A New World Begins

Homeward bound

We all congregated in the bistro for breakfast just after nine, with me having the Full English of course. The sausages in particular were delicious, I think the chef hand makes them with real meat and fresh herbs rather than buying them in from a supermarket.

“After we’ve finished breakfast, let’s all go for a run around the park,” said Kyle. “Burn off some of this food.”

“That’s a good idea, Kyle,” I said. “I haven’t been swimming for several days, and missed my boxing training to come here, so I need to get some exercise done or I’ll get fat.”

Mr and Mrs Masters both laughed, with Kyle’s mom saying, “I doubt it, somehow. You all seem so full of energy; I don’t think a few days of rest and relaxation will hurt you.”

“If you do get fat, Oregon, I’ll have your tuxedo. I think it might just about fit me, and I’m a gonna need one later this year when I graduate High School and we have our Prom Party.” Lee was smirking and we all laughed at him: he was the one eating a huge portion of gammon and eggs. It wasn’t on the menu, but the waiter hadn’t batted an eyelid when he’d asked for it and gammon and eggs, with some small fried potatoes and a grilled tomato, had appeared at the table soon enough.

Kyle was grinning mischievously. “Have you thought yet who you might invite to accompany you to your Prom?”

“I was thinking of maybe asking one of them cute soldier boys from the Military College.”

“Any one in particular?” asked Kyle. “I hear there are quite a few good catches amongst them.”

“So I hear. I’ve got my eye on one or two of them,” grinned Lee. “Maybe I’d look good with one each arm, especially if they wore their best uniforms to the Prom. Anyway, bud, howwabout you? Thought who you might invite to your graduation party?”

Mr and Mrs Masters were trying hard not to smirk as Kyle and Lee teased each other and both me and Shane just rolled our eyes.

“Oh, I’ve got some options. I’m thinking I may upset the apple cart, perhaps invite one of the town kids along. Maybe the grease monkey who works at the garage.”

“There ya go, Oregon,” laughed Lee, “You heard it here first. I think Kyle just proposed to you.”

* * *

After breakfast we went back up to our rooms and it wasn’t long before first Lee and Kyle, then Mr and Mrs Masters, had congregated in the room me and Shane were sharing ready to set off sightseeing again. I was just finishing packing everything I didn’t need right away into my Bergen. Though it’s New Year’s Day, there are a few trains running and I’m due to head back home on the 18:50 to Poole.  Dad might pick me up from the station in the car but if he doesn’t it’s no great shakes, I can yomp home from there in about thirty minutes.

As I placed it on a towel ready to roll it up, Mr Masters took a good look at my dinner jacket then turned to Kyle. “We should think about getting you measured for a good tuxedo, Kyle. You’re not going to get a better one than from London, look how well Craig’s fitted him.”

Kyle smiled and nodded. “Yes, I guess I’ve done most of my growing. Apart from the muscles. Always a bit more to be done there.”

Mr Masters smiled. “A good tailor builds in a little extra fabric to allow for future alterations, Kyle. Admittedly, more usually for when people get older and need a bit extra round the waist. The stores will be opening up from tomorrow, we could go and get you measured before we go home. Where did you get yours from, Craig?”

“Oh, I didn’t buy it new, I got it from the Cancer Research charity shop back home. Actually, my friend Mandy spotted it. Absolute bargain. Fits me like a glove. Not bad at all for the twenty quid I gave for it. It’s from a proper London tailor though, not a chain store. It’s got a label inside. Probably cost quite a few hundred pounds new.”

Mr Masters laughed. “You should go into budgeting and procurement! I’ll say that’s a bargain. Can I look at the label?”

As he leaned forward, I flipped the jacket open to show the small label inside. “See? It says ‘Anderson and Sheppard. Old Burlington Street.’”

Okay, so maybe not as good as Gieves and Hawke on Savile Row where my dad got his ceremonial uniform tailored when he was ADC to Prince Philip – that cost him a fortune – but it’s still a London tailor. And I didn’t have to go through all the fuss of being measured for it and then wait months for it to be made.”

As Mr and Mrs Masters exchanged a smile, Lee grinned at me. “They godda be a good tailor, Boots, if they can make one of us ‘grease monkeys’ look smart.”

“Arp! Arp!”

“Arp! Arp!”

“Arp! Arp!”

I looked up sheepishly as everyone scanned around the room to find the source of the noise, then fixed their eyes on where my phone lay, slowly vibrating its way along the bedside table as it barked.

“It’s a new ring tone,” I spluttered, feeling my face going bright red. “I give different people different ring tones so I know who’s calling me. That one’s the noise a seal makes…”

“There ya go, Pingu” said Lee, reaching over and passing the phone to me. “I guess it’s Robby.”

“Hi Nat, Happy New Year. Err, I’m with Kyle. And Lee and Shane too. And Mr and Mrs Masters. We’re all together. In London. It’s their holiday. I’m with them too.”

“Quit babbling, Boots. I’ve got the hint,” laughed Nat. “I just found your voicemail. I’m on my way to bed. Been up all night, partying. Stick me on speaker.”

I dabbed at the screen and switched Nat to the speaker. Why did I just do that? What’s he going to say?

“Hi all, Nathan Bauer here. Just calling round to wish all my cadets a ‘Happy New Year’. Looks like I can get several of you with this one call. Hope you have a great one. ‘Hi’ to you too, Ed and Mary, nice to hear from you again, I’ll pass on your regards to pops. You have a good New Year too, Lee, keep Kyle busy so he doesn’t keep butting in on my watch. Make sure you’re back at college on time, Shane, don’t let Boots lead you astray. Bye for now, all.”

As the line went dead I smiled as Kyle looked at me enquiringly.

“I’ve got all my swim mates down as seals, Kyle…”

* * *

Mrs Masters suggested that as the weather was good – cold, but bright and sunny, it would be a nice idea to go and visit Greenwich. With it being New Year’s Day, we weren’t sure exactly what would be open but London is pretty much geared up for tourism so we thought quite a few things would be, and Greenwich is a nice place anyway. There’s the Cutty Sark to see, the National Maritime Museum, the Queen’s House and its art collection, and the Royal Observatory. I would have liked to have gone to see the Wallace Collection, especially the swords and armour, but that’s way out at the other end of London to Greenwich so we can’t do both in one day, especially as I have to get back to Waterloo for my train tonight.  Greenwich is good though, and I made sure to tell Kyle, Lee and Shane about the Wallace Collection in case they have any free time over the last half of their holiday.

We got the Tube to Greenwich and were there by eleven, getting lucky with the Cutty Sark and the Queen’s House. It’s not the current Queen’s house, she prefers Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle: it was originally built for Anne of Denmark, wife of James I, but not completed before she died in 1619. It was completed around 1635 for Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I. That’s what the plaque at the entrance says anyway, oh, and that the new house was such a novelty with its bright stonework that people called it 'The White House'. Yeah, so we were there first again, and the white isn’t paint covering up scorch marks where the Royal Marines burned it down, unlike the other White House.

It was more interesting inside than I expected, and we didn’t need a tour guide: Mrs Masters seemed to know all about it. Kyle smirked and said, ”Mom’s first degree was in Art and Architecture, which was pretty useful when she was a Cultural Attaché at the start of her career, plus now we get free guided tours of anything old and arty. I think we’re lined up for St Paul’s Cathedral tomorrow, whether we like it or not…”

We were starting to get hungry at half two and Mr and Mrs Masters exchanged a sly glance.

“Shall we let them in on a secret?”

“I think so, but don’t tell them where.”

For the next ten minutes Mrs Masters led us through the backstreets of Greenwich, almost out to Deptford Creek, and a small market area. There she took us to stall selling seafood.

“This, Kyle,” she said, “Is where your father and I used to come many years ago for the best oysters anywhere in London. Fresh oysters, eaten from a wrap of newspaper with lemon and pepper, in the open air. You just can’t beat it.”

I’ve always been bloody suspicious of oysters. They look pretty yucky and from what I have read the bacteria in them can kill you. I mean, they sit at the bottom of the sea and rivers filter feeding from all the detritus floating by and concentrating it.  Give you a nasty dose of the shits anyway, even if they don’t kill you. Both Lee and Shane appeared to be sharing my reservations as they watched the stall-holder scooping oysters out from a bubbling pot of cloudy water and dropping them into cones made from rolled newspaper. Well, I guess if they are boiled long enough it will kill the bacteria on the oyster shells, but maybe they should boil the newspaper too.

Mr Masters grabbed a couple of shucking knives from the counter and picked up some of the cones, and Mrs Masters grabbed the rest before leading us over to an area with some tables and chairs set out. Kyle followed their example and began to open up the shells and scoop out the oysters. He actually seemed to be enjoying them.

“Aren’t you boys hungry?” asked Mrs Masters, grinning at me, Lee and Shane. “You were giving the impression of being starved to death just ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t think the grease monkeys appreciate the finer things in life, mom,” laughed Kyle. “You not joining in either, Shane? They really are good. The Romans used to love oysters; it was one of their staple foods.”

“Didn’t the Romans die out?” ventured Lee. “I can’t recall seeing any around for a while.”

The good thing about the market was that there appeared to be loads of other food stalls. In fact, it seemed to be nothing other than food stalls.

“Err, let’s leave the posh people to their fancy food and go get ourselves something safe,” I laughed, grabbing my wallet. “I’m buying. There’s pizza over there, chips and fish there, that stall does burgers, they look like they do a good curry…”

Lee jumped up to follow me without hesitation but Shane held back, one eye on the cone of oysters in front of him and one eye on the other stalls.

“Go on, Shane,” laughed Mr Masters, “Follow Boots and Lee if you prefer. The oysters won’t go to waste…”

“Philistines!” yelled Kyle as the three of us took off like rockets to go and investigate the alternatives. We were back ten minutes later with a giant ham and mushroom pizza, three portions of fish and chips and three burgers.  All the oysters had been devoured.

The oysters, thankfully, didn’t seem to have any smell but the fish and chips, pizza and burgers did. Kyle and his mom and dad were twitching their noses and salivating. The oysters might, just might, have been quite nice, but they certainly didn’t appear to have been as filling as our lunch promised to be. I jumped up, grabbed a paper plate from the oyster stall, broke my fish in two and put half, along with some chips, on the plate and passed it to Mrs Masters. She didn’t hesitate to take it. “Help yourself to some pizza too, there’s plenty to go around.”

Within seconds Lee was sharing his fish and chips with Kyle, and Shane split his with Mr Masters, and we let them have most of the pizza too as we scoffed our burgers.

“I bumped intta Caesar yesterday, Oregon,” grinned Lee between bites of his burger. “He was telling me fish and chips are the new oysters, and they’re gonna phase out wine and bring in big kegs of shandy…”

Kyle grinned. “Oysters are an aphrodisiac, Lee. Ain’t that so mom?”

“Yeah, so they say,” I confirmed for him as Mrs masters laughed, “But projectile vomiting is one of the symptoms of oyster poisoning. You might need to be very wary tonight, Lee.”

“Thanks for the tip-off, Oregon,” laughed Lee. “Shane, will you leave the connecting door open tonight? I might want to come and use the spare bed in your room now Boots is going home.”

* * *

“If you like it here,” said Mrs Masters after we had finished our late lunch, “I can show you somewhere else that I’m sure you’ll like. Craig may already know it. Have you been to Leadenhall, Craig?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s settled then. We’ll go. It’s about halfway back to our hotel so it’s in the right direction and means we’ll be in plenty of time to get you to Waterloo for your train, Craig. Now, let’s find the Light Railway towards Bank Station.”

Mrs Masters definitely knows her way around London. Very soon after we were exiting Bank Station and stepping out into Threadneedle Street which, of course, is where the Bank of England is. I made a mental note to pop back if time permitted and case the joint ready for the next heist me and dad are planning. We could recruit a team of badgers and tunnel directly into the vaults. Instead of taking us down Threadneedle Street, Mr and Mrs Masters led off down a street called Cornhill.

“What’s at Leadenhall, Boots?” asked Shane.

“No idea, Shandy-pandy,” I said.

“Some Roman remains,” said Mrs Masters, glancing back over her shoulder. “A bit of crumbled Roman wall, a few old cellars, that sort of thing. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Lee and Kyle exchanged glances but said nothing even though they didn’t seem particularly enthused. Barely five minutes later we stepped out of a narrow passageway between two modern office blocks and Mrs Masters ushered us quickly into a more open space.

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs Masters in mock disappointment. “The hairdresser’s store where we would have to go to get access down to the Roman remains is closed. We’ll have to make do with Leadenhall Market instead.”

“Wow!” said Shane, gazing up and in at the covered alleyways opening up before us, resplendent in their cream and red paint, soaring columns and glazed roof. “This looks like Diagon Alley.”

“It is,” smiled Mr Masters. “It was filmed here. See that optician’s store over there? That’s really the Leaky Cauldron. On magic days of course, when the Muggles aren’t around.”

“Quite a few things have been filmed here in addition to Harry Potter,” said Mrs Masters, leading us in. “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy…”

It did look a pretty amazing place. Lots of cafes, small boutique shops, bars and restaurants. One place even had a little plaque on the wall claiming to be where Scrooge sent a passing boy to fetch him a prize turkey and have it delivered to the Cratchits for Christmas diner. Yeah, right…

“Why don’t you boys run along and explore for an hour or so, then meet the two of us back here at this café for a cup of tea and a cake?” said Mr Masters. “After that, unfortunately, it’ll be time to take Craig back to the hotel and then Waterloo to catch his train.”

Kyle and Lee headed off in one direction, towards the nearest pub I guessed, and me and Shane wandered down the main alley and then into a narrower side alley. It really did seem as though Hagrid and Harry Potter might pop out of one of the shops nearby any time.

“Boots,” said Shane as we passed one of the shops, “They have some coats in there like the one you used to wear sometimes. The one you said was a country coat.”

“That’s my Barbour jacket, Shandy-pandy. Ace for going out clay pigeon shooting in. Do you want to go inside and look at them?”

“Yeah, that’d be good, I like your jacket. I think I can probably afford one if they have my size. I’ve hardly spent any of my allowance and Kyle does keep telling me I should treat myself occasionally.”

* * *

We had a good look round Leadenhall market and then made our way back to the café, grabbing a table outside in the alleyway so we could keep an eye out for the others arriving. We were quickly joined by Kyle and Shane.

“Hi, Boots, who’s your new friend?” laughed Kyle as he saw Shane sitting beside me wearing his new coat, “Did you bring some lord or other along?”

Shane beamed and replied, “Do you like it, Kyle? I bought a cap too, it’s in the bag with my old coat.”

“You look very smart, Shane. If we can sort the accent out we might be able to pass you off as English.”

“I’ll order a cup of tea instead of coffee when Ed and Mary get here,” laughed Shane. “Boots, what’s the most English cake I can order?”

“Oh, you definitely need scones topped with cream and jam to go with your pot of afternoon tea, Shane.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Mrs Masters as both she and Mr Masters crept up behind us. “I think we’ll order a proper English cream tea for everyone. Any objections?”

“Grab a seat, mom,” said Kyle. “I’ll go and order the cream teas. Boots, come with me and make sure I get the right stuff.”

I followed Kyle into the café while Shane showed off his new coat and cap to Mr and Mrs Masters. As we queued waiting to be served - or ‘stood in line’ as Kyle calls it – Kyle seemed particularly happy.

“I’m glad you could come and join us for a few days, Boots. It means a lot to Shane and it’s good seeing him come out of his shell more. Just getting him to feel comfortable about spending his allowance is a good achievement. Nat’s doing his bit too, making Shane a part of the golf club he’s setting up. Having a bit of responsibility for a budget and organising things for the visiting teams will be good for him.” Kyle paused, then continued.

“I know you left Allegheny a bit abruptly, and weren’t really happy about it, Boots, but I think it’s all worked out for the best on the whole, don’t you? All the guys in the dorm need a bit of extra support in some way or other, and Nat will have his hands full steering them through their freshman year. It’s a big culture shock to them and that’s on top of their own issues. Nat can get on with doing his utmost for them better without you there. I know that sounds harsh, and it’s probably unfair on you, but sometimes that’s the way life is. I think it’s amazing too that you are still helping them via the internet lectures and stuff you do for their military training. You’re a great guy Boots, I’m just sorry it had to be like this.”

Unfair? Sorry? Amazing?

I don’t think Kyle knows just how close he came to wearing the cream scones and pots of hot tea that he just put on the trays in front of us. In fact, he should think himself lucky that he’s not flat on his back on the floor right now with my fist-print on his smug face. Yeah, he’s older than me, and a quarterback, but he’s not much bigger, and definitely not fitter. If I can give Jackson a bloody nose, I can certainly put Kyle down. He won’t jump back up either. No resilience. He’s not a boxer. People always talk about the ability of a boxer to dish out punishment. Boxers talk about the ability to absorb it. I can take way more than Kyle can. He doesn’t have what it takes to do serious harm to me unless he gets lucky, but I can systematically demolish him.

Except I’m not going to hit him, of course. It’s not just that I don’t fight outside the ring. Not unless I have to. I don’t start fights outside the ring might be a better way of putting it, but that’s not why I’m not hitting Kyle. It’s not because there’s no malice in what he’s saying. It’s not because he’s Shane’s cousin either. Or because Mr and Mrs Masters have been so nice to me.

It’s because he’s saying what my dad said. What we discussed when he came to Allegheny. What I more or less agreed with. That maybe me and Nathan weren’t suited to each other. That even if we were, it probably wouldn’t work out. I didn’t feel the same way about Nathan as I did about Shane. Liking Shane was so easy. That smile of his. His good nature. The way he was, just, well Shane. Even when I misread him, Shane was still Shane. So nice about it. Still wanting to be friends. I think me and Shane always will be friends. I think if Shane had been gay, if he did like me the same way, it would have been okay. I think there wouldn’t have been a problem with me staying at Allegheny. Maybe they might have split us into different dorms, but that’s probably about it. Dad liked Shane.

I’m not saying dad doesn’t like Nathan. Or that I didn’t like Nathan at first. It’s just that Nathan is so different. Not just different from Shane. Different from me. Different from everyone I know. He’s only a year older than me, but he’s got the confidence of somebody twice his age. He doesn’t defer to Kyle or Jackson or anybody. Well, except maybe his parents and even then he seems to have his own terms about that. He does just about what he wants. He lives in a different world from me. It wasn’t that though that was the main thing behind dad’s thinking when we discussed what I should do. It wasn’t that I wasn’t sure about Nathan either. I knew I liked Shane. But with Nathan it was different. He told me that he liked me. That day on his boat. Kind of just seemed to expect me to like him too and that was it. What was it Elizabeth had said? Something about me just being his puppy? That I’d fetch a stick for him if he threw one?

Dad seemed to be hinting at the same thing. That maybe I was just infatuated with Nathan. On the rebound from Shane. Did I really know how I felt about Nathan? Dad was about right there. I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about Nathan, but he seemed sure about me. But it was Nathan I liked. Not his Mustang. Not his money. Not his T shirt or tuxedo. Nathan. Whoever he is. I was growing to like him. I wanted to stay at Allegheny. To get to know Nathan better. To see if we could be good for each other.  That’s where dad saw the problems beginning. Pointed out that Nathan had responsibilities in the dorm. That he was my senior. That we’d have to be split up so that there could be no question of Nathan exerting influence on me. That didn’t have to be a problem. I could have gone to a different freshman dorm. The Commandant even suggested it wasn’t out of the question for me to be pushed up a year, made a sophomore. My academic grades were up to it.

Where dad really struck home though was when he said I needed to think about what effect me and Nathan might have on the other guys in the dorm. My new friends. Asked if was fair for me to occupy more of Nathan’s attention than they would. Hinted that they needed more of his attention than I did. And that it was important too for Nathan not to be distracted. That he be free to be the dorm senior. To continue shining. To get more notice. To stand the best possible chance of being the Cadet Captain in due course. His future possibly hinged on it. Me distracting him might jeopardise that. Especially if I got bumped up a year too. Was granted a scholarship to stay at Allegheny for more than just the planned year. If I was in direct competition with him. Maybe I’d spoil his chances as well as those of the guys in the dorm. Dad didn’t tell me what I should do. Didn’t tell me he was going to withdraw me from school regardless of what I wanted. Just laid out all the facts and options. Talked them over with me. We talked for several hours that morning, but dad let me make up my own mind.

Let me make up my own mind because he knew what I would decide. That I would do the right thing.

“Boots?”

“Boots? Are you just going to stand there gazing or are you going to pick up the tray and take it outside? I see what Nat means when he says that sometimes the shutters just come down and you disappear into your own little world.”

Kyle’s smiling. That same smile he shares with Shane. The one that means I can’t possibly punch him.

“Sorry Kyle, I was just thinking…”

Kyle chuckled. “That thought must be worth a cure for cancer at least. Come on Boots, grab a tray, before Lee starves.”

* * *

It had already gone dark by the time we left Leadenhall Market and took the tube back to the hotel so I could pick up my bag and head off to the station. I was going to walk to Waterloo, it’d take less than 30 minutes from the hotel and some exercise would do me good. Mr and Mrs Masters wouldn’t hear of me walking to Waterloo though and insisted they should take me there in a taxi. “We promised your dad to look after you, Boots, we need to see you safely to your train.”

In the end we compromised: Kyle, Lee and Shane would all walk to the station with me. All three of them were eager for one last look around with me, and as Kyle and Lee are adults it wasn’t as if I was being abandoned! Shane was eager to try out his new coat some more too, and he did look pretty hot as he strolled along The Mall in his Barbour jacket and flat cap. Shane and I soon pulled ahead of Kyle and Lee, and we both grinned as we looked back over our shoulder and saw that they were holding hands.

I kept the pace up and didn’t allow for any time photographing stuff and so we reached Waterloo station with plenty of time to spare. With it being New Year’s Day and so having only a limited train service the station wasn’t too busy. Kyle and Lee were happy enough to wander off for a while to look around, leaving me and Shane to sit down at a table outside one of the few open cafes and wait until my train was ready to board.

“You need to try one of these, Shane,” I said, dropping into a chair beside him after visiting the pasty stall to stock up on rations for my journey home. “It’s a Cornish pasty. It’s kind of like a pie but better. See this length of twisty crust running down the spine of it? That’s to hold it with while you eat the main bit.”

Shane looked at the steak and onion pasty I had just handed him. “It’s an odd shape for a pie, Boots. Kind of like a half moon with a backbone. It smells good though.”

“They were invented for the miners who worked in the tin mines, Shane. They used to take them down the mines for their lunch. There’s lots of arsenic in the tin ores and that would get on the miner’s hands, along with all the other dirt. So, they used to hold the pasty by that crusty backbone bit and then throw that piece away so they didn’t eat any arsenic. Brilliant idea, huh?”

“It tastes good, Boots!”

“Best thing is, Shane, because we have clean hands, we can eat the whole bloody thing! I’ve got an extra one for my journey.”

Shane smiled as he tucked eagerly into his pasty. “I think I might buy a couple too, Boots, take them back to the hotel for Ed and Mary.”

“You should have a word with Nat and the chef at the golf course too, Shane. Get them to make some up for when you host teams to play you at golf. If you store them in an insulated box you can have them as a snack when you get halfway round the golf course. Of course, you’ll need to apply to the Duke of Cornwall for an export licence but I guess Ed and Mary can help out with that. We don’t want you getting locked up in the Tower of London for illicit pasty smuggling.”

Shane smiled as I laughed.

“You seem happier now, Boots. You looked a bit sad earlier when we were having our cream tea at Diagon Alley. You were dead quiet.”

“No, I’m okay, Shane. Well, maybe I was a little bit sad. But that’s because it’s the end of a few great days with you here in London. And actually, something Kyle said has helped me make up my mind about something else too.  Things are good, Shane.”