The Dog In the Chapel by Anthony McDonald

The Dog In the Chapel by Anthony McDonald

Author:Anthony McDonald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay sex, gay romance, gay love, teen sex, gay teen
Publisher: Anthony McDonald


In recounting the story of their weekend to Roger they had been careful – even Christopher had been – not to include the stories of the two surprise encounters that had played a major part in it. Both had good reason not to drag up memories of what the drunk monk had accidentally let out of the bag, and as for the Dexter problem, that had been dealt with, quickly and masterfully, by Tom, almost as soon as they were back in the building and before it could even become a problem.

Dexter was one of those boys whose parents brought him to school by car at the end of half-terms and holidays. Tom thought this was fortunate. Had he been one of the horde that arrived from London on the train no end of damage might have been done on the journey. For all the discretion and aloofness from common gossip that his prefect status demanded, Dexter was only thirteen after all – and only human. So Tom made a point of coincidentally appearing in the main cloister, ostensibly in a hurry to be importantly somewhere else, during the two-seconds’ gap between the boy’s farewells to his parents – Tom did not want to get into another round of hand-shaking and small talk with Mr Stephen and Mrs Artemia Dexter just two days after the last one – and his sprinting away to join his friends and perhaps imparting his astonishing news about Tom and Christopher being together in Boulogne, to say nothing of Tom embracing a young male stranger in the street.

‘Dexter,’ Tom said, in his cricket-umpire voice.

‘Sir.’ Dexter turned towards Tom and stood to attention, though without actually saluting.

‘My cousin spotted you in Boulogne yesterday, Dexter.’

‘Your cousin, sir?’

‘I have a cousin who teaches English in Boulogne. He spotted you waving from your parents’ car window. My back was turned or I would have returned your greeting. And talking of greetings, you might have been surprised to know that men kiss their male cousins in France, even when both of them happen to be English. Or did you know that already, Dexter?’

‘I knew that already, sir. It’s the same in Italy, sir. He doesn’t wear many clothes, your cousin.’

‘Unlike you and me, Dexter, who observe school hours and get up early, my cousin teaches in the afternoons and evenings, to business people mainly, after they finish work. For him ten o’clock in the morning is rather early to be up and dressed.’

‘I see, sir. Did you and Mr McGing have a good weekend in Boulogne, sir?’

‘Very good, thank you. You seem to have enjoyed yours as well. Your face is two shades browner with the sun.’

‘Thank you very much, sir.’ Dexter knew when a conversation had been wound up. He didn’t skid away round the corner as the younger boys did, but nodded fractionally and walked away with the dignity expected of a member of Lower Four who was also a prefect and a house captain, as though he too had to be, importantly, somewhere else.



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