nephew moves on from encountering uncle to being taken in hand by Mark
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Nephew had not told uncle all that he had been told about his journey that day. If, after two trains had passed he had not been recognised, he had been told to come on to this station and to wait here. Curiosity and excitement battled with uncertainty and apprehension. His heart might well have been in his mouth even without the encounter with uncle, apprehension rose as he reached out to press the OPEN button and the doors parted before him. At that moment, he could still turn back. Yes, he blown his cover with uncle but uncle was hardly in a position to shop him to his family let alone his friends. Uncle was clearly into all this in a big way and nephew could hardly imagine how deeply. Uncle had not yet got up, uncle was leaving nephew to make the next move. If he stayed on the train perhaps uncle would too, if he got off, if he took that next step into the mystery would there ever be a way back. The seconds seemed like minutes and the moment would pass if he did not move. Nephew stepped out onto the platform, looked left no sign of uncle yet he looked right towards the way out. By the exit stood a tall guy, short red hair, dark glasses hiding his eyes, a tight capped black T-shirt doing little to conceal a muscular torso and figure hugging black jeans emphasising a lean body. He stood firm in his shining boots, looking smart his arms behind him; it seemed as though each wrist was grasped by the opposite hand. He looked left again, uncle had opened the neighbouring doors and got off the train. Uncle was standing like the stranger in black, straight, silent and immobile. Uncles hands each grasped a wrist behind his back, he seemed to gaze beyond nephew towards the other man. The train doors came to behind nephew and his one apparent means of retreat moved on its way out of the station. There he was between uncle and the stranger. Uncle looked at his nephew - this could have been any youngster. Nephews jeans, clean plain white T-shirt and trainers did little to distinguish him from many others of his age group. The contrast to the 4mm CBR through uncles septum, his brief, well worn, washed out. cut off jeans, short socks and polished boots, and his sleeveless denim jacket revealing that tribal band tattooed on his upper right arm was somewhat stark. Uncle thought about the extended conversation which he longed to have had with his nephew to explain, to explore, to excuse himself, to warn his nephew. Yes, to warn his nephew, before it was too late. Why warn him about a journey upon which they were both clearly embarked, albeit uncle years ahead of nephew ? Uncle thought of his own loneliness in the early days and of the loneliness that he still felt in the other side the conventional side - of his life. If I warn him off, will he understand ? Will he just think that I was acting out of my own embarrassment ? Trying to keep this side of me secret, special for myself self-indulgent - hypocritical. Perhaps it was the hypocrisy of his position that the Master had decided to smoke out that day by requiring him to come out in public dressed as he was. Would he have listened to a warning when he had started out or would a warning merely have added to the excitement, the daring, the mystery ? An avuncular sermon would probably fall on stubborn ears if he knew anything about his family and merely mean that nephew would steer well clear of uncle discovering what he did after that. And nephew was now in a rather privileged position, knowing what he now knew." And, anyway, the time had probably passed and it was hardly in role as a sub to lecture a virile young man with his own mind to make up. The stranger was waiting, still, silent, revealing nothing by way of expression. Uncle nodded at his nephew with the sort of nod that turned nephew back towards the man down the platform who took off his glasses, relaxed his firm stance, gave a welcoming smile and stepped forward hand outstretched in greeting. Nephew started walking towards that outstretched hand. Halfway there, turned to see whether uncle was joining them but uncle had vanished. The platform behind him was empty and, alone, nephew greeted the black clad stranger. "Call me, Mark, boy !" accompanied a firm handshake, "Were going back to my place to talk." "Yes, Mark, Sir", nephew replied uncertain whether to add the Sir but doing so to be on the safe side. "No, boy, just Mark will do well enough as we chat." Uncle had darted into the male lavatory and knelt at the urinal to pee. Usually hed have popped into a cubicle to kneel at a bowl but it seemed unlikely that he be disturbed. He relaxed and just let the piss run out of him - nephew was out of his hands. He had passed into the hands of a wider network in which uncle was but a humble sub. He would give them a chance to walk away and then go and report for his duties. Meantime Mark looked the boy over, a clean, unspoilt, lad, and wondered just what had brought this young man to this turning point in his life.