Date: Mon, 01 Jan 2007 20:25:29 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: 21
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
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend
Francis [Toad] Foster Mark's sexually rampant 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
Fiona McKenzie A Mathematical undergraduate with presence
Angus (Zack) McKenzie Her younger brother, a young man with panache
Brandon McKenzie Her even younger brother with protective instincts
Gordon Foster Father of Mark and Francis
Maria (Angelica Matteoli) Foster Mother of Mark and Francis
Mrs Caroline Foster Gordon's mother and pianist
21. The Rest of the Academic Year 2002
We had a couple of days more before we made our way back home from the
Carr's farm. Frankie and the Thugs were inseparable after the bananas and
the Boudicca's stallion pranks. He was even dressed up in jodhpurs, riding
boots and all and given some lessons in horsemanship. I pointed out he
could then talk knowledgeably to Shelley having experienced firm flesh
between his legs. He did admit he had a hard-on all the time as the
movement of the horse stimulated his nether regions and he had to clean his
teeth quite regularly after dismounting.
He also realised I was missing Tris terribly and, I think, that
holiday made an even closer bond between us as brothers. Although nothing
further sexual happened between us he insisted we slept in the nude and we
cuddled and caressed each other before falling to sleep. I said I was very
grateful for his company and we did have more little talks about how we
felt. There was no doubt that Frankie was straight, but, importantly, he
was secure enough to open his heart to his gay brother. He did admit there
were times when he could imagine loving another male. But then, he said,
he wasn't sure about love... ...Jack's girls on the computer weren't love
objects, just images to get the juices flowing more readily. I pointed out
he didn't seem to need much external stimulation to get his juices on the
go. 'What were you like at sixteen, ancient one?' was his response. As we
were in bed at the time I hugged him to me. 'Coming three times a day,
probably once or twice with Tris and the rest thinking about him'. I
expected 'Only three times?' but he nuzzled me and said with feeling,
'Lucky bugger - I just have me'. He thrust his ever-present erection at me
with several jerks of his hips, 'Monotonous - but nice!'.
Tris and his family arrived back on the last Sunday of the year and
Auntie Dilys had arranged a big party for family, friends and neighbours on
New Year's Eve which was the next day. Us three boys were roped in for bar
duties and seeing everyone was plentifully supplied with drink. Shelley
was all simpers as she'd invited a 'boyfriend!!!'. He was in the same Form
as Frankie but wasn't one of his intimates. A really sporty type with
muscles coming out of his ears -"and the smallest dick" as Frankie
whispered as Tris and I were loading up trays of glasses. "Jealous?" I
whispered, not referring to the diminutive dick but to the fact Shelley was
flaunting her catch. "Fuck off," he replied with the best Toad sneer of a
lifetime, "She's welcome!" Tris was amused.
That day there had been a phone-call from Fiona. Would we, i.e.,
Tris, Frankie and me, like to visit Arkley for lunch on Thursday. This
would mean a tube train journey to High Barnet and she would fetch us by
car. Lucky! She'd learned to drive during the summer. She said the boys,
Zack and Brandon, were all keyed up, especially to meet Frankie whose e-
mails had sorted out several of Brandon's problems with some computer game.
I had told Tris about Zack and he said he would help to manoeuvre him
in my direction if he needed to talk more. This became possible as after a
very good and substantial lunch I went with Zack to Arkley Church where I
played the organ and had a long talk to him before the others arrived with
Commander McKenzie who had just arrived back from Scotland Yard.
Zack was very open about his feelings. He said he'd really now
decided he was fully gay and I was able to tell him more about Tris and me.
Perhaps he should see if his gaydar was working. "I think I know who," he
said, smiling, "I think he may have guessed about me." I said he should be
careful. He smiled. "I think I'll be OK."
Commander McKenzie came up to the organ console where I was sitting
and the others had arranged themselves in the pews. He looked at Zack who
smiled at him.
"Bit more relaxed, eh?" he said to his son before he shook hands with
me. I could see where the boys got their good looks and physique from.
"Thanks," was the first thing he said to me. We then discussed the organ
and St Mark's and Dude while the others sat patiently talking to each
other. I said he was the first old Pennefather Scholar I had met. "Read
Music in my first year then switched to History and Political Science," he
said, "So I played the organ for pleasure. Let's hear you."
Zack turned the pages as I played Bach's Fugue in g minor followed by
his Prelude and fugue in e minor, mainly as they followed each other in the
book. Two good tuneful pieces so suited to the organ. Commander McKenzie
was most complimentary, so I said it was his turn. He smiled and turned
the page and shook his head. It was the Prelude and fugue in c minor -
starting off with the terrific pedal solo. "Need my organ shoes for that,"
he said. He turned to the first work in the book - the Allabreve. He
played it with perfection with his ordinary shoes.
We went back to the house and while the others still chatted amongst
themselves I sat with Zack and his father and Zack was able to tell his Dad
he was now sure and that I'd helped him just like Dude had. He though it
was time to tell his brother and sister. Would Tris and I sit with him
while he told them. His father smiled and nodded. At tea-time we all sat
round the big table with Zack between Tris and me. Very clearly he said he
had an announcement to make. It was a bit like when I told Frankie and he
said he already knew. Brandon stood up. "On behalf of my sister and me,
we are fully aware, there is no need for Zack to say anything. He's our
brother and we love him and respect him now and for ever." Fiona said
"Hear, Hear".
Zack looked dumbfounded. Quite without thinking both Tris and I
grasped one of his hands each and squeezed. I heard Tris say quietly,
"You're OK, Zack. Give us a shout if you ever need."
We were rather taken aback by the next happening. Frankie turned to
Brandon and hugged him. "If your brother's like mine you won't regret
anything." My, my, praise indeed from my brother.
Fiona came round and hugged her brother, then Tris and me.
"Thanks...," she said to me with a dig in the arm for Zack, "...For sorting
him out. About time. I thought choosing a printer took rather a long
time."
Frankie and Brandon came round and there were more brotherly and
friendly hugs. "We'll be at St Mark's together, Zack," Frankie said
confidently, "That is, if we get places. But if these two could, it
shouldn't be too difficult."
'These two' gave him a dig in the ribs each. "At least we're there,"
said Tris, "And what about his sister?"
All in all, a very happy day. On the way back on the tube train
Frankie said he was sorry he didn't have much time to talk to Zack. We
suggested they met up in London, even with Brandon tagging on. All Frankie
would say as he laughed was, "That Brandon, he's a character!"
So the vacation ended and we were back to Cambridge. My second term
and I had plenty to do. Both Tris and I went up a few days early - he to
consult the Library - me to sort out the Chapel music duties for the term
as Matt had 'flu and I couldn't get hold of Drew and the Chaplain had gone
off to advise on something in Africa over Christmas. Also, I had to see
the Bursar about arrangements for the recital Mum was giving. It wasn't
going to be Mum's recital. Grandma Foster had come up to stay overnight as
she was going to see her elderly cousin in Birmingham over the New Year.
As she and Frankie were belting out a duet on the grand in the front room a
plan was being hatched. Why not a 'Foster Family and Friends' recital?
Mum had already arranged with Tris that they would sing a soprano and tenor
duet. I was to accompany that on the piano. Gran was determined to come
so she and Frankie could play their favourite pieces - a couple of Spanish
Dances by Moszkowski. That meant Dad had to play, with either me or Gran
accompanying him, and as well as the final Mendelssohn excerpt I would
definitely have to contribute something on the organ. That's Grans for
you! We would have to see!
I was so busy those first few days I decided 'we' couldn't go to the
Club on Friday evening. 'We' included Oliver who had materialised as well
a week early as he said he wanted quiet as he was writing something. In
fact Charles banged on the door about eight o'clock and took pity on three
slaving studious students and took us to a small restaurant where we were
plied with good food and copious questions about Christmas. He'd flown out
to Venice and lived it up there visiting 'the ancestral home' as he put it.
I felt very sorry for him because, although he said he'd had a wonderful
time, he'd spent Christmas Day by himself in some sumptuous hotel and we'd
had a riotous time with our extended family. "Dears," he said, "There's no
better place. Death in Venice would be my own glorious desire when the
time comes."
Oliver rather spoilt that sentiment by remarking that he'd been in
Venice during August in the heat and you could die from the smell of the
drains.
We told Charles about the visit to Oliver's Grandfather. I asked if
he knew if Mr Pennefather had somewhere where he might have developed the
photographs, or even when the array of organ stops had been put up in the
main room. He put his fork down and picked up his glass of wine.
"My dears, I know of nowhere in the College where a suitable room
might be unless it was a scullery in the buttery, but that would be in
constant use. The kitchen in the set was refurbished in 1970 and before
that all it held was a butler sink and a gas range which was most
unreliable. There was a wooden pantry to keep things cool and that was
removed to make the kitchen bigger. I am aware of these details as I have
read the caustic comments of the Servant of the Chapel at the time as he
was much exercised as his demands for like treatment were rebuffed. His
successor was better treated and my present kitchen was in place by 1974."
He paused and took a sip from his wine glass. He wrinkled his nose.
Whether at the taste of the wine, or in cogitation, I didn't know. "As far
as the stop knobs are concerned there is a gap in the sequence of log books
between 1890 and 1914. The Chaplain is of the opinion that the College was
worried in case records might be destroyed during that War so everything,
books, manuscripts and so on were placed in the crypt. He wonders if they
were inadvertently destroyed when the last War began and more things were
placed in the crypt for safe-keeping. We can live in hope that they may
turn up. Some don may have taken them to look after and they are in
someone's loft or cellar in Cambridge. Things appear!"
Oh, so we were no nearer finding where Augustus might have had his
studio. Studio? That word suggested an outside establishment or a
well-stocked set-up in College. Where? Then the stop-knobs. Just a
whimsy? He was fond of jokes and puns. Something to amuse his visitors?
It was a strange whimsy. Almost calculated in some way. But when and why?
But puzzles, too much work, or whatever, Saturday night was different,
'we' went to the Club. That is, Tris, Oliver and I. On arrival we had a
good look round to see 'if there was any new talent' according to Tris who
got a thump from me for suggesting such a thing. As we turned the corner
to find our usual tucked-away booth there gathered were Brad, Whippet and
Carl with a fourth leather-clad young man. Very smart in cap, shiny jacket
with a leather fringe, jeans, chaps and boots, fully on display. Whippet
and he were in deep conversation with Brad and Carl looking on and a
grinning Davy hovering. It took a few seconds to recognise the new man -
it was Adam! Wow! He did look the part and the others were laughing at
our astonishment.
"Like the new look, eh lads?" asked Brad, signalling to Bulgy-Boy for
the usual. "When are we going to get the rest of you kitted out like
proper men?"
"We could always try," I said, looking at Tris who was staring with
unalloyed adoration at a transformed Adam. "Down, Fido," I said, "If he
wants to dance I'll let you but no fingering his tassels...."
Brad roared with laughter and Adam stood up. "My pleasure, young
sir," he said to Tris, "Get your shirt off and rub yourself against me,
cowboy!"
They were off. The pounding music was just right for two lithe and
energetic dancers. Oliver grabbed Whippet, and Carlo and Dave were soon on
the floor, too. I sat and told Brad about meeting his old boss and how
Zack had come out to the family. I said he'd sent a couple of e-mails
since saying he would see if the lad in his form at school was at all
interested. I also told him about Frankie and what he'd done and the
reprisals. I had a few of the photographs with me and we both laughed at
the 'horse' and the huntsmen.
"I can't make out my lad at the moment," he said, "He keeps boasting
about all the women he's had but I've never seen any and he goes about with
that lad Danny's brother who seems a real tosser. At least he's doing some
studying and he seems interested enough in that. Who'd be a father?"
"I doubt if I will be," I said, "And I don't suppose it gets any
easier even when they're old enough to leave home!"
He laughed. "And you're eighteen and sounding forty-eight!"
Adam came in for a bit of ribbing when he and Tris had exhausted
themselves dancing. He wasn't fazed, in fact he really did look great. He
took off his cap - or really, Whippet's spare one - to show us the badge on
the front. It was the St Mark's crest and Whippet said it was probably an
old blazer button and he'd found it on a stall at a car-boot sale he was
monitoring for stolen or counterfeit goods. I asked Adam if Ivo knew of
his transformation. He grinned and said not unless we told him he was
enjoying himself.
It must have been at least half past eleven when Gabe appeared with
his pal Lorenzo. He didn't recognise Adam at first then pronounced him
'dinky-di' which we found was Aussie for 'authentic'. He said Josh was
well away with his female conquest, Carry, and had stayed with her family
over Christmas and New Year. "Poor bugger could hardly walk," he averred,
"Bloody sheila had him shagging her non-stop I thought. Actually, poor
fucker had fallen off his bloody horse at the Hunt on Boxing Day." He
laughed. "Some anti-fucker got a bloody kick in the crutch for doing it.
He blew a bloody whistle and up went the hoss and off came Josh and Josh
booted the bastard fair dinkum."
It turned out Gabe had been with Lorenzo at his home for the holiday
and when I went to the pissoir he lumbered in behind me. "Had a bonza
time," he said, "Christ Almighty, I could hardly bloody walk meself after
three days of Lo's shagging me. Fucking bonza!" Gabe must have had a
skinful before he came to the Club as I left him still pissing and
repeating "Fucking bonza!".
Adam must have told Ivo himself about the leather outfit. He'd gone
off after the evening at the Club on the back of Whippet's motor-bike so we
assumed he'd left his ordinary clothes at Whippet's flat. Of course, this
was a new bone of contention. It was almost as if Ivo was jealous he
hadn't been included. Perhaps he was, but he'd been indulging himself in
another way with 'Tory. All this was repeated ad nauseam before, during
and after our daily runs. I was improving and Oliver and I went 'the extra
hedge' as he put it after we had gauged we were ready for the longer
distance. It meant I now ran past the place where Babyballs Bryce had met
his end. Yes, in the cold wetness of a January morning the ditch looked
most dank and sinister.
On the next Saturday I had a busy schedule so couldn't take up Adam's
offer of a ride to Peterborough to the Register Office where he was going
to look for the birth announcement. He had already told me he'd gone
through the old Alumni records and there were three ADs around at the time.
He would try to find out a bit more to see if any were old Augustus's
friend - or enemy. He also had to look up the Peterborough papers as well
about Lloyd George as Simon was sure he'd ranted there as well. I said
Oliver would probably like a ride as he was well ahead with his work and
had said whatever he had been writing had turned out well.
So, I had a lecture, a quick coffee with Fiona and Dina while we did
the problems on vector analysis between us, a snatched lunch then two hours
having a lesson with Lewis on the organ at his College. I was in my rooms
just after four thinking that Tris would be back soon, probably with Ivo,
as they were playing against another College's 9th team or thereabouts.
They always made out their team were the pits though they generally won!
In preparation I'd been to the cake-shop and stocked up with goodies as
they would be starving. I'd just got the kettle on when they arrived.
Tris didn't look too bad but Ivo had a bruised cheek and insisted on
lowering his jeans to show where some poxy bastard had raked his leg with
his studs after Ivo had tackled one of the fucker's team-mates. Ivo was
not in a good mood! He was a bit better with a mug of tea and two pastries
on a plate in the other hand.
Just at that moment his mobile rang and simultaneously there was a
thump on the door. I went to see who it was and heard Ivo in the
background shout "What!!". It was Jason at the door looking flustered and
worried.
"Mr Foster, is Mr Carr here?" he asked, "There's been an accident!"
He couldn't keep up the niceties. "Adam and Oliver are in Addenbrookes -
there's been a fire!"
I thought immediately they'd had a motorbike accident. But, no.
"Don't know much but they were at Mr Finch-Hampton's and the garage
was on fire. I've called a taxi."
Good old Jason. Efficient as ever. Ivo came hurrying through.
"That was Oliver. They seem OK but they're at Addenbrookes."
Jason told him a taxi was on the way. The three of us rushed out
leaving Jason with six delectable pastries and a pot of tea. He seemed
undecided whether to remain or to return to the Porter's Lodge for more
information.
The taxi was waiting at the back gate. On the way we mulled over what
might have happened.
"Probably the silly fool...," said Ivo, meaning Adam, "...overfilled
the tank and the petrol caught fire."
"Need a spark or a flame," said Tris, "Neither of them smoke so it
couldn't have been that."
"We don't know where the fire was, do we? Other than a garage. And
he's got two garages so Frankie told me," I said.
In the end we just sat glumly as the taxi trundled with the traffic
round the outskirts of Cambridge. At the hospital the other two rushed off
while I paid the taxi-driver who was most sympathetic and hoped nothing was
too awful. I was spared 'had six dead bodies on the back seat last week'
or likewise. The receptionist knew I was also looking for the pair when I
got to the desk and pointed me towards A & E.
Oliver and Adam were lying on beds in separate cubicles. Ivo was
talking to Adam who looked quite dazed and Tris was in with Oliver who was
coherent but shocked. I went into his cubicle. He gave me a wry smile.
"Just saying to Tris I've never seen anything like it. Flames and
then it exploded." he said quickly shaking his head. His fair hair was
quite blackened with soot or debris and he had smudges on his face and the
windcheater he was wearing. "I pulled Adam away just in time. He was
trying to get in but the flames were too intense."
"Slow down, old mate," said Tris putting out a hand and taking hold of
a rather black paw, "Take your time. Just lie there. We're here." I saw
Oliver grip Tris's hand. It seemed to relax him a bit.
We stood and he lay in silence for a couple of minutes. He had his
eyes closed. "Is Adam OK?" he asked quietly.
I left the cubicle and parted the curtain next door. A doctor and
nurse were there as well as Ivo who saw me and smiled and nodded. I gave
him a thumb's up and went back to the other cubicle. "He looks OK," I
said, "Ivo's with him and there's a doctor there checking him over."
Oliver smiled. "He was very brave."
We were then disturbed by the curtain being pulled back and who should
appear but Batman with a large male nurse. Both looked rather grim.
"Hello, Constable," I said, "What's happened?"
He beckoned us out leaving Oliver with the male nurse. "What do you
know?" he asked.
"Nothing much," said Tris, "We heard there had been a fire and Adam
and Oliver were in here. Oliver's managed to say Adam was very brave and
he pulled him away before something happened. I think he said something
exploded."
"Do you know why they were there?"
"You mean at Mr Finch-Hampton's I suppose?" I said. He nodded. I
continued. "You know Adam keeps the bike there, and he and Oliver were
going to Peterborough this morning to do some research and I assume this
happened when they returned."
He nodded. He drew out a notebook. "At three thirty two Sergeant
Woolpit received a mobile phone call from Oliver Jensen saying there was a
fire at Hampton House. At three thirty-three our control centre received a
call from Oliver Jensen saying the same. A fire engine and ambulance were
dispatched. They arrived approximately five minutes later just as the
garage exploded. We assume a car and petrol were involved."
At that moment his mobile rang. He listened attentively and his face
looked even grimmer. "Yes, Sir," he said, "I have both witnesses here plus
their friends who were not involved. May I tell them?" There was a
further short burst too faint to overhear. "Yes, Sir," he said and
switched the mobile off.
"That was Mr Wolstencroft, he will be here soon," he said. "There has
been a fatality. When the firemen got the fire under control they saw
there was a body in the car. A sports car."
"Mr Finch-Hampton?" I asked very quietly.
The Constable shook his head. "We don't know yet. There will have to
be tests."
"A sports car? That was in the other garage," I said, remembering
something. The constable looked at me quizzically. "Yes, my brother told
me. Adam took him for a ride when he was here last term and being nosy he
was snooping about while Adam was putting the bike away in the main garage,
I suppose. He said the windows were dirty but he thought it was a red car
with a sheet over its bonnet. A red sports car."
"You didn't see it yourself?"
I shook my head. "No..."
"...I haven't either," said Tris, "I saw the other garage but I didn't
investigate. Adam said he'd never seen Mr Finch-Hampton driving the car
which he said was in there. He didn't seem to know what sort it was
although he'd seen Mr Finch-Hampton go into the garage some time or other.
I think Adam said he only used the Merc in the garage where the bike was
kept."
At last Constable Bachman smiled. "Thanks. I'd better have a chat to
Mr Carr. Don't get Mr Jensen talking. Wait for me as I expect Mr
Wolstencroft and Sergeant Woolpit will be here soon."
We found two chairs and sat either side of Oliver. He didn't want to
talk and we kept silent and heard the low murmurs from the other cubicle.
It wasn't long before the familiar face of Sergeant Woolpit appeared round
the curtain. I silently offered him my chair and he sat by Oliver and
began questioning him noting down what was said in a notebook.
We heard that the pair returned from Peterborough about half-past
three just as it was getting a bit dark. Oliver had noticed someone
cycling out of the drive of the house when they were about two hundred
yards away and thought it might be a paper-boy as he had a bag slung over
his back. He'd noted he was wearing the usual adolescent rig of grey
sweatshirt top and bottoms and had the hood pulled up. Just as they got
into the drive they both noticed the other garage had smoke coming out of a
broken window. As they got off the bike Adam had chucked his mobile at
Oliver with the instruction to ring for the Fire Brigade. Oliver saw that
Whippet's number was first on the list so had phoned him straight away as
he rushed in the back-door of the house which was open. He had found a
phone in the kitchen and had dialled 999 there. He'd come out to find the
garage well alight with flames coming out of the roof and Adam desperately
trying to open the side door because he'd shouted he thought someone was in
there. He'd seen two flashes through the broken window and with great
presence of mind had grabbed Adam and dragged him away. They had gone no
more than four or five yards when the garage exploded showering them with
soot and debris. They heard the fire engine bell and had rushed back even
further as the flames were really intense. There was another huge
explosion which a fireman had said was probably a small gas canister. The
ambulance arrived and they were carted off.
"Very succinct and very informative," said the Sergeant.
"Had time to think about it," said Oliver. "Is Adam OK?"
"I think so," he said, "I came in here first as a nurse was bandaging
one of his hands. The Constable's there keeping watch. He smiled at me so
I think he recognised me. It shows he's still got a few brains left."
I had the greatest urge to ask if that was after having them just
about shagged out the last weekend. Adam had not appeared for the morning
service on Sunday! And he had not been forthcoming with an excuse other
than a sly smile.
"I won't be interviewing him. I'll leave that to the DCI." Of
course.
If anything came out about their relationship it would be embarrassing,
if not difficult, for both. "We'll all be too busy tonight for anything."
He shook his head. "Funny business."
Yes. I'd already thought that. It was observant of Oliver to have
noted 'the paperboy'. That description matched another. I would ask
Whippet if he'd made the connection, too. But we'd better hear about
Adam's recollections as well.
The DCI turned up about five minutes later and greeted us but then
went immediately into Adam's cubicle. We heard a 'Oh, no!' from Adam. He
must have been told about the body. Was it Simon's? Why would anyone want
to destroy the car? The thought was rather immense: or him? College
politics? College enmities? The Chapel? The Pennefather Bequest?
Anything else? A spurned or wronged female? The list seemed endless. Any
clues? The red car. A thought jangled. Why did he never drive it? It
looked covered and dusty - at least the garage windows were. Red car. Red
paint. Oh, no!! An accident. How old was the car? I would have to put
my thoughts to Mr Wolstencroft or to Sergeant Woolpit. But who would it
involve?
A doctor came in a few minutes later and we went out while he examined
Oliver. He came out about five minutes later.
"I think your friend is OK," he said, "He's a bit shocked with the
events but the Sergeant said you can take him back to College when we've
signed him out."
"What about Mr Carr?" asked Tris.
"He's got a burn on his hand and he's probably a bit singed but the
motorcycle leathers stopped him from being too harmed. We'll let him home
if the DCI lets us."
"You know Mr Wolstencroft, then?" Tris asked.
"Oh yes, very well. There's often trouble here at the weekends," he
said very seriously. "We had a stabbing in last Friday. Drugs. Chap
died." He flapped his hands very much like Charles. "Didn't even make the
front page of the local paper."
I thought. "Isn't there an evening paper here?"
The doctor looked at me, "Yes. The Cambridge Evening News. Why?"
"Oh," I said, "Oliver thought he saw a paper-boy before the fire."
The doctor shook his head. "I doubt it. I live in the road along by
where this happened and no-one delivers papers there on a Saturday
afternoon. I know that because our newsagent has difficulty finding kids
to deliver even in the mornings." He laughed. "Lads these days don't seem
to want pocket-money or they prefer their beds." I looked at his name tag.
'Dr Tim Truscott'.
The DCI emerged from the other cubicle. He looked at us. "He's all
yours. Brave lad. I'll have to come to the College for more statements."
"There was a body?" asked Tris.
The DCI nodded. "And before you, my lawyer friend asks, no, we don't
know who it is and I would suggest you don't mention it around until we do
know. But...." He left the sentence hanging but the implication of the
identity of the victim was there.
"Just one thing," I said. "Oliver said he thought he saw a paper-boy
coming out of the drive. Grey sweat-shirt and so on. Dr Truscott just
said they don't have papers delivered on a Saturday afternoon in that road.
I just wondered."
Mr Wolstencroft smiled. "Thanks for telling me that. That'll save a
lot of time I can ask him now. You made the connection?"
I nodded. Paper-boy - small - grey - Brinley and Bryce. Perhaps
nothing but the DCI had seen my reasoning.
We gathered up a rather stunned Adam and a rather more awake Oliver
and were ferried back to College by Police car. There was a welcoming
committee in the Porter's Lodge. Old Albert, Jason, the Chaplain and
Charles, in order of precedence!
Charles took over.
"My dears, you must all go to Mark's abode. I have arranged a slight
repast for you and Jason dear will serve you. Dr Henson, I hope you will
accompany us."
Solemn though the occasion was I couldn't help exchanging a grin with
the Chaplain. On the way to my set I explained to him what seemed to have
happened. He just nodded. Although I hadn't mentioned names he then said,
"Mr Finch-Hampton isn't in his rooms here."
He talked for a few moments to both Oliver and Adam and had quite a
calming effect. He also said if needed just contact him as his wife was a
trained nurse.
Oliver went to the bathroom first and I lent him some clothes as his
were pretty dirty and smelt of smoke and something rather pungent. Ivo
went with Adam next and he at last emerged wearing my cargoes and a new
sweatshirt. While they were away and the others were being fussed over by
Charles assisted by a very attentive Jason I remembered the arrangements
for the evening which would have to be cancelled.
I went to my study and retrieved my mobile which, stupidly, I rarely
carried. I phoned the Prof's number as we'd promised to meet up with Barry
at the Club at ten-thirty. Jacob van Zyl answered. I explained that we
would have to cancel. I said very briefly why, just saying that there had
been a fire at the place where Adam parked his bike and he had a burned
hand. He said he was sorry to hear that, he hoped he was OK and Barry
would be disappointed. They'd just finished their evening meal. Just him,
Pauli and Barry as James and Paul had gone up to London to Covent Garden.
The son of a friend of James was dancing there in the ballet. When were we
all going to come again for food and more entertainment? When we're
invited, I said. Anytime, he laughed and called out "Barry". Barry said
not to worry he understood and would beat the others at three-handed poker
instead. I said I would call him about next week-end.
Next morning it was my turn to play at the eleven o'clock service.
Adam and Oliver were there in the choir as if nothing had happened. The
Chaplain prayed for all who had suffered misfortune during the week and I'm
sure looked across to where the pair were standing side by side in robes
and surplices. I also noted a furtive figure scuttle out as soon as the
service ended.
No sooner than the group of us had assembled in my set for a chat
after the coffee and biscuits in the Chapel than Jason rapped on the door.
"Detective Chief Inspector Wolstencroft to see Mr Carr and Mr Jensen." He
stood by the door as the DCI entered.
"Good," he said, "You are all here. Please sit down. I have a formal
announcement to make and then I would ask you all to remain while my
colleagues take statements." It sounded ominous. "I have to inform you
that the body of Mr Finch-Hampton was found in the remains of the garage.
He was provisionally identified by a particular birthmark on his leg."
There was a concerted gasp and poor Adam was held tight by his brother. "I
have informed the Master and he has given me permission to interview you in
the College. You may have the Chaplain present if you wish."
I saw Tris nod at Adam. "I would prefer that," said Adam.
Jason was dispatched to the Chaplain's house. He arrived very shortly
after with Sergeant Woolpit and Constable Bachman in tow. The DCI used my
study and took Adam in there with the Chaplain. I sat and listened while
the Sergeant quizzed Oliver, and Ivo and Tris were asked questions by the
constable. All was most formal and from the looks between the three
policeman when they had finished all the stories tallied. I still had
something to say and I wanted to say it so all could hear as it might
involve other friends and others who were very important.
"Mr Wolstencroft," I said when all were back in the room, "I would
like to ask and also tell you something." They all sat down again but I
remained standing. "I have thought long and hard about this. May I ask
something first? Was the car red? Did it have signs of any damage?"
The DCI nodded. "Yes the car was a sports model in a special shade of
red. It also had a damaged front nearside wheel arch."
"Thank you," I said, plucking up courage to continue. "This is a
theory but it links with something else." I saw Tris nodding, he'd
realised what I was going to say. "A friend, Mr van Zyl, was injured in an
accident about four years ago. He says he remembers nothing about it
except for something red. There was red paint left on his car and I assume
the police will have a record of it." The DCI nodded. "I wonder if the
accident was caused by whoever was driving that sports car. It seems odd
that the car has been garaged and not used."
The DCI had his chin in his hand. He stroked it and nodded again.
"We will check on that. As you know I am acquainted with Mr van Zyl and I
have wondered about that accident. It happened just before I moved here
but I heard about it as Mr van Zyl is a very respected solicitor and has
prosecuted for us a number of times. Give me a few moments." He went back
to my study.
