Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:

Mark Henry Foster                           The story‑teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar 2001
Tristan (Tris) Price‑Williams            His well‑proportioned boyfriend
Francis [Toad] Foster                       Mark's younger brother
Ivo Richie Carr                                  Mark's cousin:  chunky and cheeky with it 
Adam Benjamin Carr                         Ditto, as his twin
Oliver Jensen                                    A Musical undergraduate with allure
Matthew  Thyssen                            Another organ scholar [1999] studying English
Drew Penry‑Jones                           A third organ scholar  [2000]  studying Natural Sciences
Rev Dr Basil Henson                        A very astute Chaplain
Dr Eric Mays                                     Master of St Mark's College
Fiona McKenzie                                A Mathematical undergraduate with presence
Dina Patel                                         A Mathematical undergraduate with prescience
'Tory (Victoria) Machin                      A good friend of Ivo's and a true bluestocking
Aubrey Fullerton QC                         A celebrity Law don
Mrs Miranda Fullerton                      His motherly wife
Mr Simon Finch‑Hampton                A two‑faced History don
Dr Safar Al‑Hamed                           A knowledgeable Music don
Professor James Tanner                  A formidable Mathematics don
Bradley Wolstencroft                        A Detective Chief Inspector, a leatherman off duty [Brad]
Dudley Woolpit                                 A Detective Sergeant, a leatherman off duty [Whippet; Dude]
Carl Bachmann                                 A Detective Constable, a leatherman off duty [Carlo; Batman]
Francesco Matteoli                            Designer and uncle of Mark and Francis
Aldo Leopardi                                    Companion of Uncle Francesco with a surprise in store
Mirabelle Fane‑Stuart                       Mother
Edward Jensen                                  Oliver's younger brother with extra allure
Brinley (Harry) Potter                         An unbright boatie:  Dead

     Sunday went swimmingly, at least the morning did.  We were up and about early ‑

both sporting our usual morning hard‑ons.  I was firmly admonished to keep my hands off.

The pleasure first was in the running.  Whatever happened after was added delight.  I pouted

and asked what happened if I stumbled and fell and twisted an ankle?  The Master had

commanded me.  Wasn't that an overriding factor?  I was kicked unceremoniously out of my

lovely bed and four minutes and a difficult piss later was tucking my rampant shaft into my

new jockstrap and pulling on my rather fetching new very short dark red running shorts.

There was a tap on the outer door.  Tris, already arrayed in all his loveliness, opened the

doors.  A vision, also arrayed in running togs, stood there.  Oliver was ready.  Tris was ready.

I sneered and tied that second bow.  The three of us stood in a row.  Three visions of

loveliness.  OK, two and me.  Tris smacked my backside.

     "Right, off you go, you're leading us today.  Same route as yesterday but you judge

how much further."

     Right, I thought, you virtuous fuck‑pig, bastard of the ninety‑ninth order, twat of twats

and c...  I couldn't go on, I just giggled and set off with the two of them following.  There

wasn't a howling gale, just a chilly Cambridge October breeze, I ran steadily listening to the

pair following about six feet behind.  I wasn't bad, I felt, a steady pace, breathing deep ‑ after

about half a mile I did feel an ache in my side but took several deep breaths and it went.  OK,

we passed the earlier landmark and I still felt fine but better not press my luck.  I saw a hedge

ahead and that was my goal.  We had gone on about a further mile.  I turned on my heel and

was rewarded by a couple of smart slaps as we ran back.

     "You shower first," I was commanded, this time not by the Master, but Tris.  Actually

we all showered more or less together, only two getting in the cubicle at a time but dripping

on my floor.  Three very happy lads, all with hard‑ons up to our navels.  Still dripping, we

stood in a row and three right‑handed lads let forth their morning loads within moments of

each other straight into the cubicle.  We stood and grinned at each other as our cocks now

flopped and we grabbed the towels I had left hanging the day before.

     "First time I did it like that was just before that PE master said the three of us were

well‑made.  We'd just done it so we were still rather psyched‑up.  What a memory.  I've

thought of that occasion many times but we didn't dare repeat it until after he got the push,"

said Oliver, "Thanks, I needed that.  I've often wondered if I'd ever stop especially if I ever

reached eighteen!"

     Just as when Tris and I had had those wonderful experiences with the twins  I had felt

no embarrassment, no nervousness ‑ we were friends all needing that sublime release.  I

wondered though if it would lead to more?   If it came to it, no doubt Tris and I would feel

the same about Oliver as we did about the twins.  We were able to share ourselves to a great

extent, but there was a limit, or, perhaps a barrier, of some sort.  I knew what it was.   I

looked at Oliver, then at Tris.   I liked Oliver, but, I loved Tris.

     "That wasn't  the only time?" Tris asked.

     Oliver shook his head.  "No, the three of us had a pact.  Just us and no one else.  Last

time was the last night before we left school."  He smiled.  "Before that we just watched each

other.  That last night we actually helped each other.  First time anyone else had ever done it

to me and it was twice that night."  He looked from Tris to me.  "I will never forget that.  It

was something I'd always dreamed of.  I'm not asking you for anything more but you'll see

that I don't come to any harm if I try to find someone."  He looked rather sad for a moment

or two.  "I thought last night I might have found someone.  That Dave's terrific but as we

danced we did talk and he told me he was really in love with Carl and it was breaking his

heart.  I could feel it was.  He said that dancing with me up close was helping him, but..."  He

smiled.  "I was so pleased when Carl wanted that last dance with him.  I'd like someone like

Dave or Carl," He put out both arms, "Or you two!"

     What could we do but hug him.  Three, nude, happy young men.  Tris pecked him on

his cheek.

     "You'll have to have every possible one vetted by us," he said, "If they're well‑hung,

wash regularly and know how to make a good breakfast you might get a look in once we've

worn them out.  Now my friend here, who qualifies on all three criteria, will demonstrate his

culinary skills as soon as he puts a suitable pinny on.  Get to it, Marky."

     Ouch!  I'll have to tell him to go easy on my bum.  That's more than one red hand‑

print I'd have showing if my still rather deep tan didn't hide them.  Anyway I went to the

bedroom and put on a pair of Matteoli cargoes and a deep rust‑coloured Matteoli top.  Oliver

had trotted off and returned very spruce‑looking in the same sort of gear but not Matteoli.

Tris had opted for an old rugger shirt and mucky looking cutoffs which I had noted had

already migrated to a shelf in my wardrobe even after only three days in College.

     "Have to have something casual to wear around the house," he said when I remarked

on his cavalier attitude to my space.  "You can leave what you like upstairs, but I prefer you

naked up there!"

     Oliver laughed.  "I think I prefer him naked, too, except I would spend all my time

staring at him."

     "Don't tell him that, his head's big enough as it is.  But I agree, he does stand a

glance or two, now and again."

     "If you want any breakfast, cut the cackle and get the table ready," I said, "And I'll do

scrambled eggs with a bit of that smoked salmon in."

     That shut them up and we were soon tucking into the grub.  Once finished Tris and

Oliver went off to get ready and I got out my new suit and my ARCO gown and hood.  I'd

asked Matt about wearing it.  I knew that other universities' academic dress was rather

looked down on but he said he always wore his, just in Chapel, so we would match.  He said

Drew resolutely refused to wear his as he said it was elitist.  Actually,  I preferred my ARCM

hood, it was a bit more colourful against the black with the crimson edge of the other.  Still,

there was I all arrayed in my glory when Tris and Oliver came down in their shorty

undergraduates' gowns.  "You'll get fitted out with your choir robes and surplice before next

Sunday," said Tris to Oliver, "All plain today."

     I looked out over the organ loft rail and watched as a horde of students and others

began to enter the chapel.  I had timed my Bach so was ready and playing when Matt came

up.  "Master's just in," he whispered as I got to the final page.  At the end I slid off the seat

so Matt could start the first hymn after the Chaplain had welcomed all.  Everything went

smoothly and then after the final hymn as Matt slid off one end of the bench I slid on the

other.  'All pistons go!' and I was off.  Matt stood and watched as I played and was laughing

as I played those last two bars.  "Best I've heard," he said, "That Bombarde's my favourite

too!"

      We switched the motor off and went down.  The congregation hadn't all dispersed

and the Master was chatting to everyone around.  When he spotted Matt and me he came

over and said how much he enjoyed the hymns and the voluntaries.  "I want to put the Chapel

on the map a bit more, recitals, perhaps a readings and music evening.  You plan and I'll

agree.  Your father and mother coming will boost things I'm sure," he said to me, "But it'll

be a team effort.  Come over to the house on Wednesday for dinner and we'll discuss it.  See

the other one and ask him, too."

     Matt and I looked at each other.  The Master was obviously getting niggled by the

opposition and we were enlisted!  As he left us Fiona and Dina came over with Tris, Oliver

and the twins.  Ivo was accompanied by a young lady not, I would say, beautiful, but

strikingly different in looks and demeanour from any other girl I had seen so far.

     Ivo was almost diffident in his introduction.  "Let me introduce my very great friend

'Tory," he said, "She's reading French like me and we share interests."

     I was waiting for some comment from Adam about the interests as I realised this was

the girl with whom Ivo was smitten.  Wisely Adam kept his mouth shut as we were all

introduced to her.  She explained her name was really Victoria but her young brother had

called her 'Tory when very young and it stuck.  I knew why Ivo was smitten.  One realised

she was very clever, but not in a pedantic pompous way, in short, she was stunning, not only

as a person but academically as well.

     "As soon as you get sorted we're all going in for lunch.  Jason's saved us a table,"

Adam said.

     I sat between Fiona and Dina at lunch and while Dina was chatting to Tris next to her

Fiona asked if I'd read through the lecture list.

     "I had a quick look, but I've been rather busy with the music and sorting myself out,"

I said, "I saw there are about seven courses we have to take and I'm not sure about the

computing, or the grading, and it looks like loads of lectures."

     She laughed.  "Over two hundred hour long lectures I think," she said, "And on

Saturdays, too!  Dina and I are going to make a team for discussion.  Want to join?"

     I said I'd better as what I'd read in the syllabus seemed formidable.  I said that

although I liked Maths I hadn't got much confidence.

     "One of the Second Years told me if Professor Tanner's your tutor he must think

you're OK and he's considered to be an excellent tutor," she said and laughed, "And Dina

and I have decided as he'll be tutoring you, you can pass on his wisdom.  I found last year at

school, explaining things to someone else made it seem clearer and made it stick.   First

lecture's at ten tomorrow, don't forget!"

     After lunch I checked the lecture list carefully.  Oh, my God!  Nine or so lectures a

week and two scheduled supervisions, plus the work involved in doing the problems set, my

time would be parcelled out and I had my other duties to perform and I wanted to be in the

orchestra and there was Tris and the others....   I looked at three pages of notes and a couple

of problems Professor Tanner had left for me in my pigeon‑hole.  It wasn't so much the

problems but the notation was new.  Yes, he'd explained it but was I doing it correctly?

Would I ever be OK?.....  I opened another envelope.  Another couple of pages 'Sets' this

time.  I found the textbook we'd been advised to buy.  I read the opening chapter and

breathed a partial sigh of relief.  I'd come across one or two of the ideas before, but......  I

turned the page....

     "What's the matter, Marky," Tris said as he brought a pot of tea into my study at four

o'clock.  "You've been in here all afternoon and I haven't had a peep out of you.  I've

managed to sketch out a response to a most contentious litigant and other than saying a good

kick up the bum might sort the matter out a bit quicker I think it's OK."  He took one look at

my morose countenance.  "Leave that and come into the other room."

     We went into the main room and he actually cuddled me as if I was a five‑year‑old

with all the cares of the world.  I had all the cares of the world, my little world and I hadn't

even started, yet.  I said I felt unworthy, I didn't know any Maths, I'd better go home.

     "You bloody great fool," he whispered in my ear as he held me tight, "You haven't

even started.  How do you think I felt last year and I never had anyone here to talk to.  The

first three weeks I could have given up any time.  Mrs Fullerton saw I was a bit low one day

when I went to their house for a tutorial and she gave me a motherly talk and said her

husband or she were always on hand.  They were and they helped.  You've got me this year.

I don't know any bloody Maths but we can always talk.  Come on, spit it out, we're all in the

same boat."

     We clutched each other and I did feel better but I knew I needed more confidence.

We went across to Hall for early supper and we went to bed early and lay and loved each

other.  "I didn't have all this last year, either," he said as we exchanged the last kiss before

sleeping.

     I was up first in the morning.  It was my turn to wake him, already clad in my running

gear.  I reached under the duvet and almost yanked him out of bed by his hard‑on.  "Bloody

hell!," he yelled as his feet touched the floor as I assisted him with my other hand round his

butt.

     "Come on, tardy‑bum, the morning's here and we're off for our run, remember?" I

had great delight in saying.  Wrong thing to say as within a few minutes, with Oliver arriving,

too, we were off with Tris in the lead.

     "What did you give him this morning," Oliver panted in my ear as we almost sped

along by the Cam, "Bloody dynamite up his arse?"

     "He's just showing off he's all boy," I managed to say while drawing in deeper

breaths than I think I ever had before.

     We turned at the point we'd reached the day before in what must have been record

time.  Oliver and I took the grin off his face as we each gave him a resounding slap on his

backside as he turned.  "I'll have you two fuckers for that," he mouthed.  Good job he didn't

say it too loudly as three young lady runners came up and passed us.  They smiled sweetly,

but were safe from rape and pillage as we followed a slightly slower Tristan back to College.

Oliver declined offers of a shower and breakfast and went off up to his room.  We showered

together in my cubicle.  As we finished rinsing I turned the water off and dropped to my

knees.  "Let's see if you really are all boy," I said and sucked him dry.  He wrapped a towel

round me and almost carried me to the bed where he had his first cream of the day.

     "Think of that, and more to come as the saying goes, when you're little brain gets

tired today," he said and kissed me and passed some of that cream to me.

     The day passed.  The two morning lectures were packed with information and I

scribbled down all the stuff on the boards and annotated it with the lecturers' comments.  I

picked up the worksheets and sighed a sigh of relief.  I suppose I had taken in a quarter of the

exposition but I realised that it did make sense.  Fiona and Dina were quite upbeat too,

though we saw a few weary looking mentally challenged warriors who frowned and made

faces whenever a new concept or line of reasoning went up.  I had sat between the two girls

and I think the three of us felt quite virtuous as we compared notes as we walked back from

the Mill Lane rooms.  "We've all got a tutorial at two, so let's meet up at four to compare

notes."

     OK, I would be entertaining females in my rooms but I invited them.  I said I had a

dining table we could sit round.  That was that.  Professor Tanner at two was very supportive.

I confessed I had doubts ‑ not quite the same as the confession to the Chaplain ‑ he laughed

and said how did I think he felt when he had to lecture on the stuff or give a paper on

something he thought he might have discovered.  Right, the hour became an hour and a half

and I came out feeling I had learned something.  The hour and a half with the girls meant we

had solved all the problems set and we had explained things to each other and I thought they

would stick.

     Tris came back from basketball practice as they left.  As he was still in long shorts

and a skimpy top he got an appraising look.  "I'm off‑limits you know," he said to their

laughter.  "We know and we're a bit envious," said Dina, "But at least he'll share his brain

with us if not his body!"  I blushed.

     After the meal in Hall I invited Oliver to join Tris and me for a chat about the day and

have a snifter of the brandy from the almost depleted bottle.  Oliver was all praise for Dr Al‑

Hamed and he'd met his wife who was also an oboist.  Ah, ha!  I needed three oboes for

accompanying an aria in that Christmas Cantata!  He thought he would be kept busy and I

said I didn't think, I knew!

     We were disturbed by a thump on the door.  Tris got up and opened it.  There was a

clinking sound as Ivo and Adam came striding in with Sainsbury's bags and then stood

looking at us.

     "Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentis!" intoned Ivo, holding up a bag

which looked as if it held two or three bottles.

     "...And he means the big hairy ones with moustaches, and they're only the mothers!"

said Adam, laden with two bags of packs and packages.

     "OK, OK," I said, "We all did do some Latin and you look less Greek than those odd

shaped creatures with little willies on their vases."

     "Never seen a Greek willy," said Ivo, "Only those Italian sorts on you and Nesto and

you'd need more than one of those little fig‑leaves to cover your modesty."

     "Thanks," I said, "At least you recognise greatness when its born and when its thrust

upon you!"

     "Now, now," said Adam, "You're letting family secrets out in front of the little'un

here.  Still, what I remember about him he's probably grown even more since then."

     Tris had taken one of the bags from Adam and was peering into it.  "What's all this?"

     "Well, having eaten you out of house and home we thought we might use some of

Adam's hard earned cash to replenish stocks and then if we come running with you we can

all have brekkie together, eh?"

     Tris and I looked at each other and then at Oliver and we all nodded.  "I'll chip in,

too," said Oliver, "I think I know where Sainsbury's is."

     "And what were you doing, sweet one," Ivo was looking at me, "with delectable tottie

surrounding you this morning?  You were spied on King's Parade practically being devoured

by two heavenly creatures...."

     "....You've met them, Saturday evening, Fiona and Dina," I interrupted his usual

exaggerated story.  "I wasn't being devoured, just being escorted so I wouldn't be picked up

by some rough boatie who might want to ravish me."

     "In your dreams, sunshine.  They're nice, though....., Adam!" he called to his brother

who had gone through to the kitchen with Tris, "You could do worse than toss your cap in

the ring for either of that pair...." He looked at me.  "D'you think they'd bite?"

     "Having mixed your metaphors, I don't know.  I have no idea how girls work." I

laughed, "And from what you've said in the past, even with your experience, you find it

difficult to know what's coming next."

     "Am I being discussed?" said Adam coming back in bearing a tray with glasses of red

wine on it.  "I heard you.  Yes, either, but I'm resting at present.  Too much work and no time

to play.  Simon has set three essays to be completed in strict sequence and quickly and it

means hours in the Library.  I need to keep up my grades if I want to go on with research."

Adam being serious for once was new but I had formed an opinion long ago there was a very

bright person underneath the joker.

     We sat and savoured the wine, plus a plate of tidbits they said were half price as the

sell by date was today.  I had noted that Ivo hadn't commented on the 'Simon'.  Then Ivo

looked at Adam.  "Tell them what you found out when you were on that building site job."

     Adam looked at Oliver first.  "You heard about the two deaths here last year?"  Oliver

nodded.  Adam then looked at Tris and me.  "I didn't tell you all this when we were in Italy

but from what Whippet said to me on Saturday evening when we were leaving I think it may

be important.  I want you to listen and see what you think."  We all took a sip of our wine

and waited.

     "When I was on the site down in Wales I shared a caravan with another lad.  He's up

at Durham doing a Masters and, like me, was earning a bit of pocket‑money.  He was a big

lad, bigger than me and he really did work."

     "Get on with your tale and stop blethering...  Big lad was he?  You like big lads.   I

bet the caravan rocked at night a bit, eh?" said Ivo.

     "Shut up, I'll tell it at my own speed and for once be serious!" said Adam, "This is

interesting and you said so, too, when I told you."  Suitably admonished Ivo sat back,  "To

continue..., what he said was that he had been at a Public School in the neighbourhood, same

name as the village we were staying in, Llantrimeric.  In fact, the houses we were helping to

build were on a piece of land the school had sold off.  You could see some of the buildings

across the valley.  He'd read about Brinley and that he'd been found drowned and he said

he'd been at school with him and he was a bit of a clot and easily led.

     "He did tell me one story which was rather horrible.  He said just after he'd left there

was a great kerfuffle because three or four of the Sixth had been out running and had found a

local lad in the woods and for a bit of a lark had tied him up and the story was a couple of

them stayed behind and  just about raped him or something.  He'd heard about it from a

friend who was still in the Sixth at the time and he said everyone in the school knew who was

involved and it seemed he did as well but he didn't tell me.  The kid's parents kicked up a

stink but nothing could be done as no one owned up and there was no more evidence, but the

kid was really mentally battered as well.   Apparently he was about fourteen or fifteen at the

time and was a very clever lad as well and it all just about sent him round the bend.

     "I said I knew Jeremy Foskett who had been at school with Brin as well.  Without

prompting he went on to say there was quite a lot of drugs in the school and he had the

impression that the Honourable Jeremy might be involved as he often visited the school even

though he'd left some years previously."  He laughed.  "I got the impression the school was

renowned for thuggery, druggery and buggery from all accounts.  Anyway, he said Foskett

knew Brin in any case because they lived near each other and Brin had been his fag when

he'd been in his first year at the school.  Quite a tale."

     It was and we were all silent.  "Tell them what Whippet said," said Ivo.

     "Saturday night you were all looking at Whippet's bike and he said to me that he'd

like to come and talk to us about Brin again as there was some new evidence which had

cropped up just a few days before.  Should I say anything about the rape of the kid?  Do you

think it's important?   It doesn't seem connected, does it?  From what Darren said Brin

wasn't involved I'm sure but there's something odd about Jeremy."

     It was a puzzle.  We chewed it over quite a bit.  I think we came to the conclusion

that if Whippet raised any questions about kids being sexually assaulted then Adam should

say what he had heard.  But, how far was the story true?  Could the kid have made it up to

cover his own sexual explorations?  We'd all read about fifteen‑year‑olds  hanging

themselves in search of some weird sexual gratification.  Also, Jeremy seemed more the

drugs pusher as he was very interested in his money and, we thought, any other drugs which

Brin might have been looking after for him.  Did someone know about Brin and the drugs?

We didn't know.  Wait and see what Whippet had to say.

     I think we were all a bit solemn and just slightly pissed as we had to open another

bottle to pass the next hour.  It didn't stop Tris and me performing a slightly athletic pas de

deux, clinging to each other rather tightly and giggling a bit on his narrow bed.  Again the

rumblings and rushings in the wall happened about six o'clock but we were more intrigued

than perturbed and got up at half six and five of us went off for the run.  "No nice fifteen‑

year‑olds for you to have your way with this morning," I whispered to Tris as we passed two

large young men who would have made mincemeat out of us if we'd attempted to pull their

shorts down over their meaty thighs with evil intentions.

     Lectures, working problems, discussion with the girls, another very worthwhile

tutorial with Professor Tanner, so the week passed.  Dinner at the Master's House was not as

formal as I would have thought.  His wife obviously knew the best way to a boy's heart was

through his stomach and we had a good, substantial meal, served by Sean, and plenty of

discussion.  Actually, Drew wasn't as abrasive as I thought he would be.  He drank water

rather than the very nice wine and remained relatively silent and looked rather twitchy and

not really paying much attention while the Master outlined his plan using the Chapel music

to raise some needed funds for the College and to get rid of the rather third‑class image we

had in many university minds.

     "This College," the Master said, raising his glass and swirling the contents, "Has

always had the reputation of attracting the cream of the country's young men."  He

considered the contents of the glass and smiled  "Yes, rich and thick!"  I hadn't heard that

one.  "As you are aware this government is trying to manage the entry to universities,

especially those that are seen as elitist."  I had the suspicion his gaze was then directed at

Drew.  "We have been instructed to widen our input and there have been repercussions

already.  We have relied very much in the past on various families who have sent generations

of sons here.  It was their generosity which has kept the College going.  We desperately need

money for repairs.  The Chapel is funded almost entirely from the Pennefather Bequest but

we can't be seen to do expensive work there when we need accommodation for more

students.  We are in a cleft stick.  If we don't have a few places for those families then their

benefactions are likely to cease.  The Lloyd's fiasco dealt us a dreadful blow.  A number of

our prime contributors came to sorry ends with that.  So, in common parlance, every penny

helps."

     He looked at me.  "Your father's generous offer is a start.   We also want to use the

Chapel resources more.  The Christmas celebrations will draw in some other funds."  He

laughed.  "Entry will be free, but we might put the rugger team on the door on the way out

with collecting boxes!"

     "Eric!"  His wife said.

     So Dad's recital was the first big venture.  The Master said he had already contacted

him and Dad had suggested it would be an all‑French recital.  Dad had arranged the date with

Roger, his usual accompanist, and Safar said he was rather glad as it would have meant a

good deal of practice for him.  I guessed anyway what the main piece would be.

     Both Matt and I agreed we would give Wednesday evening short recitals, free, but

with a retiring collection, without the rugger team!  "At least the organ is well‑known and

that should draw in the cognoscenti," the Master said.  Even Drew said he would arrange a

'recital' with his group as they were getting quite well‑known in the 'more forward‑looking

churches around' as he put it.  The Master said the Chaplain's secretary would be our liaison

and main organiser.  "Mrs Davies is most efficient," he said.  So, I would have to start

practising in earnest!

     In the meantime, Charles was getting frantic, hands flapping, mane swirling.  His

arrangements were meticulous but, what would happen if?....  I found Mum, Dad and the

Toad were invited, too.  Posh!  Staying at the Garden House with Unc and Aldo!  Tris had

Whippet's phone number and we arranged to keep out of Charles' way by going to the club

on Friday night.  Whippet said he hoped Brad would be there too and if Tris got fed up with

me he'd be first in line.  I felt flattered.  I liked Whippet,  he had flair... and, of course, a fine

sense of judgement!

     We kept the alcohol intake level down as I didn't Mum and Dad, and especially Toad,

to see me with another hangover.  Brad was there and the twenty‑pound notes were waved

and a round of scotches appeared.  Brad was everything Tris had described.  As big as

Whippet, very close cropped hair but a moustache and small beard and the leather harness,

chaps and very classy boots with spurs.

     "So you're the other half," he said with a chuckle.  "I can see why Carly‑boy got

nowhere.  I gave him an extra duty when I heard of his offer.  Still, last I heard there's a love‑

nest now out Grantchester way."

     There were many stories bandied about.  I asked how he got into leather and after the

usual 'with difficulty if it's too tight' he said he'd been in the Horse Guards as a squaddie

and rather liked the uniform and his CO was a bit on the bent side as far as S & M went.  He

didn't go all the way himself but he'd earned an extra penny or two acting as a waiter or

attendant at various uproarious parties and dinners in the West End and at country houses.

"Could tell you a tale or two about the gentry and their habits," he said with a wink.

"There's a few offspring who don't belong to daddy in more than one family but they'll be

tall and handsome just like a Guardsman.  I got married and the missus put the kibosh on all

that so I left and joined the Met and then transferred here.  That's how I met the lads and we

discussed things.  I rose in the ranks quite quickly.  I was lucky over a few cases and now you

see me as I am.  My wife really didn't like the hours I worked and found the tax inspector she

worked for had a bigger dick or more cash in his pocket..."  'More cash!' intoned Whippet

and held his hands out about two inches apart.  "...so she left me with the lad.  He's coming

up to twenty now and shags every girl in sight just to show he's not like Dad."  He laughed.

"What he hasn't worked out is I'm not gay, I just like the lifestyle!"

     I had a couple of dances with Tris, then Whippet and another nicely toned lad who

kept eyeing Tris as well but seemed too shy to ask.  I led the lad over and Tris and he were

really the stars of the evening.  Two of the 'monsters' came over and bought as all a drink.

"Glad to see you, Brad," one said, "Got a little problem with neighbours.  Need a word in

their ear."  Brad nodded.

     "We get that sometimes.  A bit of harassment here and there and it's amazing what

we find out when we visit.  It's usually the evil ones who have something to hide who are the

mouthiest.  I think I know who Godfrey's on about.  Monday morning early if nothing else

crops up.  Godfrey's a good sort, very kind heart, he's rescued quite a few lads who don't

know which way they swing.  They're usually the bullied ones, too.  Bulgy's one of them.

Thinks the world of Godders."

     Neither he nor Whippet mentioned anything about new evidence and I didn't say that

I was working well with Fiona.  See what happens during the week.

     Saturday dawned bright and breezy.  I was glad of furry legs I said to Tris as we set

off for our run.  Not to worry as we all warmed up quickly and the five of us, with Adam in

the lead went on another hedge‑worth.  They laughed when we got back at my new standard

of measurement.  I said it was as good as saying that Nelson's Column was so many London

buses high.  Oh dear, I got four slaps for that and that was on my bare bum as Tris held me

while Ivo pulled my shorts down.

     "A well‑formed arse that," he said, "I remember thinking that at Disneyland all those

many moons ago.  You're lucky you can gaze on it, young Tris, when you want and I bet

young Nesto wishes he was here as he gazed on it fondly most days at the Villa.  Thinking

about it, young Nesto..."

     "....What the hell are you on about now, Ivo Fat‑arse?" said Adam coming over and

pinging the elastic of my jockstrap, "You're the one who could do with peering at their own

backside.  Ugh, you've got more pimples on it than a giraffe's got spots and as for hair up the

crack..."

     "Why be so disparaging about the hair up his crack?" asked Tris, all innocence,

"When he was in the shower after last Saturday's match I thought he looked must delectable

with the water making those lovely trails...."

     "Stop taking the piss,"retorted Ivo, "And as for Nelson's Column here," he pulled the

waistband of my jockstrap away from my stomach, "I guess that's at least two hands‑breadths

by my standard of measurement."

     "Definitely three," said Tris, "But I've got smaller and more delicate hands than you."

     "Will you all shut up and let me go," I said trying to control my laughter, "I need a

pee and I need a shower.  Go off to your own lairs, shower and come back down and

breakfast will be cooked for you."

     "Need a pee?" said Adam, "Shall I come and help you find your shrivelled Italian

willy?"

     Oliver hadn't joined in but was giggling and hopping from one foot to the other.  "I'm

off, I need a pee, too!"  He jogged off to a concerted hiss which made me want to pee even

more.

     Over breakfast we discussed what we should wear.  I decided on those very stylish

dark green trousers, a matching green shirt and the brocaded jacket.  I had got Signora

Whatever, the screechy one, to tone down the decoration on it, but it was still recognisably

Matteoli.  We lent Oliver a shirt so, with Adam, Ivo and Tris also suitably arrayed in Matteoli

finery, the five of us could be seen to be supporting the clan!

     However we had another duty to perform first.  That afternoon we all went along to

stand in the roadway outside Senate House to see the students march along ready to receive

their degrees.  Charles, arrayed in dark suit, white tie and his long gown with the rabbit‑fur

edged BA hood looked very smart.  We spotted Mother standing with Aldo and Uncle

Francesco and after the ceremony we waited until they emerged.  Mother was all one might

expect.  She was tall, slim, very good‑looking, dressed in a very expensive looking black suit

with just a hint of jewellery.  I don't know what Aldo must have thought after meeting her

again after so many years, but the combination of his sperm and her egg had produced

Charles.

     That evening, now changed into our finery, we walked to the Garden House Hotel.

Mother was now in some stupendous creation and greeted us again warmly.   Charles was in

a fabulous black silk suit and looked just as beautiful as his Mother as they stood in line with

Aldo to welcome the guests.

     Mum and Dad just grinned when they saw the five of us, Tris, me, Adam and Ivo and

the new friend, Oliver.  Toad eyed Oliver rather warily as I introduced him, I think because I

was holding on to him.  Anyway, Toad was soon away discussing adolescent matters with a

clone of Oliver, his younger brother Eddie.  Everyone was so happy and the room soon

seemed very crowded.  After dinner Charles gave a very witty speech and praised the

detective work of his very observant friends.  What was a kind, but expensive gesture, were

the four little boxes sitting beside our place settings.  A Leopardi signet ring each.

     Of course, Toad reminded me he would be appearing at four o'clock on November

the Fifth.  I had stipulated that I had a very busy schedule with two lectures in the morning

and a tutorial at two, but there would be fireworks on Midsummer Common in the evening!

He and Eddie got on so well I heard him asking Mum if he could come and stay some time at

Christmas.  I suppose that would include Oliver as well!

     Whippet appeared, by appointment, on Tuesday afternoon.  Not in uniform now but he

was definitely the Detective Sergeant now, everything had to be formal he reminded us.  I

was included in the group with Tris, Ivo and Adam. What he told us was startling.  Only

about ten days ago they'd had a phone‑call from someone who lived in the row of small

houses by the river near the boathouses.  This person said she'd been to Australia to visit

relatives and so hadn't been around when the inquest was held but she'd just heard about the

drowning of Brinley Potter and she was sure it must have been the day when, looking out of

her top‑floor window late one evening she'd seen two figures, quite different in size and the

small one had given the other either a bang on the top of his back or a great shove.  As she

was ready packed and waiting for the taxi to pick her up to take her to Heathrow she hadn't

seen what happened then, she just thought at the time it might be two students having an

argument or just indulging in a bit of horseplay.  She had said she had seen a good few rowdy

occasions in front of the boathouses.

     "Of course," DS Woolpit said, "This alters things.  We need to know if he was pushed

or struck and this made him fall into the water.  We know he must have been dozy because of

the strong sleeping pills, but this other could have been material in causing him to fall in.  As

you know, the College boat‑house is about fifty or so feet further along the towpath.  Who

would have been around there late in the evening?"

     "Did you say a small figure?  Brin was big.  I should think about six foot four.  So

what does small mean?" asked Ivo.  "Most of the rowers are big, usually five ten or more.

But the coxes are very small.  But Brin was so tall, and chunky with it, that most people

would look small against him.   I think I would.  I'm five foot ten but he would be six inches

taller than me and probably two or three stone heavier, if not more."

     Tris was nodding.  "I'm about six foot and I had great difficulty in shifting him off

the floor.  He was hefty as well as tall.  I would guess between fourteen and sixteen stone at

least."

     "You might find if there is a schedule for people working the machines in the boat‑

house.  They have a couple of ergometers in the upper room and they always seem to be in

use," said Adam.  "I've tried them and often get told they're for the rowers really."

     The Detective Sergeant was writing all this down.  "Thanks, there's plenty there to

think about.  It did seem such an open and shut case and trying to find anyone peddling drugs

gets more difficult as time goes on.  As you've probably gathered most of the pubs get

dealers in at times ‑ the same with the colleges.  We're not so much interested in small

amounts of pot but when you've seen the results of the harder ones you'll realise how we

feel."  He closed his notebook and looked from one to another of us.  "The next thing I'm

telling you is strictly confidential, but again, comments, observations, are what we need."

We must have looked a very solemn lot as he went on.  "Because of that person coming

forward the DCI thought we'd better have another look at the other one."

     Oh, Babyballs and the face down in the mud death!   Strychnine there!

To be Continued: