Date: Sun, 5 Jul 2009 22:31:48 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:  Sequel  26

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq:  26:

             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
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 new-born son
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 relieved 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]
David Vinodosj                             Secret police


			      Saturday Night

     We'd decided to give the Club a miss mainly as we would be questioned
about where we'd been and what we'd done, especially with Tris and his
plastered bonce.  Still we had plenty of company in the set.  Gabe and Josh
were accompanied by Raph with Hary and his brother Franz, who was now
getting about on crutches.  Charles came in but said he wouldn't stay long
as he had to pack as he was driving Lindsey up to see some relatives in
Manchester and would be back on Wednesday.  Of course, when he went
questions were asked but even Gabe made no comments.  We finished off the
food left over from lunchtime and teatime and we did sketch in a few
details of our trip.  Nothing too sensational!  I think they all sensed
there was more to tell.

     All the others left quite early so we just sat and mulled over the
happenings and what we were to tell the Master at lunch on Sunday.  He
could have copies of the two 'affidavits' which just needed printing out,
plus copies of the photos and I still had to contact Dr Stein and return
the key.  Of course, Curt's name cropped up.  We laughed and wondered what
his reaction would be when he heard he was truly Baron Wildenstejn, that
is, if the nobility and titles were restored!

     It was so good being back in the set together even only for the short
time before I had to hand over possession.  Strange that Mum and Dad would
be the interim occupiers before Toad was installed as the next Pennefather
Organ Scholar.  I still had to inspect the flat we'd been promised and all
Tris would say was that there seemed to be piles of pizza cartons and empty
Coke bottles when he'd had a peep when Quentin wasn't there.  He was due
out on the Fourth of July.  The date seemed familiar but I couldn't think
why!

     Anyway, any damage done to us didn't hamper or inhibit our
love-making.  We revelled in the closeness and intimacy of our two bodies.
Tris was in quite a philosophical mood and as we lay quietly after
relishing the second of our couplings he said when we were at the hospital
he heard me shout out 'My Tris, don't let him die!' in the distance and it
was that which brought him round.  He said, as he kissed me again, it was
the most wonderful thing to hear me call that out and he knew he would be
OK.  I clasped him tightly and said he was my only thought at the time and
would be for ever.

     "I think our experiences in Rothenia have brought us even closer
together," he said, "Even though we had that awful experience being shot at
I knew we would be safe.  I knew you had a mission to fulfil and in no way
would you fail.  I heard that voice quite distinctly 'Do not waver!' and
although knocked out I knew all would be well in the end."

     "It's strange," I said, "I think Andrei is somehow involved with us.
I watched when he was with Ivo.  There seems such a close rapport between
them and every time he speaks to me I feel he's connected in some way."

     "I know what you mean," Tris said snuggling up closer, "Even though
I'm an outsider, as it were, I can sense there is something very familiar
about him.  It's odd we were a bit worried about him to begin with."  He
shook his head against me.  "No longer.  And he said he's had a previous
experience of Saint Fenice.  We'll have to ask him about that, too."

     "Yes, he said he would tell us some time."

     "But, I think there's more."  I hesitated.  "I think Ivo said his
mother was English.  I just wonder about his family tree."

     Tris's chest heaved against mine.  "And get him to show you his leg!"

     "Don't take the mick.  I'm being serious," I said, rubbing his back.
"Anyway, it could be a giggle.  Think of Microbe.  A possible connection to
the Rothenian royals!  It's bad enough with Unc and Aldo!"

     Tris pressed up close.  He liked his back rubbed.  "How do we go about
it?  We could ask him straight out about his English connections.  Do you
think he would mind?"

     "We could ask Ivo first.  He may know already.  I'll phone him in the
morning.  We can ask how George Henry is and then ask about Andrei
casually."

     Tris nodded against me.  "And there's the other thing."

     "What?"

     "He's gay.  It's a family trait to be bi or gay, isn't it?"

     "True.  That's what we were told at Ulvescott.  But it doesn't mean
he's part of the family."


                                                                Sunday

     After that we must have dropped off as the next thing I knew was the
little ring of Tris's alarm clock.  Blast!  He hadn't altered the time.
Seven o'clock!  We could have had another hour at least.  Huh!  I was awake
but Tris wasn't.  If he was going to be employed by Phillips, Van Zyl and
Partridge he'd better get a louder clock which wakes him up as well.  No, I
wasn't disgruntled, but I liked my bed.  Better shift.  I had things to
think about.  I was showered and shaved long before Tris shifted himself.
In fact, I'd had a look through the notes I'd taken at the Rodolfer and was
going to pass over to James Tanner.  I had another look at the very clear
ones the girl doing Logic had produced.  Wow!  I saw exactly what she was
attempting to do.  Several lines later and I'd come to quite a serious
further conclusion.  Where had that idea come from?  I just didn't know.
What I did know was that I was getting more of these.  Was I gaining
confidence?  I would just have to wait and see.  Anyway, being a kind soul
I took a nice, hot mug of coffee into a gently snoring Tris.  He smiled as
he woke up.  That made my day!

     Only part of my day.  While he was washing I found a thoughtful Sean
had left half a dozen eggs in the fridge.  Admittedly, there was a note on
the box saying how much I owed for them.  When I turned it over the cheeky
hound had written 'Caught you! Nothing to pay!'.

     There was one task to do before contemplating breakfast.  I didn't
phone Ivo, I concocted an e-mail instead.  Just saying we'd had a splendid
day the day before - mainly due to Mr Marriott getting us designated as
Diplomatic Bags.  I gave a quick resume of the flight and the prisoner's
discombobulation over Tris's announcement.  I had to condense the
description of the scene in the kitchen but said he would be meeting Kasim
and Wasim as they were coming to Rothenia as well at the weekend.  Finally,
I asked if he knew anything about Andrei's mother.  Was it correct she was
English?  I thought that would be enough to make him wonder.  OK, I did
send best wishes to 'Tory and George Henry at the beginning.  Signed off
and sent and having done that breakfast was prepared.

     Over breakfast Tris suggested I phone Adam and tell him the tale.
Perhaps someone at Ulvescott could come up with a family tree?  I did that
and for once Adam was sweetness and light from the beginning.  Probably
Nate had given him great pleasure the night before and he was still in a
state of euphoria!  No, I think he was just intrigued and said he would
make enquiries.  In fact, it was Nate who was euphoric as he'd submitted
his thesis two days ago!

     We had a morning free.  What to do?  It was a bright, sunny day.
Nothing for it but a pair of shorts, a book and a bit of suntan lotion and
a lie out behind a convenient shrub.  At twelve we wandered in, washed
again, and dressed a bit more conventionally.  Unc's tops and slacks and
ready for lunch.

     I said we should wait until James and Paul appeared then follow across
the quad.  This we did and as the Master welcomed us we got appraising
looks - even more so when James and Paul saw us though James did a chunter.
"I think we'll be getting a bill for near enough a thousand quid for all
that stuff you've ordered."

     "James, it'll be worth every penny," the Master said, "I gave Manuel
the list and he said the local restaurants will be queuing up for any
surplus."

     He looked at us standing there like two spare pricks.  "Take no
notice."  He turned and raised a finger.  Sean appeared as if by magic with
a silver tray and five schooners of, wow!, the College Amontillado.
"Tristan, this is in your honour.  I hear you have had another success.
The Law Society this time.  Congratulations!"

     "Congratulations!"  This came from Mrs Mays who came in holding her
own schooner, followed by Curt and Logan with their own clutched in their
sweaty paws.  She ushered the pair in past her.  "I have persuaded them to
join us for lunch.  Manuel is preparing everything so we can relax and hear
all the news."

     Now or never!  I looked at Tris and we raised our glasses as I said
"Let us propose a toast to Baron Curt Wildenstejn of Waldemars."  Before he
could drop the glass I added.  "That is, if King Rudolf restores the titles
of nobility!"

     It was a gabble after that.  A gobsmacked Curt had to sit.  Logan
looked bewildered.  The Master, James and Paul were laughing and Mrs Mays
was trying to get us to elucidate.

     "Quite simple," Tris said, "We have incontrovertible evidence that if
titles are restored, then in accordance with European custom, Curt could
style himself Baron."

     I had my shoulder bag with me and drew out the picture which the
soldier had picked up in the house.  I held it up.  "The house is there.
It's empty and I think there's sufficient evidence for it to be returned to
the family."

     If anyone could look stunned, dumbfounded, overwhelmed or whatever,
then Curt fitted the bill.  Quickly, we told the story of finding the
house.  How the military had arrived and the rescue of Brett from the
mausoleum with the key. We glossed over the thugs but said one of the
soldiers had found this particular picture and it was signed by Curt's
great-grandfather.

     Paul Phillips was nodding as I said this.  "It appeared?" he asked.  I
knew he'd come to the same conclusion as James Marriott.  "It's definitely
an 'apport'," he said, "I had a case a few years ago and there was no other
explanation for the appearance of a ring which even the judge had to
accept.  Luckily he'd heard of other occasions so gave the defendant the
benefit of the doubt."  He was nothing if not astute.  "And the way those
three were stunned.  Any explanation?"  We said we had no idea of the
official line but we knew there was something protecting us.  Tris then
said about the apparition at the hospital and the way it was repelled by
the other picture.  I showed them that one.  Paul smiled.  "I've seen a
photograph of the icon that was copied from.  It's St Fenice, isn't it?"

     He said he'd had another case where a collection of valuable icons had
been stolen and had been recovered in rather mysterious circumstances.  "My
client said he'd prayed to St Fenice while holding a picture of her and had
been told the icons would be returned.  There had been no sign of a
break-in and the only other person who knew the code for the alarm system
was his daughter's ex-husband.  He didn't have the icons and swore he
hadn't stolen them but someone called our office with the address of a
lock-up garage in Enfield and there they were.  Unfortunately, though his
fingerprints were on them it wasn't evidence as he'd helped the old boy
move them around in the past.  But the phone call was a mystery as the
ex-son-in-law was in custody at the time and it was a woman's voice.  Who
it was was never established."

     Neither of us said we'd experienced the voice of someone more than
once.  We said little about the ambush but Tris had to explain his damaged
head.  He was hoping the plaster could be removed in the morning as it
itched mightily, he said.  His description to me earlier 'that it itched
like buggery' was, thankfully, not repeated!

     Our description of the opening of the altar was just greeted with
amazement.  James Tanner reduced us all to laughter when he said quietly,
in a world-weary way, "Mark Foster does it again!"

     It was obvious we had glossed over many things but just as we were
called to the table by Sean I said we were going back to Strelzen for the
Christening of George Henry.  Mrs Mays was all ears.  She had known 'Tory
well as she'd been on various student committees and been invited to the
Master's Lodge on many occasions.  I also said I'd heard that morning that
Nate Tempest had submitted his thesis.  The Master nodded and smiled and I
guessed Nate would be hearing some good news soon about a College position.

     Lunch was superb and the conversation continued.  Curt was sitting
between me and Paul Phillips and seemed quite subdued.  Not overawed, but
pensive.  During the pudding course he said he would have to ask his father
about the house.  In his opinion it would probably be best if it could be
used for some good purpose - like the children's hospital it had been.  The
Master said it might be an idea if Dr Stein came down from Edinburgh and
talked to us.  Paul said if there were any legal angles he would be very
willing to act pro bono.  He looked across at Tris.

     "And another job for you would be to get as much documentation as
possible while you are over there.  It sounds as if there isn't much but
witness statements and affidavits would be useful."

     Tris said we had produced two documents ourselves and there was the
copy of the grant of the title, plus plenty of people in the village who
could be questioned.  He said the Archbishop had the keys and he would, no
doubt, add weight to any claims.

     "The more the better," Paul said.

     I then had to say about the recital and the handing-over of the
scores.  I let slip that we thought we had been slightly manipulated by the
Minister of the Interior as he was rather unpopular.  The Master looked up
sharply at this and even James lost his enigmatic mein.

     "Sunday paper!" the Master said and James was nodding.  "There's an
article about arrests being made in Rothenia and the Minister of the
Interior is off the hook.  It seems he was being smeared because he
wouldn't play ball with some rather nasty crooks."  He looked at the pair
of us sitting on opposite sides of the table.  "So there's a lot more which
you haven't told us, eh?"

     "I'm afraid so, Master," Tris said quite solemnly, then grinned.
"Please, it's been a rather eventful fortnight.  Could we leave it until
the dust or dirt has settled, then it may even be clearer for us as well."

     One thing not mentioned were my presentations at the Rodolfer.  I knew
I would be cross-questioned about those by James in the morning so held my
peace.

     Lunch ended and Mrs Mays said that coffee would be taken in the
drawing- room.  I was cornered by Logan as we went through.  "Is your arm
OK?" he asked.

     I was mystified.  Nothing had been said about any damage to me.

     He grinned.  "I spied the pair of you this morning and you've got a
plaster on your arm like Tris has on his head." He winked.  "Nice pair of
legs, though!  Look good in a kilt!"

     Cheeky bugger!  "Tell you later," I said rather miffed as his were not
on display today as he was wearing a top and slacks.

     The Master was fiddling about with a door in a rather elegant tallboy
in the corner of the room.  After a struggle he got it open and held up a
bottle I recognised.  St Mark's Fire!

     "It's OK, there's enough for a drop or two each and a bit more for
Tristan.  You were going to get a rather nice brandy Bernard Cavendish gave
me but the wounded warrior deserves better.  Actually, both of you, for all
you've done for the College."

     James Tanner actually said "Hear, Hear" in chorus with Paul.

     Tris's face was a picture as he tasted the heavenly potion.  "Wow" was
his only comment.

     "I can get used to this," Mrs Mays said as she emptied her glass. "Any
more adventures or commissions?"

     We just laughed and shook our heads.  Then I remembered.  I looked at
James.  "We did taste a rather special brandy which might be suitable for
the brew.  Interested?"

     Enigmatic again.  "Abbot John and the monks would have to decide
that."  He looked at Paul and winked.  "I think six bottles at least for
pre-testing don't you think?"

     "One of those for the monks?" I asked.

     "Correct deduction."

     Curt went off and phoned his father.  He said he would arrange to fly
down on Wednesday morning if we could meet for lunch and then talk face to
face.  All OK.

     After lunch we strolled back to the set with Curt and Logan.  There we
told them the whole story.  At the end Curt got up and went over to Tris
first and hugged him and then came over to me and did the same.  "You've
done so much," he said, "And so much of it for me.  I can never repay you."
It was a very, very serious Curt who said that.

     Logan came over, too, and hugged Curt.  "You've got big
responsibilities now if all that works out.  Your father will leave it to
you to deal with I'm sure.  You must go to Rothenia soon when things have
been settled."

     Curt sniffed and nodded.  "You'll come with me?  Please?"

     "Of course, if you want me to."  He looked at us.  "You've been very
brave.  I hope nothing like that happens again."  He smiled.  "And we'd
better try and keep the wee hound away from that Spa.  Him showing off his
tackle would cause a riot!"

     "Just because I'm well-hung!" the wee hound riposted, "That bastard
Muscle Mildred last night squeezed me while I had that tray of drinks.  She
may have muscles but there's little to show down below!  She's just
jealous.  And you weren't there to protect me.  Flarchy Archie had his hand
up your kilt feeling your Wee Willy Winkle, I bet."

     Logan shook his head.  "He was jist tucking a five-pound note in ma
shorts."

     "Hunh!  Stroking your hairy thighs more like it.  And why do you get
all the money?...."

     A hand went over the open mouth, then Logan substituted his lips and
gave Curt a real smacker of a kiss.

     When they both came up for air Curt was silenced for once.

     "Will ye stop yer blethering, ye wee imp.  We share our tips always."

     The wee imp wasn't silent for long.  "The only tip you ever want to
share with me..." he began then looked at us and wrinkled his nose.  "I
suppose if I'm a Baron I've got to learn to behave!"

     Tris leaned over him and gave him a lip-smacker as well.  "You stay as
you are.  You were put on earth to amuse us lesser mortals, your Honour, or
your Worship, or however you address a Baron."

     The nose was wrinkled again.  "I can think of at least three ways I
can amuse you but..."  The 'but' hung in the air.  The four of us giggled
and Logan gave Curt a none too gentle smack on his backside.

     "You promised you'd stop the teasing for jist one day."  He laughed.
"But you would'nae be ma Curt if you did."

     Plans were then made for the four of us to meet up on Wednesday when
Dr Stein was due.  I said I would arrange lunch in the set and Curt said he
would talk to Cheffie who was sweetness and light at the moment.  "I won't
tell him Manuel is a better cook...."  A raised hand from Logan silenced
him.

     When they had gone Tris looked to see if there were any e-mails.
There was one from Adam.  The Ulvescott crowd were intrigued over the
question of the family tree.  Dr Thomson had suggested a possibility was
that Jacques Fontane had a younger sister born about 1822.  He wasn't sure
if she had survived or another sister of the same name had been born later
if she had died.  He would have to contact his cousin in Switzerland.  He
did know there must have been other relations because someone had got to
Switzerland during the War.  News to come.

     Tris loaded down a picture he had of Andrei and matched it against me,
Piers and the portrait of Agnes Leferreur.  He ummed and ahhed over any
likeness.  'Possible' was his conclusion.  'Wait and see' was mine.


                                                             Monday

     Tris was up and about before me.  He was itching to get to the office
to check over any further developments in the Leopardi and Matteoli
interests.  He also had to get Jacob to contact Wasim's father's agents.
"Business is business," he said rubbing his hands.  I had James Tanner to
contend with.  Still, I had all the carefully copied out notes from the
presentations I'd attended, plus a few ideas I'd had.  His last words after
lunch had been 'See you at nine-thirty'.

     All was OK.  He said once I had a bit of free time I could spill all
the beans we hadn't let loose the day before.  "Mr Luffman has phoned me
three times so far praising my 'researcher' for sending him such an
enthusiastic young American.  So enthusiastic his father has stumped up for
wiring up the stacks!  I must meet this paragon of virtue.  He might offer
to catalogue the stacks in here."  He waved a nonchalant hand at the
accumulated debris, detritus or dross of two academic lifetimes.  "On the
other hand I might let you burrow about.  Someone will have to clear it up
when I retire.  And then there's this...."  This was a pile of large
printed pages.  The proofs of his new book I guessed.  "I have to check
everything and I've found three superscripts they've missed already."

     "Keep you busy over the vacation," I said.  Ow!  Mustn't be rude.

     He just laughed.  "Exactly what Paul said.  He's very busy at the
moment so we can only have a fortnight away."

     "Anywhere interesting?" I asked.

     "We're taking Barry up to the Isle of Skye.  He's never been and he
deserves a break.  We shall miss him when he goes to Ulvescott."

     "Have you got a replacement?  A good cook?"

     He shook his head.

     I flew a kite.  "What about Curt?  You'd probably get Logan as well."

     He laughed.  "That's the best idea I've heard in years.  Action
stations.  I'll discuss that with everyone tonight.  Not a word, though."

     I was then put through the mill over my presentations.  He'd had a
letter from Professor zum Adamszberh praising my efforts which he showed me
at the end.  Then we spent more time over the plant hunt.  If the stuff
arrived in July then the monks could get on with something called
maceration and the actual distillation could take place, he thought, in
November.  The brandy suggestion was also taken on board and he said he'd
phone Abbot John that afternoon.  I then showed him the notes I'd taken of
the other presentations.  He kept nodding as I placed the various pages in
front of him.  I kept the Logic one until last.

     "I'm never sure if I can really understand some of the ideas," I said,
"But it struck me that she could have taken the line of argument here
another step further....."

     There was another silence as he looked intently at the couple of
sheets.  He got up and went over to a blackboard and rubbed about half
clean.  I watched as he wrote up the first two lines of the exposition.
"You tell me the next bit," he said and handed me the chalk.

     I explained what my line of reasoning was.  As I chalked it up another
thought struck me.  There was a further side issue.  I finished what I had
already worked out and before he could comment I said I'd seen another
result as I was working through the previous one.  OK, I was on a wing and
a prayer.  I think I was using reasonable notation but said I needed to
consolidate two ideas and wasn't sure how but I could set down the terminal
result.  I had to clear another bit of board to complete it.

     I turned and looked at James.  The tears were streaming down his face.
I must have looked quite alarmed.  Was he ill?

     "Are you alright?" I asked as he drew out his handkerchief and wiped
his eyes.

     He was shaking his head.  "Of course I'm alright."  He went over to
his desk and sat down and pointed at the chair I usually sat in.  I sat and
looked at him wondering what would come next.  "Mark," he said slowly,
"I've just watched something which happened in the same way to me, oh so
many years ago.  To tell you the truth you and I are so much alike.  You've
surprised me so often with your insights.  Many times I haven't let on but
I've tried to guide you further and further just as Dr Bell did with me.
Today you've shown me my instincts were right.  I just have to say you are
a true mathematician.  Your reasoning has taken that particular bit of
logic to a much more fundamental level.  Much further and in such a way I
will have to think very hard and you must know that is supposed to be one
particular area of my expertise."  He smiled.  "I think your thoughts
develop when you're more relaxed.  Now you have time and pressures are off
the ideas begin to flow.  I found the same."  He pointed over to the laden
shelves.  "I have never had the time to look at them all but there are
quite a few of Dr Bell's notebooks over there.  He was always jotting down
ideas.  Many never got published.  They're not bed-time reading but I think
you might find things to take further yourself.  Feel free.  Stand on the
shoulders of that particular giant even thought he was only five foot two!"

     I was like Curt the day before, dumbfounded.  I mumbled something
about I hoped I could add something because I really could do little else
than mathematics.  "You've got music as well," James said, "I only have
mathematics."  He smiled.  "Gets boring when no one else knows what you're
talking about.  Still Paul's the same about getting legal arguments as
unambiguous as possible."

     I said I hoped we could talk about boring things, whenever!  He then
said I'd better decide what topics I wanted to concentrate on for Part III.
I wouldn't be bored then!

     Time had flown talking with James and it was almost twelve when I left
him as he wearily picked up a pencil and a sheet of his page-proofs.  Yes,
I also had music.  I still had a key to the Chapel side door so went up and
played for almost an hour.  I felt so relaxed.  Was this the way to let
ideas flow?  I would have to see.

     After a rather disgusting lunch, both Cheffie and Manuel were off for
the day and Gawd Only Knows who concocted the menu, I wandered into town
and had a look for Sherlock Holmes books.  Rather than give the lads new
copies I trawled through two of the secondhand shops near St Edwards Church
and managed to find five copies of 'A Study in Scarlet'.  I discarded the
idea of giving 'The Sign of the Four' as when Watson visits Holmes at the
beginning of the first chapter Holmes is about to inject himself with his
seven per cent cocaine solution.  Not a particularly good role model for
the dear boys.  The old editions were rather handsome and were well
illustrated and also cost more than the modern copies!  We would have to
think up a suitable inscription on the lines of 'To our Baker Street
Irregulars...'.

     Tris was both tired and full of beans when he arrived back at
half-past five.  There had been a conference that afternoon with Gabe, Josh
and Lorenzo about setting up an office for dealing with all the franchises.
Tris said he was most impressed with the serious way in which the three of
them took to the ideas and the possible ways of running the office.  Tris
said that the person who took most initiative was Josh and he thought he
would be given the main job.  As Gabe was going to do some tutoring this
seemed to be just right.  Lorenzo would deal with liaising between the
Italian and the British offices.  In any case Aldo and one of his staff
were coming over at the end of the next week and would sort out as much as
possible.

     Tris smiled as I gave him his second G & T.  "The best thing is that I
shall be working with Jacob almost full-time on the legal side once it's
set up.  There's a lot of interest because of the lad mags and the coverage
and we've got to get things rolling as fast as possible.  Come and sit by
me and tell me what you've done."

     I picked up a couple of the Sherlock Holmes' books and showed him.  He
laughed.  "I think 'To a brave Baker Street Irregular from Sherlock Foster
and his sidekick Dr Price-Williams Watson with grateful thanks'."

     I laughed and agreed.  "You'd better do the inscriptions.  Best legal
copperplate."  Yes, Tris was very adept at stylish penmanship.

     "What about rugger shirts for them?" he asked.

     Blast! I'd forgotten those.  "I'll get them in the morning,"I said.
"We'd better guess sizes."

     I then said I didn't fancy dinner in Hall after the appalling lunch so
we went into town and found a nice Greek restaurant.  Feeling well-fed we
strolled back to College and had an early night.  At least it was early to
bed but much later to sleep!

     Tuesday started slightly medically.  First we soaked the plaster off
the side of Tris's head while he had his head over a basin of hot water.
He let out a few ungentlemanly expletives as the sticky stuff was detached
from his growing hair.  He hadn't realised there was only one stitch.  We
deduced the rest had been stuck down somehow and there was a very neat scar
which was almost invisible already because of his hair growth.  I then
performed a little surgery.  One snip of the nail scissors and the black
stitch came free.  "Thank God for that," he said as he surveyed his head in
the bathroom mirror.  "Your turn now."

     My arm had been itching a bit.  I winced as the plaster came off.  I
had four neat stitches but the skin seemed a bit red and I had quite a scab
in the centre.

     "Take yourself over to see Mrs Henson," I was instructed, "Get her
opinion."

     I knew the Chaplain was away at some conference as there had been a
notice on the board by the Porter's Lodge so I hoped his wife was at home.
She was and wanted to know all about our adventures.  She bathed the scabby
area and said it was healing OK, just let the air to it and she would
remove the stitches on Thursday morning as the surrounding skin was
settled.  Two cups of tea and a couple of scones later I felt fit and well
and she seemed quite impressed especially when I said about Curt and the
title.  "My brother's in the same Department as Dr Stein so we've met him
often when we've been up to Edinburgh.  You'll like him, he's very quiet."
She grinned.  "Not like young Curt!"

     After thanking her I left, now with a soft dressing over a non-itchy
patch, and bought six England Rugby shirts at the sports store near
Sainsbury's.  The assistant was most amused when I said they were being
taken to Rothenia for lads who had never played rugger.  I bought six as
Tris had said a gift of one to Franzi's brother might make their
relationship better.  Oh, Tris, you do have a kind heart!  Luckily we had
pooled resources to pay for them!!

     I was rather apprehensive on Wednesday about meeting Dr Stein.  We
realised he was also apprehensive about anything to do with Rothenia.  But
before meeting him I had the greatest surprise ever when I went across
earlier to the Porter's Lodge to see if there was any mail.  There was.
Two rather expensive-looking envelopes.  One addressed to me and the other
to Tris.  Liam was behind the counter and handed them over with a quizzical
look.  I didn't enlighten him about the contents but realised they were
rather official and must have come by special delivery from Rothenia as
there were no stamps.  By their Diplomatic Bag I assumed.  Yes, Rothenia.
Under Liam's steady gaze I had turned mine over and there were the embossed
arms Tris and I had seen displayed on various buildings and notices.

     I didn't quite run back to the set but hurried as sedately as
possible.  I carefully unsealed my letter and read the contents.  Wow!
Double wow!!  The letter was quite astounding.  There were the Royal Arms
again and very formally it stated,

          'I am commanded by His Most Pious and Steadfast Majesty
          King Rudolph the Sixth to crave your presence for the conferment
          of the Order of Henry the Lion (Civil) in the Second Class
          in recognition of your recent services to the Kingdom of
Rothenia.'

     It was signed by the Principal Private Secretary and under that was
the date, time and place for the presentation.  The Monday after the Sunday
Christening at 11 a.m at the Palace.  Under this was a very modern touch,
the RSVP was an e-mail address.  Attached to the back was a handwritten
message in a very bold and decisive hand on a yellow post-it note.  'You
deserve First Class but protocol insists...  We'll have a chat over lunch -
full details then, please!  R.'

     Wow, again!  Short and sweet.  I felt a bit weak at the knees.


To be continued: