The Boy Next Door
by Robert Symes
Part One
Lost
This story is set in rural England in 1974. The cultural references are from that time and place so I hope that references to cars or music won't spoil the story for those who don't know them. Follow the links provided for more information or just ignore them. (And yes, I know you can use a search engine just as well as I can. The links are for convenience, not to insult anyone.)
H/t to Pedro for the idea of reusing the same characters in different challenges. This story is a continuation of my previous challenge entry ' Soldier Boy ' which you should read first if you haven't already. There's a little poetic licence because I don't think the vehicle in the picture is really a Land Rover, it just looks a bit like one.
Trigger warning: Animal cruelty. The dog gets a happy ending but some of what happens before that may upset some people. It even upset me a bit and I wrote it. Nothing graphic, the cruelty is in the intent not the outcome.
As always it is this author's policy to have no opinions about anything, or at least not to state them. Any opinions you see on these pages are those of the characters or the site owner respectively and I neither endorse nor oppose them.
The week after Philip Caxton and Christopher Langley's strange adventure everything reverted to normal. The incident wasn't mentioned and they resumed their normal friendship in school and out of it. In truth, they both needed time to process what had happened and its implications.
But they hungered for more. When Chris mentioned that his mum and his brother Steve would both be out again on Sunday and asked Phil to come round he didn't hesitate and said he'd be there as soon as he got back from lunch with Gran. Then he spent the intervening days nervously wondering what might happen.
On Sunday Philip got home after lunch and changed. He was glad the early March weather still required a coat. Luckily he was able to leave the house without anyone noticing his trousers or footwear. On arrival Chris told him to take his coat off and come into the kitchen for a drink.
When Philip went into the kitchen Chris turned to talk to him. And only then noticed that he had dressed in his army cadet uniform and highly polished boots. "Oh, wow, you remembered. And you look good, really good. That uniform suits you. Very macho and sexy. Drink?"
"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself. Coffee please."
They chatted as they drank their coffee but there was a nervous tension as they both wondered what was coming next. Then they went up to Chris's room. For want of a better idea they decided to repeat last week. Chris put ' Avalon ' on the stereo and they got undressed.
Chris stared at Philip. Then he swallowed nervously. "I've changed my mind" he said, to Philip's initial disappointment. "Can I do you first?"
"What do you mean do me first? Do what to me?"
"Just... You know. With the hand. What we were going to do anyway, but I'll do it to you. And then you can do it to me if you want. Or not, whatever."
"You mean you want to toss me off?" clarified Phil. "Okay, we can try that. Why not? Could be fun." He lay face up on Chris's bed. "Ready when you are."
Chris knelt by the side of the bed, his back to the window, and nervously reached out. He knew what to do, after all he'd done it to himself often enough, but it felt strange trying to do it to someone else, much as he wanted to.
It was a little awkward at first but he soon learned how to grip comfortably and he got into a rhythm. He thought he must be doing something right as Philip lay back and closed his eyes, gasping with pleasure.
After a few minutes of this Chris felt Philip get even harder in his hand and then his ejaculate spurted out in several long bursts and then some shorter ones. Chris was almost disappointed; he was glad he'd achieved his objective but he'd been enjoying the feeling of giving his friend pleasure.
Philip was still breathing hard. "Fantastic!" he said happily, smiling. Then he opened his eyes. "Oh shit! Look!" He pointed to the window. Chris turned his head to look. There was a ladder outside propped against the masonry above the window and a lad a few years older than them stood on it staring in at them looking shocked.
Chris jumped up and walked over to the window, covering himself with his hand until he could shelter behind the wall. He opened the window and confronted the intruder. "You thought no cars means no people? Too bad for you, we're here. So piss off before I call the cops."
The boy on the ladder looked at him, confused. Then the penny dropped. "You think I'm a burglar?" He laughed. "No, mate, I'm here to clean out the gutters for a Mrs Langley. Your mum I expect, or maybe his. Didn't she tell you?"
"Oh." Now Chris was embarrassed. And frightened. "She did say something about it but she never said it was today. Look, what you saw..."
"Is none of my business or anyone else's" the boy interrupted. "And I won't get much work if I make trouble for the customers, or give them bad news. But you might want to close the curtains next time. I wasn't expecting an X rated show and I nearly fell off me ladder! Draw them now and I'll be gone soon enough."
"Good advice" added Philip over his shoulder. He was now sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the window, cleaning himself with toilet paper. "Shut the window, close the curtains, and get over here. It's my turn now."
When Mrs Langley returned home a little after five she found the boys talking in the kitchen, Philip dressed in casual clothes he'd brought with him, as Chris peeled the potatoes for their evening meal. He told her a somewhat edited account of being surprised by the boy on the ladder.
"Oh, yes, Milo" she replied. "I did ask him to do the gutters but I thought he'd do them in the week. I did tell you but I suppose it must have been a shock to look up from your homework and see him right outside your window. When you've finished that could you nip round and pay him for me? He's staying at old Mrs Jenkins' house."
"I thought no-one lived there now since she had to go into hospital?"
"They don't. But her mind's gone, poor dear, and she can never go home, it wouldn't be safe. So her children sorted the house out and it's been sold to someone who does renovations. I don't think it's in very good condition. I think Milo's working for him. Anyway he's staying there a while. You don't mind just popping round do you?"
"No, of course not." Chris could hardly tell his mother why he was nervous about seeing Milo again. "Phil's got to go home soon so we can call there first and then I'll come back here."
Philip and Chris walked up the weedy driveway past the overgrown front garden of Mrs Jenkins' former home, a large, double-fronted detached Victorian villa, now sadly dilapidated. Chris pressed the doorbell and nothing happened. So he banged on the door with his fist.
Furious barking erupted from inside, followed by a familiar voice complaining "all right, Lucky, I heard you the first time. If it's Jehovah's Witnesses you can eat them okay? Don't know who else it can be." The door opened and Milo regarded them. "Oh, it's you two. What can I do for you?"
"It's more what we can do for you" explained Chris. "Mum asked me to bring your money. She said there's a bit more than agreed to thank you for being so prompt and giving up your Sunday and she's got a few more little jobs if you're interested."
"You'd better come in then. Lucky won't hurt you. It ain't much but it's home." As they went in Lucky decided that if Milo liked them that was good enough for him and rushed to greet them. Lucky was a fairly large dog of indeterminate breed, possibly a cross between a poodle and a great dane, thought Chris, if such a copulation were physically possible. But the dog was very affectionate. "Sorry. You do like dogs I hope?" asked Milo.
"Love them" said Philip, petting the dog. "He's lovely. And he seems to like us. Can we keep him?"
"Sorry" laughed Milo. "Lucky's a girl. And she's going nowhere, she's had enough trauma in her life." He stopped laughing abruptly. "But if I ever catch up with her last owners you can look after her while I'm in jail. Come on." He led the way to a room at the back.
In one corner was a sleeping bag on an old mattress. In another a makeshift kitchen had been improvised. Power for this, a lamp, a TV, radio and electric fire came from an extension cord whose lead disappeared out of the window. "Don't touch that" cautioned Milo. "It's probably completely illegal but the boss made an arrangement with the people next door. There's no services here so we draw power from the socket in their garage, water from their outside tap and I can use their outside toilet when I need to. But if I try to draw more than 13 amps the fuse will blow so I can't use the kettle and heater at the same time. But my previous address was 'Old Land Rover , parked inconspicuously somewhere' so this feels like the Ritz ." A couple of battered old kitchen chairs completed the furnishings.
"Oh, right." Chris didn't know what to say about the room so pulled two pound notes out of his pocket. "Here's the money Mum gave me for you."
"Wow, two quid for a couple of hours on a Sunday. That's very generous. Tell her thanks a lot and I'll definitely be interested in anything else she wants done. I'll be here a while, this place needs a lot of work and we don't want kids or squatters getting in while it's empty. They won't get past me and Lucky!"
"Yeah, about that" Philip wondered. "You said she'd had trauma and if you meet her last owner you'll be in jail. What's the story there, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Ah. I don't mind but I may get emotional. It still upsets me to think about it. I was parked up in this lay-by in the middle of nowhere for the night when one of those posh Rover saloons pulls in. K reg, so '71 or '72. If they can afford that they can afford to care for a dog properly. But they either didn't see me or didn't care 'cos the bloke got out, opened the back door and pulled the dog out. Then he got back in the car and drove off, leaving her to fend for herself. Bastard! How the fuck is a domestic dog supposed to survive in the wild? But it's easier and cheaper to let her suffer and starve than do the right thing and find a new home or even have her put down humanely by a vet.
"That's how she got her name. She's lucky he let her live, and lucky I was there to take care of her. And lucky we got a decent cop. I called them and gave them the car number and said what happened and met him at the lay-by. I put her in my car to drive to the phone box and back. She was so shaken and frightened it breaks my heart. The cop said he'd put in a report but probably nothing would happen but if he saw the Rover he'd report them for driving with a broken headlight. I said it didn't have a broken headlight and he just patted his truncheon and said 'yet.' I memorised the number plate and if I ever see that car it'll be more than just a headlight!
"Anyway he said he'd have to take the dog to the pound and if it's not claimed in a week it gets put down. I said can I keep her and he said no that's not allowed. Then he winked at me and said 'Remind me again sir, you came here to walk your dog here when they dumped this other dog but it ran off and you don't know where it went. Is that what happened?' Of course I can take a hint and I said it was.
"Then I heard about this place through the grapevine, went to see Mr Jenkins whose mum used to live here and asked if he needed a house sitter and he told me they were selling it to Mr Davis the builder so I told him I'd take care of it for nothing if he'd give me a job so here we are. Just as well, really, living in the car with Lucky was a bit cramped and my savings were running low. There's other ways to get money but I won't do that unless I really have to. Now I'm scratting around for any odd jobs because I can't start here until the sale completes and that's at least another week. Your two quid really helps. I can go to the laundrette and supermarket tomorrow now. Anyway that's how we ended up here together."
"And is the dog okay now?" asked Philip. "She seems happy enough."
"She is when she's with me" replied Milo. "But she hates being left alone and she's nervous as hell in the car. She sits next to me in the middle front seat and I have to keep comforting her. And she absolutely will not go in the back, gets really distressed if I even open the door."
Chris was looking thoughtful. "Wait here, I'll be five minutes." He left, leaving Milo and Phil to discuss dog psychology and whether doggy PTSD was possible and in less than five minutes he was back. "You're both invited for dinner" he announced.
"You know I'm wanted at home" Philip reminded him.
"I meant Milo and Lucky. But if you want to feed her bring food and a bowl, we haven't got any. And Mum doesn't want hairs on the carpets so she stays in the kitchen. I had to grovel for even that. But if you bring your laundry you can use our machine after we eat and you can have a bath if you want, I'll stay with Lucky while you do. And Mum's got a job for you tomorrow if you want it. And if you meet us after school tomorrow we'll dog-sit while you do your shopping if it helps."
"Yes thank you to all of it. You're a life saver!"
"If you keep your mouth shut about earlier so are you."
"I would anyway, you don't have to bribe me."
"It's not a bribe it's a favour. Mum enjoys helping the needy. So do I. But you may have to suffer a lecture about the world's dwindling oil supplies and the evils of President Nixon if she learns you drive a Land Rover. But we need to get going, it's quarter to now."
Philip said a hasty goodbye and shot off, the others returned to the Langleys' laden with laundry bag, dog food and bowl.
Chris, Milo and Mrs Langley ate their meal and Lucky enjoyed a can of dog food. "I prepared enough for Steven as well, that's my elder son" explained Mrs Langley. "But he helpfully didn't tell me until this morning that he's not back until late so I'm glad you're here to eat what would have been wasted. I hate waste. Now I have another job I want done if you're interested. Can you be here at eight tomorrow morning?"
"I certainly can" replied Milo. "Thank you. But I need to finish by 3:30 if that's okay. I'm meeting Chris and his friend after school to do some shopping. And do you mind if I bring the dog? It really upsets her to be left alone."
"Well, the job is in the garden so you can bring her but you both stay outside. The laundry room's built onto the garage so if you put your washing in tonight I'll start it going first thing. Then you can spin it while I show you the job and hang it on the line. I need to leave for work about 8:30. You can finish when you want. If the job's not finished come back the next day, same time. Okay?"
"Absolutely. Thank you. I'll see you in the morning then."
"You don't have to rush off do you? Chris said you wanted a bath? I'll show you the bathroom and you can use it while we wash up. Did you bring clean clothes and a towel?"
While Milo had his bath Chris and his mum washed up. Lucky kept whining and looking anxiously at the door Milo had left through and Chris explained the dog's unfortunate history. When Milo returned Lucky's joy and relief were obvious.
"Now then young man" Mrs Langley was in teacher/authority mode. "Do you want to tell me why you're living rough, first in a car then camping in an uninhabitable house?"
Milo shot Chris a reproachful look. "Not really, no. I'm not a runaway child, I'm over eighteen and I'm not wanted by the police as far as I know. Let's just say I was living with my parents in [town] when I had to leave suddenly. Luckily I had been working long enough to pass my test and buy a car and I had savings in the bank but they're running low now. I got this job just in time."
"You were living in [town]? And your name's Milo? Are you Milo Stanford? I thought it was a coincidence with such an unusual name."
Milo stared at her. "How the... sorry, how on earth did you know that?"
"Victor's mum is a teacher isn't she? Did Chris tell you that I am too? We go way back, and we keep in touch. You should phone Victor and at least let him know you're alright. Miriam said he was devastated when you just vanished like that."
"But he said I'd ruined his life and he never wanted to see me again! But if you know about that I suppose you won't want to employ me or have me anywhere near your son." Milo looked despairing. "Are you going to tell Mr Davis?"
"I'm not going to tell anyone. And I don't think I like what you seem to think of me, frankly. But I still want my garden done. And I trust my son to tell someone if he's in any trouble but from what I've heard of you I won't need to. Miriam said you're a good boy apart from... no, you're just a good boy. We none of us can help who we're attracted to; God knows I ought to know that if anyone does. I won't be throwing any stones from my glass house. I think you'll be a good role model for my son and his friends, there's too much conformity round here.
"And I don't know too much about it but I think if Victor said that it was in the heat of the moment at a very traumatic time. And by the time he calmed down you'd vanished. Please talk to him and give him a chance to explain. If you want to thank me for tonight help me help my friend and her son. The phone's in the hall."
Lucky fretted but was partly reassured by hearing Milo's muffled voice through the door. Mrs Langley explained the little she knew. Her friend Miriam's husband had come home unexpectedly to find their eighteen year old sixth form pupil son in bed with what he referred to as "a bit of rough trade from the factory" and blown his top. He had calmed down later, but not before the news reached Milo's employer and parents, none of whom were forgiving so he was jobless, homeless, and gone, leaving Victor bereft.
"Why would he tell all those people?" Chris wondered.
"I really don't know any more than I told you. He probably didn't. You know how gossip spreads once a few people know. Especially something like that."
Milo came back in. His eyes looked like he'd shed tears but he was smiling now. As soon as he sat down Lucky rushed over to offer comfort if needed, with that sixth sense for emotion that dogs seem to have. "I'm so glad I met you" he told Mrs Langley with feeling. "It's like providence or something. If I hadn't stopped at the garage here to get diesel and ask about work... If you didn't stop to fill your Citroen at the same time... I've really fallen on my feet here. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me."
"Very little really, just an introduction and some surplus food. But perhaps whatever Power runs the universe had a hand in it. What are the chances my friend's son's lost love turns up in my village just when I'm filling my car? Does this mean it went well with Victor on the phone?"
"Better than well. Sorry I talked so long and ran up your phone bill. Tomorrow is ' on the house ' as a thank you. You were right. Victor said what he did when he was panicking what his dad might do and really regretted it after, but I left before he could tell me. He said his mum really tore a strip off his dad when she knew what happened and he sort of apologised, said perhaps Victor was the innocent victim but he's glad I've gone and if I've got any sense I won't be back. Well, he's right there, I wouldn't exactly get a warm welcome.
"Anyway we're going to meet at the seaside next weekend. Victor says he can blag a static caravan off a family friend who won't use it this early in the year so if Mr Davis will let me I'll stay over and drive back Sunday afternoon. It sleeps four so if Chris wanted to tag along and maybe bring a friend he'd be welcome. I owe him a thank you too."
"You'll have taken a great weight off an old friend's mind. Tomorrow is double pay as a thank you" insisted Mrs Langley. "Don't argue, you can't afford to if you've got to drive that big old bus any distance. I'll save the environment lecture for another time but the fuel bill speaks for itself. And Chris will want to bring Philip of course. You can probably give those two some good advice. And tell Mr Davis I can leave my car in your drive if it helps."
Chris stared at her. "What does that mean, Mum? Good advice about what?"
"I'm your mother, dear, and I'm not blind. Or deaf. But I don't want to hear the details. And I don't think we should say anything to Steven just yet. Certainly not while Milo's working here. He's my son and I love him but his sexist machismo makes me despair sometimes. So you have a nice weekend away and we'll all pretend there's nothing to pretend about, okay?"
Chris was aghast, and beginning to panic. "Oh my GOD!! If you mean what I think you do then you can't say anything to Philip's family. Or to anyone really. If this got out... Oh my God! Please Mum, it's so important!"
"STOP!" she commanded. "Now calm down. And breathe. And listen this time please. Did you hear what I said? I said 'we none of us can help who we're attracted to' and I said I won't be throwing any stones from my glass house and I said we'll pretend it's not real and keep it from your brother at least for now. Why would I tell anyone else? It isn't their business anyway. Why would I make trouble for my own son? Or for Philip come to that, I like him.
"Now I want to take some time to think and maybe get some confidential advice from people who won't give us away and then we can sit down calmly and talk. But that won't be tonight.
"Now time's passing and I have some prep to do for tomorrow so if you don't mind, Milo, I'll show you where the washing machine is and then you can take Lucky back to a place she knows, I'm sure she'll appreciate it. But then I think we're all lucky tonight."
"Thank you Mum" said Chris as they all stood up. "I thought if you and Dad ever found out you'd be supportive but I suppose I just panicked. Sorry I doubted you."
After school the next day Philip and Chris didn't catch their usual bus. Instead they walked out of school and looked around. Milo was leaning against a 1963 LWB Land Rover parked in the road. "Thanks for helping me out with this. Do you mind using the back seat so Lucky can sit with me? She's still not good in cars. Maybe one day she'll learn to trust me."
They all got in the car where Lucky was sat on the front seat looking unhappy. She was calmer when the doors were shut and the vehicle moving and stared ahead through the windscreen. Chris gave directions to the local supermarket and they pulled into a nearby car park. "I won't be long" Milo promised as he jumped out and left them to try to comfort an anxious dog. Their presence did seem to reassure her that if she was abandoned they all were and the humans didn't seem worried.
Soon Milo returned with bags of shopping that he put in the back. He got in the driver's seat and patted the dog. "Looks like we can eat tonight now, girl." He started the engine and drove them back to Mrs Jenkins' former house. "Coming in for coffee?" he asked.
While Milo put his shopping away Chris asked diffidently "What my mum said about you giving us good advice? Well... Did you really have some sort of affair with this Victor? Because me and Phil... Well we're er... well, not exactly but..."
Milo couldn't help laughing. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh but you don't have to be so nervous. I was there, remember? Right outside the window while you were 'er well not exactly but' right in front of me! And I heard what your mum said to you. And we had 'some sort of affair' alright! Very much alright actually. We were the talk of the town. Or I was anyway. The way his dad told it Vic was shocked by my perverted advances and I didn't contradict him. Suits me; Vic still has to live there and I don't. I still miss him though." He suddenly looked bleak and petted the dog. "God, do I miss him! It's just you and me now girl. Unwanted waifs and strays together."
Chris was rueful. "I didn't think I'd ever forget that but it slipped my mind somehow. So you know. But what you saw is about all we know. I mean... we've got some idea... but maybe you could teach us stuff? And could we maybe use your room sometimes instead of having to wait for Mum and Steve to both be out?"
Milo thought for a minute. "You're not shy when you want something are you? You two are what, fourteen? I thought so. Well, I'll give you advice. But I won't do anything with you, and I won't watch you, and I won't let you watch me do anything even if I had anyone to do it with. And I don't want you doing anything in my bed; I'm not sleeping in your spunk! But I might let you use an upstairs room if it's warm enough and I can be sure the boss won't find out. I'll think about that."
"Advice is all we wanted" Philip assured him. "That's what Chris meant by 'teach' us things. He meant tell us not show us, and we sure as hell don't want you watching us. That was bad enough the first time! But you're a few years older and a lot more experienced and we don't really know what we're doing so if you've got any tips..."
"Ah, right, got it. That's a relief. In that case here comes Professor Stanford's Sex Education lecture on what they don't teach you in school. Listen carefully, there will be homework for the weekend. Are you sitting comfortably ? Then I'll begin."
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