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 Fane‑Stuart  The 'Servant of the Chapel' and Footlights star

Jason Knott   An Assistant Porter with long antecedents

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]

Brian (Bulgy‑Boy) Barnes  The ever ready drinks carrier at the Club

Daniel Springer  A young catering student enamoured with Jonty

Jonathan (Jonty) Matthews  A trainee Estate Agent

Gabriel Pack   A most friendly Aussie

Joshua Gibbons  Another friendly Aussie

Paul Phillips  A friendly solicitor, companion of Professor Tanner

Jacob Van Zyl  Another friendly solicitor but badly crippled

Barry Hall A young man with a past who is Mr Van Zyl's carer and caterer

Gordon Foster  Father of Mark and Francis. Fiddles for a living

Francesco Matteoli   Designer and Uncle of Mark and Francis

Aldo Leopardi  Companion of Uncle Francesco

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

Dr Eric Mays   The Master of St Mark's College

Lorenzo di Falcone-Browne  Gabriel's new‑found friend

Tris was grinning as the train pulled away.  "Though I say it myself, he's not a bad kid."  I

had to agree.  I suppose that being the elder I hadn't had someone to play off against.  Tris

and I had met and were, to all intents and purposes, equal.  I'd asked the girls how they got

on with their younger brothers.  "Malodorous hobbledehoys!" was Fiona's immediate

response, "But I love 'em, really.  Must say Dad keeps them under control."

     Dina laughed.  "Mum's the one in our household.  The only thing is they use me to

wheedle things out of Pop."

     I told them a little about Frankie's obsession with girls and that I was no help there.

They both laughed.  "You don't need to worry," said Fiona, "You and Tris are objects of

devotion among our lot.  In fact we're having a Girls' Night Out at the Club next Friday.

Shawn the boss says we can have the Ladies' Room so you'd all better be careful if you're

in."

     I didn't say Tris and I were having an evening there tonight.  Just a quiet drink, a

dance or two, a boys' night out with Oliver and Adam in tow.

     As I was getting ready Tris came in laughing.  "Come up to my rooms."

     Toad had got hold of a bundle of Drew's leaflets, including the anti‑wank ones, from

the pigeon‑holes under the notice‑boards in the Chapel lobby.  They were carefully arranged

around the bedroom, the main room, the bathroom and on the kitchen work top.  On top of

each one was a screwed up tissue.  The contents of each did not bear investigation, but, if it

was what we were supposed to assume, Toad had been busy.  There were twenty‑one in all.

All was revealed when we found a saucer which hadn't been washed properly.  A sticky mix

of sugar and milk!  Even Toad hadn't been able to surpass the weekly output of Johannes

Knottus in one day!.

     In the Club I'd just finished telling Brad about the Boudicca performance and

Frankie's involvement when I looked up and saw, in the rather dim light of our secluded

booth, two looming forms.  I'd seen them before.  They were the pair of large menacing

bodies from whom Frankie had recoiled when we were going out of the College gate.

     They stopped as they reached our booth and one, definitely the larger, looked across.

"They told us out there we'd find a nest of bloody poofters in here!" he began in a very

marked Australian drawl.  Immediately Brad, Whippet and Carlo stood up.  The big one

looked at Carlo and stuck out a hand.  "I'm Gabe, and I'm a bloody poofter."  Automatically

Carlo shook his hand.  "And from the feel of that you are bloody too!"  Rather stunned Carlo

let go and a hand was stuck out towards Whippet.  "Hi, I'm Gabe," the hand was shaken,

"and you are, too!"    He looked Brad up and down and thrust out his hand again.  Brad shook

it.  "Hiya Mate, I'm Gabe.  You ain't.  Are you the bloody Daddy?"

     Bulgy‑boy came scurrying up.  "It's OK, Mr B," he almost shouted.

     Gabe turned.  "You're bloody slow, Blondie.  Had to introduce my own bloody self.

You know what they're all bloody downing  ‑  same again and two Diet Cokes for Josh and

me!"

     The situation was defused.  We were told in no uncertain terms to move up and we

did so to accommodate two fat backsides.  Explanations then came thick and fast.

     "I'm Gabe Pack and that's me cousin Josh Gibbons.  Been sent over here because

Dad didn't want a big poofter like me roaming the bloody streets.  Josh is me bloody minder

and he's bloody miserable.  He ain't and he's worried in case his bloody pecker's getting

rusty.  Hasn't had a bloody shag since he's been here."  A quiet 'Shut up, Gabe' came from

Josh.  "I always tell the bloody truth," said Gabe.  He looked at the assembled group.  "And

who are you?"

     As he was sitting between Brad and me, Brad took up the introductions.  He said he

was Brad and those, he pointed to Whippet and Carlo and then to Dave, are good friends of

all here, and then said their names.

     Gabe laughed.  "I think I'd be good in bloody leather.  Need a couple of your Dad's

cows for me bloody chaps, though, Josh!"

     I thought I'd better be polite and started off by saying I was Mark ‑ a large hand

nearly put paid to my organ‑playing days of any sort ‑ and this was Tristan.  He was sitting

next to me the other side.  His hand got crushed as well.  Gabe looked across the central table

and saw Adam.

     "I didn't recognise you with your bloody clothes on, mate!" he bellowed, trying to

stand in the rather confined space but sank back again.  "Last time I saw you, you were

bloody starkers, waving that whang of yours and singing 'Swing Low'.  Bloody good voice

and your whang's not bloody bad either!  You a bloody poofter, too?"

     Poor Adam.  I rather compounded it.  I said quietly.  "Just wondering."

     Gabe laughed.  "Best of both bloody worlds, eh?"

     That left Oliver.  He was staring intently at Gabe.  It was almost a rapturous look if

that could be described.  He stood and leaned over.  "I'm Oliver and I'm a bloody poofter,

too."

     "Bloody hell," said Gabe giving his hand and arm a mighty shake, "Ain't had a night

with such a good‑looking bloody lot since leaving King's Cross.  See what you're bloody

missing, Josh!"

     That set the tone for the evening.  We found out that Gabe's father was big in

property development in Sydney and Gabe was the black sheep of the family as far as he was

concerned.  Josh's father was a big‑scale farmer whose only interest was in his cattle.  So

Gabe was given the option of coming to England or ending up in the arse end of Australia, as

he said, and Josh was glad to come as at the time he was getting over being rejected by the

love of his life.  But Josh's great bloody gripe was the lack of 'footy' ‑ Australian Rules

Football ‑ as there was none around and he was a keen player.

     "Had to do bloody something for him," Gabe said, "Joined the bloody Rugby Club

and we were on the other bloody side when I saw him last."   This with a finger pointed at

Adam, who was getting over being included in the 'don't knows', but also secretly proud of

being the possessor of a bloody good whang, I assumed.  Adam smiled and raised his glass.

The whang had triumphed over the 'don't know'.  "Needs to get his bloody end away," Gabe

went on relentlessly, "Afraid his reputation will take a bloody battering if it ain't soon."

