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  • For ever and beyond

    • To be honest I knew the very first time I saw Matt that I fancied the pants off him, no need for a second glance. But he was, of course, totally unattainable leaving me to do nothing more than dream. Dream of the young man I had met, and believe me dream I did.

    The kindly old professor looked at me and smiled. He had been my tutor, my mentor and was now my friend. "So will you return to us next Michalemas Term and take your PhD ?"

    "I think so," I replied cautiously.

    "Perhaps you should never have taken this year out."

    "Oh no," I corrected him. "I don't regret the break even with this current problem. I needed to get away from the academic life of education."

    "And yet you chose to teach for a year in a boys' grammar school ? That sound like an oxymoron to me."

    "No Professor, not really."

    I smiled at him, thought back over all that had happened and sought out the words I would use to explain.

    All through my days at school and university I wrestled with my sexuality and knew for certain that I was different. But times then were not the way they are today and it was far from easy. Homosexuality was only made legal in England in 1967 and the years that followed saw those like myself living in a tiny closet society where each individual had no real way of exploring his true self in a wider community of like-thinking peers. There was no such thing then as The Scene, confusion reigned supreme. True enough the sixties had been a time of great liberation but the full extend of that liberation would not be understood for two decades or more and besides much, if not all, was heterosexual based and not focused on a tiny minority who found comfort in those of the same gender. And so I was careful concealed my inner self.

    I loved study and was a good student at school where I gained a set of A Level grades which assured my entry into Oxford. Four years and a first class honours degree later it was assumed I would go on and take my doctorate. Doctor Noel Dawes, I liked the sound of that ! But personal events in my final term provoked me to take a year away from study and so I ended up teaching English, as my professor reminded me, in a boys' grammar school.

    At my interview I could smell decades of dust in the place. The swinging sixties had passed this place by without a hint of change. I felt many of the staff we still trying to get to grips with the immediate post war years of the late forties and could not accept the concept that nearly thirty years had passed since the demise of Hitler when many of them were demobbed back into civilian life where they settled into the routine of handing down their knowledge to the next generation of youth. I was employed to teach English Literature to the fourth and fifth forms, preparing them for GCE O Level examinations that coming summer, but when my head of department suffered a heart attack and was laid up in hospital I was catapulted into teaching the upper sixth A Level class. It was there I met Matt.

    Matt was the oldest in the class, celebrating his eighteenth birthday very early in the new term. He was brilliant, utterly briliant. Not only at his studies but in every field he touched and his personality radiated all about him. He was fantastic to teach and I fancied the pants off him.

    "But Macbeth was not evil, not truly evil," he said in one of my classes. "I mean he was overtaken by evil and that does not mean he was inherently evil in himself does it Sir ?"

    I nodded gently. "I think you could be right but it's not a line of thought that will gain you many marks in an examination."

    "But to understand Macbeth as a man we have to understand the time and world in which he was living, and also the time and world Shakespeare lived in when he wrote the story seven centuries later. I can't help but feel sorry for Macbeth."

    I heard his words and listened to his point of view but my mind was not on them but the boy, no the man, who was speaking them. Matt was a man, not a boy. His boyish looks were just the exterior to a youth of eighteen who was legally an adult. But eighteen or not he was my student and I his teacher, he was taboo to me. Eighteen and I was twenty-four, six simple years separated us but he may just have well been a child of six and I an old man of sixty.

    I continued to debate with my talented student the complex traits of Macbeth's character and when over the Christmas holidays I sat down to mark the mock examination papers I would have been proud to have presented Matt's script as my own. When I handed back the results in the new year I asked Matt to come and see me after school.

    "You wanted to se me Sir ?"

    "Yes Matt, come in and sit down."

    We sat facing one another across an old wooden school desk where decades of pupils had etched their names and adolescent philosophies.

    "Which university are you applying to ?" I asked him.

    "Bristol."

    "To read English ?"

    "Yes Sir."

    "Forget Bristol Matt, you belong in Oxford."

    My student was taken back. "Do you think I am good enough ?"

    "Without a doubt."

    "But -"

    "But nothing Matthew, a word in the ear of Professor Coldrick and I can promise you a place in my old college."

    Matthew smiled with a wide grin. "Really ! Do you mean that ? You would do that for me ?"

    "I would count it a pleasure."

    "Thank you Sir."

    I knew my speaking to the professor would count for much and providing Matthew passed at his expected grades he would join my old college as an undergraduate next Michalemas Term.

    "Could I ask you something Sir ?" Matt continued, smiling through his elation at the possibility of a place in the country's top university.

    "Of course."

    I expected Matthew to ask me something about the university, college life or for more assurance that he would really be able to win a place at Oxford but no.....

    "Do you believe in destiny Sir ?"

    I have always believed in forces outside our comprehension, and I don't necessarily mean god, having an influence upon our lives and I told him as much. "You are a great fan of Macbeth," I smiled, "perhaps destiny explains his fortune."

    "But Macbeth is fiction, I mean in reality."

    "It's the same thing."

    "Perhaps." He paused then said. "Sir, you are a part of my destiny, well I believe you are any way."

    The hairs on the back of my neck started to prick and electricity ran up and down my spine. What was he going to say ?

    "You inspire me Sir. Without you I could not have done what I did in the mock examinations and now you are talking about me going to Oxford. You have to be a part of my destiny. It was destiny that you came to teach here and destiny that you took over my class. Without you I would not be the same. Would I be tempting destiny if I asked you to give me some extra lessons ? I mean would you be willing to give me some additional coaching ?"

    As he spoke he placed a hand on top of mine. It could have been a simple gesture but no it was more, he left it resting there as he continued to persuade me to tutor him through his English A Level and into Oxford.

    Matthew needed no tutoring, a genius never does but our times together were incredible. We discussed for hours my favourite writers and their works together developing a new and deep insight into their feelings and work. Our ideas were so similar they could have been of one mind and over the weeks we became so close, the relationship of teacher and pupil was forgotten to become one of two friends. We drank wine together and ate Chinese food out of silver foil dishes, we read poetry to one another and wrote poetry for one another but through all I tried not to give Matt any sign that I had emotional feelings for him and although I hoped he too felt something for me he showed no sign. The time he had rested his hand on mine had been a singular event and nothing like it was repeated.

    The day Matthew passed his driving test I took him out for a celebratory meal after which we went to a club. We had great fun together, for that time no longer teacher and pupil but two friends enjoying themselves.

    "Are you going to teach as a career ?" Matt asked me, shouting over the loud music.

    "No, I'm just filling in, I'll be returning to Oxford to finish my studies and take my PhD. I don't really want to teach."

    "So what do you want to do ?"

    "I want to be a journalist and to write myself."

    Matt hesitated. "When will you return to Oxford ?"

    I hoped he wanted the answer I was about to give him. "Next Michalemas term, next autumn. I need to go there soon and see my old professor, I need also to talk with him about your application, I wrote to him about you of course and he wrote back but I have to see him soon. You'll need to meet him as well."

    Matt was waiting patiently for me to finish speaking. "So we will be students together then ?"

    "Yes we will."

    He jumped up high and smiled so wide his excitement effervesced and burst out. He leaped forward and for the second time made physical contact with me as he embraced me in a warm hard hug. I held him tightly and wanted so much to kiss him, to fondle his body and to make love with him, how I resisted I can not tell. I wish now that I had done all of these things, if I had been more bold then perhaps the things of the next day would not have transpired but Matt had spoken once of destiny and destiny had its own detailed plan which it was not prepared to have short circuited.

    Back at school the whole afternoon of the next day was timetabled for me to teach the Upper Sixth and I had begun work with them on another of Shakespeare's plays, Romeo and Juliet. We had earlier read the play and were now discussing it, as usual Matt was the leading light in the group. It was difficult for me to make sure in our discussions that the other pupils in the class were not excluded. Also in our private tutorials Matt had stopped calling me "Sir" and had begun to use my name, I was worried that he would slip up and make a mistake in front of the others. But he was too clever and too careful for that giving no hint to his fellow pupils that our relationship was different.

    The end of the afternoon came, it was Friday, and when the bell announced the start of the week-end everyone was quick to leave, everyone save Matt. He walked from his seat and stood in front of me.

    "Shakespeare must have believed in pure love," he said. "So pure that it excludes all else. Do you believe in pure love ?" He was looking into my eyes and transmitting by some sixth sense his feelings to me.

    My stomach was churning and every nerve in my body was on edge and about to tremble. My courage was high as I said, "Well Matt I love you."

    And so began our third physical time but it was nothing like the previous two. I put my arms round him and held him tight. The embrace continued for a time until we released one another and took off our jackets, me a light grey sports jacket and Matt the traditional school blazer with the school badge. We tossed those two items off on to the floor and resumed our embrace which quickly moved to a deep, long and passionate kiss. Matt placed his hands on my buttocks and pulled us close together. My cock was firm and throbbing, through our clothing it felt and rested against his. I undid Matt's tie and opened the front of his white school shirt to reveal a beautiful chest.

    "I have wanted this for ages," Matt said and then ripped my own tie away. "I want you Noel."

    And then my classroom door opened.

    I knew who it was, the smell of stale pipe tobacco announced the arrival of the Headmaster. Terror gripped us both as we slowly turned to face the man who ran the school with a metaphorical rod of iron and a literal rod of rattan. His face was red and looked as if it would burst into flame, his fists were clenched and thrust by his side. Eventually he spoke, no he did not speak he roared !

    "Mr Dawes put your clothes on and come immediately to my study ! You," he jabbed a finger at Matthew, "will wait in the sixth form common room until send for you ! And both of you get your clothes on !"

    There was no point in trying to explain. What could I say ? Even if I had anything to say it would have been impossible. He just exploded with rage and ranted at me in a voice which shook the walls.

    "You are a bugger Dawes and I will not have a member of my staff buggering the pupils. You should be flogged down the street and run out of town. In my day you'd have been thrown into prison to rot, I'd to call the police but I'll not have shame brought on my school. There may have been those among our politicians who thought it right to make buggery legal but it is not legal in one of my classrooms and with one of my sixth form pupils !"

    It would have been no use at all to even attempt to explain that we had done little he had not seen for himself, that nothing sexual had taken place. I had not had any sexual relationship with Matt, the kiss was the full extend of our activities and he hadn't even witnessed that.

    "And the law says," he continued, "that it is legal only between consenting adults in private ! He is NOT an adult !"

    When the laws on homosexuality were revised in 1967 it permitted same sex between those aged 21 years and over, while Matthew was an adult in terms of being old enough to vote it was not until more than twenty years later in 1994 that the two ages were properly equated.

    "Get out of my school, do you hear. You are sacked I don't ever want to see your corrupt, evil face ever again !"

    I had heard enough, I turned and walked away. I left any books and personal property I had in the classroom and walked into the car park, got into my car and drove home. It didn't matter to me that I had lost my job, what mattered was that the Headmaster was now almost certain to expel Matthew and that would mean an end to his studies, his A Levels, university and his career. Many a time in the brief moments it took to leave the Headmaster's study and get into my car I considered retracing my steps, to go back and plead for my young friend but I knew to do so would make the situation only harder for him. All I could do was to go home.

    The front door closed with a dull thud which echoed about the empty house. My heart ached for Matthew and what he was going through and yet what could I do ? I sat down and cried.

    "You are a bugger Dawes and I will not have a member of my staff buggering the pupils." Those words just ran over and over and over in my head. But I loved Matt and knew now that he loved me. Surely there was nothing wrong in that. Was there ?

    The minutes crawled by like hours and had there been hours they would have gone by like days but I had been home for less that an hour when the door bell rang. I dried my tearful eyes and prepared to meet the police on my doorstep, if the Headmaster had not called them then perhaps Matthew's parents would. God, what would his parents say when they heard what had happened ? But nothing had happened. My heart was beating so hard my chest hurt.

    But it wasn't the police. it was Matt. He smiled and my spirits lifted.

    "What happened ? What did he say ? I am so sorry Matthew ! Did he expel you ?" I blurted out a string of questions interposed with attempted words of apology.

    Matthew winked an eye to say that all was well. "I'm still at school," he said, "and still sitting my A Levels. If they'll have me I'll still be a student at Oxford with you. But what about you, he sacked you, you've lost your job !"

    "That doesn't matter," I said relieved. "And he didn't expel you ?"

    "No."

    "Is he going to tell your parents ?"

    "No, he doesn't want any shame brought on the school. I guess he'll make some feeble excuse as to your sudden departure and sweep everything under the carpet."

    "So he let you off then ?"

    "Not entirely." He spoke slowly and hung his head.

    "Why ? What's happened ? What's he done ?"

    Matt looked at the floor.

    I waited to hear what he said and repeated my question.

    "He caned me," Matthew said quietly.

    The words cut through the air between us and I reached out to hold him.

    "What ! No !" How could he ? A sixth former ? You shouldn't have let him."

    "It's over now. Nothing more is going to happen."

    "How many ?" I asked.


    "Six."

    "That's not right ! Did it hurt ?"

    Matthew nodded and smiled. "It did."

    I kissed Matt, taking up where we left off. I loved him and now I knew he loved me. I placed my hands gently on his trousers lightly touching his buttocks. "How could anyone hurt someone as beautiful as you ?"

    "That sounds like a quote from Oscar Wilde," he giggled.

    "It is, well close any way."

    "Than I shall be your Bosie," he said.

    For a second time I unbuttoned Matthew's shirt and exposed his adolescent chest. This time I pulled his arms through the sleeves and left him standing naked from the waist upwards.

    "I want to see where that evil man has hurt you," I said placing my hands on his trouser belt.

    He put his own hands upon mine and together we undid the fastenings which allowed his trousers to fall to the floor and reveal a crisp white pair of tight underpants. I hesitatingly slipped my fingers into the elastic waistband and pulled them towards me peering down inside at two bruised buttocks. Then all the way down.

    Horror ! His two tender bum checks were crossed by six clearly separate lines of a deeper hue than the surrounding skin. These welts were clear evidence of a severe and brutal caning. I allowed my hand to hover over them without touching and screamed out inside me every expletive I could muster against the brute who had done this.

    "Oh Matthew," I said with a croaking voice.

    He turned to face me and placed a finger on my lips to silence me. As he turned I saw for the first time the totally naked front view of my friend. In my dreams I had conjured up all kinds of interpretations as to what he would look like but every one of them fell short of the Adonis that stood before me. It was difficult to believe that I was not right then dreaming but I knew that I was not. I moved to take off the remainder of my own clothing and very soon we were standing there together quite naked.

    What was happening was quite natural and felt right but we were both virgins and so there was also a slight sense of ignorance and gentle awkwardness about us. The actual content of our first lovemaking together was limited to holding one another each generating a climax in the other, it wasn't sex it was love. We lay together and I soothed Matt's wounded behind, I felt terrible that I had been the cause of so much pain and humiliation. But Matt was worried that I had lost my job and income.

    It was time to tell my friend something about me. "Thing is," I said, "I need to work, of course I do but that's for something to do rather than to earn money. I do have a private income, some may even say I have small a fortune."

    "Lucky !"

    "Well not really," I tried to explain. "I inherited everything from my parents when they died. I didn't sell the house, I let it and so that brings an income and I still own Dad's share in the business."

    "Oh I see." Matt sounded sorry and said as much for bringing up the subject. Of course he knew nothing of my parents' untimely death.

    I dismissed his fears, it had been a traumatic time and was behind my not staying on at Oxford to start my PhD but I was over it now. Besides when I returned to Oxford I would now have young Matt with me. I told him the story of their death and my inheritance. We talked for a long time before I worried about the hour.

    "What time do you need to be leaving ?" I asked. "I mean what time will your parents be expecting you home ?"

    "They are away for the week-end," Matt explained then hesitatingly added, "So I can stay the night if you want me to."

    Did I want him to ? Hell I wanted him to !

    What a week-end we had, no words of superlature could properly tell you how truly wonderful it was. We spent hours on end just holding each other, laying close often naked and in that short space of time our love making moved from fumbling naivety to that of expertise. How I loved Matthew and how I basked in his reflected love for me.

    We drank too much wine together and ate all kinds of snack food. It was simple but for us then we were in a party at the Ritz and dining on food prepared by the world's best chef.

    "Will life in Oxford be as wonderful as this ?" Matt asked.

    "Better," I whispered, kissing him gently and then making love yet again.

    More than an hour later we lay back and relaxed in one another's arms. "We can take a house in the city, live together and spend as much time as we like just like this."

    "Wonderful."

    But the time eventually came when Matt had to return home and while we postponed that eventuality until the very last moment but it could be put off no longer.

    "Before you go," I said holding on to his presence just slightly longer, "let me phone Professor Coldrick and arrange when I can see him."

    Dear Old Professor Coldrick was delighted to hear from me and invited me to visit him the very next day.

    "He's such a kind man," I explained to Matthew. "You'll like him and he will certainly like you."

    Matthew had to leave, the evening was fast approaching and his parents would soon be home. We said our good-bye's, taking a long time to do so, and finally, finally he left. My home was again empty and I alone but never before had I been quite so happy, never before quite so elated. I had my whole life ahead of me and prayed that every day of it would be spent with Matthew.

    I was up early the next morning and drove up to Oxford, I wandered round it's dreaming spires on a warm spring day before making my way to Balliol College and seeking out Professor Coldrick. We sat in his rooms at the front of the famous old college drinking tea and eating sandwiches as I retold my story to my mentor and friend.

    "If young Matthew is half as brilliant as you say he is," the professor smiled, "then he has to come here to Balliol, to let him go anywhere else would be a folly. And you will be returning to take your PhD ?"

    I nodded.

    "And then what ?"

    "I want to write Professor, I want to be a journalist."

    "And what career does Matthew intend to follow ?"


    "I have no idea, we have not talked properly about it."


    "Then I shall talk about it with him."


    I drank some more tea from the finest china tea service Professor Coldrick reserved just for his special guests and asked something I had secretly been worrying about.

    "Is it right professor, what I am doing to Matt ?"

    "Doing to ?" he said emphasising his words with an enquiring tone. "You are not doing anything to, it sounds together to me. You told me just now that Matthew said he would be your Bosie and you his Oscar."

    "Yes."

    "The age difference between Bosie Douglas and Oscar Wilde was, of course, much greater than that of you and Matthew, and you two are very different characters but let me ask you a question. Was Oscar Wilde a good influence on Lord Alfred Douglas ?"

    "Yes, he was."

    "And was Lord Alfred Douglas a good influence on Oscar Wilde ? Did he truly love him ?"

    I considered the question briefly then answered, "No, I don't think he was. Douglas ruined Oscar's life, sent him to gaol and made him a social outcast. And no I don't think he loved him as much as Oscar loved him."

    "You are wrong !" The professor paused to let his words assimilate themselves in my mind. "Absolutely wrong ! I knew Bosie Douglas and can tell you he loved Oscar with every last fibre of his being right until the day he died."

    I was fascinated to learn that my friend actually knew Bosie Douglas and he sensed my curiosity.

    "Oscar Wilde, as I am sure you know Noel," the professor began, "died in 1900 and even though many an undergraduate would have me as ancient as the walls of Balliol College itself I was not, myself, born at that time. Bosie Douglas survived him for forty-five years. Both he and Wilde went to Magdalene College, my own college as a young undergraduate you know, and in his late years I became well acquainted with Lord Alfred, Bosie, Douglas. True he had married, had a son and moved on but I can assure you there was not a single day in which he did not love Oscar Wilde."

    I smiled.

    "I am passionately fond of him and he of me. There is nothing I would not do for him and if he dies before I do I shall not care to live any longer. Surely there is nothing but what is fine and beautiful in such a love as that of two people for one another, the love of the disciple and the philosopher. Bosie's words," Coldrick said. "I expect you are familiar with the quote.

    Actually I wasn't.

    "One day perhaps, in years to come, a different society may look more understandingly upon the Love that Dare not Speak it's Name as Bosie wrote in his famous poem. I pray that time may not be so far away that you and young Matthew will benefit from it."

    "Thank you Professor."

    "And now you must bring Matthew to Balliol without delay so that his enrolment as an undergraduate for this autumn can begin. We are a small faculty and there is no time to lose. Bring him here for tea on Wednesday."

    "This Wednesday ?"

    "Certainly, I look forward to meeting him."

    I drove back home from Oxford in high spirits, I opened the windows of the car and let the air blow right through. "I'm going to buy a new car," I thought to myself, "one that is convertible and on days like this I will let the top down and drive open to the sky."

    How happy I was, how much I loved Matthew and how warm I felt with the understanding of Professor Coldrick. I knew he would understand, I suspected he had known for some time my preference for those of my own sex and that he would be supportive. Since the loss of my parents I had come to regard him as a father figure and his words had the highest influence on me.

    My happiness grew as the miles home became shorter, that was until a terrible premonition of foreboding came over me. It haunted me like a spectre. At first it was not clear, but it involved Matthew. Matthew was in trouble, great trouble - NO - his mind was in great trouble. What was it ? He was crying, I knew he was. He was terribly distressed and I needed to be with him. I needed to be with him as quickly as possible.

    I pressed my foot to the floor, the accelerator urging the car's engine to a new and higher speed. The new dual carriageway on the A40 was clear and I sped towards my lover so that I could comfort him.

    Matthew was where I knew he would be, outside my home waiting for my return. The car screamed to a halt and I flung open the door, bound across the short distance and held Matthew firmly in my arms.

    "What ever is it ?"

    "He promised on Friday it would be all over. He lied. The bastard. He promised that caning me would be the end of it all but he lied."

    "What's he done ?" I was scared. Not for myself but for Matthew. His place at the country's top university had just been secured and now looked as if it may not be quite so assured. Professor Coldrick would probably take no notice of a bigoted grammar school headmaster but the Dean of Balliol may, he was a different case. "What's he done ?" I repeated my question

    "He's asked my father to come and see him," Matthew sobbed. "He got his secretary to phone Dad earlier, she said the Headmaster had something of importance to discuss in private with him that could affect my future. Oh Noel what are we going to do ?"

    "When is your Dad going to see him ?"

    "Day after tomorrow, Wednesday at two o'clock. What are we going to do ? He's going to tell him about us, after he said he wouldn't. I don't know how Dad will take it."

    "How do you know about the phone call ?"

    "Dad told me when I got home from school, he was made redundant last week so he is at home in the daytime now."

    "Does he know what the meeting is about ?"

    "No he asked me that and I said it was probably about me going to Oxford now instead of Bristol. He's so proud about that, he's so proud of me and now everything is going to be destroyed."

    I tried to think quickly. "Perhaps the meeting really is about Oxford," I suggested.

    "Do you think that could be possible ?" Matthew sounded hopeful.

    "No, to be honest I would doubt that. He is going to tell your father about us and tell him to make sure he keeps you away from me."

    "I'd never let anyone do that," Matthew said still crying.

    "What's you father like ?" I asked. "What kind of a man is he ?"

    "He's Ok, an ordinary guy. I'm an only child and he thinks everything of me. That bastard will destroy him if he tells him about us and god knows what it will do to Mum."

    "I think I need to meet your father," I said. "To get a measure of him, to let him meet me and form an opinion of me. Then we will tell him ourselves and bugger that old sod at school."

    "But we can't," Matthew protested.

    "I wonder," I said aloud thinking. "Perhaps we could get Professor Coldrick to speak to the Head and persuade him to keep quiet."

    "But," Matthew sighed. "Dad must never know."

    "Wednesday you say, your dad has his appointment at school on Wednesday ?"

    "Yes."

    "That's when I have promised to take you to Oxford to meet Professor Coldrick."

    "Oh Noel I'll never be going to Oxford now will I ?"

    "Oh yes you will," I assured. "I'm going to sort this. Trust me."

    "I do trust you Noel." He kissed me gently on the cheek.

    "Now dry your eyes, clean your face. We are going to see your father, now. We won't tell him anything, we have nearly two days grace before the meeting at school. I just want you to introduce us and for us to get to know each other a little. I'll call Professor Coldrick tomorrow and see what he says is best for us to do."

    Matthew cheered himself up and tried to smile.

    "It will be alright," I assured him, "it really will." But deep down I was scared to the last fibre of my being. I honestly did not know how ever this evil twist of fate could be untangled.

    Matthew's parents were truly wonderful people and welcomed me into their home.

    "Matthew talks so much about you Mr Dawes," his mother said. "he thinks you are wonderful."

    "Please don't call me Mr Dawes," I smiled. "it's Noel."

    "Doesn't seem right," Matthew's father said, "calling a teacher by his first name."

    "I'm not a teacher any more," I said. "I only went to work at Matthew's school on a temporary contract and even that I have had to bring to an end early because of personal reasons."

    "So you won't be teaching Matthew any more ?"

    I explained that with their permission I would like to tutor Matthew on a private basis and went on to tell them all about my visit to Oxford earlier that day.

    "But we don't have any money to pay you for giving Matthew private lessons ?" Mrs Parker explained. "My husband has just been made redundant."

    "Bless you, I didn't mean for anyone to pay for my time, Matthew is brilliant and I would gladly give of all my time to tutor such a mind."

    "That is very generous of you."

    "What kind of work were you in Mr Parker," I asked. "I am so sorry to hear that you have lost your job."

    "I'm a driver, trucks. The firm went bust and we've all lost our jobs. Not easy with so much unemployment about."

    "Trucks ?"

    "Yes."

    "Have you ever driven coaches ?" I enquired, an idea beginning to form in my mind.

    "Yes, and I still have my PSV license up to date."

    "That's good. Have you ever heard of Sureway Travel."

    "Certainly I have, you see their coaches everywhere."

    "Not everywhere surely, we only have twenty-five vehicles although we are planning to add five more to the fleet this summer."

    I could see Matthew's dad looking at me and picking up carefully on some of my words.

    "Come and drive for Sureway," I said.

    "Not easy to get a job with them," he said. "They demand the best drivers and pay above the going rate so there is always a waiting list to work there."

    "Not when you know the transport manager like I do," I smiled. "How soon could you start ?"

    "Dawes," Matt's father said. "Noel Dawes. Dawes was the name of the chap who owned Sureway Travel, wasn't he killed in a crash a while back ?"

    "My father," I replied. "and now I own his half of the business. His partner runs the day to day side of things but half of Sureway Travel is mine so if I say the company takes you on, the company takes you on. Simple as that."

    "I don't know what to say. I mean thank you, I'm sorry about your father, I mean I don't really know what to say. You're Noel Dawes, well fancy that."

    Matthew looked on incredulously.

    I held a hand up to stop him. "It's nothing, honestly, and if I can help then - well I would like to."

    Matt's mother started to add her thanks and I had also to stop her flow of gratitude.

    "Anything we can do in return you must ask."

    I thought and said, "There is something. Professor Coldrick has asked me to bring Matthew up to Oxford on Wednesday to meet him, I know you have an appointment at school on the same day but your time would be better spent in Oxford. To be honest I think the Headmaster will try to dissuade you with regard to Matt going to Balliol College but you must trust me he is wrong." I was lying but doing my best to sound persuasive.

    "I don't like the man," he said. "He frightens me."

    I smiled.

    "I'll call his secretary and postpone your meeting, it'll come better from me."

    I had bought us some time but for how long ? When I left Matt was again his happy self, believing that I had saved the situation but I hadn't. I knew there was a lot more to do and prayed that dear old Professor Coldrick would have the needed powers of persuasion. I hoped that the headmaster would be in sufficient awe in the presence of a celebrated Oxford Don that he would listen to him and not speak to Matt's father. I would phone Professor Coldrick in the morning and share our dilemma.

    That night I found it difficult to sleep, so worried was I for my young lover. What if the Headmaster would not listen to Professor Coldrick ? What harm could he do ? Was my offering Matt's father a form of bribery ? I had not meant it that way. Stopping the meeting was only a postponement, Matthew's parents would have eventually to know the truth of our relationship. The hours of the night slipped by and still my brain raced. One AM, Two AM, Three, half-past. I remember looking at the clock and registering four before merciful slumber finally overtook me. But it wasn't a restful sleep, I was plagued with the most horrific dreams.

    Normally I am an early riser but that morning I did not awake until ten and only then as a result of the incessant telephone ringing. I ignored it the first time but no sooner had it silenced than it's infernal bell began again.. The third time I gave way, clambered out of bed and fumbled the receiver to my ear.

    "Destiny ! Destiny !" I recognised the voice, of course I did but what was Matthew talking about ? "Destiny ! Destiny!" He repeated again.

    "What are you talking about ?" I said.

    "Destiny ! He's dead. The old bastard's dead."

    "The Headmaster ?"

    "Yes ! Dropped dead last night. Heart attack. There was a special assembly this morning where the whole school was told. The old bastard is dead. Don't you see Noel, don't you see what this means ?"

    I did, of course I did. The meeting with Matthew's father would not take place the next day or ever and so our secret would remain our secret until we ourselves were ready to reveal it. I should have felt some sadness at his death but I did not, I was pleased he was dead. As Matthew had excitedly shouted down the phone destiny was at work. I hated him for caning Matthew and humiliating him in such a way, I hated him for his intent to destroy our relationship and set Matthew's family against me. My thoughts turned briefly to the sudden death of my own parents and how hard a time it brought to me. Did he have a family, did he have sons to grieve at his death ? I didn't know and I didn't care. My heart celebrated.


    ****


    To be honest I knew the very first time I saw Matt that I fancied the pants off him, no need for a second glance. But he was, of course, totally unattainable leaving me to do nothing more than dream. Dream of the young man I had met, and believe me dream I did.

    The kindly old professor looked at me and smiled. He had been my tutor, my mentor and was now my friend. "So will you return to us next Michalemas Term and take your PhD ?"

    "I think so," I replied cautiously.

    "Perhaps you should never have taken this year out."

    "Oh no," I corrected him. "I don't regret the break even with this current problem. I needed to get away from the academic life of education."

    "And yet you chose to teach for a year in a boys' grammar school ? That sound like an oxymoron to me."

    "No Professor, not really."

    I smiled at him, thought back over all that had happened and sought out the words I would use to explain.

    All through my days at school and university I wrestled with my sexuality and knew for certain that I was different. But times then were not the way they are today and it was far from easy. Homosexuality was only made legal in England in 1967 and the years that followed saw those like myself living in a tiny closet society where each individual had no real way of exploring his true self in a wider community of like-thinking peers. There was no such thing then as The Scene, confusion reigned supreme. True enough the sixties had been a time of great liberation but the full extend of that liberation would not be understood for two decades or more and besides much, if not all, was heterosexual based and not focused on a tiny minority who found comfort in those of the same gender. And so I was careful concealed my inner self.

    I loved study and was a good student at school where I gained a set of A Level grades which assured my entry into Oxford. Four years and a first class honours degree later it was assumed I would go on and take my doctorate. Doctor Noel Dawes, I liked the sound of that ! But personal events in my final term provoked me to take a year away from study and so I ended up teaching English, as my professor reminded me, in a boys' grammar school.

    At my interview I could smell decades of dust in the place. The swinging sixties had passed this place by without a hint of change. I felt many of the staff we still trying to get to grips with the immediate post war years of the late forties and could not accept the concept that nearly thirty years had passed since the demise of Hitler when many of them were demobbed back into civilian life where they settled into the routine of handing down their knowledge to the next generation of youth. I was employed to teach English Literature to the fourth and fifth forms, preparing them for GCE O Level examinations that coming summer, but when my head of department suffered a heart attack and was laid up in hospital I was catapulted into teaching the upper sixth A Level class. It was there I met Matt.

    Matt was the oldest in the class, celebrating his eighteenth birthday very early in the new term. He was brilliant, utterly briliant. Not only at his studies but in every field he touched and his personality radiated all about him. He was fantastic to teach and I fancied the pants off him.

    "But Macbeth was not evil, not truly evil," he said in one of my classes. "I mean he was overtaken by evil and that does not mean he was inherently evil in himself does it Sir ?"

    I nodded gently. "I think you could be right but it's not a line of thought that will gain you many marks in an examination."

    "But to understand Macbeth as a man we have to understand the time and world in which he was living, and also the time and world Shakespeare lived in when he wrote the story seven centuries later. I can't help but feel sorry for Macbeth."

    I heard his words and listened to his point of view but my mind was not on them but the boy, no the man, who was speaking them. Matt was a man, not a boy. His boyish looks were just the exterior to a youth of eighteen who was legally an adult. But eighteen or not he was my student and I his teacher, he was taboo to me. Eighteen and I was twenty-four, six simple years separated us but he may just have well been a child of six and I an old man of sixty.

    I continued to debate with my talented student the complex traits of Macbeth's character and when over the Christmas holidays I sat down to mark the mock examination papers I would have been proud to have presented Matt's script as my own. When I handed back the results in the new year I asked Matt to come and see me after school.

    "You wanted to se me Sir ?"

    "Yes Matt, come in and sit down."

    We sat facing one another across an old wooden school desk where decades of pupils had etched their names and adolescent philosophies.

    "Which university are you applying to ?" I asked him.

    "Bristol."

    "To read English ?"

    "Yes Sir."

    "Forget Bristol Matt, you belong in Oxford."

    My student was taken back. "Do you think I am good enough ?"

    "Without a doubt."

    "But -"

    "But nothing Matthew, a word in the ear of Professor Coldrick and I can promise you a place in my old college."

    Matthew smiled with a wide grin. "Really ! Do you mean that ? You would do that for me ?"

    "I would count it a pleasure."

    "Thank you Sir."

    I knew my speaking to the professor would count for much and providing Matthew passed at his expected grades he would join my old college as an undergraduate next Michalemas Term.

    "Could I ask you something Sir ?" Matt continued, smiling through his elation at the possibility of a place in the country's top university.

    "Of course."

    I expected Matthew to ask me something about the university, college life or for more assurance that he would really be able to win a place at Oxford but no.....

    "Do you believe in destiny Sir ?"

    I have always believed in forces outside our comprehension, and I don't necessarily mean god, having an influence upon our lives and I told him as much. "You are a great fan of Macbeth," I smiled, "perhaps destiny explains his fortune."

    "But Macbeth is fiction, I mean in reality."

    "It's the same thing."

    "Perhaps." He paused then said. "Sir, you are a part of my destiny, well I believe you are any way."

    The hairs on the back of my neck started to prick and electricity ran up and down my spine. What was he going to say ?

    "You inspire me Sir. Without you I could not have done what I did in the mock examinations and now you are talking about me going to Oxford. You have to be a part of my destiny. It was destiny that you came to teach here and destiny that you took over my class. Without you I would not be the same. Would I be tempting destiny if I asked you to give me some extra lessons ? I mean would you be willing to give me some additional coaching ?"

    As he spoke he placed a hand on top of mine. It could have been a simple gesture but no it was more, he left it resting there as he continued to persuade me to tutor him through his English A Level and into Oxford.

    Matthew needed no tutoring, a genius never does but our times together were incredible. We discussed for hours my favourite writers and their works together developing a new and deep insight into their feelings and work. Our ideas were so similar they could have been of one mind and over the weeks we became so close, the relationship of teacher and pupil was forgotten to become one of two friends. We drank wine together and ate Chinese food out of silver foil dishes, we read poetry to one another and wrote poetry for one another but through all I tried not to give Matt any sign that I had emotional feelings for him and although I hoped he too felt something for me he showed no sign. The time he had rested his hand on mine had been a singular event and nothing like it was repeated.

    The day Matthew passed his driving test I took him out for a celebratory meal after which we went to a club. We had great fun together, for that time no longer teacher and pupil but two friends enjoying themselves.

    "Are you going to teach as a career ?" Matt asked me, shouting over the loud music.

    "No, I'm just filling in, I'll be returning to Oxford to finish my studies and take my PhD. I don't really want to teach."

    "So what do you want to do ?"

    "I want to be a journalist and to write myself."

    Matt hesitated. "When will you return to Oxford ?"

    I hoped he wanted the answer I was about to give him. "Next Michalemas term, next autumn. I need to go there soon and see my old professor, I need also to talk with him about your application, I wrote to him about you of course and he wrote back but I have to see him soon. You'll need to meet him as well."

    Matt was waiting patiently for me to finish speaking. "So we will be students together then ?"

    "Yes we will."

    He jumped up high and smiled so wide his excitement effervesced and burst out. He leaped forward and for the second time made physical contact with me as he embraced me in a warm hard hug. I held him tightly and wanted so much to kiss him, to fondle his body and to make love with him, how I resisted I can not tell. I wish now that I had done all of these things, if I had been more bold then perhaps the things of the next day would not have transpired but Matt had spoken once of destiny and destiny had its own detailed plan which it was not prepared to have short circuited.

    Back at school the whole afternoon of the next day was timetabled for me to teach the Upper Sixth and I had begun work with them on another of Shakespeare's plays, Romeo and Juliet. We had earlier read the play and were now discussing it, as usual Matt was the leading light in the group. It was difficult for me to make sure in our discussions that the other pupils in the class were not excluded. Also in our private tutorials Matt had stopped calling me "Sir" and had begun to use my name, I was worried that he would slip up and make a mistake in front of the others. But he was too clever and too careful for that giving no hint to his fellow pupils that our relationship was different.

    The end of the afternoon came, it was Friday, and when the bell announced the start of the week-end everyone was quick to leave, everyone save Matt. He walked from his seat and stood in front of me.

    "Shakespeare must have believed in pure love," he said. "So pure that it excludes all else. Do you believe in pure love ?" He was looking into my eyes and transmitting by some sixth sense his feelings to me.

    My stomach was churning and every nerve in my body was on edge and about to tremble. My courage was high as I said, "Well Matt I love you."

    And so began our third physical time but it was nothing like the previous two. I put my arms round him and held him tight. The embrace continued for a time until we released one another and took off our jackets, me a light grey sports jacket and Matt the traditional school blazer with the school badge. We tossed those two items off on to the floor and resumed our embrace which quickly moved to a deep, long and passionate kiss. Matt placed his hands on my buttocks and pulled us close together. My cock was firm and throbbing, through our clothing it felt and rested against his. I undid Matt's tie and opened the front of his white school shirt to reveal a beautiful chest.

    "I have wanted this for ages," Matt said and then ripped my own tie away. "I want you Noel."

    And then my classroom door opened.

    I knew who it was, the smell of stale pipe tobacco announced the arrival of the Headmaster. Terror gripped us both as we slowly turned to face the man who ran the school with a metaphorical rod of iron and a literal rod of rattan. His face was red and looked as if it would burst into flame, his fists were clenched and thrust by his side. Eventually he spoke, no he did not speak he roared !

    "Mr Dawes put your clothes on and come immediately to my study ! You," he jabbed a finger at Matthew, "will wait in the sixth form common room until send for you ! And both of you get your clothes on !"

    There was no point in trying to explain. What could I say ? Even if I had anything to say it would have been impossible. He just exploded with rage and ranted at me in a voice which shook the walls.

    "You are a bugger Dawes and I will not have a member of my staff buggering the pupils. You should be flogged down the street and run out of town. In my day you'd have been thrown into prison to rot, I'd to call the police but I'll not have shame brought on my school. There may have been those among our politicians who thought it right to make buggery legal but it is not legal in one of my classrooms and with one of my sixth form pupils !"

    It would have been no use at all to even attempt to explain that we had done little he had not seen for himself, that nothing sexual had taken place. I had not had any sexual relationship with Matt, the kiss was the full extend of our activities and he hadn't even witnessed that.

    "And the law says," he continued, "that it is legal only between consenting adults in private ! He is NOT an adult !"

    When the laws on homosexuality were revised in 1967 it permitted same sex between those aged 21 years and over, while Matthew was an adult in terms of being old enough to vote it was not until more than twenty years later in 1994 that the two ages were properly equated.

    "Get out of my school, do you hear. You are sacked I don't ever want to see your corrupt, evil face ever again !"

    I had heard enough, I turned and walked away. I left any books and personal property I had in the classroom and walked into the car park, got into my car and drove home. It didn't matter to me that I had lost my job, what mattered was that the Headmaster was now almost certain to expel Matthew and that would mean an end to his studies, his A Levels, university and his career. Many a time in the brief moments it took to leave the Headmaster's study and get into my car I considered retracing my steps, to go back and plead for my young friend but I knew to do so would make the situation only harder for him. All I could do was to go home.

    The front door closed with a dull thud which echoed about the empty house. My heart ached for Matthew and what he was going through and yet what could I do ? I sat down and cried.

    "You are a bugger Dawes and I will not have a member of my staff buggering the pupils." Those words just ran over and over and over in my head. But I loved Matt and knew now that he loved me. Surely there was nothing wrong in that. Was there ?

    The minutes crawled by like hours and had there been hours they would have gone by like days but I had been home for less that an hour when the door bell rang. I dried my tearful eyes and prepared to meet the police on my doorstep, if the Headmaster had not called them then perhaps Matthew's parents would. God, what would his parents say when they heard what had happened ? But nothing had happened. My heart was beating so hard my chest hurt.

    But it wasn't the police. it was Matt. He smiled and my spirits lifted.

    "What happened ? What did he say ? I am so sorry Matthew ! Did he expel you ?" I blurted out a string of questions interposed with attempted words of apology.

    Matthew winked an eye to say that all was well. "I'm still at school," he said, "and still sitting my A Levels. If they'll have me I'll still be a student at Oxford with you. But what about you, he sacked you, you've lost your job !"

    "That doesn't matter," I said relieved. "And he didn't expel you ?"

    "No."

    "Is he going to tell your parents ?"

    "No, he doesn't want any shame brought on the school. I guess he'll make some feeble excuse as to your sudden departure and sweep everything under the carpet."

    "So he let you off then ?"

    "Not entirely." He spoke slowly and hung his head.

    "Why ? What's happened ? What's he done ?"

    Matt looked at the floor.

    I waited to hear what he said and repeated my question.

    "He caned me," Matthew said quietly.

    The words cut through the air between us and I reached out to hold him.

    "What ! No !" How could he ? A sixth former ? You shouldn't have let him."

    "It's over now. Nothing more is going to happen."

    "How many ?" I asked.


    "Six."

    "That's not right ! Did it hurt ?"

    Matthew nodded and smiled. "It did."

    I kissed Matt, taking up where we left off. I loved him and now I knew he loved me. I placed my hands gently on his trousers lightly touching his buttocks. "How could anyone hurt someone as beautiful as you ?"

    "That sounds like a quote from Oscar Wilde," he giggled.

    "It is, well close any way."

    "Than I shall be your Bosie," he said.

    For a second time I unbuttoned Matthew's shirt and exposed his adolescent chest. This time I pulled his arms through the sleeves and left him standing naked from the waist upwards.

    "I want to see where that evil man has hurt you," I said placing my hands on his trouser belt.

    He put his own hands upon mine and together we undid the fastenings which allowed his trousers to fall to the floor and reveal a crisp white pair of tight underpants. I hesitatingly slipped my fingers into the elastic waistband and pulled them towards me peering down inside at two bruised buttocks. Then all the way down.

    Horror ! His two tender bum checks were crossed by six clearly separate lines of a deeper hue than the surrounding skin. These welts were clear evidence of a severe and brutal caning. I allowed my hand to hover over them without touching and screamed out inside me every expletive I could muster against the brute who had done this.

    "Oh Matthew," I said with a croaking voice.

    He turned to face me and placed a finger on my lips to silence me. As he turned I saw for the first time the totally naked front view of my friend. In my dreams I had conjured up all kinds of interpretations as to what he would look like but every one of them fell short of the Adonis that stood before me. It was difficult to believe that I was not right then dreaming but I knew that I was not. I moved to take off the remainder of my own clothing and very soon we were standing there together quite naked.

    What was happening was quite natural and felt right but we were both virgins and so there was also a slight sense of ignorance and gentle awkwardness about us. The actual content of our first lovemaking together was limited to holding one another each generating a climax in the other, it wasn't sex it was love. We lay together and I soothed Matt's wounded behind, I felt terrible that I had been the cause of so much pain and humiliation. But Matt was worried that I had lost my job and income.

    It was time to tell my friend something about me. "Thing is," I said, "I need to work, of course I do but that's for something to do rather than to earn money. I do have a private income, some may even say I have small a fortune."

    "Lucky !"

    "Well not really," I tried to explain. "I inherited everything from my parents when they died. I didn't sell the house, I let it and so that brings an income and I still own Dad's share in the business."

    "Oh I see." Matt sounded sorry and said as much for bringing up the subject. Of course he knew nothing of my parents' untimely death.

    I dismissed his fears, it had been a traumatic time and was behind my not staying on at Oxford to start my PhD but I was over it now. Besides when I returned to Oxford I would now have young Matt with me. I told him the story of their death and my inheritance. We talked for a long time before I worried about the hour.

    "What time do you need to be leaving ?" I asked. "I mean what time will your parents be expecting you home ?"

    "They are away for the week-end," Matt explained then hesitatingly added, "So I can stay the night if you want me to."

    Did I want him to ? Hell I wanted him to !

    What a week-end we had, no words of superlature could properly tell you how truly wonderful it was. We spent hours on end just holding each other, laying close often naked and in that short space of time our love making moved from fumbling naivety to that of expertise. How I loved Matthew and how I basked in his reflected love for me.

    We drank too much wine together and ate all kinds of snack food. It was simple but for us then we were in a party at the Ritz and dining on food prepared by the world's best chef.

    "Will life in Oxford be as wonderful as this ?" Matt asked.

    "Better," I whispered, kissing him gently and then making love yet again.

    More than an hour later we lay back and relaxed in one another's arms. "We can take a house in the city, live together and spend as much time as we like just like this."

    "Wonderful."

    But the time eventually came when Matt had to return home and while we postponed that eventuality until the very last moment but it could be put off no longer.

    "Before you go," I said holding on to his presence just slightly longer, "let me phone Professor Coldrick and arrange when I can see him."

    Dear Old Professor Coldrick was delighted to hear from me and invited me to visit him the very next day.

    "He's such a kind man," I explained to Matthew. "You'll like him and he will certainly like you."

    Matthew had to leave, the evening was fast approaching and his parents would soon be home. We said our good-bye's, taking a long time to do so, and finally, finally he left. My home was again empty and I alone but never before had I been quite so happy, never before quite so elated. I had my whole life ahead of me and prayed that every day of it would be spent with Matthew.

    I was up early the next morning and drove up to Oxford, I wandered round it's dreaming spires on a warm spring day before making my way to Balliol College and seeking out Professor Coldrick. We sat in his rooms at the front of the famous old college drinking tea and eating sandwiches as I retold my story to my mentor and friend.

    "If young Matthew is half as brilliant as you say he is," the professor smiled, "then he has to come here to Balliol, to let him go anywhere else would be a folly. And you will be returning to take your PhD ?"

    I nodded.

    "And then what ?"

    "I want to write Professor, I want to be a journalist."

    "And what career does Matthew intend to follow ?"


    "I have no idea, we have not talked properly about it."


    "Then I shall talk about it with him."


    I drank some more tea from the finest china tea service Professor Coldrick reserved just for his special guests and asked something I had secretly been worrying about.

    "Is it right professor, what I am doing to Matt ?"

    "Doing to ?" he said emphasising his words with an enquiring tone. "You are not doing anything to, it sounds together to me. You told me just now that Matthew said he would be your Bosie and you his Oscar."

    "Yes."

    "The age difference between Bosie Douglas and Oscar Wilde was, of course, much greater than that of you and Matthew, and you two are very different characters but let me ask you a question. Was Oscar Wilde a good influence on Lord Alfred Douglas ?"

    "Yes, he was."

    "And was Lord Alfred Douglas a good influence on Oscar Wilde ? Did he truly love him ?"

    I considered the question briefly then answered, "No, I don't think he was. Douglas ruined Oscar's life, sent him to gaol and made him a social outcast. And no I don't think he loved him as much as Oscar loved him."

    "You are wrong !" The professor paused to let his words assimilate themselves in my mind. "Absolutely wrong ! I knew Bosie Douglas and can tell you he loved Oscar with every last fibre of his being right until the day he died."

    I was fascinated to learn that my friend actually knew Bosie Douglas and he sensed my curiosity.

    "Oscar Wilde, as I am sure you know Noel," the professor began, "died in 1900 and even though many an undergraduate would have me as ancient as the walls of Balliol College itself I was not, myself, born at that time. Bosie Douglas survived him for forty-five years. Both he and Wilde went to Magdalene College, my own college as a young undergraduate you know, and in his late years I became well acquainted with Lord Alfred, Bosie, Douglas. True he had married, had a son and moved on but I can assure you there was not a single day in which he did not love Oscar Wilde."

    I smiled.

    "I am passionately fond of him and he of me. There is nothing I would not do for him and if he dies before I do I shall not care to live any longer. Surely there is nothing but what is fine and beautiful in such a love as that of two people for one another, the love of the disciple and the philosopher. Bosie's words," Coldrick said. "I expect you are familiar with the quote.

    Actually I wasn't.

    "One day perhaps, in years to come, a different society may look more understandingly upon the Love that Dare not Speak it's Name as Bosie wrote in his famous poem. I pray that time may not be so far away that you and young Matthew will benefit from it."

    "Thank you Professor."

    "And now you must bring Matthew to Balliol without delay so that his enrolment as an undergraduate for this autumn can begin. We are a small faculty and there is no time to lose. Bring him here for tea on Wednesday."

    "This Wednesday ?"

    "Certainly, I look forward to meeting him."

    I drove back home from Oxford in high spirits, I opened the windows of the car and let the air blow right through. "I'm going to buy a new car," I thought to myself, "one that is convertible and on days like this I will let the top down and drive open to the sky."

    How happy I was, how much I loved Matthew and how warm I felt with the understanding of Professor Coldrick. I knew he would understand, I suspected he had known for some time my preference for those of my own sex and that he would be supportive. Since the loss of my parents I had come to regard him as a father figure and his words had the highest influence on me.

    My happiness grew as the miles home became shorter, that was until a terrible premonition of foreboding came over me. It haunted me like a spectre. At first it was not clear, but it involved Matthew. Matthew was in trouble, great trouble - NO - his mind was in great trouble. What was it ? He was crying, I knew he was. He was terribly distressed and I needed to be with him. I needed to be with him as quickly as possible.

    I pressed my foot to the floor, the accelerator urging the car's engine to a new and higher speed. The new dual carriageway on the A40 was clear and I sped towards my lover so that I could comfort him.

    Matthew was where I knew he would be, outside my home waiting for my return. The car screamed to a halt and I flung open the door, bound across the short distance and held Matthew firmly in my arms.

    "What ever is it ?"

    "He promised on Friday it would be all over. He lied. The bastard. He promised that caning me would be the end of it all but he lied."

    "What's he done ?" I was scared. Not for myself but for Matthew. His place at the country's top university had just been secured and now looked as if it may not be quite so assured. Professor Coldrick would probably take no notice of a bigoted grammar school headmaster but the Dean of Balliol may, he was a different case. "What's he done ?" I repeated my question

    "He's asked my father to come and see him," Matthew sobbed. "He got his secretary to phone Dad earlier, she said the Headmaster had something of importance to discuss in private with him that could affect my future. Oh Noel what are we going to do ?"

    "When is your Dad going to see him ?"

    "Day after tomorrow, Wednesday at two o'clock. What are we going to do ? He's going to tell him about us, after he said he wouldn't. I don't know how Dad will take it."

    "How do you know about the phone call ?"

    "Dad told me when I got home from school, he was made redundant last week so he is at home in the daytime now."

    "Does he know what the meeting is about ?"

    "No he asked me that and I said it was probably about me going to Oxford now instead of Bristol. He's so proud about that, he's so proud of me and now everything is going to be destroyed."

    I tried to think quickly. "Perhaps the meeting really is about Oxford," I suggested.

    "Do you think that could be possible ?" Matthew sounded hopeful.

    "No, to be honest I would doubt that. He is going to tell your father about us and tell him to make sure he keeps you away from me."

    "I'd never let anyone do that," Matthew said still crying.

    "What's you father like ?" I asked. "What kind of a man is he ?"

    "He's Ok, an ordinary guy. I'm an only child and he thinks everything of me. That bastard will destroy him if he tells him about us and god knows what it will do to Mum."

    "I think I need to meet your father," I said. "To get a measure of him, to let him meet me and form an opinion of me. Then we will tell him ourselves and bugger that old sod at school."

    "But we can't," Matthew protested.

    "I wonder," I said aloud thinking. "Perhaps we could get Professor Coldrick to speak to the Head and persuade him to keep quiet."

    "But," Matthew sighed. "Dad must never know."

    "Wednesday you say, your dad has his appointment at school on Wednesday ?"

    "Yes."

    "That's when I have promised to take you to Oxford to meet Professor Coldrick."

    "Oh Noel I'll never be going to Oxford now will I ?"

    "Oh yes you will," I assured. "I'm going to sort this. Trust me."

    "I do trust you Noel." He kissed me gently on the cheek.

    "Now dry your eyes, clean your face. We are going to see your father, now. We won't tell him anything, we have nearly two days grace before the meeting at school. I just want you to introduce us and for us to get to know each other a little. I'll call Professor Coldrick tomorrow and see what he says is best for us to do."

    Matthew cheered himself up and tried to smile.

    "It will be alright," I assured him, "it really will." But deep down I was scared to the last fibre of my being. I honestly did not know how ever this evil twist of fate could be untangled.

    Matthew's parents were truly wonderful people and welcomed me into their home.

    "Matthew talks so much about you Mr Dawes," his mother said. "he thinks you are wonderful."

    "Please don't call me Mr Dawes," I smiled. "it's Noel."

    "Doesn't seem right," Matthew's father said, "calling a teacher by his first name."

    "I'm not a teacher any more," I said. "I only went to work at Matthew's school on a temporary contract and even that I have had to bring to an end early because of personal reasons."

    "So you won't be teaching Matthew any more ?"

    I explained that with their permission I would like to tutor Matthew on a private basis and went on to tell them all about my visit to Oxford earlier that day.

    "But we don't have any money to pay you for giving Matthew private lessons ?" Mrs Parker explained. "My husband has just been made redundant."

    "Bless you, I didn't mean for anyone to pay for my time, Matthew is brilliant and I would gladly give of all my time to tutor such a mind."

    "That is very generous of you."

    "What kind of work were you in Mr Parker," I asked. "I am so sorry to hear that you have lost your job."

    "I'm a driver, trucks. The firm went bust and we've all lost our jobs. Not easy with so much unemployment about."

    "Trucks ?"

    "Yes."

    "Have you ever driven coaches ?" I enquired, an idea beginning to form in my mind.

    "Yes, and I still have my PSV license up to date."

    "That's good. Have you ever heard of Sureway Travel."

    "Certainly I have, you see their coaches everywhere."

    "Not everywhere surely, we only have twenty-five vehicles although we are planning to add five more to the fleet this summer."

    I could see Matthew's dad looking at me and picking up carefully on some of my words.

    "Come and drive for Sureway," I said.

    "Not easy to get a job with them," he said. "They demand the best drivers and pay above the going rate so there is always a waiting list to work there."

    "Not when you know the transport manager like I do," I smiled. "How soon could you start ?"

    "Dawes," Matt's father said. "Noel Dawes. Dawes was the name of the chap who owned Sureway Travel, wasn't he killed in a crash a while back ?"

    "My father," I replied. "and now I own his half of the business. His partner runs the day to day side of things but half of Sureway Travel is mine so if I say the company takes you on, the company takes you on. Simple as that."

    "I don't know what to say. I mean thank you, I'm sorry about your father, I mean I don't really know what to say. You're Noel Dawes, well fancy that."

    Matthew looked on incredulously.

    I held a hand up to stop him. "It's nothing, honestly, and if I can help then - well I would like to."

    Matt's mother started to add her thanks and I had also to stop her flow of gratitude.

    "Anything we can do in return you must ask."

    I thought and said, "There is something. Professor Coldrick has asked me to bring Matthew up to Oxford on Wednesday to meet him, I know you have an appointment at school on the same day but your time would be better spent in Oxford. To be honest I think the Headmaster will try to dissuade you with regard to Matt going to Balliol College but you must trust me he is wrong." I was lying but doing my best to sound persuasive.

    "I don't like the man," he said. "He frightens me."

    I smiled.

    "I'll call his secretary and postpone your meeting, it'll come better from me."

    I had bought us some time but for how long ? When I left Matt was again his happy self, believing that I had saved the situation but I hadn't. I knew there was a lot more to do and prayed that dear old Professor Coldrick would have the needed powers of persuasion. I hoped that the headmaster would be in sufficient awe in the presence of a celebrated Oxford Don that he would listen to him and not speak to Matt's father. I would phone Professor Coldrick in the morning and share our dilemma.

    That night I found it difficult to sleep, so worried was I for my young lover. What if the Headmaster would not listen to Professor Coldrick ? What harm could he do ? Was my offering Matt's father a form of bribery ? I had not meant it that way. Stopping the meeting was only a postponement, Matthew's parents would have eventually to know the truth of our relationship. The hours of the night slipped by and still my brain raced. One AM, Two AM, Three, half-past. I remember looking at the clock and registering four before merciful slumber finally overtook me. But it wasn't a restful sleep, I was plagued with the most horrific dreams.

    Normally I am an early riser but that morning I did not awake until ten and only then as a result of the incessant telephone ringing. I ignored it the first time but no sooner had it silenced than it's infernal bell began again.. The third time I gave way, clambered out of bed and fumbled the receiver to my ear.

    "Destiny ! Destiny !" I recognised the voice, of course I did but what was Matthew talking about ? "Destiny ! Destiny!" He repeated again.

    "What are you talking about ?" I said.

    "Destiny ! He's dead. The old bastard's dead."

    "The Headmaster ?"

    "Yes ! Dropped dead last night. Heart attack. There was a special assembly this morning where the whole school was told. The old bastard is dead. Don't you see Noel, don't you see what this means ?"

    I did, of course I did. The meeting with Matthew's father would not take place the next day or ever and so our secret would remain our secret until we ourselves were ready to reveal it. I should have felt some sadness at his death but I did not, I was pleased he was dead. As Matthew had excitedly shouted down the phone destiny was at work. I hated him for caning Matthew and humiliating him in such a way, I hated him for his intent to destroy our relationship and set Matthew's family against me. My thoughts turned briefly to the sudden death of my own parents and how hard a time it brought to me. Did he have a family, did he have sons to grieve at his death ? I didn't know and I didn't care. My heart celebrated.


    ***


    It was now five years since I had been a fresher at Oxford and things had changed. As a postgraduate PhD student most of my time would be spent in research while Matt was to be launched into the hurly burly life that awaits a new student.

    I suppose I had friends at Oxford but they were more a series of acquaintances. The loss of my parents, my year out and then meeting Matthew divorced me from many of the friendships I had previously enjoyed. Matthew, on the other hand, made friends very quickly , lots and lots of them. Several he brought back to the house. I have to confess that I began to feel ever so slightly jealous, silly as I knew that as each day passed Matt loved me more and more. But when he told me there was a small gay community within Oxford I was just a little worried. What if he met somebody else ? Somebody who was better than me ? What if - ? Matthew was everything to me and the thought of life without him was impossible to bear. I should have spoken with him about all this but I did not want to hurt him and of course there could never be any grounds for my silly thoughts. Better to forget them.

    But there was one who worried me. His name was Stephen and he tool was a first year student at Balliol. He and Matthew had become friends and he often visited our home. Yes I feared he may try to take Matthew away from me. I knew that Matthew would never do that of his own volition, so much did he love me, but I feared another untimely intervention of Destiny.

    My birthday was approaching and Matthew had talked how we could celebrate it. In my attempts to give him a birthday showing just how much I loved Matthew I feared I may have been excessive and given him something impossible to emulate in celebrating my own birthday. Would that in itself perhaps be enough to put a distance between us ? I worried about it.

    But the physical side of our lives was better than it had ever been and it had always been great but if I never made love with Matthew ever again it would not have mattered just so long as we were together. But I had terrible fears we would not be.

    Then there was the phone call.

    Matthew should have been home but was late back from college. The phone rang and I picked it up. The caller launched into what he had to say before I had the chance to explain it was Noel and not Matthew.

    "Hi mate, you up for another session ? I'm free this evening."

    I recognised the voice, it was Stephen. My legs turned to jelly. "I think you have the wrong number." It was all I could think to say.

    "Sorry." The line went dead.

    Hi mate, you up for another session ? I'm free this evening. The words haunted me. Session could mean working together, they were on the same course, it didn't have to mean sex. Did it ? I just sat down and cried.

    Matthew came home an hour latter and I tried to appear normal. But I could not conceal very much.

    "Noel, are you all right ? You've been crying, what's the matter ?"

    He put his arms round me and held me tightly.

    "I love you Matthew," I sobbed.

    "Hey Noel I know that."

    "I could, I mean I never will love anyone else you know that don't you ?"

    "Of course I do. What's the matter Noel ?"

    "I'm being silly. All those guys at college."

    "You're jealous !"

    "No, well yes I suppose I am."

    He laughed. I cried some more.

    "Come upstairs and I'll show you how much I love you silly."

    I wanted to ask him about Stephen, the phone call - if only to empty my mind but left these things unsaid.

    Matthew stood to face me and stroked a finger under each eye making to wipe away my tears. Then he undid the buttons on my shirt and floated his hands over my chest before kissing me.

    "Remember the first time we did this ?"

    I nodded.

    "And how that fool of a headmaster thought he could stop our love ? I hope he is looking down now and can see just how much we mean to each other."

    "Yes."

    "I would die for you Noel."

    "And me for you."

    Matthew lifted his own shirt up over his head and placed my hand on his breast. "Feel my heart beating ? It beats only to say I Love You."

    His hands were now on my trousers and soon I was naked closely followed by Matthew. My body was filled with ecstasy and all my earlier fears were gone.

    "Have I ever told you Noel what a beautiful arse you have ?"

    "Many times."

    "Well I want to tell you again."

    His fingers parted my cheeks and felt their way inside. Slowly they moved in deeply and made ready for that which was to follow. With an anticipated thrill I awaited that which was to follow. As he withdrew his fingers my body shook then tensed in preparation for love to enter me. That anticipation was heightened as Matt gently stroked the line between my buttocks with his firm cock. And then the pleasure came.

    No matter how many times we made love, no matter how relaxed I was that initial penetration always hurt. But it was a pain of pleasure and Matthew knew just how to use it. This time he used it in a different way pushing all the way inside me in a single movement. I screamed out in agony. Beads of sweat formed on the surface of my back.

    "See how much I love you Noel."

    See ? Not only that I could feel it as he began thrusting in and out of me. Faster and faster he propelled his love into me, deeper and deeper with each push and with it increased the pain but still I cried out for more. And more was what he gave me.

    This love making went on for a long time until Matt finally came but he did not stop there. With loving hands he rolled me flat onto my back and spread my legs. The kneeling between them leaned forward to take my throbbing cock into his mouth. His tongue tantalised me dancing in circles round the head and my tight foreskin. I had been long generating precum and Matthew's deep and long penetration of me left things very near to climax. And when the climax came it was one of the best ever.

    Reassured I tried to put the worries aside and look forward to my birthday. It fell on a Saturday and I anticipated a quiet day with neither of us having anything to do at university.

    Normally we were not late to bed and never would one of us retire without the other. That Friday Matthew appeared in no hurry to go upstairs. I guessed that he was waiting for midnight but what exactly was he up to ?

    At one second past the hour he kissed me on the cheek saying, "Just one moment lover."

    Leaving the room he left me alone to wonder until he returned with a gift wrapped package. It measured about twelve inches by perhaps eighteen and some inch to an inch and a half in thickness. It was obviously a picture but what ?

    "Open it up," he said with the bubbling excitement of a small child. "I do hope you like it, I mean it isn't Broadway, Concord or the Waldorf Astoria but -"

    I held up a hand to stop him and began slowly tearing away the paper. As the picture revealed itself astonishment filled me to overflowing, my chest muscles tightened and tears poured from my eyes.

    "Oh Matt !"

    "You like it ?"

    What could I say ? I had never seen anything like it. It was a masterpiece in its own right. How ever had my precious lover managed to get such a breathtakingly magnificent present for my birthday ? It was a perfect gift, I was lost for words.

    "Matthew this is so special, so - so - so everything. How did you manage this ?"

    The picture was a water colour portrait of Matthew but my own image had cleverly been used as a background. The skill of the artist in blending the two likenesses was something I had never seen before. Words here just can not portray the beauty it contained. I just could not stop crying.

    "Hey," Matthew said, "enough of that."

    I may have been crying but as I studied the beautiful painting and saw the signature of the artist in the bottom right corner I began to choke for breath as inner emotions told me what a total fool I had been. How ever could I have considered that Matthew would be unfaithful to me ? That signature - Stephen - so that was why Matthew had been spending time with him, he was the painter. "Oh Matthew," I sobbed, "I love you so very, very much !"

    Not a day went by when I did not tell Matthew how much I loved him and not a day when he did not tell me how much he loved me. Our lives were perfect. Matthew was a top student and my dear friend Professor Coldrick took me aside in order to explain just how brilliant he was.

    "He will go far, very far," the old professor smiled.

    "Not just our college but the entire university is fortunate to have his mind. Mark my words Noel one day he will rise to the highest places in this university - even perhaps to become its Vice Chancellor."

    I agreed.

    "Now what about you Noel ? What are you going to do when you finish your doctorate ?"

    It was a subject I had been agonising over for some time. I waned to be a journalist but the idea of writing newspaper or magazine reports did not inspire me I shared my thoughts with the professor.

    "I've been approached by an American television company," he began. They are looking for a young and attractive British academic to front a series of programmes they plan to make on Shakespeare's plays."

    This sounded interesting.

    "I told them that if you would agree to take the position they would get a lot more than just a front man presenter."

    "I think I may like to apply for the position," I said.

    "I thought you would." Professor Coldrick hesitated. "It will mean traveling a lot, the company is based in America and filming locations will be different for each play they feature. You'll be away from Oxford a lot."

    Oh, I couldn't bear that ! It would men being away from Matthew and Professor Coldrick knew only too well how I would feel about that.

    The professor put his hands together as if he were holding something. "If you take a flower and hold it tightly you will crush it," he smiled. "If you keep it tight in a tiny pot of soil its roots can not grow, you have to let it expand and grow if you want to see the full beauty of its blooms."

    I moved to explain that I could not bear to be away from Matthew.

    "I told the television company that if you fronted their series they would be gaining a literary archaeologist," he said returning to the earlier part of our conversation. I am the only person they have approached to recommend someone for the role and yours is the only name I have given them. Talk it over with Matthew. promise ?"

    "I promise."


    ***


    And so it was I started work as the head researcher and programme presenter with KLTV in New York and began initial work before the end of my final term at Oxford and the award of my PhD. I knew how terribly I would miss the place but that was nothing to how much I was going to miss my beloved Matthew when we would be apart.

    The day of the graduation ceremony was extraordinary. Matthew and his parents were my special guest at the presentation in the Caledonian Theatre at the heart of the university. With my fellow graduate doctors I was dressed in a scarlet red gown and paraded through the ancient courtyard into the theatre.

    The degrees were presented that year by the Prime Minister and after the ceremony she engaged me in a lengthy conversation during the cocktail party.

    "So tell me Doctor Dawes," she said, "what are you going to do with your degree ?"

    "I've got a job as a literary archaeologist Prime Minister."

    "A literary archaeologist ? What's one of those ?"

    I explained and she appeared genuinely interested. "So which of Shakespeare's plays are you going to feature ?"

    "We're starting with Romeo and Juliet."

    "Wonderful ! I adore that play although Denis is more of a Macbeth person. Look I want you to promise me that you will let me know when the first television programme is to be shown and I promise you that I will watch it."

    "Thank you Prime Minister."

    "Denis," she called, "come over here I want you to meet Doctor Dawes, a literary archaeologist."

    I was introduced then to the Prime Minister's husband and I in turn introduced them both to Matthew. Denis appeared slightly ruffled at meeting a gay couple but the Prime Minister maintained that cool exterior for which she has become famous.

    After the reception Matthew's Mum and Dad took me out for dinner. I loved them both so much. Matthew's Mum had accepted our relationship right from its earliest of days and while his father never spoke of it as she had he too, of course, knew we were together in every sense of the word and silently gave us his blessing. Although I had never been that close to my own parents I missed them terrbly and had somewhat put Matthew's Mum and Dad in their place.

    And, of course, there was my dear old friend and mentor Professor Coldrick, he had tears in his eyes as he congratulated me.

    "Thank you Professor, I never could have done this without your support."

    "Doctor Dawes," he smiled wiping a tear away. "I am so proud of you."

    "Thank you Professor."

    "Noel now that you have achieved the distinction of becoming a Doctor of Philosophy at The University of Oxford do you think you may find it possible to stop calling me Professor all the time and use my christian name, Bill ?"

    "I'll try Professor."

    He smiled.

    I had recruited my fellow researchers to work with me on the project before my graduation. It made sense for the team to be based in England and the production company rented a small office in Oxford for us to work from. Matthew had been able to come with me over the summer on my several trips to New York so we had managed not to be separated. That year was his twenty-first birthday and so our relationship at last became legal, silly how many years had still to pass before the age for homosexual majority was to be lowered to eighteen. It made me smile a little to think that the Prime Minister had stood for so long chatting and showing a genuine interest in the work of a law breaker.

    It was agony being apart from Matthew when I made that first trip to New York alone. My heart bled all the way and all the time we were apart. It is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder as we found when I came home and we were reunited again. Although my trips abroad were frequent the pain never became any less and the joy of return always was greater than the time before.

    How I loved Matthew and even as a doctor of philosophy I can not here find words strong enough to tell of my love. He was my Alpha and Omega my everything and my all. For ever and beyond but for ever is not long enough for me to tell even a part of our love.

    For much of that year we settled into a routine where I would fly to New York on a Monday morning and then take the overnight flight home on either Wednesday or Thursday. I started using Concorde as its fast flight time was a bonus and the production company was quite happy to pay the high fare but it was not a comfortable aircraft and so after a few trips I changed to a traditional Boeing 747 where in the first class cabin the seats would lay flat to form a bed. I guess after a couple of months I became immune to jet lag.

    Back in Oxford the research work was going very well indeed and the script writers were nearing the point where we could begin filming for the first play. If all went well we would be able to start that summer and I planned that Matthew and I would be able to take a holiday in Verona at the same time.

    Matthew had now been at Oxford for three years and the next would be his final, I suggested to him that he too should take a PhD.

    "One doctor in the family is enough," he said. "I want to write Noel, I'd like to devote time to writing novels but to begin with I'll be happy with a job as a journalist on a provincial newspaper."

    Matthew was his own man of course but I wasn't happy to see the potential he had not finish up with a PhD degree. I think he sensed my unease and I know now that this just pushed him more towards his ambition.

    Verona was hot and our hotel did not have air conditioning which made sleeping at night uncomfortable. The heat of the day was really to hot to work in and I felt very sorry for the actors having to perform dressed in heavy costumes. Fortunately for myself I was able to appear before the camera in casual summer clothing. But even so the make up people had constantly to mop my brow and powder my face to stop beads of sweat shining on the film.

    "You're going to be a star," Matthew said kissing me after one long filming session. "The whole world will watch the famous Doctor Noel Dawes on their television."

    He may have been right but there was a lot of work still to do before the first screening of anything could take place. Back in New York the guys had sold already our first series on Romeo and Juliet to stations in America, Canada, Australia and even the BBC back home in England. I guessed I would indeed become a familiar face.

    That afternoon we did not return to the hotel to eat but found a small bar in a quiet district of Verona where we sat in the shade, drank wine, ate pasta and enjoyed one another's company. It was late when we returned to be met by an agitated desk clerk.

    "Doctor Dawes, Doctor Dawes there is an urgent message from you. It's from the Master of Balliol College in England, he has telephoned three times and asks that you call him at his home as soon as you return."

    The Master of Balliol ? What ever could he want that was so important ? The desk clerk ushered me to a telephone, "I will get the number for you."

    "Doctor Dawes," the master said, "thank god you've called."

    "What's the matter Master ?"

    "It's Bill Coldrick, he had had two heart attacks and is gravely ill. He is asking for you and Matthew to come to see him."

    Professor Coldrick, I was horrified. "How ill is he Master ?"

    "Very ill Doctor Dawes, please come as quick as you can, I fear any delay may be too late."

    I immediately called Sureway Travel and spoke to the member of staff who was on call that night. "I need to get back to England from Verona now," I said. "I have to leave immediately."

    Verona to Oxford was not an easy journey and took us until late the following afternoon. We went straight to the Radcliff Hospital and prayed that we were not too late. From what I had learned from The Master of Balliol dear old Professor Coldrick had been taken ill while sitting in his garden, a neighbour called an ambulance and he had his second attack shortly after reaching the hospital. He was gravely ill and his heart was very weak.

    We found him still alive and when we entered his small private room he asked a nurse to prop him up so he could speak with us.

    "I am so happy to see you both, I wanted to speak with you before I go to meet my maker."

    "You'll be fine professor," I said, "you are going to get well again."

    "I can see my boy that you are not a doctor of medicine."

    I took his hand as I sat by his side. Matthew laid his hand on top of my own.

    "You have to get well again Professor, how else can I go to sleep in your lectures ?"

    He laughed.

    "Look I want you to have something. You remember that photograph of Oscar Wilde I gave you some years ago."

    "Of course, we have it in a silver frame in our bedroom at home."

    "I told you at the time, if I recall rightly that Bosie gave it to me shortly before he died and that there were some other things he entrusted to me, things Oscar had given to him."

    "Yes."

    "There are three things, and now I want you to have them. Bosie would approve of that. There is an envelope in the cupboard on the other side of the bed, I had someone fetch it here for you. Get it please."

    Matthew walked round the bed, opened the small bedside cupboard and brought out the envelope. It was quite large and he went to hand it to Professor Coldrick.

    "You open it please, I am too weak."

    Matthew looked at me. I nodded.

    Inside were two leather bound books one considerably larger than the other and a small envelope. Matthew passed them to me. The envelope contained a lock of blond hair, obviously Bosie's, as golden and shining as the day it had been clipped from his head. One of the volumes was a hand written copy of Oscar Wilde's poem the Ballad of Reading Gaol and I recognised the handwriting from the inscription on the back of the photograph at home, it was that of Oscar Wilde himself. The second book was much larger and again written in Wilde's own hand, the title page had just three words on it: My Dearest Bosie.

    The Professor tried to lift himself up and Matthew went to his aid. "That is a secret and unpublished autobiography that Oscar wrote of his life with Bosie, my dear boys it is beautiful - read it won't you."

    "Of course Professor."

    "I want you to have these things now. I want to pass Bosie's trust on to you, take care of them."

    And with those words he lay back, closed his eyes and no longer was with us. I owed so much to that man, we both did and now he was gone. Life would not be the same without him.

    That night Matthew and I lay in bed and read together Oscar Wilde's autobiography. I wasn't full of wit and sarcasm as are his publicly know works but instead an outpouring of love telling of his relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas from the day the first met to Oscar's exile in France. It was so moving, oh so moving.

    When we got to the last page we found a folded sheet of white paper held against the cover. The writing was not the same this was the familiar round and flourishing hand of Bill Coldrick.

    It read:

    I once asked you Noel if you thought Oscar was a good influence on Bosie Douglas and if he truly loved him. You see now just how much he did. Only five people have ever read this work: Oscar Wilde himself, Bosie Douglas, myself and now you two. I love you two boys as a father would love his favourite sons. I also loved Lord Alfred as a son would love his father. Yes, I have the same feelings as do you two, as did Oscar and Bosie. Bosie was so kind to me when I was younger and he in the twilight of his years, he counselled me and advised me it is just a shame that I never found anyone to share my life with in that way. You have each other and a precious love which will serve you for the rest of your lives. I count it as a great honour and a privilege to have known you, bless you both.
    Bill

    The funeral of Professor William Coldrick was attended by more than a thousand people including two members of the cabinet and academics from all over the world. I would miss my mentor and Matthew would now have to finish his final year at Oxford without him.

    The two books which Professor Coldrick had entrusted to our keeping were priceless, we had no intention, of course, of ever selling them and decided that it would be impossible to purchase insurance to cover them. We did not feel their proper place was in a bank deposit box and so invested in a high quality safe which we had installed at home.

    I had to return to Italy, the schedule had now been put behind by my enforced absence. Of course Matthew came with me and of course it was hard for me when he had to return for the start of the new term and his final year at Oxford. It was doubly hard for me as direct from filming I had to go to new York for three solid weeks of editing. Matthew joined me for one of the week-ends but it was such a long way to travel for such a short time together.

    The first Shakespeare play in the series was nearing completion and would run as six separate ninety minute programmes. It was scheduled to be shown in England in the New Year. Already the research team was advanced in our next project Macbeth and filming for that was just a few weeks away. Everything was so busy. My birthday was approaching and I told the team I would be taking three days off work.

    Birthdays for Matthew and I are always special times and each year we try to do something unique for the other. The portrait Matthew had commissioned was singularly exceptional but for this birthday he surpassed even that. I was given a thick heavy package containing a typed manuscript. At first I though Matthew had been able to get hold of an original draft of a modern classic, something by Graham Green or Agatha Christie perhaps but it was not. Matthew himself was the author of a novel containing several hundred thousand words.

    Reading just the first page was enough to tell me that this was a classic in its own right.

    "When did you find time to write this ?" I asked. "And to keep it a secret from me ? It must have taken you an age."

    "I began when you first went abroad and worked on it every time you were away. It's not intended for publication Noel, just for you with all of my love."

    I heard him but I was busy reading. "This is good Matthew, very good."

    "Well I hope you like it, happy birthday."

    Those three days away from work to celebrate my birthday we given over to two things: reading Matthew's novel and making love to him. In my years of study and research I had not found a first work by any of the internationally acclaimed writers which could compare to the genius contained in that script. There was at the time a popularity for intricate love stories and Penmarric by Susan Howach and The Thorne Birds by Colleen McCullough had both recently been serialised on television. Matthew's novel was in the same genre but better, a thousand times better. The story was haunting and I could not put it down. Hour after hour I read it and when I went to bed its story would not leave me.

    "You are a genius," I said, "I only wish Professor Coldrick could have read this."

    "He read many of the drafts," Matthew said. "It was hard when he died but some how as I wrote it I could feel him looking over me with a hand on my shoulder."

    "I love you so much Matthew, thank you for such a wonderful present."

    "I have another present for you."

    "Have you ? What's that ?"

    "This," he said before kissing me and making long, hard and passionate love to me.

    Although I could not bare the times we were apart Professor Coldrick had been right about the absence deepening our love and bringing a maturity to our relationship. As I read his novel I could see this within his writing.

    "Matthew," I said pausing after having read almost half of the work, "you have to submit this for publication."

    "But I wrote it for you, I love you Noel and my love is written into every page but it isn't good enough for publication, not really."

    "Matthew you will have every publishing house in the world lining up for this."

    I don't think he believed me but agreed that I could show it to the executive producer of the TV company next time I was in new York and take his advice. And with that we made love again.

    I knew exactly what his reaction would be. He took just one day to read the manuscript. "Noel this is amazing and yes we would like the rights to film it. I have to speak to my bosses of course but you can tell young Matthew I believe they will pay handsomely for it, very handsomely."

    I called Matthew straight away.

    Destiny was being very good to us and it was so easy to forget the bad times it had once given us. Before the end of his final year Matthew had signed a joint publishing and film rights contract for his novel with an advance of half a million dollars.

    After a build up of publicity over Christmas the first part of my own Shakespearian epic was screened in the New Year. Audience figures were high and the critics kind. Overnight I became a minor celebrity and could see heads turn as I walked down the street and voices whisper: That's Doctor Dawes from the TV. Matthew found it all very amusing.

    "You wait, your turn is coming !"

    "Oh no a novelist is an enigma behind his story."

    "Yeah !"

    Our conversation was interrupted by the telephone ringing. "Could I speak to Doctor Dawes please."

    "Speaking."

    "Good. Sir this is The Prime Minister's Office, the Prime Minister has asked me to book a call with you. Is it convenient for Mrs Thatcher to speak to you in one hour's time."

    "Yes, of course."

    "You are very naughty Doctor Dawes," she said the shrill of her voice cutting through the phone wires. "You made a promise to me that you would let me know when your programme was to appear on television."

    "I'm sorry," I fumbled. "I thought you would have been too busy to watch it."

    "Doctor Dawes when I said I would watch it I mean what I said. Now I want you to come to Downing Street to supper there is something I want to talk to you about. You can come tonight can't you ? Good ! I'll send a car for you and bring that charming companion of yours. I'll send a car to collect you at seven."

    "Yes," it was all I could say this was not a lady to argue with. And with that the line went dead.


    "I think I have just been handbagged," I said to Matthew. The British Prime Minister was an incredible force with an omnipresent will. Even The US President was just a little scared of her. The media had formed the expression To be handbagged as colloquial for receiving a reprimanding lecture from her as a small child would from an angry parent.


    "She only wants your autograph," Matthew teased. "She probably collects autographs for Denis."

    It was Denis Thatcher who received us in an upstairs sitting room upon our arrival through that famous black door. He offered us something to drink and explained that his wife was away signing some papers or something but would be along shortly. We accepted his offer and politely sipped whisky and soda until the Prime Minister swept into the room. She came in like a hurricane and filled every square foot of the room with her personality.

    "Doctor Dawes what would you say is wrong with Britain today ?"

    How long had she got ? I though but did not answer, I had not the time to answer.

    "I'll tell you," she said pouring a large drink and swallowing hard. "We've lost the great in Great Britain. This is a wonderful country Doctor Dawes and it makes me so angry when people put it down, we need a lot more self-pride and determination to succeed." She paused only to down the remainder of her drink before handing it to Denis for a top up. "And that's where you come in Doctor Dawes, I want to get together a small team of successful Britains who are in the public eye and for them to mount a public relations campaign to promote the Great in Britain."

    Thinking just how demanding my job was becoming I really didn't think I would be able to find the time for anything else. It tried to tell her as much.

    "Nonsense !" She said very firmly. "What time do you go to bed at night ?"

    "Elevenish."

    "I never retire before one in the morning and am always up by six. Isn't that right Denis ?"

    "Yes."

    "All you have to do Doctor Dawes is to sleep for one less hour a day and over the week you gain the equivalent of another working day."

    A secretary entered the room and Mrs Thatcher left saying when she returned we would eat.

    "She won't take no for an answer," Denis said. "She doesn't understand the meaning - trust me I've been trying to say it for years. She's already got that Branson fellow, you know the one who runs the airline, involved - he tried to say no as well !"

    So it was that I became involved in the Great Britain promotion on top of everything else. Time was so full and even trying to take Mrs Thatcher's advice I still found myself so busy.

    "You need a secretary," Matthew's Mum said to me one Sunday afternoon.

    "Yeah, you want the job ?" I thought she was joking.

    "Yes please, if you'll have me."

    She was a godsend and after that life became a whole lot easier. Not living in Oxford she had to travel in by train each day so began working just three days a week but in that time she was able to take so much off my shoulders.

    And so the weeks and months passed by, Matthew completed his degree, his book was in the process of being published and the screen play was nearing completion. The first Shakespeare series on Romeo and Juliet had gone down incredibly well and we were now in the advance stage of the Macbeth series. We were doing a lot of filming in Scotland so that year Matthew and I made our holiday in the Highlands.

    It had been a long day at the end of a long week, I was tired and needed to get away from everything. Matthew suggested we take the car and drive into the mountains for the evening. Yes, we still had the trusty TR7 - it went everywhere with us ! We drove for miles, high into the mountains and far away from everything and everyone. The solitude was just what we needed. We parked up and watched the sunset on that warm summer night. I kissed Matthew and we made love there on the grass at the side of the lonely road.

    "Better get back down the road to the hotel," Matthew said.

    "Yep, I guess so."

    I pointed the car back and began to drive. I remember seeing the animal dart into the road. I think it was a deer but can not be certain. It froze in the car headlights and I know I tried to swerve and miss it. I can not remember anything more only the beautiful dream.


    ***


    The dream was very calm and I floated along through it feeling very happy and content. I felt as if I could sleep through it for ever and was unhappy when voices from far away began to disturb me. I was then aware of lights in the night sky and a lot more noise. And then I awoke, I did not open my eyes but I was awake.

    "There's two of them," I heard a voice say. "They're both alive."

    Alive ? Both alive ? I began to remember something of what had happened.

    "Bring in the chopper, we'll take this one first he's lost a lot of blood."

    That noise I had heard in the distance became greater as the rescue helicopter hovered above us. I opened my eyes but could not see anything.

    "Matthew," I tried to say. "Is he alright ? We crashed I think."

    "He's fine," I heard in reply. "You stay calm we'll lift you out next."

    Then I heard: "Hey this is that guy from the television, the Shakespeare fellow."

    And then I fell asleep again but this time the dream was not sweet, it was a nightmare. I saw for the first time the face of Destiny and it was looking straight at me. It was cruel and it was kind it was smiling and then it spoke to me: "Nearly had you that time."

    Then I saw the face of Professor Coldrick looking over me and saying something I could not hear. I listened carefully but I could not understand what he was trying to say. He was joined by two other people, I recognised them - Oscar Wilde and Bosie Douglas. All three of them were speaking but still I could not hear what they were trying to say.

    But I could hear the voice of Destiny as it again said, " Nearly had you that time." Then it laughed with a blood curdling chuckle.

    I wanted the nightmare to end. I wanted to wake up at home in my own bed with Matthew next to me. But where was Matthew ? What had happened to him ? Then I saw Professor Coldrick again, still I could not hear him but I sensed he was telling me Matthew was all right.

    Then it was Destiny again, grinning, laughing. I screamed aloud but no sound could come out of my mouth and I started to choke. Somebody was at my side and doing something to my mouth, I tried to push them away. I wanted to scream but I could not do anything.

    A hand was resting on my arm and I heard a voice but this voice was not from the dream It was reassuring me and slowly I awoke to reality.

    Reality was a hospital bed and two broken legs. Beyond that I was ok. But what of Matthew ? I was told he was all right but I did not trust the information I was being given.

    "He's in another ward," somebody told me. "He's been asking for you. Rest a while and then he can come down to see you."

    I lay back and slept again. I don't know for how long but when I awoke Matthew as by my side. He was in a wheel chair but smiling at me.

    "So how you feeling ?" he asked. A silly question but words which made me so happy, so very happy to hear.

    "I'm all right," I said. "What about you ? Why are you in a wheel chair ?"

    "Nothing broken, which is more than you. You've broken both of your legs you silly sod !"

    "What happened ? I remember something running in front of the car."

    "Well we crashed," Matthew said. "Apparently we both lay in the wreck for two hours before we were lifted out by helicopter."

    "How does anyone know it was two hours ?" I asked.

    "From the broken clock in the car," Matthew explained. "I'm afraid she's a total write off."

    "But you're all right ?"

    "Sort of."

    "What do you mean ?" I was worried.

    "Hey, hey I'm all right I told you. It's just that I lost a bit of blood and went into shock. They gave me a transfusion but the shock damaged my kidney and I've lost some of its function. Buy hey I'm all right !"

    "Then why the wheel chair ?"

    "Don't worry, I told you I am fine."

    But my darling Matthew was not alright, he was quite ill. Matthew had lost a lot of blood and had gone into deep shock which had damaged his one remaining kidney, he was left with just ten percent function. The doctors explained that he could live in the immediate future on such a small function but long term he was looking either at a transplant or dialysis.

    "Destiny I hate you," I whispered.

    Matthew appeared to get back to normal relatively quickly; he was up and about, back to work and full of his usual happy, bubbly self. Work on the promotion of his novel was proceeding and he was busy writing a second. He was also very much involved in scripting the screenplay for the television. It was almost impossible to understand how ill he really was. Ten percent kidney function left him pale and he was losing weight. His previous appetite was gone and it was difficult to get him to maintain the strict calorie intake he needed. He had to take so many pills every day just to keep his metabolism in balance I swear he rattled when he walked.

    It took me several months to get back to normality with many hours of painful physiotherapy. Even today I know I walk with a slight limp. Others say they can not notice it but I know it's there.

    Matthew's mother was brilliant throughout, such a support and as my PA she kept everything together and left me just to get better. I loved her so much and had come to think of her not just as Matthew's mother but also my own.

    The Prime Minister, or at least one of her secretaries in her name, sent me a message to get well soon and said I was not getting out of her project quite so easily. But with the work on the TV series it was impossible for me to take that on as well. In fact the Great Britain campaign never actually happened, other matters which have since gone down in history took their place in occupying the Prime Minister's mind.

    Our special little car, the triumph TR7 I had got the day Matthew left school, was no more. It's loss was like the death of a close and dear friend. While I was still on crutches and unable to drive, Matthew bought us a new Mercedes but it wasn't the same.

    Each day as I got better and regained my strength I became more concerned for Matthew. Oxford is a major centre in England for the treatment of kidney patients, he could not have been in better hands but Destiny was so cruel to him. Matthew attended an out patients clinic every other week where all aspects of his health were closely monitored. But how long could he function on just a small part of a single kidney. I felt anger towards those who had attacked him and ruptured his first kidney and I felt the deepest guilt over the accident which had resulted in his present condition. How long could he go on ?

    Matthew had a great consultant, Geoff, who quickly became a good friend to us both. "Your kidney is like an old car," he said one day, "drive it carefully and it can go on for a long time, thrash it and it will break down tomorrow. Take your medication properly and follow the diet restrictions and you'll be a long way off a transplant or dialysis."

    Transplant ?

    Dialysis ?

    Oh Destiny why are you so cruel ?

    Just four months later Geoff spoke to us both again. He asked Matthew to bring me along to his next clinic appointment and told us that it was time to put Matthew on the transplant list. "It may be a while," he explained, "before a suitable donor is found but if we move now and place you on the list with luck one will turn up before we need to consider dialysis."

    I was terrified. Matthew took the news with a certain anticipation and excitement. "It will be all right," Matthew said placing a loving hand on my arm.

    "This kidney," I said hesitantly, "it will come from! from....."

    "It will be a cadaver donor," Geoff said completing my question and at the same time answering it.

    "What's the possibility of a live donor ?" I continued.

    "Close relatives are possibilities but Mathew you don't have any brothers or sisters and with all respect your parents are getting older now so the operation would not be easy for them."

    "What about me ?"

    Geoff smiled kindly. "Sadly that really isn't an option."

    "Why ?"

    "DNA tissue typing for a kidney transplant has to be quite specific, it's not like a heart or heart and lung transplant. The kidney is a very complex organ and we need as close a match as possible."

    "But it is possible that I could be a match ?"

    "Statistically but in all reality most unlikely."

    "Say I was suitable could I give Matthew one of my kidneys ?"

    Geoff pondered. "It is something we would perhaps consider. Perhaps."

    "Then do your tests or what ever you need and let's see."

    Geoff was not enthusiastic. I pleaded with him and at the same time begged Destiny for its support.

    My constant pestering Geoff had its result when he finally agreed to an initial tissue typing blood test. "It's only a very preliminary test," he explained with care. "First of all the chances of you being a match equate with winning the football pools so please don't get your hopes up. And even then if you are suitable as a donor there will be a whole lot more hurdles to get over."

    The tissue typing test was simple, Matthew and I gave blood samples and the results would be ready in about an hour. The nurse smiled as she stabbed the needle in, it hurt like hell.

    "There that wasn't so bad was it ?"

    I did not comment ! Needles are not my idea of fun but I would have had a thousand blunt needles stuck into me if it would help my beloved Matthew.

    As we waited for the results to come back I concentrated every cell of my mind on willing Destiny to lend me its support. "You owe me," I said silently, "now I am ready to collect."

    I had to fight to keep Geoff's words out of my mind, word where he compared the likelihood of my being suitable as a donor with that of winning the pools. I wondered what Matthew was thinking, our relationship had developed over the time we had been together to a point where one usually knew what the other was thinking but right then everything was blank. But of course my darling Matthew was also in mental torment just the same as I was. I knew he wanted me to be the donor just as much as I did.

    The hour came and went and we were still waiting in the clinic anteroom. Nurses, doctors, clerks, assistants and all manner of different people came by, some recognised me from the television and no doubt some knew why we were there. All smiled kindly as they passed and I prayed that Destiny too was smiling.

    How much longer ?

    Sixty-five minutes !!!!!..

    Seventy !!!!!.

    An hour and a quarter.

    An hour and a half.

    How much longer ?

    Eventually Geoff himself arrived. He was dressed in surgical greens and was still wearing white theatre boots. He looked at us but it was impossible to tell anything from his eyes or facial expression. A few words invited us to follow him into a small consulting room. He closed the door behind us.

    "I wanted to give you the results myself," he said.

    Bad news, I thought.

    "So I can explain things properly to you."

    I reached across and took hold of Matthew's hand.

    "Do you do the football pools ?" he asked.

    I felt a slight hope.

    "Perhaps you should. The results have come back with Noel being a good match."

    The pure joy and relief exploded out of me and it took a while for Geoff to calm me down to the point where he could continue.

    "I find it amazing that someone who is not a blood relative could have so similar a match."

    Thank you Destiny, thank you, thank you, thank you !

    "Were this a standard cadaver transplant we would go ahead without any hesitation, but !"

    "But what ?" I interrupted. "I can be a donor, yes ?"

    "In theory Noel, yes. But I told you before there are a lot of further testes we have still to do. For Matthew a transplant will give him a better quality of life, prolong his life and avoid the need for hemo dialysis but for you Noel we will be removing a healthy organ and damaging your body. There are strict ethics that need to be observed."

    I understood, of course I understood. Thank you Destiny, thank you. Geoff explained the tests which still had to take place but in all honesty I was too excited to take it all in.

    "We can look for a double operation for you both in about four months time but in the mean time we will keep Matthew on the transplant list in case a suitable organ becomes available."

    One wouldn't, I knew that. Destiny had spoken and I was to be the donor.

    That evening we went to see Matthew's parents to give them the news. "I'll hold everything together while you are in hospital," Mum said. "I'll discuss the proposed timing with the production team in the morning. I'm sure they can work round things."

    "Thanks. I don't know what I would do without you."

    She smiled.

    "Noel," Matt's dad said. "There's something I have been meaning to talk to you about. I'll be sixty next year and I'm thinking of retiring then."

    "Sure."