Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:

Mark Henry Foster  The story‑teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar

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

Charles (Clarissa) Fane‑Stuart  The 'Servant of the Chapel' and Footlights star

Toby Barker   A bright boatie and actor

Louis Mantegnant  Another bright boatie and actor

Annabelle Lewis   A Stage Manager

Alexandra Coutts   Annabelle's 'friend' and not to be trifled with

Jason Knott   An Assistant Porter with long antecedents

Rev Dr Basil Henson A very astute Chaplain

Matthew  Thyssen Another organ scholar [1999+] studying English

Drew Penry‑Jones A third organ scholar  [2000+] studying Natural Sciences

Fiona McKenzie  A Mathematical undergraduate with presence

Dina Patel A second Mathematical undergraduate with prescience

     Although there would be soup and tidbits before the rehearsal I couldn't rely on that

to fill Toad's belly and had worked out that a reasonable meal at six should give him a bit of

ballast.  I was cogitating on this as I wandered out for a breath of fresh air after my mental

exertions of the afternoon.  I'd decided on a large Sainsbury's  lasagne with added peas and

broccoli, which, unusually for boys, I knew Frankie liked, followed by sticky toffee puddings.

I'd made my decisions and was wandering back when I saw Oliver coming along to the

stairway.  He was carrying his small case ‑ oboe, I thought.  I had been through the score

earlier for the Cantata and I needed a small ensemble to accompany it including three oboes.

He and Fiona at least and Dr Al‑Hamed's wife played oboe as well!  As I would have to

conduct,  Matt would play the organ for the continuo, but I also needed a cello and double‑

bass for that, plus two horns and two violins, timpani and a bassoon.  Matt would know who

to approach and  I would have to consult Dr Al‑Hamed about how to conduct.

     "You look lost in thought, Mark," Oliver said.  He laughed.  "I'm really looking

forward to the rehearsal tonight.  Charles showed me a photo of the last one.  Marie

Antoinette!  He looked gorgeous.  Just wonder what I'll have to wear.  Something befitting a

lovely lithe Legionnaire he said."

     Not much, I thought, and the less the better.  I pictured him as an almost naked young

Roman flicking his whip, not quite as muscly as Guido the rampant pool‑boy but twice as

handsome, and the imagery was sufficient for a surge in my loins.  Change the subject!

     "I've never seen a performance yet," I said, "He's sent instructions of what I have to

play." I laughed.  "'Entry of the Gladiators' when the curtain rises and a 'Medley of Olde

English Tunes' as the drama unfolds ‑ whatever that means!"

     "Adam says he never knows until the performance what Charles is going to say and

it's pretty risqué at times ‑ should be good!"

     "How is Adam?" I asked.  I wasn't quite sure if the sleeping arrangements had only

been for Saturday.

     He paused, I think a bit uncertain what to say...

     "Come in for a cuppa," I said, "I'm expecting Francis back soon but we can have a sit

and a chat."  I felt just like a real old matron!

     He was soon settled and tea was ready quickly.

     "Actually," he said as I came back in from the kitchen with the tea things, "Adam's

been with me every night since Saturday.  If I tell you this, please don't tell the others, but we

haven't done anything since.  Adam says he's so unsure about how he feels and Ivo says he's

got to sort himself out." He nodded slowly.  "I do love him, but if he doesn't want me I

would understand.  Just being with him is enough for me at the moment.  I know it's difficult

for him.  I know I'm gay and so do you and Tris, but poor Adam is so unsure.  I don't think

it's affecting his work.  In fact it's nice as we sit together and he does his History and I do my

Music and we talk a lot when we're lying in bed as well."  He smiled.  "If it doesn't work out

I'll still be happy and you'd help me find someone else."

     I laughed.  "You know what Tris said about trying them out first!  Anyway, you had

Frankie worried.  He thought you were after Tris.  Though I say it myself, little brother's very

protective!  I have the feeling you would have been warned off in no uncertain way."

     Oliver laughed, too.  "Yes, I saw the cool looks he was giving me at the do at the

Garden House.  Eddie thinks he's great, though, and Eddie's quite straight as far as I know."

     "So is Frankie from the noises he makes whenever females are mentioned." I

snickered.  "But, he's not averse to helping hands when needed.  You'd better warn your

brother they'll be sharing a bed when he comes to stay before Christmas and the hormones

are flowing freely at present I can tell you."

     "Don't worry, Eddie's afflicted in the same way.  We made a pact when we stayed at

Gran's last year.  As long as he didn't disturb my sleep he could do it as many times as he

liked.  I managed most nights to drop off when he'd finished panting after the third!  And he

was brazen about it when I complained.  Said I was old and past it!"

     So, little and not‑so‑little brothers are all the same!

     I was just saying to Oliver that if he ever wanted to talk, either Tris or I would be

willing listeners when Toad came marching in with a great smile and a pile of music in a

Sainsbury's bag.  He treated me and Oliver as equals now.  "Any tea for me?  I'm thirsty and hungry!"  He eyed the plate with two biscuits on it.  "I suppose he's eaten the rest," he said looking pointedly at Oliver.  "He had the last slice of toast this morning, too!"

     "Look, lad," I said, "You're just about tolerated here as a guest so don't rise above

your station which is somewhat lower than the beasts of the field and every other creeping

thing and Oliver is an honoured guest and we were discussing adult matters...  I may have to

get Tris to repeat the bottom‑smacking routine...."

     Poor Frankie.  His face fell.  "You didn't tell..."

     "No," I said, "But Oliver's got a brother who has the same problems as you.  And

you'll be able to discuss things with him."

     "I can't help it if I can't control it!..."   He realised he might have said a little too

much.

     Oliver was grinning at him.  "I guess you suffer from something most young men of

your age suffer from."  Toad looked at him with a new reverence.  He had been classified as

'a young man' not as 'a boy' or 'a lad' or even as 'a young wanker'.  "I bet you can't control

when and where it happens, eh?"  Toad nodded.  "Nor could I...   ....I shot a load in my

undies in Scripture when we were reading about David and Jonathan.  I knew I was gay by

then and the story really hit me.  They loved each other and I nearly cried and then it

happened...."

     Frankie looked at me.  "...It happened to me this morning.  I couldn't control it.

Marky and Tris were tickling me and smacking me 'cause I was cheeky just before you lot

came in for breakfast...."

     Oh my!  Toad confessing to cheekiness.  Tris would have to be told!

     Oliver laughed.  "All with good reason no doubt!  But I thought there was something.

It was the way you three kept looking at each other."

     "Anyway, Francis, would you like some tea?  I've got a stack of food for six o'clock

and if Oliver likes to stay he can help you eat it.  And while you're munching you can tell us

why you were grinning when you came in."

     Toad sat by Oliver on the settee and I noticed he settled as close as he could.  Oliver

was a new friend.  I went out and got the rest of the packet of biscuits and another mug.

When I came back Toad was spreading out the music from the bag.

     "Matt's brill," he announced, "You could get him to give you a few lessons."  I was

squashed.  "He played through his programme for the Fellowship and never made a mistake.

Then he told me everything he'd done wrong and he played it all again and I could hear the

difference and he said that wasn't good enough, either, he'd have to practise much more.

Then he said he wanted to hear me play.  I tried my best and he really went through it bar by

bar with me afterwards and I knew I was better the second time."  He looked at me.  "I want

to be as good as you, Marky.  Matt said you should really try for your Fellowship next year.

He said his worry was the improvisation and I said you seemed to like that.  And then he said

he'd got a lot of duplicates 'cause his Uncle played and died last year and his Auntie gave

him all his music and he gave me these."  'These' were all sorts of things; Howells' Psalm

Preludes, Vaughan Williams' preludes, Progressive Organist, Couperin, De Grigny,

Clarembault, old Spanish music and so on.   Quite a treasure.  I could see Frankie happily

installed as organist somewhere ‑ perhaps even here.

     "Matt is good," I said, "I'll do as you say.  I am arranging for lessons from Lewis

Richards, too.  But I've got to find time to practise more, that's the problem.  I do have a full

timetable as it is."

     "Yeah, I've noticed.  You could say I've been neglected this week...."  His hands

went up protectively as I advanced on him.  He laughed.  "Not really, I've had a good time so

far and I'm looking forward to tonight and tomorrow.  Oh, and I bumped into Adam.  He said

we could go out on his bike after he took the photos 'cause that won't take long, as he wants

to go to Peterborough to collect something from the Record Office there.  Is that OK?  He

says I can have Ivo's helmet.  He's stashed the bike behind the Lodge somewhere but he said

we'll have to leave it at Mr Finch‑Hampton's on the way back and cycle home from there.

I'll be back for lunch," he added pointedly.

     Good!  Thursday morning settled.  Not suffering from neglect!

     "Of course it's OK.  Adam will keep you occupied and I can get on with all my work.

Anyway, Adam told me he's not only photographing the rhyme up the tower but the

scratchings in the crypt as well."

     There was a 'Wow!' from Toad and a 'What's that?' from Oliver.

     Frankie was bubbling over.  "There was this lad here yonks ago," he started

breathlessly, "They locked him up 'cause they caught him flogging his dolly and he scratched

his score for the week on the wall so Marky said, and it's still there and Adam found it..."

     Oliver looked a bit bemused.

     "Slow down, Frankie," I said suppressing a giggle.  "Let me explain."

     I went through the two discoveries and the connections we thought of both with the

Knotts.  "And as for 'flogging his dolly' where on earth did you get that phrase?" I finished.

     Frankie as uninhibited as ever turned to Oliver.  "You never heard it before?"  Oliver

smiled and nodded ‑ I'd heard it before, too, but never let on to Toads.  He looked at me.

"You must be deaf.  Kids say it all the time and Jack calls his his dolly."  He sniggered.  "Got

it out one day and he'd drawn a face on his knob ‑ two eyes, nose and mouth."  He turned to

Oliver.  "He's Jewish and he's circumcised..."

     "....But he's a young man like you?" said Oliver with no hint of irony.  I could see he

was trying his best not to laugh.

     "You bet!" said the Toad and picked up the remaining biscuit from the packet.

"Never stops."  The biscuit disappeared in one go.  "Where's Tris?" Frankie asked as the

memory of the biscuit evaporated.

     "Basketball practice," I said.  Frankie nodded.

     "I'm thinking of joining up," said Oliver, "I played a bit at school."

     I saw a worried look flit across Frankie's face.  I guess he still thought Oliver was

after Tris.  I'd better divert him.  "You can help get the food ready.  We'll eat in the kitchen

as this room's got to be ready for the rehearsal.  Lasagne, peas, broccoli, OK.  Then you can

make yourself clean and tidy upstairs because I'm sure you'll dribble cheese sauce down

you."

     Oliver said he'd go now and sort himself out and he'd love to eat at six.  Toad saw

him to the door.

     "I still think he's after Tris," he said as he returned, "You'll have to watch him.  He's

nice though.  Understands boys."  He came and stood close to me.  "You take the fucking

piss though and show me up and I won't keep my eye on the opposition for you."

     I put an arm round his shoulder.  "Frankie, I know you've got my best interests at

heart.  If I told you that if either of us gave him the come on he'd be in bed in a moment,

would that surprise you?  I like him very much and he's searching hard for someone to love.

It's not Tris though, don't worry and I think he's not going to find it with Adam, either.  He'll

probably have to search long and hard but I expect he'll make it."  I squeezed his shoulder.

"Thanks for looking after me, I really do appreciate it and I shall take the fucking piss as

much as possible.  It just keeps you on your toes."

     I hadn't bargained with being attacked by the Toad.  As my legs were against the

settee he just gave me a shove and I sat down and was then sat on.  Not an attack.  He put his

arms round me and nuzzled his head against my cheek.  "Marky, if I wasn't your brother and

I wasn't straight, Tris wouldn't get a look in.  Same for him, you'd be out on your ear.  So, as

you're hitched to him you stay like it.  You find someone for Oliver.   And if you didn't take

the fucking piss I'd think there was something wrong.  By the way...," He paused.  "....thanks

for this morning, saved me doing it later... ...and it was nicer!"

     I rolled over and managed to pin him down easily as he was heaving with laughter.  I

was just kneeling on him, with him trying to squirm away while I rubbed his prominent ears

with the palms of my hands, when a voice behind us spoke.   "I didn't know you were into

fifteen‑year‑olds, Marky," said Tris.  "When you've finished with him perhaps I could have

sloppy seconds.  All this exercise makes me horny!  I can finish what we nearly started last

night.  Just wait while I get these off."   He came round the settee and undid the drawstring at

the top of his long, dark‑red silky basket‑ball shorts.  Poor Frankie really thought his time had

come.  The imploring look he gave me was of the 'save me from a fate worse than' type.

Tris bent down and kissed his forehead.  "Been annoying your brother as usual, eh?" he said

as I let go of a now dazed young man.

     "As usual," I said, "But we've had a useful talk, even though he prefers a bit of rough

on the sofa to sitting quietly.  Up now, Bonzo, and tell Uncle Tris what you told me about

this morning."

     He stood up and put his arms round Tris.  "Fucking A plus!" he breathed and hugged

him tight..  He jumped away.  "Toss you off for a tenner, blow‑job thirty quid!"

     "Frankie!"  Tris and I said simultaneously.  I think we were both rather shocked.  He

saw our consternation.

     He came back and put his arms out and shook his head.  "Sorry, it's my big gob.  It

was marvellous....."  He sniffed.  "....Sorry."

     Tris reached out and put his hand under his chin.  "Accepted, but don't say things like

that."

     Poor lad.  He looked so woe‑begone.

     "And where did you learn that incantation?"

     "Jack, of course.  He says that the prossies really say hand‑job and French but he's not

going to find out."

     "Nor you!" said Tris.  "I'm off for a shower now and I will not be long.  You can start

laying the table and washing the veg.  It'll give Marky a chance to practise the pieces for this

evening."

     Toad was subdued.  But not quite.  "You needn't clean your teeth 'cause we've only

got half an hour!"

     Tris shook his head.  He knew when he was beat.

     We were ready by seven and went across the passage.  Jason was there supervising

the laying out of a range of goodies and stirring a tureen of soup on a portable hot‑plate.  He

nodded towards the bedroom and soon Charles emerged, immaculate as ever.

     "Dearest ones, do come in, I am in such a happy mood," he trilled.  "Jason dear, don't

fuss about, guide our guests to the table."  He turned to the fourth member of our party who

was staring at the rich flamboyance of the decor.  "Francis, sweet one, I am so glad you could

join us in our revels.  You must be famished.  Try these blinis with the smoked salmon and

caviare Mother sent with her glad tidings."

     As 'the sweet one' had only just finished demolishing a heaped plate of lasagne and

veggies, plus a following steaming helping of sticky toffee pudding, the word 'famished'

was, perhaps, not quite appropriate.  Still, he piled his plate and accepted a large bowl of

soup from a smiling Jason and perched himself against a convenient side‑table after moving

a large vase of mixed flowers that one only saw in high‑class florists.

     "Glad tidings indeed," Charles said once the rest of us had taken a couple of

delicacies each and refused the soup 'for the moment'.  "Mother is to make an honest boy of

me," he announced with a theatrical bow.  "She and the inestimable Aldo are to tie the knot

at last!   Not to cohabit but to make me legit.  My dears, a toast!"

     On cue, Jason reached under the table and brought up a bottle of champagne,

Bollinger I could see.  We crowded round Charles congratulating him observed by a

masticating and pensive Francis.  Having ingested his fourth or fifth blini he spoke.  "Does

that mean you'll be Count Leopardi then?"

     Charles extricated himself from the hugs and pats.  "My dear, that is just one of the

many titles, but the glorious thing is that I won't bear any stigma any more.  I will be a

Leopardi in name, as well as a Fane‑Stuart in spirit.  Mother will be a Countess which, no

doubt, will impress her transatlantic clientele, but she will still be Mother, just as I will still

be Charles.  Anyway, precious ones, the ceremony is in London on December the twenty

second with the reception at the Dorchester and you are all invited.  Come, the toast!  To

Mother and Aldo!  To Uncle Francesco and all the family!"

     Just as we'd finished downing that first glass there was a flurry of activity at the door.

Annabelle and Alexandra were followed in by Ivo and Adam and the large figures of Toby

and Louie.  There was much hugging and kissing while Charles imparted his news again.  I

saw Francis's eyes dart between Toby and Louie, both dressed in the usual College

sweatshirts and jeans which showed off their substantial torsos and thighs.  He caught my eye

and I raised a finger.  I stood up and went over to him.  There was a slight lull as everyone

was now supplied with plates and glasses.

     "May I introduce my brother, Francis," I said, "He's been staying here with me for a

few days.  He has aspirations to come here in the future and he's looking forward to the

performance tomorrow."  My!  The little Toad knew how to behave.  He went round and

solemnly shook hands with everyone and stopped in front of Louie and Toby.

     "My brother says you row.  Does that take up a lot of time?  I mean keeping fit as

well.  Doesn't it interfere with your College work?  You manage to keep up?" he sounded so

earnest.

     I knew that neither Toby nor Louie were taken in.  "Why?  Are you thinking of

rowing as well?  Bloody thickos, the pair of us, so you'd be in good company!  Half seven

Friday morning at the boathouse and we'll show you," said Louie putting a very large hand

on Frankie's shoulder and squeezing.  Frankie winced.  What Frankie hadn't realised was I'd

mentioned Toad and his tongue to Louie and he'd agreed to take him off my hands for an

hour or two.  If time on the ergometer and with the weights machine, and even instruction on

the rowing machine, after our usual run didn't subdue him, nothing would.

     Jason was kept busy but I did manage to say I needed a page turner both this evening

and tomorrow would he oblige.  The look was sheer ecstasy.

     We trooped across to my rooms just before quarter to eight.  Jason was set to open the

two boxes and a startled Francis was handed his costume including a pair of golden sandals

and a bronze circlet for his head.  He was pointed towards the bedroom to be joined by the

other male participants as they were also given their bits and pieces.  As far as I could see

there were definitely bits and pieces especially for the two steeds.  Elaborate harness and

reins were to be fitted for them including headpieces with floppy ears and flowing black

hairy manes and matching tails.  There were shrieks, cursings and rumbles as the merry band

donned their accoutrements.  Charles and the two young ladies discussed in low tones make‑

up and props.  I showed Jason the pages I needed and he said he would supply some clothes‑

pegs to hold the music steady as he imagined the piano in the theatre would not be in first

class condition.

     At just after eight the cast began to emerge.  Tris was first.  A really angelic Anglo‑

Saxon with shoulder length golden wig, his slim waist circled by a belt of hanging leaves and

knee‑length leather boots.  Toby and Louie were next and looked like larger versions of Tris.

The only other decoration was a necklet of what looked like small sausages around Louie's

neck.  My questioning look elicited the hoarse whisper, "penises of conquered Gauls".  Toby

held up a small leathery bag which clinked.  He grinned.  I guessed.  Certainly not a purse

made from a sow's ear but from...  I winced and felt my own scrotal sac tighten.  Oliver and

Francis emerged together, he dressed in a leather‑like small tunic with a short kilt

under and the brown bloomers I'd had described to me by Charles and finished off with the circlet and sandals.  All I could say was that Oliver had a lot less - a beautiful golden jock, his chest criss-crossed with silver chains and a leather belt and carrying his Legionnaire’s helmet plus a small whip and a riding‑crop.  We had no time to stand and stare as then there was a clatter and we all gaped and then burst out laughing.  Ivo and Adam were steeds magnificent. All they wore were black tanga briefs but with ears, manes, tails and imitation hooves with fetlocks on feet and hands, they looked the part.  Alexandra slipped the harnesses over their heads and handed the reins to Charles.  His smile was rapturous.

     "Darlings, you all look divine."  He waved the hand not holding the reins.  "And now

the mise en scene.  My valuable hand‑maiden has been abducted together with my noble

steeds.  The perpetrator of those heinous actions is in hiding but we have captured his two

young Centurions and two of his Legionnaires.  That pair..," he pointed to a pawing and

neighing Ivo and Adam, "... have been tamed by threats of gelding and will pull my chariot."

He turned to Annabelle.  "Peter has completed that construction you tell me?"  Annabelle

nodded.  "Good, then there will be room for me and my charioteer?"  Annabelle nodded

again.  He pointed to Oliver.  "This lissome Legionnaire has succumbed to my wiles and will

take charge of the fiery steeds,..." He paused and Oliver cracked the whip while Ivo and

Adam pawed and neighed again on the sidelines.  "...but this other one is more recalcitrant

and defies my Queenly demands."  He pointed at Francis who had no clue he was to be a

central part of the tableau.  "So he is to be suspended by his thumbs and tortured until he

reveals the hiding‑place of my valuable possessions.  Raise your arms as far as you can."  A

look of horror appeared on Francis's face as he complied with the order.  His kilt lifted and

we all had a good view of his tight woollen pants.  He looked around the room.  No one

moved..  Then Louie sneered.  An absolute copy of the Toad!  He held a hand upwards and

drew his fingers to the palms in an unmistakable gripping movement.  Francis's mouth

opened silently.

     "My dear, look not so alarmed," said Charles, "You will not be harmed.  But each

time I demand that you be tormented you will just utter 'Aaagh'"

     Louie's fingers opened and closed again, the sneer on his face was evil, a strangulated

'Aaaagh' emerged quite involuntarily from Francis.

     "Perfect, a veritable Burton!"  He turned to Annabelle.  "Make sure the scaffolding is

high enough, I like my Romans to be well‑hung."

     The double‑entendre was followed by a cracking of the whip, pawing and neighing

and a snigger from a so‑far transfixed Jason.

     Charles addressed Francis again. "You can put your arms down now, my precious,

you will be perfect.  You are happy with your part.  Quite big in the final analysis I am sure."

He looked round the room at the others who were all either laughing openly or suppressing

their mirth as Annabelle was adjusting harness here or a straying leaf there.  "As usual you

will have to wait to see my costume which is arriving in the morning and to hear the

monologue which I can tell you has exercised me greatly.  But in general, as I bemoan my

losses so my worthy serfs will be instructed to apply certain instruments to those tender parts

of the hapless young man and only desist because of the goodness of my heart and the

contemplation of his beauty."

     He looked at Oliver who was flicking the whip towards Adam's backside.

     "My charioteer will endeavour to comfort me by looks of passion and the control of

my unruly steeds."  Oliver flicked the whip and the leather pinged across Adam's tanga‑clad

bum and he pawed the ground.  "They will vie to be in the lead and display the equine

equivalent of virility until quietened by further threats of the gelder's hot irons.  Annabelle

dearest, another implement needed.  Could it be made to glow?"  Annabelle nodded and

noted something on a pad.  "My three vassals with the non‑passive tassels will double their

efforts to violate the young man as they realise I am coming under the influence of the

charioteer.  But all ends well as the imploring looks of the young man decides me to appoint

him as my new helpmeet instead of that brazen Phanny..." There was a hoot of laughter.

"....My dears, it's the spelling that counts... ..who can do as she wishes for that Pullius Pudus

and I'd rather have the charioteer and these noble beasts to carry me to glory any day.  Mark,

my dark beauty, final chords in an upbeat mode, please!"

     Alexandra stepped forward.  "Gentlemen.  I need to have you ready for make‑up by

seven‑thirty.  It would be good if you can help others to apply it.  I can assure you all is

washed off easily ‑ light blue for Cambridge for the woad painted warriors ‑ and don't get it

on the wigs.  All of you, don't put tops or other props on before I've supervised any body

paint is the rule."  She pointed at Francis then at Oliver.  "You'll just need a little more

brown and I've got a curly wig for you, Oliver.  You bring your hair gel with you, Francis.

You're frightened so we'll use that."  She looked at her pad.  "Ivo, Adam, a rather darker

body plus arms and legs are needed but you can deal with each other.  OK?  Any questions?"

     No.  All seemed happy.  I saw Louie grinning at Francis who mimed fright.

Annabelle was next.  "As you know, we are scheduled as the last act of the second half..

That means we should be on sometime after ten o'clock.  We can't say when.  There are

three completely new acts, two in the first half and one in the second.  I won't be seeing two

of them until tomorrow afternoon so I know nothing about quality or length.  The third is

tolerable, but if  the audience is dissatisfied at all there is likely to be noise.  I have never

known Charles unable to exert control so please bear with any rowdiness if it should occur.

You made need to play loudly, Mark."

     I nodded.  But it depended on the piano.

     She looked at the others.  "If there is any heckling or anyone throws anything let

Charles deal with it.  There is likely to be some of that and catcalls when the curtain rises and

Francis is dragged on and suspended.  Don't be worried Francis, that is customary.  Just

follow Charles, once he starts, he's never if nothing less than forthright.  I can assure you the

props are perfect and Peter has made a really realistic chariot.  I just need to measure

Francis's reach and all will be done.  See you tomorrow night."

     Charles clapped his hands.  "We have to finish the Bolly next door so once you are re‑

clothed repair there."

     The lads made a dash for the bedroom ‑ all except Francis.  I'd heard of boys going to

bed in their Superman or Batman costumes, Francis was so excited I wouldn't be surprised if

he wished he could follow suit.  Annabelle and Alexandra had followed Charles to go across

the passageway.  Francis came over to Jason and me.  "You look good, Master Francis," he

said, "I saw that film of Ben Hur and you could have been in that.  Star quality, eh, Mr

Foster?"

     "No doubt."    I, too had seen the film, and Jason and the Argonauts, and Antony and

Cleopatra, and at least a dozen others and had lusted over the hunky young men portrayed in

them...  Here were two of the handsomest young men, my brother and Oliver arrayed like

young Gods.  There was Tris, my lovely Tris arrayed in not much more than a bunch of

leaves..... I was sure Tris was in for a mammoth loving session that night.  "One glass,

Frankie, then up to bed.  OK.  You've got a busy day tomorrow."

     Toads can have angelic smiles.  "Come on, then, I don't need to get changed, I've just

got to take my things upstairs.  Coming Jason, you deserve a drink watching us lot!"

     For once I didn't even have to signal to the Toad.  I was determined that Tris and I

would be in bed pronto.  Francis came up to me bearing his empty glass.

     "I've got a busy day tomorrow," he said, "I'm off to bed."  He hitched up the

imitation leather jacket a bit on his shoulders.  "Do I look OK?"

     "You look perfect.  And make sure you don't mess that costume up."

     He put the glass down.  His nostril lifted in the trademark sneer.  "I think I already

have ‑ but I've got undies underneath..." He added hurriedly as I moved towards him.

     Tris and I were in bed just after ten o'clock that night.  I needed to tell Tris how much

I loved him and to show him I loved him completely.  I fucked him slowly and gently until

both of us were satiated with love and the making of love.  Just before one o'clock we went

together to the bathroom where he voided the three gifts of my boycream.  We cleaned each

other and I led him to bed where for his third time I drew from him the final remnants of that

day's output of his own precious balm.  We shared those remnants with the final kisses of

that day.  He fell asleep in my arms, gently breathing as I stroked his golden hair.  My Tris.

     We were woken by an insistent rapping on the outer door.  I hurriedly slipped on a

convenient pair of shorts and went and opened the door.  There was Francis all ready for the

morning run.

     "Not up!" he said, "But then you oldies need all the sleep you can get."  He pushed

past me and I heard a yelp from the bedroom.  When I reached it a rather stunned Tris was

standing by the bed clutching his left buttock.  "Best way to get him out," was Frankie's reply

to my questioning look.

     "Little bastard!  You wait!" He made a lunge for Frankie who evaded him easily.

"I'll have your knackers for that!"  He stared at me.  "No need for you to laugh.  The little

bugger smacked my arse so hard...."

     "..It made you have a hard‑on," said Frankie, chortling with glee and pointing.

     True.  Tris's prick was certainly elevated.  Whether it was the smack, or his usual

morning stiffy, who could tell.

     "Well," said Frankie once his glee had diminished and Tris was still blearily rubbing

his butt, "Are you two coming or do I have to leave you here?  I've got many things to do

today so we might as well make an early start.  I banged on the other doors..."

     .Tris was silent.  I knew retribution would come.  Then three other figures invaded

the bedroom ‑ all kitted up.  Oliver was in the lead.  He took one look at Tris.

     "Gosh, Tris, I think I'll abandon Boudicca and whip her vassal into submission...."

     "This is all his fault..," began Tris, pointing at Frankie who was standing in front of

Ivo and Adam.

     "Good on yer, Frankie," said Adam, patting him on the shoulder,  "But I haven't seen

anything as small as that since Grannie's teapot, and the spout on that tended to drip."

     "Bastards, the lot of you!" grumbled Tris, himself trying not to laugh, "You're all

taking the piss and as for him...." He pointed not at Frankie but at me.  "...He has no control

over that little fiend and lets him run wild....."  He'd run out of any semblance of indignation.

"Come on, why aren't you ready either!"

     It doesn't take long to don running gear and we were soon off with Tris goading

Frankie on in front of him.  Must say for a fifteen year old he ran well.  Oliver,  Frankie and I

turned back at my usual hedge and let the others continue.

     Frankie and I shared the shower and I pointedly looked at the burgeoning hard‑ons

which happened under the hot shower.  Frankie laughed as we stepped out. "Boys are strange

aren't they.  I think I'd better go and clean my teeth upstairs, eh?"  I liked that.  A new

euphemism for another not‑to‑be‑missed at least twice daily habit.

     I had breakfast ready when the others returned, mentally making a note that two

dozen eggs didn't go very far but they were cheaper than buttery fees.  Frankie sat next to

Tris and I could see the sore bum had been forgiven.  The Chaplain was also going to be

pleased.  His usual morning congregation of four or five would be just about doubled today.

     The others went off to get their undergraduate gowns on ready for Chapel.  I lent

Frankie mine as I said he had to be properly arrayed.  He looked as proud as he did in his

costume the night before.  "You'll see I'm OK, won't you Marky?" he said as we entered the

Chapel and wended our way up to the organ loft.  I had chosen the last part of Vaughan

Williams 'Rhosymedre' as the quiet entry.  I looked back down into the Chapel and saw

Charles ushering in more than the usual number, even swollen with our lot.  I'd told Fiona

and Dina and I saw them go into their usual places in the choir stalls.  Matt came up the

stairs.  "Dr Henson says we'll have a hymn today.  'For the Beauty of the Earth', five verses.

OK?"  He winked at Frankie.  "Watch he doesn't pull the Bombarde!"  I looked at my watch.

Ready to start.

     The service went like clockwork.  I was surprised at the strength of the singing in the

hymn and whispered to Frankie to draw the Swell to Great coupler for me for the final verse.

While Dr Henson was saying the closing prayer we changed places.  I watched as he drew the

stops needed and at the final Amen he was ready.  I gave him the nod and Bach entered and

then filled the Chapel.  Frankie, I thought, as I drew the coupler for him for the last bars, if

you don't come here you'll be wasted.

     At the end I switched off everything and we went down.  There was quite a gathering.

I saw Jason and Liam slip out of the main door as we got to the bottom of the stairs.  All eyes

were on Francis.  Dr Henson came up.  "I think we could find a corner in the vestry for you to

bed down for the next couple of years," he said with his beaming avuncular smile.

     "I wouldn't mind a room in the crypt," said Frankie, "Be part of history there."

     "Yes," the Chaplain said, "I hear you're going down with Adam today and up the

tower again.  I think there's a lot still to be found out here, eh Charles?"

     Charles was smiling, all were smiling.  I then noticed a small figure dart from a back

pew and disappear quickly through the side door that only the organ scholars and Charles

only ever used.  It was Drew.  Why was he here?  He didn't usually attend Chapel if he or his

group weren't involved, but I knew he haunted the Chapel at all sorts of odd times.  I'd seen

him in the organ mirror duck down in a pew while I was practising on more than one

occasion.  He seemed to spend a lot of time praying and I supposed he fitted it in between all

the lectures and lab sessions he had on his Chemistry course.  The Nat Scis like him were

always moaning they had more work to do than the rest of us.  I didn't know about that.  My

work was in my head constantly.  I would be thinking about a problem, or a proof, and then I

knew.  I only had to write it down and check the reasoning.  Fiona said I was lucky.  She had

to sit and really think and try out different methods and make quite sure.  Dina said she often

could see the answer, or knew how to tackle it but it was then hard work.  I also seemed to be

able to picture things, not just manipulate the symbols.  I would have to ask Professor Tanner

about it.  I supposed we all had different ways of thinking.  I was cogitating on all this while

Frankie was being congratulated.  I noticed that most of the choir were there including 'Tory.

Annabelle and Alexandra came up and he bowed.  He'd made a hit there with two very

formidable young ladies who had both graduated last year with Firsts and were almost

running between them one of the numerous bookshops in the town.

     People drifted away until Adam, Ivo, Oliver, Charles and I were left.  Frankie turned

to me.  "I play in church now sometimes but this was different.  I thought of Grandad down

there in the choir...." He sniffed.

     "He would have been very proud of you," I said, "You'll see Gran soon and you can

tell her.  And when we go down to Aunt Sophie's we'll visit Oliver's Grandad.  He'll be able

to tell us things."

     He turned to the others.  "Thanks for coming.  I played that for you all."

     Ivo and Adam stood either side of him.  "We're proud of you, cuz," said Ivo.  Adam

put an arm round his shoulder and hugged him.

     "Grandpa's got lots of photos," said Oliver.

     Adam brought down Ivo's motor‑cycle helmet and leather jacket and put them in my

lobby.  I said I'd be in until nine‑thirty then I would be leaving for my lecture and back by

half eleven when the girls and I would be working over the lecture notes.  He said he'd return

Frankie by about twelve fifteen give or take...

     All went well.  I managed the last of the problems ready for my tutorial this

afternoon.  I set off in good time and saved seats in the usual third row for the three of us.

We were going through the notes back in my room when Frankie returned.  I had forgotten to

tell him Fiona and Dina would be there.  For once he was overcome with unaccustomed

shyness.  They congratulated him again on his playing and he had the grace to produce a

slight blush.  I went into my study and got all the things ready I needed for my tutorial.  A

note in my pigeon‑hole from Professor Tanner had asked if I minded putting off my tutorial

until half past two.  That would give a little more time for lunch.  As I came back in they

were ready to go and Frankie had lost his blush.

     I looked at my watch.  It was just after half twelve.  I was feeling peckish and it was a

wonder that hollow‑legs hadn't started moaning about lack of sustenance.

     "Haven't booked for Hall so it's either MackyD or a pizza.  Mac's nearer."

     As junk food was usually a no‑no at home the prospect of a double whatever with

fries was something, other than the thought of that singer's tits, which little brother would

drool over.  He bounced up off the chair.

     "I'm ready!  Just got to put my coat on." He grabbed a top blazoned with the Matteoli

logo which he said was going to be the next wicked want for the crowd.  He turned to me

with a huge grin on his face and wagged a finger.  "Make sure you wrap up warm otherwise

your decrepit old bones will freeze.  I'll suggest Unc designs some thermal undies for old

folks like you and the Thugs."

     I managed to catch hold of his arm and put it up his back while he squealed for

mercy.  "Look, mate,"  I said straight in his ear, "You need to do a few arm exercises of a

different sort then you might be able to get free.  And you're not too big yet for your trousers

to come down to see if you're wearing Shelley's knickers or if you cleaned yourself up after

last night's little disaster!"  The first had been a put‑down for him when he said we were like

David Beckham in the thongs we had to wear when we were being fitted at the Villa.

     "I nicked her frilly ones ‑ want to have a look?  And that other wasn't a disaster.  It

was just nice!"  I twisted his arm a bit more.  Lying and boasting Toad.  "Ouch! I want my

food," he yelped, putting on a childish whimper, "Let me go and I'll do anything...

Anything...."  There was a significant pause.  "....with Tris!"

     What does one do with one's bright, horny, cheeky, quite endearing, teenage brother?

Feed him!

     I let go and off we went, he looking at everything and trying to peer through the low,

dark windows of the other students' rooms.  He flinched a bit when two large figures loomed

as they stepped out from under the inner arch leading out.  They were two of our less than

famous athletes I assumed.  The unlikely menace passed us silently.  Old Albert was in his

lodge.  I felt it politic to show him I was taking care of my young brother.  He nodded his

head slightly in recognition of my raised right hand.

     "You have to remember Porters are the most important people in a college," I said to

Frankie as we emerged through the outer gate.  "You've been recorded in his memory, like

Grandad, Dad, me, Tris and everybody else who's been through those gates."

     "Yes, when he said I looked just like Dad I didn't believe it until he said how he'd

been here to give a recital when he was fifteen.  I bet he knows a lot some people wouldn't

like revealed."

       Odd statement.  I wondered why?

     "Why do you say that, Frankie?"

     "It was just the way he looked at that man who was in there when we looked in the

other day."

     "Mr Finch‑Hampton?"

     "Yes, he doesn't like him and he kept his eye on him all the time he was in there as if

he didn't trust him."

     "Yes, he was the one I told you about when I came for interview."

     "I know, that's why I was watching him as well."

     We tramped up the passage‑way and went along Trinity Street towards Rose

Crescent.  He was unusually silent as we walked along side by side dodging the other

pedestrians.

     "Those two girls," he asked in the end, "Don't they do anything for you?"

     He was serious so I'd better be serious, too.

     "Not in the way I think you mean.  I like them both very much and we get on well.

They're friends, that's all.  They're both good at Maths, too."

     "Yes, I could see they like you as well.  It's funny though."

     "That I don't want to take them out and then take them to bed?"

     "Yes, suppose so," he grinned at me.  "Fiona said she's got two at home like me and I

knew she wasn't taking the mick.  I like her.  She said her father was the Pennefather Scholar

in his day and he's a copper now.  That's funny, too.  You thinking of being PC Plod?  You'd

be OK reading all those detective novels."

     I laughed.  "No!  Not in my line.  I just like thinking through all the clues."

     His pace quickened when he spotted the subdued signing as we went round the curve

in Rose Crescent.  His nose positively twitched as we entered the fairly crowded premises.

     "Order what you want," I said generously.  I had spent almost nothing so far of Uncle

Francesco's rather lavish gift.  Two full‑blown Maccy Meals wasn't going to dent it too far.

Toad did just as I had suggested.  His tray had two bumper double something boxes, two

packs of fries, a Snuffly‑Wuffly or whatever it was called, plus what looked like a gallon of, I

was glad to see, Diet Coke.  My straightforward meal with a medium coffee looked

positively meagre against his.  He'd found an empty table and spread himself across most of

the available surface.

     "Bliss," he murmured as the first pack was opened and a quiet munching ensued.  He

grinned at me.  I grinned back at him.  Little brothers aren't too bad.... ...in small doses!

     "So tell me about this morning," I said when the first of his boxes had been

consumed.  He did slow down a bit.

     "Phat," he said, "Saw what that kid had scratched.  Sixteen Adam said he was.  We

don't change, do we?"  I noted the 'we'.  "Funny thinking of him there doing it.  1458,  Adam

said.   Poor kid.  I'll have to tell Jack."

     He took another voluminous bite and was silent for the next twenty seconds or so.

     "I liked the bike ride.  He didn't go over the speed limit, though, as he said the motor

cycle cops use that road for their own training.  He's good though and said I improved as a

passenger and I didn't tell him how to ride it like Ivo."  Another bite and a slurp.  "Yeah, he

was ever so pleased when he came out of the Record Office.  He thinks he may have found

out what happened to that kid.  Got to translate it though.  He said it's in Latin and comes

from a monastery's records.  He going to ask Dr Henson but he said he's got to be careful

because of that tutor.... ....You know....  Pinch‑Bum he called him."

     He offered me his second packet of fries as I had eaten all mine.  I took a couple to be

friendly.  "We left the bike in that man's garage at his house.  Well, his second garage, he's

got two."  He nodded.  "The house is big and he lives in College mostly Adam said.  He's got

a Merc in that garage but Adam said he'd never looked in the other though he said he's seen

that man going in and out of it.  I had a peep but the windows were a bit dirty but it looked as

if he had a sports car in there.  There was a dust cover over the front.  I think it was red."

The lid of the Snuffly thing was opened and something revoltingly pink and glutinous was

scooped out.  "He must be worth a bit."

     Adam had told us a bit of gossip after P‑B, as I thought of him, was battered in the

balls.  "Adam said he comes from a fairly wealthy family and he inherited the house and

other stuff if he added the Hampton to his name.  Adam said he'd heard it was Finch

something else earlier but he wasn't sure."

     "Yeah, there was a sign which said Hampton House.  Nice house.  Looked bigger than

ours."  He contemplated the rest of the contents of the carton.  He screwed his nose up and

plonked the lid back on.  "No wonder little kids are fat."  He looked at me.  "I just burn it off.

Used up a few calories as we had to ride bikes back.  It's OK.  I left it in the bike rack and

Adam said you could have it if you want.  You'd better have the key to the chain."  He fished

in a pocket and withdrew a key fob with two keys on it.  "You'll recognise the bike 'cause

it's got Carr painted on the frame in bright green.  It's a nice bike."

     As I walked everywhere in Cambridge a bike at the moment seemed superfluous to

requirements.  I took the keys and stowed them away.  He was finishing off his Coke and

looked contented.

     "We'll get you a sweatshirt on the way back but we mustn't be too long as I've got a

tutorial then the girls will come in about four so we get ready for tomorrow's lecture.  You

can go to Fitzbillies and get some buns and we'll eat in Hall tonight before going off to the

theatre.  You can amuse yourself otherwise?"

     He nodded vigorously.  So that was settled.

     Before my tutorial I popped in to see Louie to check he really meant he would see

Frankie in the morning at the boathouse.  He laughed and said he would make sure he was

worked hard but he thought he was a good kid.  I said he might change his mind after the

performance tonight.  Anyway he also showed me a quick way to approach the first problem

we'd been set at the lecture this morning and during the tutorial Professor Tanner went over a

host of new stuff on the concept of limits in such a way I was smiling when I came out.

     "By the way, Mark," he said as I thanked him and was ready to leave.  "Would you

care to come to lunch at our place on Sunday?  You and your friend Tristan.  I've already

asked Ivo and Adam and they are coming, too.  Twelve‑thirty for one."

     Well that was an invitation.  A bit more than the host of sherry and drinks parties I'd

been to the first few days of term and, I suppose, on a par with the dinner with the Master.  I

thanked him and he said there would be quite a few present ‑ but very casual ‑ Ivo and Adam

knew how to get there, a bungalow on the Girton Road.

     After the tutorial I met the girls just coming in the main gate.  Frankie was playing the

piano as we went into the main room.  A Haydn Sonata Madame Keech had also taught me.

He sounded good.  He finished playing as we sat at the dining room table and unpacked our

bags.  They both congratulated him and he scuttled off to the kitchen and soon reappeared

with tea things and some rather expensive looking cakes.   Ouch!  I'd forgotten to give him

any money.  I got the up‑turned nostril sneer as he stood behind them and handed them plates

before passing them the cakes as well.

     After they'd gone I thanked him for getting the food.  I asked him how much but he

just said it was his treat and it was a pity the girls were going spare and he wasn't a couple of

years older.  All said with the trademark Toad expression.  I ignored it but thanked him.

     He sat at the piano again while I took the plates and cups and saucers to the kitchen

and washed them up.  As I did this I could hear him playing in the background.  Very good, I

thought, the sooner he does Grade Eight the better.   I went in as quietly as possible but, of

course the door creaked and he stopped playing at the end of the phrase as I entered the

room.

     "Carry on," I said, "You're very good."

     He smiled at my compliment.  "I like playing.  I missed it when we were in Italy."

     I did too, but Uncle Francesco resolutely refused to have a piano in the Villa although

he played well.  The rapped fingers by an over‑zealous piano teacher had put him off for life,

he said.  Aldo told us it was really because he would spend so much time playing he would

never get any work done. 

     "What's 'Unda Maris'?"  He pointed to one of the ornamental frieze of organ stops.

"It's next to that first one over here."  'Here' was more or less above his head.  "That's a

Principal four foot first up there.   We've got one of those at St Barnabus and you've got one

on the organ here."

     I'd had a look at the row of ornamental organ stops and had idly noted their names.

There were five on the wall between the door to my outer lobby.  Then there were another

seven along the wall towards the fireplace.  Above the fireplace were two more from which a

painting of the college Chapel was hung.  Then on the opposite wall between the two

windows were two more, with another picture and this was matched by another two pairs on

each side of the windows.  A veritable collection.

     'Unda Maris'   That had puzzled me.  I hadn't played many different organs and had

never seen a stop called that.  I'd had a look in the Concise Grove in the study but couldn't

find it there but I was able to display my erudition as I'd found it listed in another volume

just called 'The Organ'.

     "Oh," I said, "It's Latin and it means 'Wave of the sea'.  It makes an undulating

sound...."  I held out a hand and rotated my wrist quickly.

     ".....Like our Celeste stop?" said Frankie interrupting my little lecture.  "Mr Prentice

says it's done by two pipes for each note not quite in tune with each other.  Is that right?"

     I would have to watch my erudition.  The Toad was quite correct.  But, I had more.

"Yes, that's right.  But I found out it's generally a stop on continental organs, German,

French and sometimes Italy.  You don't often find one over here so I expect whoever put

these up had it specially made or got it from abroad."

     "Did Mr Pennefather put them up?"

     "I don't know.  We'll have to ask Charley and see if there are any records."

     Frankie had gone over to the fireplace and was reading off some of the names.

"'Erzaehler',  sounds German,  Flute', 'Bazun', is that bassoon?"  I say 'Yes'.  "'Montre',

that's French.  I saw that written on the Cesar Franck piece Mr Prentice sometimes plays at

the end of the service.  'Aeoline'.  Crumbs, he did collect some funny ones.  Oh and the next

one's 'Gambe'.  Ours is spelt 'Gamba' isn't it?"

     "French for 'leg'" I said.  I wasn't to be beaten.  "I think the Romans made their

flutes out of the leg‑bones of slave‑boys who had displeased them.  They called them 'tibia'

and you get those stops as well.  So watch it, matey, your little legs would sound good!"

     He wasn't having it.  He sneered.  "Pull the other one.  Mr Prentice said it's a string

sounding stop and should be 'Viole de Gamba'.  Like a cello between their legs!  Huh!!"

     Oh dear!  Thank God he hadn't heard the phrase 'skin flute' or there would have been

comments about what boys had between their legs and the playing of such.  But, he'd lost

interest by this time, and it was true, it was a strange collection.  I looked at them again.

Most of the stops I had come across;  there was a 'Larigot' and a 'Lieblich Gedackt', a stop

with a fractional length and a sweet‑sounding flute stop.  Both of these were on our big three‑

manual at St Barnabus and on the College organ..  'Tromba' and 'Hautbois'  were easily

thought of.  We had a 'Trumpet eight foot' and a 'Trumpet sixteen foot' here, both good

loud reed stops.  We also had an 'Oboe eight foot' which would match the 'Hautbois'.  I had

looked up 'Erzaehler'.  I found it was a German stop and translated as 'announcer'.  Never

heard one.

     "I bet it's a collection of someone who was just mad on organs," I said.  I didn't add

that if he was the Daddy of Jason's forebear he was probably mad on another type of organ as

well.  But, he'd been a student then and all students are mad on their favourite appendage!

Then he'd stayed on.  All those years as a bachelor don.....  What relief did he get because I

was certain the universal urge didn't disappear once you graduated?  And then there was all

that evidence Adam said was in the College records about the fines for wantonness.  And

poor sixteen‑year‑old Johannes Knottus locked up, and Daddy having to pay up, because he'd

been discovered wanking, and he couldn't give that up ‑ not even locked in a small, cold cell.

And now Toad had said Adam thought he'd found what happened to him..

     "Oh," he said, "Jason said I had to tell you he's only done a bit of the cleaning for you

today.  I helped him put his stuff back in that cupboard under the stairs.  That's a bit odd

'cause I would have thought it would have been a big deep cupboard but there's a wall.  I

thought it would be big 'cause there's the fireplace in here and it would have gone along

from there.  Jason said he didn't know but he'd ask his Dad."

     "I expect there's an explanation for it.  Perhaps the wall is ten feet thick there.

Defence against the Dark Arts I expect."   I knew he was mad keen on Harry Potter.  Oh, but

that's what Brin's nick‑name was.  His surname was Potter and I knew his pals called him

Harry.

     "Yeah," said Frankie, laughing for once at one of my quips, however weak, "You

probably need it.  There's a lot of dark things about this place."

     There was no sign of any of the others when we went to Hall for Dinner.  Drew was

standing at the door handing out leaflets.  He took one look at the pair of us, his almost

furtive glances darting from one to the other.  I was given a leaflet.  Francis wasn't.  Not that

he was interested.  Food, food, glorious food was on his mind.  It wasn't bad.  Substantial,

and Sean piled him high with cottage pie.  I saw Toby sitting with a portion about half the

size of Toad's.  He was looking at his leaflet.  I sat next to him.  He grinned at Francis

opposite and made the gripping motion with his hand like Louie had done the night before.

Frankie provided the 'Aaagh' as required.

     "What the hell's this?" he asked, pointing at the leaflet he'd put down on the table.

     I had rather screwed mine up while I was balancing my tray and the food on it..

"Probably another of his diatribes about unnatural acts," I said.  I flattened mine out and

Frankie craned his neck over to look at it as well.  No, it wasn't the one exhorting boys not to

wank and girls not to fuck but an invitation to all those who wished to repent of their sins to

attend an all‑night vigil in the College Chapel conducted by Anthony Grant‑Davies and Drew

Penry‑Jones where contemplation of sins committed and freely admitted would pave the way

to Eternal Salvation or thereabouts.

     Toby pointed at the first name.  "That's that ranting happy‑clappy ordinand," he said,

"Huhn, and they're both double‑barrelled.  That one," he pointed at Drew's name, "called

one night and said that if I gave up any sins of the flesh and prayed for forgiveness I would be

ready when called to the Lord.  I suggested that if he didn't get down the stairs quick the Lord

might call for him sooner than he expected.  He just stood and called me a blasphemer.  At

least he had the guts.  I just slammed the door."

     I looked at Toad and knew what he would ask and the look I gave him silenced him.

Not for long.  He worked his way steadily through the mound of cottage pie and assorted

vegetables.  I wasn't ready to keep my eye on him.

     "What would you consider are sins of the flesh, Marky?" he asked with as guileless

an expression on his face as you could expect from an innocent eight‑year‑old not a thrice‑

daily fifteen‑year‑old.  Thank God for the Toby's of this world.

     "If you don't know by now, young sir, I'd suggest you were a bit retarded in

development," said Toby.

     I got my oar in.  "I can assure you he isn't," I said as firmly as I could.

     Toad was squashed.  Toby had a kind heart though.  "I've arranged for our Captain of

Boats to give you a lesson in the trainer tomorrow, OK?"

     Toad thanked him serenely.  I suggested if he wanted a second helping of pudding

he'd better go and get it now.  Off he went and held up the queue chatting to Sean.  While he

was gone Toby was laughing.

     "They're all the same," he said, "My kid brother's just sixteen and he's all mouth ‑

plus everything else.  Sins of the flesh?  Bloody hell, it's not like we're raping ourselves!"

     Oh, that's a confession.

     When we were back in my set I suggested to Toad he'd better be careful what he said

at the boathouse in the morning, a ducking in the Cam would be a bit chilly on a November

day.  "And," I informed him, "you've been honoured, our Captain was a reserve for Goldie

last Boat Race day.  Not quite in the boat but there ready."  Our College again just beyond

the pale!

     We'd been informed of a change of timing and not to be anywhere near the theatre

until nine o'clock as there was likely to be pandemonium backstage given the number of new

acts.  This meant Toad was fidgeting about for nigh on two hours constantly asking if it was

time to go.  Luckily just after half eight Jason came and we decided we'd better be off.  Not

too much pandemonium and I was roped in to play the introduction for a quite good stand‑up

comedian.  While he was in front of the curtain for the last part of his act the scene was set

on stage for ours.

     The chariot was magnificent.  Just like the one I'd seen by Westminster Bridge.

Adam and Ivo were two fine stallions when hitched to the front of the chariot.  Their body

make‑up was cleverly applied stripes of dark paint down their sides over a dark tan body

wash.  They demonstrated that their ears could be raised by stamping down which pulled on

a thin strand of fishing line.   Oliver as the charioteer had a tight black curly wig and was

oiled so his well‑defined pecs and six‑pack were on show under his leather tunic.  The

scaffold from which Frankie was to be hung was erected and he would have to be on tip‑toe I

guessed.

     Time for the big show.  I was given the nod and Entry of the Gladiators was played

double forte on a piano probably last tuned in 1899.  No, it wasn't too bad though a couple of

the keys tended to stick.  As the curtain went up there was a roar and a great round of

applause ‑ even more so as Charles made his entry.  Nobody so far had seen Boudicca's

costume.  All he'd said was that not only did Mother have a friend who was 'big in leather'

but also she had a friend who was an officer in one of the Guards regiments.  So, Clarissa

entered,  in a flowing blue robe of some gauzy material with a matching train and

surmounted by a shining silver Guardsman's cuirass around her torso.  On her head was a

silver Guardsman's helmet with a blue horsehair plume from under which long blond tresses

tumbled.  What brought the real shouts and roars were the two conical protuberances ‑ a la

Madonna ‑ on her chest.  Whistles, catcalls, shrieks, uninterpretable yells and a thunder of

applause.  She bowed and removed her helmet which she handed to Oliver who promptly

dropped his whip.  He climbed off the chariot and had to walk by the two steeds to retrieve it.

He bent down, bum out to the audience.   A roar of 'Nice arse!', 'Are you selling it?', "Five

quid a feel!" and so on met that bit of unrehearsed action.  He walked to the front of Ivo and

Adam and patted their noses.  They whinnied and neighed and pawed the ground and their

ears went up.  More laughs. He climbed back on the chariot and Boudicca raised her finger.

     She was off.  She deplored the loss of her lovely Phanny.  Lost to the wiles of the

monster Centurion Pullius Pudius Magna.  Her stallions were taken too, but two of Pullius

Pud's young Legionnaires were captured and subdued with threats.  And the lovely young

Centurion had agreed to be their master.   They liked a hard master.  He tapped their rumps

with his riding crop and they whinnied and pawed the ground and their ears went up again.

They liked a bit of firmness 'she' said.  All in all it was a diatribe against the evil Roman

scum and contained so many double entendres and witty one‑liners it was hard to keep track.

No heckling, just a contented continuous hubbub of laughter.  She then announced she would

find out easily where  Phanny and Pullius Pud were as she also had another young Centurion

ready for questioning.  She turned and snapped her fingers.  On came Toby first, painted all

over in light blue 'woad', with Frankie slung over one shoulder kicking his legs and having

his brown‑clad backside slapped in retaliation..  Louie and Tris followed, also completely

painted, bearing the instruments of torture, pincers, red hot pokers, truncheons and whips.

These were displayed on a stand at the back of the stage where Tris also put a smoking pot

and withdrew the gelder's forceps which glowed red as he pressed a button on them.  Shrieks

of 'Oooh', 'Aah' and 'Oh' met this entry, even more so when Louie  and Toby took hold of

Frankie's legs and they lifted him upside down as if to impale his genitalia on sharp hooks on

the cross‑piece of the scaffold.

     "No!, No!," shrieked Boudicca, "I told you to suspend Mickus Dickus by his thumbs

not his 'pilae'!  These big boys they don't understand the Latin.  A girl has to keep her

options open, you know.  Turn him over and use his thumbs."   Frankie was reversed and set

on his feet, then stretched up and fastened by thongs to the cross‑piece.  His face was set in

an 'I'm scared' look and his gelled hair was standing straight up.  I don't think Boudicca

realised what then happened during her next line, "I do like my naughty Romans well‑hung!"

Of course, as Frankie was stretched up so his kilt lifted, his brown pants, rolled up as far as

possible tonight, were displayed and the most prominent bulge was revealed.  He must have

tucked two pairs of football socks in his undies.  The roar was colossal.  So, the evening was

set.  Jason and I were laughing so much I think we both missed several of the jokes.  Frankie

reacted on cue to each threat and the audience howled their approval as the torturers

approached and hissed as they were told to withdraw.

     There was another bit of unrehearsed action when Boudicca, reprimanding her

stallions for being rather too frisky, drew the Guards Officer's sword she had by her side and

poked Adam in the butt with it.  The third time she did it she must have jabbed a bit too hard.

"Ouch, you bitch!" he yelled.  Of course, this gave her the opportunity for the gelder's

pincers to be revealed and to yells of approval poor Adam nearly lost his knackers, only to be

pardoned at the last moment by Boudicca's realisation that she might want to breed from

him.  "Anytime!," came a shrill female voice from the audience to be joined by others.  "I've

heard of ladies and horses," said Boudicca to a tornado of laughter at this repartee.

     Of course, this led to what happened in battle to enemies and the necklace of Gaulish

dicks and the money purse had to be displayed.  There were a few yelps from the audience

when she said the French money bags were a bit small and she thought she might have to

wage war on the Scots who must have the biggest balls to ever contemplate harrying the

Romans and having to have the Wall built to keep them in.  'Balls' was the only 'rude' word

used all evening!

     Finally, even Mickus Dickus was reprieved.  Boudicca had had enough of flighty

young girls as hand maidens and wished to train this young Centurion as her hand servant, as

it looked as if he had nice soft hands and long fingers.  With those fingers he should be able

to learn to strum her lyre.  Frankie showed his relief when released by falling at her feet and

kissing her sandals, and, to the final chords before the curtains closed, received a well‑aimed

back kick from Ivo right in the crack of his arse.

     There were several curtain calls with more whistles and shouts especially when

Frankie, still smarting from the kick and rubbing his backside, reached over and gripped

Ivo's bollocks in his tanga pants and squeezed.  Not hard , but enough to startle him and

make him wince.  There were yells from the dressing‑room later as Ivo and Adam divested

him of his bloomers and stuffed undies and reddened his cheeks, both ends.

     Annabelle and Alexandra were very pleased and came round congratulating everyone.

Charles emerged from his separate dressing‑room in ordinary clothes as if nothing had

occurred.  There were more yells from the boys' dressing‑room as either Toby or Louie had

hidden Frankie's clothes and as Ivo and Adam had stripped him completely he must have

been hunting in the nude after his shower.

     "Are you going to confess?" I heard Toby call out.

     "Of course," came Frankie's plaintive reply.

     "Look in the basket."

     It took some time for all of them to shower and dress and Charles was chatting to me

and Jason while this was going on.  Frankie emerged first and was all smiles.  Charles was

most effusive in his praise.  "Dear boy, you had them in stitches.  I shall sign you up for any

future extravaganza if you are available."  Toad was over the moon.  There would no holding

hin now.  "There's plenty of Bolly left so a goodnight tipple for all is prescribed.  Annabelle,

dear, a bottle for you and Alexandra."  He opened the bag he had slung over his shoulder and

presented them with a magnum.  The others emerged one by one and when all were

assembled we made our way back to College and to Charley's rooms.  Jason had gone ahead

and there were canapés and small sandwiches laid out and we all had two glasses of cold

champagne.  I nodded to Frankie and he said his goodnights and went off happily whistling.

He'd looked at Toby as he went out and I recognised the tune quite easily, Colonel Bogey:

'Bol‑locks, and the same to you!'.  Oh, Frankie, I thought, you are storing up trouble for

yourself!

     I was dressed in running kit and waiting for Tris to find his trainers in my wardrobe ‑

which was beginning to stink of feet ‑ when Frankie thumped on the door.

     "The others are coming," he announced as I opened it, "And these are for you two."

     He was wearing a dark blue head band and handed over two like it.  They had the

Matteoli M emblazoned on the front.

     "I'm going to suggest to Unc he has a batch made in dark red," he said, "M for

Matteoli could be M for St Mark's.  They'll go like a bomb here.  Should make me a bob or

two."

     I handed the pair back.  "You'd better give these to Toby and Louie.  You may be in

for a rough ride this morning."

     He took them back and gave me a Toad grin, no sneer.

     We ran the other way this morning, towards Chesterton and the path that way.  On the

return we all thumped across the Fort St George Bridge and left him at the College boathouse

where Toby, Louie and a few other oarsmen were gathered ready for a row or other exercise.

I saw him give the pair the headbands as we left him to their tender mercy.  An exhausted,

but radiant young man arrived back at the set just after nine.  He was ravenous and full of all

the things his new pals had subjected him to.  He'd gone for another run, had time on the

ergometer, been inducted into the use of the weights machine and, glory of glories, had half

an hour's instruction on the static row‑boat moored by the tow‑path.

     "...And he said next time I come I can go out with the new ones being trained....." he

finished breathlessly before spooning in the first of two bowls of cereals and demanding two

boiled eggs and plenty of toast.  I left him to it, telling him to shower and to pack his things

neatly and we'd have a lunch somewhere before I took him to the station and Tris said he'd

probably be there as well after his stint in the Library this morning.  I went off to do my own

stint ‑  another hour's worth, this time of Applied Maths.  After that, Fiona, Dina and I had a

coffee in Starbucks and polished off several of the problems set.  They also said how much

they'd enjoyed the show and they'd laughed at poor Francis.  I said he'd had enough praise.

As both had younger brothers they understood.  I also gave them a ticket each for Dad's

recital for Friday the twenty‑third.

     Tris was there when I returned and Frankie was going over all his exploits.  As I'd

promised him the choice he said he wanted to go to the Temple of the Golden Arches again

so I was resigned to another sight of a selection of double whatevers being devoured.  He did

not have a pink confection this time but made up for it by having three boxes of burgers.  Tris

and I watched as the pile was demolished.

     "Used a lot of energy this morning," he said in a hoarse whisper.  He grinned.  "Only

one sin to confess to this morning, though.  And I did clean the shower so Tris won't slip."

Tris got the Toad sneer that time.

     I looked round hurriedly and noted that the next table was being vacated and the one

the other side had only an old man behind a copy of the Sun.  He was wearing a hearing aid.

I doubted if he would have heard what Frankie had just said and I thought he might not be

able to interpret it if he did hear it.

     Back at the rooms he was quite effusive in his thanks.  He'd had the most wonderful

week of his life.  I wondered if that was true.  I had the impression that was the week when

he'd found out the supreme joys of wanking and had spent so much time in the bathroom or

being harried to get up in the morning even Mum had remarked on it much to my

embarrassment ‑ I remembered, I'd been the same!

     "See you in a couple of weeks time.  We're staying at the Garden House," were his

parting words as he got on the train.  "Thanks!"  He blew us both a kiss.