sufficiently. Mr Wallace, will you take charge?"

British Bulldog was a violent game of territory played in boys' schools. The 'game' consisted of all the boys bar two starting at one end of the gym and when the whistle was blown trying to get to the other end without being captured by the two guards in the middle. Each boy captured became a guard and the game continued until all the boys had been captured. The last two boys to be captured being the winners who then formed the first two guards for the next round.

That afternoon there were a few scores to be settled and a renewal of the on-off conflict between the Pirates and the other older boys. Pip was looking forward to it. As they entered the changing rooms, he nodded to Jonathan. Jonathan nodded back grinning broadly; he was clearly in for some fun. The Johnson twins grabbed the favoured corner of the changing room away from the door.

"Peter, over here." The battle lines were being drawn. "Time to get Pierce and Cox, I think."

Underneath the straightforward game of 'It' was a decidedly more subtle game of collusion, sacrifice and duplicity. Allies helped their leaders to win by becoming guards at the beginning of the game.

Mr Wallace was in charge. He knew the rules and also knew what was likely to happen.

"Come on, hurry up and change boys."

He looked around to see which groupings were occurring. It was likely to be the two usual sides trying to score points off each other. The other boys would remain uncommitted changing sides with every game. By now there were about thirty boys crammed into the narrow side stall area of the barn used as the changing room. Pip took up position at the far end. He felt more comfortable in the corner with Owen guarding him with his bulk.

"Clancy, come over here." Pip was going to make a determined attempt to make himself one of the gang leaders. Sacha arrived last. He had had to run back upstairs to fetch his kit. At first he tried to go where Peter was in the opposite corner, but the Johnson twins would not allow a Fifth Form interloper in. So instead Sacha had to retreat to the space next to Jonathan opposite the door, the least favoured spot.

"You can squeeze in here." Jonathan, ever generous, removed his puddle of clothing and made space for his friend.

"Thanks."

Sacha looked around and saw Pip who was in a corner with Clancy and Owen. In the main changing room he was normally well away from Pip, but here he was no more than a few feet. Pip was working on a plan with Clancy and Owen. The key to the Pirates' success would be to bring Jonathan and hopefully Sacha over early on. Both might be small, but their speed and nimbleness, already used to good effect on the rugby pitch, were a set of skills useful in British Bulldog.

By now Pip had almost completely changed, but he took time over his gym shoes, carefully rethreading his laces. Jonathan was already undressed, but he had yet taken time to dig his kit out, concentrating instead on egging Peter and the Johnson twins on as he stood on the bench in his underwear.

"So, Morgan, you think you're going to catch me, do you?"

"All in good time, Pierce."

"No chance you two are going to, either."

That was probably a challenge too far. The Johnson twins were probably best equipped for this game compared to anyone else in the school this year. The noise in the changing room increased to a deafening level as various challenges and taunts were called out.

"Let's see you try, Pierce."

Was Jonathan going to take on the Sixth Formers as a group of Fifth Formers, which would be a famous victory unprecedented in the school's history, or would he team with Pip and the Pirates? A three way fight with the Sixth Form divided would play into Jonathan's hands if it occurred, but Pip had no intention of teaming with Peter and the Johnson twins. The exchanged glance as they entered the gym had confirmed to Jonathan that this was going to be a fight between Peter Morgan with the Johnson twins and the Pirates. Oblivious that his loyalties might be called upon, Sacha was sitting down on the bench, still a bit unsure of what was about to happen as he had never played British Bulldog before. Sacha was quietly observing the other boys changing, hesitant to change in front of the Sixth Form boys. That Sacha was shy about changing did not surprise Pip. It was what he had expected from a boy new to the school. Quietly Sacha sat on the bench, removed his sandals and socks and then his jumper. The latter he only removed after looking around and making sure he was not being observed. Pip busied himself with his laces at this point, but looked up briefly so that he could see what was happening. Shorts removed and placed on the bench beside him, Sacha then swiftly pulled on his PE shorts, removed his shirt before finishing changing by putting on his PE vest.

Out in the gym the boys were congregating. By now, fed up with waiting for the other boys, Jonathan was right up near the roof beams in just his undersized PE shorts. At that moment Mr Wallace emerged from the equipment room changed.

"Pierce, come down this instant."

"Oh sorry, sir. I was just checking the gym."

"Pierce, you may be a closer relative to the average monkey than most boys here, but I don't need you to prove that just now. Get down and behave. Otherwise you will be getting changed and watching from the changing room. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry sir."

"Good. Now go and put on your PE vest."

Jonathan promptly clambered down with an impressive display of agility and speed and dropped to the floor from a height of over eight foot. He disappeared briefly before rejoining the rest of the boys, now gathering in the middle of the gym, now replete with his vest.

The gym was marked out for the game, which just consisted of a triple layer of gym-mats across the centre. The mats marked the central no-man's land on which the main part of the game would be played. The guards had to remain on the mats guarding their territory as the other boys tried to run or climb past without being caught.

With thirty odd excited 11-13 year old boys already milling around, chaos was threatening to descend. Whilst Mr Wallace was waiting for the laggards to emerge from the changing room, Pip approached him with Owen.

"Please, sir, can Owen and me go first? To be guards, I mean?"

"All right, but keep it gentle, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The first game was important. It set the tone as to who one's allies and enemies were for the rest of the afternoon for British Bulldog had a strong current of tribalism about it. Pip looked over to Jonathan. Jonathan smiled back. It was not a challenge; it was a tacit agreement to be an ally. There would be a price to pay; Jonathan would have to win one round, with Pip's help. As a team, the Pirates could probably take on Peter and the Johnson twins and might even win. The whistle blew and the gym was suddenly in silence.

"You know the rules. You have to get from one end of the gym to the other without being captured by the guards. Captured means lifted off the ground or brought to ground on these mats. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," a chorus of responses echoed from the boys.

Still comparatively new to the school, Sacha was not reading the split into gangs too well. Instead he was concentrating on tying the cord on his shorts. Once satisfied, he tentatively hovered around his brother Peter and his gang, all Sixth Formers. In the absence of other volunteers Pip and Owen got their turn.

"We had better go and stake our claim, Pip."

Owen was always Pip's ally in British Bulldog. The other boys knew that, just as the Johnson twins and Peter were always allies. A lot was at stake. The senior boys would be talking about it for the rest of the week, especially if a famous victory was won.

"Okay, let's go."

To many Owen was an odd choice of partner for Pip, but the observant few knew that Owen was faster than he looked and quite sly when it suited him. With Pip as the more obvious leader, fast and nimble, they made a good team, especially with the addition of Jonathan, who was his usual reckless risk taking self.

Apart from the Pirates, the big concern to Pip was who would Sacha ally with? Conventional wisdom in the school had it that brothers always sided with each other when the chips were down and Sacha was hovering on the edge of Peter's gang purely out of indecision. However, the fuss over Sacha's initiation in the shower earlier that week suggested that he might be persuaded to join the Pirates. Pip hoped Sacha might ally with him, a very public act of betrayal of his brother. That would create a team capable of winning along with Owen, Clancy and Jonathan since the other Fifth and Sixth Formers might well enjoy colluding with them to fix the downfall of the dominant Sixth Form clique this time around.

Owen, satisfied that Pip had as usual chosen him to be his sidekick, was already well on the way to guessing his strategy which would be to capture Jonathan. With Jonathan, there would be a war between two roughly equal gangs.

Mr Wallace gave a long blast on his whistle to signal silence and the start of proceedings that could go on as long as no one was injured and tempers did not flare too much. The thirty odd boys lined up at the far end of the gym. Mr Wallace stood on the central mat and issued the usual warnings.

"No punching, no kicking, hair pulling or any other violence will be tolerated. Any offenders will be sent out to change."

He looked at his watch and then made to a vantage point standing on the wall besides the entrance to the gym.

"Right: Cox and Owen, you two are first guards."

A shrill blast from the whistle signalled the start of the first round. Owen and Pip stood on the line of gym mats lined across the centre of the gym. Both boys had done this role a number of times before. The remaining boys lined up at the far end, many hanging from the wall bars and beams, several feet clear of the floor. One well-known tactic was to climb up to the top beams eight feet up and inch pass the guards on the floor below, but Pip was one of the few boys with enough height to be able to gain sufficient traction and pull any such escapees down.

Pip pointed at Clancy. "We'll take Jonathan first, not Clancy."

"Okay, let's do it."

Mr Wallace let the tension build for a few seconds as Clancy, their supposed victim looked for a route to avoid the two guards forlornly. His slowness was against him, but he hoped not to be the first boy to be captured. That would be humiliating. Clancy made it to the front of the gathering boys, but knew his route would be to go to the side and then hope to pass by whilst the first wave of boys was captured. Sacha was one third of the way along the back wall, a good position to avoid being cornered in, but he kept looking at Peter for signs of guidance. Peter ignored him, as he was pre-occupied with not being captured himself. Jonathan as always was again flaunting his climbing skills and was already well up the wall, however, close enough for Pip to reach him with Owen providing a leg up. It was well understood by the few, capture your allies first. Mr Wallace gave a sharp blast on his whistle.

"Okay, off we go. Round one."

Pandemonium broke out. The two guards feinted for Clancy and then Owen stood by the wall his hands cupped so that Pip could leap up and catch Jonathan around his waist as he attempted to climb past. Surprised, Jonathan fought back unsuccessfully, lost his grip and both boys fell onto the mat. Jonathan was well and truly caught.

"Got you!"

Seeing that Pip had caught his intended victim, Owen went and caught Clancy, who had tripped up over the mat in his attempt to escape.

"Time for you to join the team, Clangers."

Clancy stood up. Winded, Jonathan stayed on the floor, theatrically taking his time to come round.

"Bastard," he mouthed at Pip, a big grin across his face, and then he stood up, dusting himself off. He knew what the game was really about. Clancy understood that he had now chosen his allies for the rest of the afternoon and stood with Owen plotting tactics, giving misleading signals and pointing at the wrong person each time. Each time they did this, more boys would be come uneasy and group together into a small mob, easier to take on, as they would probably trip as they went over the mats together. Jonathan now stood with Pip, once more a key ally. The proper battle would begin as gangs rarely consisted of more than four or five boys on each side. The remaining boys were to be discarded as cannon fodder in each round.

At the start of the next dash Sacha had adopted the same position. One third of the way along the back wall close to his brother, from where he stood a good chance of getting through with the mad dash as other boys ran all around. Peter's plans did not include his younger brother; he was looking for a gang made exclusively of Sixth Formers. Many boys already guessed who the next target would be except for Sacha himself. He remained oblivious to the bigger stakes game being played around him. He had become the trophy to be fought over in each round. Sacha lined up opposite Clancy and Owen. Pip and Jonathan were the other side, seemingly concentrating their attentions on the Johnson twins. Suddenly sensing that his brother might be the next target, Peter moved over and stood close by Sacha, supposedly to protect him.

"Stick with me. I'll see you through."

Sacha was disconcerted by Peter's instruction; he was expecting betrayal from Peter since his initiation. Peter was the strongest boy in the school and might be able to drag Sacha through. His desire to do this was less to do with protecting his brother, but more to deny a useful foot soldier to Pip, the leader of the opposing gang. To make his point, Peter reached out and held his brother's upper arm firmly. Sacha, expecting betrayal, instinctively pulled away.

"No, I'm okay, no need for that."

The boy moved away to the other side as the whistle blew. Peter's face darkened in fury. His brother had refused his protection in front of all the other boys. Despite this public act of defiance, Peter moved to get closer to Sacha again, but at that moment Mr Wallace chose to blow the whistle to signal for the next run. All the boys dashed off, pell-mell, making for the other end as fast as they could.

"Watch out for Owen."

That was the last piece of advice from Peter to Sacha, his last chance to stick with his brother as they reached the other end. This time Sacha didn't take the advice. He moved to the dangerous middle area, away from his brother. Unwittingly Mr Wallace became a collaborator; he decided to blow his whistle for the next dash straightaway just as Clancy and Owen swapped sides with Pip and Jonathan. As the whistle blew, Sacha found himself caught in a pincer movement. As he ran to the side to avoid Owen, he found Pip in his path, clearly targeting him and not put off by other, easier, targets. Pip wrestled Sacha to the ground. He was light so easy to topple. So Pip fell deliberately to fall on top of the boy. Sacha struggled vigorously underneath before he admitted defeat and surrendered.

"I thought you were supposed to be my friend!"

"Oh, but we needed some good people on our side to start with. So I wanted you."

"All right then, you've proved your point. You can let me up now."

Sacha rose, flushed, hair messed up and his PE vest riding up under his armpits. He pulled the vest down and dusted himself off.

"Which side do you want me?"

"Come over here. Jonathan, Owen and Clancy; you three take the other side."

With Owen, Clancy and Jonathan taking one side, Sacha worked with Pip. Together they caught three in the next round and then gradually built up the numbers until it was just the Johnson twins and Peter left.

"You'll never catch us." Kit issued his challenge.

Peter was caught next and sulked at the side of the gym, making no attempt to capture either of the twins. After about two minutes of frantic shouting and rushing Kit was indeed declared winner of the first round with Robbie inevitably a very close second after being caught high up on the wall beams by Jonathan.

A further two rounds were fought as the tension and roughness increased in the gym, the second round ending with Jonathan victor with more than a little help from Pip and Clancy.

"Boys, keep it down, please. Otherwise it will be an early shower for all of you." Mr Wallace attempted to keep order, as he no more wanted the afternoon to end than the boys did themselves.

Being a fast runner, Pip was good at British Bulldog and so got close to winning on a number of occasions. Finally it was just Pip and Sacha left in. Peter had been the winner in the previous round and was looking miffed at his younger brother's success at this game. Sacha was very good at British Bulldog because of his ability to turn and change direction so fast that the slower moving boys all missed him.

"All right, I think we will know the winner shortly. Guards, take your positions." Mr Wallace blew his whistle.

Pip spotted a group of boys clustered near Owen. Owen was sufficiently treacherous to let Pip through. Sacha aimed for a knot of boys just off centre. He ran off to the side and then rocketed to the centre just out of their reach, a gap opening in the middle through which Pip rushed, the other boys impeded by Owen. Sacha was not so lucky. Peter got to him, using a rugby tackle. So both boys went down, sprawling hard onto the mat.

"Got you this time."

Peter knelt astride the still prone Sacha. Anger flashed in the younger boy's eyes. Sacha raised his arm as if to punch his brother. Peter grabbed the offending arm and also held Sacha's other wrist so Sacha was completely trapped.

"That's not very nice is it?"

Before anything more could happen, Mr Wallace gave a long loud blow to his whistle.

"Get up you two or leave the gym."

The two brothers separated and glared at each other in silence. Mr Wallace looked at his watch. He had promised to keep the older boys occupied until three-thirty and now it was three-ten. He would have to wrap this game up quickly as he could see that tempers were beginning to flare in certain quarters.

"That's enough. Cox, you are the winner. You and Morgan junior, form the guards. This is going to be the last round." Mr Wallace got ready to blow his whistle.

In truth, the boys were all getting a bit tired. The atmosphere was sweaty and what had been a fun game was rapidly becoming a grudge match between the two gangs. The boys lined up again at the far end of the gym. Sacha, now wise to the written and unwritten rules of the game, came up to Pip and pointed at Owen.

"We get Peter first. Stand on the other side and pincer him as he comes through."

Owen knew that he was not to be first and guessed what was to happen. He edged closer to Peter, a bit of sly cheating was about to happen. For once Owen was going to get one over on his chief tormentor. Sure enough, the whistle blew and Peter charged forward. Pip and Sacha held back to give Peter enough space. Owen pushed Peter hard towards Sacha as he feinted a trip and dived through as Pip mistimed his attack and fell to one side. Instead Sacha caught Peter by himself in a vicious looking rugby tackle at the waist that took both boys tumbling down onto the mat.

"Got you." Peter was beside himself with fury at his brother's actions that made him look the fool.

"You little bastard."

Peter twisted out from under Sacha, brought him down onto the mat, swiping his nose before landing both knees on his younger brother's chest. Sacha in turned lashed out and punched Peter repeatedly, but ineffectively in the chest.

"Get off. Get off me."

"Stop! Stop at once you two!"

Mr Wallace blew his whistle repeatedly before storming over and pulling Peter off Sacha who was now balled up cradling his nose. Blood was dripping on to the mat and floor.

"Get up and stand over there right now!"

The gym was deadly quiet except for some coughing from the injured Sacha. Having regained control, Mr Wallace started barking orders.

"Cox, go and fetch a towel. The rest of you go into the showers now and get dressed, in absolute silence."

Peter stood awkwardly to one side. He knew he was in serious trouble.

"Morgan, I will deal with you in a minute. I have never seen such violence in my gym. Look at the mess you have made of my floor. Go and get a cloth to clear it up."

The other boys trooped off to the showers in silence. Mr Wallace was not one to antagonise further when he was already angry.

"Here, sir." Pip returned with the towel, happy to have something to do, which meant he would avoid any mass recriminations.

"Don't give it to me. Go and help Morgan over there."

As Pip went over to the still sitting boy, Sacha did not look up. With one hand Sacha took the offered towel and delicately dabbed some of the blood off his nose and sniffed. He remained mute, face red, blotched with blood.

"Cox, take him to Matron. That nose bleed needs seeing to."

Pip took Sacha by the arm and helped him up as Sacha wiped some of the blood off his face onto his PE vest.

From the showers, the rising sound of chatter could be heard.

"The rest of you, I said silence! Now get out of that shower and get dressed."

No other instructions were needed. The other boys duly emerged from the showers and dressed in silence. Only Peter was left in the gym, carefully wiping up the spots of blood. Mr Wallace inspected the clean up operation and after pointing out a couple of spots of blood pronounced himself satisfied before turning to address the issue of the attack on Sacha.

"If it wasn't for the fact that he is your brother, I would send you to the Headmaster for fighting. You can clean up the gym and put the mats away. Leave the bloodstained one out; we will have to get that cleaned. Now get out of my sight. I don't need intersibling rivalry breaking out in my gym, understood?"

"Yes sir." Peter disappeared cloth in hand. He knew he was in disgrace, but let off a visit to the Headmaster under the strange logic that fights between brothers was not a school disciplinary offence.

In the changing room Sacha sat down on the bench under his peg. He was still silent, concentrating on his anger. Pip dressed quickly. At least he had escaped the showers. Once he had dressed, Pip took Sacha's school togs off the peg and handed them to the younger boy.

"Come on. I'm under orders to take you to Matron. She isn't going to be pleased."

Sacha removed his PE vest, now blood stained, as Pip handed him his handkerchief to stem the blood that was still oozing from his nose onto his face. Sacha looked an impressive sight, his face streaked and smeared with blood. Apart from the nosebleed Sacha also had grazes to one knee and one elbow. Pip handed Sacha his shorts. He looked up at Pip, registered the act of kindness and changed swiftly into his regular school clothes. Pip bent down to help him, but Sacha waved him away.

"No, I can do it. It's okay, thanks."

Slowly the boys made their way to Matron's office. She took one look at the wounded Sacha and sat him on the hospital style bed.

"Well, what have we been up to then? In the wars again, Sacha?" Matron looked at the boy. He bore obvious signs of being in a fight. In silence Sacha dabbed at his nose. He wasn't in the mood for talking. "What's being going on here?" Matron was always on the look out for fighting between boys and alert to the possibilities of bullying, particularly with a new boy. Pip responded on Sacha's behalf.

"He's had a bit of bashing in the gym. We were playing British Bulldog. His brother had a bit of a go at him." Matron turned to Sacha.

"British Bulldog again? I will be having words with your brother. He could have broken your nose by the look of it." She held up three fingers to Sacha. "How many fingers?" Sacha looked at the fingers uncomprehending at first. Matron tried again. "How many fingers am I holding up?" No response. "Concentrate Sacha." To help him, Matron put her hand to Sacha's chin and directed his attention to her right hand holding up three fingers.

"Three," came back Sacha, thickly and much too slowly for Matron's liking, his eyes darting in and out of focus.

"Hmm, a bit slow. You are a bit dazed." Matron pushed Sacha down on to the bed. "I am going to patch you up and keep you in here for the rest of the afternoon. That nose is going to bleed for a while and I think you need a little peace and quiet." Matron turned to Pip. "Thank you, Pip. Can you tell Mr Durrant that Sacha is going to stay here with me this afternoon and won't be attending lessons?"

"Yes, Miss."

Pip longed to stay, but knew that he would not be allowed to. The only boy who would be allowed to see him later would be Peter. Pip wasn't sure whether Peter would visit or not.

*****

Chapter 8 - Easter 1968

There was a mêlée around the notice board at the entrance to the senior boys dormitories after tea one evening. Pip was one of the last boys to arrive with Owen.

"What's going on?"

Everyone was concentrating on a list of names. No one answered. Pip craned over the other boys.

'Skye Trip: Easter 1968' was the heading. 'Final list of boys selected to go to Skye at the end of Term' was the sub-heading. Clancy was reading out the list of names.

"Morgan and the Johnson Twins, no surprises there."

Clancy read out more names. Pip spotted his name was on the list. Secretly he had hoped it would be. Last year he had missed out as he was only eleven and deemed too young, but this year, now twelve, he was going. However, apart from himself, Pip was now most interested to see who else was going. Eagerly he looked further down the list, racing ahead of Clancy, from the Sixth Formers to the Fifth Form boys joining the trip this year.

"And finally Pierce."

Jonathan's name caused a mix of groans and laughter.

"It looks like we are in for a bumpy ride then."

Jonathan lashed out the boy who made the comment causing the boys to scatter. So Pip had to fight his way through to the front to double check the names Clancy had finished reading. One name was crossed out, a Fifth Form boy who had just broken his wrist in the gym that morning. Pip looked further down the list to see the other names. Sacha was not listed; his name would have been above Jonathan. But then Pip looked further down beyond where Clancy had finished. Right at the bottom, unnoticed by Clancy, a name was appended. Captain Porter's neat writing spelt out 'Morgan, A'. So Sacha had made it by the skin of his teeth as a last minute substitute.

As soon as he saw Sacha's name Pip knew it was what he had secretly hoped for. Peter had also seen his brother's name. He turned around and sought out Sacha. Sacha was standing on the fringes of the crowd, trying to hide his disappointment as he assumed was not on the list since Clancy had not mentioned his name.

"Well, Sacha, looks like you are coming after all."

"What do you mean?"

"You made it, as a substitute. Here, see for yourself."

Peter pulled his brother through and pushed him to the front, a brotherly arm around Sacha's neck so he could see with his own eyes.

"Oh, so I am going."

"Indeed you are."

In the last couple of weeks Peter had been trying hard to make up for his earlier behaviour towards Sacha. Last weekend Sacha had gone out with him to St Ives. They went and had fish and chips before spending time in the amusement arcade on the front.

* * *

Suddenly it was the end of games on the last Friday of term. Excused afternoon lessons, there was an air of excitement as the twelve Fifth and Sixth Form boys travelling to Skye collected their kit together in an increasingly large pile by the front door. The boys, Pip included, gathered around the minibus as Captain Porter officiated over the arrangements. Sacha appeared last. He was not good at packing. In the end Mrs Porter had come to the rescue, going through his kit bag and then collecting some extra clothes for him. Satisfied, Mrs Porter led Sacha down stairs by his hand.

"Come on slow coach."

The other boys were all waiting when Sacha appeared, his hand still firmly gripped by Mrs Porter. He did not try and free himself, enjoying this moment of intimacy.

"Here he is, had to raid the airing cupboard."

"Well, we are all finally here now."

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't find my shirts."

"Not to worry, we have plenty of time."

"He needs new labels. I will tell Matron. They must have fallen off in the wash."

Amidst some low-key complaints aimed at Sacha, the boys climbed into the minibus. Scorned, Sacha sat at the front with Captain Porter, next to the driver. The boys all waved at Mrs Porter as they left. They were finally on their way.

Captain Porter took out his copy of the Times. He had yet to finish this morning's puzzle, something that irked him, as he normally aimed to finish it after lunch, a rare period he had to himself.

"Relatively wet flavour, what can that be? I couldn't work it out over my coffee this morning." Sacha looked over Captain Porter's shoulder. Two letters gave further clues.

"Oh, how about son for relative and sea for wet? So season is relatively wet and flavoured, I think."

"Goodness boy! Who has been teaching you to do crosswords?"

"Oh, my father, but Mr Barnes lets me help him with his Times crossword after lunch sometimes."

"Including today? That would be cheating I think."

"Oh, no, sir, honest."

Captain Porter looked into Sacha's eyes. The boy was telling the truth.

"Sorry, Morgan, of course you didn't cheat."

The Skye party was following a detailed itinerary drawn up by Captain Porter. The boys were to travel to Skye by train and ferry, with just Captain Porter, in itself an adventure. The two other teachers on the trip, Mr Durrant and Mr Wallace, had set off the previous afternoon, taking their cars up.

At Penzance station there was some disappointment; the only train in the platform was just an ordinary compartment train heading to Leeds via places like Bristol and Birmingham.

"Is this our train sir? It doesn't say anything about Scotland on it." The boys huddled around Captain Porter seeking answers.

"Oh no, we have to change twice. The direct sleeper to Scotland only runs in the summer and even then you have to change once."

Clancy took it upon himself to find out. He had spied the timetable displayed on the platform.

"We change at Birmingham. There's a train all the way to Fort William from there."

"That's the one. At Fort William we take another train to Mallaig after breakfast. Once in Mallaig the plan is that we then take the ferry to Armadale in Skye where we will be met by Mr Durrant and Mr Wallace who will take us to Staffin Lodge where we are staying".

Satisfied, the boys boarded the train to Birmingham.

"Okay, boys, you have two compartments between you. It's going to be a long journey and so settle down. Clancy, Morgan, in those bags are your evening meal, some sandwiches and pop to be getting on with. I will be just next-door so I can hear everything that is going on. Everything, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The boys quickly split themselves between the two compartments, their first priority being to tuck into the substantial picnic supper of cold sausages, sandwiches, cake and various cans of pop. Captain Porter briefly put his head around the door to each compartment and was satisfied that things were under control before he took up residence in an adjacent compartment, content to let the boys look after themselves. Pip was in a compartment with the Johnson twins, Clancy, Owen and Jonathan. Peter had taken Sacha into the other compartment with him and sat him in the corner. Sacha knew better than to argue with his older brother.

"Grub's up."

Clancy opened up the bag containing the food onto the small table. The boys settled into dividing up the food, eager to eat whatever had been provided. However, Captain Porter soon found his reading interrupted. The Johnson twins opened their cans of Coke. Kit's can gave out a jet of brown foam. It hit Jonathan.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Jonathan felt retaliation might be in order. He went for his can of lemonade. Pip sitting next to Jonathan, retreated into a corner behind a book. He disliked Coke at the best of times and certainly did not want to be sprayed with it. Jonathan put down his comic and began to shake his can of drink as the twins struggled to contain the fizz in their cans.

"Ready when you are."

"Really, you lot are so juvenile."

Clancy glared at Jonathan and the twins. Just at that moment Captain Porter entered their compartment, alerted by the rapid rise in noise and immediately spotted the twins were armed with two cans overflowing with fizz.

"You two, what the devil do you think you are doing?"

"Oh nothing, sir, really. It was fizzy when we opened the cans."

"Don't give me that nonsense. Give me those cans and sit down quietly. Any more trouble from the pair of you and you will be on a train straight back to school. Understood?"

"Sorry, sir."

The twins looked a bit sheepish. Jonathan carefully put his can down so as not to lose his drink as well. In reality it was an empty threat since the school was now some distance away and there was no one to escort the two thirteen year olds back in any case. After that, things calmed down. As afternoon became evening, some of the boys dozed off until finally the train pulled into Birmingham New Street station just before 10 pm. Captain Porter stood the boys on the platform.

"Stay here and don't move. I am going to collect some provisions."

The boys duly waited until Captain Porter returned from a stall with some hotdogs and despite his better judgement, more cans of pop for the thirsty boys.

"Best eat and drink before we get on the next train as this is the sleeper and we are on it until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

The boys eagerly tucked into their hotdogs and drank the cans of pop. Finally, after a wait of about thirty minutes, the boys joined the sleeper. The train pulled in apologetically slowly into a far platform with very little sign of life. Captain Porter walked along the train until he found what he was looking for.

"We have all of coach F to ourselves. Apart from my compartment at this end, you can sort yourselves out in the others."

The boys looked around and then made a mad rush to get the compartment of their choice. For the Johnson twins, it was easy; they were naturally going to share a compartment. Sacha had no choice. His older brother glared at Jonathan and Pip.

"Sacha, come with me."

As if to make the decision final, Peter lifted his brother's kitbag and took off down the carriage, Sacha scampering after him, to find an empty compartment. The rest of the boys quickly began to pair off naturally. Captain Porter counted the twelve boys on at one end before making for his own single compartment at the near end of the carriage. Pip, for once slow on the uptake, realised that his first plan to share a compartment was not going to happen. Sacha was already being towed into a compartment with Peter firmly gripping him by his wrist to stop any further discussion on the subject. As Pip walked down the narrow corridor he found himself pulled inside one of the compartments. It was not Owen, as he half expected, but Jonathan.

"Come on, Pip. Captain Porter is not checking. He counted us onto the train as a group not by compartment."

Pip looked down the corridor. There was no sign of Captain Porter. He was already unpacking his night things, including a hip flask of scotch for a decent nightcap. Both boys knew this could mean trouble if they were discovered, but a quick glance showed that Owen had moved into the compartment next door with Clancy. As the sleeper pulled out, Captain Porter went down the corridor knocking on each door.

"Okay in there?"

"Yes, sir," Jonathan answered.

Satisfied, Captain Porter moved on. For the first time since last term, Pip was alone with Jonathan. He reached for his sponge bag and joined the queue for the washbasins at the end of the corridor, Jonathan behind him. On his return Jonathan slid the door shut and locked it. There was comparative silence.

"There, no one to disturb us until morning. I've never done a sleeper. This should be fun!"

The boys explored their compartment. There was not much to explore, just two bunks already made up and a narrow space with a shelf under the window. Their rucksacks went on a shelf above the top of the corridor. It was all rather neat. Jonathan climbed the ladder to the top bunk. He was keen to take it.

"It's okay. I prefer the bottom bunk," Pip lied.

There was a silence. Pip felt a wave of tiredness come over him. "Well bedtime, I guess."

Jonathan quickly climbed into the top bunk and discarded his clothes, which he threw down to the end of his bunk before pulling on a rugger shirt as an impromptu nightshirt. Quickly and quietly Pip followed suit, donning his pyjamas and climbed into the cocoon-like interior of his own bunk. Any thoughts of further adventures that night were overtaken by the overwhelming desire to sleep. Pip looked up. Jonathan was already unconscious on his stomach, a hand hanging down. Pip sighed, put Jonathan's hand up under the bedclothes, switched out the light and fell swiftly to sleep to the swaying and clacking of the night-sleeper taking them all the way to Scotland.

By the time Pip awoke the next morning, the train was north of Glasgow, travelling through the wilds of the Highlands _en route_ to Fort William. Jonathan was already awake. The younger boy jumped down from his bunk and padded out of the door barefoot.

"Back soon."

Jonathan returned five minutes later, hair wet from wiping his face and brushing his teeth.

"There's no one else about. It is still too early."

Pip stirred as Jonathan sneaked in, half dressed in just a slightly too small rugby shirt and underwear, as though he was at school and not on the train. Luxuriating in the warmth of their compartment, Jonathan stretched up both arms above his head and stood on tiptoe and then in turn pulled up each leg by the ankle. He walked an imaginary line as if on a tightrope. Satisfied, Jonathan turned to Pip. "You getting up yet?"

"Where are we?"

Pip was trying to force himself fully conscious as Jonathan, spotting a space, knelt on the end of his lower bunk and released the blind. It shot up to reveal a scene of intense wet green emptiness.

"It looks like the middle of nowhere. I can't see a thing. It's all misty outside and we are not due in to Fort William for over an hour yet. There's no one around at all."

The unvarying green emphasised Jonathan's point. The younger boy concentrated his attentions on the empty landscape outside. Eventually Pip rose out of his bedding and joined Jonathan at the end of the bunk. Together they shared the moorland view out of the window. Bracing themselves against the rocking of the train as they knelt shoulder to shoulder, Pip enjoying the sensation of warmth of another boy close at hand.

"I hope it clears up soon. It would be awful if it rained all the time we are here."

"Well we have some way to go and Clancy said this was the wettest place in the country. Fort William, I mean."

In silence they watched the moorland landscape pass by until it gradually transformed into coastal scenes. At that point they could hear noises outside in the corridor as a series of door knocks approached closer as Captain Porter issued a standard order to his charges.

"Twenty minutes to Fort William. Up and ready in fifteen minutes."

The knock reached the door. Jonathan held his finger to his lips. Pip remained silent.

"Yes, sir. Just getting dressed now." Jonathan made sure that only he responded. As they dressed, Jonathan asked a question that had been on his mind since the game of British Bulldog in mid-term had alerted him.

"What do you see in Sacha Morgan?"

It was a very direct question, but then that was Jonathan.

"Oh not a lot really. He can be quite funny sometimes."

Jonathan turned to look Pip in the face. "I've seen you looking at him often enough. He's not that funny looking. I mean look at Owen or me if you want funny looking."

"You're not funny looking. I mean apart from your hair that is."

Jonathan instinctively reached up to his hair, feathery as always.

"There's nothing wrong with my hair."

Pip backtracked. He more than most knew Jonathan was more sensitive about his hair than people realised. Jonathan hated it when people commented on its colour or anything else.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Jonathan paused, not sure he should say this to Pip.

"You know, Sacha looks out for you everywhere. He is always asking if I know where you are. I mean always, like I am your keeper."

Pip was silenced by this last comment. It took him a while to work out the right answer. Wrong and it would be awkward, even with Jonathan.

"Really?"

It was the only one, which even half worked.

"Yes, really. If you're in sight, he keeps his eyes on you, in assembly, in the dining hall, everywhere. He's no good at hiding it. I think he's got a thing for you."

'Thing' needed no further interpretation. Jonathan had noticed something going on. So who else had? Pip felt his world shake.

"Oh no, what makes you say that? He's a year below me."

"So am I, remember."

"No, it's not like that. I just like him like I like you. Friends."

"Like you like me? Close, like brothers? Like Peter is with him?"

"No! I am not his brother. Peter is."

"I don't think Peter's that close to him, you know. I don't think so. Look at the way they had that fight in the gym."

"Didn't you fight with your brothers when younger?"

"No, the age gap was too big, even with Christopher. I was more like a plaything than someone to fight."

The noise from the neighbouring compartments increased. Another knock on the door.

"Ten minutes everyone, then we have to get off and change trains."

Jonathan pulled his rugby shirt off over his head.

"Come on, best get going."

The sound of Captain Porter's voice hurried the two boys, but then he could be heard rushing off to deal with yet more hi-jinks from the twins at the far end of the carriage. In the clamour Pip and Jonathan exited their compartment without anyone else noticing that they had been sharing.

As the train slid into Fort William, Pip and Jonathan made for the two carriage doors at opposite ends. On the station platform the unsuspecting Captain Porter greeted the boys. He officiously had his clipboard and pen at the ready, marking them all off. The first thing Pip did, without making attempt to hide it much to Jonathan's amusement, was to look for Sacha. There he was, looking very sleepy, standing next to his brother. Sacha was dwarfed by his navy kit bag, which he had slung unsteadily over his shoulder. Jonathan nudged Pip.

"See, I told you, you can't stop looking for your little friend."

Pip gave Jonathan an enormous shove, which Jonathan returned with surprising vigour.

"Ooh! Who's the sensitive one then?"

After Pip had regained his balance, he chased Jonathan down the platform.

"You just drop it. Drop it."

Jonathan laughed. "Hah! You just wait and see. I am watching, Pip."

Captain Porter shouted after them. "You two stop right there and wait for everyone else."

Order restored, the boys marched off to the café in the station and had a cooked breakfast whilst they waited for the train to Mallaig.

"Since it is Scotland, how about some porridge?" To Captain Porter's disappointment, Clancy was the only taker.

On the small train taking them to their final destination Pip resisted the urge to sit near Sacha. Sacha himself looked a bit puzzled, but Peter quickly grabbed his brother and took him to another set of seats.

"This way, sleepyhead."

Sacha sat leaning into his brother Peter, content to have his brother's arm wrapped around him. Pip sat with Clancy, Jonathan and Owen looking out of the train window at the scenery, the other boys exchanging tales of the night before whilst Pip kept to himself, lost in his own thoughts until they arrived at the end of the line in Mallaig, the tiny ferry port serving Skye.

"Come on, boys. The ferry is waiting."

The boys walked the short distance, climbed aboard and Pip finally caught up with Sacha as the two boys met on the top deck of the ferry crossing over to Armadale.

"Top or bottom bunk then?"

"Bottom bunk of course. Peter said I would fall out of bed. I didn't sleep much. I prefer flying. It doesn't bump around so much."

The boys tasted the salt air.

"It's going to be fun up here for a few days."

"You think? I bet it's all Spartan, cold showers and long forced marches across endless peat bogs and mountains."

Their conversation came to an early end as Captain Porter called the boys together. Obediently Pip and Sacha trooped down to join the other boys and watched as the ferry docked. There to meet them were Mr Wallace and Mr Durrant, having driven up separately the previous day. Also there in his Landrover was Captain Porter's younger brother.

"Hello, boys, welcome to Skye. Had a good trip?"

There was a ragged chorus of 'yes, sir' before Mr Porter continued. "We've got lots of things for you to do. So I do hope you will enjoy your stay with us."

Pip, still determined to prove to Jonathan that he did not have something on with Sacha, sat diagonally opposite the younger boy in the back of the Landrover. The boys sat in silence looking out of the windows at the stunning scenery as they made out way to the northeast part of the Island beyond Portree, the tiny brightly coloured capital. As they journeyed to their destination, Pip noticed that Sacha had put his duffel coat against the window and shut his eyes. He was catching up on his lost sleep.

Staffin Lodge was at first sight a disappointment, a long low squat building, hiding in a hollow about two hundred yards from the cliff top. The position in the hollow was a wise move to protect the building from the wind and rain. Despite its protected location closer inspection revealed a building crumbling at an alarming rate.

"I bet there are ghosts."

Owen was concerned; it looked a miserable cold place. More than one boy thought that, but kept it to himself. The building did seem rather daunting from the outside, the white painted exterior streaked black with pieces of masonry missing in several spots. As they approached, bags in hand, seeking shelter from the relentless wind and a sudden squall of rain, the impressive double black doors opened. The doors were opened by Christopher Porter, the twelve-year-old son of Mr Porter. With his father Christopher herded The Rocks party in quickly before slamming the doors shut, not without some difficulty. Suddenly it was a lot quieter.

"It is surprisingly warm when the fires are lit and the boilers turned on. Outside it can be a bit fierce this time of year. The rain here is mostly horizontal."

Christopher had a ruddy complexion and windswept hair. Pip was disappointed. Christopher was not wearing a kilt, and indeed he did not even sound particularly Scottish, but then neither did his father. The boys followed Christopher as he took them upstairs to two dormitories set aside for them. They were split into two groups. Pip found himself with Owen, Clancy and three other boys. All the remaining boys including Jonathan and Sacha were put in the dormitory opposite, Peter keeping Sacha with him. Pip was beginning to realise that Peter had already decided that Sacha was to be with him this entire trip.

"You can put your kit here. You won't need anything until after lunch. Come down in half an hour. There will be some food then."

Christopher headed off in the opposite direction to his own room in the attic, which had a window overlooking the sea. Left alone, the boys looked around their allocated dormitory, sizing up their accommodation, and then made a mad dash for the beds. Pip let himself be called over by Owen, who had bagged two beds in an alcove next to the window overlooking the sea in the distance. Pip was not so sure this was a good location; it was at the far side away from the one radiator that provided the only source of heating.

Bags unpacked, the boys made their way downstairs _en masse_.

"I bet it's haggis," some wit struck up as they descended the stairs. Christopher joined them for an early lunch of stew and treacle tart in the impressive wood panelled dining room. The meal soon filled them up. As they ate, Pip was not alone in looking outside to see great gobs of rain splat against the windows. This was a most bracing spot for anything resembling 'fun'.

"What do you do here, I mean, when it is like this?" Peter queried.

"Oh the rain passes quickly enough. The trouble is, you never know when the next lot is coming."

To Pip this trip was beginning to feel less like an adventure and more like some sort of endurance test.

After fetching their outside gear from the dormitories, Pip and the others made their way downstairs to the hallway wrapped as warmly as they could. Pip moved towards Sacha, who was wearing as many clothes as he could, but before he could arrange to walk with him, Peter moved in and gave Pip a look that meant 'clear off' and led his brother away. Pip, thwarted, found himself with Owen who was surprisingly enthusiastic.

"They've got some great cliffs here, much higher than back home."

'Home' presumably being The Rocks. It was an odd way to describe it, but Pip knew what Owen meant. For boys at boarding school, the parental home seemed less like a real home than school where they spent most of their time and where their friends were.

Duly corralled, the boys went off on a bracing walk along the cliff tops to the ruins of a castle on a headland nearby. As the other boys milled around trying to seek shelter, Pip eventually spied Sacha half hidden, muffled against the cold looking out to sea, braced against the wind. Only his nose and piercing inquisitive eyes were visible under an unruly windswept fringe, mostly hidden under a ski hat. Pip looked around. Jonathan and Peter were with another knot of boys looking over the edge.

"Enjoying it, Sacha?"

Sacha was not one for small talk when tired and cold as he was now. "If you want to know, in truth no."

Pip persisted, wanting some kind of response from the younger boy. Pip pointed at a spire of rock emerging from the wind tossed waves.

"It's certainly grand. Not even Land's End looks as grand as this."

Sacha still refused to offer a positive response.

"Really? It looks all wet and horrible to me."

Sacha turned away and huddled further into what shelter he could find and descended into miserable silence. After a few moments Pip gave up and joined a mixed group of boys tossing pebbles at the sheltering seabirds who took flight in a burst of angry squawks and excrement. Eventually boring of this game, the boys continued their walk over the next stile and wondered down to a cave. The other boys ran on, enjoying the echoes created by their shouts of glee. Pip returned to Sacha, still seeking shelter from the wind. Finally Sacha consented to talk.

"It's barren, it's wet and it's cold. It's bad enough this time of year in Cornwall, but why did we have to come here?"

"It's not always like this. They have nineteen hours of sun in summer."

Pip looked on the bright side. Sacha hadn't thought of that, but then it was not really important at the moment. He had no intention of coming back next year to this god forsaken spot.

"In summer, yes, but why did we come all the way up here in April for goodness sake?"

A cold blast hit both of them as the wind turned suddenly. The boys braced themselves again and looked down from their vantage point at the others make a noisy racket below. Their cheeks were turning red. Pip could feel his nose running in the cold.

"It's supposed to build team spirit and that sort of thing. Like being in the army."

"Well, I'm certainly not going into any army. Are you planning to?"

"No, I don't think so, not unless there is a war or something."

The last big war was some twenty years ago. Pip's father had been in the services throughout, as had all his uncles and even one of his aunts. Sacha's parents were too young for that. Their war years had been spent as children, evacuated to the safety of relatives in the country. His father was at St Finian's, the predecessor to The Rocks. Sacha was more aware of what was going on than Pip. "Oh there is one on right now."

"What war?"

"Vietnam. The Tet Offensive, a few weeks back."

"Oh. That one? I don't really pay much attention to the news."

Pip paused and tried to remember some details of the war that he occasionally noticed on the front cover of the newspapers in their common room.

"It's a long way away."

"Not when you are in Hong Kong. We get a lot of US Forces on leave sometimes, GIs."

Briefly Pip tried to imagine what Sacha's home was like with Peter, Samantha the older sister, and presumably parents, father working, some sort of businessman, mother at home most likely. He imagined a large house and it had some sort of park nearby. Sacha had mentioned it to him, 'The Peak'. It was in an area above the rest of Hong Kong the way Peter had once described it to him and then there was Sacha's old school. What was that like? Not a boarding school and mixed, that was all Pip knew.

At long last, the walk was deemed to be at an end as Christopher gathered the boys together.

"There is always some tea and cake at four."

Led by Christopher, they all made their way back to the Lodge. As they walked in, a combination of the wheezing central heating system, a network of fires and the animal warmth of a group of energetic boys had raised the temperature to comfortable. After a welcoming tea the visiting boys had returned to their quarters, showered (hot to everyone's relief) and then gathered downstairs. Mr Durrant and Mr Wallace split them up into pairs and gave the boys the task of navigating a route over the mountains to the port of Uig using the maps provided. Pip always loved maps; he was soon absorbed with Clancy in working out the easiest route, estimating the time it would take. Initially the twins appeared to have won, having come up with a route that involved a descent down a waterfall. Mr Wallace was not so sure.

"We would dive off it, sir."

"I don't think so." Mr Wallace pointed at the rocks at the bottom. With Clancy helping, Pip was pleased to find that their route was deemed to be the best compromise as they presented it to the other boys.

In no time at all it was time for a large supper in front of a roaring fire. Suddenly Staffin Lodge seemed like a decent enough place and their hosts amiable even if a bit rough around the edges.

After supper the boys slumped on sofas in three and fours in the comfortable baronial style sitting room, surrounded by reminders of the Lodge's former role as a hunting lodge mounted on the walls around them. Captain Porter, reinforced by a large shot of malt whisky, proceeded to entertain them by reading some of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ to the assembled boys.

"I have in my pocket a manuscript," said Dr James Mortimer.

"I observed it as you entered the room," said Holmes.

"It is an old manuscript."

"Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery."

"How can you say that, sir?"

"You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination all the time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I put that at 1730."

"The exact date is 1742."

The boys were soon entranced at tales of demon dogs on the high moors of Dartmoor, only slightly uncomfortable in the knowledge that they were currently located in a similar location. Pip had squeezed onto a sofa with Owen and Jonathan next to the fire. Sacha was the other side of the fireplace with Peter and the Johnson twins. As Captain Porter continued to read to the boys, Pip found himself keeping his attention on Sacha. Uncomfortably, he recognised that Sacha and Peter were close despite their constant fighting. As there was not nearly enough room, Sacha was sitting on his brother's knees. Peter in turn had an arm enclosing his younger brother and had allowed Sacha's head to rest on his shoulder. Sacha's eyes, reflecting the flames of the fire, were beginning to shut; eventually he dozed off. In truth, Sacha was not alone. Owen was snoring none too softly already.

Sensing he was losing his audience, Captain Porter brought proceedings to an early close.

"Come on, boys, an early start tomorrow. We have a little adventure planned for you all!"

Accompanied by a chorus of groans, the boys slowly unpicked themselves and made for their bunks. There was no need to call for lights out as a much more profound quietness rapidly descended onto Staffin Lodge.

The next day started bright. Fortified by a large cooked breakfast, the nature of today's adventure was revealed. Mr Porter bustled into the dining room.

"We are going on a little trek up to the Man of Staffin and then over the far side to a rendezvous point where the cars will be waiting with a packed lunch for you to enjoy. To make it a bit more exciting, you are going to be split into four teams with a task of collecting pennants using grid references and clues to find them."

There was a general hubbub as Captain Porter organised the teams. Pip found himself accompanied by Owen and Christopher Porter. At least Christopher had local knowledge. So Pip was optimistic that they might win. Christopher Porter took charge; he was a natural leader, much more so than Peter.

"Who has done orienteering here?"

Pip volunteered. "I have."

Pip knew he was good with maps and soon found himself assisting Christopher in following the trail to the pennants. Owen followed, puffing and red faced as he followed up behind. Despite all Christopher's energetic attempts to move the team along, they still managed to come second after the Johnson twins with Clancy.

"Well, we tried at least. Shame about heading down the wrong side of the col, though.

"Sorry about that. Just no visual clues from the sun up here in this cloud."

"All too true. Wait until summer though, but then you will get eaten alive by midges."

The twins were victorious, but the importance of who won was quickly forgotten once the boys tucked into a welcome meal of hot soup and sandwiches. After this break, the boys made the shorter walk back to the Lodge along the coastal route. To Pip's annoyance Sacha spent the whole day in his brother's company, Peter keeping anyone else, including Pip, well at bay with a wintry look if any dared come too close. An exhausting day was rounded off with a further instalment of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_. The boys all sat in more or less the same groups as they had done yesterday.

A visit to the neighbouring island of Raasay and two further treks, including one involving an overnight stop at a remote hostel took up the rest of the week. As they returned from their overnight trek, there was a surprise in store for them that evening.

"We thought you would like to try some haggis and, to go with it, how about some dressing up?"

It took the boys a little while to take in what 'dressing up' meant until Christopher came in with some kilts.

"There's enough for all of you, but size wise, I am not so sure."

That sparked a rapid scramble, once the kilts had been sorted. Pip found one that fitted him reasonably well. However, Jonathan and Sacha found themselves with kilts that were probably meant for much younger boys and so too short even for them, well above the knees. The boys rushed to their dormitories and changed. Downstairs, the boys assembled, with sporrans, white shirts and football socks almost looking the part. Christopher, with his own kilt and ornate sporran looked the best, with a frilly white shirt he was wearing especially for the occasion.

The meal was an elaborate feast. Fresh prawn cocktail to start, meaning a battle ensued to remove the prawns from their shells. This was followed by haggis with swede and potato. Pip was not the only boy unsure about the haggis, but he fought his way through this to be rewarded by a hot sponge in syrup topped with custard.

Captain Porter and his brother gave a little speech at the end of the meal.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourselves. It has been quite an adventure despite the weather."

"Or perhaps it has been quite an adventure because of the weather?"

Mr Porter made the dining room echo with laughter. However, the main purpose was to hand out the Staffin Challenge Cup for the boy who had achieved the most points on the trip using a scoring system that placed Pip in the middle of the pack. To his dismay he saw that Sacha, despite his initial dislike of the place, came well ahead of him. The cup itself went to Kit and Robbie who had fallen into a mountain stream on their final trek whilst trying to take a short cut. The twins duly went to the head of the table to pick it up.

"Thank you, sir, for a great trip and adventure. It is a pity it is such a short one."

The boys duly gave three cheers and then finished off any of the sponge pudding that remained to be eaten.

At the end of the meal Christopher disappeared from the dining hall along with Jonathan. Both boys returned a few moments later, Christopher with an Irish flute in his hand accompanied by two local boys equipped with bagpipes. Jonathan came in after the local boys with a snare drum. Together the four boys played several reels to the assembled audience. In between two tunes Pip spoke to one of the two local boys.

"Can I try your bagpipes?"

The boy looked at his friend. There was an exchange in another language, Gaelic, Pip guessed.

"Here, try mine. Stuart's is a bit fragile. It was his grandfather's."

Pip, with a little help, got little more than a drone out of the pipes. It took an immense amount of blowing to improve on that. The others queued up to try for themselves.

*****

Chapter 9 - Easter 1968

As the boys came downstairs with their things, Mr Wallace took charge of the boys as they prepared to start the long journey home that afternoon.

"We only have two cars so you boys will have to split between my car and Mr Durrant's."

Instinctively most of the boys made a move towards Mr Durrant's Audi. In the rush to get the front seat Peter seemed to forget Sacha who was left at the back of the knot of boys.

"Easy, easy. I can only take five. The rest of you will have to go with Mr Wallace."

Pip seeing where Sacha was, stood back also, as did Owen and the Johnson twins. Mr Wallace looked proudly at his less than new car as he put their bags in the back, carefully fitted in amongst the various pieces of games kit. It was going to be a long journey.

"I wouldn't wait for me, John," Mr Wallace signalled to Mr Durrant as he pulled on his black leather driving gloves. Mr Durrant looked relieved at avoiding the need to travel in convoy. He was looking forward to steering his car alone along the many roads which lay between Skye and Cornwall, without having to worry about Mr Wallace and his car. He turned to the eager boys gathered around his car.

"Four in the back and Morgan, you had better map read." He raised his head briefly to Mr Wallace. "I suggest we rendezvous at the ferry in Armadale. It is some way from here. We won't reach Fort William until mid evening, I'm afraid."

Pip looked at Mr Wallace's car, not much room in the back. Mr Wallace answered the boy's question before he even raised it.

"I guess two in front and three in the back." He looked at Owen's bulk and then at the other boys in his group. "Sorry Owen, you will have to stay in the back, but you two can do turn and turn about with the Johnson twins. All right, boys, climb on board. Cox, you navigate and Morgan, you squeeze in with him. All right?"

Relieved at this organisation of the seating, Pip climbed in first. Sacha waited until he had put the carefully ordered maps on the dashboard and then without even asking sat on Pip's lap, his knees still muddy from a last minute game of football. Sacha was a warm welcome weight on Pip's lap. Christopher and Mr Porter came down the steps of the centre to see them on their way with Captain Porter.

"Good luck, boys. Sorry it is so soon."

With a scrunch of gravel they began their long journey down south, Jonathan and Clancy remaining behind to be picked up by their parents. Pip kept the map open all the way, studying it intently. Sacha, warm on top of him, was silent. By the time they passed through Portree, Sacha's head was leaning against Pip's shoulder, his hair tickling Pip's right cheek. There was not much talking after the first few minutes. Sacha wriggled a bit to make himself more comfortable and then a minute later wriggled again.

"Sacha, keep still!"

Pip was trying to keep his eye on the map, but with Sacha moving about it was easy to lose his place. Mr Wallace looked over.

"Morgan, if you are going to be a nuisance you can sit in the back."

"Oh, I am all right, sir. I've just got a numb leg."

"Really? Settled now?"

"He's fine, sir, I am sure."

Pip stepped in. He did not want Sacha switched for one of the twins. Mr Wallace checked. Sacha was now still. Silence ensued. So Mr Wallace put on his radio. Up here there was not much to listen to, just the BBC's long-wave service. As they drove south, the rain began to pick up and batter the windscreen as dusk set in. The map was unnecessary. Pip had memorised the villages they had to go through. Nevertheless, he kept the map open on Sacha's lap. To keep the younger boy in position, Pip had his left arm under Sacha's. Sacha shifted his weight to make himself more comfortable. He turned his head sideways, his thick eyelashes now visible, his eyes reduced to slits. He seemed to be settling down for a doze. Pip slowly wrapped his arm around the younger boy, conscious that he was holding him in a protective embrace.

Suddenly the car ground to a halt in the straggling village that was Broadford. A question from Mr Wallace startled Pip from his reverie.

"Well, which way, Cox? You were doing well until now."

"Sorry, sir. Straight ahead, through Broadford."

He quickly sneaked a look at the map one handed. Kyeleakin one way, Armadale the other. He looked for Armadale and estimated the distance.

"Yes, only twenty miles to the ferry. I think Mr Durrant said the last one was at eight o'clock."

Mr Wallace looked at his watch. Pip could see him looking worried. "Less than hour, okay?"

He shifted into gear and they travelled on through Broadford. The houses began to thin out; they carried on. On the right an isolated signpost appeared 'Ferry' written on it. Pip looked behind to check, but could not see what else it said. The road entered a village; houses appeared all around them. A sign came up on the roadside. This was Kyleakin; they were heading to the Kyle of Lochalsh Ferry and not the Armadale ferry. At first Pip said nothing, aware that Sacha was no longer just feigning sleep, his right hand slipped to the side, his breathing long and deep. Pip looked at the map again worried. Perhaps there was another road to Armadale along the coast? They came into the village. It quickly became clear; the road to Kyleakin was a dead end, just leading to the ferry. Pip could always tell. Now worried that he might be wrong, Pip could see Mr Wallace sneak a sideways look at him. The car slowed and stopped.

"I don't want to doubt you map reading abilities, Cox, but I think I had better check." He started to reach for the map. Pip cut him off, now sure that they needed to turn around and head back north to find the turning.

"I thought the turn was here. It's not. It must be back in Broadford. I think we are going the wrong way, sir. We need to go back to Broadford, don't we?"

He looked at the map again. They had driven straight ahead when in fact they should have turned right in Broadford. On the map it was clear and there was no alternative route other than to return to Broadford.

"We have to turn around, sir. I can see it now. It was a right hand turn three miles back."

Mr Wallace peered at the map over Pip's shoulder. The master checked Pip's assessment of the situation and conceded the boy was correct. Pip was still in charge.

"You're right. We go back and turn left and I think I would have made the same mistake. It's hidden in the fold of the map."

Reassured, Mr Wallace turned the car around and they headed back up the road they had come down until they were close to Broadford where they turned left and headed westwards towards the ferry to Mallaig. The other boys slumbered whilst Pip read the map more closely. Once they made it past the turning, it was straight on to the ferry at Armadale, but they still had about 15 miles to go on a narrow and twisting road. For a few miles Pip kept checking the map against the tiny hamlets they passed through. This was the right way. Confirmation received and checked by Mr Wallace, the boys could relax a bit as the car began to cover the miles to the ferry. Once again Pip wrapped his left arm around Sacha's sleeping form. Pip felt protective of his sleeping friend and let himself nuzzle the back of Sacha's head, his hair prickling Pip's nose and face, but Pip did not mind.

Mr Wallace rounded the next corner. The little ferry port of Armadale came into view. A few lights around a small harbour and a row of houses, nothing much else. In the middle of the bay was another set of lights moving away from them. The last ferry was leaving the harbour.

Without warning, distracted by the lights of the ferry, Mr Wallace jammed on the brakes at an unexpected kink in the road. The car skidded then lurched off the side of the road and the passenger's side of the car suddenly sunk down with a scrunch of gravel. Sacha shot forward and thumped loudly into the dashboard, Pip's grasp broken by the abrupt stop.

"Ow!" Pip cried out more in alarm than pain as he put his hand up just in time to stop a similar fate, but hit his knee. Behind him he was aware of the startled cries of the other boys hitting the back of the front seats.

"Sorry, boys, sorry." Mr Wallace was alarmed. "I am sorry. I could see the ferry. I'm afraid we have missed it."

Pip looked up, a sharp pain in his knee, eyes blurry with the impact. Sacha was slumped forward his head on the dashboard, a hand slowly reaching up, the only other sound being the ticking of the hot engine and some muffled groans and exclamations from the back of the car.

"What's happened?"

"We've hit something."

"I was asleep."

"I think we've just skidded off the road and ended in a ditch." Pip used his front seat location to tell the boys in the back what had actually happened. In the distance the lights of the ferry were already one quarter of the way across the sound. Sacha finally stirred and held up his hand. It was shaking. He was breathing rapidly and erratically.

"Oh damn!"

Mr Wallace looked across at Pip who was wincing with the pain in his knee. He restarted the engine, stalled a couple of times and then using high revs, crashed the gears into reverse, but it was useless. The wheels span in a high-pitched whine and then the car stalled. They were mired in a ditch. In the silence the other boys began to react.

"Sir, what are we going to do?"

"Where are we, sir?"

The voices from the back sounded frightened. In between Pip felt Sacha lean back, still staring at his hand. The boy made a small sound. It was not a word, instead a low-pitched murmur emerged, unformed in meaning. It was enough of a signal for Mr Wallace to stop his fruitless efforts to escape the ditch and turn on the ceiling light. The weedy yellow light revealed enough. With a single glance Mr Wallace realised that one of his charges needed urgent attention. Sacha was leaning back, hand to face; blood was seeping through the boy's fingers. Ominously Sacha was shaking, silent apart from his laboured breathing. Mr Wallace started with an apology.

"I am sorry, Sacha, that was my fault."

Then Mr Wallace stopped himself. Sacha wasn't listening. The boy was too dazed; he needed medical attention. Mr Wallace looked out of the window and could see lights. "Look, I am going to have to go and get help straight away. Pip, stay here and look after Sacha and you as well, Owen. Kit, Robbie, you two run along ahead and go to the first house with lights on."

Shocked at their first names being used, the boys obeyed the orders. The Johnson twins got out on the driver's side and raced down the hill ahead of Mr Wallace, calling for help.

"Help, help, there's been an accident."

The first house was in darkness. The twins went straight onto the next house, which did show lights and banged violently on the door. Mr Wallace followed them, his black mackintosh flying in the wind and rain. Owen stayed in the back of the car, his bulk ruling out any role in their rescue. Pip took charge.

"Get your handkerchief, Owen." He couldn't reach his own handkerchief just now. Owen fumbled too long without result. Pip sighed and decided to reach for his own, fortunately clean, and gave it to Sacha.

"Here, Sacha, take this." Sacha did not respond. So Pip gently pushed down Sacha's arm to see what was happening. "Come on, I'll do it. Let me see." There was blood trickling down Sacha's right cheek from above the eye. Cleaning off the blood revealed a cut over his right eye. Sacha remained quiet, trembling in shock, his breathing rapid like his heartbeat. Not able to do anything else, Pip wrapped his left arm around Sacha, muttering encouraging noises to the younger boy. "Come on, Sacha, the village is very close. I am sure Mr Wallace and the twins will be back very soon."

Owen had at last freed his own distinctly grubby handkerchief and proffered it to Pip.

"A bit too late, Owen. Still, full marks for trying."

Owen tried not to look too upset. He knew he had failed. While Sacha snuffled in shock, Pip and Owen looked towards the village keen to see help arrive. Eventually, swaying lights appeared. Two torches rushed rapidly towards them, the twins at the run. Behind them with Mr Wallace were two other adult figures walking fast. The driver's door to the car opened and the twins looked in.

"Help's here. We found a house with lights on."

Mr Wallace came next. He was explaining to a middle aged couple what had happened.

"I was concentrating on the lights of the jetty when suddenly the road veered. We went into the ditch."

"It's a nasty bend this one. You're not the first."

The woman looked nice. She peered into the car with concern.

"Let's have a look shall we?" Gently she prised Sacha's blood smeared hand away from his face. "It looks worse than it is, laddie. Here, Malcolm, give me something to wipe the bairn's face with."

The man produced a handkerchief. She wiped the blood from Sacha's face.

"I think we had better call Dr McLeod to have a look, just to be on the safe side. Let's get him into somewhere warm and dry. We had better go the inn. They have a telephone so we can call Dr McLeod from there."

"I'll have to take you from this side. There's not enough space the other side."

The man opened the door wider and started to reach into the car for Sacha, his hands under Sacha's armpits.

"Come on, laddie."

"Mmph," was as much as Sacha felt like saying as he was gently prised from Pip's hands by the man who picked Sacha up in his arms.

"Here, laddie, rest awhile with me."

The warmth of Sacha suddenly gone, Pip started to ease himself out over the gear stick, helped by Mr Wallace, all stiff and sore. Owen followed without help. The man looked at the car, Sacha cradled in his arms.

"That will have to stay off the road for tonight. I am sure McLaughlin will help you pull it out tomorrow with his Land Rover. We had better take you to the inn. Mrs McGregor will have some spare rooms, I am sure."

Mr Wallace stepped in to carry Sacha, his eyelids fluttering in and out of semi-consciousness.

"You three, get the bags out of the boot and bring them along."

"Pip, can you walk?"

"I'll try, sir."

"Good boy"

The party walked to the Ardvasar Inn, which was just beyond the ferry dock. Pip, limping with a badly bruised knee, found himself being supported by the man who, despite his protestations, soon picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. The lights of the inn looked very welcoming in the rain. Inside the bar were the landlord, some regulars and the pub cat, lounging in front of the fire. On seeing the party, Mr McGregor, the landlord, took charge.

"Oh dear, looks like we have had a bit of a do."

"Aye, they have, car came off the road and I think we need Dr McLeod to come out. This bairn has had quite a knock."

"I'll call him directly. The rest of you come over here where it's warm. We'll get things sorted. Take him through to the kitchen. The light is better there."

The regulars quickly moved things out of the way so that their new guests could make themselves comfortable.

"Marie, come down. It looks like there's been a bit of an accident. I'm calling Dr McLeod."

It didn't take long for the doctor to be called and the remaining boys to be seated at a big table in the corner. The Johnson twins got there first. They had a bottle of Coke each and a packet of crisps that they were sharing out rigidly one at a time in turn. Owen looked hungrily at this scene, but knew better than to ask for food from the twins. Reluctantly Pip sat next to Owen, his knee newly bandaged by Doctor McLeod. Mr Wallace was in the kitchen with Mrs McGregor, the inn's landlady, and Mrs Malcolm who was busily clucking over Sacha with Dr McLeod who was staring into Sacha's eyes with a torch for a second time. The doctor stood up.

"Mild concussion, and a nasty bruise. The cut looks worse than it is. I don't think he needs stitches, but I will have another look tomorrow morning. Here is some aspirin if he needs it tonight."

Sacha sat pale faced and silent, wrapped in a blanket, slumped in a large wooden chair that completely dwarfed him, his feet off the floor hanging limply. Dr McLeod left Mrs Malcolm cleaning the blood from his face and hair with a wet flannel.

"You had better keep an eye on him. If he is still as groggy as this in the morning, then we will have to take him to Portree to have a further look."

Mrs McGregor came out to the boys at the table.

"Look at you all, as glum as anything! Well, I have some food. Would you like some pie and chips followed by ice-cream?"

Owen, always looking to further increase his bulk, answered for them all. "Yes, please, Miss, we don't get chips at school."

Owen's answer caused a chuckle around the bar. One of the regulars leaned over and spoke to Mr McGregor who was behind the bar. He reached behind himself, produced a half dozen bags of crisps and some bottles of Coke, then came round to the front of the bar and put them all on the boys' table.

"Mr McLaughlin has taken pity on you. Here's something to keep you going for a wee while until to my wife returns with something more substantial."

Owen, now increasingly reassured, turned to their benefactor. "Thank you sir. I needed that!"

Mr Wallace came out of the kitchen with Mrs Malcolm and spoke to the other boys.

"Sacha will be all right. He just banged his head and got a cut on his forehead. He'll probably have a bit of a headache in the morning. I want to keep him quiet until then. The local doctor will look in on him tomorrow to see if he is still concussed."

Sacha wasn't coming out into the bar. Pip could see him sitting at the table, a glass of milk in front of him and a sandwich, which he reluctantly took a bite from under the watchful eye of Mrs McGregor who alternated between the stove and her new charge. Mr Wallace, after being invited, sat at the bar with some of the regulars consuming a pint of beer and some sandwiches. This he followed rapidly with first one whisky and then another. There was not much talking at the boys' table. Once the food arrived, the boys tucked in. Owen finished his plate, then started on the remains of Pip's half finished meal and then the plates of Kit and Robbie. He burped in a satisfied way and then started to yawn. In truth all the boys were yawning. It was now nine-thirty at night after a long day. In a lull between orders Mrs McGregor came out to the boys at the table.

"There's just the two rooms, a family room with a double bed and a single bed and another smaller double on the half landing."

She looked at the twins.

"You two can share, I think?"

The twins nodded agreement. They were used to sharing a bed.

"I can make up a bed on the sofa in our living room downstairs and we have a camp bed, a bit primitive. That just leaves three of you."

Mrs McGregor weighed up the options. The rather large boy looked like he would probably need more than a camp bed. Not wishing to cause any further trouble to their kind benefactor, Mr Wallace spoke up.

"Oh, I am fine with the sofa. I am sure we can manage without a camp bed if there is a double bed."

Unexpectedly Sacha stood at the door to the kitchen wrapped in his blanket. He looked pale and shaky, but he listened to the discussion, propping himself against the door. Mrs McGregor continued. "Well it's barely a double bed even." There was a pause whilst the party contemplated the alternatives. Sacha could go in the single bed along with the twins and Owen and Pip could share or... Mrs McGregor knew it was a very small double bed. The large boy would take it all up by himself. She considered the situation further and looked at the still dazed looking little boy nominally in her charge.

"Perhaps it would be better if someone was with this one."

She looked around the table and then at Mr Wallace, now downing yet another whisky. A drunken teacher sharing a bed with the injured boy was perhaps not the best choice right now, she thought. She then looked at Owen. He would hog all the space. Then she eyed Pip. Sacha got there first. "How about Pip?" Sacha turned to Pip. "Do you mind?" All eyes turned to Pip. Owen was particularly keen on this arrangement he did not want to share with anyone, least of all Morgan.

"Okay, just for one night." Pip answered quickly before any other answer came to people's minds. Pip hoped he had sounded neither too pleased nor too appalled by the prospect of sleeping with Sacha.

The boys went upstairs. The twins and Owen went ahead to discover that they were in the attic, always something of an adventure. The room Pip was to share with Sacha was on the half landing. It was very small, as advertised, at the back of the inn. Sacha was still downstairs being fussed over. After brushing his teeth, Pip climbed into his pyjamas and almost fell into the old fashioned bed choosing the side by the wall in the small cramped room. Sacha sleepwalked into the room five minutes later, almost carried by Mrs McGregor, a fresh sticking plaster on his forehead and hair slightly wet from being flannelled clean. He sat on the side of the bed as Mrs McGregor opened his kit bag.

"Where are your pyjamas?"

Sacha was not going to answer. His eyes were beginning to close in tiredness. Pip looked at the kitbag. It had the initials PM on it.

"That is his brother's bag. That belongs to Peter. I think they must have got them mixed up earlier on when we got in the cars."

Mrs McGregor reached further into the bag and still found no pyjamas. "Doesn't your brother have any pyjamas?"

"He didn't bring them it looks like."

Mrs McGregor hmmphed to herself and looked at Sacha, a boy she clearly thought needed pyjamas since he was sharing a bed. Sacha sat quietly, stupefied with tiredness and still pale with shock. Eventually Mrs McGregor reached in and pulled out a clean rugby shirt that Peter had not worn. She eyed it to the small boy sitting on the bed in front of her.

"This will do, won't it, Sacha?"

"Yes, miss." His lisp more pronounced by tiredness. Sacha attempted to undress, but his hands were still shaking. Mrs McGregor, seeing the feebleness of his efforts took charge.

"Stay still. I will see to you."

Mrs McGregor started pulling on Sacha's jumper and then took over unbuttoning his check shirt as the boy sat unresisting on the bed. The rugby shirt was put over his raised arms and then over his head until his dishevelled hair emerged. Shoes and socks were quickly removed.

"I had better have your shorts as well. They will get all creased in bed." Peter's shirt was two sizes too large for Sacha. It came down to his thighs. Sacha, encouraged by Mrs McGregor stood up, facing her as she took his shorts from him. Sacha stood until Mrs McGregor pulled back the bedcovers on Sacha's side of the bed. He needed no further encouragement. Sacha fell gratefully into bed and lay next to Pip on his stomach, all energy leaving his body instantly, his left arm draped over Pip's chest, holding Pip's pyjama jacket. Mrs McGregor smiled at them both.

"A long and rather adventurous day for you two, I think. I suggest you get a good night's sleep. The first ferry is not until just after 10 o'clock tomorrow." She turned to Pip. "If Sacha needs any aspirin or anything, I will leave some out on the next landing on the right. Mr Wallace will be downstairs. We won't be going to bed for at least a couple of hours or so. We have the bar to clear up."

Mrs McGregor bent down and looked into Sacha's eyes. They were already shut. She pulled up the bedclothes further until just some of his hair showed and then tucked both boys in tightly. They were going nowhere that night she was sure. As she left the room, she turned the light off. Both boys were already asleep.

Pip awoke in the middle of the night. It was still dark and quiet apart from wind buffeting the window. Sacha's back was to him. Pip gently ran his hand down Sacha's back. The boy was warm, his shirt half way up his back. Pip lay silent to see whether Sacha made a move. The quiet slow breathing from his companion confirmed that Sacha remained in a deep sleep. Slowly Pip echoed Sacha's position turning over onto his side, putting his hand on Sacha's shoulder and moving closer so he was right behind the boy's warm form. After a while Pip slipped his left arm under Sacha until he felt Sacha's hands resting together on the pillow. The four hands were now together, Pip's enclosing Sacha's. The boys lay still until Pip felt Sacha stretch, pull his hands free and put them between his legs, to make himself warmer. Pip responded by bringing his legs up behind Sacha so that he completely encircled him. The younger boy did not resist. Instead he snuggled ever closer into Pip's body to increase the warmth and contact. The silence was total. Pip lay awake. A feeling of warmth as his arms embraced Sacha, his hands gently enclosing Sacha's in a gentle massage. Pip's young companion did not stir other than when he stretched briefly and then curled up dead to the world once more. Pip remained tightly bound to the sleeping boy that lay with him once more as if to protect him from everything else in the world around him. Not a word was said between the two boys. Sacha remained cocooned by Pip, comforted by the warm strength encircling him. They slept in each other's embrace until morning woke them with the sounds of activity outside the door and the smell of bacon.

Sacha gently eased Pip's hands apart and sat himself up to a thumping headache, turning his legs until he was sitting on the side of the bed. Sacha looked back to the still sleeping Pip, quickly removing his brother's shirt before standing up to put his shorts on. As he did so, he looked at himself in the mirror. He could see that yesterday's misadventure had left him with a big plaster above his eye. Pip took advantage of his friend's absence, turned over and settled down again. Still no sign of waking, so Sacha gently rocked the sleeping form.

"Pip, we'd best get going." Pip finally stirred himself awake as Sacha finished dressing. "Morning already?"

"Can't you smell breakfast?"

Reluctantly Pip rose and started to dress, hiding his modesty as Sacha slowly piled Peter's rugby shirt back into the kit bag, conspicuously not looking as Pip dressed. Just as the boys finished dressing, Mr Wallace came in to the room to call the boys down for breakfast.

"Sorry, we almost forgot you two. How's our walking wounded? I can see the beginnings of a black eye there, Morgan."

It was back to surnames again.

After breakfast Sacha was given a check-up by Doctor McLeod as the other boys went to help with pulling Mr Wallace's car out of the ditch. Happy that Sacha appeared his normal self, Doctor McLeod announced the boy was fit to travel. On leaving the inn, the boys walked down to the shore, led by the Johnson twins and with Owen alone in between. Sacha followed Pip out, deep in thought, hands in pockets. Pip paused and waited by the harbour wall. Did Sacha remember anything about last night? If he did, Pip feared that he might tell Mr Wallace, but Sacha followed obediently like a dog with its owner. Unspoken, Sacha was acquiescent to Pip's invitation to be close to him. The two boys walked down to the jetty to a point where they could see the mainland opposite. The first ferry was visible, still loading over in Mallaig.

The two boys stood slightly apart from the other three. Pip stood behind Sacha as if to shelter him from the brisk breeze, leaning into the younger boy. He pointed at a bird on the horizon.

"Look, I think it is a hawk of some sort."

It was an attempt to conceal the real reason for Pip's closeness to Sacha, an attempt once again to share the warmth of his body in close proximity. Sacha in turn leaned back and broke the slightly awkward silence.

"I was real tired last night. I don't remember much."

"You were probably concussed. That's what the doctor said last night. You nearly fell into your food. I think Mr Wallace was getting ready to carry you off to bed at one point."

"What, in front of everyone?"

"Everyone. You were swaying. I think you were asleep with your eyes open."

"I've got a splitting headache to go with it."

Sacha was clearly not feeling all that bright. The two boys stopped talking, not sure what to say next. Out in the water a ship's horn sounded. It was the ferry approaching the harbour. Pip eventually broke the silence.

"Time to go."

