Date: Sun, 05 Nov 2006 21:17:59 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:
Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
by
Joel
Some of the Characters Appearing:
Mark Henry Foster The story-teller.
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams Mark's boy-friend and
well-proportioned
Francis Michael [Microbe] Foster Alias Toad: just growing and
wondering
Laurent de Villiers [Crapaud] French, growing and full of
knowledge
Gordon Foster Father of Mark and Francis
Maria (Angelica Matteoli) Foster Mother of Mark and Francis
Nicholas Price-Williams QC Father of Tristan
Dilys Price-Williams Mother of Tristan
Ivo Richie Carr [Mark's cousin] At St Mark's: chunky and cheeky with
it
Adam Benjamin Carr Ditto, as his twin
Bryce (Babyballs) McArdle A sullen overlooked over-muscled Aussie rugger
player
Rev Dr Basil Henson A very astute Chaplain
Professor James Tanner A formidable Mathematics don
David (Dingley) Dell The Augustus Pennefather organ scholar Oct
'98-Jul '01
Matthew Thyssen Another organ scholar [1999] studying English
Drew Penry-Jones A third organ scholar [2000] studying Natural
Sciences
Charles (Clarissa) Fane-Stuart The 'Servant of the Chapel' and
Footlights star
Albert Tomkins A Head Porter with an elephantine memory
Jason Knott An Assistant Porter with long
antecedents
Mr Simon Finch-Hampton A two-faced History don [Pinch-Bum]
Annabelle Lewis A terrifying Ladies' Lacrosse player
Alexandra Coutts Annabelle's 'friend' and not to be trifled with
12. Tris at St Mark's: October 2000
I started back at school three weeks or so before Tris went to
Cambridge. The night before his departure we'd had a superb meal which
Auntie Di had prepared with all her expertise. Uncle Nick said if Tris
thought that was the standard of cooking he'd get for the next eight weeks
he'd be most mistaken. As we'd experienced school dinners and that lunch
at St Mark's - substantial and filling but a bit monotonous - I thought
he'd cope. It wasn't a tearful farewell but, I think, we were both a bit
emotional.
I didn't go with him and his parents when he went up next day with
all his clobber to get settled in. When they got back they came in and had
a meal and told us the news. Uncle Nick said the College hadn't changed
much since he'd visited it when he was an undergraduate along at Caius,
still as dark and dingy as ever in his opinion. They said they'd met
Charles who was helping the Porters to usher all the Freshers around. But
the best bit of news was that Tris was on Stair F in the room above the
Pennefather Scholar and below the twins' room. It looked as if Charles and
naughty young Knott had dealt with that during the previous few days as
Jason was busy painting Tris's name over a name on the board at the
entrance to the stairway when they arrived. I got the impression that
Jason was a little richer after that.
The next day the Thugs arrived. They liked to break their journeys to
and from Cambridge and now they were seasoned scholars, starting their
second year, they didn't need to be back early to mingle with the
wet-behind-the-ears Freshers. That was their story. They arrived astride
a rather nice motor-bike which, somehow, they'd inveigled their poor father
to buy. While Ivo was in France Adam had taken his proficiency training
and test and was in charge. This rather rankled with the first-born and
was another bone of contention in the continuation of their brotherly
argy-bargy which always amused Tris and me, if not others, who worried when
two rather muscular young men launched a seeming full-frontal attack on
each other. These quite friendly wrestles never finished as one or the
other would cry 'Pax', a signal to stop, which they instantly obeyed, only
to start once again when another argument, however minor, began. Thus the
soubriquet 'the Thugs' which Dad had applied, albeit lovingly, to them when
they were still at Prep School.
Dad was home when they arrived in the middle of the afternoon and they
were probably greeted with the usual welcome to Thug Number One and Thug
Number Two and the admonition as they were hugged, "That's my bowing arm, I
don't want it crushed!". So, when I arrived home they were comfortably
ensconced in easy chairs in the drawing-room with a plate of buns and mugs
of tea.
As soon as I appeared in the room they were up and I was also hugged
and just about crushed with a dual, "Oh, hasn't our little cousin grown?"
or some such inanity. As I was at least two inches taller than either of
them and had seen both at the Villa up until less than a month ago I
ignored their foolishness and managed to give Ivo's genitalia a friendly
squeeze in response to the same he'd done to me during that initial hug.
Luckily Dad had retired to the Shed to practice, Mum was in the front room
with a student and Frankie was upstairs wrestling with his computer game as
Ivo mouthed "Bastard!" straight in my ear and I was upended between the
pair of them and my knackers were squeezed in return again.
"What a welcome," I said when I was released and had grabbed a bun
before all had disappeared, "Sexual harassment as soon as my desirable body
appears on the scene."
"Bollocks!" was the joint reply. "Just because you're sex-starved now
Tris has left you in the lurch," said Ivo.
"Thinking about it, I might just seduce the poor lonely soul when we
get back to Cambridge," said Adam, "At least he'd be on tap and I wouldn't
have to go out on a cold night hunting for a bit."
I thought World War Number Three was about to break out. Ivo was
obviously more than annoyed with Adam over that statement. I was a bit
upset knowing how much we all valued those occasions at the Villa and now
he....
"Don't ever think of that!" said Ivo in such a tone of voice we both
knew he meant it. "You do anything to Tris and you'd have me to answer
for. He's Marky's and because we all shared our love and affection freely
on holiday doesn't mean you'd be anything like a suitable substitute!"
Poor Adam. He looked stunned. A supposedly jokey remark had
back-fired terribly. I went up to him and hugged him. "Adam, don't worry,
I know you were joking but Ivo's right, I'd be devastated if Tris found a
substitute for me."
Adam was clearly upset. "Sorry, old mate, didn't mean it like that.
Please forgive."
I hugged him again. "All's forgiven but I'm also glad I've got such a
good friend as Ivo who'll keep my interests at heart."
"Sorry again, it's my big mouth and the brain's not in gear."
It was all OK the situation was defused. And it wasn't long before
Frankie bounced in and Mum and Dad joined us.
"I thought when in residence students weren't allowed to have any
mechanical means of transport other than a plain bicycle," Dad said,
intending to wind the pair up.
Ivo was miffed anyway over not being able to be in command of the
motor-bike. "No, he can't keep it in College," he said. We all noted the
'he', not 'we'.
"But I am being allowed to garage it," said Adam.
"At Pinch-Bum's," said a not-to-be-unmiffed Ivo
As Mum and Dad already knew of that cognomen for Mr Finch-Hampton
after my encounter with him they took no notice. I thought a little
stir-up was required.
"Where's that?" I asked, then in a sarcastic tone, "He is being
friendly."
"Huh," said Ivo, "He's got a house out on the Madingley Road..."
"...And has kindly said I may leave the bike in his garage," said Adam
interrupting with such a seraphic smile on his face. "I'm the blue-eyed
boy at the moment. He gave my last essay to some don in another college
who'd said we were all dumb-clucks at St Mark's and the old boy apparently
said he would have given it an alpha rather than the beta double plus
Pinch-Bum had given it. So there!" The last directed at his brother.
I could sense that "Arse-licker" wasn't far from Ivo's tongue. He
managed "Creep!" instead.
"He said if I continued my studies in the same vein I would be a
credit to the College and to him."
"If you get a First, he'll take all the credit, you mean!" said Ivo.
"He is a good teacher, you must admit," countered Adam, "That rather
dim rugger bod from South Africa got a Desmond last year after his tutor
gave up on him and Simon took him on."
"It's Simon, now, is it?" said Ivo with a hint of acid in his voice.
Luckily inquisitive Frankie was there, hoping, of course to be offered
a pillion ride. "What's a Desmond?" he asked.
Ivo was always answering Frankie's questions and, actually, I wanted
to know as well. Like Woody Allen and 'Everything You Wanted To Know About
Sex and Didn't Dare Ask'. Why did I think of that in conjunction with
Frankie?
"Did you know there were different classes of degrees?" asked Ivo
Frankie shook his head. "No. I thought you just got a BA or
something."
"No," said Ivo, "In order there's a Geoff, then an Attila, a Desmond,
a Douglas and finally a Khyber."
Frankie looked very puzzled and I wondered what the Hell he was
talking about. Dad and Adam were laughing and Mum looked quite
uninterested.
"What's a Geoff?" asked Frankie.
"Quite simple," said Ivo, "They go from the top - a First Class is a
Geoff, that's Geoff Hurst...."
".....Oh," said Frankie cottoning on slightly quicker than me, "It's
rhyming slang! He's a footballer!"
"Give that boy a coconut!" said Adam, laughing even more, and as he
was sitting next to Frankie squeezed his leg above the knee - a move
guaranteed to set him off squealing.
"The next is an Attila," said Ivo
"The Hun?" queried Frankie who both wriggled away from Adam's grasp
and got the association there, at least.
"Yes, Attila the Hun, rhymes with Two One, that's the next class.
"So what are the others, then?" Frankie asked, "Didn't you say Desmond
and Douglas?"
"Yep," said Ivo, "A Desmond is a Two Two, Tutu like the Archbishop,
and a Douglas is a Third - Douglas Hurd the politician."
I laughed. "I've guessed the last one! Up the Khyber! Khyber Pass!
Pass!"
"That's a double rhyme," said Adam, looking at Dad who was laughing
and nodding. "Mustn't say it in front of the child! It is the bottom
grade, though!" He put emphasis on 'bottom'.
"What's that?" 'The Child' demanded. Then the realisation hit him.
Of course, every schoolboy knows. Khyber Pass. Arse. He fell silent,
mainly because Mum had gone spare when he'd dropped a plate in the kitchen
only a couple of weeks ago which had shattered and he'd said "Oh fuck!".
It wasn't the plate breaking but the expletive. No pocket money that week.
And there was Dad laughing. I could almost see the cogs grinding. Should
he say it? Mum was stirring. Oh no!
So, Frankie changed the subject. "Laurent's coming over for the
weekend at the beginning of our half-term......" I noted the 'our'. Did
that mean I was to be involved in something? "....Can we come to
Cambridge? Laurent hasn't been and we can see Tris." He turned to
me. "Can't we, Marky?"
For once the Child, Toad, Microbe, whatever, had made a good
suggestion. I wanted to hear from Tris now, this moment, but seeing him at
half-term would be ideal, or better than nothing. I said, "Good idea. Day
trip. On the Saturday?" Then I wondered if that might scupper any liaisons
the twins might have arranged - I expected they might be playing in a match
during the afternoon but we could have lunch with them and Tris and explore
the city and colleges - going on a punt would be out, I thought, too cold!
That night when we went up to bed Ivo and Adam followed me into my
room. "We're not staying," said Ivo, "Just to say we'll keep an eye on
Tris for you, especially as he's in the room below us."
"We'll see he comes to no harm," said Adam, "And I'm so sorry if you
got upset earlier. We love you and Tris just like brothers after we shared
each other's love during the summer."
"Yes," said Ivo, "It's true. We learned a lot and we'll value that
for ever." He smiled. "And I've got to keep my eye on this one too, now.
He'll be so far up Simon's..." 'Simon's' said with even more acidity.
"...arse-hole with that tongue of his we'll have to tie a rope to his
ankle!"
I shoved the pair of them out of the room and Adam had Ivo's head in
almost an arm- lock as they went off, quite silently, to the spare room. I
was in bed very quickly. Images of that summer's couplings, of Ivo and
Adam's bronzed muscled bodies with their sturdy erections merging with the
pictures of my Tristan and his firm, raunchy, sexy body......Oh, OOH, OOOH!
I had hardly touched my own more than sturdy erection when the first of the
three tumultuous climaxes of that night occurred. I needed the release of
so much pent-up emotion. Fuck it, I had to get to sleep as I had an early
start at school tomorrow! I was on duty checking off the late-comers in my
role as a full Prefect.
I waited in vain all the rest of the week for any message from Tris.
Everyone at church on Sunday wanted to know how he was getting on and all I
could say was he'd gone up with Mr and Mrs Price-Williams and all we'd
heard since was one e-mail when I got back from school on Thursday
afternoon which just said 'Wow, too busy to write now I'm off to the
Freshers' meeting!!!'
I moped a bit but practised like mad to vent my frustrations. I
vented my frustrations three times in another way on Saturday and Francis
kept eyeing me and said little as I might have been on a short fuse. He
did a sweet thing after we went to bed on Sunday evening. I had just
undressed when there was a discreet tap on the door and a whispered
'Marky'.
I opened the door and Francis eyed me fully this time. I was in my
natural state just about to crawl into my lonely pit.
"Marky," said Francis, looking up at me with quite a soulful look in
his eyes, "If you like I'll keep you company tonight." He shook his head.
"Nothing else." He smiled up at me. "I know you're missing him and you've
looked so sad today after church.
I can just be with you, if you like."
He slipped off his boxers before getting into bed. I clung to him
rather than the other way round.
