This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all message.
Jonathan 17 February 13-16 2009
Malcolm was the first to wake the next morning. Like many retired men he retained the habits of a lifetime and began the day early, shortly after 6.00am. He looked in on Jonathan who was sleeping soundly.
He had breakfast, and read the newspaper, a habit acquired since retirement! He checked his computer for emails. As he had hoped, there was a reply from Kevin in New Zealand.
Hi Dad,
Thanks for the news of young Jonathan. We were very pleased that he is staying with you, especially after all he has been through. What a thing to happen to him! The imprisonment in that cell sounds awful. I do hope it has not psychologically damaged him. A person in his situation has such a variety of emotions; there's the guilt and shame, but that's battling with those occasions of pleasure, and the camaraderie with those working alongside him. I am sure a healthy youngster like him, aided by your love and wise counsel, will be able to sort him out.
Does he know about you? If he doesn't already know, will you tell him?
Owen joins me in sending our love to Jonathan and you.
Love Kev.
Malcolm read this a couple of times, and then hearing movement upstairs, he quickly deleted the message as he needed to think carefully about the question Kevin had raised. It had been at the back of his mind, but the day before he had been so taken up with Jonathan's story that he had not given any further thought about coming out to his grandson himself.
It was ten o'clock when a still bleary-eyed Jonathan appeared downstairs.
"What time do you call this, young man. I've been up and slaving away for hours."
"Looks like it." Jonathan nodded towards the obviously fully read paper and the almost completed crossword, and the debris of breakfast still on the table.
"Did you sleep well, Jon?"
He had slept well. He said he wanted a light breakfast, and sat down at the table in the kitchen to eat some cereals and toast and marmalade, all washed down with a mug of milky sweet coffee.
Malcolm was elsewhere in the house when the garden door opened and Simon entered. There was a look of surprise on both their faces. Both had to do a quick consultation of their mental files as they recognised, but could not immediately place each other.
Simon got there first. "You're Jonathan, Mal's grandson aren't you? You read a lesson at Janice's funeral?"
"That's right. I recognise you, but I've have forgotten your name."
"I'm Simon. Is your grandfather around?"
Jonathan got up and opened the door into the rest of the house, "Gramps, Simon here to see you."
Half a minute later Malcolm came into the room.
"Hi Simon, I was wondering whether you'd call round."
This was one of those, `where do we start' situations. Simon had heard of Jonathan's disappearance, shared Malcolm's worry over the previous six months, and knew the reason why Jonathan had left home. There was a moment's awkward silence.
"I came round yesterday and was surprised not to find you in. You hadn't said you'd be out for the day."
"I didn't know myself until late the previous evening. I had to go and meet this young man. He's going to be staying with me for a while. Would you like a coffee?"
By this time Jonathan had finished his breakfast, he rose from the table and muttered something about needing make his bed, and left the room.
Malcolm and Simon had a quick hug.
"What's happened, Mal?"
"It's a long story. He's been through a lot, some of it really grim."
"He looks well enough. He's certainly a sexy young man. You said he was gay. I wouldn't mind a session or two with him."
"You're just a horny old queen. I think his presence here is likely to curtail our activities, certainly in the short term. I think he's going to take up a lot of my time for the next couple of weeks. There are a number of big issues he needs to think through very carefully. I want to try and help him, and to see that he doesn't make some foolish hasty decision."
"I was hoping we could get in a round of golf tomorrow morning if the weather's fine."
"That sounds a good idea. Jon is just starting to play the game. It'd do him good to get out."
"Bring him along, and I can lose a ball, and he can come into the bushes to help me look for it!"
"No way! I shall be keeping a strict eye on you, Si."
They both laughed. Malcolm called upstairs to Jonathan, and asked him about playing golf the next day. It was all arranged.
"I had hoped for something else as well this morning."
"That would've been good, but as you see it is out of the question here," answered Malcolm.
Malcolm needed to do some extra shopping and Jonathan walked with him into the village.
"I'm dreading telling Mum and Dad about what has happened. I think they need to know, but I fear they will regard it as all my fault. I shouldn't have run off. I should've held out in the cell. I should've persisted in saying no."
"Jon, they weren't there. They've never been in anything like a similar situation. I think your Dad will take a lot of the blame for you running off on himself."
"Maybe. But with their religion everything is so black and white. What I've been doing over the last six months is very, very black. I fear that once I start, the condemnation will just pour out of them."
"They do love you, Jon. Very much."
"But will they when they learn that I've been working as a sex worker for the last six months?"
"I agree they will be put in a difficult position. They love you, yet they will see what you were doing as totally wrong."
"But Gramps, you go to church. You haven't said a word telling me how terribly sinful I've been. You've listened, and I think you've understood."
"I'm older than they are, perhaps a little wiser, certainly more tolerant. I'm unhappy about what you've been doing because of its long term effects on you. If I'd gone off at the deep end with you yesterday, what would you have done?"
"Run a mile," said Jonathan with a laugh.
"Exactly. I am concerned about your long term future, not your immediate past. You didn't leave home and say to yourself, `I'm going to be a sex worker', did you? You were forced into it. You may have enjoyed some of it, maybe even quite a lot of it; that's because you are a young man with a high sex drive. If you'd been straight and it was with the lasses, you'd have found enjoyment in at least some it. Then there was the companionship with the Boys, as you call them."
"Thanks, Gramps, but I am still dreading putting into actual words what I've been doing. Dad'll understand, and probably blow his top again, Mum won't understand at all. She probably doesn't know what a sex worker is. Male prostitution is right outside her ken."
"You're right in seeing this as something to be done. And probably sooner rather than later. The prospect gets worse the longer we postpone doing such difficult things."
The rest of the day was spent at Malcolm's home. Jonathan increasingly relaxed as the day went on. He now had greater confidence in telling his grandfather what had happened. He told him about some of the more amusing incidents, and the fun with the Boys. He explained to him the nature of the relationship with Chink. He told him of his respect and the help he had received from Andy. He told him Ron's story.
Malcolm listened, believing that getting Jonathan to talk was therapeutic.
At one stage he asked. "Jon, do you need a health check, with the threat of AIDS and other STDs?"
"We had a health check every week. A doc came and examined us all carefully, and took a blood sample for testing. I would need to have another test in three or four months time to know that I was completely in the clear. We were a surprisingly healthy lot. There was one case of the crabs, but otherwise we were fine. I think most of the punters came just to the club, and didn't go cruising, or cottaging or even to saunas. Those things were far too risky for them."
It was in the middle of the evening when they were sitting together on the sofa watching television. "Jon, I've had a thought. What do you say to me going over to see your parents and me telling them your story? They can react and will be prepared for meeting you. They will want to hear it all from you, from the horse's mouth, as it were. But hearing it first from me will prepare them. What do you think?"
"Gramps, I can't let you do that."
"Why not? They can't get angry with me. If the worse comes to the worse they can be angry with me for taking you in."
"If they get angry over that, will you throw me out?"
"Of course not. This can be your home for as long as it takes. No way will I throw you out; unless you start beating up your poor old grandfather."
"That's an idea." Jonathan turned and started tickling Malcolm.
"Stop it. You haven't done that since you were a small child. Now stop it."
They both laughed.
"You're making me feel younger," said Malcolm.
"Down to the nineties?"
"I'll give you down to the nineties. Seriously, what do you think?"
"I think that would be wonderful. They will then know what is coming when I tell them, if they want to hear it all again."
"Shall I go and ring them now, and suggest I go over tomorrow evening?"
Malcolm went and phoned. Michael and Lois were eager to know what had happened that day. Malcolm rather tantalisingly gave a full and rather mundane account of the day, before asking if they would be in tomorrow evening. He said he would come to collect some things of Jonathan's, and tell them how things were going. So it was fixed.
Malcolm left for Luton shortly after he and Jonathan had eaten their main meal. Jonathan set about clearing up after the meal, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He spent the whole evening on tenterhooks, wondering how things were going at his home in Luton.
Malcolm was greeted as usual with delight by Abigail and Thomas. Abigail was now a young teenager of thirteen and Thomas ten. They asked after Jonathan.
"He is doing well, and looking forward to seeing both of you."
"I'm looking forward to seeing him," said Thomas solemnly, "Even though he is a pain in the butt when he's around." This brought a disapproving look from Lois.
Jonathan had drawn up a list of things he would like Malcolm to bring back with him. They were mostly clothes, but also consisted of his mobile phone and computer. It did not take long for these to be collected and loaded into the car. Abigail and Thomas were sent to do homework, or in Thomas' case to go to his room and read. It was explained that Michael and Lois had some serious talking to do with their grandfather. This brought a protest from Thomas, and a shrug of grudging acceptance from Abigail.
The three adults adjourned to the lounge with a cup of coffee.
Malcolm started. "Jonathan is rather dreading telling you face to face the events of the last six months so I have volunteered to tell you his story. That will mean that when you see him you will know, and he can either fill in some of the details or whatever you want. In fact, he is fearful you might not want to see him again."
"Is it that bad?" asked Lois, putting a hand to her mouth.
"It is not a pleasant story. Let me tell you it briefly, and then you can ask about any of the details that you do not understand."
The two of them nodded.
"As you know, on that evening in August Jon climbed out of his bedroom and down the garage roof. He went to the station and there caught a train to King's Cross. When he arrived there his eye was hurting and puffing up, but he was feeling in need of a drink and a bite to eat before looking for somewhere to spend the night. He was just going into the main line station when a man approached him. He could see that Jon had a black eye. He asked if he was in trouble, and whether the eye was caused by a street fight or domestic. Jon said it was domestic. He said he was looking for somewhere for the night. The man said that he had a spare bed. Jon took up the offer. He was very grateful to this man, Keith. In the morning his eye was looking very bad. Keith said he might find difficulty finding somewhere to stay, and definitely would find difficulty in getting a job with a black eye. He said Jon could stay. Now you will probably not be surprised to learn that this man was gay, and yes, you can guess what happened."
"How did this Keith know that Jon might be like that?" asked Lois.
"There is something called gaydar. Apparently it is a sort of way homosexuals have of recognising each other. Sometimes there are little evidences, a limp wrist, a manner of speech, but often it seems to be pure intuition. Jon stayed with Keith while his eye healed."
"It's all my fault," said Michael, "I shouldn't have hit him."
"We've got to make sure that what happened does not permanently damage Jon. He is a surprisingly tough young man. He has matured a lot in these few months."
"Why didn't he phone us?"
"His lasting regret is that he didn't phone in those few days. He was fearful of you sending him off to be cured of his homosexuality. Your hitting him, Michael, shook him in more ways than the obvious one. He was, and still is, in someway uncertain about how you will regard him."
Lois sobbed, "Poor Jon, my poor dear Jonny."
"The story goes on. Keith and Jon were invited down to a farm in the Weald somewhere. It was a sort of weekend house party."
"I can guess. A gay one?" said Michael.
Malcolm nodded. "I think in all that happened Jon was a very inexperienced young man in the ways of the world. His upbringing has been sheltered. He has had a secure loving family. His schools have had little or no discipline problems. He has done well, been looked up to. His church and his school life is where he has found most of his friends. Has he had any friends from the tougher parts of Luton? He has known little of the ways of the world."
"So he went on this weekend houseparty?"
"Yes. One of the men there was a very successful solicitor from a midland town."
"A solicitor?"
"Oh yes, a solicitor. It was decided that Jon should not travel back to London with Keith, but with Bill the owner of the farm. Jonathan was drugged just before he left the farm, and came to somewhere else, Bill's home. Bill offered him a job. Bill has a number of business interests. One is a gentlemen's club somewhere around the West End. Outwardly it is very respectable, but there is a part of it, that can only be described as a male brothel."
"Oh no," said Lois, tears now forming in her eyes.
"Did he accept?" asked Michael.
"Not initially. He was given twenty four hours to think it over. He was put in a small windowless room, with light on twenty-four hour a day, and a CCTV camera watching him. When he said no' the next day he was taken back to the cell' as he calls it, and forcibly stripped stark naked. They deliberately confused him over time, by giving him irregular meals, and giving him things like four or five breakfast type meals running. He totally lost any account of time. There were two guards, one brute of a fellow, who enjoyed physically abusing Jonathan. At times he was taken to another room, and strung up and beaten with various implements. Often his own belt was applied to him. Remember in all this he was totally naked. The other was different, not quite so violent, kinder in some ways, more considerate."
As Malcolm narrated the story a look of utter horror spread over the faces of Michael and Lois. This too was something totally outside their experience of life in England.
"It is now I think that we see Jon's sheltered upbringing. He should have seen more telly. He would have known that one of the techniques for breaking down prisoners is for one guard to play the nice' gay, and the other to play the bad' guy. After a time Bill apparently gave the word that the two guards could have their sexual way with him. The nice guy was considerate, allowed him to prepare himself."
"What do you mean?" asked Lois.
"If something is going to be pushed up your rectum it helps if it has been lubricated. This guy was gentle and considerate. Later the other guy had his way, but Jonathan says he was lucky, as though the man was big his endowment was small."
That expression had to be explained to Lois.
"So it went on. Jonathan saw no way out. He thought if he held out he might be done in. So he eventually said `Yes'."
"How long had all that gone on?" asked Michael.
"Three weeks."
"Three weeks, that doesn't seem very long."
"No one had ever held out that long. Jon holds the record. I think Bill has a soft spot for Jon. He congratulated him for holding out so long. He was to show Jon several acts of kindness. So Jon went and started working at Bill's Place."
"How sordid!" said Michael.
"I'm not sure that is the best word. There was a group of some twelve to fifteen lads. They called themselves the Boys, who worked there. They were very well fed. They were examined by a doctor and blood tested every week. They were well paid, they earned something in the region of a grand a month. Bill started paying Jon a small weekly wage when he went down into the cell, he got paid so much for each client – or punter – as he calls them, and then there were tips. Often very generous tips."
"A lot of money involved."
"These clients were top people from every section of London life, press men, financiers from the City, lawyers, barristers, solicitors, and even a high court judge. There were MPs and Lords, footballers. In any profession, if you had the money, you could be a member of Bill's Club. (Malcolm wisely left out the ecclesiastical punters) They were men of all ages, one or two of the footballers younger than Jon, to an old man well into his eighties."
"I had no idea that this sort of thing went on," said Lois.
"I suppose at the back of my mind there was the realisation that something like it might go on somewhere, France or Thailand," said Michael.
Malcolm smiled. "Quite a high percentage of the punters were married."
"Married?" said Michael and Lois in unison.
"Yes married."
"How come?"
"I think that'd be better gone into another time, that is not essential to Jonathan's story."
"The man, the man who phoned us several times. Was he one of those?"
"Yes. He was very understanding. He'd worked for Bill and used his accumulated earnings to set up in his own business, and has done well. Well enough to be able to pay for the services of Bill's club. Bill kept the Boys in strict conditions, certainly to begin with. When he felt he could trust them they were allowed out. Two or three times Jonathan was taken down to the farm for an event there. Bill allowed Jonathan to go out walking, because he realised he both liked doing it, and it was something about which Jon felt most deprived. But before Jon went out Bill extracted a two fold promise, no running off, and no attempt to phone you. Jon felt honour bound to keep his promise. You will be interested to know that Jon managed to go to a midnight communion service on Christmas Eve."
"That man phoned on Christmas Eve evening, I remember," said Lois.
"That was the only way open for Jon to say something to you."
There was a pause while Lois and Michael thought over all that they had heard.
"What happened the other day that Jon was suddenly able to make contact again?"
"There's a rear door to the premises. It is always locked, and when opened always someone on guard. That afternoon the door was open as something was being taken away or delivered, and there was no guard. The coast was clear and Jonathan ran."
"Did he have any money?"
"Just twenty-five pound in tips from that morning's work."
"Not much for London. So he rang you?"
"Not straight away. He went into a coffee bar, and an Anglican woman priest came in and sat alongside him. She took him back to her flat, and she and her husband gave him a meal, and she talked to him. I think we owe a lot to her that Jon rang me. The rest you know."
Malcolm sat back and looked at Michael and Lois.
"That's Jon's story in brief. There is a lot more. The fact that he got messages out to you I think shows that he wants to be reconciled. I think you can understand his hesitation about telling you all of it face to face."
"He needs to go somewhere where his problems can be dealt with. Pastor Willis says the best places are in the States, where Bob Fox is at the moment. He is getting seen to."
"I'm not sure that Jon will consent to being sent to the States," said Malcolm quietly.
"It's not a question of his consent. He'll have to do as he is told."
"I think you're forgetting Michael that your elder son had a significant birthday last summer. He's now eighteen. I don't think you can make him do anything. He's now an adult."
"Surely he wants to be free of this whole gay thing?"
"I don't think he does. I don't think the bad experiences of that cell, and at Bill's Club have changed him in that respect. I think, Michael, you have got to reconcile yourself to the fact that your eldest son in gay."
"I'm not sure about that. It is all an abomination in the sight of the Lord. He needs to come to repentance, and seek forgiveness and healing."
"Michael, dear, I know that you didn't approve," said Lois, "but as you know since we discovered about Jon I have been finding out a little more about this condition. I believe it is now reckoned something like four percent of the population are gay. That means that there are something like four times more homosexuals than there are Jews. As I have heard Pop tell us what has been happening to Jon there is a part of me that is horrified, disgusted; but there is another part of me that want to put my arms round him and hug him."
Michael looked at Lois with shocked amazement. "But it is an abomination."
"Perhaps, Michael, you have come to the place where you have to choose between your religion and your elder son," said Malcolm.
"Michael, what would you do if Jon walked into the room now? Would you carry on condemning or accept the fact that he is as he is?" asked Lois.
Michael lent forward and buried his head in his hands.
Lois put her arms round Michael. "He is bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh. At the end of the day blood is thicker than water."
"But the word of God."
"I don't think the word of God wants us to cut off our son. Jon will always know that we do not approve, but he is our son." Lois turned to Malcolm. "Pop, I want to see Jon as soon as possible."
"Lois, I forbid you."
"Michael, on this matter I'm not going to obey you. Jon is my son, and whatever he has done, I still love him." She paused. "I rather think that if he'd committed a bank robbery, or murdered someone, your attitude to him would not be so hostile."
Michael again buried his head in his hands. He sat there with Lois' arm still round him, while Malcolm looked on. After what seemed an age Michael looked up.
"I think you may be right. He could have done far worse things. I need to see him to ask his forgiveness for punching him. It was my act that sent him off, and into all this."
The atmosphere in the room immediately relaxed. Malcolm said that he needed to consult Jon about when he felt prepared to meet his parents.
When the time came for him to go Lois put her arms round her father-in-law. "Thank you, Pop, for everything. For getting Jon back, for not being judgmental. When you get back give Jon a hug from me."
Michael gave his father a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad." But he was still thinking everything through.
Jonathan spent a restless evening. He was unable to settle at anything. The television seemed trivial, and a book could not keep his attention. He kept looking at the clock, his watch was still somewhere at Bill's place. He walked round the house, made himself a coffee he did not need. The time seemed to drag; he once wondered if the clock had stopped. There was a grandfather clock in the hall. It struck the quarters, but for Jonathan the quarters seemed like hours.
At long last, just after ten o'clock Jonathan heard a car draw up outside. He jumped up and met Malcolm as he came in.
"How did it go, Gramps?"
"Quite well, considering. I've got your things, help me bring them in."
Jonathan was itching to know more, but knew that his grandfather would not say much more until the car was unloaded and put away in the garage.
"I need a drink. A stiff drink. I think a whisky after that. You get one for me, and get yourself whatever you want, while I put the car away."
Jonathan knew how his grandfather liked his whisky, and he poured himself one too, but with more water than his grandfather took.
Jonathan handed Malcolm the glass of whisky when he entered the sitting room.
They sat down on the sofa, and Malcolm took a couple of sips of his whisky.
"So how did you get on? Any phone calls? Or callers?"
"No, it was all quiet on the Western Front. But I was like a cat on hot bricks wondering how you were getting on."
Malcolm decided to be his most obtuse. He described the route he took to Luton and the heaviness of the traffic. Jonathan knew that his grandfather could be like this, and that any attempt to hurry him on would be counterproductive. At long last Malcolm got to the matters that Jonathan wanted to hear.
"I told them your story, much as you had told it to me. Naturally they were both horrified at what you'd been up to. I think they both felt for you in Bill's cell. I think Michael felt you should have held out longer, until I told him you had made a new record for endurance in the cell. There were one or two things that had to be explained to Lois.
"Such as?"
"I said the first gaoler who had you sexually allowed you to prepare yourself, that needed to be explained. When I said that the endowment of the second guy was small, that too needed to be explained to your Mum."
"Poor Mum!"
"But she has done some reading to find out about homosexuality, somewhat to your father's disapproval. She said there were four times more homosexuals in the community than there were Jews."
"I didn't know that!"
"Your Dad was still talking about sending you over to the States to be cured; but I pointed out you were now eighteen and as an adult could not be forced."
"Thanks, Gramps." Jonathan gave his grandfather a hug. "What happens now?"
"They'd like to see you."
"Really, knowing all that? Even Dad?"
"Your Mum said she was going to see you even if it meant disobeying your father."
"Did she? Obedience of wives to husbands is strictly laid down by Pastor Willis."
"Your Dad was more hesitant. I think that what really persuaded him was when your Mum said he would have accepted your committing a murder or breaking into a bank more readily than what did happen. Yes, they both want to see you."
"When?"
"I think sooner rather than later, Jon. Shall I ring to suggest tomorrow evening out here?"
"Why here?"
"Abigail and Thomas won't be around."
"See your point."
Malcolm got up and went off to phone. Jonathan saw that there was no point in delaying the meeting. He still had a lot of apprehension about coming face to face with his parents.
"I think I'm off to bed," said Malcolm when he came back into the room.
"I'll see if I can get my computer up and running. I don't suppose you found out anything about Bob Fox."
"Oh yes, in passing they mentioned he was in the States being cured."
"Poor chap!"
Jonathan quickly got his computer wired up and connected. Everything seemed to be working well, in spite of the six month interval since it was last used.
He checked his Emails. There was nothing of any consequence, and certainly nothing from Bob Fox.
He found Kevin's email address.
Dear Kev, It is six months since I typed anything, so please forgive any mistakes. I believe Gramps has told you my news. Parts of it were grim, to say the least, especially the time spent in the cell. Three weeks. I came out of that with a lot of bruises. They were careful not to cut my skin with the cane or strap, (didn't want to mar my beauty?) They took some days to disappear. I was fortunate to escape when I did; it was the first chance in the whole of my time at the club. Gramps has been over to Luton to see my folks and tell them the story. I am expecting to meet them tomorrow evening. Gramps doing the initial telling means that they know the gist of the story, but Dad has such fixed bigoted ideas I am rather dreading tomorrow evening. The trouble is there are parts of what went on that I really enjoyed. I mean the sex. Some of the punters were nasty pieces of work, but the majority were fine, and some really nice guys. There is a part of me that feels guilty that I enjoyed some of the time at the club. Any advice? Gramps has been great. So understanding and non- judgmental. Hope you and Owen are fine. It would be great if I could have a real long chat with you both. You are the only person I am in contact with who I feel really understands what it means to be gay. Lots of love Jon XX
It was seven o'clock on the Sunday evening when Jonathan was seated in the sitting room, there was the sound of a car drawing up outside. Malcolm got up to go to the door. Jonathan heard voices, and then in walked his mother closely followed by his father. Jonathan jumped to his feet, he rushed across to his mother's open arms. They stood there hugging each other.
Michael hesitated for the briefest of moments before he put his arms round both of them.
"I'll get some coffee," said Malcolm softly backing out of the room with a relieved expression on his face. When he came back Jonathan and Lois were sitting together on the sofa. Michael sat in the nearest arm chair, and had just finishing apologising for the black eye he had given Jonathan in the summer.
"Dad, I reckon I was pretty provocative. That's all in the past; you haven't marred my beauty. No permanent damage was done."
"But if I'd not hit you all those terrible things would not have happened."
"Probably not. But what happened has happened. It is now a question of moving on from all that."
"Jon, what do you think about going to the States and getting cured of all this homosexual thing. Bob is over there at the moment."
"Dad, I know from what has happened, in spite of what has happened, I am gay. I don't want to be healed."
"Don't you want to be like the majority? Wouldn't you like to get married and have a family?"
"Dad, please," said Jonathan softly but firmly. "This is where we fell out in the summer. I know what I am, and I don't want to be altered."
"But after all those horrible men," said Lois.
"Mum, they were not a lot of horrible men. I agree some were nicer than others. They were the sort of men you would be happy to have round for dinner. I am now on speaking terms with a high court judge, three MPs, several managing directors, as well as couple of Premier Division football players, and some exceedingly wealthy Middle Eastern businessmen. If you invited them round for dinner quite a number of them would come with their wives."
"That is something I just cannot understand," said Michael.
"Well, it's so. I sometimes wondered if someone I knew, one of your friends, Dad, would come into Bill's place."
"I am sure I don't know any homosexuals."
"I just wouldn't be so sure," said Jonathan with a grin.
"Are you going to sue this Bill chap for wrongful imprisonment and so on?"
"I'm thinking about that. I have got to think very carefully about all that. There are so many things involved."
Malcolm looked at Jonathan; though this was a matter that had been in his own mind, he had not discussed it with Jonathan. Again he was impressed with the way his grandson had developed over the last few months.
Jonathan answered several other questions from his parents before he asked one. "What do Abi and Thomas know? When can I see them?"
"We had to explain to them," said Lois.
"And that was no easy task," added Michael. "They know why you left. We've told them you are here now. We haven't told them what you've been doing. I think they're both too young to hear that."
"I agree," said Jonathan, "I can always say I was doing some secret work. Which is true in a way."
"Why don't you come over for a meal tomorrow? We'll let it be a surprise," said Lois.
So it was arranged.
The next afternoon Jonathan borrowed his grandfather's car and drove over to Luton. He arrived before Abigail and Thomas arrived home from school. He sat in the kitchen talking to his mother for a while.
"Do you want to come back here, Jon?"
"I am not sure. I must say I rather like it at Gramps'. I would always feel I was living under the rather hostile eyes of Dad."
"What does your Gramps say to you living with him?"
"I don't know. We've not discussed it. A lot of our talk has been about what has happened, and so on."
"You've changed a lot. Strangely enough you've grown up a lot. You are more independent, more your own man. These months have marked your leaving home. You are always, and always will be welcome, but I think you are right. You need to find your own feet now, and Gramps' will give you somewhere where you think over how you want to go on."
"Thanks, Mum."
"Only don't break contact. We love you, Jon. Yes, your Dad really loves you and wants the best for you. It is going to be very hard for him to accept that his elder son is, ... er ...a homosexual."
Jonathan got up and walked over to Lois and gave her a long hug.
"Why don't you go and meet Thomas from school. It will be a complete surprise."
Jonathan went round to the school which was a ten minute walk away. There were a few mothers who had come in cars to collect the younger children. When the avalanche of youngsters came out Jonathan spotted Thomas. His young brother didn't see him at first. When he saw Jonathan there was a whoop of delight as he ran as quickly as he could and jumped up, flinging his arms round his older brother. They walked home slowly with arms round each other. Lois saw them coming along the road, and was pleased.
Twenty minutes later Abigail arrived home. Her welcome was less demonstrative, but just as genuine. She asked Jonathan if he was coming back to live.
"I'm not sure. I am enjoying being with Gramps. And I think he's enjoying the company."
"He's been very miserable since you went off."
The evening went well. The atmosphere was slightly more difficult when Michael arrived him from work. When the younger two had gone off to do homework he asked Jonathan if he had thought any more about taking legal action against Bill. Jonathan said that he was still thinking it over.
"I really think you should, Jon. A great wrong was done to you."
"I know it was, Dad. But there are a lot of things involved. I want to think it all through very carefully. I'll let you know what I decide."
All this was said very calmly and emphatically. Jonathan was now much more his own person.
On the way back to Whitgest, Jonathan pulled into a field entrance and sat thinking. He thought over the evening, which he thought had gone well, and he began carefully weighing up the pros and cons of legal action against Bill.
Jeffrey Fletcher at jeffyrks@hotmail.com