Date: Thu, 09 Nov 2006 22:58:03 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: 13

		      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
Brinley (Harry) Potter                        An unbright boatie and worried
David (Dingley) Dell               The Augustus Pennefather organ scholar
Oct '98-Jul '01
Matthew  Thyssen              Another organ scholar ['99-'02] studying
English
Drew Penry-Jones                 A born again organ scholar  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 with a guilty secret
'Tory (Victoria) Machin    A good friend of Ivo's and a true bluestocking
Letitia (Titty) Fanshaw    Adam's 'squeeze'
Bernard Fanshaw                       Letitia's boatie brother and liable to
squeeze
Hon Jeremy (Tosspot) Foskett    A supercilious dilettante student who sniffs
a lot
Bradley Wolstencroft          A Detective Chief Inspector, a leatherman off
duty [Brad]
Dudley Woolpit            A Detective Sergeant, a leatherman off duty
[Whippet; Dude]
Carl Bachmann            A Detective Constable, a leatherman off duty
[Carlo; Batman]
Aubrey Fullerton QC                    A celebrity Law don

[Some Notes:          Acronyms:
ARCM     Associate of the Royal College of Music
LRAM      Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music
ARCO      Associate of the Royal College of Organists
These three are performer's or teaching diplomas.  The first two can be
taken in a very wide
range of instruments or in composition.
FRCO       Fellow of the Royal College of Organists  - equivalent to a
Bachelor of Music
degree.
FRCS       Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons.  In the UK the great
majority of medical
practitioners hold Bachelors degrees in Medicine and Surgery and enjoy the
courtesy of the
title 'Doctor'.  Those who wish to specialise in surgery then study for the
Royal College of
Surgeons examinations of London or Edinburgh, and when awarded enjoy the
title of
'Mister'.  This refers back to the time when medical practitioners generally
held degrees in
Medicine from the few universities extant in the UK in the 17th and 18th
centuries whereas
surgeons followed apprenticeships and were classed with barbers who
performed such acts as
bloodletting.  Hence the red and white striped barber's pole.]

                         13.  Through the rest of the year

     I had puzzled how I might raise the issue of why Dad had never said
he'd been to St Mark's let alone given a recital there.  This was solved
for me next morning at breakfast.

     We three boys had gone off to bed before Dad got home last night.  In
fact, I'd just had a slow, intensive wank thinking of Tris and my cousins
and was lying in that contemplative, drowsy state, with a pool of spunk on
my chest being idly stirred before being mopped up, when I heard his car
enter the drive.  I wiped myself with a couple of my own tissues and fell
immediately into a contented sleep.  We'd had a most profitable day, the
boys had been introduced to a new way of life, I had met and loved my
dearest friend and, very importantly, wounds had been healed.

     I had promised Mr Prentice I would play for the 11.00 Mass - Father
Robertson always insisted on calling it this though on the church board it
was up as the Family Service - and had crept out of bed about nine.  I
could hear voices downstairs and realised that not only was Dad up and
about but Francis and Laurent were in the kitchen as well.  Of course,
food!  And Francis would also be getting ready as he was in the choir.

     As I entered I saw Dad was busy preparing a tray for Mum.  A little
Sunday ritual.  Mum liked breakfast in bed then.  He gave me a thumb's up
in response to my greeting and hurried off.  The boys were too busy
chattering on to notice me until I wrenched the packet of Cocoa Pops out of
the Toad's grasp.

     "Do you not have the courtesy to greet your loving brother," I said,
pouring a good helping into a bowl.  "I give up a day of my life to
entertain you and I'm ignored."

     "You are not ignored," said the Toad.  "We were just discussing
whether to give you your present now or later."

     "I think now," said the Crapaud.

     They immediately transformed into my little brother and his now bigger
friend.  A present, eh?

     Laurent indicated a small cubic box.  "It is for you.  We saw it in
the music shop and Ivo had given us some money to spend and so had Mr
Stuart."

     I didn't know about the extra money.  I'd passed over a five-pound
note each on the station when we arrived and were waiting in line for a
taxi.

     "Open it, then!" said Francis.

     It was a small white bust of Bach.  I had seen these before in a big
music shop in London and had said to myself I would like one.

     "It is for your... manteau de cheminee..  I do not know."  He looked
at Francis.  "C'est au-dessus du feu dans la cheminee?"

     Francis grinned.  "I think it's a mantelpiece.  It's where Mum has
those vases in the front-room."

     I was touched.  "Thank you, " I said, "I'll put it on the mantelpiece
in the main room and look at it when I play that piano."  I reached over
and touched them both on their hands.

     Dad came in just as this little ceremony finished.  He picked Bach up
and inspected him.  "I had Beethoven.  Someone gave me him after I gave a
recital somewhere when I was a kid.  I think your Grandma has it."

     "Was it when you gave that recital at St Mark's?"  Francis asked.

     I thought Dad was going to drop the bust.  He sat down heavily on a
kitchen chair and shook his head.  "I wanted to forget that but I've been
reminded of it so often in the last year or so with the twins and Tristan
going there and now Mark.  I think if I tell you it'll clear some bad
memories for me."  He looked at us and I could see how sad he was.  "I was
only fourteen - just like you Francis - I was little, opinionated and
thought I was the new Yehudi!  I was at school over here staying with
Grandma's sister but I'd been over to Paris for the Easter holiday and had
some wonderful lessons with a French violinist and your Grandad was so
pleased.  The recital was scheduled for the second week of term.  There
were three of us.  There was a clarinettist, but there was also Gregory
Fawcett, who I knew from our Saturdays at the Royal College."  He shook his
head.  "He was my accompanist.  He was a marvellous player and he and I
played the Franck Sonata.  At fourteen that was so ambitious but I was
determined to do well.  I think I did.  At the end everyone congratulated
us and your Grandad was so pleased.

     "I went back home and he went back to Paris.  I never saw him again.
He was knocked over and killed just two weeks later.  Then Gregory
committed suicide the next week.  Some foolish person had told him he'd
never become a concert pianist.
  He was only eighteen.  I was devastated.  I said I never wanted to play
again but your Grandma took me back to Paris after the funeral and I played
the Franck at the Embassy in memory of my father and Gregory and I had more
lessons and I decided to play again.  I'm afraid the memory of seeing my
father for the last time smiling up at me in the chapel at St Mark's made
me obliterate that occasion and I never wanted to hear of, or see, that
place again."

     I looked at Francis.  The tears were running down his cheeks.  He got
up and went round and hugged Dad.  "I shouldn't have asked you that
question," he murmured.

     "Yes, you should," Dad said.  "The Thugs are happy there and so is
Tristan.  And your brother will be there soon.  I was your age, Frankie,
when all that happened and I couldn't cope.  It was only because the
teacher in Paris encouraged me I said I would play again.  And I made the
decision I wouldn't be a soloist myself, nobody told me.  I love playing.
There's nothing else I would want to do and I have really enjoyed my life
in orchestras and, especially, when I've done some teaching."  He ruffled
Frankie's rather spiked-up hair.  "You've got a couple of years before you
have to make decisions.  Make sure you think hard."

     "Uncle Gordon," said Laurent, coming round the table to stand by Dad,
"Francis would like to go to St Mark's and I will too when I have finished
my university study in Lille."

     "Early decisions.  Well it'll keep you working hard."

     It was my turn.  "Thanks, Dad, for telling us all that.  If Mr Tomkins
hadn't said about the recital we would have never known.  He said he
remembered you very well and that Francis was so like you..."

     "..Those ears," said Laurent with an impish grin.

     I would have to inform Crapaud of the theory that big ears and big
feet meant bigness elsewhere.  As Laurent had sweet little ears and I
hadn't inspected his now growing equipment I had no idea of his size but I
was sure that Frankie would deal with him appropriately and, although
Laurent was now taller than him, I hoped he exceeded him in that most vital
dimension!

     "I promise I'll come up the day you go.  It'll exorcise any ghosts
that remain!  And I want to hear you play there, too." Dad said and he
grinned.  "Now I need my breakfast.  Frankie, a lightly boiled egg.
Laurent, some toast, please."

     The two jumped up and set to with alacrity.  I finished my cereal,
picked up Bach and went up to get ready for church.

     So, one mystery was solved.  Dad had only now really come to terms
with those awful memories, losing his father and a friend in so short a
space of time.  I wondered what I would have done.


     Term went on.  Tris's e-mails were arriving almost daily.  Little
snippets of news.  Early on one had some quite momentous news.

               'Hi Thinking of you constantly.  It's happened at last.
I've been door- stepped by Drew the pest.  I think he must have got over
his fear of Babyballs as a couple of mornings ago he banged on my door and
with his unctuous smile asked if I loved the Lord.  I had a great urge to
say something facetious but he was off ranting before I could think up
anything.  It was all about how he had conquered evil thoughts and deeds
but had to guard against them at all times and the only way... etc., etc.
I hadn't asked him in so all this was taking place in the passage and I was
hoping Bryce might appear and do a tumble-down- Drew act again.  When he
drew breath and fished out a tract I said as slowly and deliberately as
possible that I was gay, I had sex as regularly as possible with my
boyfriend and I had no intention of changing my life-style as I was sure I
had been born like that.
  I don't think he believed me at first so I said it was OK, I didn't fancy
having sex with him even if he offered, and shut the door.  As he doesn't
have anything to do with the choir now I have seen very little of him in
chapel and he avoids me otherwise.  Thugs laughed when I told them.  They
have still to be visited but as their room is opposite Bryce's they think
he'll give them a miss.  I think they've cooked up a tale as well in case
he calls.  Must rush, gotta do an essay on evidence.  Love Tris XXXXXXXX.'

     This was followed a few days later.

               'Hi, No salutation as I haven't got long and I must tell you
this.  I think the boatie - Brinley's his name but everyone calls him Harry
because his surname's Potter - I've been going running with is on
something.  He's worried anyway as he's got Finals this year and he knows
he's not very bright, but he's often either on a high or quite dopey.
Anyway, this morning I ran round to his stair and his door was open.  I
knocked but no reply so I went in and he's lying on the floor in the main
room, starkers.  I tried to wake him and thought I'd better get him into
his bedroom.  He was a dead weight, he must weigh at least fourteen stone,
so I tried heaving.  I was getting a bit hot so I took my top off so I was
there just in running shorts trying to get the big lug up with his nose
buried in my crotch when who should go past the door but Drew.  I
remembered he lived on that stair.  He took one look and I suppose all he
could see was Brin's big naked arse with him apparently sucking me off.
Heaven forbid!  No, I bet he'd be good - he's got big fleshy lips - bet
that set you off!!!!!  Drew yelled out something like Abominations!  And
clattered off down the stairs.  I got Brin sitting up and he came to a bit.
Then I saw there was a bottle of pills on the floor.  Some sort of sleeping
pill I think and there was also some white powder on a mirror on his chest
of drawers.  He said he'd be OK his friend Jeremy would be around later so
I picked up my top and said I'd see him tomorrow.  I think I'll consult the
twins.  With permanent love - and something else permanent.  Tris
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     His next e-mail said he'd given up running with Brinley and on the
twins' advice had cooled the relationship They said if he was snorting or
doing any other drug he might be thought to be involved if anything
happened.  They'd told him Jeremy was a well-known ne'er-do-well who'd
flunked every exam but was still around as the fees came in nevertheless.
But, I knew Tris was worried about Brinley because he had a kind heart.

     His more or less last bit of news was that Clarissa had appeared as
Marie Antoinette in the pre-Christmas show and he'd been roped in as chef
de guillotine.  >From the bits he told me the poor woman was convinced the
guillotine was only for men and really for a delicate operation.  She
couldn't make out why it was so big and had such a big chopper as Louis
only had a small chopper of the other kind and had never been guillotined
as a baby, etc., etc.  He said a row of rugger-buggers were arrayed as the
sans-culottes and never had such a gathering of ugly-looking tricoteuses
been seen.  A good time was had by all!

     Tris came home for the Christmas vac followed shortly after by the
Thugs, complete with motorbike, for their usual overnight stay.  They were
battling over a new problem now.  Both had been after the same girl earlier
in the term, but Ivo was winning.  His usual, 'Tory, was spending most
weekends in London so he was feeling a need for further sexual release
according to Adam. Adam said her name was Vinny, short for Vindaloo as she
was hot stuff.  Ivo said her name was Vanda and Adam was only jealous and
had to make do with pounding his pud every night.

     "Fucking hell!" was Adam's response as they told me all this in the
privacy of my room, "He may be getting it regular but that doesn't stop him
shaking the foundations every night he's not trying to impress her with
that four inch chipolata of his!"

     "Huh, what have you been measuring?  Your own weenie wienie?  Mine's
seven as you well know.  Isn't it, Marky?"

     I held up my hands with the index fingers about three inches apart.
As Ivo went to thump me I managed to say, "I think Adam's giving you the
benefit of the doubt!"

     "Fucking shut up, you!  Just because you're six feet of horse-piss
with a pizzle to match doesn't mean you can join in without a written
invitation."

     "Don't talk to the boy like that," said Adam, "He'll be getting more
than you, other than your right hand, during the vac.  I think Tris has
been saving it up for you, Marky, and last time I saw him in the showers
you won't be complaining."  He grinned.  "Wow, one hung bunny!  And that's
both of you!  Fucking Hell!  Ivo's got nowt compared with the pair of you."

     As both of them were also healthily endowed I knew all this was part
of their on- going battle.  I waited for the next skirmish.

     "Stop getting the lad excited and tell him about Titty!  No, I'll tell
him," said Ivo, fending off Adam who was trying to clap a hand across his
mouth.  "Behave yourself, you've had your say.  It's my turn."  He held
Adam's hand away and twisted his head towards me.  "He was getting all
worked up cause I happened to be the better looking one and Vanda's Swedish
and likes big dark boys with equipment to match, so I was well away.
  He started chatting up this skinny piece - you know, mousey hair,
pigtail, buck teeth -...." The hand came perilously close but he avoided
it.  "...Anyway, he must have told her he'd got a dick like a donkey and a
Porsche in the garage so they went off back to her flat.
  Poor sod, got nowhere, she remembered her Gran's a Catholic and had made
her promise not to bed a man until the knot was tied, so there was Muppet
here all ready and willing, hard-on up to his bottom pubic hair, and then
her flat-mate turned up.  It was her big brother, who's a boatie, so he
made his excuses and scarpered!  True!!"

     The last as Adam grabbed him and pushed him over my bed and they
started the usual wrestle.  "Not true!" panted out Adam as he held a
struggling Ivo now on the floor.  "She's not Catholic and I'm taking her to
the New Year Ball when we get back."

     "The only balls you'll see are Bernie's when he holds you down and
makes you kiss his in penance for the rude suggestions you made to his
sister!"

     "Ouch, let go, Pax!  Pax!"

     Two dishevelled objects rolled apart.  The magic word had been
uttered.
  I knew that Adam would start the next round in retaliation for the
clutching hand which had encircled his own vulnerable, very lickable, orbs.
Having sucked on them when at the Villa I could speak from personal
experience!

     A bit later he told me, in strictest confidence, he was very keen on
Letitia, and her brother was a good guy, and he thought Vanda was a flash
in the pan - a good lay but no more than that.  He'd have to help Ivo find
a steady if 'Tory didn't materialise.

     Tris filled me in on further details of his Saturday night adventures.
He was visiting the Club quite regularly and Dave, plus Brad and his
sidekicks, Carl and Whippet, were a good little group.  He said Dave was
very busy getting ready for his next lot of nursing exams and just liked to
relax for a drink and a chat.  They all said they wanted to see me,
whenever.  He did say he kept it very quiet about his visits when back in
College but he'd told Ivo again who said he had to watch his back.

     All this was incidental to my schedule of events.  I took my ARCM
exams before Christmas and I thought I might pass.  No horrible errors, I
judged.  Mr Prentice came with me to the examination to help me with
practice and registration and said he was quietly confident, at least over
my playing.  Wait and see.

     Christmas arrived in a flurry of present buying and Gran came up from
Haslemere where she lived - quite near the Price-Williams' cottage.  Gran
was great fun and I and Frankie spent quite a lot of time playing piano
duets with her.  Listening to Frankie I was most impressed at his
increasing expertise.  We all went to Covent Garden for the Christmas
ballet and, as Dad was playing in the orchestra and got tickets, we all
went to the Albert Hall for a pops concert.  Then I had to settle down as I
had the ARCO exams next.
  These, I thought were stickier than the others.  Mr Prentice said I'd
done well again but I wasn't sure.  I got a bit flustered at one stop
change and, as no general pistons were allowed, had relied on remembering
where a stop knob was.  I got it in time but I was afraid I might have lost
the rhythm.  'Rubato' whispered Mr Prentice, so when the phrases were
repeated I emphasised the change in tempo.  Can't always win I thought.

     All this was set against having my Tristan at home for a month.  I
think we made up for lost time.  I was seventeen and a half and according
to the book on adolescence I was at my sexual prime.  At nearly nineteen
Tris hadn't started any sort of decline.  We sucked and wanked each other
almost every day when my parents and Frankie were out and on two occasions
we had time and opportunity for a long slow, loving fuck each.  As Tris's
mother was always at home except on Tuesdays when she played bridge and we
could never rely on Shelley being out, it was my bed on which we pursued
our love.

     One afternoon we had just finished a more than enthusiastic wanking
and sucking session, three times each spread over about two and a half
hours, interspersed with long chats about our lives and happenings, when we
heard Frankie and Jack arrive downstairs.  Luckily, Frankie didn't come
barging in when they pounded up the stairs as we were as usual, nude, and
must have stunk to high heaven having expended our liberal streams of spunk
over each other's torsos.  Tris had the theory that if massaged in, then
the rampant hormones would be absorbed and would increase the sexual output
for next time.  When challenged on this, his reply was always 'Prove it
doesn't happen!'.  As sexual output seemed to remain at a constant high
level I said it was difficult to disprove as we were probably near, or at
our maximum.  I said that in mathematical terms our sexual output was
asymptotic with the curve almost reaching a maximum.  Tris said cut the
mathematical bollocks and just exercise our own a bit more!

     When we went downstairs Frankie and Jack were in the kitchen scoffing
the usual large sandwiches Frankie always made.  I noted, approvingly, that
although Frankie had ham in his, Jack had cheese and pickle.  Although not
observant I knew the family kept to the dietary laws and Jack was mother's
pride and joy.  I thought, 'My son the doctor!'.  I could quite see why he
and Frankie were good friends.  They shared the same interests and I knew
both were super bright.  I'd helped Jack once or twice with his maths but
he needed little in the way of hints to grasp the work most effectively.
He was determined to be a statistician like his father and I wondered if he
and Frankie collected any interesting data..  I was absolutely sure they
were wank-buddies as I'd noted a bottle of Mum's hand lotion tucked behind
the computer one day.  Uncircumcised boys don't need it and I didn't think
Frankie was worried about rough hands caused by washing-up the dinner
things!

     Tris had laughed when I told him and said he wasn't surprised.  Jack
was a good- looking kid and if Jack had been the same age as me he might
have ditched me when I was fourteen!  For that he got a duelling tongue and
a really fast, hard wank and the admonition that if Jack could jack him off
so magnificently he was welcome to him!  He reciprocated and said he
enjoyed that extra bit of skin on me as he could get his tongue under it,
so all was forgiven.

     As I went over to put the kettle on they both gave us what could be
construed as knowing looks.  We had obviously been discussed and Frankie
did rather put his foot in it.

     "Didn't know you were in," he said, lying through his teeth.
"Couldn't hear you around.  Where were you?"  He looked at Jack, who could
hardly contain himself, and took another great bite from the inch thick
doorstep.

     "That's no business of yours," said Tris.  He turned and looked at me.
"I had a look for some lotion in your Mum's bathroom as I've got this rough
patch on my heel where my new trainers have rubbed and I couldn't find any.
I thought there was a bottle in the cabinet before Christmas."

     "Yes, there was," I said, playing to the gallery and loving every
moment.  "Haven't looked in there for ages.  Amazing how quickly it gets
used up though, there was a new bottle only a few weeks previously and I
saw it was half-empty when I went to get a paracetamol for Gran when she
was here and I know Mum doesn't use it much."

     It was a study in fortitude.  Two fourteen-year-olds knew they had
been rumbled.  They knew no remarks could be made about two older boys who
they were certain had not been discussing the higher realms of symbolic or
any other sort of logic behind a closed bedroom door.  Their countenances
went from knowing to almost sheepish.  I would take a little pleasure
sometime by reminding the Toad that he would upset his eyesight, not just
by staring at the computer screen.  On the other hand, staring at the
computer screen, and wanking at the same time, must double the chances!


     Well, Tris had to go back to Cambridge and I had to wait patiently for
my results.  Tris as usual was full of news in his e-mails and an early one
was rather odd.

          'Hi Most Wonderful.  Usual hurry as I must get an essay finished
but Thugs saw me today as they are worried about Brin the Boatie.  He's
reading History and didn't turn up for a seminar with P-B his morning and
one of the other students told Adam.  They were going for a run just before
lunch so went up to his rooms in their running kit.  Door was unlocked so
went in and rather a repeat of my experience.  He was flat out on the floor
and starkers as before.  Ivo said he put his ear to Brin's chest to listen
to his heartbeat as his pulse was so slow and Adam was massaging his legs
as he was cold as well.  They heard a noise behind them and there was Drew
who must have seen the open door.  He took one look and shouted out they
were all sinners but they had been corrupted by the most evil one who took
delight in seducing the young!  He turned and ran out.  They assumed he
meant Brin as he'd seen him with me and had probably misinterpreted not
only the scene but my statement that I had sex with my boyfriend whenever.
They said it took some time for Brin to come round and he wasn't too
pleased they'd found him like that.  His friend Jeremy turned up then and
said he'd look after him so they left.  Adam said it was all rather fishy
and if Drew knew anything about seduction an erection was usually involved
and Brin was too far gone and it was just floppy!  I've kept out of Drew's
way but he does seem to keep a wary eye on me when I'm in Chapel.  Tell you
more later.  Love, Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     I was well into the swing of things in this my last term before my A
Level exams.  I was enjoying the Maths and Physics and was working hard.
As far as the Music was concerned I seemed to have no great problems
although I found the History component a bit of a bore.  Then, within days
of each other, two crested envelopes arrived.  With trepidation I opened
them as soon as the postman came.  Oh, joy!  I had passed both!  At the age
of seventeen - the earliest age for taking the examinations - I was now the
proud possessor of two qualifications that branded me as competent on my
chosen instrument.  I had e-mailed Tris immediately I heard each time.  He
must have spread the word.  E-mails from the twins and a letter, in the
most beautiful almost Gothic script, from Charles.  There was a letter also
from the Chaplain noting his pleasure and that he had informed the Master
of my success.  Mr Prentice was over the moon - 'Fellowship next!' was his
observation.  Frankie printed a card which he stuck on my bedroom door -
'Mark H Foster Esq ARCM ARCO'.  I took him and Jack to the local Burger
King where they stuffed themselves with quantities of junk-food.  When we
got home I gave Frankie a bottle of arnica 'for skateboarding bruises' and
Jack a bottle of hand-lotion 'for.....' The looks they exchanged with each
other told it all.

     One evening I'd worked really hard.  I had gone through the chapter
and all the exercises on De Moivre's theorem and thought I had that in my
head.  I kept thinking of Tris though and went down for a drink and
sustenance just after nine.  Mum was listening to Radio 3 as usual and was
reading the latest Ruth Rendell.  She waved it at me.

     "I'll let you off the treadmill a bit if you like," she laughed.
Homework was always referred to as 'the treadmill'.  "Only a dozen or so
pages and you can have it."

     I shook my head.  "I much prefer the old stagers," I said, "Give me
Agatha or Dorothy L, or someone like that, any time.  I'll have it though
and put it in my collection of 'to be read later' as I found one today I've
been looking for and I'll read that first."

     She laughed.  Even the times when she cleared out books for the Oxfam
shop I would never let her have any of my precious considerable hoard of
vintage detective stories.  In fact, taking her books to the shop usually
meant I picked up a copy of some well-thumbed paperback for tenpence or so.
My last haul at Christmas had included Jacqueline Tey's 'The Daughter of
Time' and a truly well worn copy of her 'Brat Farrar'.  I'd been absorbed
by both and had only just finished 'Brat' when Dad pounced on it saying he
hadn't read it for ages and needed something to wile away the hours between
rehearsals and seeing another up- coming scraper for a lesson.  I want it
back I said.

     "You must know every plot under the sun," Mum said.

     "It's not the plots," I said, "It's all the methods that intrigue me
and the reasons, but especially how they sort out all the clues..."

     "Sex, money and jealousy as major reasons, eh?" she said "Makes the
world go round in more ways than one."

     "Mum!" I said, laughing, "Saying things like that.  Frankie might
wonder what we're talking about."

     She laughed, too.  "No, I know what you mean.  It's the little clues
you have to spot to unravel the mystery.  Like finding an empty packet of
biscuits tucked under someone's bedside chair....."  She stopped she'd seen
something I hadn't.

     "Not me, Mum," came a voice at the door, "I put it under the desk!"

     "The criminal's confessed," I said as I turned and took hold of
Frankie's arm.  He'd, as usual, crept along without us realising it.

     He ignored my grip.  "What was that you were saying about reasons,
Mum?"

     Mum never minced words.  "I said most reasons for doing things boiled
down to sex, money or jealousy, or all three."

     There was a few moments silence.  I said nothing.  I wanted to see how
my growing little brother would cope with a statement like that.  I let go
and he came and stood by me.

     "I don't really know about the first," he said very seriously, "But I
can guess that a lot of things happen because of the second.  And people
get jealous if they think other people have more money or anything else
than them.  It makes me wonder sometimes how people think.  I pity those
people who haven't got money because they can't get a job but there's a lot
of kids at school who are jealous and none of the kids at school are really
poor."  He shook his head.  "And it's not always the poor ones who are
jealous.  There's lots of things I would like but I don't get jealous and
nasty."  He looked up at me.  "Shouldn't say this really but someone's been
pinching things from our lockers.  Stupid things.  Lucas Forbes had
football socks taken and Jeb Greenham had just his laces pinched - Oh, and
Willy Fox had a couple of old pens taken..  All stupid things."

     "Doesn't sound too much like jealously, just plain nastiness," I said,
"Any clues?"

     "No.  Jack and I have watched to see who's not around at times but
it's difficult so we're going to find out a different way."  He laughed.
"If they pinch things, they'll get pinched."

     He went over to Mum.  "Our lockers are near the top and we have to
stretch up to reach and they're easy to open, so we've set mousetraps in
ours and if anyone opens them and stretches and feels in they'll get
pinched!  Just like that!"  He stuck his hands out and flicked his fingers.

     Mum's face was a picture.  She didn't know whether to laugh or be
stern.  I just burst into song, "And the punishment fit the crime....."

     Francis looked up at me and grinned.  "That was what Jack said.  You
lot gave us the idea."

     Mum composed herself.  "Well, all I hope is you don't get the blame if
someone gets hurt."

     "Yes, Frankie, it's a bit drastic.  Almost like the old days - setting
man-traps for poachers."

     "Yes, we thought of that, but chances are they'll only set the traps
off as we put a bit of string there as well.  But it'll scare them, won't
it?"

     We admitted it would but also, I said, they should look for clues and
any pattern.  Were there any particular things about the boys who had had
things pinched?
  Were they friends of each other?  Did the class have particular cliques?
Were there loners?

     I saw that Frankie was taking all this in.  "We'll have to think about
that."

     Mum looked at him and smiled.  "Bed now, young sir."

     He nodded and went off out of the kitchen.  I said I would read a bit
before I went up and drew out my latest find, one I'd heard of but spied in
the window of the Help the Aged shop this afternoon, Edmund Crispin's 'A
Moving Toyshop'.  I held it up.  Mum just laughed.

     "I learned a lot of English and lots about England reading books like
that," she said.

     Frankie and Jack's ploy worked.  I was in his room answering an e-mail
from Tris when he returned from school with a triumphant grin on his face.

     "Guess what, we caught the bugger!"

     Language, young man, I thought.  But......

     "What's that?" I said clicking on 'Send' and then going to 'Sent
Messages' to delete the description of what I wanted to do to him next time
we met.  That was not for Frankie's eyes!  OH, Hell!  What would happen if
Tris opened the e-mail with onlookers in their computer room?

     "Caught Wayne Ross with the trap!  We put Jack's new ruler in his
locker and this afternoon the trap was sprung and we heard Wayne had gone
to Nurse with a bruised finger.  Anyway, we'd worked it out it was him
pinching things but we needed proof.  He was always asking to be excused
and then Jack saw him snooping in one of the younger kids' lockers and he
said he'd mislaid a pair of shorts and he thought his brother had borrowed
them.  His brother's locker was nowhere near that one.  Then he asked to be
excused first lesson this afternoon and he didn't come back.  I don't think
we'll be losing things again!"

     "Yes," I said, "But it's still circumstantial evidence.  He may have
mistaken his brother's locker.  He may have trapped his finger in a door.
The trap might have sprung by a change of temperature.  And reasons?  Any
thoughts on that?"

     "Too true," he breathed.  "Mustn't jump to conclusions."  He tapped me
on the arm and laughed.  "Bet the reason's sex!  But we can't prove it!"

     A couple of days later there was a rather startling e-mail from Tris.

          'Hi Flower of the Forest as it's just gone Burns Night.  Big
celebration with the gaggle of Scots in College.  I got roped in to sing
'My Luv is Like a Red Red Rose' and Charles arranged with Moss Bros near
John's for a kilt and all for me.  Must say I looked good!  Its not true as
far as I'm concerned!  As it was, my underwear was inspected more than once
but Donald McKay was bent over the table and his bare bum was slapped by
all!  Got really pissed on the gravy - best malt from someone's uncle's
distillery!  But story at the moment is that Brin the Boatie has
disappeared.  His friend Jeremy came round this morning all concerned.  Had
I seen him as we'd seemed to be friends as he'd liked running with me?
Said they'd been at school together and Brin had been his fag and now he
owed him money.  I didn't enquire but Ivo said he guessed it was
drug-related.  I didn't know he was really the Honourable Jeremy Foskett
and Adam said he was known as 'Tosspot' because he belonged to a couple of
the drinking clubs.  Haven't really come across them but did see some
Hooray Henrys as Adam called them last Saturday evening.  Have to tell you
- Adam came with me to the Club.  He's a good dancer and I wonder.....  He
and Davy got on well and Whippet said he'd look good in leather.  Brad and
Carl weren't there.  Adam said I wasn't to tell Ivo.  So, private!!  Love
Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'


       Next day:

          'Hi, Dreadful news.  Brin's dead.  Found in the river in front of
the boathouses.  Don't know more.  Big flap on!  Tosspot came banging on my
door at lunch- time wanting to know what I knew.  He told me he'd been
found.  Was f'ing and blinding saying he supposed he wouldn't get his money
back.  I said if he was dead surely he should be more concerned about that.
He stalked off saying I'd better mind what I said.  Dingley told me Tosspot
tries to make out he's the connoisseur of all.  He couldn't care less as
his father is loaded.  His latest is that he wants to play the organ and
Dingley has said he wouldn't take him on.  He does play, but badly so D
says.  Must get down to some reading now as day has been disrupted.  Love
and think of me when you..... Tris.  Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     I was stunned.  I found it difficult to comprehend the death of
someone who was probably not much older than me.  My impression was that
Tris was also rather shocked as well as his e-mail was much shorter than
usual.  He had been a sort of friend.  It was someone he knew - I was going
to say intimately, he had seen him naked and Drew had thought... - but Brin
was someone he had shared an interest with, even if it was just running.
He must have been upset that such a thing could happen so close to home, as
it were.  I wanted to be with him and those thoughts kept welling up but I
was also really engrossed with my final burst of studying.

     Although things were going smoothly as far as the Applied Maths and
the Physics were concerned I realised I was trying too hard with the Pure.
As soon as we worked a proof or were shown a rider I wanted to go further.
If Brin had been on drugs then Maths was a drug for me.  I showed some of
my workings to our Head of Maths who laughed and said I should keep to the
syllabus until Jimmy Tanner got hold of me.  He'd work my brain to the
bone!  But, OK, my reasoning was good if a bit ponderous at times.

     When I got home the next day Frankie was on the computer but said as
soon as he'd saved his game I could go on-line.  I said he'd better do his
homework then and he chuntered on about nasty big brothers so I threatened
to take his trousers down and tan his bare arse more in jest than anger.
'You and whose army?' was his retort.  Then he said 'like that Donald McKay
got'.  He fell silent.  The Toad had been reading my e-mails!!  I did leap
on him and had him over the bed squawking like mad.  Luckily Mum was out.

     "Confess!"  I said, "What have you read?  I'll count to three and if I
don't get the truth you'll get tanned even though beating small children is
illegal!"

     He thought my threat was genuine.  Beans were spilled.  He'd only read
the Burns Night one.  It was my fault, he said, I'd left my e-mail box
open.  Truth, he said, I only read that one.  He heard me coming along the
landing and had shut it down and couldn't get back.  No, he didn't know my
password.  I think it was all genuine.  I let him up.  He looked at me with
sorrowful eyes and shook his head.

     "I promise it's true.  That one was just funny.  Tris in a kilt and
being drunk.  I'd like to see that!  But is that student really missing?"

     "He's dead," I said.  Frankie gasped.  I knew what he'd told me was
true.  He hadn't read anything since.  "I don't know anything else.
Perhaps there's something if Tris has e- mailed today."

     "Promise I won't look," he said, "How horrible...."

     He came over and saved his game.  I clicked on my icon and put in my
password and then clicked on the ISP icon.  While I waited I opened Outlook
Express and as soon as the sign came up I clicked on Send/Receive.  There
was nothing.  I typed a desultory greeting and sent it.

     "Try later," said Frankie.

     While Mum was in the kitchen preparing our evening meal I told her
about the e-mail I'd received about Brin being dead.  She said I'd better
check later to see if there was a message.  Frankie, who seemed to be
shadowing me, said that was what he'd said.  Of course, as soon as we'd
eaten Frankie was up the stairs calling on me to follow.  We logged on and
he sat on the edge of the bed as I opened Outlook Express.  I had mail.

          'Hi Only just got in to send this - no work done this afternoon.
When I got back from the lecture this morning there was a note in my
pigeon-hole that Detective Chief Inspector Bradley Wolstencroft would call
on me at two o'clock.  While I was reading this Old Albert was telling one
of the dons that the post-mortem showed there was evidence of drugs and
he'd drowned probably as he was doped up and fell in.  After the don went I
showed the note to Old Albert and he said I ought to see my Moral Tutor
straight off but he'd gone up to London.  I said I'd talk to Ivo or Adam
and he agreed, they had their heads screwed on, he said, but the College
didn't like the police snooping though his own brother had been a constable
and had always done his duties quietly.  I didn't feel like lunch but Adam
made me tea and gave me a couple of scones and said he would wait with me.
Ivo wasn't there as he'd gone to the Library, Surprise, surprise!  The
Chief Inspector turned out to be Brad the Leatherman and his Sergeant was
Whippet - Sergeant Dudley Woolpit - apparently pronounced near enough
Whippet in Suffolk where he comes from.  Good job Adam was there and not
Ivo as they greeted us like long lost brothers.  They wanted to interview
me as Jeremy had been to identify the body and had told them I knew Brinley
as I went running with him.  I said I had but had given up after I found
him passed out.  Adam piped up and said he and Ivo had found him in the
same state.  The DCI - mustn't call him Brad in this - said he had a large
dose of sleeping pills, plus evidence of cocaine, in his system.  They
thought he'd gone out running late at night and had collapsed into the
river because he would have lost consciousness when the sleeping pills
acted.  He did have a large skull wound which was consistent with falling
over the edge and hitting his head on an iron rail or the concrete.  They
seemed satisfied with my tale and they asked Adam and me to go to the
station tomorrow to sign statements.  The DCI went out with Adam and
Whippet said I wasn't to worry and see you Saturday!  He's a very handsome
man and dresses well - nice suit.  If it wasn't for you I think I could
fancy him.  You'll like him.  That's a confession and the truth.  Can't
stop thinking of you, though, with all my love, Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     Frankie was all ears as I summarised the gist for him, leaving out the
juicy bits about Tris's Saturday excursions and who he met.

     Next afternoon Frankie had everything set for me just to enter my
password.

          'Hi I must think up things to start with but it's been hectic
again.  Ivo insisted he came with Adam and me to back up Adam's story.  Of
course I had to explain who the DCI and Sergeant were and Adam did say he'd
met them, too.  Ivo looked slightly miffed.  They're an odd pair.  Anyway,
we were taken along to the DCI's room by, guess who, Constable Carl
Bachman, the third of the leather trio.  Turns out Ivo has met him,
officially, as he was on the Rag Committee last year and Carl was liaison
officer.  He went to Oxford!  Did PPE, explain later.  Read through
statements and from what little I know about police procedure they seemed
OK.  General statement that we knew him and had helped him when found in a
comatose state.  After we'd signed DCI said that when they searched his
room they found almost a gram of cocaine hidden in a shoe and two bottles.
One with a chemist's label on and they'd found the prescription form for
temazepam.  They would be checking on that.  But, the other bottle was
plain, no label.  What had I found?  I said the bottle I picked up
definitely had a label and I was almost sure it had something beginning
with T on it.  He then asked if I would mind having my fingerprints taken
to check on the bottles.  I said I didn't mind as I had seen only one
bottle.  Quite a business with all the inking and pressing.  Assured they
would be destroyed once checked.  All most distressing.  I miss you and
want you here to be with me.  Love me for ever as I love you, Tris
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     On Friday evening was an even more sinister turn reported:

          'Hi My One and only Marky.  This afternoon I was in my room and
Carl the Constable came.  He wasn't in uniform and brought the fingerprint
form which he gave me.  He said my prints were on the labelled bottle as
were the chemist's and Brinley's.  Only Brin's were on the second bottle
which he said was odd.  They thought it had been wiped clean at some time.
Also the pills in there were a barbiturate called Luminol and were rarely
on prescription.  Had I heard of them or knew where he got them.  I said I
hadn't even heard of Luminol but I'd heard about barbiturates.  He asked if
I knew of any hard drug use in the College and I said I didn't but I'd
guessed Brinley might be a user as he was alternately low then high and I
had seen white powder in his room.  He said they'd had that analysed and it
was cocaine.  He was very chatty after that and asked how I was liking Law
and did I intend joining the police as I would be fast-tracked.  He said he
was just finishing his probationary period and was going on to further
study after the summer.  Oh, PPE is Politics, Philosophy and Economics and
he got an Attila!  Arranged to meet up tomorrow.  Playing first. Thugs are
short in their team so am number eight between them!  Glad Babyballs will
be on our side!  He got rat-arsed so Adam said last Saturday night and
bumped into Drew who ranted on that he was evil and an abuser of his
God-given body and Drew ended up in the fountain.  Reminds me of that hymn
There is a Fountain Filled with Blood as Drew had a bloody nose so Adam
said.  P-B is proving more of a pain so Ivo said as he's lobbying hard for
the Chapel to be closed.  He's now on about Health and Safety as he says
the structure is unsound.  Dingley said that Drew seems to spend a lot of
time praying in the Chapel and it puts him off practising knowing he's
there.  Charles wrings his hands and says he wonders what will come of all
of it.  Must talk to Jason but he's been away with flu or something.  Trust
me tomorrow - think of me playing and then going to the Club..... I
promise!  Love Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     What was I to think.  He would be enjoying himself on Saturday
evening...  And I would be at home wondering.... ...and wanking!  No!  At
breakfast Dad had two tickets in front of him.  Concert at the Festival
Hall for tonight.  Did his two sons want them or had they better things to
do?  We went!

     Further e-mails said that there was an inquest and accidental death
was recorded.  Tris said Carl had let slip that the police weren't
satisfied.  Too many loose ends.  Tris had had another barney with Tosspot
who wanted to know if he'd pinched anything from Brin's room as valuable
property was missing.  Tris said he got the impression it was more drugs.
He said he was minded to drop Tosspot in the shit by telling Carl or
Whippet but he had no proof.

     He said Babyballs had more or less flattened Drew again.  Apparently
Drew and the third organ scholar, Matt Thyssen, were having a stand-up row
outside Hall one lunch-time about Drew's interference with the music in the
Chapel and he'd had his group practising when Matt wanted to practise as
well on the organ as he was preparing to give a recital.  While they were
arguing Bryce came up and Drew stepped back and elbowed him.
  Bryce called him a skinny-arsed Bible-thumper plus a bit more then barged
him out of the way ending up by saying he was probably as big a poofter as
that other one.  Matt said he obviously meant Charles and they hadn't
passed on that insult but someone else had told him.  Charles was upset and
cancelled the next performance he was scheduled to do, much to Ivo and
Adam's annoyance as they were to be participants with Adam as Clarissa's
Adam to her Eve and Ivo as a near-naked importuning snake and most of the
Rugger XV, including Tris, as beasts of the jungle with animal heads and
furry tails and little else other than painted patterns on their skin.

     So Easter came and Tris was home.  I was still at school the afternoon
he arrived but when I went up to my bedroom as soon as I had hurried home
he was lying there, nude, ready, with seven candles burning and scenting
the air.  The door was then locked to keep any inquisitive Toads out and I
fucked him slowly and wondrously giving him, and receiving back, all the
love, warmth and radiant adoration both of us had missed for so long.

     So began almost a month of such affinity before we were parted again.
I had been worried before Easter about my exams and Tris had his first year
exams to contend with.  We sat together and swotted, then we had sex and
swotted again.  A perfect combination.

     Just before he went back my life became really hectic.  Exams, exams
and more exams!  Doing Applied Maths and Physics meant the Physics was
helped considerably and I wasn't too worried about either of them.  I got
stuck on one Pure Maths question but realised I had copied down the wrong
set of indices and spent time puzzling.  As soon as I checked and spotted
my foolish error the proof needed wasn't too bad.  I wondered if I was a
little too blase about the Music.  Here was I, more qualified than a mere A
Level in Music, two professional diplomas in my hand.  It was the History
of Music again.  I mentally gave myself a couple of clouts round the head
and in the end was pleased with that paper.

     Tris had only been back at St Mark's a week or so when another
bombshell hit the college.

          'Hi, All Hell's let loose here.  Babyballs Bryce was found this
morning by a man and his dog face down in a very muddy ditch out towards
Grantchester.  He should have been taking one of his Finals papers this
afternoon, too.  I heard all this from one of our rugger lot a minute or
two ago as they've all been questioned about when last seen.  Don't know
anything else but Charles is also upset about something.  Flaps about
weeping and he's got Finals this week and next.  Sorry - I should have said
how much I'm missing you and I've got a paper to do tomorrow.  Must go, All
my love Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     I read through the e-mail twice before it hit me.  Bryce was dead!
And Brinley had died the term before!  It sounded to me as if that college
was a dangerous place!  Tris was worried.  I knew it was more about his
exams than anything else.  But he'd played rugger in the same team as Bryce
and that meant something even if Babyballs was an uncouth, bigoted,
homophobic, overdeveloped male.  Huh, overdeveloped in body but not in
balls!  I wondered if that was why he was so homophobic.  But it might have
been his whole background.  I just didn't know.  He'd upset Charles with
his comments and he'd ranted on at Drew accusing him of being a homosexual
as well.  I wondered what he might have said if he knew about Tris who had
played in that same team and had even showered together with him?

     Two days later there was more horrible news.

          'Hi I'm too upset to send pleasantries.  Charles has been taken
in for questioning.  Apparently those comments I heard weren't the only
occasion that Bryce had said things to him or about him.  As two other
occasions were in the presence of others word got to the police and Charles
was heard to say that someone would get him one day.  The post mortem
showed he'd been poisoned but actual death was due to all the dirt and mud
which got into his mouth and nose when he landed in the ditch and so he
couldn't breath.  We've been told the poison was strychnine and all our
rooms have been searched especially all us on Stair F.  Adam and Ivo had to
calm both Matt and Charles.  The police found a load of porn in Matt's
wardrobe - male/female so Adam said.  Some Constable threatened to tell the
Dean if he didn't confess to killing Bryce.  Matt was distraught - he told
the twins he only looked at it to wank over.  He's such a nice guy.
Unfortunately we don't know which Constable.  I was interviewed by Whippet
and I told him.  He said he'd check but it sounded like some over-zealous
erk who was hoping for promotion and they were certainly not interested in
a lad and his wank-mags!  Whippet asked if I'd heard anything that Bryce
had said and I told the truth. He said Bryce had accused several of the
students of homosexuality but as far as he knew the others had more or less
ignored him.  So Charles wasn't the only one, but he had hinted that
someone might one day...  I feel really bad about Charles as I feel I've
helped to condemn him.  But, it would be on my conscience otherwise.  You
understand don't you?  Say you do.
  I feel wretched.... Can't write any more, Love, Tris
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     I sent an immediate message.  I felt Charles was too good a person to
do such a thing but Tris had been right to tell.  He was going to be a
lawyer and I said he had to be truthful and I loved him even more for that.

     Mum realised I had more on my mind than exams so after Frankie had
gone up to bed I told her the whole story.  She said that whoever could do
such a thing must have a motive of some sort.  I said we knew he was
homophobic and accused people left, right and centre but Charles was the
obvious target for his gibes and the obvious suspect because of what he'd
said.  Dad came home then and I had to repeat the whole story.  He said
that there must be more.  How was the poison administered?  What was the
lethal dose?  Why was he out towards Grantchester?  Anyway, he said, he
expected a College as old as St Mark's might have strychnine lying about as
it used to be used as rat poison.

     I went up to bed very worried.  Tris was upset as his story had been
part of the cause of Charles being questioned.  'Taken in'.  Did that mean
he'd been arrested?
  And Tris had said Charles had been upset about something before Bryce was
found.  Was there a connection?  I tried to put these things out of my mind
and just concentrate on my Tris.  I fixed that usual image of him, his
lovely toned torso, his flat stomach and that trail of fine dark golden
hair leading down to.....  That was as far as I got before my love for Tris
erupted and sprayed all over my own bare torso.  I took up several
fingerloads and tasted my own self and offered it in my mind to Tris.  I
smiled and slept.

     I just had two more papers to do and spent the next day at home
revising quietly in the Shed only emerging for bouts of sustenance and one
session of relief before boredom set in.  No, I lie.  I kept thinking of
Tris and what can you do with a perpetual hard-on?  At half past five I'd
had enough - not of pleasant relief but work - and went indoors and up to
Frankie's room to check on e-mails.  He was lying on his bed and had been
crying I could see.  What was up?  He said he'd been playing cricket and a
stray ball had caught him at square leg, I mean, straight between the legs.
I wanted to laugh but knew from experience that even a slight tap to the
balls was so, so painful.  He'd still got his cricket whites on so he must
have been hurt not to have changed.

     "Shall I have a look to see if there's any bruising?" I asked.

     "You'll only laugh if there is, but it hurts!"

     "Come on, big brother won't laugh - not even at your two inch
tiddler!"

     He did try to laugh between sniffs.

     "You'd better take them off as you know where it hurts," I said.

     He moved over and undid his trousers - new whites with a draw-string
at the top.

     "Have you got one of those cups?" I asked.  I'd never had one as I
nearly always managed to get out of playing that most boring game.  Tris,
of course, loved it and was a good batsman and went out to the wicket
always with a protective cup guarding his vital parts.  Even so, he'd been
hit square on it one day and said that hurt as the cup banged into his
belly and groin.

     Frankie sniffed.  "No," he said, "I need one if this happens.  I like
cricket."

     Oh well, chacun a son gout, and I thought I knew how to help.  He was
pulling down his trousers and his pants as I spoke.  "I guess Tris has one
in amongst his old cricket things.  I'll ask Auntie Di if I can have a
look.  Knowing him he probably had more than one and I haven't heard if
he's playing cricket for the College this term.  He's probably got a
miniature one he had when he was about eight - should fit you!"

     Even in his hurt state little brother managed to raise two fingers at
me.  And I was wrong in my snide estimation.  Wow, my fourteen-year-old
little brother was growing fast - at least in one area of his anatomy.  His
cock was not the old two-inch tiddler but was now longer and plumper and
his balls were quite saggy.  The left one was a bit redder than the right.
He'd been a little bit bruised.  Nothing much but the bang had been
sufficient to cause a good deal of pain.

     "If I were you," I said, putting on a knowledgeable big brother air,
"I'd put a cold compress on that.  Wring out a flannel in cold water and
hold it to it.  Come on, slip those off your legs and we'll do it in your
bathroom."

     Obediently he followed me and the deed was soon done.  A look of
relief was on his face after the initial shock of the cold.

     "I'll stay here and keep doing it," he said, "Thanks!"

     Anything for little brothers with sore balls.  Especially with balls
that size!

     I went back and switched the computer on.  I had mail.

          'Hi Thought of you for ages last night to get relaxed - only
happened once I'd....  (Fill in blank space, my angel).  I did sleep but
fitfully as news was even more startling.  Whippet came to see me during
the evening.  Really I think because he was concerned about me - he's a
really nice guy, you'll like him.  He said the pathologist had done more
tests and had come to the conclusion the poison had been administered by
putting it in the gelatine shells used for vitamin pills.  Apparently, one
of BB's pals - he did have a couple somewhere in the woodwork - said he
took vitamin pills by the handful and was always at the health shop near
Drummer Street bus station buying them.  Whippet said they had found a
plain canister which was half full and three empty health shop ones.  There
was a cardboard box addressed to him which could have held the canister but
there was no other address on the box and it had gone off to the lab for
testing.  Good news is that Charles is back and OK.  Jason's been looking
after him as there is something else worrying him and he's in the middle of
Finals.  By the way, Mr Fullerton says I'm OK.  I passed everything though
that's on the QT until examiners have announced it.  Ivo and Adam are fed
up and I'm afraid they've teased Matt about the mags.  He's not speaking to
them.  Dingley's gone to stay with a friend who's in digs as he's doing
Finals as well.  Too many upsets all round.  I'll be so glad when this is
all over.  With fondest love yours ever, Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     I sent a message telling Tris a Microbe was mutating and had
pronounced swellings which had become slightly more pronounced after the
application of a hard ball and there was now application of coldness to
reduce the said extra swelling and could the Microbe borrow an appliance to
protect his swollen swellings in case of future hard balls.  I also said I
too was worried, not only for him and the others but that such a thing
should happen to anybody, even someone so obnoxious as Bryce.

     My last exam was the next afternoon so in the morning I went to see
Auntie Di to get permission to rummage through Tris's unmentionables.  Oh,
wow, under a pile of washed and clean undies and tee-shirts there was a
bump in the paper drawer liner.  I snooped, I felt, I contemplated, I
withdrew - a copy of Gay Times!  He'd never told me he'd got a copy!  It
was mine now.  But how to smuggle it out?  As luck would have it I had on a
really baggy tee-shirt so tucked the mag in the top of the cargoes I was
wearing and it was hidden.  I found a cricket cup and a smallish jockstrap,
both of which I felt Tris could donate to the teenager who idolised him, in
exchange for withholding from me the existence of something most
interesting to read and learn from.  I had noted however it was over a year
old!

     Before going off to school I left the gifts from Tris for Microbe on
his pillow and tucked my gift from Tris under my own clean underwear in my
chest of drawers and sent an e-mail noting that someone seemed to have had
gay times before he went to College and I hoped any gay times might be kept
until I saw him and that I had filched something to protect little
brother's vulnerabilities..  A good morning's work and I was in a much
happier mood as I tackled that last Physics paper.  The thought struck me
as I came out of the examination room - my school days are over!  Here I
was just eighteen and no more school!  Just that wait until the results
came out in August, then the prospect of three years at Cambridge.  I felt
both sad and happy.

     Then more news:

          ' Hi Precious one - sounds as if I'm mutating into Charles just
as Microbe is mutating into a monstrous carbuncle, no doubt.  He can have
the cup and jockstrap with pleasure - he can model them for me when I get
home. Better not tell him that!  And that GT was given me by Sammy Patel -
said he swiped it from his father's shop - sorry I forgot to tell you - I
poked it under the paper and forgot about it!  More news.  The inquest was
very sombre.  I didn't go.  The verdict was death caused by person or
persons unknown.  The plain box had two pills amongst the others which had
dissolved strychnine in them.  They think the vitamin goo was sucked out
with a hypodermic syringe and the strychnine poked in the same way and then
the hole blocked.
  The other pills were best quality only got from good chemists not from
health shops.  Whippet came to see me again and told me that - I hope he
doesn't fancy me, but he's such a buff guy especially when Davy dances with
him.  Adam came down while he was with me and they had a long chat.  I have
the feeling that Adam is bi.  There, I've said it.  He said he envies you
and me.  Anyway he says he's very fond of Letty - he won't call her Titty
like her friends do - and as long as her brother keeps out of the way they
have it as often as they can.  But there's something wistful about him.
Ivo's back with 'Tory - she's nice.  Charles seems a little more himself.
He's worried in case he hasn't done as well as possible in his Finals.  His
news is that no one has applied to be Servant of the Chapel for next year
because of all the hooha so the Master has asked him if he would continue
and register for a BPhil.  He wants to do it on the records kept by the
Servants as he says there's lots of juicy bits.  As it is History and
Chapel the Chaplain is going to supervise him.  That'll be one over on P-B!
May Ball next.  Charles is planning an extravaganza for that - the Eve one
that got cancelled.  He says I am definitely in it!  Pray for me!!  With
all Love Tris xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.'

     As a farewell to school the whole of the Upper Sixth were going out
for a meal on Saturday and a pub crawl.  I cadged some money off Mum as my
bank account was getting a bit low and that was the first, and only time I
vowed afterwards, when I would get rat-arsed, pissed, slaughtered,
plastered, legless, you name it, as I came to, with about ten others on the
floor of Ryan Midgley's garage as his mother wouldn't let us in the house.
All he did was alopogise, agolopise, alogopise - which ever way he tried
it, it always came out wrong so between roaring our heads off, burping,
farting and feeling very, very sick we hunkered down on some old camping
mats and snored the night away.  If that was enjoyment, count me out,
though we all kidded ourselves we had never felt so good.  We had endured a
rite de passage - perhaps not so painful as the rather public circumcision
of Nigerian boys I'd witnessed on television - but something which marked
us as young men ready for the next stage in our lives.

     When I staggered in Mum took one look, prescribed two codeine and bed
rest and I slept the Sunday away.  All I heard that evening when I emerged
was the Toad boasting that he'd played for the first hymn at Mass and old
Mrs Springate had given him five pounds because he was so good.

     Tris's first year was winding down.  Charles had got over some of his
worries and, now there would be no more homophobic jibes, Clarissa did star
in 'All about Eve' at the final revue of the year and the animals brought
the house down with their imitation of the ballerinas in Swan Lake as the
finale, with Tris as a delightful Pooh Bear.  More bare according to
him. When Adam and Ivo appeared on their trek home Ivo said he knew now
what a dick must feel like stuck in a johnny as he had been encased in a
very tight rubber suit in his part as the snake.  Apparently the other
thing which amused the populace was that Adam's fig-leaf had a small motor
behind it so it rotated at various speeds - remotely controlled by
Annabelle - according to the level of arousal dictated by the script.  As
most was ad-libbed there were times, so Adam said, when he felt he might
get burnt balls from the heat of the little motor as it revved rather
erratically.

     Ivo was off to France for his usual three month stay to improve his,
now very fluent, French and Adam was going to work on a building site in
Wales for a friend of their father who was a property developer.  "Muscles
and money," he said.

     We would all meet up at the Villa as Tris and I would fly out as soon
as Frankie finished his school term and with Frankie returning at the
beginning of September we four older lads would stay on for September as
well.

     There was one last bit of information which Ivo imparted before they
went off home.  He'd found out what Charles was concerned about.
Apparently, he'd been sifting through Mother's jewel boxes again and had
found a box which he thought might contain more rings but there were three
letters in it.  They must have been written by his father who, from the
contents, so Ivo relayed, was stunned by the news that Mother was pregnant,
was apologetic but averred it was the first and only time and he did not
wish to repeat the experience and that now his course was over he was
returning to live with his boyfriend and for the sake of the little one she
must not even contemplate....  But, there would be payment... There was no
address and they were signed just with the letter A.

     Charles told Ivo he was too distraught to ask Mother anything.  At
least she hadn't arranged to end his life but what should he do?  He
wouldn't be seeing Mother anyway for a couple of months as she was in
Bermuda advising on the refurbishment of some grand house and then going on
to the States and he was going to Scotland to stay with an aged great-aunt
who was the last surviving relative on Mother's side.  Perhaps she might
know something.  I must admit we did laugh imagining the hand wringing and
waving and the hankies which must have been displayed to wipe any tears
away.  The trouble with Charles, said Ivo, is that you can rarely
distinguish fact from fiction.  But, we did wonder what it was like not
knowing who, or where, one's father was.

To be Continued: