As I walked up the drivway to the typical 1930's semi detached home I thought that George had done well for himself.
I still flew but George had decided to retire early. I must say sometimes I envied him. I remembered the times we flew toghther, long haul, and how we had got to know each other quite well. He had never married although I know he would have liked a family. We discussed this often. He would ask how my own children were getting along, always showing a keen intereset in every detail of their upbringing.
I had accepted his invitation to meet his new adpopted sons. He invited me round for a lads night, as he put it.
I rang the doorbell. After a few minutes, and to my surprise a young lad, this must be Tom the eight year old, I guessed, opened the door. He was an attractive boy, slender but avarage height with light brown hair which fellinto his eyes, before he brushed it back. I was surprised to see him standing there dressed in only a pair of white briefs and a short teeshirt. I assumed this was his nightwear.
'Hello' I began, ''I am Richard, a friend of your dad''
The boy looked up and smiled at me. From the top of a stairway I heard the sound of George calling down ''Richard, good to see you. I am just putting Harry to bed. I'll be down soon. Tom will show you to the lving room. Tom, please fetcht a couple of lagers for me will you.''
I followed the boy into the front room and he indicated a soft chair for me to sit in. I glanced around the room. It was cosy.
After a few minutes I began to hear the sound of crying coming from upstairs. It was the unmistakable sound of a young boys crying but not constant, a sort of intermittant cry. I wondered what was wrong. About this time Tom arrived with a glass of lager. I was impressed that a boy so young was holding the glass carefully, my own sons would have spilt it, I thought.
''Is everything OK upstairs'' I asked the boy innocently''
''Oh yes,..... daddy is smacking Harry'' the boy replied in a matter of fact voice. He went and stretched out on his tummy, lying on the rug in front of the TV which was on but with the sound muted.
''Has Harry been naughty?'' I asked again just to keep the conversation going rather than out of any genuine interest.
''Oh no,'' the youngster replied ''Daddy is just giving Harry his bedtime spanking, thats all''.
I was a little shocked. The boys response implied that his younger brother received a regular spanking at bedtime, surely not I thought.
The cries from upstairs soon ended and there was peace and quiet. I heard Geaorge coming down the stairs.
''Hello mate, sorry about that, just had to deal with Harry, he can be a little difficult at bedtime''.
''Oh, not to worry, it is good to see you. I am looking forward to catching up on all your news, a familly man at last....that is great. Tell me how did you manage to get Tom here to be so polite. He is looking after me really well''
I looked down at the boy. His teeshirt had ridden up his back a little.
''How old are you Tom,'' I asked. The boy looked around and replied ''I'm eight sir''
I thought again, 'sir', what an odd term for a young boy to say in this day and age.
George and I continued to talk about the past as Tom lay watching a silent screen. After about twenty minutes George looked at his watch.
''Time for bed Tom'' he announced. The boy looked around with a pleading look on his face. I remembered the same expression on my sons faces when I told them to get off to bed. I noticed that the boys TV programme was still on the TV and thought that George might have let him watch till the end at least.
''Can't I stay up for a little longer daddy?'' the boy asked in a soft voice.
George immediately replied in a stern voice ''what did you say boy'', Tom looked nervous and now glanced over at me. I maintained a neutral expression, not wanting to interfere.
''Get into the corner'' George shouted.
Tom got up and walked quickly to the corner of the room. George got up fom his chair and marched over towards the standing boy. He turned off the TV as he passed it. Tom was standing in the corner and had begaun to cry now. His hands were on his head. George stood behind the boy and smacked him several times hard, I thought for a boy so young, in the middle of his small bottom. Tom was crying steadily now.
To be continued.... as my team is playing in the world cup match now.