I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside - 2. Settling In

Settling In

Of course Chris was working again the next day, so Billy didn't have to buy the 99s, but the other part of their arrangement went ahead when they went to bed on the Sunday night. If you'd asked Billy afterwards to rate Chris' efforts he'd probably have given him good marks for trying but poor ones for technique. However, it had taken him quite a few attempts before he became any good at giving blow jobs, but in the years since he had become a real expert. Also, it had been a very long while since anyone had given Billy one as most of his clients wanted only one thing so it was nice to have someone give him one, even if Chris was a total novice. Billy reasoned that Chris could only get better with practice the same as he had and besides which he rather liked being with him. He'd not had a real friend for many years.

Actually, Billy's clients quite often wanted two things, or at least one of two, but Billy was resolute that all he was offering were blow jobs and nobody was going to get their prick up his arse. Indeed in the last few weeks he had made a conscious effort to cut down on the number of men he went with. No longer did he go looking for business in town, but now had a small number that he either called on or met in certain places – there was a lot of beach in and around Margate and it wasn't lit at night…

On the Tuesday after the Bank Holiday, which was actually the last day of August, George told the two of them as he served dinner, that they needed to have a talk after the meal. The two boys exchanged glances wondering if they'd done anything wrong, but neither could think of anything. Once they'd finished the meal Billy got up to do the washing up as usual, but George told him just to put the dishes into soak and come back to the table. Billy did that and sat down next to Chris, opposite George. He felt Chris' hand on his leg, just touching, and guessing what he might want joined his own hand with it. The smile he got from Chris told him he'd guessed right; whatever was going to happen they were in it together.

George cleared his throat before speaking.

"Look boys, I don't know if either of you have really thought about this, but it's the end of August. Summer will soon be over. Have you thought about what you're going to do then?"

The words hit Chris like a thunderbolt. He'd always been a boy who lived from day to day without thinking much, if anything, about the future. The only exception had been when he'd planned for running away. Once that had succeeded, he'd settled into life living with George and working on the beach. Those plus his friendship with Billy had been the best few months of his life – the thought that they would end hadn't occurred to him. He tightened his grip on Billy's hand to the extent that Billy let out a little 'ouch' until Chris relaxed his grip.

"I didn't think you had," George continued as neither boy said anything.

"Chris, the deckchairs will finish by the end of September, so you'll be out of a job then. Billy I know hasn't got a job so it's a bit different for him. But, I suppose what I'm saying is do you two want to stay living here?"

Two voices spoke as one. "Yes!"

Then Chris added, "But how if I'm not earning?"

George smiled at them.

"I sort of thought you'd say that. Chris, I've talked with Mr Rodgers who employs you on the deckchairs. He also has a business doing decorating when the summer season is over. The hotels and guest houses can't have any work done during the summer as their room are occupied – hopefully! – but it's different in the winter. He says he's willing to take you on and give you a try."

"But I don't know anything about decorating?"

"No, I know that and so does he. So you'd start off doing the dirty work like cleaning down paintwork and stripping wallpaper and things like that, but then you'd be shown how to do other things."

"Cor! That'd be good. And I'd be earning and could still stay here. But what about Billy?"

"Ah, Billy is a bit of a problem."

"They was always telling me that at the 'ome – usually before they whacked me." said Billy, producing a chuckle from both the others.

"If Billy can't stay then I don't want to."

"Chris, I didn't say Billy couldn't stay. Hold onto your horses and I'll try and explain. Billy's not fifteen so he should still be at school. If he didn't look so young he might be able to get away with it, but looking as he does if he's still wandering around after the schools go back someone is going to report him. Then we'll have goodness who round checking up and maybe he could end…"

"I ain't going back to that fuckin' 'ome ever!"

"Billy, I understand that and I've been thinking how we could get round the problem. You don't have a birth certificate I know, but do you know where you were born?"

"Yeah, was a place called Newark, but then we moved to Lincoln 'cos me Dad got a job wiv an engineering firm there."

"And do you recall your parent's first names."

"Course I do! Harry and Mary."

"Well, I think we should be able to get a copy of your birth certificate but we'd need to go to the Registrar's office in Newark to get it."

"What difference will 'aving it make?"

"If we've got it I think I can get you registered at a school here without too many questions being asked – at least I hope not."

"So I'd 'ave to go to bleedin' school again?" asked Billy with a big grin.

"Yes, you would – and I'd expect no bunking off."

"Yeah – you would say that. Tan me arse too if I did – wouldn't ya? But why do this for me, George?"

There was a pause while George gathered his thoughts. Chris was looking at him and felt sure there was dampness in his eyes as he spoke.

"I guess you two have sort of grown on me; livened things up a bit. I did feel sorry for you when I first saw you and I guess I think you deserve a second chance."

At that point a thought suddenly entered Chris' mind; if his job was going to end when the summer season finished then what about….. He spoke the thoughts.

"George, doesn't the putting finish too? So what about your job running that?"

"I'm one of the lucky ones, lad. I'm on permanent staff not just employed for the season so I get put on general maintenance work. I'll probably be doing same as you some of the time – painting and decorating," he finished with a little chuckle.

Chris stood up, walked round the table and gave George a hug. As he was doing so Billy joined them.

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Later that week George and Billy took the train from Margate to Victoria and then went across London by underground to Kings Cross where they boarded another train to Newark. Getting a copy of Billy Lee's birth certificate proved to be quite a simple process and was mainly a matter of answering a few questions and then handing over some money in exchange for a small piece of paper.

That then left the matter of getting Billy enrolled in a school which could, or even should, have presented problems because it was impossible to say where he'd been educated previously. However, George seemed to have a good network of friends – mainly people he had served with or under in the East Kent Regiment during the war - and Billy was accepted. He started school a couple of weeks before Chris finished with the deckchairs. He and Chris almost came to blows on the first morning of school when Chris started laughing as he saw him dressed up in his regulation grey trousers, grey shirt, tie and school blazer. Billy looked so unlike the Billy he had known, especially with his hair cut to a regulation short back and sides at George's insistence. After some initial not unexpected difficulties in settling in with boys he had never met, Billy seemed to be enjoying being back at school. Nobody really knew how good or bad his education had been while at the orphanage. He was certainly lacking in knowledge of some subjects, but on the basic important subjects he was at a good level. As George, who got unofficial reports on a weekly basis from a friend who was a teacher at the school, had suspected, Billy was a bright kid.

There was one other rather unexpected development. Unlike many schools this one played both soccer and rugby. Billy had too many bad memories of playing soccer at the orphanage and being frequently fouled by the bigger boys, so when given the choice decided to play rugby. He had no idea that George could hardly afford to pay for all the extra kit he needed, but George was rewarded when he quickly took to the game. Being short he was of the ideal build for a scrum half and within a few weeks was showing some promise in that position.

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When the deckchair season came to an end, Mr Rodgers organised an 'end of season' party on a Saturday night at one of the local pubs for his staff. Chris naturally was invited and told that although Billy wasn't officially an employee he could come too as he'd helped Chris quite a bit. Naturally the two went there with the best of intentions planning to drink only soft drinks. Equally naturally those intentions were rather forgotten as the evening wore on and they began to enjoy themselves and relax. Afterwards neither knew exactly what they had drunk and undoubtedly part of the problem was as much due to the mixture as the quantity. But when they emerged from the warmth of the pub into the cold of the night, they both started to feel very queasy.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it wasn't far from the pub to George's house. But coming back into the warmth again was the final straw for both of them. Billy had to make a quick dash for the kitchen sink in order to spew up while Chris could at least dash upstairs to the toilet to be sick. George had been in bed, but got up on hearing the commotion. He suggested that they should try to drink some water and then go to bed, but taking a bucket with them as he didn't want to have to clean up any mess in the morning.

It was quite late on the Sunday morning when the pair finally managed to come downstairs where George sat in the kitchen reading the paper. After exchanging 'good mornings' the boys sat down at the table each with a glass of water. George gave them a couple of minutes to get fully awake before he said anything. Putting his paper down on the table he said,

"I've cleared up the mess you left in the kitchen, Billy and the one you left in the bathroom, Chris."

Both offered their apologies.

"Do you remember what I told you both when I first said you could live here?"

They looked blankly at him. Neither was in a state for their brain to work to that degree.

"I told you that if you ever came home drunk, the first time I'd tan your arses and the next I'd throw you out. Remember now?"

Both nodded.

"So that's what I'm going to do – after tea tonight. That'll give you the day to think about it as well as sober up. Of course if you don't want to have your arses tanned then you can pack your things and go. I'll leave you to talk about it."

He got up from the table and walked into the other room.

The pair sat there in silence for a few minutes before Chris broke it.

"Put your coat on Billy. Let's go for a walk. It looks pretty windy out, maybe a walk along the cliffs will clear our heads."

They did that and walked down to the path that led along the top of the cliffs. They strolled along for a couple of minutes into the wind, hands stuffed in pockets. Finally Billy broke the silence.

"We really gonna let 'im tan our arses – as 'e puts it. An' what does that mean?"

"He did warn us and I don't think we've got a lot of choice – not if we want to stay here. And we did get drunk and make a right mess in the house."

Billy giggled.

"Yeah, guess we did, should've made us clear it up tho'. Don't reckon 'e's got a cane so at least it won't be a five barred gate."

"Billy, what is a five barred gate? You said them words when we first met, but I didn't know what they meant then and didn't want to ask."

"Fuck me Chris – you really don't know do ya? You ever been caned?"

Chris had been slippered many times both at home and at school, but he'd somehow always managed to avoid being caned at school. He wasn't going to lie to Billy.

"No – just never happened, although there was one I know."

"Oh, you was a little goody goody weren't yer?" said Billy punching him on the arm. That led to a quick grappling session before their walk resumed and Billy picked up the conversation

"Well, you know what a normal caning's like, don'tcha? The strokes go across your arse sort of parallel to the ground."

Chris nodded.

"Well, a five bar gate is if you're getting six and er gets the first five like that an' then whoever's giving it yer moves a bit so 'e can give yer the last one so it lands across the others."

Chris winced at the thought, automatically imagining it happening, picturing the image in his mind despite not wanting to.

"Fuck! That sounds bleedin' painful. You've had that?"

"Yeah, more'n once – an' you're right, it fuckin' hurts.

They walked on, each with their own thoughts.

"George ain't really got any right to whack us, Chris."

"Maybe not, but we deserve a whacking, don't you reckon?"

"Yeah, but I wish 'e'd do it when we gets back and not 'ave to wait. That makes it worse; I know as they often used to beat us just before we went to bed."

"We can ask." Chris replied, also wanting to get it over and done with.

That they did when they got back, but George wouldn't budge telling them he'd do it after tea and then they could both go to bed like naughty little boys.

George had cooked the usual Sunday roast dinner, but neither of them did it the justice it deserved. They went up to their room afterwards, but neither was in the mood for anything and after a while they came back down and sat with George watching television. The clock ticked slowly round and eventually the time came for tea, both settling for a scone and a piece of cake. After that Chris helped Billy clear away and do the washing up.

"Go up to your room then. I'll be up in a couple of minutes," said George when they'd finished.

They trudged upstairs neither quite sure what was going to happen. George didn't keep them waiting long and soon the door of their bedroom opened to show George holding in his right hand one of his leather soled carpet slippers. Seeing that they exchanged glances from their position sitting on the bed.

"Take your shirts off; then jeans down, pants down and bend over. I'll stop when I think I've got the message through. Alright?"

Chris let out a quiet whistle. This was going to hurt. He looked at Billy who just shrugged, stood up and started undoing his belt and then unzipping his jeans. Chris followed suit and soon both were stood with their jeans and pants round their ankles and their discarded shirts thrown on the bed.

"You - there," said George pointing to Billy and a spot on the carpet, "And you – there, and then both of you bend over." pointing to Chris and another spot on the carpet. The pair shuffled to the points indicated which placed them sufficiently far apart that George could stand between the pair when necessary.

Chris bent over and glancing across saw Billy do the same. It had been a while since he'd last felt a slipper on his arse and that had been at school when he was wearing clothes. He knew the next few minutes were going to be painful.

Although the boys didn't know it George had a reason for taking this action. He really didn't want to do it, but he felt he had somehow to make an impression on them that they were unlikely to forget in a hurry. Hence his instruction to have them strip virtually naked as an added embarrassment. Perhaps one day he'd explain to them, but now wasn't the time.

He moved behind Chris, raised the slipper high and brought it down on his backside with a resounding crack. Chris let out a yelp; he managed not to at the second whack but did again at the third. He was expecting another but heard the crack and felt nothing, only then realising that George had moved across to deal with Billy. Two more quick cracks came and then he heard George moving back to behind him. Thrice more the slipper landed and now Chris was really hurting but there again was a pause as George moved back to Billy. Chris was surprised to hear Billy crying while the next three were delivered – wasn't Billy the tough one he thought to himself? George walked back to Chris and down came three more whacks and now Chris felt a few tears running down his own cheeks. Then it was back to Billy for three more and now Billy was really sobbing. Chris tried to ready himself for the next three but instead heard George say,

"Don't ever make me do that to you again," and then the door shut behind him.

Chris stood up and looked at Billy's arse now mainly red and marked in many places with the imprint of the sole of the slipper. He knew his own would be the same and he gingerly rubbed it. Billy stood up too, turned to Chris and asked,

"Take me jeans an' pants orff please Chris? I don't wanna sit down to do it and I don't wanna pull them up."

Chris obliged, although bending down wasn't easy and Billy then reciprocated. As Billy was doing so a thought occurred to Chris,

"Did you hear what he said about not making him ever do it again? I thought he'd said we'd get chucked out if we ever got drunk a second time."

"I ain't planning to test what 'e meant any time soon," replied Billy before lying face down on the bed. Chris did the same; they moved together before Chris put his right arm over Billy's back who in turn put his left arm over Chris'. Both turned their heads to look at each other and on impulse Chris planted a little kiss on Billy's lips. He pulled his head back immediately, shocked by what he had done and afraid how Billy would react.

"That were nice. You can do it again, if you want."

So Chris did and before long they had rolled onto their sides and from mere pecks the kisses turned into oral explorations by tongues.

They must both have drifted off to sleep because Chris suddenly came to feeling rather cold as he rolled onto his back and also felt the bruising in his rear for the first time. His conscience also told him that there was something he had to do. He pulled the sheet over Billy who appeared to still be fast asleep and pulling on the little pair of skimpy brown Adidas shorts he had worn for most of the summer, went downstairs. The sound of the TV told him that George was in the lounge. He went in; George heard the door squeak, turned to look at him from his seat on the settee, and smiled. Chris walked over to him, sat down on the settee next to him, giving out a little 'ouch' as his rear touched the cushion, and said,

"I'm sorry George. Sorry for getting drunk and sorry for the mess we made. It won't happen again – promise."

"I know it won't Chris. It's over and forgotten now. I know you're a good lad really."

"So's Billy!" said Chris, quite forcefully.

George let out a chuckle. "Maybe not quite as good as you though," he said, putting his arm round Chris as he spoke and pulling the boy's head and shoulders to lean against his own. Chris murmured something George couldn't make out and let out a yawn, at which point the door squeaked open again and then stood Billy totally naked – apart from a pair of socks on his feet.

George was sitting at one end of the settee with Chris next to him. Billy padded across the room and sat himself on George's lap. His face was about level with George's who put his left arm round Billy's shoulders and said,

"Aren't you afraid I might decide to fuck you sitting there naked on my lap?"

"Nah," replied Billy, "not wiv Chris sitting there. 'E wouldn't let you."

George ruffled Billy's hair and made a decision.

"I need to go upstairs for a minute and get something to show you, but before I do I want to say sorry to both of you for tanning you so hard."

"T'weren't that bad. I've 'ad worse," said Billy.

"But you were crying so much I was afraid I'd gone too far.”

"George, I ain't cried for years when I was being whacked. You just didn't give 'em the satisfaction. Tonight was different. Not sure I can explain properly, but I was sorta crying 'cos I knew I'd let you down."

A few tears started to trickle down Billy's cheeks again which George gently wiped away with his fingers only to hear Chris on his other side giving a little sniffle.

"You two sit at each end of the settee, so I can sit in the middle when I get back."

He got up and they heard him going up the stairs. While he was gone they moved to sit as he'd asked, both puzzled as to what he wanted to show them. George was indeed gone for only a minute or two at the most before he returned. Chris saw that he had in his hand an 8" x 10" photo frame with the picture side facing downwards. George came and sat between them.

"I was going to show you this one day; Now, I think today is the right one."

He turned the picture over. Chris gasped at what he saw, but Billy was the first to find his voice,

"Fu…ggin' 'eck, that's Chris!" he exclaimed.

"It does look like me, but that boy has darker hair and he's a bit older I reckon. Who is it, George?"

George hesitated before responding and when he did his voice was taut with emotion.

"That was my son, our son, Philip. And, yes he was eighteen when that was taken back in 1958."

"So where is he, George?"

"I……..don't know………..nobody knows."

Now it was George's turn to let a tear or two fall. Billy and Chris both moved closer to him – the man they had come to accept as a father figure in their own lives – and both put an arm round one of his.

"But, where did he go? What happened to him?" asked Chris.

"Oh, Lord... It was summer; Philip went out drinking with some of his friends. I gather they'd all had quite a few. When they came out of the pub, they went down the beach and a couple of them decided to strip off and go for a swim. The other lad came back, but Philip didn't. They never found his body and it killed my Annie – not immediately as she only died last year, but all the life had gone out of her well before then. Maybe if they'd found his body so he could have been buried and she had a grave to visit it would have been different. But without that there was no closure; she was always thinking he was alive and would turn up. She'd see young men in the street she'd think were him, but of course they never were. In the end it just wore her down."

George was in tears by the time he'd finished. The pair had sat in stunned silence while George had been talking and now waited for him to recover his composure before Billy said,

"Explains why you don't want us drinking. Not that I'm going to again anyway."

"So is that why you offered to take us in that night, because I look like Philip?"

George nodded. "I've seen plenty of runaway kids down here in the summer over the years and I've let them take their chances. But, when I saw you... I couldn't turn round and leave you there – although this loud mouthed little brat nearly blew it for the pair of you!"

George ruffled Billy's hair again and then tickled his ribs. Billy squeaked at the touch and Chris laughed before saying,

"Reckon it's time for us to go to bed. And thanks again George – for everything, even the tanning. You're more of a Dad than I ever had."

Having delivered his little speech Chris lent over and kissed George on the cheek.

"Can't say the same as Chris, but you're as great as my first Dad was. Thanks, George." was Billy's contribution before he kissed George's other cheek.

The boy stood up and headed upstairs and snuggled together in bed. Chris still had his shorts on but Billy was naked. It wasn't long before Chris' hand found its way to Billy's prick which responded immediately to the touch.

Billy pushed one of his hands behind him and felt the material of Chris' shorts. His fingers roamed down their front until he felt Chris' prick, also now hard.

"Are you going to keep them on all night or shall we think of a number?"

Chris giggled. "It's a good thing we both have the same favourite number."

Chris lifted up so Billy could pull down his shorts and then they moved into position. By now they knew each other's bodies well enough to be able to virtually co-ordinate the moment at which they shot. When they'd both recovered they moved into their usual spoon position with Billy's bum snuggled into Chris's tummy and that was how they still were when the alarm went off in the morning.

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That autumn proved to be another turning point in the two boy's lives.

Billy had managed to find himself a job as a paper boy, George having advanced him the money to buy a bike so he could do it. That meant he was up very early in the morning so he could get the round done before he went to school. He also seemed to be enjoying school and when Chris came home from work in the evening Billy would usually be sat at the kitchen table doing homework. When Chris asked him once why he had so much, Billy told him that he had a lot of catching up to do in some subjects.

Chris had also settled into his new job and appeared to be enjoying it. George, with some help from Billy, even managed to persuade him to go to night school to study English and Maths and hopefully get an 'O' level in each at the end of the year. Chris admitted there was some sense to that and so he spent a couple of evenings a week doing that, although he claimed he was only doing it because there wasn't anything worth watching on TV those nights!

One evening, soon after he'd started the job, he wasn't his usual cheerful self over dinner. George asked him what the problem was and at first Chris wouldn't say anything. Then Billy pressed him and he opened up.

"I got tricked and embarrassed at work today."

"That all! What 'appened?" asked Billy.

"Well, we was having our lunch, sat down in this room we were painting and one of the blokes told me he'd got a little job for me to do when we'd finished."

George sat back in his chair, a half smile on his lips. This was going to be some sort of initiation he reckoned.

"So, what did you have to do?" Billy pressed.

"They sent me up to the hardware shop in the High Street to get a dozen Dutch Caps. I thought they were something we needed for the job."

Both Billy and George started laughing, Billy almost doubled up with amusement.

"Oh, it's all right for you to laugh. It happened to be a lady who served me."

Now, George and Billy clung to each other almost helpless with laughter, eventually even Chris started to see the funny side of it and joined in.

When George had recovered enough to speak, he said to Chris,

"Who were you working with today?"

"Alan Johnson, Steve Bailey and Dick Prince. Why?"

"They are a trio of comedians for sure. Just a minute I need to get something."

George went upstairs but returned in just a couple of minutes and laid three small packets on the table.

"Take these to work in the morning, give them one each and tell them they're safer."

Billy on seeing the packets had started to chuckle again, now he was trying hard not to start laughing out loud again.

"Why? What are they?" Chris asked.

Billy could no longer contain his laughter and nor could George. Through his Billy managed to gasp,

"They're Johnnies."

Chris still looked blank and it dawned on Billy that he genuinely didn't know what they were.

"Oh gawd Chris, you're so fuggin' innocent. Does this help:

In days of old when knight were bold

And johnnies weren't invented,

They wrapped a sock around their cock

And 'ad to be contented."

Chris' penny finally dropped while George looked at Billy with an expression of mock horror that quickly changed to a laugh.

.."Ah shit!" Chris exclaimed. "Is there a night school course for this sort of thing?

"Yeah…I'll enrol you in mine...for free!" said Billy.

That naturally brought the house down.

Next morning he duly took the condoms to work and handed them out. From that moment he was fully accepted by the trio and no longer got left with all the dirty mucky jobs to do on his own. It also turned out that both Alan and Steve who were not quite twenty, played football on a Sunday morning for a local team and invited Chris to come along for a trial. His skill level was enough to get him accepted into the team, so from them on Sunday morning saw Chris playing football with Billy watching from the touchline. Occasionally George would also come along, but usually he was busy cooking the Sunday dinner.

Billy also made rapid progress with his rugby. School games took place both on a Wednesday and a Saturday afternoon, so the latter would nearly always see Chris and George cheering him on. Billy was totally fearless on the field and would happily tackle the biggest, hulking forward. Consequently he would usually come home with a few bruises to show for his sport.

Both boys had settled into their new lives and George had really started to think of them as his sons. Very often on a Sunday afternoon he'd told them he was going for a walk if the weather was decent. He wasn't sure if they knew where he went, but they never asked so he never said. He knew that left them with the house to themselves and he by now had a pretty fair idea that they got up to things together in the bedroom judging by noises he'd heard on a few occasions. George didn't really understand homosexuality – he'd never been that way inclined himself; Annie had been his first and only girl even while they were at school. But he didn't condemn it, just as long as the boys didn't make it too obvious to the neighbours, which they didn't. His walk always took him to the cemetery where he'd tell Annie what had happened since his last visit. Up until a few months ago he'd not had much to tell her, but since the boys had arrived that had changed and most of his talk was about Billy and Chris as he knew she would have loved the pair as much as he did. But he didn't tell her about their bedroom activities as she hadn't been quite as open minded as him – the army and the war had changed his views on a lot of things - although he also rather suspected the pair would have won her over.

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