Chapter 1

That year was the warmest on record for forty years, so the BBC said. The Sun said forty-five years, the Telegraph said forty-one. It was hot, we could all agree on that. There had been flash fires on the moors as the peat dried and warmed and caught. Some suggested they were deliberately set, some that an accidental match could start it. Extra vigilance required, that was the message. Generally, I think people took note.

The sailing holiday had been great, though I’d kept covered up a lot of the time. I burn easily even with the best sun cream. Though the chance of having a girl put sun cream on my back, and for me to reciprocate, was lost on me, I still enjoyed the sight of the girls in the crew, and other crews in bikini tops. Most wore shorts and a top. On my boat, only Mel lay in her bikini top and bottom, sunning herself until I told her to cover up. Melanoma wasn’t known then, sun burn was. Truth was I was having a job keep woody down at the sight of her tight little bottom covered (and I do mean covered) by pants which she would regularly slip down another millimetre if she could get away with it. One had to be careful, telling her she was exposing herself would be to admit one was looking – and I was! Her arse crack was slowly hoving into view and woody was not keen to ignore it. Telling her to cover up to prevent sunburn was a good excuse.

This was the annual mixed church camp, I was twenty now and in charge of one the boats. Every year the young people from several of the churches in the town would travel to the Lakes. We used to camp and hire large dinghies. By this time we had moved to taking over the Independent Youth Hostel for a week; still hired the dinghies though. A whole bunch of Wayfarers, large, stable boats where a group of four or five (or even six at a push) mixed crew could get to know how to talk to the opposite sex as humans rather than lust objects or aliens, learn to sail, and, of course, attend to the needs of religion (in the evenings). There was no effing or blinding when a boom hit someone’s head or a hand got caught between side and mooring post. It was great fun and I’d been going for several years; since I was fourteen in fact (the youngest age allowed, which was good); had my first snog, first girl friend, first cigarette – all in that first holiday. What’s not to like? Later years also saw first touch up, first break up, first unrequited love (lust) – Imogen, the most beautiful girl I (or any of the other boys) had ever seen. She is a model now, so it wasn’t just the hormones speaking, she genuinely was a cracker.

Now I was twenty; at university; maybe not quite such a virgin as I had been. But not some devil may care, free love, guy. I was a good boy to have as a boyfriend. Sam and I had been together most of the year, but she’d opted to call a halt in the late summer term; a decision I have to say I resented at first but agreed with later. We had been good company together but should never have been lovers. So, I was twenty and good enough now to have been given WY ~~3 to skipper. The ~~ was because the letters had fallen off the sail. Never knew what they were meant to be. We called it the Why Me.

On my boat I had Dave – fourteen, first time away with us, first time away from home, quiet, studious and, I could see, having similar challenges with his trousers as Mel lowered her bikini bottoms inexorably; Mel of course – fifteen years of burgeoning sexuality, she would leave the church soon, then later join a Christian Sect where the leader preached open relationships and be pregnant by seventeen; Tony – a girl of sixteen, pretty (as nearly every girl that age is) in a not very striking way, more of her later; and Geoff – also sixteen, never sailed before, hated it from day one and quickly opted to stay ashore and read instead. This kind of thing was discouraged, but accepted since some people just didn’t take to it; and having someone not willing to leap around a boat could put the others at more risk.

Tony shared her dorm room with Joanne and Sarah, seventeen and eighteen respectively. More of them later too. I spend a lot of time trying to encourage Dave and Mel to take more interest in sailing. “Yes, good, just try adjusting the sails. Pull in, see the bulge at the front?” Dave smirked, and I smiled at him; we shared a private moment. “That means the wind is getting in front of the sail. Let it out and see it flap? The wind usually doesn’t stay constant, so you have to keep an eye the sail all the time. No, don’t worry, it becomes second nature after a while, like staying upright on a bike” I think I succeeded with Dave, we stayed in touch for a while and he joined his school sailing club; I failed with Mel, who wanted a tan. I don’t think she was aware of her affect on Dave and me.

Tony, it was clear, could sail pretty well already. I made her my unofficial First Mate as I was confident she could cope with helming. By the end of that week we were both sailing the boat back to the moorings rather than the official policy of stopping in space and taking the sails down and rowing in. We were good at it. As long as we didn’t wreck the boat, a blind eye was turned by Commodore (Reverend Jones – ex- Olympic competitor). Even, once, when the wind was dead on shore, turning the boat head to wind, backing the jib and reversing in. I got chucked in the water by Tom, Harry and Mads for being a show off (since Harry and Mads were girls and had their hands all over me, I didn’t struggle too much).

You might think sex is appearing a little too much in a church ‘camp’ but we were all full of hormones and desire, religion doesn’t stop that, it maybe gives you more ability to resist, that’s all.

Tony was, of course, really Antonia; she’d opted for Tony rather than Toni to shorten it. Fair enough, I suppose. “I’m Tony, with a y she’d say” “Why?” people would ask “That’s right” she’d reply. As I said before, she was pretty in that standard sixteen year old way that girls have. Lithe I suppose is the term I’d use; somewhere between boyish and buxom. Some girls develop faster than others; Mel was more developed than Tony, and a year younger. Tony didn’t seem to mind. She was slightly wary of boys, I thought; but we got on well. I never made a pass at her or anything and perhaps that’s why I got the phone call.

She went to St Barnabas, the old church in the village on the edge of town. I went to The Mission. In 1870 it had been a mission to the new working class growing in the industrial western area of the town. Now it was more of a standard church, but still evangelical in outlook; lots of vibrant tunes; and lots of young people. I’d gone there in preference to Mum and Dad’s staid Methodist leanings. Dad went at Christmas, Mum went at Christmas and a few other Sundays. Not like they were dedicated Methodist or anything, but they still resented me leaving ‘their’ church. Tony Moran – another Tony, but he was the current leader at the Methodists – didn’t seem to mind, I met him a few times and I know he told Mum that it was better I went to the Mish than no-where.

The week after, I was in London and she was up at UCL looking at their History Dept. It was one of the outreach sessions that universities did periodically; supposed to encourage kids to think about university in the future. I doubt that it changed many minds. The middle-class ones like Tony (or me) assumed they’d go, the working-class ones probably didn’t go to these sessions because they had holiday jobs. She’d mentioned she was going (because they were fun things to do quite often) and we arranged to meet after for an hour. “Daddy’s booked a sailing boat! He said that since I could sail now we could all go and there would be enough to handle a large boat. I’m really looking forward to it.” This was in Greece. Did I mention how hot the summer was? In London it had reached thirty four centigrade (should use Celsius now I suppose), in Greece, people were dying in Athens of heatstroke. Highest so far was forty seven! Still, on the sea would be cooled. She was very excited. Her father had told her she could bring a friend. Tarquin, her brother was coming. She was liked him and loathed him in equal amounts, but at the moment, he was in her good books. She was so excited!

Chapter 2 »