Growing up, being a member of the Orange Order didn’t seem like that big a thing. It was just what you did. My Dad was a member, my older brother was a member, my Uncle Ian was a member. It was just a laugh, a march with your friends and relations, bands, music, flags.
That all changed the summer I hit eighteen.
There were three of us in my circle of friends. I kinda saw us as the ‘Three Amigos’, with me being the Steve Martin type character. I saw everything as a laugh. Sammy was a big, loud and extroverted farmer’s son. He had a big heart even if he occasionally only opened his mouth to change feet. Billy, on the other hand, was the quiet one, the thinker of our group. Billy wanted to go to Art School but his Dad was set against it.
One evening, after band practice, as we packed away the drums, two girls from our school wandered into the hall. Heather was a cute little blonde with a turned-up nose and ice blue eyes while her friend Elizabeth was taller and, without wanting to sound harsh, a bit plain but she was a good laugh. The two girls were like a double act.
“What are youse doing?” Heather asked, more as a way of breaking the ice than a serious question, given that we had drum cases open and drums half loaded inside.
“Robbing a bank, what does it look like?” Sammy responded, his eyes sparkling as he checked Heather out.
I noticed Elizabeth staring at Billy, who immediately turned red. It was impressive, even the tips of his ears glowed as he fumbled over the clasps, desperately trying to avoid eye contact.
“Alright, Andy?” Heather inquired, turning her attention to me.
“Aye, I’m grand.” I smiled at Heather. We’d known each other for years. Our mams were best friends and she was more like my sister than my real sister who liked to pretend I was adopted.
“You know the fair’s coming next week. They’ve got a new ride.”
“Is that right?” I knew what was coming. I could see both Billy and Elizabeth standing awkwardly, trying not to look at each other as their friends tried to arrange a date without it looking like a date.
“Aye, maybe we’ll see you on it. I heard it’s wile scary.” Heather finished, one eyebrow raised conspiratorially.
“Come on, Liz, let’s go.” And with that, the two girls headed off.
Nothing was said as the three of us wandered up the road. The early summer sun was just beginning to disappear behind the trees as we said goodbye and watched Sammy heading up the lane to his house.
“I don’t fancy Elizabeth,” Billy stated as soon as we were alone.
I turned and looked at him. “You don’t ever fancy anyone, Billy.”
He blushed again.
“I do,” he stammered, “just.. “ he trailed off and stared at the ground. His trainer kicking a stone into the ditch.
“I’d better go,” he announced and turned and ran off up the road to his house.
-----
I walked into the Orange lodge the next Thursday evening and heard a banging coming from the instrument storeroom. Suddenly the door opened and the Lodge Gand Master, Mr Wilson came out looking a bit flushed and rearranging his belt. He saw me and blushed.
“Ah Andy, good to see you. Was just checking the drums with Billy there. Want everything ready for the parade, don’t we?”
I nodded and walked into the storeroom. Billy was standing, leaning his head back against the wall. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve when he saw me.
“You OK?” I whispered. He nodded and turned and picked up the Lambeg drum case and carried it out into the room.
That night, as we walked home, I decided to ask him.
“What was that with you and Mr Wilson?”
“It was nothing, Andy. Leave it.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
“Andy, seriously, just fuck off and leave me alone.”
He turned and ran. I just stood there, dumbfounded.
-----
I called round to his house the next afternoon. His mam just rolled her eyes and nodded her head to indicate Billy was upstairs and to go on up.
I opened the bedroom door and saw Billy packing some of his favourite possessions into a faded green army kit bag. He glanced up as I entered but carried on sorting through his books.
“Where are you going?” I asked as my brain tried to comprehend what was going on. “Are you leaving without even saying anything?”
“I was going to say goodbye,” he muttered as he picked up a battered paperback.
“The Metamorphosis of Mr Samsa, do you want to read it? It sums up this place.”
I shook my head and watched as he slid it into the bag.
“I’m going to London. I can’t stay here. This place, it’s stifling me.”
He dropped his hands to his sides and finally looked at me.
“I can’t live here, I can’t be who I am here. I can’t be with who I want to be here.”
“What? You want to be with Mr Wilson?” I asked incredulously.
“No.” He stammered and went red. “That's not what I want."
“Well I was a bit surprised about you and Wilson yesterday. I never realised.”
I stared at the boy I’d known my whole life and felt something stirring inside me. Without thinking, my body took over, I stepped across the room as if I was stepping across the Rubicon. I took Billy’s face in my hands and kissed him.
It was the first time I’d ever kissed a boy. My fingers caressed his cheeks, feeling the stubble as our mouths opened and our tongues swirled, entwined together, fighting.
I broke the kiss and stepped back, my chest heaving, emotions flooding my senses, my heart palpitating. I gazed into his eyes. His pupils were large, dilated and it was like drowning in two black pools.
This time, he took the lead. His hand wrapped around my head, feeling my short bristly blond fuzz as he pushed my face to his. We kissed again, our mouths moving in unison as I felt myself harden, pressed against his thigh.
A creak on the stair forced us quickly apart and I took two steps back and ran my hand over my mouth just in time as the door opened and his wee sister Julia came in.
“Mam wants to know if you are staying for tea, Andy?” she asked as she looked around Billy’s room.
“Can I’ve your room when you go. When are you going anyway? Are you still going to be here for the 12th?”
Billy stood, staring at her. “Eh, I dunno.” He looked at me. “Do you want to stay for tea?”
I felt flustered, I wanted to talk to Billy but not here.
“Naw, I’d better be getting home. Dad will be looking for a hand with the evening milking and he’ll be giving out hell if I’m not there.”
“Talk to you later, yeah?” My eyes implored Billy to agree and he nodded.
-----
Everyone seemed slower than ever that evening putting away the drums. I’d kept stealing surreptitious glances at Billy whilst we beat out the rhythm as the flutes played ‘The Sash’. He would glance over, catch my eye and grin.
Finally, there was just the two of us left. After we heaved the big Lambeg drum up onto the shelf, we turned and faced each other. Within seconds we were in each other’s arms and kissing. It felt so good I wondered why I'd waited so long.
“You dirty wee feckers!”
We stopped and turned. Standing watching us were Mr Wilson and two other men. We’d forgotten they were in the room next door planning next week’s march.
“So, we’ve got a couple of fucking shirt lifters, have we, boys? I don’t think we care much for that in the Order, do we?”
“No, Mervyn, you’re right there.”
The men looked red and angry as they approached us. We backed against the wall. I glanced at Billy. He was pale, his fists clenched.
“And what would you two wee fuckers be up to?” Wilson’s face was distorted, snarling as he approached. I knew he’d deny what he’d been up to with Billy but the hypocrisy stank. I had a bad feeling about this. Billy felt the same. We quickly glanced at each other and as he nodded, we charged the men, hoping for the element of surprise.
Billy burst through, knocking Luther Lennon over as he ducked the grabbing hand and burst through, not looking back as he ran for the door. I wasn’t so lucky. I feigned a dive to the left then skipped to the right but Mr Wilson, despite his age had read the signs and as I ran past, he neatly clipped my ankle with his foot and sent me crashing to the floor.
Billy stopped at the doorway and looked back.
“Get out to fuck, Billy! Run!” I screamed at him as the men reached down and pulled me to my feet.
Luther Lennon and another burly farmer, Angus Donaldson held me tightly as Mr Wilson stood in front of me.
“What would your Grandad say, Andrew? It would break his heart to find out you were a wee fucking queer.”
Wilson shook his head almost sadly before slamming his fist into my guts. My mind went blank as all the breath was expelled from my body. I tried to double over in pain but the other two were holding me up.
“Your Grandad was a pillar of the community, Andrew. You share his name. How can you sullen his memory like this?”
I thought I was prepared for the punch this time but when it came, the pain was even worse. I could feel myself trying to retch as the men held me.
“I want you to promise me something, Andrew.”
He stepped closer now, holding my face up by my hair as he pushed his snarling face into mine. I could see the flecks of spittle flying from his lips as he snarled his order.
“I want you to have nothing to do with that dirty wee fucking queer ever again. Billy Robinson is scum. He should never have been allowed in the lodge.”
