Not
many people were out except boys and girls of his own age. Cats, he called them
to himself. I wonder how many of the cats are around tonight? They met at a café
called Nick’s. It was a workmen’s café in the daytime but at
night it was different. It acquired an excitement and a
glamour. It was the café for the boys on motor-bikes. It was like a badge of
admittance, the bike and the gear. It gave Reggie his only sense of belonging
and being part of society. The gear was made of leather: leather trousers,
leather jackets, leather gloves. It made them feel
important. They felt select. They were proud. All their money went on the bike
or the clothes. The girls liked to see them in leather, they liked to wear it,
to have this feeling of separateness and power. Other people were frightened or
attracted. Some men came along dressed in the whole kit, yet Reggie knew they
hadn’t motor-cycles, but cars parked a mile down the road. The boys laughed at
them. They called them ‘kinky’, and ‘the leather johnnies’, but some of them
went off with them. They said it was good for an easy quid or two.
As they rode home Reggie wondered if he ought to try to see Dot
tomorrow. He felt responsible and although he had no intention of living with
her again, he felt they should talk about their future. What about his future?
Would he go on living with Dick’s Gran? Sleeping in the same room as Dick? He
had been shaken by last night. He knew it wasn’t just an instance, happening because of the
particular circumstances. His feelings for Dick now were like those he had had
when he first met Dot. He was excited and anxious. He
thought, why should I feel like this over Dick, I’m not queer. But perhaps he
was, if he felt as he did. He knew
blokes often had sex together if there were no girls around, in the army and
things. It didn’t mean anything. But this did. It wasn’t because there was nothing
better.
