The first chapter of this story can be found in the archive (it was posted in November last year). I apologise in advance if there are any errors in this chapter: I have not had time to check it properly.
It was shortly before the Easter holidays that the letter arrived. Mr Hardman could tell, from the post mark, that it was from the twins' prep school, but it was obviously not from one of them. The handwriting was that of an adult. He slit open the envelope with his paper knife and unfolded the sheet of writing paper inside. There was one short page of script. This is what he read:
"Dear Mr Hardman,
"As you know, Timmy and Charlie will be taking the common entrance examination for entry to Upton during the Summer term. Both are progressing well and I am reasonably confident that they will pass. Nevertheless, it does have to be said that they are somewhat keener on games than on academic work. As a result, I have come to the conclusion that they should undertake as much revision as possible during the forthcoming holidays. I am aware that that is easy for me to say that and that it will not be nearly so easy for you to ensure that it happens. That is why I wondered whether you would be interested in a new scheme being run by Upton to help boys with revision for the common entrance.
"Several hand-picked Upton lower sixth form boys have agreed to offer their services as tutors during the Easter Holidays. What will happen, if you decide to make use of the scheme, is that you will be allocated an Upton boy who can come and stay with you for about three weeks during the holidays. You will have to feed and house him and it is proposed that you should also pay him a modest weekly wage, more like pocket money than a real salary. In return, he will give three hours of tuition a day to the twins and, should you wish it, he would be able to supervise them during the non-working hours.
"Do let me know if you are interested.
"Yours sincerely".
The letter was signed by the boys' headmaster.
As it happens, Mr Hardman had been thinking of employing a tutor to help the boys with their revision. He had already made some preliminary enquiries of an agency in London. The fees quoted had been high and, although the agency was respectable, he would have no idea of what sort of man they might send. He had been in two minds about whether to go ahead. This letter seemed to provide the answer to his concerns. The cost would not be great, although that was not a major consideration. Above all, however, he would know that anyone chosen by Upton would be bound to be responsible and hard-working. If he were not, the school (which was hoping to extract two sets of fees for five years from the Hardmans) would soon find out about it.
The twins' father leant forward, took a sheet of notepaper from his desk, and scribbled a quick note in reply:
"Thank you so much for your letter.
"I think the Upton scheme sounds splendid. If there is still a boy available to come to us, we would be delighted to accept the offer.
"Yours sincerely".
A few days later the twins were summoned to the headmaster's study. They were perplexed as to the reason for the summons. Neither could think of any recent mischief which might need to be dealt with, but they still assumed that the slipper would be put to use. They walked together along the long corridor with a look of quiet resignation on their faces. When they arrived at the door they saw that the green light was on. With one final stroke of his slim buttocks, Tim knocked on the door.
"Enter".
The boy opened the door. His brother whispered "good luck" to him and he walked in. Before he got more than a pace into the room, the headmaster spoke.
"Both of you laddie. It's ok, you're not in trouble".
Charlie joined his brother. They stood side by side wondering what Mr Reston (the headmaster) could want with them if he wasn't going to use his slipper.
Timmy spoke first.
"Hardman 1 Sir". It was still necessary, after nearly five years at the school, for the boys to introduce themselves to their masters when they were together.
"Hardman 2 Sir", said Charlie.
Mr Reston smiled at them.
"So you were expecting to be punished were you? I wonder what you've done".
Timmy replied immediately. "Oh Sir, we haven't done anything. We couldn't work out why you needed to whack us Sir."
"Jolly good, well I don't. No, I just called you in to give you some good news. Your father has very sensibly decided to make use of the Upton scheme I was talking about at assembly the other day. That means that you are going to have some very valuable help with your holiday revision tasks."
Neither twin could immediately see why this should be described as good news. Having a tutor from Upton overseeing them during the holidays would, in their view, be a disaster. But they were properly brought up boys and they did their best to hide their disappointment.
"Thank you sir" each mumbled in turn, "that will be very helpful."
When they were walking back to the senior common room the twins began their moaning.
"Honestly", said Charlie, "Dad is the end. Why on earth couldn't he trust us to do our revision on our own?".
"I know", his brother replied, "these hols are going to be awful. It'll just be like being at school."
On the same day the master in charge of the lower sixth form at Upton was presiding over a meeting of fifteen of his charges. They were the boys who had been picked as tutors. The purpose of the meeting was to allocate families to each boy. All had seen the list of common entrance candidates whose parents had decided to make use of the scheme. Timmy and Charlie would have been amused to have seen the reactions of the boys (or all but one) to the possibility of being sent to teach them.
"Bloody hell", said one, "I hope I don't get this family. Look, it's twins. Double the work for the same pay."
Others leant over his shoulder to look at the paper. One by one they repeated his sentiments. But then another voice could be heard.
"Well, I don't mind going there", said Taylor, "at least twins can entertain themselves when they aren't working."
"Don't you believe it", said Pearson, "they'll need double effort when they're playing as well. Still, if you don't mind, why don't you volunteer?".
And so it came to be that Taylor, whom we know by his first name of Robbie, came to be chosen to look after the twins.
On the day before the holidays began Mr Hardman received the letter from Upton confirming the arrangements.
"I am delighted", the letter began, "that you have decided to make use of our new tutoring scheme. I can confirm that we have allocated a boy to help your sons during the holidays. He is an excellent pupil called Robbie Taylor." Mr Hardman smiled as he recognised his daughter's boyfriend's name. He liked Robbie and remembered, too, how much the twins had liked him when he had stayed during the previous Summer holidays. "He is a bright lad who did very well in his O Levels and is sure to do well in his As. We have every hope that he will go on to get a scholarship to Oxford. He is bound to be appointed a prefect for his final year here. As it happens, he is in the house for which your boys have been put down. So the arrangement seems a particularly good one.
"A separate sheet is enclosed setting out the terms of Taylor's engagement. I would be most grateful if you could check that you are happy with them and return the contract to me as soon as possible. I thought it might be helpful if I said something about discipline. We all know that boys of your sons' age do sometimes need a little prompting when it comes to working during the holidays! I know it would help Taylor a great deal to know that he can look to you for support if it is needed. This is entirely a matter for you, but it may help you to know that he will, when he is a prefect, be empowered to administer moderate corporal chastisement to younger boys in his charge. Should you think it would be helpful, we would have no objection to your giving him similar powers over your sons while he is with you. I realise that he is still only sixteen, although he will be seventeen soon, but I can assure you that he is a very mature young man and I have no doubt that he can be trusted implicitly. In the highly unlikely event that he is himself guilty of misbehaviour, you can be assured that he will be properly punished on his return to the school."
Mr Hardman leant back in his chair. An idea was beginning to form in his mind. He and his wife had been concerned, in the previous Summer, about leaving the twins alone with Sammy and Robbie for two weeks. But, on their return from their own holiday, they had been delighted to learn that everything had gone without a hitch. The boys had apparently been well behaved. They had adored Robbie, who had obviously been a good influence on them. Sammy, who had promised that she would report any misbehaviour which had not been adequately punished, had had nothing to report (and they knew that she would not break a promise). Joseph, Mr Hardman's brother, had not had to be summoned at any time to act in loco parentis. The whole thing had been a great success. Why not, Mr Hardman was thinking, make use of this opportunity to have another holiday alone with his wife?
Later that evening, Mr Hardman put his plan to his wife. She didn't take much persuading. Like her husband, she was fond of Robbie. She was still a little worried that he might get too close to Sammy. He was an undeniably good-looking boy and she was a decidedly attractive girl. They were obviously very attached to each other. On the other hand, they were both mature and she was confident that nothing untoward had happened in the Summer. So long as Sammy gave a solemn undertaking to behave, there could be no reason why the Hardmans senior could not go away again for an adult holiday. When her husband suggested a fortnight in Paris, all hint of opposition to the plan disappeared. Spring in Paris was, to Mrs Hardman's mind, like being in heaven.
The twins were never downhearted for long. They continued, occasionally, to moan about having a tutor, but, as the holidays drew nearer, they began to look on the bright side. After all, they reasoned, this swot from Upton would only be teaching them for three hours a day. The rest of the time would be theirs to use as they wanted. And they had many plans for how to fill that time. So, it was in a cheerful frame of mind that they returned home for the beginning of the holidays.
Mr and Mrs Hardman decided to indulge in a little teasing of their sons. They were well aware that the boys would have been distressed to hear of the employment of a tutor. But they also knew that the pill would be considerably sweetened by the knowledge that the tutor was to be Robbie. They decided not to impart that news until the last minute. Sammy, of course, knew full well that her boyfriend was coming again. He had written to her as soon as he had discovered the good news. Her parents made her promise that she would say nothing to the twins.
The family was sitting around the kitchen table for tea. Sammy had arrived back from her school in the morning. The boys had only just got back. Nothing had yet been said about the tutor or about the parents' holiday. Mr Hardman was the first to broach the subject.
"Well boys", he said, "you must be pleased we've got you a tutor to help with your revision. He sounds a splendid chap. Excellent O Levels, straight As expected at A Level, likely to get into Oxford with no problem. I can't imagine anyone better."
Timmy and Charlie both made faces which, I regret to say, did not indicate enormous pleasure at their father's decision.
"Yuk", said Timmy, "he sounds really awful. Couldn't you have found a good rugby player at least?".
"Sport isn't everything you know Timmy" (their parents and sister were the only people who could reliably tell the twins apart) "what you need now is some really hard work, and this lad sounds perfect for you."
"Just so long as he keeps away from us when it's not revision time", said Charlie, "you can't make us spend the whole hols with a swot."
"Well", said Mrs Hardman, "that will be a matter for him. Your father and I are going to have a bit of a holiday while he's here and we are going to leave him in charge. So you'll have to do what he says."
"Yes", Mr Hardman immediately chirped in, "maybe you can take this opportunity to improve your chess. I bet he's an excellent player."
The twins had been looking more and more depressed during this conversation, but Mr Hardman noticed a more cheerful expression on their faces when the parental holiday had been mentioned. He guessed, quite accurately, what was going on in their minds.
"You needn't think, by the way, that, you will be able to get away with anything while we are away. Upton tell me that your tutor is a very serious young man who will take no nonsense from you. And I am going to make sure that he has all the tools available to him to keep you hard at it. In particular, I am led to believe that he has a very strong right arm. That is going to be useful because the first thing I am going to show him is where he can find the whacking slipper."
The twins looked appalled.
"Dad", exclaimed Charlie, "you can't let him whack us. He's only a boy. That's so cruel."
"I certainly can let him whack you and I certainly intend to tell him so. The common entrance is a very important exam and I'm not going to leave anything to chance. You boys are going to work harder this holiday than you have ever worked before."
Later that night, when the boys were changing into their pyjamas, they discussed the day's developments.
"These hols are just going to be the worst ever", opined Timmy, "this tutor bloke sounds about as bad as you could get."
"I know", his brother replied in a deeply depressed tone, "an out and out bookworm. Yuk, did you hear that about playing chess with him? And letting him slipper us too. It's repulsive, that's what it is. It's major child cruelty. I vote we report Mum and Dad to the NSPCC" (a British charity called the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children which, even at the time of which I write, was already becoming a somewhat politically correct institution devoted more to attacking good discipline in the home than preventing real abuse).
The boys could never be sad for long. Easter itself was soon upon them and, like thousands of other children up and down the land, they happily gorged themselves on chocolate eggs from dawn to dusk. It had been agreed that no revision would be required until Easter Tuesday and, accordingly, the boys enjoyed perfect freedom (when not at church on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday) for several days. They would set off together on their bicycles in the mornings and, church services permitting, return to the house in the evening having explored happily all day. It was not yet Summer, but the weather was kind and they were tough. They had swum, both in the river at the bottom of the garden and in the sea ten miles away, on every day. But it was soon Tuesday. The day of the arrival of the dreaded tutor.
At breakfast that morning Mr Hardman announced that the tutor would be arriving at the local station at 11 o'clock. He would pick him up. He wondered whether Sammy would mind coming with him.
"At least he's not expecting us to go and meet him" whispered Charlie to Timmy.
Sammy immediately agreed to help her father.
"Traitor", whispered Timmy.
At half past ten Mr Hardman and his daughter set off to the station. Before leaving, he warned his sons that he expected them to be waiting to be introduced to their new tutor when he got back.
The second the car was out of sight the boys ran back into the house and climbed the stairs. They had agreed, the night before, that they would start as they meant to continue. They headed for Robbie's room. It was a matter of a minute or so's work to re-arrange his bed clothes so that he would find an apple pie bed when he retired for the night. Some of you may not know that expression. It is used to describe an arrangement of bed clothes which makes it impossible to lie between the sheets and requires a total re-making of the bed. Prep school boys, probably to this day, have always been experts at apple pie beds.
They had thought of placing a bucket of water on top of the door into the bedroom, but had then decided that that would be bound to lead to a paternal slippering (since it would obviously be discovered by the whole household once the tutor had walked in and been drenched). Various other ideas had occurred to them but, for the moment, they had concluded that the apple pie bed would be enough.
"We'll see how he reacts to that before we do anything else" Timmy had said.
They returned to the front lawn to await the arrival of this monster.
At twenty past eleven the car turned back into the drive. The boys could not see the occupants clearly. They stood up and walked towards the gravel parking area by the front door. The tyres crunched over the stones and the car drew to a halt. The tutor was sitting in the back, on the other side of the car from the twins. He turned his back on them to open the door. They peered through the windows, but they still couldn't see him properly. His door opened and, slowly, he stepped out of the car, back still to the boys. Only when he was standing upright did he turn towards them.
Oh how I wish I could describe the look on their faces as the twins saw their tutor. It must have taken a second or two for the information to travel from eye to brain and to register. For that period the expression of animosity which had been there as the car drove up remained. Then it was replaced by a look of blank amazement as they tried to understand why Robbie, their hero, had stepped out of the car instead of the tutor. A moment or two later the truth dawned on them. Their faces became wreathed in smiles at precisely the same moment.
Charlie was the first to say anything.
"Robbie", he shouted out, "are you really our tutor?".
Robbie smiled back. He had been told about the trick that had been played on the boys and he was delighted to see their reaction. "That's right boys. I'm the 'awful swot' who's come to ruin your hols."
"Oh brill", exclaimed Timmy, "we'll have such fun. Hey Robbie, we've found this fantastic island with a cave you can only get to at low tide. No one else knows about it. We'll show you this afternoon. You can use Dad's bike. It's really fab."
Mr Hardman had been watching with an amused smile on his face. He was pleased to see his sons so happy, but he also remembered the serious side of the exercise.
"I'm sure you can have great fun boys, but only if you do your three hours of revision every day. That's right, isn't it Robbie?".
"It certainly is sir" (those were still the days in which sixteen year old boys addressed adults respectfully).
But even this reminder of boring revision did not dampen the boys' spirits. They rushed forward to fight for the honour of taking Robbie's suitcase up to his room. Timmy won and Charlie raced ahead. They chattered on happily as they climbed the stairs. It was only as they got to the landing that, as one, both boys remembered what they had done to Robbie's bed.
Timmy put their thoughts into words.
"Um, Robbie, you know how Mum and Dad didn't tell us who you were going to be?".
"Yes, your father told me in the car".
"Well, you see, we thought you were going to be some really awful boy who hated games and only liked work."
"So I gather".
"Well, we had to do something about that. I mean that would have been so cruel."
Robbie smiled at all this stuttering. "Come on, spit it out".
"Really sorry and all that, but we made you an apple pie bed." He quickly continued. "But it's OK, we can re-make it really quickly. You won't tell Dad will you?".
"Course not, but it's got to be perfectly made, otherwise there'll be big trouble."
Never before, and never since I daresay, have two twelve year old boys devoted so much attention to the stripping and making of a bed.
Before lunch Mr Hardman took Robbie into his study to discuss the plans for the rest of the holidays.
"I thought we ought to have a serious chat to lay the ground rules. I couldn't be happier that Upton have sent you and the boys are obviously over the moon. I want them to have as good a holiday as they can, but I really am serious about their revision. It's got to be done and you mustn't stand for any nonsense from them."
"Don't worry Sir, I really like them and I want them to come to Upton as much as you do. I'll make sure they do their work."
"I am sure you will. But it won't always be easy. No one could be fonder of the twins than I am, but I would be misleading you if I said that they were naturally obedient boys. And it's bound to be particularly difficult when we are away. You really will have to lay down the law you know. I'd love to think it will all go like clockwork, but that would be hopeless optimism. You're going to have to make them understand from the start that you are the boss. And I'm sorry to have to say this, but it's true, there's only one language they really understand when it comes to discipline." He pointed to the cabinet against the wall. "In there you will find a large leather soled slipper. I want you to give me your word of honour that you will have no hesitation in using it on the boys if they ever step out of line."
Word had already gone around Upton lower sixth form that the parents of boys who were to be tutored had been advised that the tutors could be trusted to use corporal punishment if it was ever needed. There had been much speculation amongst the youths as to which, if any, would find that they were in fact given that power. Robbie had assumed that he would not. He had remembered how Mr Hardman had told him, in the previous Summer, that the twins' Uncle Joseph should be summoned if punishment were ever required. He had assumed that a similar arrangement would be made this time (although he had guessed that the twins would once again beg him to administer any punishments rather than call their uncle). He was considerably relieved now to hear that his disciplinary powers were to be put on a formal basis. It was not that he wanted to punish the boys, although I fear that it would be wrong to suggest that he had not got a little pleasure from slippering them in the Summer. It was just that it had felt uncomfortable punishing them in the knowledge that their parents had not given him permission to do so. He had already guessed that it would not be easy to carry out his role of tutor properly without being able, at the least, to threaten punishment. The last thing he wanted to do was to call the dreaded Uncle Joseph to the house. His position would undoubtedly be much stronger if he, and the boys, knew that he had formal permission to slipper them when necessary. He was therefore happy to give his word of honour that he would use the slipper when it was needed.
The twins were not alone in their delight at seeing Robbie. Sammy had been looking forward to his arrival for days. During the term times they could only correspond by letter. In the previous Christmas holidays they had seen each other a few times, but they lived quite a distance apart and meetings were not easy. The best period in their relationship had, without a doubt, been those glorious two weeks in the last Summer.
Sammy lived in constant fear that Robbie would be stolen from her by some beautiful girl who lived near his family's home. Robbie, for his part, could not imagine why such a stunner as Sammy remained loyal to him. But that she seemed to do. She replied to his letters immediately and her own were so long and chatty that it was obvious, even to that modest young man, that she was still besotted. But so was he. Every night, wherever he was, he kissed her picture before getting into bed. On most nights, once the lights were off, and I must be truthful here, he closed his eyes and imagined her lying beside him. The result was inevitable. Now, at last, they were to be together again for another fortnight. Maybe these holidays would see a further blossoming of their relationship.
Although it had originally been planned to start revision work on the Tuesday, Mr Hardman soon relented and agreed that, for the rest of the day, the twins, Robbie and Sammy could amuse themselves as they saw fit. The boys wanted to show Robbie their island, but the older boy, not unnaturally, was keener to spend the time with his girlfriend. She, too, had plans for Robbie and, against such stiff opposition, the twins had no chance. Sammy, in particular, made it abundantly clear to her brothers that she did not want them following Robbie and her around. They were to make themselves scarce "or else". They accepted her orders with good grace, although also with some disappointment, and they set off on their bicycles for the island. Robbie and Sammy also took bikes, but they headed off in the opposite direction, to be sure of being quite alone when they caught up on each other's news and, as both secretly hoped, stole the occasional kiss and caress from each other.
I will not intrude on Robbie's and Sammy's privacy myself. It is enough to say that neither was disappointed in the other's behaviour as they sat side by side under a large oak tree in a field hidden from the view of any but the most persistent spy.
What I must do is give a brief description of the twins' island. Their assertion that no one else knew about it, it has to be said at once, was quite inaccurate. Many local people were perfectly well aware of it, and of the fact that it boasted a large cave which was accessible only at low tide. But the boys did know something about it which no one else seemed to know. They had explored the island, which was only about 100 yards long and fifty yards wide, from end to end. The cave opened out onto a small sandy beach which was only above water for about an hour each side of low tide. Above the cave was the highest point of the island. A smallish grass covered hill rose about a hundred feet above sea level. Although not particularly high, in climbing terms, the hill was not an easy scramble and few people bothered to climb it. But the twins were nothing if not thorough. They had spent most of Easter Saturday on the island (their mother had given them a picnic) and they had resolved then to make the climb and look out to sea, in the hope of seeing France.
As with all visitors to the island, the boys had assumed that the easiest route would be to approach it from the East. The incline did not look so steep from that direction. But it would still not be an easy climb, because of the lack of good footholds on the grass covered rocks. The short climb had in fact taken them a good half hour, and both had slipped down more than once. But, finally, they got to the top.
They had looked out to see and, though the visibility was not at its best, both claimed, not with an abundance of confidence, to have seen the distant shores of France. Then, exhausted from their exertions, they sat on the grassy summit to drink some lemonade. It was as Charlie's bottom hit the ground that the beginnings of their discovery was made.
"Hey, that sounded like wood not rock under the grass", he exclaimed.
He jumped up and tore at the grass where he had been sitting. Sure enough, after considerable effort and some time, he revealed what appeared to be a corner of a wooden plank. He tore ever more manically at the turf and more and more of the plank was uncovered. Timmy, by now, was joining in. It was he who first felt the piece of metal.
"Quick Charlie", he shouted out, "there's something metal here. Maybe it's buried treasure. Come and help me."
Both boys now concentrated on the grass around the metal. In moments they had uncovered it. They stood back and stared at a heavy metal ring attached to the wood.
"It's a handle", they both exclaimed at once, as they realised that what they appeared to be uncovering was some sort of ancient trap door.
Timmy tried to pull the handle, but nothing would budge. Charlie joined in, but it was hopeless while half the wooden door remained under the grass. So, with renewed energy, they tore once more at the earth and grass. Time was passing. Already, they had missed the critical period of the tide when access to the cave was possible. The cave was their favourite part of the island. It was so large and dark, right at the back, that they were convinced that it must have been the hiding place of pirates' treasure. But their disappointment at missing their search for gold was easily made up for by this new find. They laboured, altogether, for a good three hours before, at last, the whole of the wooden trap door was visible to them. Then, with a might pull at the handle, they began slowly to raise the wood.
It was indeed a trap door. At the end away from the handle there were rusty old hinges. Despite the rust, they were still in perfect order. The timbers groaned and the metal of the hinges screeched, but the door opened. In a moment it was fully up and both boys peered down.
At first the boys could see nothing. They seemed to be looking into a large black hole. But, gradually, as their eyes grew accustomed to the murkiness beneath them, they realised that there was a metal ladder fixed into the side of the rock. They looked at each other in amazement. There was no need to say anything. Charlie, exercising the right of the finder, gingerly placed one foot on the first rung. He pushed down, to test its strength, and felt no movement. Then he lowered his next foot to the next rung. Again, it was absolutely firm. He slowly continued his descent, unaware of what might be below him and definitely nervous of what he would find. But he was a twelve year old British prep school boy and, as everyone knows, they never allow fear to deter them from adventure.
Timmy waited anxiously at the top. He longed to join his twin on the ladder, but he had enough sense to realise that he ought to remain outside in case of emergency below. After a few minutes his brother was lost to sight. But he continued to call up as he went on down the long ladder. And it certainly was long. The rungs were about a foot apart. Although he did not count as he went, he guessed, by the end, that there had been about 90 of them. And he was quite right. When he was about half way down, having been looking upwards till then, he stopped and peered down below. Now he could see daylight. Not very bright, but bright enough to show him that there must be some sort of opening to the air. He took a deep breath and went on down. As he got lower he could discern the sound of the sea lapping against rocks. On he went, lower and lower into the abyss. Finally, he got to the end of the ladder. He had placed one foot down to find the next rung, but had found nothing but air beneath him. Clutching the side rails he looked down again. It was now quite light. He could see the ground beneath him, about ten feet away. This was the great moment of decision. He knew he could easily jump to the ground from the bottom rung, but he could not see how he would get back up to it to return to his brother. Should he jump, and risk being trapped in some underground chamber for ever? Or should he be sensible and climb back up to report his findings?
Charlie was many things, but sensible was not an adjective often used about him. With one final deep breath, and closing his eyes tight, he launched himself into the unknown. He landed with a jolt on the hard rocks below. But he was not hurt. He stood slowly and opened his eyes. At first he did not recognise his surroundings at all. Behind him the rock wall rose up into the distance. To his left and right it did the same. But, ahead, a few feet away, there was a stone slab, some five feet high and, above that, was the source of light. He edged forward and, arms fully stretched, he reached for the top of the slab. There was some sort of rail there. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. As his head rose above the stone he found himself gazing into the cave he knew so well. High tide would be in about two hours, but the water was already several feet into the cave. He knew it would not come all the way, because the high water mark was about half way from the cave entrance to the wall at the back.
Since jumping down from the ladder, Charlie had not called out again. The last Timmy had heard was his brother's resolution to jump. Then, all had been silent. Now, he stood at the top holding his breath and in terror about what might have happened. After a few minutes he called out in anguish.
"Hey, Charlie, are you OK?"
There was a pause as the sound travelled the hundred or so feet below and echoed back to him. Then, although it was not easy over such a distance, he heard the familiar sound of his brother's voice.
"Timmy, this is so great. It's a way down to the cave. Hang on, I'm going to check there's a way back up to the ladder. If there is, you can come too."
But Timmy was not going to wait longer. He eagerly set off down the ladder, two rungs at a time. By the time he reached the bottom Charlie had still not found a way of getting up to the ladder from the ground. He said his brother should wait on the bottom rung. But Timmy would have none of that. He leapt down and landed just where Charlie had done before him.
"You idiot", said Charlie, "now we'll both be stuck here for hours, till low tide. Mum and Dad will be frantic. We probably won't be home again till way after dark. When Dad finds out what we've done we'll get the sorest bums ever."
"Come on Charlie, you didn't think I'd let you have all the fun did you? OK, so maybe we'll get the slipper, but this must be worth it. Don't you see, this means we'll be the only people who can ever get down here at high tide. It's our secret place.".
Charlie could see the point, but he still thought that Timmy had been foolish to cut off their only apparent exit.
"OK, but we've got to find a way back up. Maybe, if we climb over into the cave proper we can find some rocks to build a way up."
Timmy was peering back up the hole to the top. As he looked down to reply, his eyes caught a glint on the rock wall beneath the ladder. He leant forward to look closer.
"Good thing I came down", he said, "look what I've found".
Charley stepped forward. At first he couldn't make out anything, because that part of the rock wall was in the deepest shadow, but then he realised what Timmy had seen. The wall was not even by any means. At some time someone had carved small stepping stones into it, and they rose all the way to the bottom rung of the ladder. Their exit was now guaranteed.
The twins spent another hour in the cave making endless plans for the uses they could put it to during the many hours of every day when no one else would be able to get into it. They fully agreed that the secret must remain their's. They solemnly swore that neither, on pain of the most dire penalties, would tell anyone else what they had found. Eventually, as the light was beginning to fade, they realised that they had to go. The stepping stones were ideally placed. Neither boy had any difficulty in climbing up to the ladder and soon they were again on top of the hill above the cave.
Even though they knew it would make them late home, they knew they had to delay their departure while they covered the trap door with the loose grass and earth they had pulled away earlier. It was while Timmy was digging up some more earth to add to the disguise that he made another discovery. He was on the West side of the hill. As he bent to pull out the earth he looked down the hill and saw that, though it was much steeper here than on the other side, there seemed to be a narrow channel dug into the rocks with, yet again, steps carved into it. They were not easy to make out at first glance, because they were covered by grass and weeds, but as he peered closer he could see that they were definitely there.
Once the twins had finished their camouflaging of the trap door, they decided to try out Timmy's steps down. Sure enough, though heavily overgrown, they went all the way down the steepest past of the incline. Once down again, the boys set off at a sprint to the small rowing boat they had left at the other end of the island. They dragged it down to the beach, pushed it into the water and jumped in. They rowed with a fury to the shore of the mainland, tied the boat to the jetty and jumped out to recover their bikes for the ten mile ride home.
Even though they biked at full speed for the whole distance, the boys were still more than an hour late. Their parents had not yet become worried. They were familiar with their sons' relaxed attitude to time keeping. But, as they crept in through the back door, they were met by Sammy giving them the not unexpected news that they were to attend on their father in his study.
The twins looked a sorry sight as they stood, recovering their breath, outside the study door. Earlier in the day they had set off in pristine white shorts and T shirts. Their clothes were now almost black from their muddy excavations at the top of the hill. Their faces, arms and legs were similarly discoloured from the day's activities. Both were convinced that the combination of their appearance and their lateness would earn them severe punishment (they had hoped to be able to get to their room and change before seeing either of their parents). They whispered to each other before opening the door. Timmy spoke first.
"Remember, how ever many whacks he threatens us with, it's our secret. He mustn't know about it."
"Don't worry", said Charlie as he gently stroked what he expected shortly to be his throbbing, sore bottom through his shorts, "there's no way I'll let on."
Promises renewed, the boys made their way into the room which had been the scene of so many painful interviews in the past.
Mr Hardman was sitting at his desk attending to some last minute preparations for tomorrow's departure to France. He looked up as he heard the door open. As he took in the state of his sons he found it difficult to stop himself laughing. His wife, he knew, would be far from pleased when she saw their clothes, but he could never get worked up about such things. You may think he was a harsh father, although I do not and neither, I might say, did the twins, but he did have the great virtue of remembering something of his own childhood. Seeing these wretches standing before him reminded him instantly of the muddy adventures he had had at their age. He could not begin to imagine what they had been doing to get into such a mess, but he guessed it had been great fun. A few moments before they came in he had looked at his watch. He had said to himself earlier that, if they were less than an hour late, he would let them off with a reprimand. But his watch had told him that the hour had passed. With a heavy heart, because he really did dislike having to punish them, he had looked at the cabinet where the slipper was kept and silently resolved that he would have to put it to use. But now, something about their demeanour and appearance shook that resolution. He found himself thinking that they had come to no harm. They had obviously had fun. It was, because of the tutoring ahead, effectively the last day of their holidays proper. And he and his wife were about to set off on a real holiday. In an instant he made up his mind. The twins would not go to bed with sore bottoms tonight.
The twins were staring fixedly at the floor in front of them. Both their hearts were beating fast. They were both gulping, rather than breathing normally. Both were convinced that, in moments, they would, one after the other, be dropping their shorts and underpants and climbing over their father's knee for the conventional punishment of the time. Only a year or so earlier, had they found themselves in this position, they would have been preparing to plead for mercy and to struggle valiantly when that mercy was denied them. But now, now they were 12, they knew how futile such action would be. They were just waiting for the inevitable command to prepare themselves for the slipper. Mr Hardman knew perfectly well what would going on in their minds. He stared at them for a moment, trying to find the words that would properly reflect the gravity of their behaviour. Then he glanced down and saw that both boys had the fingers of their right hands crossed. Why that should have struck him as being so comical, I just do not know. But, as soon as he saw it, he could no longer hold back his mirth.
The twins heard what they took to be the beginnings of a growl of anger from their father. But then it turned into an unmistakable roar of laughter. They looked up in amazement. Sure enough, their father was convulsed in uncontrollable laughter. They looked at each other. The expressions on their faces were identical. Both were thinking precisely the same thing: they had finally and incontrovertibly driven their father round the bend.
Mr Hardman did, finally, manage to control himself. He wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and almost succeeded in looking serious again. But he knew that he would never now be able to carry off a proper paternal reprimand.
"You really are two of the most incorrigible scamps ever. All I can say is that if you dare to do this to Robbie when he's in charge I hope he won't be so foolish as me. You're let off this time. Now go and clean up before your mother sees you." And then he started laughing again.
Charlie and Timmy left the study in a state of total bewilderment. So shocked were they by their father's strange behaviour that neither spoke a word as they ran up the stairs towards their room. Once inside, they quickly stripped off their clothes and it was only when both were naked, and they could see each other's slim and totally unmarked bottoms, that the enormity of what had happened began to dawn on them.
"He must have gone mad", said Charlie, "do you think we should tell Mum?"
"Stark staring bonkers", replied Timmy with certainty, "but better if Mum doesn't know. She might shake him out of it and I'm rather keen for my bum to stay white thanks very much."
They smiled at each other and made their way, still absolutely naked, to the bathroom.
After a not very successful attempt to remove the mud from their bodies, the boys went back to their room and dressed in long-sleeved shirts and blue jeans. With most of the dirt now hidden from view, they decided it was safe to go downstairs and face their mother.
They found her in the kitchen preparing supper. She obviously didn't know what had happened in the study. She looked at them as they came in. She had never been good at being angry with her sons. She just loved them too much. That is not to say that she did not entirely support her husband in his attempts to tame them. It was just that she found it impossible not to forgive them within moments of almost any misdemeanour. It was the same now. She had sworn to herself that she would put on a haughty expression of disapproval when they returned from whatever escapade they had been on. But the sight of their dimpled faces and tousled hair was too much for her. She smiled at them and pointed at two chairs by the large kitchen table.
"Come on then, it's all over now. Come and sit down, I've already put a couple of cushions there so it shouldn't be too painful."
The twins again looked at each other and smiled conspiratorially. They knew that their father never talked to their mother about their punishments after they had been given (he subscribed to the view that the slipper wiped the slate clean). Both were entirely happy that she should labour under the misapprehension that they had been suitably punished. After all, she had yet to see the state of their formerly white shorts and shirts. Both put on a reasonable performance as they gently lowered their small bottoms onto the cushions so lovingly provided by their mother.
The Hardmans senior left for the airport at 6.30 the following morning. Only Robbie, who was eager to show his keenness, was up to see them off (they had said their goodbyes to their children the night before). Mr Hardman took him aside as Mrs Hardman busied herself checking that tickets and passports were in order.
"Good luck Robbie. We are immensely grateful to you for what you're doing for the boys. I just want to say to you that I really was being serious about the slipper. i know my sons better than anyone and I can assure you that the slightest sign of weakness from you will result in disaster. They're two of the nicest, kindest and considerate boys anyone could ever hope to meet, but they are also the most mischievous. They're bound to try it on with you. If they do, the only way to cope is to wallop them hard. No second chances, because they'll take them and try to make them into third, fourth and fifth chances."
"Don't worry Sir", Robbie replied with a smile, "I'm sure they'll toe the line."
The twins came down at just before 8 o'clock. Sammy was still in bed (you must remember she was a teenager). As they sat at the kitchen table eating their cereal Robbie joined them and started his prepared speech. He had known that he would have to lay down the rules clearly at the outset and he had given the matter considerable thought. As he had hoped, when the first of them had come in he had immediately identified himself, in the casual way that the twins did to those who could not tell them apart.
"Hi Robbie, I'm Timmy, is Sammy up yet?"
Timmy had sat at the table before Charlie came in. So, until they both left the room, he knew which was which. The first thing he did was to produce a felt tip pen which he had bought on the previous day after he had seen it described as having indelible ink. He had heard a great deal about the twins, both from Sammy and from them, and he knew full well that there was nothing they enjoyed more than capitalising on the inability of those in authority over them to tell them apart.
"OK lads, preliminaries first. It's going to be important for me to work out which of you is which. We don't want any of this switching lessons routine you were telling me about last Summer. So here's what we are going to do. I'm going to put a tiny T on Timmy's leg and arm and tiny C on Charlie's leg and arm with this pen. You won't be able to wash it off I'm afraid, but it should disappear in a couple of weeks. That way I can always check I've got the right twin at the right time.".
The twins laughed.
"You're not stupid are you Robbie?" said Charlie, "looks like one of our plans won't work out."
He stood and approached his tutor, to allow the temporary tattoos to be put in place. Robbie carefully marked a C on the boy's right wrist and then turned him round and bent down to make the same mark on the back of his left thigh, just below the line of his shorts. As he finished, Robbie glanced again at the shape of the firm young buttocks which he remembered so well from the previous Summer's slippering. As before, they made him think of Sammy's beautifully slim bottom and he sighed happily. He repeated the exercise on Timmy and then started to explain the routine.
"There's one major rule lads. We do three hours revision every day except Saturdays and Sundays. Absolutely nothing will ever persuade me to relax that rule. Is that understood?"
The twins exchanged glances. You will not be surprised to hear that they had agreed, when discussing tactics, that it would be a good idea to try to persuade Robbie to reduce the hours of work to two a day, with Wednesday, as well as the weekends, off. But there was something in Robbie's tone which made them think again. With a grimace, they both sadly nodded their heads.
"Good, now I don't mind when the hours are and I don't mind what you get up to, within reason, outside those hours. What I suggest is that we agree the revision times every morning at 8 o'clock. We can do the day's work in one three hour session, in two one and a half hour sessions or in three one hour sessions. But, whatever we agree, you have to stick to it. I know it's not always easy to get back at precisely the time agreed and I'm not going to be a monster about it. If you are up to half an hour late, we will just add that time onto the end of the session. But if you're more than half an hour late we will add on whatever the time is on the next day and you will be slippered as well. Does that seem fair to you?"
Again, because it did sound fair to them, they glumly nodded their agreement.
"when we are working, that is exactly what we will do. I'm not one of those crusty old school masters who can be diverted by questions about what I did in the war and all that nonsense. Not only was I not born at the time of the war, but I also have just as much experience as I am sure you have of using tactics like that on masters. So I can spot it a mile off. Understood?"
Two nods again.
"OK, now the slipper. Last Summer you seemed to think it a good idea that I should do it like your dad does, bare bum and across my knee. Well I've been thinking about that. I couldn't work out why you volunteered to have it like that, but then I worked it out. It's because that way you could cut down my swinging space. Is that right?"
This time they both smiled. Charlie replied.
"Can't pull the wool over your eyes for long, can we? Yup, that's why I suggested it last time. I reckoned it would hurt less, even bare bum, if we were over your knee rather than bending over like at school."
Robbie smiled back. "Canny lads. Well, I'm sorry, but it's going to be different this time. Have you got school running shorts here?"
They both nodded.
"Good, well if I ever have to slipper you I want you to change into them, no underpants just like PE at school and then you can bend over like you do at school. If it's any consolation, you can just imagine how much worse it's going to be when you get swished at Upton OK?"
Again they nodded.
"Right, that's all the rules. Now when do you want to do today's revision?"
The twins had already discussed the timetable they wanted for that day, even though they had not then known they would have a say in it. High tide would be at 1.30 in the afternoon. Low tide was at 8.00. They really wanted to spend as much of the day in the cave (while it was inaccessible to others) as they could. The bicycle ride would take them about an hour. So, if they set off at nine o'clock, they should get to the island just after the tide had risen enough to prevent others from using the cave. The cave would then be accessible from the beach again from about six in the evening. They knew they would never be allowed to spend that long there, but if they could set the revision time for four o'clock, and do a full three hour session, that should give them enough time to have some real fun. So that was the suggestion they made to Robbie. That suited him too and so the agreement was made.
Robbie then suggested that the twins might like to show him their island. Now, they were eager to show it off to him, but they had realised, when discussing it in bed the night before, that they couldn't take him there other than at low tide. The greatest attraction of the island, to them, was what they thought of as the pirates' treasure cave. If Robbie was to come, he would have to see the cave. But they couldn't show it to him other than at low tide without revealing their secret. So, regretfully, they had decided that they couldn't take Robbie today. They explained the tide problem. The timings, they said, would be much better from Friday, at least for a few days, and they would take him then. Anyway, Charlie said with something of a cheeky grin, Robbie might like having a few hours alone with Sammy.
So the day's timetable was arranged. Sammy appeared at about half past eight and Robbie explained what had been agreed. Her heart jumped a little as she learnt that she and her beau were to be alone for most of the morning and early afternoon. But, as with the previous Summer, she was also eager to fulfill her role as the twins' stand-in mother.
"Goodness, I'd better get them a picnic to take with them, otherwise they' be really starving." And she rushed to the bread bin to start preparing sandwiches.
At just after nine o'clock the twins set off for their day's adventure. Robbie and Sammy cleared and washed the breakfast things and then made their own plans for the day. Sammy suggested a game of tennis (the Hardmans had a tennis court) and Robbie readily agreed. They went to their rooms to change into tennis kit. Robbie was down first and he waited in the hall at the bottom of the stairs. A few moments later he heard her footsteps and looked up to see a vision of perfection. She was wearing the shortest imaginable white tennis skirt. Her long, slim, bare legs seemed to go on for ever. Her white blouse hugged her budding breasts. As he so often did when he saw her approaching him, he sighed in admiration and something approaching love. She, for her part, looked down at a sight which she found just as enchanting. Robbie's tennis shorts were almost as revealing as her short skirt. They were very short and very tight. Although modesty should perhaps have prevented her from doing so, she couldn't help letting her eyes rest on the distinct bulge at the front. Then she looked him up and down and, for the thousandth time, thank every god she could think of for making her adonis so loyal. He was just so handsome. Of course, he was still a boy. The hair on his long slim legs was a sort of boyish down, hardly visible from the stairs. He was obviously muscular and strong, but his physique was still that of a boy who had not quite yet reached manhood. As she reached the bottom of the stairs and he turned to open the door, she gazed adoringly at the outline of his slim and firm buttocks. What on earth had she done, she thought, to deserve this paragon of a boyfriend. And she, too, sighed.
We must leave Robbie and Sammy now and join the twins on their adventure. The bicycle ride and boat trip went without a problem. They were disappointed, on getting to the island, to see another small rowing boat high up on the beach. But at least, they agreed, whoever the other visitor was would not be able to get into the cave. Nevertheless, it would clearly be important to keep a watch out, to make sure that whoever it was didn't see them going through the trap door. They went round to the western side of the hill. They saw no one anywhere, which was a slight worry, but they quickly climbed the overgrown and hidden steps to the top. Once there, they looked around carefully. There was still no one in sight. They agreed that Timmy would keep a watch out while Charlie uncovered the trap door. But there was no one to be seen. One by one, they eased themselves down. Timmy carefully pulled the trap door shut after him (they hoped desperately that they would have the strength to open it on the way back). Then they started the long climb down.
They must have been about three quarters of the way down when Charlie thought he heard the sound of a voice above the rush of the sea. He stopped and listened carefully. Perhaps it was his imagination. He signalled to Timmy to be as quiet as possible and continued his descent.
There were about ten rungs to go when Charlie heard it again. It was a girl's voice, and it had come from below him somewhere. Someone else was in the cave. He whispered up to Timmy that there was someone there and both must be as quiet as possible. Very gingerly, they went on down.
Once he got to the bottom rung, Charlie felt with his right foot for the first of the stone steps set into the wall. Normally, he would have jumped, but the need for silence prevented that. He found the step and eased himself onto it. Very slowly and very quietly he climbed down to the ground. Timmy followed a moment later and they both stood and listened. There was silence for a few seconds. Then, without absolute clarity, they heard the voice of a girl.
"What is it Jo?".
"I don't know", another girl's voice, presumably Jo's, "it's wedged in too deep."
"Here, let me have a go."
Another period of silence followed, interrupted only by a sort of scrabbling sound, as of fingers trying to prise something out of the rocks.
"It's no good, I can't budge it".
"Well, we'll just have to come back tomorrow with a chisel or something. That would probably do it." This was clearly Jo again.
"I can't see Dad letting us out of the house again after this. The tide won't be low enough to get out for hours. We're in big, big trouble."
"I know. Why did he have to come in just then? It's just so unfair. Do you think Dad'll use the hairbrush this time?"
"Bound to. If we tell him the truth we'll get it for coming here in the first place. If we think up some lie he'll see through it in seconds."
"I vote" said the voice that was obviously Jo's, "that we try to swim for it. If we get back by lunch time, even if our clothes are soaked, we'll probably only get smacked. What do you say".
"Maybe, just let's think things through a bit."
Then there was more silence. The roar of the sea was loud enough for Charlie and Timmy to try whispering to each other without being heard by the girls on the other side of the stone slab.
"We can't let them swim", said Timmy, "they'd never make it. That current is vicious."
"I know", his brother whispered back, "but if we climb over and stop them they'll work out that there must be another way in. I'm going to try and see who they are."
He stretched up and found the metal rail. Timmy crouched down behind him.
"OK, I'll give you a push up". He cupped his hands under Charlie's bottom and pushed upwards as Charlie pulled on the rail.
Charlie's head got just above the top of the stone slab. Timmy held him in place and he looked over. What he saw was truly astounding.
The girls had their backs to him, but he still realised the truth. They must have been about the same age as him and Timmy. They both had short dark hair. They were slim and tall (about the same height as him and Timmy). They were both wearing tight fitting green shorts which hugged two, to Charlie's eyes, delightfully proportioned slim round bottoms. Their shirts were different colours. One wore red and the other blue. The shirts might be different, thought Charlie, but nothing else is. He signalled to Timmy to let him down.
"Well. Who are they?" asked Timmy.
"Never set eyes on them before in my life", his brother replied, "but I'll tell you something". He paused to allow the drama of the moment to sink in. "They're identical twins and my guess is they're about the same age as us."
Timmy was about to reply when the one who wasn't Jo spoke again.
"OK, I agree, there's nothing for it. We'll have to swim for it."
The boys looked at each other in horror. Everyone, they thought, knew that no one could swim out of that cave. It was suicide to try it. Whether they would eventually have relented and revealed the safe exit to the girls if the attempt to swim had not been announced, I don't know. I hope and believe that gallantry would have prevailed over the need to preserve the secret. After all, the girls had made it quite clear that, unless they got out soon, they would be getting the hairbrush from their father. Neither boy had ever been walloped with that particular instrument, but they knew others who had and they could anyway imagine that it must be very painful. Fortunately, they were not put to that test. There could obviously be no possibility of allowing these two foolish girls to go out to an almost certain death. They had no need to speak to each other. Both stretched up instantly and grabbed the rail. They pulled themselves up to the top of the stone slab in time to see the girls heading for the encroaching water.
"Stop", yelled Timmy, "You'll kill yourselves."
The girls turned in shock at the sound of the voice and the boys saw their faces for the first time, not clearly (because the light was behind them), but well enough to be able to see that they were very pretty, if rather tomboyish looking, girls.
The girls could see the boys more clearly. The light from the beach was shining straight on them. Now it was the turn of the girls to be amazed. What they saw was two boys of identical appearance and size, about their own age, slim and fit looking. They stared, completely lost for words.
Charlie and Timmy jumped down into the main part of the cave and rushed towards the other twins.
"Honestly", said Charlie, "it really is much much too dangerous to try swimming."
The girl standing on the right was the first to manage to speak.
"Have you been there all the time we've been here? Did you see the man? You must have done. You must have got in as soon as the tide was low enough. What do you think he was doing?"
The boys looked at each other. This was the crunch time. If they revealed they had only just got there, the girls would soon work out that that there had to be another entrance. If they did not, they would have to come up with some credible explanation for having not seen "the man" and having not revealed themselves to the girls until now. They knew the game was up. Again, there was no need for them to voice their conclusions. Charlie spoke for them.
"We've only just got here. We heard you trying to get something out of something and then you said you were going to get the hairbrush from your dad and then you said you were going to swim for it. That's all. We didn't see any man. By the way, I'm Charlie and my bro is Timmy. Who are you?"
The one on the left spoke this time.
"I'm Jo and my sister is Sandy. So how did you only just get here? The tide's been up for ages."
"Can you keep a secret?" This was Timmy.
"Course we can", said Sandy.
"OK, but if you ever tell anyone without our permission we'll ...", Timmy couldn't think of any appropriate penalty to impose on girls.
Charlie came to his rescue. "Have you got any bros?", he asked.
"Yes", said Jo, looking rather perplexed, "James, he's 14. Why?".
"Well", said Charlie, "if you ever tell anyone the secret we'll beat up your bro. Even if he's 14 the two of us'll be able to do it."
"Why take it out on James?", asked Jo, "it wouldn't be his fault if we told. We're the ones you should be threatening, not him."
"Well, I mean, well", Charlie stammered, "well, you're, well, you're girls".
"Bet we could beat you in a fight any day", said Sandy, "anyway, what's this secret, cross our hearts and hope to die and all that."
The boys exchanged glances once again and then Timmy made the great revelation.
"There's another way in and out of here, behind that great big stone there, there's a ladder. It goes right up to the top of the hill. There's a trap door there. But we're the only ones who know about it. This cave is ours except at low tide."
"You mean we can get out before low tide?", this was Jo.
"Whenever you want", Charlie replied, "but you just remember. No one else ever hears about it, OK?"
"OK", both girls chanted at once.
"When have you got to be back to get out of a whacking?" asked Timmy, who had decided that these girls looked rather fun and who was hoping to spend more time with them.
"It'll be OK if we're back by one and our clothes aren't wet from the sea. We're not allowed here yet, cos we've only just moved to the village and Dad says it's not safe for us to play near the sea till we know the local currents and stuff."
"Well, if you only live in the village you've got ages yet", Timmy went on, "so how about you telling us about this man and the thing you were trying to get out."
The girls then told their story. It seemed that they had got into the cave at about 9.30. They knew that they had to be out in half an hour, or wait several more hours for the tide to go down again, but they had thought it would be worth a quick look. They had been exploring towards the back of the cave when they had heard someone squelching along the already wet beach. For some reason, they had been scared and had hidden behind a rock. They had peered out and seen a man, in ragged clothes and clearly unshaven for some days, stagger into the cave. He had been carrying something in his hands. It looked as though it was wrapped in newspaper. He had looked around and, apparently satisfied that no one was there, had walked over to the right side of the cave and bent down. He had seemed to be pulling something away from the rocky wall, but his back had been to them and they had not seen clearly. After a few minutes, he had stood and walked back out to the beach. They had waited behind their rock, terrified lest he come back, but, after about five minutes, had come out. The first thing they had noticed was that the tide was now too high for them to get out of the cave. Then they had gone to the place where the mysterious man had been doing something to the wall. That, they said, must have been about when the boys had begun their descent. Anyway, they could see that the man must have hidden his package behind a rock set into the wall, but they had been unable to get it out.
This sounded, to the boys, like a true adventure. As one, they asked where the package was. Jo and Sandy pointed to a little crevice in the right hand side wall.
"It's there", said Jo, "but you'll never get it out. You need a chisel or something."
Charlie, with a flourish, produced his Swiss army knife from his shorts pocket. The four children rushed over to the wall and Charlie set to work.
It only took him thirty seconds to prise the stone away. Behind it there was a large space, about twelve inches square, and, in the space, was a small parcel wrapped in newspaper. Charlie carefully pulled it out. They all stood close as he removed the paper. Then they all let out a loud gasp of shock as they saw what it was.
Charlie almost dropped the pistol, so astounded was he by the sight of it. But he managed to hang onto it. They were all speechless for a few seconds. Then they all started talking at once. Eventually Sandy took command.
"Look, shut up everyone, we've got to think this through very carefully. OK, first, do we think he's killed someone and decided to hide the weapon?"
Timmy, who was a fan of American thrillers, was sure he could answer that.
"Here, let me look,", and he took the pistol and started a through examination. First, he sniffed the barrel. "Doesn't smell as tough it's been used recently". Then he opened it and counted the bullets. "All there, so, unless he's re-loaded, he hasn't used it yet. My guess is that he's going to use it later some time."
"I spose we're going to have to tell the police", said Sandy.
"No way", exclaimed Charlie, "this is our case now. Anyway, if we told the police your dad would find out where you've been and you'd get whacked. No, I vote we keep a watch. Timmy and me can do that. Means we'll miss revision this afternoon, but that's just bad luck. This is too important."
Sandy was not going to take this _s_e_x_ist talk from Charlie. "We were the ones who saw him so we are going to keep watch too. We can do two hours each. When's this revision you've got to do?"
"4 till 7", said Timmy.
"And how serious is it, I mean what happens if you don't turn up to do it?"
"Nothing much", said Charlie, putting on his brave boy act, "we'd just get the slipper."
"Well", Sandy went on, "it would just be plain stupid for you to get whacked when it's not needed. How late are you allowed out at night?"
"Usually have to be back by 10 if we go out in the hols", said Timmy, "but I reckon we could make a deal with Robbie. What do you think Charlie?"
"I s'pose so. If anyone would let us Robbie would."
"Who's Robbie?", asked Jo.
"He's our tutor. We're having to revise for Common Entrance this hols. That's why we've got him. Our parents are away and he and our big sister are looking after us."
"OK", sandy interrupted in her businesslike way, "this is the plan. Jo and I will get here just before 6. We'll come down your ladder and hide behind that rock again. We'll have the gun with us, so if he tries anything we can defend ourselves. Then you can take over at just after 8. If he comes back we just watch him. When he finds the gun's gone he'll probably head off again. That's the difficult part, cos we're going to have to follow him and see where he goes. If he's already come before you get here we'll leave a note under that stone."
For some reason these four twelve year old children, who really were old enough to know better, seemed entirely happy with this appallingly dangerous plan. The next step was for the boys to show the girls their secret ladder. All four clambered over the stone slab and jumped down to the ground on the other side. Because it was going to be necessary to push the trap door open, and because Charlie was quite convinced that that task would be beyond any mere girl, he opted to go up first. Jo and Sandy followed him and Timmy went last. The ascent was largely uneventful. Timmy did nearly lose his footing once, when he was paying far too much attention to Sandy's highly desirable looking bottom (which I am afraid to say he was imagining being walloped bare with a hairbrush). But they all got up safely.
Once in the fresh air again, the children started to exchange information about each other. Yes, the girls were indeed identical twins. They were 12 years old. They had moved from London a few weeks ago. They were at a boarding school in Surrey. Their brother was at public school. The boys gave their own potted histories. Somehow the recent events in the cave began to take on an air of unreality as all this casual information was bandied about. But time was rapidly passing. Sandy suddenly looked at her watch.
"Bloody hell", she exclaimed (the boys thought that very grown up), "it's five to one. Come on Jo, we're going to be late."
"Oh God", said Timmy who had now decided that he was in love with the girls but wasn't sure which one he loved most, "you won't get the hairbrush will you?"
"No", said Sandy, "that's only kept for really bad things. We'll just get a few smacks, but we'd better get a move on to keep the number down."
The boys had never heard girls being so nonchalant about spankings. Both were impressed. They showed their new friends down their secret steps on the west side of the hill and escorted them back to their boat.
On the way, Timmy could not restrain himself any longer from asking the question which was uppermost in both boys' minds.
"When you get smacked, is it on the bum or the hand?"
"Bum", said Jo, "but it's not too bad. I mean, it's not like James getting the cane at school."
Timmy knew he shouldn't ask the next question, but he just had to.
"Um, do you get it bare?" He paused and then quickly added, to demonstrate that his interest was not prurient, "like we do, I mean."
"Doesn't everyone?", said Sandy.
The girls rowed off to receive their chastisement and eat their lunch and the boys returned to the hill to eat their own picnic.
As he munched his ham sandwich, Charlie passed judgment on their new friends.
"Bloody hell they're fab girls aren't they? I wouldn't mind getting to know them really well".
"I know what you mean", said Timmy with something of a leer. "Great bodies and the opposite of wimps. Just think, those _s_e_x_y bums are probably being spanked right now. Wish I could see that."
"Me too. I'm getting hard just thinking of it."
They quickly finished their lunch and, once again, opened the trap door. Both, for some reason, felt an urgent need to be somewhere where no one would be able to see them. Once down in the cave again Charlie came up with the solution to the unspoken problem both had been contemplating.
"I'll go the other side of the slab and you stay here. When you've finished, just check that I have too and then climb over and we'll have another look around".
Then they sat, each leaning against his own side of the slab, shorts and underpants round their ankles and talked about all they would like to do with Jo and Sandy and about the punishment they were convinced that the girls must have just undergone.
Once the pressure was relieved and the excitement subsided, Timmy climbed over to join his brother. Their search, although it was immensely thorough, revealed nothing more of interest. After about an hour, they decided to go back outside, to see if there were any clues anywhere else on the island. They started from the West end and worked their way methodically through to the east. They found two old cigarette packets and one used condom. The latter they discarded as being too disgusting and almost certainly not a clue. But the cigarette packets they pocketed in case they might later throw some light on the mystery.
The girls, I regret to have to report, were not the only ones late home that afternoon. The boys were reluctant to leave the island until the last minute. You will not be surprised to learn that their time-keeping was typically atrocious. They did not mount their bicycles until 3.30. Although they reckoned they might be able, just, to get home before 4.30, they also worked out that that would mean being stuck doing revision until about 7.30. Then they would be late for the duties in the cave. There was nothing for it, both agreed, but to arrive just after 4.30, take a slippering and then do the extra revision time on the next day.
At 4.35 precisely two rather worried twelve year old boys bicycled up the drive. They went round to the back, as usual, and then, because they had agreed that time was of the essence and waiting to be told might prolong things even more, went straight up to their rooms to change into their running shorts. It was 4.40 when they walked into their father's study, where it had been agreed that the revision classes would take place.
Robbie was waiting for them. His face registered some surprise when he noticed the thin, exceptionally brief, running shorts in which they were clothed. He had had mixed emotions as he had stared at his watch, seeing the minute hand gradually moving towards the half hour. He hated admitting it to himself, but he had actually quite enjoyed slippering the boys in the Summer. Part of him was hoping that he was about to get another go. But another part of him was also hoping that they would somehow magically appear just before 4.30, so he wouldn't have to hurt them again. It wasn't that he felt guilty that he might have to slipper them. Far from it. He quite agreed with Mr Hardman that it was going to be essential to make it clear to the boys, right from the start, that wrong-doing would be met with punishment. And it certainly did not occur to him that boys of their age could be punished in any other way. No, it was simply that he liked them and he hoped that he would not have to be too severe with them during what were, after all, their school holidays. But now he was going to have to do it. His task was made easier by their obvious acceptance of the inevitable.
As for the boys, well, however brave a face they were putting on things, the resigned expressions on their faces disguised the familiar feelings of fear which they never failed to have when about to be punished. They knew that Robbie was a demon with the slipper. They knew that their thin cotton shorts would provide absolutely no protection from the force of the shoe. Their hands were sweaty, their breathing was uneven. Their tummies were doing somersaults. But they waited patiently to hear the sentence of the court.
"I take it from the way you are dressed that you know what time it is?"
They nodded.
"Anything to say?"
They shook their heads.
"Three each".
He walked quickly to the cabinet and removed the large shoe. He turned back to the boys. One of them was already bending over in front of the fireplace. He approached and saw the small C on the left thigh. So Charlie was to be first. The shorts were stretched incredibly tightly over the boy's small bottom. They had ridden up to reveal part of the buttocks themselves. Robbie laid the slipper across his target, pulled it back and swung forward again it with ferocious force. Charlie knew what to expect and he stood firm without making a sound. But his bottom was already in agony. The next two followed very quickly. It was only seconds after he had bent over that he was standing clutching his burning, throbbing bottom. Timmy had watched and seen the lower part of his brother's bottom, that part which was not covered by the shorts, turning the familiar scarlet colour. He took a deep breath and marched forward to bend over himself. His three were just as painful. He clutched his bottom as rapidly as Charlie had the second it was over.
"OK, boys, you can go and change. We'll start at five and add an hour onto tomorrow's session."
The twins were grateful for those few minutes to get over the worst of the beatings. They ran up the stairs and, once in their room, ripped their shorts down. The marks were very impressive. They, once again, remarked to each on Robbie's prowess with the slipper. They agreed that a caning from him, which they would almost certainly get at Upton, must be a most fearsome thing. They applied wet flannels to each other's bottoms. Gradually they recovered and, at eight sharp, they presented themselves to Robbie for an hour's Latin and an hour's history.
What happened that night, back at the cave, is something you will have to wait to discover in the next instalment.