An Italian boy in Camford Pt. 01

Tom showed David their apartment. It was on the first floor and was reached by a flight of outside stairs from a courtyard reached by an archway off the street. It was spacious yet cosy inside. There were two bedrooms, a good-sized bathroom with washbasin, shower, toilet and bidet, a large sitting room with dining space at one end, a reasonable-sized kitchen, and small poky room that the boys used as a study. They paid a nice middle-aged lady who lived nearby to come in three days per week to do the cleaning, and she would on prior notice cook for them in the evening, if asked. They did their own laundry and much of their own shopping, and Tom cooked for them at the weekend if they were at home. "We're very lucky to have some money of our own," said Tom. "We could never have afforded the rent for this apartment on my Leonardo grant and Luke's meagre earnings at the Teatro Musicale!" It was clear to David that they were a very happy couple. Luke reappeared in time for lunch, which they ate in a trattoria near the apartment.

The rehearsal was timed for 4 pm. Luke escorted his father to the theatre, where most of the cast were gathered with the répétiteur. David was introduced by Luke's boss, Cornelio Sirigante. David apologized for breaking up their Saturday afternoon, but said that he could not appear without having sung at least the major numbers of the recitatives and ensembles with the rest of the cast. They began with the archetypal quartet 'Bella figlia del' amore,' which went very well. They then ran through as many ensembles and exchanges of recitative as they could, and finished with just enough time to dress and make up for the performance at 7-30. Fortunately, David was of a similar height and build to the injured tenor, and only the trouser waist needed to be taken in a little. There was a spare box, so Tom was able to watch the performance from a box. The audience received with their programmes a duplicated slip informing them that the role of Il Duca was to be sung at short notice by Davide Singleton-Scarborough, a name that most Italians would find unpronounceable!

The performance was a great success. Tom led the applause from his box and the audience was obviously delighted. They knew international quality when they heard it. Luke's boss was profuse in his thanks to David and asked if he would consider a season in Trabizona in two years time. David immediately agreed, saying that his agent would be in touch to negotiate a fee, as well as to collect payment for that evening's one-off performance. That night their post-performance supper was a much more boozy affair!

Next day the three of them were up early and Tom drove them to Bologna for the service at the English church, at which the two boys had become regular worshippers, and which, apart from conversations while jogging with an American colleague from the lab, was the only time that Tom spoke English! From Bologna they went on to Sandro's home-town to join Luke's mother, Massimo and Bianca for lunch. David gave his niece a big kiss. She was now about fourteen. "I ought to come and see you more regularly," he said to Dorothea and Massimo, "I hope the boys are not coming here too often. If you don't watch out, they'll start bringing their washing for you to do! If they're too lazy to do it themselves, they should be paying someone to do it for them!"

"After not seeing my eldest son for nineteen years, I'm quite happy to see him as often as he cares to come, and Tom is sweet, he's never any trouble! Bianca seems to have taken a fancy to him. The boys NEVER bring me washing! And now that my darling Sandro is in Camford, it's even nicer to have one of my boys in the house."

"But how does Massimo feel about it? Wouldn't he prefer to have a weekend with just the three of you?"

"But he does. The boys don't come every weekend, only every other weekend. And in any case, during the opera season, they only come on Sunday, when Massimo is always glad to see them, and they don't stay overnight. Family is family, and it takes first place with Italians. Don't forget that you were the one who could play with Luca when he was a toddler, took him for walks, got him into Winton College School, even tried to teach him to swim! I never knew him when he was a sweet little boy, so I'm just so glad that I can enjoy his company now that he's a man."

"Actually, much of that credit goes not to me but to Jon. He's the one who got stuck at home with two kids, while I was gadding off round the world singing in opera houses. Sometimes I think that Jon is the kids' real father, and I am just a visitor in my own home. But that is the way that Jon wanted it. He gave up a research career to promote my singing career, because he promised our Dad that he would give me maximum opportunity to use my inborn talent for singing, and we were not prepared to pay someone to bring up our children for us. And we both owe a lot to you for giving us the chance of being Luke's parents!"

"I'm just as grateful to you, because by adopting Luke, you gave me the chance to do a Ph.D." With these mutual compliments, the conversation ended and they all went out to a trattoria for a family lunch.

Next morning, David left early on a train to Valerio-Catullo airport for the return flight to Schiphol, and by 2 pm was listening to one of his pupils singing scales. He was rather pleased that he had finally broken into the Italian opera scene, which not even Marcello Fabioni had managed to achieve for him. (Marcello had been David's singing teacher, had started off David's professional singing career, and had got Luke his present job as assistant to Cornelio Sirigante).

Chapter Four: Sandro explores Camford

Teaching at Sandro's language school took only three days per week. On the fourth day, excursions were organized to interesting places in and near Camford. The fifth day of the week was supposed to be used for private study, but few of the students did much of that. The course lasted six weeks, at the end of which the students took the TOEFL test, although they were encouraged to try the internet-based test at an earlier stage in the course. A few of the students at the school were hoping to start at once on a British University course, like Sandro, but most were using it as basis of preparation for more advanced exams, either in Camford or back in their homeland. In Sandro's case, he had had a telephone/video conference interview, which had more or less satisfied the college admissions tutor, but to be absolutely certain, the offer had been conditional on Sandro getting the highest possible grade in the TOEFL test.

Sandro found that his uncle's low opinion of of language school students had been right. The other students at the school were either obsessively shy, because they lacked the confidence to talk, or perfectly competent English speakers, who just wanted to have a few week's enjoyment away from their parents. Most of the young people on the programme were from rich parents, who just wanted their children out of the way for a few weeks. After three weeks, Sandro took the test and passed as expected, at the highest grade. His result was sent directly to the college by the test agency, and at the end of August, his place at Boni's, as Saint Boniface's was known, was assured. His uncle agreed that there was little point in him staying on the course. He said that he would take Sandro to various interesting places in and around Camford, and of course his daily test regime at home would continue. Sandro's pronunciation was steadily improving, and it was clear that he would have no problems with lectures or tutorials.

Jon also took advantage of his position as honorary fellow of Boni's to show Sandro the college, including the staircase whose refurbishment he had paid for, and many other parts of the college that were not open to undergraduates. He then took Sandro out on a punt through the winding waterways that add an almost Venetian air of romance to the city of Camford. When they got outside the area of the colleges, he showed his nephew how to propel a punt. It is not difficult, but is harder than it looks. The essential point of technique is to keep the pole firmly pushed up against the side of the boat, to push hard on it and to lift it clear of the water between strokes. Sandro watched carefully, and in half an hour was propelling the boat as if he had been doing it for years.

They had also, rather to Sandro's embarrassment, had a few personal discussions. Jon told Sandro that he had joined a family of very pious men, but that he would not be expected to go to church with Jon or the family unless he wanted to. He could go on his own to the local Roman Catholic church, or stay at home and do whatever he liked. There would be no religious pressure. Sandro admitted that although he had been an altar-boy when younger, he now went to church very rarely. Jon also said, and this was perhaps less embarrassing to Sandro, that although he and David were gay, there would be no influence on Sandro, and in any case, once Sandro was living in college, he could do whatever he liked, but warned him that he should always take prophylactic precautions. (The words he used to discuss that topic were not so polysyllabic, and indeed were Italian.) Sandro blushed, but admitted that he had come with the necessary equipment in his luggage. Maybe he was shy, but he was not naïve!

Jon also told Sandro that he had bought him a year's membership of the Camford Men's Fitness Centre. "I had better go with you the first time," he said. "You need to know how the changing rooms work." So one afternoon in August, the two of them entered the Fitness Centre. The building work on the extensions was nearly complete, and it was hoped that the new facilities would be available within a few months. Jon explained to Sandro that the swimming-pool changing facilities were a duplex, which shared a central locker room. One side of the duplex was for modest men, with closed cubicles and individual showers, and the other side for men who did not care who saw them naked, with communal changing and shower facilities without screens or partitions. Jon said that quite a lot of gay men used the facilities, and that Sandro should be aware that he might be propositioned, not in the changing room itself, where such approaches were heavily frowned on, but elsewhere on the premises such as the bar. He urged Sandro not to avoid the place, because unpleasantness was practically unheard of, but just to be aware that he might be approached. Sandro loved the facilities. The pool, the showers and the bar all seemed wonderful to him, and he decided to become a regular visitor, particularly during the summer when there were no undergraduates around.

Jon encouraged Sandro to go out on his own. He made sure that the boy had enough money to buy himself a meal in a pub or restaurant. They had already been several times together to the Venezia, Camford's only good Italian restaurant, and Sandro knew that he could talk to the waiters and waitresses in his own language. Jon took Sandro to one or two concerts, but such events were not numerous in Camford in August and September.

One of Sandro's favourite walks was to go with his uncle along the Camwell towpath to a pub called the Carp at Stubbington. Sometimes Sandro would go there on his own and drink a beer and eat a jacket potato or a pork pie or a Scotch egg, all new and unfamiliar items of diet. Jon's slight pressure on the boy to persevere with English cask beer had been successful, and Sandro now after a month enjoyed bitter, mild and pale ales, and the bitterness which had initially deterred him he soon came to realize was what gave beer its essential thirst-quenching qualities.

One day at the Carp, he met a couple of girls as he sat in the garden eating his lunch. They were quite attractive, and he eyed them up appreciatively. The girls noticed his glances, and one of them came over and asked him if he would like to join them. He did so, and asked them if they would like a further drink. They said yes, and a few minutes later, he emerged from the pub carrying the drinks on a tray. In contrast to Tom's struggles, in a month Sandro had adjusted to speaking and thinking in English, and the half-hour pre-bedtime conversations in Italian with Jon had now ceased by mutual agreement.

The girls were not English: one was oriental, the other from the Czech Republic. A few minutes conversation revealed that they were on an English language course prior to beginning their University studies in the Martinmas term. Sandro enquired which colleges they were going to. The oriental girl, who was from Thailand, said that she was going to Boni's to read law, the Czech girl was going to Shrewsbury College to read agricultural science. In the course of conversation it became clear to all three of them that they could all speak English pretty well.

Sandro asked them how they had got to the Carp and they said on the bus. He asked them if they would like to walk back with him along the towpath to the centre of the city. They agreed, so when they had all finished their drinks they drifted slowly back in the direction of Camford. It was about 4 pm when they got back and Sandro asked them if they would like afternoon tea. They agreed and entered a teashop. He ordered tea and cakes for three. In the course of conversation, it emerged that the next day was the girls' free day from the language school. As they did not yet have university E-mail addresses, they exchanged mobile phone numbers and arranged to meet the next day to explore Camford.

It was a warm summer day, and they met at about 10 am. Sandro suggested that they hired a punt before lunch and the big invasion of tourists that rather spoilt the city in the summer. They did so, and Sandro took them through the winding waterways and along the river Camwell until they reached a riverside pub, where they stopped briefly to purchase a few bottles and sandwiches before continuing their voyage. The girls loved it. They tied the boat to its pole jammed firmly in the mud and climbed out into a waterside meadow, where they ate their sandwiches and drank white wine out of a screwtop bottle in paper cups. Sandro had an allowance from his parents and another one from his uncles, and although the latter was not enough to live on, it made excellent spending money. After lunch, they slowly made their way back into the city, paid their hire at the boathouse, and explored a few of the colleges. They also went into the splendid fifteenth-century University Church of Saint Edward. Then they had tea in the 'Stainless-steel Kettle' a teahouse in the High Street. They bade farewell, and Sandro told them he would see them when term began. He had realized that you don't date two girls at once.

Next day he started making regular visits to the Men's Fitness Centre. Like his uncles and cousins, he was a swimming enthusiast and thought nothing of swimming 40 lengths of the 25-metre pool. At his first two or three visits, when he bought a beer at the bar, he was asked to show his membership card, but after that the bar staff got to know him by sight. He wondered how long it would be before some old queen asked to buy him a drink, but it did not happen. He looked with great interest at the other men in the changing room, and was relieved that he never saw anyone so attractive that he got an erection. He was genuinely and fairly objectively trying to establish his sexual orientation, but so far neither males nor females created any physical excitement. So he decided just to concentrate on enjoying himself and wait until something happened.

Chapter Five: Mediterranean Tom

Tom Appleton heaved himself out of bed. Luke was already up, out of the bathroom and dressed. Tom staggered into the bathroom, pissed copiously into the toilet, farted noisily and began to shave. They ate breakfast together, the sweet face of his partner smiling at him across the table causing a wave of love and tenderness to sweep over Tom. He got up from the table, walked round it and threw his arms round Luke and kissed him goodbye. He then set off to the lab. Luke did not start work until 10 am, and it was only a five-minute tram ride to the Teatro Musicale.

Tom had finally, after six months, adjusted to life in Italy. It had taken that long to become able to speak Italian all the time. The final seal of approval of his linguistic skills had come from Massimo, who said that he had never known an Englishman learn good Italian so quickly. Tom even felt confident enough to ask questions in Italian at the Departmental seminars in his lab. He could now understand the crude jokes of some of the other research students. It had been a hard struggle for six months, but now he finally felt at home in Italy. He found that Italian Ph.D. students had a very low status, because they were at the bottom of the research workers' pecking order. Even the technicians had a higher status, because they had permanent jobs, and research students, even with a Masters degree, were only there for maximally four years.

During that first six months, Tom had been heavily emotionally dependent on Luke. Luke was his haven of security in a strange land. Every night Tom came home hungry for his partner. To re-establish his security to face another day without speaking English, Tom had to have a minimum of ten minutes lovemaking every night. Of course this did not necessarily involve fucking or even sucking. Kissing and cuddling were often sufficient to restore Tom's self-confidence. Fortunately, Luke understood Tom's insecurity, and in any case enjoyed his stud-boy's attention. The effect on Tom was very noticeable. His self-confidence steadily increased. On the nights when Luke wanted to fuck him, Tom would lie back and relax and enjoy the sensation of Luke's monster cock inside him. Just as an anxious or unhappy teenage boy finds consolation and release in wanking, Tom found it in fucking. It didn't matter whether he was at the giving or the receiving end, the transfer of seed and the emotional as well as physical union, made sexual intercourse a source of emotional strength as well as of joy and pleasure.

There were no other English people in the lab. The only foreigners were a Dutchman, a German and an American, all postdocs. They welcomed him with open arms, as they found the Italian 'siesta mentality' very annoying. They wanted to leave the lab at 5 or 6 pm, when the others were just getting into their stride with the afternoon's work. In this respect however, Tom was happy with the Italian system, because Luke worked until 11 pm at least four nights a week, always including Saturdays, during the opera season, which covered eight months of the year, and he could lunch in the canteen or in a student restaurant and spend the evening in the lab, where there was much less obsession with security than in Camford. Then he would meet Luke for a light supper before bed.

On Saturdays, Luke did not start work until 5 pm. The best swimming pool was on the outskirts of the city and needed a car journey to get there. Tom sometimes went there by himself during what the boys called the siesta period, the long Italian lunch-break. They usually went there together on a Saturday morning before breakfast. Tom readily adapted to Italian food, and found it was good for him. He also took up jogging, as the town was too big to travel on foot, and he needed more exercise than their limited swimming time allowed. There was a large park in the centre of Trabizona, which extended to the outskirts of the city on the eastern side. He usually went jogging there three times a week with the American postdoc, who was a nice friendly guy, and this was the only time during the week that Tom spoke English! After jogging, they usually had breakfast in a trattoria before going home for a quick shower before work. All this meant that on jogging days, Tom had to get up at 6-30 am, which was a struggle for him, as he had always been bad at getting up in a morning.