Out of Bounds

by Mike Seabrook

  Page looked steadily at him for a few strides as they ran. “You’re letting me down mighty lightly, lad”, he observed. “I shan’t forget it. And you’re half right, but I’m glad to say you’re half wrong too. I said, there’s a lot of schoolmasters are gay, and it generally does no harm. You get the odd one that does a lot of damage — monkeying with little boys and so on — but most of ’em are as honourable and decent as anybody else. Graham Curtis is a friend of mine, and a damn good friend. You can take it from me, I’ll do my utmost to set things straight with him.” He slowed to a halt in the middle of the sunny woodland ride and turned to face Stephen, who obediently stopped beside him.

  “It’s damned lucky, you know”, he said, and paused awkwardly.

  “What is, sir?” prompted Stephen after a wait.

  “Several things”, said Page. “First that we had this silly fatigue fixed up. I’m glad you lot played like dummies yesterday, on that account, at least. Lucky too that you’re the lad you are, and decided to waylay me there and have it out with me. There’s not many would’ve had the pluck to do that, and there’s fewer still would’ve had enough decency to think about what this would do to Graham first, and of themselves second. He’s lucky in his friend, and I’ll tell him so when I go and throw myself on his mercy. That’s it, really, Stephen, except that I’d like to count myself a friend of someone who makes as good a friend as you do. If I may?” And, somewhat to Stephen’s surprise, he put out his hand. Stephen shook it willingly enough, feeling faintly embarrassed but on the whole very pleased with the way the day had started.

  “And now, if you’ll allow me to, I’d like to leave you”, said Page. “I’ve got a lot to think about, and I’d… I’d like to be alone while I think about it, if it’s okay by you.”

  “Of course, sir”, Stephen said, nodding.

  “You know your way back from here all right, do you?”

  “Oh, yes, sir, I think so. If I go straight on through this lot of woods I come to the main path just the school side of Bewick’s Hill, don’t I?”

  “That’s right. Well, Stephen, I’m glad you had what it takes to face me out like that, as I said. And thanks for letting me off as lightly as you have.” He turned away and set off, but after a few paces he stopped and came back. “You know what? I’d clean forgotten about the others, poor little sods. If you see ’em before I do, tell ’em the punishment’s cancelled. That’ll please ’em no end, I should imagine”, he added with a wry grin, “after they’ve done fifteen for me.”

  “Maybe you could owe them a punishment, sir”, suggested Stephen, beginning to feel happy for the first time since the dread moments behind the pavilion the previous evening. “You know, the next time you think they ought to run fifteen for you, you could let this one count against it.”

  Page looked quizzically at him. “Owing a punishment? Never heard of such a thing. But since I owe you, young Master Stephen, I’ll do it. Okay, lad. I’ll see you later, and we’ll see you in the First Fifteen, too. Courage — first quality you look for in a rugby player. You’ve got it.” He turned and ran off again at a hard, relentless pace, chuckling. This time he didn’t turn back. As he came to a bend in the ride several hundred yards ahead of Stephen jogging easily along behind him, he turned briefly and waved a hand, and passed out of sight.

  * * *

  “So that’s how it all happened”, Jack Page explained, sitting on Graham’s sofa and playing a little nervously with the cricket bat mallet. “And I’d never have realized what a frightful thing I was doing if that boy hadn’t had the pluck to come and face me down with it. A damn good boy, that one. Strong sense of honour, too — I could see a mile off it was you he was thinking of first, and himself only second. Worried about you losing your job, he was.”

  “Well, I’m only too glad to have got it sorted out”, said Graham. “I’ll have a word in Colin bloody Preston’s ear, when I see him, but I’ll have him collapsed like a deflated gas-bag without any trouble.”

  “I was thinking I’d have a word or so with him myself’, said Page, draining the beer Graham had offered him and getting up to go. “Won’t do any harm at all, that I can see, if he gets an earful from the villain of the piece and the victim, don’t you think?”

  Graham nodded. “He needs it, and richly deserves it”, he said, getting up to show his visitor out.

  “Can’t get over that kid”, muttered Page, shaking his head. “Didn’t mince his words, not for a moment. Came right out point-blank, he did. If I couldn’t resolve it, he was going straight to the headmaster with it, and if I wouldn’t resolve it, he’d never set foot on a rugby field again as long as he was here. Good kid.” Graham saw him out, and he walked briskly away, shaking his head and absorbing the lesson he had learnt from his punishment run. Graham watched him out of sight, then went in to put in another stint on Stephen’s bat, feeling very proud of its owner, very relieved at the unexpectedly easy resolution of a potentially horrendous problem, and most of all feeling that he was blessed in the love that fate had sent his way. He looked at the clock, and saw with pleasure that it was already time to set out for the day’s cricket match.

  * * *

  As usual, when Alan Hood, the Elderton park vice-captain, had arrived home the night before, he had sat up for a while with his wife, sharing a last can of beer with her and exchanging local news, gossip and anything interesting that had befallen either of them during the day. It was inevitable that Alan would mention to her the incident with Bill, in which they had found confirmation of their long-held suspicion that Graham Curtis was gay.

  “Well, now you’ve had confirmation”, said his wife, “what are you intending to do about it?”

  “Nothing”, said Alan. “Forget it, I suppose.”

  His wife didn’t forget it. She never actually set out with the intention of passing it on; but she found that it was one of those most maddening little items of news: impossible to forget, and even more impossible to keep to herself. A few days later she was under the dryer at the local hairdresser, trying to think of something to say. In the end she told her friend, in total confidence, what her husband had told her.

  That night the best friend told her husband. The next morning her husband telephoned and told Graham’s headmaster at school. “I don’t want to seem like a busybody”, he said (“I can hear the insincerity radiating from you in a nimbus”, thought the headmaster bitterly) “But I’ve got a young son of my own who’ll be attending your school one day, and I think I have a duty to pass on the information to you…” The headmaster sighed, and felt a headache coming on as he put the receiver down.

  * * *

  “I suppose I’ll have to resign”, Colin Preston said. He was sitting in the corner of the locked dressing room, trembling slightly and feeling utterly humiliated. He could not meet the eyes of his accusers, who were both standing. Bill, oddly, considering that he was not the injured party, was much the wrathier of the two. His eyes were hot and angry, and he had been the chief prosecutor. Graham merely looked cold and bitter. Now he made an effort, and found some pity for the wretched young man huddled almost tearfully in the corner.

  “No, Colin, we don’t want that — or at least, I don’t, speaking as the bloke on the receiving end of your bloody idiocy. I don’t say malice, because if I thought you’d done what you did maliciously I’d be going for your blood. I just think you ought to grow up, that’s all. For God’s sake, think what damage you might have done. Not to me, especially: I’m old enough and big enough to take care of myself — although you’ve already made life difficult for me, and you might have done more damage than you’d have dreamed of. But mainly you want to think about poor young Stephen. The boy’s eighteen years old —just — and still at school. He’s got A-levels to come at the end of this year. Can’t you imagine what a scandal would have done to him, if things hadn’t worked out so luckily? If he hadn’t had the courage to do what he did, I ought to say — can you imagine the effect it would have had
on his life?”

  Colin did look up then, and now there were tears glinting. “Yes”, he muttered miserably. “I can imagine. I can only say I never meant it. I just didn’t think…” He trailed dismally into silence, overwhelmed by the yawning pit that had opened up, utterly unexpectedly, in front of him. When Bill had called him into the dressing room after the game, later in the day of Jack Page’s visit to Graham’s flat, he had not had the remotest idea what was to come. But when he had found Graham waiting for them he had suddenly felt himself turning an interesting shade of green and his legs had announced an unwillingness to support him.

  Now, it seemed, he was to be let off lightly. Graham turned to Bill. “I don’t think this needs to go any further, does it, Bill?” he said. “He’s apologized, there’s no lasting damage, he’s sworn he’ll never tattle again, and he’s going to make amends at the rugby club. I’m ready to leave it at that, if you are.”

  Bill assented. “Okay, Graham, if that’s the way you want it. I think he ought to have a word in person with Steve, though, don’t you?” Graham nodded. “Yes, I certainly do. Do you agree to that, Colin? You’ll take Stephen Hill aside, and apologize to him, as you have to me? And I mean, really apologize—no letting yourself down lightly with some perfunctory ‘sorry about that, no hard feelings?’, just because he’s only a kid, you understand? He’s more important in this than I am, simply because he’s a kid, and there’s no ‘only’ about it, see. You okay with all that?”

  Colin nodded, looking a little happier. “I’ve got nothing against the kid”, he snuffled. “I just can’t help myself with gossip. I like telling stories, and I sort of get carried away. But I’ve got nothing at all against the kid, and I want to tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do the job properly, you can trust me for that much.”

  “Okay”, said Bill. “I think we can consider the matter closed, if you’re willing to make a proper apology to Steve. You make sure it is a proper one, though, Colin. We’re trusting you, but not quite all the way. I’ll be seeing the kid, to make sure he’s satisfied with what he gets from you, all right?” Colin nodded.

  “Okay then, Col. Now I want to finish this off with Graham. You go back in, and as far as I’m concerned it’s over, and nothing more needs to be said. Okay, Graham?” Graham nodded.

  “Th-thanks, Bill, and you, Graham, for taking it so well. I’ll never forget it”, quavered Colin. Bill unlocked the door and let him out. He went, plumbing depths of shame, contrition and humiliation that only a young man can plumb. Bill shut the door.

  “You’re letting him off bloody lightly, Graham”, he said. He was acutely conscious that his own conduct in the matter under discussion had not been wholly stainless. “I hope you’ll be able to be as kind to me.”

  Graham looked at him in surprise. “You? What have I got to let you off about, then?”

  “Well, I’m afraid my own handling of this…this miserable affair hasn’t been what you might call masterly”, Bill said unhappily. “I mean, when we first heard about these rumours, when that kid was earwigging outside, all I was bothered about was hushing it up. If I said ‘it’s none of our business’ once to Hoody I must’ve said it a dozen times. I ought to’ve been interested in snuffing it out, oughtn’t I? I ought to have been at pains to kill off a foul slander. I ought…”

  “Bill, Bill”, said Graham, laughing, much to Bill’s surprise. “Stop cataloguing all the things you ought to have done. If I’d always done all the things I ought to have done I’d never have had any time to do the things I wanted to do. If everybody had followed your rule and minded their own business none of this unpleasantness would have happened. It’s not a bad rule, you know.”

  “Yes, I know that. But this isn’t the first time a rumour of this kind has gone round about you”, said Bill, getting the habit of confession. “And in the past I’ve joined in the speculation. I’ve even privately marked you down as qu… er, gay. I should have stopped it on all those other occasions, shouldn’t I?”

  “Give yourself a break, Bill”, said Graham, a little wearily. “Don’t you think I’ve known about these occasional speculations? You get used to them, believe me. Every man who’s still single when he’s getting towards thirty has to put up with it some time or other. And in schools —well, masters’ common rooms…” He left the thought unfinished. “I was more concerned about Stephen in this case. I mean, obviously I was a bit worried about my job — rumours like this can’t do a master in a boys’ school much good, you understand — but mostly my concern was for the boy. I’m very glad it’s been closed so painlessly, and you’ve played your part in that. I’ve got no real complaint against you or the club. I’m not specially pleased to have my personal life made a talking point; but there’s nothing much I can do about it, so there’s no point in making an issue of it.”

  “Well, it’s good of you to take it that way”, said Bill, eyeing him curiously. “Graham”, he went on after a long pause. Graham was aware of the scrutiny, and waited patiently, having a good idea what was coming. “Can I ask you something? It’s only being nosy, and you’re completely free to tell me to mind my own bloody business if you want to, but I’m curious about one thing — but it’s quite a big thing…”

  “Am I?” said Graham with a faint smile.

  “Sorry?”

  “You want to ask, but aren’t quite sure if I’ll be offended or not, isn’t that it? You want to ask ‘Am I really gay, after all?’ don’t you?”

  “I, er… well, actually…”

  Graham laughed. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. It’s not something I’m bothered about. Yes, I’m gay. Homosexual, if you prefer it. Not queer or bent, thank you, and never a poof or a poofter, if you value my friendship. But yes, I’m gay. I don’t advertise it, partly because why the hell should I? Who else advertises his personal attributes? It’s also partly, I admit, because doing the job I do it would be foolish to advertise it — there are so many silly asses about that if I advertised it I’d spend my entire life explaining that I’m not a potential child-molester, and it would get almighty bloody boring to have to keep on going over the same old ground over and over again. But I don’t make any particular secret of it either, among my friends or among decent people. Satisfied?”

  “Thanks, Graham”, said Bill. “You didn’t have to tell me any of that. I’m honoured”, he went on, looking a little self-conscious as he uttered the word.

  The silence swirled round the dressing room. It had started to rain, and it could be heard drumming above them, slightly amplified and distorted by the attic space between the pitched roof and the high ceiling of the dressing room. There was a sudden flurry of drops against the window behind where Graham was standing. He turned and peered out into the dark. He went up to Bill and patted him gently in the small of his back. “Come on, let’s go and have a drink.”

  “Sure”, said Bill. “Fine. And thanks for telling me. It’ll make it easier to handle if anything like this crops up again in the future. Funny, you know. This isn’t the first time something like this has circulated about someone or other; and yet I’ve never pursued it to the end and actually resolved it, you know? Actually sorted it out, properly. Never thought enough about it, I suppose.”

  “Few people ever do think about us, Bill”, said Graham. “And that’s entirely as it should be. People generally don’t go round thinking about other people’s sex lives. They’re too busy going round thinking about their own. But people like you, who don’t think about us, are all right, until the odd occasion crops up when you’re used, mobilized and used as cannon-fodder, often unknown to yourselves, or even positively against your actual wishes, by the occasional people who go around thinking altogether too much about other people’s sex lives — and they usually seem to have an awful lot of time to devote especially to thinking about ours. Now, come on, I’m dying of thirst.”

  He led the way out into the main body of the pavilion, and Bill followed him, with a new look of respect on h
is battered face.

  * * *

  “So there it is, Graham”, said the headmaster, with a mixture of anger, embarrassment, distaste and worry sketched like grafitti all over his face. “That’s the complaint. Now there’s the matter of what we do about it.”

  “May I speak, Headmaster?” said Graham formally. He had kept his face expressionless with an effort, while seething underneath.

  “Of course. I’d very much like to hear your side of the thing.” Graham had opened his mouth to speak, and he was taken so much by surprise by this response that for a moment he sat there with it open, deprived of speech. He found it again quickly. “My side! You want to hear my side of this? Well, you surprise me, Headmaster.”

  “Oh”, said the headmaster, surprised himself by the fury that he could hear quite clearly in Graham’s voice despite his efforts to suppress it. “What have I said to surprise you?”

  “Well, to begin with, I’m surprised to see you paying this kind of muck the compliment of pursuing it at all”, said Graham. “I’d have thought the proper course to follow with an anonymous letter was to put a peg on your nose and drop it in the waste paper basket, and then wash your hands carefully in disinfectant.”

  “It was a telephone call”, said the headmaster mildly.

  “What the devil does it matter whether it came in an envelope or over a wire?” snapped Graham. “It’s still a piece of poison raked up by some dirty-minded shit-stirrer who hasn’t got the guts to put his name to it, and I’m very disappointed to hear that you didn’t tell him what you thought of him and put the phone down. It’s what I’d have done, I can promise you.”