The ferry back to the mainland took just thirty minutes. Apart from Sacha who slumped in a corner, the rest of the boys celebrated by playing tag until brought to order by Mr Wallace. Mr Wallace was not in a good mood. His driving into the ditch last night had resulted in one injured pupil and a car that would need a significant amount of money spent on it. That morning Mr Wallace had been on the telephone to pass on the news to Captain Porter and Mr Durrant. They agreed to meet the Morgan family at a rendezvous near Birmingham where the party would split. Sacha and Peter were now going to go direct to London Airport from Birmingham with their parents and sister Sam to catch their flight to Hong Kong. The other boys would then drive back to Cornwall.

The drive back was long and dreary. To catch up, Mr Wallace resolved to drive all night to get to the rendezvous at 11 o'clock the next day. The boys themselves were tired after their adventure. Owen now sat in front, the other four in the back. The presence of the Johnson twins kept Pip away from Sacha.

Sacha felt little other than a thumping headache. He felt sick and feared throwing up. Unable to control his current state, Sacha put himself into a state of suspension, sleeping most of the way down south. The rest of the time his mind kept going back to what happened the previous night. His memories were jumbled and intermittent. He could not remember much after leaving Staffin Lodge other than a strange intense dream, a pleasant dream, a dream of touching, of one of Sam's friends he sometimes played tennis with. He dreamt of her sharing a shower with him, a feeling of intense pleasure building up and then a surging sensation. Sacha then recalled waking up from that dream, encircled in Pip's arms, impossibly snug, aware something enjoyable had happened, but what was it? Ever so often Sacha looked over to Pip as if to seek an answer.

Pip avoided Sacha's glances and kept staring out of the window as if avoiding him, consumed in his own feelings of guilt at what he had done whilst Sacha had been asleep.

*****

Chapter 10 - Summer Term 1968

The two sheets of paper handed to him by Mr Barnes dashed any thoughts Pip had of enjoying the coming Summer Term. Reluctantly he examined the long list of books he was supposed to read, chapters to revise and formulae he was supposed to know by heart. Mr Barnes had eyed Pip's downcast look. He knew Pip was one to fret.

"Don't worry, Pip, you can spend an extra half an hour during your reading break each lunchtime to make sure you are on top of the reading list and say another half an hour in the evening. That is the best way, little and often. You will be getting weekly tests to see if you have any gaps, but I don't think we expect to find many."

His things hurriedly unpacked and placed in his locker, Pip lay on his top bunk and looked at the two-page list of revisions. A sense of panic began to well up, so much so, he hardly noticed when other boys started to drift in and out of the dormitory, his initial thoughts of finding Sacha temporarily forgotten until Peter arrived. Peter dumped his bags down and slowly unpacked, tired after landing from Hong Kong very early that morning. The others, including Pip, said their usual greetings, but Peter kept to himself and tried to ignore the hubbub around him. Once finished he picked up his sponge bag to take to their dormitory bathroom, a shower to wake himself up. As Peter passed the end of his bunk, Pip asked the question he most wanted to have answered.

"So where is your half-wit brother then?" Quite why Pip described Sacha as a 'half-wit' he did not know. However, it satisfied Peter.

"He's not here yet."

"Oh, why is that?" Pip felt a sense of concern all of a sudden. "He is coming, isn't he?"

"Oh, I am sure he is, it's just... Well, it's just he was a bit reluctant to come back today, homesick and all that. He's with Samantha in Bristol tonight. He will be here tomorrow. Sam's not going to put up with him forever."

Peter looked around the dormitory. The twins were still silently studying the magazine they were reading. Otherwise the dormitory was empty. Without warning Peter sat down on Pip's trunk opposite. He fidgeted briefly before he looked up to Pip on the top bunk.

"You had a bit of an adventure coming back from Skye, didn't you?" What was Peter going to say? What had Sacha said to him?

"Sacha told you?"

"We missed our plane as a result of it. Had to hang around ages for another one."

"We nearly crashed in Mr Wallace's car. We came off the road and missed the ferry."

"Sacha was a bit confused about what happened. He just remembers leaving Staffin Lodge and then not much more until the next morning or not much that makes sense." Peter flicked his towel. There was an awkward pause. Pip tried to fill the gap.

"Sacha hit his head. He was really dopey afterwards."

"Yes, he had a big cut above his eye when we finally met up. They were worried about him flying. We had to see a doctor before they let him on the plane."

"Is he okay now?"

"Oh fine, although he was seen by our doctor a couple times, headaches, dizzy spells. He's got a bit of a scar above his eye though, not much of one, but he will probably have it for ever now." Peter stood up. "Shower time."

So if Sacha had not said anything to Peter, perhaps he did not remember? But Pip knew he had another day to wait.

As if needing to confirm with his own eyes what Peter had told him, Pip went down to 5W's dormitory to check on Sacha's absence. As Pip peered quietly around the door into the dormitory he could see Jonathan's trunk already unpacked judging by the pile of clothes thrown on the upper bunk. The lower bunk was unoccupied. Jonathan was with the other boys in the dormitory, his summer aertex shirt already untucked from his too small shorts, swapping stories. The Fifth Formers did not notice Pip standing at the door until finally Jonathan looked around.

"Oh, we are all going swimming later. First dip of the year. Fancy joining us?"

"It will be jolly cold though."

"The first dip always is. That's half the fun! But it is sunny today, has been since last week. So should be above freezing."

"Only just, so I am not so sure about the fun bit, but yes. Is everyone going?"

"Mr Wallace said he would supervise. So yes I imagine so. After tea."

"After tea then."

Tea over and with no prep, the boys changed and made their way down to Chapel Cove, towels in hand. As it was still April the water was indeed painfully cold despite the sun warming the water, but most boys made it in. Pip soon found himself enjoying the swim with the other boys. So long as you kept moving you could keep warm.

The next day Sacha arrived mid-morning, escorted by his sister Sam. As soon as Sacha arrived, Mrs Porter came out and took charge of him.

"Sacha wasn't really up to it yesterday, were you, Sacha?"

Sacha looked darkly at his sister.

"I expect it's the jetlag and it's a bit of a wrench coming half way round the world to school isn't it? But you are okay now, aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss, fine."

Mrs Porter was not so convinced. She spoke to Sam. "Don't worry about your brother. I am going to be keeping an eye on him for the next couple of days." Mrs Porter smiled at Sacha. "I see you've got a bit of a scar there. Now take your kitbag up to your dorm. You'll need a hand with the trunk. We can deal with that after lunch."

As Sacha went inside, Mrs Porter turned to Sam.

"Has Sacha been okay this holiday? I hear he had suspected concussion."

"He was given a check up by our doctor in Hong Kong before leaving and given the all clear. I think his main problem is that he is homesick. Going back to Hong Kong unsettled him."

"Well, he is not the only homesick boy we have. They normally settle down once they meet up with their friends and classmates."

A car horn honked.

"Well, I had better be going. The taxi driver is signalling. I have a train to catch."

"Don't worry. He'll be perfectly all right. Give me a call if you want to check on him, and Peter of course. Big term for him as well."

It was not until evening that Pip managed to meet up with Sacha. After supper the boys traipsed down to the Cove mostly by dormitory, already changed into their uniform swimming trunks. Most, including Pip, wore their white tee shirts as, if any cloud came over, the air quickly chilled. At the top of the cove, the boys obediently stood around Mr Wallace. Pip stood towards the back of the group. Mr Wallace was keen on diving, Pip was not. Sacha had found himself in front along side the ever-hardy Jonathan, his tee shirt slightly too long for him. Predictably Jonathan was not wearing his tee shirt. Sacha instinctively stuck with Jonathan, as he would not let something happen to Sacha whilst he was around. Sacha turned briefly and finally spotted Pip and smiled, a slightly anxious smile, a white scar visible above his right eye.

All of the boys appeared to be listening eagerly as Mr Wallace lectured them on the School's most boasted of facility, its own private beach at Chapel Cove. Mr Wallace had chosen this location above the beach itself, as it was an old quarry, which now formed a natural auditorium enclosed by a semi-circle of low cliffs. In front of them was a flat rock ledge that stood above the water at a point where it was deep with a sandy bottom, a safe spot for diving from. Every so often a boy would peer nervously over the edge as Mr Wallace explained how they would enter the water.

"From here it is nine foot down to the water. Just run out and jump keeping your hands to your side and your legs straight. The water is quite deep, but don't worry. Mr Durrant is out there in the boat with the life belt for any of you who decide to sink." The boys laughed, some with bravado, some with a degree of fear. "And whilst we are all here and I have your attention, that includes you Johnson by the way..." Startled, Kit stopped playing with the cord on his trunks and affected to hang on every word from Mr Wallace. "... I will make my standard announcement. This is the only place where you will jump into the water. You must not jump farther along at Parson's Leap. The cliff there is much too high there and there are rocks hidden just below the water." Everyone's attention turned back to the rock on which they were now gathered. It was the standard way into the water for the boys. Mr Wallace stood by the jumping point, whistle in hand as if launching a team of crack parachutists into action with one blast from his whistle. Every thirty seconds or so Mr Wallace gave a short blast and another boy entered the water. Mr Wallace offered encouragement as he went.

"Come on, Owen. Take any longer and the rock will have eroded away."

The whistle blew and Owen launched himself surprisingly far out, forming a human ball that thunder clapped into the water, satisfyingly dumping a load of water onto Mr Durrant.

"Owen, you wretched boy."

Despite being at the back, Pip found himself going next, eager to get this particular ordeal out of the way. The whistle blew in his ear and Pip made a proficient if unspectacular regulation jump into the water. As he surfaced he gasped with cold and swam away from the diving zone to escape Peter Morgan's neat dive and to bring warmth to his rapidly chilling body in the warmer shallow water. As their numbers grew, Pip milled around with the other boys to keep warm taking his hand at capturing the large beach ball that bobbed in the air each time it was punched. Sacha was last after another surprisingly neat dive from Jonathan. Seeing it was Sacha, Pip suddenly lost interest in the game and swam to the edge of the diving zone as Sacha stood at the top. The whistle blew. Sacha did not move.

"Come on, Morgan, get a move on. The sooner you do it the easier it is."

The whistle blew again. Sacha tensed, but did not jump. He pulled at the bottom of his swimming trunks and turned to Mr Wallace, a pleading look on his face.

"Please, sir, do I have to?"

Suddenly everyone was watching. There was a silence as the other boys looked up at the spectacle. Some had sympathy for Sacha; others did not. Mr Wallace was sympathetic; he knew this was something Sacha had not done before.

"Come on, boy, it is not that bad. Even Owen managed it this year. Just run out and keep your arms to your sides. On the count of three and no stopping this time. One, two and three." The whistle blew sharply. Sacha ran up paused and then finally jumped. It was not a neat jump; he flailed the air as he went, making a massive splash as he hit the water in a jumble of arms and legs. Immediately the boy went under the seething water. There was a brief silence as everyone watched. After a moment's notice Peter swam rapidly to the spot where Sacha entered just as his brother surfaced to a chorus of coughing and spluttering, clearly floundering. In a couple of powerful strokes Peter was alongside his brother.

"It's okay, just relax." Peter closed in on his brother, still blowing salt bubbles from his nose. "Just lie back in the water, you'll float." Sacha ignored his brother's advice and continued to splash about, coughing and spluttering as the other boys watched his humiliation. Peter finally reached out to Sacha with his right hand as he trod water and handed him a lifebelt given to him by Mr Durrant.

"Come on, Sacha, you're in the water now. It's not that bad."

Sacha eagerly grabbed the lifebelt and held on to it mutely until he regained his composure and his breathing returned to normal. Peter trod water about two yards way from Sacha making sure that his brother could always see him, until he was sure that Sacha was recovered.

"All right now? Then give Mr Durrant the lifebelt back."

Sacha nodded. "I'm okay now, thanks."

Reassured, Peter swam back to the other boys using his easy, slick crawl, embarrassed by his brother's display. Once he had recovered his composure, Sacha swam over to the waiting boat where Mr Durrant took back the lifebelt. Pip hung around at a distance until Sacha swam away from the boat. There was no escape. Sacha had to swim around the boat to the beach to get out of the water, as Mr Durrant was not going to take a passenger in the boat unless he absolutely had to. Pip saw his chance. Peter had rejoined the game with the other boys throwing a giant beach ball to and fro.

"Come on, Sacha, let's go along under the cliff. You come out at Wicca Cove. We can go back that way. It's faster."

"Okay, thanks."

Sacha concentrated on his swimming. He was a boy who did not like water in his face, his swimming studied rather than relaxed. The two boys swam away from the remaining boys after telling Mr Durrant.

"We're going out of the water by Wicca Cove, sir."

"All right then, just stick together. I can see you most of the way."

As they swam together, Pip paused at the bottom of the tallest point of the cliff.

"Legend has it that this is where the parson leapt after he discovered that his second wife had been having an affair with the stable boy. The parson was never found. Can't see why. There are no rocks or anything here in the water.

"Perhaps he didn't drown. Perhaps he ran away?"

Sacha thought it through. "He probably took off and found another woman. It happens like that in Hong Kong. They disappear and then years later turn up in Bangkok or somewhere like that."

"I suppose that's possible, but there were no further sightings of him, nor the wife and stable boy. The wife and the stable boy went off to Newfoundland, so they say."

Sacha absorbed this information quietly as the boys paused, treading water and looked around. Pip, ever the scientific minded one and deep into his stock of Sherlock Holmes short stories, examined the area more closely.

"Look, you can see the rocks at the bottom, here and here. Over there though, it is just sand and pretty deep even now. You can see the high tide marks above us on the rocks. You can judge how deep it is. See the mackerel below us? If you stick this side, you will be fine if you were to dive here." Sacha listened to this in silence, thinking "He might have been swept away by the current though. At low tide it whips round here."

Sacha was more concerned about reaching the Cove that he still could not see as yet.

"How far is it? I am getting tired."

Pip moved to reassure Sacha. "We're nearly there. It's just past those rocks."

"Good."

The boys started to swim again. Eventually they reached the Cove and ran ashore.

"Enjoy that?"

"Not really. Do we do that every day?"

"Sure when the weather is okay and the sea not too rough. Means we get a good tan."

"I am not sure I need any more tan just now thank you very much."

That much was true. Sacha was already well tanned from an Easter holiday in Thailand. They ran up the path over to Chapel Cove to pick up their towels before walking back up to school, drying in the still hot sun as they went. Sacha had a question, a request. "Can we go out to St Ives or Penzance this weekend?" It was an option that had been on Pip's mind; he was overjoyed that Sacha had mentioned it first.

"Sure, although now the weather is good, we tend to hang around school more as we have the best beach for miles unless we go to Sennen."

"Sennen? Yes, I'd like that."

"Okay, this Sunday, weather permitting?"

"Great, let's do it."

"It might be my last chance to go there."

"Oh yes, this is the last term here for you."

"Yes it is." Pip's voice was bleak.

"I'll still be here though. You can come and visit I expect."

"Of course I can."

The weather remained benevolent all week. It was the end of the daily afternoon swim later a couple of days later. Peter climbed out of the water with the Johnson twins. They moved along the cliff edge until they were higher up and dived in. As they started swimming back to repeat the exercise, other boys joined in the diving practice. Seeing Sacha was still in the water with Pip, Peter issued a personal invitation.

"Hey, Sacha, come up here and join the rest of us."

"No thanks. I'm staying in the water."

"I said come up here or are you afraid to?"

Sacha looked daggers at his brother, especially when the Johnson twins, taking their cue from Peter, joined in.

"Yes, come on, Morgan. What's wrong with you?"

"What's the big fuss?"

Sacha looked reluctantly around him. He was not keen, but decided it was better to humour his older brother.

"Okay, I'm coming."

Pip followed to provide support. Attracted by all the shouting, Mr Durrant took an interest.

"What are you doing, Morgan?"

"We are jumping in from this point, sir."

Mr Durrant looked down in the clear water. He could not see any rocks, just sand.

"Have you checked what is under the water?"

"I have, sir. No rocks or anything and from here it is only about twelve foot into the water."

Mr Durrant looked over to Mr Wallace who was taking the remedial swimming class. Mr Wallace nodded. He had dived from there the other day.

"Okay then, but let me get a bit closer to where you plan to go in."

Mr Durrant took his oars and manoeuvred the boat out towards the point on the cliff where the boys were diving. One by one the senior boys began to jump or dive in. Pip being realistic about his diving abilities, jumped in, careful to keep his arms to his side to avoid the water stinging his armpits on contact. Sacha waited to last.

"Come on, Sacha."

Mr Durrant, supervising from the water, held his finger to his lips and glared at Peter.

"That won't help, will it?"

Embarrassed, Peter kept quiet as Sacha hesitated twice before the shouts of derision from the twins made him hurtle off the cliff into the water in an uncoordinated manner. The boy landed with a large splash. Even though he had done the jump no worse than many of the others, Peter still teased.

"Even a girl could do better than that."

As soon as he had recovered his breath, Sacha swam out a long way to escape the taunts from his brother and the twins and made his way to the beach. Once out of the water the boy grabbed his tee shirt and walked up by himself leaving everyone else behind, still diving or watching. Seeing Sacha leave, Pip left the water. Sacha waited at the top for Pip to catch him up. Pip was breathless by the time he had run up to the top.

"Don't worry. The jump looked no worse than many of the others."

"I want to practise my dives. I am not very good at this sort of thing."

"Okay."

"But not here. Do you know anywhere, where we could practise diving, somewhere where we are unlikely to see other boys from school?"

Pip thought about the request. "Mousehole, they dive off the quay there when the tide is in and the water is really warm. We could go there on Sunday."

"Okay, could we do that? I've not been there yet."

"Sunday then." It was a plan agreeable to both boys.

That Sunday the boys hitched a lift with Mr Wallace, as he was taking Owen to the train station. A warm weekend ensured that crowds of visitors were bustling around the town as they drove through Penzance. As Owen left for his train, Mr Wallace turned to Pip and Sacha.

"Make sure you are back in time, no later than 6 o'clock. I am on duty this evening."

Pip took responsibility for them both. "Yes, sir we will."

"Bye, sir. Thanks for the lift."

Ten minutes by bus and they were in Mousehole. The tide was still out, but on the turn as they arrived. The two boys walked to the end of the stone quay, crammed with cars, the fishermen's lobster pots and tackle. Sacha looked over the end. The water was currently about four foot deep and clear. Fish could be seen swimming beneath the water.

"It's not deep enough."

"Oh give it an hour or so and it will be fine. I dived here last year with Jonathan."

"Always with Jonathan, I mean last year you did everything with him, why not now?"

Pip lied. "Oh, no reason really. We are still friends. Just in different dormitories this year and so on."

"So am I. I mean a different dormitory and different year."

"True."

Pip changed the subject. "Let's go and get a pasty. The baker here does a good one."

The boys picked up their pasties and sat on the quay, legs hanging over the incoming tide. As they ate, they protected their food from the ever-hungry seagulls with their hands. All around day-trippers came into the picturesque harbour and walked around or made for the small sheltered beach within the harbour walls. Appetite satisfied, Pip walked to the end of the quay. The water was coming into the harbour mouth and was now some six feet deep. Some of the village boys were already jumping in from the opposite quay. Pip spotted a less daunting opportunity on the nearer quay.

"Let's go over there. We can use those steps. You can start three steps up, move up a step or so each time and in no time you will be diving twelve foot or more."

Sacha followed Pip's eyes. "That looks more like it." The boys walked down to the harbour beach and removed their shorts and tee shirts, leaving them on a convenient rock. They swam out over to the steps, no more than twenty yards away. At the steps Pip climbed out first, running his hands through his hair. Sacha followed. "Do you want to go first or shall I?"

"You go first. I prefer you to be in there waiting."

"Okay. Just choose a step you are comfortable with and dive in. Just push out with your legs as you go and aim down otherwise you will belly flop and that hurts."

Pip started at about three feet up. He concentrated on a clean dive in and surfaced just in time to see Sacha take his first dive from the same step. Sacha surfaced, a smile on his face, his freckles glowing in the hot sun.

"That was fine. Again?"

The boys climbed out of the water and went up the steps. This time Pip dived from two steps further up. Sacha followed him. As time went on Sacha's diving increased in confidence, his dives increasingly neat as he pushed off with more force each time. Sacha was glad that not too many people were paying any attention as the village boys were diving from the end of the quay, which was more than fifteen foot in height above the water.

Over the next hour the two boys dived in half a dozen times or more and were now at a height of eight foot above the water, two thirds of the way up the steps. When they climbed out after their latest dive, Pip thought it was now time to see whether Sacha was ready.

"Do you think you are on for the big one? The end of the quay? We can't go any further here. The fishing boats are moored under the steps higher up."

Sacha would have preferred to stay at the steps, but even he could see that the fishing boats were too close for safety. "Okay, let's take a look."

The two boys walked dripping along the quay to the end where a small knot of local boys were gathered. Sacha looked down. It was considerably higher up than their previous dives, but you could see the bottom, some small rocks visible a long way down. As they watched, one of the local boys dived in. He got nowhere near the bottom. It looked safe with no obvious obstacles, just the occasional fish swimming by, darting away at the first sign of human activity in the water. Pip himself was also well aware that the height of the dive was considerably more than they had been diving so far that afternoon, but probably no more than the dives off the rocks at Chapel Cove.

"I'll go first. Will you be okay?"

Sacha's teeth were chattering. Whether from cold or nerves, Pip could not tell.

"Only one way to find out isn't there?"

With that Sacha stepped up to the edge and once the boy below had made his way to the iron ladder, swung his arms out so that there was no going back. Using his legs Sacha launched himself off the quay and made a clean dive into the water. His head emerged from the water, which he threw back and yelled at Pip.

"Nothing to it, easy, it's great."

Pip stepped forward and looked down. The height scared him more than he cared to admit to himself. If it was not for Sacha, he might have backed out, but with Sacha present he quickly stood on the edge of the quay and sprung forward, bringing his hands in front of him as he followed Sacha into the water. Together they dived several times more before a glance at the clock on the harbour's edge told them that it was coming up for four o'clock. Time to think about leaving.

"Come on, we had start back. Otherwise we'll be late."

Sacha was enjoying himself, but obediently he swam over to the other side of the harbour with Pip to where their things were. Hurriedly the boys dried themselves and just made the next bus into Penzance. At Penzance they caught their bus back to The Rocks. As always they sat at the back of the bus with Sacha wedged in the corner. Sacha allowed Pip to place his arm around his back. Sacha did not object.

"That was a great day out, thanks."

"Glad you enjoyed it."

Sacha sat silently for a while. After a few minutes he turned to Pip. "I want to ask you to do something."

"Oh yes?"

"I want to make you a double dare."

Dares were still the rage that term. Despite his experience of nearly been caught with Pip last year, it had been a craze restarted by Jonathan, him of the fearless and crazy schemes that sometimes ended up with him in very hot water. Pip contemplated doing a double dare. He had only ever done it with Jonathan and that had been in return for a bribe. A double dare, it was not something he would expect from the normally cautious Sacha, as he would have to take one in turn.

"A double dare, what sort of double dare is that?"

"I want to jump into the water from the cliff again."

"Well, we can do that. You know you can dive now."

"It's not as simple as that. I want to make it a special dive, but first we have to prove it can be done away from the other boys. Just me and you, you know, just in case."

"But I'm not the best swimmer. Perhaps we ought to bring Jonathan along? He's a good swimmer."

"No, just you, for now."

Pip looked at his companion. To give himself time to think he bent down to tie his shoelace. As Pip did so, he stared intently into Sacha's deep-set eyes. Sacha was not one for pulling people's legs. There was seriousness about him, a sense of purpose about the boy.

"Okay, we will have to ask for permission and do it on Saturday. We often go swimming then if it's a warm day."

"I want to do it at Parson's Leap."

"Sacha! Come on, you know we won't get permission for that."

"That is why I want to do it secretly, without permission. I want to show Peter I can."

Now Pip began to understand Sacha. Proving himself to Peter was very important to him. Pip looked again at the now very earnest younger boy.

"You're kidding. We can't do that. You know it's against school rules. It must be at least twice as high as the Chapel Cove jump and the ones we have just been doing in Mousehole."

Sacha looked Pip sharply in the eyes. His cheeks glowed. His blood was raised.

"That's why it is a double dare. Come on, yes we can, when no one else is there."

"Won't that defeat the object? I mean if no one else is there?"

"Once we have done it, we can invite some of the other boys down and do it again."

"Oh, a challenge you mean? And just when exactly?"

"That's it. A secret challenge, perhaps once a year. An initiation if you like."

Pip wanted to raise more objections. If anyone found out, he knew it would result in mass punishment, but the intense earnestness on Sacha's face made him keep his own thoughts on the matter quiet to avoid the risk of alienating his friend.

"Well, I suppose so. What's the idea then?"

Pip was very reluctant. He was scared to do the jump, even though he and Sacha had already worked out where to do it to avoid the rocks.

"Good, so you will do it, will you? I want to prove I can do it and then do it in front of the others later. You'll help me, won't you? I need you there to be the witness and to dive with me."

Pip realised that Sacha was deadly serious and had worked out a plan. A private practice first and then put on a public display of bravado, in front of everyone so no one would question his bravery again.

"I will have to think about it."

Sacha reached out and put his arm on Pip's. "Come on, it will be fun. Afterwards I am sure we could get a few boys together and get them to do the challenge as well when no teachers are about."

Pip thought about it and quickly abandoned any misgivings he might have in order to prove his loyalty to Sacha. "Well, I suppose so, but when were you thinking of this trial?"

"Tomorrow night. It's a full moon and there will be a high tide. That way we could do it when no one else is around. Tomorrow afternoon we can swim back round via Wicca Cove, double check where the rocks are, leave our towels there behind some bushes and put some marker stones on top of the cliff as a sort of guide if you like."

Now Pip began to understand the enormity of Sacha's plans. A night time dive from Parson's Leap.

"At night? It's dangerous enough during the day, but at night, all sorts could go wrong."

"No, it will be okay. It's full moon, remember, and we can double check in the afternoon," Sacha pleaded. "I only asked you because I thought you would help me. Please."

The earnestness in the boy's voice told Pip just how important this whole caper was to Sacha.

"No wait, if you are going to break the school rules, I suppose you might as well break all of them all at one go. You know you won't be sitting comfortably if we ever get found out?"

"Oh I know that." Pip felt the situation slipping out of his control. "I know. They can only kill you once. Besides, I bet you have broken quite a few school rules before, haven't you?"

"Not recently. Not getting caught that is. That's why it is a double dare if you like."

"Okay, you've got me. I will join in your madcap plan. Few would."

Sacha smiled. "I knew I could count on you, thanks."

*****

Chapter 11 - Summer Term 1968

The instructions for the planned rendezvous found their way into Pip's locker. ' _PL 12mn. S x_.' Pip took a while to decipher the message. Then it came to him. Parson's Leap, ' _PL_ ', ' _12mn_ ' was midnight. S was obviously for Sacha. The _x_ would puzzle Pip for several years until he finally realised in a spasm of despair one night that it might have been the one true sign of devotion he would ever receive from Sacha. A simple x represented something he was too naive to recognise at the time. He hoped that the messenger (for he was sure that Sacha would not dare to enter his dormitory for fear of his brother) would not guess the meaning. Whatever it meant, Pip knew it was significant. Sacha had signalled something to him, something he had never dared hope for.

By unwritten agreement Pip and Sacha avoided each other that Sunday, Pip with Clancy, Sacha with Peter. Clancy was a good choice; together they headed into St Ives, eager to visit the second hand bookshops. After their return Pip headed for an afternoon swim with some of the other Sixth and Fifth Form boys. Pip left the water early that afternoon and dried himself in the sun to keep his towel dry. With the dry towel he walked along the cliff top path from Chapel Cove to Wicca Cove via Parson's Leap. Sacha had already been there. A couple of rocks either side rested on the recently mown grass. These indicated the safest area to jump in from Parson's Leap. The piles were small, inconspicuous unless you were looking for them. With no one else about, Pip carefully checked the location of the rocks. He lay on his stomach and gingerly looked over the cliff top. It was a sheer drop, the sea a dizzyingly long way below. For ten minutes Pip studied the water. It was a calm day. In the water he could see fish swimming and no sign of rocks at this point, just grey, white and blue sand reflecting back the light. Either side only a few yards away were the rocks the boys had been warned of. On getting up, Pip looked around and carefully removed any stray stones and added them to the pile. The piles were more obvious this way, but Pip wanted to be doubly sure. He took the bench as his marker and paced out the distance to the south along the path. Five good paces, from here he was more or less between the two sets of stones. Pip now had a second way of checking that they were in the right spot. Having checked out the rocks and location to his satisfaction, Pip hid his towel in the bracken just behind the bench that overlooked the view and returned to school. Midnight was two and a half hours after lights out for the Sixth Formers. By then even the staff would be in bed. Pip spent the evening, when he should have been revising, thinking out his excuse if he was caught leaving the dormitory. What they would say if caught on their return he had no idea. Perhaps they would have to stay out all night?

Bedtime could not come soon enough. Pip lay on his top bunk reading another _Sherlock Holmes_ story, guilty in the knowledge it was not on his list of books to read. He had just exchanged the briefest of nods with Sacha earlier as they climbed the stairs after Mr Durrant shooed the older boys to bed.

After lights out Pip tried, but failed to sleep. His anticipation left him exhausted and restless. Despite himself, Pip found himself checking and rechecking his watch, still on his wrist, every five minutes or so. Finally, certain that it was near the agreed time of midnight, Pip eased himself silently from his bunk, out of the dormitory as if going to the toilet and crept down to the bottom of the stairs. As Pip left, one of the twins stirred slightly as he turned over to lie on his stomach. Pip froze for ten seconds until he was satisfied that it was just Kit shifting position and then quietly opened the dormitory door and then shut it behind him until he heard the 'snick' of the lock engaging. On the way downstairs Pip looked at the door of Sacha's dormitory. It was shut, like all the others. Pip wondered briefly whether to look inside, but that might alert the other boys, particularly Jonathan. Instead he crept downstairs. Was Sacha in front or behind him? The answer was at the door. It was wedged open a fraction with the doormat. The doormat wedge kept the noise down both on leaving and when they re-entered. Sacha must be ahead of him, unless someone else was outside. Pip peeped out of the small window to one side. No sign of lights or movement. It took Pip three anxious minutes of waiting, listening to silence, before he dared open the door. There was no sign that Sacha was out there. In a sick thought Pip thought of an alternative. It was a trick, a stunt to catch him out and Sacha was safely upstairs. Pip thought to turn around and check, but then, if he did not leave now, Sacha would think it was he who was playing tricks. Better to go on, even though Pip was increasingly uncertain. Why hadn't they agreed to meet inside downstairs? But then Pip remembered the instructions to meet at Parson's Leap. Having reassured himself, Pip pulled the door open and looked out making sure that he made no sound as Mr Durrant's office was just to the side of the entrance, the window dark.

There was nothing obvious outside. In trepidation Pip ventured out. He had his excuses ready. 'I thought I heard a window break.' He hoped this would see him through. In the end it was unnecessary as no one, teacher or boy, challenged him, only his own fear. Pip realised had never been out like this in the middle of the night by himself. It took Pip nearly a minute to ease the door fully open. His efforts were greeted with a sigh of warm air as the leaves rustled on the trees. Once outside Pip upped his tempo and walked on the grass in his bare feet following the shadows around the far side of the senior dormitory block, crouching under the windows of Mr Durrant's quarters and onto the barn with the gym and assembly hall.

Going along the side of the barn, Pip was conscious that he was visible from both dormitory blocks. So he crouched down to stay half hidden by the rhododendrons in the flowerbeds until he reached the end of the barn. Now Pip realised he was at the trickiest bit. There was no more vegetation to hide in. He had to cross the first lawn in full sight of the school. After a moment's pause, a glance behind him, Pip summoned the courage to set forth. From the barn he quickly walked down the steps to the playing field and made his way around the edge in the shadows. Barefoot he made this part of his journey at a half crouching run in almost complete silence, a silence only intruded upon by the slow circle of sounds from the trees and in the distance, the faint sound of the sea. Eventually his circuitous journey took Pip to the cliff top via the ancient dovecote and burial mound. It was the first place Pip had ever taken Sacha the previous term. By the Celtic cross sat the small form of Sacha looking out to sea. He was next to one of the benches, his shadowy form merged with it. The boy was sat on the ground, cross-legged in his pyjamas in the balmy night air, in a state of meditative silence. The younger boy had adopted a pose of near religious intensity, totally focussed, his mind blotting out everything other than the sea in front of him. Pip must have made some slight noise as Sacha suddenly turned around, eyes wide, lips and hair jet black in the moonlight.

Pip put his finger to his lips in a sign to keep quiet and then joined Sacha, sitting down quietly next to his friend. For a while the two boys sat together in silence next to the bench on the top of the cliff. The wind was still warm and humid, soft in its passage past the two boys. Below, the water lapped and sucked on the rocks. As it was night, it sounded strange, a different world. Eventually Sacha nestled closer, his first act of acknowledging Pip's presence.

"You made it."

"Finally. It took a while, as I was trying not to make any noise."

"Me too."

Startled by the boys talking, a dove from the school's dovecote fluttered in to land near the two boys. Sacha softly called the bird over, beckoning with his hand as if he had food in it. Pip checked; Sacha's hand was empty. Still the dove came over, tame enough to accept Sacha's invitation, even without food. The bird approached close enough for Sacha to gently pick up the bird and cradle it in his hands. The dove cooed gently. Pip could sense the smaller form of Sacha beside him, warm and dry, his pyjama trousers flapping in the gentle breeze. Pip could sense the younger boy's eyes blinking with tiredness and felt his hand reach and hold Sacha's sleeve in reassurance.

The dove, calmed by the stillness of his captor, settled down still cooing. Eventually it rested its head along its back, as if to sleep until Sacha finally opened his hands and threw the bird up. Startled the bird made a swift exit from the scene with a rapid burst of movement from its wings. Sacha stood up and turned around to face Pip as if to uncoil himself from the depths of impending sleep.

"Well, we have something to do. Are you ready?"

There was no pre-amble; no thought had been given to any preparation, just a desire to get on with the dare. Secretly Pip was happy to get this bit over with. To his surprise Sacha was very purposeful in leading the way, showing none of his normal modesty. In a single swift tug to the cord Sacha's pyjama trousers dropped to his ankles and he stepped out of them as he removed his jacket. Sacha's skin glowed in the dark, the mark of the sun visible as tan marks around his middle. His body was all curves and ripples where muscles flexed. True, almost everything was hidden in the gloom of the night, but Pip still found himself being slightly coy when he removed his nightclothes.

"Okay, let's get it over with. You look as though you need your beauty sleep."

The silence resumed. Sacha was ahead of him. Despite the rush of adrenaline, Pip was feeling the warm breeze, the whisper and rattle of the trees mingled with the lap of the sea below come together in a symphony of sleep. Pip felt his head begin to bow and eyes close. He began to hope that this was just a test of friendship. Perhaps they could just go back to the school? His doubts lasted a fraction of a second as Sacha moved towards the stones, feeling his way with his feet, the moonlight gleaming off his ghostly form. Pip stood up. Purposefully he paced out the distance from the bench. It was five yards. The stones, luminous in the moonlight, were still in position. Satisfied, Pip stood alongside, but slightly behind Sacha. Together they looked around, particularly at the school in the distance, partly hidden just behind the burial mound, conscious that they were now silhouetted against the moon, something they had not thought of when making the plans on Saturday afternoon.

"It looks okay. I checked this afternoon."

"That's why you paced it?"

"It was my double check."

"Clever."

Sacha sensed that the time was now. There was a note of huskiness in his voice. It was new, commanding.

"Come on. Let's go."

Sacha prised himself away from Pip's shadow, then reached back, taking Pip by the hand in urgency. Pip gave ground and followed him, two boys barefoot and naked as they walked across the moonlit grass away from the barely visible path. Together the two boys stood between the two piles of stones Sacha had left earlier that day. This was the point where everyone stood to look out to sea. Here the waves were more spirited, the sound of the shingle sweep of the cove to the south followed by the crash of waves at the foot of the cliffs immediately below them.

"This is going to make history."

"Come on."

Pip felt Sacha tug him by the hand, holding tight.

"Together."

Sacha's urgency was suddenly followed by his reassuring calm. "Now."

"Sacha, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" Pip mustered arguments and could only think of one pathetic automatic response of the obedient. He did not feel a rebel. Perhaps Sacha did.

"It's forbidden to jump here. It's too high, remember. That rule is for our safety."

It was simple; it was all Pip could think to say. Sacha was not convinced. Pip used his greater weight to hold them still. Sacha tugged again, backwards a few feet. They needed a run-up; they were too close to the cliff edge at the moment.

"We checked when we swam past yesterday remember? There are no rocks right here, just sand deeper than anyone could dive to."

"But it's never been done."

Sacha paused only very briefly; he had made his mind up. It was to be the ultimate in dares. The mythical triple dare that no one had ever done. Impatience was entering his voice, so far, so close. The boys continued back another two steps.

"We are going to do it right now. On the count of three, we go as fast as we can." Sacha held Pip's hand tightly, as he did the counting. Pip sucked in as much breath as he could. This was absolute madness, yet so right, a signal, a statement that no one would be able to refute in the future. The two of them had done something so brave, so reckless that it would be a school legend long after they had gone.

"One."

Suck.

"Two."

Another swell of Pip's lungs. He found he could not hold in any air as fear was gripping him, the unreality and madness of this joint venture. Sacha gave a slight tug with his hand; it was now sweaty in anticipation.

"Three."

They ran hard, hand in hand. Pip's hesitancy cancelled by Sacha's commanding tug, joined in loyalty, fear and fate. Five steps, each faster than the other. Pip looked ahead; he did not want to look down.

Suddenly on the sixth, there was no ground under Pip's left foot. He felt the cliff scrape violently down the back of his ankle, but his right leg was already propelling forward. Sacha's fingers clawed into Pip's skin. He had gone further forward so was clear of the cliff and pulling Pip forward with him. Pip's own fingers were probably doing the same. Yells of exultation and fear as they plunged down. The wind ripping the sound from their youthful lungs as the waves approached all too quickly. Pip remembered the sea hitting harder than the sun-baked soil. He hit something with blinding crack as he entered. Black, red and white flashed by his eyes as salt water bubbled into his nose and a different saltiness crossed his lips. Suddenly he was underwater, Sacha torn from his grasp as he instinctively stirred into a kicking action as the sea pulled him in. Pip desperately kicked his way to the still boiling surface. There was a silence, apart from the complex rhythm of the waves. The only interruption was the cries of annoyance from the resting seagulls and then Sacha's voice.

"Pip! Pip, where are you?"

Pip coughed and spluttered, shaking his head, a ringing sound dominated, his sight obscured by the hair plastered across his forehead.

"Over here."

Sounds of splashing, some distance away.

"Where, tell me where!"

Pip shook his head again, the stars faded, his hearing stopped echoing and he was aware that Sacha was swimming towards him.

"I hit something when I entered the water. I think I'm okay." A sharp pain at the back of his ankle, another pain on the side of his head. Sacha was now alongside him. The boys bobbed in the sea, treading water until they were fully recovered. Pip looked around, his eyes adjusted to the light.

"We were mighty close to those rocks. We had better get out and back before people start to notice."

"No, I think we just drifted that way since we entered the water over there, I am sure."

Sacha indicated a spot some ten yards further west from where they were. The boys began swimming towards Wicca Cove. There was some blood; Pip could taste it. At the Cove, the boys climbed out exulted and made their way up the steep shingle to the path that led up to the top of the cliffs. At the bench Pip took about a minute to find his towel hidden in the bracken behind. In hurried silence Pip quickly wiped his face before giving the towel to Sacha. Modesty returned. So the boys turned their backs to each other, taking turns to rub themselves dry. Once more or less dry Pip and Sacha donned their pyjamas and made for the school, any thoughts of further activities abandoned.

By the time they reached the main school building, they were only slightly damp. Carefully, they shut the front door and crept back upstairs.

"Night."

"Night then."

Sacha turned, hesitated, looked into Pip's eyes.

"Thanks."

Pip wanted more, so much more, but by now Sacha had turned and was gently easing down the door handle to his dormitory. They exchanged one final look as Sacha, finger to his lips, shut the door behind him. Pip went up the final flight of stairs and returned his towel to the bathroom before he re-entered his dormitory. There was silence apart from the sound of someone turning at the other end, but that was normal, Pip told himself as he quietly buried himself under the covers.

The next morning Pip was sporting a gash to the back of his calf. Matron was not pleased, as there was blood on his towel when he came out from the shower.

"What have you been up to?"

"Sorry, Matron, I slipped in the bathroom in the middle of the night."

"And did you check your sheets?"

"No, miss."

"Well go back up and get them. They are probably messed up with blood as well."

Matron was not totally convinced of his story of slipping in the bathroom, but she said no more. Boys often came in sporting minor injuries; it was part of school life at their age.

Chastened, Pip missed assembly as he stripped his bed. He glimpsed Sacha as he headed to the first lesson of the day. Sacha was grinning broadly, their shared secret now their bond.

That afternoon was cricket. The Rocks was engulfed in the humid heat of a warm May day. The senior boys were split into two for two games of cricket. Although Pip had tried out for the First Game at the beginning of term he found himself back in the Second Game. At least there was an advantage; Pip was in the same game as Sacha with Jonathan.

In charge of the Second Game was Mr Barnes. Mr Barnes preferred to take the much more leisurely Second Game than any other as there were some trees to shelter under at the edge of the pitch and a gentle sea breeze to cool things.

As usual the Second Game drifted along with the boys slowly building up runs and the occasional four being scored. For this particular game Sacha and Pip found themselves in the same team. With his lightning fast reactions and general confidence with a ball, Sacha was a natural wicket keeper. Pip took to the opportunity to practise his bowling, a long looping run, carefully marked out as he headed to his mark and let fly. Sacha took two wickets as Pip bowled before handing over responsibility to Owen and heading to the outfield near the boundary where he was rarely troubled by the ball.

This game was going to last all week unless things went wrong. By the following afternoon, the opposing team was out and Pip went in opposite Sacha as the opening pair. Together they scored nine runs before Pip ran himself out in a typical display of overconfidence. Sacha remained longer, but was caught out near the boundary, just missing a fourth four in his final over. Still his score of 21 was creditable compared to Pip's five.

On Wednesday the First XI were away at a match. In the Second Game Pip and Sacha were now freed from cricketing duties. So they sat together under the shade of an oak tree, adjacent to Mr Barnes, a spot chosen deliberately by Pip.

Sitting in companionable silence for a few minutes, Pip hatched a plan to go off alone with Sacha. This afternoon was the ideal time to do so as many of the staff had gone off to Truro with the First Team to see them play.

"Sacha? Let's see if we can get permission to go exploring up into the fields at the back."

"What for?"

"Oh, we will say we are looking for caterpillars and stuff."

Sacha continued chewing on a stem of grass as he contemplated this invitation. The smell of newly mown grass and humid Cornish vegetation was making him think of home. He and Pip had not been alone together since their nocturnal escapade the previous weekend. Watching a slow, poorly executed game was boring. A chance for adventure with Pip was more attractive.

"Do you think it will be okay? Mr Barnes might not be too pleased."

"Oh no, so long as you are there to bat or field it's okay. When we say we are looking for caterpillars, he will agree. He is a bit of a naturist." Sacha looked sideways at Pip, not hiding a broad grin. Pip looked puzzled.

"Naturalist, naturists take their clothes off, but of course, with Mr Barnes who knows? It's always possible!"

Pip laughed at the idea of a wrinkly, saggy teacher like Mr Barnes wandering amongst the butterflies naked. Sacha looked puzzled. Was what he said that funny? It took several minutes to get the vision out of Pip's head.

"Oh, okay, naturalist then, but would you like to come? Mr Barnes doesn't like boys going off by themselves, even Sixth Formers."

Sacha thought about it again. An outing with Pip seemed a much more entertaining afternoon than watching a painfully slow game of indifferent cricket.

"What if we are needed?"

"Oh, that's all right, so long as you are in ear shot of his whistle. We can get back in a few moments.

"Okay then."

Pip waited until the end of the over before he went up to Mr Barnes, who was acting as umpire, sitting on his shooting stick, giving orders in a mock exasperated voice to a swarm of boys who milled around mostly without purpose. Mr Barnes looked at Pip.

"Sir, can we go and find some caterpillars, sir?"

Pip had Sacha at his side. Mr Barnes looked at the two boys, saw who 'we' were, thought of the risks of these two and then, feeling magnanimous, gave his consent.

"Be back here at four with some interesting specimens. I wouldn't like to think that you were just shirking." Owen looked at Mr Barnes, pleading. "Owen, stay put, you wouldn't know a caterpillar from a dung beetle and besides I have yet to see your corrected English essay from yesterday."

Owen, hurt, sat down in the shady spot Pip and Sacha had just vacated and turned to his ink blotched exercise book, all thought of escape abandoned.

"Four o'clock, mind."

Nearly two hours.

The two boys walked off, Pip in the lead, going as nonchalantly as he could manage. From the pitch Jonathan watched from the wicket, bat in hand, waiting to for a new bowler to be chosen. Jonathan felt a sense of jealousy. Last year it would have been him who went with Pip, not Sacha. Out of curiosity Jonathan resolved to sneak off and follow them as soon as he was out.

There was a gap just behind the tree where the boys could get through the wire fence. From the back there was a scramble that connected to a little used path that wound its way up over the coast road to another towards Trendrine that loomed above the school. Now that it was just the two of them alone, Pip felt his heart in his mouth. He had persuaded Sacha to come to a place where they would be alone together hidden in an area of rough common and gorse at the bottom of Trendrine. Pip had explored this spot many times during the last four summers with Jonathan. Pip led the way. They climbed the steep slope up to the coast road mostly in silence.

"He won't let anyone wander off like this."

Sacha looked at Pip, a blade of grass in his mouth and another sweeping in front of him, eyes concentrating on the path in front of him, kicking the gravel with the toe of his shoe, taking care to avoid tripping over the roots of the trees that stood proud of the surface. The pair reached the St Ives to Zennor road. Before they went across (the road), Pip walked out into the middle of the road and looked up and down to make sure that no other teachers or school staff were about. Strictly speaking, they were now out of bounds, but Mr Barnes had given his approval.

"Come on, slow coach."

"What's the hurry?"

"Oh, you'll see."

Coast clear, the boys quickly crossed the road, tarmac freshly melting in some spots, climbed over an old stile and headed towards the heath land. The path steepened until they came to another wall, which had a set of protruding stones as a set of steps. The boys climbed up and over. Pip again paused at the top to scan their route to see that no one was following and then looked ahead, not to the path that went east, but to the north where the gorse and brambles grew thick. The field beyond was once used for growing daffodils, but was now uncultivated, alive with bracken, bushes and trees, ideal for disappearing into. The boys walked about five yards up the path until there was a slight break in the vegetation.

"Does anyone come here?"

"Not many, I imagine. Too much gorse and bracken. People stick to the path. Move off the path up here and you are on your own."

'On your own.' Sacha played that thought in his mind. Pip stepped up onto the stone wall and surveyed the scene before spotting what he was looking for. In the distance a clump of trees grouped together to shelter from the persistent westerly wind and at their foot a darker patch of bracken signalling a narrow cutting through which ran a stream. After memorising a couple of stunted trees en route, Pip led the way through the overgrown field. Carefully he picked a circuitous route, almost doubling back at one point. Pip held his finger to his mouth.

"Shssh." The boys stopped, looked around and listened intently. "No one here, but we must be very quiet."

Sacha was rather enjoying this game, his previous doubts forgotten for now. With Sacha always at his back Pip made doubly sure that he did not let any of the branches snap back in his friend's face. In the spirit of conspiracy they whispered to each other. At the harder parts Pip reached back. Sacha let him take his hand. Pip took his time in letting go; Sacha acquiesced to this physical contact between the two.

"It's like being behind enemy lines. Make sure we leave no tracks."

This game of commandos appealed to both of the boys, as they moved up the slope slowly zigzagging as they went, making their escape from the path. Every so often Pip looked behind him to check that they were now well and truly invisible to the rest of mankind, marked only by the occasional roar of a passing vehicle on the road below and in the distance of the sound of leather on willow from the cricket. It took the boys five minutes to reach their target, a large clump of gorse bushes leading down to the stream dribbling down the hillside.

Pip hunted around the clump and quickly found two of the more common caterpillars in the area and carefully stuck them on a large leaf to gorge themselves.

"That's our task done for the afternoon. We can relax now."

After one last careful scan Pip was sure they remained alone. He then knelt on all fours and sent Sacha ahead. With Sacha leading, the two boys crept through a narrow space between two clumps of bracken. For the final stretch they took off their gym shoes and socks and walked carefully up the brook, ankle deep in clear water between the bracken, until they reached a smooth piece of rock that was surrounded by thick bracken in all directions. The only point of access was the stream they had just walked up, the route further up the stream blocked by a thick tangle of gorse bushes. The space was ideal; a dogleg meant they were now completely hidden from view both up and downstream.

Sacha appreciated the nature of Pip's chosen place.

"No one can see us here. It's perfect."

Pip removed his shirt, now wet with sweat. Without being prompted, Sacha did likewise; his hair was damp, a single trickle of sweat making its way down his neck from behind his ear. The boys sat on the rock in silence for a while, both with their knees cradled in their arms. Sacha waited for something to happen. Pip decided to lie back on his shirt and absorb the atmosphere.

"Let's soak up the sun."

There was not a lot of room for both of them. So Pip moved over slightly to make space beside him as he lay on his back looking into the infinity of the azure sky above them, his head resting in the crook of his arm. Sacha joined him, lying on his side, a blade of grass between his lips, his head resting on his arm. Sacha's deep-set eyes flickered with drowsiness in the humid heat. Using his right hand Pip gently swept Sacha's hair out of the boy's eyes. Sacha smiled. This close he could see the fine hairs all over Pip's body. Pip put his left arm behind Sacha's neck and pulled him closer. They lay together in silence. Sacha was close enough for Pip to feel his warm breath on his cheek, his hair soft on his shoulder. Sacha looked up into Pip's eyes. He was not objecting, his head now rested on Pip's chest one arm under Pip's neck as Pip held him, his left arm around the younger boy's upper back, gently stroking his side, the right now running through his hair. Sacha relaxed. Pip felt the goose bumps on the younger boy's back, the boy's muscles relaxing as he moved his hand onto the boy's lower back. Sacha acquiesced to Pip's gentle touch. Sacha fluttered with his unspoken agreement, snuggling into Pip as if seeking sanctuary. Slowly the expectancy in the air increased as the two boys silently absorbed the sound of nature at its most fecund around them. Although it could be heard in the surrounding trees, no breeze penetrated their hideout.

The two boys lay together as Pip took the lead, the silence increasing in volume. In the distance seagulls squawked and trees rustled in the wind. Down below in their hiding place a spell was being created, a spell cast that enveloped the two boys, isolating them from the world outside. Now it was just the two of them and the blue sky above. To speak would have broken the silence, broken the spell that surrounded them, isolating them from the rest of the world. The inn in Ardvasar. Sacha remembered he had experienced these sensations before.

Far below, treading carefully so as not to make a noise, Jonathan followed their tracks until he reached a point where he could go no further. He was certain they were somewhere within, hidden from view. Jonathan hunkered down and listened hard but could hear nothing, but he _knew_ something was going on between Pip and Sacha.

There was a silence between Pip and Sacha as the boys enjoyed the sun, still entangled. Eventually Pip looked at his watch. Time was moving on. Gently he kissed Sacha on his forehead, a chaste kiss of affection.

"We have to go."

The talking broke the spell. Pip was worried in case their absence would attract attention and bring people out to look. He sat up and gently squeezed Sacha's hand.

"We had better get back. Best not to say anything to anyone. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

Sacha was conscious he would like to come up here again, but now they would have to move to stop anyone talking about their absence. Jonathan heard the sounds of movement and began to retreat down the slope, keeping low to avoid being spotted. He certainly had something to tell Peter later on.

The two boys carefully removed the grass from their games kit before picking up the now sated caterpillars on their way out of the hide out to provide Mr Barnes with some evidence of their intended activities.

As they reached the road, Pip felt a sharp pain in his stomach, but it went just as quickly. By the time they reached the playing fields, the twinge returned. Suddenly Pip doubled up with a searing pain in his lower stomach, his eyes watering. Sacha looked concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"It's a twinge in my stomach. Must be something I ate."

Pip straightened up. Sacha looked him in the eye.

"Oh, perhaps you ought to see Matron?"

"Maybe." Pip's voice was husky and dark.

Mr Barnes did not notice Jonathan sneak back through a different opening in the hedge. He was more concerned about why Pip and Sacha had taken considerably longer than they had said in the field. He questioned them when they returned.

"So the caterpillars were particularly elusive today, were they?"

"Oh yes, sir, we had to search all over for them."

"Well, perhaps you had better put them down amongst some leaves over there and then get back for tea."

"Yes, sir, of course, but I am not really hungry."

"That's not like you, Pip. Not feeling well?"

"A stomach ache. I am sure it will pass though."

"Good, well get going. We are in danger of being late."

Pip sat in virtual silence during tea eating little, trying to ignore the spasms that were increasing in frequency and intensity. Since it was one of Mrs Prince's days off, Peter sat on her Fifth Form table at the opposite end to Sacha. The boys were discussing cricket.

"Mr Barnes is more interested in smoking than acting as umpire. He let two wides pass and he keeps changing the definition of the boundary, depending on who is batting and how each team is doing."

"Well, he does like to even things up."

Jonathan took advantage of the discussion amongst the others to lean close to Peter in conspiracy.

"Your brother went up Trendrine this afternoon with Cox."

"Really? Whatever for?"

"To collect caterpillars according to Owen. But they were gone for a long time. So long I went to have a look."

Peter looked sharply at Jonathan and lowered his voice.

"And?"

Jonathan knew to tread carefully.

"I didn't actually see anything, but they were hidden away for a good hour I would say."

Peter chewed on his sandwich, a frown on his face.

"I don't want to hear you tell this to anyone else, understand?"

"Okay, I won't."

Peter decided that he would talk to Sacha alone at some point; he feared his brother was getting in a bit too deep with Pip.

Suddenly there was a loud scrape of chairs. This meant the end of teatime so the boys began to file out in an orderly manner under the watchful eyes of Mr Durrant and Mr Wallace. On the Sixth Form table Pip had eaten hardly anything and hardly spoken a word. As Pip left the dining room into the sunlight, an acute spasm attacked him.

"Oh," was all he could muster as he found his vision fading to white as a shaft of pain went right through his middle. Pip instinctively made for the door, but as he reached for the door pillar to prop himself up his head started to spin and then he was down on his knees retching violently.

"Yuk!"

"Sir, Cox has been sick."

Around him a hubbub of boys gathered struggling to avoid the mess. Sacha was ahead of them, but he heard the commotion and saw Pip huddled on the floor; he had no time for more as Mr Durrant ordered them on.

"You boys stop gawping and get to prep."

Mr Wallace was quickly on the scene. He shouted at the boys still remaining in the dining hall.

"Stop right where you are! Stay still for a minute. Don't crowd round now. Mr Durrant?"

Mr Durrant immediately saw that Pip was being violently sick, an occupational hazard at a boarding school and called for assistance.

"Matron, I think your attentions are needed here."

Matron took one look at the pale shivering form of Pip as he doubled up in pain clutching his stomach and knew she wanted him in sickbay.

"You boys, come round this way."

Mr Durrant shooed the remaining boys away through the side door as quickly as he could so Matron could examine the boy now lying on the floor curled up in pain clutching his stomach. First Matron checked Pip's pulse rate, which was very rapid and then his forehead, which was dripping with sweat. As calmly as she could she took control of the situation.

"Oh Pip, you are running a really high temperature. Off to sickbay with you this minute. Mr Wallace, if you would be so kind?"

Accompanied by Matron, Mr Wallace quickly took Pip in his arms and carried him in to the sickbay. Pip was too sick to answer any questions as Matron took his temperature. As he lay on the bed he doubled up in pain and clung to the blanket. Mrs Porter came in as soon as she heard the news from Mr Durrant and went for the telephone.

"I think we had better ask the doctor to come over straight away, Matron."

Matron agreed; this was no upset stomach. On hearing the symptoms, the doctor came within twenty minutes.

"Hmm, let's have a look, shall we?"

Very gently the doctor felt Pip's lower stomach. When he reached the lower right hand side, Pip screamed in pain and nearly passed out. Matron reached over and put a calming hand on his brow. Pip was burning. The conclusion was obvious. He stood up and turned to Mrs Porter and Matron.

"Get a blanket. We'll take him to the hospital in my car. I don't want to wait any longer."

The doctor scribbled down a number and gave it to Mrs Porter.

"You can help to speed things up if you will."

"Of course."

"Call the admissions department straightaway. Tell them that we have a boy with suspected acute appendicitis coming in the next half hour. They need to call out Mr Green. I need a second opinion right away."

*****

Chapter 12 - Summer Term 1968

Anxiously Captain Porter waited outside the casualty unit at the Penzance hospital as nurses and doctors walked in and out in a quiet purposeful manner, their faces giving no clues as to the drama taking place behind the double swing doors. Inside Pip was barely conscious in the consulting room. He lay pale and sweating with a high temperature doubled up in pain despite the painkillers he had been given. His mind drifted from the reality of the pain and the cream and white windowless room to wild dreams of over amplified voices echoing around his head. The door was ajar so the sister on duty could keep an eye on him. She had seen plenty of cases like his. Appendicitis. They were just waiting for Mr Green to confirm the diagnosis and the operating room to become vacant.

In a great flurry Mr Green arrived out of the wet of a thunderstorm and made straight for the casualty unit, still dripping. He hung his coat behind the door and put on his white cloak before carefully and thoroughly washing his hands.

"Well, what have you for me tonight, nurse?"

"Philip Cox, a 12 year old boy, high fever, cramps, very tender in the lower right abdomen."

"Right, well, let's just double check, just in case it isn't what we all think it is. Has he eaten or drunk anything in the last few hours?"

"Not since tea at 5pm. His Headmaster Captain Porter is outside."

"Oh, The Rocks. We have our son down for there. Let's have a look then."

"This way. He's called Pip by the way."

Mr Green walked through the door into the room with the sister where Pip was lying, neither asleep nor awake.

"Hello, Pip. I am Joseph Green. It's my job to sort you out." Pip was not really up to talking. "Now don't you worry about making polite conversation. You probably don't feel up to it just at the moment by the look of it." Mr Green felt Pip's brow. "Hmm, what was the reading the last time you checked?"

"104, about an hour ago."

"Okay then, let's have a little look, shall we? Sister."

The sister came forward and gently undid Pip's hospital robe to let Mr Green slowly put the palm of his hand on Pip's lower abdomen and felt around. Pip yelped and curled up in pain.

"All right, Pip, that's all I need to know. Don't worry. I think we need to get straight on with this tonight."

As they walked out, Mr Green turned to the sister.

"Not much doubt there. Call the theatre staff. Just need to get scrubbed up and the paper work sorted."

"We've already called in Mr Fraser. He arrived a few minutes ago."

"Good, we will be calling on his services shortly."

Mr Green came out still in his robe. It was the result Captain Porter feared.

"Hello, Captain Porter. Sorry to meet like this again under these circumstances. Pip possibly has a perforated appendix. I am going to have to operate straightaway. The operating theatre is being prepared and the anaesthetist has just arrived."

"I have tried to call his parents, but they are not in."

"Captain Porter, we need to operate right now. I take it you can act _in loco parentis_? We don't have time to wait, I'm afraid."

Captain Porter thought briefly. "Yes, of course I will act _in loco parentis_ , but we will keep trying to contact his parents naturally."

"Of course, but it really is best not to wait in cases like this, Captain Porter. We really need to operate now. Any delay and it increases the risk to Philip's well being. We need to proceed straightaway."

The urgency in Mr Green's voice was enough to remove any further doubts. Captain Porter signed the paperwork and then called his wife who answered immediately. She had been sitting in the office waiting for the call.

"Any news?"

"Young Pip has a possible perforated appendix. I have had to give permission to operate straightaway. We can't wait unfortunately."

"Perforated? Oh, that is bad. Pip was right as rain until this afternoon according to his classmates. I will keep trying to make contact with Pip's parents. No answer from their home number yet."

"Just say it is an appendix operation and I think that is what we say to the boys too at this stage."

Eventually Mrs Porter made contact. It was kinder coming from a woman rather than Captain Porter.

"Mrs Cox? Mrs Porter here from The Rocks."

A telephone call from the school late in the evening was most unexpected.

"Hello, how is Pip? I hope nothing is wrong."

Mrs Porter made straight to the point. There was no point being oblique about it.

"I'm afraid there is. Pip went down with suspected acute appendicitis this afternoon."

"Oh goodness, what is happening? Should we come down?"

"He is hospital. My husband is with him. We couldn't wait, I am afraid. My husband acted in loco parentis and gave permission for the operation. He is in the operating theatre now."

"Oh, excuse me."

The telephone at the other end was covered up, explanations given to someone else in the room. A man's voice came on the line.

"Mrs Porter, sorry, I have had to take over. Pip has appendicitis, has he?"

"Yes. He developed symptoms this afternoon. The doctor came immediately and took him to hospital about four hours ago. The surgeon has come down from Truro and should be operating now."

"Do we know exactly what is happening?"

"My husband called me half an hour ago. He is down there waiting for any news. They were preparing Pip for the theatre when he called."

"Well, we will come down immediately. My wife needs to be there when he comes round."

"Of course she does. The hospital is signposted from the main road. You can't miss it. If you want to come into the school, just ask for me or Matron and we will help sort things out for you. We are just getting his pyjamas and things together now. One of the masters will be going down shortly. Someone from the school will be at the hospital until you arrive. I will get a hotel sorted out for you and leave the information with whoever is at the hospital."

Captain Porter remained at the hospital until Mr Wallace arrived with Mr Barnes.

"They are operating now. Just a bit of waiting around for pre-meds and that sort of thing."

"Oh right, well, I have brought my _Times_ crossword puzzle with me. So I will be able to sit it out."

"Will you be all right? We can send out a relief party later on."

"I'll be fine, Captain Porter. It just means sitting here. I've done worse things."

"Okay, well, we will get back to school and make sure someone comes first thing in the morning. Probably my wife. I am sure she will come and his parents are coming down overnight."

Mr Barnes settled down for the wait, his _Times_ and a hip flask to hand. He wanted to be there when Pip came round after his operation before his parents arrived.

As soon as Captain Porter returned with Mr Wallace, he and Mr Durrant went upstairs to speak to the senior boarders in 6W. Captain Porter switched on the lights. The boys were wide-awake even though it was well past their normal bedtime.

"Well, I thought you would want to know the latest news. Cox has appendicitis and is being operated on right now. It's not too much of a worry. It was very quick, though. Cox should be out of surgery in the next hour or so. I am sure we will know in the morning. Now do try and settle down. We will let you know how things went in the morning, I am sure."

Mr Durrant sat on Pip's empty bed, picking up his pyjamas.

"I will be downstairs, if anyone needs me. Just come down. All right? Now off to sleep."

After Captain Porter left 6W, there was a whispered conversation. Clancy was the boy with the answers.

"It is a pretty common operation these days. Pip should be okay. I imagine he'll be off school for a couple of weeks, though."

Peter was thoughtful. As Head Boy he knew the others looked to him to offer guidance. He also wanted to reassure his brother. He knew Sacha would be worried; he wanted to tell him the news himself. To cover up this personal duty, Peter decided to tell all the Fifth and Sixth Form boys.

"We had better tell the others. Clangers, fancy coming with me? You know more about it than the rest of us."

"Okay then."

Peter and Clancy left their dormitory and made their way across to 6E. 5W had to wait their turn. The boys were aware that something bad had happened. They had seen Pip, pale and swaddled, being carried into the doctor's car that afternoon.

Eventually Peter and Clancy entered 5W.

"We thought we had better tell you what is going on. You saw Cox go off to hospital earlier? Well, it is appendicitis. Not uncommon, is it, Clancy?"

"No, straightforward enough, now they know. Captain Porter said they were operating as he left. Pip is probably through it now."

"Well, any questions? We will probably know more tomorrow."

Clancy dealt with the questions. Peter knew he had something else to do. He sat on his brother's bed. Sacha was curled up in the corner, only his eyes, fearful saucers, showed. Peter rested a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He'll be okay, I am sure, Sacha."

Sacha kept his own fears to himself. Was it anything to do with their activities that afternoon? He turned to face the wall. Even his brother could not reach out to him just now.

"Mr Durrant is downstairs if anyone needs anything."

"Or you can come up to our dorm, if you want. I am sure that will be okay."

Peter squeezed his brother's shoulder.

"Understood?"

A very slight nod came from Sacha. Peter knew to leave it there. Sacha knew what Peter meant.

"All right, good night then."

Jonathan waited five minutes, then quietly he leaned down from the upper bunk.

"I am sure he will be fine."

Sacha was not going to say anything. After a short pause and detecting no movement or response, Jonathan lay back carefully in his top bunk and went to sleep. Sacha stayed awake in silence for a while before he too succumbed, despite himself. Captain Porter stayed downstairs with his wife awaiting news. Eventually, at 12.30 he received a telephone call from Mr Barnes.

"Pip's just out of surgery now. Went fine apparently. I am going to sit with him as Mr Green thinks he should come round reasonably soon."

"Well, tell him that his parents are driving down tonight and everyone is thinking of him. The older boys already know. We told them tonight."

"Oh yes, I suppose that was the right thing to do."

"Well, they did see him leave and everything. They knew something was up."

"Of course. Well, I am sure we will have good news for them in the morning."

Next morning a tired sounding Mr Barnes called Captain Porter again.

"He came round briefly, quite delirious, but went back to sleep. A bit sore is the euphemism they use, I believe."

"Oh good. His parents called to let us know that they expect to arrive sometime soon. I will let the rest of the school know at breakfast shortly. We will send out a relief party for you after breakfast. I will take your lessons this morning. I am sure you will want to rest up a bit."

The queue for breakfast was unusually quiet. There was only one topic of conversation until Captain Porter entered and banged on the head table to bring silence.

"Well, I am sure you will all have heard that Philip Cox went down with appendicitis yesterday afternoon. You will be pleased to know that he successfully had it removed last night and is now recovering in hospital. Mr Barnes has been with him all night and he phoned me this morning to say that Philip, Pip, is sore but comfortable. I am sure we are all glad to hear that. His parents will be arriving soon and then I am sure we will find out when we can expect to see him again. Meanwhile, I know this sort of thing is disruptive, but I would like to maintain a normal routine other than I will be taking Mr Barnes's classes this morning." There was a subdued groan from some parts of the dining hall at the last piece of news.

Pip had only fragmentary memories of the last eighteen hours. Returning to the cricket pitch and then being sick was his last proper memory. After that he had fragments of memory of lying on bed in sick bay with Mrs Porter and Matron looking down at him, then doubling up in pain when the doctor examined him and a car ride swaddled in blankets. Beyond that he remembered very little other than voices, the most welcome being Mr Barnes's.

Pip stirred fitfully, his eyelids flickered and he groaned. Hands gently repositioned him.

"Come on, Pip, time to open those eyes. The doctors want to know how you are."

It was very early in the morning. Apart from Mr Barnes there was also a nurse in attendance. Just then a man Pip took to be the doctor walked in.

"So how are we, Pip?"

Pip murmured.

"All right, don't strain yourself, just relax. Someone will be here keeping an eye on you. Just try to sleep. You will feel better in a little while."

Pip slept fitfully. Whenever he woke, he was conscious of Mr Barnes being at his side, in an easy chair, a new copy of the _Times_ crossword on his lap. Mr Barnes said nothing, just looked over at Pip if he stirred and put his hand on Pip's until he dropped back to sleep again.

Pip woke properly late morning, now aware he that he must be in hospital, his parents at his bedside. Men and women came to visit him, dressed in white. He soon realised that he had had some kind of operation, aware of a sharp pain in his lower abdomen where his appendix had been.

Pip's parents were there. His mother spoke.

"You've had your appendix out, dear. It's all over now. You just need to rest up for a bit and do what your doctor tells you."

That first day passed in a blur as the anaesthetic wore off, but Pip began to feel bored already as his parents had little to say other than to sit there, read the papers and bring him anything he wanted.

The next morning Pip at least no longer felt the after effects of the anaesthetic, but there was still a sharp pain in his abdomen that made even the slightest move a prolonged and awkward activity. That second morning his parents arrived at about 9 o'clock and then after a brief update on his condition, his father leaned over him.

"Well, Pip, looks like you are on the mend. I really have to get going for tomorrow, but your mother will stay for a day or two longer."

In a way Pip was relieved. His parents being in attendance made him feel like they thought he was at death's door. He was not, he reasoned. His father swiftly returned to London, but his mother stayed on until he was definitely on the mend. He chatted with his mother, or rather she passed on a lot of inconsequential family news to him as she knitted away and he listened passively. On the fourth day she smiled.

"Look, darling, I have got to go back home. The rest of the family need looking after."

Putting on an act for his mother, Pip smiled bravely.

"That's okay. It is pretty boring. You don't come to Cornwall to sit in this place, do you?"

Despite himself, tears welled up as his mother left.

That afternoon Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince turned up together. Captain Porter guessed that Pip's two favourite teachers were probably the best visitors and they could be spared from games duty. They sat at the side of the bed, some fruit placed between them from everyone at school. Pride of place was given to a huge 'Get well soon' card, signed by everyone from the youngest boys in their half formed writing to the likes of Jonathan, Owen, Clancy, the Johnson twins and Peter.

Pip scanned the card, noting the name of each boy aloud. He worked his way methodically from top left to bottom right and then repeated the exercise on the opposite page. No signature from Sacha. Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince had let him read the card and then when he looked up in askance, Pip noticed that Mr Barnes had another smaller card in his hand.

"Perhaps you were looking for this? Matron gave it to me for special delivery as she put it."

It was a simple get-well card, but inside was Sacha's childlike signature, a bit shaky, at the bottom. There was no embellishment, no message, but it was an individual message, not just one of the masses. Mr Barnes knew full well what Pip wanted to know.

"Sacha's in sickbay at the moment, nothing serious, headachy, fever, that sort of thing. Matron is keeping him in purely as a precaution. Some sort of virus probably."

"Virus?"

"He really wasn't with it the morning after you came in here. A complete daze, probably not slept a wink. I sent him off to Matron. He's fine really, but Matron kept him in the sick bay for a bit, just to keep an eye on him."

Pip bit his lip. He really wanted to see Sacha, but that wasn't going to be possible. There was a silence until Mr Barnes broke it.

"Now come on. When you were driving me down here, you were telling me about your exhibition in St Ives."

Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince chatted on about the planned exhibition; Pip tried to listen, but found himself looking at the small card again and realised he was missing Sacha.

"Look one of us will be back tomorrow, not sure who, but we will be here. Just let us know if you want anything, won't you?"

"I am fine just now thanks, but can you tell everyone, thanks for the card. It was nice of them and tell Sacha I hope he gets better soon."

From then on either Mr Barnes or Mrs Prince visited each afternoon. Mr Barnes brought some books, illustrated _Tintin_ annuals that he knew Pip had adored when slightly younger. Mrs Prince brought in some drawing paper. She already had some of his figurative work stored away for the end of term and thought it might be an opportunity to draw some more. However, Pip found he couldn't draw; it gave him a headache. Instead, Pip started to make a model out of matchboxes, toilet rolls and any other small subjects he could scrounge. The model had no purpose to start with, but then began to turn into a fantasy topsy-turvy village. He realised it was a three dimensional representation of some of his drawings. He had not intended to keep it, but before Pip left hospital Mrs Prince stepped in and took it back to her home to mount it on a board for safekeeping. Something for the annual art exhibition on sports day.

There had been an awkward visit from Captain Porter the next morning. After some initial small talk, which both Captain Porter and Pip struggled with, Captain Porter came to the reason for his visit.

"I have some news for you."

"Yes, sir?"

"I am afraid it's not good news. The amount of schoolwork you missed by being in here means that we don't think you would stand much of a chance in your scholarship exams now. I've talked to your new headmaster and we have decided that you will just do the Common Entrance exam instead. Don't worry about it too much. Your new school is well aware of what has happened. They have promised to give you a place whatever happens based on my report and your marks to date. Your new school is also offering you the chance to do the scholarship exam in the autumn, if you still want to."

Pip had dreaded the scholarship exams and was fearful of failure and public humiliation. At least he was now spared that. However, despite himself, Pip still felt down. He was not to do the scholarship, something he had wanted to do, to prove he could, not just to his parents but also to others, also to Sacha he realised. Something new, a competitive edge was coming to play. Apart from himself, only Clancy was down for a scholarship this year. Pip had enjoyed receiving the special attention even if it meant extra work on occasion. Now that was to waste, he felt.

Mr Barnes dropped by that afternoon, apologetic at the pile of books he had with him.

"Sorry, Pip, dear boy, but exams are approaching. So no prep, just revision for you. Mr Wallace, Mr Durrant and I have prepared these work sheets for you; subjects to cover

etc. Don't try and do too much too soon. Just a bit now and then."

"Captain Porter has told me I am not doing the scholarship anymore."

"And later told me that you were not really up to it. He was very apologetic to your parents."

Despite the kind words of Mr Barnes, Pip felt a surge of panic begin to well up. He allowed the panic to turn to tears.

"Oh dear, Pip, it's okay really. I think Captain Porter explained things to you? Effectively you have been given an unconditional offer at your new school already. Captain Porter has fixed that for you."

"I know, sir, but..." Tears flooded Pip's eyes. "But the thing is... I wanted to do the scholarship, to prove I could. Now I am not allowed to."

"Oh, dear boy. Look, let's just concentrate on you doing well in these exams, for pride if nothing else. Here, where's my pen? This is how we will do it."

Mr Barnes sat down with the list and split the revision tasks up into manageable chunks day by day. He decided on an hour's work followed by quarter of an hour off, three in the morning and two in the afternoon.

"And for literature, well, you like reading, don't you? It's _Day of the Triffids_ and _War of the Worlds_. You can do those in the evening, can't you?"

Together they worked out a plan of action, a campaign Mr Barnes called it. Suddenly, it looked so much better. Now that he was working each day Pip had a teacher visit from the school each afternoon. Mr Barnes, but also Mr Wallace and Mr Durrant, turned up in turn, partly to check on his work, but also to see how he was. Out of the school Pip realised that both masters were genuinely pleased to see him and pass on some gossip, but it was Mr Barnes who Pip most looked forward to seeing. It was him he asked the question most on his mind.

"How's Sacha?"

"Well," Mr Barnes paused enough for Pip to realise that he might not get the whole truth, even from his favourite teacher.

"Sacha is fine. He's back in lessons and he's been having remedial swimming lessons. He's not very happy about that, but Mr Durrant insisted. Don't worry. Matron is keeping a very close eye on him as, I am relieved to say, is Peter. He has been taking a much closer interest in Sacha of late."

That was Pip's last day in hospital. The next day Mr Green paid a final visit to him. He poked about gently at Pip's still livid scar.

"Healing nicely and the soreness has mostly gone, hasn't it?"

"It's much better, thanks."

"Well, I think you should be getting out of here and back into normal life, but take things gently. No swimming, no games, no running around, just some gentle R'n'R is what you need."

"R'n'R?"

"Rest and recreation. I have spoken to Mrs Porter about it. She's seeing to it that you will not overstep things for the next week and then we can have another check, but I am sure it will be fine."

Captain Porter brought Pip back to school. As they rolled through the gates of the school, Pip was genuinely happy to return.

"Well here we are. Remember this place? Take things easy for the next couple of days. That's the main thing. Mr Durrant tells me you did quite a bit of work in hospital by the way."

"Yes, sir. Well, I still have exams."

"I know. No harm in having ambition."

As the car crunched to a halt on the gravel, the main doors to the school opened and there was Mrs Porter.

"Welcome back, Pip. Good to see you. Your class mates will be so pleased."

Mrs Porter took charge of things.

"We are going to ease you in gently. It is going to bit of a shock getting into the old routine, I suspect. No lessons for you just now. They can start this afternoon. Mr Barnes is just going to run through all the books you have been reading with you. The other teachers will do the same over the next couple of days, I expect."

Pip followed Mrs Porter into the Staff room where Mr Barnes sat surrounded by a cloud of smoke from his pipe. The old teacher seemed genuinely delighted to have Pip back in school.

"Come in, come in. Excuse the exercise books. The Fifth formers have written some perfectly rotten essays today. Well, most of them."

Pip sat in an alcove with Mr Barnes and the two of them went through the books Pip had read whilst in hospital. They talked on the common themes and connections between _Day of the Triffids_ and _On the Beach_. Pip lapped it up; he had very strong views on _Day of The Triffids_.

"But that is why it is such a good book, of course, Pip. It makes you think."

"But are humans really that beastly?"

"Sometimes, we all are. You can be horrid when you want, can't you?"

"I suppose so, sir, like pulling wings off a moth for example? Well, I don't do that any more."

"Well, I am glad to hear it, but most boys have their moments."

"What, even Clancy?"

"Clancy is a mean bridge player. That's his vice. He always plays to win. A changed boy with a stack of cards in his hand."

Because he was still convalescing, Pip found he was to sleep in the sickbay where Matron could watch over him. Pip had wanted desperately to be back in the dorm with the other boys. That was where all the gossip was exchanged, but for the moment, for the first couple of days, Matron was firm. He was to sleep alone in the sickbay with early bed times until she was convinced that the colour was back in his cheeks and that he would not be unduly tired.

Matron also put other limits on Pip: no PE, no swimming, no games and no rough-housing with the others. Instead, after lunch he was to come back to the sick bay for a quiet period of rest.

At lunchtime Pip was finally allowed to join his fellow Sixth Formers. As Pip waited for them, he looked around for Sacha. The Fifth Formers emerged together, Sacha, his red hair blazing in the sun, emerged with Jonathan. They were deep in discussion until Jonathan saw him.

"Hey, Pip!"

"Welcome back."

Before any more could be said, Mr Wallace shooed them away. "Plenty of time for chatter after lunch. You two go and join the queue."

Jonathan led the way to their right place in the queue. Sacha looked back. He wanted to say more, but could not without incurring the wrath of Mr Wallace.

Pip's lunch was spent with his fellow Sixth Formers. He found himself answering lots of questions as he tried to eat his food, much better than what he had been eating in hospital.

After lunch, Matron was waiting for him. "Come on, some quiet time for you."

Pip found himself being led off to the sick room where he had the luxury of his own bedroom, all to himself. Pip soon dozed off only to wake at about three in the afternoon. Matron looked in on him as he stirred.

"It's a lovely day. Why don't you go and watch the cricket? But stay in the shade. I will be down to check on you with something to drink a bit later."

All the senior boys were down on the main field, with a First and Second game in progress. Currently batting was Sacha; he had been put in the First Team as substitute wicket keeper. Pip sat under the shade of the oak trees as he had been ordered to do, a book close to hand. Sacha lasted for another few overs and then was caught out by Peter. Sacha marched off to the Pavilion where the other players were, but on seeing Pip, waved and signalled to him. Two minutes later Sacha reappeared minus his pads and came over into the shade where Pip was sitting. He sat down close to Pip to provide companionship. Pip was shocked at how pale he was and noted the bags under his eyes as Sacha squinted at Pip against the sun.

"Bad luck getting caught like that."

"Well, I asked for it and of course Peter is always ready to catch his little brother, isn't he?"

"What have you been up to? I got your card by the way."

"I went down with something when you had your appendix out. Matron kept me in bed for a week. That's why I wasn't allowed to visit. I did ask."

"So I wasn't the only invalid then?"

"A virus they think. The doctor did these blood tests, but they could not find much wrong, but he and Matron just prescribed rest and quiet. It got really boring after a while."

Sacha paused for a second. Something he had to unburden himself with. "And... and I missed you."

"Me too."

"Well you're back now."

"But I am not going to be doing much. I am banned from swimming, PE, games and anything at all boisterous. They are going to keep me under close observation for the next few days at least."

Pip changed the subject. "So you're in the First Team now?"

"Only because they were short. Peter really doesn't like it, having me there. I bet I will be back in the Second Team next time round."

Being an invalid was not too bad an experience for Pip. Cricket was not a favourite game for him, but next afternoon he chose to watch the game with Sacha in it. As Sacha predicted he had been banished back to the Second Game. Mr Barnes was in charge and he had an idea.

"Pip, you know the rules of the game, LBW and all that, don't you?"

"Oh yes, sir, you know I do."

"Well how about you try out as umpire for a bit? Not too long mind. You are not supposed to be in the sun for long at the moment."

"Oh, can I sir? Yes, I would like that."

"I'll be watching from the boundary, in the shade. Just ten overs mind and then I will take over."

Pip took his role seriously; he put on a sun hat as provided by Matron and tied a jumper around his waist as that seemed to be what umpires did. Pip found his role as umpire enjoyable, especially when he called 'wide' a couple of times. The honeymoon was short lived. Eventually things reached the stage where the other boys challenged some of Pip's decisions. Clancy bowled, Jonathan chipped the ball behind him. It bounced, fielded by Sacha, arm outstretched. Jonathan dashed back to his crease as Sacha promptly lobbed the ball at the stumps just as Jonathan made a frantic reach with his bat. Too late. Sacha's accurate throw took out the left stump sending the bails flying.

"Out!"

Sacha looked triumphant. Jonathan protested loudly.

"That was never. I was well within the crease."

Jonathan bristled with as much indignity as he could muster. Mr Barnes stepped in.

"The umpire's decision is final. You should know that, Pierce. Now, next man, please."

Bat slung over his shoulder, Jonathan marched off into the shade undoing his pads as he went.

"Know thine enemy."

That evening Pip went to watch the senior boys swimming. Clancy stayed with him at the top reading his book. He had never learnt to swim.

"How is it, Pip?"

"I'd rather be down there, in the water with the others."

"Oh, I never liked swimming here, too cold. The Romans had the right idea, hot baths, steam rooms, that sort of thing."

Pip looked at the impressively thick book on Clancy's lap.

"What are you reading?"

" _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_. It's a bit dry in parts, but just goes to show how nothing lasts for ever."

Pip looked down at the other boys having fun. Owen was looking aimlessly from rock pool to rock pool. A small group of boys, Sacha amongst them, were practising their breaststroke under Mr Wallace's instructions. The other boys were bouncing a beach ball around in the water.

"This is never going to last, is it?"

"Our last term, so just a few weeks."

"Don't say that. It sounds so final."

"Things have to move on, Pip, especially at our age. I am looking forward to a new school, one with a decent library."

"But haven't you enjoyed it here? I mean, you won't get this at another school."

Pip looked around where they sat, the rugged Cornish landscape, the cliffs, the coves, the sea, the friends.

"I know I am going to miss it, and my friends, especially my friends."

Pip could not help himself. He looked over his shoulder. Sacha was standing chest high in water, his hair, wet, covering his eyes. It never seemed to bother him that his fringe covered his eyes. Clancy followed his gaze. He knew without looking who Pip was observing.

"There will be other friends in due course, just maybe different."

"I guess, I mean you are right. I know it will never be the same."

Pip felt a wave of sadness come over him. This time was coming to an end, within just a few weeks.

The two boys stayed together at the cliff top in companionable silence, reading in the late afternoon sun that blazed each day with monotonous regularity. Come the weekend, Sacha's name was down for an away game for the First XI as wicket keeper. There was to be no going out. Pip was at a loss as to what to do, not something he had faced in years as normally there was some one around, but instead of being at a loose end scrabbling for companionship, Mrs Prince had an alternate offer.

"Pip, fancy coming with me to my home? I want some help mounting that model village you created in hospital. It's going in the art exhibition."

"Really? I didn't think it that good. I mean it's all topsy turvy."

"Not all art is based on the realistic representation of the facts, Pip. Indeed, perhaps I should take you to meet a friend of mine? She's quite famous in her own way."

Mrs Prince had a cottage in the heart of St Ives. The downstairs was a cluttered living area with a bedroom and kitchen beyond, but upstairs there was a studio with big windows letting in the light from all directions. Pictures lined the walls, but in the middle, on a table was Pip's creation.

"We need to mount this."

Mrs Prince moved things out of the way and looked around the studio, searching for what she wanted. It only took a few moments before a piece of plywood was produced.

"Here, take this piece of wood here. We can put it on that."

With Mrs Prince in charge and Pip's help the model was attached to a base of wood and Pip set to putting the finishing touches to it concealing the base. Mrs Prince mixed some white rendering and Pip steadily applied it until the base and model were one. Pip stood back and admired his handiwork.

"Not bad. It looks a lot better now it's mounted on something."

"Good, I am glad you think so. I can see it was a real labour of love."

They went out into the town; the early season tourists were enjoying the seafront and frequenting the shops selling souvenirs and ice creams. Mrs Prince took Pip and showed him some of her paintings in one of the galleries in St Ives.

"I have something else to show you."

"What's that?"

"A surprise. Come with me."

Together, Mrs Prince leading the way, they went into the church. Pip was suspicious of churches; surely Mrs Prince was not religious? Inside the church Mrs Prince took him to look at a sculpture of the Madonna. It was all curves, organic. Pip struggled to find the language to express what he saw in it other than he knew that it was something special. Seeing his interest, Mrs Prince made Pip an offer.

"That's the work of this friend of mine. Do you fancy meeting her?"

"You mean we can see her, the artist, I mean?" Pip's curiosity rose.

"Oh yes, come on. She's got a lot more in her workshop, always working away on them, but I know she finishes early in the afternoon. So we won't disturb her."

They walked up the hill to one of the side streets where there was an anonymous white building on a corner with few windows to give a clue as to its purpose. Mrs Prince knocked on the door and the artist came to the door. She was wearing dusty overalls and had a cigarette in her hand, but was very keen to invite them in. Pip didn't listen to the conversation; he just let himself be led upstairs and into the garden to the studios at the back. Pip was fascinated by the sheer size of the works that littered her studio and in the garden outside. He was also mystified how such a small woman, who chain-smoked throughout their visit, could produce works on such a scale. The visit impressed Pip enormously. Could he produce something on that scale if he tried?

When Pip returned with Mrs Prince, they arrived just as the First XI came in elated after a resounding away win. Sacha was in the thick of them with his brother. He had taken two catches and three wickets. Pip could only watch from the periphery, sitting with Owen.

That evening at the top of the cliffs Pip managed to catch up with Sacha as he was running down to Chapel Cove in just his swimming trunks, his towel neatly rolled around a tee shirt to provide protection from the still strong sun, should it be needed.

"Hi, Sacha, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow? We won't be able to go far, but we could go somewhere perhaps?"

Sacha looked at Pip embarrassed. "I am already going out. Sorry, Pip. It's Peter. He wants to take me somewhere. I have to go with him."

"Oh, well."

"He is my brother and well, he asked at the beginning of the week and mentioned it whilst we were at the match this afternoon again. I can't change it now. Sorry. Another time?"

* * *

A week later it was almost the same story.

"Jonathan asked me last night in the dorm. Well, you know what he is like when he wants to get his way. I have to get out. I mean school's great, but you have to get away sometimes."

"I wish I could join you. You know, like before."

"Well, it's okay. Jonathan is pretty good company. Mind you, he just likes to swim and eat ice cream. It's not really the same, but he chats up the girls."

"And you? I mean with the girls?"

"I am just along for the ride mostly, but Jonathan always looks for a pair. He's good at it."

Pip bit his lip and said nothing. The opportunities to see Sacha had diminished rapidly this term. Sacha seemed to have other things occupying him, notably cricket. Now that Sacha was a regular in the First XI with Jonathan and Peter, his free time was often taken up with away games. Now the only time the two boys saw each other for more than a few moments was in the late afternoon when Pip would stay at the top and watch, with more than a little envy, as the other boys went swimming in the cove below.

Sacha was always down at the Cove now. When he did swim in free time at the end after his swimming lesson, it was mostly with Jonathan, always unmistakeable with his hair even half a bay away. Jealously Pip noticed that they sometimes disappeared together around the point well away from the other boys. Pip went and looked one afternoon, but Sacha and Jonathan were hidden from view by the cliff top that leaned precariously outwards from the sea itself at this point. The overhanging cliff meant you could not look down directly from the top, nor could you hear anything from below, what with the constant sound of the waves, the wind and the seagulls.

Disappointed with his semi-invalid status, Pip was only too pleased when half term arrived the following week. As he prepared to leave The Rocks for half term he packed a bag of books for revision. He was joining Mr Wallace, who was escorting a small group of boys on the train to London.

At breakfast that final morning, Pip learnt from Peter that the Morgan family were going to be staying in Bristol with Sam. The two brothers came downstairs after breakfast for the second time, Sacha's trunk carried between them, as Mrs Morgan and Sam arrived. Mrs Porter seeing Mrs Morgan immediately went over to her and filled her in about Sacha. "He's been in sick bay for a few days, some sort of virus we think. Nothing to worry about. He's fine now as you can see."

Sam took charge, opening the boot of the car before Mrs Morgan returned and fussed over her two sons.

"Well, come on, you two. Sacha, Mrs Porter tells me that you have been in sick bay for a week this term. What was it this time?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"He just wanted a rest, lazy dog."

"I am not!"

"Hush, you two, really!"

"My, you two look so tanned. You would think you have both been on holiday and not at school."

"Oh it's been great this term, hasn't it, Sacha?"

"Oh yes, we go swimming each afternoon."

"I told you he would be all right with Peter here."

"Come on, put your things in the back. Sam has found us a nice flat to stay in. It's a lecturer's flat right in Clifton."

Sacha turned to Pip just as he was getting in the back seat of the car.

"Bye, Pip!"

Peter leaned over from his side. "Yes, next stop exams, you and me both."

With a scrunch of gravel, the Morgan family left school.

*****

Chapter 13 - Summer Term 1968

Mr Barnes was by the entrance ticking off the returning boys for the start of the second half of the Summer Term as always.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Pip. Not many other boys about yet."

Pip quickly dispensed with his parents once his father had helped him upstairs with his trunk. Alone Pip sat in quiet contemplation of the next few weeks to come. There was a tension in the air for all the boys in the Sixth Form. The Common Entrance Exams were due to start the following Monday. There was one frantic week of revision to come and then a week and a half of exams, two or three a day for the next ten days.

Sacha returned with Peter. He met Pip coming up the stairs with some of his textbooks from his desk, his face wearing a worried frown.

"Hello, Pip, how are you feeling?"

"Oh everything has healed up nicely now, thanks."

"Can we go out to Mousehole this weekend?"

Pip had put all thoughts of weekends out of his mind. Instead he had reluctantly committed himself to revising. His Latin and French worried him. Languages did not come naturally to him.

"Sorry, Sacha, exams start Monday. I really still have lots of revision to do. Afterwards, okay?"

"Oh, okay."

Sacha barely hid his disappointment. Peter had said the same to him, but he hated the idea of staying in school. That was like a punishment. Fortunately Jonathan was more forthcoming.

"Sunday? We can go down St Ives. It's getting busy there now. Lots of girls if we are lucky."

"Okay, then."

At the end of each day Pip allowed himself a brief visit to Chapel Cove to watch the others swim each evening, spending the rest of the time in catch-up sessions with his subject teachers or with Clancy in their dormitory. Clancy was reading his scholarship material. His books had careful underlining and annotations in red and green. The Latin Clancy was looking at seemed so much more advanced than the Latin that Pip was struggling with. However, at least with Clancy there was an air of quiet calm learning that helped Pip concentrate on his own work.

The good news had come the first Monday. After a visit to the doctor Pip had finally been given the all clear to restart swimming. At the Cove Mr Wallace was leading his group of remedial swimmers in the warmest and mostly gently shelving part of the Cove. The other boys were banished to the other side near Parson's leap. Pip was nervous about swimming again. Although he followed the other boys down, he did not want to enter the water with the rest of them. Instead he waited a bit and then entered in a quiet spot well away from the other boys where only Owen was, looking for crabs. Not wanting to risk running in or diving, Pip gingerly walked out up to his waist, felt the water with his hands and then took advantage of a wave and plunged in. He surfaced rapidly in shock. The water was far colder than he remembered, especially when it touched his scar. After the shortest of swims Pip came out of the water, sat shivering wrapped in his towel despite the sun and watched the other boys as they splashed about as if not a care in the world.

Sacha had managed to escape from his remedial swimming lessons, convincing Mr Wallace that he was able to swim well enough not to need any more lessons. However, to Pip's disappointment, Sacha did not join him on the beach, but instead he approached Mr Wallace with Jonathan.

"Sir, can we borrow the snorkelling gear?"

"Where are you going to use it?"

"Oh, we want to explore under Parson's Leap."

"Well, okay, bring it back and do not get too close to the cliffs as you don't want to bash into them."

"Oh, we will be careful."

"Mind you are."

The two boys went off to explore the crystal clear water under Parson's Leap. Uninvited, Pip watched from the distance and felt left alone and morose, buried under his pre-exam anxieties.

Sacha went off with Jonathan as planned that Sunday. On the beach at Porthminster they met up with two girls and went swimming with them, but after their swim, the girls were reluctant to do more than sunbathe.

"Come on, Sacha, we might as well go back."

Disappointed, Sacha agreed. Having their swimming kit, the two boys went straight to Chapel Cove, where most of the Fifth Form boys were already swimming. The Sixth Formers were mostly absent, back at school revising. For Pip the Monday morning of the first exam, English, came all too soon. After breakfast Sacha came up to him.

"Good luck. Rotten to have exams on a day like this."

"Thanks."

Pip agreed. The clear blue skies promised another hot June day. This time last year Pip did not have a care in the world. Now all he could think of was the timetable of exams for the next week and a half.

The Sixth Form boys gathered early outside their classroom. Outside there was a big sign; 'Silence, exams in progress.'

Captain Porter came into the classroom and stood in front of them. Gone was any pretence that this was a normal school day. On the wall hung a large clock and on the blackboard was listed the start and finish times of the day's exams starting with English and maths.

"Good morning, boys." Captain Porter sensed the tension in the air. "Don't worry too much. Your exams will soon be over. You can also take comfort that you have fewer exams than Clancy who also has to do further Scholarship papers all by himself after you have finished."

The class turned to express their sympathy to Clancy, faced with the prospect of four extra exams in the late afternoon. Clancy however remained unfazed. At the mention of the Scholarship papers, Pip wanted to hide. Despite the excuse of his operation, he still felt he was letting the side down and should have been with Clancy doing the Scholarship papers.

The first day set the tone. The Sixth Form was shut off from the rest of the school, locked away doing three exams per day, two exams in the morning and one in the early afternoon. The afternoon exams were the worst as the day was at its hottest and the noise of cricket and athletics could be heard even when it was kept at some distance from the school. Whilst the Sixth Formers were doing their last exam indoors in the main block, the rest of the school got on with its usual routine.

For the Sixth Form boys the exams soon became their routine. Pip was locked up with the other Sixth Formers doing exams all day until the afternoon lesson periods when they were allowed some free time, which they spent down at Chapel Cove with Captain Porter who always organised some activities to keep their minds from fretting on either the exams to come or those that had just been.

After tea the Sixth Form went back for a period of revision whilst the other boys were allowed out after prep to enjoy the Cove all to themselves until the Sixth Form were allowed out briefly a second time at the end of their revision period.

In the absence of Pip Jonathan and Sacha began to snorkel together, exploring the coast either side of Chapel Cove.

"You never know, we might find some treasure."

Sacha thought it unlikely. Apart from a few startled seagulls nothing was to be found in the various nooks and crannies they explored, but the two boys enjoyed each other's company. Apart from being class and bunkmates they had several things in common: a natural ability at ball games, a dislike of the confines of school and a desire to push the boundaries now they were reaching adolescence. Only academically did they differ much. Sacha was top of the form in all subjects other than geography and history. Jonathan on the other hand was the more athletic in the gym and less keen on lessons, although he was no slouch in subjects such as maths and was top of the form in geography.

With Pip an invalid for the last few weeks, Sacha and Jonathan had gone out to St Ives a couple of times. Jonathan found that with Sacha in tow it had been easier to talk to the curious throng of girls that often gathered by the harbour. Although generally shyer than Jonathan, Sacha was good at small talk with girls, something he had learned from Sam's girlfriends at the tennis club in Hong Kong. There the teenage girls were used to having Sacha come along with Sam when she used him as an excuse to go out to places like Stanley or Aberdeen.

That weekend, with all the Sixth Formers locked up in the middle of last-minute exam revision, Sacha had gone with Jonathan to St Ives. Unusually it was just one fourteen- year-old girl who let them chat her up. Jonathan as usual made the approach.

"I'm Jonathan, this is Sacha. We live here." Jonathan mentioned that they were at boarding school.

"Lucky you. I am just here for the weekend."

The three of them chatted as they walked away from the beach; her parents were looking at some galleries. So the girl was by herself for the afternoon.

"So show me where your school is then," she asked after about ten minutes. The boys walked her along the cliff path. Rachael was her name they discovered. They chatted for about an hour and then Rachael decided she had to go. Before she did she kissed both boys, Sacha first. It was a long kiss. She forced her tongue into Sacha's mouth, salty from crisps, both hands round his back, pulling them together. A reaction. Rachael stepped back when she realised what was pushing into her.

"My, you're keen."

Sacha was puzzled. When Rachael finished with Jonathan the two boys walked back in silence until Jonathan asked the question.

"What was she talking about, you being keen?"

Sacha blushed bright red. "It was just a reaction. I couldn't help it."

Jonathan said no more. He could see that Sacha was not going to talk about what had happened, but Jonathan could guess. He would find a suitable opportunity and try and find out for sure.

It was the Wednesday of the final day of the exams. Jonathan made a proposal to Sacha. "I have managed to book the tennis court. Fancy a game?"

"Oh, okay."

"It's all right. I cleared it with Mr Wallace. There are no First XI games at the moment in any case, as most of the players are in there." Jonathan indicated the main school block where the exams continued.

"Come on then." Sacha loved to play tennis. It was something he did regularly in Hong Kong.

With Jonathan in the lead the two Fifth Formers made their way to the courts. Sacha and Jonathan played best of three over the course of the afternoon. Sacha played a sly game. His quickness of reaction meant that he had Jonathan running all over the court. Jonathan made up for his slightly slower reaction times by his speed, agility and energy, banging the ball back from the back and sides of the court. As the two boys got the measure of each other's game, they played more competitively, working up a sweat over the long hot afternoon. Mr Wallace came over from a rather slow game of cricket a couple of times.

"How are you two doing?"

The two boys were sitting on the grass in the shade of an oak tree after two matches. The redness of their faces and the sweat on their brows told its own story.

"Oh, it's one set apiece. Morgan is rather good."

"It's just luck mainly."

"Ah, so you have met your match, have you, Pierce? No harm in that."

Mr Wallace left the tennis court, satisfied that the boys were indeed playing tennis and returned to the game of cricket he was umpiring.

After the third set, which Jonathan finally had to concede defeat one set to two, the boys went to the drinking fountain by the changing room for a drink.

"You really are rather good at tennis, aren't you?"

"It's what I used to play with Peter in the club in Hong Kong. It's strange. Peter hardly ever plays here, though."

"You never mentioned that before we started playing."

"You didn't ask! Besides, I haven't played for a couple of months."

Both boys gathered around the drinking fountain taking turns to drink. Jonathan glowed, but Sacha was flushed red. Jonathan, ever the one for mischief, diverted a jet of water over Sacha.

"Hey!"

"You look so hot. You are crimson."

Sacha hovered on the other side of the water fountain.

"It's my complexion. That's what we red heads do, go red when we are hot, well sort of. Try this."

Sacha aimed a jet at Jonathan and succeeded in soaking both of them by not using enough pressure with his thumb. The boys leapt back to avoid the water, but the mess was already made.

"Oh sorry."

"Don't worry. It will soon dry in this heat."

Thirst quenched and drenched with water, the boys went inside the small changing room under the Junior Block used by the younger boys. It was now very hot and they were still sweating from their game of tennis. Jonathan sat on the changing bench opposite Sacha and started to remove his white games kit.

"Shower?"

Normally the boys had to be ordered into the showers at The Rocks, but today it seemed like a very good idea. They were both very hot and a cooling shower seemed like the most comfortable thing to do other than race down to Chapel Cove, which was an uncomfortable ten minutes away in the hot Cornish sun.

Sacha thought about it quickly and overcame his normal reticence to undress. After all, he showered with Jonathan everyday in the dormitory. Jonathan forced the issue. He was already half naked, removing his socks. So it would be pretty stand offish not to follow suit.

"Okay, a shower now sounds good."

Jonathan rapidly stripped off his socks and shorts and left his games kit in a heap on the floor before standing up, the tan marks from wearing swimming trunks very visible against his skin. Sacha took his time carefully folding his clothes as he had been taught at home. Finally only when Jonathan went in to turn the water on, did Sacha remove his shorts. Sacha was still quite shy of his body even though he was now suntanned from the summer outdoor life at The Rocks. Jonathan played with the taps, shifting the temperature from hot to the cool side of tepid. He danced out of the way when it was too cold even for him. It took half a minute before he was satisfied.

"Come on, the water's fine now."

Sacha tentatively put his hand in and pulled it out rapidly. "That's just a bit too cold for me."

"Oh okay." Jonathan turned up the temperature fractionally. Now it was just right, tepid but not hot.

The boys showered side-by-side exchanging the one bar of soap from time to time until Jonathan managed to drop it in the soapy water.

"Where's the soap?" Jonathan asked in feigned innocence. He dropped to all fours at Sacha's feet. Sacha hurriedly dropped down too and the boys searched for the soap with their hands in the soapy water. Sacha found it.

"Here it is."

"Give it to me."

"No! I've got it."

"I said give it to me!"

The next thing Jonathan was on Sacha's back trying to wrestle the soap from him, but Sacha was having none of it. It had become a game. The two boys were on their hands and knees feeling for the soap and then wrestling each other for it. They were each having fun trying to grab the elusive bar of soap from the other. Eventually Sacha had the soap and Jonathan was all over him trying to grab it.

Had they done this in the First Form, Matron would have intervened and delivered more than a couple of firm smacks to each of them, but in the absence of Matron Jonathan took Sacha in a bear hug that Sacha desperately tried to wriggle out of. The boys wrestled helped by their soap-covered slipperiness. Jonathan had Sacha pinned down on the floor.

"Hey!"

Sacha was now indignant. Jonathan was astride him, but suddenly let Sacha loose, a purposeful look in his eyes, the source of Sacha's indignation all too obvious to both of them. Jonathan turned off the water, signalling silence and listened. They could hear the cricket in the distance.

"No one's around."

Jonathan, emboldened by his memories of Rachael last weekend, was very quick. Sacha inflamed by the sight soon joined in. It did not take either of them long. Both now finished, Jonathan turned on the shower. The boys quickly washed the evidence away.

"Come on, we can get some lemon squash from the kitchen."

"We forgot to bring our towels."

Jonathan looked around. "There's a small one by the sink. Here, you go first."

Sacha quickly dried himself and gave the towel to Jonathan as he dressed. Before they left, Jonathan did a quick look around. There was no evidence of anything else and nothing untoward.

"Come on, let's get that drink. I am really thirsty now."

Jonathan led the way around the back of the dining hall to where the kitchen was. There was a door open. Jonathan peered cautiously inside.

"Hello?" He called out twice and then looked down towards Parson's Leap. Three figures were silhouetted against the sun: one tall, one stout, and one small.

"Oh, it's okay. They must have gone off for a ciggie break. I can see them down there." Jonathan pointed. Sacha could see the familiar shapes.

"Oh, okay."

Sure enough, as Jonathan predicted, there was a jug of lemon squash brimming with ice cubes on the main table, as it was such a hot day. Jonathan found two glasses.

"Here you are."

Sacha took the proffered glass. Jonathan peeped into the main kitchen area.

"There's no one around."

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, just to have a look around. Stay by the door with the glass half full in your hand and come in loudly if anyone comes."

"But Jonathan..."

"Stop being a pansy."

Unhappy Sacha kept look out. After what seemed ages Jonathan emerged. Cake tin in hand.

"Something for a midnight feast."

"But they'll miss it."

"No, they won't. It is one of about a dozen. They'll just think they made the wrong number." Sacha wasn't happy with this, but he kept quiet, not wanting to fall out with Jonathan.

Whilst Jonathan and Sacha had been playing tennis, the Sixth Formers were sitting their final exam, RE, Religious Education. Pip had gained confidence in his exams after a shaky start on the first day. He cruised through the final paper, relying on his memory to answer the questions. It was an easy paper to finish on. As he sat back, ten minutes to spare, Pip spied Sacha and Jonathan emerging from the tennis changing room. They were wet headed, carrying tennis rackets and a tin. He realised that Sacha and Jonathan were becoming ever closer.

Pip felt confident enough to leave the exam room early and walked up to Mr Barnes who was invigilating. Papers in hand he bent low so he could talk quietly to Mr Barnes without disturbing the other boys.

"I've finished, sir."

It was not strictly allowed, but Mr Barnes looked at the neatly written paper. He saw the right number of answers, all of which looked correct and decided to let Pip leave early.

"All right. Leave quietly and move away from the exam room."

"Yes, sir."

Once outside, Pip waved to Jonathan and Sacha who were sitting under the oak tree. They waved him over in response. As Pip crossed the empty playing field, the two Fifth Formers looked around and deciding it was safe, removed the cake from its hiding place. The boys were probably out of bounds, but at this stage of the term and with Pip it was unlikely to lead to any serious trouble. When Pip caught up with them Jonathan opened the cake tin to show Pip their booty from the kitchen.

"Fancy some? It's already sliced."

Pip, who had not been eating much due to some residual fears about his stitches, looked hungrily at the cake.

"Okay, but just one piece."

Sacha declined after having eaten one piece already, but Jonathan helped himself to another two pieces leaving two thirds of the cake behind. Jonathan put the lid on the cake and decided to pick it up later to share with the rest of the dormitory tonight. The boys dusted off any crumbs before leaving.

"I had better get back. The other boys will be out of the exam shortly."

"Okay, we've got lessons to get to in any case."

Just then the other Sixth Formers emerged all elated as exams were finally over. As they came out, Peter could see Pip with Sacha and Jonathan on the other side of the field. Kit was alongside him.

"Pip is very friendly with your brother."

"Very friendly from what I hear."

Robbie joined them. Peter's curiosity was aroused.

"In what way?"

"They are always off by themselves. Before half term they went up into that area just below Trendrine. Spent a whole afternoon alone. Pierce saw them."

"Well, that was what Pierce was saying, was it? Not sure I believe him."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Peter was annoyed with Jonathan. He had asked him not to say anything about what he had seen on Trendrine, but clearly he had told the twins. Who else he wondered? Peter decided not to be distracted just now. He led his fellow Sixth Form companions onto the cricket field. He wanted to lead the celebrations, his right as Head Boy.

"Come on. We have time for a game of football."

Celebrating their freedom, the Sixth Formers all went down onto the cricket pitch. All their exams were now over. The boys were conscious that they had passed through the ultimate rites of passage in the prep school system.

Two scratch teams were chosen for a game of football. Peter wanted to make a show of his generosity. He ignored the question marks in his mind about Pip and chose him, choosing some unlikely teammates.

"Owen, Clancy, Cox, come here."

The rest of the team was chosen quickly with the Johnson twins acting as joint captain of the opposing team. The other boys, returning from their afternoon of cricket or swimming, milled around the edge of the pitch and began acting as the crowd, chanting out names and offering encouragement, but just then Mr Durrant appeared and reluctantly blew the whistle for afternoon lessons.

"Sorry, boys, it's time for lessons."

With some small protests the younger boys headed for their classrooms, Jonathan topless, concealing the cake tin under his tee shirt, Sacha at his side. Instinctively the Sixth Formers also started towards their classroom. Mr Durrant quickly put a stop to that.

"No, not you boys. You have done all the hard work. Just keep away from the rest of the school for the remainder of the afternoon and come back at tea time."

For Pip and his Sixth Form companions this was the ultimate expression of freedom. They started to kick the ball around without any supervision. Slowly it dawned on them; they had no more lessons for the remainder of the term. Four whole weeks of free time interspersed with some organised activities lay ahead. They would not have as much freedom again until after their A levels in five years' time. That afternoon they set out to enjoy themselves as much as they could possibly do.

At the end of afternoon lessons the whole school, from the youngest First Years to Mr Barnes came out into the Quad. The kitchen staff emerged with cakes for a celebratory tea. Chocolate cake and orange squash all round. The boys quickly thronged around the laid out table and helped themselves, overseen by Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince. "Just one slice of cake each, that's all there is."

Sacha looked at Jonathan. "Are you sure they haven't counted?"

"It'll be all right. There's always cake left over. Just wait and see."

The two boys moved away from the table. Only Jonathan had taken a slice. Feeling guilty, Sacha had declined and settled for a biscuit instead.

"That's the lot, I'm afraid."

Mr Barnes looked in all the cake tins; none was left. Mrs Porter came over.

"But some of the staff have not had any. Are you sure we haven't let some of the greedier boys have more than one slice? I ordered thirteen cakes, a dozen slices apiece. That was enough for everyone with a couple spare."

"None that I am aware of, Mrs Porter. It's okay. I certainly don't need a slice."

"Hmm, I had better check with Cook."

Mrs Porter spoke quietly to Cook, who was very distressed at this apparent error and ran indoors, emerging with a piece of paper.

"Look, Mrs Porter, here's your instructions. I followed them to the letter, but there's only the twelve tins now, not thirteen, I assure you. Look you can see the thirteen boxes of eggs, six eggs each for thirteen cakes. I keep them for Mrs Prince."

Mrs Porter did a quick count herself. Twelve tins, thirteen empty egg boxes.

"Quite right. So it looks like we are one cake tin short."

Captain Porter had now turned up, aware of some problem.

"I can assure you, Captain Porter, I made enough cakes and I know my numbers. I made thirteen this morning and now there is only twelve tins."

Mrs Porter intervened to stop the conversation repeating itself.

"Yes, I am absolutely sure you did, Cook. I can see the empty egg boxes like you said, thirteen of them."

Captain Porter was used to getting to the bottom of these sorts of incidents, especially when it involved some of his boys.

"Has anyone else been in the kitchen, Cook?"

"Some lemon squash has gone. I always leave a jug for the boys when the temperature is like this."

"Of course and look, footprints. Tennis shoes, two pairs with one going towards the table. I think we can guess that a couple of the boys have helped themselves."

Unaware of this drama the whole school thronged round the new generation of leavers as the Sixth Formers had now become. Pip along with the rest of Sixth Formers revelled in this attention, but eventually he sought out Sacha. Sacha was standing in a knot of boys around his brother who was gently teasing his younger brother over his still damp state.

"Forgotten what a towel is for, have you, Sacha?"

"No we just didn't have one."

"That's not very clever. You're supposed to be the bright one in the family."

"We didn't realise we would be needing a towel until we finished playing tennis. By then we really needed to cool off."

Peter gently put his arm around Sacha and pulled him towards him. Sacha was more than happy to feel his brother's embrace.

"Well, perhaps you will remember next time."

Nevertheless, as soon as Sacha saw Pip coming in his direction, he peeled off.

"I have been given a clean bill of health. Fancy going out with me this weekend?"

"Could do, but first Parson's Leap. Remember what we said that night? Now is the time to show the other boys."

"What in daylight?"

"We can do it when the other Sixth Formers are there. You lot are not supervised now."

"Are you sure? I won't be able to jump in with you. I am not allowed to do anything like that yet."

"It doesn't matter. I can still do it. Jonathan will, I am sure, for a dare."

Pip could not hide his glare. "Jonathan?"

"He's all right really."

Pip stopped himself. He was jealous, he realised. "Oh Jonathan, I know he's okay." Pip tried to relax. "He'll be up for it, I am sure."

Pip set up an idea for a barbecue with Peter.

"I thought it would be a wizard idea to hold a barbecue down at Chapel Cove this evening. I am sure we could get permission if we asked. I bet the kitchen staff will provide something to barbecue if we ask them, sausages and the like."

For once Peter was game to go along with a plan drawn up by Pip. "That sounds a great idea, but better keep it to senior boys only. Otherwise we will have the staff there and that will cramp our style."

"Well, if we promise to be back by nine o'clock they should be okay about it as it is still broad daylight then."

The two boys worked out the details and then went straight to Mrs Porter.

"Please, Miss, we have had this idea for a barbecue for the Fifth and Sixth Formers this evening down at Chapel Cove. Could you ask Captain Porter for us?"

Mrs Porter knew why she was being asked to do the negotiations. She would be the only one to get approval.

"All right, and I am guessing staff are not invited then?"

"Well, if you don't mind awfully..."

"No, you've earned your freedom. Just don't abuse it."

"We won't, we promise."

Mrs Porter duly kept her word and talked her husband around, including the bit about no supervision.

"Trouble is, if they have to invite teaching staff they have to invite everyone and then the whole school comes. Hardly what they want is it?"

Captain Porter agreed with his wife and gave his permission in return for some help for the kitchen staff in preparing the food for the barbecue. Although he was angry about the theft of the cake, Captain Porter was not going to let that disciplinary matter blot the Sixth Form boys celebrating. Captain Porter was fairly sure the blame for the missing cake lay with one or more of the Fifth Form boys. The Sixth Form had been in exams and the younger boys had been in supervised games.

"I am not sure about the Fifth Form. There is the little matter of the cake."

"Come on. That can wait until tomorrow, can't it? You can't punish a whole class just because of the thoughtless actions of one or two boys, can you?"

"You are right. As always." Captain Porter smiled at his wife. As usual he gave into her.

The advance party of the older boys left the school at six o'clock laden with the makings of a barbecue. Peter was in charge with Clancy who, as the most sensible boy in the party, was tasked with running the barbecue itself. Pip appointed himself assistant cook. Mr Wallace, who fancied himself as something of a barbecue expert, was roped in to get the barbecue going properly. Mr Wallace set up the barbecue early with Clancy and Pip's help.

"Get it so the whole tray has white glowing charcoal. Otherwise it won't cook properly."

He left them with a fire blanket and, with Captain Porter's blessing, some cider mixed with lemonade.

"Make sure that you share that out equally. I don't want any drunken Sixth, or even

worse, Fifth Formers coming back later. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, sir. We won't let that happen."

"Well, Morgan, you're in charge. Make sure it doesn't."

As he left, Mr Wallace placed a whistle on the table.

"Just in case, for emergencies. You can attract attention with that."

Jonathan and Sacha came with the Fifth Formers and the remainder of the Sixth Form half an hour later. Captain Porter saw them off.

"Enjoy yourselves, boys and don't lose anyone tonight. I expect to see you all back in one piece."

"We will, sir." The boys sang out in unison and made their way down the steep path to the Cove. Sacha teased Jonathan on the way down. "We've got a special surprise for you later on."

"What's that?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, but I think you will be one to appreciate it more than most."

Jonathan was intrigued. He could not guess what it was.

By the time the other boys arrived, the barbecue was performing as planned under the careful stewardship of Clancy with some assistance from Pip. Owen eagerly eyed the pile of sausages and freshly made beef burgers cooking on the barbecue. As the boys picked up their paper plates of food and the cider shandy or bottles of pop, they sat on the sand or surrounding rocks, happy to listen to the rasping of the sea as the tide came in. Satisfied that everyone was fed and enjoying themselves, Peter took it on himself to say something.

"I hope you are enjoying yourselves. Just don't take too much of the drink and Owen, that advice refers to the food as well as the drink."

The boys laughed at Owen's expense. Owen himself was happy, as he was halfway through a giant beef burger that he had assembled, his face smeared with ketchup. Left to their own devices, the boys milled around happily in the balmy heat of a hot June evening. Chapel Cove was a complete suntrap. Most of the boys who wanted to swim were already appropriately attired. Gradually they made their way into the water where a couple of beach balls were used to good effect.

Sacha swam over to Pip. Pip was gingerly floating on a rubber tyre trying to keep his still vivid scar clear of the water as the cold reminded him of his recent operation.

"I think we should go up to Parson's Leap now if we are going to do it."

Pip had rather hoped that Sacha might have abandoned this idea but evidently not.

"Okay, but you know I can't jump and there won't be anyone at the bottom. You've got to get it right."

"We had a good look that time we swam down there. I know where to jump and it's high tide now. I'll be fine."

Apart from his tee shirt Sacha left his things behind on the beach and climbed the path with Pip. Pip stopped by the table and picked up the whistle.

"What's that for?"

"We can use this to get everyone's attention."

"Oh, that's a good idea."

Their departure was not unnoticed. Jonathan spied them halfway up the cliff. He guessed that this was to do with the surprise. Sacha turned. He saw Jonathan's gaze and quickly signalled for Jonathan to join them. Jonathan climbed out of the water in one athletic move. Dripping wet he walked up the path following them at a distance, ignoring the sharp stones that attacked the soles of his feet.

At the top Pip and Sacha made their way to Parson's Leap. Carefully they reconnoitred the precise place to jump, lying on their stomachs to prevent the other boys below seeing them, the two piles of rocks still marking the spot as before.

"It's here. You can see right to the bottom, no rocks. So just stay this side of the rock and don't do what I did and step right on the edge as it is all crumbly."

"No driftwood or anything, is there?"

"None that I can see."

Sacha looked down again and checked. It was quite a drop, at least twenty foot, but nothing floated on the surface.

"When you jump, keep your legs together and arms against the sides and your toes pointed downwards. That should minimise the impact. I got it all wrong last time."

There was a rustle behind them. Pip and Sacha turned. It was Jonathan, creeping up on them on all fours.

"So this is your little surprise, is it, Sacha?"

"What are you doing here?"

Jonathan pointed at Sacha. "He invited me. You didn't exactly hide when you left. Luckily I don't think anyone else noticed or cared. A couple of other boys came up, but they went off back to school. The water is getting cold now the sun has gone behind Star Point."

"So now you know?"

"Sort of."

"Well do you want to come, sort of? Pip can't jump because of his appendix scar."

Of all the boys at The Rocks, Jonathan was most likely to be game. Jonathan lay down besides Sacha and looked down. "It's awfully high up and what about the rocks they keep talking about?"

"Those are over there." Pip pointed them out to his right.

"Here you are okay. Just get as far out as possible and go in as straight as possible. It must be twenty feet deep here now the tide is in and look, you can see right to the bottom."

Jonathan peered down, hands over his eyes. It didn't take him long. He rose back onto his knees.

"Right then, the sooner the better, Sacha."

"Okay, Pip, you've still got the whistle?"

"Of course."

"Blow it and then we go. That should attract their attention in time for them all to see."

Sacha gave up his tee shirt to Pip and then paced out a run up.

"Ready?"

The two boys looked at each other and nodded.

"Okay."

Pip gave three long blasts on his whistle. He could see heads turning below.

"One, two, three..."

The boys ran side by side and leapt off the cliff, hands up and not by their sides. After a long second they entered the water cleanly with two simultaneous splashes. There was silence. Pip looked down, out of the boiling water two heads emerged. Jonathan gave a thumbs up. From below some whoops and cheers could be heard from the other boys. Gathering up Sacha's tee shirt, Pip made his way down the path to the Cove again as Sacha and Jonathan emerged triumphant from the water.

Peter was not pleased, firstly because two Fifth Formers had broken the rules and secondly, even more so, because one of the rule breakers was his own brother.

"Sacha, you broke the rules. You know we are not allowed to jump there because of the rocks."

"I know that. We checked. If you go in where we did it's perfectly safe," Sacha flared at his brother. The two brothers faced off to each other, but Clancy intervened.

"Stop it! We have to get this stuff cleared up. Otherwise we will never get permission to do this again."

Peter turned away, his fist clenched. He had been meaning to teach his brother a well-deserved lesson in public, but Clancy's intervention put a stop to that.

"Okay, but it was a damned stupid thing to do, Sacha. Come on, let's get cleared up."

The boys made their way up the cliff path to be met by Mr Durrant rushing in their direction.

"I heard someone give three blasts on the whistle. Was there a problem?" The question was addressed to Peter. Unhappily he found himself having to lie to a teacher in front of all the senior boys.

"Oh no, sir, just some dispute over the rules of water polo. That's all."

The smirks told Mr Durrant a different story, but he decided not to pursue it having counted all the boys and noting they were all present and did not appear to have come to any harm.

Back in the kitchen Cook was waiting for all the dishes to be returned. Sacha walked in with the missing cake tin without giving the matter any further thought. Jonathan who was laden with plates had given it to him along with several serving dishes, the remaining pieces of cake hidden inside his tee shirt for tonight. Cook spotted the tin straightaway.

"My favourite tin. I wonder where that came from?"

By then Sacha was leaving, but Cook noticed who had left it and she was not about to let the matter drop. As she left that evening, she mentioned the matter to Mrs Porter.

"Mrs Porter, a Fifth Former came back with an empty cake tin just now. I bet he took the cake earlier."

"Which boy was that?"

"Oh, Peter Morgan's brother, the red head."

"Sacha? That is a surprise."

*****

Chapter 14 - Summer Term 1968

Later that evening Mrs Porter updated her husband, Captain Porter, about the missing cake.

"That missing tin, minus the cake of course, turned up after the barbecue. Cook saw the boy who brought it in. Sacha Morgan."

"Morgan? I am at surprised at that. Let's see if anyone else can throw some light on this sordid little affair."

Captain Porter made some enquiries of Mr Wallace.

"So you took the Senior Game this afternoon?"

"Yes, Captain Porter."

"Were all the Fifth Form boys present?"

"Yes, all of them, most were playing cricket, but I let Pierce and Morgan Junior go off and play tennis. I checked up on them, mind. They were playing all afternoon."

"Thank you, Mr Wallace. I am investigating the little matter of the cake. It seems that Pierce and Morgan are the prime suspects. You could not have been watching them all the time."

"No, Headmaster, and they are of an age when they should be trusted, but I am sure no harm was meant by it."

"As you say, I would like to think we can trust our Fifth Formers, but alas it looks like this is not the case in this instance. This whole thing has upset Cook and it could potentially have ruined an important day for the school. You have to nip this sort of behaviour in the bud, Mr Wallace."

"Yes, Headmaster, I agree. Those two need to learn a lesson."

The following morning Captain Porter made an announcement at the end of morning assembly.

"Morgan Junior, report to my study immediately."

The hushed silence that followed was immediate and profound. The boys all looked at each other. They knew Sacha was in big trouble for something; perhaps it was yesterday's dive into the water? But who had told and if so why wasn't Jonathan called up as well?

As Sacha left in silence, Peter wanted answers. He went straight to Jonathan as they walked out of assembly.

"Why has Sacha been called to see Captain Porter? It must be something serious and he was with you most of yesterday, wasn't he?"

Jonathan knew better than to try and fool Peter. "Sure, he was with me all of the afternoon. We were playing tennis together, remember? I am not absolutely sure, but perhaps someone sneaked on us doing that jump yesterday? But then why wasn't I called out as well?"

"True. Anything else then?"

"Well, we took a cake from the kitchen yesterday afternoon whilst you were in your final exam. We had a midnight feast with it."

"We?"

"I fetched it. It was on the table, but Sacha was there. He kept watch for me."

"You mean you and he stole a cake?"

"Yes, if that is how you want to put it."

"Well, that is how Captain Porter would put it. You know that well enough. So how does he know it was you two then?"

"We were the only two not in the senior game. We played tennis instead. A bit obvious. I didn't think of that and then Sacha forgot about it being a secret and returned the tin after the barbecue.

"That was more than a bit dumb, wasn't it?"

"Well, Sacha didn't think about it. Cook saw him put the tin back perhaps? Pip had some cake too."

"Him too?"

"Well. yes."

"You little rat, Pierce. You've just dropped my brother right in it. If anything happens to him, you and Cox are going to get it, understood? You are a lot smarter than Sacha when it comes to things like this. You should have looked after him."

"Sorry, Morgan."

"You will be."

Sacha walked to the study fearful as to what might happen. No one spoke to him. Was it the forbidden jump or was it something else? He was racked with guilt. When he got to the study door, it was shut. Taking a deep breath he knocked.

"Enter," came the reply and Sacha opened the door.

He had only been in the study once when he first visited the school last summer. Unlike the rest of the building it was lavishly furnished with two sofas and an imposing desk. However, most boys in trouble at The Rocks tended to focus on the simple low backed chair inconspicuously placed in the corner when they entered. Sacha had heard of it, but not seen it before.

"Shut the door and come over here."

Sacha did as he was told and stood on the spot indicated in front of the desk where Captain Porter was sat.

"Cook tells me you returned her missing cake tin yesterday evening. Is that so?"

"Missing, sir?"

"Missing since we had celebratory cakes on the lawn when one cake went missing, stolen in fact. Did you take the cake from the kitchen?"

Sacha had expected to be questioned about the jump from Parson's Leap yesterday. He had long forgotten about the cake. He wasn't sure how to answer, even though he knew the truth. There was also Jonathan to consider. How to answer?

"Well? Out with it boy. You are only making it more difficult for yourself."

Sacha took a deep breath. He knew he was better off telling the truth, unvarnished.

"Not exactly, sir. I was there, but really it was Jon..." Sacha stopped himself. Never betray another boy; that was the golden rule. Never be a sneak. Take the blame yourself, but he had already blurted out the name.

"No need for me to guess. Jonathan Pierce, am I right?"

Sacha was trapped. His heart sank. "I suppose so, sir."

"Come on, boy. You know exactly who it was, yourself and Jonathan Pierce, anyone else?"

"Just Pip, Cox, I mean. He had a slice as well."

Sacha had been caught unaware, unprepared. He had no invented story to tell so he just told it as he first remembered it, not thinking what it might sound like he was saying.

"Do you know how upset Cook was over this? She carefully prepared just enough cake for everyone and then you go and steal a cake just for yourselves, meaning that all the teaching staff had to miss out. Cook thought she had miscounted until she realised her favourite tin was missing."

"No, sir, sorry sir. I am very sorry."

Sacha was miserable. He had never really been in trouble at school before, at least not at The Rocks.

"Well, I had better speak to Pierce and Cox and hear their side of the story. Go and fetch Pierce and then go back to your lessons. I want to see you in this study at break time, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Sacha went back to his classroom and told Mr Wallace that Jonathan was to see the Headmaster. Jonathan knocked on the study door and entered when invited to do so. This was by no means his first visit.

"Well, what was your role in the saga of the missing cake?"

Jonathan decided to take the blame. "It was my idea to take the cake, sir. Morgan just kept look-out."

"So he was involved?"

"Sort of, I mean I don't think he knew what I was doing. I didn't tell him."

"But he saw you come out with the cake and then he ate some of it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Cox?"

"Sir?"

What had Sacha said? Jonathan hesitated. Pip had not known the cake was stolen. Sacha had dropped him in it, but Jonathan could see no reason why Pip should shoulder the blame for something he knew nothing about.

"We just met Cox on the cricket pitch. He didn't know where the cake had come from. He wasn't involved in going into the kitchen at all. That happened when he was still in his final exam."

"All right, I'll speak to Cox later. I will deal with you first."

Captain Porter wasted little time with Jonathan. He came around from his side of the desk and placed the small chair in front of the boy before going to the cupboard.

"You know the drill well enough, Pierce."

"Yes, sir."

A few moments later Jonathan emerged from the study, his face noticeably flushed. As soon as he thought he was far enough away from Captain Porter Jonathan risked a smile of bravado in case anyone was watching. Jonathan liked other boys to believe a visit to Captain Porter's study was nothing terrible.

Peter, upstairs in the Sixth Form, guessed what was happening. He had seen Jonathan walk back to his classroom from the study. In between lessons he went up to Pip, his voice cold with fury.

"I'll kill you both for this, getting Sacha into trouble," he hissed.

"But I don't know what it's about, honest."

"The cake stupid, the cake you stole with Pierce. You two have just got Sacha into almighty trouble between you."

"That slice of cake? You mean this is what this is all about? Jonathan and Sacha were together with the cake tin and Jonathan gave me a piece. I didn't know where it came from."

"Well, Jonathan's just had it from the Head and I am sure Sacha's next and if he is, you and Jonathan are to blame, got it?"

"I promise you, I didn't know anything about the cake until I was given a piece. Listen, if I am called in, I will do what I can. I am not going to blame Sacha. I wasn't even there."

"Well, hang around with some one your own age in future. Sacha's only a Fifth Former. Why hang around with him? Why keep sneaking off all the time alone with my brother?"

Pip wanted to answer, but decided it was best not to. He kept quiet, but hoped that this current fuss was going to blow over quickly, but he was worried sick about how Sacha would react to all of this.

Sacha had watched Jonathan return to the lesson. He gave no direct clues other than a secret smile, but Sacha noticed how carefully he sat down and how he shifted in his seat constantly.

On the brink of tears Sacha returned to the study at break time as ordered. Captain Porter told Sacha to sit down on the small chair. The boy needed a bit of advice he decided.

"I've called you back to tell you that Pierce has told me that he takes the blame for stealing the cake and for that he has been punished, but you are far from blameless in this. You should have told him to put it back once you realised what he had done, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir, I am sorry, sir. Once he had done it, I didn't know what I should do. I am sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"I did think of punishing you as well, but since it is the first time and you confessed and told the truth immediately, I am going to let you off this time, but don't disappoint me and make me regret that decision or it will be the worse for you. Understood?"

Sacha was relieved beyond words, but not for long.

"But apart from this incident I want you to think very carefully about what you get up to whilst you are here. You've started well, but it is very easy for a boy your age to get into mischief and earn himself the wrong sort of reputation. Get it wrong and you could ruin your chances in the future. Look, boy, you are scholarship material and I want you to get that scholarship. This school needs more boys like you. I can't afford to have you making a mess of things with incidents like this, understood? I am going to be keeping a close eye on you in future. Mark my words."

"Yes, sir." Sacha was reduced to a whisper.

"Look, Pierce is not a bad sort at all. It's just that he is a little immature sometimes and does not think. If you are with him, you may need to do that extra bit of thinking for him. Be here on another occasion like today and I will deal with you very firmly, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

But there was something else Captain Porter wanted to discuss with Sacha, something that was sitting at the back of Captain Porter's mind. The boy was new to the school and obviously quite innocent when he arrived, but he did not appear to be so now. Captain Porter wanted to find out more. He started obliquely.

"Now, who else have you been with this since you have been here? Your brother, naturally, but who else?"

Sacha paused a fraction too long in answering. "No one in particular. You know, other boys in my form."

"Really?"

Sacha averted his eyes; he was no good at lying. "Really, sir, I'm still making friends."

"Hmm, well, that is a good idea. Don't rely on just the one or two. Keep with a crowd. Better that way. Anyone in the Sixth Form for instance?"

Sacha felt he was cornered. "My brother of course and Cox and Clancy for instance."

Captain Porter ran through the Sixth Form names in his head. Following the incident in the showers last term it seemed unlikely that Sacha would be friendly with the Johnson twins. They seemed the most antagonistic towards Sacha if anything. Clancy was not surprising; he was the brains trust of the school. Everyone was friendly with him. The name of Cox worried him though. Cox's name had come up at the beginning of the school year over a suspected incident with Pierce. Warned off from spending too much time with Pierce, perhaps Cox had turned his attentions to Sacha?

"You know you really should hang around with boys your own age more. Hanging around with older boys all the time sometimes is not healthy, particularly for a boy your age."

Sacha did not know what Captain Porter meant, but he was beginning to guess. Fortunately, the bell for the end of break sounded just at that point. Captain Porter did not have enough to go on yet, but he knew he would investigate more. The bell was a convenient point to bring this conversation to a close.

"Anyway, it sounds like the next lesson is starting. You had better be on your way, but I will be watching."

Ashen faced Sacha emerged and walked slowly across the quad. Obviously aware that other boys were watching he kept his eyes averted. It had not been a pleasant experience for him. Whilst Jonathan could put on a display of studied indifference at any visit he made to the study, it was clear that Sacha would not have any war stories to tell later on that day.

Captain Porter sat and considered Sacha's answers. The boy clearly had other close friends. He had not seen him hanging around by himself. A quick check of the exeat permissions register that recorded all the boys leaving school at the weekend did not show Sacha leaving with Jonathan more than a handful of times, but the other Fifth Form names had no pattern. Captain Porter looked at the permissions book more closely and then decided to speak to the senior masters to see what they knew.

He saw Mr Barnes first. "Mr Barnes, I am just following up on Morgan Junior."

"Oh, you mean the cake incident? I don't see too much harm to be honest, Headmaster. Boys will be boys and all that. I am sure Jonathan Pierce took the lead. It is very much his _modus operandi_."

"Oh, the 'cake incident' as you call it. Don't worry. It is exactly what you say. Pierce has yet again managed to let his natural exuberance overpower his common sense and as a result he has paid his usual penalty. No, I am more interested in who Morgan mixes with. I mean, I have not seen him hanging around on his own, but when I asked him who his friends were, he clammed up very quickly."

"Well, I always assumed Peter, his brother, of course, but they do have a bit of an on off relationship to put it mildly. Are you aware of that?"

"Oh, now that is news to me. So who does he mix with?"

"Oh, the other Fifth Formers. He is quite a popular boy, I think. Other boys he does games with in the Second Game and because he is bright Cox, I think, and Clancy as well."

Mr Barnes had no suspicions, Captain Porter decided.

"Well, thank you for your help, Mr Barnes. I won't detain you."

Mr Durrant was next. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

"Who do you think Morgan Junior is friendly with? When I had a word with him earlier, he wouldn't say. I am just checking up. I want to make sure we are nurturing him with the better element."

"Well, he is bunk-mates with Pierce, of course. So it is no wonder they are friends. I think Pierce brings out his adventurous side, away from his brother who does try to overshadow him on occasions."

"Yes, I have already heard that as brothers there is something of a love hate relationship there."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I think they are close. Just Morgan Senior wants to make sure his younger brother knows who the boss is when they are at school together."

"And otherwise?"

"I think young Morgan has quite a wide range of acquaintances. He mixes easily with the other boys. He is never the wallflower that I have seen, popular with both his year and the Sixth I would say."

Captain Porter leapt on the last remark. "Who in the Sixth?"

"Well, apart from his brother naturally, Cox, oh, and Clancy of course. He spent a lot of time with Cox on the Skye trip. But perhaps Mr Wallace knows more?"

Mr Wallace largely confirmed the reports given by Mr Barnes and Mr Durrant.

"And on the way back from Skye, you had Morgan, Owen, the twins and Cox for two days. Who was Morgan mixing with in that group?"

"There wasn't much time for mixing. Morgan had that nasty knock when I skidded off the road, if you recall. After that he really wasn't socialising much for the rest of the journey, but the night we had to stay in the Ardvasar Inn there was very limited room and the boys had to share beds, split between two rooms."

"So who chose who to sleep with?"

"Well, it was largely a matter of common sense. The twins I assigned to a double bed, as they were the most obvious sharers. Owen, well he is somewhat large, so I decided he was for the single bed. Morgan I decided should be in the smaller bedroom and that left Cox and myself. There was an offer of a put-you-up bed in the living room with me, but well... but the innkeeper's wife decided that Morgan should have someone with him that night in case he needed anything. There was no room for the put-you-up and so it was Morgan who suggested Cox shared with him, but I would not read anything into it, Headmaster. It was the luck of the draw. They did not exactly volunteer to share, although it is true that Cox did not refuse either."

"But did they seem friendly, I mean, close friends?"

"Oh yes, Morgan shared the front seat with Cox when we drove to the ferry. In fact he sat on Cox's lap and fell asleep. I think that was why he was the one who got hurt the most. And during the trip, well, they seemed to hang around a lot together, the way some boys do. They have been hanging around together since last term. I gave the pair of them a lift into Penzance the weekend before this half term, just the two of them. So yes, I would say they were pretty close."

Mr Wallace, sensing the way this discussion might be going, backtracked slightly.

"Not that I have seen anything untoward between the two of them. When I gave them a lift, they were off to Mousehole to dive off the quay there."

"Oh, I see. Thank you, Mr Wallace. I think I begin to get the picture."

Captain Porter prided himself on being something of a detective. He knew how to look for patterns of behaviour. The easiest way to check was to look at the Sunday exeat permissions register. His pen in hand, Captain Porter circled all the occasions of Sacha leaving the school. Nothing untoward there, always with other boys, mostly Fifth Formers. On just a few occasions his older brother. Then he looked at the return register on the opposite page. He returned with his brother on the same few occasions. No surprises there. He also returned with other Fifth Formers twice, but on other occasions, he returned alone, not with the boys he left school with. There were no signs that Sacha and Pip had left school together except on the first weekend of last term.

The returns register was always a bit more rushed as the boys tended to return just before the curfew time and so often queued up and in the ensuing jam. Names could get mixed up or boys could separate. Captain Porter made a mental note to change the system so that the boys had to be recorded in the same groups they went out from next term.

Sacha's name circled from the beginning of Lent term in red ink, Captain Porter then went and circled Pip's name in green ink. Mostly Pip left with the likes of Clancy and Owen, but sometimes by himself. He normally left within a few minutes of Sacha, never more than ten minutes apart, but that in itself did not mean much. The boys tended to leave at the beginning of their free time. On return, however, Pip always came back in just a couple of minutes later and always alone apart from once or twice and on two occasions, the same two occasions as Sacha, he returned early, both boys alone. Not enough evidence for a conviction, but certainly enough evidence to raise deep suspicions.

Time to talk to Cox. Pip was summoned after lunch. Peter came up to the dormitory with the message. Pip worried as he went to the study. Jonathan and Sacha both said he was in the clear. So why the summons? Pip knocked on the door and entered when called in, closing the study door quietly, making sure it clicked shut. He must have winced as he walked across to stand in front of the desk. Captain Porter took pity. The boy was still recovering from his operation.

"Pull up that chair and sit down."

In front of the Captain was a folder. It had all Pip's reports in it, from the very first when he was just seven years old. It also had an extra piece of pink paper, the one that recorded any significant misdeeds. There was only one from the incident with Jonathan the preceding Michaelmas term. A second pink piece of paper would be a deep disappointment to Captain Porter as these reports were limited to just those incidents that suggested a criminal or deviant mind at work.

Pip started. He wanted it all over as quickly as possible. "About the cake, sir, I had a slice."

"And did you take part in its acquisition?"

"Sir?" Pip was puzzled; 'acquisition' wasn't a word he was entirely sure of.

"Did you go to the kitchen with Pierce and Morgan and help them get the cake?"

"No, sir, I was in my exam. I met them outside where they were sitting under one of the trees."

"So they just gave you a piece of cake then?"

"Yes, sir, that's all. Pierce gave me a piece of cake, sir, not Morgan."

Captain Porter sighed and put down the piece of paper he was holding. "Don't worry. That is what they both said. You didn't know where it had come from then?"

Pip was being offered a way out. He was relieved. "No sir, I didn't. I just assumed Cook had given them some cake."

"I agree that was an understandable assumption to make in the circumstances."

Captain Porter shut the punishment book. Only Jonathan had an entry in it after this incident.

"Well, I think we can close the page on this incident fortunately. Pierce has owned up along with Morgan. Fifth Form high jinx as far as I am concerned. I have dealt with Pierce and given Morgan a last warning over this incident."

Pip felt a wave of relief pass over him, but Captain Porter was not smiling. He sighed. He didn't like talking to boys about these sorts of issues. He took a deep breath. Time to get on with it.

"There is something else I want to talk to you about."

Pip felt alarm rising. This discussion was going to be about something else, something bad he sensed. Captain Porter turned to Exeat permissions register in front of him. "Almost every weekend, the exeat log shows that you and Morgan going off with a group of other boys within ten minutes of each and yet you both return alone on most occasions, again within a few minutes of each. Just the two of you alone, always."

As if to emphasise the point, the large loose-leaf folder used for signing out the older boys was placed in front of him. Captain Porter had gone through it for all of last term and the first weeks of this term.

"Well, I suggest we have a look at the signing out register."

Most weekends it was the same. Pip's name circled in green and then either shortly before or after Sacha's name circled in red. The same pattern on the signing-in register showed on the opposite page.

"Do you deny there is a pattern here? Apparently going out separately, but in reality, always at roughly the same time and then coming back also at roughly the same time?"

Pip took a deep intake of breath. There was no point in making this more difficult than it already was. Time to confess the truth. "No sir, we were together on most of those occasions."

"Most of those occasions? Surely almost every Sunday?" Captain Porter looked hard at Pip. Surely the boy was not going to deny what was happening? Pip guessed it would be easier if he was as precise as he could be in his answer.

"As far as I can recall, all the Sundays bar two, sir. When I think Morgan was with his brother."

"Well, it is not so difficult with the records. We keep them for your safety. So why the deception? Why the separate exits and returns? Just what were you up to with Morgan Junior?"

Pip was trapped. He looked down at his lap, his face blushing hot red. "Please, sir, nothing, sir, nothing at all. He was lonely to start with, a new boy. I went out with him the first Sunday and after that? Well, then it just became a habit. The two of us would go out together." Pip looked up. "Please, sir, you have to believe me. We didn't do anything wrong."

"Wrong, Cox? What do you mean by wrong?"

Pip felt the ground give under his feet. "I mean we didn't do anything. We just went for walks, chatted and stuff. I think Morgan was lonely, sir. I became his friend. His brother wasn't being very nice to him at the time."

"I am curious, Cox. Boys in this school do not generally socialise with boys from other years. I will ask you again. What were you up to, other than walking and talking as you put it?"

"Nothing, sir. Really, we did nothing other than what I've just said."

"Is this a repeat of what occurred between you and Pierce at the beginning of this year? I sincerely hope not."

"Sir?"

Captain Porter leaned forward on his desk and lowered his voice as if to avoid what he was saying being overheard by others. "Your relationship with Pierce, boy. It was becoming a little too close. I did give you a friendly warning, did I not?"

"Oh," was all Pip could bring himself to say.

"That is why I had you moved into a different dormitory, to separate you from Pierce." Captain Porter played with his pen. "Cox, I had hoped you had come to your senses after I suggested you kept more distance from younger boys like Pierce, but the evidence of these last two terms suggests you have not. You have been spending a great deal of time with young Morgan, too much time, more than is healthy for you and certainly more than is healthy for young Morgan. You've excluded your old friends, Owen and Clancy, for instance. What price their loyalty?"

In the eyes of Captain Porter an unfortunate pattern was emerging with Pip. Pip seemed to be having 'unsuitable' relationships with other boys. Nothing so definite as being caught _in flagrante_ , which could of only led to one course of action, but enough evidence of a pattern of behaviour to worry the Captain.

"Can you tell me what it is about? I mean first with Pierce and now with Morgan Junior?"

The Captain was a fair man. He wanted to give Pip the opportunity to walk out of this if he could come out with a convincing explanation, but Pip's flushed expression and refusal to look the Captain in the eyes suggested that Pip was unsuccessfully trying to hide his feelings of guilt.

"I don't know, sir. Honest I don't."

There was a silence. The school would not survive a scandal. Captain Porter knew he had to eliminate any such behaviour and, if necessary, remove any boys with such tendencies.

"Don't know? I doubt it very much. I suspect you know very well what we are talking about here. I suspect you wanted to take advantage of a younger less mature boy. Morgan would be an easy one to dominate, as he was new to the school and to the country. Pierce, I think, can stand up for himself, but Morgan, he's vulnerable, immature for his age in many ways. I have to protect him. His parents are half way around the world. I have to say that I think you are having an unsuitable relationship with Morgan Junior, one that is not healthy for either of you."

Captain Porter would liked to have been more definite on the subject, but he just did not have the evidence to support a more substantial charge other than that of an 'unhealthy interest.' Unless Pip was prepared to confess, his hands were tied.

"It is the sort of business that can tear a school such as ours apart. If word got out that I tolerated such relationships at The Rocks I know some parents would remove their sons leading to the possible closure of the school. I am compelled to act regardless of what you say or deny. Do you understand me? The merest hint of this could escalate into a scandal and finish off this school, do you understand?"

"Two terms ago I had concerns about your behaviour with Pierce, the time the two of you spent together hiding with no one around, but I see that was just the tip of the iceberg when I look at the records in this book. It looks as though you have not mended your ways. Morgan is still very much an innocent, something his mother had emphasised when I persuaded her to enrol him at the school."

Pip sank lower into the chair. He did not fully understand what Captain Porter was implying, but he knew that his relationship with Sacha was now deemed unsuitable, more so than his relationship with Jonathan. Pip in his heart knew that was why he had taken a lot of steps to hide his relationship with Sacha these last two terms.

"Is this similar to your goings on with Pierce for example?"

"No, sir, not with Pierce, it wasn't like that. Nothing happened with either, sir, nothing."

Captain Porter asked the question twice more in different ways and twice more Pip denied anything happened, twice. Pip clammed up. He could not answer for things that had not happened. In the end the Captain decided that it was probably best not to press further. He did not wish to hear any possibly sordid details emerge, as he knew, if he did hear some things, it would not just be Pip it could involve. It would involve Sacha, Jonathan and possibly others. Like most Headmasters at a school like The Rocks, Captain Porter knew it was best not to know what some of his older pupils got up to. Captain Porter wished he had paid more attention to his wife's observation on meeting Sacha for the first time.

"Taking Alexei Morgan on this late is a bit of a risk. He's never been to boarding school and I think he is going to be rather impressionable. I don't imagine Peter will spend much time looking after him. Look how young he appears."

But Captain Porter knew the school needed the fees from having an extra boy badly and so he put his reservations to one side and accepted Sacha as a Fifth Form pupil. Captain Porter shut the signing out register and turned to the now cowed Pip, pale faced and close to tears.

"This can't continue, Cox, this 'special friendship'. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Pip quaked as he realised what he was saying.

"This friendship has to be over, understood? No more secret meetings, no more secret fraternising with Morgan, understood? Keep clear of him. This is absolutely the last warning I give you. There will be no next time. I will ask your parents to remove you for the rest of the term if necessary." Captain Porter paused before delivering the final possible sanction. "And if that happens, I will have a duty to inform your new school as well. They may not take you as a result. You do realise that, don't you?

"Well, in order to avoid any further misunderstandings, this is how things are going to be for the remaining three weeks of this term. You are to have no further contact with Morgan Junior. You must try to avoid him. Indeed you are to avoid any situation where you are alone with any other boy in this school and you are to tell the master on duty where you are when you are off school premises and who you are with. I suggest you stick to Owen and Clancy. They are your friends after all."

"Yes, sir."

"Promise?"

Pip heard himself say the words he dreaded. "Yes sir, I promise to not have any contact with Morgan for the rest of term."

"Well, that is the end of our discussion. I really do not want to have to talk on this subject further. I suggest you go back to your dormitory. I think you need time to reflect on what I have said to you."

Pip felt his every move was as if through thick treacle, his hearing tuned to nothing. Slowly he left the study, mouth dry and, like an automaton, headed to the dormitory. He didn't want to see the other boys, none of them. In the dormitory Pip lay on his bed in silence trying to settle the maelstrom of thoughts running through his head. When the other boys came in before games Pip pretended to be reading a book, his mind in turmoil. Sensing something was seriously wrong, they decided to leave Pip well alone.

Eventually Pip decided he had to get away from all the other boys. He went to Matron complaining of a headache and was given some aspirin and the desired order to rest in the dormitory for the rest of the day, skipping supper and the visit to Chapel Cove that evening. Slowly Pip's thoughts crystallised to only one thing. He had to speak to Sacha just the once, just to explain. It might possibly the last time they could speak properly. That very thought left Pip in the deepest gloom.

Sacha too had been in deep thought. The look he received from Mr Durrant that afternoon told him he was in disgrace, an uncomfortable feeling. Although he had exchanged glances with Jonathan in class, he had not found out what was being said, but he knew that he must have been one of the topics of discussion. Of Pip there was no sign.

A chance for a chat with Jonathan had to wait until the end of the day at shower time. Sacha always took his time going into the shower. The communal aspect of it was something he was still not comfortable with. Once most of the boys had returned, hair and bodies still damp, Sacha went to the showers, towel in hand followed by Jonathan. The two boys sat on the bench to the side of the shower room door in just their underwear, towels in hand, waiting for the two previous boys to leave.

"I guess that was your first visit to the study then, Sacha?"

"It was at this place and hopefully the last too."

"Probably not the last for me. I am never that lucky."

Jonathan removed his underwear and Sacha did likewise as the other boys emerged, shaking water off and towelling their bodies, one shy, and one not so shy. Sacha went in first, Jonathan second. The boys busied themselves washing in the warm jets of water. The doors to the shower room always open so the master on duty could check on progress. Sacha concentrated on washing his hair, the soap running down in thick trails down his back, deep in thought. He did not have to ask Jonathan what had happened. The marks were obvious. Sacha felt embarrassed he had not shared the same fate as he had done the same thing. Jonathan had noticed too.

"It looks like he let you off this time."

"He said next time, if something similar happened, I would be punished. I guess that's what he meant at least."

"Oh, yes, next time you'll join me in the punishment book. Don't worry."

"So I am in disgrace? Mr Durrant seemed to think so."

"Oh, don't mind Durrant. He is always a bit anti mischief makers."

"Oh."

Jonathan filled Sacha in. "I told Captain Porter it was all my fault. No point dropping you in it as well. Not that Durrant accepts that sort of thing. In his eyes you are now officially a member of the naughty club. He will be keeping a close eye on you from now on."

When the Sixth Form boys went up to their dormitories, there obviously had been some talking amongst them. Already there was a distance opening between Pip and most of the other boys. Just Owen and Clancy even acknowledged him. At bedtime Pip said a muted goodnight to his dormitory companions and tried to sleep. The other boys didn't press him.

Whilst he lay awake that night, Pip composed a short note in his head, apologising to Sacha for causing him so much trouble.

"Sacha,

I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you. I just want to explain things to you. Can we meet? We will have to keep it very secret, perhaps at night? You can give an answer to Owen. He will get it to me.

Pip."

Pip wrote the note during break the next morning and gave it to Owen to deliver. Directly handing it to Sacha was out of the question.

"Please, do me a favour. Put this under Sacha's pillow for me."

Owen looked Pip in the eyes. He was still Pip's friend despite Pip's recent behaviour and disloyalty. "Okay, I will, but be very careful. You are being watched by all the teachers and by Peter as well."

Owen guessed what the note might contain. However, he knew Pip trusted him not to read it. So he did not look. Instead, in a quiet moment after lunch, he sneaked into Sacha's dorm and slipped the note under Sacha's pillow. Pip waited anxiously for a response. Agonisingly there was none. Peter took Sacha to one side that afternoon and forced him into the 5W bathroom, holding Sacha by his arm so tightly that the younger boy winced in pain. Sacha was forcibly sat down on a footlocker as his brother pressed him.

"What did Captain Porter say to you? Come on tell me. He did more than just give you a lecture about the cake, didn't he? You were in there for ages. Did he punish you?"

"No, he didn't. I thought he would, but he didn't. Captain Porter just gave me a long lecture. He told me to be more careful and watch Jonathan and Pip he told me to stay clear of."

"Jonathan I can understand, but really he's okay, but Cox? Why was he more concerned about Cox? What have you been up to with him? Go on. Tell me. What have you been doing with him?"

Peter tightened his grip on Sacha's arm. It was always the way he got information out of Sacha if he was not forthcoming.

"Ow! You're hurting me."

"Well, go on then. Tell me and then you can go. What have you been up to with Pip?"

Sacha, fearful of his brother's anger, began to talk reluctantly. "We've been out a few times together, you know, Sundays, especially last term."

"Funny. I never knew that. You always went off with other Fifth Formers. At least that's what I saw."

Sacha realised he had told his brother something that he did not know. "Well it was only a couple of times. We went to St Ives and to Sennen for instance."

"Sennen, gosh, that's a long way, sort of hiding like. Why? Why the secrecy?"

"I don't know why. It seemed sort of fun, no one knowing."

Peter suspected there was more to it than just 'fun'.

"So what did you do? Alone in St Ives or Sennen?"

Peter went for one final push, based on what Jonathan had told him. "And when you went up Trendrine with him during cricket?"

"We just talked and stuff. Nothing more."

"But alone, never with anyone else? Even on Trendrine?"

Sacha paled at the mention of Trendrine. "Yes, alone."

Peter was less than satisfied. Like Captain Porter, he suspected more might be taking place than just 'talking'. "Well take my advice. Stay clear of Pip. Do you understand? No contact. Ignore him, understood?"

"Oh Peter! It's not like that, really, nothing, nothing at all."

Sacha was miserable beyond words. He struggled to free his arm. "You're really hurting me."

Tears were forming in his eyes. Why was Peter being so cruel to him? Peter tightened his grasp. "Come on, tell me what you did. I want to know."

Sacha pleaded, tears in his voice. "All right! Pip, Pip kissed me. He kissed me just the once, honest."

Sacha didn't know how or what to say. He just wanted the intense pain his brother was putting him through to stop. He came out with just one thing, but it was enough. Peter had started this conversation without any idea what Sacha was up to with Pip. Now he wished he had not asked.

"Jesus! Did you tell Captain Porter that?"

The look on Sacha's tear-stained face, crumpled, defeated, hurt Peter almost as much. Peter had shown that he had no trust in his own brother. Peter had failed also in his duty to look after Sacha.

"No, I didn't tell Captain Porter. Peter, I am sorry, but Captain Porter said the same as you. He's told me to keep away from Pip."

Sacha knew he had let Peter down. He had let his whole family down.

"Listen, not a word to anyone about this, anyone, Sam even. It's best that no one else knows. Listen you've got to be more careful." Peter made his ultimate threat. "Stick with Pip and you'll become a queer like him. You could go to jail for what you two did. No one likes queers, especially at public school. Understand? Captain Porter's absolutely right to tell you to keep clear."

"But Pip's my friend."

"And what a friend he has turned out to be. Look what he did to you. He could make you queer. You don't want that and I certainly don't want a queer as my brother, understood?"

"I know, I know. I won't. I promise."

Peter let go of Sacha's arm. He was embarrassed to see a white patch where he had held it so tightly. Sacha rubbed it, tears flowing, eyes pleading. Sacha was now full of fear of any further contact with Pip. Not only had the lecture from Captain Porter frightened him. So had the much blunter warning from his brother. So when Sacha got into his bed that evening and found the note under his pillow with Pip's writing on it he took one glance at the writing, crumpled it up, and threw it in the bin. Sacha did not want anything more to do with Pip, especially now.

Come morning, Sacha discreetly retrieved the message and disposed of it. He did not want anyone else to see it, no matter what the content.

Next morning, without telling Pip, Owen asked Jonathan if Sacha had received a message from Pip.

"He got a note, I think. I mean who else would give Sacha a note just now? He took one look at the writing and tore it up. I don't think he read it at all. It wasn't in the bin in the morning."

Owen gently broke the news to Pip. "I asked Jonathan. Sacha didn't read it. He threw it away as soon as he saw it."

Pip was beyond downcast. "Oh."

"Sorry, Pip."

Pip was hurt and humiliated. He felt the whole school was watching him. He wrote another note, but tore it up before even trying to persuade Owen to play messenger boy again. Suppose Captain Porter had found out about it? He knew what would happen. Sick, Pip gave up.

Sacha had his own questions. One he could not ask his brother and so he turned to Clancy who everyone trusted. Sacha used the opportunity of a school cricket match as he waited to bat and Clancy acted as scorer.

"Clancy, what does 'queer' mean?"

Clancy pondered this. He knew the answer, but was not entirely sure how he should pitch his answer to Sacha. In the end he decided not to go into too much detail.

"Well if a man fancies a woman or indeed a boy fancies a girl that is being heterosexual; that is what most people are. That's how babies come about."

"Yes, I know that bit. I have been told all about the birds and bees."

"Well if a man like a man or a woman likes a woman, then that is homosexuality. Enjoying the same sex in a sexual way."

Clancy did not want to go further. He knew what homosexual activity entailed from his reading of a history of ancient Greece, but for those who did not know, it might be a bit too graphic.

"And that's true if a girl likes a girl or a boy likes a boy?"

"That's right. A boy who likes another boy might be called many things, but one vulgar description is to call that boy 'queer'. There are many other insults of a similar nature. You can see those written on any public toilet wall, I am sure."

Sacha's face clouded over. Did this mean things were not right? Now he was beginning to understand or at least he thought he did. "You mean 'not right' like a disease or something? Is that true?"

"It is a topic of much debate. In history it has been common in some societies, the ancient Greeks for example, but in most societies it is seen as deviant behaviour and a just cause of persecution. However, some countries, including ours, now at least tolerate it between consenting adults in private, but it was only made legal between adults here since last year, but you have to be twenty-one."

"Oh, thanks."

Twenty-one? Sacha was only twelve and besides, he did not think it was true he was queer. Even with Pip Sacha had thought of a girl, a friend of Sam's. Sacha, deep in thought, left Clancy to read his book. Clancy did not say any more and kept the conversation between himself and Sacha strictly private. He had heard the rumours from others, but would not be party to spreading them further.

Pip and Sacha went their separate ways, as much as it was possible in a small boarding school like The Rocks. Sacha unhappily settled down to swimming and playing cricket with the other Fifth Formers in his spare time in an effort to keep himself out of trouble, Jonathan his constant, but now cautious companion. Pip stayed at the margins. Owen and Clancy remained, but the other Sixth Formers kept their distance. Peter had not said anything to the others about his conversation with Sacha, but from then on he made clear that Pip was not in favour. So the other boys largely avoided him. Clancy provided the sole opportunity to escape. With Owen tagging along Clancy took Pip out of school whenever he could, walks and trips to St Ives, anywhere but school, which had now become a living hell for Pip. Captain Porter had one other task to perform with the Sixth Formers before the end of term. He took them into the art room and lectured them on the mechanics of sex. Pip sat at the front of the lecture, next to Clancy. He knew Clancy would be the only boy with enough confidence to ask one or two questions. Pip kept his eyes straight ahead. Somehow he felt the whole Sixth Form were looking at him. A shared knowledge of his 'beastliness' was in the air, unspoken, but there.

At first Captain Porter mentioned the story of the parson's wife and her young lover.

"The stable boy was about your age, but still more than capable of making the parson's wife pregnant. It happened then. It can happen now."

Then, as always, Captain Porter got onto the real topic of his lecture, warning boys against 'mucking around' with other boys.

"Whilst I may be able to help you in most situations, the one I cannot help you with is if you commit immoral acts with another boy. At public school that is always an offence that will result in instant expulsion."

Lecture over, the Sixth Form went their separate ways. Pip walked off alone down to the coast path. He used a stray branch to blaze a path through the vegetation as he tried to work off some of his anger at how things had turned out. As he walked he struck this way and that at the tall leaves of the wild rhubarb that dared cross his path. Nothing was ever going to be the same again he realised.

*****

Chapter 15 - Summer Term 1968

The first week since Pip had been told to have no contact with Sacha had been particularly awkward for both boys. In The Rocks it was almost impossible for their paths not to cross several times a day. These moments passed with sudden distractions, steps to the side and chance conversations with anyone who happened to be around. Sacha was sad that things had led to a parting of the ways with Pip. Every time he saw Pip, Sacha averted his eyes or even took another route to avoid him. Every so often Sacha would spy Pip at a distance, rarely with anyone these days other than Clancy and Owen. There was that longing look in his eyes, but if Pip noticed Sacha, Sacha instantly turned away, scared by the warnings from his brother and Captain Porter.

Just once the two boys paths crossed when no one else was immediately around, Sacha, late to Chapel Cove, as he had played Mr Wallace at tennis, and Pip returning early. They eyed each other warily as their routes coincided. Someone might be watching. They could not risk anything; both knew that. Pip paused as they passed on the narrow track.

"Sacha, I'm sorry."

"Don't. Please. I've got to go," whispered Sacha. Not even pausing for a second as he skirted around Pip on the path. The boy was scared, uncomfortable. Would Pip do anything rash? The moment passed. Sacha was determined to make a complete break. It would be easier that way. It was just awkward, especially since he missed Pip more than he thought he would. There had been something special in their friendship, something Sacha could not quite explain to himself. What he did decide was that Pip had a soft spot for him, which he had for no other boy. Sacha realised that something like that must have happened many times at the school.

But apart from Pip, Sacha realised he had few close friends. There was his brother. He knew that was a special relationship, one he would have for the rest of his life. He was also a good friend with Jonathan, but not in a way that he could share confidences like he had with Pip. Sacha knew that he was unlikely to share such confidences with another boy ever again, the risks, the price too high.

Sacha now spent most of his time with Jonathan, but rarely alone with him. Apart from Jonathan, Sacha kept with his fellow Fifth Formers and avoided the Sixth Formers other than Clancy and Peter who he now spoke to a couple of times a day. Sacha was conscious that Peter was now keeping very close tabs on him. Sacha arrived down at Chapel Cove to be met by Peter.

"What have you been up too? Cox has only just gone up."

"Playing tennis with Mr Wallace. He's jolly good."

"He is. You shouldn't come down alone."

"But there was no one else. Mr Wallace had to go into town."

"Keep in sight. We can go out by Wicca Cove later. Okay?"

For Sacha, having Peter as his brother meant that some Fifth Formers were in awe of him, but Sacha had never played his big brother to his advantage. Jonathan was sure that Sacha was independent of his brother, but he took great care to avoid any sort of trouble after a heavy warning from Peter.

"I don't want Sacha in any kind of trouble again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Morgan."

"I mean it. Just think what you do. You can enjoy yourself with him without getting into trouble. What I am saying is that I trust you, strange as it may seem. So don't let me down and above all, don't let Sacha down."

Normally Jonathan would have risen to such a comment. Jonathan sometimes felt that everyone was always singling him out as the school's bad boy, but with Peter he decided to keep his peace and just nodded in agreement. Anyway, Sacha was generally good fun so long as he was not in one of his black moods. Of their shower encounter nothing more was said by either Jonathan or Sacha. It was conveniently forgotten for now.

For Pip, from never wanting to leave The Rocks, he now found himself crossing off each day to the end of term. At the end of the week Captain Porter came into the Sixth Form carrying a sheaf of papers with him, the results of the Common Entrance exams.

"I will start at the top with the best news."

Captain Porter turned to Clancy.

"Well done, Clancy. You have got the top scholarship for your new school. We all knew you had it in you."

Pip joined in the celebrations, mainly because Clancy so clearly deserved to do well, but partly to hide his own sense of failure for not having done the scholarship himself.

"For the rest of you, I am pleased to say that all of you have got into your new schools, even if I did have to pull a few strings in one or two places."

Captain Porter looked at Owen meaningfully at this point.

"Cox, Morgan, you both did especially well. That is a particularly good result for Cox given the amount of time you lost in hospital and recuperating. Jolly well done all the rest of you."

There was a round of congratulations and Pip felt some of the ice was breaking with his fellow Sixth Formers. It was an improvement on recent days. Clancy came over to Pip.

"Oh, well done, that must be a relief for you. A bit worrying with all that time in hospital."

"Thanks and you too. Not that I am surprised at all."

"Well, I never count my chickens, but yes, I am really pleased of course."

Owen was on the periphery. Clancy spoke first. "Well done, Owen. You got the right result."

"Thanks, thanks, both of you. It was a bit touch and go, but Captain Porter put in a good word. I am going to a different school, though, one they say that is 'more suited' to boys like me."

"Well better to be somewhere comfortable, eh?"

"Yes, I guess you are right."

Mr Barnes realised that much was amiss with Pip. Along with the other senior teachers he had been warned to keep an eye on him. Mr Barnes did more than that. Sports Day was coming up and there were things to arrange. Mr Barnes set to involving Pip, as he was not going to be able to participate on the sports side of things. Clancy was already in charge of scoring and keeping a check on any school records that might be broken. So Pip, with Owen as his assistant, was put in charge of parking, a task that meant marking out the front lawn of the school as a car park for parents.

"Pip, last year parking was an absolute disaster. It took over half an hour to disentangle everyone."

"I know, sir. We were in one those cars tangled up, as you put it."

"Well, what do you think? Have you any ideas?"

"Well, I suppose that if we had guides that might help, but really the parking lanes were narrow and people were having trouble reversing and not knowing whether to go left or right to exit."

"Hmm, well, you have a day or so to get your ideas together otherwise, for bad or worse, it is the same system as last year."

"Okay, sir."

Pip was not keen at first, but then he applied his mind to it, remembering the chaos from previous years. He went to Mr Barnes two days later having looked at a number of ideas with Owen tagging along, glad to be recognised once more.

"What we need, sir, is a one-way system all around the car park, like a chicane, and then we need to move from parking at right angles to parking at 45 degrees, like this."

Pip produced a large piece of paper and showed the parking spaces arranged in a herringbone pattern – mostly drawn by Owen. Mr Barnes could see the logic, but knew he had better check. So he spoke with Captain Porter, Pip's drawing in his hand.

"Headmaster, this is what Cox and Owen are proposing for the car park, an attempt to improve on the traffic jams we experienced last year."

Captain Porter looked over the plan and made a few suggestions.

"That turn at the end of the cul-de-sac is too tight, but if we removed a couple of spaces it should work as would making the lanes a bit wider. It's a jolly good first attempt. I suggest you tell Cox and Owen to draw up a scale plan and then let's mark out a few spaces and see if it makes sense on the ground."

Mr Barnes reported the good news to Pip and then set Pip to work drawing up a scaled plan with some help from Mr Wallace and Owen. At least Pip was gainfully occupied with this task. He also found himself helping Mrs Prince label all the art works for the art exhibition that would be put on display on sports day.

For a while Sacha was noticeably more subdued than normal. Sam had picked up on her brother's change of mood in the letter he dutifully sent her once a fortnight. She telephoned the school and got to speak to him. Parents and relatives rarely telephoned. It was not encouraged as it 'unsettled the boys'. However, Sam was persuasive enough to convince Matron to fetch Sacha.

"I am sorry, Matron. I really need to speak to my brother."

"Well, if you think it is that important, I will go and fetch him from his reading break. I hope there isn't any bad news, is there?"

"Oh no, just tell him it is a social call, that I am checking up on him."

Matron was gone for a good two minutes. Eventually the telephone was picked up.

"Hello, Sam?"

"So how's my kid brother?"

"Okay."

Sacha was very quiet, not his normal habit with his sister. Sam could tell that Sacha was not going to be very forthcoming. That much was obvious.

"You don't sound okay and in your letter you sounded a bit blue."

"It's nothing." Sacha's voice tailed off. His guard was down and he desperately wanted to speak to his sister.

"Oh Sacha, what's wrong? Do tell me."

There was a pause.

"Some boys have been beastly to me. That's all."

"Really? I am not totally convinced, Sacha. Come on now. Tell me what it is, please."

"Oh, it's nothing, honest."

"It didn't sound like nothing in your letter. What's up?"

Sacha really didn't want to say any more. His arm was still bruised from where Peter had gripped him in an effort to extract the full story from him. He did not want to go through it all again.

"Is it Peter?"

"No! No, it isn't. It doesn't involve Peter. It was just – just the Johnson twins. They've been teasing me about my swimming," Sacha lied. He didn't want to involve Pip or Peter and the Johnson twins had come up once before, after their involvement in putting Sacha under the shower when he first joined The Rocks. Sam was not totally convinced, but knew she was unlikely to hear any more unless Sacha actually wanted to tell her, which he clearly didn't at the moment.

"Well, I am here if you need me and I will come down this weekend if you want me to. Is that clear?"

Sacha brightened up at the idea of possibly seeing his sister, but stopped himself.

"No, it's okay. I mean you are down soon. I mean for our sports day, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, but in the meantime, if you need me."

"Yes, I know. Thanks."

Their conversation over, Sam wrote to Peter and told him to spend some time with Sacha that weekend enclosing a small bribe.

"Sacha needs to get out of school, I think, a bit of a break. Why don't you take him into Penzance? You both need some clothes for the summer."

Peter knew better than to ignore his sister and so that Saturday Sacha went out with Peter. It was only their third time out together in two terms Sacha realised sourly, but he did not say anything about that to Peter, glad of his brother's recognition for once.

"I've got some money from Mum and Dad to celebrate my passing the Common Entrance. I am going to buy some clothes before going back to Hong Kong this summer. I was going to go shopping in Penzance. Coming? I've got some money for you too."

"Oh okay, that's a good idea."

For Peter and Sacha it was a bit of a novelty being allowed to buy their own clothes as normally their clothes were chosen for them by either their mother or sister Sam. The two brothers caught the bus and spent an hour or so buying shirts and other summer wear before Peter declared the task complete. Peter looked at the money left over. There was still a note available.

"I've still got some change. Fancy some fish and chips?"

"Oh great. Where will we go?"

"Oh, there is a great takeaway in Newlyn. It's where they land the fish so it is always really fresh."

The two brothers walked along the front to Newlyn, collected two portions of fish and chips and then ate them on the harbour wall, taking care not to let the seagulls eat their lunch for them.

"I've got a surprise for you."

Sacha looked up from his chips. "What's that?"

"We are going camping in France again with the cousins."

"Oh, will Emma be there?"

"Yes, and Natalie."

"Hmmm."

Both brothers agreed that their forthcoming holiday sounded like it should be enjoyable. The subject of Pip never came up. Peter kept clear of it. He was satisfied that Pip was staying clear of Sacha and Sacha likewise staying clear of Pip.

Sports day was the biggest day for The Rocks. It marked the end of term as the boys left at the end of the afternoon to disperse to their homes for eight weeks of the summer holidays. From all over the country, parents would gather to watch the boys in their athletic endeavours, say hello to the Headmaster and take their sons home. In the remaining two weeks leading up to Sports Day, the pace of activities was picking up.

As the end of term approached, more and more attention turned to athletics. The main sports field was marked out as a running track and the long and high jump pits were dug over to create safe landing zones. Each day the boys practised their athletic skills as cricket was increasingly put to one side. Every afternoon, the boys were dressed in their PE kit and practised athletics both during games and instead of prep in the evening. Only the evening visit to Chapel Cove was left untouched. That was a sacred summer ritual at The Rocks.

Pip and Owen painstakingly marked out the front lawn for parents to park on. For good measure they made signposts marking the entrance and exit routes for cars and posted them both north and south of the school on the main coast road. Flags in the green and purple harlequin colours of the school were tied to the posts at the front of the school. Five days before a large marquee arrived and was set up in the quad for afternoon tea on the day itself. To ensure that parents left with the best impressions of the school, a period of frantic activity took place. All the buildings were cleaned, the flowerbeds weeded and the lawns mown. Pip then spent three days solid working as Mrs Prince's assistant assembling the pictures and other exhibits for her art display. Uncomfortably Pip noticed that the entrance display was given over to his model and some of his more organic drawings he had done earlier that year.

"How do you choose which ones to put up?"

"Oh, a good spread. I try and get most of the junior boys displayed, older boys, well less so."

"How about mine? I mean there are a number of them."

"Oh, in your case I look for the distinctive ones, the ones that show your own style. You have really developed into quite an artist over the last couple of years. You use a very natural palette all the time, the greys, the blues, the golds, all influenced by what you see around you."

"That won't help me get into university, though."

"There is more to school than academic achievement and sport, Pip."

Together they pinned up some of the junior boys' work.

"I hope so. I mean, I can't do sport now and academia. Well, I didn't do the scholarship exams, did I?"

"No use crying over spilt milk, Pip. You are still just as capable as you were before, with or without the scholarship exam – just remember that."

Meanwhile Mrs Porter set to with the kitchen staff and caterers to ensure that a large welcoming spread of sandwiches was laid on for tea.

"No margarine, only butter," was her specific instruction, but she oversaw the choice of sandwiches, quiches and strawberries and cream and with Matron made floral displays for the marquee.

For Pip and his fellow sixth formers Sports Day was to be the last day at The Rocks before they moved onto public school. In a quiet, low-key ceremony the day before all the sixth formers were given their old boys' tie. The tie in the school colours had the school crest, a variant on the Cornish flag and underneath a motto allegedly saying 'Stand up and be counted' in Cornish; but no one could verify this.

"I hope you will all wear these ties with pride on future occasions and of course, we would love to see you return to The Rocks in future years, preferably with your own sons as pupils."

Sports day itself started early, all the boys in their PE whites. Pip was very conscious of the scar on his stomach; it still twinged. He found himself pulling down on his tee shirt, which was slightly too small for him in an effort to keep the scar hidden. Pip would not be taking part in any races this year as a result. However, like every other boy, he was still in his freshly laundered PE whites.

The parents arrived in their droves, cars polished, as this was the one day when all parents would be together with their offspring. Pip and Owen met the parents as they arrived and directed them to their parking spaces. Pip was inordinately proud that his parking system seemed to be working. It amused him to try and work out which parents belonged to which boy at the school. That Owen had glamorous parents was always a bit of a surprise. They turned up in an E-type, the dream car to most of the boys at the school. Apparently Owen senior had invented some industrial process that was enormously successful. Somehow this knowledge pushed Owen up in Pip's estimation. Pip's own parents dutifully turned up in a middle of the road Rover, not the Triumph TR5 that Pip had pleaded for last year. Pip's parents were normally quite good at these events, quite sociable although they did always insist on asking about their son's progress each year, which Pip thought very bad form. He hoped they would avoid the subject this year, as it would be embarrassing all round.

Unbeknown to Pip, there had been some discussions between his parents and Captain Porter after they were told about him not doing the scholarship. His mother was deeply disappointed. However, she brightened up when told that Pip could do the Scholarship exams in the autumn. So this term the usual discussion between Pip's parents and Captain Porter had been limited to his parents thanking him for his help in smoothing Pip's path into the public school of their choice.

Eventually a BMW turned up. It was the only one to drive into the school that day. Pip recognised Mrs Morgan and Sam. The driver of the car was unknown to Pip, but must be Mr Morgan. Mr Morgan held himself in a way that suggested he was very much at ease with himself.

Sam was looking very glamorous in a very short skirt. Pip caught her mother telling her to pull it down. "Otherwise you will be the object of fantasy for about fifty adolescent boys throughout the afternoon."

Pip, thinking Sam might know who he was and some of the story, was not keen to go near the Morgan family. Instead he sent Owen over to park them.

"Owen, your one chance to practise your wooing skills."

Owen duly parked them inch perfect and then led them, unnecessarily, back past Pip who was standing behind a table with programmes laid out on them.

"Oh you must be Jonathan. It's the hair."

Sam inspected him, perhaps with some admiration?

"Oh, ermm no, close though. Jonathan has absolutely white hair."

She looked at his hair again.

"More than just 'just fair'. It must be the sun down here."

She turned around, scanning the crowds. She really was quite dishy.

"We are looking for my two brothers, Peter and Sacha Morgan. Do you know where they are hiding?"

She craned her head a bit more, then turned back to Pip and smiled. "It's all right, I can see Peter. He's under starter's orders on the track now. Must go and cheer him on." Sam turned back to Pip and smiled brightly. "Well thanks anyway."

Pip was puzzled. He found Sam to be very attractive. He was not drawn at all to girls his own age, but like most boys could definitely see the attractions of the older teenage girl.

As the Morgan family headed to the racetrack for the 100 yards sprint, the start was fired. Pip should have been there. He was generally acknowledged as the school's fastest sprinter, but was now absent. In his place, moved up a year to fill the gap was Jonathan.

From the start the race was really between Peter and Jonathan, the fastest in the year below. The Johnson twins were also in with a shout, but they were really suited to longer distances.

The seniors' sprint was over very quickly. Jonathan led from the start and no amount of pent up determination could capture Peter his hoped for gold. He had to be content with silver instead. The bronze had to be shared between the Johnson twins. Mr Barnes did not have the heart to say who really won between the two of them.

Peter went up to Sam and his parents after the race with Jonathan, who was congratulated with handshakes all round. Jonathan was making overtures to Sam straight away and then Sam pointed in Pip's direction. Jonathan reached up on tiptoes and whispered into her ear, identifying Pip. Pip, feeling singled out, blushed. What had Jonathan said to her?

At that point Sacha appeared, unsuccessful for the long jump. Although a good all rounder, Sacha was never absolutely top in any athletics event, as that was a clean sweep for Jonathan in his year. However, Sacha had a clutch of silvers and one gold to his name for the Fifth Form sprint, largely due to Jonathan's promotion to the seniors' race. His freckles were glowing and his hair appeared even darker red than normal, as it was damp with sweat. In an effort to dry himself, Sacha pulled up his slightly over-sized tee shirt and rubbed his face. Sam, ever observant, promptly removed some strands of hair that had plastered themselves to his forehead and then knelt to retie the cord on his shorts, which were beginning to slip down more than they should.

"Honestly, Sacha, you're not a scarecrow.

"It's all right, Sam. I can do it."

"Too late." She pulled up his shorts firmly to a more suitable position and tied up the drawstrings in a neat bow.

"Any lower and everyone would know what religion you are." Satisfied with her adjustments, she smiled at him. "There, all done."

Sacha pulled away from Sam initially, but then allowing himself to be pulled closer to her as she pulled down his tee shirt, ran her fingers through his hair so it stood on end with the sweat and then planted the briefest of kisses on his forehead. A moment later Sacha's mother appeared. Sacha instinctively leaned into her and allowed her to hold his right hand across his chest for a couple of minutes. His mother stroked his hair and forehead as she whispered something intimate and amusing into his left ear before kissing the top of his head.

Meanwhile Pip's parents had walked around the main lawn, meeting up with old acquaintances, other parents and the teachers.

With all the car parking spaces taken, Pip went over and joined them. Pip's relationship with his parents was much more formal. He shook hands with his father and briefly kissed his mother.

"Hello, dear, better?"

"Yes, thanks. Oh, look, here's Mrs Prince."

Mrs Prince bustled over in her smart navy dress, much smarter than her usual artist's smock.

"Lovely to see you. I do hope you have seen Pip's work. He has been so busy in the art room this year. Look, let me show you."

Mrs Prince took Pip's parents off to see some of his work that year. At that point Sacha appeared with Sam. She had his hand firmly in hers. Sacha did not pull away. He was proud of his sister and the way she turned the heads of many of the older boys. The two of them came in at the other end of the art exhibition as Pip's parents left. Pip, not wanting to meet them, still took a risk to be close to them by moving around to the other side of the picture displays and following them from the other side fully hidden from view, eavesdropping as Sam and Sacha moved from one set of pictures to another. They paused in front of Pip's model.

"Oh this looks like a lot of work. Very intricate. Who did this?" Sam enquired.

They both looked at the label.

"Oh, that's Pip's. He did it when he was in hospital. We don't do much model work normally. Art, it's not really my thing."

"No, it's more Peter than you. Pip's work shows a lot of talent as a sculptor. Very organic in form. All the rage. I like it. "

"Those are his as well. Look they all relate to each other."

"Since when have you been an appreciator of art, Sacha?"

"Oh, it's Mrs Prince. She's really good at making you look at things, even if you are not much good at it yourself, like me."

"And me. Art is a complete mystery to me. All that side of mother went to Peter." There was a pause. "Pip? He's the one you told me had appendicitis? I think I saw him in car park. How is he?"

"Oh, he's okay, I think. I haven't talked to him much since."

"Oh, yes, I heard from Peter. Peter told me that there had been a falling out between you and Pip."

"Really? Peter should never have told you, I mean, it was nothing, really. Nothing to worry about"

Pip felt uncomfortable at being dismissed so easily, but then he would have made light of it too if asked.

"Don't worry. I can guess. Peter did not tell me himself. I forbade him to tell Mum and Dad. You caused an awful lot of worry as it is with being away from home and then that bump on the Isle of Skye. I guess it was just being away from home. Boarding schools can be a bit intense, you know, relationship wise. It was for me too when I started, crushes that sort of thing. It does happen."

"Crushes?"

"You get a bit too involved with someone and then you both end up getting bruised."

"Oh." Sacha started to shift uneasily. He didn't want to discuss the events of this term, even with his big sister.

"After your accident in Skye, Mum was all for having you back at school in Hong Kong so she could keep a closer eye on you. She still doesn't really trust her little baby bunny to look after himself."

Sacha was clearly embarrassed to be having this conversation in public.

"Not here, please, Sam! Listen, it was just an accident. There was no seat belt in the car." Sacha was trying to pull his sister away. "Look can we go now? Let's go outside. It's cooler there."

Sam continued. "Okay, you're right, but listen. Next year, if you want to stay or go back to Honkers, let me know. I promise to put it to Mum and Dad, whichever you prefer."

"You'll still be in Bristol next year, won't you?"

"Oh, yes, don't worry. Dad is buying me a car. I think it is so I can come down and see you more often to keep Mum happy."

"I want to stay here. I want you to know that. Next year, well, it will be different and I don't want to change school again."

"I will make sure the parents know. Don't worry."

Sacha wanted to change the subject. "Now, come on let's go and see the races. It's the senior 220 yards now, I think. Peter is in it."

"Okay, but I will be down to check on you next year much more than this year. You realise that, don't you?"

"I know. That's okay. In fact I would like you to come down more often next year. It's not going to be the same without Peter here."

"Good, then that helps get me the car and keeps Mum happy into the bargain."

Sacha and his sister went outside back to the sports field. At a distance Pip followed, close enough to observe, but far enough away not to be too obvious that he was following them. They were now all together as a family, chatting away. Twice their paths almost crossed. Pip moved out of their way and tried to look as though he was seeking his parents in the crowd.

The afternoon tea was served. Pip's parents chatted happily with Clancy's parents and Owen's very glamorous mother, Owen's father just happy to share his wife's presence. Eventually there was a calling to order by Mr Barnes who played master of ceremonies to Captain Porter.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, if you don't mind, Captain Porter has a few things to say and then we will hand out the school prizes."

"Well, at this part of the proceedings I would very much like to welcome you all. I hope you have enjoyed the sports, the various displays and of course the fabulous tea laid on by my good wife and her team of assistants led by our Cook and her staff."

A smattering of applause went around the quad before Captain Porter decided he could safely continue.

"We have had another eventful year at The Rocks and as you can see from the sun tans on display, the boys have very much enjoyed this term in particular." The crowd, anxious to please, laughed on cue. "And in particular, this year we have had one stand out achievement, which is Timothy Clancy's scholarship to his new school, the highest marked papers for the school this year. So it is no surprise that the first prize for outstanding academic achievement is awarded to Timothy."

Clancy went to collect his award as the ceremony recommenced. There were a number of subject awards and to Pip's surprise he picked up two for Art and for English. Mrs Prince and Mr Barnes smiled with satisfaction when he took to the stage."

"Well done, boy, you earned it."

"Do keep up your artwork. I really do think you have a special talent for it."

With Clancy taking the outstanding academic achievement award, the subject prizes were handed out amongst the Sixth Formers including Peter who picked up two for science and mathematics.

"And as a final announcement, I would like to thank our current Head Boy, Peter Morgan, and tell you that from next term we will continue that particular family tradition with his brother, Sacha Morgan, taking over as Head Boy for next year." Another round of applause.

Really there could only be one choice since Jonathan had ruled himself out and the other Fifth Formers were judged too immature for the role. Sacha bounded up on to the stage to pick up his new badge as Head Boy, face blushing with embarrassment, bowing as the crowd applauded.

With the formal ceremonies complete parents and boys started to make a move towards the exits, making their final goodbyes as they went. Pip's parents always took ages. They were speaking to Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince and looked deep in conversation. Pip hoped that it was not about him.

Pip said goodbye to Owen and Clancy and then looked around for Sacha. Perhaps he might just catch him alone for one second to say goodbye. No matter how awkward, he wanted to say goodbye. Surely no harm in that? He was leaving the school anyway, but amidst all the boys dressed in white, Sacha was not to be seen. Peter was there, but Sacha was not with him. Then Pip saw Sam's large hat. Perhaps he was with her. She was the other side of the quad. Pip went the long way round in order to avoid his parents. By the time he got there, Sam had moved on from her original spot. Pip looked frantically around. Peter was the other side of the quad near his parents. Pip craned his neck. No sign of Sacha with him. Pip went to the car park. The BMW was there but no sign of any member of the Morgan family. There was a tap on his shoulder. It was Mr Barnes with his pipe; Mrs Prince accompanied him.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye, Pip?"

"Oh, sorry, goodbye, and thanks for everything."

Pip shook hands with both his teachers.

"Good luck at your new school."

"And don't forget to keep your ideas coming."

"Yes, I will certainly."

Pip's parents were approaching. They had been speaking to Captain Porter and his wife. Pip looked around ever more frantically. Then, there they were, the Morgan family, all together car doors open. Mr and Mrs Morgan were getting in the front and Peter and Sam getting in the back. Sacha was already in the back of the car, just a shadow. This was possibly the last fleeting glance Pip would have of Sacha. He felt sick in his stomach, his life draining away, no goodbyes, just a glimpse of a silhouette in the back of the car as the BMW roared off up the drive in a scrunch of gravel. Pip turned away from the rest of the school and started to run towards his parents' car, not wanting anyone to see his face.

*****

Chapter 16 - Summer Term 1969

The following September Pip soon succumbed to the temptation to make contact with Sacha from his new school. His longing to keep in touch with the younger boy remained and had not dimmed as he hoped it might do with a new school and a new set of friends. Finding himself alone on the third weekend of term, Pip decided to write to Sacha. No one could stop him now. He was beyond the reach of Captain Porter, but what to write? After a couple of attempts he decided on a bland approach, no hints of anything, no reference to some of what had occurred. After all, who might get to read the letter other than Sacha? There was a strict rule against reading other boy's letters at The Rocks, but Pip no longer put total faith in that sort of code now. In the end he wrote:

"Dear Sacha,

I hope you are well and enjoying your final year at The Rocks? I miss the place terribly, particularly the sea and being out in the country. Here we are stuck in the Home Counties, no water and no escape. The only good thing about it is that there is a railway station so you can get out. The School is huge and seems obsessed with making all the boys into military types. I have to do CCF (Combined Cadet Corps) every Friday; it's a real bore what with all the kit cleaning and kit inspections.

Anyway, tell me your news."

Pip waited for a reply. It didn't come immediately as he had hoped. Perhaps the letter had not arrived? Perhaps someone had stopped Sacha from seeing it or replying to it? Worst of all, Sacha had seen it and just not responded?

Each succeeding day Pip's heart sunk further, but still each day he checked for the next two weeks. 'It's the weekend' or 'the post can be very slow from Cornwall' and a myriad of other excuses came to mind.

His hopes slowly dashed, Pip stopped checking his pigeonhole closely. However, one day about three weeks later, Pip noticed a small envelope stuck at the back. It had been hidden from his gaze by a circular about the house play. He checked the handwriting, small, neat, noticeably childlike, but recognisably that of Sacha's. Pip rushed into the toilets and locked himself in a cubicle. The first thing he noticed was how light the letter was, only one piece of paper, but he stopped himself; his letter had been similarly brief.

"Dear Pip,

Thank you for your letter.

Sorry it took so long to respond, but I had letters from Sam and the parents as well. Letter writing can be a bit of a chore sometimes and now I am Head Boy like Peter there are so many things I have to do. Apart from being Head Boy, I am also Captain of the First Team; we are not very good.

Mr Barnes is retiring at the end of the year. Must go. We are still swimming in the sea at the moment."

Pip immediately responded. This time he wrote far more. He was acting in a play and was learning to play the guitar.

Another long wait, a very short response.

"I have lots of extra work to do. Captain Porter wants me to do the scholarship for my next school. My father is very keen and is insisting that they 'stretch' me. It is as bad as it sounds. I am only allowed out one day per weekend now and have to do extra French tuition with Mrs Porter."

Pip wrote another longer letter. What would interest Sacha? He tried a couple of subjects. Films? No good. The Rocks was nowhere near a cinema that showed anything interesting. Sport? Sport just brought back a dry list of results. Over the next term and a half the two boys exchanged the blandest of correspondence. Pip dared not hint at any of his feelings for Sacha. The letters in return became shorter and more formulaic, a plea that extra work for his scholarship exams was important given as an excuse. Finally Sacha responded to a letter towards the end of the Easter term.

"Dear Pip,

Next term I have to concentrate all my time on my exams. They really are important as I keep being told by everyone. I am hardly going to have any time until they are over. So please don't expect me to write until after they finish. I've got too many things on just now. Perhaps after the exams (last one Friday, June 13th)?

Yours

Sacha."

Pip wrote a response in haste and with a mix of alarm and anger. He feared that Sacha was avoiding and even rejecting him. He had kept all the letters and reread them. In reality there was very little in them. The couple of times he had suggested visiting, Sacha had simply said 'no' as he was not allowed out. Pip waited until the morning and re-read his letter. He took one look at the long, pleading contents and decided to throw it away. Instead, he chose to stick with the glimmer of hope hinted at the end of Sacha's letter and take up Sacha's invitation to write after his exams were over. Sacha had mentioned the date of his final exam in his last letter. So on June 12th, Pip wrote to him, hoping to catch Sacha in the period of post exam euphoria.

"Dear Sacha,

I think your exams are over now? You must be so relieved and now you have four weeks to do pretty much what you want. I wish I did! Our year exams are right at the end of term and I am not looking forward to them at all."

Pip passed on a few more pieces of not terribly exciting news and then made a plunge for what he really wanted.

"Now you are free, I can come down any weekend other then the second one in July. We could meet in Penzance. I am sure you would like to get out of school. You always used to, remember?"

The response came quickly. Pip saw that as a good sign. The letter was just the usual few sentences, but Sacha had noticeably softened his response.

"Dear Pip,

I have been stuck in school all this term, but yes, now I am free. We could meet, but I am Captain of the First XI at cricket. So that does knock out most weekends. Still, June 28th, it's a week Saturday, could you do that? It will have to be short as we are having our Sixth Form party that evening. You do recall the Sixth Form party last year? As Head Boy I can't allow anything to go wrong this year. So no diving from Parson's Leap.

I can meet you at 11am at Penzance Station; I can say I am meeting Sam. So it should be okay."

In the long nights in his public school dormitory before the proposed meeting, Pip worked out the meeting in detail. They would meet at the small café beside the station in Penzance. Then they would go for a walk, similar to the walks they had done in the past. Given the options, Pip picked the walk between Mousehole and Lamorna as his ideal choice. Pip sent a short note confirming the time of his train and said no more. He was frightened that he might put Sacha off if he mentioned any plans.

Before he set off from his school, early that Saturday, Pip checked himself in the mirror. He was growing. He knew he looked and felt much older than he had done the year before. He was broader and taller from playing endless rugger, but he had lost some of his tan from his days at The Rocks.

Pip duly set off by train. He had needed special permission to leave so early, but fortunately the mention of a supposed aunt cleared the way.

The train journey was long and tedious, longer than he remembered it, but then he was travelling on a Saturday along with the early holidaymakers. The train was a slow one stopping all the way, or so it seemed. Pip could feel the tension build as he neared his destination, passing the station at St Erth. Perhaps Sacha would get on? But the train was worryingly late. Besides, the bus went nearer to the school and was cheaper. The boys always took the bus so long as it was convenient. Above all else in Pip's mind was how was Sacha going to be? How would he behave towards Pip? Would he be warm as he used to be or cool and distant as Pip knew he could be if he wanted to?

The train wheezed into the station at Penzance nearly an hour late. Normally Penzance station enthralled Pip, being as it was, the end of the line with the waves lapping almost up to the station itself. However, this time, due to his late arrival, Pip found himself not savouring the view of the sea and St Michael's Mount, but instead anxiously weaving his way through the thronging masses of holidaymakers and their suitcases, his heart in his mouth as he left the station to find Sacha. Would he still be there or would he have given up?

Pip rushed to the agreed meeting point, the café next to the station, heart in mouth. Would Sacha still be waiting? To Pip's immeasurable relief, in the corner was the familiar sight, a slightly older version of the red headed boy Pip remembered so well.

Sacha had his head down, concentrating on something in front of him. Sacha did not look up even when the bell over the door tinkled as Pip entered. His head was down, concentrating on the paper in front of him. He was drinking a mug of tea in the corner, wearing a plain white tee shirt and shorts made from last year's jeans, slightly undersized. Sacha was very tanned, fewer freckles showing than last year. On closer inspection Pip could see Sacha was leaning over a copy of the _Times_ , deep into the cryptic crossword. Over the last year he had developed a passion for crosswords with the encouragement of Mr Barnes and Captain Porter.

There was a queue. Pip hoped Sacha would see him, but he kept his head down as the single middle-aged woman on duty slowly served the people in front of him. Eventually it was Pip's turn. He ordered a squash. He couldn't stand Coke and still did not like tea or coffee. Once he had the squash and some fruitcake in his hand he walked over to the corner where Sacha was sitting at a table by himself.

"Hello, Sacha." Sacha looked up and scanned Pip from his head down, taking in a year's growth and Pip's gangly teenage appearance.

"Oh hello, Pip, made it at last?"

"Yes, sorry, the train was late."

Pip sat down, putting his glass and plate on the small amount of space not occupied by Sacha's newspaper. Most of the crossword puzzle was done.

"I know. I looked at the arrivals board when I arrived. Fortunately there are not that many trains and all of them were late. It's a nuisance. Still, no real harm."

"Cake?"

"No, thanks. I have had some toast already."

Sacha continued looking at the crossword puzzle. "Medicinal dose - falls."

"Sorry?"

"The clue begins with D. It's almost the last one. Silly really, only five letters."

"Oh right, I am not really good at crossword puzzles."

Sacha concentrated on the puzzle. Pip felt he was a bit of a distraction in comparison. Uncomfortable he realised that Sacha was keeping his guard up and not being that welcoming towards him. A boy who clearly wanted to be somewhere else, but who felt an obligation to be there.

"Think of some medical doses, you know, pills, spoonfuls, that sort of thing."

"Doses, five letters beginning with D."

"Silly, it can't be. They gave that in the clue, but you are right about the S. Hang on four down: fruit mixed with oil for victory in Europe."

Sacha hardly paused for breath. "Oh easy, Olive as in oil, O L I and V E for victory in Europe. That just leaves the doses."

Pip struggled to keep up with Sacha's thought processes; meanwhile Sacha twirled his pen a couple of times in thought.

"Oh, wait, I know. Drops." Sacha filled in the clue triumphantly. "Done."

He folded the paper up, finally lifted his head and smiled. "How's big school then?"

Pip, glad to be acknowledged at last painted a picture of the school.

"Oh, much bigger than The Rocks. It's urban, all sorts of boys and the place is run by the prefects really. Can't say I like it much, but it does have advantages. The cinema in town for instance that we can go to, so long as it is not out of bounds of course."

"I think I prefer it here."

"You like it now?"

"Oh yes, being in the Sixth Form is good, especially since the exams finished."

"How is Peter?"

The two boys exchanged awkward pleasantries, family; Peter was at another school and it was 'okay' apparently. Sacha turned to his tea and Pip to his squash. A silence began to settle in. Pip felt awkward, a need to get things going again – a change of scene?

"Come on, let's get out of here. It's a nice day."

"Oh, okay. Yes, let's get away from here."

Sacha picked up his plate and mug and took them up to the counter. Awkwardly Pip returned to the table to retrieve his glass and plate and followed suit. The boys left the café and walked outside.

"Where are we going then?"

All Pip had on offer was a walk, but time was now too short for his original plans. Pip detected a slight edge to Sacha's question. He would have to play safe. He thought quickly.

"We can walk along to Newlyn, and see where the Scillonian sails from."

It was hardly original, but Sacha could not complain. Pip really wanted to take the bus to Mousehole and walk to Lamorna, but they had left it too late for that. Sacha weighed up the offer. Newlyn he felt comfortable with. "Okay then."

The two boys walked, or rather trudged off along the promenade, which to start with ran alongside the busy road to Mousehole, so busy it made conversation tricky. The road noise was probably just as well as the awkward silences continued; so many subjects were out of bounds or could lead to areas, which neither boy wanted to discuss. Pip took a sidelong glance at Sacha. Sacha had grown a bit; he was probably nearing five foot now. His hair, surely longer than allowed, was turning from his signature copper red to a darker chestnut colour. It was going to end up dark brown like Peter's, Pip decided. Impulsively Pip found himself reaching out, just to touch his companion. It was the lightest of brushes to Sacha's hair to one side to check if he was developing sideburns. He was not.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Sacha glared at Pip and put a full yard between the two of them, running his fingers through his hair to bring some order back to it.

"I was just checking to see if you were getting any sideburns. I am. See?" Pip brushed his hair to one side; the beginnings of a sideburn could be seen.

"Well, don't touch. Honestly!"

Sacha was making very clear his ground rules for this day.

"Sorry, I am sorry. I don't know why I did it."

Pip moved closer to Sacha, but not as close as he wished as Sacha walked quickly to keep some distance between the two of them.

"I won't do that again, really, but look, see I have had a bit of a growth spurt."

Pip was proud of his new growth, the hairs on his legs. Sacha still looked young even though he had grown and looked more like his brother.

Sacha stopped and looked at Pip, in animosity, in shame, but most of all in embarrassment at the sheer stupidity of Pip's touch. The boys stood in the middle of the pavement. Sacha paused until an elderly couple walked around them, muttering to themselves at the rudeness of the younger generation.

"Look, if that is all you want to do, I would rather catch the next bus and go straight back to school. Do you understand?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. It was dumb."

Pip was desperate. Sacha was clearly intent on carrying out his threat if Pip said one more wrong thing.

"Subject closed. I won't do anything like that again."

Sacha weighed up what Pip was saying and looked into Pip's eyes. He could see that Pip would probably stick to his word. Sacha paused. This was really not how he wanted things to be. He did not want to be unfriendly, but equally surely Pip understood. Last year was last year. Things were different now.

Pip looked anxiously at the younger boy, trying to read a message in Sacha's stern stare. Sacha was disappointed that anything like this had even come up. In the intervening year he had softened his view of Pip and lulled himself into thinking that what happened on Trendrine was just a one-off thing that would not be repeated. Sacha had been relieved that he had not seen any mention of anything in any of Pip's letters. So he had mistakenly believed that Pip had moved on. He dearly hoped he had.

Sacha sighed. "Well, come on then."

Sacha turned and began walking towards Newlyn again. Pip realised that he had been given one more chance, followed and then slowly caught up with Sacha. For the moment they were still friends.

There was a long awkward silence as they walked along the somewhat faded Front at Penzance. Pip plunged into a chasm of shame and despondency deep in his own thoughts. Sacha was far too sharp for him now; he picked up any nuance and interpreted it his own way. He was now independent of any guidance from someone like Pip. Sacha gradually calmed down, glad he had not stormed off. He had feared what Pip might do. However, Sacha felt he was in control of the situation now in this public place. Pip was in fear of Sacha walking off at the slightest provocation. Pip realised he had so nearly blown the whole day in the short length of just one stupid and ultimately unimportant act. His act was undoubtedly stupid beyond belief in Sacha's eyes.

After a minute's silence as Sacha slowed down, Pip tentatively introduced a new subject.

"How's Jonathan?"

"He got into terrible trouble last week for letting off a firecracker in Mr Barnes's class. Can you believe that? Fancy getting into that much hot water in your last weeks at school."

"That sort of thing will never happen to you will it? I mean getting caught."

Sacha paused. "That's not true. I just never get caught - well except with you and that wretched cake. I thought I was going to get it for that. Fortunately a clean record helped. I just got a long and rather boring lecture."

It was not how it felt at the time, reflected Sacha, but that was how he portrayed it when asked about it by Peter later.

"Captain Porter was good at that. The lectures that bored."

Sacha smiled at their shared intimacy. He was becoming more relaxed, more like his old self, safe on old ground where he knew he had bettered Pip. Underneath his placid appearance he was intensely competitive. He was kicking gravel in front of him in the maddening way he used to do when he went walking with Pip at The Rocks.

"You are no goody-goody, are you? In fact you were a major mischief at times, weren't you? Remember Parson's Leap?"

Sacha blushed. "Well, Parson's Leap only really got me into trouble with Peter. He was furious. The cake was nothing really. Captain Porter has teased me about that ever since. It was the other thing."

Sacha stopped and looked at Pip.

"I didn't really understand at the time, you know, you and me, why Captain Porter stepped in between us. I only really found out about some of what was being said afterwards."

Pip took advantage of the opportunity offered. "That was all my fault. I am sorry, things just got... I just let things out of control."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"At the time I trusted you totally. I idolised you, I guess. You took advantage of that." Sacha looked for affirmation from Pip. "You did, surely? Then Captain Porter somehow worked it out that something was going on. He asked me. I never told him anything. To try and explain it would have been worse, far worse."

Pip tried to defend himself. "But I never meant to get you in any sort of trouble," but Sacha wasn't listening. "Even before I entered his study about the cake thing, I think Captain Porter was suspicious that something was going on between us."

Sacha paused, blushing. He had never discussed the nature of what had happened between him and Pip with anyone as directly as this, not even Peter, not even Sam, although both had had awkward conversations around the subject with him afterwards, Peter accusatory, Sam conciliatory.

"No one else ever knew the full truth. They tried to dismiss it, a passing phase and 'crush' as Sam put it."

Sacha's eyes glinted. He had always been made to think of himself as the one in the family around whom lots of arguments revolved. Arguments that made him run up to his bedroom, slam the door and bury his head under his pillow. Right from the day he was born, Sacha had been deemed demanding and difficult at times, reducing his mother to tears of frustration. In the end Sacha's mother was diagnosed with post-natal depression. In time Sacha's mother eased out of her depression, but by then the damage was done. Although his mother doted on her youngest, Sacha had become a difficult highly-strung child who could be moody and guaranteed to disrupt the entire family whenever he so wished. Peter, desperately insecure owing to his mother's periods of depression, was the quiet occasionally withdrawn middle child. Sam the perfect oldest child had by then escaped to boarding school in England.

The events at school last summer had scarred Sacha, the first time he had felt that his life was not fully in his own control. Being 'led astray' was probably what most people thought had happened to him. Peter had said as much even though he had shouted at him for being 'beastly' on their return to Hong Kong.

"You are just too naïve to be let out of the house, Sacha. That's your problem."

Sam stepped in. She stopped Peter from raising the subject with their parents.

"You're to say nothing. If you do, it will make it worse for Sacha and might make things difficult for you too."

Peter, despite his anger, realised that his sister was probably speaking sense and bit his tongue. To his parents their main concern was Sacha's sudden drop in performance during the latter half of the summer term. Captain Porter had covered for him, expressing the view that the move to a new school had unsettled the boy. Despite the temporary dip in Sacha's academic record, all the adults stuck to the generally accepted view that Sacha was going to go far, further even than Sam. Already his father had placed a lot of expectation on his shoulders. In turn his mother placed a lot of worry on Sacha, his occasional emotional fragility, his difficult moods, rarely seen outside of the Morgan family home, his contrariness and self-destructive behaviour on occasions.

Pip stayed silent. Sacha was aware that Pip was expecting more.

"Captain Porter asked all sorts of questions. He asked me about friends and such. I think he was expecting me to say something, confess to us being up to something, but I didn't say anything. I don't think he was fooled. He told me to be more friendly with boys in my year and not hang around with you."

Uncomfortably Pip recalled the same conversation with Captain Porter, the strict instructions not to speak to Sacha for the remainder of the term. "But there are only six months between you and me in age. There are more like ten months between me and Clancy for instance and no one said anything about that, did they?"

"So you thought no one else noticed, did you? In a boarding school you really thought that no one would notice, Pip? Peter, Jonathan and the Johnson twins were saying things about us, how we kept sneaking off together. It was doing the rounds of the Fifth and Sixth Formers. They even said we were boyfriends and yet you didn't realise, did you?"

It was Pip's turn to kick some gravel to hide his lack of awareness of the hurt he had caused to Sacha. He did not have an answer to Sacha. Now he was beginning to realise why Sacha changed so much after the cake incident.

"I am sorry. I didn't realise. I thought we had kept it hidden, that no one knew."

"The twins started to talk after the first three weeks of my first term at The Rocks according to Peter, after we started sneaking out together every Sunday. Then there was the night in Ardvasar. Finally Jonathan followed us that one time we disappeared during cricket. He followed us and told Peter."

"We would have heard if he was close. Surely he didn't see anything?"

"We were alone together for nearly an hour hidden in the bushes. He could have a good guess as to the possibilities. You had done something similar with Jonathan himself the term before I turned up, hadn't you? In the toilets, I mean. Peter told me about that one. So it was not a first time for you, was it?"

Pip was miserable. "He knew about me and Jonathan too? When we nearly got caught? We were only there for five minutes."

"He guessed, put two and two together. Jonathan had been up to no good with the Johnson twins too and they were not the only ones."

Pip sensed something.

"In what way?"

Sacha realised he had said too much in the heat of the moment, but perhaps if Pip realised he was not the only one, it might be better.

"Me and Jonathan" Sacha responded quietly, as if ashamed of his confession.

"What!"

Pip felt betrayed. Sacha for only one time in his life decided to be explicit.

"On the day of the cake, before we met you. It was just fooling around in the shower after we played tennis."

Pip felt a sense of betrayal. Sacha was his alone.

"I didn't know that."

"Of course not. Neither of us planned it. It just happened between us. Jonathan led the way, but I followed."

"Okay."

"But between you and me it was far more," Sacha paused. It had to be said. "The things we did."

Sacha could not bring himself to say more. He had tried to blot the memories of the specifics from his mind. Pip was uncomfortable; yes it had been very different to his own experience with Jonathan. What happened with Sacha would never have happened with any other boy. Sacha stayed silent for a moment. Really he wanted to change the subject, but he just had to get through to Pip.

"Jonathan must have told Peter. He wanted to get back at you. He was jealous of our friendship. Peter had a real go at me, said you were a..." Sacha stopped and swallowed the next word. "A queer and that I would become queer if I kept being friends with you. He tried to make me tell him exactly what we did together, everything, down to every single last detail. He nearly broke my arm doing it. You try lying your way out of that sort of thing to your older brother." Sacha looked at Pip accusingly. "I didn't even know what he meant, you know – 'queer'. Clancy told me in the end. Our friendship was the talk of all the Fifth and Sixth years and you didn't even know? Didn't Owen or Clancy tell you?"

"No, no one said anything to me."

Owen and Clancy were too loyal to Pip to have confronted him on his relationship with Sacha. Pip struggled to say some more. Sacha was angrier than he had ever seen before. "I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that. Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I didn't want to. I liked you. I felt you were my best friend, but then I was also frightened of you. You wouldn't take no for an answer, I knew that."

"I thought it was just a friendship, a special friendship, that's all. We were closer than other boys, but that was all, but I felt guilty. I felt I had done something wrong with you."

Pip felt he could say nothing. Sacha clearly needed to say these things to him because he could say them to no one else.

"I was overwhelmed at first. The thought that a Sixth Former was interested in having me as a friend. You were always friendly to me and stopped me being lonely when I arrived. I just wanted to go back to Hong Kong. I just wanted to go home. I hated the school at first, Peter picking on me, the way the twins chucked me under the shower. I wanted to go right back home to Hong Kong then, but you looked after my watch and you got the towel to dry me. I knew had a friend then."

Sacha glared at him, a fierceness Pip had never seen before. Then his voice softened.

"That was why I was loyal to you. You were my first real friend at The Rocks."

The boys were nearing Newlyn, but instead they stopped on the front as Sacha still had things to say and what he wanted to say he did not want overheard.

"Ardvasar and then our time up on Trendrine." His voice trailed off. Sacha still could not say some of what he wanted to say. "It wasn't right, was it? I never want it to be like that again. I am not a queer. I am not going to end up like Mr Barnes, a queen."

"What do you mean about Mr Barnes?"

"He's bent."

"How do you mean? He's always after Mrs Prince."

"And any pretty boy in the school like you, like Jonathan and like me. He liked you above all. You could tell. He let you off anything."

"That's not true, Sacha. Honest it's not."

"He knew we were going to be alone together. He practically encouraged us to go, Pip."

Pip thought, had Mr Barnes guessed? "That might be true."

"Peter says you used to go to his room when you were in the First Form."

"Really? That's not right. I mean I only went the once. We just fed his budgerigars. That's all. He only kissed me once, just once, nothing more."

"And how many more boys did he kiss and how many masters do you think kiss boys? Think about it."

It was Pip's turn to be defensive. "That's just not true. I don't believe that Mr Barnes has ever done anything to any other boy, honest."

"How do you know? You are just guessing. I never heard of anything else. So I am guessing he hasn't, but what about previously, at other schools? We just don't know."

Pip silenced himself. He could not come up with any further defence for Mr Barnes. He sighed and looked at Sacha. As usual Sacha's deep-set eyes gave little away. Sacha watched Pip in turn silently, his eyes piercing Pip. Pip took a deep breath. He had to ask one final question.

"I don't want you to have to run off from me or make endless excuses. If you don't want to see me anymore, just say so. That's all."

Challenged, Sacha felt he had to be honest. What was the point of prolonging things? Nothing was going to change, get better between them. Being polite, he had tried to keep Pip at a distance all this year, but Pip had ignored the hints and kept writing. Sacha knew he had to be direct. Pip needed to understand that for Sacha things were changing. Pip needed to know, to be convinced.

"I've got a girl friend now, Felicity, from the tennis club in Hong Kong. She's the younger sister of one of Sam's friends. She's my first girlfriend. I think I'm her first boyfriend too. We write to each other all the time. We are allowed to go to the cinema, meet for a Coke in Central, that sort of thing, but the thing is, every time I go near her, when she wants to kiss, I think of you. I feel I am betraying her, feel guilty and I feel guilty because of you and what we did last year. I am never sure. Am I doing the right thing with her or is it a con? A deception? Until you came along, I had never thought about it, girls, and boys. Then there was you and then I thought that was it, but Felicity's changed that. She's proved it isn't true." Sacha paused. He realised he had to spell it out. "Sorry Pip, we have to stop. That was why I agreed to see you. This is the last time we meet. You have to realise that. That's what I am telling you. This is the last time we see each other. No more. No more visits, no more letters, nothing, ever. You asked. Now I am telling you."

Desperately, Pip tried another tack. Perhaps there was a way back?

"Oh, but why the double dare, the midnight jump? Was it really a test or was it something else?"

Sacha thought for a moment before answering. He kept his eyes down when he finally did so.

"I don't know. I hadn't planned it. It just came to me suddenly, this thing, to prove that I could do it, to do more than anyone else, to make that jump. Even if the jump had gone wrong, it would still have been the right thing to do. Frankly I didn't care what happened when we jumped."

"You can't possibly mean that."

"I do. I didn't care. Peter was making my life horrible. I wanted to get my own back."

"And take me with you, if necessary?"

"Yes. Strangely, yes. It seemed important that you were with me, whatever happened."

Pip was stunned into silence. He realised he did not understand Sacha at all at times. Naïvely he had hoped for a chance to pick up with Sacha where he had left things, but Sacha had put a stop to it that afternoon walking between Penzance and Newlyn.

"My sister Sam called what we had a 'crush'. She told me all about crushes. It happens between girls too, she said. I guess I enjoyed it at the time, but afterwards I always knew it was wrong. It wasn't right then. It certainly isn't right now."

"I suppose you're right. It could never work."

"Right."

There was only one answer. Pip let it out, a barely audible whisper.

"Right."

There was no going back. Pip knew that. Sacha was determined that this was the end of the matter.

Sacha sighed. There was a minute or two of silence between them. Sacha sat on a wall looking out at the empty dock of the Scillonian. Pip sat alongside Sacha. There was a distance between them now, a distance that had never been there before. Things had changed now. Pip understood. There would never be another occasion. The future agreed, there was not much point in the boys saying more to each other. The silence spoke a grudging acceptance by Pip of Sacha's ultimatum. Sacha eventually broke the silence.

"Come on, Pip. I'm hungry. There's a place that does pasties by the crossroads."

Pip followed Sacha inside numbed as they ordered two pasties and lemonade for themselves and then went out and sat down on the jetty, side by side, where the fishing fleet tied up, watching the circling ever hungry seagulls.

As they sat side by side, a chaste gap between them, the two boys were lost in contemplation, sadness on both sides. If they had just been friends, on the playing fields, in their free time, it would not be like this. Sacha felt the sadness that he had to break with someone he had once liked intensely, but he could not see any happiness coming from keeping up with Pip. When he had first arrived at the school, lonely and upset at being forced into the shadow of his brother Peter, Sacha had yearned for his own circle of friends. He was conscious of having lots of acquaintances at school and at the club in Hong Kong, but they were compartmentalised away from each other and apart from Peter, no one had ever really got as close to Sacha as had Pip. Sacha had always kept much of himself in reserve despite being popular with almost everyone. The only person who could get close to knowing what went on inside Sacha's head was Peter. Peter knew his weaknesses, his vulnerable spots, things that could still make him cry. That was how Peter controlled his brother, the brother who he knew would overtake him in time. In a naïve attempt at sibling control Peter would often try and crush his brother using physical might and shafts of mental torment to upset and weaken his brother. Yet at the same time this was the brother he loved and who he felt closer to than anyone else. That was the paradox of Peter and Sacha. Amidst their sometimes tempestuous and violent rivalry they shared a very strong bond of sibling support, united when their father or mother took them to task for something at home or at school.

At home Peter felt himself becoming the black sheep of the family because he was never going to achieve the great heights that his father, himself a self made man, so desperately wanted. Sacha and his older sister Samantha took after their mother, who was a doctor. Both were destined for great things in the future. Peter's banishment to The Rocks was the act of parents trying to improve his chances and also to reduce the number of flare-ups that were happening between their two warring sons. That their two sons who had been so close were now often coming to blows was of great concern to both parents.

To Sacha, however, his spats with his brother were comparatively minor. He knew from a young age that he would eventually catch up with his brother, if not physically (there seemed no chance of that as a young boy) then with mental agility and his ability to fit in. Peter, lacking the guile of his brother, had sought to try and hold his brother back and prevent him from overtaking him. Ultimately Peter knew he would never succeed in that. Sacha would eventually outpace him. At a superficial level Sacha could blend easily with others. He knew what everyone wanted and was eager to please, a trick he had learnt at an early age when he was in competition with Peter for attention. Peter had deeper friendships, but in common with his younger brother, always kept some distance between himself and even the closest of acquaintance. Sacha's friendship with Pip was coming between Sacha and Peter. Peter had never before found himself facing a rival in his relationship with Sacha. Since the day that Peter had set Sacha up for the cold shower initiation, Pip had been there in what Peter felt was his natural place, protecting his younger brother. Instead Pip had unwittingly stepped in between Peter and Sacha and built up an absolute trust with Sacha. Absolute trust was something that Peter could now never have with Sacha, having so publicly betrayed his younger brother any number of times at The Rocks. The final straw for Peter had been when Sacha and Pip had started to spend increasing amounts of time together alone. Sacha himself felt that the events since the trip to Skye were not totally in his control. Perhaps it had been the accident? Sacha had never been one not to be in control of himself and that night, for the first time in his life he had felt control of himself passing to another.

The following occasion on Trendrine with Pip meant Sacha could not claim to himself that he was entirely passive in what had occurred. He had actively participated. Once Pip had left The Rocks at the end of last year, Sacha had hoped things would move on. His hopes of a clean break had been shattered by the arrival of Pip's letters. Sacha did not want to hurt Pip. Instead he had cut down contact, hoping it might fade away. He did not want to tell Pip straight off, as he knew that Pip would be hurt and that was not what he wanted. Sacha still had fond memories of Pip even if in later life he would erase some elements of their relationship from his memory. Sacha knew he was growing up and Pip was just a phase he had to go through, brought on by being in an all boys' school.

In Pip there was a difference. He had taken an interest in some of the boys around him since almost the first day he had started at The Rocks. Then he had taken an instant interest in the twelve-year-old captain of the football team when he had first glimpsed him changing during that first term. Then there had been Jonathan who taught him things no one else had. Sacha's arrival from Hong Kong changed Pip's life completely. Pip had almost instantaneously been drawn to Sacha like no other boy before or since. The fact that Sacha had initially been very keen for friendship led Pip to misinterpret what Sacha felt for him. Pip refused to accept that it was he who was different, not Sacha. He found it even harder to accept that Sacha was at heart a typical boy, more sensitive than most, but still very much a normal boy. Sacha always knew he would conform, that he would eventually fall for a girl. He knew from the tennis courts in Hong Kong, when he sometimes played with Sam's friends, that there was a definite mutual attraction between him and some of the girls he played with. That something stirred between Sacha and some of Sam's girlfriends even though he was several years younger was no great surprise. Sacha's relationship with Jonathan was one of mutual respect. Just the once they had shared an adventure that many boys their age had done before and since. With Pip there was a difference. Neither could pretend it was just a game. It was something far more dangerous than that. Both had been left with guilt and a feeling that things were out of control, with Pip misreading Sacha's emotional insecurity and need to be accepted at his new school.

Pip and Sacha may have been only six months apart in age, but Sacha had been totally in awe of Pip from almost the first day at being in the school. Now, as he had matured and as Pip had been distanced, Sacha could see the dangers in his relationship with Pip, dangers that had been spelt out to Sacha by Captain Porter and others, not least Sam. Sam, tipped off by Peter, had come down to The Rocks on Sports Day to make sure her younger brother was safe. Better Sam to try and warn Sacha than have their rather straight-laced parents find out. That would have led to Sacha being taken straight back to Hong Kong never to return.

Sacha's painful task of having to tell Pip the unvarnished truth over, he felt sorry for Pip. Sacha still thought of Pip as his friend even though that friendship had to be broken for the sake of both of them. Sacha decided to fill Pip in on what was planned for his future after The Rocks.

"I am going to Sam's old school. Sam thought it better for me to go to a mixed school. Well, you can understand her thinking. Sam was pretty keen that I went to a school near where she is. She's in her second year now, doing medicine. She managed to convince the parents that it would be good for me. I think Captain Porter also thought I might be happier in a mixed sex environment. So he supported the idea. It's great, a clean start and no one from The Rocks there. Otherwise I think I was going to go back to Hong Kong. There have been some awful rows at home about where I went apparently." Sacha paused. "Going to a new school is going to be a complete change, a new start. I have made a decision. I am going to stop being known as Sacha."

"What do you mean?" Pip had no inkling what Sacha was talking about.

"I am going to use the shortened version of my proper name Alexei. I am going to let myself be called Alex."

"But you can't just become a different person. It's not as easy as that."

"Not at The Rocks, no, but at a new school, yes I can. Of course they will always call me Sacha at home, but at my new school and elsewhere, Alex will be my name."

Pip was numb at this news, this very obvious decision by Sacha to cut himself off from the past, to move on, start again. Now he understood the decision about the school and why it was important that no one else was going there. A new beginning, that was what Sacha felt he needed.

"Being Alex will be good, moving on, no history, no burden and no expectations."

Pip thought for a minute, brushing some crumbs off his trousers. "But you know you will always be Sacha to me."

Sacha smiled his generous smile. "I know. I will always accept that from you."

Uncomfortable Pip looked to change the subject.

"I haven't really thought about university or anything. We've just started looking at the O level syllabus. That's enough. They wanted me to drop art and made me keep Latin. It's not what I wanted, but apparently only the duffers give it up and I am supposed to be in the top stream, but I had to choose between geography and history. I wanted to do both, but that's not allowed."

"So what did you choose?"

"Oh, geography."

"I would have chosen history."

Somehow this difference saddened Pip. Any difference between him and Sacha upset him. He wanted Sacha to be exactly like him, but then he drew back and realised it wasn't going to be like that. Life never is.

"And then what?"

"Oh medicine, I hope. It's in the family. My mother's an anaesthetist."

"I haven't made in plans at all. I don't know what I am going to be. I would like to do art, but I don't think they will let me."

"Oh, I am sure you will think of something. Most people do. Even Peter. I am going to jump a year at my new school - I am not sure whether Peter knows yet that I will be in the same year as him."

"That puts you in the same year as me as well."

"But at different schools."

"Yes, different schools."

"It doesn't matter. It's not like it's a race. We are not going to know each other's results, are we? And after that, well, the parents want me to go to Oxford or Cambridge. My mother did."

Pip was still coming to terms with the facts. Sacha was moving on. Somehow he didn't think he was himself. He had not even thought about university, never mind which one.

The pasties were finished. Pip and Sacha started the walk back to Penzance station mostly in silence. Pip knew he had met his match in Sacha. In the deepest part of his soul he knew there was another, darker, emotion driving his behaviour towards the younger boy, that of jealousy at a boy being so bright, so good at everything he chose to do and so popular. Some of Pip's behaviour towards Sacha had not been about his wanting him as a friend, but about punishing him for being so perfect.

As they walked on towards the station, Sacha briefly went ahead to let other pedestrians pass in the opposite direction. As he did so, Pip had a moment's red lust come to his head. He still wanted Sacha, but he instantly drew back. That could never happen now.

The moment passed. Sacha was alongside him again. Pip realised that he preferred the parting to be one of a peaceful separation, on friendly terms even if the terms meant that this was the end of it all, today, this afternoon.

At the station the train was already waiting. Sacha got on so he could catch the branch line train to St Ives at the first stop. He could have taken the bus direct, but decided to stay with his old friend for the last time, as some sort of reward for finally understanding that it was all over.

The boys walked to the very front, the wrong end for St Erth, but it would guarantee them an empty compartment. Sacha got up just as the train departed.

"I am just going to amuse myself."

Pip knew Sacha would never have phrased it like that last year. The boy was changing. Sacha went to the toilet at the end of carriage. Pip knew there was no invitation in what he had said. It was perhaps Sacha's way of avoiding any possible last minute conversation. Sacha came back in a minute or so just at the train pulled away from Marazion Bay and headed inland towards St Erth.

There was a silence as both boys looked at the scenery contemplating their divergent paths to the future. Sacha despite his sun-kissed appearance, his tee shirt and too small cut-off jeans, still looked the prep school boy and still looked considerably younger than his thirteen and a half years.

Pip's face was drained of colour, held like a mask. For the first time Sacha realised the strength of the pain Pip was suffering. Pip's feelings for Sacha had more to it than their few shared moments together last year. Pip had experienced a crush, his first real relationship, with Sacha. That moment had come too soon, before he was able to absorb or understand his own adolescent passions. That Sacha could not reciprocate as he only saw Pip as a platonic friend made it worse for Pip who had fallen into a one-way relationship. Sacha's understandable adolescent curiosity had fooled Pip into thinking that his feelings for Sacha were being reciprocated. They were not. For Pip there was to be no easy path. It was unlikely that he would have the same intense feelings as he had for Sacha with another ever again.

In his darkest hours over the next few years Pip would dream of meeting Sacha again, but then he knew that Sacha had moved on. What would happen? He feared rejection more than anything else. So the plan remained solely in his mind. The longer it remained in his mind, occasionally in his dreams, the more the fear rose. Sacha would be very different now. No longer the small boy, now a teenager, no longer easy to dominate, instead the free spirit able to accept or reject friendships on his own terms. Pip had no contact with anyone from The Rocks after leaving, not Jonathan, not Owen, not even Clancy. They had all moved on in their own separate lives and so, eventually, would Pip.

The train was gliding into the station at St Erth, where Sacha was going to change trains. Rather than make a long drawn out affair, both boys kept it simple and understated. It was less painful that way.

"Well, I had best be going. Don't want to miss the connection."

"Yes, sure, see you sometime. Bye." Empty words as they both knew.

As Sacha got off the train, Pip leaned out of the carriage door window. They repeated their inane goodbyes a second time.

"Well, see you sometime."

"Yes, okay, that will be good. See you Sacha, bye."

Sacha walked down the platform. Pip's eyes followed him, watching his schoolboy form walk away from him for the last time. Sacha did not look back once. He was certain in his path. Instead Sacha kept walking away from Pip. Still a small schoolboy, just, but not for long. Pip knew it was how he would remember Sacha. In his heart he knew this was the final parting. Pip kept watching the diminishing form walk down the platform as the train pulled out, hoping that Sacha would turn around just the once, but he did not. Pip waited for a few moments until the train rounded a curve and he was absolutely certain there would not be another glimpse. Pip could feel tears in his eyes at the finality of it all.

The last two terms of the previous year had been the happiest period of his life. Just to get a glimpse of Sacha during the day meant so much to him and to share private moments together had been pretty much all he had lived for. Everything else, friends, ambitions, hopes and fears had melted away once Sacha had come into his life. Now, rapidly approaching fourteen, Pip realised that he would never see or hear from Sacha ever again. He was certain of that.

*****

End Note

_Scholarship_ is a work of fiction, but many of the incidents within the story do come from my own experiences of being at a prep school in the 1960s.

Clancy, Owen and Peter all existed. Peter was Sacha's older brother and they really did have a love hate relationship. Kit and Robbie are a combination of a number of boys, two of whom were identical twins.

Jonathan is a combination of three real life friends from that era.

Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince also existed. They remain my two favourite teachers.

Captain Porter and the other staff are all loosely based on teachers from my prep school.

There was a Sacha. I fell for him almost the first moment I saw him, but then, within a year it was over. I did reach a sort of reconciliation with Sacha a year later, but it was clear that our relationship could not continue as we moved onto separate paths. We lost touch in our early teens when I moved away from the area.

My fondness for him remains to this day.

*****

With Thanks

To Nick, Oliver and others who all encouraged me to write this novel.

Special thanks to BT above all, who took time out from writing his own novel to read through my early drafts, make many helpful suggestions and convince me that it was worth persevering with.

Edited with kindness by and patience by N Fourbois. His insights into some of the meanings of the story were intriguing.

*****

Author's Blog

Ian John Copeland's blog is at: http://thepaintheagony.blogspot.com

