Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 19:21:25 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:  Another chapter:  33b

		      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
Oliver Jensen   A Musical undergraduate with allure
Damien FitzArnold   An accomplished painter
Alistair Jameson   His hairy-legged, accomplished nephew.
Gabriel Pack  An affable Aussie
Joshua
Raphael Pack    Gabriel's angelic brother
Angus Alexander McKenzie (Zack)   A young man with panache
Oliver Jensen   A Musical undergraduate with allure


     33.      My Finals Year :   A.
     Before the Christmas Term starts.  [PartTwo]

[ "This is me little brother Raph," said Gabe, not showing much enthusiasm,
"Say hello!"  He poked the lad forward.]

     "Hi, Raph," I said, giving him my best smile, "I'm Mark as Gabe's no
doubt told you."  We shook hands.  His a rather limp one as if he wasn't
too pleased at being here but this didn't quite chime with the smile.

     "Yeah, Gabe's filled me in.  Pleased to meet ya," he said and a bit
more animation was evident in his response.  He looked around.  "This your
room?"

     "Yes," I said, "I'm rather lucky being the Pennefather Scholar but I
think your brother's and Gabe's set isn't too bad."

     "Haven't seen that yet."

     A bit monosyllabic.  Gabe was not happy and Josh hadn't said anything
yet.  Usual ploy.

     "What about some tea?" I asked.

     Josh smiled at that and did a thumbs-up sign.  I had the impression he
felt he was being let off the hook.  He went off to my kitchen and came
back bearing a tray of cups and saucers plus the teapot and milk jug.  He'd
also found the fruit cake Mum had baked for me.  While he was out I tried a
bit more conversation but it was hard going.  Raph had gone over to the
harpsichord and said he hadn't seen one before.  I played a couple of
snatches of a Bach Partita and he seemed intrigued with the sound.  "Do you
play anything?" I asked.  He shook his head.  He was eyeing the organ stops
around the room.  I suggested he pulled the Gambe one carefully.  This did
animate him a bit more.  "Fuck me!" he breathed as the panel swung open.  I
opened the door and explained what we'd discovered down below.  At least
about the body.

     "Ya never told me that, Gabe," he said, "Bloody interesting."  He
turned to me.  "Can I see down there."  The light showed up the new, closed
door.

     "Well, that's what I want to talk to your brother and Josh about."

     Thank goodness that was when Josh returned to the room.

     "Got a proposal for you two," I said, as he set down the laden tray.
"Those wall paintings down below..."  Here Josh, the usual straight man in
more senses than one, sniggered.  ".....the faces of most are blurred," I
continued, "they need to be repainted and we think they were stylised
portraits of the originators and their pals...."

     "....I know, I know," said Josh laughing, "You want to know whether
we'd be models.  Not one with a tambourine for me.  That one with the big
todger, though!  Bonzer!"

     Raph looked from Josh to me.  There was a bit more animation.  "What's
this?  What paintings?"

     That meant a full explanation and I managed to draw Gabe into the
conversation with his part in giving me the clue of 'Fiat Lux'.  But there
was still a coolness between the two brothers.  I felt Raph was making an
effort but Gabe was very sparing in his responses where Raph was concerned.
Yep!  They both agreed to be displayed.  Yep!  They had reasonable
photographs.  I had a better idea.  I got my digital camera, bought with
some of Uncle Francesco's modelling money, and took a snap of each.  Tris
had shown me how to load down and print out so I could give the results to
Alistair in the morning.  They wanted to know when they could inspect the
cellars and I said I'd better enquire of the 'Grand Panjandrum', dear
Charles.  After more tea and cake, now sadly depleted, the older pair said
they would go across to the Porter's Lodge and collect their mail.  This
left me with Raph.

     "Would you like to see the rest of my set?" I asked, "That's what we
call our rooms."

     He nodded and I showed him the rest, my study, kitchen, bathroom and
then the bedroom with the two four-poster beds.  I explained I was sharing
with one of the Music students, Oliver Jensen, who would also be a face if
he said 'yes'.  He still looked a bit morose.  Now or never.

     "Are you OK?" I asked.  "You and Gabe don't seem too friendly?  Want
to talk about it?"

     Poor lad.  He sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, put his head in
his hands and I though he was ready to weep.  I sat beside him and he
leaned into me.  Somewhat tentatively I put my arm round his shoulder and
drew him to me.

     "Sorry," he murmured, "Shouldn't be like this.  But everything's been
so sudden and I feel lost."

     "Gabe hasn't forgiven you?"

     He shook his head against me.

     "But he's very happy here," I said, "He's got Lorenzo and Josh and he
gets on well."

     "Yep, don't I bloody know," he said emphatically, "But he thinks I
betrayed him and he resents me for that."

     "And your father?"

     He sniffed.  "Dad got fed up with me not doing anything.  And I fucked
up again with a friend."  He snorted.  "No fucking friend he turned out!"

     "But you're here now and you can make new friends.  How's Brad and the
boys?"

     He managed a laugh.  "Bloody good.  They call me Beefcake and say I'd
better mind my arse!"  He sat up.  "Shouldn't say that."  He shrugged his
shoulders as I let go.  "They've tried their best with me and I'm
grateful."  He drew out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

     "What about Josh?"

     "He's a mate but he has to mind what Gabe thinks."

     "I think your friends here will have to deal with Gabe?"

     "Friends?"

     "Me, Oliver and one or two others."

     He looked a bit puzzled.  "You don't know me?" he said.

     "I've met you today and if you'll allow it I would like to be a
friend.
  Your brother is a good friend of mine and I think I can intercede, with
help.  Are you willing?"

     He looked round at me and the smile was there.  He flung his arms
around me.  "Please!"

     We stood up and went into the main room..  "You know I'm gay?" I said.

     He nodded.  "So's Gabe and it doesn't bother me."  He was silent for a
moment.  "Don't tell Gabe but I'm not sure about myself."

     There was a noise of the returning pair in the entrance hall.

     "Don't say any more now," I said, "Come and have a chat."  I scribbled
on a piece of paper on the piano.  "Here's my mobile number."  He took it
and smiled.  He seemed more relaxed.

     "Fuck me!" came Gabe's less than dulcet tones as he entered the room,
"All this bloody dunny fodder!"  He was carrying a great bundle of the
usual pigeon-hole detritus.  He looked at Raph and me standing side by
side.  He must have sensed something but kept his mouth shut.  I took the
initiative.

     "If you're not doing anything this evening what about me taking you
all out to dinner?"  I knew Gabe liked the Caf‚ Rouge.  "Caf‚ Rouge do?  My
shout.  Uncle Francesco has been generous and I got a modelling fee."  I
pointed at the prominently displayed open lads' magazine on the piano.

     "Bloody hell!" was Josh's response as he gazed at the full page
spread.
  "Bloody set of wankers!"

     I laughed.  "Don't judge everyone by your own habits," I said, "If
you're good you might get an invite next year.  That is, if Unc makes
clothes big enough to fit the pair of you."  I looked at Raph who was
smirking.  "Trendy wear for the musclebound, eh Raph?"

     Gabe did laugh.  "Always fancied you in that green bloody outfit."

     I looked at Raph.  He was about the same size as me.  "Raph can borrow
it tonight if he likes.  No need to go back to Brad's."

     At that moment there was a knock on the door.  It was Charles.

     "My dears, I thought I spied you from my eyrie.  Have you had a good
vacation in glorious Italy?"

     Josh took the initiative.  "Bloody marvellous.  Lo took Gabe off to
visit an Aunt further down so I was left with Raph for a week."

     Charles looked past him.  "And this is the inestimable Raphael, the
affable archangel?  My dear, Charles Fane-Stuart at your service."  He
bowed and held out a be-ringed hand which Raph took rather gingerly then
changed to a hearty handshake.

     "Glad to meet you," he said in a much more positive tone, "Mum always
said I was the sociable angel."

     "Dear Milton's description and I hope it fits," said Charles bowing
his head again, "You must visit Christ's and view his mulberry tree."  I
heard Gabe grunt.

     Better get things fixed.  While the others listened, with Josh
grinning from ear to ear and Gabe beginning to thaw a bit more, I told
Charles of the planned reconstruction of the faces.  He agreed.  I didn't
say which one Alistair had indicated but....  Then I invited him as well to
the meal.  He agreed again.  I thought he might liven things up a bit in
any case.  Charles then suggested Gabe and Josh should move back into their
set even before term began.  He said they wouldn't be charged their lodging
fee as he wanted to see if they approved of the improvements which had been
done while they were away.  He listed three things, a new shower unit, a
new gas fire and a new fridge.

     They went off with Charles to inspect and Raph was again left with me.
We grinned at each other.  "You'll get used to him," I said.

     "I think I have already," was the laconic reply.

     I took him through to the bedroom and laid out the green Matteoli
outfit and left him to change.  It fitted him well and I hoped Gabe would
look on his brother in a more favourable light.

     We had a most convivial evening.  Charles was in his element.  He
liked to spar verbally with Gabe and Gabe responded in kind and even smiled
when his brother joined in and asked questions about the College.  Also,
Josh looked quite relaxed and relieved and I felt I had accomplished
something.

     I achieved something else.  Raphael stayed that night with me.  My
bed.
  The lad who didn't know was a convincing lover.  He confessed he'd had
sex with a couple of girls and two of his mates but he preferred being
bottom, as I knew his brother did.  His smile of triumph as I looked down
on him as I fucked him for the second time and he shot his load quite
spontaneously was proof of his enjoyment of that form of the sexual act.
We lay for a long time after those two intense bouts of lovemaking and
talked as we held each other and felt each other and looked at each other.
Raph was so pleased that his brother seemed to have thawed out towards him.
He was so effusive in his praise I could only silence him by the age-old
method of rolling him diagonally across the bed and indulging in a third,
lengthy sexual session of sixty-nining this time, a technique he hadn't
experienced before.

     After he surfaced and we kissed and shared our almost simultaneous
outpourings he said he never knew that lovemaking could be so incredibly
wonderful.  I thought that too.  Sex of that calibre with a virtually naive
blond angel of a lad was something to savour for a long time.  It was so
like the almost uncountable times with Tris, but then, Tris wasn't naive.
I would have to confess to Tris but I knew he would understand.  Perhaps
Raph would share his sun-kissed frame with Tris as well?  We would have to
see.

     Gabe and Josh appeared for their usual run.  Neither seemed surprised
when Raph appeared all togged out in a spare set of my running gear.  I had
thought they might have assumed Raph had made the journey back to Brad's.
No, both knew full well Raph had stayed the night with me and from the
blissful look on his face they both knew there was little doubt Raph had
enjoyed his stay.  In fact the next day, Gabe, in his usual forthright way
while he, Josh and I were having afternoon tea in my room, thanked me for
showing his brother the 'true path of righteousness', as he put it, and
thought the little bugger had got himself sorted out.  I said it was up to
him now to sort out any differences between the pair of them.  He smiled.
"I'd forgive that little bastard anything.  I've just been a bloody grunt!"
Josh by his side beamed.  I knew he was fond of his young cousin and now
the rift was healed.


     Friday came and Adam appeared again looking happy and well content.
He said he'd checked every date and reference so far needed and had written
up a fair draft of another chapter.  Fast worker!  I said I'd met Gabe's
brother and he raised his eyebrows.  "Met?" he asked.  I think the way I
had rather enthused about him must have given him a clue.  "You watch your
step, me lad," he said, "You upset Tris and your balls are forfeit."  I
said that had been Frankie's threat when I had described Oliver to him.
No!  The bond between Tris and me was too strong.  But, I still had to
confess the 'bit on the side'.  He laughed.  "Shouldn't spread gossip but
Frankie said Bozo's been seen in Tris's company several times."  I would
have to have a serious talk with my young brother.  And Tris!

     I enjoyed the motorbike ride to Ulvescott.  It was a bright, sunny day
and the wind whistled past me as we sped, at a reasonable speed, towards
our goal.  We arrived before Frankie and Tris and after tea with the three
older ones I was shown the computer set up which the Thomson twins had
designed and expanded over the years.  Two young men were busy dealing with
the printouts which were piling up.  I recognised both as having been Final
Year students in College when I was in my First Year.  I was told that the
printouts were analyses of rises and falls in share values so that any
adjustments to investments could be made before stock exchanges closed for
the weekend.  One laughed and said his bonus depended on making the right
judgement.  As some of the amounts being dealt with looked astronomical I
wondered if I should concentrate more on financial analysis and IT and less
on the arcane reaches of Pure Mathematics.  They laughed and said I would
see even more at the Cambridge offices because that was where the big
decisions were made.

     As soon as Tris arrived I went up to Piers' room with him and hugged
him and made my confession.  He hugged me back and made his, too.
Frankie's message to Adam was intended to be passed on.  Tris had initiated
Bozo fully into everything boys could do together.  But, Bozo had now
linked up with the lad he thought might be interested and Tris was now his
confidante as well.  The two lads hadn't gone further than a few chaste
kisses so far but... ....time would tell.  At least Bozo now knew how to
take things further.

     As we lay on the bed just holding each other as we told our tales Tris
gave me a letter from Bozo.  It was full of love and affection for both of
us and the hope that whatever he and Tris had done would not jeopardize our
relationship.  He finished 'If only boys like us could have such tender and
loving friends as you and Tris to guide us always it would make life so
much easier.  This must be true for those who prefer the other path as
well.
  All I hear at school is of worries and frustrations so I count myself so
lucky I have had you and Tris as good and honourable mentors.  My most
grateful thanks, with all my love, James (Bozo) Bowes-Chesterton'.

     So, we had both had adventures outside our partnership.  We laughed
and said perhaps that was our role in life - helping others to come to
terms with their feelings - if so, we had really enjoyed our tutoring.
"Not too much of that good thing," said Tris, "I don't want a clapped-out
old boyfriend who compares me with all the bright young things he's
shagged..."

     I silenced him with a kiss.  "...I did not 'shag' Raph as you so
coarsely put it.  I gave him my love and he accepted it..."

     "....I know, I know," he said and reciprocated the kiss, "It was the
same with me and Bozo.  He's a real charmer and although he has quite a
macho image and body to go with it, he's quite sweet and tender.  I like
him very much and he and Harpo, as they call him, should make a fine
couple."

     "Harpo?"  I asked.

     Tris laughed.  "What else would Frankie, alias Gobbo, call someone who
plays the French Horn and whose surname is Parks?"

     We all assembled for dinner at seven.  Adam and the two old gentlemen
were a bit late as they had retired to the study to discuss what Adam had
been doing during the week.  He looked relieved when they emerged still
talking about some shared experience many years ago.  As we sipped our
pre-prandial drinks it was my turn.  I described what had happened so far
over the cellars and the proposed 'Celebration of the Sacred and Secular'
exhibition.  I had some photos of the middle cellar walls with the
uncovered depictions and there was great hilarity as I passed them round.
I explained that Alistair Jameson was to restore the damaged images to
their former glory and that the blurred faces would be repainted to
commemorate contemporary members of the College who were associated with
the discovery in some way.

     I had just got to that point when dinner was announced and we filed in
and took our places.  There was a quiet murmur as we settled and began our
first course.  It was a tasty light goat's cheese tartlet with a herb salad
and an exquisite dressing.  So, it was while the plates were being removed
and the main course was being served by the usual students from the
Catering College that the elder Doctor Thomson asked whose faces would be
appearing.  I listed Gabriel, as someone who had set off the solution of
the code, Charles, Tris, Josh and so on.  Frankie and Adam were sitting
together and I left them until last.  I said I would be in the main picture
but it was very difficult to decide who would be depicted for the man and
boy picture.  I said I had thought of the Master and one of the
kitchen-boys, which caused quite a giggle from the diners, but there were
three people who had prior claim.

     "Three?" said Frankie, "But there's only two in that picture."

     "You've studied it, then," said the younger Doctor Thomson.

     Toad went a bit red.  "Couldn't help it.  It was the first thing I saw
when it was still mostly covered up."

     "So you wouldn't mind being the lad in the picture as you'll be the
next owner of the cellar?" I asked.

     He went bright red as the full blush appeared.  "Oh, no!" he said,
then giggled again, "Oh, yes please!!"  Everyone laughed, too.  "But who's
going to be the one...."  He stopped before he said 'feeling my balls'.

     "I think a composite of the heavenly twins might be appropriate," I
said, looking straight at Adam sitting opposite.  "But we don't want any
help with the....."  My words were lost in the gale of laughter which
erupted and Adam's blush matched Frankie's.

     Frankie turned to Adam.  "I would be honoured to be seen in your and
Ivo's company - I mean, hands!"

     "Cheeky little..." he started then guffawed himself.  "You annoy me
and I might squeeze!"  He looked across at me.  "OK, I'm in for it.  I'll
phone Ivo tonight and tell him he's there as well.  People can guess whose
face it is really.  There's a scar and a mole between us so both had better
be there!"

     I would also do some phoning later.  Ally had said he would be working
all over the weekend and I'd already given him photos of Frankie and the
Thugs so he could get cracking!

     I then said that Charles Fane-Stuart had found out who had instigated
the whole affair.  I explained it happened in 1769 when the set was shared
by two brothers named Lascelles who had been sent down later for
unCollegiate behaviour..

     There was a gasp and then a stunned silence from most of the assembled
diners.

     "You said Lascelles?" asked the older Doctor Thomson very quietly.

     I nodded.  That name!  It hit me then.  I hadn't taken much notice of
the foreword to the translated book.

     Doctor Thomson smiled and the others all began to laugh again.
"Seventeen sixty- nine you said?"  I nodded.  "The pair who commissioned
that book didn't go to either Oxford or Cambridge and we were puzzled about
that.  They must have been the next generation and they must have been
banned."

     "The brothers who were sent down were found with four boys from the
town," I said.

     "It fits," he said, "None of the family are listed as being students
at Cambridge until the early 1800's once the dust had settled, or the past
events forgotten, I assume.  And certainly not at St Mark's."  He laughed.
"I was at College at Clare with a Lascelles and he was introduced to me,
not in his presence I must add, as the Abominable Arseholes by the Porter.
Apparently it was an inherited family nickname.  Mud sticks and so do
nicknames."

     "But Uncle Chas wasn't like that," said the younger Doctor Thomson,
"He got married and I know one of his sons."

     "I'm sure a brother was.  It certainly ran in that family from what
old Lord Harford told us.  And his grandson, Henry, was almost
certainly...."  He turned to the Colonel.  "...He died recently.  His obit
was in the Times.  Made a fortune importing exotic foods from the
Continent."

     The Colonel snorted.  "And died of some exotic affliction, no doubt.
We had to get him out of a couple of scrapes some years ago even though he
was in the Service."

     I looked around the table.  It was good there were no females present,
I thought.  I wasn't used to open discussions like this with adults, and
elderly ones as well, but no one seemed to mind.  Frankie, I could see, was
all ears.  'The Service', I guessed meant MI5 or whatever.  The look on
Frankie's face showed he'd made the same deduction and he'd want to know
more.  He was itching to ask questions and I bet there would be plenty said
afterwards about 'exotic afflictions'.  Adam's face was a picture, too.  I
waited to see what he had to say.  I wasn't disappointed.

     "There's a Lascelles at St Mark's at the moment," said Adam.  "He's
hyphenated, 'Lascelles-Wright'.  Has St Mark's relented after all these
years?"

     "Safar's coming tomorrow," said the Sheik, "He can tell us.  I'll ask
him to check when I talk to him later."  He looked at me with his dark
eyes.  They seemed to twinkle behind his glasses.  "Any more revelations,
Mark, as I think your brother seems ready to ask questions, too."  He
looked at Frankie who went red again.  "No offence, my boy, but when I was
your age I was as innocent as a new-born lamb.  That was until my
eighteenth birthday and I met Lachlan and his brother and Jacko!"

     Oh dear, that would fuel more questions from Frankie at some point.  I
said that was all I knew.  The relevant passage in the records was in Latin
which always seemed to be used to cover any indelicacies.

     "You'd better start learning Latin, Frankie," said Adam, "Then you
could write your memoirs as well!"

     Poor Frankie.  He was being teased and blushed again.  He wasn't
beaten.  He looked at the Sheik.  "All yours are in English, sir?"

     The Sheik laughed.  "I can assure you all are in English though I do
mention one or two items in Arabic - but nothing sensational.  Nothing to
bring a blush to a maiden's or a young gentleman's cheek."  He had the
measure of Frankie who saw the joke and grinned.


     That night in Piers' room Tris and I made love so quietly, but so
passionately, flooding each other with our joy and complete harmony, we
knew that any other ventures were minor in comparison with our
togetherness.  In one single act of love we made up for the time we had not
been together.  Tomorrow would give us another opportunity to accumulate
even more sufficiency to carry us through to another weekend.

     The weekend passed much too quickly.  Safar said as far as he knew
no-one had questioned Christopher Lascelles-Wright's application so College
memories didn't go back as far as the 1700's even if some of his colleagues
looked pretty ancient.  There was some discussion about family trees but we
would have to wait to see if he was related in any way to the miscreants.
Doctor Thomson said he would get in touch with the present Lord Harford who
he knew well and Adam said he would quiz Christopher carefully at the
beginning of term when he was in College again.  Another little mystery to
clear up.

     The journey back with Jak and Max was full of fun and gossip.  They
said if ever I was stuck I could find a job with them as long as I didn't
spend too long losing my computer virginity as I put it.  I heard more
about the family and its ramifications and how Jak and Saf got their names.
Jak said how his Uncle Lachs, the Colonel, was convinced my brother was a
reincarnation of Flea, his own long dead golden-haired brother.  Frankie
might be black- haired and head and shoulders taller but he had that spark
and that twinkle.
  Huh, I'd give him twinkle, I said, and rather naughtily recounted his
loss of virginity and the subsequent pursuit of Minky.  They laughed.  Jak
said how impressed his brother had been at the way Frankie had interacted
with his two boys.  In fact, young Jeremy was constantly asking 'when was
Frankie coming to see them?'.  I said I had no doubt that Frankie would get
married and he would have sons to take to Ulvescott, too.  He just had to
find someone who could cope with his incessant demands and that wouldn't be
easy.

     "Straights don't know they've lived." said Max, " "I spent five years
fucking everything on two legs.  In fact one of my friends said anything
with three as well if the dog stood still but that was a damned lie!"

     Jak just laughed again.  "He's settled now and I have no trouble with
him.  I just have to report to my dear brother who is so, so, inquisitive."

     I said how like Adam and Ivo he and Saf were.  Was it being twins?

     "No, it's being part of the family," said Jak.

     Monday afternoon I went and had a look at the set-up in the very
modern building in the Cambridge Science Park.  I was bemused by the number
of work stations, as they called them, all busily manned, or womanned, with
an air of quiet efficiency and purpose.  I met Khaled Al-Hamed and he said
I was welcome to visit anytime.  He'd heard all about me from his brother
and he and Troy, his partner, had thoroughly enjoyed my father's recital,
the family do and my recital.  I hadn't realised he had been there.  "You
need anything, let me know!" was his final remark.

     Tuesday afternoon Jak and Max came with me to see the cellars.  They
were most impressed - even more when they saw what Ally had accomplished in
the middle cellar.  "Just like that bloody book!" was Max's comment.  Jak
said the only thing missing on the representation of me and my brother were
the birthmarks.  I had to explain to Ally and both Jak and I were commanded
to lower our trousers so he could copy the marks on the appropriate
figures.  That evening I took the pair out to dinner, and Damien and Ally
came along, too.  It was a most enjoyable time but, sadly, we all parted
afterwards and I never found out how far up those lovely, long, hairy legs
went.  Anyway, it was quite evident that dear Ally was quite, quite
straight!

     I spent the rest of the time that second week practising the piano,
playing the harpsichord and finishing off my contemplation of James
Tanner's manuscript and the problems he had set at the end of each chapter.
The note on his door must have meant a future Wednesday as he still wasn't
around.  On Thursday the organ builder pronounced the organ fit to play and
I spent an hour trying out all the stops over his lunch-time while he sat
at the back of the Chapel with his assistant and they ate their sandwiches.
All was well, just a couple of minor adjustments to the 8ft Gedackt on the
Choir and the Swell Oboe were needed.  I played for another hour after they
had gone and decided that if I was going to try for the Fellowship after
Christmas I'd better do some serious practice and do some study for the
Paperwork part of the exam.  I wasn't too bothered about the
Extemporisation section as I enjoyed playing with themes and snatches of
the hymns and extending these.  I remembered this was the part of the exam
which worried Matt Thyssen so much and we'd taken turns in choosing bits of
hymn-tunes which he had to work on.  He passed so that was an indication
for me that I could do as well if not better.

     I arranged with Charles for Jason to be let off the lead, as I put it,
on Friday morning and gave him an hour's lesson on the organ.  He said he'd
taken Grade Eight at Easter and had passed. He never told me he'd passed at
Distinction level.  Liam told me that later with quiet pride.

     I met Tris at the Bus Station on Friday afternoon and we could hardly
wait to get back to my rooms.  After that bout of sensuousness we went off
to the Club to see what the arrangements were for Whippet's send-off on
Saturday evening.  Shawn was setting up a surprise happening and we didn't
enquire too far.  He was rather worried though.  Bulgy's main help in
serving drinks to customers had gone to a job in a big gay bar in London
and assistance was needed.  In my talks with Raph I found he'd earned money
when he was spent out serving in a Sydney bar.  I had his mobile number and
asked if he would like to earn some cash.  He was intrigued.  I explained
it was the gay Club that Brad and all us others frequented and luckily he
had turned eighteen just three weeks before so was eligible for membership
and employment there.  As an aside I said we would mind his arse as I
politely put it .  He gave a throaty laugh, and said he knew Brad was
getting ready to go out so he would tag along.

     Even just standing behind the bar that evening he was a sensation.  I
said if he wanted he could pop into College Saturday morning and he could
have my green Matteoli outfit.  With that on he would be a walking advert
as well as looking quite phenomenal and bewitching to the clientele.  So
Saturday morning it was Tris's turn to be introduced to the ravishing, and
somewhat ravished, angelic lad.  They got on so well I wondered if Tris
would bed him straight away.  As it was we took him into Hall for lunch
with the few undergraduates and postgraduates around and he got approving
stares especially from a covey of elderly dons on High Table.

     "Going to come here," he breathed as he surveyed the panelled walls
and the ancient oil-paintings.  He smiled.  "I'm taking my A levels this
year.  D'ya think I've a chance?"

     Having seen the glances from a don I knew taught Economic History I
suggested he applied for Economics.  He smiled again.  "I'm doing that for
A Level!"  You're in, my boy, I thought!  Just work hard.  Especially on
that smile.

     After he'd gone off back to Brad's bearing a Moss Bros bag with the
Matteoli outfit in it there was another surprise.  Tris and I were about to
prepare afternoon tea when who should bang on the door but Oliver
accompanied by Zack.  Of course, Whippet was Zack's idol and now he was
eighteen himself he could come to the Club.

     "Bit of a surprise for Dude," explained Oliver, "He hasn't a clue that
Zack will be there.  In fact he's in for a big surprise."

     Neither would let on what was to happen and after they'd scoffed the
cakes I'd earmarked for Sunday's tea they went off with Zack looking quite
animated - not the usual rather solemn lad.  Tris looked at me.  "I thought
that pair were well-suited when we were at the Villa - they certainly are
now!"

     The Club was crowded when we arrived.  There was an air of
ill-concealed excitement.  Something was afoot.  Brad was already there
with Carlo and Davy plus his son and his friend.  Jonty was hovering
looking smug about something but there was no Danny.  There was a smiling
Raph already behind the bar and Bulgy-Boy took over so Raph could bring us
our drinks.

     "Bloody hell!" he murmured as he bent down to set my drink on the
table, "It's fucking fantastic.  Had three five pound notes tucked into me
keks already!"

     Tris overheard this.  "If you like I'll help you get them out if they
go down too far.  I've got slim hands."

     He got the electrifying smile.  "Might take you up on that, mate, if I
get outta here alive."  He nodded towards the bar.  "There's a couple of
oldies there who keep peeping at me goods."

     I recognised Godfrey and his friend who propped up the bar most
nights.
  "Don't worry," I said, "Keep the drink flowing to them.  You'll need to
call a taxi for them later but get Bulgy-Boy to see them to it.  He's their
boy."

     He nodded.  "Thanks.  Don't want to upset him.  He's great!  God! he
must have a big'un!"

     "Not from what we've heard," Tris whispered.

     That smile again.  "Gotta find out!"

     He gave us the thumb's up and went round taking more orders.

     Gabe and Lorenzo, with Josh in tow, sauntered in, not spotting Raph.
"There's a bloody turn-out tonight," said Gabe as he dropped heavily onto
the seat next to me.  "I'm buggered.  Spent the afternoon with the weights.
Need a drink."  He turned to Lorenzo and Josh who had drawn up chairs in
his wake.  "Usual?"  They nodded.  Gabe stuck a meaty paw up in the air.
What that would accomplish in the crowd I didn't know.  But...  A green-
shirted and tight-trousered figure appeared with three large gin and tonics
clinking with ice and a slice of lime, their 'usual' as they'd moved on
from the Diet Cokes on their initial visits.  It took a moment for Gabe to
recognise the figure as he reached for the tall glass.

     "Fucking Hell!"  He appraised the smiling Viking with the shiny blond
pony-tail.  "Raph, you're a fucking beaut!"  He turned to Lorenzo.
"Whadd'ya say, Lo?  Look at me little brother."  He shook his head.
"Fucking beaut!"

     Raph gave him a dazzling smile.  "Gotta rush, Gabe, very busy
tonight."
  He turned and went quickly back to the bar with Gabe staring at his
retreating figure and slowly shaking his head.  "Fucking beaut!"  he said
quietly as he turned to look at his beloved Lorenzo and his adored cousin
Josh.  I was about to say something but was interrupted by seeing Oliver
peering across the crowd to find us in our usual place.  He was with Dude.
No Zack?  He held a finger up to his lips as he pushed through following
the burly Dude.  Tris had seen him, too, and we both knew not to ask
questions.

     As Dude came over and sat by Brad he looked rather puzzled.  "What the
Hell!" he said as he adjusted his leather chaps as he sat down, "There's a
crowd here tonight and the bastards kept grinning at me as I came through."

     "Must be the new hat," Brad said, "I haven't seen 'Kiss Me Quick' on
one since a trip to Blackpool."

     Dude looked even more puzzled and whipped his cap off and peered at
it.
  "You're pulling me pisser, Chief!" he said when he realised there was no
offending inscription.  He was stopped from any more comments by Raph
coming up and placing three bottles of the non-alcoholic lager he always
drank on the table in front of him.

     "Compliments of the Management," he announced and went off speedily
back to the bar.

     "Oh fuck, Chief!  Did I just see your new lodger?  You've got him
working here?  No wonder everyone's out in force.  They're all hoping for a
piece of the action except he's straight!"

     I was sitting opposite and just grinned to myself.  Something you
don't know, mate, I thought.  Dude took a backwards look at Raph now
picking up a tray of orders from Bulgy- Boy.

     "Isn't that your outfit he's wearing?" he asked, looking across at me.

     "Yes," I said airily, "Bit of advertising for my Uncle and I'll get a
percentage of the profits.  I've had seventeen orders already."  I pulled
out a piece of paper from my pocket on which I'd scribbled a couple of
phone numbers.  "Need anything trendy to liven up your image a bit when
you're up in the Smoke?"

     He realised I was pulling his pisser as well as Tris had let out a
guffaw.  "I'll fucking Smoke you!" he said laughing, "I'll find my own way
round the London scene, thank you!  But something like that wouldn't come
amiss!"  He grinned at me and, clasping his hands, displayed his biceps and
pecs swelling out his shirt and leather jacket.

     That gave me a great idea.  The three muscly naked Satyrs needed
faces, too.  Charles was convinced the originals were Fellows of the
College, or even the Master, of the time.  Brad, Dude and Carlo!  Knowing
that something was planned for the evening I'd slung my digital camera
round my neck and had already taken a couple of pics of Jonty and one of
the other lads dancing.  Brad and Dude had seen the originals so here goes.

     I leaned across the table and with Tris's helpful interjections said
about the plans for the faces of the participants in the revels, but....
Here I paused.  "...There are three special figures and we assume they're a
bit older than those others..."  Tris let out another guffaw, he had
realised the way the story was going.  "...We need three a little more
mature faces.  Still handsome, a little bearded perhaps..."  Here I looked
at Brad who was beginning to chuckle.  "...But..."  Here I was interrupted
by Brad.

     "No good looking at those two," he said pointing at Dude and Carlo,
"They've got nothing to compare with what I saw a couple of weeks ago when
Nat showed me round again.  I think I match up to 'Festina Lente'."  He
pointed to Dude again.  "I'll relent.  Tiny Todge there can be the Greek
and that beefy bugger.." pointing at a puzzled Carlo, "...can be 'Hasten
Slowly'!  Matches his wits."

     Having witnessed and experienced Dude's 'Tiny Todge' in action I knew
it wasn't far off the massive erection on the first Satyr and I was sure
the 'beefy bugger' was well-hung, too, from the definite erections he had
most evenings after dancing with Davy and what I'd felt pressed against me
on several occasions as we'd shimmied across the floor.  All had to be
explained to Carlo as he hadn't seen the cellars yet.  I had photos in my
camera so he peered at them with a 'Bloody Hell!' as each was revealed.

     "You want my face on that one?" he said as he pointed at the third
Satyr with the drum and stick.  "What's my Mum going to say when she sees
that thing?"

     "Must have seen it plenty of times when she was changing your
nappies."  said Tris.

     "Grown since then," said a grinning Carlo.

     There was a chorus of 'Boast!', 'Bet it hasn't!' and 'Check it!"

     He shook his head, then grinned and looked at Brad.  "If the Chief has
his face up there, I will."  He jabbed his finger at Brad, "And, Sir, we'll
forget the jibe about my wits!"

     I took three quick pictures before there was any more argument.  I
wondered how long they would remain anonymous.  I guessed there would be
much speculation about all the models anyway.  As Satyrs, Dude and Carlo
would have beards added anyway, but as Brad already had a neat one I would
have to get Alistair to emphasize the shagginess of the Satyr with the
pipes to keep everyone guessing.

     The noise in the Club was rising steadily as people started to gather
round closer to us.  I noted that both Bulgy-Boy and Raph were handing out
drinks to everyone.  There was a tray brought over and placed on our table.
A drink for all of us sitting there.  As soon as that was set down there
was a loud hooting noise and a trolley was pushed in from the other room.
On it was a painted-up cardboard representation of a huge cake with 'Best
wishes Dude', ''Ello, 'Ello, 'Ello', and 'Good Luck from All!' emblazoned
round it with stars, hearts and stripes of various colours completing the
design.

     The trolley stopped by our table and, to a roll of drums over the
sound system and a great cheer from everyone crowded round, the top burst
open and three glistening tanned figures appeared from inside the cake.
Each was wearing an imitation policeman's helmet found in any tourist shop
on Oxford Street, each had an old-fashioned policeman's moustache glued on,
and each brandished a policeman's truncheon, all carved suspiciously with
what looked like a dick head on the end.  Two of the lads had a pair of
furry joke handcuffs in their other hands but the third had a silver
replica of the motorbike Dude was so proud of.  The three leapt from the
cake and the place exploded with wolf-whistles and even more cheers.

     Two were Danny and Curt, the third was Zack who held out the bike to a
startled Dude.  The wolf-whistles and cheers were because each was nude
other than wearing a tight- fitting, well-filled, silver lame jockstrap.
Ouch, Zack's sun-tanned bubble-butt had been a constant erection maker on
holiday and here it was again in full view.  I had an immediate reaction.
Tris must have guessed as I felt a hand over my equipment and a slow
squeeze occurred.  "Got to keep you under control, young man," he
whispered.

     "Do that a bit more and I'll cum in my pants," I whispered back.  The
hand was removed.  I looked round at him.  He had a great smirk on his
face.  "Same!"  he mouthed.

     A microphone was thrust into Zack's hand.  "From all of us, with love
and best wishes.  We'll make sure you don't have to feel our collars...."
The mike was snatched from him by the winsomely handsome Curt.  "...You can
feel mine any time!..."  The third, a lithe and well-toned Danny, leaned
over, "...And anywhere else!"

     The uproar increased and not only Raph received notes and coins thrust
at him as the three lads clustered round a laughing and blushing Dude,
shaking his hand and giving him a kiss each.  I managed to stick some coins
down the front of each jockstrap and, when the three at last pushed their
way through the throng, three weighed down jangling pouches were much in
evidence.

     The rest of us then toasted Dude who, sport that he was, stood up and
held his bottle high.  "Any of you lot around Westminster any time will
feel my boot up your backside...."  he paused, "...Unless you accept a
drink tonight!  Drinks all round!"  He pointed the bottle at Bulgy-Boy and
Raph who seemed to be already primed with laden trays.

     I don't remember much more as I imbibed a bit more than usual but did
recollect being poured out of a taxi at the back gate of the College and
finally helping Tris as we stripped each other off and fell into bed.  I
woke on Sunday morning with a small man hammering my brain and something
over the lower half of my face.  The little man's hammering diminished
somewhat as I took a couple of deep breaths and opened my eyes.  My deep
breaths had detected a slight sweaty smell coupled with the aroma of an
expensive body spray.  The object draped over my chin was Zack's silver
lame jockstrap.  I turned and peered at the other bed.  Two heads were side
by side on the pillows.  Of course, Oliver and Zack.

     Yes, I remembered a bit more.  Dancing with the three almost nude lads
in turn and Tris taking our photos.  I remembered also a hurried visit to
the bogs to wipe up the results of the spontaneous emission I'd had when
being in Zack's clutches.  I sniffed again.  There was a third rather
familiar odour.  I put up a hand and felt the pouch.  It was more than
damp.  I grinned.  I hope Zack came when I did.  He must have guessed about
me, too.  I looked across again as I held that moistness and put it to my
nose again.  Oh God!  Just that caused the hardest and strongest erection I
regularly experienced.  I turned to Tris who was spooned, still asleep,
into my back.  I woke him with gentle nuzzles, kisses and caresses and two,
totally in love, nude boys drew each other's morning outbursts with firm
movements of clenching fists.  Two streams of warm semen were merged as we
held each other tightly and feathered each other's lips with tongues as our
passion abated and we lay content and satiated.

     As we lay in our own serene calm Tris rubbed his cheek against mine as
we were both beginning to be aware of the muffled sounds of intense
intimacy taking place in the adjoining bed.  I thought we'd been so quiet
but even the slight movements and murmurs we had made must have woken and
alerted the other pair.  Soon there was a more than audible gasp from Zack
followed by a quieter exhalation from Oliver as two other lads reached the
apices of their love for each other.  There was a stillness for at least
another quarter of an hour while four youngsters luxuriated in the
aftermath of such intense sexual feelings.  Tris broke the spell.  Our
spunk had almost dried because of the heat of our bodies so we were
slightly stuck together as we moved apart.  "Gotta pee," he whispered as he
slid out of bed on his side furthest from the other bed.  The urgency could
not have been too great as he slipped round the front of our bed and
lightly kissed the two cheeks facing each other on the other bed.  "Love
you both," I heard him whisper as he then went to the lav.

     Two heads turned to look at me.  I held up the jockstrap and grinned.
"Thanks, I love you, too," I whispered as well.  Two lithe bodies separated
and joined me in my bed with hugs and kisses.  By the time Tris came back
we were giggling as Zack said he'd realised I'd had a 'little accident', as
he put it, and this had caused the same for him just as we had parted
company at the end of the dance and he was rushing back to where his
clothes were in a side room.  "Thought I'd drip on the floor if I didn't
hurry."  He laughed.  "His idea to put it on you."  Poor Oliver.  Tris and
I rolled onto him and I had the pleasure of making a nosebag for him of the
pouch of the jockstrap so he could inhale the scents of his lover.  He made
no effort to remove it as we let go of him.  "My Zack," he murmured.  Zack
put his head over him and kissed his lips, the pouch between them.  They
both inhaled deeply and kissed again.

     I needed a pee too, so went to the bathroom and then put the electric
kettle on and got the teapot and mugs ready.  When I returned the three of
them were in a huddle on the bed with Oliver and Zack either side of Tris
with Tris wearing the jockstrap like a scrum-cap.  "Might borrow this
anyway for the first match I play for the Old Boys.  It'll cause a
sensation when I strip off after the game.  Better than Tolly Powers last
year here with his Union Jack jock."  He leered at me.  "Might get a few
offers!  Your pal Milton's in the team and I know he fancied you."

     "He did not fancy me," I said archly, "We were just good friends."

     "Thank goodness for that," said Tris, "I don't think I could have
competed with what he's got!"

     While we drank our morning cuppa, interspersed with Zack and Oliver
also needing to pee, stories of school-life were recounted and each
confessed of making surreptitious, and sometimes more than surreptitious,
inspections of other lads' equipment.  Zack said here was one weedy lad in
their Lower Sixth who had the most ginormous hanging dong but bemoaned the
fact he could never get a full erection.  He said a couple of the others
had measured it and it was nearly eight inches, down or up.  Oliver
admitted he liked to see lads with low-hanging balls.  As Zack had a very
nice, well-formed pair that was a plus for him.  Yep, mine weren't too bad
either and I expect that was another reason Oliver and I hit it off so
well.  But then, my Tris.  I worshipped his set.  That lovely, foreskin
capped length and those golden haired, softly skinned plums that hung
below.  I could never get enough of just holding those hard centred orbs in
the palm of my hand revelling in the weightiness of those mighty producers
of his most delicious boycream.  I knew his greatest delight as we set out
on any of our sexual encounters was just to hold my own balls in his hand,
perhaps, just for a few seconds, but enough time to know that somewhere
within a production line was busy creating my own copious boyjuice just for
him to receive with all my love.

     We didn't go for a run that morning.  An hour just sitting or lying in
bed experiencing the true companionship of four young males, all in the
prime of their sexual being, was too precious to break up too suddenly.
Tris was the first to move again.  "Have a shower and I'll get breakfast
ready.  Something substantial to get our energy back."

     Four contented and happy young men, clean and now sweet-smelling, sat
and munched through cereals, then plates of eggs, bacon and fried tomatoes
and, finally, demolished almost a full pot of Cooper's Oxford Marmalade on
masses of toast.  I thought, Sainsbury's here I come!

     "Can I always be as happy as this?" murmured Zack, as he set down his
mug after the third filling of coffee.

     "Don't raise your hopes, young'un," said Tris, emptying the remains of
the cafetiere into his own mug, "You come here as Servant of the Chapel and
you'll have every Tom, Dick and Henry wanting you to hear their confessions
because they mistake you for the Chaplain and all the young ladies wanting
to meet you in the vestry after the services and then there's the endless
lectures and the boring essays and the dons grumbling because you've missed
out an apostrophe and Charles wringing his hands and wanting to know why
you haven't scrubbed the stairs properly after some rugger-bugger has
sicked his guts up..."

     Zack laughed.  "...I think I can cope with all that lot, other than
the young ladies in the vestry, and I'll hear your confessions anytime!
Anyway, I'm not here yet." He grinned.  "I do have an interview at the
beginning of October."  He put his hands together.  "You'd better pray for
me!"

     I looked at him.  That very solemn lad, protecting his sister from
unwanted predators in that shop, was now blossoming out into the most
wonderful, lively young man.  I looked at Oliver across the table.  He
looked me straight in the eyes and nodded.  He recognised it, too.  And
Oliver, that once uncertain lad was now so confident in himself and was so
in love.  Long may it last.

     Sunday couldn't last.  We went out and had a convivial lunch in a caf‚
along Bridge Street and who should come trundling in but Stephen Hawking.
We watched covertly as he passed in his chair and Tris whispered after he'd
gone through, 'Isaac Newton's successor!'.  True.

     That day came to an end much too quickly.  We walked the pair to the
Bus Station.  We wished them well and made arrangements for their next
visit.  Oliver and I walked back to College without saying a word most of
the way.  He was going to get his clobber out of store and move in with me
so that was a plus.  He was going to have Tris's old desk and cupboard in
the bedroom to work.  We would be able to practice together.  He was due to
take his LRAM at Christmas so on our return I accompanied him while he
played through a couple of his exam pieces.  As I was scheduled to give a
recital in the Chapel in November I had the bright idea that he should take
part, too.  Oboe and harpsichord and I could play some of my favourite
Scarlatti as well.  We would have to sort out a couple of suitable pieces
for us to play.

     Charles came along during the evening and while we had a drink gave us
the list for the guests for the new Dining Room and it's opening.  It held
thirty when full so as well as College dignitaries like the Master,
Chaplain, Dean and Bursar there were half and half dons and students to
make up the rest.  I saw James Tanner and Safar were on the list as well as
the Economics Lord.  Miss Anstruther-Lamb was there as well with Aubrey
Fullerton and amongst the students were the President of the Students'
Union, Captains of various teams, then me, as Pennefather Scholar, Boz,
Oliver, Fiona and Dina with Gabe and Josh representing the 'Colonials' as
we said.  'Sub fusc' garb was indicated so we would have to check on suits
and white shirts and polished shoes.

     "I am so pleased that all is going well," said Charles as we read
through the list and then the menu.  "If the new second chef lives up to
expectations the enterprise should help to put the College on the map even
more.  With that and the income expected from the exhibition we should be
able to commission the building at Hampton House without delay."

     "You certainly have worked hard," I said and meant it.  Charles was
devoted to the College.  "And the opening of the Exhibition is scheduled
for the public on the Monday after term starts as well, right?  A very busy
day!"

     "All we ask is for a fair wind for the final preparations.  I shall be
at the British Library tomorrow to collect the portfolio of reproductions
of the books.  Crispin Palfrey is driving me there and Jenny Masterton is
coming as well.  She has written the booklet which we hope the printers
will have ready in time..."  He was ticking things off on upraised fingers.
"..We shall have to wait for the main selection of postcards as I have
commissioned young Leonard Dalrymple to make a complete record of as much
of the find as possible and of the rooms when ready.  In the meantime we
shall have to make do with about six assorted views of the relics which
have already been prepared."  He shook his head.  "There is the question of
copyright of the panoramas in the rooms and of your particular cellar.  I
would suggest an extra charge for the use of cameras as we would not be
able to hold back the enthusiastic Japanese for one moment.  Do you agree?
A proportion to be devoted to the Pennefather Scholar's musical interests,
perhaps."  He looked at me.  I must have looked blank.  "I will discuss it
with Aubrey Fullerton and ask him to draw up a suitable document in
conjunction with your friend Mr Van Zyl."  I nodded.

     When he went I breathed a sigh of relief.  OK, OK, the discovery had
been stupendous but I didn't want to be bothered during this my most
important year.  And, I still had to contemplate my own future.  Still,
Oliver and I would be sharing and he was a most agreeable companion.  We
had an unspoken agreement there would be no sexual activity between us.
Lonely beds but love in our hearts!


To be continued: