of whom was a founder member of the Alpine Club, while the other looked forward to reading Romantic poems aloud in suitable natural surroundings as much as to exploring Greek texts. ‘If it had not been for seeing you, I would have remained in London till our party leaves,’ continued Christian.
‘Would you, sir?’ In general, Jemmy called Christian nothing, but occasionally a ‘sir’ slipped out.
‘Don’t call me sir, Jemmy. I wonder why you find it so hard to say Christian.’
‘I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like the right thing, precisely. I don’t know why.’
‘What a foolish boy you are.’
Christian rolled over on his stomach, and smelt the hay-like grass. Then he raised his head.
‘Why don’t we bathe?’
‘Bathe?’ said Jemmy stupidly. ‘But you can only bathe in the sea.’
‘Wherever did you get such a notion? At Oxford everyone bathes in the river – surely you have done so before?’
‘I can’t swim.’
‘That’s of no importance, the water’s not deep. Don’t you wish to?’
Jemmy said:
‘Maybe, but someone might see us.’
‘Oh, that’s hardly likely, this is a very secluded place. Come.’ Christian got up, and took off his waistcoat and necktie.
‘They’d think it wrong, if they did see.’
‘Jemmy, there is nothing wrong, immoral, about nakedness. All the athletes were naked in Greece.’ Christian’s heart beat fast as he said this.
‘We’re not living in Greece,’ said Jemmy. He added: ‘And I was not thinking of being naked, I was thinking of the fish. They’d say we were disturbing the fish.’
Christian, surprised by this, merely said:
‘No one will see, I’m sure of it.’ He wanted to say something to the effect that despite mere appearances, they were living in Greece, but somehow found it difficult, as he never had before.
‘I don’t know,’ Jemmy told him.
‘Surely you know that not a soul has come near us since we got here,’ said Christian, a little impatiently. ‘Well, even if you won’t bathe, I shall.’ He unbuttoned his trousers, and stood before Jemmy in his shirt-tails. His ruffled, flyaway hair made a shaggy halo round his head. Then he removed his shirt and undershirt and stood naked. His figure was not beautiful, but it was better than his face: its only real fault was that it was too thin.
‘Come Jemmy,’ he said.
‘Very well, if you want,’ said the other; and slowly, with lowered eyes, he began to undress.
Christian did not watch this process, because he sensed that Jemmy did not want him to. Instead, he made his way down the short bank and through the fringe of riverside plants, into the cool of the water. Sharply sucking in his breath, he flopped down into it, and performed a few breast-strokes. A mental picture of white nude Jemmy was constantly before his eyes as he waited for the reality to appear. Suddenly he thought: I’ll teach him to swim. Now Christian saw himself holding Jemmy up in the water.
‘Is it very cold?’
Christian turned quickly, and then saw that Jemmy still had his shirt on.
‘It’s delightful. Take your shirt off!’
Rather roughly, Jemmy obeyed him, and cast the shirt away. He stood there with his arms dangling uncomfortably, and a faint breeze lifting his hair. Then at last Christian saw that his figure was just as he had imagined: there before him were the square shoulders, the slim hips and the little bottom all as white as a white-fleshed peach. Jemmy’s penis was not large, but was well-shaped and well-coloured, surrounded by light brown hair. Christian glanced at it, then raised his eyes quickly to the boy’s face, though an image of it remained in his mind.
‘Let me teach you to swim,’ he said, wading forward, showing his own ruddy penis above the water-line. The river was less than four feet deep even in the middle, and Christian knew it was not the best place for learning to swim. But it would do.
‘If you like.’ Jemmy trod uncertainly towards the river,
‘Would you, sir?’ In general, Jemmy called Christian nothing, but occasionally a ‘sir’ slipped out.
‘Don’t call me sir, Jemmy. I wonder why you find it so hard to say Christian.’
‘I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like the right thing, precisely. I don’t know why.’
‘What a foolish boy you are.’
Christian rolled over on his stomach, and smelt the hay-like grass. Then he raised his head.
‘Why don’t we bathe?’
‘Bathe?’ said Jemmy stupidly. ‘But you can only bathe in the sea.’
‘Wherever did you get such a notion? At Oxford everyone bathes in the river – surely you have done so before?’
‘I can’t swim.’
‘That’s of no importance, the water’s not deep. Don’t you wish to?’
Jemmy said:
‘Maybe, but someone might see us.’
‘Oh, that’s hardly likely, this is a very secluded place. Come.’ Christian got up, and took off his waistcoat and necktie.
‘They’d think it wrong, if they did see.’
‘Jemmy, there is nothing wrong, immoral, about nakedness. All the athletes were naked in Greece.’ Christian’s heart beat fast as he said this.
‘We’re not living in Greece,’ said Jemmy. He added: ‘And I was not thinking of being naked, I was thinking of the fish. They’d say we were disturbing the fish.’
Christian, surprised by this, merely said:
‘No one will see, I’m sure of it.’ He wanted to say something to the effect that despite mere appearances, they were living in Greece, but somehow found it difficult, as he never had before.
‘I don’t know,’ Jemmy told him.
‘Surely you know that not a soul has come near us since we got here,’ said Christian, a little impatiently. ‘Well, even if you won’t bathe, I shall.’ He unbuttoned his trousers, and stood before Jemmy in his shirt-tails. His ruffled, flyaway hair made a shaggy halo round his head. Then he removed his shirt and undershirt and stood naked. His figure was not beautiful, but it was better than his face: its only real fault was that it was too thin.
‘Come Jemmy,’ he said.
‘Very well, if you want,’ said the other; and slowly, with lowered eyes, he began to undress.
Christian did not watch this process, because he sensed that Jemmy did not want him to. Instead, he made his way down the short bank and through the fringe of riverside plants, into the cool of the water. Sharply sucking in his breath, he flopped down into it, and performed a few breast-strokes. A mental picture of white nude Jemmy was constantly before his eyes as he waited for the reality to appear. Suddenly he thought: I’ll teach him to swim. Now Christian saw himself holding Jemmy up in the water.
‘Is it very cold?’
Christian turned quickly, and then saw that Jemmy still had his shirt on.
‘It’s delightful. Take your shirt off!’
Rather roughly, Jemmy obeyed him, and cast the shirt away. He stood there with his arms dangling uncomfortably, and a faint breeze lifting his hair. Then at last Christian saw that his figure was just as he had imagined: there before him were the square shoulders, the slim hips and the little bottom all as white as a white-fleshed peach. Jemmy’s penis was not large, but was well-shaped and well-coloured, surrounded by light brown hair. Christian glanced at it, then raised his eyes quickly to the boy’s face, though an image of it remained in his mind.
‘Let me teach you to swim,’ he said, wading forward, showing his own ruddy penis above the water-line. The river was less than four feet deep even in the middle, and Christian knew it was not the best place for learning to swim. But it would do.
‘If you like.’ Jemmy trod uncertainly towards the river,
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