Date: Thu, 4 Jun 2009 11:17:26 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Marks:  Seq 20

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq 20:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster                     The story-teller: Newly graduated.
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams     His well-proportioned boyfriend.
Francis Michael Foster               Alias Toad/Gobbo   Mark's younger brother
Shelley Price-Williams               Tris's sister
Adam Benjamin Carr                  Mark's cousin: newly appointed History Fellow
Ivo Richie Carr                            Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat
Sophia Carr                                 Their mother in Dorset
George Carr                                 Their father: A farmer
Victoria ['Tory] Carr                   Ivo's wife
George Henry Carr                      Ivo and 'Tory's son: A few hours old
Sir Henry Machin                        'Tory's father, something in the City
Lady Mary Machin                      'Tory's mother
Ignasz Zendener                           The hotel manager in Strelzen
Tomas, Igor, Frantischek;            Receptionists and students
Aloys zum Adamszberh               Rector of the Rodolfer University
Jerzy zum Adamszberh                His son, studying at Cambridge
Tadeuz Galenosz                          A botanist, also at Cambridge
Herr Diesselhorst                          A shifty Minister of the Interior
Dr Claude Valentin                      Organist of the Cathedral of St Vitali
Andrei zu Glottenberh                  Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services]
Lucasz Voynovich                        Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division]
Dr Paul Mossman                         Historian from Harvard



			     Tuesday Lunchtime

     I waved the mobile at Tris.  Paul Mossman must have thought he had two
lunatics in tow as we did a little dance and laughed delightedly.  We did
quieten down, luckily there were no bystanders to witness our frivolity.
We explained to Paul what had happened.

     "My sister's just had one, too, six weeks ago," he said.  "Make you
feel old being an Uncle!"

     "I'm not quite an Uncle," I said, "I think it's second cousin, as Ivo
is my first cousin and not my brother."

     "Trust you to be pedantic!  I want to be Uncle Tris!"  Tris pouted.

     "I think we'll be honorary Uncles anyway," I said, hoping to mollify
the dear soul.

     "You will be," said Paul.  "I have about five assorted relations who
insist I'm Uncle.  Trouble is, it costs me when their birthdays come
round."

     "Right, you can be Uncle and buy the prezzies!" I said to Tris,
"Lawyer's fat salary!"

     Of course, explanations had to made and we made our relationship quite
clear.  Paul wasn't concerned.  He showed us a photo of his fiancee and if
he was appointed to a post in a University after his post-doc came to an
end they were getting married.  Anyway, over a quick lunch in a little cafe
I gave him Dr Stein's address in Edinburgh and the lowdown on Michaelhouse
and said I would contact James Tanner to make any introductions to the
Librarian for him.

     "Try for an appointment there," I said, "You would have a job for
life.  There must be years of work in that labyrinth.  That is, if you can
sort out the secret of the shelving."

     He was very intrigued with the number patterns involved and was rather
bemused when I said he'd better take plenty of electric cabling!  I think
his opinion of the English as eccentric was heightened somewhat!  Anyway,
he said he hoped we'd sort out the herbs and the house and he would
definitely be at the organ recital.

     We left him just before two o'clock and hurried to the Botanic Garden.
As we walked I asked Tris if he had noted the coincidence of the Leopold in
the two documents.  The warrant for the appointment and Mr X's burnt one.
I said perhaps what Adam had told us was a red herring and perhaps Mr X
might have been confused, too.

     "Yes, it's something to check on when we can.  It seems to be a common
name around here and I don't think Mr X was certain who it referred to.  It
must have been one of Curt's ancestors, though.  He's in for a few
surprises."  He glanced at his watch.  "Better keep all that under our
proverbial hats as we have exactly two minutes to get to the Gardens."

     Dead on two o'clock we arrived but no sign outside of Jerzy and Tad.
There were plenty of notices in both Rothenian and German at the entrance
behind the very imposing statue of Heinrich II, the founder of the garden,
and we saw a couple of directional arrows.  Tris had a dictionary so
'Auskunft' was what we wanted.  One of the young ladies in the Enquiry
Office spoke good English and when we explained we were supposed to be
meeting up with Tadeuz Galenosz she smiled and stopped a youngish man who
was going into an office.

     "Professor Pelzer," she called out.  He came across and Tris explained
about meeting Tadeuz and Jerzy to discuss where we might locate suppliers
of various herbs and plants.

     He grinned as he read the list which Tris showed him.  "Come to my
office," he said "Tadeuz is one of my students.  I saw him just now going
into a greenhouse."  He led us through to a roomy office with a couple of
benches down one side with a collection of microscopes and other equipment
neatly arrayed.

     He wanted to know why we wanted the material and I explained about the
College liqueur.  Just at that moment a breathless Tad appeared followed by
a laughing Jerzy.

     "I am so sorry," he said after the usual handshakes all round, "I was
looking at a hybrid I have grown for my dissertation.  Three of the plants
are just appearing above the soil level in the pots.  I am so glad as the
seeds might have been sterile."

     "You are sure?" asked the Professor.

     "Yes, the leaves are correct," he replied, "Pavlo has prepared
everything while I have been away in Cambridge and he is sure also."

     It was explained that Pavlo was the greenhouse assistant who looked
after the planting of seeds and tended the plants as they grew.  The hybrid
was something Tad had spotted growing by a pathway near his home next to a
field belonging to his family and had collected seeds from it last year.
From the discussion I got the impression it was some form of short-stalked
barley which he had noticed had very large seeds in the ears.  At last
after a further dialogue in Rothenian the Professor seemed convinced with
what Tad had been saying and turned to us.

     "I must apologise, but this hybrid might be quite important.  But we
must look at your problem now."  He scanned the list again.  "It is
interesting.  You have twelve specimens listed here and all of them grow in
Rothenia.  I think you will find they all appear in one area.  I mean,
although some appear elsewhere in the country all twelve grow in one
particular region...."  We followed him across the room to where there was
a large map of the country with various areas marked out.  "...Tad, you
have seen the list, can you tell me where I should point?"

     I had given Tad the list as well.  He smiled.  "It would depend if
there are low areas as well as high and for some they would need more
South.  I have been with you to the mountains and have seen the gentians.
The first is acaulis but the second is rather special, it is clusii.  The
myrtle is a common bush and likes sun." He pointed at the name on the list.
"The next is balm and that is found on the low land.  That is melissa
officinalis."  He went to the map.  "I would say here."  He pointed at the
lower right hand side.  Wow!  The Tirolen region again.

     "Yes, I agree," said the Professor, "Each of these plants grows there.
I think you will have to go to Rechtenberg.  I will give you the names of
two of my friends who have a centre there for medicinal plants.  Very
popular now...."

     "...Do they grow gingko?" asked Tris, "Two people staying in our hotel
are looking for supplies of that."

     The Professor laughed.  "I know.  Two young Englishmen visited here
yesterday and I have told them to visit my friends.  They have a great
interest in that plant and send many seedlings to Germany."  He pointed at
the map.  "They have a small nursery in this valley here where it is grown.
I think they are going there tomorrow."

     We asked about collecting plants.  The Professor said there were laws
about taking wild plants but there were numerous small-holdings where
plants, especially herbs, were grown commercially.  His friends would help
in locating them.

     We thanked the Professor for his time and information and he was most
interested that we were now off to the Cathedral so I could practise for
the recital.  He said he would attend with his wife and son who was ten and
was quite musical.  Tad said if we would like to see his plants first then
Jerzy could drive us to the Domshorja, the hill in the Old City on which
the Cathedral stood.  Good.  We wouldn't have to hurry down for a tram.
So, after staring at half a dozen small green shoots we were whisked along
side roads and arrived at the Cathedral with several minutes to spare.  Tad
was quite excited about the plant hunt and Jerzy said he would pick us up
at nine o'clock, Thursday morning.  As we got out of the car Tris handed
over fifty euros for petrol and said we would pay any other expenses.
Jerzy laughed.

     "As we visit Rechtenberg my Uncle has his farm in a valley near there
and my Grandfather's house is above the village further on.  It is called
Rotehalsc.  You would say 'Red Hall' I think.  It is built of local stone
and was once a beautiful house."  He shook his head..  "Grandfather had to
get out when the Germans were here in the War and then the Communists let
him back as it was much ruined."  He smiled.  "He would be glad to see us.
I was born in the village there and we can stay in the house for the night
as it is summer and the rooms will not be damp!"

     Tad was laughing.  "We went there last summer and there was no glass
in the windows of our room."

     "It is OK now.  Uncle Friedrich has made many repairs this year," said
Jerzy, "He will retire soon and wants to live in the house so my Aunt can
look after Grandfather.  Grandfather is stubborn though and his housekeeper
and cook are nearly as old as he is.  My cousin Wilhelm will take over the
farm when he finishes at the agricultural college."

     We waved them 'au revoir' and went into the Cathedral.  We were quite
early and no one was around so the Chapter meeting wasn't over and to fill
the time Tris showed me where he thought the Guthlac Chapel was.  I looked
around and found a number of leaflets and one was in English.  Yes, it was
the one!  It was locked and there was no information in the leaflet, just
that it was 'Privaat'.  We wandered back to the stairs under the organ loft
looking at the various monuments on the way and Dr Valentin appeared
mopping his brow with a large handkerchief.  He waved it in front of him.

     "Do not get involved with priests," he almost hissed, "They fight like
cats for their own piece of meat!  I will be glad when His Eminence comes
back to keep them from arguing.  Poor Father Artur got shouted at when he
asked a simple question.  Oh, why did we have to lose the Monsignor?  Even
at his age he kept them in order.  But, these are our problems."  He tucked
the handkerchief away.  "Let us go up."

     The next hour was bliss.  I did manage to put a foot wrong on a couple
of occasions as the distances on the pedal-board were less than I was used
to, but no matter, I knew where I had to be careful.  Dr Valentin had some
new ideas about the registration for the Rheinberger so I had plenty of
practice for that piece.  We had to finish just before five as there were
services in three of the side chapels starting then, including a baptism.
That reminded us.  Where was the Clinic?  And we'd better buy a present for
young George Henry!  Dr Valentin knew precisely where it was and gave us
clear directions and said give Mrs Carr a kiss from him!  He explained his
wife and he had met 'Tory and Ivo at the Schreiber's.

     We had plenty of time to get there by six o'clock and strolled down
Domstrasse looking at all the boutiques and saw exactly the thing.  A
fluffy Elphberg lion.  "Henry the Lion," Tris announced as I picked up the
bag in which the assistant had carefully placed the handsome creature.

     At the Clinic they must have been expecting us as the Porter at the
reception desk immediately took us upstairs to a side room where Aunt
Sophie and Lady Mary were seated laughing and chatting together with at
least four bottles of champagne in front of them on a low table.  Whether
it was the effect of euphoria at being grannies, or the influence of the
almost empty flutes of champagne they had in their hands, but we were
grasped and hugged with great enthusiasm.  Releasing us Lady Mary waved a
finger at the Porter who was standing there laughing.  He must have been
used to such scenes.  "Have a drink!" she said and deftly poured three
glasses, one for him and one each for us.  He bowed even lower than normal
and the champers disappeared in a trice.  We sipped ours more carefully as
the pair said how overjoyed they were with the arrival, plus seeing us as
well.  We toasted mother and child and more champagne was poured.

     "And how is Ivo?" Tris asked, after taking another sip.

     "Looking haggard!" his mother said, "But bearing up."

     "When can we see the baby?" I asked.

     "The nurse will be out in a moment," Lady Mary said, "She'll take you
in."

     No sooner said!  A very efficient looking young lady marched in and
gave the Mums a thumb's up.  She looked at us and pointed to the table.  We
took the hint and put our glasses down, then followed her as she walked
along the short corridor to an open door.  There was 'Tory, sitting up in
bed, holding the infant, with Ivo standing proudly beside her.

     I think we were both struck by a sudden shyness.  Neither of us had
had experience of small babies before.  Still, we could congratulate the
happy parents.  After she carefully gave young George Henry to the nurse we
both gave 'Tory a kiss and said how happy we were.  Tris went round to Ivo
and pecked him on the cheek, much to the nurse's amusement.  "You stink of
drink and garlic!" was Ivo's response to that kind gesture.  I hurried
round and gave him a real smacker on the other cheek and thought how nice
and soft his beard felt.  "Oh Hell!  Another one!" he said most
ungraciously.  Then, being Ivo, he clutched both of us and hugged us to
him.  "Give us a proper kiss," he said.  We did.

     Then it was inspection time.  Young George Henry was all wrapped up so
all we could see was a rather red, round face with closed eyes.

