Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
A Sequel
by
Joel
Seq: 31:
Some of the Characters Appearing or Maybe Mentioned: Mark Henry Foster The story-teller: Newly graduated. Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend. Francis Michael Foster Alias Toad/Microbe Mark's younger brother Adam Benjamin Carr Mark's cousin: newly appointed History Fellow Ivo Richie Carr Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat Victoria ['Tory] Carr Ivo's wife George Henry Carr Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son Steven, Dustin, Ginge; Servery lads Horace Saunders Pennefather Organ Scholar 1961-1964 Benedict Saunders His elder grandson: 15 Hallam Saunders His younger grandson: 13 Petroc Parkinson Brother of Philip the Guardsman
Saturday
The trek across to breakfast was not impeded by shards of broken glass, slicks of vomit or drunken bodies and the College fountain was gushing sweet and clean. The Class of '64 were sleeping soundly or were already up and eating hearty breakfasts in Hall. Young Stevie, Dusty and Ginge were serving and were not offering extra cream for cornflakes or coffee, although all three looked appetising enough and could have been served up on platters naked with oranges in their mouths! My rather vivid mental imagery was interrupted by a voice behind me. It was 'Bloody Horry', Horace Saunders as I'd noted from the card he'd given Tris the night before.
"Mornin'," he said by way of greeting, "Good night last night but should have kept off the gravy!" I assumed he was referring to the rather good claret which was still going the rounds when we arrived on the scene. "Glad we met. If you've got ten minutes after this I'd like to ask for a bit of advice. It's my grandson." I said we'd be in my set when finished. He'd already got his breakfast and went back to sit with his mates.
"What d'you think it's about?" asked Tris as we went over to sit away from the oldies.
"Don't know. Better just wait and see."
Just after nine there was knock at the door. It was Mr Saunders. He laughed as he came in. "Looks much the same except I had a coal fire in those days. Some of the other sets had gas and it was laid on here but it seemed more cosy." He stared around. "What's this about a secret door? I didn't bloody know there was a dead body down below, either."
We explained about the organ stops. He just shook his head. "Used to hang my rugger kit and pants and shirts on them to dry. Never really saw them for damp bits and pieces. Couldn't afford to send stuff to the laundry but Gerry Knott was my gyp and used to take the really mucky stuff home to his mother."
'Gerry Knott'! Jason's father. I said both his sons were coming up to College as students in October and I was tutoring the younger one.
He laughed. "What a turn up! Gerry was just a kid. Not more than fifteen then." He nodded. "He was as bright as a button and even then was reading anything he could lay his hands on. Much more intelligent than some of the brutes he had to deal with!"
Oh, I could hardly divulge the information that it was no wonder as he was a descendant of Augustus Pennefather's son by his bedder. Anyway, he opened the door and had a good look round. He said there were conducted tours of the cellars that morning and he was scheduled for the ten o'clock one. He laughed again as I sorted out a postcard of Frankie having his balls fondled, which he'd signed on the back, and said he'd see the original on the wall below. When I explained that Frankie was going to be the next Pennefather Organ Scholar he just about bust a gut laughing.
"That leads me to my real reason for a visit. It's advice for my eldest grandson. He's fifteen and thinking of exams and his father says he should come here after A Levels. It's a family thing. My father was here and was a vicar so that's why money was tight. My son followed me but read Modern Languages and he's head of a school in Dorset. Young Ben's at that difficult age and whatever father says he rebels against. But, although I say it myself, he does confide in Granddad. Like me he's mad keen on fishing and I took him and his younger brother, Hal, up to Scotland at Easter. Had a wonderful time and Ben really opened his heart to me." He looked at Tris and me. "You're together, aren't you? Could see that last night."
"Yes," said Tris, "We are. We don't mind it being known."
He smiled. "Again family. My younger brother lives with his partner. He went to King's in London and read Theology and he's a vicar, too, like Pa was. Gavin, his partner, is a geologist and they and the boys get on so well, too. Well, to cut a fairly long story short, Ben confided in me he thinks he's gay, should he tell his Dad and Mum? My son Brian's a bit strict, must be the headmaster in him. He gets on well with his Uncle but his school was in the news last year because one of the masters had been caught with a lad in Soho. The local paper made a song and dance about it until the editor was warned off." He laughed. "Rumour was he had a certain penchant for doing rather naughty things with ladies. Anyway, Ben's afraid his Dad will be off his trolley if he tells him. He and Hal are coming to stay with us when school finishes in a couple of weeks so he's sure to ask Granddad again!"
"Do you want someone who's gay and younger than his Uncle to talk to him?" asked Tris.
Mr Saunders nodded. "The other thing is the musical side. I think he's good. He plays the piano well, but like most teenagers he has a thing for pop of the more raucous kind. I have the feeling it's to wind his father up and there was a stand-up row just before we went off to Scotland. I'd like him to try for the Pennefather. He's had a go on the organ at the church where I play and he was most competent. Standards, though? In my day it was Grade Eight but I did manage the Associateship after I left."
I looked at Tris. I would leave it to him. "Mark had three Grade Eights when he came for interview then did two diplomas before coming up and his brother has almost the same," he said, "I guess they've set the standard for whoever comes next."
"Three years," I said, "He's the right age now to be ready to follow my brother then."
"I'm sure Mark wouldn't mind talking to him. We're around until August so why not bring them up to see St Mark's. They're too young to see the cellars officially but Mark's got a key for the stair down from here he can use anytime." Tris paused while Mr Saunders nodded. Tris continued, "Mark's parents will be here anyway running a Summer School and Ben will see they're supportive." There were more nods as Mr Saunders knew of the Baroque Orchestra.
So, things were arranged. Agony Uncle Mark would be in demand again!
Mr Saunders had to rush off to be ready for the viewing and we had to prepare for the Invasion of the Triffids as Tris termed them. Soon the usual clatter was heard outside. Dusty and young Stevie had the laden trolley. It was certainly laden. Four piled trays of sandwiches plus an assortment of amuse-bouches, or whatever, were stacked on the bottom with a box of mugs. On the top were cakes and buns of various sorts together with a pile of paper plates.
"Cheffie said I was to leave the crusts on," announced Dusty with a grin worthy of Curt, "Make their hair curl before seeing the cellars, he said."
"And I've got a sore wrist from buttering all that bread," said young Stevie massaging his lower right arm. Poor boy. Given that there were only three or four loaves involved my guess was the major stiffness was due to massaging another stiffness rather excessively. Dusty looked at him rather sharply and I hoped he would comment. Unfortunately, he didn't, but I knew Dusty had reached the same conclusion as I had. It would be instructive to hear their later conversation!
"We'll come back when they arrive and serve coffee," said Dusty. "Cheffie said we'd better be clean and tidy, too. Bit hot at breakfast as they all wanted bacon and eggs."
Would they like to shower and be personally soaped and lathered? Rinsed down with cascades of hot water then rubbed dry with fluffy towels? Gosh! Tris must have the same mental images. Not quite so vividly expressed as mine, though!
"If you like you can have a quick shower here," he said, "I'll put towels out. You can be in and out in five minutes. We'll put the stuff on the table."
They looked at each other and nodded. Tris led them off saying to me 'Won't be a moment' while I contemplated should I subject them to the cold water treatment that Curt got? No. They were young and most probably virginal and wouldn't relish their young attributes being cooled and ogled if they fled the icy downpour! I unloaded the trolley and put a cloth on the table so as not to scratch it with the trays. These I positioned artistically, sandwiches and tidbits to the fore and cakes behind and divided the pile of paper plates into three. All looked most tempting. But where was Tris? Just getting towels?
Tris spent more moments than necessary getting the towels. He was grinning as he came out. "Both the little buggers were going commando under their whites. Heat from the ovens certainly makes for looseness. Not spectacular but well-formed!"
I mentally kicked him for being a spoilsport and not letting me help him fetch towels! I'll get him later I thought. I told him he could set out the mugs ready for coffee.
Five minutes later and they were out dressed in their old whites. "Thanks," said Dusty, "We'll change into clean things over there. We'll be back."
Tris said he would print out a proper list of all the would-be models for the show. I put the bag of undies under the table and played the piano to kept my mind from straying too much to images of some of the younger end at the club and how they might look filling out the scanties!
My concentration on one of the Brahms Preludes was broken by the arrival exactly at eleven of the Triffids led by the Chief Alien himself, my brother. Oh, God, he'd said twenty- five, there must have been nearer thirty as bringing up the rear were Wasim and Kasim. Not a Triffid to be seen. Just a bunch of rather over-awed, well-grown eighteen-year-olds. Not for long. Introductions were made but, of course, most were recognisable as bigger versions of the pimply mid-adolescents they had been when I was a Prefect and they were fourteen or fifteen. I spotted Bozo and Harpo together, with no one commenting on the presence of someone not yet in the final throes of schooldays. The initial wariness evaporated even further as they spied the laden table and heard the rattle of the trolley with the two lads bringing in large thermoses of coffee. Frankie clapped his hands.
"Gentlemen," he said in a most authoritative way, no doubt who was in charge, "Welcome to St Mark's. You all know my brother and Tris. As some of you said on the bus you're not scared of them now and they're forgiven for inflicting lines and detentions and the occasional slap from Tris when somebody wasn't paying attention in the scrum." He pointed at someone who almost rivalled Pugsy in muscly splendour. "Sam says he had a handprint on his bum for a fortnight after he missed a lineout ball. You're out of the firing line, Tris, 'cause he said you did his English homework for him when he was in the Third Year. Sorry Sam, but elephants have long memories!" A raised fist and a big smile. "Anyway Pugsy and I will be here next year all being well and we hope to inherit this from Mark." There was a rising murmur as eyes were still taking in the rather exotic decor. "Now, to business, pay attention at the back! As you see we are to be fed before we go down below and we have to divide into two groups. Those on my right..." He made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. "...will visit the exhibition first and the rest half an hour later. Those still hungry can eat in town and there are plenty of punts for this afternoon. If you get lost we're leaving at six. Meet in that road along the Backs where we were dropped. Same bus, for those that aren't colour-blind it is red and for those who are it's got big letters on the back, Southern Tours." He looked at the group, most of whom were grinning at him. "First, I'll ask my brother to show you the secret door. A big hand for Mark Foster."
I'll annihilate the Toad sometime! Anyway, mustn't delay. I could see eyes were on the mounds of food! I stepped forward. "My welcome to you, too. Sadly, tomorrow is the last day for me in this set. Three years goes very quickly in a place like this. I must say Tris and I have had our excitements and one of the first was when I discovered the way to open the door." I went over and sat on the piano stool. I then went through the story and they were laughing when I finished. I pointed at Sam who was standing looking up at the Gambe stop. "In recompense for the handprint would you do the honours. Gently, pull the knob...." There was a rise in the laughter. "...Listen for three clicks." A concerted 'Wow' as the door opened.
Sam obviously knew the tale. "No bodies in there today?"
"Not unless Frankie gives me too much lip..." There was a 'Hear, hear' from Pugsy's direction and another ripple of laughter. Toad was well-known. "...Anyway feel free to explore in there while you eat, no crumbs though!"
Luckily Cheffie hadn't underestimated the hunger of late adolescents as plates were filled and Dustin and young Stevie handed out mugs of coffee. Wasim and Kasim came across to me both munching on sandwiches and with great grins on their faces.
"Enjoying things?" I asked.
"Of course, what else with him in charge," said Wasim, "He insisted we came and it's been brill."
"Reminds me of our last year at school in Scotland," said Kasim, "We had someone in our Sixth just like him, real Scots but not at all dour." His smile was broader. "A cross between that Curt and Logan with a touch of the Frankie's, eh, Waz?"
I was trying to get a mental image of such a chimera when Frankie himself came over.
"Couldn't have asked for better," he enthused, "Thanks for arranging all this."
I explained that Cheffie hadn't got over the munificence dispensed after the wedding and Charles had done the spadework but he'd better give the two lads something for their efforts.
"Will do," he said, "Otherwise I'll be getting small portions next year." He grinned and whispered. "Have to ask you. Has Tris seduced them or something 'cause they're looking at him all big-eyed like those lads at the hotel?"
I laughed. "Not that I know, but he seems to have that effect on most lads of a certain age." I pointed surreptitiously. "He's got Sam and that other lad hanging on every word and there's almost a queue to get his attention."
"Yeah, interesting," Frankie was eyeing his friends, "Sam asked me on the way if Tris was really gay. Apparently it's been a topic of conversation when I'm not around as he plays rugger and he's friendly with Milt's brother Wesley and he's certainly not. I told him he is and it certainly doesn't bother me." He tapped me on the arm. "I said you and he were very happy together. That's right, isn't it?"
I said we cared deeply for each other and what we'd experienced recently I thought had strengthened it. He nodded.
"Dad said that to me after we left Ulvescott. I only hope I meet someone I can be happy with."
I smiled at him. "You will. You've got time. But you'd better get back to organising, the sandwiches have just about gone! But!" Here I held up a finger and dragged the bag from under the piano. "First things first. Aldo left this lot. I'll leave you to distribute the goodies but tell them no displays." Pity I said that as seeing some of the strapping Adonises in just the minimum would have been eye-candy without comparison.
Organisation was perfect. He took one look in the bag. Assessed the nature of the contents. Clapped his hands again. He certainly had their attention as he held up the packets with their colourful contents. He ripped open one and held up a really snazzy pair of light blue boxers, then another with one of the ubiquitous red silky thongs.
"Just to say these are from my Uncle's latest range. There's a big launch later in the year and you'll be expected to buy everything else." He waved a dark green tanga brief. "Wear them with pride! One pack each and if you think they won't fit exchange them amongst yourselves. "
No general scramble but a quiet murmur as packs were opened and contents held up. I saw Jack exchange a pair of rather large red boxers for a red thong with Sam. Bozo and Harpo were laughing as they matched with mauve tangas. Two other of the lads who were obviously more than friends, but probably hadn't yet come out, were whispering something as they held out their packets. Yes, my gaydar had definitely pinged.
Time was passing rapidly so another clap and half went off with Frankie stuffing their gifts into pockets and Tris and I were left with about fourteen assorted hunks. Yes, all were destined for universities in a few months, as long as the dreaded A Level results were OK. Two others were coming to Cambridge, Pembroke and Emmanuel, two for Oxford, the rest scattered around the country. I knew Jack was destined for University College London but one I remembered as being continually in detention for various misdemeanours said he'd opted for Aberdeen as he was a golf fanatic and the golf courses in Scotland were the best. Whatever rocks your boat, I thought.
They wanted to know more about Cambridge. Also they'd heard about our involvement in things in Rothenia. We knew there had been a long news item on TV with a shot of us receiving our medals but little other detail. Tris went off and came back with our red boxes and we showed them our Orders of Henry the Lion. We just said we'd got involved in helping to rid the country of some nasties. Least said the better, I thought. We had to repeat things when the other lot came back. They were convulsed after having viewed the middle cellar. All had postcards and Tris and I happily autographed the ones showing the dancers. "Bloody Hell!" I heard one say, looking intently at the card with Frankie on it, "Don't know if I'd want my knackers on display like that, but that's going up in my bedroom! I might even scan it and use it as my Desktop!"
After they'd all gone, and the lads had cleared up and left with a ten pound note each tucked in their top pockets, Tris said he couldn't have thought of a better way of ending our years in College. "Funny, as far as we're concerned they're the next generation! A bit like the end of that book Dr Thomson translated."
That evening at the Club we were besieged by those who had now heard about Aldo's visit and wanted to know more, but before that we had the usual welcome from Delon on the way in. Looking at Delon I wondered if Shawn might be persuaded to let Unc design a more trendy bouncer's uniform rather than the black shirt and slacks which seemed to be standard for most clubs around so I almost missed the conversation between Tris and him.
Tris had picked up a book on the chair just inside the door. Delon was a great reader and there was always a tome of some sort ready for him to peruse in quiet moments.
"What's this, Dell?" I heard Tris say, "Still reading about the cinema?"
I knew Delon was a great cinema buff so wasn't surprised.
"Yeah, it's a new book. History of the cinema. Fascinating how many film stars changed their names, you know!"
Tris nodded. "Wasn't John Wayne really Marion something or other?"
"Correct, Marion Morrison. There's a lot more, Danny Kay, Cary Grant..." I zoned in at this point, I knew his given name was Archibald Leach. Delon was listing on his fingers. "...Anna Neagle, Doris Day, Diana Dors, but the most interesting one is that van Lesbian fella."
Tris looked puzzled. "Van Lesbian? Who? Never heard of him."
"You know, he started off as Penis van Lesbian..."
Even I paid more attention. "Who?" I echoed.
"...then changed his name to Dick van Dyke!" Delon roared with laughter as usual when he generally bested Tris in the one-liner repartee.
"Blo-oo-dy hell!" breathed Tris, "That caps the lot!"
I grinned behind Tris's back and Delon gave me a big wink. I would reward that by sending down two drinks tonight!
The place was heaving. Lots in and with all the interest we handed out about a dozen packs of undies and gave Curt, Logan and Raph tops as well. Curt was both bubbly and subdued. Bubbly because Aldo had praised him over his get-up and had promised he could be a model at the show, but subdued in that he was going to be responsible for lunch tomorrow. "Gotta get it right," he said, "It's a straight roast beef and Mr Phillips doesn't want it overdone. I think I've got it all worked out and Lolly's good as sous-chef." He said the last a bit louder and the nose wrinkle was there. So was Logan.
"I heard that, you wee brat!" he said, looking as usual resplendent in his kilt and Jacobean shirt, "I'm nae sous anything. I'll get on with my bits and I told you I want the oven right up while the meat's resting for the Yorkshires!"
Curt looked up at him. "Ooh Lolly, I do love it when you're so butch and manly!"
Logan was not pleased. "Dinna keep saying things like that. People will get the wrong idea. And less of the Lolly!"
Irrepressible. "I like wrong ideas. And I want Lolly all the time!" The grin told it all. Logan couldn't be annoyed.
"Will you get back to serving," he said, shaking his head "There's a queue of orders and Shawn said he'll let us off early."
"Early to bed, eh?" I said, winking at him.
He grinned. "Dinna you start, but I'm so pleased. I hope it'll work out."
Yes, dinner on Sunday was perfect. We cycled there and was met at the door by Jacob with glasses of champagne. Yes, we had to show our medals and Paul said he'd checked and we were now entitled to put OHL after our names as well. James just chuntered and said some of these youngsters just collected letters when someone he knew who'd lectured at London University was just BSc, FRS. The grin on his face was there though.
So that day ended my lawful occupation of the set. I was no longer the Pennefather Organ Scholar, just another student as I would be doing Part III next year with the added pleasure, I hoped it would be, of tutoring as well. Wayne trundled two lots of boxes and bags for us from College to the flat above the offices on Monday morning. No front door entrance. That was reserved for clients of the firm! As tenants we had a back door and three flights of stairs which would keep us fit. Still, the flat was roomier than I had expected. Two bedrooms, a good- sized sitting room, a small room I could have as a study, a kitchen and all mod cons, plus a view almost across to King's. I unpacked and realised this was my home now. When Tris came up at one o'clock he grabbed me and we spent most of his lunch hour pouring out our libations to the household gods as he put it.
As we untangled ourselves from the new bed he had to dress again. "Is this going to happen every day?" he asked, bending down and giving me a kiss, "I'm starving and I stink. Up you get! I need a sandwich and a shower."
The shower worked and smelling sweet and hunger satisfied he said I could have the afternoon off as long as I stocked the fridge and made a list of things still needed in the flat. Hunh! I wondered who was in charge!
The rest of the summer just flew by. We got the flat to the state we wanted it and Sean, bless his heart, kept us clean and tidy and helped us keep fit at the gym we joined. Mum and Dad had a wonderful time with the month of Summer Schools. I dreaded to think what the house looked like with Toad, Pugsy and the Arab pair in residence but Aunty Dil and Mrs Coombs apparently kept them in order. Towards the end of July, while I was working through a paper James had given me to read, I had a phone call from Mr Saunders. He and the boys were arranging to spend a day in Cambridge, would it be possible to meet?
We met during the morning and the boys were delightful. I could imagine the elder one being stroppy if he didn't get his way as he had quite a confident air, but he was also undoubtedly gay. While Granddad and his brother went off to look at King's I sat and chatted to Ben in my old set where Mum and Dad were now staying. He was very open about himself. He'd realised he was only interested in other boys and, although he knew several girls of his own age, he never had any urge to take them out on dates, he just liked being friends with them. He said there were two boys at school he liked particularly, one in his form, the other in the class above. How would he know he was in love? I said that was a difficult question. Best to see first if the boys wanted to be friends and take it from there. He nodded.
"Mike's the one in my form. He likes the things I do. We've been fishing, he plays the trumpet in the school orchestra with me and we both like maths." He paused. He was getting very confidential. "And we've done something together a couple of times...." His voice petered out.
Keep it straightforward and don't ask 'what?'. "Seems promising," I said evenly, "Does he live near you?"
"Next village." He did seem a bit relieved I hadn't enquired further.
"Why not suggest a sleepover, or see if he would like to come to Greece with you." Ben had explained the family were off to a villa on Rhodes last couple of weeks in August. "Can he afford it?"
Ben nodded. "I expect so, his father's a GP and there's just him and an older sister and she's in the Sixth Form." He smiled. "We're both into swimming, too. He's good and he could teach me to be better."
"Minimal clothing," I said. I fished into my shoulder bag. "Give him one of these." I'd put a small selection of Unc's undies in and handed him two packs of the popular thongs. He stared and then grinned, and then blushed. "OK," I said, "You've just imagined what he'd look like, eh?"
He nodded and the blush receded. "He does weights as well. Not much 'cause his Dad says he shouldn't overtrain. He says I should do them as well. Posing in these?"
I laughed. "I guess you'll find out exactly how he feels about you out there. Sun, sea, sand..." I didn't add 'sex' but flicked over another pack. "...And you'd better give Hal this one or he'll feel left out. I think he'll grow into it."
Ben laughed. "He's beginning to grow..." He realised he might be betraying a secret but confidentiality had been established. "...about the same as I was."
"What about the older lad?" I asked.
"I'm not sure. He's Tim Gould and he lives along the road from us." His brow furrowed. "I don't know. It's just the way he looks at me. He's a bit shy but he's very clever."
"Why not ask him to help if you have problems with your homework."
He grinned. "I don't usually have problems."
"Invent something. Say you want to know how a water softener works or something like that." That discussion had taken place as Frankie had described the very upmarket fitments in the latest house Mr Coombs was building and no one there knew how those things worked. Wasim had found out and was now known as 'Prof' on the site.
He laughed. "Could try. But I think I'll keep to Mike first." A minor Toad as the nose wrinkled. "Mustn't be a slut!" At fifteen and thinking such things!!
We then discussed his musical interests. Yes, he enjoyed playing. He smiled when I said about his Granddad's comment about over loud pop. I asked to hear him play. It was the first movement of a Haydn Sonata. I guessed somewhere between Grades Five and Six. I said that when I came for interview I had Grade Eight Piano, Organ and Clarinet and he would have to work hard especially if he wanted to come as an Organ Scholar. He would have to have lessons. No, he didn't go to church, but his music master was organist at a church in Sherborne and he got on well with him. He could ask his father to arrange lessons. Sooner the better, I said, it might smooth your path! He screwed his face up. "You've got me sussed," he laughed. I said it was most important to have a good relationship with his father. I said about Dad and about Tris's father. "Dad's OK," he said, "I think I'm just scared of what he'll think of me."
I said he would only know if he trusted his father. He nodded. "I do, but he is so busy with school. I'll try. Granddad is coming back for a few days. I'll do it!"
Granddad and Hal returned about half-twelve. Ben and I had been chatting for over an hour and he was visibly more relaxed. No questions were asked as young brother was there but he gave Ben a knowing look. As the cellars would be empty of visitors during lunch I showed them how to unlock the secret door and then we went down into the middle cellar first. Both boys screeched which I knew was a general response of the younger visitors, and middle-aged ladies who should know better!
Hal pointed. "Is that your brother?" At thirteen prurient interest was well-established. He looked round. Granddad had retreated to the comparative safety of the large cellar. "Bigger than you, Ben!" I grabbed both before internecine hostilities erupted. "Only jealous," Hal said, "Mine's nothing like his either." I let go and he looked up at me. "You've been talking about things," he said quietly. "Granddad said it was personal when I asked him but I guessed. It's alright, I know he's gay." He put out a hand and grasped his brother's arm. "I'm sorry but I saw what you'd written and thrown away. I wanted a piece of paper and found it. I know about Uncle Steve and Gavin and I love them both. I love you, too, even though you grump at me. And I'm sure Mum knows about you."
I looked at Ben. The tears were there. I put an arm round his shoulder.
"My young brother accepted me, Ben. Hal's doing the same for you. That's a hurdle you won't have to jump."
He sniffed and looked at his brother. "Sorry, Hal, it's difficult. Granddad knows and I'm telling Mum and Dad went I get home." He, in turn, gripped his brother's arm. "Thanks, I'll try..."
Hal grinned. "Don't bother. I get on with you as you are. You wouldn't be the same otherwise."
I hugged him, too. Tears were dried and the two brothers smiled at each other. Granddad, who must have heard that last encounter came through the door.
"All settled?" he asked. "And underneath that picture, too!" He laughed. "And to think I sat up above here for three years and never knew. Especially about the body!"
We walked round and had a good look at the rest of the exhibition. As we went up the stairs at the end, and I'd locked the lower door, young Hal was just in front of me waiting. He was about three steps ahead so we were eye to eye as he turned. "You all beat Ben if that picture's true but I've seen the chart he keeps. Inch bigger since Christmas! I'm keeping one, too!" Young brothers! Bless 'em!! Some of the time!!
Tris was upstairs as we came through the door. I'd arranged that he came along 'using up my lunch time' as he'd said. He hadn't had lunch so we took up Mr Saunders' offer to take us for lunch at the restaurant on the corner opposite King's. The boys had lots of questions to ask, questions about Cambridge, about music, about Tris's job and so on. I think that although Ben knew about his Uncle and Gavin it was good for him to see two younger gay males interacting. At the end of lunch Hal summed it all up. Thirteen with a head screwed on! "I'll make sure he comes here," he announced, "Even if I have to keep him on the straight and narrow. I can nag better than Mum!" Granddad just sat back with a smile on his face.
A few days later I received two letters. One from Mr Saunders thanking me for talking to Ben. He gave no details just ended the letter 'All's well that ends well'. There was a postscript 'Of course, Hallam hasn't stopped talking about the cellars and wonders if there are any more codes to solve if he comes up as well.'.
Ben's was to the point. He said he had talked to his parents and both said any decisions he made were his own and they would be behind him all the way. As long as he knew the problems of coming out at some time they would support him, he was their son. 'Dad even said he was sorry if he got worked up sometimes but sons were supposed to give their fathers hell to remind them they had been boys once! I'm starting organ lessons on Monday!! Mike likes the idea of Greece. Thanks for everything, With love to you and Tristan (and I mean that), Ben.'
I just wondered what it would be like to be fifteen again. No, I was now twenty-one and had my future to think about. I had achieved so much in a few short years. I had a chosen path, perhaps an already determined path, but even though mystery had been my companion I knew that whatever was to come, I must not waver.
The End
This is the end of the present story of Mark and Tris and all the adventures of Cambridge College life - as if it were! I would like to thank all those who have sent messages of encourage- ment for each of my stories. This one, in particular, has produced so many responses from musicians - organists especially - that there is hope out there for Bach lovers everywhere. 'Thass auld Bach" as Georgie said elsewhere!! Some day, some time, perhaps more!!
Messages are always welcome - authors feed on them and need stroking in the nicest possible way. My e-mail address, disguised to prevent spam, is joad130 [at] hotmail.com
With all best wishes, Jo