Tom and Luke's Third Year Pt. 02

[Pt. 01 should be read first]

Chapter Eight

Awakening

On the fourth night after our arrival, and a week after he had been rescued from the rubble, I was taking my second turn overnight with him and early in the grey morning about 5-30 am, Luke stirred. At once I rang for a nurse and held his hand. I squeezed it, and there was a response. His eyelids flickered and then opened and he smiled. "Tom!" he murmured, and he closed his eyes again. I sighed in relief: at least he had recognized me. When the nurse came, I did my best to explain that Luke had opened his eyes, but as she spoke no English, it was difficult. She felt his pulse and nodded approvingly. At 8 am, David came and I told him what had happened, and he explained it to the nurses. An hour or two later, after I had gone back to the hotel to get some sleep, Luke awakened fully and talked to David, who had been holding his hand. He told David that he had dreamt about me. David told him that it was not a dream, that indeed I had sat at his bedside all night.

At 2 pm David called me at the hotel on my mobile and as intended, it woke me up. When I heard that Luke was conscious, I rushed off to the hospital after a hasty wash, without eating or shaving. When I got there, the doctors had been to see him, and his mother and Pop were also there. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and I knelt down beside the bed and kissed him gently. He struggled into a sitting position, and said that the doctors needed to carry out more tests, particularly CT and MRI scans, but these were not expected to take more than a couple of days, during which time, he would be given food and got properly on to his feet. It was arranged that I would stay and hold Luke's hand for a few hours and the others would then come and collect me for a celebratory meal. It was bliss, just to sit there holding his hand as he lay there smiling lovingly at me. A wave of tenderness seemed to engulf me, and the heavy feeling of the last few days vanished. "Pass me my phone, my sweet," he said. "I must ring the boys at the apartment and tell them what's happened to me. Fortunately the rent was paid in advance!"

We were taken by Tom's mother to an excellent small restaurant. We knew that even if no damage was found, Tom would need a couple of weeks to recover after discharge from the hospital. David and Jon wanted to take him back to England, but his mother said no, she would look after him and make sure that he was well enough before returning to his studies. We finally agreed that Jon and David, who had jobs to do, would go back home after Luke's test results had been established and he was discharged from hospital, and I would accompany him back to his mother's house, stay for a couple of days and see him settled there, before returning to Camford.

When I went back to the hospital to see Luke, an attractive girl with dark hair was sitting at his bedside, talking animatedly in Italian. In spite of her presence, I put my arms round Luke and kissed him, to show her that he belonged to me. Luke introduced me to Leonora and we had a halting conversation in English. She seemed very glad to discover that Luke was OK, and I couldn't help wondering if she was attracted to him. However, I knew my boy well enough to know that she would never take him from me. I felt no jealousy at all.

No damage to the brain or any of the surrounding tissues was found, cognitive tests showed no mental impairment, and two days later Massimo came to collect us in his car and take us home with him. I was given a bed in the same room as Luke and we had a blissful hour or two kissing and cuddling. I refused to allow him to do any energetic sex, rest was essential for him. Just to hold his hand and kiss him was enough. My darling boy had come back from a near-death experience. He had no memory whatsoever of how he came to be in the suburban building in which he had been found. The last thing he could remember before the earthquake was attending a lecture, but everything after that was blank until he woke up momentarily in hospital to find me holding his hand. I E-mailed Colin Vaughan to say that Luke was on the mend, and I would be back in time for my tutorial the following Friday.

Luke's mother was very good, cooking us excellent meals, Sandro and Bianca kept him company when they were not at school, and after a couple of blissful days, I took a flight from Gugliemo-Marconi Airport to London-Gatwick, knowing that Luke would be well cared for during the next week or ten days. When I left for the airport, I did something entirely untypical. I embraced and kissed Luke's mother and thanked her for caring for the most important and most precious person in my life. Tearfully, I also thanked her for bringing him into the world.

Luke had brought a stack of reading with him, but I suspected that Sandro would get him spending most evenings kicking a football about. Luke had decided not to shave off his week-old beard, and when I had got used to it, I thought it rather suited him. Like his hair, it was wavy and black and velvety soft.

When I got back to Camford, I phoned my tutor Colin and asked him if the Dean would take any disciplinary action for my absence without leave. He said that he had already talked to the Dean and no action would be taken, as it was clearly compassionate leave. He also assured me that missing a few lectures should not be a problem. If I did have any difficulties, he would give me a special tuition session. He was so understanding, and such a contrast to the man who had tutored me in my first year. I E-mailed Professor Bairstow, told him about Luke, and asked for his prayers. Of course I also asked the Chaplain of Buckingham, Francis Eglantine to put Luke on the college prayer list. I even went into the college chapel and said a prayer of thanks for Luke's safe recovery. I E-mailed Cathy in Oxbridge, assuring her that her brother was safe and recovering rapidly in his mother's care

The second night back, I went to a concert in the Town Hall with Margaret, who was glad to see me back. She commented on how lively I was, and I explained that it was due to thankfulness that Luke had recovered so well from his accident. I even kissed her more passionately than I normally did, because I was very ebullient, although at the same time I had no desire to awaken anything deeper than friendship.

After ten days, Luke E-mailed me to say that he was back in Bologna and attending lectures and hoping there would soon be a new opera at the Teatro Communale, as he was looking forward to seeing Leonora again.

Chapter Nine

Exchange of E-mails II

From: l.c.singleton-scarborough@qqqqq.ac.uk to t.appleton@qqqqq.ac.uk

'My sweet darling boy

I went for a "clean weekend" with Leonora last Friday! Very moral, separate rooms at the hotel etc. It was by way of being a religious pilgrimage. We took the train to Orta-Miasino. Orta is a small village on the lake of the same name near Lake Maggiore. The place is famous for a spiritual walk or 'devotional itinerary' celebrating the life of Saint Francis of Assisi. In the late sixteenth century on a flat-topped hill, the Sacro Monte or Holy Hill, above the village they began to build a series of carefully planned and landscaped chapels, twenty in total, each devoted to an event in the life of Saint Francis. It took 200 years to build them all. The chapels contain both statues and murals showing Francis's history for the benefit of illiterate country folk. We spent the whole day going round this UNESCO World Heritage Site. We said a prayer at each chapel and ate a picnic lunch. I had made sure that I had my gay perfume on, but she did not seem to notice it.

I attach a photo of Chapel VI, depicting Francis sending the friars out to preach, with some of the statues. We dined in a little taverna in the evening, went to mass together on the Sunday and generally behaved like a pious engaged couple, except that bodily contact was limited to hand-holding! I hope that Leonora's vocation is a strong one, because she is so sweet and I would hate to be the person who destroyed it. It would be a disaster for both of us if she fell in love with me. Do you think I am playing with fire? We came back to Bologna on the Sunday night, and I saw her back to her apartment.

Fortunately from our point of view, my knowledge that I could never get an erection with a woman means that you can be quite secure in my faithfulness to you!

My precious lad, although I don't often talk to you about my faith, it means a great deal to me, and the opportunity of a spiritual weekend is of enormous value to me, and will be reflected in the way I behave to others, including you. I hope that Leonora also found it valuable spiritually. It would have been wonderful if you had been with me instead of Leonora, but it would have been a different and much less spiritual experience. I hope you understand that.

My wonderful man-partner, I love you,

Ever your own

Luca.' XXXXXX

From t.appleton@qqqqq.ac.uk to: l.c.singleton-scarborough@qqqqq.ac.uk

'My darling brown boy

STOP HOLDING LEONORA'S HAND! You ARE playing with fire. Every human being has to choose between relationships with a man, a woman or no relationship at all (on the physical level). To choose between a relationship with a person of the same sex and one of the opposite sex is a matter of balancing the two physical pulls. To choose between a sexual relationship and no sexual relationship is choosing between a positive and a negative as far as mind and body are concerned, and it requires a much smaller pull to go from a negative to a positive. You could say that it was nature abhoring a vacuum. So you are putting Leonora's vocation to celibacy to a very severe test, and her vocation could easily crumble. Unless you want to ruin her life you must talk to her about this. The worst-case scenario is that she falls in love with you and throws herself at you in the hope of saving you from a wicked perversion. That would destroy her life, and you would feel guilty for the rest of yours.

Put your cards on the table and say that company and friendship for a few months is all that you want, and stop holding her hand! It would be hard to say it in English, so I hope that you can manage it in Italian! I don't have the same problem, because in Sarah I have a jealous girlfriend watching every move that Margaret makes! I know little about religion, except that I asked God to bring you back to consciousness and He did, but I don't think that you believe in a God who is jealous of the relationships that His followers form with other human beings.

Term draws to an end, and apart from my five days with the choir in Austria, and our week in Nice, I will spend most of the Easter vac at Rockwell's Barn, revising for my Part I exams, and relaxing in the pool when I need exercise. I've not spent any weekends there this term. In a couple of weeks' time, we'll be together in Nice and I'm really looking forward to a good fuck. I love you so much. I wonder what lovemaking will be like with that beard of yours! If it gets in the way, I may have to ask you to shave it off.

My darling lover, I ache for the time when we can sleep together every night.

Your ever-loving

Tom.' XXXXX

From: l.c.singleton-scarborough@bqqqqq.ac.uk to t.appleton@qqqqq.ac.uk

'My darling Tom

Bologna University has a long Easter break, and I do not see any point in coming home, because you have exam revision to do and we will be seeing one another in Nice. So I took the liberty of phoning my long neglected Uncle Jeroen, in Geneva, whom you have never met. He works for a big Swiss engineering company and I am going to see him and his family for a few days, just before Easter.

In the meantime, I took your advice and talked to Leonora about our relationship. To my relief, she says that she is very content to accept that we can never have a romantic relationship. She said that having met you and heard that you had sat up all night with me when I was unconscious and seen the way that I looked at you, she knew that she could never come between us. She added that I could continue to hold her hand if I wanted to, because she knew that it was important for human beings, even monks and nuns, to have physical but non-sexual contact with other people. Moreover, she said that she did not consider sex between two men who loved one another to be sinful, only sex for the sake of sex, a viewpoint that I entirely agree with. I reckon that I have met a very untypical woman! When I told her that, she said that I was a very untypical man. But I guess that all human beings are to some extent untypical! That is one of the glories of God's creation.

She will make a good nun. To be a monk or nun, you do not have to hate or despise the world. Indeed, you have to love it, so that you are sacrificing something when you take the vows. Otherwise, you are simply running away from it. The same applies to celibacy. If you enter an order as a virgin, it makes it easier for you, because you do not know what you are giving up. But the reasons for entering a religious order are not because you like or enjoy poverty, chastity and obedience, or that you hate money, sex and the world, but because you love Jesus and want to put service of Him before all else.

I've not told my mother about Leonora yet. After all, I don't usually see Leonora at weekends. When I went with her to Orta, I think my mother thought I was at the English church in Bologna. I don't want Mamma to get the wrong idea. Am I the only man who is not interested in what women have between their legs? I have now just about got used to calling her Mamma, which is what Sandro and Bianca call her and I know that I now love her. I've also realized what I missed by not having a mother. She has been so sweet while she has been looking after me here. I know how much you loved your mother, and now I'm coming to realize that in some ways I missed out by being brought up by men. I'm also coming closer to understanding the complexities of her life. Like you, she has undergone a lot of hardship, which I'm scarcely in a position to understand, having led a comfortable life with lovely parents and you, my precious boy! But Massimo is a splendid husband, and fully appreciates the sweet and intelligent woman who is his wife. The problem was that she did not meet him early enough. If she had, that idle philandering waster my biological father, would probably never have had his way with her. On the other hand, in that case neither Sandro nor myself would have been born! Of course, Massimo and Mamma might well have had a son and named him Alessandro, but he would not have been my brother Sandro.

So I leave by train for Geneva via Milan and the Simplon Tunnel on Monday. Not having a BlackBerry, and not wanting to lug a laptop with me, it may be a while before you get further E-mails from me, but I will try and phone you from Geneva.

My darling muscle-boy, I love you,

Your ever-loving boy

Luca.' XXXXXXX

From: l.c.singleton-scarborough@qqqqq.ac.uk to t.appleton@qqqqq.ac.uk

'My precious Tom

Well, I got safely to Geneva and Uncle Jeroen met me at the station. It's three or four years since I last met him, and it is only the third time that I have met my Aunt Liesbet, and she and my Uncle have been married for about twelve years. They are both great people and made me very welcome. They have two children, Andrew Johannes, aged ten and Maria Eva aged eight, who were also pleased to see me. Dad has always been specially fond of his little brother, but contact between them has involved mainly phone and E-mail since Dad became a professional singer and kept travelling all over Europe. He has not sung much in Switzerland. My little cousins are rather sweet: they speak both English and French, and preferred to talk to me in French. They even had me reading them a bedtime story in French!

Tom, I know it's not something that we have discussed, but I do hope that once we become partners you will want us to have children. But if you don't, I will still love you as much as ever. There are often career sacrifices to make if a couple of gays have children, just look at my parents.

Uncle Jeroen's family live in a suburb of Geneva, which is a lovely, if expensive city, though my personal religion does not warm to the home of Calvinism. We had some wonderful trips to various places like Lausanne and resorts on the Lake like Territet.

You may meet the children shortly. It seems that Jeroen's employer is moving Jeroen and family to Locarno in October, in the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland on Lake Maggiore, for a big engineering job lasting at least three years. They have the problem of the children's education. They are at present at French-speaking schools, and when they move to Locarno, they do not want to send the children to International or British schools: they want them to go to local schools, which means that they are going to have to learn Italian quickly. I telephoned Pop, and he suggested that the two children spend the first month of their summer holidays in July, at Rockwell's Barn, where he and I and hopefully sometimes Dad or Marcello, will give them a month of speaking only Italian! Maybe after your exams you could join them, and see if you can pick up some Italian in the couple of weeks after I get home. Children of that age who are bright (and these two certainly are) can pick up languages quickly, and Pop will give them some elementary grammar lessons in the afternoons, which you could sit in on.

I've just looked on the WWW, and have found your tour programme in Austria, and I see that Buckingham College Choir are singing in Innsbruck on Friday. I will see whether I can get there from here, and if I have enough clothes, I will stay and go on to Nice with you rather than returning to Bologna or to Mamma's. Maybe I need to buy a BlackBerry as well!

Well, it won't be long now before we are in bed together.

I love you, master man-fucker

Luca.' XXXXXXXX

Chapter Ten

Interval in Innsbruck

Luke turned up in Innsbruck as he had said, and checked in an hotel. Not knowing what the arrangements were, he turned up at the church where the performance was to be held, and managed to get a seat near the front. It was a big church, our choir was obscure, so there were no problems in getting in! We were half-way through our performance of Latin and English church music of the seventeenth century, of which the highlight was Händel's 'Dixit Dominus domino meo,' before I spotted him in the audience. Up to that point, our audiences had been moderately enthusiastic and that night was no exception. It was our last concert and when Luke joined us as we were getting ready to leave, everyone welcomed him.

We adjourned to the nearest hostelry to drink to our successful tour, we thanked the organ scholar for organizing it, and Luke bought us a round of drinks, it being his apology, as he put it, for missing the tour. All the choir were glad to welcome him back after his recovery. He told me, as our tour was now at an end, and I was planning to leave for France the following day, to go back to the Youth Hostel where we were staying, check that nothing was owing for my accommodation, pick up all my possessions and bags and come and join him at his hotel, where he had booked a double room.

The choir members had eaten before the concert, so when we got to the hotel, Luke had a simple meal sent up by room service, together with a bottle of Prosecco. Before we undressed, I threw my arms round him and inhaled the scent of Storing pour Homme that, though alone in Italy, he had worn religiously every day, and I began to kiss him hungrily. His beard felt soft and silky, though I was not sure if I liked the moustache. "Would you like me to feed you?" I asked with a grin.