     "Looks just like him...," said Tris, pointing to the doting father,
"...After he's had a few pints.  Red in the face, eyes closed, but I can't
hear any snoring."

     'Tory was laughing.  "That's what I thought, too!"

     Ivo took the bait.  "I'll have you know I can hold my drink as well as
the next man.  Just ask my brother."

     "Like that time on the school roof?"  'Tory said.  She'd heard the
story!

     "Don't tell tales," he retorted, "That was a slight aberration on my
part."

     "You told us it was deliberate," said Tris.  He looked at the baby in
the nurse's arms.  "May we hold him?" he asked before any further riposte
from Ivo.

     "His cousin first," said 'Tory and without more ado I had a sleeping
bundle cradled in my arms.

     "What happens if he...?" I asked, remembering the time Mrs Coombs had
a new puppy which I had picked up and I got a bit wet.

     'Tory laughed again.  "Same question that oaf asked.  It's OK, he's
all padded up.  You'll have to learn how to change him.  Ivo will teach you
I'm sure."

     Ivo made a face.  I wasn't sure whether it was because he would have
that duty, or whether it was the task of educating me, or if he was still
thinking of some rejoinder to Tris's statement.

     "My turn," said Tris and put out his arms.  The nurse transferred
young George Henry.

     "Getting broody, duckie?" asked Ivo.

     "Don't be so rude," said 'Tory.

     "Actually, I wasn't for once," he said, softening the usual Ivo image,
"I think the pair would make good parents.  Just give them a couple of
years and they'll be adopting."

     I looked at Tris.  We would never have our own children but we could
be good Uncles.

     "I think we'll keep at being Uncles," I said undoing the bag and
taking out the lion.  "For George Henry, his first present from his loving
Uncles, 'Henry the Lion'."

     A tear rolled down 'Tory's cheek.  "He's a very handsome lion.  Put
him on the pillow by me."  Ivo reached out and stroked the fluffy mane as I
put him down.

     "I've still got the Teddy I had," he said, "He'll treasure that as
much as I do my Teddy."

     Oh, a really sentimental Ivo!

     Tris handed back the infant and we both kissed 'Tory again and I
passed on Dr Valentin's best wishes.  That made her grin.  We went out to
the two Mums who were dispensing glasses of champagne to any passing nurse,
doctor or visitor.

     Lady Mary was in charge.  "Right, as soon as 'Tory has to feed the
baby and rest we'll all go out for a meal.  OK, Sophie.  Think your son
will mange to tear himself away?"

     "Mention food and he will," said Aunt Sophie taking a healthy swig and
emptying the glass she was holding.

     "Food," a voice came, "I heard that!"  Ivo appeared and was
immediately handed a glass.  He looked around.  "I think we have more
visitors."

     The Porter appeared almost bowing to the ground.  Two laughing figures
followed him.  Andrei and Lucasz, both in smart civvies and carrying large
bunches of flowers.  There was much kissing and hugging, especially when
Andrei and Lucasz reached us.  They drank their champagne and were sent in
to view mother and babe and while in there Mr and Mrs Marriott came bowling
up.  A rose corsage was presented to each of the Mums and another bottle
was placed on the table.  As soon as the military pair came out the others
went in.

     By now poor 'Tory was quite exhausted and the nurse rather
reluctantly, I thought, said no more visitors.  She must have been rather
intrigued at the stiff-upper-lip British being so light- hearted.

     Anyway, all and sundry, including Andrei and Lucasz, were invited for
a meal.  Where to go?  A quick consultation between Mr Marriott and Andrei
resulted in a phone call by Andrei and we walked sedately to a very posh
restaurant just down the road in Fleichergasse where another toast to
Mother and Child was drunk and a lavish three-course meal was consumed.
"My husband's bonus!" was Lady Mary's remark when she insisted on paying
and placed a black credit card in the leather folder at the end.

     Andrei was sitting next to me during the meal and said he was sorry he
couldn't attend the recital as he was on special duties with his regiment
from tomorrow now that Ivo was on paternity leave.  I had the feeling there
was something particularly special about the duties.  He gave both Tris and
me a special hug, too, as we parted outside the restaurant.  "Be good, be
careful," he said, "I am sure you will do well tomorrow evening.  I am
sorry I will not be there."

     Both Tris and I had imbibed rather freely so were glad of the taxi
ride back to the hotel.  Igor was on duty with Frantisheck sweeping out the
lobby.  I gave Igor the bottle of champagne Lady Mary had pressed on me.
"Some for Tomas as well," I said.

     "He will be arriving," Igor said, "I put it in fridge.  Cold good!"

     Safely up in our room we didn't open the other bottle but immediately
went to bed.  It wasn't late but we had plenty to discuss, including the
rather blatant sexy look Franzi had given Tris.  "Bet Franzi loses his
cherry to Igor tonight," I said, "Two glasses of bubbly and that chicken
will be anybody's."

     Tris laughed.  "I agree.  He's ready for plucking!"


                         Wednesday

     We, or at least I, would have a busy day.  But, Tris decided it would
be best to have a quiet morning in the Art Gallery and the newly opened
History of Rothenia exhibition.

     "Ivo said we'd better visit the legation to meet Miss Grant who'll
come to the Ministry with us," said Tris, "I'm not too keen on meeting him
again.  He's got something planned I'm sure."

     I laughed.  "If it was his studio the lads were at he might hand over
a batch of photos."

     Tris was being very serious.  "I think he's after a bit more power and
I don't want you, or me, being used..  Cosy photos and interviews in the
newspapers are a good way for a politician to lull people into thinking
what a good fellow he is.  You've only got to think of a couple of our own
Cabinet Ministers who are all smarm and bonhomie and probably getting nice
directorships all lined up for later."

     "There's nothing much we can do," I said, "Miss Grant will advise us,
no doubt.  Anyway, I'll be thinking of the recital so I'm afraid you'll
have to do much of the listening and talking."

     He nodded.  "Yes, you've got to be relaxed."  He laughed.  "If we get
offered anything stronger than coffee you'd better refuse."

     I needed some strong coffee now for breakfast so we were downstairs
ready for the cafe at eight thirty.  Brett and Fraser were in the lobby
with overnight bags and looking at a map and in earnest conversation with
Igor who was pointing out something on a road map.  They looked up and were
all smiles.

     "Hi," said Fraser, "We're just about to go.  Igor's showing us the
best way out of the city.  Rechtenberg, here we come."

     Neither Tris nor I said we were going to explore that region, too, but
tomorrow!

     "Have you had breakfast?" Tris asked.

     Brett nodded.  "Early birds, We got there before eight."  He patted
his stomach.  "Had the Full English and got a special pat on the back from
the waitress!"

     We retreated and said 'best of luck' as the German party were
descending the stairs or disgorging from the little lift.

     I shook my head when Tris asked if I'd like the Full Monty as he
called it.  "No thanks, just the usual."  He agreed.  We did get two pots
of coffee, though, and a great smile from Jelka.

     We called in at the Legation before our visits to the two galleries.
Miss Grant was a friendly, no-nonsense, lady.  Obviously, most efficient.
She said the meeting with the Minister was now at two-thirty.  Be at the
Legation at two and we would be driven to the Ministry.  "We'll put on a
bit of a show but you won't have the Union Jack flying," she said with a
laugh.  She said she was going up to the Clinic at lunch-time to see George
Henry and, no doubt 'the lad' would be present.  Saying 'the lad' meant
there was a real rapport there!  Also, she would be at the recital.

     The recital!!  I had to keep a clear head.  Still we had a quiet
leisurely morning and I felt quite relaxed when we had an early lunch then
went to the hotel to change ready for the interview.  We'd decided to keep
as tidy as possible - at least I would be out of view up in the organ loft.
After the interview I said we should go along to see 'Tory and George Henry
again and I could then be at the Cathedral at half past five for a final
run through.  I called Dr Valentin on the number he had given me and Madame
answered and said she would check and get back to me.  Luckily, we were
having coffee at the Art Gallery when she rang back.  Sorted!

     The ride to the Ministry was hilarious.  Miss Grant insisted we went
by a roundabout route as we had the official Legation limousine, even
posher than the one which met us at the station.  The driver was a
Rothenian - not Andrei - resplendent in full chauffeur's uniform.  Must say
we felt the bee's knees.

     Actually, all passed quite peacefully and with the height of courtesy.
I think two British lads felt very proud of the way we were treated and the
way we reacted.  The Minister seemed less smarmy in private.  The act was
put on once the photographer entered.  The interview was held in a very
ornate room and I, the Minister, the scores and Tris were photographed in
various combinations and were questioned separately or together by a young
male reporter from the main Rothenian newspaper.  Equivalent of the 'Times'
Miss Grant said.  There was a glass of fruit wine and very nice sandwiches
and cakes to finish with and the Minister was quite delighted that all had
gone well.  So delighted he said he was instructing two of his underlings
to attend the recital and report back.

     Miss Grant breathed a sigh of relief when we got back in the car but
said nothing.  We guessed anything said would get back via the driver!
Again a roundabout route and we were dropped off right outside the Clinic
where the Porter on duty outside rushed to the car to open the doors to let
us out.  "See you tonight!" Miss Grant said as we said goodbye.

     'Tory was up and about and ready to leave the Clinic when we got to
her room.  Young George Henry was being held by his Dad with the goofiest
look on his face.

     "He'll come down to earth," 'Tory said, "Especially when he has to
rock him back to sleep at two in the morning!"

     "Shared responsibility?" said Tris.

     "Too true," said 'Tory.

     We were allowed to hold the still sleepy bundle while things were
finally packed and 'Tory and Ivo went the rounds thanking nurses, doctors,
cleaners, and all and sundry.

     The chief nurse followed us to the lift and her last words were in
English.  "Beautiful boy!"

     We were taken back to their flat by taxi with them.  What a reception
when we got there.  Mrs Schreiber had prepared a Rothenian tea.  Yniold was
there with another stunning lad.  So we met Pyotor as well.  Isolde was in
the drawing-room with her father, complete with her cello and he with
clarinet.  A merry duet heralded our entrance and George Henry woke and
cooed.  He didn't cry but made the most delightful sound.

     While we ate he lay in a cradle with Henry the Lion by his head
guarding him.

     Tris was chattering away so I helped Yniold take dirty crocks to the
kitchen.  "And how is Pyotor?"  The look was enough but he was bubbling to
tell.

     "I went to meet him at the Gymno when their autobus arrived.  We went
into a classroom and we hugged...."  He looked a bit coy.  "....And I
kissed him....  ....And he kissed me!  He said let us be best friends!"

     "Good.  Don't let him go.  He looks very nice."

     "You will meet him again tonight.  We are all invited to Dr Valentin's
house after."

     "Better get back to him before Tris decides to parcel him up and take
him back to England!"

     He wrinkled his nose.  "I would come as well!"

     Oh crumbs!  Mustn't let images get too intense!!

     After the influx had gone I went and lay down for half an hour to just
relax and think through the pieces.  I held the keys as I did so.  All was
peace.

     Dr Schreiber ferried us up to the Cathedral in good time for the last
practice.  I just tried two bits of the Alain and a little awkward passage
in the Fugue of the Rheinberger near the end where the theme from the first
movement appears double forte over a left hand accompaniment.  Dr Valentin
said Anton was pleased with his parts of the program and as we emerged from
the stairs of the organ loft Father Artur was standing there.

     Dr Valentin said he would be in the loft at quarter to seven so just
come up.  He bowed and went. "Would you like to see the Chapel?" Father
Artur asked after Dr Valentin strode off.

     Would we!  He led us along the side aisle where a number of people
were kneeling in side chapels or sitting waiting, I assumed, to make
confessions.  We stopped by the iron gate and he took a large key from a
pocket in his cassock.  He pressed a light switch and the sight revealed
was most impressive.  The Chapel was bigger than I'd imagined from the
outside view.  There were three rows of seats and kneeling benches and the
altar was surmounted by a statue of St Guthlac just like the picture on the
box and in the Psalter.  A large window had a representation of him in it
in stained glass as well.  The altar itself was covered entirely in what
looked like porcelain tiles and was shaped rather like a huge cupboard, I
thought.

     Quite spontaneously the three of us knelt and as I clutched the keys
they seemed to emit a heat of their own.  In my head, or it may have been
in the Chapel, I heard the clear instruction 'Do not waver'.  I had my eyes
shut very tightly but felt as if a warm breath passed over my head.  I'd
had a similar experience at Ulvescott.  A hand gripped my wrist.  It was
Tris.  I opened my eyes and the three of us stood.  Father Artur nodded as
we turned to look at him.  He said nothing.  We filed out of the Chapel, he
turned off the light and locked the door.

     "Now you know there is a task to be done," he said enigmatically.  "I
do not know what it is.  I think we shall be solving that soon.  I think
you found a feeling of peace in there.  There may be clouds but peace will
come."

     Yes, I knew what he meant.  I knew Tris had the same experience from
that grip on my wrist.

     Tris spoke.  "Whatever we have to do I feel something strong out
there..."  He shook his head.  "....What it is I do not know but we have
experienced something similar in England."

     Father Artur nodded.  "All will be revealed, I am sure."

     He took us along to a vestry room and chatted to a number of people on
the way.  It was quite apparent he was popular with the people in the
cathedral as many wanted to talk to him.  We shook hands or bowed to quite
a few and it took some time to get to where he wanted to take us.  Another
priest was in the room pouring himself coffee from a large jug.  He was
much younger than Father Artur and was introduced as a teacher at the
school which the choirboys attended.  "I was there, too, as a boy," he said
in good English, "So I know how to control them!"

     We had coffee and he said he had spent six months at Westminster
Cathedral in London soon after he was ordained and had visited many places
in the capital.  Chatting to him time went very quickly.  Luckily there was
a lav just off the vestry so I was ready and raring to go just before
quarter to seven.  We followed the two priests out of the vestry and
managed to have a quick hug before I walked along to the stairway.

     I don't think I or Anton had ever played better before that evening.
Everything went so well.  I managed to draw every bit of pathos and of joy
from the Alain; the Rheinberger, on the type of organ it was written for,
just flowed.  My English pieces sparkled and I had to resist the temptation
to play quickly.  Anton's playing of the Buxtehude, especially, was pure
joy.  So between us I think we gave our listeners the very best of our
talents.  There was a hushed silence as those final, so-powerful chords of
the Rheinberger died away in the reverberation and resonance of the huge
building, then there was applause.  A gradual, growing wave and Anton and I
hurried down those slippery stairs to stand in front of what looked like
several hundred people.  We then stood at the side door as people streamed
out.  My hands were quite sore with the number of times they were grasped
and shaken.  At last it was just friends and family.  Even 'Tory was there
and on enquiry she said two nurses from the Clinic were babysitting George
Henry.  Aunt Sophie was outside the cathedral, mobile phone in hand,
talking animatedly.  As I peered out she came rushing up.  "Your Mum!"  I
spoke to Mum, then Frankie, then Dad.  Very naughtily Aunt Sophie had
broadcast the final page of the Rheinberger back to England via her mobile
from inside the cathedral and they said it sounded tremendous.  We were
then whisked off to Dr Valentin's where about twenty of us had a superb
buffet supper.  It was there I was kissed by both Yniold and Pyotor.

     "I luff 'im," said Pyotor in a surprisingly bass voice for one who
looked so young, but he was almost eighteen.  What he had which pressed up
against me mightily would even outmatch dear Yniold's more than cute young
monster.  "Zank you vor tonight, zo good!"

     'Tory and Ivo didn't stay long.  Tris saw them to their taxi.  "Guess
who," he said when he rejoined the throng.  "He'll be back for us later."
In fact David joined in on his return and finished off the remains of a
plate of ham and cheeses.  "Must go to church more often," he whispered as
he scooped up another helping of the thinly sliced smoked meat.

     Dr Valentin was over the moon.  "Would you like a cathedral job?" he
asked, I hoped in jest.  "Pietersburg needs an organist.  Just as soon as
they can afford an organ."  He laughed.  "No, I think Anton will go there.
They have an order in for an Italian organ for two years time.  You must
come back and play that."

     After all the excitement I was quite exhausted.  I felt I had done my
bit to increase the perception of Brits Abroad!  Even 'Yoggers Stags'
hadn't caused ripples, except in the pool at the Spa!  But we had more
searches to make and tomorrow would start us off on them.  And we also had
a copy of the grant of the Order of Henry the Lion to Curt's ancestor which
Father Artur had given me as we left to get into the taxi.

     Back at the hotel we looked at that.  A photocopied replica.  In bed
the name 'Wildewalmars' seemed to be imprinted on my mind as I dropped off
into a deep sleep.


To be continued: