Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
A Sequel
by
Joel
Seq 8:
Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned: Mark Henry Foster The story-teller: Pennefather Organ Scholar Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend. At College of Law. Francis Michael Foster Alias Toad/Gobbo Mark's younger brother Shelley Price-Williams Tris's sister Adam Benjamin Carr Mark's cousin: chunky and cheeky with it Ivo Richie Carr Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat Sophia Carr Their mother in Dorset George Carr Their father: A farmer Nathaniel Tempest Adam's boyfriend: a church historian Raphael Pack An Aussie blond bombshell Jack Goodman Frankie's bosom pal James Bowes-Chesterton Frankie's pal Bozo Patrick Montgomery Frankie's pal Moggo Anthony Pugsley Shelley's ardent boyfriend [Puggo/Pugsy] Gregory Parks Bozo's friend [Harpo]
Easter 2004
I hurried down the stairs following Frankie who bounded down two at a time. Reaching the living-room I saw a tearful Pugsy being hugged by a very concerned looking Raphael.
"Fuckin' hell, the bastard can't do that!" I heard Raph saying as we entered the room.
"He said so," Pugsy said through great sniffs.
I knelt down and put an arm up to hold him as well. "What's happened?" I asked.
He took a great big sniff and looked at me. His eyes were red. "I've been round Bozo's all morning doing Chem revision and I got home and my father was there..." 'My father' said with a certain venom. "...He was packing things up. He told me straight out he was asking Mum for a divorce. Good job Mum's at her sister's this weekend 'cause I swore at him and said he was..." He sniffed again. "...Shan't tell you what I called him but when I finished he said if I felt like that I needn't expect him to pay anything further for me. If I wanted to be a plumber's mate as it seemed I could pay my own way. He had better things to spend his money on, not being dragged down by a family he didn't need. I belted him one then!..." He held up a rather bloodied fist. "...Last thing I saw was the bastard crawling on the floor." He burst into tears then. "It's Mum and the girls I'm worried about... ...What will they do?"
"He'll have to pay up for them," I said. "Have you spoken to your Mum?" He shook his head.
"Came straight round here." He looked quite distraught.
I could see the knuckles of his right hand were bleeding and there was blood on his face where he'd tried to wipe away his tears.
"Let's get you cleaned up and then you can ring your Mum. Don't worry about your father, he can sort himself out."
Raph stood up with him and led him out to the cloakroom in the hall. Frankie said he'd find some plasters. I phoned Tris next door on my mobile - he was sorting things out for supper - and told him come back round sharpish. I just said "It's Pugsy" to finish with and he asked "Father?", I said "Yes".
Pugsy looked more presentable when he came back from the cloakroom with knuckles plastered and face washed just as Tris arrived. "You can use the phone in the kitchen," I said. He went through and I closed the door. I looked at Tris who didn't need to be told what had happened. I could see he had guessed. "What happens if his father cuts him off?"
Tris shrugged. "I suppose the local authority will pay towards fees but it's the living expenses he'll find difficult even with the maximum student loan and that would be a millstone round his neck for years to come. I owe about nine thousand pounds even with what Dad's given me and I've only survived this year because of the money from the Al-Hamed Foundation."
Frankie perked up at this having looked quite anxious over Pugsy's predicament. "He's sharing with me and my accommodation's free under Pennefather. He needn't pay for lodging."
Tris looked at him and smiled. "That would be good if it were possible." He looked at me. "Does Oliver have to pay accommodation fees?"
"Yes, I'm certain he does. And it'll be the same with whoever shares with Zack next year in the other set. Zack'll get free accommodation under the Pennefather Will but I wouldn't think the sharer will also benefit other than being kept warm. The College has expenses."
Frankie was in militant mood. "If I have free accommodation and the set is mine under the Will then whoever shares with me should get it free, too." He looked at me. "And that means Oliver shouldn't have paid this year as you own the set!"
"Hold on," said Tris, "We can't come to decisions just like that. It'll need someone like Aubrey Fullerton or Dad with experience to sort things like that out. I may have a law degree but I would need to look carefully at cases and precedents in relation to interpretation of Wills and I can tell you it's not an easy area of law. Think Dickens!"
"Sounds straightforward to me," said Frankie, "The College owes Oliver all the money his Dad's paid because he's on Mark's property."
"I know it sounds simple," said Tris, "But it'll cost more than Oliver's fees if it went to court for a decision!"
"But Mr Fullerton is at the College and he's a QC."
"I know, but it may be necessary to get a second opinion."
"Your Dad!"
