My tutor was not a teacher at all. He was a student at the university in town that my dad had met somewhere. He was like my dad and liked to punish me a lot.
Dad and I had been alone for two years. I was eleven and my kind school had informed my father that, unless I put in much greater effort during the vacations , I would fail to gain entry to the public (private) school that my father had chosen for me to attend when I left my prep school at the age of twelve.
The term time was OK, I only had adad to keep happy. In the evenings (I attended a day school) my friend's mother would take me home with him to their house my dad would collect me and take me home. I used to hope he had had a good day at the office and would not be in a bad mood with me.
The day of the summer hols began with a knock at the door. I was in my play clothes and Dad was upstairs getting into his suit. He was complaining about the heat and why he had to wera a tie to the foffice, or something like that, to be honest I rarely paid that much attention to what he was saying when he was grumpy, unless that is, I heard my name Philip, being called. That meant trouble.
My Dad called and told me to anwswer the door.
It was Mr Booker. He was quite tall and thin. He wore an old fashion tweed jacket and smart slacks. He smiled at me and I instantly knew that I did not like him. He looked down at me in a disapproving manner and we introduced ourselves. I had expected someone older, I remember.
Dad came downstairs and led Mt Booker and me inot his study. I saw that his thin cane was on the desk. Oh no! What now. I looked at Mr Booker and saw him glance at the cane. It was what dad called the junior. I hated it just like I hated the other one. Mr Booker turned to me and grinned. Dad explained that mornings woyld be lessons and afternoons Mr Booker had agreed to take me to the park.
He asked Mr Booker what I shoulkd call him and he replied that I should call him 'sir' as He was to teach me. I was used to calling my teachers sir so that was no big deal.
Dad asked what clothes I should wera and Mr Booker told him that he thought I should wera school uniform in the mornings for lessons and play shorts and teeshirts in the aftrenoon.
Dad looked at me and explained that Mr Booker wold be ounishing me if necessary if I did not work hard and that I was to do well in the tests that would be set to monitor my progress.
With that Dad said goodbye and told me to go and change into my uniform,''for Mr Booker' he added.
I was well pissed but had no option so trudged upstairs to cahnge.
''Dont be long young man' I heard Mr Booker call as he closed the front door.
What the heck, I thought. This was going to be terrible. It would not be long before this guy would use dads cane I thought but I better not invite it sooner than needed so I hurried to change.
A few minutes later I saw that Mr Booker had taken up position in my fathers desk chair and my smaller desk was positioned facing Dad's desk.
There was a pile of books and papers on one side of the desk and Mr Booker was holding Dad's cane in his hands.
''Come and stand facing me Philip' he said
''yes sir' I replied in my most polite voice.
''I don't suppose you would like me to whack you with this noice thin cane, would you Philip?''
''No sir,'' I replied.
''Well lets see how smart you are shall we and then we can begin our lessons for the morning. Have you visited the bathroom, apart from a ten minute break for a drink of water you wioll work through until lunch''
I replied that I was fine, adding ''thank you sir'' at the end.
Mr Booker roese from his chair and looked at me. He fastened my tie so that it pinched a little, but I thought it best not to complain. He walked around the back of me.
''Stand still now with you hands on you head please'' Mr Booker asked.
I did as he told me, not wanting to earn the cane at this early stage. What is this guy like, I thought.
Then I felt it. The same as with Dad sometimes. Had Dad talked to this man about what he did with me. I became nervous as I felt the man's large hands reach into the waistband of my school trousers. They were pulled back, tugged so that I moved a little backwards with the tugging.
''Stand still boy'' Mr Booker shouted at me and I did my best. I felt him getting closer to me. He was staring down into my school trousers, looking at my underpants.
''Very good'' He said after a few seconds after a few minutes. ''You may go and sit down Philip''
I walked to my chair nervously and sat down. Mr Booker brought me some papers.
''This is a simple comprehension test which will take you forty minutes'' He said adding that he would be back when 'time is up'.
He told me to work fast and accurately and to write neatly as he detested untidy writing. He wakked to the desk and I watched as he picked up Dads can and placed it back in the centre of the desk. He saw me watching him
We both understood what would be happening in about fifty minutes time. I felt thoroughly miserable.
Mr Booker left the room and I heard the television being turned on in the living room.
I had absoultely no option but to try and do my best in the comprehension test.