Date: Sun, 14 Dec 2003 23:58:43 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 79

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws
of your country or district please desist.  If you are a bigot or
prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking
literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself.
Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.

This is a very long tale.  It unfolds over a good number of years.  What is
true, is true: what is not is otherwise.


			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel

				Chapter 46

				(Part Two)


As I cycled the rest of the way home I thought that, although he was a bit
of a rogue, there was something very likeable about Josh.  The absolute
effrontery of appearing in front of the panel of medics and pulling off the
deception needed a good deal of guts.  He was quite open about it.  And
that other thing wasn't entirely his fault.  I thought he'd been rather
manipulated by the younger lad.  He obviously enjoyed what the kid had done
to him but I didn't think he had started that particular episode.  Tom had
judged Sam as dangerous.  I valued Tom's judgements and, again, although
both Tom and I enjoyed immensely Sam's blatant approach he was someone to
keep at a distance.

     I wasn't picking Kats up until six-thirty so I had plenty of time.  As
soon as I got home I went up to my bedroom and thought about the afternoon
with Kats and the results of our little tussle on the carpet.  Two things
happened.  I got a hardon.  I also thought that if I didn't want to have an
explosion in my undies tonight I 'd better do something about it now.  What
if matters got out of hand, or, in hand, whatever the case might be?
Perhaps having a wank might delay any urges I might have later.  So, I
stripped off, as I was going to have a second bath today any way, and had a
leisurely wank watching myself in the mirror.  I noticed I had a most
self-satisfied grin on my face as I held my deflating prick at the end.
Self-satisfaction at what I had just done or, perhaps, contemplating that I
was well-equipped for anything that might occur!  Bighead!  Bighead
somewhere else, too!

     I had a leisurely bath, too, and thought to myself I'd never had two
baths in one day before.  Must be clean, though.  So, I was all dressed up
in my new suit, hair combed, teeth cleaned, shoes polished, and eating the
second of the two sandwiches I'd prepared when Ma and Pa came home just on
six o'clock.  Neither commented on my appearance although Pa did have a
slight smirk on his face which he erased as soon as he caught me looking at
him.  Ma wanted to know how I'd got on at the medical.  I said I was being
exempted and so was Tony who had flat feet.  Pa made some remark that we
were a pair of old crocks and what would the country do if there was
another war.  Ma gave him such a sharp look he said no more.

     I cycled round to the Marcham's and Kats was all ready and waiting.
Luckily, Tony was not in the offing.  Mrs M was full of smiles and said she
hoped we would have a good evening as she'd heard the film was quite
exciting.  We walked down to the town passing no one I knew.  Kats was
asking about the medical as Tony was laughing the night before about the
absurdity of it all.  I could hardly tell her I'd pissed on the orderly's
hand or that Josh Chater had done the same to his coat.  I said I'd met
Josh and she laughed and said her friend Bella said he was great fun but
she had only met him a couple of times and he seemed the life and soul of
the party.

     We arrived just as the adverts before the second feature were
finishing and were directed, without asking, to the back row of the circle.
It was almost deserted up there.  The second feature started - a comedy of
some sorts so we giggled in all the right spots.  Our shoulders touched as
I leaned towards her and I realised that even with the earlier release I
was responding in a most definite way.

     The lights went up before the main feature and quite a few other
couples wended their way up the steps to the haven of the back row.  I
scanned the couples quickly but, again, I didn't recognise anyone other
than a lad who must have left school about five years ago.  He was too
busily engrossed in holding the girl he was with round the waist to notice
any other extraneous bodies.  Then the lights went down and almost
immediately Kats reached over and put her hand just above my knee which had
an even bigger effect on my half hard shaft.  I put my hand on top of hers
and rubbed my palm over the back of her hand.  She turned her hand over and
gripped my fingers and started to rub her thumb up and down mine.  Wow.  I
never knew I had a spot like that on my thumb.  My cock was fully rampant
by now and I had to shuffle a bit in the seat to ease the pressure on it.
I took my hand away slowly and exchanged it for the other one as I then put
my arm round her shoulders.  She leaned against me and gripped my hand
again.  No more rubbing though.  In fact, however much I wriggled, or moved
my arm round her shoulders, or tried to engage my hand in hers, she refused
to cooperate.  Of course, my hardon was continuous but I couldn't get her
to move her hand up my thigh or do anything.  Each time I tried to
extricate my hand to explore even her leg she gripped it tighter.  My left
arm over her shoulder should have given me some leverage on placing my hand
on somewhere soft but the movement of her own shoulders were a signal to
desist.

     With all this I saw little of the main attraction - the main
attraction next to me seemed unwilling to participate in anything - the
main attraction on the screen passed in a haze of cigarette smoke wafting
up and frustrated feelings on my part.  I was glad when the credits rolled
and the National Anthem was played.  I did have to stand up then and I made
pretty sure she knew what effect she'd had on me, in fact she brushed her
hand down the front of my trousers and must have felt the iron rod within!

     Walking home we did hold hands but she was quite determined that she
wasn't going to be manoeuvred into a darkened shop doorway at one point.
As we approached her road she did put her arm round my waist and it wasn't
until we were on her driveway I was allowed any further liberties.  We
stopped and kissed and she forced her tongue into my mouth as I clutched at
her somewhere in the breast region.  She responded by pressing herself
against me and rubbing her body against mine.  It was a good job she was
tall and I was able to hold her tight against me.  Again, she must have
been fully aware of my arousal as she pushed her stomach against me.  I
suppose we kissed for about five minutes or so until she unclamped herself
and whispered she'd better get in or dad would be out to see where she was.
I was breathing mighty deeply by then.  She kissed me lightly again and
said I'd better see her to the door and to mind I wiped my face before I
went home.

     As we got near the front door she squeezed my hand.

     "I've had a lovely time, Jacko, have you?"

     I mumbled that of course I had.

     "Would you like to come to tea on Sunday?"

     I said I would be there.

     She kissed me quickly and then fumbled for her door key.  As she
opened the door the soft light from the hallway illuminated her face.  She
gave me such a lovely smile.

     "Thanks, again."

     As she closed the door I turned and walked away.  Those last few
moments I felt something different.  I was puzzled.  I felt calmer.  My
erection had gone down and I walked home with a lighter step.  In fact, I
hadn't taken my stick with me and I hardly had a limp at all.

     There was a light on in Pa's study when I got home.  I poked my head
round the door as it was slightly ajar.  The usual haze of pipe smoke was
there.

     "All OK?" Pa asked.

     I nodded and grinned and went to bed.

     I needed three, long, slow wanks before I was fully satiated and could
stop thinking about the evening.  Ohhhhhhhhhh!

                              *
     I was in a real daze in the morning.  I couldn't get her smile out of
my mind.  I played Brahms, Haydn, Bach and Beethoven with such
concentration, each piece had a nimbus of pure sound of some sort about it.
When I finished I went through to the kitchen where Ma was baking.  She
said, in French, that my playing was very good now.  I knew it was.  I felt
relaxed and read and couldn't wait until Sunday tea!

     Ma and Pa were going out to a dinner of some sorts that evening so I
was at a loose end.  All my pals were gone, then I remembered there was
concert on in the Cathedral and they always had St John's on duty.  I
'phoned Mr Halloran and he said I should go round to his as I could borrow
a black uniform jacket and trousers as no doubt my old uniform wouldn't fit
me.  He said he was on duty with two of the lady members but I could go
with Pat if I liked as, no doubt, Pat would volunteer his services.  When I
arrived at their house Pat said he would come as well even though it was a
black Protestant place.  I pointed out that Canon Tilson had told me that
it was originally a Benedictine Abbey.  Stolen from us by that arch-fiend
Henry was his response.  I said did it really matter, the building was
there and tonight it would be full of wonderful music.  It was, it was
nothing less than Bach's Mass in B minor.  I sat entranced as the music
rolled around us.  I saw Pat with such a smile on his face at one
point. Credo in Unum Deo, with those vast treading octaves in the bass and
the choir soaring above them.  I wondered what it was like to believe.
Bach was a believer, just like Pat, his father and Mike.  Another puzzle
for me.  Still, as I immersed myself in the glorious music I could only
agree with young Georgie, "Thass auld Bach, he's the best!" as those final
cadences of Dona Nobis Pacem filled the vast space.

     As we waited in the porch of the cathedral until everyone was out,
members of choir came to the exit.  Amongst them were Superintendent
Buchanan and Mrs Buchanan, plus Mr and Mrs Tring, and who should be talking
to them but the portly man, the Town Clerk.  All the men were in black tie
and dinner jackets as were all the other men in the choir.  The Town Clerk
immediately recognised me and stuck out a hand.

     "Hear you're going to that other place," he said, "Can't be too bad if
Newton and Milton went there, though it's probably gone downhill since
then."  He laughed.  "M'son's starting at Balliol week after next.  Reading
Greats like me; what good that'll do him!  Have a good time and don't work
too hard."

     With that he gave me another gripping handshake and as he went off
with the others Mrs Buchanan said that Tom was coming home on a weekend
pass next week..

     As I cycled home later having said my farewells to Pat and his father,
after I'd changed back into my ordinary clothes, I thought how lucky I was.
I had talent.  I was having a great opportunity having been selected to
study at Cambridge.  I had lovely parents.  I had good friends.  Dear, dear
friends.  And now I had met Kats in a different way than being a small kid.

     Ma and Pa were still out when I got home.  I made myself a sandwich
and a mug of cocoa and went to bed.  Two wanks later I fell asleep and had
a most peaceful night.

                         *
     I said what a wonderful experience I'd had in the Cathedral the night
before as I sat down for breakfast and Ma had asked me how had I got on.  I
said I envied people like the Parker brothers who were going to be
professional musicians if they were surrounded by music like that all the
time.  Ma said she expected it was hard work like any other job but she
could see it was probably enjoyable.  When Pa came in from a stroll round
his vegetable garden he just heard the tail end of me telling Ma I had been
invited to tea at the Marcham's that afternoon.  'Feet under the table' was
his muttered comment.  I just wrinkled my nose at him and Ma said she was
putting on a dinner party the next Saturday evening and who would I like to
come to it.  I said our neighbours, the Buchanans and Tom would be home.
As I'd seen Mr and Mrs Tring at the cathedral I put those on the list, too.
Mr Tring had been demobbed while I was in Switzerland and was now back
teaching music at my old school having been in charge of musical
entertainments somewhere hot and dusty as he put it.  All four Marchams and
Roo and his girlfriend from the estate agency.  That was a total of
fourteen, including us.  Could Ma do it?  She said it was a squeeze and as
long as Mr Gale had plenty of chickens off ration it would be OK.  She said
she would get Mrs Pritchard, who came and cleaned the house, to help in the
kitchen.  All would be perfect.  Pa did a grumble about his vastly depleted
cellar but I pointed out there were four bottles of Swiss wine in the
bundle of goodies I'd brought home which was twenty-four glasses for a
start.  He raised his eyebrows and I said I had been educated in 'haute
cuisine et le bon vin' courtesy of Uncle Johann and Aunt Lilian.  He said
if I thought that would a good introduction to college food I had another
think coming!

     Tea at the Marchams was a quiet affair.  Quiet at least in arousal
terms.  Kats kept a discreet distance from me and I didn't get a hardon
especially as I was busy eating.  Roo and the girl from the office were
there too.  She, Audrey Bellingham, was very nice.  Tony had answered the
door when I rang the bell and, as I walked down the hallway, patted me on
the back, "Don't weaken," he whispered.

     I didn't weaken.  All was most sedate.  I regaled them with part of
the story of what went on at my medical.  Roo moaned because he was passed
A1 but had heard nothing further.  Mr Marcham was saying that with everyone
now being demobbed there was a great rush on for housing and the office was
very busy.  He said he was too busy even to get out to Ulvescott to take a
bunch of documents and bring a load back as well.  Tony looked at me and
winked.

     "Jacko and I are at a loose end this week," he said, "We could go over
on Wednesday and come back Friday.  Would that be OK?"

     I expected Kats to object as Wednesday afternoons were her time off
and I thought she might have wanted to hook up with me.  But no, she said
nothing.  Later she said she'd arranged to go riding with Bella who had
also left school and was setting up a riding stable with her mother and
elder sister.  As Bella and she had been riding for years she was probably
going to have a horse of her own, if Daddy would buy her one.  She wasn't
quite as blatant as that but the implication was there.

     I helped Tony clear some of the things off the table and when we got
to the kitchen he was laughing.

     "You know, Jacko, why girls have this thing about riding," he said,
giving a very lascivious cackle.  "It's 'cause they like something big,
strong and made of
  hard flesh between their legs.  That wouldn't beat you, though, eh?"  He
nudged me in the back.  "Get anywhere Friday?"

     I put on a very hurt look.  "I got raped on the back row," I said
slowly, "Yeah, when your sister's got her head down she's just like a back
row forward!"

     He guffawed.  "Liar.  I bet you got nothing.  I know Kats.  She's got
you dangling, hasn't she?"

     I must admit even over tea I kept looking at her.  Yeah.  I was being
dangled.  But who cares!  That conversation couldn't go on as Tony's mum
came through bearing a tray of leftovers.  We were ushered back in and Kats
sat next to me on one of the sofas.  I did get a hardon then and wondered
if I might be a willing steed.  Anyway, I announced that Ma was putting on
a dinner party on Saturday and they were all invited.  It was, I said, a
combined eighteenth birthday and a beginning college party and, no
presents, just themselves.

                              *
     Monday afternoon I had to see Mr Foljambe for a check-up.  I had his
X-rays as well as a set from Switzerland to give him.  He asked me how it
felt.  I could hardly tell him I had nearly undone all his good work while
in the midst of sexual frenzy due to autoeroticism.  I said that most of
the time my leg felt OK but I still felt uneasy about over-doing things.
He said from his knowledge of such things I might have a slight limp for
some time but to use the stick whenever I had a long walk to do or when I
was in one position for a long time.  But, to make sure I exercised in some
way every day.  I thanked him for all he'd done and for the letter to Dr
Phibbs at the medical.

     "Phibbs, Phibbs?" he mused, "I know him well.  Short and tubby.  He's
actually got the makings of a good surgeon if he didn't spend his time
reading the racing pages!"

     He laughed, we shook hands and I went home.

     I exercised my third leg when I got home.  That spasmed and throbbed
in a most pleasant way.  It did it twice more just like that in bed that
night.  My knee remained tranquil.

                         *
     Oh, God!  Tuesday the thirtieth of September.  My eighteenth birthday.
Vital statistics day!  First, presents at breakfast.  There was a card from
Ma and Pa with the promise of driving lessons as soon as I wanted them.
There was a p.s. from Pa pointing out that I was not allowed any form of
mechanical conveyance, other than a bicycle, while in residence as an
undergraduate at Cambridge, so perhaps his money was safe for three years.
There was a cheque for fifty pounds in the card, too, not for driving
lessons.

     There were a number of birthday cards.  One from Flea saying he had
been accepted for the RAF Flying School for January so this would be his
last term at school.  Titty was down for the Military Academy with Bastable
next autumn entry and Antony Milverton had left as he was to appear in a
film.  Flea wrote very clearly and it was a good story.  Antony's older
sister, Audrey, was twenty-two and had been to drama school and was at the
film studios where she was to appear in quite a big part in a romantic
film.  Antony had gone to the studios to see his sister on the set and had
been spotted as ideal for a part in a film about a boy who was mistaken for
royalty.  So, on the strength of that he hadn't come back to school and was
going to try and follow in his sister's footsteps.  In the card from
Lachlan there was a picture of him and Sayed flanking a now five feet five
Flea, all three identical in height and in swimming costumes.  On the back
it said 'Pin Mill House August 1947 taken by George Henry Catchpole,
photographer to the High and Mighty'.

     Surprise, surprise, there was a card from Mike from Rome!  There was a
very chatty letter inside and the news he was at the Gregorian University
and because there were students from different countries his lectures were
in Latin!  He was to be ordained deacon at Easter but he would have to wait
at least three more years for full ordination as he had to finish his
studies, or at least the first part of them.  He wished me well at
Cambridge and hoped to see me sometime.

     Measurements were taken once Pa and Ma went off to work.  I knew I was
six feet two inches and my chest had a pretty good expansion from the
pawings I had endure at the medical.  I found a tape measure of Ma's and
found my waist was exactly thirty-two inches.  Then came the interesting
bit.  Glory be!  I had reached that goal of seven inches.  I think I now
was level with my cousins.  I was a true Thomson in that respect!  Of
course, having got a hardon I couldn't let it go to waste and my first load
of the day was of the usual quantity and shot out a good three to four feet
even with my cock at an angle of about sixty degrees.  I thought of Flea
and Lachs and their arguments about angle of firing and trajectory.  Golly,
that's it!  No need to waste good ammunition.  The Cadets could practise
all they needed with self and friends!

     So, I must assume I'm now fully grown.  I was more than hairy, too,
now.  My legs were covered in a dense tangle of black hairs and my tan was
very good under the mat.  I had a profuse bush above my cock which trailed
up and around my navel.  There was a light dusting of silky hairs over my
stomach and my nipples were ringed by small outgrowths.  My only deficiency
seemed to be any great appearance of hair actually on my chest.  Again,
like my stomach, there were fine hairs noticeable but that was that.  I had
noticed that in the photo Sayed had a thick mat of hair all over his chest
and stomach but he was at least two years older than me and, because he was
so fair, I couldn't discern anything above his swimsuit on Lachs.  Huh,
boys are curious creatures, they like to know how they compare with their
fellow beings and I knew that although I was about nine inches taller than
Lachs there was little difference in size of our vital bit.  Odd that.  One
would imagine the taller you were the bigger the prick.  Not true, even
when going the rounds so long ago, I had noticed that there were shorties
with long 'uns as well as tall lads with not a great deal.  The one thing
in common was the desire and the performance!

                         *
     I met up with Tony at the bus station on Wednesday morning.  He not
only had a haversack but a heavy document case as well.  He did not look
pleased.  Anyway we had a good journey out to Ulvescott and there, at the
gate, were both Bran and Finbar.  We were greeted as always by shaking paws
with Bran.  Finbar watched as we went through the routine and then repeated
Bran's actions exactly.  We both hugged them.  Finbar was growing fast and
tended to want to rush along ahead but came back and walked almost sedately
beside me while Bran was on Tony's right hand side.

     I hadn't seen Mrs Crossley and Miss P since the half-term before going
to Switzerland and they wanted to hear all about it.  Both had visited the
country before the war and both had stayed in Neuchatel.  Then after lunch
we went for a walk with the dogs and saw the small saw-mill that Mrs
Crossley had bought to cut logs to supply herself and neighbours.  Poor old
Hans and all that muscle work he'd put in!  She'd said that with the two
farm hands she had now she had to find indoor jobs for them when the
weather was bad and this was ideal.  There was plenty of wood on the estate
and they were actually felling a couple of overgrown trees that afternoon.

     After dinner that evening Tony said he'd better start checking the
copies of documents and the lists he'd brought with the originals in the
safe.  While he was doing this I wrote several letters to friends and
relations who had sent me birthday cards.  To Flea I said I hoped to see
him and the other two at Christmas and to give my congratulations to Titty
on his promotion to Sergeant - a fact Flea had included in my birthday
letter.  I said my last encounter with a Sergeant wasn't too happy and put
in a bit about the medical - including the bit where the orderly got a wet
hand.  To Lachs I said more or less the same about the medical and my
interaction with the military.  I thanked him for the card and photo and
said the trio looked like the rough, the smooth and the absolutely angelic
and he could take his pick of the descriptions.  Other letters were for
Alun and Rhys telling them to remind Gareth his little cousin was now as
tall as him and that he had just had a birthday and to Johann in
Switzerland telling him to practice "These thick thistles thrive
thoroughly, thinks Thora" and "Hubert helps Heinrich hum heavenly hymns
harmoniously".  I thought he would like the second one, specially designed
to help him not to drop his aitches!  So with thankyous to Grandpa and
Grandma I was getting things in hand.

     Things were definitely in hand when we went to bed.  Both Tony and I
were in particularly horny moods.  We had only been lying side by side
discussing things, but holding each others erect shafts and feeling the
hardness within, when we both erupted within a couple of minutes.  Tony
asked whether I thought what we had just produced should be called 'Creme
Passionelle'.  I laughed and said perhaps we should publish the recipe and
anyway how long had he been making jokes in French?  After that we were
tracing random patterns idly on each other's chests and thinking up the
major ingredients, one or more randy boys, strong right arms, good sense of
rhythm and made in just a few more than two shakes, were just some of the
suggestions.  We were still talking and giggling when Tony said he wanted
me to fuck him.  He clasped me round the shoulders and said he needed me to
fuck him slowly but hard.

     He was all prepared and by that time I was hard again.  I had
confessed to him during our chitchat that I had thought I'd done some
injury to my knee after one of my convulsive wanks.  I stroked his back as
I said it was all his sister's fault as she had got me all razzed up.  His
reply was to the effect that he would have reduced my tensions just as he
was intending to do this evening.  Actually, he was most considerate in
that he said although he wanted to be fucked face to face if I couldn't
kneel then we could try some other way but he wanted to look at me.

     He must have wanted my cock very badly as I pushed almost straight
into him.  I then started up a slow but relentless thrust and release, my
cock embedded as far as possible in him on each inward stroke.  My knee
bent and braced as I moved and all was well.  I quickened up as I felt the
spunk begin to rise and my last half-dozen thrusts were very powerful
indeed.  He had a look of extreme rapture on his face and as I shot my load
in him he wanked himself quickly and shot his second load between us.

     I flopped on top of him and ground myself into him and we played this
very sensuous game until I fired a third volley somewhere deep within him.
We rolled apart and this time I gripped his cock and wanked him furiously
with him attempting to stop me by grasping my hand.  I was either stronger
than him or he was only half-hearted about it because I pulled back hard on
each downstroke and his third cannonade sprayed both of us liberally.  Two
spunk-filled eighteen-year-olds were now emptied of all their creme!  I
really slept the sleep of the just-after that night!

     I played the piano quite a bit in the morning and wrote a couple more
letters while Tony continued checking off things.  After lunch the ladies
said they were going to Mrs Fry's to play Bridge with her and her husband.
Tony said he hadn't got much more checking to do but he would finish that
and I said I would take the dogs for a walk, first of all to the village to
get stamps and post my letters, and then meander down the lane and along
the bridle way.

     I had just posted my letters when it started to drizzle and not
wanting to slip on any mud I apologised - daft me - to the dogs and led
them home.  I suppose I'd been out for just over half an hour as the lady
in the Post Office had wanted to hear all about my accident - as it were
from the horse's mouth - and what I had been doing in foreign parts.
  I didn't enlighten her that more than once one of the foreign parts had
been in me, but I did say that I had had a most enjoyable time.  I arrived
back just as the rain started in earnest.  As I turned the corner of the
house to go to the kitchen door I noticed a parked motor-bike.  I wondered
whose and then remembered Josh had said his brother Jim now had one.

     I was curious because when I went through into the hall and looked in
the study neither were there.  Being a crafty sod I took the back stairs up
to the bedroom floor.  These came out near the Horsebox and I noticed that
door was ajar.  I crept in, just like the cat in the crypt - but I did not
crap, but crept through the slightly open door into the bathroom.  I
slipped off my shoes and walked silently to the half-open door into Piers'
room, where Tony and I had indulged and slept the night before, as there
were unmistakable noises emanating from there.

     I stood transfixed and gazed at the sight.  Both figures on the bed
were in the nude.  Tony was on his back, eyes tightly shut, mouth gaping,
while Big Jim was fucking him steadily with a prick which looked twice as
thick as mine.  Big Jim's balls were slapping down on each powerful down
thrust and Tony gave more than a little grunt each time Jim reached rock
bottom .  Rock bottom?  Big Jim's buttocks were like marble.  Very heavily
muscled and he was using them to great effect.  Suddenly he collapsed over
Tony with a tremendous exhalation of breath and, given the number of
tremors of those great globes of muscle, he must have shot squirt after
squirt of cum through that thick tube of flesh.

     I was still standing there as Jim withdrew.  I could see why he was
called Big.  His back was muscled and he had broad shoulders and as he
stood back off the bed I could see a side view of his still erect prick.  I
don't think it was quite as long as mine but it was certainly thick.  Also
he wasn't quite as tall as me, but what he had was all body.  All in all he
deserved his soubriquet.

     I slipped back stealthily through the bathroom, gathering up my shoes,
and went back down the servants' stairs and sat at the piano in the drawing
room.  Amongst the sheet music in the piano stool I had discovered the
music of Four Indian Love Lyrics by Amy Woodforde- Finden.  I played 'Pale
Hands I Loved beside the Shalimar' just to let Tony know I was home.  Sure
enough, soon afterwards two sets of footsteps entered the room.  I turned
as I finished playing the piece for the third time.  Both had silly grins
on their faces.  Tony came over and said if I played it again he would sing
it.  Being just fucked by a six foot muscled twenty-two year old, with a
dick like a pint milk bottle, must do wonders for the voice as Tony sounded
superb.  He sang it with such commitment I still wondered why he didn't,
perhaps, become a professional singer.  Big Jim clapped when he finished.
I thought of those last two lines 'I would have rather felt you round my
throat, crushing out life than waving me farewell!'.

     I was then introduced.  Jim said he remembered me from school.  I
didn't let on that I was the kid who had caught him and Whacker in the
bogs.  I wondered if he remembered that incident?

     He said he was spending a fortnight's placement with his uncle seeing
how a country practice worked.  I said I thought vets were people who had
their arms permanently up the inside of cows - a description I had got from
Rhys, of course, when we'd seen a whole herd of them down in Suffolk.  He
laughed and said that was something they often had to do.  I didn't go on
to say, 'and also have their cocks up my friend's arse where mine had been
the night before'.  No wonder Tony volunteered his services to come to
Ulvescott.  He probably knew Big Jim would be here.  And, that long summer
he was here, too.  I expect Jim had ploughed a lonely, but very willing,
furrow then as well.  Why was I getting rather uptight?  What Tony did was
his business.  When we had been here with Roo and Matt we had fucked,
sucked and wanked each other with no constraints.  But why couldn't he have
told me he was going to have this...., this what?  Tryst!  Oh!  fuck him!
But I did last night and he had been comprehensively fucked this afternoon,
too.  Right!  I won't say anything, but if you complain you have a headache
tonight, or your arsehole is sore, too bad, Jacko is going have his evil
way.  Much more to the point, your evil way!!!

     I wasn't really angry.  I was amused.  I suppose the best word to
describe Tony was 'slut'.  I knew he'd had plenty of experience.  But so
had I, so I couldn't be censorious, was I 'sluttish' as well?  With that,
as I was still sitting at the piano, I played a Barcarolle, which I had
assumed was a gondolier's song which he sang when a couple were fucking
under the awning on his boat.  At least, I assumed that, as the wireless
announcer had said it was a love song directed at courting couples being
ferried across the Grand Canal.  As I played I imagined Tony tonight with
his Grand Canal being navigated with deep strokes of a lusty gondolier's
oar!

     But first, I didn't know until I finished playing that Mrs C was
putting on a dinner tonight for us and that Mr and Mrs Fry and Jim were
invited as well.  Also, that tempting aroma I had noted at lunchtime, and
even more this afternoon, was another venison casserole.  The three of us
then went down to the cellar to chose the wine, or wines, as Tony insisted.
Two clarets and a sauternes.

     Dinner was superb.  The two ladies from the village served us and I
had plenty to eat.  Mr Fry was tall and angular but was very funny.  He
told us all sorts of tales about experiences he'd had being a vet and about
his time during the war looking after mules in India where they were still
used as beasts of burden, especially in the mountainous areas.  I knew who
was going to be beast-like tonight and who was going to bear a burden!

     Tony had had five glasses of wine to my three so was a bit, nay, more
than a bit, light- headed when I rolled him onto the bed and stripped him.
I had already taken off my things while he was farting around in the
bathroom humming tunelessly to himself.  He wasn't unwilling to be stripped
and I made sure I tickled him as well so he was giggling and squirming with
his legs up round my waist as I positioned my seven inches of
not-as-thick-as- Big-Jim's cock against his rosebud.  I pushed and I was in
full length.  Wow!  Well stretched.  I didn't let up and fucked him as hard
as I could.  Tony was actually whimpering as I shot my load.  I looked down
at him and he was crying.  I stopped.  He looked really contrite.

     "Oh, Jacko," he said, "I've let you down!"  He burst fully into tears.
"I never told you.  Jim and I fucked this afternoon and I should have told
you."

     I leaned right over him and put my arms round his shoulders.  I could
tell he was very upset.  What could I do but tell him the truth?

     "I know," I said, as softly as I could, stroking his back at the same
time.  "I watched you.  I should have said tonight before this that I'd
seen you.  I've let you down, too."  But, I couldn't resist it.  "He's big
isn't he?"

     Poor Tony.  He snuffled in my ear.  "You saw us.  Why didn't you say?"
He shook his head.  "I have to tell you.  He fucked me every day we were
here last year and I couldn't have it enough."  He moved his head against
mine.  "It's the same with us.  I want that great big prick of yours in me
as much as possible......"  He paused.  "....I think of you and Jim every
night and that immense joy you both give me." I felt his face muscles
twitch against me.  "I think of Johann as well, now."  He put his arms
round me as well.  "I want to find someone like you three all rolled into
one.  I would truly be in love then!"

     We rocked together arms round each other and I slowly and quietly
fucked him again.  My climax was even more tremendous than before.

     As we lay entwined, both recovering, as he had coated us with his own
Creme Passionelle to match my own somewhere within, he whispered "I'm
forgiven, aren't I?  And it was really wonderful just now".

     I hugged him tight.  It was his body to share with whomsoever he
wished.  But to be fucked by two such great friends of his in one day and
feeling it was more than just a boyish experiment, as I think our
experiences with Roo and Matt here were so long ago, was something for him
to savour and cherish.

     "Tony," I said softly, "I am a friend and I wish you the best.  You'll
find someone one day to love and be loved back in the same way.  Don't get
hurt, though.  Would Jim be that person?"

     Tony shook his head.  "No," he said, "We did discuss it but both of us
know we're not made to be together.  We like each other and Jim's a very
good friend and, I expect, we'll get together at times."  He squeezed my
back.  "Many times, I hope, just like us.  He's big but he's very gentle."

                              *
     We took the dogs for a walk on Friday morning and I thought Finbar
looked quite downcast, as if a dog could, when we walked to the gates to
catch the bus back to Kerslake in the afternoon.  If Tony had a heavy
portfolio of documents to lug home I had four bottles of very choice wine
for the dinner party.

     In bed that night I thought about watching Tony and Big Jim and then
my later entry and realised that Tony would probably have to search a good
deal before he found his ideal person.  Our joint encounters were more than
just pleasant.  There was a mutual respect between us.  It was a kind of
love, I suppose, but not one of commitment.  I grinned to myself as the
first of my two portions of Creme Passionelle pooled, creamy and frothy, on
my chest and stomach.  I tasted it.  Yes, there wasn't much wrong with my
recipe!

                              *
     The dinner party was a great success.  How Ma prepared for fourteen
was quite incredible.  Mrs Pritchard and she were in the kitchen all
morning and what a spread they prepared.  We had soup, roast capons with
roast potatoes, carrots, cauliflower and tender cabbage done with onion.
All this followed by apple and blackberry crumble with custard.  The eight
bottles of wine went and Pa come up with a bottle of port when we settled
down to chat afterwards.  Tony and I were given everyone's best wishes and
I did get cornered in the hall at one point and was given a great kiss and
cuddle by Kats who was quite giggly after the wine she'd consumed.

                         *
               Monday 6th October 1947 - Cambridge

     I had been on edge all day Sunday.  I had packed and re-packed several
times.  I had my clothes.  I decided against taking my running gear.  I
couldn't risk doing anything to my knee and I certainly couldn't pack any
rugger kit other than an old shirt and shorts.  I had my big French and
German dictionaries as well as an English one.  Van had kindly given me
half a dozen each of French and German classics which he said he was sure I
would have to read.  I'd had a look a couple and saw meticulous notes he
must have made when he was an undergraduate.  Then there were my precious
photos and the drawing Mike had done of me.  The head and shoulders one -
the other more revealing one was still tucked away in my secret hidey-hole.
Piers and Miles were going with me and the one of the three lads at Pin
Mill House.  So I was rather lightly burdened.

     Pa said the car had been serviced by Sean who had said it was in very
good condition and he hoped Tony wasn't going to overload it.  We set off
and picked up Tony, who also had surprisingly little luggage, just after
nine o'clock.  Fifty miles or so to Cambridge.  Pa was a careful driver and
we certainly didn't hurry and drove up King's Parade around eleven o'clock
and deposited Tony with his clobber at the Porter's Lodge with strict
instructions to be at Clare by half past twelve to go to lunch.

     Pa drove down the narrow road and parked outside Clare.  I said I
would go and announce my arrival and, because my leg was a bit stiff
through sitting hunched up I took my stick and made my way up the path to
the doorway and entered the Porter's Lodge.

     Behind the desk was a young man, black jacket, waistcoat and tie, with
a black bowler hat on the desk in front of him.  On my entry he looked up.
I thought to myself that he looked familiar.  I must have seen him before.
Of course!

     "Willy Roberts!" I said, "Fancy seeing you here!"

     Of course.  It was the young driver who had ferried Pa and Mike's dad
at the firing range.  Yes.  I remembered, he'd said something about working
at a college when he got demobbed from the Army.

     "Mr Thomson, Sir," he said, very formally, "Welcome to Clare."  His
face then creased in a great smile and he hurried round the desk and shook
my hand very vigorously.  "I guessed it was you when Doctor Blake said your
name and you were coming up early.  I knew it when he said Kerslake."  He
was grinning, then became very serious.  "Doctor Blake said you'd had an
accident and we were to make sure your rooms were convenient.  I hope not
too serious?"

     I waved the stick at him.  "My left knee.  I broke the kneecap falling
off my bike.  I have to be careful, though."

     He smiled.  "I've taken it on myself to give you a set on the Ground
Floor.  Mr Mason isn't here today.  Sorry, he's the Head Porter and he's
suffering from a surfeit of the Chateau Lafite at the moment."

     I raised my eyebrows.  Chateau Lafite.  I'd had some from a bottle
which Uncle Johann had produced one evening.

     He explained, "It was the Head Porters' dinner last night.  They all
get together before the year starts and it gets rather bibulous and as it
was Trinity's turn to host ....  Well I hear the wine flowed freely.
Anyway, we'd better get your stuff in."

     He picked up the bowler hat and clapped it on his head as he went to
the door.  "Jem!  Sam!" he called and two young lads came round the corner
and stood side by side in front of him.  They were both dressed as Willy
was in black suits, but both had short black aprons on as well.  Willy
turned to me.  "Have you come by taxi or car?"

     I explained that my father was waiting.

     "Colonel Thomson?"

     I nodded.  He signalled to the boys - both aged about sixteen or so -
and off they went.  We went back into the lodge.

     "As long as they go to the right car," I said, "There was an old Rolls
Royce backing down the road and nearly hit us."

     "Oh," said Willy, "The Abominable Arseholes.  I'd forgotten he was
coming back today, too."  He shook his head.  "Got ploughed by his tutor
last term so he's back for a viva tomorrow.  Fool watered his tutor's oak
and got caught."

     What the hell was he talking about.  That name?  Had I heard it
correctly?  Willy smiled.  I must have looked puzzled.  Viva I knew was an
oral exam and then it dawned.  I had been told all rooms at Cambridge had
two doors and if the outer one was closed you had 'sported your oak' and
did not want to be disturbed.  But 'watered'?

     "The Honourable Charles Lascelles, known to all and sundry as AA,
short for Abominable you know what!"  He smile broadened.  "He was failed
last term because he was rather inebriated at the May Ball and
unfortunately Mr Phelips was looking through his keyhole and was not
pleased."  He almost sniggered.  "He complained to the Dean and asked what
should be done and the Dean, being reasonable, said a little dilute Jeyes
Fluid always worked wonders on doors and stairways, but Mr Phelips was
rather angry and demanded he should be rusticated, sent down permanently.
The Dean said he would arrange for a viva on his return this term and that
was that."

     Obviously Willy approved of the Dean.  At that moment a thin young man
with surprisingly broad shoulders, appeared at the door, also leaning on a
stick, and peered in.

     "Hi there, Willy, you old rascal, how're the gee-gees?  I've had a
bloody awful summer.  Blown all my allowance and the Pater says I can
starve this term if they let me back."

     He had a very aristocratic voice.  Then he noticed me, also with a
stick.

     "Snap!" he said raising his.  I did the same.  "Charley Lascelles' the
name!"

     He stuck out a hand and I shook it.

     "Jacko Thomson," I said, "I'm a new boy!"

     He laughed.  "Pleased to meet you!  I've been here one year and I
might not be here much longer if I say the wrong things tomorrow, eh
Willy?"  This last directed at Willy.

     I didn't enquire further but as he walked to the desk to say something
to Willy, who had retreated behind it and removed his bowler hat, I noticed
his right foot was encased in a very heavy boot and turned inwards.  It
looked more than a broken kneecap like my injury.

     "Pater's out there chinwagging to some boffin chap he knows from the
Ministry.  Be there hours.  Be a good chap and see if those lads can get my
baggage off the old motor."

     Willy was not to be moved.  "Jem and Sam are moving Mr Thomson's
belongings and I will show Mr Thomson to his set.  You may accompany us as
Mr Thomson will be having the set opposite you and I am sure you will wish
to examine the repairs which your father authorised us to complete on your
behalf."

     Charley, AA, or whatever, let out an anguished moan.

     "Oh, shit!" he said vehemently, "I'd completely forgotten about that.
Christ!  The old boy'll go bananas when he gets the bill!  Can't you get
the Bursar to delay sending it?  Say I'll sign the pledge or something!"

     At that moment who should appear but Pa and a military-looking
gentleman with a most luxuriant moustache.  Charley visibly wilted and
mouthed something silently at Willy.

     Willy stood to attention behind the desk.  The military gentleman came
straight up to me.

     "Met your father out there.  Didn't know you were coming up.  Pleased
to meet you.  I'm Harford for what it's worth."  He also stuck out a hand I
shook it.  I replied in kind.  He nodded and went on. "You've met that
scoundrel there, my youngest.  Cost me more than the other three put
together!  Wretched boy!"  He turned to Pa, after looking me up and down.
"Can see he's yours, Thomson.  I keep telling Felicity this one doesn't
look a bit like me.  She just says he's a throwback."  He turned to Willy.
"Mr Roberts, please to tell the Blue Boar it'll be five for luncheon, one
o'clock sharp and none of that cottage pie this time."

     "Yes, my Lord," said Willy and disappeared into some cubby-hole and I
heard him telephoning.

     Charley was turned on again by this father.  "Go and see those boys
aren't scratching the Rolls and tell Michaeljohn not to have more than two
pints for lunch."  He tossed what looked like a half-crown to him.  "Let's
check on your rooms and we'll be off.  Brisk walk'll do you good."  He then
saw I also had a walking stick.  "You up to it, young Thomson?"

     I nodded.  If poor Charley had to walk briskly I would too.

     Willy had finished telephoning and grabbed his bowler hat and led the
way from the Porter's Lodge.  I was rather impressed when he unlocked the
first, then the second door, to my rooms.  I had a study room, a small
bedroom and a partitioned off lav and washbasin.  The furniture was ancient
but serviceable.  A table, two chairs and an easy chair in the study.  A
bed, chest of drawers and not much else in the bedroom.  It all smelt a bit
musty.  My suitcase and haversack were on the floor of the study.  Willy
handed me the keys and I had to sign a receipt.

     Charley had returned by then and we paraded to the set opposite mine.
His furniture was even more decrepit than mine.  There was more of it and
before I could comment he whispered "Family heirlooms".  I wouldn't have
given them houseroom.  His father surveyed the room, grunted and remarked
that it looked just the same when he had it.

     Neither Pa nor I had said much to each other.  He did indicate we were
meeting Tony at the top of the lane by Gonville and then walking along to
the Blue Boar.  He and Lord Harford walked on while Charley and I followed.

     "Don't worry," he said laughing, "The old boy always treats me like
that.  Got to butter him up, though, 'cause I'm really skint.  You keep him
happy and I'll make it up to you, eh?"

     We met Tony who was waiting.  He and Lord Harford got on well as the
old boy was a Trollope fan.  Luncheon was more than adequate.  I had
steamed fish in a white sauce with potatoes and carrots julienne.  It was
good.  I noticed Tony and Charley had the cottage pie.  Lord Harford
remarked that the topping covered a multitude of sins and the aged waiter
sniffed and managed to slop the wine he was pouring.  I wondered who was
paying.  Lord Harford signed a chit at the end and said to me that if I won
wars like my father I would be an asset.  He also said, in a loud voice,
that he relied on me to keep an eye on the rapscallion for him.  Me?
Charley was well over a year older!  We walked back, slowly, to the
college.  Tony kept with us as he said he'd show us his rooms later but
he'd been told to get to Ede's to kit himself out with gown and square.
Charley said I'd better do the same and he'd come and supervise and we'd
better get to the tailors for DJ's and other essential clothing and kit.

     Tony and I said cheerio to Pa who, I had found out, was a great friend
of Lord Harford who was chairman of one of the Ministry of Defence
committees.  He drove off, most sedately.  I saw Lord Harford, on bidding
his youngest farewell before getting into the ancient Rolls beside an
equally ancient driver, pass over several crisp white five pound notes.
There was much wagging of fingers and Charley looked sufficiently cowed to
be rewarded with at least two more notes.  His Lordship then scribbled
something on a couple of visiting cards and waved goodbye and they
disappeared in rather a cloud of exhaust fumes.

     Charley was smiling as he hobbled up to us and handed us each one of
the visiting cards.

     "The pair of you sweetened the old boy up, thanks!" he said most
cheerfully.  "One each for you.  If you want a meal any time at the Boar
just wave this at old Bert, he'll see you're OK."

     We then wandered, quite replete, up to Kings and saw Tony's rooms on
the first floor to the right of the dining hall.  Then we walked down to
the bridge over the Cam.  Charley was in rather an ebullient mood.  The old
boy, as he kept referring to his father, had come up trumps and he had
money in his pocket, so he was flush.  I said what did I have to do to keep
an eye on him.  He grinned and said I'd better keep his money so he didn't
waste it on the gee- gees.  He said he'd spent quite a bit of the summer at
Newmarket where a friend of his father had a stud and he'd bet a lot and
had managed to lose all.  He wanted to know why I had a stick and I said it
was a bike accident.  His was much more serious.  He'd come off a horse
while jumping a fence when he was twelve and he'd got caught and was
suspended by his ankle for several hours until someone came looking for
him.  His broken ankle hadn't been set properly and he was left with a
badly deformed foot.  Still, he loved horses and wanted to run a stud when
he was older.  Up till then he was at sodding Cambridge and he'd better do
well.

     We found out that because he couldn't do any other games he did rowing
and had been quite good at his Public School.  This explained his upper
torso development.  He said he rowed in the College boat so was considered
thick.  I got the impression he acted thick but wasn't.  I said I had run a
lot and played rugger before my accident and he suggested that I could do
some training on the weights in the boathouse.  Tony said he'd put his name
down for rugger at Kings and this caused much merriment from Charley who
said the Kings rugger team were all thugs and drunkards.  I wondered about
rowers, or 'boaties' as he called them, as his trouble with his tutor had
been caused by a bit too much to drink!

     By this time we had reached the bridge and stood looking down at he
flowing water.  There was one solitary punt being propelled languidly
further along.  Charley said it was a very popular pastime in the summer to
take a punt up to Grantchester and picnic.  He nudged Tony in the ribs.

     "Very popular, punting, you know," he said, "Especially if you can get
someone's sister to join you."  He stood up straight and looked around.  We
were the only ones anywhere around.  "There was an old Bishop of
Buckingham,"
      he began, and nudged Tony again,
           "Who stood on the bridge at Rockingham,"
      He looked at me and winked.
            "Watchin' the stunts of the cunts in the punts,
             And the tricks of the pricks,
            Who were fuckin' 'em!"

     Oh!  I shall have to remember that one!

     That over we went back out of the college along King's Parade to Edes.
Here Charley took over and Tony and I were supplied with the correct
undergraduate gowns and our squares or mortar-boards, stiff collars and
white ties and were measured for dinner jackets and trousers.  We found we
had a special allowance of clothing coupons so all was well.  All went in a
ledger and no one mentioned payment!

     Tony said he was going to unpack and had been promised some supper
from the buttery so we would probably meet up next day.  I said I had an
appointment with Dr Blake at ten and Charley grimaced and said he had his
viva at Corpus Christi at the same time.

     Willy was still on duty when we arrived back at the college.  He
handed me a sheaf of papers, mainly rules and regulations but also lecture
lists.  I scanned the first page and, yes, Pa was correct, no mechanical
conveyances allowed except bicycles.  I then saw that no cats, dogs or like
animals were allowed in college.

     "What about Peter," I said to Willy, who was busy with paperwork
behind his desk, "Dr Blake's got a dog."

     Willy shook his head.  "No, Dr Blake has a canary," he said
ponderously, "Birds is allowed." He grinned.  "The Dean said Peter sang
sweetly so was a canary."

     So that was that.  On further questioning I found Willy had been given
early demob in January through 'College connections' as there were great
problems with the bad weather and illness.  His father was Head Porter at
another college and Jem, really James, was a cousin and being groomed for a
porter's job in the future.  He advised that I should have Jem as my scout,
or gyp.  Rather like a fag in a Public School.  He would come each day to
clear up any mess in my room and keep it tidy.  Willy said for an extra
shilling a week he could be my bedder.  I found out there was a great tribe
of ladies who came round each day to make beds but Jem could do that for me
instead.  In fact, his mother would have been my bedder.  I was glad I had
Willy as my mentor I would have been lost otherwise.  He also told me as
well as the usual influx of undergraduates just leaving school there were a
large number of older men either coming back to complete their degrees, as
they had been called up while still at college, or were starting degrees as
part of government schemes.  This meant the college was overfull.

     I was directed to the buttery for supper where I and about six others
were issued with bread, cheese and slabs of cake.  I found these others,
three youngsters like me and three older ones, were just as bemused as me.
Still, I suppose all would be revealed.

     I spent the evening unpacking my meagre belongings.  Luckily Pa had
suggested I brought my wireless and I had an adaptor which went into the
light fitting for the current and I had just fixed it when Charley came
knocking.  I had remembered and left my outer door ajar.  I found he was
doing Geography as his degree subject with something called Land Economy.
He said it was useful for people with estates and as his Pater had a few
thousand acres tucked away he might come in for a bit.  He was very anxious
about the viva the next day and was going to be questioned on Jurassic
geology or something like that.  I said I'd never heard of it and he said
he'd read quite a bit over the summer so he hoped he could remember
something.

     So, my first night in Cambridge.  A rather hard and narrow bed.  Two
most satisfying wanks before sleeping and a rap on the door at seven thirty
by an ever vigilant Willy.  Breakfast in the dining hall was a perfunctory
affair.  Luckily Sam recognised me - the sixpence tip yesterday must have
stuck in his mind - and I was given an extra helping of gooey reconstituted
egg on toast to fill an ever-hungry lad.  I mooched around, exploring the
very beautiful chapel was one thing, and then, precisely at ten, knocked on
Dr Blake's door.

     For two hours I was bombarded with questions in French and German.  I
was corrected on small errors and given lengthy reasons why some of my
German constructions were inadequate.  He was most interested in, and
rather amused by, my description of the visit to Johann's grandfather.  I
mentioned the Manet picture and he immediately said he was a friend of
Emile Zola and then pointed to one of the many small paintings and drawings
on the walls of his study, a small landscape, and said that was done by
Manet's teacher, Thomas Couture.  After he had cross-questioned me further
about my stay in Switzerland, rather cheekily, I asked if he'd had a good
summer.  He said he had, he'd stayed with his sister in Suffolk and had
done a tour of the wool churches, built by the very rich wool merchants in
the fourteenth century, with magnificent windows and often 'un toit de
marteau-faisceau'.  He smiled as he said it and translated before I could
ask - 'a hammer-beam roof'.

     Precisely on twelve he stopped.  I was sweating.  He'd really given my
poor brain a grilling.

     "Well, my lad," he said, in English.  I had to mentally readjust to
hearing my native language again.  "You have the makings of a fine linguist
and I won't tell you that again.  What we've got to find out is whether you
can study in the languages.  I think you can.  At least you know the plots
of all those Simenon books you've read even if you haven't got to grips
with the nineteenth century literature yet.  I have a proposition to make."
I wondered what was coming next.  I knew I had done reasonably well.  He
had stretched my vocabulary in both languages to its limits and even
extended it.

     He then explained that the college was taking in a substantial number
of men just demobbed.  Several of these were either finishing degrees
already started before the war, as Willy had said, or were taking up
offered places.  He thought my French was good enough to carry on
conversations with three of that group and to discuss lectures we had
attended.  In any case I would be visiting a Mrs O'Hagen, a French lady,
married to one of the staff at another college, for my own oral development
and a Frau Metzner for German.  But, if I was willing to act as a mentor,
he thought it would help my own studies and the college would also give me
a little extra on my stipend for the Exhibition.  I agreed.  He then said
he would be my tutor and the two lads who had been interviewed with me
would also be his tutees as well.  So, all was settled.  He gave me a
lecture list, marked with the sections of the syllabus he wanted me and the
others to follow.  He said one piece of advice was never get in an argument
with a philosopher.  With that he grinned and said I should go to a few
philosophy lectures, though, as it was useful to find out how other
people's minds work.  It was exactly twelve fifteen then and there was a
knock on the door.  It was Sam from the buttery with two plates of cold
meat, pickles, hunks of bread and a bottle of beer apiece.  So, this was my
first experience of a tutorial, plus a luncheon in college!  Good, solid
English food!

     Well, the rest of the term when so quickly it just felt as if it
flashed by.  The first few days were so hectic, sherry with the Dean, again
with the Chaplain, Freshers meetings, clubs to join.  I actually signed up
for the Boat Club but explained I only wanted to use the equipment in the
boathouse because of my knee.  As there were several ex-servicemen with
injuries this was not a problem and Charley acted as my sponsor.  Charley
passed his viva and was reinstated.  He gave me his money to look after and
I doled it out weekly.  I think he was much chastened by his experience and
the threats of his father.

     Tony was in the thick of things and seemed to have been assimilated
into the rugger- hearties fraternity.  We met up almost daily for chats and
he, like me, seemed to be working steadily.  At the beginning of the second
week I had a note in the mail.  'Mr Ludovic Wilkinson requests the pleasure
of Mr Jacques Thomson to tea'.  It was Lachs and Flea's old schoolmate
Wilkie!  He was at Pembroke College reading Anglo-Saxon.  Actually, he
became a very firm friend and was a very steady influence when I got
uptight about anything.  He and Tony got on well as Tony had opted for a
section on Old English in his English Tripos.

     Willy Roberts was a mine of information and a great help.  I learned
very early on, from hearing the experiences of others, that you never got
on the wrong side of a Porter if you wanted to survive!  In the hearing of
others I always addressed Willy as Mr Roberts.  Anyone who took liberties,
even Charley at times, was ignored or, perhaps, was left off a vital list,
or mail was late, or found themselves on some don's breakfast list
especially when the don was scratchy or didn't like the chap's tutor.

     Young Jem, my scout and bedder, was a treasure.  Each morning he was
there at seven, pot of tea ready and waiting.  On cold mornings my fire
would be laid and lit.  He would then sit on the end of my bed and relay
the latest scandalous gossip which his cousin, Willy, had threatened him
with castration if he divulged it.  I found out which undergraduates had
other undergraduates (male of course) to stay the night, which of the dons
had interesting books in their studies, Charley's latest escapade, and so
on.  Charley and I were his favourites.  Most mornings there would be a
frantic cry of 'Jem!' as Charley needed help in putting on his boot and
calliper.  Jem was very upset one morning as Charley had collapsed
drunkenly on the floor of his room where he'd slept all night with vomit
and other bodily fluids in evidence.  I helped him clean him up and
promised to keep an eye on him when I knew he was carousing.  I think Willy
must have told him something about Mike and me and had obviously shown him
the drawing Mike did of him as he asked me one morning if I minded if Sam
came and helped him clean my room on afternoons when I was at lectures or
tutorials.  I said of course he could but I wanted my sheets changed
regularly.  He did have the grace to blush and I gave him an extra shilling
that week and told him to treat Sam to a couple of buns from Fitzbillies to
keep his strength up.  The blush was even deeper.

     I survived my first term very well.  Dr Blake was an excellent tutor.
He was a specialist in medieval French and we started off by delving back
into French literature and poetry of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries.  I found it all fascinating and my two co- tutees, Donald MacFee
and Francis Thornley, were very pleasant and bright and we sparked each
other off.  I think Dr Blake had a soft spot for the three of us as we
often had a 'cold collation', if our tutorial went over twelve noon,
delivered by Sam from the buttery.  He always got teased in some way and
usually had to take the 'canary' out into the Fellows Garden to pee behind
a tree.  I had relayed the fact that giving the 'canary' a charcoal biscuit
or two every day - something Jim Chater had told me after I'd related the
way I'd been accepted at Cambridge - would probably help with its digestive
processes.  Anyway, Peter didn't fart so much after that!

     My little group were very pleasant.  Two had been in the Air Force and
the other had been captured by the Germans, escaped and joined up with the
French Resistance.  His French was excellent, better than mine, very
colloquial at times, and he helped the rest of us a great deal.  Mrs
O'Hagen was an elderly Parisian lady and we read through all the set books
together and she was great company, too.  Frau Metzner was from the
German-Polish border and I learned a lot of Middle European history from
her.  So, all in all, when the eight week term was over, I was ready for
the Christmas vacation.

To be Continued:....