Dickerson! However, the die is now cast because I could hardly go back to Dr Muttley and say that I did not want to go with Uncle Robert to hear Prince Kochanski play.
Even if this were possible, what reason could I give? Anyhow, hopefully I have rearranged the assignment with Lizzie who understood my predicament. Certainly George and Johnny will hardly be concerned at my absence! When I went to inform Lizzie of the situation, I was just about to raise my hand and knock on her door, when it was flung open and out strode a dishevelled looking Addington! His face was flushed and he strode past me without a word, perhaps fortunately for me, not looking up to see who he was pushing out of his path.
Lizzie followed him out and looked up in surprise when she saw me standing there and said: 'Hello, Henry, what can I do for you?' I explained my predicament and, as I expected, she waved aside my apologies and remarked: 'Good heavens, if I had the opportunity to hear Prince Kochanski play, I would also be off like a shot!'
'I'm so glad you understand, Lizzie, I wouldn't want you to think I didn't fancy any more fucking,' I said with a grin. I was about to leave when I had an idea and added: 'Before I go there is one thing I would like to ask you. It's about that bounder, Addington. Why is he being so beastly to me? It's not that I've interrupted his pleasure like I did with Julian Clayton. Can you shed some light on the matter?' Lizzie puffed out her cheeks and thought carefully for a few moments before she replied: 'I think in this case I will break my rule of never discussing any boys personal problems with another, though, as ever, Henry, I will have to trust you to be completely discreet. 'To put it in a nut shell, Addington suffers from an inability to maintain an erection. His prick stays hard while he plays with my titties and even when I rub it, but he has an erectile difficulty when we attempt to fuck. I am sure that this has a great deal to do with the emphasis placed upon the immorality of sexual pleasures outside marriage at his last school. He really must rid himself of his worries about the evil consequences he will suffer unless he remains chaste until he finds a bride. 'I have told him many times that for many men, their cocks reflect the state of their emotional lives. When a man is relatively relaxed and happy, the odds are that his shaft will swell up without a problem. But if he is tense or depressed and is carrying the burden of feelings of guilt like Roger Addington, his prick will register these negative thoughts by failing to rise to the occasion. 'Alas, we haven't yet succeeded in keeping his cock up for a fuck, and I am forced to wonder whether he may, if you will forgive the pun, be more attracted to members of his own sex. In which case, he is much to be pitied for it is difficult in this country for those of that persuasion to live comfortable lives. I would have advised poor Oscar Wilde to leave these shores for France before his trial then he would not have found himself in prison.' 'Anyhow, whatever the reason, when Roger saw you talking to me he must have speculated that you had succeeded where he has so far failed and the thought that a younger boy has managed such a feat has made him angry and jealous.' 'Well I'm sorry for him but he doesn't have the right to take out his frustrations on me,'
I exclaimed warmly. Lizzie nodded her head in agreement. 'You're quite right, Henry,' she replied with a wry smile. 'And, in the circumstances, I think a simple white lie is called for – the next time I see Roger I will mention to him that I have told you that boys must wait until they reach the giddy heights of the Lower Sixth before I allow them to join my little circle.' Now that I am aware of the reason why Addington took such an instant dislike to me, I feel far easier in my mind, especially as Lizzie is taking pains to focus his anger elsewhere. I thanked her for her frank remarks, which I assured her I would not repeat to any one else at school. I took my farewell, promising Lizzie that I would attempt to secure Prince Kochanski's signature for her autograph collection.
PART IV.
If Music Be the Food of Love Thursday, November 15th, 1895 (just before Midnight)
I waited with no little impatience for this morning's lessons to pass and found it extremely difficult to concentrate on my work. I managed to get through History without being asked to contribute to the discussion, but I earned Mr. Hutchinson's scorn in Latin when I translated atque cruentum mandit humum as 'and entrusts himself to the blood-stained ground'. However, I hardly heard his scornful rebuke for I was thinking only of the concert this afternoon. I have loved good music since I was a young child and, though only of average competence on my chosen instrument, the violin, I do have the ability to appreciate the skills of a great musician such as Prince Kochanski.
My uncle, Sir Robert, is also a musical connoisseur and recently he purchased one of these new-fangled phonographs from the Army and Navy Store, together with a number of wax cylinders. However, though I marvel at the sound of Dame Nellie Melba coming from the giant horn of the machine, to be quite candid, the quality of reproduction is not of the best and the diva sounds as if she is singing inside a large tin can! Nevertheless, the phonograph is a marvellous invention and I am certain that Mr. Edison's brain-child will be improved, until one day we can hear whole symphonies being played in our drawing-rooms.
Be that as it may, at luncheon I gave my apple pie to George in order to rush back to the study as I wanted to wash and brush up and put on my best suit (as instructed by Dr Muttley) and at precisely three minutes to two, I was standing in the front hall looking down the drive for Uncle Robert's carriage. My uncle arrived almost on the dot of two and as the coachman drew the landau to a halt, my uncle opened the door and nimbly jumped out of the vehicle. He walked up the steps and came into the hall and shook hands with the headmaster who had rolled up to stand next to me. 'Thank you again for letting Henry come with me, I'll return him to you in good time as arranged,' said Uncle Robert cordially as Dr Muttley escorted us to the landau. 'Goodbye, gentlemen, I look forward to hearing all about the concert tomorrow morning,' called the headmaster. I waved back to him as the driver shook the reins and the horses clip-clopped over the gravel drive. I settled back in my seat and exchanged the usual pleasantries with Uncle Robert, but then our conversation took a surprising turn. 'Henry, my dear chap. I'm especially pleased that you have been able to come with me to Laversham Hall this afternoon,' said my uncle, looking at his pocket watch. 'For this gives me the chance to have a few private words with you.' I waited for him to explain further but he fell silent. I looked at Uncle Robert enquiringly and said: 'By all means, sir, what is it you wanted to say to me?' But Uncle Robert remained silent and I noticed that he did not look in the pink of condition. 'Uncle, are you feeling well? Forgive me saying so, but you look somewhat tired.' I enquired. He roused himself and muttered: 'I am, my boy, quite damnably tired and I'll tell you why. Do you remember Maria, that buxom young scullery maid your aunt engaged earlier this year?' 'Y-e-s-s, I think so,' I replied carefully, although of course only a few days ago I had recounted to Johnny and George how, on my last visit to Bacon Lodge, I had heard two of the housemaids gossiping about how Maria had earned a gold sovereign from my uncle for tossing him off. 'H'mph, I thought you might, young Henry,' said Uncle Robert and then he sighed and continued: 'Gad, she's a wanton little minx and, knowing as I do that you're a chip off the old block, I wondered whether you had poked her on your last visit to Bacon Lodge. I looked at him in slack-jawed amazement – was I dreaming or did this coarse comment really come from the lips of my esteemed uncle, the highly respected patron of the arts and close friend of such eminent personages as the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Dunton Green, Lord and Lady Laversham and even His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales? 'Come, come, Henry, there is no need to beat about the bush,' he said impatiently. 'I know you are no longer ignorant of these matters. Mrs. Mutkin informed me how she discovered you in my library engrossed in reading Mustapha Pharte's fascinating book on Eastern sexual practices. So I repeat, did you fuck Maria?'
'No, Uncle, I did not,' I stammered, not daring to admit I would very much have liked to. Uncle Robert grunted: 'You would have enjoyed the experience, my lad, she has the most enchanting little pussey which is always eager to welcome my old todger and that's why I'm so damnably tired. Young Maria is quite insatiable. For the last week or so, I've spent at least three hours a day lucking her until I've reached a point of total exhaustion.' He let out a heavy sigh and went on: 'Marriage is an excellent and most proper institution and I trust that when the time comes, you will have as satisfying and as comfortable a relationship as that granted to me with your aunt. However, when one's spouse loses interest in nuptial relations, it is a great temptation to look elsewhere for the pleasures of the flesh.' Uncle Robert looked hard at me and then he leaned forward and said: 'Now, Henry, the reason I am talking of these matters is simply this – several of the distinguished guests at this afternoon's concert have also succumbed to the lure of forbidden fruit, including an illustrious royal gentleman at the very highest level of Society. Now, being a smart lad, you have perhaps already guessed to whom I am referring.' It was not difficult for me to know whom he meant, for the bedroom antics of the heir to the throne are regularly documented in the pages of scurrilous French publications as well as in The Oyster and other homegrown journals of voluptuous