Tris laughed. "If lawyers did everything free then poor kids like me and Shelley would starve!" Before Frankie could make a retort Tris went on, "Pennefather Scholars and Servants of the Chapel get their accommodation and buttery free under the provisions of the Will. What would have to be decided is whether either could, as it were, sub-let their property to another." He laughed. "Even leasehold law is tricky and there have been plenty of changes in that in recent years. Let's not speculate but make suggestions."
"And there's all that money coming in from the cellars. They could do things for poor students with some of that." Frankie was working up to a real frenzy. "Pugsy's going to go to Cambridge even if I have to borrow from Uncle Francesco or use my money he's promised me. He's my friend and I'm doing all I can for him!"
"Frankie," I said, "Don't get worked up. It may be that his father will pay up. If he doesn't then we'll have to see what can be done."
Frankie nodded. "OK, but we've got to help sort him out." He shook his head again. "Bloody Hell, who'd think a father could be like that?"
"Plenty are," said Tris, "I've learned a lot about family law this year. It's a major area for solicitors these days. Divorce, abandoned families, child abuse, settlements and so on. It's quite frightening when you read through transcripts of cases and court proceedings what some kids and their families have to go through. And it's not only fathers who desert! We're lucky and I say that with feeling."
Eyes turned to the doorway as Pugsy came in. He did look a mite happier. "Thanks," he said, "Mum said she expected it. Apparently, he more or less told her there was someone a bit more permanent at Christmas. Said I wasn't to worry about hitting the bastard as it was what he deserved. She said I was going to Cambridge whatever he did as she's got enough evidence on him to make him pay." He did manage a grin. "Being his secretary in the past might turn out for the best. She said she and the girls would stay away until Monday if I didn't mind. Anyway," he looked at me, "I hope you don't mind but I phoned my half-brother as well. He went up the wall and he's going round to the house to sort him out if he's still there. He lives in Crawley so he won't take long. I'd better go as well."
"No you don't," said Tris, "We don't want both of you had up for assault which'll happen if you both are there and do anything together. You stay here."
"You're here until your Mum get back. We've got the spare room and there's plenty of clothes around," I said.
Frankie laughed. "You can have Marky's old cast-offs like I've had to put up with for years. Come on, cheer up. Sounds as if you might be better off without him."
I thought that might be a bit heavy but Pugsy nodded. "I despise the shit!" He looked at me. "Can I really stay. I don't feel like going back to that house..."
"....In case he's still there?" I said. "You're welcome and I think we could all do with some tea!"
Over tea and a pack of hot-cross buns things relaxed considerably. I also noted the overt scrutiny Raphael was giving Pugsy sitting across from him. Then over the next few hours I noted the close attention Pugsy was giving Raphael. None of us were surprised when the pair went off to the spare room together at bedtime. I looked at Frankie who was losing his bedmate. He grinned. "Saw it coming," was his whispered comment as we three followed them a bit later up the stairs.
We never enquired who wanked, sucked or fucked whom over the next three nights but I know Tris surreptitiously put two packs of three on the bedside cabinet on Easter Saturday morning. On Monday evening when Pugsy went home and Raph returned to warm Frankie in his bed nothing was said and no packets, full or empty, were evident.
When Mum, Dad, Auntie Dil and Uncle Nick returned on Monday morning I and Tris met them as Uncle Nick parked the Lexus in their drive. We quickly told them what had happened and Pugsy was made even more welcome. Uncle Nick said to us two privately that if Pugsy needed help or advice he would be there.
Of course, Frankie and Raph were intolerable for the next two or three days. Even Mum got a bit fed up with their constant, almost pre-adolescent giggling at mealtimes. I went into their bedroom on the Thursday evening and said I didn't mind if they were fucking each other like little rabbits but please tone down the puerile behaviour. Toad's sneer was wiped completely off his face by Raph's almost confession.
"Sorry, Mark, but we've had a marvellous time. Tony.." He always used Pugsy's given name. "...says he'll tell you the same when he sees you. Yeah. I've loved your brother..." Here he put an arm out and drew a non-protesting Frankie towards him. "...And I've loved Tony. He's still Shelley's boyfriend but he knows a lot more now." He leaned towards Frankie and brushed his cheek with a kiss. "And the same with Frankie. I love them both and I've loved them both..."
"...And the same for Pugsy and me," Frankie said quietly, then turned and kissed a smiling Raph. "We've got to find someone for you, mate!" he said, "Even if he is a Hairy Monster!" 'Hary Moncrieff just wait' I thought.
Pugsy did come to have a chat on the Friday. His half-brother hadn't flattened their father again but had said if he made any trouble then he, Craig, would see to it that his business pals would know what a shit he was. He'd cleared all his things out of the house and had left a note saying he was going to live in Antibes in the South of France and it would be the last they saw of him and Pugsy's Mum could have the house and he would be paying maintenance for the girls. On the Saturday Pugsy received a cheque for twenty-five thousand pounds which went straight into a Building Society account. Frankie still chuntered on about free accommodation and we said best to leave that to the College to sort out. Before Pugsy left to gather up Shelley for an evening out he grinned. "I have a feeling quite a lot of us are a bit bi..."
Of course, with Easter over we three were now on the downward path to exams. With two diplomas now under his belt Frankie felt quite confident about Music. He thought he would be OK with French as Laurent's father had given him a crash course on the set books at half- term and had been very complimentary about his knowledge and understanding. History was another matter. However, Moggo, Raph and he had really slaved at the revision notes and his coursework had been marked high. Tris thought he would be OK in his Law Society exams as long as he didn't forget the pernickety details in contracts or conveyancing. I was in my usual worry-mode. For some reason I'd got stuck on one particular question in last year's paper. It turned out to be just a question of notation but I spent two fruitless days trying to work it but was managing to come to reasonable conclusions in other sections. I particularly liked the Logic sections I worked through and even thought I might have a flair for that so-abstruse subject. I worked so assiduously I had to go and buy two more pads of lined paper at Smiths as I was doing as many questions as possible from past papers. I talked to Fiona and Dina on the phone most evenings and we compared answers and I must say I did seem to get there a bit faster even though we tended to tackle the problems in the same way. Timing, timing, timing was the mantra.
Back at College most of the Third Years seemed fairly frantic. Gabe and Josh seemed to be OK. I know Gabe took a lot of advice from Charles about picking suitable arguments in the various Philosophy papers. If I thought I might understand Logic then Gabe beat me hands down. In fact, he showed me several little hooks and that made me more confident. Josh wasn't quite as confident about Economics, though. As he said, he didn't have the Maths background some areas really required but.. "I only need a Third," he said. Oliver had worked steadily at his portfolio of pieces and at past theory papers. I would be working in my study and hear him try out a fugue, chaconne or straight harmonisation on the piano in the main room. Oliver, in my opinion, humble as it was, seemed to have music coming out of his finger tips. Safar had told me on the Burns Night visit at Ulvescott that he was amazed at how fluent he was in writing in almost any genre. I knew Safar had suggested to the conductor that Oliver's 'Aubade' should be tried out just at rehearsal. The conductor put it straight into the next program.
A big announcement appeared on the College notice board outside the Porter's Lodge during the second week of term. I knew there had been a meeting of Fellows on the Monday evening as James Tanner had been in a very good mood that afternoon and I thought he was itching to tell me something and High Table was crowded for the evening meal. At twelve noon on the Tuesday the notice went up. Just a couple of lines. 'Mr Adam Carr BA (St. Mark's College) to be Fellow in Modern History from September 1st 2004.' I ran across to see it as an excited Jason had phoned me in my study. There and then I phoned home. Mum was ecstatic and would let Dad know as he was at a rehearsal in Croydon. Adam was a great favourite. I phoned Ulvescott. As usual Ibrahim answered. Before I could say anything he knew what I wanted. "Adam's here on the computer." He was ecstatic as well. "Cuz, I've made it," he said, "I couldn't wish for anything better. I hope I can be a success." I heard Ibrahim say "You are!" I burbled on about how pleased I was and I'd told Mum. "For some reason there's a party here on Saturday," Adam said almost nonchalantly. "Bloody fool!" I heard the very stately Ibrahim say behind him. He must have taken the phone from him.
"He's never grown up has he?" he laughed. "Anyway, as many as possible are invited. Get your friend Charles to hire a mini-bus or something. Just give us the numbers Saturday morning. Be here by six. All can crash down and we'll kick you out on Sunday afternoon."
I made a list. Of course a well as Charles and me and Oliver there were Gabe and Josh and a couple of post-grads who had been friends of the Thugs and a teacher at one of the Cambridge schools who had graduated with him. Raph couldn't be left out although he only knew him vicariously and so it went on. I ended up with a list of about fifteen from the Cambridge end. I heard that Tris, Mum, Frankie, Auntie Dil and Shelley would be taken by Uncle Nick. Dad was playing in Bournemouth so would miss it, sadly. Charles was so pleased, too. He hadn't been at the meeting as he wasn't at full Fellow level yet and, although he had known that evening, there was an embargo on the announcement so he couldn't spill the beans. I think Mother was persuaded to part with more bottles of 'nectar' as one important constituent addition to the coach party was a case of bottles. In any case he would be visiting 'that place' he had heard us talk about.
The evening was such a happy event. Uncle George and Aunt Sophie had come up from Dorset and they now had two sons who had made it. There was a superb buffet meal and then we toasted Ivo and 'Tory as well as other absent friends. It was very touching how both the Colonel and Sheikh seemed to regard Adam as another grandson as it were. The elder Doctor Thomson made a speech saying he had endured being a Fellow of his College for many years but they were such happy years really and he wished Adam well for his career. The lads who had never been to Ulvescott were quite overwhelmed with the friendliness and the complete aura of the place, no more so than when our crowd were being shown the Horsebox and Piers' room by Jak and Max on Sunday morning. There were gasps when the original photos of Piers and Miles were seen in place on the wall. Gabe didn't even preface his remark with the customary emphatic expletive. He came up behind Tris and me and put his arms round us.
"You've lived here before. You'll live here again."
No one else spoke but quite spontaneously everyone held hands. The two small boys were there too.
"We'll be with you as well," said Jeremy as he held on to his new uncle, Frankie.
After lunch Frankie said he would show anyone who wanted to go the memorial stone at the church and the dogs' graves. There was a general exodus with young Jeremy, Frankie and the wolfhound leading the way. I did then have a chance to congratulate my very erudite cousin. "Got more news for you," he said after waving away my perhaps too effusive flow. "I asked Jenny Masterton on the QT about the three rods. I had the Colonel's permission. Come into the study and I'll show you." There he found a folder and opened it. He handed a page to me. "Jenny thinks if the rods have anything attached to them they might be representations of scourges. This'll explain it."
I wondered what 'scourges' meant but the note made it clear.
'Dear Adam,
To answer your question about references to St Guthlac
and rods. By rods do you mean staves with attachments like short ropes?
If so, they might be scourges. In the Guthlac Roll there is a roundel of
St Guthlac being handed a scourge by an angel. I believe that part of the
penitential cult connected to the reverence of the saint was self-flagellation.
Also there is a coat of arms which may be associated with Crowland
Abbey that has four quarters, three knives top left, three scourges top right
and reversed below. I have found a copy of that and enclose it as well as
a reproduction of the roundel.
I hope this answers your question satisfactorily. I am
intrigued over your interest and await explication of any further
discoveries made.
Best wishes,
Jenny'
"So, if there are scourges here and scourges there does this mean even more of a connection?" I asked.
"We'll have to get in touch with the Archbishop's Secretary and ask. But before we do that I'll clear it through the Colonel as well. I only received this yesterday morning and with all the shenanigans I haven't had a chance to talk to him properly about it." He smiled. "I get on so well with the pair of them - and the rest of them here as well, and they couldn't be more welcoming to both of us. Nate's just about finished his final chapter and he hopes to present in June. He's going to be on our tutorial staff next year and I have high hopes he'll be appointed to a College post." He looked so happy. "I just hope I can edit these memoirs satisfactorily." He shook his head. "They are so unbelievable. The things both of them had to do, either separately or together, are quite amazing. The big problem is whether they'll be allowed to publish. Even now some of the stuff would seem very sensitive to me but there's more than enough already for a reasonably-sized book. Then I've got to get down to the College research." He wrinkled his nose. "I've even had time to do some of that here as well. I have to wait while they read through and discuss what I've done with their notes so I have time. In fact, this place just lets me write. It's awesome as time seems to stand still while I produce masses of stuff. Nate's the same. He says he thinks he's at least six months ahead and he's got two more articles ready as well about the cellar. He's got copies for you."
Yes, as 'owner' of the cellar while in residence I'd had to give permission for him to write and publish. What a palaver! Nate had said last night he had a couple of things for me so I expected I'd get them today. In fact he appeared at that moment, carrying the younger little boy, Andrew.
"There's Uncle Mark," he said. "Andrew wants you to play the organ again before you go and could he come to the College and see the organ there because he only heard it for the service?" He put the lad down and he stood looking up at me. I crouched down at his level.
"As soon as I finish my exams you must come. Do you want to learn to play?" I said.
He nodded and smiled. "Mummy says I must learn the piano first. It's to do with technique she says." For a four-year-old he seemed most articulate and could also read well as yesterday I heard him ask Frankie what a Quadrille was as he stood by him at the grand piano and Frankie was turning the pages of a collection of pieces.
"Yes," I said, "I started to learn the piano when I was six and a bit and my Mum thought my hands were big enough."
"That's over another year," he said - a budding mathematician as well, "I don't know whether Jeremy will want to learn. He likes computers but I like music." He looked so solemn and confident. "I think I'll go and find Uncle Francis and he can play the piano for me. It's difficult. I have so many Uncles called Francis." He paused. "But only one Uncle Mark." He reached out and patted my hand. "You won't forget will you?" He turned and trotted off to look for the absent Uncle Francis.
I slowly got up. "Was I like that at that age?" I looked at a grinning Nate. "And Adam tells me you have things for me."
He went over to a second desk in the room and picked up a folder from there. "Permission sought and granted, I hope." He handed me the folder. Inside were two neatly typed documents. One title started, 'Hidden wall-paintings in St Mark's College Cambridge', the other 'Persons represented in the wall paintings in St Mark's College Cambridge'. He pointed at the second one. "That one's not finished yet."
I was intrigued with that second title. "I didn't know that you could identify anyone in the originals."
He smiled and went to the desk again and came back with a larger folder and took out several ten by eight photos. "Come over to the desk," he said, "I can show you more clearly. In fact it's something I've only been able to do with Adam's help. That paper...," he pointed at the folder I was now carrying, "...will be in our joint names when it's finished. I made him add his."
He spread out three of the photos which fitted together and showed part of one of the larger pictures as a panorama. It was just the feet of the first three characters which now had the Captain of Boats portrayed as the initial one. Yes! The photos had been enhanced and faint sets of letters could be discerned.
"I thought there were words or something when I looked at my photos and the ones Lenny took. Adam suggested I asked Dude if his police photographer could help." He looked at me. "It was because of what had been seen in the footprints when they were enhanced." Yes, Dude had explained what had been done when we were shown those photos after that death. "Lenny was very helpful and blew up his digital photos and fiddled with the pixels and these are sets of initials. Voila! T J W in the first photo. Over to you, Adam!"
I was peering carefully at the photo. OK, it was probably those letters.
"My job was to look at the College register of students at the time. I found Thomas Jenkins Woodward of Helmingham in Suffolk. I then looked at the Suffolk Poll Book of 1790 and there is a Thomas Jenkinson Woodward, living in Bungay with his freehold property in Helmingham. I guess he was the lad's father. I've still to do a bit more research to check and see what happened to him. I've managed to sort out possible lads associated with other sets of initials as well. That one was easy because there were three initials but most of the others only had two. Ones I've sorted out all seem to be sons of landowners, minor gentry as it were, in Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire and Suffolk. All as one might expect." He looked past me at the door. There was obviously no one listening as he went on, "Proper little nest of sodomy and related practices I would guess with plenty of willing participants."
I pointed at the third photo. "Those seem clearer than the first ones. J R."
He held up two fingers. "Two possibilities there but I think I know who. It could be Joshua Rowland, or Jeremiah Ray. I had a quick look at the lists of errant students in Dr Smart's History and he lists Jeremiah Ray as being rusticated for non-payment of his buttery bill in the month after the discovery of the naked boys in the cellar, which, of course, he doesn't mention. There are others guilty of the same misdemeanour at the same time which would usually just mean getting Daddy to pay up. Two of them were George Sharman and Thomas Maynard and their initials are probably the ones we've found on the other wall. They both came from Suffolk, too, and all returned to College the next term. The others will be mainly guesswork unless Lenny can do a bit more with the photos or Nate can uncover anything else on the walls when he's in College again. Permission for that?"
"I'll get my solicitor, once he's qualified, to draw up the agreement!"
"Sod off, matey, we need it now!" said Adam..
"What do you want now?" Three figures were at the door, Tris, Max and Jak. It was Jak who asked. "Anyway Uncle Sayed says he's always asking questions." He laughed. "About the work, of course."
Of course, it all had to be repeated.
"Never had anything like that up at Sheffield Uni," Jak said. "It's only these hotbeds of vice down South where things like that could happen."
"Sheffield University wasn't even invented then," said Max, "The inhabitants of the hamlet at the time probably practised incest in the fields, when it didn't rain!"
"Bit backward if they had to practise," said Tris, "But then, don't you come from somewhere up North, Max? Proficient?"
"Only child, aren't you Max, old love?" interjected Jak before Max could either answer or move to annihilate Tris, "And I can tell you he's more than proficient. Brought up on a farm, though, and I sometimes wonder..."
Max turned to him but Adam interrupted any reprisals, "I was too, but I had a friendly brother. We had some very pretty sheep, though. Did you Max?"
The battle-lines were being redrawn.
"'Little lamb who made thee?' Always sounded odd. Same for you, Max?" asked Nate.
Max shook his head and laughed. "OK, OK." He pointed at me. "Last one! And your contribution?"
"I suppose with you and Adam off your farms at the moment, 'Sheep may safely graze'."
I must admit I felt rather pleased at the general guffaw even if the pair of them also raised fists which were grabbed by their respective partners - in crime?
It was a good thing that little bit of badinage had petered out as young Andrew reappeared. "Uncle Francis has gone out. Can I hear you play now? On the organ. Granddad says you can." By 'Granddad' I assumed he meant his great-grandfather, Dr Thomson.
Yes, of course. The first piece I played, really for the farm-lads' benefit, was the ninth movement from Bach's cantata number 208. Yes, they all recognised the piece. Their sheep were OK!
Everyone joined up again for tea and then farewells.
More celebrations were held the next Friday. A College Dinner to celebrate the election of the new Fellow. This was held in the new Dining Room and I was very honoured to be invited, with partner, as the invitation was to Mr Mark Foster and Mr Tristan Price-Williams. The student contingent comprised Student Union President, Servant of the Chapel, Pennefather Organ Student, Captain of Boats and Captain of Rugby. I noted out of our little lot I was the only one with a partner, male or otherwise. However, it was evident that Adam had Nate as his partner and two more male pairs of James Tanner with Paul Phillips and another don with his. I wasn't surprised, either, that Dr Alice Anstruther-Lamb had a lady partner with her. The rest making up the thirty included the Master and Mrs Mays, the Chaplain and Mrs Henson, the Bursar and wife, Safar and Cressie and so on, with bachelor dons making up the final balance with Charles as no final lightweight! Good food and fine wine were the order of the evening and it was, again, a very happy occasion. Adam had to reply to the toast and I was very moved with his quiet sincerity. Like any Oscar winner he thanked his family and, especially, his absent brother. I didn't get a mention but got a smile as he raised his glass to toast the College. Others I was most impressed with that evening were the beaming pair, Sean and Curt, who with a couple of other youngsters, kept all the diners fed and watered with such efficiency.
We did meet the 'Hairy Monster' that weekend. Hary Moncrieff turned out to be a delightful young man. I got on extremely well with him, in any case, because his mother had attended all the recitals held in the Chapel and had been very complimentary about all she'd heard. Later we told Raph he should see if Hary was really interested. During the week Raph came in to see me and looked quite ecstatic as Hary had made almost the first approach in asking him if he wanted a boyfriend. He also brought the news that Hary's brother, Franz, was recovering well after the operation and was learning to walk again. He was also pleased with his brother's choice as well. Gabe, of course, put it quite bluntly. "Glad the little bastard's got his tackle tickled regularly now!"
Sadly though, other than a couple of visits to the Club my time at College was coming towards a climax. The Finals. I'd managed to have three extra tutorials with James and had worked with Fiona and Dina quite diligently, comparing approaches and trying to second-guess the examiners. Of course, there were the usual student searches for patterns in past papers and forecasts of the way questions might lie given the interests of certain lecturers. All too soon Monday May the thirty-first came. All too soon the time of one-thirty came when in sub-fusc I joined the other mainly unhappy toilers and turned the page on the signal from the invigilator after reading the instructions which ended with the ominous words 'Write legibly, otherwise you place yourself at a grave disadvantage'. Six questions to be attempted in three hours. Ouch! But I was away. I tackled the Markov Chains question first. It was the first question and half an hour later I thought with my reasonable handwriting it might be OK. Functional Analysis next. Good! I had mugged up as much as I could understand on Hilbert Spaces. I sped on, Groups, Rings and Fields and on and on. Those three hours disappeared in some Black Hole. And that was only the first day. Three more to come before the end of the week.
Our unhappy band of pilgrims marched into town. "No post-mortems!" ordered Fiona, as we crowded into Starbucks. "I need a pee," I said and that almost started a stampede as most who had followed, or were already in, realised their bladders were also ready to release. Anyway, a grande latte later I felt more relaxed. "Not too bad," opined Dina in defiance of orders. I nodded, hoping I had quoted a lemma I had used correctly. "Day off tomorrow," said Fiona.
True. The three other papers were scheduled for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. At the end of the examination on Friday my undergraduate days at Cambridge would come to an end. Three years. What would I have to show for it?
The rest of the week went so rapidly. Others on our stair doing Finals seemed just as dazed as me. As usual there were dire tales of how some poor sod had collapsed and had been led out. Oliver alone seemed serene but we did have a couple of chaste hugs which helped to allay fears and any feelings of distress.
On Friday for two of my four questions I chose essays. It wasn't a sense of euphoria I felt but a feeling of peace as if I was being led through a mathematical maze and quite definitely reaching the centre. I completed all four questions I had chosen but never had time to check over my deliberations. No, not deliberations. There was a feeling of certainty as I wrote copiously, especially on the final question I chose. It was on Number Theory. I'd sketched out twelve points to make including a couple I'd explored myself. I looked at my watch. Just under an hour to go. Even if the rest was crap I knew I would give the old buggers something to mull over with these thoughts. All too soon the three hours ended.
I think there was a feeling of some sadness amongst the little group of Maths students, including Fiona and Dina, I had got to know over the three years as we clustered round outside the exam hall and shook hands and then smiled at each other wanly and wished each other well. I would miss that comradeship. I would miss the two girls especially. Over the three years we three had become almost a little family. Their plans were made. Fiona was going to try the statistical branch of the Civil Service and Dina was destined for another student year at the Institute of Education in London. "I want to teach," she had said quite firmly. That left me. I had done as James had said and applied for Part III.
I wandered to the Porter's Lodge to see if there was any post. Old Albert must have gone to lunch and Liam was there sorting through a pile of letters, flyers, and other assorted mail and poking it into the pigeonholes. I joined the queue and passed the usual pleasantries with others who had endured another morning of exams. Liam spotted me and gave me a grin and pointed to the F pigeonhole. There was an envelope for me. A note from James asking me to see him at three if convenient. Probably no go for Part III, I thought.
I went straight to lunch in Hall but it all seemed odd. I kept thinking 'I'm not a student anymore'. Three years had suddenly come to an end. I plonked down in an empty space having chosen a rather tasty-smelling stew.
"Why the vacant look?"
It was Josh, without Gabe for once.
I managed a smile. "Just post-examination blues, I think. You finished, too?"
"Yes, and before you ask I think I only buggered up one paper!"
Three other voices entered in canon. "You're not the only one..."
Other now not-undergraduates. People I had brushed shoulders with, doing Psychology, Theology, German, Anglo-Saxon, Land Economy, whatever, all now finished their three years. Cheer up, Mark, don't get maudlin. Life begins at twenty-one! The blues lifted a little.
I chatted on with Josh and a couple of the others. He was going to some bash this evening with his girlfriend and... The others had plans, too. Mostly sounding as if a glorious piss-up after a meal would be involved. I thought I would go to the Club, but Tris wouldn't be there. He had another week to go before he finished his exams in London. I would phone him this evening and that would cheer me up further.
But, Term hadn't finished. I still had Chapel duties. Sunday was my turn for morning service but Ben and Gwiliam had said they would help out. I had better check hymns and readings and choose suitable incoming and outgoing pieces. I went into the Chapel and just played. That sense of peace I had in the exam came back. Damn! I'd better hurry. I had an appointment at three. I switched off everything and made my way across to James' room.
I knocked and when he called out I entered wondering why he wanted to see me. There was a young man sitting in the chair by the desk. He looked familiar. James smiled as the lad stood up.
"Jonathan tells me you two haven't met though he's heard plenty about you!"
I did a double-take. 'Jonathan?' Then I twigged.
"You're Jason's brother!" I said and inwardly laughed as I almost completed the statement with Jason's description of his sixteen-year-old brother at the time when Adam made his discovery of Johannes Knottus's exploits. 'Waanker!' I looked and saw a most handsome young nineteen-year-old. Like Jason when I knew him first. Open-faced, smiling, with a shock of dark hair. Wow! I put out a hand and we shook. My, a powerful grip.
Both he and James laughed. "I think Jason has kept him hidden away from College so he didn't get contaminated. I must admit I've known him since he was that high!" That high was about a foot and a half.
"Dr Tanner, please. Dad said he didn't want me to join the usual tribe of Knotts here." He looked at me. "But I think you knew I'm coming here next year - with Jason...."
"...And Jonathan's reading Maths and that's what I want to talk to you about." James waved at two chairs by the desk, one piled with books, the other was clear as Jonathan had been sitting there. "Come on, sit and you can tell me if you agree." I managed to find space on the desk and on the floor for volumes of some German series involving Topology, Riemann Surfaces and Banach Spaces as far as I could see from the Gothic script titles of the top three. "Jonathan completed his A Levels last year so he's been doing some useful work building a school in Burundi for the last few months. Now he's back he's promised to do some Maths over the summer. Next term he's got to have a supervisor and I thought between us you could do most of the work." He laughed. "Other side of the fence and it'll keep your brain active on basics while you toil on higher things."
Me? Tutoring? "But I don't even know if I'll be accepted for next year."
James waved a dismissive hand. "Probably OK. From what I've been told about your efforts so far they just about reach my expectations. Are you willing?"
I looked at Jonathan and said nothing. He leaned forward.
"If you can teach Jase to play the organ you can teach me. He says he's learned so much..."
I held up both hands, palms out, in defence. "I helped Jason but he was good anyway." I felt a real heel after saying that. I didn't mean to put Jonathan down.
But, no. James laughed again. "I think you'll find the same with Jonathan." A quiet 'Dr Tanner'. "No Jonathan, I think you and Mark will be perfect. So, for the second time of asking. Are you willing?" He was grinning broadly. "And I don't need to tell you there's money involved."
I liked the look of Jonathan. No, not in that way. If he was like Jason I would help him willingly, money or no money. I nodded. "OK, I'm willing and I guess I'll have the other one for more organ lessons."
Jonathan laughed. "Jason has just finished his A Levels so he's got to wait. I'm sure he'll be OK, though. Can I tell him about the organ lessons?"
I nodded. "No money involved for those. Just thanks for the way he's looked after me and my friends over the past three years."
James looked so pleased. "I'd better explain. Their father was my gyp when I was a student so I've followed the family fortunes ever since. In fact, I told Gerry to grab their Mum or someone else would. They're my godsons so I hope I'm doing my duty by letting him loose on you."
I laughed. "I'll do my little best," I said and leaned over and Jonathan and I shook hands on that. I looked at James. "Jason never said you were his godfather and I've had plenty of chats with him."
"Jason's a very astute lad," said James, "He's never going to broadcast anything like that in case people think he's got a job, or a place as a student, because of it. Neither of those is the case. He wanted to work here and then Dr Henson suggested he should apply to be a student here. Dr Henson knows I'm his godfather but, again, it was suggested on merit." He wagged a finger at Jonathan. "No gossip!"
"Jason knows what I think of him. He's my brother and we're good friends, too."
"My brother's coming up next year and I think we're good friends, too." I laughed. "Young brothers are funny creatures but I won't go into that now."
"I wouldn't know," James said, "I had two much older sisters and I think we're still friends though I threatened to batter one of my nephews when he was younger many times! Luckily for me he read Classics when he came up and I quite like him now!"
Jonathan got up. "I'd better go, Uncle James, or do I have to call you by your academic titles now?"
James made as if to throw the nearest book. "It'll depend on what the standard of your work is, my lad."
"And I shall be Mister Foster if you're not diligent," I said, giving a faint imitation of a Charles hand gesture. Fist and raised thumb.
He said his goodbyes and left. James looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
"I have high hopes of that lad. Thanks for agreeing to supervise him. Plenty of work. Nose to the grindstone."
I hope my sneer was up to Toad's standard. "I know. My nose is worn right down." I smiled. "But I would like to say how much I have appreciated the time and effort you've spent on me."
A slight wave of the left hand. "We shall just have to wait and see if the effort's been worthwhile. But, I have something else to discuss which is rather important. Again, I think it will involve you." He leaned back and interlaced his fingers. A gesture I knew would involve some rather profound statement to be made. "The evicted student Tristan foisted on us at Christmas..." He saw my rather startled look. "...I thought that would concentrate your attention." He smiled. "No, he wasn't foisted. Jerzy's a quite delightful young man. But, and this is where you might be involved..." 'Aha' I thought so! "...His father is Professor Aloys zum Adamszberh and, believe it or not, he is a mathematician teaching at the main university in Rothenia. Now, he's so pleased his son's been sorted out he wants to thank us all in some way. I've had a very effusive letter from him and he's suggested there could be a student exchange which he would get his university to finance. Apparently he's very high up the academic ladder at the Rodolfer University in Strelzen and from something Jacob found on a website he is likely to be the next Rector of the university. I gather that's like the Vice-Chancellor here - big boss on all the committees. He's suggested that as a start we should send someone out to find out what they can offer and it should be someone who knows what we offer undergraduates here."
OK, James, get to the point. Why discuss such things with me? The answer was coming straightaway!
"Well, I had a word with the Master and he obviously wants you off the premises for the next couple of months...." I was getting used to Professor Tanner's sense of humour! "...as he suggested you. He did remark he has a recording of the grand organ in the Vitali Cathedral and you might wish to hear it in person as it rivals the monster at Passau." He did grin at this point. "Paul dragged me to hear that on the way from Munich to Linz so it was a bit of a detour but it was worth it!" He passed over a piece of paper from the desk. "An invite from the Master for lunch on Sunday to discuss the matter. Are you game?"
What could I say? I wanted to remain at the College. I knew, or hoped, the Master had my best interests at heart from all the vibes I'd received. Rothenia? Cropping up again. A visit? Charles' Ring? I did think of that in capitals. The burnt papers? The body in the Elbe? The 'Guthlac Stone'? The scourges? Was I to experience some masochistic act? Could I say anything about all that? I'd better consult Adam and the Colonel. But...
"As it's the Master I'd better say yes!"
"Good! I thought you would. Paul and I will be there and you can tell us all about meeting the King."
To be continued: