Date: Sun, 03 Dec 2006 17:23:16 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: 16b

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

				    by

				   Joel

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster                        The story-teller:  Pennefather
Organ Scholar 2001
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams       His well-proportioned boyfriend
Francis [Toad] Foster                    Mark's younger brother
Ivo Richie Carr                             Mark's cousin:  chunky and
cheeky with it
Adam Benjamin Carr                   Ditto, as his twin
Oliver Jensen                               A Musical undergraduate with
allure
Charles Fane-Stuart                     The 'Servant of the Chapel'
Brinley (Harry) Potter                 An unbright boatie:  Dead
Bryce (Babyballs) McArdle         A sullen Aussie rugger forward:  Dead
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]
Commander McKenzie              Metropolitan Police:  Fiona's father
Fiona McKenzie         A Mathematical undergraduate with presence
Brian Bridges                             'Bulgy-Boy': A padded busboy at
the Club
David Davies                A good-looking student nurse, nursing a desire

      16.  (Part Two)         After the beginning of Term:  Oct 2001

     "The DCI sent me up to Scotland Yard to see his old boss Commander
McKenzie."  He looked at me, "You know his daughter, Fiona."  I nodded.
"Well, the DCI wondered if there was something extra for the first death
there might be something extra for the second, too."

     "You mean there might be a connection somewhere?" asked Ivo.

     "I suppose because of the sleeping pills and the vitamin pills that
had been tampered with?" said Adam.

     "Yes, that's the basic idea, but it's a bit more earthy than that,"
the Sergeant said, "Going back to the second case we know from the medical
evidence the covering gelatin would have dissolved in about fifteen to
twenty minutes.  The strychnine would then be released and would begin to
work.  Once that gets going it affects the nervous system and the victim
would begin to stagger.  In fact, would be likely to fall over, but here
the victim ended up off the path, face down in a muddy ditch.  Mr
Wolstencroft wondered if he'd been assisted.

     "We'd had a photographer there, of course, and we'd looked at the
photos submitted.  There were a lot of different footprints.  The old chap
and his dog who found him as well as Bryce's.  There were also some from
our lads and we were able to eliminate all the sets.  But then, what we
didn't know was that the photographer was using a new digital camera and
he'd shot a lot more photos than submitted for the initial analysis.  He
had about a dozen more he'd taken along the path checking that his camera
had automatic focussing.  The DCI spotted these as they weren't in the
first lot and I took them up to the lab boys in London.  They came up with
blown up versions."

     He opened the document bag he had with him and drew out two ten by
eight colour prints and held one of them up.

     "What the lab boys noticed was that within the footprints which could
be identified as Bryce's were others which followed closely and were
obviously imprinted just after he'd made his set."  He pointed at the
imprint of a large trainer or running shoe.  Within it was the clear image
of another, smaller, shoe.  "Bryce had size twelve feet.  This imprint
inside is size seven.  It was made by a very common make of trainer and
that's going to be difficult to track down as every kid of fifteen or
sixteen with feet that size has them....."

     ".....So it's the little bloke again," said Ivo.

     Sergeant Woolpit grinned.  "Much the same as our conclusion.  But why
should a set of smaller prints follow so closely?"

     "Because if Babyballs was being poisoned and staggering," said Tris,
"He wouldn't know he was being followed."

     "And when he got near the ditch," said Adam, "A push, and he lands
face down, floundering."

     "Didn't even flounder," said the Sergeant, shaking his head.  "He fell
head first into quite deep mud so his nose, mouth and air passages were
clogged with wet earth.  That's why I said it was more earthy!"

     "Oh my God!" said Tris, "I feel sick!"  He jumped up and went to the
bathroom.

     Adam got up and followed him.  "I'll see he's OK," he said.

     The Sergeant looked at Ivo and me as we sat and contemplated both an
untimely end and a horrible death.  Bryce had been twenty-four and was
dead.

     Tris and Adam came back into the room.  Tris's face much paler.  "I'm
OK now," he said, "I just couldn't bear to think of it.  He was in the same
rooms I've got now.  He should have got his degree and gone back to
Australia.  I thought of him lying there in the stinking mud...."

     "...Why did you say stinking?" asked the Sergeant.

     Tris thought for a moment.  "I don't know why.  But there is a funny
smell that comes from the ditch where it runs parallel with the river.  I
noticed it last term when it was hot.  I suppose I just remembered it."

     "Where Bryce fell in there was mud contaminated with sewage or slurry
from a broken pipe.  The stuff he fell in was very smelly."  He smiled.
"Just checking.  Anyway, we know you didn't run that way that day because
you met up with...." He consulted a notebook which he had taken from his
bag.  "....Fiso Akabuli and Toby Barker.  Right?"

     Tris nodded slowly.  "Yeah, I told you I'd met the first lad, Ugandan,
I think, after I'd given up running with Brin.  Toby was often around, too,
he's on the next stair.  They usually ran the other way - along the path
the other side of the river from the boathouses.  I would have been with
them."

     "Yes," said Sarge, "That's what they told us, too."  He looked down at
Tris's feet.  "And your trainers are not size seven?"

     Tris laughed and shook his head.  "Ten and a half!"

     "I can see that from here," said the Sergeant.

     "I suppose we've all been eliminated from your enquiries," said Ivo
slowly, "Or you wouldn't be here telling us things."

     "Or, he may be doing a Hercule Poirot," I said, rather smugly, as I
knew I hadn't done the dirty deeds, "All the suspects together and he drops
the bombshell.  But, Sarge, it can't be any of them - they've all got big
feet - look at Adam's!"

     The Sergeant laughed.  "We eliminated you all within twenty-four
hours, don't worry.  We had a list as long as our arm of all the people who
didn't like him.  He seemed to be able to make himself heartily disliked in
many ways."  He held up the notebook.  "It included most of the Rugger
Club, the bar staff, the buttery staff, four members of the public he'd had
arguments with and the ladies in the health food store who always got the
manager out when they saw him approaching.  Oh, and then there were three
boathouses where he'd tried to gatecrash to use their ergometers.  One of
the smaller boaties ended up in the river and the others were even a bit
wary of dealing with him."

     "Does that bring you back to our Rowing Club?" asked Adam.  "I've been
thinking about that.  I've seen him on the ergometer in there.  Anyway, the
cox of our main boat last year was Tilly Masters, she's at Ridley Hall now
doing the ordination course.  She was tiny."

     "That's why sex-hound here was at the boathouse," said Ivo with a
grin, "He didn't get anywhere with her.  He almost joined the Christian
Union to better his chances but she'd already got some lad in tow."

     "Shut up, bro" said Adam, "She could be a material witness.  She was
always jogging along the river bank early in the morning with two lads from
Pembroke."

     "Kept her in your sights, eh?" said Ivo.

     Adam sneered.

     Sarge spoke while he was riffling through other papers he had in the
bag.  "We have had reports of sightings of a small person seen running
along the Grantchester path wearing a plain grey sweatshirt with a hood
pulled up and grey joggers.  We got that from the chap whose dog found
Bryce in the ditch.  Saw the person two or three times and noticed him or
her because his dog barked at them.  He said he hasn't seen the person
since as he won't walk along that path again.  Not much help."  He held up
a bundle of papers.
  "These are copies of the statements you all made, except, of course, for
you, Mark," he said.  "They all tally with independent others, you've all
got big feet, but, although you generally ignored Bryce McArdle, none of
you liked him."

     "He was bad-tempered, a bully, homophobic, and not a very good
sportsman," said Adam.

     "I agree," said Ivo, "He was only tolerated in the team because he was
like a bull- dozer in the scrum."  He shook his head.  "Tris told you of
the confrontation he had with Charles Fane-Stuart and he called Drew
Penry-Jones a pouf and chucked him in the fountain."

     "Something he never reported," said Sarge.

     "Against his principles," said Ivo.  "He's a born-again Christian and,
I guess, thinks all these trials and tribulations are punishments for evils
he or others have done, imaginary or not.  I heard him ranting away on the
Market last term telling everyone he was as great a sinner as they were but
was seeking atonement and everyone else should repent or expect
punishment."

     "He's harmless, though," said Tris.  "I told him I'm gay and he's left
me alone since then."

     "But he did see you apparently being sucked off by Brin," said Adam,
"He yelled a few things at the pair of you then.  And we were seen
apparently about to have an orgy with him.  His shouting then was almost
incoherent.  I just think he's mad."

     Sarge looked at me and then at Tris with a grin on his face.  "If
everyone who's gay hasn't been told to repent at some time, they haven't
lived."

     "Just a question, Sarge," said Ivo.  "The inquest on Brin was told he
had cocaine as well as that sleeping pill stuff in his system, then some
coke was found in his room.  Have you found anything about where he might
have got it?"

     The Sergeant shook his head.  "The sleeping pills were Luminol and are
not prescribed a lot.  The bottle was clean, no finger-prints and no
chemist's label.  The batch was distributed to many chemists around the
country, we do know that.  The cocaine was a brand we know, as it were,
it's London-based, cut very heavily, sells pretty cheaply in pubs and clubs
around the Camden and Kentish Town area and also near Liverpool Street
Station.  We have no leads on that.  One dealer was found dead a week after
the Brin death but the Met don't think it was related.  His death was
black-on-black over money not forthcoming and the perpetrator was arrested
the next day.  But, a batch like it was found stashed in a holdall at
Drummer Street Bus Station."

     "Here?  In Cambridge?" asked Adam.

     "Yes, we think someone dumped it, or the intended recipient was
disturbed and never retrieved it.  There was a local football match that
evening and there were lots of rather inebriated lads waiting for buses so
a couple of fights broke out and the Force was called in.  Probably saw the
blue lights, dumped the bag and scarpered.  It might be a red herring but
we have come across small amounts of the same stuff in four other
colleges."

     "I don't think there's much, if any, amongst the hearties here," said
Ivo, "Steroids perhaps, like Babyballs!"

     "Yes," said Sarge, "Even his mother made a statement to that effect.
She'd found he was going for injections at the age of fourteen but she was
scared of him and his father was too busy making money to bother.  A big
rugby-playing son was an asset as far as he was concerned.  The tissue
analysis confirmed that.  He was a long-term steroid abuser with all the
known side-effects."

     "You watch it," said Adam to Ivo, "You can't afford to have your balls
any smaller than they are.  We really would have to call you Peanuts then!"

     "Peanuts!  Peanuts!!," Ivo exclaimed on a rising note, "And you call
yours wedding tackle?  They'd have to send in the SAS to search for your
winkle with a very large pin..."

     "OK, you two," said Tris, "We are all perfectly aware that you are
both as under- endowed as the College...."

     Unfortunately for Tris, he was sitting on the settee between them.
Sarge watched and laughed as they did their usual joint annihilation of the
enemy.  Tris was soon squawking as they held him and tickled and pinched
him, undoing his shirt and jeans in the process.  Luckily he was not going
commando so his prize possessions were not put on display for any
comparisons to be made.

     "Sergeant," I said, "They're assaulting my friend.  If they harm him
he won't be able to dance on Saturday."

     "Pax!" yelled Tris.  The magic word worked.

     "Thank you," said the Sergeant, nodding towards Ivo and Adam, "I look
forward to Saturday and if you care to join the party no doubt you will get
a dance, too."

     I got up.  "I think coffee or tea is in order.  Please keep an eye on
them while I'm out of the room, Sergeant, they do get rather boisterous at
times."  He laughed and sat back.  Tea seemed to be the general order so I
went out, put the kettle on and soon came back in with the teapot, milk,
sugar and good-sized mugs, plus a packet of chocolate digestives.  There
was a discussion going on about rugby football.  Sarge had played a lot
while in the Army and had been in the Metropolitan Police College team when
in training.  Ivo was doing much of the talking with the Sergeant and I
noticed Adam was looking very keenly at the very well- proportioned,
tough-looking man.  Tris had noticed too and nodded his head towards Adam
and smiled.  We knew who would be asking for the first, and probably the
last, dance on Saturday.

     Sergeant Woolpit said he'd better go but we could be very helpful if
we kept eyes and ears open.  Two deaths and they were now suspicious
deaths.  It was being kept quiet just in case anyone got suspicious
themselves.

     It wasn't long after he'd gone and we were still talking about it all
when there was a bang on the door.  It was Charles.  He looked rather
concerned but when he saw we were all laughing he looked very pleased about
something.

     "Darlings," he said in his usual manner, "I saw that so-butch nice
policeman come along and then he was here so long I expected to see at
least sweet Adam with gyves upon his wrists and my hunky Ivo with a ball
and chain and as for precious Tristan..."

     "...A large truncheon stuck up his....." began Adam.

     Charles raised his hands.  "....There is no need for indelicacies.
The poor boy looks pale as it is and such treatment would no doubt increase
his feeling of sickness....."

     "Charles!" said Ivo with mock sternness, "Have you been listening at
the door?"

     "No, of course not," he said archly, "But the window there is ajar and
I was admiring the border of autumnal plants..."

     "So you heard it all?" I asked, "Anything to add?"

     "I noticed I was not mentioned.  My feet are an elegant size eight.
And I do not possess any trainers."  He shook his head and the mane flowed.
"In any case I was safely in my bed when both tragedies occurred...."

     "Any witnesses?" asked Adam intent on getting his own back.

     "Dearest one," said Charles, "As you were asleep and snoring beside me
in your dreams you are quite aware there were no witnesses.  Anyway, I have
good news to impart."

     Adam was trying to work that one out.  I laughed.  "What's the good
news after that bad news for Adam?"

     "My dears, a momentous discovery.  I thought the crypt might be opened
for a small fee to selected members of the public as a tourist attraction
of a superior kind.  I and that little fiend were sorting through the
collected detritus of the centuries when naughty young Knott opened an old
wooden chest and inside was a very old leather box..  You would never guess
but there they were!"  His hands were flapped up and down as though
conducting a celestial orchestra.  "Glorious ones, we had chanced upon some
of the missing records of the Servants of the Chapel.  No wonder that old
fraud Dr Smart never dared refer to them.  Salacious gossip.  Nefarious
deeds.  Unspeakable acts.  Unfortunately much written in unreadable
scholarly hand.  Dear Dr Henson has arranged for me to spend a week with an
erudite don at Durham who has particular expertise in deciphering such
ancient writings and I shall come back equipped with skills sublime and
information unheard for centuries."

     "Anything to impart?  You must have been able to read something or you
wouldn't be so pleased," said Adam.

     "Adorable Adam you sound a mite piqued," said Charles, sitting down
next to him.  "Your discovery in that small room is yours to record in
whatever journal to which you wish to submit.  All I counsel is that you
put off that day until you have safely earned that degree you so richly
deserve.  There are persons who would not be pleased."  He held up a
finger.  "My spies tell me," He placed the finger over his lips, "there are
proposals being mooted to break the Pennefather Trust.  It would be costly
so to do but those behind it are determined and would not bother if the
College was ruined financially defending such an action.  Take my advice.
Lie low and wait."

     "I fully intend to do that.  I have revised certain opinions," said
Adam.  "The person I think you are referring to may be a brilliant
historian but I think he's a shit!"

     "Well, well!" exclaimed Ivo, "There's a turn up for the book.  Little
bro is seeing the light!"

     "Fuck you, Dickhead!" said Adam, "You know full well that kick in the
balls hasn't had any effect on him.  He's been after two of the First Years
already and we think he's scared one almost into giving him what he wants.
She's that nice Irish girl and Letty thinks she's terrified if she doesn't
comply she'll be out.  She won't say anything so they can't make a
complaint."

     "Can nothing be done?" I asked, "A discreet hint in the student rag?"

     "You have to be very careful," said Tris, "Law of libel is very
strict.
  He gets upset and the editor's up for the chop plus anything else to
cover damages.  Case a few years ago when someone in the national press
thought they had sniffed a scandal among the dons and the paper had to pay
up handsomely."

     Ivo laughed.  "It's been said that dons can only be sacked for
indecency and Masters of Colleges for gross indecency, and that's with a
hundred and forty-four boys, so fucking a young lady doesn't come under
either."  He turned to Adam.  "You offer him your bum and I'll take a
photograph."

     "Can't," said Tris, "That's incitement or entrapment, take your pick.
Anyway, knowing Adam he wouldn't worry and then he'd sell it over the
Internet to make a bit of money."

     "Traitor," said Adam, "But's that's true.  My bum would make me a
mint!"

     "Boys, boys!" said Charles, "Let's not get frivolous.  This is a very
serious matter and merits very serious concern.  I am so worried I wish to
be diverted.  Get your glad rags on for seven o'clock and we will all go to
the Garden House for dinner.  My treat.  Mother has been more than generous
again though I am afraid someone did mention to her next American clients
that Scottish baronial is all the rage.  Tristan, dear, pop up and see if
young Oliver is there.  I must not forget him though he is moping over
something at the moment."

     "I'll go," said Adam, getting up.  He was at the door before any more
was said.

     Of course, the evening was a riot.  Charles had managed to decipher a
long poorly written Latin description which he brought along.  It was an
account of how one of the dons in 1530 had managed to seduce every new
student by pretending that his dick - mentula - was the rope from St
Benedict's robe and that the holy outflowings from it would preserve them
from illness and especially the plague.  The scribe had used the word
'simulacrum' which could mean an emanation of some kind, or some holy
phantom, or even Holy Ghost.  We all giggled as we guessed the scribe meant
'spunk'.  Each lad had been blindfolded - oculos alicui obligare - and had
been told to kiss the rope's end or it's knot - nodus - which could also
mean knob!  He had only been found out as one of the lads - puer adolescens
- had older brothers - fratris major natu - who had taught him to suck them
off at nightfall - combibo sub noctem - so this lad had guessed and had
sucked the tutor dry - exsorbeo - and then complained he was as bitter as
herbs - gustus rutae - where his brothers had been as sweet as honey -
gustus mulsum.  All ended happily as the lad taught all his fellow students
so that the tutor and he had their way with all and sundry from the next
stage, up the rear - a tergo - so nothing was sacred or safe from a stiff
prick - praeterea sanctum nihil est neque ab inguine tutum.  But, all were
happy and the Servant of the Chapel prospered as he knew all the secrets of
the hidden lusts - inclusas eius libidines.

     Of course, we asked Charles if he knew of all the hidden lusts at
present and as he'd had the best part of a bottle of wine he confided that
in his first year the two who then occupied Ivo and Adam's rooms were not
really brothers, but supplemented their incomes from grants by running
almost a male brothel and he was disturbed on numerous occasions by
students from other colleges wanting to know where the action was.  He
archly denied that he was no more than the Madame letting the clientele in
and he said it all fizzled out when one of the duo got the clap.  He then
announced that he had been asked to stage another extravaganza and had
chosen Boadicea, or Boudicca, as she should be known.  He looked at me.

     "Your little excursions into possible diversions has provided me with
ideas for the most agreeable tableau.  There will be a first rehearsal
tomorrow evening at eight.  I will require the use of your delightful room
as I require a piano introduction and I am sure you will be a willing
confederate."  He pointed at Tristan.  "You dearest one with the lovely
Toby and that delicious hunk Louie to partner you...."  He wagged his
finger and nodded.  "....You will be perfect as you are all tall, muscular
and blond."  Tris visibly preened himself.  Charles smiled.  "You will be
truly angelic Anglo-Saxons - non Angli, sed angeli - as dear Pope Gregory
said.  We shall have to use some blue colouring to create the
verisimilitude of woad-painted warriors."  Oh yes, Toby Barker was the
boatie Tristan had run with sometimes last year and had a formidable
physique and Louie was the Maths student I had found so helpful - a bright
boatie, to boot.

     "Then you...," he pointed at Ivo and Adam, "...will be captured Roman
legionnaires who will have to act as my noble steeds drawing my chariot as
other Romans have not only stolen my hand-maiden but my horses as well.
Mother has a friend who is very big in leather and has promised to help."
I looked at Tris and grinned, he did, too.  We knew people who were very
big in leather, too!  "There will have to be a little camouflage I am
sure."  Ivo and Adam exchanged bemused looks.  "You, my blue-eyed beauty,"
he pointed at Oliver, "You will be my charioteer.  A few touches of the
whip on the flanks of my fine stallions should elicit a few twitches of
those fine rumps and a round of applause from the assembly."  Ivo and
Adam's bemused looks turned to grins.  A touch of the whip?  He looked from
one to another of us seated round the table a smile played on his lips.  "I
have other ideas which I will impart in all good time."  He looked at me
and gave a more than salacious wink.  What that signified I didn't know.
"The performance is scheduled for Thursday the eighth of November.  There
will be a final rehearsal on the seventh, the day I return from Durham.
Your diaries will be free for both dates I am sure."

     There was no more discussion.  We had all been invited, no commanded,
to be in one of the famous or infamous revue items.  This would be my first
exposure to the Clarissa, aka Boudicca this time.  And I would be the
musical assistant!  But the wink?

     On Saturday Tris, Oliver and I went off to the Club.  No sooner had we
arrived and met up with Carlo and Dave in their usual booth than Adam came
breezing in.

     "Couldn't let you lot have all the fun," he said.  "Ivo's gone to a
party with 'Tory and Letty's gone up to London for the weekend."

     I was feeling flush so I bought all a round of scotches.  No wonder
Brad usually waved twenty-pound notes!  But, neither he nor Whippet were
there.  A new chap brought the drinks.  I turned to Carlo and Dave.
"Where's Bulgy-boy tonight?"

     "Addenbrooke's," said Dave, "Bit of bother last night, eh, Whippet?"

     "Yep, I'd better tell you because you can't be too careful."

     "What's that?" asked Tris.

     Carl looked around at us and we all bent forward as he began the
story.
  "Last night late, well this morning early really, Brian, that's Bulgy,
was just leaving, everyone else had gone.  A couple of guys were in the
doorway over the road and they grabbed him.  One kicked him in the balls,
but that had no effect because he was always padded up and wore a cup but
he fell over and cracked his head on the pavement.  That knocked him out
and the pair started giving him a kicking anyway but he was unconscious so
they got their dicks out and started pissing on him.  Just then Whippet
came out of the club - he'd been discussing things with Shawn one of the
owners - he saw what was happening, got on his mobile to his team, got out
his digital camera and took some flash photos of the pair.  They were
dazzled so he banged his cuffs on them, one to the other, gave a couple of
rabbit chops and they went down, too.

     "Shouldn't tell you this, but those two may not be in the baby-making
stakes in future because he put his boots in to quieten them down and left
on his bike just as our lot turned up.  Brian was taken off and he's OK,
just a bit concussed so they're keeping him in until Monday.  The pair are
in custody now.  They complained they were mugged but were shown photos of
them pissing on Brian and when searched had a bloke's wallet they'd nicked
when they'd mugged him earlier.  Tried to say Brian had solicited them but
we found their car then.  They'd done over a little store earlier as well
and that had a stack of ciggies in it.  They're singing like canaries now
and they're up before the Bench first thing Monday morning.  Brad and
Whippet are visiting a couple of their pals tonight and that should turn up
some interesting stuff, too."

     "Were you in the team?" asked Tris.

     Carlo grinned.  "How d'you think I know all this?  After I'd checked
Brian with the paramedics I helped the pair into the squad car.  No marks
but they've both got sore kidneys as well.  Couldn't hold their balls or
rub their backs as they were properly cuffed up then.  You should have
heard them moaning.  They're convinced it was another set of pond-life that
got them first.  They thought at least three had attacked them." He
laughed, "It was only Whippet, but you know how he's built!"

     "Only from a covered exterior," said Adam.  "Good for him.  Gave the
nasty buggers a taste of their own medicine."

     "Well, we've had our eye on them for some time," said Carl, "And from
what they were saying about the ones they thought might have bashed then
we've got evidence enough for a little raid this evening."

     "And Brian's OK?" Tris asked.

     "Yes," said Dave, "I saw him this afternoon just before I came off
duty.  A bit bruised but he's more upset about getting the piss out of his
new jacket he was wearing.  I took it to the cleaners for him and they said
it would be OK.  But he'll be out Monday and Shawn says he can have time
off if he wants and to come back when he feels like it."

     "Do you get much anti-gay trouble?" I asked Carl.

     "A bit, but it's mostly this sort preying on the language school
students.  You know, the youngsters who come over for a few weeks usually
during vacation times.  They're vulnerable and generally a bit naive.  Then
there are the ordinary foreign students. Quite a few muggings.  They tend
to leave the ordinary students alone - big, hairy and prone to violent
responses if provoked, eh, Adam?"

     "I may be big and I may be hairy in the right places but the only
violence I perpetrate is on the field, eh, Tris?"

     "Too true, you've got lovely hairy legs and you've got a bush like a
hearth-brush!  And you did tackle that wing quite solidly this afternoon.
That was when you weren't just standing around scratching your bollocks."

     Adam laughed.  "You wouldn't know.  You were bloody eyeing up their
scrum half, especially after his shorts were torn and his bum was hanging
out.  I saw you go in for a tackle!"  He turned to me.  "You want to watch
him, he'd have had that lad except he had those cycle short pants on
instead of a jockstrap...."

     "....I trust him," I said, interrupting the diatribe, "And it's time I
had a dance."  We were well into our second drink by now and I was looking
at Tris.  The beat of the music from the DJ's corner was getting to me.  I
felt incredibly horny and I wanted to be close to him.  I grabbed him, we
took off our shirts and we were on the floor, colliding with each other as
we tried to co-ordinate our movements with the beat.  We were dancing
really close amongst the others when I tapped Tris on the back.  "Don't
look now!"

     Of course he did, I did and everyone else did, too.  A beautifully
toned glistening torso had been revealed.  Adam had taken his shirt off,
too.  He was partnered by an equally toned glistening torso on a second lad
- Oliver.  They danced together as if they'd been doing it for ever.  Carlo
and Dave joined and the six of us circled the floor smiling at each other
and having the most wonderful time.

     "What's the betting....." began Tris, whispering in my ear.

     "...No bets," I replied, "Adam and Oliver"

     "Alpha and Omega," said Tris.

     I kissed his ear and we continued dancing for the rest of the evening,
stopping only for quick slurps at ever-refilling glasses.  We left at
midnight.  The other four still on the floor.

     Sunday morning there was a knock on my door.  Tris went to it and
beckoned the grinning pair in.  We had breakfast prepared and Tris enquired
whose idea it was for the oiled torsos.

     Adam almost blushed.  "My idea really," he confessed, "True I had an
itchy bollock so I bought some baby oil at Sainsbury's when I was stocking
up on grub.  Thought it might help."

     "You mean to say, my Aunt Sophie used to anoint your little nuts when
you were an infant?" I enquired.

     Adam laughed.  "Mum always rubbed it in whenever we had a bruise or an
itch.  I don't know if I had it rubbed in there when I was a baby but I
remembered having it on my leg at Infants' School and it was soothing."

     "I went to check what time we had to be in Chapel today as it's a
visiting preacher and there he was trying to put the stuff on his back,"
said Oliver.

     "So you'd planned to go to the Club, eh?" asked Tris.  Adam just
nodded.  "And the pair of you anointed each other and that nonchalant entry
of his was already arranged?"

     Both nodded and grinned.

     "And did you anoint his itchy balls?" I asked.

     Oliver produced that sweet smile.  "No, but I held them and felt them
last night....."

     ".....Stop it, Oliver, that's ours," said Adam.

     "No," said Oliver, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.  "It's
for all of us.  We talked for ages when we got back.  Adam slept with me
last night..."

     "....Ivo had 'Tory in our rooms," He looked across at me.  "I was
going to ask you if I could doss down on your settee...."

     "We slept together and I know I love Adam."  The smile broadened.  "I
don't care if Adam doesn't love me or if he needs to go with someone else,
I'll be there..."

     Adam was nodding and then suddenly burst into tears.  Oliver looked
startled, but Tris slipped round the table and hugged him.

     "Adam, we all love you," said Tris, "But I think you're not sure which
way you might be.  You know what it's like for both, don't you, and you
don't know which way your feelings need to settle.  Just follow your
instincts.  Oliver's just told you how he feels.  Both Marky and I know
what a loving person you are and what a powerful lover you are.  You've got
feelings for Whippet, too, haven't you?"  Adam sniffed and nodded.  "And it
wouldn't take much for you to got to bed with either Marky or me again?"

     Adam was really weeping now.  He flung his arms round Tris.  "I love
you Tris more than I dare say and the same for Mark.  I look at both of you
and I want to tell you..."  He shook his head, his eyes shedding tears.  "I
look at Whippet and imagine what it would be like to have those arms round
me and feel that body against mine,...."  He sniffed heavily.  "....and
last night with Oliver I wanted him so badly I couldn't help it we just lay
here and I......."  He burst into loud sobs.

     Oliver dropped to his knees and clasped Adam round his waist.  "You
gave me yourself.  It flooded all over me.  I was so happy.  I didn't even
have to touch you, then you took mine.  I've never had that done to me.
Your beautiful mouth.  I lay there and gave you all mine as well.  We lay
and kissed and I tasted me on your lips and tongue and I felt those lovely
balls where all yours came from.  I love you Adam...."

     It was my turn.  I went round and wiped his tears with my
handkerchief.
  I bent down and kissed him full on the lips.  His mouth opened and our
tongues touched.  It was an electric moment.  Tris reached down and
unzipped his jeans and undid his shirt buttons.  Oliver found his erect
penis peeping out above the waistband of his pants.  As Oliver sucked, Tris
kissed and licked his nipple and I caressed his tongue with mine.  Oliver
gasped as Adam came.  Four boys kissed and shared Adam's seed.

     "I'm not sure," said Adam when he surfaced.  "I want to get married.
I would love to have a family but when I see you and Whippet and Carlo and
Dave and some of those other lads I want to have that sort of love as
well."

     "There's love and there's fucking as you well know," said Tris.

     Adam looked at Tris.  "You know what happened between us in Italy was
love.  Real love."  Tris nodded.  "...And I've loved Oliver from the very
first day I saw him at school, but until last night I had never touched
him.  I ached to hold him from that day until last night.  That dance then
was the most wonderful....."  He stopped and he looked starry-eyed.

     Oliver kissed his cheek.  "I've loved you Adam from that first day
when you came into the room where all us young-'uns were.  You smiled.  I
melted.  I wanted you to be my big brother.  I didn't know about love then.
I told Tris and Mark about all the times I wanked with my friends.  What I
didn't tell them was I thought of you every time, wishing you could be
standing by me."  He kissed him again.  "I used to watch you when you
showered with us.  I tossed myself off in bed every night wishing you were
beside me.....  ......You know I love you."

     "I do, Oliver," said Adam, shaking his head.  "I have to sort myself
out, though.  I don't want it to be just getting my rocks off.  I don't
know.  I'm so confused.  Please, I really need help.  Don't tell Ivo, he'll
only tease me."

     Tris stroked his head.  "Adam, my love, I don't think Ivo will tease
you or say anything.  He's your brother and I'm sure he's read the signals.
Mark and I knew last night.  He must have seen how you've been looking at
Oliver and he must have known it wasn't just altruism on your part taking
all those youngsters for runs."

     Adam smiled.  "I did like taking those kids for their cross-country,
but I also wanted to be with Oliver.  Yes, I think Ivo knows and he'll
understand.  He's been inquisitive, hasn't he Marky?"  I nodded.  "And he
told me that Tris had opened his eyes and his mind to what love between two
males could be.  No, I'm not afraid of what Ivo might say, it's me.  I'm
the one who's a bit more than confused."

     We left it there.  We knew Adam needed support.  How could we give it?
He definitely didn't know which way to go.  Tris then told him straight
that he wasn't to keep Oliver dangling, as it were.  If he was bi then he
must declare it.  He wanted to have kids.  How would that equate with his
feelings for Oliver?  That morning in Chapel the visiting preacher took his
text from 1 John 3, 18: 'Let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in
deed and in trust'.  He said that love was the mainspring of any
relationship - there was a difference between agape - the holy love between
two people and eros - the sexual love.  People had the choice but the most
important thing in any relationship was being friends and knowing that the
relationship was stable through the commitment to the other, the important
elements were the deed of love and the trust involved..

     I looked over the rail of the organ loft.  Tris in the choir stalls,
in his surplice and robes looked up and smiled.  My two basses, Adam and
Oliver sat side by side, also surpliced, and I saw two hands slip together
and that clasp was the beginning of what I knew would be a life-long
friendship, if not a relationship.

To be Continued: