Chapter 2

We settled back into a new routine, and Jakub seemed to be responding to our English Immersion regime. Yelka, in particular, seemed to be taking an interest in his training and was working on self-defence. I was, I suppose, a little concerned, but from what I could see her attitude was more parental than anything else. The girls scampered round the grounds with him, playing tag, or hide ‘n’ seek. I continued with the air-pistol training, and supervised as the girls practised with the long-bow.

Regular, healthy food, acceptance, and interesting activities began to bring him out of his shell. A couple of weeks after my call to Jonny, though, we got another call.

“Jerry? Jonny again. Look, I’ve found a Turkish speaker, and I’d like him to chat to Jakub, if that’s possible.”

“When did you have in mind? Right now he’s rampaging around the woods with the girls.”

“How about after lunch? One-thirty? Two?”

“Let’s say two, Jonny. I’ll try to explain to Jakub when they come in; obviously communication is still limited at the moment.”

“Good enough. Look, Yusuf Babaoğlu will ring you at two o’clock.”

“Thanks, Jonny.”

“Any time! By the way, I think Sue wants to visit to check Jakub over. She’ll drive up, do the physical, take some bloods and so on, and leave you in peace the next day.”

“She’ll be very welcome. We look forward to seeing her.”

“Great! Look after yourselves. Bye!”

The three youngsters came in, somewhat dishevelled and grubby. Amongst other things, they’d been climbing trees. Sally sent them off to shower and change whilst she was putting lunch on the kitchen table.

I did my best to explain. I don’t know how much penetrated, but Jakub – with Yelka on one side and Lena on the other, sat in my study as I took the call.

“Jakub, this is a man called Yusuf, who would like to talk to you...”

Obviously, the conversation meant nothing to us, and took about twenty minutes. At the end, Jakub handed the phone to me.

“Mister Smallbridge? Yusuf Babaoğlu. I think I’ve got what there is to get for now, anyway. Your guest was acquired from a small-holding, somewhere near the Turkish border. Exactly where we’ll probably never know. He doesn’t even know his family name and has only very basic reading and writing. I’m sure I don’t need to go into what was done to him. He’s confused, but seems to be thriving in your setting.”

“Thanks. Any suggestions?”

“Do you grow any of your own vegetables?”

“Some, sure.”

“Encourage him to look after your patch. Gardening, or farming, is about the only thing he knows other than deviant sex.”

That was easy enough to do; he knew about the vegetable garden, of course. I only had to show him where the key was to the tool-shed, and take him with me to do some hoeing. The girls had helped with the patch, but he soon made it clear that this was ‘his’ patch. It was not for the girls, or Sally (except that she was allowed to choose and pick, say, a lettuce) and I was permitted to help under, I think, sufferance. But he’d have breakfast and go straight out to tend the patch. We had a very dry, hot spell in April, and he watered scrupulously, dipping water from our well, rather than from the water-main.

He still played with the girls, and the three of them exercised and practiced katas in the gym, under my supervision.

Sue Schraeder, Jonny’s wife, and a doctor, visited about four weeks after Jakub arrived. She gave him a very thorough physical and took bloods for probably every test under the sun. She left a passport for him, and Sally and I signed documents making him our responsibility. It was difficult, emotionally, rather than practically, to keep our distance from Sue, and wear masks and so on while she was with us, but we did. Still, it was pleasant to have the visit from a friend and see a different face. She left the following morning, with a cool-bag full of samples, to head south for her home.

That evening, we were sitting in the lounge, watching a nature programme. Sally was snuggled into my right side, Yelka leaning against my right leg and Lena against my right. Jakub was sitting on the settee too, a couple of feet away from me. That lasted maybe five minutes, during which I noticed that he kept glancing at me, or us.

Then Yelka moved her hands somehow; I just caught a movement out of the corner of my vision. Jakub hesitated, but shuffled closer. I lifted my left arm, and he slid in under as if we were magnetic.

I was not the only one who sighed...

There was nothing in the news except Coronavirus figures, but Jonny’s organisation had its own tendrils out. He called us to let us know that a house had been investigated about ten miles from us, where there had been at least three Covid-19 deaths. There was some evidence that the house had been associated with under-age sexual activities – seized computers contained illegal images – but there had been no way to associate anyone else with the place. Still, that one place at least was closed down. He also let us know that Jakub’s tests had all proved negative.

Sally and I, well, our relationship, as you’d expect, had been changed. Junior was probably the biggest change, but the girls had been a positive factor, too. The addition of Jakub, well ... I suppose I was the most worried about him. Why? Because I wasn’t too happy about the introduction of a teenaged male into our household. Sally reassured me, though.

One thing that did not change was the joy Sally and I took in each other. The presence of the girls had reduced the number of occasions on which we could spontaneously make love during the day. Morning blow-jobs became rare. But she still insisted on nudity whenever possible, even after our acquisition of Jakub. But feeding Junior gave us opportunities. During the day, the youngsters watched, fascinated, as Sally fed him, then one of the girls, usually Yelka, would take him, change his nappy, and either put him down to sleep or play with him. Sally and I could then retire to our room and I would give her an orgasm or two whilst emptying the breast Junior hadn’t finished.

At night, after a last feed, the girls being in bed, Sally would change Junior and put him down, and I’d empty her breast, followed by any one (or two, or more) ways of joining that we enjoyed. That ensured a great sleep. Sometimes Junior slept through the night, but if he didn’t, I didn’t mind waking to take care of Sally’s needs...

As lockdown was eased, we walked further afield, or went sailing. Jakub began online schooling, which was good, because his English, while it was rapidly improving, was a way away from being good enough to cope in the classroom. He was, at least, on the roll at the same school as the girls.

My concerns about having a teenaged boy in the house with Yelka and Lena faded. It became apparent, firstly, that the girls saw him as a much younger brother, even though he was within a couple of years of their age. Indeed, he both looked and acted more like a nine or ten year old, than his actual fourteen. Secondly, it appeared that his gender identity had been distorted, to use Sue Schraeder’s description, by his treatment. Hopefully, as he lives with us he might settle into an identity which at least works for him. I’m old-fashioned enough to hope it’s, I think the term is ‘cis-normal’. Whatever happens, though, we’ve come to love him and wish the best for him.

In the meantime, we’re pretty safe. Will there be a second wave of the virus? Who knows? I’m selfish enough to keep my family as safe as I can and stand on the sidelines of the tragedy enfolding the world.

Well, I was just writing that, when my phone rang...

“Hello, Jerry. I have a problem, and I hope you and Sally can help.”

“How? If we can, we will, of course.”

“We’ve identified a possible ... hub ... of activity. Near a little place called Quernmoor...”

“That’s ... south-east of Lancaster.”

“You know it? Yes, that’s right. It’s close enough to Lancaster for their purposes, but rural enough to be discreet.”