First of all a million apologies to everyone who has read 'Harold's Odyssey', I had not realised just how much time had passed since I posted it so here are my excuses. Feel free to yell at me if it makes you feel better.
The main reason is I have not been able to access my account so have had to make a new one. This of course means I can't continue with 'Harold's Odyssey' with the old account so I will do a quick summary then on with the new.
Other reasons are my mother has had cancer(now clear)and my father is in the early stages of dementia. Things are not easy now but easier, so I will now let Harold continue his Odyssey. Thank you so much to all of you who read and reviewed the original post.
Harold, Albert and Hercules belong to the genius of Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, everyone else is my own creation.
Synopsis of 'Harold's Odyssey'
Harold Steptoe was a rag and bone man as his father had been and his father before him. Harold lived with his father in the house in Oildrum Lane and expected his life to continue in monotony and disappointment.
While out on his rounds one day a young woman had asked him to come to the local school and give her class a talk on the rag and bone business, which he had been happy to do.
Some time later he had met the woman again in a pub and she had introduced him to her friends. To his surprise they had welcomed him and included him in their group, not caring what he did for a living. It was the first time he had been accepted for himself and he liked it.
The group of friends were all taking night classes at the local art college and when Harold showed an interest they invited him to come to the college and have a go at drawing and painting.
When he got to the college the class teacher, François, mistook him for that night's life model. Even when Harold protested he was there to learn he was persuaded to model for the class, so long as he didn't have to be nude.
Harold's Odyssey Continued: Chapter 1
François took Harold into the storeroom where he was amazed to see racks of clothes and boxes of props.
"Is this what your models use when they pose?" He asked looking round.
"Indeed Harry. In this room I can equip a model with all they need for a particular look or era." He went to a rack and began to look through the outfits. "Tonight I have plans for Alexander the Great and I think you will be just perfect. I'm not bothering with footwear as it is just an upper body pose. Aha!" He turned to Harold holding a plain tunic and breastplate. "I think these will fit you. Try them on while I find the helmet and sword." At this point Harold hesitated.
"Can I keep my trousers on?" François kept rummaging through the boxes.
"Harry, three things for you to remember. One, I have a boyfriend. Two, I never mix business with pleasure. Three, you are not my type." He turned holding a helmet and brandishing a sword. "I think these will do nicely."
"I apologise if I caused any offence." Harold began but François waved his apology away.
"Think nothing of it Harry. Believe me I have heard a lot worse in my lifetime. Now you get changed while I tell the others what to expect, come out when you are ready." He opened the door then turned, a grin on his face. "You might consider taking your trousers off, I'm sure the ladies will appreciate it."
As soon as the door closed Harold began to undress, his mind in a whirl. He had not expected anything like this, he had only come to see if he could paint and draw. What were the others going to think when they saw him, would they laugh? No they wouldn't, they weren't like that. He put the tunic on, it came down to mid-thigh which wasn't too bad so he did remove his trousers. The breastplate fit over his head and tied at the sides, it fit rather well. He put the helmet on then picked up the sword.
"Ok." He said. "Let's go." He opened the door and marched out determinedly.
He was greeted by several wolf whistles, which almost sent him running back to the store room.
"Well." Said François. "Doesn't he look absolutely marvellous?"
"Every inch a conqueror." Said Roger.
"Look at those legs!" Exclaimed Jan. "Harry, you are a hunk." He could feel himself blushing as he walked to the chair in the middle of the circle of easels.
"Do you want me to sit or stand?" He waited while they discussed options. They decided to have him standing with one foot on the chair, holding up his sword while gazing into the distance.
"Imagine your army has just defeated the enemy and you are surveying the dead on the battlefield." Said François. "And let us know when you need a break, usually thirty minutes or so is the rule."
"I will, thank you." He took the pose. "Is that what you want?"
"Perfect."
He found it rather interesting, even though he was just standing there. The others chatted as they worked, occasionally asking him to move slightly, and François walked around commenting on their work.
At the end of thirty minutes there was the promised break and two of the women set about making tea and coffee. Harold sat on the chair, grateful for the chance to move.
"Tea or coffee Harry?" Asked Carole.
"Coffee please, milk and two sugars." They sat around and chatted while they drank their tea and coffee. Jan told François how she had come to meet Harold and how he had become part of their group. Once again he was surprised how the art teacher accepted him and his trade, asking him questions about his life.
"Perhaps one evening you could come in your work clothes so we can paint you."
"But I want to learn to paint." Protested Harold.
"And you will, next time you come in I will personally take you through the basics. I am just so pleased you were able to help us out of a fix tonight, they are getting a bit sick of fruit."