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Subject: Stranger on a Train chapter eight This story is a work of fiction and no character in it is based on any real person living or dead. Where officials are described they are in no way intended to represent any real person who holds those offices, although I recognise that the Metropolitan Police does have some brave officers and that the “system”, however desensitised nowadays, does have some caring people within it. This story may include some sexual activity , though only of a gentle and loving nature, but there will be no graphic descriptions and those looking for pornography are advised to look elsewhere.There are pictures of some of the characters in this story on Jacob Lion’s website along with his story, “A Neglected Boy” also serialized on Nifty. If you like this story, you’ll certainly like his. You can find his website at: https://jacoblion.weebly/ If you wish to contact me for feedback, I can be reached ook. Nifty is kind enough to enable us to write and to read these stories so please consider making a donation. It costs money to run a site like fty/donate.html Stranger on a Train Chapter eight By Jonah Saturday morning dawned early for me. I had gone to bed late, and gone to sleep in a bed containing three boys. At six o clock in the morning I awoke to the fact that there was only one boy visible, but two smaller boys were snuggled against my legs. Two pairs of little feet were rested on my shoulders. That’s what awakened me. Luke was trying to find my mouth with his toes. I turned toward him and wrapped my arms round his ankles, pressing my cheek against his little soles. The searching stopped. He lay still. I drifted back to sleep. I awoke to find Simon gone. The two rug rats were both still lying at the other end of the bed. Luke’s cute little feet were still where I had left them. He was gently flexing his toes against my temple. I released his ankles and turned toward Peter. Immediately Peter’s little brown feet were substituted. . “What are you two doing down there?” I asked. “There’s plenty of room at this end”. “Liam says he likes you rubbing his feet”, Peter replied. “We thought we’d like to try it”. Like many indians, Peter had light brown feet with Pale orange soles. They were soft and sensual. I took hold of one in each hand and began a slow massage. “Hey! What about me?” said Luke. “I’ve got a limited number of hands,” I told him. “You’ll have to wait your turn.” I massaged from Peter’s ankles to his toes and then turned to Luke. Luke was over excited and planted his left foot firmly in my face. I gave it a quick lick to make him move it, but that only encouraged him. He was trying to get his toes in my mouth. I gave them a quick suck then said, “Behave yourself Luke. It’s time to get up. Shower NOW!”. izmit escort Unsurprisingly both boys dashed for the shower. I got up picked up a towel and trudged downstairs. Simon was busy scrambling eggs and feeding the toaster. “Couldn’t you get to the shower before them?” he asked. “They were clasped around my legs”, I replied. “Ten minutes, tell them”. I soaped myself up with a flannel and rinsed myself off at the kitchen sink, then ran back upstairs to dress. “Ten minutes boys,” I shouted from the landing. Peter was down before me, dressed in only boxers and his wet hair sticking up in spikes. He was already tucking into scrambled egg on toast and I helped myself to some too. “Can I ring Mrs. Porter to see how Sammy is?” he asked. “Of course you can, but you know she might not be there don’t you? I replied. ” She might be at the hospital”. “I’d like to ring anyway”. I nodded. “Sure!”, I said. The telephone rang, so I left the counter to answer it. “Jonah Cummings!” I said. “Mr Cummings, it’s Jeff Porter. I’m sorry for ringing so early…..” “No,no Mr Porter,” I replied, “Peter was just about to ring you. Would you like to speak to him?” “To be honest, I’d be happpier speaking to an adult,” he replied. “Sorry, just…. just a bit emotional….” That didn’t sound good “I’m sorry Mr Porter. I understand.” “No, no” he said quickly, “no…. It’s not bad news…. well not really…. The doctors say Samuel has had a peaceful night and they are very pleased with him. It will take time, but they are as certain as they can be that he will make an almost full recovery. He’ll always have a glass back, of course, but you can say that about most of us. I just thought you’d want to know”. “Thank you Mr. Porter…..” “Oh, Jeff, please…” “Thank you Jeff, I do want to know that, and so does Peter. You realise he did mean what he said about being Sammy’s friend?” “I……. I know. ” he said awkwardly. ” I….. I think .. I think that’s probably the real reason I rang. You see… Susan and I… we’ve never been proper parents for Samuel….. we’ve never been there for him in the way that he needed… I thought…. well your boys seem to rely on you in the way that Samuel has never… has never … been… Oh I don’t know what I mean…” “Mr Porter,” I said quietly, ” none of us go on courses to learn that. You’ll do just fine. Now my boys and I don’t have much here but you and your wife, and Sammy when he’s better, are welcome here any time, and if there’s any way we can help… you can be sure we’ll try” The man was sobbing into his phone at the other end. “Thank you Mr. Cummings… ” he sobbed. ” You don’t know how much that means to me. Goodbye.” “Goodbye Jeff”. Peter was watching with his mouth hanging open. I grinned and ruffled his hair. “Go yahya kaptan escort get dressed,” I told him, “and do something with your hair. Get yourself ready. We’re taking Luke train-spotting.” Simon came in fully coated as Peter ran up the stairs. “I’m ready already,” he announced. “Oh!” I said, “I thought you would stay here, finish the dishes. Push the hoover round, and get dinner ready for when we get back”. He threw a punch at me which I blocked easilly then pulled him into a close embrace. “God I’m glad you’re here mate”, I told him. “Just looking out for your happiness” he replied. We both burst out laughing. We caught the Piccadilly tube to Kings Cross and hung about while Peter and Luke took loco numbers at both St Pancras and Kings Cross. Then we took the Circle line East to Liverpool Street. There are proper loco-hauled trains at Liverpool Street as well as multiple units, so the dynamic duo raced around the footbridge and cleared up while Simon and I perused the bookstall. I found a Platform 5 combined volume, which contained mostly the same things as Peter’s Ian Allan one, but was set out differently. This, I told Luke, was a late Christmas present. We then took the circle line West to Royal Oak, just outside Paddington, where we could watch the trains entering and leaving the terminus. London no longer has engine sheds that you can bunk as it had when I was a kid. There is no sliding round Stratford while nobody is looking, begging the shed foreman at Willesden for a look around, or creeping round Old Oak Common. The shed foreman at Hither Green no longer tells spotters to “take the longest way out”. All that is in the past. The main line stations are about the only place in the capital for spotters now. A Hammersmith and City train took us into Paddington where we provided ourselves with burgers. That would keep us going till dinner time. Then it was back on the Circle line to Euston Square, where we walked to Euston. Once the boys had jotted down every train that was visible we boarded a West Midlands Trains class 350 electric multiple unit to take us to Harrow and Wealdstone. I pointed out to Peter that there were still freight locomotives stabled around Willesden, so he and Luke were busy at the windows. We alighted at Harrow and Wealdstone staion – famous for the three train smash in 1950. The plan was to walk home but, as we passed close to South Harrow police station, a heavy hand fell on my shoulder and a voice said, “You’re nicked”. I turned and found PC Jason Roberts grinning at me. Luke had a smile on his face too, but I saw Peter hide behind me. “Not going to creep by without saying hello, were you Jonah?” said the policeman. “It might not be a good time,” I said hesitantly, glancing round at Peter. gebze escort “Oh,” he said, ” THAT”. I nodded quickly. “I think you need a cup of tea,” he said. ” And I dare say we can find some squash for the boys”. We followed him into the police station. Peter looked as if he was going to his execution. Jason seated us in the Holy of Holies, behind the bullet proof glass again. A sergeant appeared with teacups, tea, orange squash and chocolate biscuits. “Jack Boone, ” he told me. “We have spoken.” “You helped me with Ms. Ward” I said. “That’s right,” he replied, ” and it looks like she’ll be out of action for a while.” “Are the police going to prosecute?” “We’ve dropped the obstruction charge because we don’t need it, but yes. Her committal proceedings were yesterday morning and she’ll be at the Crown Court next Wednesday. We’ve opposed bail for Luke’s safety. You won’t be required to testify because the Social Services director was there. She’ll be looking at time inside, and you must be Peter”. He said to the boy trying to hide behind me. He had guessed rightly. “I recognised you from your picture in the Gazette” he said. “Did Bob give you your caution yesterday?” Peter nodded glumly”. “And did he say we’ll say no more about it?” Another nod. “So what are you sitting there with a face like a wet washday for?” “I’ve got a criminal record”. “Youi’re on file”, said the sergeant,. “It’s not the same thing. Of course, if you do something stupid again it WILL be the same thing, but that’s not going to happen is it?” Peter shook his head. “Then put your bottom lip back where it belongs and try looking like your brother’s brother and your father’s son, and DON’T go hiding from policemen in uniform. We’re your friends. Your old man wore a uniform like this one, and you wouldn’t have hid from him would you”. Peter shook his head and said. “No sir.” “Your old man, ” said Jack, “was a bloody good copper- ‘scuse my French -, and I’m proud to meet his two lads, BOTH of them.” Finally a smile from Peter who suddenly held out his hand. Jack shook it gravely, then smiled as he handed Peter a beaker of orange squash. After we had said our Farewells to Jack and Jason, we walked the rest of the way home in somewhat better spirits. It proved necessary to call in at Rayner’s Food Centre, as we had neither dinner nor breakfast for tomorrow. We provided ourselves with potatoes and sausages and eggs, and a pack of bacon. Half a dozen tomatoes and a clump of broccoli. Simon and Peter watched television while Luke and I prepared toad-in-the-hole with potatoes and broccoli. For dessert we had ice cream with strawberry jam. After dinner Simon and I spent a happy hour playing cards while Luke and Peter marked up their spotting books. Then I read some more “Wind in the Willows” till bedtime. I didn’t even try suggesting the boys use their own beds. Nor was it of any avail suggesting that Luke remain the same end of the bed as the rest of us. I’d be prepared to bet money that Peter would have joined him by morning.

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