The dormitory was huge and contained nearly thirty beds. It was smart in a spartan way, like an army barracks. The main difference was that there were no lockers. Within the Baron's estate, the boys owned nothing.
Jonathan felt sleep tugging at him and was happy to give in to its embrace. It seemed so long ago now since he had surrendered his clothes and every item in his possession to the guards in the gatehouse, but it had only been three weeks.
His memories were crystal clear, however...
It was a beautiful May morning. The sky above the remote Cambridgeshire train station was a pale, fresh blue. Jonathan stood on the grass verge with his rucksack on his back, sipping from his bottle of mineral water. The village was still asleep, the early sun casting long shadows and painting the red brick chimneys of the houses with a buttery glow. It was peaceful, idyllic.
Which was not how he felt. His heart was tripping over itself. In the cool sunshine he was sweating. Excitement and fear were mixed within him, perfectly balanced. He was alert, alive and acutely aware of everything around him.
The Land Rover appeared from around the corner of a slumbering pub and pulled up alongside him. The sound of the motor shattered the tranquility of his surroundings. Highly polished chrome gleamed. The driver was a fit man in his thirties dressed in a khaki green sleeveless T-shirt, black leather trousers and boots, with mirror-shade sunglasses.
“Jonathan Hawthorne?”
“Yes.” he replied, his voice too loud in his ears.
“Good morning, I'm Steve. Let's go and meet the Baron, shall we?”
A warm, strong voice, friendly but with an assertive tone to it. Jonathan climbed into the passenger seat, his rucksack on his lap. Steve smiled and turned the vehicle around, heading away from the village.
“Good journey?” the driver asked.
“Yes, thanks. How far is it to the Manor?”
“We'll be there in about half an hour.”
Jonathan nodded, his head full of questions but all of them whirling around like papers caught in a strong wind. He could not catch them and put them into any kind of order. This man probably thought he was stupid ... a posh dumb blond kid who doesn't know what he's getting into. He licked his dry lips and said “Are there many other boys there?”
“All your questions will be answered when we arrive.” Steve said, in that same warm but firm tone. No more discussions. The rest of the journey passed by in silence but for the sound of the engine. They sped down country lanes, past fields of wheat and corn, lazy-looking sheep and bored-looking cows. Deeper and deeper into the countryside they travelled, the sun slowly climbing, greenery blazing around them, swallowing them up.
Eventually the Manor appeared in the distance, a grand Georgian building behind a high wall. There were a few smaller buildings nearby, some of which looked newer, but no other dwellings were in sight. The Baron clearly had no immediate neighbours.
They pulled up to a large wrought-iron gate. Steve waved at a mounted CCTV camera on the wall and the gates opened. They drove up a long drive, past well-manicured lawns and well-tended flowerbeds. Jonathan admired the beautiful surroundings. It was like something out of a Victorian romantic novel. It was almost like stepping back in time.
Then he saw the first naked boys.
There were two of them jogging across the lawn. One was in his twenties, tall and fit, dark-haired and very handsome. The second was shorter, younger-looking, with a mischievous cute smile as he waved at Steve. The driver laughed and returned the wave.
Jonathan was struck by how comfortable they looked, totally naked in the brightening sunshine, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, he felt, it certainly should be.
Steve parked the Land Rover round the side of the Manor by some big wooden barns. He led Jonathan back to the front of the building and into the main entrance. A richly patterned parquet floor lay beneath Jonathan's feet as he followed Steve through a large, airy foyer decorated with plants, paintings and vases. It was obviously the home of a rich man, and a rich man who liked to live in comfort and style, but it was not over the top.
They went down a long corridor and emerged in a courtyard containing trees in blossom around an ornamental fountain. Stone cherubs cavorted in silvery splashing streams, their smooth nakedness gleaming.
They came to a building behind the main house and entered a large sports hall. Long wooden benches lined the walls and climbing frames led up to high windows. Sunlight came through them in slanted shafts. Their footsteps echoed in the big empty space. At the far end a large table had been set up, behind which sat a young red-haired man dressed casually. On a chair nearby sat a man dressed the same as Steve, but this man was older, about fifty or so, with close-cropped grey hair, very muscular with lots of tattoos decorating both arms. Behind the desk was a doctor's bench and a small trolley.
Steve closed the door behind them. “Jonathan Hawthorne!” he announced. Jonathan felt a little embarrassed, as if he was some kind of honoured guest who did not deserve the honour.
The tattooed man stood, beaming warmly. “Good morning, Jonathan! Welcome to Baron Michael's house. I am Gavin, I am in charge of security on the estate. This is Doctor Buckley, who is responsible for everyone's health and well-being. I trust you had a good trip?”
Gavin had a rich Welsh accent and a strong bearing, making Jonathan sense that he was in the presence of a military man. Probably ex-forces, he decided. Gavin reached out to shake hands, and his grip was characteristically firm.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Take a seat.” Jonathan sat down opposite the big man. “The doctor and I will be asking you some questions and conducting an examination. Now, you have received the Terms and Conditions of Service, and you fully understand and accept them?”
Jonathan nodded.
Gavin took a slim folder from the desk and brought out a copy of the document Jonathan had read in great detail many times over the past few days, wrestling with his indecision to undertake this adventure or not. “Once you sign, you are bound by the agreement for the minimum four week period. If you have any reservations, now is the time to voice them.”
Jonathan's mouth felt dry again. The two men regarded him calmly. This was all suddenly very real. It was not a game. Dr Buckley pushed a pen towards him, and Jonathan's hand was shaking as he picked it up.
This is it. No turning back. Part of him was terrified. Giving up control in this way was to step into an unknown world. He could say no thank you and leave, turn his back on this whole experience. Go back to his safe, cosy life.
Too safe. Too cosy. If you turn away now you will never know what could have happened. And how many times will you think back to this moment and feel regret?
Biting his bottom lip, he signed his name on the dotted line.
Gavin and the doctor exchanged smiles. Gavin took the document and filed it away. The doctor nodded and said “OK, Jonathan, take off your clothes.”
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