The Chaplain came over to me while a buzz of conversation started.
"This raises all sorts of other issues. If you are right a friend of Mr
van Zyl's may have found out about the car. And this will involve the
College again."
"Professor Tanner?" I said, "That's why I said I'd thought about it
long and hard. >From what Mr van Zyl told me last night no one there was
involved." I then told the Chaplain quite openly that we were going to
take Barry Hall to a club - I didn't mention which one - as he was staying
with and looking after Mr van Zyl. We'd cancelled the arrangements and I
went on to say what I'd been told. The Chaplain nodded and said it seemed
satisfactory but leave the rest to the DCI.
The DCI came back in. "I've asked for the file on the accident to be
on my desk as soon as I get back. I'm sorry we had to break such tragic
news but we have to do our duty. I would like to commend Adam on his
attempt at a rescue but it would have been fruitless. I'll ask you all to
sign the statements tomorrow when typed up." He smiled at me. "Thanks for
what you said. It will be treated confidentially and speedily. I trust
no-one will communicate any of this until an official announcement is
made." A clear hint to me not to phone Jacob!
I wasn't finished. "When Adam and Oliver got undressed and had a
shower here their clothes smelled of smoke but there was something else as
well. I'll get them."
I went through to the bedroom where his leathers and jeans were
bundled up in a corner and Oliver's windcheater was under them. I sniffed.
Yes there was definitely smoke and something else. I gave the bundle to
the DCI who sniffed as well.
"Something chemical," he said. "May I take them?"
Adam nodded and Oliver looked a bit concerned, but he nodded, too. I
found a large black plastic bag and they were bundled in after the pockets
were emptied. Oliver's concern was because his wallet was in his
windcheater. The DCI labelled the bag and gave Adam and Oliver receipts.
The next week was hectic. I was rather dreading seeing Professor
Tanner for my tutorial on Monday afternoon. He said he'd already been
interviewed that morning and he was glad I'd said what I did. It might
clear up the mystery of the crash.
On Wednesday afternoon, just as I was going to the Chapel to practice,
the Sergeant came to my set. He wasn't all smiles but happy. "Just to let
you know you're theory has proved correct. The paint samples matched up.
It must have been the driver of that car who caused the accident. We've
found that Mr Finch-Hampton took delivery of the car two days before the
accident. There was only a hundred miles or so on the clock so he could
only have been to about Huntingdon and back with the delivery mileage. It
fits but it's still circumstantial. Mr van Zyl could have a claim against
the estate if anything was proved. The DCI says thanks about that and
noting the smell on the clothes. The analysis showed it was a chemical
they call an accelerant. Some must have been in the debris when the garage
exploded. They were both very lucky. Mr Wolstencroft will be writing to
the Master praising your observation. He said if you want a job when
you're finished here he'll recommend you. You'd look good in uniform."
"I might try leather first," I said, "You've converted Adam."
He did laugh then. "See you Saturday all being well."
All seemed resolved by the weekend except for a couple of things. The
identity of the grey-clad figure and, also, whoever set the fire must know
a good deal about chemical reactions. Although we didn't discuss it I knew
the policemen had made the same deductions as I had. There was a
connection between the three deaths. It was also something to do with the
College. I had ideas but no proof. I didn't even share them with Tris.
Adam was too stunned to talk much. The Chaplain took over as his
tutor with the old don from the other college who had commended his essay.
He was rather gratified over one thing. The three essays he'd had to write
'in strict order' were on Mr Finch-Hampton's desk ready for the next
tutorial. They were all graded alpha.
Even Charles was subdued. He didn't mention 'that man' and was very
helpful in arranging the funeral service to be held in the Chapel and
shepherded the family members in and out bearing his wand of office. Both
Matt and I played. Drew didn't even attend. It was very sombre and the
Chapel was crowded. Mainly, I thought, with gawpers as the death had hit
the headlines later in the week. The Master gave the Homily and didn't
mention the dissension caused directly, but referred only to Mr
Finch-Hampton's trenchant views and the excellence of his teaching. I
didn't notice any tears in the congregation, even among the half dozen of
his family who attended. I thought that at least the Chapel might be safe
for a while until someone else raised objections.
Only Adam and Ivo went to the inquest. 'Death by person or persons
unknown' was the verdict. Adam was commended by the coroner for his
bravery in trying to get through the door and for his initiative in getting
Oliver to phone. The Chief Fire Officer had reported on that and said even
if the Fire Brigade had got there even sooner nothing could have been done.
There was clear evidence that a chemical had been added to petrol and would
have accounted for the blazing inferno. Mr Wolstencroft in his evidence
said that they had found a brick and the remains of a canister in the
garage. The brick had been used to break the window and the canister was
too buckled and burnt to say what the chemical had been but the analysis of
samples from Adam's leather jacket suggested that at least an inflammable
solvent had been also involved.
The 'paper-boy' wasn't mentioned but Whippet told Adam much later that
someone had noticed a strange gardener on the property the previous week.
I kept my thoughts to myself but I wondered if the presence of Mr
Finch-Hampton in his garage at the time might have been fortuitous. Was
the blaze supposed really to have been a warning?
Evidence?
I also had other things on my mind. Mum's recital. She had sent a
list of items. She and Tris must have been in cahoots. It seemed to me to
be a mix of the sacred and profane. Tris just laughed and said I was too
hidebound by tradition. It was a celebration, an entertainment and a real
family and friends affair. If I was going to be po-faced he'd withhold
sexual activity just like Lysistrata until I was begging for it. As we
were in bed at the time I rolled on top of him and he was riding on my
shaft within moments.
"You wouldn't be able to withhold for more than ten minutes once you
miss this," I panted and pushed in even deeper with harder and harder
thrusts. He was bucking his hips in synchrony so I had him exactly where I
wanted him. Deny me? Like Hell! We came almost simultaneously. I shot a
load deep in him and with a supreme effort of will sat up, grabbed his
engorged cock and gave him the fastest and most stupendous wank I could.
He sprayed not only his face but my pillow as well with the streams of
spunk that jetted out.
"Oh fuck, Marky!" He managed to say once his own orgasmic frenzy had
diminished, "I couldn't deny you anything."
I was still impaled. My cock was still rigid. I jerked my hips a
couple of times. "Seconds straight away!" I said.
"Mercy, mercy," he cried, heaving with laughter now. "Give me a
fucking cuddle and discuss things. Stay in." He squeezed my shaft with
his muscles and I thought I would fire another volley without much more
effort. "You're too precious to me to deny you anything. But you're a
stubborn bugger. Just lighten up and listen to reason."
I recited the provisional programme as sent by Mum. OK. I agreed.
She would start with three songs by Hugo Wolf. She would pick three lively
ones and I could accompany her. I'd played through a good few when she
sang through at home so I was reasonably happy I could do that. Practice,
though! Dad was next. A longish Mozart Sonata - the one in B flat - he'd
ask Safar to accompany him and would play it on the violin he'd been given.
Yep. Then Mum again. She'd discovered the three Spiritual Songs by Dvorak
and had sung one in church with me accompanying on the organ. Yes. That
would be alright. Then Gran and Frankie. Two of the Spanish Dances. I
hoped he would be competent enough. Of course he would! Then Tris and
Mum. Something from Gilbert and Sullivan. Tris had asked Oliver if he
would accompany them. I knew Oliver was a most competent pianist, but
Gilbert and Sullivan? It would be suitable I was assured. Then me on the
organ to finish the first half. OK, to follow the G&S, that concert piece
by Lefebre-Wely. Good for a few laughs. In the right places I hoped.
That would be a very varied first half and plenty in it. OK, again.
The second half would be the test. Mum was always getting her better
pupils to try songs by Duparc. Lovely. Three of those. Then Dad and
Safar again. He'd decide on a piece with Safar's agreement. Something
lighthearted. Tris was giggling now so I gave a couple of thrusts to
quieten him. It was the next piece. I'd heard Oliver and Tris busking
'Moon River' before Christmas in my room. They sounded good. Tris could
put on a sultry voice when needed. Oliver had apparently arranged it over
the vacation for Soprano, Tenor, two oboes and piano as something for part
of his this term assessment. Mum, Tris, Oliver and Fiona with Dina on
piano. I said I didn't know she played. You haven't lived, matey, he said
and bucked his hips. She's good. I'd like to hear it, I said. You will,
ducky, he said, giving me a further feeling of sexual delight with his
movements. OK. Gran and Toad again. The three final Spanish Dances.
Plenty of liveliness there. Then my turn. Right, my old favourite,
Boellmann's Menuet Gothique. Really show off the organ. Finally, down to
earth again. The extract from Mendelssohn's Elijah. I would have to get
Matt to conduct the Chapel Choir, Ivo and Adam in it, with Mum as the
soloist and me accompanying on the organ. Thinking about it. Something
for everyone. Definitely 'Foster Family and Friends'.
I was then definitely friendly to my close family, my Tris. I fucked
him long and slow this time and the sweat was pouring off us both as we
squelched together for a long, long cuddle of supreme togetherness. We had
a shower together then damp but happy we clung to each other and slept
until my alarm woke us. Satiated and satisfied the night before, but ready
for our run when Oliver and the Thugs appeared. I always marvelled at the
energy we must have expended in our now more frequent couplings and the
complete readiness to wake and expend more energy on a run the morning
after. Tris shared a bed with me every night now. A couple of times a
week we used his bed, the rest of the time luxuriating in the comfort of my
bigger bed. As I said our complete couplings were now much more frequent.
I probably fucked Tris more than he fucked me but it didn't seem to matter,
we were ready always for what ever happened.
As half term approached I went home one weekend to go through the
piano parts of the songs with Mum and to sort out the exact tempos for the
Mendelssohn. I came back with very heavily marked copies, but she seemed
satisfied that I was a reasonably good accompanist. She said that with the
same intonation that Toad had. I would have to watch Mum, perhaps he was
having a bad influence on her. But then, which came first, the chicken or
the egg, Toad or Toad's Mum? I said this to her and she said she'd had
plenty of experience like that with Uncle Francesco. She didn't say which
way so I was none the wiser. But I did make it clear that Toad would not
be too welcome over his half term. I was working really hard. Getting my
head round seven topics in Maths, plus my almost total lack of knowledge of
computing, and now the extra practice on piano and organ for the concert
meant I had to juggle my schedule every day including Saturdays and
Sundays.
The respite came in those nightly encounters with Tris and the visits
to the Club. Adam was now a very swaggering sight in his own leathers and
from his own admission he was getting full satisfaction from that rampantly
obvious cock I felt pressed into me whenever I danced with Whippet. Barry
appeared most Saturdays, unless there was a dinner party, driven by a very
relieved Jacob now the mystery of the crash had more or less been
satisfactorily solved. We'd been invited to a couple more gatherings at
the bungalow and our group got to know a lot about the social ramifications
of Cambridge academic life. Barry, of course, knew Danny from the catering
course they were both doing and, after a rather hesitant meeting, became
firm friends. A laughing Jonty saying he always lived in hope that Barry
might turn out to be gay as the pair of them turned him on. Barry took it
all in good part and danced with all and sundry and seemed happier and
happier as the weeks rolled by.
Toad was not happy when it was made clear I was too busy to cope with
hm. All was well, though. Mum had to go out to Italy to placate Grandma
Matteoli who was proving fractious and had quarrelled with a neighbour and
complained all the time about her sister. She took Frankie with her over
his half-term week as she thought he might exert his charm on Grandma.
What charm, I wondered. Not to worry. Aldo took him in charge and they
flew up to Venice where he had to check on something to do with the
Palazzo.
I received an e-mail with a photo of Toad sitting in St Mark's Square
quaffing coffee with a look of bliss on his face. The message was 'Wish
you could be here to see me enjoying myself, Baron-in- waiting Francis the
Leopard'.
Instead of Toad I had Zack. More exactly, Fiona asked us if we would
mind talking to him again. The lad he'd thought about had turned out to be
gay, but already had a close friend. He liked Zack but that was all. So
Zack came and stayed for three days, shacked up in Tris's room with the
connivance of Charles and Jason and much to the astonishment of Ivo and
Adam who encountered this very confident and older than his years looking
young man emerging from Tris's room as they and he were coming down to
breakfast the morning after he'd arrived. They confessed they'd thought
Tris was shagging some student from another College without me knowing and
were ready to give Tris the benefit of their minds and their boots. They
said this after Zack had been introduced and they'd followed me into the
kitchen laughing their heads off. Zack was pleased to be thought worthy of
Tris's attentions as I announced all this as soon as I went back into the
main room with a container of plump sausages and nicely crisped bacon.
Zack didn't mind me telling them all about him. Oliver was very
sympathetic. Oliver still hadn't made contact with anyone and I think in
some way that helped Zack. Here was a most handsome young man still
looking and here was he, Zack, just beginning to look. Everything took
time. Oliver promised to keep in touch and if Zack liked, he could come
down to Dorset to stay. I think even Fiona was agreeable to that. Zack
was now seventeen and could make his own mind up. I just wondered if a
friendship might blossom.
Zack was delightful company. During the day he explored Cambridge by
himself and spent hours in the Fitzwilliam Museum and the Archaeology
Museum. Two evenings we took him out to eat and on the Friday night
dressed him in Matteoli gear and, even though a bit underage, took him to
the Club. We knew none of the police would be there as Adam had said they
were doing a raid somewhere that evening. Zack was entranced and turned
out to be a natural dancer. Shirt off and showing the makings of a soon to
sprout very hairy chest he looked stunning, and at least twenty. He had
Danny, Jonty and Dave vying for the next dance all evening. He and Oliver
were on the floor together most of the rest of the time though I had a
couple of very smoochy ones with him and, if what I felt pressed against my
own hard-on was evidence, he was also extremely well-hung. What made it
for both of us and made us giggle together like two little maids was the
rubbing together of my hairy chest against his incipient one. He was most
open as we parted after that dance. "God, Mark, you turn me on! I wish
there were two of you!" I felt the same about him. I wanted him and Tris
in bed with me there and now. My thoughts of what three horny, rampant
young men would do nearly made me squirt in my minimal tanga briefs.
We slipped back into College past a dozing Night Porter. Oliver and
he grinned at each other as we passed Oliver's door on the staircase as
Tris and I went up to see him safely in his room for his final night. He
grabbed Tris first as we shut the door.
They were lip- locked and I thought Tris might get raped if he was lucky.
They separated and in a moment I was being kissed and hugged so tight. I
opened my mouth to take a breath and his tongue was straight in. We
tongue-fucked while Tris came and put his arms round us both. He gently
led us to the bed and as we clung to each other he undressed both of us,
then himself and we fell onto the narrow bed and felt each other all over.
As Zack and I kissed and stroked each other's hard young bodies so Tris, on
his knees, sucked and laved one and then the other of our so-hard
erections. Yes, Zack was well-hung. I'd peered down as Tris had peeled
off his briefs. His prick was straight up and just about matched ours but
his balls were a real sight. Two large low-hanging orbs, no doubt
manufacturing the sweetest and most generous amounts of boyseed.
It wasn't long before I gasped as that familiar tongue probed my ridge
again and again. I shot an enormous load which I heard Tris trying to
swallow down. I spattered his face with the last two squirts then, soon,
Zack shuddered against me and gave a little cry against my cheek as he went
into spasms. Tris sounded as if he was drowning as he spluttered. Zack's
hips jerked rhythmically as Tris must have taken his prick into his mouth
again and was giving it those almighty sucks I had just experienced. I
knew Zack would be in ecstasy. I had experienced that virtuosity so many
times so I knew exactly what sensations Zack was undergoing. Zack just
about collapsed against me and those so familiar sounds of great
contentment were breathed against my ear. I held him tight as his passion
subsided. Tris climbed up and held us while he smeared the remnants of
those two outpourings on waiting lips.
Twice more during the night the sexual ballet took place. I caressed
the almost sleeping pair and found their ready cocks and sucked both to
further oblivion. True, Zack's generous flow was like honey as it gushed
into my mouth. Towards dawn, a newly-inducted Zack slowly and with great
care sucked his pair of willing lovers until he, too, could share their
warm seed. We slept on. I heard the accustomed rushing behind the wall
and gently woke Tris. We kissed Zack awake and said we would have to go
for our run but we would be back. He kissed us both tenderly and smiled.
A truly satisfied boy had experienced real love and affection and the
fruits of that love.
On our return, followed into my set by Oliver and the twins, we found
a glowing boy. Breakfast completely ready. From his look the others knew
a hurdle had been surmounted, a rite de passage, in that hackneyed phrase,
for another questing gay boy. Love, affection, trust. He had been
initiated, admitted, nay, lovingly incorporated into that select group such
as ourselves. Even Ivo recognised that. He remarked to me the next day
that he hoped Zack would find someone soon.
I had a lecture at nine so rushed off leaving Oliver with Zack to
clear up as the twins were off to their rooms as both were trying to get
some revision done early.
I returned, after a quick run through of methods of attacking the
problems set with both girls in the noisy comfort of Starbucks. Fiona came
back to College with me as she was collecting us and her brother for lunch.
As we entered my set we found Zack and Oliver deep in conversation. It was
so obvious to all of us these two people were made for each other. The
pity was that Oliver hadn't been with us through the night. Perhaps not.
Zack had found a new self with the nurturing help of two very experienced
lovers. He was ready now to find his own way.
Fiona smiled at her brother's radiant expression. Those deep-set blue
eyes were alive with newfound contentment. "As soon as I finish my exams
next term," Zack said, "I'm going down to stay with Oliver at his
grandparents. We've got a lot in common." He smiled back at Fiona. "It's
OK sis, we've got music and books and everything."
Everything! A genuine spark had been kindled. I knew Oliver would be
the gentlest of lovers and that Zack would have a true, honest friend. I
was glad that Tris had taken that initiative. We had been able to share
our love and passion with a truly lovely person.
The six of us, Dina came along too, went to the Caf‚ Rouge for lunch.
It was such a happy occasion and Dina had some news, too. She'd been a bit
perturbed about her progress with the Applied Maths in the Dynamics course.
I'd asked Louie if he would give her a few hints. The few hints of a
couple of weeks previously had already developed into a friendship. Dina
laughed as she said Louie's dad was a parson and her mother was a vicar as
well, so things might work out well. Zack did a real Toad wrinkle of his
nose. "Your turn next, sis!" Even Zacks could be Toads!
We saw little of the twins or any of the hard-working third year
finals students for the rest of the term. Adam was more than content with
his new tutors. He said Simon's insistence on rigour of thought made him
feel streets ahead of most of his confreres. Ivo and 'Tory spent so much
time together - dealing with French irregular habits rather than verbs
according to Adam - Tris and I guessed that some announcement might be
forthcoming sooner than later. No! Not pregnancy but an engagement.
In all the kerfuffle over the fire and its aftermath it was some time
before Adam surfaced with the results of his findings in Peterborough.
He'd also been to the newspaper offices in Cambridge and had some very
interesting discoveries. We did set aside one evening when we all gathered
in my main room where he displayed his results.
"Firstly, I found a birth. Jason was right when he told me he thought
his several times Granny was sent off to relations in Peterborough," Adam
said, pointing to a photostat of a birth record. "It says Adeline Mary
Knott had a son, no father noted, on February the twenty third, eighteen
ninety four. He was registered as David Arthur Knott. Interestingly
enough...," Here he pointed to a second sheet of paper, "Mr Pennefather's
full names were Augustus Bertram Constantine David Pennefather. The
College records show his father's first name was Arthur so it does rather
fit. Not proof but getting there."
"Have you shown Jason this?" Tris asked.
Adam nodded. "Yes, I did this afternoon and he's taken a copy home to
ask his father if he knows anything more. Unfortunately his Gran's memory
is going and his Grandfather, James Arthur Knott, died about five years
ago."
"So, if this does fit, then Jason is a direct descendant of old
Augustus." said Ivo.
I was doing a little calculation. "February 1894. That means about
May 1893, towards the end of his second year as he began here as a student
in 1891."
"Yes," said Adam, "I did the sums, too. And don't forget he was at
the Choir School here from the age of eight before he went to Rugby at the
age of thirteen, so he must have known the Knott family quite well. Jason
says there were at least three Knotts working for the College over that
period of time and Adeline started as an ironer in the laundry at the age
of twelve. She was promoted to biddy when she was just sixteen at the
Christmas of 1893."
"So she was making his bed and then warmed it too willingly....." said
Ivo.
"....And the social structure then didn't allow marriage..." said
Adam.
"...But, if the College authorities knew, would he have been given a
Fellowship? More likely kicked out on his ear," said Tris, "It must have
been kept very quiet."
"Do we know anything about his family?" asked Oliver.
Adam held up another sheet of paper. "His death notice says 'Last
surviving son and heir of the late Arthur Constantine Pennefather, Esquire,
of Armitage Hall, County of Hampshire and of Eaton-square, London'. I
guess that means landed gentry and fairly wealthy. When I've finished my
exams next term I'll try to find out more. Where Armitage Hall is and
whether there is any surviving family."
"Did Adeline marry?" asked Tris who was looking at the copy of the
birth certificate.
"No," said Adam, "But she was always known as Mrs Knott. Jason says
his father thinks she worked from home as a seamstress and she definitely
owned her own home in Peterborough and she died in 1936. She was only
fifty-nine when she died." He held up a further piece of paper. "This is
her death notice from the Peterborough paper."
"What about AD," asked Tris.
Adam laughed. "I think I've solved that one, but there is still a
mystery. I guess AD is Aubrey Devereux. He was an undergraduate here with
Augustus. He was what used to be called a Fellow Commoner. He paid extra
to eat at High Table. I also think he took advantage of some regulation
which allowed him his degree without taking any examinations. But, this is
what I found..."
He waved a couple of sheets of paper this time. "...I was looking to
see if there was any other notice about Adeline when she died. I found her
funeral notice and it gave the list of mourners including the cryptic note
'and several from Cambridge' at the end. But I was really hooked on the
way the paper did the local news and I looked to see if there was anything
about Augustus as there had been articles about deaths of prominent people
around the County. I was browsing through the 1938 issues and found
this..."
He pointed to one of the two sheets. We could all see the headlines.
'Mystery of Missing Executor' "I'll read what it says:
'The Honourable Aubrey Devereux named as an Executor in the Will of
the recently deceased Mr Augustus Pennefather of St Mark's College,
Cambridge, has been reported missing. Mr Pennefather, a Fellow of that
College, was found below the weir on Jesus Green some three weeks ago and
Mr Devereux did not attend the inquest, nor the reading of the Will. Mr
Devereux, scion of the famous local family and well-known rider to hounds
in past years, had fallen on hard times since the last War and was living
in reduced circumstances in lodgings off Burleigh Street in Cambridge. His
landlady informed enquirers that he has not been seen since the tragic
death of Mr Pennefather and that all those of his few possessions were
still in his room and no rent had been paid for two months. Any person
having knowledge of Mr Devereux's whereabouts are invited to contact Mr
Partridge, Solicitor, of King's Parade.'"
There was a scramble to look at the report and Adam looked rather
triumphant. "I searched on but there was nothing else that year as far as
I could see. I looked up Devereux in Burke's Peerage and found he was a
kinsman of an Earl. His two elder brothers had been killed, one in the
Boer War and the other, I would imagine, in a hunting accident from the
death notice I found. None of them seemed to have been married as the book
doesn't list any issue." He paused. "So what happened to Aubrey Devereux?
Grabbed old Augustus's spare cash maybe and hightailed it to Paris?"
"Or tipped Augustus off the bridge and did himself in somewhere," said
Ivo very quietly. "As usual, we need more information."
At least, I said, we did know a bit more about Jason's antecedents and
the stuff that Adam had found about this Devereux cleared up who was
responsible for the rhyme. He was a rider to hounds so used a horseman's
lingo when writing it. I think they all agreed with that.
What a rush term was. Next thing I knew it was the week of the
concert. The Bursar was happy. All tickets had been sold and the Mayor
was coming. I agonised over whether it would be of a high enough standard.
I needn't have worried. Dad, Mum, Gran and Toad (preening himself as the
school had been so impressed there had been no moans about him having a day
off) arrived early Friday morning and rehearsed all day. I dutifully did
my stint by attending two lectures but Professor Tanner laughed and said an
extra tutorial would be arranged as I obviously needed the time to play
during the afternoon. He would be at the concert and if I wasn't up to
scratch I could expect extra work for the vacation. Anyway, all went
superbly. Mum's first group of songs were just heavenly, even though I say
it myself as the accompanist. Dad's Mozart captivated the audience as he
and Safar complimented each other with their superb playing.
Very few, if any, had heard the Dvorak songs before and there was rapt
attention as Mum sang these from the organ loft. Gran and Toad got a
special ovation after their first duet. He, immaculate in a dark red
jacket and black trousers specially flown in by Uncle Francesco, she, in a
long flowing gown of the same shade of red. Between the pair of them they
hammed it up a bit in the second piece with him coyly looking at her as he
played the lower part and she twinkled over the keys with the very
flamboyant gestures of a female Liberace. They loved it, and the audience
loved it too, especially after the second one where, as they took their
bow, he held up her left hand and kissed her fingers. Tris and Mum with
Oliver accompanying did two duets from Gilbert and Sullivan. There were
many appreciative chuckles as he held her hand in the second as a lovesick
swain and she simpered at his advances. I really let go in the
Lefebre-Wely extracting every ounce of the flamboyance and rodomontade of
the most ludicrous piece anyone could have thought of writing down. So the
first half was over and the audience seemed satisfied so far.
I think everyone was most appreciative as Charles had had the bright
idea of including a glass of wine or whatever in the price of the ticket.
From what I could see there was enough wine flowing for at least two
glasses each and the interval was stretched a bit. I introduced Mum and
Dad to the Club crowd - even Jonty, Danny and a couple of the other young
lads were there, as well as Brad and the others. I think Dad and Brad got
on well and Mum was chatting away to Whippet and Adam. Frankie was
everywhere. He was even kissed by Annabelle and Alexandra and was laughing
about something with Louie and Toby who were escorting Fiona and Dina. I
didn't realise Gran knew one of the old dons from some shared interest in
Delius or some other composer and she was well away with the Master and his
wife as well.
Two young men came up to me as I was sipping my wine and surveying the
interactions of the multitude. Oliver and Zack. I could see they were
just overjoyed to be together and soon we were joined by the Commander, his
wife and young Brandon. It was just one happy family enlivened by Charles
appearing with plates of special tidbits 'Mother had insisted I ordered'.
Liam, Sean and Jason were circulating bearing plates themselves. Just
before the second half was to begin I saw Charles in earnest conversation
with Zack and Oliver.
The second half was even better in my opinion, perhaps seen through
the effects of the glass of wine. The three DuParc songs were so well
received Mum whispered that she would sing one more. Luckily we'd gone
over it and I felt so relaxed, but at the same time so intent on doing my
best, the music just flowed. And so it did for the rest of the evening.
Each item received so much applause it was incredible. None more so than
the 'Moon River' ensemble. Even the Master was singing along and when they
repeated the last part again everyone was humming and joining in. Follow
that? We did! Gran and Frankie excelled themselves. Frankie was going to
be a real showman and he and Gran played to the audience who loved every
moment. I literally pulled out all the stops for the Boellmann - I had
planned every quirky but proper registration as the roller-coaster sped on
and those final few bars with the addition of the Bombarde, especially on
the last bottom C, rang round the building. After the applause there was
an expectant hush as Mum appeared at the front of the organ loft again.
That Mendelssohn excerpt capped a superb evening's entertainment. That
last statement of 'Be not afraid' was so perfect. I was very proud of our
choir and thanked Matt especially for the training he'd given them.
Again there were congratulations all round and a sizeable number of
the audience were corralled by Charles and his helpers and ended up in my
main room where champers and more canapes and delicacies were laid out.
All Charles would say was 'Mother insisted' as Jason and his helpers
circulated with trays of glasses and plates of food.
Jonty, Danny, Barry and the other lads were soon in conversation with
Frankie, Zack, Oliver and Brandon. Dad and Mum had the three policeman,
plus the Commander and his wife, with Adam and Ivo and 'Tory in attendance,
and with the crowd around Professor Tanner, Safar and Jacob I could see
what Charles had said about parties in my main room. I saw Toad take all
the lads through to the bedroom and there were definite squeals of delight
at the four-poster and that duvet cover. I wouldn't hear the end of it at
the Club I knew. Luckily we'd cleared away most evidence of shared
accommodation but Danny shyly came up when they said their goodbyes and
said he wished he could move in with Jonty like.... He left the sentence
unfinished. I smiled and murmured 'You will'.
There was a most effusive letter from the Master and his wife in my
pigeon-hole next day as well as numerous others. The family were staying
at the Garden House, courtesy of Uncle Francesco who had said he was sorry
he and Aldo couldn't be present as he presenting another collection.
Toad's ears had pricked up at this wondering if any of his ideas were on
show. After lunch there we had to see his room. "If I'd known it was a
double I might have invited one of those girls to stay over," he said.
Tris informed him that young ladies at Cambridge weren't interested in
little boys with midget willies. One would have thought the Falklands were
being invaded again. Frankie was getting a seriously big boy and it was
only Tris's nimbleness which stopped him being annihilated. I just stood
and laughed. The Toad sneer was accompanied by a plaintive "It's not fair.
You've got him every night and I've got nobody." As I then made wanking
movements with my right hand it didn't improve matters but we did end up
laughing together. Frankie would find his somebody some day. Also, I
didn't say anything but I got the feeling the way the Master was watching
him last night he would have little difficulty when he applied for entrance
to the College. If so, he'd also have little difficulty enticing some nice
young lady into bed, especially with that more than adequate willy he had.
The trip to the Royal Opera House for the performance of Tristan and
Isolde was most memorable. It was my first attendance at a large-scale
Wagner opera though I'd heard much of his music as Uncle Nick had CDs of
everything possible. I'd borrowed Rheingold first when I was about twelve
and listened to that and been mesmerised by both the simplicity and the
complexity of the score. That opening E flat rising from the depths of the
orchestra really symbolised the flowing Rhine. I realised the genius in
the music, the orchestra always pointing the story, as it happened and what
was to come. I'd listened to the First Act of Tristan and Isolde soon
after and had come to love those evocative opening few bars. My Tristan
was captured in that phrase.
We were in the front row of the Balcony and although the staging was
rather peculiar I just let the music flow into me, not over me, but really
into me. The betrayal of Tristan stabbed me, too. We sat out on the
terrace during that second interval just looking at each other and sipping
the glasses of over-priced wine I'd bought us. I was completely lost to
this world during the last part of the Third Act. As soon as King Mark had
cried out in forgiveness 'Mein Held, mein Tristan, Trautester Freund' and
that final 'Du treulos, treuster Freund!' I gripped my Tristan's hand as
tears welled. Tears flowed from then on, even more as Isolde began the
'Leibestod' - Love's Death - 'Mild und leise wie er lachelt', so quietly,
so passionately. I looked along the row as the music swelled 'in dem
wogenden Schwall, in den totenden Schall, in des Welt' with Isolde's held
top G sharp. Everyone had tears running down their cheeks. 'Atems
wehendem All, ertrinken, versinken, un bewusst, hochste Lust!' The music
calmed, then swelled and that last chord for me could have gone on for
ever. There was silence. Then an ovation. I think I had had the most
intense musical experience of my life. I knew Tristan had been through the
same soul-shattering, soul-enhancing time as well. We said nothing as we
walked to the tube station. We said nothing as we walked home. I went
with Tristan to his front door. I hugged him. "My Tristan," I said. "My
Mark," was his response. I went home and slept knowing we were one.
With my first encounter with Cambridge exams looming I worked hard
during the rest of the vacation. We three had discussed what we should do
in preparation and Louie had primed Dina about the papers saying we must
really tackle as many of the long questions as we could. He'd given her a
copy of last year's and we sweated a bit when we saw the complexities. I
took home a whole batch of old papers and sweated even more as I attempted
them. Luckily all three of us had access to computers and telephones so we
exchanged ideas and solutions and I became much more confident.
Tris was in the same boat, his Part One exams were upon him. His
marks last year were in the First category and he desperately wanted to
maintain that standard this year. He went up to his Dad's Chambers on
several days and came back with all sorts of arcane knowledge and hints
about judgements and whatever lawyers had to know. So between us we
studied, rested, ran through the local park, ate and loved each other
whenever we could. It was more restrictive at home. There was generally
someone around in either household but we found no-one disturbed us once my
bedroom door was closed. Even one afternoon when Tris was looking up at me
and whispering that he needed more, although my seven and half inches was
fully in him, and we heard Toad coming up the stairs as noisily as possible
and shouting out to Jack to put the kettle on. We just continued with our
love-making until, to the accompaniment of noises off in Frankie's bedroom,
two stupendous orgasms completed an afternoon of perfect bliss. Frankie
didn't even sneer when we appeared. He even asked if we would like some
tea and an owlish Jack eyed us, but said nothing.
I dreaded what might happen when I opened the first exam paper.
Luckily Tris and I more or less alternated with the papers we had to take
so we took it in turns to make sure the other had plenty of sustenance,
plus a good high level of loving. Bag of nerves was nothing each time I
entered the examination halls and surveyed my glum looking fellows, but I
did as suggested and attacked as many of the long questions as possible and
polished off short ones as well. Were they trying to weed us out, I
wondered, as I tackled a horrendous thing on one paper on Analysis? Fiona
and Dina were just as disconsolate and we vowed we wouldn't have
post-mortems - just go through our notes for the next mental onslaught.
Tris was happier. Several topics he'd really worked on came up so,
between him comforting me, and I listening to expositions on underlying
principles of Law and so on, we managed to survive. Oliver just seemed to
breeze his way through. His only complaint was that he really needed
absolute silence when he was thinking about harmonising a given theme and
he was certain the candidate in the row next to him was snoring.
Both Adam and Ivo seemed fairly confident, too. Ivo was going to the
Foreign Office induction course in July if all was well and Adam had made
his presentation to a representative at the Australian Embassy and was
assured of a bursary for research. The Master had said if his results were
sufficient he would also be elected to a Junior Fellowship. I was really
proud of my cousins.
Charles was also much happier. Not only was 'that man' no longer a
problem, God rest his soul, as he said, but his delving into the ancient
records of the early Servants of the Chapel was bearing fruit. "Dears," he
burbled one evening when we'd opened a couple of bottles of half-price wine
from Sainsbury's as the last of exams had been that day, "I can't tell you
what horrors were perpetrated in the name of education on those poor boys.
They even had a flogging master who had to beat the poor mites quite
unjustly for not remembering their Paternoster." He opened a notebook he'd
brought in with him. "This was in 1560 when the Servant witnessed 'that
wretch Grossteste who did chastise six of the newest on their bareness and
did take each privily unto his chamber to anoint them which for these six
passed one good hour'. Then two days later. "G did take privily two of
the newest without chastisement and said to me he had heard their recite
until good. Master John did say he was used evilly but was afeared."
"Is that what we think it is? Did he have the kid? And this
Grossteste person got away with it?" asked Adam taking the notebook. He
looked at the page. "Charles, is this true?" He read out, "'Master John
hath gone and was found at the watch gate and hath been chastised severe on
his return. He is bedded against my cell and cries out to his Father in
Heaven as G takes into him his food. I am minded to say to Mister Harcourt
but he is not a friend of the Chapel and doth rant against ceremony."
"Precious, I have written what is there. I have found that Grossteste
left the College to return to Ely in 1562. Also, Mr Harcourt was the
Chaplain appointed in 1559 after Elizabeth, that supposed virgin, came to
the throne. He was not liked and wanted the Chapel stripped of all its
furnishings." He shook his mane. "All seats were put in the crypt and all
the students had to stand through three services a day."
Ivo laughed. "I bet those with sore bums were glad they didn't have
to sit."
"Do you know who Master John was?" asked Tris taking the book from
Adam. I leaned over to read the page.
"Sweet one, I do," said Charles with a smile. "He entered College as
a poor scholar in 1559 when he was fifteen. There was a note that his
mother had left him at the gate to be taken in, 'for she was much afflicted
with the dropsy'. A little later it says she dies and the Master gives
instructions for the boy to be admitted as a scholar. It then said that he
was good at his studies." He laughed. "But all good comes when the Servant
of the Chapel does his duty." He took the book from Tris and turned a
couple of pages. "'I did hear Master John at his Latin when G was gone
that night and he is with Mr Els who has poor Latin and I did ask Mr
Humphrey my tutor to hear him and he was not satisfied with Mr Els and hath
the boy now with his own.'" He peered at some notes at the bottom of the
page. "If I am not mistaken Master John was Mr John Fletcher who became a
lector in Mathematics only five years later." He looked at us. "A good
Servant of the Chapel keeps an eye on his flock!"
We all said 'Hear Hear' and raised our glasses. Charles inclined his
head in acknowledgement. Adam had taken the notebook again.
"What's this? 'Master Gregory did display himself lewdly at Matins
and did drop to the floor."
Charles nodded. "Poor boy. He was confined to a room but looked
after kindly, as it says, by Mr Fletcher who was also skilled in Medicine
according to the records."
"Sounds like a fit," said Ivo, "What did they wear? Didn't have Marks
and Spencers or Debenhams in those days to get your undies from."
"True, my dear," said Charles, "I think I can quote the requirements
at that time. If I remember correctly they had a loose robe of brown wool
for summer with a shift under during the winter." He nodded. "And some
'did tie a clout for the roughness of the wool'."
"I guess the lad wasn't wearing anything under his robe and up it went
as he had a fit and kicked about," said Ivo.
"God! The poor little buggers must have been frozen stiff," said
Adam, "I bet they didn't have much heating around. It's bad enough when
fitness freak here opens the bloody window when there's a gale blowing."
"Got to keep the stink of your feet down to an acceptable level," said
Ivo.
"Boys, boys," said Charles, flapping his hands at them. "Let us not
have dissension among us. We have to plan for the future. Your tasks are
over and the time for the May Ball approaches." He looked at me and
smiled. "Jason and the Argonauts has been suggested." I smiled back. He
turned to Tris. "Dear Tristan will be Jason of the Golden Fleece and there
will be a goodly crowd of returning explorers and rowers and I shall be
Medea, the greatest sorceress of all time. My Jason shall be naked until I
can conjure up his Fleece." There was a look of horror on Tris's face and
looks of joyous wonderment on the grinning faces of the rest of us. "Worry
not, sweetest hunk, you will have concealment of those parts of which you
are so justly proud."
Yes, Charles had witnessed a nude, but flaccid Tris, when he had
visited me a few days previously after Tris had been to the gym and had
returned sweaty ready for a shower. Tris come into the main room dripping,
complaining I hadn't put a towel ready for him, while I was explaining to
Charles that I needed to practice in the Chapel without Drew taking up time
trying to teach Tosser Fleapit, as I called him.
Charles was in full flow. "I shall need a ram to be placed in a pot
and produce a young lamb. Some gnarled veteran of the Rugby Club and that
sweet young cox of the Second boat, perhaps...."
"Cox... ...small," I said, the cogs turning.
"My dear, I had the same thought and shared it with Ivo but we have
ascertained he has feet like veritable kipper boxes and spends all his time
with some young lady rower from Corpus Christi." He shook his head and the
silvery mane rippled.
"Yes," said Ivo, "Meant to tell you, but I checked discretely and he
rarely appears unless needed in the boat. I am also assured the young
lady, of ample size, is well supplied with comfort as his feet match....."
Charles was getting agitated. His exposition on Jason's encounter
with Medea was being interrupted. He pointed at Ivo. "...There are some
things left better unsaid. Let me continue. I have already approached
young Timothy and he is willing to appear from the cauldron. We must ask
Peter if he can construct a device to accommodate the ram and let the lamb
appear. There will be a marriage ceremony and Jason will be found to be
all a lady desires." Both hands went up with palms out and first fingers
and thumbs touching. He laughed. "Worry not. It will be a consummation
in the mind not of the flesh!"
"Thank God for that!" murmured a relieved Tris.
"You are dissatisfied?" asked Charles without a flicker on his face.
Tris grinned. "No..., ....just wondering!"
So that would be the next production - 'Medea Me Dear'. It would also
prevent problems over partners. I didn't think the College was ready quite
yet for Tris and me to appear as a couple at the May Ball. I knew Fiona
and Dina were now spoken for and I suppose we could have found suitable
companions among the other ladies in the College or even elsewhere, but a
part in the production meant attendance with strings attached. In fact,
Charles then went on to instruct me on the accompanying music he required,
especially for the magical actions. My time would be taken up. No young
lady would hang around while her escort was missing so much. Good!
Tris was rampant that night. Star part! I was exceedingly horny
myself and explored first to see if Jason had a Fleece by tonguing all over
his wonderfully hairless Golden torso. As I nibbled his prominent nipples
I counted the rowers' beats as I pulled down on each powerful stroke of the
oars. I got to one hundred and twenty-two before the mighty waves and the
foaming current overwhelmed my Jason's senses and splashed his faithful
oarsman. After he recovered he called me a stupid fool and I had to endure
being engulfed by a sea- serpent with probing and grasping tentacles and a
mouth so adept in swallowing its prey. So adept, I was squirting more ink
than a squid, he said as he surfaced for air. We lay and giggled and so
celebrated the ending of exams.
Term still went on. Professor Tanner shook my hand and said I had
exceeded even his modest expectations and the young ladies had done well,
too, you must all come to Barry's birthday party. Both Tris and Oliver
were happy as well, but our stair celebrated even more when Ivo, Adam and
Matt were each placed in the First class for their BAs. As Charles said,
as the other Jason opened even more champagne, there had not been such
scholarship on this stair since Dr Jensen and Mr Foster Senior had been the
star pupils of their year.
So, a packed marquee screamed at the sight of Tris in the prow of his
boat, discretely hiding his lower half but tantalising the audience with
glimpses of the smallest, but bulging mightily, golden cache-sexe to
preserve his modesty until the Fleece magically appeared. A raucous,
motley crew of buccaneers and whipped rowing slaves milled around the
makeshift stage. One of the Neanderthal-like rugger-buggers with horns,
long goatee and an immense codpiece was seemingly sliced for the pot and
the prettiest young lamb leapt out with tightly curled wig, pointed ears, a
fleece made as a woolly jockstrap, huge hooves to accommodate size ten feet
and a winning smile. Having seen the lamb when being prepared I knew why
the lady rower from Corpus Christi was more than satisfied with her pet!
Big feet, big .....!
Over all this Clarissa/Medea/Charles kept up a stream of innuendo and
risque statements which had the dinner-jacketed and fancifully be-gowned
after-dinner mob - I mean sophisticated male and female students -
shouting, clapping and screaming for more. Especially so after the finale,
where ten muscly, and certainly under-dressed, Argonauts and slaves, plus
Tris and the animals, almost literally brought the house down as the stage
and surround shook to their version of the Folies Bergeres can-can to my
accompaniment. When the curtain finally came down, Tris ended up in a mock
auction after we had signed our names all over his torso with felt pens.
He was eventually knocked down to me for nine pence, payable in yearly
installments. The photograph of him surrounded by us all was one to be
treasured. Charles was over the moon with the reception he and his
faithful band had received for this masterpiece that no expense was spared
for the sumptuous dinner that was now set out for the exhausted cast.
Dad brought Frankie up to Cambridge for a couple of days, as he had
finished his GCSE exams as well, and took Tris and me with him to Ulvescott
Manor. What a place! An old, huge manor house, with wonderful rooms and
the biggest welcome you could imagine. Safar and his wife were already
there and he introduced us to his father, a tiny but very formidable, but
so friendly, Arab gentleman. There were several other people we also met,
one of whom was another short, but obviously tough, elderly man who, Safar
whispered, had been his rescuer when he was kidnapped. He didn't tell us
more then as we were led into the large drawing-room where Dr Thomson was
playing the organ. This was the retired don from Cambridge I had been told
about and Safar referred to him as Dad and the elderly Arab gentleman as
Father. Strange. I played and then Safar accompanied my Dad on the piano
as he played a couple of pieces. Later, Frankie was taken round the house
by Dr Thomson's son who was a medical doctor he found out. He said the
room which impressed him most was one of the bedrooms which had photographs
all round and he said he found that room so peaceful. The younger Dr
Thomson laughed and said he should come and stay and he could sleep in that
room. He had already felt the influence. A strange place but we all felt
so happy there and an open invitation to visit again.
On the way back in the car to Cambridge Frankie was strangely silent.
He was in the back with me and kept looking at me.
"What's up?" I asked, "I shan't offer you a penny for them because
when you have a thought the moon will turn blue!"
He didn't even sneer. "Marky," he said, "You know those things we've
got on our legs?"
I laughed. "Yeah, those and the ears remind me all the time you're my
brother."
"Shut up and listen," Frankie was serious. "You know that bedroom I
told you about with the photos?" I nodded. I'd been concentrating on the
very nice Steinway and the house organ while he was being shown that.
"Well there's a couple with boys and their legs and the birth marks they
have are just the same as ours. I didn't say anything but that Dr Thomson
I went round with said it was a family thing and to do with his family's
French heritage. He pointed at one photo and said it was his leg and the
other's were his Dad's and his nephews and his French relations as well.
It seemed very odd."
"Lots of people have birthmarks," I said, "Sammy Patel has one on his
arm that looks like the map of India and..," I lowered my voice. "...Tris
has got one in a most interesting place.."
Frankie sneered then. "..I know, it's just by his elbow, fool! But I
think it's odd about these others."
Dad had very acute hearing. "Birthmarks?" he asked, "Runs in our
family. Your Aunt Sophie has one, too. Your Gran said it must be a family
thing as apparently your Grandad had one as well and Gran said it must be
true as both of you have them. I know, they all look alike and Sophie used
to try to cover hers up when she wore a swimming costume and was most
annoyed because I didn't have one."
"But Dad, the ones in the photos and ours are all the same. Dr
Thomson said it was probably from his French ancestors."
"Could be," Dad said, "My Gran was French, that's why my father read
French at St Mark's."
Tris had been listening in. "But it can't be all French people. Must
be a family trait. Like Hapsburg chins or haemophilia. You know, it's
inherited."
"Funny," said Frankie sounding quite interested, "'Cos there's a big
family tree hanging in the room as well. Have we got one?"
"There's a family Bible somewhere," said Dad, "But that's only got the
English side. If it's French I only know my Gran came over as a governess,
a glorified au pair I guess, and stayed on and married the elder brother of
the kids she was supposed to teach. Your Gran might know a bit more.
You'll have to ask her."
"There's another thing," said Frankie. "There's a photo of a boy in
rowing kit...," he looked at me again, "...And he looks quite like Marky."
"Handsome, is he?" I said, "Then it must be my shadow."
Frankie said nothing but he kept taking sideways glances at me.
As we parted at the College gate on the Backs Frankie said quietly to
me, "Why did you say it was your shadow?"
"I don't know. But there was something about that house..."
"Yeah," said a very thoughtful Frankie, "There was a shadow I'm sure."
Term ended rather quietly. I knew Oliver was meeting up with Zack for
the vacation and Aldo had e-mailed me to find out what plans we could make
for visiting Uncle Francesco and him at the Villa. He said it was open
house. He slipped in an aside that Ernesto and Guido would be there and
was worried that Pietro would be left out of things. I took that as a
definite hint that a partnership was brewing. I asked if a larger party
than usual could be accommodated. Just let me know was the replay. Toad
kept on about going again and couldn't Eddie come as well? I kept him
chuntering until the last minute with strict instructions to Eddie to say
nothing but ask his father for the fare. So e-mails were flying back and
forth. Sadly for the party Adam said he'd been offered the chance of a
semester in the States before he took up his Research Fellowship and as Ivo
was starting work neither would be available for a 'full holiday', as he
put it, but both would be available for a fortnight.
Then an e-mail arrived from Oliver. Very terse. 'Neither I nor Z are
virgins any longer! Love from both to all, O and Z. p.s. delete when
read.' Very much to the point. I thought, right, if they could raise the
ante for the flights they could join us. An e-mail back. That left
Brandon. A quick phone call to his Mum arranged that as she had already
had one from Zack and was most amused, about the trip, as the deflowering
was not alluded to! I knew Pietro was computer and game-boy mad so all the
pairs would be complete. Gays with gays, straights with straights, and the
amount of semen to be expended would be no-one's business except their own.
I did ask Charles as well what his plans were, but he was visiting
Mother in the States where La Contessa was being feted and had more work
than she could possibly cope with without assistance. "I will amuse myself
and bemoan the fact I must leave my lovely set and labour next year in some
dingy dungeon." Whichever room the College found for him would no doubt be
soon transformed and he would, no doubt, be most assiduous in guiding the
new Servant of the Chapel in his duties. "A winsome young graduate from
Cranwell, one of the more illustrious institutions of the red-brick species
I am informed, and whose High Church proclivities are beyond question or
reproach," he said waving a finger. "He will be pursuing so far unknown
documentation on the Knights Templar and their heresies for a B Phil and
will probably prove the Holy Grail is under the Round Church." We would
see how Drew dealt with that. High Church and happy-clappy did not seem to
go too well together and I'd read some book about the Holy Grail, but I
didn't think Cambridge was mentioned!
To be Continued;