     "Shut up, Gabe," came a low almost melancholy response to that.

     Adam perked up.  "Has he seen the Ladies' Rugger team?" he asked, "Some good

girls in that.  They need a bit of support."

     Support.  Having seen one or two hanging about in the Students' Union bar the major

support quite a few were in need of was way out in front.  Good job Toad wasn't old enough

to enter there or he'd have been transfixed.

     "Bloody good idea, mate!" said Gabe.  "There you are.  We ain't bloody playing

tomorrow.  We'll find out in the morning and you can bloody pounce!"

     "And what about you," I said.

     He laughed.  "Ain't found anyone over here yet.  Thought I was being bloody pursued

by some little poofter, though.  Came banging on the door a couple of times last week and

when I opened it first time asked was I saved and had I repented my sins.  I asked him what

sins and he was getting all bloody cosy about how boys were tempted and gave me some bit

of paper.  I said I'd bloody read it and shut the door.   He was back the next day and was on

about it all again and kept staring at me as I was just in my bloody shorts 'cause I'd been on

the weights we've got in our rooms.  I thought he was bloody perving me so I did a few

bloody twitches of me pecs and so on to give him the come on and he was almost bloody

drooling when bloody Josh came up behind me.  He'd been working out on the weights as

well and he was in a sweat and just had his bloody jock on.  The kid just stood and screamed

as Josh put his arm over my bloody shoulder.  Should'a heard him.  Scared the shit outta me.

I went to grab him and he bloody flew down the stairs yelling about sin and dam‑bloody‑

nation."

     "That's Drew," I said as everyone laughed.  "He's had a go at most of us.  Has a thing

about boys and their evil habits.  Probably thought you and Josh..."

     Gabe laughed.  "Not bloody likely!   But  he was along the road tonight.  He bloody

went when he saw us."

     The beat of the music was getting to me.  I nudged Tris.  We stood and left the others

and began to circle the room.  We were soon joined by Dave and Carl and soon all had our

shirts off and really getting into the rhythm.  Tris and I circled a couple of lads dancing

together we'd had a dance or two with before and exchanged partners.  Mine wanted to get

up close and we had a slight smooch and I was battered by his hard‑on.  "You've got a nice

one there," he said as mine pressed into him as well, "You need something any time."  He

grinned up at me.  "Only joking, I can see you're hitched.  Trying to get Danny to move in

but he's scared of his Mum or that fucking big brother of his.  Still, mustn't grumble, we

manage."

     It was after the next number, when I'd exchanged and had Danny who was all arms

and legs but sweet with it, that I noted the new pair.  Oliver and Gabe.  For someone about

six foot two and bulky with it, Gabe was a surprisingly good dancer, light on his feet and

leading an equally good dancer around the floor.  Perhaps Adam might be supplanted!

Anyway Danny was murmuring something.

     "What was that?" I asked.

     He moved his head up close and his soft hair brushed my neck and I went even stiffer.

"Got to tell someone," he said in a slightly clearer voice.  "I love him so much but I

daren't..."

     "...Come out?" I asked.

     He nodded against me.  Poor lad, he was almost in tears.  I bent down a bit and kissed

his ear.  "That's lovely," he said, "Will you do that again?"  I did and we clung together as

we hit the beat again.  "Mum wouldn't understand and my brother would beat me up.  He

hates us since he was in the Scouts and some old chap caught him with one of his pals and

said he'd tell Skip and Mum if he didn't go with him.  I had to clean him up and I was only

eleven then.  Made me promise not to tell  but you understand, don't you?"

     Why tell me? Was I a willing ear?  He must have been eighteen like me so I wasn't a

threat and he'd seen me and Tris together.

     "Why don't you just leave home and go and live with...." I hesitated, I didn't know

the other lad's name.

     "He's Jonty.  He's got a nice flat.  He works for an estate agent who's gay as well.

It's OK, he's old and he's got a friend."  He shook his head.  "I want to, but Mum would go

spare."

     I thought I would pry a little as the DJ announced the next tune.  Tris was in earnest

conversation with Jonty.  "What do you do?"

     "I'm doing a catering course.  I want to be a chef and there's plenty of work around.

My cousin works for one of the colleges and he says he could put in a good word for me."

     "Just left school?"

     He nodded and we started off as the music started.  "Three A levels, but I didn't want

to go to University.  Too expensive.  Jason says it's probably best."

     "Jason Knott?" I said without thinking.

     He nodded.  "Yeah, St Mark's.  You there?"

     "Yes.  And I know Jason well.  He's a good lad."

     He nodded again.  I was getting used to dancing and having a conversation at the

same time.  Soft lips brushed against ears as we had to say things close because of the loud

music and it added a certain something to one's sexual tone.  My tone was around top C at

the moment.

     "He knows about me.  I had to tell someone.  He said he'd do my brother if he

touched me but my Mum's his Auntie and it's difficult."

     "So your brother doesn't know you're..."  I let it hang in the air.

     He shook his head.  "He calls me a bloody pouf 'cause I've got posters of a couple of

boy bands in my room."  He laughed and his hair brushed my neck again.  I shall have to get

Tris to grow his a bit longer and give up the gel.  "I said he must be too as he's got three

fucking great pictures of rugby players on his wall.  He tries to be too fucking macho, it's

unbelievable."

     A bit of amateur psychology popped out.  "You don't think he's compensating?" I

said and tried to move my hard‑on into a less constricting position.

      "Thought that, too.  I did Psychology as an A level and he kept looking at my text‑

books."  He sniggered.  "Bloody hell, that'uld be a turn up for the book.  I'd have him down

here pronto and sell him to the highest bidder.  He's got a good body.  Like your friend's.

Fucking hell, just look!"

     He nodded across the floor.  We turned and I saw a shirtless, gleaming Adam gyrating

with an equally glistening Whippet.  In fact it seemed all eyes were on them.  All the dancers

were moving nearer and there were several collisions as couples were not keeping one eye on

the dance floor but two eyes on the pair.

     "He's a copper," whispered Danny, "Sorted 'em out when Brian got mugged."

     Oh, yes,  Bulgy‑Boy was Brian.  And Adam was with Whippet.  Whippet was looking

and Adam was wondering.  Difference in ages, but...  I couldn't see Adam hitching up yet,

though.  Was I being too complacent about Tris and my relationship?  Were we really hitched

or was it just adolescent, and then late adolescent, infatuation which might pass?  I sincerely

hoped not and Tris had given no indication that it would.

     "Why not talk to Jason a bit more and keep an eye on your brother.  Does he have a

girlfriend?"

     He shook his head.  Answers in the negative were very arousing as I got both the hair

and a secondary caress as he turned slightly and our bare torsos rubbed together.  I liked

dancing ‑ especially with Danny!  "No, says they're too expensive.  He's got a couple of pals

he watches rugby with, though."

     "He doesn't play then?"

     Ooh! ‑ I kept asking the right questions.  If I wasn't careful I might do a Toad in my

undies!

     "Bloody hell, no!  He might get hurt."

     "It sounds to me like big brother might be hiding his light under a bushel," I said.

     He laughed.  "Good one that.  You think it's a case of 'he without sin'?"

     "Definitely.  If we could only get him in here...."

     "Lovely!"  He laughed and gave my neck a kiss.

     Luckily it didn't go any further.  Danny was a lad I could go for.  He was obviously

intelligent.  I could tell he was honest and nice and, sadly, not able at present to have

everything life was offering him.  But, could I tell Jason I'd met him?  Better not.  I don't

think Jason knew that we came to the Club though I'd left a couple of flyers of future events

in my study.

     "Here's Jonty," I said as that number finished.  I gave Danny a hug and he responded

with a sweet smile.  "Come and sit with us and have a drink."

     As there was room with the others still dancing we sat and Tris and I chatted to the

love‑struck pair while Brad and Josh argued the relative merits of rugger and footy.  At one

point I heard Brad say, "Of course, all you lot are closet gays.  I've seen games on the telly.

Tight little shorts and singlets and grabbing and groping all the time.  Bet you get it on in the

dressing‑room.  Eh?"

     Josh was losing his melancholy look.  He laughed.  "You're as bad as bloody Gabe.

But I'm not into that.  Trouble is, being big means it scares most of the women off."

     "Trust me," I interrupted, "Some of those girls are big, too!"  Wow!  I couldn't even

imagine what might happen if Josh was on top of Melanie, I think that was what her name

was.  I hoped he had sufficient equipment to make a connection!

     "Tomorrow, then!" he said and bought as all another drink.

     When we got back to my rooms Tris and I worked off all the pent‑up passion built up

during the evening.  We both confessed we'd have had Jonty and Danny in bed in a moment

and that both the lads were well‑equipped for the fray.  As we lay and kissed and licked and

sucked we both said it was so sad they couldn't be together.  As I climaxed to the

ministrations of Tris's tongue around the ridge of my cock I thanked all the deities I could

think of  for being with my chosen one.  With my legs up around his shoulders I came a

second time as he filled me with his love.  Again I was so thankful he was mine and I was

his.  We lay and kissed and we both came a third time just with the lightest of touches to

engorged, heavy pricks in perfect harmony.  We slept, I hoped, safe in the knowledge that our

love was secure.

     I was woken by the softest kisses on my lips.  "You're my only thought," said Tris, "I

want you all the time but we'll wait until tonight."

     We cleaned ourselves up a bit and were ready kitted up for our run when there was a

knock at the door.  It was Oliver.

     "Good, you're up.  Gabriel's gone to get his kit.  He's coming too.  Ivo and Adam are

rowing about something as usual but they'll be ready soon."

     I said nothing.  Tris took up the implication.  "So Gabriel...," he put emphasis on the

full name, "...spent the night with you?"

     Oliver smiled.  "Of course.  He's great fun."  He must have spotted a warning light in

Tris's eye.  "It's OK, we did nothing too exotic!  Just boys together."

     "I don't have to tell you to take good care," said Tris, "I guess he's been around a bit

more than you."

     Oliver smiled and nodded.  "Thanks Tris, if you hadn't said that I would have been

worried.  You'll keep an eye on me, eh?  You and Mark?" He reached out and held my arm.

"I saw how you looked after your brother."  He laughed.  "It's OK Tris, I'm still a virgin.  We

talked a lot and you're right he's very experienced and he's never settled....."

     At that moment there was another bang on the door.  I went.  There was Gabe

swathed in a voluminous sweatshirt but the smallest running shorts ever seen showing off his

massive, muscular thighs.  "Where's that bloody little queer?"

     Tris came through and faced Gabe.  He beckoned him into the main room.

     "Gabe," he said when they were standing face to face, "Don't take me wrong but

please stop the 'poofters' and the 'queers'.  It was funny last night but it's not this morning

and it's likely to be misunderstood and you'll end up being heartily disliked by people who

could be good friends.  Also, I want you to understand that Oliver is our friend and we won't

stand by and see him used.  I'm speaking bluntly because I think you appreciate that sort of

openness..."

     A voice came from behind us.  "Good on yer, mate.  You said it right."  It was Josh.

     Gabe put his arms out and enveloped Tris in a great bear hug.  "You're so bloody

right!"  He let go and a rather dazed Tris stepped back.  "I've got a big mouth and I've

always used it.   Got in more trouble because of that.  Another reason for coming here.  Got

me away from a bunch who were after me." He stood and opened his arms.  "Let's start

again.  I'm Gabe and I want to be a friend."

     My turn.  I stepped forward.  "I'm Mark.  These are all my friends and yours too.

Come on, we'd better start running, I can hear Ivo and Adam on the stairs."

     Josh whispered to me as we went through the door.  "You bloody English have done

more in two minutes...."  His usual melancholy look went and we laughed as we ran together

following the oddly matched pair of Gabe and Oliver.

     I had lectures at ten and eleven fifteen so had to be clean and tidy.  Tris said he would

spend the morning in the Library sorting out precedents for some case he and his fellow

tutees were arguing on Monday.  I also needed to practice and to sort out the forces required

for the Cantata, plus thinking about the problems set from the lectures.  That would take up

the afternoon.  At least we would have an evening at the Club.

     All went well.  Oliver and Gabe were full of the description of the Ladies' Rugby

match.  There had been quite a sprinkling of males watching with them and Josh had well

and truly pounced.  From the description I didn't think it was the large Melanie but he'd been

invited to a post‑game celebration by one of the girls which he'd accepted with alacrity

leaving a well‑satisfied Gabe and Oliver to join us later.

     It was a noisy night.  No Brad or Whippet.  Carl said there was a bit of trouble they

were sorting out but Brad had left his usual kitty behind the bar for us.  Carl and Dave shared

Adam and one of the other lads who were always intrigued with our group.  Jonty and Danny

weren't around, probably at Jonty's flat, I thought. We even got Bulgy‑Boy on the dance‑

floor and his padding certainly made an impression on my lower regions.  Gabe and Oliver

just danced and danced.  Gabe was giggling most of the time he was sitting out.  "Bloody

hell," he confided to me as he took an enormous draught of his Diet Coke, "Never been so

happy.  You fuckers have brought me down to bloody earth."  He nudged me.  "That bloody

Tris of yours, best mate anyone could have."

     I must admit I had four scotches that evening, plus a litre bottle of water to stop

dehydration, so my libido was rampant and I wasn't too gentle dealing with Tris's own fired‑

up carnality in bed.  After giving him the tweak and lick all over treatment he was a

squirming bundle of readiness as I positioned my rigid tool and entered him slowly and

purposively for the longest loving fuck I could manage.  His legs were round my back for the

best part of an hour as I looked down into his eyes and watched the changing expressions as I

came twice and wanked him twice and then fell on top of him where we wallowed in the

sensuousness of two muscular young bodies sliding in his boycream spread from belly to

chest.  After a myriad kisses he rolled me so he was now on top and I stared, up this time,

into his beautiful blue eyes and watched the smile on his face as he entered me and fucked

me until his third ejaculation of the evening and watched upwards again as he lovingly

brought me to my third  excruciatingly beautiful climax with his clasping hand.  We shared

kisses as we unwound and slept entwined in each other's arms.

     As it was Drew's turn for the service music I popped into Chapel towards the end.  A

large congregation were swaying and raising arms and singing to a steady beat from a really

good group.  Not my style but I could see why it was hypnotic and why it was so popular.  As

I left the Chapel before the service finished and crossed the Quad to see if there was anything

in my pigeon‑hole in the Porter's Lodge I was accosted by none other than Mr Finch‑

Hampton.  It was the first time I'd spoken to him since the day when Charles had introduced

us again..

     "Can see you don't approve of that row over there," he began, "Why they allow it I

don't know and the whole thing's a farce anyway."

     "It's not I don't approve, it's just not my scene.  I prefer my worship to be old‑style.

What I was brought up to, I suppose."

     "Huh, indoctrinated no doubt with all that out‑moded pap.  It's all the same whether

you're bowing and scraping to idols or guzzling the so‑called blood and body.  It's all a

hysterical nonsense!"

     "I agree somewhat," I said, "There's much which would appear to be nonsense, but if

people wish to believe and find it helps in their life then we shouldn't criticise."

     He stared at me.  "I really thought you'd be one of those Holy Rollers.  You've

thought about it, though?"

     "Yes," I said, "I'm not sure over many things but I do take comfort from some of the

ideas."

     "More sensible than I would have thought.  But we shouldn't be purveying all that

rubbish in this day and age.  The College has better things to do than waste good money on

that building and its contents."

     I was trying to keep calm.  "My father is coming to give a recital in that place to help

the College with its finances," I said.  "I hope you'll attend.  I can assure you it will be good."

I couldn't resist it.  "And a good use for that building!"

     With a "I have tickets" he turned on his heel and stalked off.

     What a peculiar altercation I thought as I walked back to the set.  I could see why

Charles was so worried about him.  I wondered how Drew would really take it if the Chapel

was actually closed.  There was the motion on closure to be set before the College Council

and the move to break the Pennefather Trust.  I wondered what support all that had?

     Tris greeted me with a hug and a kiss as I went into the main room.  "I guess you're

the best lover in the world," he said, "I couldn't imagine anything better than last night."

     I stroked his back.  "I wouldn't want anything better," I said nuzzling his neck, "Just

you, me and our combined hormones."

     He shook his head.  "It's more than just hormones.  It's indefinable.  It's you, me and

that funny little word.....   ......love."

     We kissed tenderly and just felt as one.

     As usual all good things come to an end.  Our reverie was disturbed by a thump on

the outer door.  Ivo and Adam.

     "Just saying that Drew's got something going," said Ivo, "He may be an insufferable

little prick but he's livened up that place."

     "You're only saying that because it gives you an excuse to rub your body up and

down against 'Tory on one side and that cross‑eyed wench the other side.  Keeps your little

willy at attention, doesn't it!" said Adam, doing a shimmy with arms raised and rotating his

pelvis.

     "Just because Titty's off to London again and you've had to rely on Mrs Palm."  Ivo

flipped him two fingers.  He turned to Tris who was nearest.  "I hear Polly's got a beau now

so he's been rejected there, too."

     Poor Adam.  That was a nasty blow.  Quite below the belt and not really like Ivo.  It

seemed that Tris was having his work cut out putting the world to rights.

     "I wouldn't say Adam has been rejected.  I understood, in the first place, he'd been

ejected from your rooms to accommodate your desires and Oliver had taken him in and they

had comforted each other in their joint loneliness," he said in his best adversarial manner.

He couldn't keep it up.  "And you've been listening to him slapping his meat no doubt since,

while you've been indulging in a similar activity," he laughed, "And from what we witnessed

Friday night there might be a Detective Sergeant in your family soon.  Wow!  You should

have seen the stares when Whippet just about had him by the short and curlies...."

     "...Bastard," said Adam, "Thought I'd get a bit more support from you.  But then the

pair of you were just about shagging those kids...."  He laughed and shook his head.  "...God,

they were a lovely pair... ..never got a look in.    And anyway it wasn't short and it wasn't

curly... ..it was a rigid straight‑up seven inches all evening..."

     "You mean Whippet's, don't you?" I said.  I tried to emulate a Toad sneer and held

my finger and thumb apart about three inches.  "That's more like yours."

     "Ivo!" he said, "I'm being attacked on all sides!"

     "Defend  yourself.  I've been accused of the solitary vice as well by this pair.  Christ,

they were so dumb when they were kids they would never have  found out what use their

little spouts were for if we hadn't taken them in hand!"

     "You did, literally," I said, "And speaking for myself, I am eternally grateful."  I

pointed at Tris.  "He's the only one I know who's suffered the ultimate rejection..."  All

turned and looked at him.  "..Yeah, his hand went to sleep while he was wanking one night!"

     I was set on by all three.  I had to cry 'Pax' as my carefully coiffed hair and neatly

pressed shirt would have been crumpled.

     Having sorted ourselves out we set off for Professor Tanner's place.  I was glad Toad

had left me that bike as I needed it today.  On the way Ivo told me about whom we would

probably meet.

     "You realise the Prof's gay don't you," he said.  I had a good idea from his response

to Tris and me at the interview and nodded.  "His companion is someone he was here with.

They were at separate colleges and he's a solicitor in the city.  His name is Phillips, Paul

Phillips.   You'll like him, got a great sense of humour.  They've got a bungalow now

because about four years ago a colleague of Mr Phillips was in a serious car accident and

he's still getting over it.  He's South African and there's some story he was exiled over here

as a schoolboy but I'm not sure.  He's gay too, and his companion is another South African

who's a banker of some sort and I haven't met him.  You and Tris will be well away.  Adam

and I have been to lunch a couple of times because the Prof is President of the College Rugby

Club and I was Secretary most of last year."

     A potted listing and I was intrigued.  Even at school I'd heard stories about the

homosexual groups and ties which were supposedly extant in Cambridge.  Everyone knew

anyway of Philby and Maclean the spies, so there was a certain anti‑gay sentiment around ‑

especially in the press.  But, having known Professor Tanner  for such a short while I wasn't

too sure of his inclinations, though I should have guessed.  He'd certainly never put the

moves on me.  It would be interesting to observe him at home

     At home seemed no different than anywhere else, except all present were male.  Paul

Phillips was presiding over the pre‑prandial drinks.  Good stiff gins and tonic.  The crippled

solicitor was Jacob Van Zyl.  A most strikingly handsome middle‑aged man.  There were a

couple of photographs of him on the wall as a young man in rowing kit and he was truly

beautiful.  He was being wheeled around by a young man in his early twenties who was

introduced as Barry Hall.  His face seemed familiar and I didn't like to ask why.  Anyway

conversation flowed freely and Tris and I were soon in conversation with Mr Van Zyl.  In

fact, they all insisted we used Christian names.   Tris was asked what he wanted to do when

he finished his degree.  Did he want to study for the Bar and become a barrister like his

father?  We had already discussed this many times and although he wanted to work in the law

he didn't think that was the route he wanted to take.  He said he would probably like to take

articles and train as a solicitor.  I didn't get a look in after that as he and Jacob were in deep

conversation.  I talked to Barry.  The penny dropped.  Prof, or James as he insisted we called

him, said he'd been at school with Barry's father, Billy.  Yes, Billy Hall ‑ his craggy face was

well‑known on televison and in a number of British‑made films as an actor.  Barry wasn't

craggy but the family likeness was there.

     Barry said he was doing a catering course.  I wondered if I should ask him if he knew

Danny.  But I didn't know Danny's surname and also I didn't know if Danny would relish

being known as a habitue of the gay Club.  Barry said he was in charge of the lunch menu

today ‑ roast beef with all the trimmings ‑ and would have to go and check.  I offered to help

as I said I'd often had to get meals ready when Mum was busy.  So, I went off to the kitchen

and we had plenty to talk about.

     He said James Tanner had taken him in as he'd gone off the rails rather badly as a

teenager.  In the end he'd gone on the usual trek to India and the Himalayas and got more

heavily involved in drugs and finally had been shipped back to England in a rather derelict

state after being found by an Indian ex‑student of Dr Tanner's.  What had brought him to his

senses was being asked to look after Jacob.  I then heard that the car accident was a mystery.

Jacob had been driving back one evening after visiting a client in Huntingdon and next thing

he knew he woke in hospital with a fractured pelvis and both legs broken.  All he

remembered was a flash of red as another car must have side‑swiped the front of his.  The

injuries were being dealt with slowly as the pelvis had to be reconstructed and both hips and

knees had to be replaced.  Barry said he one more set of procedures to be done and it was

hoped he would be able to walk again.  Barry said they'd never found the car or its owner

although there was evidence of what had happened from the red paint left on Jacob's car.

     All this time I was happily pouring the already resting batter into patty tins ready for

cooking as Yorkshire puddings.  I mixed the gravy and supervised the final browning of

lovely roast spuds.  Barry then gave me a quick lesson on how to carve a joint properly.  Not

hack it as I had done on many occasions at home.  Dad always said he couldn't carve and

here I was being taught by an expert.  Barry laughed when I told him that.  He said he'd

actually learned to carve in a monastery in the Indian foothills where the monks lived mainly

on the young kids from their flocks of goats.

     Sunday lunch was a great success then.  I did get praise for my gravy.  No lumps,

Jacob said and was rewarded with the threat of no second helpings by Barry who said gravy

was one of his specialties as he should know.

     Ivo and Adam were in their element.  Adam told about finding the rhyme and the

scratches in the cell.  James Tanner said there were many strange stories of happenings in the

College.  It was then I learned more about Augustus Pennefather.

     James said as an undergraduate he'd had a Dr Bell as his tutor who had, as an

undergraduate himself, been in the College choir just after the first World War with Augustus

in charge.  He said he'd been a superb musician but was very shy and almost a recluse and

the story was around even then that he'd had a secret son.  He'd also been a very keen

photographer and some of the stories were that he was very much like Lewis Carroll was, but

with boys rather than girls.

     I had Grandad's photo in my wallet so I took it out and showed him.  James looked at

it closely and pointed.  "I've seen others like this and they're all the same.  He must have

photographed his choirboys many times and he always put an A in the right hand corner.

Here it is."

     He handed the photo back and there it was.  A small, faint but clear A which I hadn't

noticed.  The others all wanted a look.  "You must have looked just like him when you were

younger," said Jacob.

     "It's the big ears," said Adam.

     "He's your Grandfather as well," I said, "And your lugs aren't all that small."

     "Come to think of it, you three are strikingly similar in looks.  You're a bit darker,"

said Jacob.

     "That's his Italian background," said Ivo.  "The family Matteoli, eh Mark?"

     "Matteoli?" said Jacob.  "I know that name.  There's a designer isn't there?"

     "His Uncle Francesco," chimed in Adam before I had a chance to answer.

     Jacob nodded.  "Yes, there's been a lot in the press about the company expanding.

Probably opening up outlets over here."

     That did it.  We then had to tell the tale of the summer holiday, Aldo and Charles, and

Toad and Nesto's good fortune.  I was wearing the signet ring so that was circulated as well.

As Adam and Ivo had plenty of gossip to impart I helped Barry clear away and put things in

the dishwasher.  I asked him if he did anything in his spare time.  He grimaced, then smiled.

     "I've got to behave myself.  I don't know where I would be if Uncle James hadn't

offered to take me in.  I owe him a lot and Jacob's been a terrific help."  He shook his head.

"If I hadn't have had him to look after I think I might have gone AWOL again.  I've promised

to do the catering course and I'm keeping clear of anything ...."

     "....You mean drugs?"  I asked.

     "Yeah!" he said and looked at me straight in the eyes, "If you're ever offered.  Don't!

It's taken me nearly two years to get clean..." He shook his head again.  ".....and there's no

way I want to go through what I've been through again."  He smiled.  "My Dad and Mum's

put up with a lot.  I can't let them down again.   And I certainly can't let them all here down,

either.  So, I go to College, I learn, I come home.. ...and I look after Jacob."

     "Do you have any friends here?"

     "No, all my so‑called friends were in London ‑ far enough away.  I don't want them

and the only reason they wanted me was because Dad kept me supplied with money."

     "If you need a friend or two I'm certain we'd be around," I grinned at him, "That is, if

you don't mind most of us being gay, or not sure!"

     He laughed.  "Don't worry.  I'm not gay, but I did have to earn a bit of money at times

in the past.  Uncle James has put me right over all that.  He knows what I had to do. This is a

gay household.  It's happy and I'm happy."   He smiled.  "You and Tristan.  You're happy I

can see and I would certainly like to have friends like you."  He laughed again.  "And the

twins!  I've met them before here.  You're lucky to have them as cousins..."

     "....and friends," I said.  I made a decision.  "If you don't mind visiting a gay Club

you could join some of us next Saturday.  It's clean.  We have a police presence..."  I told

him about the set‑up and I gave him Tris's and my e‑mail addresses.  Tris's mainly as he kept

an eye on mine as well.  Barry said he would talk it over with Uncle James, as he called the

Prof.

     When we got back I told Tris of my conversation.  He said he had a feeling Barry had

been led astray and he liked the look of him.  But,....  The 'but' was that we had to make sure

both he and us were not tempted.  We knew the Club was clean and we would have to make

sure any contacts were OK.

     Monday was a busy day.   Eight o'clock service, followed by organ practice with two

lectures later in the morning, then I was meeting up with Louie as he was going through some

problems with me.  He said it was good for him, too, as it revised stuff he would need next

term.  A quick lunch, tutorial with the Prof at two followed by the usual brainstorming

session with the girls.  More work on the Maths after that, food, and whatever was left of the

evening checking if I had everything ready for the rest of the week.

     The lectures raised quite a few new points and I was glad I could ask Louie a few

things before parading my ignorance to the Prof, or, even more so, to the girls.  Louie

laughed when I moaned about the work.  He asked me to go over one of the problems

without him saying anything.  I did.  His only response was 'Oh, my God, you've done it in

half the time it would have taken me and the reasoning is clearer than what I would have put

down.  I don't see what you have to worry about.'  In fact, we did a couple more and he said I

was OK so I then told him about yesterday's lunch.  I had just got to the bit about Augustus

and that Prof's tutor had been a Choral Scholar when he laughed even more.

     "You didn't twig, then?" he said.

     "Twig what?"

     "You've heard of the Bell‑Tanner conjecture, haven't you?"

     "No.  Should I?"

     He shook his head.  "You have one of the greatest mathematicians in Cambridge as

your tutor and you don't know his fame?"

     I shook my head.  I heard then about his interview with Dr Bell when as a schoolboy

he'd solved a difficult problem and then he hadn't realised the set of problems Dr Bell had

set him to do after the two days of tutoring were really extremely tricky.  He had been a

starred First and had stayed on to do a doctorate and he had worked on a particular aspect of

set theory and quite fortuitously both he and Dr Bell arrived one morning for a supervision

with the same problem which had occurred to them independently overnight.  It was a

conjecture about what could happen if two rather abstruse ways of thinking about sets were

related.  If so, then certain even more complex forms might be generated which would solve

some very fundamental theorems.  It was still a conjecture, Louie said, and he had no idea

what it was all about.

     So, here was I, Mark Foster, probably wasting the time when James Tanner should be

thinking about his conjecture.  And here was I, wasting time not thinking about the end of

term concert and my requirements for the players to accompany the singers for the cantata.  I

would have to ask some of the players from the University Orchestra.

     Wednesday evening I was armed with my requirements.  From my seat as second

clarinet I looked around.  I needed another oboe to add to Fiona and Oliver.  I had been told

Dr Al‑Hamed's wife was an oboist.  He was in the flutes.  I saw him talk to a lady with an

oboe, so in the tea break in the rehearsal I buttonholed him and his wife was introduced and,

yes, she would play.  Actually at the end of the rehearsal he presented me with a list of names

of players for all the instruments needed.  Two horns, two violins, cello, double bass, bassoon

and timpani.  Rehearsals to be arranged!

     But, it wasn't all work and no play!  Play definitely took place each evening as soon

as Tris and I decided it was time to go to bed.   Most evenings he worked quietly in the main

room while I cogitated on Maths in my study until both our brains ached. ‑ so we said.  Tris

was now more or less a permanent inhabitant of my rooms and especially the bedroom.  It

was there we talked over our days and loved into the night.  We were so together in our love

making we didn't have to hurry.  But, on the other hand, nothing was deliberate.  Whoever

was feeling particularly randy at that moment took the lead.  Most nights we came at least

twice each and in the mornings after our run with the others we generally shed another load

of our accumulated nighttime juices.  Several times when Oliver stayed and showered with

us we relived that morning when the three of us creamed the wall tiles with gay abandon.

But, with Oliver that was as far as we went.

     In fact, Oliver was now spending a good deal of time with Gabriel and as he told us

more than once, he was still a virgin and wasn't letting Gabriel's unexpectedly slim prick,

given his general bodily configuration, anywhere near his precious rosebud.  Oliver could be

quite poetic at times.  He and Gabe knew they were not 'together', they were good friends

and were able to share that friendship with plenty of sexual relief, but not to allow the

ultimate.  It was quite surprising one night when Gabriel and Oliver had joined us for a

snifter of brandy before bedtime that Gabriel told us he was a confirmed 'bottom'.

     "Not asking for anything, mates," he said, "But I miss me old pal, Fabs.  Made me

feel bloody wanted!"  We heard more about Fabrico.  A second generation Aussie of Polish

and Italian descent.  Gabe looked at me.  "Got a bloody good'un, has Fabs.  Says it's his

bloody heritage, says nothing touches the Poles or the Italians....."  He left the rest unsaid.

     Bloody Tris!  "I can assure you, Gabe, Fabs is wrong if he thinks just Poles  and

Italians are like that.  In Marky's case it's his bloody good Italian and English heritage which

combined, I should think, gives him the edge.  Anyway, whatever it's like the old adage goes

'long and thin goes well in, but short and thick does the trick'."  He laughed..  "We witnessed

the second in action in Italy and it's certainly true."

     "Tris, stop telling tales.  That was between Guido and Nesto...."  Oh, shit!  I'd let the

cat out of the bag.  So, who cares....  Tris told the whole story, suitably embellished with

sound effects and exaggerated descriptions.

     Highly delighted with the tale the pair took off to Oliver's rooms and I guess a good

night was had by all.  Having witnessed Oliver's in action I doubted if Fabs had anything

more than that to boast about!   Anyway, after all that I was particularly randy and Tris was

on his back and 'long and fat, that was that!' was his reward."

     Friday night came and I was reminded that the girls would be having a night out at the

Club.  After they danced the conga through the three main rooms with everyone present

joining in it was a boys and girls night out.  Tris, Oliver, Carlo and Dave were

commandeered by most of the Ladies' Rugby team it seemed and Josh was much in evidence

overshadowing the ebullient Gabe for once.  Carlo and Tris were especially welcome as they

knew all the usual rugby jokes and even heard one or two, which Tris related to me later in

bed, which were new, such as female scrum halves don't kick back when they're taken from

behind, and some a bit sexist, like, how do you know if the boyfriend's had an orgasm?  He's

snoring!  I grabbed him by the goolies with one hand and tousled his fair hair with the other.

"Why are blondes like doorknobs?" I asked.  All I got was a muffled yelp as I stuck my

mouth over his, then moved it to his ear.  "Because everyone gets a turn!  My turn now!!"  So

Tris got fucked twice that week!

     Saturday night was boys' night and Tris had e‑mailed Barry to say we would be at the

Club at ten o'clock.  I waited near the door and was surprised when he was driven up ‑ by

Jacob.  He waved as he drove off.  Barry looked a bit embarrassed.

     "Shouldn't have let him," he said, "I should have taken a taxi but he insisted."  He

smiled then.  "Keeping an eye on me."

     "He drives then?"

     "Oh, yes.  The car's specially adapted and it's hand controlled."

     I led him in.  The usual bouncer had been forewarned and I'd already paid his

entrance fee.

     He nudged me as the wave of music hit him.  "Been in a few clubs in my time," he

said, "Usually pissed out of my mind or stoned.  Quite a few gay ones, too.  Tell you

sometime."

     I guided him through to our usual booth.  Brad and the other two leathermen were

there.  Barry did a double take.  "Uncle Brad!  Didn't expect to see you here.  I thought you

were still in London in the Met."

     "Mark told me you were coming and I didn't let on."  He laughed and looked round at

us.  "His Mum is my sister.  And, no, I'm not gay if that's what you're thinking, Barry!"

     The next hour was full of family stories.  Brad had lost sight of Barry once he was

sixteen or so and had run away from home.  He'd had police searches done but as Barry had

skipped off to Holland and then worked his way to India by undefined means he'd only heard

where he was once he'd settled in Cambridge when James Tanner had taken him in.  It was

thought politic that he should keep his distance in case Barry thought he was been monitored

but Jacob had phoned him during the week to say what was planned.  So Uncle Brad's little

secret was also out!  Actually, Barry was very pleased to see his Uncle and any possible

uneasiness was not evident.  I even got Barry to dance and he said he'd had quite a lot of

experience as a kid going to stage schools as he thought he might follow in his Dad's

footsteps.  Even if he said he wasn't gay he and Dave had a real smoochy slow dance and I

was given a huge wink by Dave and shown a surreptitious hard fist.  Neither Danny nor Jonty

were there and Dave said he thought they'd managed to go to Brighton for the weekend to

stay with a friend of Jonty's.

     I'd said we usually wound up just before one a.m. and Barry grinned when we started

to say our general goodbyes.  "Mustn't be late or I'll turn into a pumpkin!" he said, "Jacob

said he'd be waiting and you lot are to come to lunch again next week if I'm all in one

piece!"  He looked at his Uncle.  "You'll get an invite, too.  And wait till I phone Mum."  He

looked at the others.  "That'll be another eight or nine so what Uncle James will say, I don't

know.  We'll manage."

     My Monday tutorial with James Tanner was a hoot.  He wanted a rundown on the

crowd, who was who, etc., etc.!  I apologised profusely.

     "No apologies needed," he said, laughing.  "Barry needs company and from the happy

lad we had in the bungalow yesterday he's over another hurdle.  Brad's been in the

background and it was just accidental you lot and he went to the same club."  He laughed.

"No such things when I was an undergrad.  But, like you and Tris I had Paul, and Jacob was a

good companion as well.  You'll meet Pauli next week.  I think they told you he works for

some special finance setup and he travels a lot.  Anyway, we won't have a proper sit‑down

lunch ‑ Barry can plan something for his sins  ‑ now, what is the integral of......"

     It was another busy week.  Dad, Mum and the Toad were arriving Friday morning

with Roger.  Dad would be rehearsing in the Chapel during the afternoon and I was able to

announce every ticket was sold and there would be extra chairs at the back.  In fact I, Tris,

Matt, Oliver, Charles and the Toad would be in the organ loft.  Uncle Francesco and Aldo

flew in that morning and the family, that is, including Charles, all met for tea at the Garden

House Hotel where they were all staying.  The first thing a laughing Unc did was to present

us lads with dark‑red headbands with the prominent M.  In fact, he produced about twenty for

distribution and said the local sports shop would be stocking enough to satisfy all the sweaty

hordes.  Toad was in his element.  More cash to come as he also knew that wristbands and a

line in sports socks he'd suggested were also in production!!

     As expected the Chapel was crowded.  There was a buzz of excitement as everyone

who was anyone in Cambridge came in.  Peering over the edge of the organ loft I was really

pleased when I saw a row of Brad, Whippet and Carlo with Dave and several others from the

Club.  Jacob was wheeled in by Barry and I noted another middle‑aged man standing by him

as he was positioned.  I assumed that was Pauli, his companion.  Last to arrive was the

Master's party, including the Vice‑Chancellor and the Heads of some other colleges.  He

looked up at the organ loft and smiled.

     The recital was wonderful.  All French pieces.  Firstly the short Debussy Sonata in g

minor.  A querulous work ‑ the quiet opening held the audience and as the soaring phrases

developed so there was rapt attention.  I was particularly taken with the scurrying phrases at

the beginning of the second movement with the piano chords punctuating them which sent

shivers down my back..  The last movement with the interplay of piano and violin electrified

the audience.  Roger's dexterity with the rapid piano part and his oneness with Dad's

virtuosity was really something to experience.  As the work came to its conclusion there was

a real feeling of rapport between audience and players.  There was a moment's silence then

great applause.

     Roger then played two of Satie's Gymnopedies.  Their seeming artlessness disguising

a very subtle musical mind.  Ravel's Sonata in G followed, and after more solo Satie the first

half ended with a Romance for the duo by Faure.   The interval was filled with chat, as well

as coffee, squash or wine, depending on one's tastes.  I talked to the Club crowd and

introduced Unc and Aldo to them.   Perhaps a line of leatherwear ‑ not in evidence tonight ‑

might be a venture.  Charles was engaging all around him in animated conversation and I saw

the Master and Vice‑Chancellor surrounded by the girls in the choir much to their wives'

amusement.  Tris was chatting to the Prof and his party with the Chaplain and his wife much

in evidence with the out of College visitors. On the sidelines I saw Mr Finch‑Hampton with

two of the elderly dons I'd only seen eating at High Table.  Everyone seemed very convivial.

     The second half was just the Franck Sonata.  Dad introduced it by saying he had

played it here when he was fourteen and he was playing it tonight in memory of that occasion

and his Father on a special violin.   A gift ‑ I saw him look over to where Dr Al‑Hamed was

sitting ‑ and a gift he prized because it was a violin with a most distinctive and wonderful

tone and he hoped he could do the work and the instrument justice.  From the very first

hushed phrase there was not a movement in the Chapel.  It was as if all were spellbound.

The melodies did weave a peculiar magic.  They soared and resonated in the lofty building

and those phrases I knew would haunt my thoughts for ever.  As passage followed passage

and movement followed movement one knew we were in the presence of true artistry.  The

simple phrases at the beginning of the last movement gradually blossomed into that great

melodic ending.  There was again complete silence as the last note rang out and died away.

Tris was clutching my hand so hard as that ending came I could do nothing.  Tears were

running down his cheeks ‑ and mine also. The applause was deafening and went on and on.

Dad and Roger took four bows.  There was no encore.  We all knew that the Franck could not

be followed by anything else that evening.

     As soon as Dad appeared finally without his violin Uncle Francesco rushed up to him

and hugged him and planted kisses on both his cheeks.  There was another round of applause

then which was redoubled when Roger, rather hesitantly, also appeared from the small

vestry.   The Master was wiping his eyes.  In fact, I think the majority of the audience had

been emotionally moved and drained by such an encounter, no, a full immersion in that great

work.  I felt so happy and exhilarated  that my Father was able to give us such an experience.

     After the performance family and friends, a whole host, repaired to my rooms where

Uncle Francesco had arranged for a buffet to be set up.  Jason, who had been on the door at

the recital, was in charge with both Sean and young Liam as helpers.  He and Toad kept

exchanging glances and I saw Toad give all three a headband each.

     I was in the kitchen snooping at the extra food still to be taken in when Toad came

through to go to the loo.  "Got something for you," he said as he rushed to the bedroom and

came back with a Marks and Spencer bag.  "It's yours really." The Toad nose‑twitch.  "I

borrowed it when we had the rehearsal and I had a slight accident.  It's OK it's been

washed."

     I opened the bag rather gingerly.  Oh, yes, my missing jockstrap!  I thought it had got

mixed up with our joint muddle of shorts, socks, tops and so on which now inhabited quite a

bit of my wardrobe shelf space.  As Tris and I were just about equal in size and shape it

didn't matter who wore what for our morning runs but I had noticed that one vital piece of

equipment was rather depleted in number.

     "Accident?"  I said, knowing full well he'd blown a load of boycream in his

excitement.  "You'd better keep it.  It'll probably fit once your balls have dropped."  I

reached out and grabbed him as his eyes filled with tears.  "What's the matter Frankie?"

     "Oh, Marky.  Thanks, but I'm really so worked up with Dad's playing.  He was

wonderful wasn't he?  I only hope I can be as good as him."

     I gave my almost as tall as me little brother a great hug.  "I hope we both can," I

stroked the back of his neck.  "Sorry if I took the mick then, but you do seem to have a hair‑

trigger reaction.  Still it shows all systems are working OK.  Shan't say keep it up as you'll

take it the wrong way."

     His response was to kiss me fully on the lips.  A real kiss.  "Thanks Marky," he

breathed out as we disengaged.  "Oh God!  Better get back to the food before it happens

again."  The nose twitch before he scampered off with a good hearty slap on his young bum.

     Tris and Oliver came in just as he went skipping out leaving me still holding the bag.

I opened it and showed them.  "Toad didn't cream his own undies.  I said he can have it as

it's probably still rather aromatic."

     Tris grabbed the bag from me, opened it and inhaled deeply.  "Nah," he said, "Just

Persil and a bit of fabric conditioner.  Otherwise I'd pinch it and have it wrapped round....."

     I grabbed back the bag.  "That's my little brother....."

     Oliver wrapped an arm round Tris's shoulder.  "You could always borrow mine and I

wouldn't mind yours!"

     I hit both with the bag and the three of us just giggled.

     Saturday evening saw us again at the Club.  Brad and the others all said how much

they'd enjoyed the recital.  I had been rather surprised to have seen them there but found they

all liked classical music and were most complimentary about Dad's playing.  Adam had

tagged along with us and it wasn't long before he was with Whippet on the dance floor

following Carlo and Dave with Oliver and one of the lads who were always somewhere near

our booth.

     Brad was smiling as we watched the shirtless couples circle the floor. "I think our

Whippet's in love," he said, "And I mean that seriously."  He was sitting between Tris and

me and looked from one to the other of us.  "I hope Adam knows what's happening but my

lad's been off his food a bit this week.  Real moony."  He laughed.  "I say 'my lad' as he's

very much another son to me.  He confides a bit more than my rapscallion does.  Whippet

says he's really fallen for Adam and should he say anything.  I said he should see how it goes,

just remember Carlo and that dickhead he was fucking about with.  That's settled nicely with

Dave, now."  He nodded.  "I can see that in his work, too.  But, Whippet....."

     I said I was sure Adam was not certain about his sexuality and perhaps Whippet

might be good for him.  But if Whippet was infatuated...  Who knows?  Tris said he hoped

neither got hurt and we could sound Adam out when we got back to College.  Would Brad

mind if we told Adam about Whippet's feelings?

     "No, I think he may be going to say something tonight.  Suggest Adam might like a

couple of days in London.  Whippet's brother's got a flat he uses for clients.  He's a solicitor

for one of the big firms.  Quite a bit older ‑ I think his mother had Whippet late in life."  He

laughed.  "I'm very fond of Whippet and, yes, I would be very sorry to see him hurt.  I think

Adam's a very steady lad and Whippet's no idiot."

     Our conversation was interrupted by the entry of a radiant looking Gabe.  He was

shepherding a tall, very good‑looking lad of about twenty.

     "Hi, how's you lot?" he didn't wait for a reply, "This is Lorenzo," He looked at me.

"We met at your Dad's recital last night.  His Mum's Italian like yours." He turned to

Lorenzo and clasped his hand.  "Lorenzo, this is Mark, my good mate I was telling you about.

And these are my other good mates, Brad and Tris."  We all dutifully shook hands and Bulgy‑

Boy appeared with a tray laden with glasses.  "Knew there would be a crowd in so I got the

usuals," said Gabe with a beaming smile.

     We shifted along and Lorenzo turned out to be a most enjoyable companion.  He was

reading Modern Languages at Clare, was friendly with Dr Al‑Hamed's son and they'd come

to the recital.  Lorenzo had sat next to Gabe and that was that.  In fact as Gabe told me later

when we were standing at adjoining urinals "Bloody Josh was away shagging Carry so

Lorenzo moved in with me last night." He shook a rather slim prick to get the drops off.

"Didn't get up until bloody lunchtime.  You bloody Italians and  fucking Poles,"  Then with

greater emphasis.  "All bloody well‑hung... ...and he's a bloody top!"  The smile was

seraphic.  So Gabe had found a soul‑mate.  Or, perhaps, a hole‑mate!  "Good on ya," was the

only possible reply as I shook my own Italian and English heritage.  I looked down.  Yeah!

Well‑hung!

     When we got back the others were crowded round the booth and Gabe was toasted.

Lorenzo took it all in good part and just about dragged Gabe off about midnight.  As they

disappeared Tris raised his glass.  "To Josh, free at last to indulge his passions and to Gabe

whose passions will be freely indulged, and, especially, to Lorenzo, for indulging that

passion!"

     Sunday lunch at the Prof's was hilarious.  What I didn't know was that Brad and

Whippet were also accomplished singers and with me at the piano, sight‑reading, we

entertained the assembled group with numerous songs from various shows after a huge buffet

spread.  I particularly enjoyed 'I've gonna wash that guy outta my hair' from South Pacific

and 'You'll never walk alone' from Carousel.  The highlight was when a very happy Barry

took the leading role from 'Sound of Music' and a bunch of very over‑grown Von Trapps did

'Do Re Mi'.  Another one for Clarissa to contemplate as well.  I could just see Charles as an

un‑frocked nun with seven of the largest boaties and rugger‑buggers as the kiddies draped in

net curtains, perhaps!  The holier the better!!  And I didn't mean the nun!

     Christmas was coming up fast.  Actually the end of term concert went well.  Again

the Chapel was full and even Drew's group got a good response at the end of the first half

with a lot of swaying and humming along.  I was very taken with Matt's two contributions of

organ pieces and my first venture into conducting went off without a hitch.  Dr Al‑Hamed

had given me a number of good hints on keeping the choir and orchestra together and also

how to keep a recitative flowing and I'd rehearsed my soloists, Dina as soprano, 'Tory as

Alto, Tris as tenor and Adam as bass, until I was really satisfied.  The choir and instrumental

ensemble came up trumps, too, so I came away very pleased.

     So term came to an end.  Back to London and then down to Dorset to meet someone

who had known Grandad as a boy.