FOR EVER AND BEYOND -  by Nigel Dean

Chapter One - Our Early Days

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.

Chapter Two - Our First Summer

And so it was that Matthew was accepted to read English at Balliol, his father commenced driving for Sureway Travel and I began preliminary research for my PhD.  Nobody was told our secret although I kind of suspected Matthew's mother had an idea that our friendship was closer than we actually showed to anyone.  I tutored Matthew, seeing him almost every day but such was his existing knowledge, such was his brilliance that he could have sailed through the examinations without doing another stroke of work.  I longed for the day of his last examination, the day he would leave school and began to make special plans to celebrate this particular rite of passage.

As soon as he left school he made his way direct to my home and she was there waiting for him.  Such beauty, such style I knew Matthew would fall in love with her the moment they met. Dressed in red she was absolute poetry in motion.

I could not wait for Matthew to arrive and to meet her, I paced impatiently outside looking for him to turn the corner and come into sight.

When he finally saw me he started to run, tearing his school tie from about his neck and ripping his blazer from his back.  When he reached me he threw them to the floor and stamped on them.

"Good bye school,"    he  exclaimed.     "I  am so happy to be rid of it !"

"Welcome to the rest of your life," I grinned.  No longer was he a schoolboy now we shared the same adult world and soon  we would be students together.

"Hey,"  Matthew said, "is this yours ?"

"No," I corrected, "she's ours."

"What ?"

"I got it for us both, to celebrate your leaving school,"  I stroked the gleaming paintwork as we talked. "Would you like to take for a drive ?"

"Now ?"

"Why not ?"

The Triumph TR7 was the number one sports car of its day, the Audi TT or BMW Mini of the time.  I had chosen it with care and gone to great lengths to have it delivered on that day.

"Come on get in."

As we drove I revealed my plan.

"But I have to work this summer,"  Matthew protested.  "I need money for Oxford."

"You'll get a grant and I have enough money for both of us."

"I can't sponge off you Noel."

"It's not sponging Matt, I love you and so what is mine is yours."

"No Noel, that wouldn't be right."

Matt turned the car to head home, parked on the driveway and turned off the engine.

"This car is fantastic, a dream but I can not live my life accepting your charity."

I tried to argue but he was stubborn.

"Money is there to bring happiness Matthew, if it is going to come between us then I would gladly give it all away."

I sincerely would have done just that had I thought it would have made any difference.  I wanted to spend the rest of my live with Matthew, young as we both were back then and as short the time we had known one another I was totally committed to it.  There had to be a way round this situation.

We talked well into the evening, I suggested giving half of everything I owned to Mathew but there was no way he would agree to that.  I proposed giving him a lump sum which would be his and he could pay for things we both wanted as and when the need occurred.  He was a little happier with that but when I suggested £10,000 he tried to cut me back to one.  We haggled and eventually settled on three.  I wrote the cheque.

"So are we now alright for Europe ?"  I asked.

I had specially got the car so we could drive into Europe for the summer.  I proposed that we cross into France, head south and via Switzerland into Italy, spending the whole summer together before returning home ready to start our new degree courses.

"If you let me pay my share,"  Matthew smiled.

I kissed him. "OK silly."

We agreed to leave in four days time.

"I'll go into town tomorrow,"  Matthew said, "buy some maps and then we can spend the evening planning a route."

"I want to see Paris," I said, "and Rome and Venice."

"I've heard that there is a new gay bar in Amsterdam,"  Matt said.   "How about we include a visit in our itinerary."

"A  gay bar ?"  I had never heard of such a thing.  The word gay had not long been an acceptable synonym for homosexual and what was a gay bar ?

Matt explained and I thought it was something we could do although Amsterdam was not on a direct route to Italy where I had thought we could chase the sun.  I suggested we include Amsterdam on the way home.

For some reason Matthew wanted to go shopping alone the next day, he was quite definite and I did not argue.  "I'll call for you round lunch time and we can look at the maps over a pint."

"OK."

I had given Matt a key to my home, he had, had it for some time but seldom used it.  Normally he would ring the bell but on this occasion he let himself in.

"Matt,"  I said shocked at his appearance, "what's happened ?"

His face was bloodied and dirty.

"It's nothing."

"No it isn't."  His right eye was puffed up and closing.  "You've been beaten up.  Who did this to you ?  I'm calling the police."

"No !"

"Then tell me what happened.  Who did this to you ?"

Matt sat down, he looked a mess.  The closer I looked at him the more concerned I became.

"You need to go to hospital."

"No I don't, I'll be fine."

"Tell me what happened to you !"  I demanded.

I repeated that demand several times before he reluctantly started to explain.

"It was a group of lads from school, lower sixth."

"And.. ?"

"They were walking behind me towards the bus station and I heard one of them call out:  Look it's that queer who fucks his teacher.  I was horrified, I didn't realise anyone knew about us, we have been careful haven't we ?"

I thought we had but obviously we hadn't.

"I turned round and faced them but before I could say anything they hurled more abuse."

"How many were there ?"

"Four."

"Who were they ?"

He didn't answer but continued his story. "Before I knew what was happening one of them hit me, then another and I was on the floor.  Then they all began kicking me.  I curled up and tried to protect myself."

"I'm calling the police !"

"NO !"  Matt insisted.  "Leave it please.  Look I got the maps as I promised so we can start to plan a route just like we said we would.  And I also got this, I got it for you."

He handed me a small ring box.  I opened it and inside there was a single band rose gold ring.

"I had it engraved, look."

There were just two words: Noel  Matt.  A tear formed in my right eye, quivered on the bottom lid and spilled onto my cheek.

"I love you Matt."  Small, simple words but packed with everything I felt for him.

"And I love you too Noel."

I went to kiss him but before I could do so he cried out in pain.  He gasped for air and was obviously finding it hard to breath.

"Are you alright ?"

"I'm finding it hard to breath, I was all right before it's just started."

I insisted that he see a doctor without any more delay and this time Matthew agreed but insisted I did not call the police.  I was going to take Matt to the casualty department at our local hospital and first thought of calling for an ambulance but decided it would be quicker if I drove him there myself.

The journey was quick but felt laboured and slow. I was frightened listening to Matthew's short painful gasps for breath.  I helped him inside the building and was ushered into a cubicle.  My stomach churned as the plastic curtains drew leaving me outside.  A nurse took me away and left me to wait in the reception area.  I called Matthew's home from a public call box on the wall.  His father was away, driving in Scotland but his Mother said she would be straight over.

"I'll come and get you ?"

"No you stay there, I'll get the bus."

When she arrived they had just taken Matthew off for an x-ray.  We sat together in a corner of the reception area and waited.

"What happened ?"

"Matthew was attacked in town this morning."

"Were you with him ?"

"No."  I gave her a mildly edited version of events as I knew them.

"I see."  She paused then began to speak quietly.  "You and Matthew are very close friends aren't you ?"

"Yes,"  I confirmed.

"I mean close,"  she said emphasising the word.

"Of course we are."

"Noel, we like you, my husband and I.  We are very grateful for all you have done for Matthew, getting him a place at Oxford and helping his dad with a job, you are a good person.  So what I am trying to say is you are very close, yes."

"Yes Mrs Parker."

"And when Matthew stays over at your house you sleep in the same bed."

I looked down and studied my hands folded together, thinking what I should say.  A mother knows her own son and she knew Matthew. "Yes, we do."  the answer was honest, genuine and spoken with feeling.

She placed a hand on my arm.  "That's alright Noel, I understand.  I've known for a long time that Matthew is, what's the word everyone uses now - gay.  I have come to terms that I will never be a grandmother, I just want him to be happy.  You will make him happy won't you Noel ?  This isn't just some kind of teenage fling is it ?  I don't want him to be hurt,"

Before I could answer her a doctor appeared and spoke.  He explained that Matthew was quite badly bruised and his chest muscles were giving him a lot of pain.  He was receiving pain killers and would be feeling better in a day or so.  The hospital wanted to keep him on overnight for observation.

I explained about our trip to Europe.

"He should be fine for that,"  the white coated doctor said. "but keep the journey distances low to begin with."

"Will he be able to drive ?"

"Can not see any reason why not."

Waves of relief brought warm succor to me.  Matthew was alright, so many terrible fears had invaded my mind over the last hour and no matter how hard I had tried to exclude them and tell myself all would be well they would not go away.

"We're just sending him up to the ward, you'll be able to see him as soon as he is settled in."

"I need to go home and fetch his pyjamas, and he'll need soap and things."

I giggled as inside my mind I pictured Matthew in pyjamas, he never wore them at my house !

Matt was sitting up in bed, wearing a hospital gown.  He smiled as he saw us.  It was good to see him, we talked about the holiday and Matthew assured me that he would be well enough.

"Matthew, Noel and I have been talking,"  his Mum said  after a while, "I want you to know it's all right."

"She knows,"  I added.  "And she's fine."

"Mum ?"

I smiled, we were both happy.

It took some effort on my part to make a much needed, although slight, revision to our plan for Europe and I had to be careful to keep my secret, from Matt at least.  We left a day later than our original intention to give Matthew an extra twenty-four hours to recover.  He didn't really need it and on the day we left it was hardly possible to see that he had been attacked, even his eye looked almost normal.

That was the hottest summer on record and not since has there been such a heat wave.  All of Northern Europe basked in glorious sunshine while the planners did their best to avoid the inevitable water shortage.  We put the top down on the car and with Matthew driving the warm air blew through our hair as we headed towards Dover and the Townsend Torrenson Ferry to France.  We had deliberately left after lunch intending to find somewhere round Calais for the night and drive to Paris the next day.  Matthew had spent hours pouring over the maps and planned us a series of alternatives which we could employ depending on the way we felt as the holiday progressed. However, all returned via Amsterdam and the newly opened gay bar.

It was such a relief that Matthew had not been more seriously hurt, I made a silent vow that I would never again allow anything to hurt him.

We stood on the bow of the ferry and looked back on the celebrated White Cliffs of Dover.

"They do look grand don't they ?"  Matthew said.

"Indeed they do. Majestic in a way, makes you proud to be English."

"But I'm a quarter Welsh on my mother's side,"  he joked.

"And I'm a sixteenth Albanian from a cousin six times removed on my great-granny's side."

Matthew laughed and feigned a punch to my arm.  "Oh Noel I do love you, you have made me so happy.  We will be together for ever won't we ?"

"Is that a proposal ?"

"If it could be it would be."

I nodded gently, "We are going to be together for ever Matthew and beyond that as well."

"Then let us use this moment right now as a vow to one another."

I took his hand in mine.  "For ever and beyond that as well."

"For ever and beyond that as well,"  Matthew repeated.

For ever and beyond.

We found a lovely small hotel just outside Calais where we were made very comfortable for the night.  There were few guests and after dinner we sat chatting with the owner and his wife.  Matthew spoke perfect French and I recalled as best I could my own efforts from school.  We drank wine until very late, many times saying we needed to go to bed only to be persuaded to stay a little longer.  Home made bread and cheese from a local dairy was produced as supper and we were persuaded to eat again before retiring.  It was a warm and perfect start to our holiday.  Well almost perfect.  I find myself laughing out loud now as I recall what happened.

Our room was on the first floor of the small hotel and did not have its own bathroom, this was a little way off on the floor below.  I was unpacking, Matt having set off in search of this bathroom.  When he returned he burst into the bedroom giggling like a small child.

"Have you seen it ?"  he exclaimed.

"Seen what ?"

"The loo, it's like something out of history !"

"What do you mean ?"

Of course I knew what he meant and don't tell me Matthew had not heard of the notoriety of French plumbing.

"It's Ok I guess if you want to have a pee and can aim well but for anything else you need to be an Olympic gymnast. It's nothing more than a hole in the floor !"

"Painful !"

"It could be, I mean it could be dangerous.  Tell me how would an old lady manage on that or a man with one leg ?  How's he supposed to crouch down and do the necessary ?"

Matthew cocked one leg up behind him, held it with a hand then tried to crouch down.  He fell over laughing, I could not control my self and we both dissolved into fits of uncontrollable hilarity until our bodies ached.

Back in bed after our time downstairs Matthew whispered to me, "Don't get caught short in the night Noel 'cos if you fall down that hole I'm not coming to look for you !"

"So much for ever and beyond."

"Yeah but that doesn't include crazy French toilets !"

"Perhaps I should find myself a French lover who is more accustomed to them."

"You dare."

We lay next to one another, the curtains were drawn and the windows open.  Outside an owl hooted and we made love twice.

Before we left the next morning our hosts made us promise that we would return and stay with them on our way home at the end of our holiday.  We promised to do that and to spend another evening with them and tell all of our adventures over more wine and home made bread.  It was a promise we were only too happy to make.

"Do you think we will make more friends like that ? They are great people."  Matt asked.

"Oh I'm sure they will and everyone of them will have a toilet in their home just the same."

But I had a secret and knew Matthew would that night be able to avail himself of the finest toilet in the country.  I had been planning a little surprise for my friend.  In two days time the GCE A Level results were to be published, Matthew's Mum was going to be at the school bang on eight thirty, collect the little brown envelope containing the grades then take a taxi straight to Birmingham Airport.  Another taxi would meet her at Charles de Gaul Airport and drive her to the Paris Ritz Hotel.  I had managed to have Matthew's Dad assigned to a coach tour which would bring him in Paris at the same time, a local agency was going to provide a relief driver to take over his tour for a day and he too would be with us to celebrate.  Even dear old Professor Coldrick had given me a card of congratulations and a small gift to pass to Matthew when he opened that results envelope.  How many other students awaiting A Level results to confirm their place at Oxford University would receive such a personal wish from a celebrated don ?  I was determined to make this a special time both for Matthew and his parents.

We had that coming night in Paris's finest hotel alone and then the party would begin.  I had been so careful to conceal my plans from Matthew until the last moment.

"Probably best if we find somewhere to stay before we begin sightseeing," he said as we neared the city.

"Don't worry about that, I've taken care of it."

He could read something in the tone of my voice and I could not help grinning widely.  "Noel what are you up to?"

"Wait and see."

A unformed doorman greeted us, bell hops appeared to take our luggage and a chauffer was ready to take the car to the hotel garage.

"We are never staying here !"

"We are."

"But it will cost a fortune."

It would but nothing was too good for him.

I have to admit that I was indeed amazed myself  at the opulence and sheer luxury of the place.  Flowers, bowls of fruit and expensive chocolates had been placed in our room.  "Is the bathroom to your liking ?"  I smiled.  It was.

"Do you know what Hemmingway said of this place ?"  I asked.

"No."

"He said: When I dream of afterlife in heaven the action always takes place at the Paris Ritz."

"Did he ?  And what action have you got planned for here ?"

"Wait and see."  Little did he know.  Little did I know.

When I could drag Matthew away we left the Paris Ritz by taxi for the Eiffel Tower.

"Race you to the top,"  Matthew challenged.

So intoxicated with happiness were we both that I accepted his dare.  It is a long, long way up.  Matthew was always ahead of me and would call back down,   "Come along wimp, what's keeping you ?"

My legs ached and my lungs stretched out for air.  Finally at the top I panted and looked out over the spectacular view.

"Are you trying to kill me ?"

"Never."

We stood together in silence for nearly an hour, everything was perfect, oh so very perfect.  In that silence our hearts called out to the whole of Paris the love we had for each other. For ever and beyond.

We could have stayed there much longer but we both wanted to return to the Ritz and bask in the magnificence of such a hotel.

"Race you back down again ?"

"Have a heart,"  I protested.

"Want to use the lift then ?"

"No, go on I sighed."

And so we ran all the way down again and at the bottom both of us were soaked in our own perspiration.  But the bath in our room was big enough for two, well it was a hot summer and even  Paris  was  experiencing a mild drought so why not save water ?  I soaped and caressed Matthew's body, my fingers gently massaging and stroking him.  He sighed and kissed me.

"You know Oscar Wilde stayed here,"  I whispered.

"Did he ?"

"In this very room."

I had made enquiries and managed to get the hotel to agree to my making a special reservation.

"Yes,"  I confirmed

"Did Bosie stay here with him ?"

"No, it was before they met."

"But if they had stayed here together......"

If they had ...

I don't think they would have made love in the bath as we did that afternoon.  I wonder if in years to come two lovers will ask if they could stay in the same room in The Paris Ritz as Noel and Matthew.

Also as part of my planning I had arranged for the hotel to hire two dress suits in our size.  They had been brought to our room while we were out in the city and now we dressed for dinner.  About us in the lavish dining room we sat with the rich and famous, I wondered what people thought of us.   Who we were ?   What was our fortune ?

Of course the food was the finest but Matthew was not eating very much.

"Is it alright ?"  I asked

"Fine, I'm just feeling a bit stiff."

"That's what comes from running up and down the Eiffel Tower !"

He smiled.  "Sorry, this has all been so exciting."

And so it had been.  So much had happened.  It was wonderful.

We finished eating and made for bed.  I asked how he was feeling and Matthew said nothing was wrong, he was just tired and aching.

"Now who's the wimp,"  I grinned.

"You wait until the morning !"

How comfortable that bed was, how exotic the silk sheets felt on my naked skin.  We fell asleep in each other's arms.  I held him tightly.  But even in sleep I was conscious that his was abnormally hot and when he began to stir and turn I awoke.

"Are you all right ?"  I asked.

"It's my back again and I'm feeling a bit sick."

"Do you want some paracetamol or aspirin ?"

"No, no I'll be fine.  Sorry to wake you.  I'll just run to the loo and then go back to sleep."

He was gone for only a moment when he called me from the bathroom.  "Noel, Noel come quickly."

I sprang from the bed and went to him.  "What's the matter ?"

"I've just pissed blood Noel, that isn't right is it ?"

I glanced briefly at the toilet bowl.  "Go back to bed,"  I ordered him as kindly as I could.  "Lay down I am going to call a doctor."

"What's the matter with me Noel ?"

I did not need a medical degree to know what was the matter.  I called the hotel reception and the house doctor was with us in under five minutes.  He examined Matthew and confirmed my amateur diagnosis.

"He is bleeding from the kidney Monsieur, his left kidney is swollen.  He needs to go to hospital."

Yet again Matthew had been hurt, I was a total failure in protecting him.  Why hadn't the hospital at home realised the attack had injured his kidney.  Now it was ruptured and bleeding, I knew the situation was serious and that Matthew would probably lose it.

"I will call an ambulance,"  the Ritz doctor continued picking up the phone by the side of the bed.  "He will need an operation."

Matthew reached out and held my hand.  "I'm sorry Noel."

"Sorry for what ?

The ambulance came and Matthew was taken inside on a stretcher.  It's siren echoed in the Parisian night as it made the short journey to the hospital.  Less than an hour since he had first called me into the bathroom Matthew was in the operating theatre and yes they did remove his kidney.

"He will be able to live a perfectly normal life with one kidney Monsieur,"  The Ritz doctor comforted.  He had remained by my side throughout.  "He is special to you is he not ?"

He could see our relationship and accepted it for what it was without any prejudice at all.  It occurred to me that a similar attitude had been prevalent from all at the Ritz Hotel but then discretion would have been a part of their hospitality.  No this kindly doctor was not troubled by our love in the same way as had the hotelier and his wife back in Calais.  How long before similar understanding would be normal in England.

"He is very special to me,"  I said, "but there have been some terrible moments of pain because of our love."  I told him of the headmaster beating Matthew, of his being attacked the week before and now how destiny was again extracting its price.

"Monsieur,"  he said gently, "if you want to see a rainbow you must also be prepared for the rain."

How true.

"He will be fine, your young friend although it will take a few weeks for him to regain his strength, this will be a long operation."

It was mid morning before Matthew was out of theatre.  I went to see him but he was sleeping.  There were tubes and wires attached to him and my heart screamed out for him.  I am so sorry Matthew, so very sorry !

I had to return to the hotel and meet his mother, again breaking the news that her son was in hospital.  This time she wept bitterly before composing herself.

"You must wish I had never met Matthew,"  I said.

"Don't you dare say that," she chided.  "I love Matthew, he is my son but you need to understand Noel that I also love you !  Don't you ever think anything so terrible as that again !"

This time it was my turn to weep.

When we returned to the hospital we found Matthew dozing.  They had removed the oxygen tubes leaving just a heart monitor and catheter connected to him.  He opened his eyes and looked at us.

"I have your results,"  his mother said.  "You passed everything with A grades Matthew."

He smiled, said "Did I ?" And closed his eyes to sleep again.

My wonderful party at The Ritz Hotel was replaced by Matthew's parents and I sitting round his bed that evening: no champagne, no celebration and no wild festivity but it was a warm time of love and I realised just how much Matthew's parents had taken me into their lives.  How lucky I was.

If you want to see a rainbow you must also be prepared for the rain.  Wise words but I was not sure how much of a comfort they were to me.    Was  Destiny going to take its pound of flesh for every ounce of happiness we were to enjoy for the rest of our lives ?  What could I do to protect Matthew ?  I cried, "Destiny you make sure it is my turn next time and please leave Matthew alone."

Matthew's Dad had to return to his tour party but his Mum wanted to stay until Matthew was well enough to return home.  Much as I would have loved us to stay on at the Ritz it was beyond my means and besides the magic of everything was just not there without my lover.  I found an alternative hotel near to the hospital and we took two rooms, one for myself and one for Mrs Parker.

Each day we spent as much time as we could with Matthew and as soon as he was well enough we visited many of the sites of Paris.  How I yearned for us to be touring Europe as we had originally planned but there would be other times, other summers.  After all we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Dear Mrs Parker, I enjoyed her company over those days and was greatly encouraged by her.  She knew just when to leave us alone and when we both needed her company and support. She helped us make plans for our move to Oxford and the two degree courses we would soon commence.  Matthew was rightly proud of his examination results and was so excited about Oxford.  Professor Coldrick telephoned a number of times enquiring as to Matthew's progress.  Matthew thanked him for his gift, a gold fountain pen with which he promised to write his first university essay.

In time Matthew was pronounced well enough to make the journey home but the doctors were not happy with the thought of him traveling by road.  Of course they were right, no question, the heat and the length of the drive would be too much for him.  Instead he and his mother would fly home and I would drive back alone.

It was agony for me and I wished I had sold the car in France so I could take the flight with them.  Paris to Calais is not a long way but it felt like it was half way round the world.  I didn't put the top down on the car and I didn't listen to any music.  The only stops I made along the way were to buy petrol, I did not stop to eat and didn't call into the Calais hotel.  I felt guilty about that but still drove straight to the ferry.  All the way on the crossing I sat on deck looking towards England and my beloved Matthew.

"Oh Matthew I love you."

Small words which are all so easily said and so inadequate to explain my feelings but they were all I had.  I screamed them aloud in my mind every minute.  "Oh Matthew I love you !"

And then I could hear him reply: "For ever and beyond Noel, for ever and beyond."

For ever and beyond.

Once home we spent time organising a home for us in Oxford.  We found a lovely property on the edge of the city.   It really was far too large for just the two of us and it was way above our price bracket but we loved it so much and wanted to make it our home. On the strength of my selling my parents' former home the bank was prepared to bridge the difference.  So as cash buyers everything was able to progress very quickly and we moved in well ahead of the new term.

The house  previously belonged to a doctor who was retiring and emigrating to live with his daughter in New Zealand.  When he asked us if we would be interested in buying the furniture as he did not intend taking it with him we agreed a price.  It wasn't exactly our style of taste but we did manage to kit out the entire five bedroom house for a song. We also took over the doctor's housekeeper who came in three times a week to do washing, cleaning and also kindly agreed to help with some of the cooking. We thought we would try to upkeep the garden ourselves, at least to begin with, but there was a small swimming pool in a conservatory on the side of the house and we arranged for a contractor to come once a week and maintain it.

With Matthew now well again I was worried that everything was just a little too perfect and could not help wondering what retribution Destiny would demand from us.  Surely we had paid enough for the time being.

Matthew was a keen swimmer and that had more than a slight influence on our taking the house.  We swam together day after day, each time naked.  It was good to see Matthew so strong after his ordeal and I became used to the sight of the large operation scar on his back.

Matt's Mum and Dad came round several times and helped us with all manner of odd jobs.  Professor Coldrick also dropped by, it was good to see him.

"A lovely home boys," he smiled.  "You'll be very comfortable here. I've brought you a small housewarming present."

He reached inside his jacket  and produced a small brown manila envelope.  It was old with fraying edges and clearly part of a bygone age.  The flap had never been sealed and now the glue had darkened and started to crack.  The Professor was smiling broadly.  My fingers reached inside and found a small photograph.  It was reproduced on thick card the like of which Victorian studios used.  Matt leaned over my shoulder to with me look at a small photograph of Oscar Wilde.

"Turn it over,"  the Professor said.

On the reverse in Oscar Wilde's own hand were the written these words:

Dearest Bosie'
Keep this close to your heart as I always keep you close to mine.
Fondest love: Oscar

"Wow !"

"Bosie gave it to me himself,"  Professor Coldrick said.  "It was among a few of his very personal possessions he entrusted to me shortly before he died.  Although he never stopped loving Oscar he kept this a secret from his family and did not want them to come across certain items when they went through his effects after his death."

"You must have been a very close friend of his,"  I observed.  "I remember you saying you knew him but I did not realise you were friends."

Professor Coldrick just smiled.

That night in bed Matthew whispered to me, "Noel I want a picture of you to carry round with me, to keep close to my heart just like Bosie had that picture of Oscar."

"There are lots of pictures in the house, take your pick."

"No, not one of them I mean a special one."

"OK, we'll take some new ones."

Matthew rolled closer and spoke sever so softly into my ear, his warm breath trickled.  "I want a totally nude picture of you.  Would you like one of me ?"

"Of course I would but we can hardly drop a roll of film like that into Boots to be developed."

(This was a time before the invention of digital cameras.)

"We can get a Polaroid camera."

Matthew slid a hand to rest on my stomach.  There has always been so much contact between us but there are some special ways he at times uses to tease me.  These will always cover my entire body with tiny goose pimples.  I was semi-erect as Matthew moved to tantalise me in his most special of special ways.

I have a tight foreskin which even with the stiffest hard on barely uncovers the head of my dick.  I'll never know why my parents did not have me circumcised but I'm so grateful they did not.  I love and am proud of my foreskin.

Matthew placed the tip of his forefinger on the head of my dick and pressed down ever so gently.  Then squeezing my shaft with his thumb and middle finger pulled the foreskin up and over both the head of my cock and the tip of his finger.  I find this so erotic and something which is guaranteed to make me climax quickly.  That night was no exception.

"I love that part of your body,"  Matthew said, "and I want it to feature in your photograph."

"Cheeky !"

Matthew is more well endowed than I and in that department he has a special beauty all of his own.  Of course I could easily picture him in my mind any time I wanted but nevertheless a photograph would be nice.

So that was decided.  The next day we went into town and came back with both a Polaroid camera and a silver frame for Oscar's picture.

"So when are we going to take the pictures ?"

"No time like the present, so they say."

Amidst giggles and foolery it was a mission of some difficulty to take the pictures. Those old fashioned Polaroid cameras were messy and basic, the pictures they produced were small and a bit grainy but we eventually took a couple we liked.  I still have the one of Matt, I keep it with me all the time, and I know he has the one of me.

Matthew's nineteenth birthday was just a few days before the start of term and I wanted to do something to help make up for the failed holiday.  I had found exactly what I wanted in a Paris shop while Matt had been in hospital but I wanted to do something special on the day.  I asked him if there was anything he wanted to do.  We enjoyed going to our favorite pubs for drinks and had a number of restaurants we liked but these were things we could do at any time.  From time to time we would go to a club but it wasn't always easy two guys together in such places.

"Do you think we could go to see Evita ?"

Evita was the latest from Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber and playing to packed houses every night.  I called the manager of Sureway Travel's largest agency and asked if he could help.

"Noel that show's booked solid for six months, you haven't a hope of  getting two tickets for next week !  Now if you wanted Broadway I could help."

"Broadway ?"

"Yes, New York the UK travel industry always has a block of Broadway tickets reserved, I could probably get you two of those."

Why not ?

"Can you sort me some flights and a hotel room as well."

I awoke Matt very early and we made love. I then gave him my gift of a gold chain bracelet.  The day before I had told him that I had managed to get us tickets for Evita, I just didn't tell him where, and that we would be staying overnight so he needed to pack a bag.  Secretly I had taken his passport and hidden it together with my own and the tickets.

"Why do we have to leave so early Noel ? And why have you booked a taxi ?  Why can't we drive ourselves ?"

I tapped the side of my nose with my finger and winked an eye.

Matthew fell asleep in the car which was an added bonus to my plan. I did not stir him until the taxi pulled up outside the terminal building.  He got out and stood on the pavement in a daze.

"Where are we ?"

"Heathrow Airport."

"What are we doing here ?"

"Going to New York to see Evita."

He looked at me and laughed.  "Oh Noel I do love you so much."

Now awake with excitement, Matt looked about the terminal building searching for the right check in desk.

"Who are we flying with ?"

"British Airways."

"And what's the flight number ?"

"BA001."

He glanced at one of the monitors."

"Noel, that's - that's Concord."

"Yes I know."

Every second of those two days was an extravaganza of excitement  and joy which I hoped would in some way make up for the aborted holiday. Concord was the Paris Ritz of the skies taking us from London to New York faster than we could think.

"And where are we staying in New York ?"  Matthew asked.

"The Waldof Astoria."

"Noel !"

I smiled.

We packed so much into the time until Concord sped us back to London.  Evita was truly terrific and we bought the double LP of the show.  We still have that old vinyl record and count it among our treasured possessions.

Yes, everything was fabulously exciting and we had the thrill of the new term to look forward to.

Chapter Three - Oxford

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."

Chapter Four - The Literary Archaeologist

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.