8.    Eating, Drinking and Revelations


We went downstairs about seven fifteen.  Tris winked at me.  "I'm eighteen next week so I'll be a proper man then, but I'll see if I can order drinks now.  Gin and tonic?"  I nodded and

went and sat in one of the very comfortable armchairs.

     Tris was soon back followed almost immediately by a young waiter carrying a tray

with two gin and tonics on it.  He placed them before us with a flourish and a smile.  "Enjoy

yourselves," he said.

     Exactly on half past the three others appeared.  Adam and Ivo were wearing matching

roll‑neck sweaters and very tight, well‑cut dark cream chinos which really showed off their

perfect figures.  Charles was an absolute picture.  His mane of hair was tied back in a dashing

pony‑tail held by a silver ring.  He was wearing a high necked black jacket of a soft velvety

material with matching trousers.  His dark red shirt must have been silk and the neck of that

was fastened with a silver clasp matching the pattern etched on the ring holding his hair.

Both Tris and I were in our Sunday suits so were dowdy against the peacock. We stood and

shook hands all round and I noticed that his rings were different, less gaudy but very classy.

No sooner had we sat in a companionable small circle than the young waiter brought three

more glasses and the attendant tonics.

     As he set them down Charles looked up at him and raised his left hand and touched

his thumb and first finger together.  "As ever, dear Benjamin, perfection itself.  And you are

well, I trust?"

     The young man smiled, "Of course, Charles."  He looked across the table where he'd

placed the drinks.   "Hello, Ivo.  Hello, Adam.  Enjoy your evening everyone, George will be

around soon with the menu and wine list."

     Tris and I must have looked a bit puzzled as he left.  Ivo laughed.  "Benjy's one of our

lot.  He works here a couple of evenings a week to supplement his grant.  It's getting very

expensive these days to be a student.  Luckily Dad says it's cheaper for us to be here than

when we were at school so we've only had to deliver pizzas a couple of nights."

     "Luckily Mother has only me to subsidise," said Charles, "But I suppose I could find

some small task to perform if circumstances did become a little straitened."

     Only Mother and Charles?  I opened my big mouth.  "But don't you have a sister?" I

asked.

     There was a moment of silence.  "Oh, you mean Clarissa," Ivo said and looked at

Charles.  The side of his mouth twitched.

     "All those lovely photos.  You've noticed them?" Adam chimed in from the other

side,  "Clarissa's a real beauty, isn't she?"

     His smile broadened as he looked from me to Charles.

     "Alright you two, I'll put the poor dear out of his misery."  Charles turned to Tris.

"You observed the photographs as well?"

     "Yes," said Tris, "I also assumed they were of your sister as there was such a family

resemblance.  Are they of your mother when she was younger, or a cousin?"

     Charles looked from Ivo to Adam then held up both hands and pointed from one to

the other. He chose Ivo.  "You may tell."

     Ivo smiled.  He looked from Tris to me.  "The truth is that Clarissa is Charles's other

self.  His alter ego.  Clarissa is the greatest star the Footlights have ever experienced and

there are many who do not know."

     Both Tris and I were goggle‑eyed.  I think we'd both experienced female

impersonators on the telly but nothing as stunning as in those photos.

     "I hope my secret's safe with you?  I prefer to remain a little incognito as there are so

many of the rougher element who would take delight...." he said smiling and raising his

hands.    "...but I have my faithful band of admirers who take good care of me."  He looked at

me.  "Your dear cousins penetrated my defences when I suffered an unseemly onslaught on

my way back from locking the Chapel one night..."

     "...Yes," said Adam quietly, "Some of the less‑disciplined of the rugger crowd

thought Charles was fair game for a spot of rough and tumble and chased him across the

quad...."

     "....I fell and these two young Galahads quelled the mob and helped me to my rooms.

There I recovered while Ivo prepared that panacea for all ills.  Adam saw the array and

guessed my little secret because I had performed my humble impersonation of Helen of Troy

for the Footlights Revue  the week before."

     "You brought the bloody house down," said Adam admiringly, "I have never laughed

so much.  And you had that big boatie in all that armour clanking around the stage as Paris."

     Charles waved a deprecating hand at him.  "Hush, dear, let me continue.  While we

sipped our tea I unburdened my secret life.  Nothing too sensational, just a meagre talent to

amuse."

     Adam grunted.  "Sensational's the word!"

     At that moment a waiter, I assumed was George, appeared with the menus and the

wine list.

     Charles took the wine list.  "Perhaps, I'll tell you more later, but now to much more

important things.  You chose your courses and I will advise on suitable wines."

     Both Tris and I chose the Game Terrine followed by Noisette of Lamb en Croute

while the twins had the Potage and Venison.  Charles stuck to fish, a salmon dish followed

by fillets of plaice.  He ordered the wines.  I gasped.  Four bottles to cover all the

combinations.  Not to worry, tomorrow was Saturday and, anyway, I needed to relax.  A light

Cotes de Rhone, a St Emilion, a Chablis and, for the twins and their venison au daube, a full‑

flavoured Shiraz.  As the meal progressed and the wines flowed so tongues loosened.

Charles was full of tales of his exploits as various reincarnations of film stars or historical

beauties.  His acting debut and realisation of his prowess came early on 'at my rather down‑

market and depressing school for the cast‑off sons of the lower orders of the gentry and

trade' as he put it.  According to him he had been cast as a ravishing Viola in Twelfth Night

at the age of fifteen followed by an equally alluring Portia the next year but he said his piece

de resistance was the seductive Titania  in A Midsummer‑Night's Dream in his final year.

     "That nasty Bottom, though!  I had to subdue him as he got quite, quite carried away

on our grassy knoll."  He shook his head and waved his left hand, his fork speared with a

morsel of his salmon.  "Young Mountfitchett thought he was in Heaven I'm sure....." He

lowered his voice.   "....A total virgin as far as sweet young things of the opposite sex were

concerned I'm quite certain, so he became more than aroused that dress rehearsal when he

saw me for the first time in my diaphanous disguise.  He positively reeked of adolescent

hormones I'm sure, but he didn't attempt those actions again.  I clutched and squeezed and

he yelped and my pretty young acolytes had to minister to his hurt pride as best they could.

He said words that sweet William never penned and dear Mr Jenks was mortified and had to

be comforted by yet another sip from his ever‑present hipflask!" 

     He ate the piece of salmon and was nodding to himself.  I couldn't help watching him

surreptitiously.  He looked up. 

     "That reminds me, dearest ones," he said pointing to Ivo and Adam, "My next

creation is Cleopatra and I need two adorable young Greeks as my faithful and lusty

attendants and you will fit that bill so admirably.  Mother has provided me with suitable

tunics."  He looked from one to the other.  They remained silent.  "A veritable Achilles and

Patroclus, I am sure.  A few more dark curls  which I can provide....," The fork performed

another revolution.  "....all caught by a golden circlet and you will be perfect..."

     "....But," began Adam.

     The fork was waved again and the smile was fixed.  "....But me no buts," he said,

rivetting Adam with his stare, "I am fully aware of such connotations that the more scholarly

might read into such a pairing but you will be ideal.  We will rehearse in Dingley's abode on

Tuesday evening at eight and we will be on stage on Thursday.  If all goes well then the May

Ball will be our next venture."

     Adam looked at Ivo who nodded.  That was fixed, too.  A little sting for divulging

who Clarissa was, perhaps.

     Tris looked across at me and opened his eyes.  He'd also realised that Charles Fane‑

Stuart was not to be trifled with.

     "Now dears," said Charles, "No more about me."  He looked from me to Tris.  "Tell

me about yourselves."

     What could be said about two rather ordinary English schoolboys?  Tris explained we

lived next door to each other and had known each other for a very long time, that we went to

the same school and spent a lot of time together.

     Adam and Ivo kept quiet but waited.  Tris looked at me and I nodded.  "In fact, Mark

and I are together," said Tris, "We intend to be together always."

     Charles looked from Tris to me.  "I knew that as soon as I met you both."   The

beautiful smile appeared, "May you always be happy."

     "Amen to that," said Ivo and raised his glass.  Adam sitting next to me put down his

knife and held my arm.  "I second that," he said.

     Over the main course Ivo and Adam led the conversation.  I learned snippets about

life in College, the friendly enmities between the boaties and the rugger‑buggers and the

harassment of those seen to be too serious, or too work driven.  I was rather amazed when I

found that Charles was reading Philosophy, but then how would I judge someone else's

intellectual powers?  Adam had his History and Ivo was reading Modern Languages, French

and Spanish.  I knew this from their interests of old.  Tris and his intended Law was a family

thing.  Would I be any good at Maths?  I suppose we would learn and develop our own

strengths.  I had my music too.  That set me wondering again.  What had Charles called

himself?  Servant of the Chapel?

     In one of the lulls, after Adam had been chiding Ivo over some misplaced kick for

touch in their last match as an example of his lack of attention to fine detail, I looked across

at Charles.

     "You said you're the Servant of the Chapel.  What did you mean?"

     "My dear, not me again surely?"

     "You haven't said anything for at least five minutes," said Ivo, wrinkling his nose.

     "Touche, sweet one," said Charles, "Thank you for timing me."   He looked at me.

"Take no notice of our banter.  I will continue after that interruption!"

     Ivo rolled his eyes to the ceiling and Adam chuckled.

     "To begin at the beginning, I hold a delightful post instituted in 1530, even before

naughty Henry started his rampages against the Vicar of Rome and cut off all those heads."

He parted a succulent looking piece of fillet of plaice and as if illustrating his point sliced it

in half.  "As far I know I am the hundred and fiftieth holder of the illustrious position ever

held by those unblemished by the sins of avarice, envy or sloth according to the later Statute

of 1648.  I have no idea what happened to the other four sins, I must assume they fell by the

wayside over the years."

     "Especially lust," said Adam, "Pinch‑Bum said it was the major force which kept the

coffers full in the early days of the College."

     We must have stared in wonderment.

     "Yes," said Adam, "All the monasteries were filled with those younger sons who

couldn't aspire to inheriting their father's riches and lots came here to be instructed in law,

theology, medicine and so on and every time their inclinations got the better of them and they

were caught in the arms of the ladies of the town, or even pleasuring themselves, they were

fined.  Because they had no money their fathers were sent the bill and rather than getting the

rapscallions home again they paid up.  He said the College archives have plenty of records,

even saying where and what the lads were doing."  He looked at Ivo.  "Dad wouldn't be

pleased with you, dear brother, eh?"

     "Speak for yourself!  Anyway, it would be you in the monastery, you're the youngest

and your habits don't bear looking at!"

     "Hush, dears," said Charles wagging his fork, "Boys will be boys."  He looked over at

me.  "All I do is keep the Chapel and its activities ticking over with the help of that assistant

Porter, naughty young Knott."  He chewed another morsel and shook his patrician head.

"That boy!"

     "Anyway," he continued having devoured all on his plate, "When Henry got rid of all

the monasteries we were flooded by the dispossessed and there were plenty who didn't like

the idea of changing their religious allegiance.  Lots went to the continent but others stayed

here hoping they wouldn't be denounced."  He looked at Tris.  "You know what Priests'

Holes are?"  Tris nodded and had a look of interest on his face.  Adam gave a more than

audible snigger.  Charles looked at him scathingly.  "My dears, take no notice of him," he

shook his head, "He may aspire to intellectual pursuits of the highest order but his mind

remains with that of the common herd here somewhere between the  rugger touch‑line and

the sweat‑stained bottom of the Fifth Eight's boat, and there's nothing lower than that!"

     "Never heard it put so well," said Ivo, "Bravo!"  Adam just grinned.

     Charles bowed his head and anything further was interrupted by George who wheeled

up two trolleys.  One with a tempting array of sweets and puddings and the other with an

extensive selection of cheeses.

     Charles was not to be outdone.  "My dear George I believe you have a delightful

Sauternes  you  recommended when Mother was staying here and that Graham's '68 Vintage

for the cheese."

     George bowed, turned and snapped his fingers.  Benjamin took orders and as we were

all choosing the sweets we wanted  first he returned bearing two bottles.  I'd never had

Sauternes before and that silky sweetness complimented the creme caramel I had chosen to

perfection.  But it was the heady fruitiness of that vintage port which completed the meal for

me with those snippets of cheese I selected.  We took our glasses back to the comfy circle of

chairs and sipped our port and had coffee as well.  An evening to remember.

     "You don't have to return home early tomorrow," Charles said to Tris.  "Come across

to the College in the morning and I'll show you some of our subterranean treasures.  They

say the old place is well and truly haunted and I wouldn't be surprised."  He turned to me.

"Perhaps you would like to play under less restrictive conditions."

     So, we agreed.  Coffee at ten in his rooms then a conducted tour and I would finish up

the morning with a farewell burst on the organ.

     It was near enough eleven o'clock when we bid goodnight to the trio as they left.

Charles's bill for the wine must have exceeded the total cost of the food itself but he

produced a Gold Card and that was that.  We thanked him profusely but all he said was that

such evenings should be repeated regularly and he had enjoyed himself immensely.

     "Come along, my dears," he said to Ivo and Adam as we said goodnight in the lobby,

"Let us depart and I will divulge some of the little secrets for our performance next week."

He turned to Tris and me.  "Farewell, until tomorrow, dear souls."

     We didn't say anything to each other until we got to our room.  Going up I had

decided I was pleasantly full and although having had the best part of a bottle of wine I was

just in a very mellow mood.  As Charles had said, it was such an evening which I would love

to repeat.  If this was all part of growing‑up I couldn't get enough of it.  But then, it had all

been subsidised.  Tris's dad had footed the bill for the hotel and the meals and Charles had

forked out goodness knows how much for all the wine.  Tris was in a thoughtful mood as

well because as we prepared for bed and set out all our stuff ready for packing in the morning

he was ruminating on many things.

     "That Charles," he began as he came out of the bathroom, "I've never met anyone

like him."  There was a pause.  "Do you think.....?"

     I turned towards him having just put a couple of shirts I hadn't worn carefully at the

bottom of my bag.  "....Is he like us?    You mean gay?"

     "Um," was the monosyllabic response.  Tris was silent again for a few moments.

"But we don't act like that, do we?  Can anyone tell if we are?"

     "I think the act's put on a bit," I said, "In fact, I think it's his way of showing the

world he doesn't care what anyone else thinks."

     Tris hadn't witnessed the complete scene between Bryce and Charles, and Charles

from his reaction to Ivo's question wasn't keen to share it.  But, I had to tell Tris what I'd

seen and heard.  It was Charles' reaction which had convinced me he wasn't some 'prancing

ninny' as I'd heard one of the Sixth Formers describe a well‑known television personality.

"You didn't hear what that big bloke said this morning, you know, the one who came out

when we were waiting for Charles to lock his door?"

     I then told Tris the whole little episode and how Charles had stood his ground.

     "Yes, but I can't make him out.  He's got Ivo and Adam twisted round his little finger

and I wouldn't think they'd have anything to do with him if they didn't like and care for

him....   ....You don't think they're...?"

     I shook my head.  Adam had told me at Christmas both he and Ivo had caught up for

lost time the second week of joining the College and had been 'round the houses more than a

couple of times' since.  In fact Adam said he'd beaten Ivo as he'd fucked three different girls

from either their or other Colleges at parties and Ivo had only experienced two, but what they

were getting was regular.  I told Tris this and he said he wasn't surprised but... ...he'd just

wondered.

     It was my turn in the bathroom and I looked at myself, standing in the nude, in the

long mirror.  I didn't think people would immediately assume I was gay, nor that Tris was,

either.  We were accepted at school.  Only once, Tris said, was any remark made in the

changing‑room when he was going into the showers.  Some wag had said he was glad he'd

brought liquid soap in case he dropped  a bar in the shower.  Tris said that Chris Thomas,

their tight‑head prop, had then deliberately got under the same shower‑head with him and

said there were some stupid fools around.  As far as I was concerned I was quite oblivious to

any of the common homophobic remarks which seemed to be standard when adolescent

males were together.  I knew they weren't directed at me in particular, just at anyone in

range, probably to help that person to establish in public he was alright, OK.   I'd read in a

book on adolescence I'd bought in a charity shop that the majority of teen‑age boys had

experienced some form of homosexual behaviour so I could but assume those lads who made

remarks were feeling a bit of guilt and had to work it out on someone else.  Yes, we were all

'wankers' or 'tossers' but few seemed to admit it though they used those words to describe

everyone else and I suppose Tris and I came into the categories of 'arse‑bandits', 'poufs' and

'benders' but what we did together seemed no different to us than the largely imagined, I

assumed, contortions and conjunctions of those more‑or‑less heterosexual defamers.

      I smiled.  I was glad I was me.  I expect I would suffer sometimes but Dr Al‑Hamed

had guessed from my reaction to that chord and he was accepting.  I think Professor Tanner

knew as well.   His smile was enough for me to know there was no condemnation.  Ivo and

Adam accepted us and they were super‑macho, even if I, Tris and their schoolmates had been

part of their teen‑age same‑sex experiences.  I didn't doubt that if they were tempted they

wouldn't indulge again.  Perhaps more unwillingly now since they had tasted other fruits on

the vine.  But from what I'd read in novels and newspapers, when there was no female

company then the males took whatever was on offer.  I was still waxing poetic towards

myself, thinking great thoughts and staring at myself when Tris put an arm round me.

     "Come on Narcissus," he said kissing my shoulder, "I need you in bed."

     He led me to his bed this night.

     "I want you to sit and face me," he said, "Sit across my legs.  I need to look at you.  I

want to look into your eyes and I want to tell you how much I love you, but I won't be

speaking."

     We arranged ourselves and I sat as instructed.  We placed one hand on the other's

shoulder to steady ourselves.  We stared into each other's eyes and our hands explored each

other's upper body.  Caressing and stroking our chests.  Just touching our nipples and circling

them.  We both shivered as we did that simultaneously and smiled at each other.  Our gaze

was still fixed as we explored each other's pecs, then our ribs and onto our firm, if full,

stomachs.  I knew my prick was at full attention now but I didn't break my concentration on

Tris's blue eyes to inspect his condition.  I felt the soft hair which trailed down from his

navel and he stroked my own dense black trail.  It was then I was aware of his aroused state

as my wrist touched the end of his hard erect tool.

     "Wait," he said softly, "I want to touch your lips with mine."

     We slowly drew our torsos nearer, still firmly rooted as we had started, until our lips

met.  I closed my eyes as his mouth opened and my tongue touched his.  I always found this

to be so sensuous and I could feel that familiar urge begin deep in the root of my shaft.  Our

tongues gently duelled and I was rotating my head to get as much pleasure from those

muscular movements.  We drew apart slightly and Tris whispered, "Just hold me.  I'll come

with you just holding me, I know."

     Still holding on to each other's shoulder our right hands circled each other's iron‑hard

rods.  I couldn't stop myself.  I pulled down on his velvet‑skinned shaft.  I pulled down

harder and harder so that his foreskin was stretched down further and further.  He knew what

I was doing as he repeated the action on me.  Strong young right hands forced the other's

skin so taut, both experiencing the most exquisite pain which was so, so desirable and so, so

intense at the same time.  Our left hands drew our shoulders closer again and we kissed and

our tongues duelled more vehemently as I pulled down about four more times even more

sharply on that thick young weapon.  Tris almost convulsed as spurt after spurt of his

priceless boycream jetted up, hitting both of us under the chin and cascading down our necks

and chests.  Not to be outdone, as soon as he'd recovered, my cock was almost brutally

jerked  down and up no more than six or eight times.  I stopped myself screaming out by

mashing my lips to his and pressing my chin against him.  The pain was so exquisite, so

sensual, so exhilarating, so overwhelming.   My flood was like nothing I'd experienced

before, too.  I held onto his shoulders with both hands as my prick jerked and thrashed of it's

own accord in his grip.  New streams of warm, pearly boycream joined the others already

there as I pumped out in great jets all that was stored.  Slowly we bent sideways and

straightened out, torso to torso held tight by our encircling arms.  We fell asleep like that and

slept for several hours until, twitching and shivering we awoke, now sticky with our almost

dried fluids.

     Tris reached out for a duvet and pulled it across us.  He kissed me softly on the lips.

     "A night to remember..." he murmured as we fell asleep again, side by side, hands

lightly clasped.

     Tris woke first and must have been to the bathroom and washed some of the residue

away when he came and woke me with a shower of butterfly kisses on my cheek.

     "I won't and can't say how beautiful that was last night.  I shall just remember those

feelings we must both have had."

     "We.....," I murmured half awake but still bathed in that after‑glow of some immense

experience even after all those hours past.  "We....," I repeated, "Oh, Tris, it was both of us...

...so together."

     I put my arms round him and felt so emotional I wept.  "I know how you feel," he

whispered in my ear as he held me to him, "I hope we'll have plenty of other times like that.

The last two nights have truly taught me about true, deep love.  Let's make a pact.  If either

of us is angry or upset about something that's quite trivial underneath let's just remember

these two nights as part of the real and proper start to our relationship.  I feel we're different

even after just these two days.  I think we've both grown up a great deal more....     ....Do you

agree?"

     I stroked his back.  Yes, we'd already experienced many, many occasions when we

had raised each other to pinnacles of shared joy, but I think the episodes of the past two days

were equal to that day we first consummated our love for each other.  Yes, that afternoon and

these past two nights were turning points and grounding‑points for our relationship.   I knew

we had the means to give each other the greatest pleasure, but I also knew life was more than

that.  We needed to support each other.  I expect we would have our sadnesses and upsets but

I could see that Tris would be a rock.  I hoped I could be the same for him.

     "Tris, these last two days have been so unreal but so rewarding.  Whatever happens in

the future I want to be with you, I want to be yours and I want you to be mine."  I felt for his

hand and gripped it.  "The pact was sealed last night as we slept together but just to make

sure I hold your hand and swear my love."

     "Let's not get too romantic," he said, but gripped my hand in response  "I'm sure it

won't all be a bed of roses.  I know Mum and Dad have their rows and disagreements over

things and I expect your Mum and Dad are the same."

     I nodded.  I remembered a monumental scene a couple of years ago which scared me

stiff.  Whatever had sparked it off I never knew but the atmosphere in the house was electric

for a couple of days.  I knew Mum had a fiery temper underneath, she wasn't always

sweetness and light with us boys if we transgressed her quite strict rules.  Dad always said it

was her Italian temperament and that was what attracted him to her.  Things cooled later that

week and Frankie and I were dumped next door while they went off for a weekend

somewhere.  I did hear Dad say sometime later that the weekend was good but proved rather

expensive as he'd had to tell the orchestra manager he would be absent for a couple of

concerts and they'd had to hire a deputy.

     We showered and made ourselves presentable again.  Tris's Dad's expensive splash‑

on masked any lingering sexual aromas and we remembered to rumple my bed to make it

look slept‑in.  We might return someday and we didn't want knowing looks from the

chambermaid or the receptionist who Tris said probably kept a black book of strange guests.

     I'd packed long before him and was reading another few pages of the Stephen Saylor

book..  I held it up when he looked across inquisitively. "Rubicon," I said, "First page it says

about someone 'built like a Greek statue and just as thick'.  Better tell Ivo and Adam that!

They're thick...," I grinned at Tris.  "....in the right places, though."

     Tris grinned and put his first finger and thumb together and made a wide circle which

he jerked up and down.    "'I remember them well'," he warbled to the well‑known tune, "

'Those favourite things'!"  He looked at me and chuckled.  "Pity we can't be here next week

to see them perform.  I wonder what they'll have to do?"

     "And what will Charles do as Cleopatra?"

     We both shook our heads in wonderment and went down to breakfast.