Aladdin's Awakening by Joel

The Christmas holiday was hectic. We decided to have our first Christmas at home. It meant inviting family to stay. As it happened the O'Briens were going to the Pontifexes for Christmas in Harrogate. They would visit us at New Year. So, we had the two sets of the boys' grandparents to stay from Christmas Eve on the Thursday until the Monday after. Maggy went off to her parents for the weekend so we had to cook and keep house and everyone mucked in.

However, the weekend before, both Lachs and Flea came and stayed. Flea was on leave before going out to Egypt again doing training and Lachs said he was as busy as ever. He had quite momentous news. Audrey was pregnant again. She had been in England again for a couple of months in June and July and, from what Lachs said, she was so pleased to be back in England she had decided she wanted another child. Then in October she had been asked to take over a part in a film as another actress had fallen out with the director. She was particularly overjoyed about it as this would be the greatest opportunity she'd had. After they left us the pair were going up to Chester to stay with their mother and Uncle Edward.

It was strange having the O'Briens at New Year. I felt very much the new husband, on my best behaviour almost. I don't know why. Anyway, all turned out well and we had a super time and saw 1954 in in good style. We had to celebrate one particular event. Pa was in the New Year Honours list again, advanced to CBE, Companion of the British Empire. I saw also that 'Bobsy' Harford was awarded the Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath so he was being rewarded for good works also.

With Mr and Mrs Marcham moving to Ulvescott Manor the house in Kerslake was superfluous, as was the furniture. Anne and I made a trip over and chose a selection of unwanted things, including the large dining table and the dozen chairs to go with it. While checking over things I happened to look out of an upstairs window and saw a rather furtive figure peering through the fence from the house next door where the old Colonel lived. I thought I would investigate and found it was Sam Catt! Released from detention and ignominiously discharged from the Army he was now living with, and looking after, the old Colonel who was getting increasingly frail and forgetful. Sam seemed a changed character and said he'd been forgiven by the family and if and when something happened to the old boy he was going to work on the farm for his cousin Josh. He said he'd heard about me and how I was getting on from Tony as he'd met him when visiting his aunt at Ulvescott. My suspicions were confirmed as he said that Big Jim had a cottage in the village and Tony was living there with him as he found all the female contingent now at Ulvescott Manor a bit overwhelming. I would have to quiz Tony about all this when I saw him next!

Now we were well-settled in we decided as a Cambridge couple we had better start entertaining. Our first venture was at the end of January as we had acquired sufficient furniture now to complete our dining and living rooms. Protocol was observed! Professor and Mrs Johnson with Dr and Mrs Palfrey covered the outside college contingent. The college Dean and his wife with Dr Blake were the within college group. Maggy, Anne and I made up the ten as we thought a dozen might be rather ambitious for our first attempt.

The Palfreys arrived next. Francis knew the youngest Palfrey offspring - a callow youth of at least twenty-two - who we'd employed to do some decorating as he was 'awaiting a suitable opportunity to exercise his skills' - his skills, other than a third class History degree, were virtually non-existent and he was, in the sight of his father, a useless lay-about, although he did, in the end, learn which end of a paint brush to use. He was in the kitchen tonight, handing the dishes to Jem then washing up and keeping the place tidy for Sam, who I had observed was no mean taskmaster.

Francis ignored James' interruption to his flow. “I like Lucius as well. He may not be able to paint very well but he's nice and says he expects I'll be as tall as Daddy. That's Lucius's Daddy, he goes to church,” he continued, as Jem appeared to take the reverend gentleman's coat and hat. “He's got one of those collars round his neck. Same as dogs.”

I looked at Mrs Palfrey who had been standing almost in the shadows listening to the comments from above. Her bosom was heaving with silent laughter. “Joscelyne, my dear,” she called out to her husband, “Our youngest has made quite an impression and your appearance has been noted.” She turned to me. “Our daughter has tried to get him to wear one of those nice neat collars but he says they're too Roman for him and he would feel naked without the protection from the slings and arrows of adversity. Never noticed he was naked without one of those on digs in Mesopotamia!”

I tried to imagine the thin, ascetic-looking clergyman, naked in Mesopotamia. No! Now, Lucius was a different matter. He'd been arrayed in running shorts and no shirt when doing the painting and although the bulge in his shorts wasn't huge he had what one could describe as a very desirable, fuckable body. Slim, well-defined chest, with long, trim, fairly hairy legs and a winsome, shy smile. I think he'd been very much under the thumb of his much older sister, Theodora, and most probably the bodies of his two elder brothers who were real hunks and were both Rugger Blues. I knew Tony had tangled with one of them and had remarked favourably on his sexual prowess. Cassius was certainly a rugger-bugger in name and deed and from what Tony had said was not far short of the Palfreyness of his name! I guessed young Lucius had felt the length of his horse-cock from the fond way in which he always spoke of that brother in particular. The older one, Marcus Aurelius, was now 'something in the City' and was married with two young sprogs, Jason and Troy, while sister Theodora, an image of the mother, ran a very successful teashop in the town.

Jem was the perfect major-domo. Drinks and tidbits were circulated effortlessly as college and university gossip circulated as well. I was aware at one point that Willy had made an appearance and was obviously checking on progress and performance of his proteges. I saw Maggy blush slightly when she also caught sight of him as well. Anyway, dinner was announced and we moved into the newly furnished dining-room. A fragrant soup, with homemade bread supplied, no doubt, by the college chef, was followed by a fish course. Lightly cooked fillets in a lemon and cream sauce with Duchesse potatoes and slivers of carrot. The main course was a venison casserole. This was from a haunch passed on by chef from the renowned Mr MacLeish who was still thanking the college and God that Hector wasn't incarcerated in one of Her Majesty's prisons for having his cock sucked by the policeman's son and was safely somewhere in the bosom of Her Majesty's Army as a Lieutenant and probably having his cock sucked by his batman instead. When the steaming dish was uncovered there were concerted cries of delight. Pudding was a baked apple flan, or a dark chocolate mousse, with cheese and biscuits and a vintage port to follow. I produced a couple of bottles of white wine from Uncle Johann in Switzerland for the fish course but Sam had raided the college cellars and had unearthed a superb claret to go with the venison and a 1935 Sauternes with the puddings. All in all, our first dinner was a pronounced success. The ladies did not leave the table but helped themselves to the port with Mrs Palfrey smoking a cheroot much to Anne's amusement. She announced she had started smoking them while out in the Middle East on digs as they kept the flies away.

When all had gone I went to the kitchen to congratulate the lads. Lucius had finished his chores and was sitting, slumped over the kitchen table, pissed as a newt, having had three glasses of sherry, whatever was left of the claret, following that by a glass and a half of Sauternes and two glasses of port. Luckily, he, as well as the lads, was staying the night. I and Jem helped him to the small guest room. We stripped him off, noting that horse-cocks did not run as far down the family as him, and tucked him up securely in bed. He was mouthing thanks and, as we tucked him in, his hand went straight to his prick and gripped it tight, pissed as he was. Jem tossed his head - we knew what Lucius's nightly activity was!

Anne and I and the two lads had a nightcap before going off to our beds. They were perfection. Their training in college and in the Catering Corps had made real craftsmen of them. Anne asked them if they enjoyed working together and they were very enthusiastic about it. She said they could make quite a substantial second income by hiring themselves out for dinners like this evening's. They said they would have to think about it, they had certainly enjoyed preparing and running the evening. I said we could never have done it without them. On that happy note we went off to bed.

I woke early. Give the lads a treat. I put on a dressing-gown and went down to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, plus toast with a choice of honey or Cooper's Oxford marmalade. At seven fifteen I opened the door to the big guest-room. They were fast asleep, facing each other, their dark-haired heads out from the covers with Sam's head on Jem's shoulder. I looked down on them in the half-light of the room. They looked so peaceful, just as they had those years ago in my bed in Clare. I put the tray on the side table by the bed. I bent over Jem and blew very gently into his ear. He smiled in his sleep and hunched his shoulders slightly and murmured something. I repeated the action and he moved his chest against Sam and muttered. I put out a finger and touched his cheek near his lips. His mouth opened slightly and the tip of his pink tongue poked out. I stroked his cheek very gently and he moved his head towards my finger and his hips started to press back and forth against Sam. I moved my finger towards his parted lips and he licked the tip of my finger and moved his head and began to suck it. He began to pant and move his hips more rapidly. I thought I'd better withdraw or young Sam would be spattered with morning dew!

“I'd better have a pee before I drink any more,” said Jem and pushed the covers back and got out of bed in front of me. He had a semi hardon, a good six and half inches and thick with it. A cock to be proud of and, as he turned, I saw Sam look down at that prized possession and smile. It was his as well and had been shared on many occasions but still aroused his interest and covetousness. Jem rushed to the bathroom and we heard him have a healthy, morning piss.

I nodded. Two nude figures launched themselves on me. I was soon back over the bed, dressing-gown open, then off, and kissed and nuzzled until two eager mouths sucked on me and I shot a hefty load into one mouth then the other. We shared my spunk and two firm bodies lay either side of me moving their hips in unison as I gripped their sturdy cocks and soon, two warm sprays of cum landed over my chest and stomach.

We heard no more until past eleven o'clock. Francis and James had gone much earlier in search of Jem and Sam in their bedroom. Francis then announced that Lucius's room was locked and it sounded as if he had tummy-ache as he was moaning. I said he had probably had too much wine the night before and would need to recover and I expect Jem and Sam were in there looking after him. So, about three hours later, a rather groggy Lucius emerged, sucked, fucked and wanked to instant oblivion with two jaunty suckers, fuckers and wankers then sitting either side of him in the kitchen, plying him with copious amounts of strong coffee before preparing another superb meal from the leftovers of the night before. Lucius sat through lunch and afterwards with a goofy, absolutely satisfied smile on his face.

Two months later, Jem and Sam moved into a four-storied house in Portugal Place and started in their spare time to convert it into suitable accommodation for a tribe of students. Of course, this meant they had to live there to do the work! Their most willing slave, which no doubt was true in more senses than one, was Lucius Palfrey. He, of course had to move in as well, to be on hand, or in hand, or in, or up, anywhere else. His father did remark to me that he was grateful I had recommended that course of action for the lads as Lucius was happier now than he had ever been and wasn't cluttering up their house. Jem always referred to him as 'Luscious' with a twinkle in his eye and Lucius proved to be a most efficient housekeeper for them.

Ma telephoned me early one morning towards the end of February. She and Pa had been at the Opera House the night before - free tickets, courtesy of either John or Tim Parker. Apparently, so she said, at the end of the first act of the opera the elderly Italian conductor did not feel well. There was a slightly extended interval and Tim Parker appeared and conducted the rest of the opera. The audience gave him repeated curtain calls at the end as the performance was terrific. Maureen had told her that the old boy had insisted Tim took over and wouldn't be taken off to hospital until it was agreed. Triumph for Tim, look out for the papers tomorrow as any critics in the audience would be reporting! Next day there were laudatory notices in two of the influential broadsheets, so much so that Tim conducted the other four performances of the opera which were scheduled. Maureen sent tickets for Anne and me for the last night and the applause at the end seemed to be unending. Big headlines about new young conductor! We hoped it would last.

Unfortunately, the news of Tim's boost to his career came almost too late for Lady Bing. She had sent her congratulations but the next week died, aged ninety-nine. A formidable lady but someone who had given great encouragement to a good friend of mine. Both of us were remembered in her Will. Tim was left the Bosendorfer grand piano and five thousand pounds. I was left a thousand pounds - a huge sum, but minute where her total wealth was concerned. Stella, her daughter, moved into Ulvescott Manor and Ashburn Hall was leased to a leading hotel chain who were keen to expand.

Time sped by. Anne and I were constant lovers. We had decided we would like to have at least one child but nothing happened. It wasn't due to lack of effort! Our next door neighbour on one side was Dr Gibson who, although a medical researcher on child development, arranged for both of us to have tests. My sperm count was normal but the verdict was that Anne had difficulty in conceiving. We then heard that Tim and Maureen were having the same problem. I remembered Tim produced little spunk and it was almost the consistency of thick cream. He proved to be OK, again it was some difficulty with Maureen. It was a great disappointment for both couples as the other sisters seemed to have no problems at all. We were lucky. Anne had accepted Francis and James as her own. They had never known their own mother and Anne was now 'Mum' to them both. They loved her and she loved them without reservation.

We had a visit from Tom Buchanan and Betty his wife. He had now left the Army, fed-up with the constant posting from one barracks to another and was joining the police. Following in father's footsteps, or big boot prints rather! Betty was pregnant and looked radiant. Francis was intrigued and was full of questions about what did babies look like before they were born. Where did they come from and how did they get out? A straightforward explanation of daddy being involved and that ladies had a special way out satisfied him though I noted a furrowed brow and expected further questions when they had gone. The way out for Alistair Cameron Buchanan, weight eight pounds six ounces, opened up successfully in June 1954. His cousin, Rory Thomas Buchanan followed three weeks later. As his father, Duncan, said, just in time for him to look after the babe as the school holidays started.

Our boys were doing well at school. James was proving to be as bright as Francis and was certainly not going to be over-shadowed by his elder brother. They were firm friends and it was very touching to see how Francis included James in all his ventures. Francis's best friend was the younger son of the Gibsons next door. Gregory Gibson was about three months older than Francis, shorter than him but with a real personality and nicknamed Grunty as that was what his elder brother called him as he couldn't say Gregory as a young child. Terence, the elder brother, was two years older and had his own circle of friends but kept an eye on both Grunty and Francis at Junior School. James was still a Mixed Infant and I heard Francis telling him one evening in the bath all about the differences between boys and girls and that was just the name of the school so he shouldn't get worried. I then heard James inform Francis that he did have a hole down there whereupon Francis told him all boys had that hole, but what he was talking about was a special hole that only girls have and he was sure that was where babies were put in and came out later. Whether James was satisfied with that explanation only time would tell.

We had plenty of visitors, two especially. As Flea didn't have a permanent home he came to us on every leave and in between times when in England. The boys loved him. He was that very special uncle all boys need to lighten the relationship between father and sons. He never undermined my authority but was always ready to take them off onto the river punting, or for a trip in his sports car, or even just for a rough and tumble on one of the Commons. The other visitor was Lachs.

We thought the birth of Stephen would motivate Audrey into pursuing her career in this country. However, within six months she was off to the States again with the promise of a big part in a film. Within three months of that a so-called 'friend' informed Lachs she was now living with one of the stars of the film. Three months after that she informed Lachs she needed a divorce as she was so much in love with Courtney. It was very difficult for Lachs. She was always in the tabloids over her career and being seen at every function in Hollywood with some new actor or other and now permanently in the company of this latest, wanted, heartthrob. Lachs had to live in the shadows. He told me how involved he was now in counter-espionage and he couldn't be dragged into the limelight over any divorce proceedings. It was all done very quietly. I went with him one weekend to a hotel in Basingstoke of all places. There he purportedly 'slept' with a hired young lady - a young actress 'resting' at the time. A hired private investigator took 'evidence'. A 'Mr and Mrs Smith' had signed in as a couple in the hotel register. That was enough. Actually, Lachs and I slept together, with the PI and the young lady happily fucking in the next room - the walls were thin and her moans of 'More, more, I want more!' kept us giggling for ages. Lachs said perhaps I should go and help out as my prick would be more than sufficient to satisfy any demands she could possibly make. I said being with one of my best friends was quite sufficient for me.

Audrey had taken Penny with her and the news was the poor child was to be groomed for stardom herself. No mention was made of Stephen. Poor Lachs was at his wit's end on one of his visits. I really thought he would have a nervous breakdown soon if he couldn't resolve things. Stephen had a Nanny to look after him and was with Audrey's parents in Surrey. They were getting on in age and really felt they couldn't cope. As Lachs sat and I held his hand during this recital of his worries for the boy, I looked at Anne. There was an imperceptible nod.

There was also some rather startling news as well. Two days before Christmas Eve Lachs said he wanted to talk to me and Flea privately. We went upstairs to the bedroom they were sharing and Lachs said he'd got some news which was quite horrific in some ways but he wanted us to know as it finished off a rather sorry story. He told us that Fitzroy and Castleman had managed to get themselves discharged from the Army and had set up a clandestine business dealing in small-scale armaments. His department had been monitoring their activities and they were so inept all their transactions were followed up without them knowing. They had then got involved in supplying arms to the EOKA terrorists in Cyprus. What the pair didn't know was that the guns involved had been doctored and were inoperable and very dangerous. A couple of terrorists had been killed trying to fire them and a couple of others had been badly injured. The pair had been asked to go to Cyprus by one of the English connections to the terrorists who had told them there would be a big order for them. All their movements were followed except their last meeting. The next day two very badly beaten bodies were found on a mountain side. Lachs said their deaths would be reported as accidents caused by falling off a cliff edge.

I watched Flea's face as Lachs unfolded this tale. He broke down and wept as Lachs finished and I held him tight. They were tears of relief for himself and those other boys who had suffered both at the hands and the pricks of that evil pair. They had engineered their own downfall. Flea said some of his own squadron were based in Cyprus and were in daily fear of their lives and if those two had succeeded in selling arms to the terrorists they might have contributed to the deaths of young soldiers and airman stationed there. Lachs said he had been to see both Mr Fitzroy and Colonel Castleman the previous weekend to explain what had happened. He said he'd never seen two men so heart-broken at the news of their sons' perfidy and wickedness. He had promised them the news would be kept quiet and he knew we would keep all this to ourselves as well. His friend Bradley had been to see the lad who had been raped and he would be seeing the other young man in the New Year. He hoped that the whole episode would be closed.

I commented on the fact that I'd noticed how much more relaxed he'd been since Stephen's adoption had been finalised and how tense he'd been before that. He smiled and said it wasn't only the resolution of Audrey's departure but he'd been the one assigned to the tracking of the hideous pair's activities. The more he learned about them the more angry and upset he got and this had been going on for well over a year. He told us in confidence that they had picked up rent-boys in Piccadilly on more than one occasion, for example, and had raped them quite mercilessly with two of the boys ending up in St Marks with torn rectums but dead scared of reporting anything to the police. He had, as it were, to stand by knowing these things were happening but powerless to do anything as he knew they were traitors to their country as well and would be caught in the end. Finally, their duped clients had taken their revenge. What an end!

Next day they both said how glad they were we could hear that tale together. Lachs had been a little wary of how Flea might have reacted when reminded of those episodes in his younger life. Flea said he was sorry I had to be there but he was so much happier now that it was all behind him and the other lads. He smiled and said he and Lachs had shared their love for each other even more passionately that night than often before now both had had resolutions to episodes in their lives. They both valued my friendship even more now that Stephen's future happiness was assured. The only blight they still had was what would become of Penny.

Our family gathering that year at Christmas was huge. Ma, Pa, the Marchams, Tony, Lachs and Flea. Jem and Sam came with Luscious Lucius and prepared and cooked and then sat with us and all celebrated in real style. Pa and Ma stayed on with an increasingly agitated Pa. All was revealed as in the New Year's honours list there was further advancement. For Services to Her Majesty's Scientific Establishment, Dr James Thomson CBE was awarded a knighthood. So Uncle Dick and Pa were now both Sir. Oh, that meant Ma was now Lady Thomson! Not many people would associate J T Fountain, the celebrated detective author, with her! I did confess to Dr Blake as I gave him a copy of her new book 'Mystery in Limehouse' as a Christmas present. He just rocked with laughter and said that was the most interesting thing he'd heard for a year and wait until he told Buffy Johnson and Jos Palfrey! I wondered then whose hand was behind my appointment?

Our big excitement was the visit we were to make to Rome at Easter. Anne hadn't seen her brother since his ordination and desperately wanted to see him again. So, all was arranged. I had never flown before so this was going to be a great adventure. Flea didn't help as he said there was a general law in physics 'What goes up must come down'! All went well, the two boys were so excited at looking out of the little windows and commenting on what they saw the time flew, just as we did! We had chosen a hotel just off the Via del Tritone, near the Trevi Fountain. Who should be waiting there in the foyer on our arrival but Mike. Still red-haired, stocky and full of life. Francis and James were not taken aback by his cassocked figure, they were used to seeing Dad in his gown and various others in their clerical dress in Cambridge. Hugs and kisses all round and two nephews had a new uncle to add to their list!

Our ten days there was hectic. I think I was more exhausted than the boys who insisted on seeing everything. The boys' faces were a picture as we were escorted by a tall red, gold and blue clad Swiss Guard to Mike's office to meet his boss, the Monsignore. He was just an older version of Mike, cheerful, welcoming and a wow with the boys who were very taken with his brilliant red cummerbund and red buttons and wanted to know why Uncle Mike hadn't got them as well. “All in good time,” Monsignore Vicente said with a twinkle in his eye.

As well as a tour of the Vatican museums and visits to churches, fountains and the ruins of the Forum we had to visit the parish where Mike was attached. It was in a really slummy area but the people we met were cheerful and the reception we got from the parish priest and Mike's horde of youngsters was quite overwhelming. Without a word of Italian, Francis and James were swept away and spent a couple of hours with the kids of about their age, coming back having learned at least three words 'not for polite company' according to a laughing Mike.

Numerous postcards were chosen and sent. We let the boys choose most. They insisted buying a postcard of a Vatican guard for Johann. I did point out he was a Protestant and wouldn't be eligible but James said he thought he would look nice with that uniform and the tin helmet on. I had lusted somewhat after the one who had guided us; he had a certain swagger in his step and had a very trim figure. I could just imagine my well-dicked cousin...... Daniel was sent a postcard of the Laocoon. Whether Francis had a memory of seeing Daniel with his rather larger Gallic cock than the miserable-sized implement of the struggling father and wanted to compliment him, I didn't dare ask. At least the old boy's balls were a decent size. I did notice James peering at the two sons - no doubt comparing their attributes with his own and Francis's. Although they looked teenaged the lads looked as if they had no more to offer than my two much younger sons. Francis tugged at my arm at one point in the museum, after studying row upon row of nude male statues, and stage-whispered the question 'Why do they all have those shells on?' which amused two rather portly American tourists also looking on. I didn't like to say they were probably embarrassed at not having much to show - but then I had never seen a modern-day Greek in the raw, so didn't know if they were as poorly endowed as in the uncovered examples of their ancestors.

Young Stephen was sent a card of a nude statue of Lucius Verrus equipped with a large shell. “Cause when Nanny sees it, it doesn't show his winkle'. When Francis read the name he had a great fit of the giggles and insisted we sent a copy also to Jem, Sam and Luscious Lucius. 'Can we buy him a shell?' I said it was supposed to be a fig-leaf. Then got into trouble from Anne when I tried to explain that a certain Pope didn't approve of his statues and had bits chopped off and fig leaves attached. Ever pragmatic Francis wanted to know what happened to all the bits and that was where Mum stepped in! She said they were probably in the cellars, and, no!, we couldn't go and find them even if Uncle Mike asked where they were!

Oh, when did boys get obsessed with their greatest objects of joy? I had heard great giggling coming from the bathroom one night in Cambridge where I had left the pair in the bath while I went to get fresh towels from the airing-cupboard. On return both had miniature stiffies and Francis announced they were playing submarines and promptly bent his down under the soapy water much to James' amusement who promptly did the same. I said I wanted to see two well-washed hulls and to make sure there were no barnacles on their bottoms. This provoked further giggles with James turning over in the bath to display a rather hot-water reddened backside with the assertion he was sure he had no barnacles. One thing I had noticed was that, even though a year younger, young James was slightly ahead in length.

Another night the giggling was over the withdrawal of immature foreskins. I suppose having a companion could give one confidence over time. I tried to remember back to my own interest in 'winkle' and its covering. Other than a couple or so comparisons with Tony in the seclusion of his shed of the 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine' variety where the comparisons showed we had equal attributes, until that momentous occasion of the joint wank, I couldn't remember much. I suppose I'd handled it so many times when peeing it had just become a natural thing to have. Of course, the main thing in those days it was useful for was pissing competitions. Even then, Tony invariably won, although I could get up a good head. I think he cheated by tanking up with innumerable glasses of water beforehand as he always initiated them! I didn't cotton on to that until much later!

Dr Palfrey was sent a card of Marcus Aurelius on his horse as Francis was fascinated with the old boy's eldest son's name and had met his young sons Jason and Troy. Their favourite, Dr Blake, was sent a card of a colourful frieze with peacocks on it. Francis wrote that these were even prettier than his canary which was sure to make him laugh. Ma and Pa got a rather decorous card of a bit of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel which Francis had announced was a bit too far away to see properly. Willy Roberts and adored Maggy were sent 'Augustus of Prima Porta' as both Francis and James thought the stern figure looked like him. As undergraduates cowered before him it wasn't far wrong.

The highlight of the visit was the private audience, with about a hundred others, with His Holiness Pope Pius XII. As small children were not normally admitted, but had been at the insistence of the Monsignore who was a personal friend of the Pope, young Francis and James were specially blessed as Pius moved along the line. Afterwards, Francis said Uncle Mike, who was there as well, would look good in white. We would have to wait and see if there was ever a second English Pope!

We all needed a rest when we got back so went to Ulvescott to plague the life out of the other set of grand-parents, Uncle Tony and the assorted ladies. The boys slept together in Piers' room with Nanny and Stephen in the Horsebox and Anne and I had the African room. Once again they noted how nice the place was and how they liked it. James whispered to me that he thought the boy lived in the room when they weren't there. How true, because I knew he was there all the time watching over us!

At home Stephen had made friends with the two girls next door on the other side. The elder one, Caroline McIntyre, was just over four and chaperoned him and her younger sister Lisa, also two now like Stephen, and the three played happily together either at their house or in ours. My now sophisticated older boys rather looked down on very young girls and, although loving Stephen dearly, thought he had found much more suitable companions. Francis and Grunty were inseparable and James tagged on as a willing slave although he didn't always let his elder brother have full sway.

Mr McIntyre owned a large shop in the centre of Cambridge and was already in his forties. His first wife had died of breast cancer and he had married Ina, his much younger personal assistant, after three lonely years. Ina was a perfect mother as the two girls had been born when Arthur had thought he would remain childless. His garden was perfection and not made for children so I think he was secretly glad that the girls made our over-large garden, with climbing frame and slide, their second home. We got on well, he shared his gardener with us who grumbled incessantly, but patiently, about the constant tidying up which was necessary. Pa and the gardener spent many happy hours trying to get the 'building site' as Pa termed it into a semblance of order. I said he was only jealous as he couldn't even have a window-box at the flat. He said he had the finest gardens in London across the road and he didn't even have to mow the lawn!

In June, Pa had his investiture at the Palace. I and Ma went to see him dubbed with the sword by the Queen. My proudest photograph is of us three standing outside the Palace with Pa holding up the insignia of his knighthood, the two males in top hat and tails with Ma in a sweeping, elegant long frock. The rest of the family had their noses pressed between the railings of the forecourt and there was a special cheer as we were led to the gate by none other than our escort, Equerry to Her Majesty, Major the Honourable Augustus Lascelles, Blues and Royals, marching stiffly, no doubt because of his leather jockstrap, I thought! He winked at me as we left and whispered 'Tell Marcham to get in touch'.

While in London I went to see Mr Blane, now well-past retirement age, to deliver yet another translated manuscript. I also wanted to discuss the possible publication of a book I was writing. He listened to my description and took the summary I had typed up and said if it was as good as my mother's novels and my translations he would be happy to have it looked at. In fact, Ma's contact with the firm was no other than Kanga who had been recommended by her when he had got his London BA, first class, and was now a valued member of the publisher's staff. He was seeing the second volume of Tony's story, this one 'Not by Bread Alone', through the press at the moment. Kanga also said he and Audrey were marrying in August and had a very nice flat in Bloomsbury which they were already sharing, she was a theatre sister at Great Ormond Street hospital now, having trained as a nurse.

Ma said she had been approached after the success of the film by the BBC about a series of television plays based on her books and any other ideas she had. The contact there was no one other than Billy Clarke working as a junior producer. He and Roddy Smollett, his companion and past fellow Sergeant Tester, were great pals now of Ma and she delighted in their company as they escorted her to plays, concerts and operas when Pa was too busy. They were full of scurrilous gossip about the whole of theatreland she said and if Tony heard half of it he would be writing books for ever! I got the impression when meeting them at the flat one night preparatory to a visit to the Opera House of the five of us, Pa not coming, that they lived a rather 'gay' life. In fact, that was the first time I'd come in contact with that word. If what Billy whispered to me as we waited with drinks in the Crush Bar was true, then half the familiar names and faces in the crowd were actively shagging one another, and that was only the males! He said Nobbo was contemplating marriage, poor sod, and he and Cleggy were now assistant clinical lecturers in the hospital school. I hoped Isabella might provide Nobbo with plenty more orgasms by insertion just as, no doubt lusty-looking Roddy was doing for equally husky-looking Billy.

Towards the end of August I had been sent to the market behind Great St Mary's Church to get some fresh vegetables for the weekend. The boys had walked in with me as I had promised them a trip on the river that afternoon as Lucius was doing a bit of painting, much improved, with Pa supervising and puffing smoke everywhere, and he had offered to punt. We were looking at one stall when someone behind me spoke.

It turned out he had finished all he wanted at Harvard. I knew he'd stayed on to do an MA in symbolic logic and had received plaudits from Willard Quine who wanted him to do a doctorate as well. But Georgie, being Georgie, had returned to his other love, music, and had completed a Master's in Performing Arts and was now in Cambridge having been offered a research grant for a doctorate in some abstruse topic in logical quantifiers or something equally arcane.

After sitting and having ice-creams for the boys and tea for us in Theodora's teashop I asked where he was staying. It transpired he had only been in England a week and in Cambridge two days after a hurried visit to his family at Pinmill. He was holed up in a miserable bed and breakfast place until he got sorted so had an immediate order to get his things and report to our house pronto. Francis and James took it all in their stride, yet another Uncle added to their list to harry and make their slave.

Anne had heard all about young Georgie so was quite unsurprised when I told her he would be staying with us, with her permission, of course. Pa said his voice had dropped a bit since he'd last seen and heard him and he thought he'd grown a bit too. As he was six foot now with a fine tenor voice, albeit with a marked American accent, we had to agree. He said he was engaged to a lovely girl. She'd been on the music course as well and was a superb organist. The photos he had of Beth Cleaver Marshall showed a real beauty. He shyly told us she was the heiress of a department store magnate and they were intending to get married on New Year's Day back in Boston.

That afternoon Luscious Lucius and Georgie shared the punting with Pa, me, Francis and James as passengers. Unruly elements standing on King's Bridge were grabbing at the punt poles of unwary punters as they went under the bridge. Georgie was an experienced sailor, that is in sailing boats. This was his first experience of trying to steer a straight course on a crowded river standing at the rear of a punt so was not ready for the pole to be grabbed from his hands by two hulking yobbos. He overbalanced and fell in the water. Pa, unwisely, stood up to remonstrate with the attackers and to try to wrest the pole from their grasp. Sir James Thomson also ended up, arse over apex, in the water much to the amusement of the crowd of onlookers and his grandsons who thought it was great fun but then got rather concerned. Lucius, much more experienced, grabbed the pole and dealt the offenders a blow apiece which set them off swearing, then deftly hauled two sodden figures, luckily just in shorts and shirts back to the punt. Other punters assisted and the bedraggled pair were pulled up onto the bank to a great round of applause. The two yobbos were frog-marched over by a couple of even bigger rugger types and made to apologise before they were also upended into the, thankfully, not too-deep water.

Pa thanked his rescuers and suggested to one rather comely young lady that he thought his half-drowned companion could do with some artificial respiration. Having seen the clinging wet garments outlining his well-built figure I don't think he would have wanted for volunteers for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. However, he sat up and said he wasn't half-drowned, only pleasantly wet. I think that disappointed quite a few onlookers, female and male.

At the beginning of September I had a most surprising letter from my cousin Daniel. Intrigued by the strawberry birthmark he'd been asking more questions about his own family tree. He had discovered the real missing link - something which completed the jigsaw. I was related to Piers also in another way, and, thus, so were Daniel, Johann and my American cousins related to him as well. We already knew that Piers' grandfather, Colonel Percival Crossley, had married a Louise Elvey. Old letters and documents in the safe at Ulvescott had revealed this. What we didn't know was that she was French and.... was a great-great-granddaughter of dear old J-A Leferreur through his other daughter, Louise! There must have been some interactions between various members of the families during the 1840's and onwards which had long been forgotten about. In any case Louise had died soon after having her only son and the Colonel's career took him off to India for the rest of his life leaving Ulvescott and the very young son in the care of his brother Joseph who never married. That young son became the General! That also explained why the portrait of Agnes was at Ulvescott. So, the birthmark came through our French line and explained why Piers had it as well. When I told our neighbour, Dr Gibson, he smiled and said `an inherited factor'. Nobbo and Cleggy had been right!

Tony's second book came out in October to the equal critical acclaim he had seen for the first one. I heard from Ma that sales were greater than expected and Mr Blane had urged him to complete the third volume detailing the families and their lives during the past War. Tony had said it was all written in his head and he just needed to get the rest of it onto paper. I only wished I could write as fast as him. In any case, he was free of encumbrances like tutorials, importunate students, family and the need to publish papers which all kept me, happily, busy. I tended also to write in my head as I walked to college along the Barton Road and down Fen Causeway in the early mornings and typed up drafts of what I thought about later.

However, all these things paled into insignificance when the Suez Crisis erupted also in October. Flea was in the thick of it. He and his squadron were flying sorties destroying ships and fortifications and he told me later he had never been so scared in his life. He was a Squadron Leader now - one of the youngest and, obviously destined for great things. Lachs kept us in touch with him and was a great support for him. Both brothers had a very emotional reunion at the beginning of December and Flea took a long leave and stayed with us until the New Year.

Then, also in November Dr Blake dropped a bombshell. He was now coming up to eighty and still working and enjoying it, but, and it was a big but, his sister was insisting he retire and write up the lectures he'd been giving on medieval aspects of French Literature and he had agreed. That meant a search for a possible Fellow in Medieval French. The only possible one in my mind was the Jewish chap who had survived the War in a monastery in France. Dr Blake agreed and I found myself on the selection panel. There were three candidates this time and all had impeccable qualifications. I was most impressed with a man who had just finished an immense thesis at the Sorbonne, he ended up with a Chair somewhere else which he'd more or less been offered anyway. Then, taking into consideration the rather brash, off-hand manner of the second candidate who liberally dropped names, both academic and social which cut no ice with the Master especially, we kept coming back to the very erudite expositions of my favoured candidate, Dr Levine. In the end he got an unanimous vote. I knew Dr Blake would be both pleased and proud.