There is quite a lot of straight sex in this episode. Feel free to skip any paragraphs in which you are not interested.
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Chapter Twelve
Eleanor's second year begins
Two weeks later, I was back in college beginning my second year. Hebrew was reduced to only one lecture course per week, and I started on New Testament studies, including NT Greek, ecclesiastical history and moral psychology. Martin had registered for an M.Litt. and was starting his study of Etruscan texts. Tommy had begun his teacher training. He was hoping to teach French, Latin or Italian up to A Level, or GCSE mathematics, at which he had always been rather good. Kenneth, their friend, had decided to reduce his musical activities, in an endeavour to get the major part of his Ph.D. work completed.
After our successful culinary operations in Arezzo, we decided to have an evening together each week at Tommy's home in Octavia Avenue, when Martin and I would cook a meal for the three of us. This inevitably meant that I would meet Tommy's parents, even though they usually arranged to dine in college on the nights that we wanted to cook! I instantly took a liking to the two men, who were now approaching sixty, and had been together for over thirty years. Like Tommy, they were religious, they were also kind, thoughtful, polite and easy to talk to. I was warned that one of them, the one called Jonathan, whom Tommy called Pop, the chemist, was rather uninhibited about farting, but he must have restrained himself when I was present, as I never heard any loud anal noises. His partner David, whom Tommy called Dad, was a retired opera singer who now taught singing.
They made me feel quite at home in their house, and never asked the boys or me any awkward questions about relationships. Their eldest son, Luke, more than ten years older than Tommy, had had a fag-hag when he was on his year abroad as a student, and his boyfriend Tom had had a lesbian fag-hag in Camford when Luke was in Italy. Luke's biological brother Sandro and his partner Lord Batley had had a fag-hag called Jennifer. The main role of these girls was to go to concerts with their men-friends. So the role of fag-hag was something that both of them understood, even though, Tommy told me, they had never had one themselves.
Towards the end of the Martinmas term, the three of us decided to invite David and Jonathan to join us for the meal that Martin and I were cooking. In the interests of simplicity, we decided to cook steak, but to make the dish more interesting, we cooked lots of interesting vegetables, including cauliflower, celeriac, and mange tout peas in addition to a madeira-wine sauce and a big helping of fries. Tommy had chosen a couple of bottles of Barolo from his parents' cellar.
Tommy's parents were impressed. "Who did all the work?" David asked, "Eleanor or Martin?"
"I did the vegetables and the dessert, and Martin did the steak, the sauce and the chips." The dessert was a fruit pie that had been baking in the oven all the time that the first course was being prepared, and for which I had even made the pastry.
During the meal, David told us that he was about to resume public singing on a very limited scale, with most performances during the university vacations. Previously his recitals had become quite rare events. "But I miss singing!" he said.
It was during the meal that I discovered that Tommy would be away from Camford for the whole of the Candlemas term. He would be on teaching practice in both primary and secondary schools all over Camfordshire and Ixfordshire. It struck me that this would give me the opportunity to get to know Martin better. But before that, I received an invitation from Tommy to come with Martin to spend Christmas at Ixton. I accepted on the understanding that I could leave in time to spend New Year at home in Winksey. Tommy then said to me, "I need to meet you before Christmas to rehearse the entertainment for the night of Boxing Day. You and I are going to play a duet on the piano at Rockwell's Barn. Then I'm going to accompany Dad in a couple of arias.
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas at Ixton I
Ixton turned out to be a small village about 100 km from Camford. It was clear that Tommy's fathers exerted a lot of influence in the village. They owned the pub, the Jellycotes Arms, and ensured that the village shop/post office received a subsidy sufficient to keep it open. They had even managed to ensure, thanks to the living being in the gift of Boni's, that they had a full-time resident vicar.
Although there was no squire and big house, their long-standing residency and generosity had ensured their popularity in the village, to the extent of them buying up residential property in the village and renting it to locals at affordable rates rather than letting it fall into the hands of wealthy commuters. David and Jonathan set the rentals at a level to cover costs and running repairs, such that they never made any money from the properties. The properties were managed by a local estate agent recommended to them by their financial manager and adviser, Tim Ingledown. Rockwell's Barn had once been a derelict agricultural building on the farm of the Rockwell family, with whom Jon and David still had close ties. Tommy told me that to avoid crippling inheritance taxes, Tim Ingledown was setting up a non-profit-making trust to administer the properties after the deaths of both Jon and David.
A few days before Christmas, I travelled by train from Winksey to Ixfordingworth, the nearest town to Ixton. Tommy met me at the station and quite spontaneously kissed me. I had two suitcases with me, because I had brought Christmas presents for the party at Rockwell's Barn. He then set off to drive the ten kilometres to Ixton. It was 3 pm, and dusk was showing signs of falling. To my surprise Tommy pulled into a side turning and stopped on the verge.
With hindsight, the conversation that followed seems almost surreal. He said to me, "Do you fancy Martin?" I nearly collapsed in amazement.
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
"You spend so much time with both of us, but we're both gay. Unless you're frigid and scared of sex, I can't see why you're doing it. If you're wanting sex, you're wasting your time with Martin. He could never get it up with a woman, even if he wanted to."
"But what about you? I bet that you could fuck a woman." Tommy blushed.
"That's not a very ladylike thing to say!"
"Answer my question! I'm not a ladylike woman. A man who's 100% gay would never kiss me spontaneously, like you did just now. Can't you see that it's YOU that I fancy?" And I put my arm round him and kissed him on the lips. I was aware that once again I was reversing traditional sex-roles and wooing, instead of being wooed.