Date: Wed, 29 Jul 2009 15:00:11 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:  Sequel 31

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq: 31:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Maybe Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster                  The story-teller: Newly graduated.
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams      His well-proportioned boyfriend.
Francis Michael Foster             Alias Toad/Microbe   Mark's younger brother
Adam Benjamin Carr                 Mark's cousin: newly appointed History Fellow
Ivo Richie Carr                    Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat
Victoria ['Tory] Carr              Ivo's wife
George Henry Carr                  Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son
Steven, Dustin, Ginge;             Servery lads
Horace Saunders                    Pennefather Organ Scholar 1961-1964
Benedict Saunders                    His elder grandson: 15
Hallam Saunders                      His younger grandson: 13
Petroc Parkinson                    Brother of Philip the Guardsman


				 Saturday

     The trek across to breakfast was not impeded by shards of broken
glass, slicks of vomit or drunken bodies and the College fountain was
gushing sweet and clean.  The Class of '64 were sleeping soundly or were
already up and eating hearty breakfasts in Hall.  Young Stevie, Dusty and
Ginge were serving and were not offering extra cream for cornflakes or
coffee, although all three looked appetising enough and could have been
served up on platters naked with oranges in their mouths!  My rather vivid
mental imagery was interrupted by a voice behind me.  It was 'Bloody
Horry', Horace Saunders as I'd noted from the card he'd given Tris the
night before.

     "Mornin'," he said by way of greeting, "Good night last night but
should have kept off the gravy!"  I assumed he was referring to the rather
good claret which was still going the rounds when we arrived on the scene.
"Glad we met.  If you've got ten minutes after this I'd like to ask for a
bit of advice.  It's my grandson."  I said we'd be in my set when finished.
He'd already got his breakfast and went back to sit with his mates.

     "What d'you think it's about?" asked Tris as we went over to sit away
from the oldies.

     "Don't know.  Better just wait and see."

     Just after nine there was knock at the door.  It was Mr Saunders.  He
laughed as he came in.  "Looks much the same except I had a coal fire in
those days.  Some of the other sets had gas and it was laid on here but it
seemed more cosy."  He stared around.  "What's this about a secret door?  I
didn't bloody know there was a dead body down below, either."

     We explained about the organ stops.  He just shook his head.  "Used to
hang my rugger kit and pants and shirts on them to dry.  Never really saw
them for damp bits and pieces.  Couldn't afford to send stuff to the
laundry but Gerry Knott was my gyp and used to take the really mucky stuff
home to his mother."

     'Gerry Knott'!  Jason's father.  I said both his sons were coming up
to College as students in October and I was tutoring the younger one.

     He laughed.  "What a turn up!  Gerry was just a kid.  Not more than
fifteen then."  He nodded.  "He was as bright as a button and even then was
reading anything he could lay his hands on.  Much more intelligent than
some of the brutes he had to deal with!"

     Oh, I could hardly divulge the information that it was no wonder as he
was a descendant of Augustus Pennefather's son by his bedder.  Anyway, he
opened the door and had a good look round.  He said there were conducted
tours of the cellars that morning and he was scheduled for the ten o'clock
one.  He laughed again as I sorted out a postcard of Frankie having his
balls fondled, which he'd signed on the back, and said he'd see the
original on the wall below.  When I explained that Frankie was going to be
the next Pennefather Organ Scholar he just about bust a gut laughing.

     "That leads me to my real reason for a visit. It's advice for my
eldest grandson.  He's fifteen and thinking of exams and his father says he
should come here after A Levels.  It's a family thing.  My father was here
and was a vicar so that's why money was tight.  My son followed me but read
Modern Languages and he's head of a school in Dorset.  Young Ben's at that
difficult age and whatever father says he rebels against.  But, although I
say it myself, he does confide in Granddad.  Like me he's mad keen on
fishing and I took him and his younger brother, Hal, up to Scotland at
Easter.  Had a wonderful time and Ben really opened his heart to me."  He
looked at Tris and me.  "You're together, aren't you?  Could see that last
night."

     "Yes," said Tris, "We are.  We don't mind it being known."

     He smiled.  "Again family.  My younger brother lives with his partner.
He went to King's in London and read Theology and he's a vicar, too, like
Pa was.  Gavin, his partner, is a geologist and they and the boys get on so
well, too.  Well, to cut a fairly long story short, Ben confided in me he
thinks he's gay, should he tell his Dad and Mum?  My son Brian's a bit
strict, must be the headmaster in him.  He gets on well with his Uncle but
his school was in the news last year because one of the masters had been
caught with a lad in Soho.  The local paper made a song and dance about it
until the editor was warned off."  He laughed.  "Rumour was he had a
certain penchant for doing rather naughty things with ladies.  Anyway,
Ben's afraid his Dad will be off his trolley if he tells him.  He and Hal
are coming to stay with us when school finishes in a couple of weeks so
he's sure to ask Granddad again!"

     "Do you want someone who's gay and younger than his Uncle to talk to
him?" asked Tris.

     Mr Saunders nodded.  "The other thing is the musical side.  I think
he's good.  He plays the piano well, but like most teenagers he has a thing
for pop of the more raucous kind.  I have the feeling it's to wind his
father up and there was a stand-up row just before we went off to Scotland.
I'd like him to try for the Pennefather.  He's had a go on the organ at the
church where I play and he was most competent.  Standards, though?  In my
day it was Grade Eight but I did manage the Associateship after I left."

     I looked at Tris.  I would leave it to him.  "Mark had three Grade
Eights when he came for interview then did two diplomas before coming up
and his brother has almost the same," he said, "I guess they've set the
standard for whoever comes next."

     "Three years," I said, "He's the right age now to be ready to follow
my brother then."

      "I'm sure Mark wouldn't mind talking to him.  We're around until
August so why not bring them up to see St Mark's. They're too young to see
the cellars officially but Mark's got a key for the stair down from here he
can use anytime." Tris paused while Mr Saunders nodded.  Tris continued,
"Mark's parents will be here anyway running a Summer School and Ben will
see they're supportive."  There were more nods as Mr Saunders knew of the
Baroque Orchestra.

     So, things were arranged.  Agony Uncle Mark would be in demand again!

     Mr Saunders had to rush off to be ready for the viewing and we had to
prepare for the Invasion of the Triffids as Tris termed them.  Soon the
usual clatter was heard outside.  Dusty and young Stevie had the laden
trolley.  It was certainly laden.  Four piled trays of sandwiches plus an
assortment of amuse-bouches, or whatever, were stacked on the bottom with a
box of mugs.  On the top were cakes and buns of various sorts together with
a pile of paper plates.

     "Cheffie said I was to leave the crusts on," announced Dusty with a
grin worthy of Curt, "Make their hair curl before seeing the cellars, he
said."

     "And I've got a sore wrist from buttering all that bread," said young
Stevie massaging his lower right arm.  Poor boy.  Given that there were
only three or four loaves involved my guess was the major stiffness was due
to massaging another stiffness rather excessively.  Dusty looked at him
rather sharply and I hoped he would comment.  Unfortunately, he didn't, but
I knew Dusty had reached the same conclusion as I had.  It would be
instructive to hear their later conversation!

     "We'll come back when they arrive and serve coffee," said Dusty.
"Cheffie said we'd better be clean and tidy, too.  Bit hot at breakfast as
they all wanted bacon and eggs."

     Would they like to shower and be personally soaped and lathered?
Rinsed down with cascades of hot water then rubbed dry with fluffy towels?
Gosh!  Tris must have the same mental images.  Not quite so vividly
expressed as mine, though!

     "If you like you can have a quick shower here," he said, "I'll put
towels out.  You can be in and out in five minutes.  We'll put the stuff on
the table."

     They looked at each other and nodded.  Tris led them off saying to me
'Won't be a moment' while I contemplated should I subject them to the cold
water treatment that Curt got?  No.  They were young and most probably
virginal and wouldn't relish their young attributes being cooled and ogled
if they fled the icy downpour!  I unloaded the trolley and put a cloth on
the table so as not to scratch it with the trays.  These I positioned
artistically, sandwiches and tidbits to the fore and cakes behind and
divided the pile of paper plates into three.  All looked most tempting.
But where was Tris?  Just getting towels?

     Tris spent more moments than necessary getting the towels.  He was
grinning as he came out.  "Both the little buggers were going commando
under their whites.  Heat from the ovens certainly makes for looseness.
Not spectacular but well-formed!"

     I mentally kicked him for being a spoilsport and not letting me help
him fetch towels!  I'll get him later I thought.  I told him he could set
out the mugs ready for coffee.

     Five minutes later and they were out dressed in their old whites.
"Thanks," said Dusty, "We'll change into clean things over there.  We'll be
back."

     Tris said he would print out a proper list of all the would-be models
for the show.  I put the bag of undies under the table and played the piano
to kept my mind from straying too much to images of some of the younger end
at the club and how they might look filling out the scanties!

     My concentration on one of the Brahms Preludes was broken by the
arrival exactly at eleven of the Triffids led by the Chief Alien himself,
my brother.  Oh, God, he'd said twenty- five, there must have been nearer
thirty as bringing up the rear were Wasim and Kasim.  Not a Triffid to be
seen.  Just a bunch of rather over-awed, well-grown eighteen-year-olds.
Not for long.  Introductions were made but, of course, most were
recognisable as bigger versions of the pimply mid-adolescents they had been
when I was a Prefect and they were fourteen or fifteen.  I spotted Bozo and
Harpo together, with no one commenting on the presence of someone not yet
in the final throes of schooldays. The initial wariness evaporated even
further as they spied the laden table and heard the rattle of the trolley
with the two lads bringing in large thermoses of coffee.  Frankie clapped
his hands.

     "Gentlemen," he said in a most authoritative way, no doubt who was in
charge, "Welcome to St Mark's.  You all know my brother and Tris.  As some
of you said on the bus you're not scared of them now and they're forgiven
for inflicting lines and detentions and the occasional slap from Tris when
somebody wasn't paying attention in the scrum."  He pointed at someone who
almost rivalled Pugsy in muscly splendour.  "Sam says he had a handprint on
his bum for a fortnight after he missed a lineout ball.  You're out of the
firing line, Tris, 'cause he said you did his English homework for him when
he was in the Third Year.  Sorry Sam, but elephants have long memories!"  A
raised fist and a big smile.  "Anyway Pugsy and I will be here next year
all being well and we hope to inherit this from Mark."  There was a rising
murmur as eyes were still taking in the rather exotic decor.  "Now, to
business, pay attention at the back!  As you see we are to be fed before we
go down below and we have to divide into two groups.  Those on my right..."
He made a sweeping gesture with his right hand.  "...will visit the
exhibition first and the rest half an hour later.  Those still hungry can
eat in town and there are plenty of punts for this afternoon.  If you get
lost we're leaving at six.  Meet in that road along the Backs where we were
dropped.  Same bus, for those that aren't colour-blind it is red and for
those who are it's got big letters on the back, Southern Tours."  He looked
at the group, most of whom were grinning at him.  "First, I'll ask my
brother to show you the secret door.  A big hand for Mark Foster."

     I'll annihilate the Toad sometime!  Anyway, mustn't delay.  I could
see eyes were on the mounds of food!  I stepped forward.  "My welcome to
you, too.  Sadly, tomorrow is the last day for me in this set.  Three years
goes very quickly in a place like this.  I must say Tris and I have had our
excitements and one of the first was when I discovered the way to open the
door."  I went over and sat on the piano stool.  I then went through the
story and they were laughing when I finished.  I pointed at Sam who was
standing looking up at the Gambe stop.  "In recompense for the handprint
would you do the honours.  Gently, pull the knob...."  There was a rise in
the laughter.  "...Listen for three clicks."  A concerted 'Wow' as the door
opened.

     Sam obviously knew the tale.  "No bodies in there today?"

     "Not unless Frankie gives me too much lip..."  There was a 'Hear,
hear' from Pugsy's direction and another ripple of laughter.  Toad was
well-known.  "...Anyway feel free to explore in there while you eat, no
crumbs though!"

     Luckily Cheffie hadn't underestimated the hunger of late adolescents
as plates were filled and Dustin and young Stevie handed out mugs of
coffee.  Wasim and Kasim came across to me both munching on sandwiches and
with great grins on their faces.

     "Enjoying things?" I asked.

     "Of course, what else with him in charge," said Wasim, "He insisted we
came and it's been brill."

     "Reminds me of our last year at school in Scotland," said Kasim, "We
had someone in our Sixth just like him, real Scots but not at all dour."
His smile was broader.  "A cross between that Curt and Logan with a touch
of the Frankie's, eh, Waz?"

     I was trying to get a mental image of such a chimera when Frankie
himself came over.

     "Couldn't have asked for better," he enthused, "Thanks for arranging
all this."

     I explained that Cheffie hadn't got over the munificence dispensed
after the wedding and Charles had done the spadework but he'd better give
the two lads something for their efforts.

     "Will do," he said, "Otherwise I'll be getting small portions next
year."  He grinned and whispered.  "Have to ask you.  Has Tris seduced them
or something 'cause they're looking at him all big-eyed like those lads at
the hotel?"

     I laughed.  "Not that I know, but he seems to have that effect on most
lads of a certain age." I pointed surreptitiously.  "He's got Sam and that
other lad hanging on every word and there's almost a queue to get his
attention."

     "Yeah, interesting," Frankie was eyeing his friends, "Sam asked me on
the way if Tris was really gay.  Apparently it's been a topic of
conversation when I'm not around as he plays rugger and he's friendly with
Milt's brother Wesley and he's certainly not.  I told him he is and it
certainly doesn't bother me." He tapped me on the arm.  "I said you and he
were very happy together.  That's right, isn't it?"

     I said we cared deeply for each other and what we'd experienced
recently I thought had strengthened it.  He nodded.

     "Dad said that to me after we left Ulvescott.  I only hope I meet
someone I can be happy with."

     I smiled at him.  "You will.  You've got time.  But you'd better get
back to organising, the sandwiches have just about gone!  But!" Here I held
up a finger and dragged the bag from under the piano.  "First things first.
Aldo left this lot.  I'll leave you to distribute the goodies but tell them
no displays."  Pity I said that as seeing some of the strapping Adonises in
just the minimum would have been eye-candy without comparison.

     Organisation was perfect.  He took one look in the bag.  Assessed the
nature of the contents.  Clapped his hands again.  He certainly had their
attention as he held up the packets with their colourful contents.  He
ripped open one and held up a really snazzy pair of light blue boxers, then
another with one of the ubiquitous red silky thongs.

     "Just to say these are from my Uncle's latest range.  There's a big
launch later in the year and you'll be expected to buy everything else."
He waved a dark green tanga brief.  "Wear them with pride! One pack each
and if you think they won't fit exchange them amongst yourselves. "

     No general scramble but a quiet murmur as packs were opened and
contents held up.  I saw Jack exchange a pair of rather large red boxers
for a red thong with Sam.  Bozo and Harpo were laughing as they matched
with mauve tangas.  Two other of the lads who were obviously more than
friends, but probably hadn't yet come out, were whispering something as
they held out their packets.  Yes, my gaydar had definitely pinged.

     Time was passing rapidly so another clap and half went off with
Frankie stuffing their gifts into pockets and Tris and I were left with
about fourteen assorted hunks.  Yes, all were destined for universities in
a few months, as long as the dreaded A Level results were OK.  Two others
were coming to Cambridge, Pembroke and Emmanuel, two for Oxford, the rest
scattered around the country.  I knew Jack was destined for University
College London but one I remembered as being continually in detention for
various misdemeanours said he'd opted for Aberdeen as he was a golf fanatic
and the golf courses in Scotland were the best.  Whatever rocks your boat,
I thought.

     They wanted to know more about Cambridge.  Also they'd heard about our
involvement in things in Rothenia.  We knew there had been a long news item
on TV with a shot of us receiving our medals but little other detail.  Tris
went off and came back with our red boxes and we showed them our Orders of
Henry the Lion.  We just said we'd got involved in helping to rid the
country of some nasties.  Least said the better, I thought.  We had to
repeat things when the other lot came back.  They were convulsed after
having viewed the middle cellar.  All had postcards and Tris and I happily
autographed the ones showing the dancers.  "Bloody Hell!" I heard one say,
looking intently at the card with Frankie on it, "Don't know if I'd want my
knackers on display like that, but that's going up in my bedroom!  I might
even scan it and use it as my Desktop!"

     After they'd all gone, and the lads had cleared up and left with a ten
pound note each tucked in their top pockets, Tris said he couldn't have
thought of a better way of ending our years in College.  "Funny, as far as
we're concerned they're the next generation!  A bit like the end of that
book Dr Thomson translated."

     That evening at the Club we were besieged by those who had now heard
about Aldo's visit and wanted to know more, but before that we had the
usual welcome from Delon on the way in.  Looking at Delon I wondered if
Shawn might be persuaded to let Unc design a more trendy bouncer's uniform
rather than the black shirt and slacks which seemed to be standard for most
clubs around so I almost missed the conversation between Tris and him.

     Tris had picked up a book on the chair just inside the door.  Delon
was a great reader and there was always a tome of some sort ready for him
to peruse in quiet moments.

     "What's this, Dell?" I heard Tris say, "Still reading about the
cinema?"

     I knew Delon was a great cinema buff so wasn't surprised.

     "Yeah, it's a new book.  History of the cinema.  Fascinating how many
film stars changed their names, you know!"

     Tris nodded.  "Wasn't John Wayne really Marion something or other?"

     "Correct, Marion Morrison.  There's a lot more, Danny Kay, Cary
Grant..."  I zoned in at this point, I knew his given name was Archibald
Leach.  Delon was listing on his fingers.  "...Anna Neagle, Doris Day,
Diana Dors, but the most interesting one is that van Lesbian fella."

     Tris looked puzzled.  "Van Lesbian?  Who?  Never heard of him."

     "You know, he started off as Penis van Lesbian..."

     Even I paid more attention.  "Who?" I echoed.

     "...then changed his name to Dick van Dyke!"  Delon roared with
laughter as usual when he generally bested Tris in the one-liner repartee.

     "Blo-oo-dy hell!" breathed Tris, "That caps the lot!"

     I grinned behind Tris's back and Delon gave me a big wink.  I would
reward that by sending down two drinks tonight!

     The place was heaving.  Lots in and with all the interest we handed
out about a dozen packs of undies and gave Curt, Logan and Raph tops as
well.  Curt was both bubbly and subdued.  Bubbly because Aldo had praised
him over his get-up and had promised he could be a model at the show, but
subdued in that he was going to be responsible for lunch tomorrow.  "Gotta
get it right," he said, "It's a straight roast beef and Mr Phillips doesn't
want it overdone.  I think I've got it all worked out and Lolly's good as
sous-chef."  He said the last a bit louder and the nose wrinkle was there.
So was Logan.

     "I heard that, you wee brat!" he said, looking as usual resplendent in
his kilt and Jacobean shirt, "I'm nae sous anything.  I'll get on with my
bits and I told you I want the oven right up while the meat's resting for
the Yorkshires!"

     Curt looked up at him.  "Ooh Lolly, I do love it when you're so butch
and manly!"

     Logan was not pleased.  "Dinna keep saying things like that.  People
will get the wrong idea.  And less of the Lolly!"

     Irrepressible.  "I like wrong ideas.  And I want Lolly all the time!"
The grin told it all.  Logan couldn't be annoyed.

     "Will you get back to serving," he said, shaking his head "There's a
queue of orders and Shawn said he'll let us off early."

     "Early to bed, eh?" I said, winking at him.

     He grinned.  "Dinna you start, but I'm so pleased.  I hope it'll work
out."


     Yes, dinner on Sunday was perfect.  We cycled there and was met at the
door by Jacob with glasses of champagne.  Yes, we had to show our medals
and Paul said he'd checked and we were now entitled to put OHL after our
names as well.  James just chuntered and said some of these youngsters just
collected letters when someone he knew who'd lectured at London University
was just BSc, FRS.  The grin on his face was there though.

     So that day ended my lawful occupation of the set.  I was no longer
the Pennefather Organ Scholar, just another student as I would be doing
Part III next year with the added pleasure, I hoped it would be, of
tutoring as well.  Wayne trundled two lots of boxes and bags for us from
College to the flat above the offices on Monday morning.  No front door
entrance.  That was reserved for clients of the firm!  As tenants we had a
back door and three flights of stairs which would keep us fit.  Still, the
flat was roomier than I had expected.  Two bedrooms, a good- sized sitting
room, a small room I could have as a study, a kitchen and all mod cons,
plus a view almost across to King's.  I unpacked and realised this was my
home now.  When Tris came up at one o'clock he grabbed me and we spent most
of his lunch hour pouring out our libations to the household gods as he put
it.

     As we untangled ourselves from the new bed he had to dress again.  "Is
this going to happen every day?" he asked, bending down and giving me a
kiss, "I'm starving and I stink.  Up you get!  I need a sandwich and a
shower."

     The shower worked and smelling sweet and hunger satisfied he said I
could have the afternoon off as long as I stocked the fridge and made a
list of things still needed in the flat.  Hunh!  I wondered who was in
charge!


     The rest of the summer just flew by.  We got the flat to the state we
wanted it and Sean, bless his heart, kept us clean and tidy and helped us
keep fit at the gym we joined.  Mum and Dad had a wonderful time with the
month of Summer Schools.  I dreaded to think what the house looked like
with Toad, Pugsy and the Arab pair in residence but Aunty Dil and Mrs
Coombs apparently kept them in order.  Towards the end of July, while I was
working through a paper James had given me to read, I had a phone call from
Mr Saunders.  He and the boys were arranging to spend a day in Cambridge,
would it be possible to meet?

     We met during the morning and the boys were delightful.  I could
imagine the elder one being stroppy if he didn't get his way as he had
quite a confident air, but he was also undoubtedly gay.  While Granddad and
his brother went off to look at King's I sat and chatted to Ben in my old
set where Mum and Dad were now staying.  He was very open about himself.
He'd realised he was only interested in other boys and, although he knew
several girls of his own age, he never had any urge to take them out on
dates, he just liked being friends with them.  He said there were two boys
at school he liked particularly, one in his form, the other in the class
above.  How would he know he was in love?  I said that was a difficult
question.  Best to see first if the boys wanted to be friends and take it
from there.  He nodded.

     "Mike's the one in my form.  He likes the things I do.  We've been
fishing, he plays the trumpet in the school orchestra with me and we both
like maths." He paused.  He was getting very confidential.  "And we've done
something together a couple of times...."  His voice petered out.

     Keep it straightforward and don't ask 'what?'.  "Seems promising," I
said evenly, "Does he live near you?"

     "Next village." He did seem a bit relieved I hadn't enquired further.

     "Why not suggest a sleepover, or see if he would like to come to
Greece with you."  Ben had explained the family were off to a villa on
Rhodes last couple of weeks in August.  "Can he afford it?"

     Ben nodded.  "I expect so, his father's a GP and there's just him and
an older sister and she's in the Sixth Form." He smiled.  "We're both into
swimming, too.  He's good and he could teach me to be better."

     "Minimal clothing," I said.  I fished into my shoulder bag.  "Give him
one of these."  I'd put a small selection of Unc's undies in and handed him
two packs of the popular thongs.  He stared and then grinned, and then
blushed.  "OK," I said, "You've just imagined what he'd look like, eh?"

     He nodded and the blush receded. "He does weights as well.  Not much
'cause his Dad says he shouldn't overtrain.  He says I should do them as
well.  Posing in these?"

     I laughed.  "I guess you'll find out exactly how he feels about you
out there.  Sun, sea, sand..."  I didn't add 'sex' but flicked over another
pack.  "...And you'd better give Hal this one or he'll feel left out.  I
think he'll grow into it."

     Ben laughed.  "He's beginning to grow..."  He realised he might be
betraying a secret but confidentiality had been established.  "...about the
same as I was."

     "What about the older lad?" I asked.

     "I'm not sure.  He's Tim Gould and he lives along the road from us."
His brow furrowed.  "I don't know.  It's just the way he looks at me.  He's
a bit shy but he's very clever."

     "Why not ask him to help if you have problems with your homework."

     He grinned.  "I don't usually have problems."

     "Invent something.  Say you want to know how a water softener works or
something like that."  That discussion had taken place as Frankie had
described the very upmarket fitments in the latest house Mr Coombs was
building and no one there knew how those things worked.  Wasim had found
out and was now known as 'Prof' on the site.

     He laughed.  "Could try.  But I think I'll keep to Mike first." A
minor Toad as the nose wrinkled.  "Mustn't be a slut!"  At fifteen and
thinking such things!!

     We then discussed his musical interests.  Yes, he enjoyed playing.  He
smiled when I said about his Granddad's comment about over loud pop.  I
asked to hear him play.  It was the first movement of a Haydn Sonata.  I
guessed somewhere between Grades Five and Six.  I said that when I came for
interview I had Grade Eight Piano, Organ and Clarinet and he would have to
work hard especially if he wanted to come as an Organ Scholar.  He would
have to have lessons.  No, he didn't go to church, but his music master was
organist at a church in Sherborne and he got on well with him.  He could
ask his father to arrange lessons.  Sooner the better, I said, it might
smooth your path!  He screwed his face up.  "You've got me sussed," he
laughed.  I said it was most important to have a good relationship with his
father.  I said about Dad and about Tris's father.  "Dad's OK," he said, "I
think I'm just scared of what he'll think of me."

     I said he would only know if he trusted his father.  He nodded.  "I
do, but he is so busy with school.  I'll try.  Granddad is coming back for
a few days.  I'll do it!"

     Granddad and Hal returned about half-twelve.  Ben and I had been
chatting for over an hour and he was visibly more relaxed.  No questions
were asked as young brother was there but he gave Ben a knowing look.  As
the cellars would be empty of visitors during lunch I showed them how to
unlock the secret door and then we went down into the middle cellar first.
Both boys screeched which I knew was a general response of the younger
visitors, and middle-aged ladies who should know better!

     Hal pointed.  "Is that your brother?"  At thirteen prurient interest
was well-established.  He looked round.  Granddad had retreated to the
comparative safety of the large cellar.  "Bigger than you, Ben!" I grabbed
both before internecine hostilities erupted.  "Only jealous," Hal said,
"Mine's nothing like his either."  I let go and he looked up at me.
"You've been talking about things," he said quietly.  "Granddad said it was
personal when I asked him but I guessed.  It's alright, I know he's gay."
He put out a hand and grasped his brother's arm.  "I'm sorry but I saw what
you'd written and thrown away.  I wanted a piece of paper and found it.  I
know about Uncle Steve and Gavin and I love them both.  I love you, too,
even though you grump at me.  And I'm sure Mum knows about you."

     I looked at Ben.  The tears were there.  I put an arm round his
shoulder.

     "My young brother accepted me, Ben.  Hal's doing the same for you.
That's a hurdle you won't have to jump."

     He sniffed and looked at his brother.  "Sorry, Hal, it's difficult.
Granddad knows and I'm telling Mum and Dad went I get home."  He, in turn,
gripped his brother's arm.  "Thanks, I'll try..."

     Hal grinned.  "Don't bother.  I get on with you as you are.  You
wouldn't be the same otherwise."

     I hugged him, too.  Tears were dried and the two brothers smiled at
each other.  Granddad, who must have heard that last encounter came through
the door.

     "All settled?" he asked.  "And underneath that picture, too!"  He
laughed.  "And to think I sat up above here for three years and never knew.
Especially about the body!"

     We walked round and had a good look at the rest of the exhibition.  As
we went up the stairs at the end, and I'd locked the lower door, young Hal
was just in front of me waiting.  He was about three steps ahead so we were
eye to eye as he turned.  "You all beat Ben if that picture's true but I've
seen the chart he keeps.  Inch bigger since Christmas!  I'm keeping one,
too!"  Young brothers!  Bless 'em!!  Some of the time!!

     Tris was upstairs as we came through the door.  I'd arranged that he
came along 'using up my lunch time' as he'd said.  He hadn't had lunch so
we took up Mr Saunders' offer to take us for lunch at the restaurant on the
corner opposite King's.  The boys had lots of questions to ask, questions
about Cambridge, about music, about Tris's job and so on.  I think that
although Ben knew about his Uncle and Gavin it was good for him to see two
younger gay males interacting.  At the end of lunch Hal summed it all up.
Thirteen with a head screwed on!  "I'll make sure he comes here," he
announced, "Even if I have to keep him on the straight and narrow.  I can
nag better than Mum!"  Granddad just sat back with a smile on his face.

     A few days later I received two letters.  One from Mr Saunders
thanking me for talking to Ben.  He gave no details just ended the letter
'All's well that ends well'.  There was a postscript 'Of course, Hallam
hasn't stopped talking about the cellars and wonders if there are any more
codes to solve if he comes up as well.'.

     Ben's was to the point.  He said he had talked to his parents and both
said any decisions he made were his own and they would be behind him all
the way.  As long as he knew the problems of coming out at some time they
would support him, he was their son.  'Dad even said he was sorry if he got
worked up sometimes but sons were supposed to give their fathers hell to
remind them they had been boys once!  I'm starting organ lessons on
Monday!!  Mike likes the idea of Greece.  Thanks for everything, With love
to you and Tristan (and I mean that), Ben.'

     I just wondered what it would be like to be fifteen again.  No, I was
now twenty-one and had my future to think about.  I had achieved so much in
a few short years.  I had a chosen path, perhaps an already determined
path, but even though mystery had been my companion I knew that whatever
was to come, I must not waver.

                         The End

	This is the end of the present story of Mark and Tris and all the
adventures of Cambridge College life - as if it were! I would like to thank
all those who have sent messages of encourage- ment for each of my stories.
This one, in particular, has produced so many responses from musicians -
organists especially - that there is hope out there for Bach lovers
everywhere. 'Thass auld Bach" as Georgie said elsewhere!!  Some day, some
time, perhaps more!!
	Messages are always welcome - authors feed on them and need
stroking in the nicest possible way.  My e-mail address, disguised to
prevent spam, is joad130 [at] hotmail.com
	With all best wishes, Jo