One for the Team Ch. 01

"What do you think you are doing?" the gruff voice came from behind Charles and startled him out of his reverie.

He turned so quickly that he almost stumbled and felt a little guilty and embarrassed even though he had no reason to. Standing there looking overly-confident with a sneer on his face was a young man who was obviously an upper houseman. He projected a sense of arrogance and self-assuredness that came from knowing he was incredibly handsome and intelligent. One tail of his shirt was untucked, his tie loosened and a little askew, his expensive black brogues were scuffed but despite this the young man had a casual sense of style that made the dreary college uniform look dapper. His sandy French-cut hair was too long to be regulation, dipping over his collar at the back and a sweeping fringe that accented his deep blue eyes.

"I'm to join Bridge House and I just wanted to see what our common room looks like," Charles answered as confidently as he could.

"Robert Fellows, housemaster of Bridge House," the young man extended his hand and offered a smile that could have graced the cover of a fashion magazine.

Charles smiled back; relieved that his housemaster was a pleasant friendly chap. He offered his own hand and Robert took it in a firm grip and shook it.

"Charles Ward sir, pleased to meet you," Charles returned the smile.

When Charles tried to take back his hand Robert held it tight, and then tighter still, squeezing it until it began to hurt. The smile on Robert's face reverted back to the sneer with which Charles had originally been greeted. Robert crushed Charles' hand and pulled him closer so that Robert was towering over him.

"You little snot! You're not a Bridge houseman until I induct you and the common room is off limits to lower housemen unless they are invited or summoned. Do you understand you little faggot?" Robert released Charles hand and he fell back against the wall.

"Taking a rip on your very first day; not a very auspicious start young Mister Ward," Robert pulled a white card out of his blazer pocket.

He wrote something on it using a Mont Blanc fountain pen, holding the cap between his teeth while he scribbled, and then handed it Charles.

A 'rip' was issued for sub-standard work or a breach of school or house rules and must be submitted to the boy's housemaster for signature. Young men who accumulated too many rips are liable to be given a 'White Badge' which they have to wear displayed prominently at all times. A houseman wearing a white badge is considered in disgrace and can be called upon at any time to do extra work, chores or run errands for the upper housemen until they have 'paid off their rips' only when agreed to by a meeting of the House council.

"Here; take this and fuck off. I'll be keeping an eye on you Mister Ward," Robert walked casually away.

"Fuck!" Charles stuffed the rip into his pocket.

"What an archaic and demeaning way to run a school," Charles huffed and hurried away back to his dorm.

This was one of the rub points between Charles and his father when his father had directed that he attend Chelmsford Private College. Although the college curriculum was very progressive, the rules and regulations hadn't changed since the early nineteen hundreds.

Charles sought sanctuary in his room, carefully locking and bolting the door. He took a bath, shaved the few fine hairs from his soft cheeks and bought down the suitcase in which Charlotte resided. He took solace spending the rest of the afternoon and evening as Charlotte. Although she was confined to her room it was wonderful just to allow her out after being locked away for so long.

*****

On Monday morning Charles was ravenous and he quickly dressed, checking himself carefully in the mirror before he left his dorm to make his way to the dining hall. Breakfast was served between six and seven thirty in the morning and was the only informal meal of the day. Lunch and dinner were taken together by the students and faculty and were formal affairs, especially dinner.

Charles stood in line at the servery and was plated a hearty breakfast by a plump, pretty matron with a pleasant disposition whom he would come to know as Mrs Figgis.

"Get that inside you lad, you're going to need all your energy over the coming days but you'll soon get used to the school. The freshmen are sitting at those tables over there until they are inducted into their House," Mrs Figgis waved his plate towards a line of tables where groups of new students were eating breakfast and chattering away.

Charles found a seat by himself and began to scoff down his breakfast between slurps of hot tea served in a large mug. He felt self-conscious sitting by himself and was very aware that he was the most diminutive of all the young men sitting at the table. That was until a scrawny young man in an ill-fitting uniform approached and asked to sit beside him.

"May I?" the youth nodded at the chair beside Charles who nodded his consent.

The young man's plate was filled to overflowing with a good old English fry-up and Charles wondered where the lank young man was going to put all that food.

"William Larkin," the boy muttered around a mouthful of sausage and egg, he rubbed his hands together and offered Charles a hand.

"Charles Ward," Charles offered his hand in return.

Over breakfast Charles learned that William Larkin was one of the few scholarship students at the college and was also to be assigned to Bridge House; William had been selected for the soccer team and claimed to be an excellent goalkeeper. They had several classes together and struck up a loose friendship. This was the antithesis of Charles' usual behaviour as he was a loner and seldom made friends easily but there was something about William's demeanour that Charles liked.

After breakfast they made their way to the Grand Hall where around one hundred freshmen had gathered for induction. The Headmaster, one Francis Lister, introduced himself and droned on about the history of the college and repeatedly reminded the young men that they were indeed privileged to be at a university that has kept the traditions of the past unlike the modern universities that had become coeducational and lax in their discipline.

After the introductory speech the young men were directed to follow their timetables which had them attending their academic classes in order to meet their tutors, receive an introduction to their subjects and collect their text books. The next day they were to meet on the sporting fields. The inductees soon discovered that except for those who were exceptional at a particular sport, none of the lower housemen had been assigned their preferred sport. It would be character-building to play a new sport to which they were unaccustomed it was explained.

Charles' was not surprised to discover that Robert Fellows was Captain of the rugby team. He initially divided the young men by their size, assigning the larger boys the roles of forwards and handed them off to the Vice Captain to begin training and be assigned their on-field positions.

"Righto you lot, let's see what you can do," he growled at the remaining slender lads.

They were put through a series of sprints and then made to run a zigzag course through cones placed on the field to test their agility. He split them up into twos and had them run up and down the field passing and receiving the ball. Charles' failed to partner-up because of the odd number of backs and his reluctance to participate.

"Righto snotty; looks like you're with me," he threw the rugby ball at Charles, who to his own surprise caught it.

Robert ran Charles ragged but he managed to keep up; all those years of cross country running paid off. He fumbled the ball a few times but soon became adept at catching and passing the ball once he got used to the shape and feel of it. Charles was feeling quite chuffed until they began tackling practice.

"Righto snotty, you're up first. Don't let anyone get past you," Robert ordered.

Charles had to meet a succession of players head on and tackle them which began to take a toll on his stamina and his body. Charles began to miss tackles and Robert continued to deride him, screaming at him that he was useless every time an attacker got through his defence.

"Righto, you little shit. I'm coming at you full belt heading for that try-line and if I get past you, there will be hell," Robert expertly kicked the ball downfield, ran under it and caught it.

He turned and ran at Charles at full speed and Charles steadied himself to make the tackle. Just before Robert was level with Charles he jinked right and Charles dived to stop him. He smiled to himself the instant that he got his hands around Robert's waist and used all his force to try to drag him to the ground. Robert tried to fend Charles off and Charlie's hands slid down to Robert's knees, who then squirmed sideways to break the tackle. Charles hands slipped down to Robert's ankles but he hung on and Robert fell to the ground with Charles following but still holding on. The tackle had been made and Charles was pleased with himself until he realised that as Robert had been bought down he had managed to reach out one-handed and ground the ball over the try-line.

Robert got up with a smug grin on his face and came over to Charles and offered him his hand to help him up. Charles put out his hand and Robert pulled him to his feet.

"Not a bad effort," Robert smiled at him and tousled his hair.

Charles smiled back and was rewarded by Robert putting his leg behind Charles and then pushing him in the chest so that he fell heavily to the ground.

"But not good enough you plonker; if that happened in a game it could have been the match winning try you just let through," he kicked Charles in the shin.

"Now get up and give me fifty and fifty."

Fifty and fifty was fifty push-ups and fifty laps of the rugby field.

Robert called the team together and gave them a pep talk while Charles began his push-ups. The team left the field leaving Charles to complete his fifty and fifty by himself. Finally, exhausted, he hobbled back to the deserted change rooms to find that Robert had written him a rip and put it in his kit bag.

That evening after dinner, the freshmen were to be inducted into their Houses. The lower housemen were directed to report to their House common rooms dressed in shorts and t-shirts and to bring a towel and spare pair of shorts.

Charles and the twenty or so pledgelings lined up outside the door to Bridge House common room and were summoned in one at a time. The floor had been cleared and the housemaster sat on a throne-like chair at the front of the room surrounded by the upper housemen who were wearing their House jumpers and football shorts.

The pledgelings entered one at a time recited the House pledge and were then sent to kneel on the hard wooden floor. What followed was a series activities involving harassment, abuse or humiliation. Each of the pledgelings was ordered to lower their pants and received a paddling on their buttocks and then they were offered a mug of vile liquid that they had to drink and keep down. They were pelted with eggs and rotten food which they had to lick off the floor. Some of the pledgelings including Charles became sick and were made to lick that up as well. Charles and William stuck together through the hazing, giving each other moral support.

After further abuse the pledgelings had to clean up the mess the upper housemen had made and when the floor was spotless they were led outside, stripped naked and hosed off with cold water. They towelled off and put on their clean shorts.

The pledgelings were paraded back inside the common room and lined up before housemaster to be assigned an upper houseman for whom they would be indebted to fag. Charles was mortified when he was assigned to the housemaster Robert Fellows who grinned at him evilly when the announcement was made.

After the announcements the atmosphere changed completely. The lower housemen were issued with their house jumpers and two of them were ordered to roll in a barrel of beer from the pantry whilst the rest of them rolled out the carpets and rearranged the furniture. Then the drinking began.

Drinking on campus was only allowed in the house common rooms and on special occasions in the dining hall but most of the upper housemen kept a bottle in their dorms. The newly indicted lower housemen were directed to fill and keep refilling the glasses of upper housemen to which they were committed to fag. They were expected to match the consumption of their seniors and a bout of binge drinking ensued.

The lower housemen did not sit with the upper housemen of course, they were confined to the back of the room but had to keep an eye on their elders and ensure that their glasses were refilled with alacrity.

Charles and William sat together drinking ale and chatting, bounding away to refill the glasses of the upper housemen when required to do so. As the ale flowed the upper and lower housemen began to mingle, singing the house anthem and bawdy rugby songs. Lubricated with alcohol there was almost a sense of friendship developing.

Near the end of the evening Robert Fellows drunkenly put his arm around Charles and pulled him close.

"Do you know why I selected you to be my fag?" he muttered almost incoherently.

Charles shook his head.

"Because I think you are going to make a good winger or half back on the rugby field. I have checked your academic records and you performed exceptionally well on your A-levels," Robert burped.

He pulled Charles even closer and whispered in his ear.

"Also... I know your secret you little princess."

Charles paled and passed out.

To be continued