The Boy I Love Read Free Page B

1950, she was still
studying in her final year at the Slade. She had met him at one of the notorious Chelsea Art Club balls. Douglas was taking his finals in History at Oxford, but hoping to become an art teacher in
one of the big public schools. He was a very confident young man veering on the arrogant, and saw teaching as a means to express himself in ways he could never have achieved as an artist, firstly
because he did not have the talent, and secondly because his parents had refused to let him go to art school. Patricia thought him the handsomest man she had ever set eyes on, and as they danced
the night away she fell madly, wonderfully, completely in love with him. Douglas was pleased and flattered. After all, she was very beautiful, and someone who would complement his image perfectly.
The pair had spent the summer in passionate embraces, with wild parties at the Arts Club by night and picnics beside the Serpentine by day. Douglas took his young love to Oxford and showed her off
to all and sundry. By the end of the summer they had announced their engagement, and life changed very dramatically for the young couple.
    Douglas had secured a teaching post at Stowe – a very prestigious public school in Buckinghamshire. He had been offered a small cottage in the grounds, and the newlywed couple set up home.
All hopes Patricia may have had of a life as a carefree artist floated out of the tiny latticed window of the damp cottage in which she was now a prisoner. She was alone for long hours of the day
while her husband taught privileged, but mostly untalented, boys how to wield a paintbrush. For most of the class it was a period when they could play up, chat and tell dirty jokes. Douglas very
soon became disenchanted with the notion of his special calling as a teacher. His power was almost non-existent, and he soon turned his frustration onto his wife. Oh, they were still madly in love,
and Patricia did everything in her power to make life easy and smooth for her darling husband, but he would often be quite patronizing and cold towards her.
    Slowly, over the coming years she learned to ignore his jibes about her intellect and abilities. She would laugh delightedly in front of guests as he berated her for some tiny misdemeanour or
other, and he would eventually step down from his high horse and wallow in her adoration. It was a strange marriage but it somehow worked. They spent the school holidays travelling round Europe,
and Patricia was in her element then, giving Douglas endless sermons on the History of Art. She became his part-time researcher, doing most of his homework for him. He would always return from one
of their trips abroad full of information for his classes, and presenting the students with reams of slides and photos. He became quite renowned for his ‘out of hours devotion’ to duty.
Obviously, Patricia had no idea just how useful she was to her husband. It was a mutually agreeable arrangement though, because Patricia loved feeling superior in some small way to her gorgeous
lovely husband, who was so bright and witty. In turn, Douglas was more than happy to praise his eager young wife and accept all the teachings she threw at him while enjoying the respect and
attention from his pupils and peers.
    The couple had a good life in many ways, and it was a few years before the idea of children entered their togetherness. Patricia was almost ambivalent to the idea. She was quite happy playing
muse, mistress and even mother to her darling husband. Douglas, however, decided the time was approaching when they should try for a family. Two years later, in 1962, Sally was born – and two
years after that, her sister Dora arrived. They were both dear little girls and Douglas loved them. In fact, he thrived, surrounded by all the female adoration. He gained a good reputation at
Stowe, and was eventually head-hunted and moved to Cheltenham Ladies College as Head of Department. He loved his job and revelled