"Marky, can I ask you something?" He was snuggled right up against
me.
I was so glad of the company I said "Yes".
"When I'm old enough would you show me how boys make love like you and
Tris did with Ivo and Adam at the villa?" he said, very quietly, but there
was sincerity in his question.
I was rather startled. Those wonderful nights hadn't been planned and
I thought that as far as the other occupants of the villa were concerned we
were all in our allotted rooms every night. Francis and Ernesto shared a
room just as the other two pairs of us did. Ivo and Adam came to us in
Tris's and my room, we thought, without others knowing.
"How did you know?" I asked without betraying a rather heightened
concern. What did he know?
"It's alright," he said, he must have detected something. "Nesto and
I couldn't sleep one night so we went along the outside balcony and we
heard you four all talking together." He paused. "Actually, you weren't
talking, it sounded as if things were happening and you were all murmuring.
I wanted to look in but Nesto said it was very private and pulled me away.
When I asked him he said in English you were doing boy love and he said in
Italian you were all 'arrapato', you were, you know, horny, and doing
things not just pulling - you know, wanking...." He lapsed into silence..
"When you're older we'll talk about it, but not tonight. It was very
right for Nesto not to let you look. It was very private and I know you
wouldn't want to upset Ivo and Adam. It was private for them and for Tris
and me. Do you understand?"
"You'll tell me though some time? It's important just like when I
asked you things before. I need to know and I promise I won't say anything
to Jack. He's looked things up like that on the Internet but this is
really private, I know. Please?"
"I promise," I said and kissed his cheek. "That's to tell you I
promise."
He must have been tired as he just nodded against me and snuggled up
even closer. I could feel his gentle hot breath on my neck as he settled
and went to sleep.
I began to relax after that rather unsettling bit of information. If the
thirteen-year-old and the sixteen-year-old had witnessed those final acts
what would they have done? But, Ernesto? He must know about love in that
way. How? But, a very kind and considerate boy taking my inquisitive
little brother away like that. And Jack. Frankie sensed this was
something to private and precious even to be shared with his friend. I
relaxed further and slept very soundly. Francis woke me up just before
seven with a peck of a kiss on my nose. "I'll do this whenever you like
and I'll wait for you to tell me things. I can't bear to see you sad.
I love Tris as well."
He was gone before I could answer. Perhaps some day a Toad would be
kissed and turn into the handsome prince I knew was lurking there
somewhere.
As soon as I got home from school after the Senior Orchestra practice
on Tuesday I dived into the kitchen as I was ravenous. There was a note
from Francis propped up against an empty milk bottle. "You have mail. No.
I haven't read it." Another note, from Mum, read, "Food at seven. Raid
fridge now."
I didn't even raid the fridge. I saw a packet of biscuits and grabbed
three and raced upstairs to Frankie's room. The computer was on. A
Post-It note stuck on the middle of the screen said 'remember your
password!'
As an only recently deflowered computer virgin I clicked Start, then
on 'Mark', typed in 'micr9be' and clicked on the Outlook Express icon on my
page. Success! There were three messages. I opened the first one which
was obviously typed in haste.
'Hi light of my life sorry for the delay but all's happening -
Freshers' do on Thursday joined five clubs I think - drinkies that night
with Charles and invites to six drinks dos on Friday plus lecture list to
sort and have just played in a scratch team for college XV and oh my god
it's a Saturday night pub crawl next with thugs and company - computer room
crowded and server down we're told. Love Tris xxxxxxxxxx.'
At least there was a full stop at the end. I opened the second
message and things seemed a bit more coherent.
'Hi love Sunday morning woken by Charles bearing hot coffee and news
it was just gone ten and Chapel was at eleven and I was in the choir
remember and the Dean and Chaplain would not be pleased. I could hardly
focus and scrabbled around and found Sunday best and shorty gown and
Charles had us all ready as Chaplain led us in. Cant remember much about
rest of day but better this morning off to tutor at ten must rush. Love
Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxx.'
Odd. Where was news of Saturday? All was revealed in the third
message. Much, much longer and explaining all.
'Hi Marky. You must think I'm a twit. Truly all has been a
rush and the twins have been a great help most of the time. Much to tell.
The room is marvellous if a bit sparse at the moment. Think of it you'll
be in the room below next year! Can't wait. I've been to first tutorial
with Dad's friend - he's marvellous, said I reminded him so much of Dad
when he was at Caius. Gave me three judgments to read to write comments on
for next week. I have to read three chapters as well to give background
and attend four lectures. Got to see some History don tomorrow, not P-B
probably the Chaplain, if I want to do joint. That's all a whirl. So's
student life.
Had all these invites to drinks. Asked Dingley Dell on Thursday as
twins nowhere to be seen then realised they were at yours. He said Dean,
Chaplain and Master must be attended, Moral (?) Tutor as well (He's OK,
he's one of Charles's Philosophy tutors). Dingley said bin the rest as
they were either after my soul, my arse, or my money. Charming. Pity he
won't be here next year but you'll be taking his place. He's short, rotund
and has a truly ribald sense of humour. He and Charles had the three new
boys in the choir for more drinks on Thursday evening before Hall.
I had to do the rounds on Friday so by eight o'clock Friday evening I
was as pissed as a newt. I'd joined Debating Club, Law Society, put my
name down for College Rugger and God knows what else, all stands manned by
earnest young men and nubile young ladies, especially rugger stand - hunky
lads too!! (Jealous??).
Thugs arrived and got me into their team on Saturday and I learned new
words to Ball at Inverness and that Llanelli thing. After that all us new
ones were rounded up and we hit the town. I didn't know so many pubs
existed and most have these big blokes on the door and only allow six in at
a time. I kept with the Thuggies until Ivo went off with some bird. Adam
said she was Pussy Galore with emphasis on galore. Couple of nice boaties
in our group but they down the pints in moments and I was up and down like
a whore's drawers, as Ivo said, getting refills most of the time as I was
trying to pace myself. Good job everyone pays their own. As it is if this
continues I'll have to get a job with the local council at Christmas
shovelling snow or shit. Reminds me, everything is on sale here. I was
offered two deals in one pub and a bloke in another when I went to the bog
for a pee was snorting a line in a cubicle. Adam said I had to watch it as
they sometimes slipped a baggie in your pocket and then demanded payment
but I looked big enough to take care of myself. He said there was quite a
bit going on in Coll re drugs and to steer clear.
On a lighter note I did get propositioned three times on Saturday. I
was at the bar in one getting the refills in when some ghastly blonde piece
asked if I wanted to buy a lady a drink. Luckily the barman saw this and
told her to push off. 'You have to watch where you poke your pecker around
here, mate,' he said and gave me an extra half of bitter. The other two
were in the last one we ended up at. I guess it was a test of our stamina
or something as about ten of us were led into this heaving mass of
humanity. The noise was deafening and there were plenty of youngsters with
their shirts off - nicely toned most and I confess there was a stirring -
and a whole bunch of older blokes in leather. MY FIRST GAY BAR - hush - I
couldn't let on though Adam kept nudging me. A rather pretty young thing
twirled round me and made kissy-kissy noises and I did a hand jive thing
with him much to the amusement of the macho lads - he whispered as he
parted that his gaydar was seldom wrong and he was always in on a Saturday
and he was free at the moment. No NO NO. Lie down Fido ;-) (I can't do
those things properly, get Microbe to show you as one of your lessons).
Best was when the others were so pissed and I went for a wander and
one of the leather guys - big bloke, forties I would guess, beard, cropped
hair, asked if I wanted a drink - no strings attached. I nodded and there
was a scotch on the bar immediately. I looked at him and he just grinned.
'My son thinks I'm a twat coming here dressed liked this. You look just
like him - he's a bit older - he's at the Anglia and doing well. Mother
left when she found I liked this gear. He's OK, put's up with Dad and his
funny ways. Anyway, you'd look good in leather, none of this,' he tapped
his rather constrained paunch, 'If you want a bit of fun I've got plenty of
this that'll fit you at home.... Any time....' He grinned '.....Takes
one...' he said and winked. Funny. Is there something about me two of
them spotted or were they just trying me out? Funny. In neither case did
I care.
I liked the first lad, Davy he said his name was, and Brad was the
second one and was a nice guy I could see. I'm a bit confused and I'm
missing you terribly. I've been so busy haven't done anything since being
here. I'll think of you tenderly and lovingly tonight Marky my lovely
Marky.
Give my love to Microbe and tell him not to beat the living daylights
out of his most precious possession - if you dare! Love to all the family
- have done a shorter(!) message to my lot for Microbe to print out but
you can go next door as well with what you think is permissible.
Love me as I love you, Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'
I sniffed as I scrolled down to that last sentence. That message must
have taken ages to type and he wanted me to know everything. I sniffed
again and felt down to my pocket for my hankie. An arm went round my
shoulder. I hadn't realised, I had been concentrating so much, that
Frankie had crept into the room silently.
"It's OK, Marky" he said softly in that husky now rapidly changing
voice, "I haven't read it. Don't be sad."
I scrolled up a bit and pointed. He squinted at the screen and
mouthed in my ear as he read.
"Cheek. Is that all he can write about me!"
"Well, at least he's got you taped."
"Can't help it!" He thumped my shoulder. "Don't forget you were my
age once, old and ancient one."
I swivelled round on his chair before he had a chance to move and
grabbed him. I stood and realised my little brother was chunkier and
heavier and it wouldn't be long before our little tussles wouldn't be so
one-sided.
He started to giggle as I held him with his arms pinioned.
"You miss him as well," I said.
"Yeah, of cause."
I hugged him and he hugged me back. That funny little brother of mine
was hurting as well.
Term went on very speedily. I was so immersed in my school work and
practising hard as I was taking both the ARCO and ARCM examinations before
and after Christmas. Mr Prentice gave me plenty of hints and I spent four
Saturday mornings at the Royal College being intensively tutored as well.
I think I was OK for the written parts of the exams. I went through past
papers and Dad checked over my harmonisations. I also became quite adept
at typing and sent an e-mail daily to Tris. He reciprocated and there were
messages too from the twins. So what with the Maths and the Music, the
school orchestra, being a Prefect and the church, I was a very busy lad.
Tris was enjoying himself which was most evident from his e-mails. He
was getting on well with his Law tutor and with the group of Law students
he had palled up with as he'd decided not to do a joint degree. He said a
couple of the girls had eyed him - Tris was in anyone's estimation a
handsome creature, fair hair, an open honest face and a tall, well-
proportioned physique - but he had only joined in general conversations in
the student bar. He said he liked being in the Chapel choir and the Thugs,
one tenor and one bass, were keeping him in order, not only there, but also
as he had joined the College Rugger Club and had palled up with a second
year boatie - nice but dim, as he put it. He said they went for a run
together most mornings and as the boatie was also reading Law they had
plenty to discuss so were spending quite a bit of time together. No, he
repeated, I'm not attracted though he's got a good body and is well-hung!
:-)=( :---
He was observing all sorts of interactions in the College and seemed
to have rapidly come to the realisation that not all academic relationships
were cordial and harmonious. An e-mail arrived on the third Monday he was
there concerning events the previous day.
'Hi, My Treasure. A big row this morning after the service.
The new organ scholar, Drew Penry-Jones, is Welsh, born again,
happy-clappy, and a Nat Sci. Means he's as opinionated as hell and has so
far alienated Charles and most of the choir. I was asked if I was saved
after the first choir practice and he's told Charles that he wants nothing
to do with him until he renounces his way of life - I guess he thinks he's
gay - and the sooner we can have a group to accompany the singing the
better.
The Chaplain is keeping his cool so Charles informed me but Drew has
an ally in one of the ordinands doing a BPhil. Big lad, did a theology
degree in Wales, and he'll be ordained next year. He's OK, plays in our
rugger team. He's early twenties, hairy isn't in it, looks like a gorilla
and his nuts look like coconuts - not size-wise - just masses of hair.
He's born again too and can't stand our rather High Anglican ways. So,
after the service which Drew had accompanied, he called the choir together
and announced that when he was in charge of the service for any day, the
choir would not be needed as he'd recruited three students playing guitar,
trumpet and drums plus Drew on the piano, who would accompany the
congregation.
I thought Ivo and Adam were going to thump him, even though he's built
like the proverbial brick-built khazi, but the Chaplain gave them a look
and shook his head. The rest of the choir were mutinous and Charles was
flapping around trying to calm them. We shall see.
Miss you terribly. Saw your Professor Tanner on Friday. Asked how
you were!
Babyballs has made himself objectionable again. Told me to shift
myself as I was in his way on the stairs. Not quite in those terms. He
also told Charles he was a fucking fairy. I didn't let on to Charles I'd
heard that But Babyballs is a bit big for me to thump and I don't want to
end up in Addenbrooke's just yet!
Love Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxx'
A week later:
'Hi Most Wonderful. Ivo and Adam have really fallen out.
Ivo thinks Adam is being influenced by Pinch-Bum. P-B has gone to town
over the rift in the Chapel. He's got a motion at the next meeting of the
College Fellows proposing the closure of the Chapel because of internal
tensions which in his knowledge as an historian have never occurred before
even through periods of religious intolerance. Ivo got that from Mrs
Davies the Chaplain's secretary. She's Welsh but can't stand Drew.
Adam is so pissed off with Drew he's more or less siding with P-B and
doesn't seem to see that it's all a ploy. Charles is distraught. He said
that P-B should be cast into the eternal fires of Hell, accompanied by much
hand waving and NYK makes him pots of tea to calm him down.
I think we'll change Jason's name to Nick, except it's Dad's, but
perhaps NYK suits him better. Charles refers to him all the time as
naughty young Knott but Jason couldn't care less. He took all my rugger
kit home for his Mum to wash as someone had fused the supply to the
students' laundry and wouldn't let me pay anything. He likes to chat and
I've told him as well he should do further study.
Oh, I forgot. Confession time. After the game on Saturday the rest
went off to the student bar but I didn't feel like another piss up. Not
used to so much beer. Must be Dad introducing me to wine which I prefer.
Anyway. Confession. I wandered into town and went to that bar Adam
took me to the first Saturday. Felt OK after initial butterflies going in.
That Davy was there. He's doing a nursing course and works at the big
local hospital and I told him about you and me. He said he understood.
He'd got no one at present but wouldn't intrude but was always ready for a
drink, a dance and a chat. Felt a bit over dressed at first but got a good
few stares when I took my shirt off and danced with him. He fended off one
bloke who was a bit drunk and kept asking me for a dance. Then the leather
chap appeared and told the bloke to fuck off and he went off very quickly.
Leatherman asked Davy and me if we'd like a drink and Davy said he knew his
son as he'd been to school with him. Both very nice. Said they hoped I
wouldn't get too miserable without you. But, anytime I needed to talk, or
a quiet drink... Felt safe. Haven't told the others.
With fondest love, Tris XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (Big in case you don't
approve.) p.s. Tell Microbe I look forward to seeing him half-term - and
you too, of course. More XXXXXXXXXXXXX'
If he was feeling lonely - how was I?
The next week:
'Hi Treasure above the price of rubies. That was part of
reading yesterday in Chapel. Luckily Dingley was accompanying and all the
choir were there. Ivo and Adam still not really speaking to each other.
NYK told me in confidence that the curtain between their beds is pulled
across the room permanently. What can we do? Charles is so concerned.
However, two good things.
Drew is visiting all the students and exhorting them to give their
hearts to the Lord and pressing various tracts on them. Most of these seem
to predict Hell fires for all sorts of trivial sins. There's a real beauty
on the evils of masturbation which everyone seems to get. Two of the
rugger blokes caught him the other day just after he'd been to see someone
on another stair. I heard they'd got their dicks out and asked him to show
them what masturbation was so they would know if it was the same as what
they did four times a day as they couldn't bear to be sinners.
Then he went to see Babyballs the next day. I don't think anyone had
warned him. Ivo said he was standing just inside their door when he heard
Drew coming up the stairs. He knocked on Babyballs' door and when he
answered asked him if he was saved and so on and said if he felt he had
sinned he should get down on his knees and ask the Lord's forgiveness.
He must have given Bryce the wanking tract and Ivo heard him say that
in his experience this was a grave sin which all boys indulged in until the
Lord entered their hearts and Bryce should confess his sins as soon as
possible because one never knew when they might be called to judgement.
Ivo said he heard a scuffle plus a torrent of oaths and Drew ended up on
his back in the passage with a snowstorm of tracts, masturbatory, whatever,
around him and in a very dazed state. Ivo said that he turned his other
cheek and shut the door as quietly as possible.
So far, I haven't had a visit although he looked as if he was going to
talk to me after the service on Sunday. He wasn't playing and we did a
Tallis anthem and he looked sour the whole way through. If he does come
I'll tell him straight, I'm gay and I wank at least three times a day and I
lust after his lithe young body. Point one is true, point two is only if I
feel very, very horny thinking of you, twice usually and I do think of you
both times! and point three is completely untrue, he's a skinny little
runt! I almost typed the C word but I hope Microbe has put a ban on such
things in case they corrupt you!!
The other good news is that P-B is nursing very sore balls. There was
a dance in the Students' Union on Friday and P-B invited himself and asked
a friend of Charles's for a dance. She's the friend of the Stage Manager
Ivo told us about. Her name's Alexandra and she's very nice in a no
nonsense way. Anyway, she's not into men and P-B started to make certain
suggestions and he invited her to go to his house for a drink. He must
have thought he was on to a good thing except he went a bit too far and
while they were dancing either said or did something. Last thing he knew
was that he was carted off to Addenbrooke's and Adam said he cancelled his
tutorials this morning. Ivo and Adam were there and heard he'd been
injured..
I know about his balls cause it's confession time again. I went to
the club again on Saturday evening and Davy said he'd been on duty at the
hospital all night and was knackered but he found the club woke him up. I
think Davy had had a few drinks before I got there as he got all
confidential and said he really shouldn't tell me but he'd been on duty
when this man - must have been P-B - had been brought in swearing and
shouting because some bird had clocked him between the legs. She had too,
Davy said, as his knackers were all bruised and swollen. Davy laughed as
he said it was the first time he'd ever held anyone's tool without them
getting a hard-on. Must be losing his grip!
This set him off again and he told me several stories - some about
blokes coming in with something stuck up their backsides saying they'd
slipped in the shower.
Ouch, he's had to help remove a hairbrush handle, he said the surgeon
didn't dare ask if the hairbrush bit was still at home, a big carrot and
what looked like the first eight inches of a policeman's truncheon. All
rather odd things to have in the shower, he said. The best was a deodorant
stick which had 'Press up bottom' on its base and the bloke had taken it
literally!
We had a good giggle and then went looking for the leatherman. He was
with a couple of younger blokes, all muscles and more leather and looked as
if they were oiled - not drunk oiled! Good blokes. Told me to cheer up
and I was to bring you in as soon as possible. Thought of half term but
you'll have the two Microbes with you and although both would be more than
willing to snoop I'm sure they're underage!
With all my love - can't wait to see you. Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'
Half-term came quite suddenly as far as I was concerned. Microbe 1
and I went up to Waterloo to collect Microbe 2 on the Friday afternoon and,
my, he was into his growth spurt with a vengeance. He dwarfed Microbe 1
now, more of a large Bug, and Microbe 1 was miffed. I have no idea of the
cavorting which may have taken place that night but the pair were up eating
breakfast long before I appeared. I was chivvied as they wanted to be off
so we were at St Mark's in Cambridge soon after ten o'clock. Old Albert
was in the Porter's Lodge. He took one look at me and his gnarled face
creased even further. I think it was a smile.
"Good morning Mr Foster, I am pleased to see you." He peered at
Frankie. "You must be Mr Francis Foster, the family likeness is there, the
set of the eyes and the nose..."
".....and the big ears," said Laurent, stepping forward. "Good
morning, Mr Tomkins, I am Laurent de Villiers," He put out a hand. "I am
very pleased to meet you. I intend to study here when I am older."
"And if I am still here I shall remember you, young man," said Old
Albert courteously but, I thought, rather put out by the added reference.
He looked intently at Francis. "Yes," he said, "You are so like your
father. He came here in 1972. It was our sexcentennial year and we had
plenty of celebrations." He nodded. "Yes, he must have been about your
age. He gave a recital in the Chapel. Very well received. I looked it up
last night when Mr Price- Williams said you were coming today. There were
three boys, all sons of Old Markians. Let me see, Gordon Foster, violin,
Peter Hazelhurst, clarinet, and Gregory Fawcett, piano. The other two were
older and I didn't know their fathers but your grandfather went back to
Paris and was killed very shortly after I'm sorry to say."
That was most interesting. Dad had never said he'd visited the
College! I knew Grandad had been knocked over as he crossed the road in
Paris by a speeding taxi driver but I hadn't known the year. So, Dad
couldn't have been more than fourteen when his father died. Perhaps that
had made him forget St Mark's? I would have to ask Mum if she knew
anything, or, perhaps Grandma who was coming to visit us for Christmas.
I could see that Frankie was also rather stunned by this news. Any
instant reprisals on Laurent were forgotten for the moment. "Thank you for
telling me that," Frankie said most politely, "I, too, want to come here to
study. I don't know what yet, but I'm determined to work hard."
Old Albert's face creased again. He looked past us. "Ah, here's Mr
Price-Williams and Mr Fane-Stuart. I'll say good-day to you."
Charles entered first followed by a grinning Tristan. He was in full
spate, hands raised, hair streaming, his short gown billowing. "Precious
ones, you've arrived. Sorry we are late but we were just about to take
coffee when that boy told us you had been sighted." Charles thrust a hand
out and I shook it and was nearly crushed by the weight of the rings. He
let go and turned. "And you must be Francis, the fraternal likeness is
quite apparent. I am so pleased you could come today, we have much to show
you." Another handshake for the first of two very startled lads confronted
by this very elegantly dressed young man with the flowing mane of silvery
hair and the ornamented robe and mannerisms, I was sure, neither had
experienced before. "And you are Laurent, je suis enchante de vous voir.
Vous demeurez a Lille, je crois. C'est une cite je connais bien.
Bienvenue!" Another crushing handshake. "Now, dearest ones, there is
coffee and some slight sustenance across the quad in my rooms. Let us go
and the other treasures will join us shortly. Dear Adam has had an extra
tutorial this morning as his tutor..." I noted no name! "...has been
somewhat hors de combat since his unwise incursion into some student
frolics." He turned to Tristan who was standing silently watching and
listening. "Tristan my dear, I will take the young ones and you follow
with Mark."
The 'young ones' gave Tristan a hasty wave as they dashed after the
hurrying figure. Tristan almost gave me a welcoming kiss but propriety
restrained him. We just looked at each other and smiled our greetings.
"Come on," he said, "We'd better get there or those two will eat
everything. By the way, I've booked a table for eight for twelve fifteen
at a very nice restaurant in Bridge Street. I've also had a nice cheque
from Dad this week so it's my treat. Oh, I've asked Charles and also
Dingley Dell, they're the other two." He laughed. "Charles can mesmerise
the infants and as you'll be taking over from Dingley I thought you'd like
to meet him. He's great!"
"What's his proper first name. I can't very well call him Dingley
from the start."
Tris laughed. "Everyone calls him that, but he's David, really.
You'll like him, but promise you won't just talk organs!"
"There's only one organ......"
"......Enough of that. Later. We'll send the urchins shopping.
There's a couple of games shops they'll like. Keep them occupied, while
we...."
"And what about Ivo and Adam? Any change?"
Tris's whole bouncy demeanour changed. He became very serious. "I'm
very worried about them," he said, "They barely talk to each other though
they still always go about together. They often use me to give messages to
the other and I think it's probably only you who will make them see sense.
They're playing this afternoon that's why I've arranged an early lunch.
Think of it, twins, playing on either side of the same scrum and just about
scratching each other's eyes out when they get worked up about you know who
and the Chapel."
"I'll try, but I don't know what to say."
"You will."
We found the infants sitting demurely while being handed mugs of
aromatic coffee by naughty young Knott with Charles telling them all about
the room and it's even more over the top decor. The two rather elegant
windows now had ruched and tasselled heavy brocade curtains and the dining
chairs had been recovered in a similar patterned, very rich-looking fabric.
There was an oil painting of a very beautiful young lady prominently
displayed. Oh, NO! Had the boys asked yet who it was? It was so
obviously Clarissa!
Ouch! As we sat, with Charles fussing and Jason handing us mugs with
his handsome smile, so Frankie opened his mouth. "Is that your sister? Mr
Stuart?"
Charles was ready. "No, my dear, it's a mere chimera, a whimsy
conjured from the fertile imagination of a very good friend of my Mother.
He is a superb artist but has these flights of fancy. Mother gave it to me
as a birthday present so I hang it there in remembrance of time passing."
I wondered how much of those sentences Francis had grasped and whether
Laurent had sorted out what some of the words meant.
Laurent was not fooled. "It is like those pictures you have in
there..," He pointed to the door leading to the toilet. "..I would say
they were of you. You act?"
Charles laughed. His cover was blown. "Vous etes dans le vrai,
Laurent. Mais, vous garderez mon secret, s'il vous plait." His hands went
to his lips. Laurent smiled and nodded
Francis had been following this exchange with great interest. "Where
do you act?"
A finger went to the side of his nose. "My little offerings are
displayed here at the theatre when we have a Footlights Revue. But few
know from where La Belle Dame Clarissa springs, be-jewelled, be-decked
and...," Here the hands were raised palms outwards and the head, with
half-closed eyes was turned to the right and to the left. "....and, so
ravishingly beautiful though I say it myself."
I realised he was leading the lads on, but they were enjoying every
moment.
"Can I come and see your act?" asked Frankie with real eagerness.
There was a twinkling smile as Charles raised one finger and pointed
it at him.
"Most certainly you may, but I think you would have to be a little
older.." He raised his hands again, closer together and at an angle.
"...And I may not be here much longer. It is my final year and I have yet
to consult the Fates about my future. Maybe..."
The last word was left hanging. Before Frankie could ask more there
was a thump on the outer door. Jason went to open it and in came Ivo,
followed by a short rotund figure with Adam taking up the rear. My
cousins' greetings were somewhat muted. Perhaps they didn't want to
display undue emotion but I sensed there was an underlying problem - that
which Tris had told me. Luckily Dingley took over and the conversation was
turned to asking the boys all about themselves. Then he took them with Adam
across the passage-way to show them the rooms I would have if I was
installed next year as his successor.
I helped Jason carry something to the kitchen and was followed in by
Ivo. Jason went back into the main room. The bull by the horns!! Now or
never!!!
"And when is this silliness between you and Adam going to stop?" I
asked, "You're worrying all your friends and from what I've been told it's
really over stupid things this new student is doing which sound no more
than trivial in a place like this."
"Tris has told you?"
I nodded. He really did look morose. He shook his head.
"We've never been like this ever since we realised we were two people
as little kids. We fight and argue but this is going on too long. It's
not really trivial to some people - like Charles for instance. He sees all
this as a way of destroying centuries of tradition. I know I got a bit
shirty over the bike but that's trivial. But this spat going on is not. I
want it to stop. I want to be able to thump my brother, kick his backside,
squeeze those little balls of his, tell him he's a silly bugger and he do
the same to me. Fuck it, I nearly got sent off last week because I was
feeling so frustrated with the whole damn business I battered some poor sod
in the other team. I feel lost, Marky. I need help. We both need help."
I gave him a great hug. My much older and, I thought, wiser cousin
was almost distraught. His beloved brother and he were eating away at
their so deep friendship. How could I help?
We went back and waited for the others to return. Frankie was
grinning like mad. "Four-poster bed! Wait till I tell Mum!" But I think
the pair of them were impressed.
Adam then started telling an entranced pair of boys about Clarissa's
last performance as Elizabeth the First, who from the sound of it proved
not to be so virginal, with three big husky boaties as her half-naked
boatmen and two well-muscled rugger types - with over-large cod-pieces from
the general descriptions being given - as Sir Walter Raleigh with a
strangely shaped pipe for his tobacco, and Edward de Vere, the farting Earl
of Oxford.
Charles was trying to shush him every time he made what could have been
construed as a salacious remark. In the end Charles was persuaded to get
the photograph of the whole cast to show us. Wow! The pearl-encrusted
headdress and the flowing gown must have cost a bomb. But what I feasted
my eyes on and, would no doubt recall at prime moments, were the five
escorts who displayed their manly attributes to the full. The two
courtiers were in tight doublets, puffed pantaloons, hose and curly-toed
shoes. Yes, the cod-pieces were immense! The boatmen were in ragged
shirts and knee length very ragged trews. Nothing there was left too much
to the imagination as well-filled jockstraps were much in evidence.
I just wondered if they had been invented before 1570 or so.
"Boys, boys, let us stop now," Charles was getting agitated as coming
back from his bedroom where he had returned the photograph he must have
heard Adam saying something about the size of Walter's pipe and the
loudness of Edward's fart which set both lads off in asbestos gelos -
inextinguishable laughter. "I think we should move towards further
nourishment. I understand the inestimable Tristan has secured a table for
us at a most favoured restaurant. Jason, cherished one, lock up and take
that delicious pate Mother sent in that last parcel to your own dear
mother. As a sop to Cerberus you had better give the other package to
Albert. I would not like him to think that there is any favouritism."
The boys were on either side of Charles as we went across the quad to
the College gate. Francis then commandeered Dingley while Charles chatted
to Laurent in French. Tris had realised I wanted to talk to Adam so he and
Ivo were soon in conversation about some arcane rule of rugby football. I
lagged behind with Adam and decided a full-frontal attack was needed.
"I understand you're being a bloody fool. I know you act it sometimes
but this has been going on too long!"
Without looking at me he said very quietly, "I know I am but what can
I do. Ivo will only laugh if I say anything. It can't go on... ..I feel
wretched. It's all over nothing. I think we're just getting worked up
because it's our second year and there's so much to do... You'll help
won't you?"
I don't know what induced me to say it but I couldn't bear to see my
lovely and loving cousins so upset. "I'll tell you what. I bet after the
match this afternoon you'll go to quite different showers or opposite ends
of the bath. When you get out, go straight up to him dripping wet, give
him a hug and just say 'I'm sorry'. If you don't have a hard-on each after
that my plan hasn't worked."
He looked up at me with a sly grin and nodded.
Lunch was a hoot. We had plenty to eat and Charles insisted on
stumping up for wine for the grown-ups which caused sneers from the infants
who were then allowed a half-glass each as well as enormous glasses of
Coca-Cola. I saw that Charles would have two willing acolytes for any
future extravaganza, probably based on Lucretia Borgia and the young
'nephews' of the Pope, who were most probably given to Michelangelo for
painting the Sistine Chapel, and would appear unclothed as pubescent putti
ready for depiction on high! Stories of College abounded but I noted that
the twins sat well apart and made their excuses at about ten to two as they
had to get to Jesus where the match was being played. As Adam bent down to
pick up his sports bag which was near my feet I whispered, 'Good luck!'. He
nodded and grinned.
We sent the boys off with a map to explore the city. Strict
instructions to be back by half past four as Charles was supplying tea. We
four strolled back to St Mark's and I went with Tris to his rooms. We were
in each other's arms, naked in bed, within minutes. All the kept dormant
desires of the past few weeks burst out. We clasped each other, we
couldn't get enough of feeling and manipulating each other's bodies. Tris
was just as I remembered him. I felt him all over from head to toe not
only with probing and exploring hands but with my tongue and nose, licking
and tasting and smelling and storing all those sensations for later
reconstructions. Tris was doing the same, he fixed on one nipple than the
other, my navel was probed with a wet, prehensile tongue, then at last
after savouring all parts of each other's bodies we found each other's
sheathed and rampant shafts. In concert those so-sensitive solid ends were
uncovered as foreskins were enveloped in hungry mouths.
I couldn't contain myself, my reflexes took off and Tris swallowed my
load greedily and within a minute or so I was fed my lover and companion's
own copious boycream. We kissed and then lay quietly together gathering
our not very depleted strength until with gently duelling tongues our hands
drew a second spurting creamy flow. We ran our fingers through the pools
and rubbed the now sticky fluid into each other's bellies and into our
bushes of pubic hair. We lay in each other's arms wishing these moments to
continue for ever. We heard a few shouts from outside which woke us from
our reveries as we realised a world existed elsewhere. It was just after
four when we surfaced.
We had to shower separately as the compartment was small. I waited
for Tris to wash the to-be-remembered dried residues of our love away. As
he stepped from the shower I knelt and took the length of his now quiescent
tool into my mouth, then covered it with kisses. After my shower he
returned my action. 'Until Christmas' he whispered as he stood.
Dressed we went downstairs to Charles' set where the gas-fire was
turned up full and the over-decorated main room was more than pleasantly
warm. Charles and Dingley were comparing notes as both would be taking
Finals later in the academic year. Dingley was also reading Philosophy and
was hoping to enter the Civil Service. Like me, he saw music as an
all-abiding hobby and had already lined up a post at a fashionable church
in North London. Charles said he was undecided. Mother had a job for him
but what would happen when she retired or gave up the business? As he
waved his hands around in consternation I noticed he had on a very ornate
signet ring. I thought it seemed familiar. Perhaps he had been wearing it
last time and I'd forgotten.
"That's a beautiful ring," I said.
He stuck out his left hand as it was prominently displayed on his ring
finger. The other rings seemed tawdry against it. "I was rooting in one
of Mother's jewel-boxes during the summer vac for something new to wear and
I found it there. This one as well." He put out his right hand and
indicated another, not so ornate, but beautifully chased with a Greek style
pattern. "Mother won't miss them. She has worn this one but I have never
seen her wear the signet ring."
So, I hadn't seen it on him? The thought niggled me. Where had I
seen a similar one? It looked like a big cat, a leopard or a cheetah
engraved in the centre. Possibly in a tray of knick-knacks in a charity
shop? But, no, it seemed too valuable for that.
Just then a double thump on the door. Laurent and Francis came in
followed by Jason with a cardboard box.
"I found these young gentlemen as I was returning from Fitzbillies
loitering at the gate uncertain whether to enter. They had been handed
leaflets by Mr Penry-Jones there who has been haranguing passers-by on
Market Hill this afternoon. He was most insistent they should not succumb
to evil ways. He was about to turn them away saying that the College had
enough thieves and vagabonds without youngsters thinking they could break
in and burgle. I told him they were visitors and he just turned and walked
off. Mr Tomkins is of the opinion he should seek advice."
"He must be mad," opined Frankie, "Have you seen this." This was a
gaudy, badly- printed tract exhorting sinners, in large letters, to abandon
their evil practices, unspecified, so they might be ready for the coming of
the Lord. "Look at this on the other side," he said reading out, "'Young
men, resolve not to commit those acts which weaken the body and engender
evil thoughts. Maidens, put away thoughts which risk your holy role in
life. Guard yourselves with care against those who importune you with
unwholesome flattery.' What does it all mean?"
I am afraid Laurent proved to be a little too literal. "It says boys
should not wank and girls not to fuck about. That is what our priests say,
too! Fucking rubbish!"
We all gaped at Laurent. Faultless English and faultless logic.
Charles was the master of the moment. "Well said, Laurent sweet, you
are both concise and correct. Vous avez mis le doigt dessus! That tract
should be consigned to those flames to which its perpetrators should also
be condemned." He took the pamphlet from Frankie, screwed it up
contemptuously and flicked it accurately into the centre of the flames
leaping up above the imitation coals of the gas-fire. "So I commit these
pernicious words to the cleansing flame! Now, Jason my treasure, set out
your wares and when the handsome pair appear we shall take tea."
Jason disappeared into the kitchen closely followed by Frankie and
Laurent intent on helping. The incident with the tract forgotten with the
thought of more food. The rest of us just sat and heaved with silent
laughter only to be interrupted by a further bang on the outer door and
two, almost tussling, laughing figures pushed their way in. Adam was
sporting a rather large piece of sticking plaster across his nose and there
was evidence on his upper lip of dried blood.
"Always said the silly fool sticks his nose in where its not wanted,"
said Ivo pointing at the wounded warrior.
"I'll stick something else where its not wanted, too!" said Adam.
"And who fumbled that ball out of the scrum and missed a bloody straight
run? - twenty little metres and you'd have been there! Cretin!"
"Up yours, Boo-Boo! You weren't exactly twinkle-toes when you tried
that other run. That was a disaster. You practically ran headfirst into
that dopey great oaf they had as a full- back. Thought you were going to
give him a goodnight cuddle. No wonder he back-handed you right on the
snout!"
I sat and listened more than content. My cousins were back.
After tea when Jason had gone off to unspecified duties I helped Adam
carry dirty plates into the kitchen. As soon as we set them down he
grabbed me and kissed me full on the lips. We hugged holding each other
tight. "You've still got a bloody erection," I said in his ear. "Too true
and I wouldn't mind if you took care of it! Only joking! I guess you and
Tris have...." He left the words unsaid as I reached down and felt his hard
length. "Ivo'll be ready, too." I said quietly, "Show him you love him so
deep down that nothing could ever destroy it. OK." He nodded.
As we left to go out to the Backs to get the taxi waiting for us Ivo
came up and hugged me. "Thanks, cuz, all's healed. Just got one more
piece of business to take care of tonight." He pressed himself against me.
His aroused state was oh, so evident, too. I don't think either would last
long on any initial encounter. I bet the second and third would be even
more intense and even more rewarding. That curtain would be furled back in
its rightful place.
The boys were tired and sleepy as we travelled back to London and I
sat and contemplated a day filled with happiness, of healing, of the
continuation of commitment and to new things to ponder and think about.
How would I ask Dad about Grandad and his recital? That ring of Charles's
niggled. That zealous student and the way he was stirring up trouble. My
brother and his most intelligent friend.
There was just one more thing. When we arrived home and were about to
recount the happenings of the day to Mum, while waiting for Dad to come
home, the pair took off their tops and instead of the expected bare skin
they had matching, identically printed tee-shirts on emblazoned in large
letters 'Winner of the Egg and Sperm Race'.
"There's a shop near Magdalene Bridge prints them for you," explained
Frankie.
"Cool!" said Laurent.
To be Continued: