Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
A Sequel
by
Joel
Seq. 3:
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 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] Liam Moore A Lodge Boy, Porter-to-be Sean O'Malley Servery Lad and Lodge Boy Curt Stein Servery Lad and cute with it Logan Henderson An engineering student with a problem
Christmas 2003
Monday 22nd December (Cont.)
Quarter-past two! The lads must be well into exploring the first cellar with the statues and some of the monastic artefacts. I wondered how interested in those they'd be or would they be raring to get to the central room with the wall-paintings? No doubt I would hear plenty over tea. But, I was wasting my valuable time. The two boys said they would finish clearing and washing up so I went to my study and immersed myself in test papers. It was only when I needed an urgent pee that I looked at my watch and found an hour and a half had passed. Good! I'd tackled a fugue, a chorale prelude and two questions on history of the organ and it's music. Dad would have his Christmas Day snooze interrupted by marking the musical bits and I wasn't unhappy about my essay answers. I did have to check that Buxtehude was pre-Bach and found they overlapped more than I had thought and not only had Bach walked from Arnstadt to Lubeck but also Handel had visited him there as well. I hoped I might be able to work those snippets in somewhere if a similar question was asked.
I carried on and tried a couple of writing for string quartet questions but wasn't too keen, but I persevered. I then looked at the test pieces where I would have to play at sight, after little more than a cursory glance, passages of four part harmony with the three top parts in soprano, alto and tenor clefs. I tried to concentrate on thinking through and decided to look at the harmonization and that did help. I'd really have to practise those tests and the transposition tests much more.
By this time it was getting on for five o'clock and I went out to the now tidied main room and switched the lights on. The crew hadn't arrived back so I looked out my 'Tallis to Wesley' set of Handel's six fugues and started to play through them on the harpsichord. I was negotiating the rather wide jumps in the fifth fugue when I was aware of the quiet entry of the lads and a hushed taking-off of anoraks and suchlike. I played on, as usual enjoying the somewhat quirky leaps and the way that great composer brought the recurring theme again and again in counterpoint with earlier entries. I had got just to the bottom of the second page where I could make a turn by playing the e minor chord and the next couple of chords of the next bar over the page with my right hand when a hand appeared and turned the page for me at exactly the right moment. I realised it was young Gregory. I nodded my thanks and completed the piece emphasizing those strange cadential chords with, I thought, elegant arpeggios and a final trill.
There was a round of applause. I turned and bowed, also elegantly, from my seated position. "Shopping done?" I asked. Stupid question. Hands pointed to an array of various bags and packages lined up against the wall. "And how were the cellars?" Another stupid question. There was a cacophony of answers until they all burst into hoots of laughter, all turning and pointing at Frankie, who, quite unabashed, did a bow which would not have disgraced an eighteenth century gentleman.
"Trust him to have pride of place!" Moggo said. "No wonder they made him look young though. He's got so little to show it must have been painted from life!"
As the youth in the painting had a more than reasonable sized set of equipment, admittedly outdone by the gent fingering him, Moggo was gently pulling Gobbo's pis..., no I mean leg.
"Not from life, but an adequate representation," said Frankie archly. He looked at me. "At least they all thought you and Tris were very..." For once Toad was lost for words as the whole lot guffawed.
"I hope you didn't embarrass Christopher or Wayne."
"It was Chris who took us round," said the usually almost silent Jack. "He explained everything and told us who everybody was in the paintings. He said that coin's in the College safe at the moment."
I'd forgotten that. The Book of Hours had gone back to the Museum for safe-keeping immediately after the service but the coin had been brought out later for inspection by guests on Saturday. I had an idea, perhaps?...
"Does it really belong to you?" asked Bozo. "Chris said it's very valuable."
I nodded. "The book and the coin are mine because of the instructions about whoever solved the code. I've said they really belong to the College, or the monasteries, or even the country and they'll end up in a museum to be seen by everyone. I'll ask if you can see the real coin tomorrow."
There was a murmur. Then Harpo spoke up. "Frankie said that harpsichord was given to you. It's lovely and that piece you played was gorgeous."
I explained a bit more about Ulvescott and more or less promised to arrange a visit for them all. Oh dear, perhaps I would be asking too much, but I knew they would be fascinated by the place and there was always all the craft shops and other outlets. It was just whether I would be playing on my connections with the place and the family. No, I didn't think so and Frankie backed me up on that thought.
"I think we could ask if we could go. Doctor Thomson said the place always welcomed young people and I would like to show my friends what a lovely place it is and I'm sure we wouldn't be a nuisance. We could go for a day perhaps."
"I'll ask Safar," I said.
That set off more discussion and I left Frankie to do the explanations as I closed the lid of the harpsichord. Young Gregory stood by me and helped.
"Thank you for playing that Handel piece," he said as we put the lid carefully down.
"You knew it was Handel?" I asked.
"I did as soon as I came in, but then I saw the name as well."
"You play the French Horn, don't you?"
He nodded. "And the piano. I got Grade Eight at Easter and I want to do Music at A Level."
"Any plans after that?"
"I want to go to the Royal College if possible. My horn teacher's a professor there."
"My Mum and Dad were there and Mum has students from there for coaching."
"Frankie says you've both got diplomas already..."
My turn to nod. "And we're both trying for organ ones in the New Year."
"Yeah, Frankie said so. He's good isn't he. Bozo took me to yours a couple of weeks ago and he was practising the piano."
"And you and Bozo?"
A shy smile. "I think so."
"Know so?"
No hesitation. The smile broadened. "I'm certain."
Our conversation was broken up as Sean and Liam appeared with the hamper and disappeared into the kitchen with everyone watching expectantly.
"It's OK," I said, "There's tea and bits and pieces in a few minutes and then you can sort yourselves out and we dine at seven. Be ready at quarter to, mustn't be late."
"Late for food?" queried Pugsy poking Moggo in the back, "Never been known, eh?"
"And what afterwards?" asked Jack, I thought a bit hesitantly.
"Straight to the Club," I said. "At least, nearly all straights to the Club, but I'm not sure," looking directly at Pugsy. He grinned and gave me a slight two-fingered salute from behind the others.
After tea and cakes and buns they left to get ready. It was time Tris arrived. I needed him as being surrounded by all these lusty lads I was feeling decidedly horny. But first Sean had to tell me that he'd persuaded Liam to come to the Club and that Frankie had said.... I held up a hand. "Don't tell me. You'll be OK Liam. Don't worry."
He grinned. "Never been but if there's a crowd shouldn't be too bad."
"We'll be there latest by nine thirty so tell whoever's on the door it's Mark's party."
"Oh good, we'll be finished serving and clearing up in Hall," said Sean. He turned to Liam. "Just give you time to put your glad rags on!"
Oh, I just wondered. I'd never seen Liam other than in his neat suit or his full Porter's garb and the pair were going off bearing parcels from Frankie with one for Curt.
Off they went and I followed them and went to the Bursar's office. Mrs Chalfont-Meade was there sorting through a stack of papers. She was always pleased to see me I thought and I waited until she'd riffled through the pile.
"Hello, Mr Foster," she said, always so correct. I had suggested she called me Mark when I was constantly in her office sorting out 'cellar matters' as she always referred to them. "Not gone home yet?" As she'd been present when I'd discussed the proposed invasion of the alien horde with Charles I was convinced that 'airhead' was a suitable description of her mental powers. No, I was being unkind. She did have a kindly nature. She'd plied me with coffee and Rich Tea biscuits on several occasions when I'd been to consult the Bursar or Charles.
"Wednesday, after the Nine Lessons and Carols at King's," I said.
"Oh, you are lucky, I didn't manage to get tickets this year. The Brigadier forgot."
Wow. First time I had heard her speak evil of the Bursar.
"He must have many things on his mind these days with all the expansion of the College." I almost sniggered as I said the toadying words. Many things? Golf with Mr Chalfont-Meade. The field at the St Leger. Golf with Mr Chalfont-Meade. What to do between sherries. Ah, golf with Mr Chalfont-Meade. The list was endless. No wonder Charles had his eye on the main chance.
"Yes, poor man," she said, "He's poorly today. But he said he'll be in tomorrow."
Poorly? I knew someone, Uncle Francesco probably, had been very liberal with bottles of champagne to those in College who were not officially invited to the wedding. No doubt the Brigadier had quaffed his ration over the weekend.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, a rather vacant look on her face as she began to thumb though the heap again. "Oh, dear," she went on before I could answer, "It's so complicated. I have to keep the payments made to attendants for the Exhibition separate from the payments made for sundry items used in the Exhibition for refreshments for the attendants. Chef was most rude on Friday as he said he had to balance his books."
I thought I'd better tell her what I wanted before being drawn into any fiscal arguments which might involve being chased by Cheffie with the cleaver and the Bursar with a golf club.
"Would it be possible to show my brother and his friends the coin tomorrow morning?" I asked interrupting her soliloquy. "Would half past nine be convenient?"
She was immediately interested. "That lovely coin," she breathed, "Oh, so rare and so beautiful. You could have it made into a wonderful pendant for your wife when you marry."
Ouch! How to disabuse the dear soul of two things. The ruination of a precious object only mine by default, never. And..., I wasn't likely to have a lovely wife, ever. A lovely companion, for ever, yes, I hoped. Best not to say anything. Just wait.
Luckily the moment passed. "Let me put it in the Brigadier's diary. He should be here but if not would you ask the Chaplain to come over as I don't know the combination of the safe."
Thank God for that. I wondered if she could even remember the PIN for her credit card. I thanked her, having watched her turn to the correct page in the desk diary and make an entry, and went back to my set. I sat down feeling even more horny than usual thinking about the outing to the Club and.... ....Where was Tris? ...Oh God I'd got two more terms without him around all the time and then I'd have to make decisions. Could I get a job? Teaching maths in a local school? I'd have to get a teaching certificate I supposed. Oh God, Toby and Louie were in London doing theirs. Would Tris and I have to swap places? Me in London and Tris here working in Paul and Jacob's office... Another year? And what if I didn't pass the Fellowship exam?... And what if I made a hash of my degree exams?... The old worryguts Mark was surfacing...
"Oh, am I glad to see you!" I jumped up and rushed to the opening door as Tris came in, briefcase in hand, looking so handsome and smart in his dark overcoat.
"Down, Fido!" he said as he put the briefcase on the nearest chair and I hampered him as he tried to disentangle his arms from the sleeves of his coat. He must have guessed I was in some sort of tizz. He wasn't going to help. He looked over to the table. He sighed. "I don't know. I come home from a long, hard day in the office and there's no gin and tonic waiting for me. What have you been doing all day. Just sitting around scratching your arse, I suppose?" He couldn't keep it up. He looked at me and laughed. "You stupid boy, what's the matter now?"
He opened his arms and I hugged him. "Just me," I said. I breathed a bit more slowly. "Sorry, just usual worries surfacing again." I let go of him. "True, let's have a drink and I'll be sensible."
"I'll get them. You sit down and relax and then you can tell me about how those ruffians got on this afternoon, and that boy! Woah! Pulses raced a bit, eh?"
I snickered, feeling a lot better. "Hard-on up to my eyebrows!"
He chuckled. "Same here! Beauty and beauty, 'cause Bozo's a winner as well.."
"...As you well know."
He laughed.. "Lucky me, but Bozo's luckier if he and Harpo become an item. What do you think?"
"We'll know tomorrow morning...." We both laughed and he reached out and we kissed gently then with ardour. We broke the liplock and looked and smiled at each other. There was no doubt. We were an item.
"Gin?" asked Tris.
"Plenty of ice," I said and sat.
Over that comforting drink we discussed our days. Tris said he'd been dealing with a contract to open negotiations with various outlets for the new Leopardi brand. Jacob had said that as soon as he joined the firm the pair of them would be working almost full-time on Uncle Francesco's and Aldo's dealings over here. In fact, there was probably scope for an office to be set up, but they would need help with the Italian as the translation of documents had to be exact. He said it was so useful being in the office as Jacob explained all the details so well he was certain it would help when he sat his exams. I then had to tell him how I'd spent my day with counselling Logan and saying that both Sean and Liam would be coming to the Club and he shouldn't be surprised what might be worn, especially by Curt who himself was going to be surprised anyway by Logan's profession of love. Tris just shook his head and smiled until I said he could wait and ask the lads what they thought of the cellars, but I did hold my hands out about seven inches apart to indicate at least he had been commented upon. Oh, and I'd seen Mrs C-M to arrange for them to see the real coin. I then went over my worries about the future. He leaned over and held me tight.
"You just go on and do the very best you can. We both know what Piers has said... ...and done. You're Mark and you are marked. That's certain. It might sound strange to have someone present like that but I know he's keeping a watchful eye on us. You'll succeed whatever you do. I feel I will as well and we know that scamp of a brother of yours will, whatever."
We kissed deeply and I felt so peaceful. Odd. The closing triplets of 'Jesu Joy' flooded my brain. We parted. Tris hummed a note. It was the final G, absolutely in tune. We smiled at each other, safe in other's company, safe in the knowledge....
We finished our drinks and then had to decide what to wear. For me, a quiet ensemble of Unc's finest. Aldo had given me the most wonderful silk shirt on Saturday. That and a new pair of dark trousers would match perfectly. Tris had a similar shirt and I thought we looked a real coordinated pair when we'd washed and dressed. Then a few drops of his father's latest gift from some female client, a torrid male fragrance by Jean Paul Gaultier guaranteed... Guaranteed to make two already sexy and sexed-up horny creatures into veritable satyrs. Two thoughts struck. One. Did Auntie Dil know about the constant replenishment of Tris's array of wonder products by that means? Two was voiced, satyrs in mind: "Wonder if Batman will be there tonight?"
"I told him about the invasion on Saturday when he was putting the Book away and he said he wouldn't miss it for worlds." He smiled. "Davy'll probably be there as well if there isn't the usual crisis at the hospital."
"Ow, the lads will be in for a treat." I then told Tris about Sean's alarm at the prospect of seeing his boxing mates.
"Lee's there most nights I think," said Tris. "They come in after being at the gym. It's just down the road from the Club. It's a wonder Sean didn't know."
"I think young Sean has had a rather sheltered life," I said "Jason told me his Dad disappeared when he was quite young and his Mum only got married to Liam's father fairly recently after his mother died so Liam calls her Mum as well now. Anyway, I think Mum must have cosseted her loving son and I think from what Curt said today there's an older sister, too."
Tris laughed. "You really pick up the gossip, don't you."
"It may be gossipy but I think those lads are all fond of each other. Certainly Jason keeps an eye on Liam and Sean and I'm sure Curt enters the equation somewhere as well. We'll just have to see what happens tonight."
"We'd better go and see what's happening over the road."
We crossed the passageway and tapped on Boz's door. Frankie opened it with a resigned look on his face.
"I now know what Dad must feel like when Mum takes hours to get ready. Bloody Hell, I knew exactly what I was going to wear." He did, too. He looked ultra trendy, just like one of Unc's models.
We followed him through into the main room. Five boys were in various states and stages of undress ranging from Pugsy who was completely in the nude to Harpo who almost matched us three in studied elegance. Frankie had passed over what must have been a complete wardrobe of Unc's designs and they certainly suited the willowy lad. There was a quiet murmur from the others; Bozo almost dressed, doing up buttons on a muted purplish shirt; Jack without trousers holding up one red sock and one green with Moggo grunting at him about colour- blindness and hauling up his own trousers at the same time; a quiet 'bugger, bugger, bugger' coming from Pugsy.
Pugsy turned as we entered. Gosh, he certainly had a muscly body with a marked six- pack and a massive pubic bush with a small patch of dark hair between his pecs. Yes, a short length drooped from the undergrowth. Short but well-formed with a hefty dark foreskin.
"Sorry I'm not ready but I was last in the shower and I can't find my underpants."
A grinning Frankie lobbed over a small parcel. "I hid them while you were in there so try these." He looked at the other lads who had stopped whatever they were doing as Pugsy ripped open the package and held up a pair of the red silk boxers.
"Oh my God," he said on a rising note and swiftly bent over, displaying a very hairy backside, and pulled them on. He did a twirl, a real balletic twirl worthy of a Nuryev, or perhaps, a Billy Elliot.
Frankie hurriedly scrabbled in a bag and tossed over three more packets to Moggo, Bozo and Jack. "You were all going to get them tomorrow but you might as well have them tonight." He turned to Harpo with the fifth gift-wrapped parcel. "Same for you, but I guess this will suit you better." One of the silk thongs dangled from the fingers of his left hand.
An open-mouthed boy took the proffered offerings. Slowly he dropped his trousers and pulled down the dark cotton boxers he was wearing. He had to remove his shoes as well before he was completely divested. As he stood to put the now discarded underpants on the chair next to him a second set of well-formed genitalia was revealed for quick inspection. I caught a glimpse of a darkish patch of hair from which hung a slim, pink, foreskinned cock over a pair of balls the size of small plums. Balls of that more than adequate size on a seventeen-year-old must produce a copious amount of boy-cream. They almost matched my Tris's as they hung loosely and then were enveloped in that sensuous looking fabric. I was concentrating so hard on that sight I missed the others hastily changing but the murmurs of appreciation were general.
"Oh, thanks!" Harpo said as he pulled up his shirt and showed off the outline of his cock and balls now so snugly encased. "Wow! Feels good." Hastily he re-dressed.
I nearly came in my own silk thong which I had abstracted before Toad had commandeered the majority of the contents in the bag. Wow, I also felt good and I'm sure Tris did who was similarly attired. We'd had a laugh about Curt's reputed size and Tris had remarked that as the material was so slinky and slightly stretchy we shouldn't worry about any eggs falling out of the basket, ours or his!
"Right, are you lot ready now?" came the commanding tones. Frankie was in charge. He surveyed his 'crew' and did not find them wanting. Yowks! If the paparazzi could have been warned then Unc's reputation would have risen to the Heavens. Gelled quiffs and points were much in evidence, well-shaven cheeks with no signs of blood from scraped pustules, loose ties or none at all setting off up-to-date Leopardi and Matteoli tops or shirts, well-cut trousers emphasising slim legs or rugby-players' thighs and, in at least two cases, quite pronounced frontal bulges, feet were encased in a variety of footwear from elegant loafers to more sturdy brogues. All in all quite a picture.
Frankie wasn't finished. There was to be a picture. He'd set up a tripod with a digital camera on top. Eight young gentlemen were arranged and the self-timer set. A flash and we were immortalised. Fleeces, anoraks or plain old coats were donned and we were ready to go.
As we went out I button-holed Bozo. "You'll be OK coming back with Gregory?" He smiled and fished in his trouser pocket and then held up the key to the door of the set he and Harpo would be occupying that night.
"Yeah," he said, "We shall miss going to that Club but I hope there'll be another time."
I laughed. "Frankie'll organise that I'm sure but you've got other things to keep you occupied tonight" His smile was enormous as we parted and he went to walk side-by-side with the boy whose own smile matched his.
Frankie led the way to the restaurant. Tris and I kept to the back and noted how all of them interacted, quietly and, one could say, with dignity. I felt a certain proudness for my young brother and I was not to be disappointed. Admittedly, they just about ate through the menu - no I'm exaggerating, but Pugsy and Moggo did have a large bowl of Moules Marinieres as well as a second starter before devouring what looked like half a chicken and a pile of frites each for their main course. Tris and I had a glass of wine but the 'tribe', as I kept referring to them as in my mind, kept to Coke or one glass of lager in the case of Moggo and Frankie. Conversation was subdued. Eating was more important after a hard day of viewing erotic art and Christian iconography and shopping! Service was a bit slow because the place was packed but, at last, the final creme brulee or whatever was savoured and thirsts were slaked and my credit card went through the machine without a hitch and we were off led by Tris and Frankie. Bozo and Harpo had already waved cheerio and walked off back to the College. There were no catcalls, no comments just waves in reply. I waited for Pugsy, last again.
"Had to drain the snake," he said, as he emerged into Bridge Street and joined me. "Some old fucker in there had a peer so I just shook the end at him." He chuckled. "Don't know if it's just me but it happens all the time."
No wonder. Pugsy was buffed-up, muscly, or whatever, and might be expected to possess other well-developed assets. But then, even I had experienced a good number of sideways glances when 'draining the snake' so perhaps it was a common happening. I had to admit to myself I'd had surreptitious glances more than once, especially when some exhibitionist waggled a length to get the last drop off.
"Just take it as a compliment," I said, "I think we've all had it and done it."
He snickered. "Too true. Curiosity didn't only kill one cat. Had to break up a rumble in the bogs recently because one of the Fifth Year accused some small kid of ogling his dick and bashed him. Next thing the older lad was on the floor with the little lad's mates putting the boot in. Who'd be a Prefect? One of the little bastards caught me just where it hurts most but did a dance clutching himself for that!"
As we wandered along we did change the subject. He told me a bit about himself. He was the product of a second marriage with an older brother in his thirties from the first marriage and two younger sisters from this one. His father had worked in the City in reinsurance and then had set up his own business having ditched his first wife and married his much younger secretary. I don't think Pugsy was too enamoured with his father who made a lot of money but spent it lavishly, seemingly mostly away from the family. I got the feeling he envied Shelley's settled existence with a very stable home life - even if the little madam spent her weekends on her back in his company - but then, I had her brother on his back whenever!
He confessed he wasn't too confident but had made a lot of progress when his rugby- playing skills had been recognised. "Gotta hand it to Frankie, too, the mouth may be continually active but he's proving the best mate I could ever have." He looked almost shyly up at me, I was about three inches taller, "Have to say it, he thinks the world of you and Tris. I wish I could have had a brother more my age. Curtis is OK, he's married and got a couple of kids of his own, but he's never been part of my life. I look after Mum and the girls 'cause Dad's so often away." He paused. "Shagging even more paid-for cunt! And he's fucking sixty-two!" He was silent for a while. "Sorry, Mark, I shouldn't have said that... ...but, God Almighty, I feel better for it."
"It's off your chest now. I don't mind listening. If you need to chat and I'm home just come along. I'll give you my mobile number, too."
He breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I get so uptight sometimes I feel like thumping some poor bastard in the other team. At least playing rugby gives me a chance to let off steam. I think Frankie's guessed I'm a wimp at heart, though..." He laughed. "You know what I mean? But he's never taken advantage and he's always supported me one hundred per cent at school."
"Yes, he told me about Batty and the fixture list. Between you and me, I don't think he's got you down as a wimp but as one of his heroes!"
"I'm no hero, just a faithful plodder. Mum says I'm just like my Uncle Mack. He's an engineer and he's great so I've decided to study that. Dad's not pleased. Doesn't think it's good enough. Cambridge is OK, but, engineering?" The last was said with a rising cadence of loaded skepticism and more than a hint of sarcasm. An imitation of someone who was very adept at belittlement.
I really felt for the lad. Oh, how could any parent be so callous. I thought to myself, Antony, if you were gay I'd take you into my arms and hold you tight and tell you not to let some self- indulgent, self-opinionated, self-obsessed old fart put you down. What could I say, or do? I didn't want to cause a major incident on a Cambridge street by giving the downcast lad the loving hug he needed. My thoughts were racing. He would be in my arms later. He would have to join in the dancing. But now?
"But it's what you want to do." It sounded very trite but our attention was drawn to two scruffy-looking types in hoodies, trainers and flapping, low-slung jeans with tapes and chains festooning their lower regions. They were gesturing at our group who had just reached the steps leading down to the door of the Club.
"Fucking poofs!" called out one - loud enough for us to hear but not to carry across the road.
"Fucking arse-bandits!" carolled the second making exaggerated wanking movements with his hands and arms in, no doubt, well-rehearsed fashion.
Pugsy strode up and stood behind them. "They happen to be my friends," he said firmly in his quite deep voice.
Oh Pugsy, keep out of it! The tales of young men being stabbed, or 'shanked' in the argot, were always in the papers. These two looked as if they might be carrying. Their coarse- sounding voices were provocative and carried menace.
They turned and looked at Pugsy. He was taller than both and one's hooded top slipped back to reveal a shaven-headed kid of about sixteen with enough metal-work in ears and brows to nail a fence. "Sorry mate, no offence," he just about stammered out.
He got no further as we were joined by three others. I turned. Thank God, not mates of these two but Lee and two of the other boxers, including the sixteen-stone heavyweight. I got the distinct impression that two street urchins were about to shit themselves and they would need their baggy-arsed pants to hold the load.
"You! Fuckwit! Come here!" A large gnarled hand reached out and grabbed the shaven-headed one's pointy nose. The kid had to 'come here'. The other one just stared, petrified, all the bravado gone. He didn't even have the wit to turn and run. "If I see you anywhere near here again your fucking snout'll be so far up your arse the shit'll be coming out of your lugs. I know you anyway...," He was looking at the other one who I guess was wishing there was a hole in the ground to take refuge in. "....Your Dad drinks in the same pub as mine. A quiet word and there wouldn't be any child protection stopping him leathering your arse!" He let go of the now very red nose of a very red-faced adolescent wouldbe tearaway. "Fuck off the pair of you!..." No more needed to be said. Even though handicapped by flapping clothing the pair would have won the hundred metres at the next Olympics, helped in this case by the application to each fleeing backside of an accurately planted Doc Martens boot.
"Didn't see or hear anything, eh?" Lee said as he dusted his hands together. "See you over there."
The trio marched off across the road. I looked at Pugsy. Pugsy looked at me. I shrugged. Pugsy shrugged and we crossed the road, too.
Our lot had disappeared inside by this time. The trio had reached the doorway and were having a quiet word with Craig the usual doorman and went in as he opened the door. He grinned as we came up to him. "Good evening, gentlemen, welcome as usual. Nice quiet evening, just as we like it!" From his position he must have seen the altercation and no doubt Lee had just confirmed any suspicions he may have had.
"Good evening. A perfect starlit evening," I said, "One Member plus guest."
He grinned and opened the door. Shawn was standing just inside. He wasn't grinning.
"Good, you've arrived at last!" he said to me, Pugsy stood still too. Oh God, what was up. Surely Frankie hadn't stripped off and doing a nude imitation of a can-can already? "I've got a quartet of creatures in my office with two of them weeping and clutching each other and saying it's your fault!" Here he did grin. "Get in there and sort them out or I'll have to put the hosepipe on them!"
His office was just by the entrance. He flung the door open with quite a dramatic gesture. I went in closely followed by Pugsy. There were Sean and Liam, dressed to the nines looking quite ravishing in their own way, gazing bewildered at Curt and Logan who were entwined in each others arms, tears coursing down their cheeks as they bestowed slobbery kisses on faces, necks, ears, chins, whatever came into range as they whispered and cried at each other. Logan was dressed, as usual when working behind the bar, in his kilt and Jacobean laced-up shirt. However the shirt was tear-stained and his sporran was all awry and pushed round almost to his back. Curt was in normal street clothes. He wasn't dressed in his usual minimal garb which would have been those shorts I had given him with, perhaps, a tight white tee-shirt. I had to do something. The Club was missing two of its essential workers.
"Stop!" I yelled. Amazingly it had an immediate effect. Perhaps not the one I desired. They looked round.. Disentwining, if there was such a word, they were then like two limpets with arms, not suckers, around my neck and chest. I was slobbered over. Undying thanks were expressed. I had engineered the greatest love expression since Dante and Beatrice, or Dante and Rossetti, or Dante and the King of Siam. No it couldn't be any of those, it was more like Dante's Inferno. The kisses were hot and heartfelt, though. Liam, Sean, Pugsy and the usually imperturbable Shawn, were all heaving with laughter. A match had been made in the Club if not in Heaven! With what was bulging out the usually sporran-covered front of the kilt and the pouchy tent in Curt's tight jeans if I had been female and fertile and they weren't gay I would have been in the other club straightaway. Gay? Logan had at last made his mind up! I think one or other, or both, that night would be explored by what seemed to be equally-sized phalli.
"Stop!" I yelled again. This time it did have the desired effect. They stood side by side, just their fingers entwined, Logan almost a head taller than Curt, smiling as if he'd already had the cat's, or Curt's, cream.
"Oh, jings!" he breathed out, "He's said 'Yes'."
"You mean you have, you silly great dope!" said Curt.
I thought the sex-battle was going to recommence. I was Acting-Regimental-Sergeant- Major. "Get cleaned up and dressed. Everybody's in there waiting for their drinks and we'll be in there in two minutes and I'm thirsty!"
That did it. Two creatures almost scurried off towards the staff room.
"Bloody Hell!" Shawn said quietly to no-one in particular, "I thought we were going to have a real live show like I saw last..."
He must have realised revelations might be used against him. He pointed at the four of us in a sweeping gesture. "You lot, get in there and the first drink's on the house." He laughed. "I wouldn't have missed that for worlds. That pair have been waltzing round each other for weeks like a pair of lovesick little maids... ...My, oh my, young love passes you by much too soon." He looked at Pugsy. "Just visiting?" He winked. "Pity you're treading the straight road." Pugsy's mouth opened ready to ask.... "It's OK," said Shawn, "My gaydar's almost infallible!"
Felix, the general dogsbody and hat-check boy in the cubby-hole next door, took our coats. "Lot'th in," he lisped, "Nice lot of boyth already. Hallo Liam dear, didn't expect to thee you. I'll give you a danth later."
Poor Liam, I hoped his undies were waterproof as he looked ready to wet himself, if not just to run home. I pushed him past Flirty Felix as he was know colloquially and rather fondly. He was quite harmless and spent most of his time quaffing cranberry juice and resetting the waves in his rather bouffant hairstyle. He had a boyfriend. A rather formidable six footer whom I now realised was probably another habitue of the gym if not a boxer. I had questioned the cranberry juice once, to be enlightened by Davy. "Keeps bugs in the waterworks at bay."
Tailed by Sean and Pugsy I and Liam entered the brightly lit part of the Club. The DJ was having a ball with the early numbers. The throbbing rhythms would be just the thing to get the lads going later. I shepherded my trio to the quieter, dimmer part where we usually congregated and sat. I saw Tris and Frankie standing with the others in the group who seemed transfixed by the sight in front of them. A trio of my favourite leathermen. The trio of Satyrs themselves. Brad, Dude and Batman!. Oh, my God! Dude? Gone to London. Gone up the smoke. Dude, my hero! Dude, Zack's hero!
It was Liam's turn to almost wet his knickers again. After effusive welcomes for all and sundry Brad turned to him.
"Made the step at last, young Liam? Shall I deliver a set of harness to Old Albert tomorrow for you? Nice upright figure, you'd set it off a treat. You could have Dude's vacant seat next to me!"
Frankie was there first. "He could borrow my leather jockstrap as well." Liam's jaw just about dropped. He hadn't been privy to Friday night's shenanigans. "Mr Tomkins could put the boot in and he wouldn't feel a thing!"
I put my arm round Liam who went all tense. "They're only teasing. Relax. Here comes Raphael for first orders."
That defused the situation. I ordered my usual G and T plus one for Liam. On the house of course! Pugsy and Sean went for Cokes and I noted an assortment including a few brightly coloured mixtures appeared for the rest. Being generous I'd ordered a wee dram each of the amber fluid for Brad and Dude with the usual non-alky lager for Batman. I gave a thumbs-up to the boxing trio and three shandies were delivered to them. Lee interlinked his fingers and showed off the most impressive set of biceps on each arm and pecs that stood out like slabs of beef on his chest in a display of thanks.
The lads were well away, not from drink, but savouring the ambience of the place. Frankie was busy pointing out, discreetly, various usual inhabitants. I saw Godders at his usual place at the bar and viewing our contingent with unalloyed pleasure. Spotting me watching him he put two fingers to his lips with open fingers in acknowledgement of the pulchritude of the group of young males. He hadn't seen anything yet. A second G and T followed shortly, brought over by a beaming Raph, courtesy of a grateful Godders. Raph had a moment. "Can't say how happy I am. Your Mum's brill." Yes, Frankie must have primed Mum to make the offer to the very dashing young giant in a tuxedo roped in to help at the wedding reception on Saturday.
The next flurry of excitement was the appearance of the happy pair now spruced up and ready to serve customers. At least Logan was fully dressed, his shirt somehow dried and pressed to immaculate tidiness, his kilt just right and his sporran centrally placed. I suppose Curt was fully dressed - for the occasion. Unc's shorts, white ankle socks and neat black slip-on shoes. Whistles, but certainly no catcalls, accompanied his entrance and his immediate delivery to me of a third gin and tonic. I placed it carefully on the low table in front of me, stood up and enveloped his hot young body in a mighty hug and gave him the sloppiest but heartiest kiss on his rosy lips as I could. It was Spring again when the birds do sing and mighty oaks put forth their foliage. Two young saplings clashed. "Wow," came a breathless whisper as our lips unlocked, "Nearly shot another load then!" Oh. So the intervening minutes hadn't just been wasted with tidying up. "Must get back but I want a dance later!" He was gone, but on looking round Godders was giving me another hand signal.
I thought I'd better work off some of the adrenaline, or gin, and grabbed an unsuspecting Pugsy and dragged him round to the dance-floor. Not dragged, he came most willingly and exhibited a much more expert knowledge of the rhythms and accompanying gyrations than I'd ever assimilated in my excursions into Garage, House, Reggae, or whatever. Five minutes later we had shed our shirts and were joined by equally shirtless other couples of Tris and Dude, Batman and the newly-arrived Davy, Moggo and Sean and, wonder of wonders, a most accomplished pair of Frankie and Liam. Wow, that usually straight shouldered young man bent and writhed and twisted and turned in perfect sync with my extrovert of a brother. In fact, two or three gins later the performance was repeated with Felix who I knew was a most accomplished dancer himself. Jack was in the fray as well, taken over by a succession of well-toned youngsters who seemed delighted to have a new, different, possibly seducible partner. Jack, I think, broke a few hearts that night. No seductions for him just the patent joy of letting ones hair down in convivial company. I surrendered Pugsy to the attentions of others and during the next two and a half hours worked my way through a good half dozen other partners including a still priapically rampant Curt who demanded at least three excursions through hotter and hotter numbers. At least I was getting hotter and hotter. Lucky Curt, minimal clothing as well. Little bastard at one point told a beaming Brad that I'd given him not only the shorts but also the thong he was wearing and had to be restrained from displaying the well-filled pouch of said garment to a Chief Detective Inspector! Brad did get a glimpse of the elasticated top before slapping his hand. "Spoilsport!" Curt said, "But I love you!"
I found out that Dude had a couple of days leave and was staying with Brad. He'd be free on Christmas Day after having to be on duty on Christmas Eve. A quick call to an intrigued Mum, who wanted to know about the background noise, and we had another stray for Christmas dinner. Oh well, I was filling my day with good deeds like the good Scout I'd never been. Pity we weren't into dressing up or I could seduce Tris later out of his Patrol Leader's uniform! I watched my lovely Tris as he looped and loped, swooped and then swopped partners and meditated on how lucky I was and hoped that Curt and Logan, and Bozo and Harpo, would find the same happiness. Midnight came and before we all turned into pumpkins Tris got Chris the DJ to put on a real smoochy number. I started that with Pugsy, moved on to Moggo, found Sean whose pecs were just as defined but lovelier than Lee's and whose left nipple hardened under a slight wayward touch, relieved Jack of a more than attentive hot Muscle Mary whose seemingly sole intent was to feel my cock pressed against his decidedly smaller one, I soon palmed him off (almost the right term as a wandering hand had also strayed dangerously near the waistband at the back of my trousers) and got the penultimate one with a hot, but not bothered, Logan who had crept onto the floor and whose Jacobean shirt was drenched with sweat and heady pheromones. We danced smiling, eyes locked until my Tris tapped me on the shoulder and I was his for the last measures. After the long languorous ending chord Frankie rounded everyone up and shirts and tops were donned again. No one missing although Jack was still being chatted up by a real hunk. Not saying that Jack wasn't a real hunk. I had been quite surprised at the toned torsos of the whole tribe, none of whom would be worthy of being booted out of bed!
Frankie the diplomat thanked Shawn, shook hands with Brad, was hugged by Dude and Batman, kissed on the cheek by Davy, saluted Godders who was swaying gently, got thumbs-up from the trio who were also getting ready to leave and was waved at by anyone else in view. He sidled up to me. "Quite a few found out tonight it wasn't a piece of old gristle hidden away on Friday! I saw you just about snogging with that big bloke as well but he's not so big as us though, eh!" A bit of tickle torture would be coming his way.
There was animated but subdued conversation as we walked back to College. We said goodnight to Liam and Sean who seemed just about blown away by the experience. No speculations were made about our missing pair. My evening was made by the kiss, not just a peck on the lips, by a more than grateful Pugsy for the heart-to-heart talk we'd had.
Both Tris and I were too hyped up to go to bed. Two sexy and sexed-up creatures sat side by side on the sofa in red silk thongs, heads resting on each others shoulders and reviewed our eventful days. The proposal for an English office had got a stage further in his mind. Late summer or early autumn. Staff would be needed. Young, bright, definitely someone fluent in Italian. Gabe and Lorenzo were possibilities. Just a suggestion. Something to drop hints about.
My triumph with Logan and Curt was so self-evident. Curt never even had to ask what question I had posed to Logan. I told Tris Pugsy's tale of a dismissive father. Pugsy's too good for all that shit to happen was his considered reply. We snuggled closer and laughed, kindly, about Liam and the way he had emerged.... ....like a radiant butterfly from a hard-shelled chrysalis. A bit far-fetched but good enough for a late night simile I said. "Bed!" said Tris and two happy and contented young men satisfied one further need before dropping off in perfect slumber.
To be continued: