by Alec Waugh
‘At lunch she looked up from her plate and said, “Seven.” My uncle looked surprised. “Seven what?” he asked.
‘“He knows, it’s our secret.”
‘The fact that we had this secret gaye me a delicious sense of intimacy. It made me feel grown up.
‘That evening when I went upstairs, she said, “Better have a bath.”
‘When she came up to say goodnight, she asked if I’d had one. “Yes.”
‘“That’s good. It won’t hurt so much. That means I can whip you harder. Lie down on your face now.” She slipped a pillow under me. As she did, her fingers lingered between my legs. The effect was instantaneous. She made the beating last as long as possible. She paused between each stroke. “Yes, that was hard, but the next one will be harder.”
‘It was. “That’ll leave a mark tomorrow.” She counted the strokes. “Six, now for the seventh and last.” It was as hard as she could hit. It hurt, but as the pain subsided, the glow returned. “Now for a little ointment.” The ointment was cool, her fingers soft. “You’ve been very brave,” she said. “I’ll give you a goodnight kiss.”
‘I had flirted with girls at children’s parties, but this was my first real kiss. Its effect was immmediate and electric. Her hand slipped down over my stomach. “Oh,” she said. Her fingers lingered. “Do you often get like this?” she asked.
‘“Now and again.”
‘“Does it worry you?”
‘“No.”
‘“It will one day. I’ll have to explain to you what to do about it. In the meantime …” She got up. She went over to the basin. She soaked my flannel in cold water. “This will cure that for now,” she said. Sure enough my rampancy subsided. “How old are you?” she asked.
‘“Thirteen.”
‘“In another year’s time that won’t be enough. Don’t worry. When the right time comes I’ll show you what to do.”
‘I spent a week or two with my uncle every holiday. Each time she found an excuse for whipping me. Always after whipping me, she kissed me, and always she subdued me with a cold damp flannel. During the Easter holiday before I went back for the last term at my prep, she said, “I shan’t be using this flannel again. Next holiday you’ll be too old for it. I’ll show you what to do instead. Next term, in your last week your headmaster will give all those who are leaving an address about the dangers that are awaiting you at Eton. I’ve an idea that you won’t understand what he is talking to you about. Don’t worry. I’ll explain it to you when you come here.”
‘She was quite right. The headmaster did give us an address and I had no idea what it was about. I remember him saying, “How can you ask some pure woman to be your wife if you’ve been a filthy beast at school?”
‘“Well, was it the way I said ?” That was the first thing she asked me when I arrived back for the summer holidays. I nodded. “And you didn’t understand a word of it?”
‘“Not very many.”
‘“Then I’ll have to show you tonight, practically.”
‘I could hardly wait for the day to end. I was now considered old enough to stay up for dinner. I was so excited that I completely lost my appetite. I could barely swallow a mouthful. “Not hungry?” she said. There was a conspiratorial flicker in her eyes. She did not keep me waiting long. She had brought up the birch, which when I left she always took back into her own room. “This is the last time we’ll be needing this,” she said. “You’re too big for this. You’re not a boy any longer. You’re about to be a man. It’s time to say goodbye to this. And this last time, it shall be as if you were a little boy, not on the bed, but across my knees, between them.” She was seated; I was standing in front of her. She undid my pyjama cord. As she lowered my pyjamas, her hand brushed against me. She opened her knees. She held me tight between them. She had hitched up her skirt. She was not wearing drawers. Her skin was very soft. “Bend over now,” she said. She struck once, twice, three times. Then she flung the birch across the room. “Goodbye to that,” she said. “Lie down.” She knelt across me, guiding me. It was … well, you don’t need telling what it was … the first time and with such a one … We lay beside each other, silent, recovering our breaths, then she began to talk.
‘“Now you know what your headmaster meant,” she said. “And now you can forget nearly everything he told you, except one thing; not at school, and not with other boys. Love-making is the loveliest thing in life; it will bring you all the happiness you can take; only you mustn’t spoil it. That’s what I’m going to teach you, how not to spoil it. I’m going to teach you everything, show you all the things that please you most and then, what is more important still, I’ll show you all the things that a woman enjoys most, because a man can’t really enjoy himself unless the woman is enjoying herself too. By the time you go to Eton, you’ll realise how ridiculous it is to make love with boys; it’ll seem so tame, so futile after what you’ve done with me. And now,” she said, “for the second lesson.”
‘There were many lessons during that long summer holiday; then there was the Christmas holidays, and at Easter she came to Charminster again. But that wasn’t all she taught me.
‘In the following summer, when I went to her home again, she welcomed me with the news that she had a pleasant surprise for me—a highly attractive young female was coming for the weekend.
‘“Why should that be a pleasant surprise?”
‘“I’ve an idea that you’ll attract each other.”
‘“But why should I want that, when you’re here?”
‘“Sooner or later you’ll have to do without me; you’ll have to find replacements; the sooner you start finding them the better. Mary should be a good start.”
‘“But …”
‘“There’s no ‘but’ about it. She’s coming for three nights. She’ll arrive on the Friday afternoon. Pay a great deal of attention to her. On the Saturday night go into her room. However that works out, it’ll be a start; then on the Sunday night, you should reap your harvest.”
‘“But …”
‘“No, no, listen now. Confidence is the great thing. Assume that she’ll do what you want. I’ve explained to you what women like; if she resists, persist. And here’s a useful tip for you …”
‘We were in bed together when she told me that. “Spread me out, spreadeagled, just like that. Yes. You’re on my right. Now lie on my right arm, with your full weight on it, -like that, you’re on your side; now with your right hand move my left arm above my head, it shouldn’t be difficult; now grasp my left wrist with your left hand; see what I mean ? I’m pinioned, my two arms helpless and your right hand is free. If you can’t do something with that right hand, you don’t deserve me. Got the idea, yes, I see you have. Yes, oh yes, oh yes …”
‘Whether it was a put-up job between the two of them, I’ve no idea; but it worked out. On the Monday morning when Mary left, my aunt patted me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Mary was impressed. You’re a good pupil.”
‘That evening my aunt talked to me long into the night.
‘“So much of your happiness in life is going to depend on women, and so many men don’t get the full amount of the happiness that they’ve a right to; women are ready to give happiness; never forget that. It’s their pride and privilege; they bring life into the world, they want life to be enjoyed. It’s a safe assumption that if a woman attracts you, you attract her; there’s an instinctive reciprocity. It’s like safety matches striking on certain boxes. If you want to make love to a woman, it’s probable that she will want you to. But she needs to have her mind made up for her. Make it as easy for her as possible; make it easier for her to say ‘yes’ than ‘no’. Take it for granted that she’ll say ‘yes’. Take her for granted when it comes to that. It’s what she wants herself, provided that you attract each other; and that’s something that you ought to know instinctively, and now,” she said, “you’ve had a busy weekend. You need a rest. I’ll come back —tomorrow … Oh, well, perhaps you don’t
need a rest all that much … no, well, well yes, I see … oh well …”
‘Later, quite a little later, she was to say, “But tomorrow I really must insist that you have a rest. On Wednesday well, I’ve one last lesson foryou. I won’t say it’s very necessary; it’s not something that I’d recommend, that I myself set much store by, but … well, your education has to be complete. I don’t want one day to have some sultry catamite offering you a pleasure that you’ve not had from me … my pride forbids it … For you, I have to be the works.”
‘So you see,’ Raymond concluded, ‘why I don’t find it easy to enter imaginatively into this particular problem of Timothy Alexander’s.’
It was the first time in over thirty years that Raymond had talked about himself to me. It explained a lot in him that had puzzled both me and the various women with whom he had been involved. I compared his amatory education with that of the majority of his contemporaries as Evelyn has described it in A Little Learning. I thought of all the strain and worry that had been caused to my generation by misinformation and prejudice on those issues.
‘You were very lucky,’ I said to Raymond. ‘You should be very grateful to that aunt.’
‘I suppose I am. I suppose I should be. I usually think I am, but sometimes I wonder whether everything was not made too easy for me. I took it all for granted; and by doing that I went for the things that could be taken for granted. I’ve asked myself whether the most valuable things cannot be taken that way. That they have to be earned. I wonder. I often ask myself.’
14
Timothy Alexander was travelling out by the French line’s Colombie. She was due to drop anchor at night, at half-past ten. ‘In one way the worst time to land. In another way the best,’ said Raymond. ‘No question of getting anything said that first night. One drink and then to bed. It’ll probably be raining, too.’
It was. A steady downpour, not a wave of showers. But that did not deter Raymond from going out in a lighter. ‘Mustn’t miss a chance of getting a better glass of champagne than we can at Overdale. I signalled the purser, at Guadeloupe, to ensure that there’d a magnum upon ice.’
Raymond was resolved to make it an occasion. We sat in the small bar where I have spent many cosy hours.
‘This is a big day for me,’ Raymond told the venerable white-haired barman with the air of a Russian emigré. ‘You may not believe it, but this is my son’s first visit to my island. Up to now something’s always intervened. Lack of an airport, that’s been the trouble here. Still is.’
Timothy Alexander caught his mood. ‘You can think what it means to me. I’ve seen so many films, so many photographs. I’ve dreamed of my first sight of Dominica, and now that the great day’s come, I can’t see a thing.’
His father laughed. ‘In the dark and in the rain. Typical Dominica. You wait till you see it in the morning.’
The rain and the wind were beating so hard against the car that conversation was difficult on the drive to Overdale. ‘Is the old man worried about your leaving?’ Raymond asked. That was the sole reference to the situation.
‘He hasn’t really grasped it. “Wars interfere with all my plans.” That’s all he said.’
It was midnight before we arrived. ‘What’ll it be?’ asked Raymond. ‘The wine of the country as a nightcap?’
Timothy Alexander shook his head. ‘Bed right away for me.’
‘Very wise. But may I recommend a glass of coconut water: clean and refreshing, good for the kidneys. Marie, a jelly nut,’ he called to the girl who was waiting up for us, ‘and take a glass to my son in his room. Breakfast at half-past eight. But don’t set an alarm clock. Sleep right on.’
‘I will.’
But when I came on to the verandah at six next morning, I found him already there, stretched out on a long chair, in his dressing gown. ‘I can’t get used to this change of time,’ he said. ‘The clock going back an hour every other night. I’ve been waking up earlier every morning and dropping off to sleep directly after dinner.’
‘How well I know that, it’s the same with me.’
I sat beside him. I was impatient to get to my desk. An habitually early riser, I like to get an hour’s writing finished before breakfast, but I could not leave him alone on such a morning. There was something I ought to say. I wondered what, and I felt ill at ease. He smiled. ‘This’ll make you laugh,’ he said.
‘What will?’
‘What I’m going to tell you. Do you know how I got found out?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Through that water-writing trick of yours. I used it for my notes to him. He was so amused by it, that he showed them all round his house.’ Timothy Alexander was right. I did laugh at that. And our laughter removed embarrassment. The day before there had seemed so much to say. Now there seemed nothing at all.
‘This is a lovely place,’ he said. ‘I’m not surprised that the old boy’s sold on it.’
It was a bright sunlit morning. ‘When after the rain and with never a stain, the pavilion of heaven lies bare,’ I quoted.
We sat in silence. A couple of humming birds darted from bush to bush. The air was full of sounds and scents. ‘Do you think you’ll care for this place as much as your father does ?’ I asked.
‘Not as much, but I shall care.’
There was another pause. But not an awkward one. He was someone with whom it was possible to be silent; once one had got on friendly terms with him.
‘Charminster’s my home,’ he said. Tt always has been and it always will be. It never has been for the old man. He’s never belonged there. As a boy he thought of it as somewhere that he’d have to leave some day. He wouldn’t let himself become attached. Now it’s too late. His heart’s here.’
‘What are your immediate plans ?’
‘To do my military service right away.’
‘I think that’s wise.’
‘I’ve done a lot of thinking on the journey out.’
‘Half of my plots have come to me on liners.’
‘I hope that my plans will work out as well as yours. In the first place I’ve decided not to put in for a commission.’
‘What?’
‘I thought that might surprise you.’
‘It astounds me. Why?’
‘I’ll learn how the other half lives. I’ll never have such another chance.’
‘Do you think you’ll like it?’
‘I’m not worrying about that. Within a very little while I shall be cut off from the other half by that handle to my name. If I don’t take this chance, I won’t get another.’
‘Do you think there’s all that difference nowadays between the one half and the other?’
‘That’s what I want to see. I suspect there is. But I don’t know. If there is a difference, I want to learn what it is. There’s another thing too. I want to see how I come out when I’m in competition with the other half, on equal terms. Shall I get promoted ? Shall I finish up as a sergeant or only an unpaid lance-corporal? You see that, don’t you?’
‘I see that.’
‘Another thing too, I’m not going up to Oxford. Harvard instead. A degree in business administration. Iris is there, remember. She’ll be the greatest help. As a private soldier, I’d learn about the other half, socially; by going to Harvard I’d learn what the new world’s like.’
‘Not thinking of becoming an American ?’
‘Heavens no, I’m planning to fit myself to make the most effective use of the opportunities that I’ll get through Charminster.’
‘Do you think you’ll make a better use of those opportunities this way than by becoming an ensign in the grenadiers, getting a blue at Oxford and a first in law?’
‘Under these changed conditions, yes. If everything had gone conventionally, I’d have done my best to fit into the accepted pattern, but owing to this—what shall I call it?’
‘Piece of bad luck.’
‘That’s charitable, yes; it was bad luck, but it’s effect has been
catastrophic. It’s broken the pattern. Being Captain at Lord’s was part of that pattern; an essential part of it. Without that captaincy the pattern would be incomplete. I’d rather start a whole new pattern.’
I shook my head. ‘Think again,’ I said. ‘Look ahead six years. You’ll be twenty-four. You’ll have had your military service. A commission in the Guards. You’ll have had your four years at Oxford. You’ll have got your blue. You should get a good degree, and be in exactly the same position as if you hadn’t had this bad luck.’
‘The bad boy who made good, in fact.’
‘If you care to put it that way, but I don’t think I should.’
‘It’s what it amounts to, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘It’s a rôle I prefer not to fill. I’d rather find myself going into competition with my contemporaries with a different equipment altogether. Eventually, in some way or another, I’ll be in charge of personnel. I believe I’ll be better at that by having seen the problems of the less fortunately placed through having shared them. And when I go into business, in London, I believe I’ll handle situations better through having seen London’s problems through transatlantic eyes.’
‘What kind of business do you have in mind ?’
‘I’ll know when the time comes. It won’t be in one of the professions, that’s all I know.’
He checked, then smiled. It was a very winning smile, rather like his father’s. It contained both modesty and confidence. ‘I’m being very vague, but all this is very new to me. It’s been quite a shock, you know: when I came home at the end of the half at Christmas, everything seemed cut and dried. I was starting on the final lap of the race that had been planned for me since the day I was born. Everything was going according to plan. Then everything fell apart. It wasn’t till I got on that ship that I began to think. But of course you see that.’
I nodded. ‘And the great thing is,’ I said, ‘that you don’t have to make an irrevocable decision now. You can see how you like the Army, before you decide to stay in the ranks for your whole service.’
