Chapter 13 - Summer Term 1968
Mr Barnes was by the entrance ticking off the returning boys for the start of the second half of the Summer Term as always.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Pip. Not many other boys about yet.”
Pip quickly dispensed with his parents once his father had helped him upstairs with his trunk. Alone Pip sat in quiet contemplation of the next few weeks to come. There was a tension in the air for all the boys in the Sixth Form. The Common Entrance Exams were due to start the following Monday. There was one frantic week of revision to come and then a week and a half of exams, two or three a day for the next ten days.
Sacha returned with Peter. He met Pip coming up the stairs with some of his textbooks from his desk, his face wearing a worried frown.
“Hello, Pip, how are you feeling?”
“Oh everything has healed up nicely now, thanks.”
“Can we go out to Mousehole this weekend?”
Pip had put all thoughts of weekends out of his mind. Instead he had reluctantly committed himself to revising. His Latin and French worried him. Languages did not come naturally to him.
“Sorry, Sacha, exams start Monday. I really still have lots of revision to do. Afterwards, okay?”
“Oh, okay.”
Sacha barely hid his disappointment. Peter had said the same to him, but he hated the idea of staying in school. That was like a punishment. Fortunately Jonathan was more forthcoming.
“Sunday? We can go down St Ives. It’s getting busy there now. Lots of girls if we are lucky.”
“Okay, then.”
At the end of each day Pip allowed himself a brief visit to Chapel Cove to watch the others swim each evening, spending the rest of the time in catch-up sessions with his subject teachers or with Clancy in their dormitory. Clancy was reading his scholarship material. His books had careful underlining and annotations in red and green. The Latin Clancy was looking at seemed so much more advanced than the Latin that Pip was struggling with. However, at least with Clancy there was an air of quiet calm learning that helped Pip concentrate on his own work.
The good news had come the first Monday. After a visit to the doctor Pip had finally been given the all clear to restart swimming. At the Cove Mr Wallace was leading his group of remedial swimmers in the warmest and mostly gently shelving part of the Cove. The other boys were banished to the other side near Parson’s leap. Pip was nervous about swimming again. Although he followed the other boys down, he did not want to enter the water with the rest of them. Instead he waited a bit and then entered in a quiet spot well away from the other boys where only Owen was, looking for crabs. Not wanting to risk running in or diving, Pip gingerly walked out up to his waist, felt the water with his hands and then took advantage of a wave and plunged in. He surfaced rapidly in shock. The water was far colder than he remembered, especially when it touched his scar. After the shortest of swims Pip came out of the water, sat shivering wrapped in his towel despite the sun and watched the other boys as they splashed about as if not a care in the world.
Sacha had managed to escape from his remedial swimming lessons, convincing Mr Wallace that he was able to swim well enough not to need any more lessons. However, to Pip’s disappointment, Sacha did not join him on the beach, but instead he approached Mr Wallace with Jonathan.
“Sir, can we borrow the snorkelling gear?”
“Where are you going to use it?”
“Oh, we want to explore under Parson’s Leap.”
“Well, okay, bring it back and do not get too close to the cliffs as you don’t want to bash into them.”
“Oh, we will be careful.”
“Mind you are.”
The two boys went off to explore the crystal clear water under Parson’s Leap. Uninvited, Pip watched from the distance and felt left alone and morose, buried under his pre-exam anxieties.
Sacha went off with Jonathan as planned that Sunday. On the beach at Porthminster they met up with two girls and went swimming with them, but after their swim, the girls were reluctant to do more than sunbathe.
“Come on, Sacha, we might as well go back.”
Disappointed, Sacha agreed. Having their swimming kit, the two boys went straight to Chapel Cove, where most of the Fifth Form boys were already swimming. The Sixth Formers were mostly absent, back at school revising. For Pip the Monday morning of the first exam, English, came all too soon. After breakfast Sacha came up to him.
“Good luck. Rotten to have exams on a day like this.”
“Thanks.”
Pip agreed. The clear blue skies promised another hot June day. This time last year Pip did not have a care in the world. Now all he could think of was the timetable of exams for the next week and a half.
The Sixth Form boys gathered early outside their classroom. Outside there was a big sign; ‘Silence, exams in progress.’
Captain Porter came into the classroom and stood in front of them. Gone was any pretence that this was a normal school day. On the wall hung a large clock and on the blackboard was listed the start and finish times of the day’s exams starting with English and maths.
“Good morning, boys.” Captain Porter sensed the tension in the air. “Don’t worry too much. Your exams will soon be over. You can also take comfort that you have fewer exams than Clancy who also has to do further Scholarship papers all by himself after you have finished.”
The class turned to express their sympathy to Clancy, faced with the prospect of four extra exams in the late afternoon. Clancy however remained unfazed. At the mention of the Scholarship papers, Pip wanted to hide. Despite the excuse of his operation, he still felt he was letting the side down and should have been with Clancy doing the Scholarship papers.
The first day set the tone. The Sixth Form was shut off from the rest of the school, locked away doing three exams per day, two exams in the morning and one in the early afternoon. The afternoon exams were the worst as the day was at its hottest and the noise of cricket and athletics could be heard even when it was kept at some distance from the school. Whilst the Sixth Formers were doing their last exam indoors in the main block, the rest of the school got on with its usual routine.
For the Sixth Form boys the exams soon became their routine. Pip was locked up with the other Sixth Formers doing exams all day until the afternoon lesson periods when they were allowed some free time, which they spent down at Chapel Cove with Captain Porter who always organised some activities to keep their minds from fretting on either the exams to come or those that had just been.
After tea the Sixth Form went back for a period of revision whilst the other boys were allowed out after prep to enjoy the Cove all to themselves until the Sixth Form were allowed out briefly a second time at the end of their revision period.
In the absence of Pip Jonathan and Sacha began to snorkel together, exploring the coast either side of Chapel Cove.
“You never know, we might find some treasure.”
Sacha thought it unlikely. Apart from a few startled seagulls nothing was to be found in the various nooks and crannies they explored, but the two boys enjoyed each other’s company. Apart from being class and bunkmates they had several things in common: a natural ability at ball games, a dislike of the confines of school and a desire to push the boundaries now they were reaching adolescence. Only academically did they differ much. Sacha was top of the form in all subjects other than geography and history. Jonathan on the other hand was the more athletic in the gym and less keen on lessons, although he was no slouch in subjects such as maths and was top of the form in geography.
With Pip an invalid for the last few weeks, Sacha and Jonathan had gone out to St Ives a couple of times. Jonathan found that with Sacha in tow it had been easier to talk to the curious throng of girls that often gathered by the harbour. Although generally shyer than Jonathan, Sacha was good at small talk with girls, something he had learned from Sam??
?s girlfriends at the tennis club in Hong Kong. There the teenage girls were used to having Sacha come along with Sam when she used him as an excuse to go out to places like Stanley or Aberdeen.
That weekend, with all the Sixth Formers locked up in the middle of last-minute exam revision, Sacha had gone with Jonathan to St Ives. Unusually it was just one fourteen- year-old girl who let them chat her up. Jonathan as usual made the approach.
“I’m Jonathan, this is Sacha. We live here.” Jonathan mentioned that they were at boarding school.
“Lucky you. I am just here for the weekend.”
The three of them chatted as they walked away from the beach; her parents were looking at some galleries. So the girl was by herself for the afternoon.
“So show me where your school is then,” she asked after about ten minutes. The boys walked her along the cliff path. Rachael was her name they discovered. They chatted for about an hour and then Rachael decided she had to go. Before she did she kissed both boys, Sacha first. It was a long kiss. She forced her tongue into Sacha’s mouth, salty from crisps, both hands round his back, pulling them together. A reaction. Rachael stepped back when she realised what was pushing into her.
“My, you’re keen.”
Sacha was puzzled. When Rachael finished with Jonathan the two boys walked back in silence until Jonathan asked the question.
“What was she talking about, you being keen?”
Sacha blushed bright red. “It was just a reaction. I couldn’t help it.”
Jonathan said no more. He could see that Sacha was not going to talk about what had happened, but Jonathan could guess. He would find a suitable opportunity and try and find out for sure.
It was the Wednesday of the final day of the exams. Jonathan made a proposal to Sacha. “I have managed to book the tennis court. Fancy a game?”
“Oh, okay.”
“It’s all right. I cleared it with Mr Wallace. There are no First XI games at the moment in any case, as most of the players are in there.” Jonathan indicated the main school block where the exams continued.
“Come on then.” Sacha loved to play tennis. It was something he did regularly in Hong Kong.
With Jonathan in the lead the two Fifth Formers made their way to the courts. Sacha and Jonathan played best of three over the course of the afternoon. Sacha played a sly game. His quickness of reaction meant that he had Jonathan running all over the court. Jonathan made up for his slightly slower reaction times by his speed, agility and energy, banging the ball back from the back and sides of the court. As the two boys got the measure of each other’s game, they played more competitively, working up a sweat over the long hot afternoon. Mr Wallace came over from a rather slow game of cricket a couple of times.
“How are you two doing?”
The two boys were sitting on the grass in the shade of an oak tree after two matches. The redness of their faces and the sweat on their brows told its own story.
“Oh, it’s one set apiece. Morgan is rather good.”
“It’s just luck mainly.”
“Ah, so you have met your match, have you, Pierce? No harm in that.”
Mr Wallace left the tennis court, satisfied that the boys were indeed playing tennis and returned to the game of cricket he was umpiring.
After the third set, which Jonathan finally had to concede defeat one set to two, the boys went to the drinking fountain by the changing room for a drink.
“You really are rather good at tennis, aren’t you?”
“It’s what I used to play with Peter in the club in Hong Kong. It’s strange. Peter hardly ever plays here, though.”
“You never mentioned that before we started playing.”
“You didn’t ask! Besides, I haven’t played for a couple of months.”
Both boys gathered around the drinking fountain taking turns to drink. Jonathan glowed, but Sacha was flushed red. Jonathan, ever the one for mischief, diverted a jet of water over Sacha.
“Hey!”
“You look so hot. You are crimson.”
Sacha hovered on the other side of the water fountain.
“It’s my complexion. That’s what we red heads do, go red when we are hot, well sort of. Try this.”
Sacha aimed a jet at Jonathan and succeeded in soaking both of them by not using enough pressure with his thumb. The boys leapt back to avoid the water, but the mess was already made.
“Oh sorry.”
“Don’t worry. It will soon dry in this heat.”
Thirst quenched and drenched with water, the boys went inside the small changing room under the Junior Block used by the younger boys. It was now very hot and they were still sweating from their game of tennis. Jonathan sat on the changing bench opposite Sacha and started to remove his white games kit.
“Shower?”
Normally the boys had to be ordered into the showers at The Rocks, but today it seemed like a very good idea. They were both very hot and a cooling shower seemed like the most comfortable thing to do other than race down to Chapel Cove, which was an uncomfortable ten minutes away in the hot Cornish sun.
Sacha thought about it quickly and overcame his normal reticence to undress. After all, he showered with Jonathan everyday in the dormitory. Jonathan forced the issue. He was already half naked, removing his socks. So it would be pretty stand offish not to follow suit.
“Okay, a shower now sounds good.”
Jonathan rapidly stripped off his socks and shorts and left his games kit in a heap on the floor before standing up, the tan marks from wearing swimming trunks very visible against his skin. Sacha took his time carefully folding his clothes as he had been taught at home. Finally only when Jonathan went in to turn the water on, did Sacha remove his shorts. Sacha was still quite shy of his body even though he was now suntanned from the summer outdoor life at The Rocks. Jonathan played with the taps, shifting the temperature from hot to the cool side of tepid. He danced out of the way when it was too cold even for him. It took half a minute before he was satisfied.
“Come on, the water’s fine now.”
Sacha tentatively put his hand in and pulled it out rapidly. “That’s just a bit too cold for me.”
“Oh okay.” Jonathan turned up the temperature fractionally. Now it was just right, tepid but not hot.
The boys showered side-by-side exchanging the one bar of soap from time to time until Jonathan managed to drop it in the soapy water.
“Where’s the soap?” Jonathan asked in feigned innocence. He dropped to all fours at Sacha’s feet. Sacha hurriedly dropped down too and the boys searched for the soap with their hands in the soapy water. Sacha found it.
“Here it is.”
“Give it to me.”
“No! I’ve got it.”
“I said give it to me!”
The next thing Jonathan was on Sacha’s back trying to wrestle the soap from him, but Sacha was having none of it. It had become a game. The two boys were on their hands and knees feeling for the soap and then wrestling each other for it. They were each having fun trying to grab the elusive bar of soap from the other. Eventually Sacha had the soap and Jonathan was all over him trying to grab it.
Had they done this in the First Form, Matron would have intervened and delivered more than a couple of firm smacks to each of them, but in the absence of Matron Jonathan took Sacha in a bear hug that Sacha desperately tried to wriggle out of. The boys wrestled helped by their soap-covered slipperiness. Jonathan had Sacha pinned down on the floor.
“Hey!”
Sacha was now indignant. Jonathan was astride him, but suddenly let Sacha loose, a purposeful look in his eyes, the source of Sacha’s indignation all too obvious to both of them. Jonathan turned off the water, signalling silence and listened. They could hear the cricket in the distance.
“No one’s around.”
Jonathan, emboldened by his memories of Rachael last weekend, was very quick. Sacha inf
lamed by the sight soon joined in. It did not take either of them long. Both now finished, Jonathan turned on the shower. The boys quickly washed the evidence away.
“Come on, we can get some lemon squash from the kitchen.”
“We forgot to bring our towels.”
Jonathan looked around. “There’s a small one by the sink. Here, you go first.”
Sacha quickly dried himself and gave the towel to Jonathan as he dressed. Before they left, Jonathan did a quick look around. There was no evidence of anything else and nothing untoward.
“Come on, let’s get that drink. I am really thirsty now.”
Jonathan led the way around the back of the dining hall to where the kitchen was. There was a door open. Jonathan peered cautiously inside.
“Hello?” He called out twice and then looked down towards Parson’s Leap. Three figures were silhouetted against the sun: one tall, one stout, and one small.
“Oh, it’s okay. They must have gone off for a ciggie break. I can see them down there.” Jonathan pointed. Sacha could see the familiar shapes.
“Oh, okay.”
Sure enough, as Jonathan predicted, there was a jug of lemon squash brimming with ice cubes on the main table, as it was such a hot day. Jonathan found two glasses.
“Here you are.”
Sacha took the proffered glass. Jonathan peeped into the main kitchen area.
“There’s no one around.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, just to have a look around. Stay by the door with the glass half full in your hand and come in loudly if anyone comes.”
“But Jonathan…”
“Stop being a pansy.”
Unhappy Sacha kept look out. After what seemed ages Jonathan emerged. Cake tin in hand.
“Something for a midnight feast.”
“But they’ll miss it.”
“No, they won’t. It is one of about a dozen. They’ll just think they made the wrong number.” Sacha wasn’t happy with this, but he kept quiet, not wanting to fall out with Jonathan.
Whilst Jonathan and Sacha had been playing tennis, the Sixth Formers were sitting their final exam, RE, Religious Education. Pip had gained confidence in his exams after a shaky start on the first day. He cruised through the final paper, relying on his memory to answer the questions. It was an easy paper to finish on. As he sat back, ten minutes to spare, Pip spied Sacha and Jonathan emerging from the tennis changing room. They were wet headed, carrying tennis rackets and a tin. He realised that Sacha and Jonathan were becoming ever closer.
Pip felt confident enough to leave the exam room early and walked up to Mr Barnes who was invigilating. Papers in hand he bent low so he could talk quietly to Mr Barnes without disturbing the other boys.
“I’ve finished, sir.”
It was not strictly allowed, but Mr Barnes looked at the neatly written paper. He saw the right number of answers, all of which looked correct and decided to let Pip leave early.
“All right. Leave quietly and move away from the exam room.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once outside, Pip waved to Jonathan and Sacha who were sitting under the oak tree. They waved him over in response. As Pip crossed the empty playing field, the two Fifth Formers looked around and deciding it was safe, removed the cake from its hiding place. The boys were probably out of bounds, but at this stage of the term and with Pip it was unlikely to lead to any serious trouble. When Pip caught up with them Jonathan opened the cake tin to show Pip their booty from the kitchen.
“Fancy some? It’s already sliced.”
Pip, who had not been eating much due to some residual fears about his stitches, looked hungrily at the cake.
“Okay, but just one piece.”
Sacha declined after having eaten one piece already, but Jonathan helped himself to another two pieces leaving two thirds of the cake behind. Jonathan put the lid on the cake and decided to pick it up later to share with the rest of the dormitory tonight. The boys dusted off any crumbs before leaving.
“I had better get back. The other boys will be out of the exam shortly.”
“Okay, we’ve got lessons to get to in any case.”
Just then the other Sixth Formers emerged all elated as exams were finally over. As they came out, Peter could see Pip with Sacha and Jonathan on the other side of the field. Kit was alongside him.
“Pip is very friendly with your brother.”
“Very friendly from what I hear.”
Robbie joined them. Peter’s curiosity was aroused.
“In what way?”
“They are always off by themselves. Before half term they went up into that area just below Trendrine. Spent a whole afternoon alone. Pierce saw them.”
“Well, that was what Pierce was saying, was it? Not sure I believe him.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Peter was annoyed with Jonathan. He had asked him not to say anything about what he had seen on Trendrine, but clearly he had told the twins. Who else he wondered? Peter decided not to be distracted just now. He led his fellow Sixth Form companions onto the cricket field. He wanted to lead the celebrations, his right as Head Boy.
“Come on. We have time for a game of football.”
Celebrating their freedom, the Sixth Formers all went down onto the cricket pitch. All their exams were now over. The boys were conscious that they had passed through the ultimate rites of passage in the prep school system.
Two scratch teams were chosen for a game of football. Peter wanted to make a show of his generosity. He ignored the question marks in his mind about Pip and chose him, choosing some unlikely teammates.
“Owen, Clancy, Cox, come here.”
The rest of the team was chosen quickly with the Johnson twins acting as joint captain of the opposing team. The other boys, returning from their afternoon of cricket or swimming, milled around the edge of the pitch and began acting as the crowd, chanting out names and offering encouragement, but just then Mr Durrant appeared and reluctantly blew the whistle for afternoon lessons.
“Sorry, boys, it’s time for lessons.”
With some small protests the younger boys headed for their classrooms, Jonathan topless, concealing the cake tin under his tee shirt, Sacha at his side. Instinctively the Sixth Formers also started towards their classroom. Mr Durrant quickly put a stop to that.
“No, not you boys. You have done all the hard work. Just keep away from the rest of the school for the remainder of the afternoon and come back at tea time.”
For Pip and his Sixth Form companions this was the ultimate expression of freedom. They started to kick the ball around without any supervision. Slowly it dawned on them; they had no more lessons for the remainder of the term. Four whole weeks of free time interspersed with some organised activities lay ahead. They would not have as much freedom again until after their A levels in five years’ time. That afternoon they set out to enjoy themselves as much as they could possibly do.
At the end of afternoon lessons the whole school, from the youngest First Years to Mr Barnes came out into the Quad. The kitchen staff emerged with cakes for a celebratory tea. Chocolate cake and orange squash all round. The boys quickly thronged around the laid out table and helped themselves, overseen by Mr Barnes and Mrs Prince. “Just one slice of cake each, that’s all there is.”
Sacha looked at Jonathan. “Are you sure they haven’t counted?”
“It’ll be all right. There’s always cake left over. Just wait and see.”
The two boys moved away from the table. Only Jonathan had taken a slice. Feeling guilty, Sacha had declined and settled for a biscuit instead.
“That’s the lot, I’m afraid.”
Mr Barnes looked in all the cake tins; none was left. Mrs Porter came over.
“But some of the staff have not had any. Are you sure we haven’t let some of the greedier boys have more than one slice? I ordered thirteen cakes
, a dozen slices apiece. That was enough for everyone with a couple spare.”
“None that I am aware of, Mrs Porter. It’s okay. I certainly don’t need a slice.”
“Hmm, I had better check with Cook.”
Mrs Porter spoke quietly to Cook, who was very distressed at this apparent error and ran indoors, emerging with a piece of paper.
“Look, Mrs Porter, here’s your instructions. I followed them to the letter, but there’s only the twelve tins now, not thirteen, I assure you. Look you can see the thirteen boxes of eggs, six eggs each for thirteen cakes. I keep them for Mrs Prince.”
Mrs Porter did a quick count herself. Twelve tins, thirteen empty egg boxes.
“Quite right. So it looks like we are one cake tin short.”
Captain Porter had now turned up, aware of some problem.
“I can assure you, Captain Porter, I made enough cakes and I know my numbers. I made thirteen this morning and now there is only twelve tins.”
Mrs Porter intervened to stop the conversation repeating itself.
“Yes, I am absolutely sure you did, Cook. I can see the empty egg boxes like you said, thirteen of them.”
Captain Porter was used to getting to the bottom of these sorts of incidents, especially when it involved some of his boys.
“Has anyone else been in the kitchen, Cook?”
“Some lemon squash has gone. I always leave a jug for the boys when the temperature is like this.”
“Of course and look, footprints. Tennis shoes, two pairs with one going towards the table. I think we can guess that a couple of the boys have helped themselves.”
Unaware of this drama the whole school thronged round the new generation of leavers as the Sixth Formers had now become. Pip along with the rest of Sixth Formers revelled in this attention, but eventually he sought out Sacha. Sacha was standing in a knot of boys around his brother who was gently teasing his younger brother over his still damp state.
“Forgotten what a towel is for, have you, Sacha?”
“No we just didn’t have one.”
“That’s not very clever. You’re supposed to be the bright one in the family.”
“We didn’t realise we would be needing a towel until we finished playing tennis. By then we really needed to cool off.”
Peter gently put his arm around Sacha and pulled him towards him. Sacha was more than happy to feel his brother’s embrace.
“Well, perhaps you will remember next time.”
Nevertheless, as soon as Sacha saw Pip coming in his direction, he peeled off.
“I have been given a clean bill of health. Fancy going out with me this weekend?”
“Could do, but first Parson’s Leap. Remember what we said that night? Now is the time to show the other boys.”
“What in daylight?”
“We can do it when the other Sixth Formers are there. You lot are not supervised now.”
“Are you sure? I won’t be able to jump in with you. I am not allowed to do anything like that yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can still do it. Jonathan will, I am sure, for a dare.”
Pip could not hide his glare. “Jonathan?”
“He’s all right really.”
Pip stopped himself. He was jealous, he realised. “Oh Jonathan, I know he’s okay.” Pip tried to relax. “He’ll be up for it, I am sure.”
Pip set up an idea for a barbecue with Peter.
“I thought it would be a wizard idea to hold a barbecue down at Chapel Cove this evening. I am sure we could get permission if we asked. I bet the kitchen staff will provide something to barbecue if we ask them, sausages and the like.”
For once Peter was game to go along with a plan drawn up by Pip. “That sounds a great idea, but better keep it to senior boys only. Otherwise we will have the staff there and that will cramp our style.”
“Well, if we promise to be back by nine o’clock they should be okay about it as it is still broad daylight then.”
The two boys worked out the details and then went straight to Mrs Porter.
“Please, Miss, we have had this idea for a barbecue for the Fifth and Sixth Formers this evening down at Chapel Cove. Could you ask Captain Porter for us?”
Mrs Porter knew why she was being asked to do the negotiations. She would be the only one to get approval.
“All right, and I am guessing staff are not invited then?”
“Well, if you don’t mind awfully…”
“No, you’ve earned your freedom. Just don’t abuse it.”
“We won’t, we promise.”
Mrs Porter duly kept her word and talked her husband around, including the bit about no supervision.
“Trouble is, if they have to invite teaching staff they have to invite everyone and then the whole school comes. Hardly what they want is it?”
Captain Porter agreed with his wife and gave his permission in return for some help for the kitchen staff in preparing the food for the barbecue. Although he was angry about the theft of the cake, Captain Porter was not going to let that disciplinary matter blot the Sixth Form boys celebrating. Captain Porter was fairly sure the blame for the missing cake lay with one or more of the Fifth Form boys. The Sixth Form had been in exams and the younger boys had been in supervised games.
“I am not sure about the Fifth Form. There is the little matter of the cake.”
“Come on. That can wait until tomorrow, can’t it? You can’t punish a whole class just because of the thoughtless actions of one or two boys, can you?”
“You are right. As always.” Captain Porter smiled at his wife. As usual he gave into her.
The advance party of the older boys left the school at six o’clock laden with the makings of a barbecue. Peter was in charge with Clancy who, as the most sensible boy in the party, was tasked with running the barbecue itself. Pip appointed himself assistant cook. Mr Wallace, who fancied himself as something of a barbecue expert, was roped in to get the barbecue going properly. Mr Wallace set up the barbecue early with Clancy and Pip’s help.
“Get it so the whole tray has white glowing charcoal. Otherwise it won’t cook properly.”
He left them with a fire blanket and, with Captain Porter’s blessing, some cider mixed with lemonade.
“Make sure that you share that out equally. I don’t want any drunken Sixth, or even
worse, Fifth Formers coming back later. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course, sir. We won’t let that happen.”
“Well, Morgan, you’re in charge. Make sure it doesn’t.”
As he left, Mr Wallace placed a whistle on the table.
“Just in case, for emergencies. You can attract attention with that.”
Jonathan and Sacha came with the Fifth Formers and the remainder of the Sixth Form half an hour later. Captain Porter saw them off.
“Enjoy yourselves, boys and don’t lose anyone tonight. I expect to see you all back in one piece.”
“We will, sir.” The boys sang out in unison and made their way down the steep path to the Cove. Sacha teased Jonathan on the way down. “We’ve got a special surprise for you later on.”
“What’s that?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, but I think you will be one to appreciate it more than most.”
Jonathan was intrigued. He could not guess what it was.
By the time the other boys arrived, the barbecue was performing as planned under the careful stewardship of Clancy with some assistance from Pip. Owen eagerly eyed the pile of sausages and freshly made beef burgers cooking on the barbecue. As the boys picked up their paper plates of food and the cider shandy or bottles of pop, they sat on the sand or surrounding rocks, happy to listen to the rasping of the sea as the tide came in. Satisfied that everyone was fed and enjoying themselves, Peter took it on himself to say something.
“I hope you are enjoying yourselves. Just don’t take too much of the dri
nk and Owen, that advice refers to the food as well as the drink.”
The boys laughed at Owen’s expense. Owen himself was happy, as he was halfway through a giant beef burger that he had assembled, his face smeared with ketchup. Left to their own devices, the boys milled around happily in the balmy heat of a hot June evening. Chapel Cove was a complete suntrap. Most of the boys who wanted to swim were already appropriately attired. Gradually they made their way into the water where a couple of beach balls were used to good effect.
Sacha swam over to Pip. Pip was gingerly floating on a rubber tyre trying to keep his still vivid scar clear of the water as the cold reminded him of his recent operation.
“I think we should go up to Parson’s Leap now if we are going to do it.”
Pip had rather hoped that Sacha might have abandoned this idea but evidently not.
“Okay, but you know I can’t jump and there won’t be anyone at the bottom. You’ve got to get it right.”
“We had a good look that time we swam down there. I know where to jump and it’s high tide now. I’ll be fine.”
Apart from his tee shirt Sacha left his things behind on the beach and climbed the path with Pip. Pip stopped by the table and picked up the whistle.
“What’s that for?”
“We can use this to get everyone’s attention.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea.”
Their departure was not unnoticed. Jonathan spied them halfway up the cliff. He guessed that this was to do with the surprise. Sacha turned. He saw Jonathan’s gaze and quickly signalled for Jonathan to join them. Jonathan climbed out of the water in one athletic move. Dripping wet he walked up the path following them at a distance, ignoring the sharp stones that attacked the soles of his feet.
At the top Pip and Sacha made their way to Parson’s Leap. Carefully they reconnoitred the precise place to jump, lying on their stomachs to prevent the other boys below seeing them, the two piles of rocks still marking the spot as before.
“It’s here. You can see right to the bottom, no rocks. So just stay this side of the rock and don’t do what I did and step right on the edge as it is all crumbly.”
“No driftwood or anything, is there?”
“None that I can see.”
Sacha looked down again and checked. It was quite a drop, at least twenty foot, but nothing floated on the surface.
“When you jump, keep your legs together and arms against the sides and your toes pointed downwards. That should minimise the impact. I got it all wrong last time.”
There was a rustle behind them. Pip and Sacha turned. It was Jonathan, creeping up on them on all fours.
“So this is your little surprise, is it, Sacha?”
“What are you doing here?”
Jonathan pointed at Sacha. “He invited me. You didn’t exactly hide when you left. Luckily I don’t think anyone else noticed or cared. A couple of other boys came up, but they went off back to school. The water is getting cold now the sun has gone behind Star Point.”
“So now you know?”
“Sort of.”
“Well do you want to come, sort of? Pip can’t jump because of his appendix scar.”
Of all the boys at The Rocks, Jonathan was most likely to be game. Jonathan lay down besides Sacha and looked down. “It’s awfully high up and what about the rocks they keep talking about?”
“Those are over there.” Pip pointed them out to his right.
“Here you are okay. Just get as far out as possible and go in as straight as possible. It must be twenty feet deep here now the tide is in and look, you can see right to the bottom.”
Jonathan peered down, hands over his eyes. It didn’t take him long. He rose back onto his knees.
“Right then, the sooner the better, Sacha.”
“Okay, Pip, you’ve still got the whistle?”
“Of course.”
“Blow it and then we go. That should attract their attention in time for them all to see.”
Sacha gave up his tee shirt to Pip and then paced out a run up.
“Ready?”
The two boys looked at each other and nodded.
“Okay.”
Pip gave three long blasts on his whistle. He could see heads turning below.
“One, two, three…”
The boys ran side by side and leapt off the cliff, hands up and not by their sides. After a long second they entered the water cleanly with two simultaneous splashes. There was silence. Pip looked down, out of the boiling water two heads emerged. Jonathan gave a thumbs up. From below some whoops and cheers could be heard from the other boys. Gathering up Sacha’s tee shirt, Pip made his way down the path to the Cove again as Sacha and Jonathan emerged triumphant from the water.
Peter was not pleased, firstly because two Fifth Formers had broken the rules and secondly, even more so, because one of the rule breakers was his own brother.
“Sacha, you broke the rules. You know we are not allowed to jump there because of the rocks.”
“I know that. We checked. If you go in where we did it’s perfectly safe,” Sacha flared at his brother. The two brothers faced off to each other, but Clancy intervened.
“Stop it! We have to get this stuff cleared up. Otherwise we will never get permission to do this again.”
Peter turned away, his fist clenched. He had been meaning to teach his brother a well-deserved lesson in public, but Clancy’s intervention put a stop to that.
“Okay, but it was a damned stupid thing to do, Sacha. Come on, let’s get cleared up.”
The boys made their way up the cliff path to be met by Mr Durrant rushing in their direction.
“I heard someone give three blasts on the whistle. Was there a problem?” The question was addressed to Peter. Unhappily he found himself having to lie to a teacher in front of all the senior boys.
“Oh no, sir, just some dispute over the rules of water polo. That’s all.”
The smirks told Mr Durrant a different story, but he decided not to pursue it having counted all the boys and noting they were all present and did not appear to have come to any harm.
Back in the kitchen Cook was waiting for all the dishes to be returned. Sacha walked in with the missing cake tin without giving the matter any further thought. Jonathan who was laden with plates had given it to him along with several serving dishes, the remaining pieces of cake hidden inside his tee shirt for tonight. Cook spotted the tin straightaway.
“My favourite tin. I wonder where that came from?”
By then Sacha was leaving, but Cook noticed who had left it and she was not about to let the matter drop. As she left that evening, she mentioned the matter to Mrs Porter.
“Mrs Porter, a Fifth Former came back with an empty cake tin just now. I bet he took the cake earlier.”
“Which boy was that?”
“Oh, Peter Morgan’s brother, the red head.”
“Sacha? That is a surprise.”
*****