Mystery and Mayhem and St Marks

By Joel Vincent

Published on Mar 18, 2009

Gay

Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

A Sequel

by

Joel

Seq 6:

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 Nathanial Tempest Adam's boyfriend: a church historian Raphael Pack An Aussie blond bombshell Chief Inspector Bradley Wolstenhome (Brad) A policeman with a taste for leather Inspector Dudley Woolpit (Dude) A policeman with the Met who likes leather Sergeant Carl Bachman (Carlo/Batman) A policeman who also likes leather Gwilym ap Rees First Year Organ Scholar Fiona McKenzie A Mathematical undergraduate with presence Dina Patel A second Mathematical undergraduate with prescience Jak Thomson A computer whizz Max Cartwright Another computer whizz and Jak's partner Dr Crispin Palfrey An erudite archaeologist Dr Jenny Masterton A second informed archaeologist Jonty, Danny, Terry, etc. Habitues of the Club 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]

Christmas 2003

Thursday 25th December

The rest of Christmas Day passed quite conventionally. The sleepers above were awake and ready for breakfast well on time. Dad was in a particularly good mood - even more than usual, Toad had got over any sulks and he and Raph sat together grinning and nudging each other all through breakfast. Either something had happened, or something was planned to happen. Tris and I sat either side of Gran, after helping Mum to serve everyone and she sat watching that everyone was well-supplied with extra toast or coffee. Gran wanted to know what we had been doing. We weren't like schoolboys when questioned grunting monosyllabically but told her various bits about our lives in Cambridge and London. Only snippets, excluding such things as Toad's appearance with Zack at the Club, or Tris's being importuned by a rent-boy in the restaurant at the British Museum in Bloomsbury. Tris had assured me he hadn't taken up the offer as what he got from me was free and probably marginally better. After threatening to withhold and turning my back on him I'd relented as his fingers stroked some of my vital erogenous zones with such expertise and I had to reciprocate. When I got out of bed to go to the lav, after an hour or so of rather intense sexual activity, I ostentatiously took his wallet out of his jacket pocket and extracted a twenty-pound note. 'On account' I said.

Quite conventionally we adjourned to the sitting-room for more chat and Dad disappeared to phone Aunt Sophie. After quarter of an hour I sidled out to hear the end of a conversation about the baroque orchestra. He stopped suddenly and said "Do you want to talk to your Aunt?" I nodded and he said something about 'call you later' and handed the phone to me. The usual Christmas pleasantries followed and I asked if Adam was around. She laughed.

"Poor soul," she said, "He's missing his brother and he's moping about something."

I heard a 'Mum!' in the background so guessed he hadn't 'fessed up to having a steady. Nate wasn't at the wedding as he'd gone to a conference in Durham or somewhere to talk about his research, not the pictures in the cellar as this conference was, according to Adam, only on boring ecclesiastical pictures where all the naked sinners wore loincloths.

"He's tired out," she continued, "Up and out riding just after six this morning. It'll help keep his liver in good condition." Another 'Mum!' in the background. "Anyway, lovely to have seen you all on Saturday and thanks again for all you did." There was a pause. "Here he is, Bye!" I just managed to say "Happy New Year" before Adam started breathing heavily down the line.

"Early bird, eh?" I said, "Missing your morning lie-ins?"

He ignored that. "Hallo, little cuz," he said, "Did the invasion go well?"

He'd been most amused at the prospect of Frankie and his pals descending on the College.

"Yes, all went well, but I've several questions to ask you. Firstly have you said about Nate yet?"

A curt 'No' was the answer I got for that. OK, press on.

"Did the Colonel tell you about the letter and why he sent it?"

"Yes."

"Is that all you've got to say?

"No."

"Tell me."

"Later."

"Why and when?"

"Research. Two days."

Oh, balls! This was going nowhere, fast. The usual loquacious Adam was either a) pissed off, b) being cagey, or c), just teasing. Which? I could hear Aunt Sophie laughing in the background so, he was either i) making exaggerated idiot faces and gestures, or ii) openly masturbating. I plumped for the first of those and the third option c).

"Let me get this straight. You may have information pertaining to the fragments but need to check and you will let us know about it at the weekend."

"Correct."

I looked round to make sure all doors in the hall were shut and hoped no one was listening on one of the extensions, here, or there.

"Well, don't spend too much time scratching that wee pimple of yours as you haven't got Nate to kiss it better if it gets sore."

"Thank you for your kind sentiments. Mum wants to speak to you again. Cheerio."

Short and sweet. I waited a moment until Aunt Sophie took the phone from him.

"Hello again," she said, "I meant to say we would be seeing you at Ulvescott for Burns Night. You and Tris will be there?"

I said we were looking forward to that and I understood the whole family were invited.

"Hold on a moment," she said. I waited. "That's better. Adam's gone upstairs and I've closed the door. I want to ask you something." I could guess. She went on, "Please don't break any confidences, but, is he seeing someone, you know, is he involved with someone? He seems very reluctant to say anything. Is it Nathaniel?"

What could I say? "Have you met Nathaniel?" I asked.

"Yes. He came down with Adam for a weekend in November. Is it him? We liked him very much. Don't worry, if it is him it would be OK It's Adam's decision and we would go along with it."

"Wait a little longer and he'll tell you," I said.

"Thanks. I won't say anything but we just want the best for him."

"Has he said anything about College plans?" I asked.

"Nothing much. We know he's getting papers published and he's editing those memoirs at Ulvescott."

"Again, I think he'll tell you more quite soon."

"I see. We were getting a bit worried because he's usually so open about everything and we thought it was being without Ivo. I know he misses him and the continual banter." She laughed. "We miss it, too! Bit wearing at times but we do miss it."

"I guess you'll hear more before we see you," I said, "And anyway you've got a grandchild to look forward to."

"Oh yes, George is over the moon. He's planning to buy a Shetland pony so the baby will have riding lessons as soon as possible." She laughed. "I must say 'Tory looked well on Saturday. She said end of June. Can't wait! Anyway, thanks for the chat. Love!"

She put the phone down. I hoped I hadn't said too much, but she seemed happier. Oh, come on Adam, spill the beans!

Anyway the peace was shattered by the noisy arrival of Dude on his motorbike. Not shattered by him but by the whoops and hollas of Frankie who greeted his entry with such enthusiasm Mum was only constrained by good manners from giving him the clout he needed to shut him up. I did shut him up by whispering that he should really appear in his leather jockstrap to match the leather motorcycle outfit Dude was wearing. The earlier grinning and nudging was, apparently, because Raph had tried it on and threatened to come down to breakfast clad only in that. Anyway Dude was welcomed more sedately by the rest of the family, and of course, Gran knew the Woolpits, relatives of Dude's who lived in the next village to her.

The rest of the day went just as I remembered all my previous Christmases. Warmth, presents, food, drink, sleepiness, a walk to counter that, stupid games, more food and drink and plenty of chat and the prospect of a larger party next door on Boxing Day. However, there was one big announcement. At the end of lunch when we had toasts to everyone present Dad said he had something to say. Mum was nodding and smiling and Gran was obviously in on it as well and Uncle Nick was pouring more wine into his glass.

"Just a little announcement," Dad said, as he stood glass in hand, "Well, several things. Firstly, I've been asked to take over as leader of the Westminster Baroque Orchestra." Frankie and I looked at each other. This was a great honour. The orchestra was becoming well-known and had recently secured a substantial recording contract. "Secondly, I will be more or less retiring from the Symphony Orchestra as I have been appointed a full professor at the Royal College in Baroque Studies, and thirdly, I have been asked to lecture in baroque technique in the Music Faculty at some second rate University in East Anglia." There was a pause. "I think it's Cambridge." The table erupted. Uncle Nick thumped the table and stood. "I propose a toast to my dear friend and neighbour and only hope all the cats in the vicinity will be safe as I hear there's a shortage of gut for the strings!" Groans and sneers from 'you know who' but glasses were raised. What an announcement! And Dad added later that he would be an Honorary Fellow of St Mark's College.

From Boxing Day to New Year's Eve I worked hard at my Maths and my playing. But just as importantly, we, Tris and I, shared our love with Frankie. In fact, Raph was involved as well. On the Christmas Day walk Frankie and I strolled behind the family. He had it all worked out. I found out he and Raph had talked long into the night of Christmas Eve and had told each other of their sexual history. That was also part of the nudging and grinning as they had agreed to share everything and everyone. The night after Boxing Day Frankie came into my bed and Tris joined Raph. I was prepared for Frankie and he fucked me twice that night and was in tears because, he said, of the sense of great freedom and of love. Two nights later he was with Tris while Raph and I slept together. Sleep only coming after I had given all my love to Raph and he had showered me with his. Frankie's comment again was that he hoped he could find someone to love and feel as free as he did with us. Raphael and he also shared their passion in various ways and Frankie was quite disconsolate when Raphael had to go back to Cambridge the morning of New Year's Eve. We reminded him to see if Hary or Denzil, the blond lad, would succumb to his advances.

Adam was true to his word and was back to loquaciousness by the Saturday. I was sitting in the kitchen trying to do a bit of the Times crossword when he phoned at about ten a.m.

"Hi, precious one," he began, in imitation of Charles, "I thought of you as my backside's sore. I got a new saddle for Christmas and it's taking some getting use to just like another pain in the arse." Obviously Aunt Sophie wasn't around to hear such vulgarity. I ignored the implication.

"Pity Nate isn't there to kiss that better," I said.

"Ah, but he is and he's nursing a sore bum as well as he hasn't ridden before. He's also walking bow-legged..."

The phone was snatched from him. "...Take no notice of him." It was Nate. "Anyway, best wishes for New Year and your organ exams." So I had been discussed but what had been said about Nate? "Just to tell you before I hand the phone back... Stop it!" The phone was snatched back as I heard the bang as it hit something hard.

"I will tell the dear lad. He's my cousin. It's all OK. I told Mum and Dad on Boxing Day and Nate was coming to stay anyway yesterday. All's well. They even like him." I could hear chuntering in the background. "When he gets his teeth out of a tangle I'll let him talk to you. But first, have you a pen? I have some information."

I hastily grabbed Mum's shopping pad. "Yes, OK."

"Firstly the reference would seem to be to Albertus Verres, known colloquially as Albert the Boar who was a fourteenth-century duke of Thuringia. And before you ask it's a German state next to Rothenia. Now, Albert was rather a nasty man and I'll fill you in with more details of his career when I see you and you'll need to bring a vomit bag!" He laughed. "Got that?" I said I had. "OK, next, there are two Leopolds, Rothenia this time. There's a mausoleum in Zenda where a King Leopold of Ruritania is buried and it's named after him. It's got it's own name and I'll spell it for you, OK? L..u..i..t..p..o..l..d..i..u..m. Shall I spell it again?"

"No, it's OK," I said.

"Right! More to come. Secondly, there's also a Prince Leopold who died a few years ago, the old Leopold's grandson. He's buried with his mother in the same mausoleum. That Leopold was the son of King Albert of Thuringia who was another nasty piece of work. From the bits I could gather Prince Leopold was a good man. However, there are stories about other things buried at Zenda as well as the bodies but nothing authenticated. The reference to 'three rods and a death's head' would appear to be to the arms and decoration seen in various places. Lastly, the Wilde bit is probably the first bit of a local name. I know Tris wondered if it referred to Oscar Wilde but I don't think so, but, funnily enough there is a Count Oskar, with a K, who's buried elsewhere. As far as I can find out at the moment he's probably at another place called Tarlenehem. That's all I have for now as I need to consult stuff in the library that man's been visiting. I guess it's Michaelhouse as they have special restrictions on lots of stuff in their vaults. I've told the Colonel and he's checking with that Dr Mackenna who was at the wedding and taught Ivo to see if he knows who's been around in Rothenia in the past few years or so. The impression I got is there's a lot of strange happenings out there. That's all I've got at present, here's the lad."

I didn't have time to thank him for all that as Nate was back on the line.

"Just to say everything's OK. Your Uncle says if I can get the idle bugger in order I'm welcome to him. That was said as I tried to breathe through a great bear hug. Sophie says you primed her a bit. Shag-bag here had a fit when she said that and I thought you'd be deprived of essentials when he saw you next but he's calmed down now..." More chuntering in the background which went on a bit. "...To paraphrase all that, he says it's only his reverence for Tris that prevents him using his Dad's castrators on you. I'll see you at the Burns Night. Love to you both!"

I said to pass my thanks to Adam for his erudition and his mercy. I heard the mighty raspberry blown at a distance and said cheerio.

Not much to go on so far but I knew Adam would ferret out as much a possible. I had the feeling that he and Nate might be visiting Rothenia and not just to see Ivo and 'Tory. But one thing I was very glad about was that Adam had made a commitment to Nate in that he had told his Mum and Dad and that they had accepted them both.

2004

A couple of days into the New Year I had a missive from Scotland. A card depicting Edinburgh Castle in all its dour granite fastness on one side. Luckily the card was in an envelope as the message on the other side was quite graphic. Jointly, sentence by sentence, written by Curt and Logan.

'Tests all OK. [I assumed written by Curt.]

Sharing a bed at my Uncle Robert's [Must be Logan]

Better than anything ever before. [Curt again?]

Wonderful! Everything! Oh, jings! [I'd remarked on Logan's use]

My lovely Scottish hunk!

Ma wee Scottie bairn!

I ain't that wee!

Not where it counts!

Love, Love.' [Two entwined words.]

So, Logan and Curt had got to the final stage and had triumphed! Another pair!

Up until the day of our exams Frankie and I went over past papers together and Dad helped greatly by commenting on our efforts. We practised separately at the church although I listened from the nave once as Frankie played through two of his pieces very well. We went up to London and sat the written papers and then had our practical exams. Mr Prentice insisted he came on both occasions to act as our registrant and page turner. He said he needed a couple of days off from the operating theatre as he'd had plenty of fractures to deal with over Christmas and the New Year. Both of us thought we'd done OK on the written part and neither of us, in Mr Prentice's opinion, had made any horrible errors in our playing. We would have to wait and see if the examiners agreed.

I must have caught something on the tube journeys to and fro as other passengers seemed to be intent on coughing and sneezing all over the place. My temperature rose the evening after the practical and I was in bed for two days on fluids, Night Nurse and no care from my own night nurse who kept to his own bed next door out of the reach of contagion so he informed me by mobile phone! I felt really groggy for the next few days and delayed going back to College until the Wednesday of the week after term started.

I wasn't feeling too happy with myself on the Thursday morning and wasn't too pleased even with Oliver who I felt was fussing over me too much as I didn't want anything to eat except soft toast and marmalade. I played the organ for the eight o'clock Chapel but cut short my usual outgoing voluntary. I survived the morning lectures and thankfully accepted the copies of notes from all the lectures I had missed from an attentive pair of Fiona and Dina who realised I wasn't my usual mostly happy-bunny self. Both had had super-duper Christmases from what they said but were concerned about the amount of work to do for Finals. My attitude at that moment was fuck Finals, my bones ached and I felt so lethargic and I was due for a brain-bashing tutorial with James Tanner at two o'clock. Lunch tasted like stewed cardboard with snot gravy and even two cups of strong black coffee afterwards in my set didn't raise my spirits. I dragged myself unwillingly to James' rooms at the appointed hour.

Oh Gawd! Even he had a happy smile on his face as I entered. I sat heavily in the chair next to his desk having moved the usual pile of papers off it and judiciously shoved the pile of text-books and other debris on the floor out of the way. The smile went as he looked at me as I opened my shoulder bag and extracted the sheaf of notes I had prepared over the vacation but hadn't delivered. 'Well, you did suggest I did some work and it's your turn now to mark it,' I thought.

"Thank you," he said as he riffled through the sheets in the plastic folder. I always put work for him in distinctive yellow plastic folders because otherwise they would be buried and lost under the mountains of paper which overflowed his desk. He had said last year he was involved in co-ordinating the rewrite of parts of the syllabus for some other university and I knew he was very actively involved on College committees but what the rest was Lord only knows! But, today, I was not interested. I had more or less grasped what the lecturers were driving at this morning, but even Fiona had let fly an unseemly oath at the end of the last one. Most unladylike and I did feel just well enough to giggle. But now. James set the folder on top of the furthest pile where it slid onto the smaller pile next to it. Luckily nothing fell out. I'd heard tales of a past tutor who would absent-mindedly light his pipe from spills made from unmarked students' essays. At least James didn't smoke.

"Well, Mark," he said looking over the top of his glasses, "I have a very large bone to pick with you."

What the hell? He knew I had been unwell. In fact so unwell I couldn't have plucked a fifty-pound note from the middle of the lawn, which I knew was a sure sign I'd had flu.

"I'm sorry I missed the tutorials but my mother did phone the Porter's Lodge to let you know."

"Not that," was the terse and unhelpful reply.

I racked my less than willing-to-be-worked brain. Ah, yes!

"Is it about that evicted student? Tris did phone Jacob to find out if it was still OK."

"No, Jerzy was great company. He's sorted out now in new accommodation and the old landlord is paying him compensation. It's not that either."

Was he playing games with me? Was I for the chop as far as Maths was concerned? Had he realised my little brain wasn't capable? But, I had a publication on the way with a possible second one so it couldn't be that. The stewed cardboard was rebelling as well. I didn't know whether to fart or burp but controlled sphincters at both ends. I looked at him imploringly in silence.

He did laugh then. "I just don't know what to make of you. What's this?" From a pile nearer to him he drew out my missing notebook. I felt a sense of relief. It was a small thing, but mine own.

"I thought I'd lost that," I said, reaching out to take it from him but he held it closer to him.

"Well I suppose you had," he said, waving a hand at the accumulation of papers and books. "Luckily I needed a file of stuff so had to come in here before Christmas and found it lodged under my desk. You must have lost it when you tipped that bag of yours out at the last tutorial." Oh, yes! My shoulder bag carried all sorts of essential things and in getting out my latest notepad the blasted thing had upended and stuff had spilled out. "So, I've spent time when I should have been doing other things going through it." He harrumphed. "Some of it is a bit trite. Conclusions anyone with half a brain could discern, but...," And here the big grin appeared and a shake of the head. "...you've been hiding your light. There are several things even big- head me would never have dreamed of exploring and you have..." He looked at me and shook his head again. "...and you've come to some very sensible conclusions." I must have looked flabbergasted. They were just interesting jottings as far as I was concerned. "I had the feeling three years ago you might be rather special," he laughed. "You know you are the most expensive Maths student the College has. The Brigadier has remarked he's had to fork out for extra tutors for other students while you have the luxury of me alone."

I had realised something of this. I knew other Maths students met their supervisors in pairs as Fiona and Dina did and quite often with Fourth Year students or PhD candidates as their tutors. A couple of other Second Years I'd gone over stuff with at the time had remarked on this. I assumed I needed one-to-one so had been given the valuable time with James. I assumed as he was a Prof he could pick his students. And I knew he had at least four PhD students as I'd attended seminars at the Maths Faculty building when they'd talked about their work. Needless to say, I'd kept quiet at question times just marvelling at what was said.

He waved the book at me. "I suppose you also realise that in our little sessions we've done things way outside the general syllabus?" No wonder my little brain reeled at times. "You've got all the day-to-day stuff well-grounded and I thought we would see how far you could go." He put the book down and pointed at it. He smiled. "I'm glad my intuition was correct." I put my hand out to retrieve my book but he placed the flat of his hand on it. "First things first. You will be going on to Part Three." I didn't know if this was a question or a command. I prevaricated.

"I don't think I can afford another year. It's only the Pennefather which has kept me afloat. I've got a student loan and I've been lucky my Uncle has given me some money. My brother's here next year so we can't expect too much from my mother and father." I thought 'lucky bugger' as he's got a shed-load of dosh to come from Unc. James held up a hand.

"You do what I think you can do in finals and we'll deal with it all then. Now, how did the organ exams go?"

I was hardly thinking straight. I said I would know the end of next week when the results came out. "But, as usual, you cannot judge," was James' cryptic response to that. "We'll discuss this when we have time," he said handing me my notebook. "Don't lose it again but keep putting things in it." Yes, I had at least two things which had bugged me while going over the problems he'd set and I'd had a go at sorting out. But, I think I was shy. I kept hearing of his reputation and now...

"....And now we'd better have a look at what you've missed," he said, "I suppose Prof Horner...."

That was that. I did manage to keep up and my notepad looked like a spider's jungle when the two hours came to an end. I was exhausted but it was a happy exhaustion. I was also invited to lunch on Sunday. "Bring Charles and Oliver as well," were his parting words. Good! Charles would insist on a taxi.

I went back to the set and lay down on my bed. At half-past four a concerned looking Liam knocked on the bedroom door and came in. "Sorry for barging in but are you OK? Sean said you looked like death warmed up at lunch time." I hadn't even noticed Sean. I said I was better than I had been but... "Tea!" he said.

I felt much better having his company. I got up and sat in the now very warm living- room with tea and a slice of Auntie Dil's Christmas cake which he also shared. He chatted on about Christmas and how a couple of our sporty types had been carted off to hospital through overindulging in alcoholic beverages the first Saturday back. I heard that Charles was also back from his travels with tales about the Middle East and Curt and Logan were inseparable. We were interrupted by a knock at the door. Liam got up and went to it. It was Charles.

"My dear, I hope I don't intrude," he sat down nevertheless and Liam rushed to the kitchen for another cup and more cake. "I heard you were indisposed. You don't look too well." Thank you, I thought, for that sentiment. I'd already had 'death-warmed-up'! "You mustn't overdo things. Perhaps I might tempt you with a few things to stimulate a jaded appetite." He opened the bag he was carrying when he came in and drew out a bottle of champagne and two tins of some exotic pate. Yes, I had bread to make thin toast. "Liam, precious, pop the bottle in the fridge, please." He looked at me. "Permit me to help you sample it later..," The hands waved. "...Only if you feel up to it."

"Charles, what a lovely thought. I feel so much better already. Then you must tell of your travels." Creep! No, I wanted to be entertained. I was feeling better. I had to speak to Tris, though. Phone him when he gets home at about six. Tell him about what James had said. Should I attempt to stay on another year?

I was only half listening as Charles and Liam were discussing some pressing College matter. Yes, Liam was to be Jason's successor. I could see him as Old Albert's successor as well after next year. Very young, but very efficient. Oh, if I had to find a job I would miss my College life and all my friends. This was going to be a momentous and demanding year.

Oliver came in just after five also looking concerned about me. I would miss him, too. But he cheered up when I said I was feeling much better and he'd had some tea and cake as well. Liam said he'd better go as he was on duty from six until ten. I knew he was itching to ask something but was constrained by Charles' presence. I guessed it might be about another visit to the Club or to discuss what we'd heard about the burned notes. Charles left with him still going on about building work to take place over the Summer vac. His parting words were that the new computer wiring would be starting on Monday with our stair.

Oliver said he didn't feel like a Hall supper so would I like an omelette? His omelettes were fabulous as he said he'd learned to make them from a Chinese cook his father had in Singapore. I though that would tempt me and he laughed when I said what Charles had brought to tempt us later.

I was feeling better by the minute and then my mobile trilled my Bach ring-tone. Tris of course, and he cheered me up even more. Not because dear Toad had come home with a bruised knee from playing hockey but that Tris had got a commendation from a tutor on a piece of work he'd had to do on contracts. Of course, we both said we missed each other but we would be meeting up at Ulvescott on Friday the twenty-third and don't forget the kilt!

The next time until then went very quickly. I took Liam and Sean and met up with Barry Hall at the Club on Saturday where we were met by a booth full of leathermen. The boxers, plus Brad and Batman and a new couple who had joined in as well. What a night! Drink flowed freely even if most drank non-alcoholic and I had to watch it, too, as I was scheduled for the morning service.

Then during the week there was a phone call from Frankie just as I was getting ready to go to Hall for supper. "The results have come," were his opening words, no greeting, "Shall I open your envelope?"

"What about you?" I asked.

"I asked you, shall I open your envelope?" he said quite brusquely. I just wondered if his had been bad news. "Yes, please," I said, "But wait while I take a deep breath." There was a slight pause.

"It's OK, you've passed," he said laconically with no emotion, "And you've got two prizes." I exhaled.

"And what about you," I asked, hoping against hope he'd passed, too.

"I passed as well and I got two prizes, too!" There was a tremendous screech from him and a shout. "We both passed, hooray!"

My goodness me an FRCO, a graduate already, and him an ARCO and on his way!

"Mum's here," he said.

There was a delighted laugh. "I hope you liked that little charade. He opened his as soon as he got home from school. Congratulations. I'll phone Reg Prentice and tell him. Your father's got a concert this evening and nearly opened the envelopes this morning when they arrived. I'll phone Francesco and Aldo and get them to tell my dear mother. Tris is here." Mum had just spent a long weekend sorting out Grandma Matteoli and I hadn't heard much about what had happened but I guessed there had been at least one shouting and screaming match. Uncle Francesco would have been relieved whatever the outcome.

It sounded as if Mum and Toad were waltzing around the kitchen and Tris was laughing as he came on the line. "Little brother's happy and I hope you are. Congratulations. I knew you'd pass. Talk to you later. I miss you." There was a chorus of 'Cheers!" as he hung up. Short and sweet but just those few words were enough for me.

But, I was emotionally drained. Joy. Relief. Exhilaration. Whatever. I collapsed on the bed in tears. Oliver came from the living-room looking for me. "Are you OK?" he asked. I jumped up and hugged him. "I passed!"

He just laughed. "Foolish boy, I knew you would. My results should be arriving soon."

He'd taken the LRAM oboe exam and I felt there was no doubt about him.

I had to tell Boz, Ben and Gwilym as well as Charles. They say there are three quick ways to get news around, telephone, telegram and tell a woman. No woman told but while I was sitting in Hall at least half a dozen fellow eaters came up, several thumping me on the back and endangering themselves as I almost regurgitated the lasagne I had chosen. I'd hardly got that down when there was a summons from the Master to present myself at High Table. There I had to sit between old Dr Sinclair and Mr Fullerton and was plied with a very fine dessert wine to go with the pud. A rather superior concoction to what was ladled out to the hoi polloi on the lower tables. A vastly amused James Tanner was opposite. It turned out there was some special committee sitting that evening and that was why a crowd of dons were in. I managed to make my excuses and thanked the Master who said it was an honour for the College as well. My progress back down the Hall was watched by numerous enquiring eyes and as I got to the door Liam was there with a sheaf of messages. I raised my eyes heavenwards. Oh no, it was just an exam.

"Miss Anstruther-Lamb presents her compliments and congratulations," he intoned as he handed me the first one, "Dr Al-Hamed sends his congratulations and best wishes," he was enjoying himself as several happy eaters, having gorged themselves, came out and stood watching.

"Thank you, Liam," I said, "I'll read them at leisure." I grabbed the half-dozen or so pieces of paper and turned to the inquisitive spectators. "I've just passed another organ exam," I said, "And everyone thinks it very important."

There were grunts of recognition from a couple of the large boatie types one of whom grabbed a hand and almost crushed it in a tremendous handshake. "Good on yer, mate!" My, my, another cheerful Aussie from the sound of it. I managed to escape any more bone-crushing encounters and rapidly made my way back to my set. I might have guessed. There were streamers over the door, in the hallway and loads of those irritating tiny streamers dangling from the two ceiling lights and the organ stops around the room. In a row were Oliver, Boz, Ben, Gwilym, Logan and his room-mate Anthony, with Charles directing a scurrying Sean to set out glasses and plates.

"My dear, your arrival is most opportune," he enthused, "We were just about to crack open a couple of bottles of Mother's favourite nectar to celebrate such a happy occasion."

I looked along the line of grinning fellow students.

"No one's pregnant or had a child, I hope!" I said, hoping to diffuse yet another really unwanted discomfiting situation on my behalf. Bloody Hell! I'd only passed an exam. But then, it was a rather difficult and prestigious exam. I'd clearly upset Charles.

"There is no need for coarseness," he said archly, "We will leave such expressions to those with a lower sense of the rightness of things." He must have seen my look of abject shame and softened. "But, my dear Mark, we are all aware of your sensitivity and, perhaps, shyness in expressing your triumphs. Needless to say, great triumphs as we have all witnessed." He turned to Sean. "Sean, my treasure, glasses for all. Boswell, you have strong wrists." He indicated two large ice-buckets, each with two bottles of champagne cooling in them. As Boz drew one out there was a gasp from Ben.

"Mother's favourite? It's Roederer Cristal isn't it?" he said almost reverently, "If it's 2002 it's very expensive. Wow!"

Charles waved a hand dismissively. "For a son of the manse you have a connoisseur's eye. Perchance you have sampled before?"

Ben shook his head vigorously. "Not bloody likely! Sorry, Pygmalion slipped out! But how? And where from?"

Charles held the finger and thumb of his left hand with the other fingers splayed and made a precise gesture. "Mother's new clients were so appreciative of her suggestions for the furnishing and decoration of what might be termed palatial mansions a case was delivered as a small token of thanks in advance of her fee."

"A case?" Ben asked as he peered at the bottle Boz was holding.

"A double case," Charles said in confirmation, "Twenty-four bottles to be precise. Mother decided I deserved half for the ordeals I had to undergo on the visit. Some of those young Arab gentlemen desire nothing more than to sit and hold one's hand while they pour out their litanies of woe at having to do exactly as their fathers tell them. All superbly educated in their own way and I have made tentative arrangements for at least four to be admitted to the College, two next year and two the year after. I do shudder to think, though, what might happen once they are let off the leash."

"But those are joys to come," said Boz, "Let's savour these joys now!"

There was a thump on the door accompanying the 'pop' of a cork being withdrawn and an inrush as the doors opened and two sweaty looking figures in sweatpants and fleeces came in, followed by Jason, who looked a bit flustered, and two others also clad in warm gym wear.

"What bloody joys?" It was Gabe in the lead, with Josh just behind him.

"Gabriel, dear boy, come in," said Charles looking at him and then at the others behind him. "Glasses, Sean, and for Gabriel's friends. Come in Clive and you, too, Clyde!" He waved at Jason. "Jason, sweet, thank you for locating these missing persons. You were correct in surmising they might be engaged in sporting pursuits. Perhaps you would distribute the tidbits and find a glass for yourself."

Soon, all of us had glasses of the very delicious 'nectar'. I was toasted several times as the drink flowed. A breathless Curt appeared, still in his Servery garb, and he was given a glass as well. I noted that Logan and Anthony stood either side of him and Anthony's smile matched that of Logan's.

Well, if this was Mother's favourite nectar I could get a taste for it. The only thing, or person, missing was Tris. Charles must have sensed my thoughts. He came over to me and held my hand. He must have learned that somewhere!

"Mark," he said, without any of the usual flummery, "I know someone is not here. There is a bottle secreted in the kitchen for you to share at home and I hope you will allow your brother to partake in the celebration of both your achievements."

"Thank you, Charles, it's too much really."

A straightforward smile. "Never too much."

To be continued:

Next: Chapter 40: Mystery and Mayhem at St Marks II 7


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate