Date: Fri, 27 Mar 2009 21:30:26 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: Sequel 8

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq 8:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster            The story-teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams  His well-proportioned boyfriend.  At College of Law.
Francis Michael Foster      Alias Toad/Gobbo   Mark's younger brother
Shelley Price-Williams      Tris's sister
Adam Benjamin Carr         Mark's cousin:  chunky and cheeky with it
Ivo Richie Carr                   Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat
Sophia Carr                         Their mother in Dorset
George Carr                        Their father: A farmer
Nathaniel Tempest              Adam's boyfriend: a church historian
Raphael Pack                      An Aussie blond bombshell
Jack Goodman                    Frankie's bosom pal
James Bowes-Chesterton    Frankie's pal Bozo
Patrick Montgomery           Frankie's pal Moggo
Anthony Pugsley                 Shelley's ardent boyfriend [Puggo/Pugsy]
Gregory Parks                     Bozo's friend [Harpo]


				Easter 2004

     I hurried down the stairs following Frankie who bounded down two at a
time.  Reaching the living-room I saw a tearful Pugsy being hugged by a
very concerned looking Raphael.

     "Fuckin' hell, the bastard can't do that!" I heard Raph saying as we
entered the room.

     "He said so," Pugsy said through great sniffs.

     I knelt down and put an arm up to hold him as well.  "What's
happened?" I asked.

     He took a great big sniff and looked at me.  His eyes were red.  "I've
been round Bozo's all morning doing Chem revision and I got home and my
father was there..."  'My father' said with a certain venom.  "...He was
packing things up.  He told me straight out he was asking Mum for a
divorce.  Good job Mum's at her sister's this weekend 'cause I swore at him
and said he was..." He sniffed again.  "...Shan't tell you what I called
him but when I finished he said if I felt like that I needn't expect him to
pay anything further for me.  If I wanted to be a plumber's mate as it
seemed I could pay my own way.  He had better things to spend his money on,
not being dragged down by a family he didn't need.  I belted him one
then!..."  He held up a rather bloodied fist.  "...Last thing I saw was the
bastard crawling on the floor."  He burst into tears then.  "It's Mum and
the girls I'm worried about... ...What will they do?"

     "He'll have to pay up for them," I said.  "Have you spoken to your
Mum?"  He shook his head.

     "Came straight round here."  He looked quite distraught.

     I could see the knuckles of his right hand were bleeding and there was
blood on his face where he'd tried to wipe away his tears.

     "Let's get you cleaned up and then you can ring your Mum.  Don't worry
about your father, he can sort himself out."

     Raph stood up with him and led him out to the cloakroom in the hall.
Frankie said he'd find some plasters.  I phoned Tris next door on my mobile
- he was sorting things out for supper - and told him come back round
sharpish.  I just said "It's Pugsy" to finish with and he asked "Father?",
I said "Yes".

     Pugsy looked more presentable when he came back from the cloakroom
with knuckles plastered and face washed just as Tris arrived.  "You can use
the phone in the kitchen," I said.  He went through and I closed the door.
I looked at Tris who didn't need to be told what had happened.  I could see
he had guessed.  "What happens if his father cuts him off?"

     Tris shrugged.  "I suppose the local authority will pay towards fees
but it's the living expenses he'll find difficult even with the maximum
student loan and that would be a millstone round his neck for years to
come.  I owe about nine thousand pounds even with what Dad's given me and
I've only survived this year because of the money from the Al-Hamed
Foundation."

     Frankie perked up at this having looked quite anxious over Pugsy's
predicament.  "He's sharing with me and my accommodation's free under
Pennefather.  He needn't pay for lodging."

     Tris looked at him and smiled.  "That would be good if it were
possible."  He looked at me.  "Does Oliver have to pay accommodation fees?"

     "Yes, I'm certain he does.  And it'll be the same with whoever shares
with Zack next year in the other set.  Zack'll get free accommodation under
the Pennefather Will but I wouldn't think the sharer will also benefit
other than being kept warm.  The College has expenses."

     Frankie was in militant mood.  "If I have free accommodation and the
set is mine under the Will then whoever shares with me should get it free,
too."  He looked at me.  "And that means Oliver shouldn't have paid this
year as you own the set!"

     "Hold on," said Tris, "We can't come to decisions just like that.
It'll need someone like Aubrey Fullerton or Dad with experience to sort
things like that out.  I may have a law degree but I would need to look
carefully at cases and precedents in relation to interpretation of Wills
and I can tell you it's not an easy area of law.  Think Dickens!"

     "Sounds straightforward to me," said Frankie, "The College owes Oliver
all the money his Dad's paid because he's on Mark's property."

     "I know it sounds simple," said Tris, "But it'll cost more than
Oliver's fees if it went to court for a decision!"

     "But Mr Fullerton is at the College and he's a QC."

     "I know, but it may be necessary to get a second opinion."

     "Your Dad!"

     Tris laughed.  "If lawyers did everything free then poor kids like me
and Shelley would starve!"  Before Frankie could make a retort Tris went
on, "Pennefather Scholars and Servants of the Chapel get their
accommodation and buttery free under the provisions of the Will.  What
would have to be decided is whether either could, as it were, sub-let their
property to another."  He laughed.  "Even leasehold law is tricky and there
have been plenty of changes in that in recent years.  Let's not speculate
but make suggestions."

     "And there's all that money coming in from the cellars.  They could do
things for poor students with some of that."  Frankie was working up to a
real frenzy.  "Pugsy's going to go to Cambridge even if I have to borrow
from Uncle Francesco or use my money he's promised me.  He's my friend and
I'm doing all I can for him!"

     "Frankie," I said, "Don't get worked up.  It may be that his father
will pay up.  If he doesn't then we'll have to see what can be done."

     Frankie nodded.  "OK, but we've got to help sort him out."  He shook
his head again.  "Bloody Hell, who'd think a father could be like that?"

     "Plenty are," said Tris, "I've learned a lot about family law this
year.  It's a major area for solicitors these days.  Divorce, abandoned
families, child abuse, settlements and so on.  It's quite frightening when
you read through transcripts of cases and court proceedings what some kids
and their families have to go through.  And it's not only fathers who
desert!  We're lucky and I say that with feeling."

     Eyes turned to the doorway as Pugsy came in.  He did look a mite
happier.  "Thanks," he said, "Mum said she expected it.  Apparently, he
more or less told her there was someone a bit more permanent at Christmas.
Said I wasn't to worry about hitting the bastard as it was what he
deserved.  She said I was going to Cambridge whatever he did as she's got
enough evidence on him to make him pay." He did manage a grin.  "Being his
secretary in the past might turn out for the best.  She said she and the
girls would stay away until Monday if I didn't mind.  Anyway," he looked at
me, "I hope you don't mind but I phoned my half-brother as well.  He went
up the wall and he's going round to the house to sort him out if he's still
there.  He lives in Crawley so he won't take long.  I'd better go as well."

     "No you don't," said Tris, "We don't want both of you had up for
assault which'll happen if you both are there and do anything together.
You stay here."

     "You're here until your Mum get back.  We've got the spare room and
there's plenty of clothes around," I said.

     Frankie laughed.  "You can have Marky's old cast-offs like I've had to
put up with for years.  Come on, cheer up.  Sounds as if you might be
better off without him."

     I thought that might be a bit heavy but Pugsy nodded.  "I despise the
shit!"  He looked at me.  "Can I really stay.  I don't feel like going back
to that house..."

     "....In case he's still there?" I said.  "You're welcome and I think
we could all do with some tea!"

     Over tea and a pack of hot-cross buns things relaxed considerably.  I
also noted the overt scrutiny Raphael was giving Pugsy sitting across from
him.  Then over the next few hours I noted the close attention Pugsy was
giving Raphael.  None of us were surprised when the pair went off to the
spare room together at bedtime.  I looked at Frankie who was losing his
bedmate.  He grinned.  "Saw it coming," was his whispered comment as we
three followed them a bit later up the stairs.

     We never enquired who wanked, sucked or fucked whom over the next
three nights but I know Tris surreptitiously put two packs of three on the
bedside cabinet on Easter Saturday morning.  On Monday evening when Pugsy
went home and Raph returned to warm Frankie in his bed nothing was said and
no packets, full or empty, were evident.

     When Mum, Dad, Auntie Dil and Uncle Nick returned on Monday morning I
and Tris met them as Uncle Nick parked the Lexus in their drive.  We
quickly told them what had happened and Pugsy was made even more welcome.
Uncle Nick said to us two privately that if Pugsy needed help or advice he
would be there.

     Of course, Frankie and Raph were intolerable for the next two or three
days.  Even Mum got a bit fed up with their constant, almost pre-adolescent
giggling at mealtimes.  I went into their bedroom on the Thursday evening
and said I didn't mind if they were fucking each other like little rabbits
but please tone down the puerile behaviour.  Toad's sneer was wiped
completely off his face by Raph's almost confession.

     "Sorry, Mark, but we've had a marvellous time.  Tony.."  He always
used Pugsy's given name.  "...says he'll tell you the same when he sees
you.  Yeah.  I've loved your brother..." Here he put an arm out and drew a
non-protesting Frankie towards him.  "...And I've loved Tony.  He's still
Shelley's boyfriend but he knows a lot more now."  He leaned towards
Frankie and brushed his cheek with a kiss.  "And the same with Frankie.  I
love them both and I've loved them both..."

     "...And the same for Pugsy and me," Frankie said quietly, then turned
and kissed a smiling Raph.  "We've got to find someone for you, mate!" he
said, "Even if he is a Hairy Monster!"  'Hary Moncrieff just wait' I
thought.

     Pugsy did come to have a chat on the Friday.  His half-brother hadn't
flattened their father again but had said if he made any trouble then he,
Craig, would see to it that his business pals would know what a shit he
was.  He'd cleared all his things out of the house and had left a note
saying he was going to live in Antibes in the South of France and it would
be the last they saw of him and Pugsy's Mum could have the house and he
would be paying maintenance for the girls.  On the Saturday Pugsy received
a cheque for twenty-five thousand pounds which went straight into a
Building Society account.  Frankie still chuntered on about free
accommodation and we said best to leave that to the College to sort out.
Before Pugsy left to gather up Shelley for an evening out he grinned.  "I
have a feeling quite a lot of us are a bit bi..."

     Of course, with Easter over we three were now on the downward path to
exams.  With two diplomas now under his belt Frankie felt quite confident
about Music.  He thought he would be OK with French as Laurent's father had
given him a crash course on the set books at half- term and had been very
complimentary about his knowledge and understanding.  History was another
matter.  However, Moggo, Raph and he had really slaved at the revision
notes and his coursework had been marked high.  Tris thought he would be OK
in his Law Society exams as long as he didn't forget the pernickety details
in contracts or conveyancing.  I was in my usual worry-mode.  For some
reason I'd got stuck on one particular question in last year's paper.  It
turned out to be just a question of notation but I spent two fruitless days
trying to work it but was managing to come to reasonable conclusions in
other sections.  I particularly liked the Logic sections I worked through
and even thought I might have a flair for that so-abstruse subject.  I
worked so assiduously I had to go and buy two more pads of lined paper at
Smiths as I was doing as many questions as possible from past papers.  I
talked to Fiona and Dina on the phone most evenings and we compared answers
and I must say I did seem to get there a bit faster even though we tended
to tackle the problems in the same way.  Timing, timing, timing was the
mantra.

     Back at College most of the Third Years seemed fairly frantic.  Gabe
and Josh seemed to be OK.  I know Gabe took a lot of advice from Charles
about picking suitable arguments in the various Philosophy papers.  If I
thought I might understand Logic then Gabe beat me hands down.  In fact, he
showed me several little hooks and that made me more confident.  Josh
wasn't quite as confident about Economics, though.  As he said, he didn't
have the Maths background some areas really required but..  "I only need a
Third," he said.  Oliver had worked steadily at his portfolio of pieces and
at past theory papers.  I would be working in my study and hear him try out
a fugue, chaconne or straight harmonisation on the piano in the main room.
Oliver, in my opinion, humble as it was, seemed to have music coming out of
his finger tips.  Safar had told me on the Burns Night visit at Ulvescott
that he was amazed at how fluent he was in writing in almost any genre.  I
knew Safar had suggested to the conductor that Oliver's 'Aubade' should be
tried out just at rehearsal.  The conductor put it straight into the next
program.

     A big announcement appeared on the College notice board outside the
Porter's Lodge during the second week of term.  I knew there had been a
meeting of Fellows on the Monday evening as James Tanner had been in a very
good mood that afternoon and I thought he was itching to tell me something
and High Table was crowded for the evening meal.  At twelve noon on the
Tuesday the notice went up.  Just a couple of lines.  'Mr Adam Carr BA
(St. Mark's College) to be Fellow in Modern History from September 1st
2004.'  I ran across to see it as an excited Jason had phoned me in my
study.  There and then I phoned home.  Mum was ecstatic and would let Dad
know as he was at a rehearsal in Croydon.  Adam was a great favourite.  I
phoned Ulvescott.  As usual Ibrahim answered.  Before I could say anything
he knew what I wanted.  "Adam's here on the computer."  He was ecstatic as
well.  "Cuz, I've made it," he said, "I couldn't wish for anything better.
I hope I can be a success."  I heard Ibrahim say "You are!"  I burbled on
about how pleased I was and I'd told Mum.  "For some reason there's a party
here on Saturday," Adam said almost nonchalantly.  "Bloody fool!" I heard
the very stately Ibrahim say behind him.  He must have taken the phone from
him.

     "He's never grown up has he?" he laughed.  "Anyway, as many as
possible are invited.  Get your friend Charles to hire a mini-bus or
something.  Just give us the numbers Saturday morning.  Be here by six.
All can crash down and we'll kick you out on Sunday afternoon."

     I made a list.  Of course a well as Charles and me and Oliver there
were Gabe and Josh and a couple of post-grads who had been friends of the
Thugs and a teacher at one of the Cambridge schools who had graduated with
him.  Raph couldn't be left out although he only knew him vicariously and
so it went on.  I ended up with a list of about fifteen from the Cambridge
end.  I heard that Tris, Mum, Frankie, Auntie Dil and Shelley would be
taken by Uncle Nick.  Dad was playing in Bournemouth so would miss it,
sadly.  Charles was so pleased, too.  He hadn't been at the meeting as he
wasn't at full Fellow level yet and, although he had known that evening,
there was an embargo on the announcement so he couldn't spill the beans.  I
think Mother was persuaded to part with more bottles of 'nectar' as one
important constituent addition to the coach party was a case of bottles.
In any case he would be visiting 'that place' he had heard us talk about.

     The evening was such a happy event.  Uncle George and Aunt Sophie had
come up from Dorset and they now had two sons who had made it.  There was a
superb buffet meal and then we toasted Ivo and 'Tory as well as other
absent friends.  It was very touching how both the Colonel and Sheikh
seemed to regard Adam as another grandson as it were.  The elder Doctor
Thomson made a speech saying he had endured being a Fellow of his College
for many years but they were such happy years really and he wished Adam
well for his career.  The lads who had never been to Ulvescott were quite
overwhelmed with the friendliness and the complete aura of the place, no
more so than when our crowd were being shown the Horsebox and Piers' room
by Jak and Max on Sunday morning.  There were gasps when the original
photos of Piers and Miles were seen in place on the wall.  Gabe didn't even
preface his remark with the customary emphatic expletive.  He came up
behind Tris and me and put his arms round us.

     "You've lived here before.  You'll live here again."

     No one else spoke but quite spontaneously everyone held hands.  The
two small boys were there too.

     "We'll be with you as well," said Jeremy as he held on to his new
uncle, Frankie.

     After lunch Frankie said he would show anyone who wanted to go the
memorial stone at the church and the dogs' graves.  There was a general
exodus with young Jeremy, Frankie and the wolfhound leading the way.  I did
then have a chance to congratulate my very erudite cousin.  "Got more news
for you," he said after waving away my perhaps too effusive flow. "I asked
Jenny Masterton on the QT about the three rods.  I had the Colonel's
permission.  Come into the study and I'll show you."  There he found a
folder and opened it.  He handed a page to me.  "Jenny thinks if the rods
have anything attached to them they might be representations of scourges.
This'll explain it."

     I wondered what 'scourges' meant but the note made it clear.

          'Dear Adam,

                    To answer your question about references to St Guthlac
          and rods.  By rods do you mean staves with attachments like short
ropes?
          If so, they might be scourges.  In the Guthlac Roll there is a
roundel of
          St Guthlac being handed a scourge by an angel.  I believe that
part of the
          penitential cult connected to the reverence of the saint was
self-flagellation.
          Also there is a coat of arms which may be associated with
Crowland
          Abbey that has four quarters, three knives top left, three
scourges top right
          and reversed below.  I have found a copy of that and enclose it
as well as
          a reproduction of the roundel.

                    I hope this answers your question satisfactorily.  I am
          intrigued over your interest and await explication of any further
          discoveries made.

                         Best wishes,

                              Jenny'

     "So, if there are scourges here and scourges there does this mean even
more of a connection?" I asked.

     "We'll have to get in touch with the Archbishop's Secretary and ask.
But before we do that I'll clear it through the Colonel as well.  I only
received this yesterday morning and with all the shenanigans I haven't had
a chance to talk to him properly about it."  He smiled.  "I get on so well
with the pair of them - and the rest of them here as well, and they
couldn't be more welcoming to both of us.  Nate's just about finished his
final chapter and he hopes to present in June.  He's going to be on our
tutorial staff next year and I have high hopes he'll be appointed to a
College post."  He looked so happy.  "I just hope I can edit these memoirs
satisfactorily."  He shook his head.  "They are so unbelievable.  The
things both of them had to do, either separately or together, are quite
amazing.  The big problem is whether they'll be allowed to publish.  Even
now some of the stuff would seem very sensitive to me but there's more than
enough already for a reasonably-sized book.  Then I've got to get down to
the College research."  He wrinkled his nose.  "I've even had time to do
some of that here as well.  I have to wait while they read through and
discuss what I've done with their notes so I have time.  In fact, this
place just lets me write.  It's awesome as time seems to stand still while
I produce masses of stuff.  Nate's the same.  He says he thinks he's at
least six months ahead and he's got two more articles ready as well about
the cellar.  He's got copies for you."

     Yes, as 'owner' of the cellar while in residence I'd had to give
permission for him to write and publish.  What a palaver!  Nate had said
last night he had a couple of things for me so I expected I'd get them
today.  In fact he appeared at that moment, carrying the younger little
boy, Andrew.

     "There's Uncle Mark," he said.  "Andrew wants you to play the organ
again before you go and could he come to the College and see the organ
there because he only heard it for the service?"  He put the lad down and
he stood looking up at me.  I crouched down at his level.

     "As soon as I finish my exams you must come.  Do you want to learn to
play?" I said.

     He nodded and smiled.  "Mummy says I must learn the piano first.  It's
to do with technique she says."  For a four-year-old he seemed most
articulate and could also read well as yesterday I heard him ask Frankie
what a Quadrille was as he stood by him at the grand piano and Frankie was
turning the pages of a collection of pieces.

     "Yes," I said, "I started to learn the piano when I was six and a bit
and my Mum thought my hands were big enough."

     "That's over another year," he said - a budding mathematician as well,
"I don't know whether Jeremy will want to learn.  He likes computers but I
like music."  He looked so solemn and confident.  "I think I'll go and find
Uncle Francis and he can play the piano for me.  It's difficult.  I have so
many Uncles called Francis."  He paused.  "But only one Uncle Mark." He
reached out and patted my hand.  "You won't forget will you?"  He turned
and trotted off to look for the absent Uncle Francis.

     I slowly got up.  "Was I like that at that age?"  I looked at a
grinning Nate.  "And Adam tells me you have things for me."

     He went over to a second desk in the room and picked up a folder from
there.  "Permission sought and granted, I hope."  He handed me the folder.
Inside were two neatly typed documents.  One title started, 'Hidden
wall-paintings in St Mark's College Cambridge', the other 'Persons
represented in the wall paintings in St Mark's College Cambridge'.  He
pointed at the second one.  "That one's not finished yet."

     I was intrigued with that second title.  "I didn't know that you could
identify anyone in the originals."

     He smiled and went to the desk again and came back with a larger
folder and took out several ten by eight photos.  "Come over to the desk,"
he said, "I can show you more clearly.  In fact it's something I've only
been able to do with Adam's help.  That paper...," he pointed at the folder
I was now carrying, "...will be in our joint names when it's finished.  I
made him add his."

     He spread out three of the photos which fitted together and showed
part of one of the larger pictures as a panorama.  It was just the feet of
the first three characters which now had the Captain of Boats portrayed as
the initial one.  Yes!  The photos had been enhanced and faint sets of
letters could be discerned.

     "I thought there were words or something when I looked at my photos
and the ones Lenny took.  Adam suggested I asked Dude if his police
photographer could help."  He looked at me.  "It was because of what had
been seen in the footprints when they were enhanced."  Yes, Dude had
explained what had been done when we were shown those photos after that
death.  "Lenny was very helpful and blew up his digital photos and fiddled
with the pixels and these are sets of initials.  Voila!  T J W in the first
photo.  Over to you, Adam!"

     I was peering carefully at the photo.  OK, it was probably those
letters.

     "My job was to look at the College register of students at the time.
I found Thomas Jenkins Woodward of Helmingham in Suffolk.  I then looked at
the Suffolk Poll Book of 1790 and there is a Thomas Jenkinson Woodward,
living in Bungay with his freehold property in Helmingham.  I guess he was
the lad's father.  I've still to do a bit more research to check and see
what happened to him.  I've managed to sort out possible lads associated
with other sets of initials as well.  That one was easy because there were
three initials but most of the others only had two.  Ones I've sorted out
all seem to be sons of landowners, minor gentry as it were, in
Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire and Suffolk.  All as one might expect."  He
looked past me at the door.  There was obviously no one listening as he
went on, "Proper little nest of sodomy and related practices I would guess
with plenty of willing participants."

     I pointed at the third photo.  "Those seem clearer than the first
ones.  J R."

     He held up two fingers.  "Two possibilities there but I think I know
who.  It could be Joshua Rowland, or Jeremiah Ray.  I had a quick look at
the lists of errant students in Dr Smart's History and he lists Jeremiah
Ray as being rusticated for non-payment of his buttery bill in the month
after the discovery of the naked boys in the cellar, which, of course, he
doesn't mention.  There are others guilty of the same misdemeanour at the
same time which would usually just mean getting Daddy to pay up.  Two of
them were George Sharman and Thomas Maynard and their initials are probably
the ones we've found on the other wall.  They both came from Suffolk, too,
and all returned to College the next term.  The others will be mainly
guesswork unless Lenny can do a bit more with the photos or Nate can
uncover anything else on the walls when he's in College again.  Permission
for that?"

     "I'll get my solicitor, once he's qualified, to draw up the
agreement!"

     "Sod off, matey, we need it now!" said Adam..

     "What do you want now?"  Three figures were at the door, Tris, Max and
Jak.  It was Jak who asked.  "Anyway Uncle Sayed says he's always asking
questions."  He laughed.  "About the work, of course."

     Of course, it all had to be repeated.

     "Never had anything like that up at Sheffield Uni," Jak said.  "It's
only these hotbeds of vice down South where things like that could happen."

     "Sheffield University wasn't even invented then," said Max, "The
inhabitants of the hamlet at the time probably practised incest in the
fields, when it didn't rain!"

     "Bit backward if they had to practise," said Tris, "But then, don't
you come from somewhere up North, Max?  Proficient?"

     "Only child, aren't you Max, old love?" interjected Jak before Max
could either answer or move to annihilate Tris, "And I can tell you he's
more than proficient.  Brought up on a farm, though, and I sometimes
wonder..."

     Max turned to him but Adam interrupted any reprisals, "I was too, but
I had a friendly brother.  We had some very pretty sheep, though.  Did you
Max?"

     The battle-lines were being redrawn.

     "'Little lamb who made thee?'  Always sounded odd.  Same for you,
Max?" asked Nate.

     Max shook his head and laughed.  "OK, OK." He pointed at me.  "Last
one!  And your contribution?"

     "I suppose with you and Adam off your farms at the moment, 'Sheep may
safely graze'."

     I must admit I felt rather pleased at the general guffaw even if the
pair of them also raised fists which were grabbed by their respective
partners - in crime?

     It was a good thing that little bit of badinage had petered out as
young Andrew reappeared.  "Uncle Francis has gone out.  Can I hear you play
now?  On the organ.  Granddad says you can."  By 'Granddad' I assumed he
meant his great-grandfather, Dr Thomson.

     Yes, of course.  The first piece I played, really for the farm-lads'
benefit, was the ninth movement from Bach's cantata number 208.  Yes, they
all recognised the piece.  Their sheep were OK!

     Everyone joined up again for tea and then farewells.

     More celebrations were held the next Friday.  A College Dinner to
celebrate the election of the new Fellow.  This was held in the new Dining
Room and I was very honoured to be invited, with partner, as the invitation
was to Mr Mark Foster and Mr Tristan Price-Williams.  The student
contingent comprised Student Union President, Servant of the Chapel,
Pennefather Organ Student, Captain of Boats and Captain of Rugby.  I noted
out of our little lot I was the only one with a partner, male or otherwise.
However, it was evident that Adam had Nate as his partner and two more male
pairs of James Tanner with Paul Phillips and another don with his.  I
wasn't surprised, either, that Dr Alice Anstruther-Lamb had a lady partner
with her.  The rest making up the thirty included the Master and Mrs Mays,
the Chaplain and Mrs Henson, the Bursar and wife, Safar and Cressie and so
on, with bachelor dons making up the final balance with Charles as no final
lightweight!  Good food and fine wine were the order of the evening and it
was, again, a very happy occasion.  Adam had to reply to the toast and I
was very moved with his quiet sincerity.  Like any Oscar winner he thanked
his family and, especially, his absent brother.  I didn't get a mention but
got a smile as he raised his glass to toast the College.  Others I was most
impressed with that evening were the beaming pair, Sean and Curt, who with
a couple of other youngsters, kept all the diners fed and watered with such
efficiency.

     We did meet the 'Hairy Monster' that weekend.  Hary Moncrieff turned
out to be a delightful young man.  I got on extremely well with him, in any
case, because his mother had attended all the recitals held in the Chapel
and had been very complimentary about all she'd heard.  Later we told Raph
he should see if Hary was really interested.  During the week Raph came in
to see me and looked quite ecstatic as Hary had made almost the first
approach in asking him if he wanted a boyfriend.  He also brought the news
that Hary's brother, Franz, was recovering well after the operation and was
learning to walk again.  He was also pleased with his brother's choice as
well.  Gabe, of course, put it quite bluntly.  "Glad the little bastard's
got his tackle tickled regularly now!"

     Sadly though, other than a couple of visits to the Club my time at
College was coming towards a climax.  The Finals.  I'd managed to have
three extra tutorials with James and had worked with Fiona and Dina quite
diligently, comparing approaches and trying to second-guess the examiners.
Of course, there were the usual student searches for patterns in past
papers and forecasts of the way questions might lie given the interests of
certain lecturers.  All too soon Monday May the thirty-first came.  All too
soon the time of one-thirty came when in sub-fusc I joined the other mainly
unhappy toilers and turned the page on the signal from the invigilator
after reading the instructions which ended with the ominous words 'Write
legibly, otherwise you place yourself at a grave disadvantage'.  Six
questions to be attempted in three hours.  Ouch!  But I was away.  I
tackled the Markov Chains question first.  It was the first question and
half an hour later I thought with my reasonable handwriting it might be OK.
Functional Analysis next.  Good!  I had mugged up as much as I could
understand on Hilbert Spaces.  I sped on, Groups, Rings and Fields and on
and on.  Those three hours disappeared in some Black Hole.  And that was
only the first day.  Three more to come before the end of the week.

     Our unhappy band of pilgrims marched into town.  "No post-mortems!"
ordered Fiona, as we crowded into Starbucks.  "I need a pee," I said and
that almost started a stampede as most who had followed, or were already
in, realised their bladders were also ready to release.  Anyway, a grande
latte later I felt more relaxed.  "Not too bad," opined Dina in defiance of
orders.  I nodded, hoping I had quoted a lemma I had used correctly.  "Day
off tomorrow," said Fiona.

     True.  The three other papers were scheduled for Wednesday, Thursday
and Friday.  At the end of the examination on Friday my undergraduate days
at Cambridge would come to an end.  Three years.  What would I have to show
for it?

     The rest of the week went so rapidly.  Others on our stair doing
Finals seemed just as dazed as me.  As usual there were dire tales of how
some poor sod had collapsed and had been led out.  Oliver alone seemed
serene but we did have a couple of chaste hugs which helped to allay fears
and any feelings of distress.

     On Friday for two of my four questions I chose essays.  It wasn't a
sense of euphoria I felt but a feeling of peace as if I was being led
through a mathematical maze and quite definitely reaching the centre.  I
completed all four questions I had chosen but never had time to check over
my deliberations.  No, not deliberations.  There was a feeling of certainty
as I wrote copiously, especially on the final question I chose.  It was on
Number Theory.  I'd sketched out twelve points to make including a couple
I'd explored myself.  I looked at my watch.  Just under an hour to go.
Even if the rest was crap I knew I would give the old buggers something to
mull over with these thoughts.  All too soon the three hours ended.

     I think there was a feeling of some sadness amongst the little group
of Maths students, including Fiona and Dina, I had got to know over the
three years as we clustered round outside the exam hall and shook hands and
then smiled at each other wanly and wished each other well.  I would miss
that comradeship.  I would miss the two girls especially.  Over the three
years we three had become almost a little family.  Their plans were made.
Fiona was going to try the statistical branch of the Civil Service and Dina
was destined for another student year at the Institute of Education in
London.  "I want to teach," she had said quite firmly.  That left me.  I
had done as James had said and applied for Part III.

     I wandered to the Porter's Lodge to see if there was any post.  Old
Albert must have gone to lunch and Liam was there sorting through a pile of
letters, flyers, and other assorted mail and poking it into the
pigeonholes.  I joined the queue and passed the usual pleasantries with
others who had endured another morning of exams.  Liam spotted me and gave
me a grin and pointed to the F pigeonhole.  There was an envelope for me.
A note from James asking me to see him at three if convenient.  Probably no
go for Part III, I thought.

     I went straight to lunch in Hall but it all seemed odd.  I kept
thinking 'I'm not a student anymore'.  Three years had suddenly come to an
end.  I plonked down in an empty space having chosen a rather
tasty-smelling stew.

     "Why the vacant look?"

     It was Josh, without Gabe for once.

     I managed a smile.  "Just post-examination blues, I think.  You
finished, too?"

     "Yes, and before you ask I think I only buggered up one paper!"

     Three other voices entered in canon.  "You're not the only one..."

     Other now not-undergraduates.  People I had brushed shoulders with,
doing Psychology, Theology, German, Anglo-Saxon, Land Economy, whatever,
all now finished their three years.  Cheer up, Mark, don't get maudlin.
Life begins at twenty-one!  The blues lifted a little.

     I chatted on with Josh and a couple of the others.  He was going to
some bash this evening with his girlfriend and...  The others had plans,
too.  Mostly sounding as if a glorious piss-up after a meal would be
involved.  I thought I would go to the Club, but Tris wouldn't be there.
He had another week to go before he finished his exams in London.  I would
phone him this evening and that would cheer me up further.

       But, Term hadn't finished.  I still had Chapel duties.  Sunday was
my turn for morning service but Ben and Gwiliam had said they would help
out.  I had better check hymns and readings and choose suitable incoming
and outgoing pieces.  I went into the Chapel and just played.  That sense
of peace I had in the exam came back.  Damn!  I'd better hurry.  I had an
appointment at three.  I switched off everything and made my way across to
James' room.

     I knocked and when he called out I entered wondering why he wanted to
see me.  There was a young man sitting in the chair by the desk.  He looked
familiar.  James smiled as the lad stood up.

     "Jonathan tells me you two haven't met though he's heard plenty about
you!"

     I did a double-take.  'Jonathan?'  Then I twigged.

     "You're Jason's brother!" I said and inwardly laughed as I almost
completed the statement with Jason's description of his sixteen-year-old
brother at the time when Adam made his discovery of Johannes Knottus's
exploits.  'Waanker!'  I looked and saw a most handsome young
nineteen-year-old.  Like Jason when I knew him first.  Open-faced, smiling,
with a shock of dark hair.  Wow!  I put out a hand and we shook.  My, a
powerful grip.

     Both he and James laughed.  "I think Jason has kept him hidden away
from College so he didn't get contaminated.  I must admit I've known him
since he was that high!"  That high was about a foot and a half.

     "Dr Tanner, please.  Dad said he didn't want me to join the usual
tribe of Knotts here."  He looked at me.  "But I think you knew I'm coming
here next year - with Jason...."

     "...And Jonathan's reading Maths and that's what I want to talk to you
about."  James waved at two chairs by the desk, one piled with books, the
other was clear as Jonathan had been sitting there.  "Come on, sit and you
can tell me if you agree."  I managed to find space on the desk and on the
floor for volumes of some German series involving Topology, Riemann
Surfaces and Banach Spaces as far as I could see from the Gothic script
titles of the top three.  "Jonathan completed his A Levels last year so
he's been doing some useful work building a school in Burundi for the last
few months.  Now he's back he's promised to do some Maths over the summer.
Next term he's got to have a supervisor and I thought between us you could
do most of the work."  He laughed.  "Other side of the fence and it'll keep
your brain active on basics while you toil on higher things."

     Me?  Tutoring?  "But I don't even know if I'll be accepted for next
year."

     James waved a dismissive hand.  "Probably OK.  From what I've been
told about your efforts so far they just about reach my expectations.  Are
you willing?"

     I looked at Jonathan and said nothing.  He leaned forward.

     "If you can teach Jase to play the organ you can teach me.  He says
he's learned so much..."

     I held up both hands, palms out, in defence.  "I helped Jason but he
was good anyway."  I felt a real heel after saying that.  I didn't mean to
put Jonathan down.

     But, no.  James laughed again.  "I think you'll find the same with
Jonathan."  A quiet 'Dr Tanner'.  "No Jonathan, I think you and Mark will
be perfect.  So, for the second time of asking.  Are you willing?"  He was
grinning broadly.  "And I don't need to tell you there's money involved."

     I liked the look of Jonathan.  No, not in that way.  If he was like
Jason I would help him willingly, money or no money.  I nodded.  "OK, I'm
willing and I guess I'll have the other one for more organ lessons."

     Jonathan laughed.  "Jason has just finished his A Levels so he's got
to wait.  I'm sure he'll be OK, though.  Can I tell him about the organ
lessons?"

     I nodded.  "No money involved for those.  Just thanks for the way he's
looked after me and my friends over the past three years."

     James looked so pleased.  "I'd better explain.  Their father was my
gyp when I was a student so I've followed the family fortunes ever since.
In fact, I told Gerry to grab their Mum or someone else would.  They're my
godsons so I hope I'm doing my duty by letting him loose on you."

     I laughed.  "I'll do my little best," I said and leaned over and
Jonathan and I shook hands on that.  I looked at James.  "Jason never said
you were his godfather and I've had plenty of chats with him."

     "Jason's a very astute lad," said James, "He's never going to
broadcast anything like that in case people think he's got a job, or a
place as a student, because of it.  Neither of those is the case.  He
wanted to work here and then Dr Henson suggested he should apply to be a
student here.  Dr Henson knows I'm his godfather but, again, it was
suggested on merit."  He wagged a finger at Jonathan.  "No gossip!"

     "Jason knows what I think of him.  He's my brother and we're good
friends, too."

     "My brother's coming up next year and I think we're good friends,
too."  I laughed.  "Young brothers are funny creatures but I won't go into
that now."

     "I wouldn't know," James said, "I had two much older sisters and I
think we're still friends though I threatened to batter one of my nephews
when he was younger many times!  Luckily for me he read Classics when he
came up and I quite like him now!"

     Jonathan got up.  "I'd better go, Uncle James, or do I have to call
you by your academic titles now?"

     James made as if to throw the nearest book.  "It'll depend on what the
standard of your work is, my lad."

     "And I shall be Mister Foster if you're not diligent," I said, giving
a faint imitation of a Charles hand gesture.  Fist and raised thumb.

     He said his goodbyes and left.  James looked at me and raised his
eyebrows.

     "I have high hopes of that lad.  Thanks for agreeing to supervise him.
Plenty of work.  Nose to the grindstone."

     I hope my sneer was up to Toad's standard.  "I know.  My nose is worn
right down."  I smiled.  "But I would like to say how much I have
appreciated the time and effort you've spent on me."

     A slight wave of the left hand.  "We shall just have to wait and see
if the effort's been worthwhile.  But, I have something else to discuss
which is rather important.  Again, I think it will involve you."  He leaned
back and interlaced his fingers.  A gesture I knew would involve some
rather profound statement to be made.  "The evicted student Tristan foisted
on us at Christmas..."  He saw my rather startled look.  "...I thought that
would concentrate your attention."  He smiled.  "No, he wasn't foisted.
Jerzy's a quite delightful young man.  But, and this is where you might be
involved..."  'Aha' I thought so!  "...His father is Professor Aloys zum
Adamszberh and, believe it or not, he is a mathematician teaching at the
main university in Rothenia.  Now, he's so pleased his son's been sorted
out he wants to thank us all in some way.  I've had a very effusive letter
from him and he's suggested there could be a student exchange which he
would get his university to finance.  Apparently he's very high up the
academic ladder at the Rodolfer University in Strelzen and from something
Jacob found on a website he is likely to be the next Rector of the
university.  I gather that's like the Vice-Chancellor here - big boss on
all the committees.  He's suggested that as a start we should send someone
out to find out what they can offer and it should be someone who knows what
we offer undergraduates here."

     OK, James, get to the point.  Why discuss such things with me?  The
answer was coming straightaway!

     "Well, I had a word with the Master and he obviously wants you off the
premises for the next couple of months...."  I was getting used to
Professor Tanner's sense of humour!  "...as he suggested you.  He did
remark he has a recording of the grand organ in the Vitali Cathedral and
you might wish to hear it in person as it rivals the monster at Passau."
He did grin at this point.  "Paul dragged me to hear that on the way from
Munich to Linz so it was a bit of a detour but it was worth it!"  He passed
over a piece of paper from the desk.  "An invite from the Master for lunch
on Sunday to discuss the matter.  Are you game?"

     What could I say?  I wanted to remain at the College.  I knew, or
hoped, the Master had my best interests at heart from all the vibes I'd
received.  Rothenia?  Cropping up again.  A visit?  Charles' Ring?  I did
think of that in capitals.  The burnt papers?  The body in the Elbe?  The
'Guthlac Stone'?  The scourges?  Was I to experience some masochistic act?
Could I say anything about all that?  I'd better consult Adam and the
Colonel.  But...

     "As it's the Master I'd better say yes!"

     "Good!  I thought you would.  Paul and I will be there and you can
tell us all about meeting the King."


To be continued: