THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SCHOOLBOY
A MEMOIR BY THOMAS TOMKINS, XII

Presented here with his kind permission is Chapter Twelve of the hitherto unpublished memoir of his youth of a retired English publisher written under the pen name Thomas Tomkins and finished in 2026.

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Chapter Twelve

I had a letter from Allan, inviting me to visit him for part of the Summer holiday.  Somewhat mysteriously, he wrote “there is someone I should like you to meet”. I suspected that I knew what he meant, and prepared myself to go to him but find someone else in possession.

So after a couple of weeks at home, during which I again managed to produce some sort of order out of the chaos in the office, I made my way to Allan’s cottage in the East Anglian countryside. I was not really surprised when the door was opened by a boy of around eleven, bright of eye and clearly intelligent. Allan came to the door, with a look of considerable relief when he saw that it was I. Of course this boy, Edwin by name (I did not discover his surname until many years later) was Allan’s new 'Young Friend'.  I wished him well; I was growing out of my youthful homosexuality and starting to think in terms of a girl-friend and even eventual marriage, but I still loved Allan dearly. I confess that, lying in my single bed, knowing that he and Edwin were together in the double bed next door, I felt a degree of jealousy, although I knew, beyond any doubt, that the love Allan had for me was as firm and secure as the Rock of Gibraltar.

Edwin was a lively child, much more active than I had been at his age, and rather inclined to “cheek” me. I could picture him in a couple of years’ time, in his first term at a Public School, being “festive” with a senior and receiving a “clip round the ear” in consequence.

But, to my surprise, we all got on well. We made a threesome, travelling around the area in Allan’s car and visiting all sorts of places. We spent another day in Cambridge, walking along King’s Parade and the Backs, taking tea at the Orchard in Grantchester (with, of course, bread and honey to eat), and shopping in the City. I was a little shabby at the time, as my mother was still not well off, and Allan bought me a beautiful pure white Guernsey which set off my fair colouring perfectly. (I have it still, and wear it only on very special occasions.)  I think Edwin was a little awed by Allan’s obvious affection for me, and exerted himself to be polite and well behaved.

Allan had said on several occasions that I was to regard his house as my second home, and during that holiday I took him at his word.  I returned towards the end of August. Edwin had departed (though he would be there again more than once) and I had Allan to myself. Since being there with Edwin, and especially since our memorable day in Cambridge, our relationship had matured into something quite new. He treated me as an adult, as if I were a friend of his own age, with my own tastes and likings. He had always treated my opinions with respect, demolishing them if that were necessary, but in a way that suggested that they were important, not merely dismissing them as youthful nonsense (though that was undoubtedly what at least some of them were). Now he put questions forward for discussion and called upon my knowledge of Classical language and civilization for illustration. I was – not flattered, for insincerity was something of which Allan was incapable - but delighted to be treated as if I were his intellectual equal. I no longer had a place in his bed, but instead I had a place in his esteem which replaced it, and the small bedroom with its single bed was understood to be mine whenever I chose to use it. My place in his heart I knew would be mine always.

* * *

I returned to Flamborough, to join the Classical Lower Sixth. We had a new Housemaster, Arthur Greenhalgh, who was young for such a responsible post, but filled it with great competence. The Headmaster had good judgement in appointing staff and very seldom made a mistake in this area.

I had gained a level of control over my sexual appetites which meant that I could masturbate once or twice a week with enjoyment, and indeed produce an ejaculation notable for both volume and distance, but had no need for the constant stimulation which had dominated the last three years. Tonks – bless him! – had left. I came across him several times over the years; his looks had improved and he had settled into a permanent and apparently faithful relationship with a homosexual man of around his own age. Following the Johnson affair, relationships between seniors and Flopsies had become both rarer and more discreet, and Housemasters were apt to patrol their houses, treading heavily and humming or coughing at frequent intervals. Certainly, within my remaining time at Flamborough there were no more scandals, and I never heard of any after I had left. Poor Johnson! I met him once, when we would have been in our forties.  He was working as a car salesman, and as one of the cars he was selling was of the kind I wished to buy, I was able to do him a small favour. I had little time for general chat, so I did not find out what were his domestic arrangements or whether he was married. What I did remember was the utterly crushed expression he had had when departing in disgrace.

Being in the Lower Sixth, I was expected to exercise a degree of authority over younger boys. My height and size helped – I was beginning to fill out by now – and I had become more outgoing and self-confident, for which Allan must receive most of the credit. Although the practice of giving “a clip round the ear” was still permissible, there was beginning to be a tendency for it to be regarded as a last resort rather than a routine treatment.

I had no sexual interest in younger boys, and girls – despite my almost total lack of experience of them – were forming an increasing proportion of my erotic fantasies.  I knew, in theory if not in practice, how conventional coitus was carried out as I had received some instruction in this from a senior boy who had, or who claimed to have had, some experience with a prostitute.

Actually, I think a boy or young man should receive instruction in this important matter from an experienced woman, preferably before embarking upon a serious relationship or marriage. An experienced older woman or, faute de mieux, a prostitute, is in a position to inform a young man as to the use of his tackle in conventional intercourse; the subsequent relationship or marriage can only benefit from it.

Continue to Chapter Thirteen