Some of the Characters Appearing  

Mark Henry Foster    The storyteller

Tristan (Tris) Price‑Williams  His well‑proportioned boyfriend

Dr Eric Mays   Master of St Mark's

Dr Percival Matthews   Dean of St Mark's

Rev Dr Basil Henson   A very astute Chaplain

Dr Crispin Palfrey  An erudite archaeologist

Dr Jenny Masterton  A second informed archaeologist

Mr Nathanial Temple  A third, younger, archaeologist

Mr Aubrey Fullerton QC   An eminent Law don

Charles Fane‑Stuart  Research Student and Assistant to the Bursar

Ivo Carr   Mark's cousin and recent graduate

Dr Porter  The Modern Languages don

     I checked off each letter and wrote the corresponding uncoded letter underneath.

          P   Z   L   N   L   B   O

          T   H   E   R   E   I   S

     "Could it be in English this time?" I asked.

     "We must check the rest," the Master said.

     I carried on to the end not daring to read:

          G   H   X   Q   B   D   L

          N   O   G   U   I   L   E

          F   O   Z   B   O   P   H

          A   S   H   I   S   T   O

          U   B   G   T   B   F   E

          F   I   N   D   I   A   M

          Z   B   O   F   E   L   G

          H   I   S   A   M   E   N

     I quickly wrote out the letters in the words I could read.  Yes, they were English:

          THERE  IS  NO  GUILE  AS  HIS  TO  FIND  I  AM  HIS  AMEN

     The Master picked up my pad, read the sequence silently and passed it to the

Chaplain.  As he did this Mr Fullerton came in, full of apologies as he had only just got back

from London.  Quickly the Master explained what had been done and that the parchment was

found resting on the topmost box.

     "My opinion," the eminent QC said with a laugh, "At least what is in that topmost

box belongs to the person cracking the code.  If the code wasn't cracked and the room

opened any other way then the box would belong...."  Here he paused.  "My opinion again,

but it will have to be argued.  The whole lot might be treasure trove, in any case under the

1996 Act we'll have to inform the Coroner.  Leave that to me.   I think as it was deliberately

placed here with intent then it belongs to whomsoever owns the rights in the building.  But

we will have to see what comes with the boxes."  He smiled at me.  "I think it's between you

and the College, Mark.  And by the way, in case there are any more bodies or disputes the

DCI is outside.  I brought him over from the Porter's Lodge.  I'll go and get him.  He's

outside looking at the hole."

     I handed the pad to Dr Palfrey.  "May I bring that box up?" he asked.

     Both I and the Master nodded.  The two archaeologists went off and soon returned,

wearing white gloves, with Dr Palfrey carrying the box carefully on a tray.  It was placed on

the table and I and the Master were handed white cotton gloves as well.  We waited while Mr

Fullerton, Bradley and Sergeant Woolpit came in.

     The Master looked at me and smiled.  "Open it, Mark."

     The box was about a foot square and, although dusty, the carvings on the lid could be

seen clearly.  They looked like a representation of the Holy Family, but that would have to

come later.  The lid was hinged and if it hadn't been opened since 1534 it was surprisingly

easy.  It was a heavy wood and Dr Palfrey put a hand to steady it as the inside was revealed.

In the casket was a book.  No dust.  It appeared leather bound.  I looked at Dr Palfrey.

     "Lift it out carefully and put it on the pillow."

     Dr Masterton put a padded pillow on the table.  I lifted out the book and laid it on the

pillow as instructed.  "Now, very carefully, lift the cover," she said.

     Inside, the first page was revealed.  We all gasped.  A brightly painted and inscribed

page with intricate small pictures in red, green and blue with gold edges and in black the

words 'in principio erat verbum' in ornate Gothic script.

     "'In the beginning was the Word'," said the Chaplain softly.

     Dr Masterton turned the page carefully.  More brightly coloured images.  An old man

with a flowing beard and a halo, surrounded by a border of stunning designs.  On the

opposite page two shields, one with three knives pointing down, the other with what looked

like three whips with several strands.

     "This is no doubt the lost Book of Hours of Crowland Abbey dedicated to St Guthlac

the founder of the Abbey in 700 or so," she said very reverently.  "This is one of the greatest

masterpieces of mediaeval art and was thought so by all those who saw it and wrote about it

before it disappeared.  It was thought to have been destroyed when the Abbey was sacked by

the looters after the monks were turned out."  She turned another page.  "This is the Calendar

and then it will be in eight sections corresponding to the hours of the day.  Look," She turned

another page.  "The prayers to the Virgin, 'obsecco te,' here, and 'O intemerata' there .  'I

beseech thee' and 'O Immaculate Virgin'."

     She turned another page and a doubled over piece of parchment was there.  She

picked it up and laid it on the pillow beside the book.  As it opened a gold coin slid out.

     "Oh no!" said Dr Palfrey, shaking his head, "It can't be!"  He bent over it and put a

magnifier in his eye.  "Oh, yes it is.  It's one of the rarest coins known.  I think there are only

about three known to be in existence.  It's the double leopard of Edward the Third.   Look

there's Edward with orb and sceptre on this side...," He carefully turned the coin.  "....Yes, and there are four leopards around the cross on the other."

     "Leopard," I said, "Leopardi.  My Uncle and Aldo.  Aldo is Count Leopardi!"

     Tris put his arm round me.  "It's strange.  The boy said you would find treasure of

every sort.   We must tell Aldo and Uncle Francesco as soon as possible.  I think it means

they will succeed here, too."

     I don't think the others heard our bit of conversation as they were too busy studying

the book and the coin.  Dr Masterton closed the book.  "May I say I am privileged to be able

to see this.  I studied the Guthlac Roll in the British Library as part of my doctorate.  I hope I

will be allowed to study this as well.  It must be carefully preserved and handled.  It is in

superb condition but it should be kept dry and airtight."  She shook her head.  "The

conditions in that chamber seem to have been ideal."

     Dr Palfrey turned to the Master.  "I wonder if we might bring the other boxes up and

put them somewhere where we can open them."

     "The Chapel, eh, Dr Henson?  Would you also supervise, please, Mr Fullerton?"

     "Of course," the Chaplain said.  "Charles, here is my key.  Take the Sergeant with

you as well  and Jason can arrange for those trestle tables to be put up."

     Mr Fullerton went off with Charles who had been remarkably silent so far.

     Over the next hour each box was brought up after being carefully photographed.

Each had a parchment label nailed to its lid.  The two wooden chests took them all they

could do to heave them up the steps and Liam was sent for to bring the trolley.  DCI

Wolstencroft and the Master spent a long time in quiet conversation side by side on the sofa.

I sat at the dining table and turned the pages of the most beautiful book I had ever seen.

Bright images, first put on those pages some six hundred years ago, looked as fresh as if

drawn yesterday.  The Chaplain and Tris sat beside me and while we contemplated the

myriad smaller images between the script Ivo returned.  He was quite bemused by all that

had happened and was also bursting with news of his own.  The Chaplain stood up.

     "It's all too much to take in all at once.  I'd better go to the Chapel and see what's

happening there.  If you need me I shall be around."

     The Master said he would follow.  "Look after that carefully," he said, "Whatever

happens, that's yours.  And so is that coin."

     We were left alone though I knew the third archaeologist and the helpers were still

below.  I expected they would be clearing up and checking there was nothing else.  I closed

the book and laid it back carefully in its box.  I put the coin on the parchment and folded it

and placed on the top of the book and closed the lid.  Ivo refused coffee.  He wanted to tell us

something but seemed a bit hesitant.  In the end he blurted it out.

     "I've got to tell someone just in case something goes wrong..."  He saw the

bewildered looks on our faces.  It wasn't like Ivo to get het up in this way.  ".....Oh, to start at

the beginning.  We've always thought, that's my tutor group I mean..., .....we've always

thought Dr Porter might be something to do with Intelligence.  You know, MI5 and all that.

We knew he was in Special Operations at the end of the War and he's over eighty now, but

he must still be one of their.... ....I don't know what you would call them, like a football

scout...  You know..  Well, he's just asked me if I would consider going on a special course

to learn another language with the object of being posted, I suppose, as a glorified snoop.  It's

one of those ex‑Eastern bloc countries, Rothenia... ...and there's been a reinstatement of the

monarchy and he's English as well as Rothenian.  Of course the Foreign Office has been

caught with its knickers down and there's only one other non‑native speaker available and

he's ancient as well."

     We listened attentively to this.  I'd read about the country in the papers recently.

Quite a hooha.  A failed coup or something.

     "So are you?" asked Tris.

     "What d'you think?" asked Ivo.

     "Up to you," I said, "But I'd go for it."

     "Usually cautious Marky," said Ivo with a smile, "You know you've changed.  I could

see that last night.  That visit to Ulvescott Manor?"

     "Yes," I said, "I feel quite different.  You'll find out when you've been there as well."

     "Funny," he said, "I really think that place has an influence.  And from what I've read

in the papers there's odd things happening in Rothenia.  So I'm going to be bold and resolute

‑ and we can leave the bloody out!  I have to phone a number first thing Monday morning,

apparently my boss has been told there might be developments, so I don't have to go in.  Can

I stay here?  I'll sleep on the sofa?  I'll tell 'Tory something's cropped up."

     We were just finishing that conversation when the third archaeologist came up from

the cellar with a big grin on his face.  "Hi, I hope I'm not interrupting," We shook our heads

collectively.  "By the way I'm Nat Temple," He pointed at Tris and me, "I know you two..."

     "Oh," I said, "and this is my cousin Ivo Carr.  He's just come back to visit us."

     "Thought I recognised you, too" Nat said to him, "You kicked hell out of me that game against Emmanuel..  Year before last!"  He laughed.  "Just joking.  You lent me a pair of spare shorts when mine got ripped."

     "Yep," said Ivo, also laughing, "You scored with your arse hanging out and the ref

blowing his whistle because everyone just stood and laughed."

     "My most embarrassing moment," Nat said with a bow.  "But I've got something to

show you which might be a bit embarrassing, too.  Like to come down."

     He lead the way down into the room where Aubrey Devereux had been found.

     "Just to put you all in the picture, or pictures," he began.  "I was standing over there,"

he pointed to the corner of the room, "And I noticed the whitewash on the wall there was

flaking a bit.  The only touch of damp in the room I'd say.  Being nosy I picked at it and quite

a bit came away.  Look."  Although the room was fairly well lit he shone a bright torch beam

at the corner.

     "You can see the start," he said and pointed up.  "I think it's a wall‑painting that's

been covered over with white‑wash.  I've brushed away several bits and I think it's a scene

copied from a Greek vase or krater, that's a wine‑dish."  He laughed.  "I don't think it's for

delicate eyes.  If it's the scene I think it is, it involves men and youths... ...being Greek, as it

were."

     We went closer.  There was a head of a young man in the corner and he'd brushed

away three patches and there were faint markings of bodies.  The bit half way down was half

way down a body.  A faint outline of a youth having his balls fondled.

     "I think this room was used for meetings of a certain kind," Nat went on, "There's

always been rumours about this College, especially as so many of the inhabitants had more

money than sense, to put it mildly, in years gone by.  You've heard of the Hellfire Club and Sir Francis Dashwood?"

     Tris nodded.  "Didn't they have orgies in a golden ball on a church tower?"

     "Sometime in the middle 1700's, wasn't it?" said Ivo.

     "Yes, that's right.  The ball's still on the church at High Wycombe."  He laughed.

"And there's stories they used to dance naked in the ruins of Medmenham Abbey nearby.  I

guess there were some of the lads both here and at Oxford.  I'll have to check the records

around that time.  But I ought to tell you,  I'm doing my doctorate on the wall paintings

which covered most of the interiors of the churches in this area.  They got white‑washed over

after Henry and his successors had their excursions into changing people's beliefs and the

Puritans, especially, didn't like such things."  He smiled.  "I'm intrigued.  Clear the

whitewash free of charge?  Something for a chapter, eh?  Secular wall‑paintings?  There's a

couple been discovered in St Albans.  Nothing like this, though!"

     I was listening rather with my tongue hanging out, not quite drooling.  But all this was

getting to be too much!  Wall paintings as well.  Orgies?

     "You seem rather too intrigued," said a very canny Tris to the young man.  "Is there a

special interest?  I've seen you around, too.  Wasn't quite with your arse hanging out, but you

didn't have a shirt on..."

     Nat looked at Tris and grinned.  "I know.  That's why I blurted out I knew the pair of

you!   Seen you before in the same state of undress as well.   Saturday night is Club night,

eh?"

     I laughed.  "That's settled.  I'll check with the Master rather than the Chaplain at the

moment if it's a bit risque.  But as far as I'm concerned you can clear it off but we'd better

wait until all this other stuff has quietened down.  I have the feeling things might get rather

hot soon."

     "OK," he said, "I'll tell Jeff and Fred to clear the dust and then we'll pack up and...

...I'll keep in touch!"  He disappeared through the newly opened hole in the wall and we

heard him talking to the two workers inside.

     We went up the steps in silent contemplation of these new revelations.  Just then Dr

Palfrey knocked at the door.  "We've started to unpack things," he said, "Someone's tipped

off the press and Anglia Television.  They want to know what's going on.  Anyway, there are

letters from the Abbots of Crowland and Sempringham, and one from the priest in charge at

Fordham Abbey, saying that everything else is delivered into the safe keeping of St Mark's

College in perpetuity or until their monasteries are reinstated.  Mr Fullerton seems to think

that'll cover the find.  If you like to bring the box you can see what's happening."

     Tris put on a spare pair of gloves and picked up the box and I picked up the cushion

and the two of us followed Dr Palfrey to the Chapel.  What a sight.  About six of the boxes

had been opened and Dr Masterton was busy photographing and talking into a recorder she

had slung round her neck.  The first thing I saw was a sword in its scabbard and by it two

plain silver chalices and another with gold outside and silver inside with carved gold handles

in the shape of angels' heads.  Two of the opened boxes seemed to be full of parchment

manuscripts.  A small box had a paten beside it like the one we used in the Chapel to hold the

Communion wafers and there were other things in the box as well..  I saw Mr Fullerton

writing down lists of things as they appeared as each box was opened.  Mr Wolstencroft was

taking photos with a digital camera.  Whippet must have been sent off to check or guard

something else

     With Dr Masterton beside him the Chaplain opened another box.  What came out was

most peculiar.  A rectangular box of what looked like glass, held together with thin strips of

dull, silvery metal.  As he placed it on another pillow we could see what looked like a set of

bones forming a hand.  We listened carefully to what Dr Masterton was saying into her

recorder as she snapped picture after picture and measured it.

     "Crowland.  Reliquary.  Glass.  Possibly silver.  Twenty‑one by sixteen by sixteen

centimetres.  Interior.  Skeletal hand resting on plinth.  Possibly jade.  Query missing hand

relic of St Guthlac."

     She turned, saw us watching and switched off the recorder.  "If there's nothing else,"

she said with a real sense of awe in her voice, "This is the find above all others.  It may not

look much but visitors from all over the Europe of the time came to see this.  It is recorded

that many miracles occurred just by looking at it.  I think this is the relic of St Guthlac."  She

looked at me.  "Your book and this are so precious for the history of monastic life.  See that

box over there."  She pointed at another we hadn't noticed.  "There is actually a note on the

lid identifying it as plate donated by Tuvold.  I know the name.  He was a generous

benefactor of the Abbey.  There is so much here."

     We were joined by Dr Palfrey.  "I want to show you this."  He pointed at the sword in

its scabbard.  "I won't attempt to draw it, that'll have to be done under controlled

conditions."  He smiled.  "It's not quite Excalibur but this is likely to be the sword of the

Prince of Wales whose daughter the Princess Gwenllian was held prisoner in Sempringham

from the age of eighteen months around 1280 until she died in her early fifties in the thirteen‑

thirties.   There's a stone there now at the ruins commemorating her as she is part of Welsh

history."

     The Chaplain was opening another box.  "Jenny," he called to attract Dr Masterton's

attention, "Another book."

     We watched as she lifted out another volume, leather‑bound like mine.  She laid it on

a cushion.  Very carefully she opened it.  She gasped.

     "I know what this is," she said in very hushed tones.  "This is St Guthlac's Psalter.  I

know the description someone wrote after it disappeared.  Someone called John Lambert

wrote about it.  It must have been about 1538 if my memory serves me right."  She turned to

the Chaplain.  "I think I ought to contact colleagues at the British Library and the British

Museum.  We need more help.  I don't want to stop but I feel exhausted already." She looked

around.  "Nat seems to have disappeared.  Is he still in the cellar?"

     Now or never.  The Chaplain would have to know about balls being fondled sometime, unless it was going to be like that Pope and the painting on the wall of the Vatican

I'd read about.  Drapery to hide the genitalia!

     "I think he's found something else," I said.  Everyone stopped and looked at me.

"Wall paintings this time in the other room.  They've been covered over at some time.  I'll

have to ask Charles if there are any records in the old Servants of the Chapel books.

Somewhere about the mid seventeen hundreds Nat thinks."

     The Chaplain laughed.  "In the cellar?  Under the whitewash?  They won't be very

salubrious, I guess.  I heard Dr Smart left a lot out of his history of the College!  Charles has

gone across to arrange for some lunch to be brought over to the vestry.  He should be back

soon."

     Charles was back.  "All is arranged.  Luncheon will be here prompt at one.  And Mr

Tomkins informs me there is a television van and two reporters arriving at two."

     We cornered Charles and told him about the new discovery.  "My dears, that period in

our history is one which has been glossed over in the published works.  But not now."  He

shook his head.  "All is concentrated on the other wonderful finds but I will see what my less

than illustrious predecessors of the time have to say when this dust has settled."

     "Less than illustrious?" said Ivo, "So you know something, then?"

     "Precious, I have merely glanced at the scrawls but three consecutive Servants of the

Chapel were rusticated for drunkenness and licentiousness at a time when even the Master

was known to consume two bottles of port a day and had certain sores which were not caused

by wearing constricting underwear.  Each returned and then were found congenial country

livings once they took Holy Orders.  Such was life in the College."  He sighed.

     "So it's the same now, but it's drugs and the bedding of females is more open," said

Ivo.

     "Autres temps, autres moeurs," said Charles raising his hands, "But the Master is

much exercised by the first of those.  I am not breaking confidence when I tell you that three

students from other Colleges were in hospital just before Christmas as the result of unwise

purchases.  The purchases would seem to be associated with the end‑of‑term frivolities held

in our Junior Combination Room.  There is enquiry, but as far as I can ascertain, in those

terms beloved by the press, no leads."

     "How do you know all this?" asked Tris.

     "My dear, news travels fast from Porter's Lodge to Porter's Lodge and even while in

cold and gloomy Venice I heard from the inestimable Jason that there was a search being

made of certain staircases."  He held up his hands.  "I can assure you that Stair F was not

considered to be search‑worthy.  Nothing untoward was found elsewhere but one of our

Colonial number has been advised to return home until certain substances have ceased to

wreak havoc on his athletic status."

     "Charles," I said, "In that one statement you've told us about six snippets of

information.  We'll leave the rest until later, but you say someone here is supplying drugs."

     Charles nodded.  "That is so, and to put it even more clearly, the drug supplied is

cocaine and, which causes much speculation, it is, as they say, very high‑grade."

     "That's why those poor sods were in hospital.  Over‑dosed?" said Ivo.

     "So I am informed," said Charles.

     We were interrupted by a clatter at the main door.  A hot trolley from the kitchen was

being wheeled in by Sean and the serving lad, Curt.  He looked a bit bug‑eyed ‑ the result of a

long night with his pal from the Club, no doubt.  They were followed by one of the under‑

chefs and they all went into the choir room off the vestry.  Dr Masterton looked over.

     "Hungry, lads?  I know I am."

     We were sitting listening to the discussion about the finds when Jason came in.

     "Excuse me, sir," he said addressing the Chaplain, "But we need people to be

interviewed.  Mr Tomkins says there's enough reptiles about without all these new ones

crawling over us."

     The Chaplain laughed.  "Mr Tomkins has had plenty of experience of the press in the

past."  He turned to Tris and me.  "I think you're the ones first in the firing‑line.  Then us, Dr

Palfrey and Dr Masterton.  Mr Fullerton will keep an eye on us in case we say anything

slanderous about the Education Minister and lack of funds."

     "I'd like to talk to Tris's father," Mr Fullerton said.  "I shall need someone to back up

my opinions and it'll look better if there's external support.  I'll go and phone him if I may.

I've already been in touch with the Coroner and the message there is carry on."

     I said we'd better get tidied up.  Both of us had dust on our sweatshirts and Tris had

white on his sleeve where he'd given the wall a rub.  We had a quick hug as we changed.

"What next?" asked Tris rhetorically as we put on a couple of new Matteoli tops, then had a

quick ‑ no, ‑ a slightly lingering kiss.  "Make your lips nice and juicy for the telly cameras,"

said Tris giving my cock a tweak in my Matteoli jeans, "And plump that up to give the

viewers a treat!"

     "Sod off, matey!" I said, "I'm too scared to get a hard‑on."

     "Fooled me, precious one!"

     We got back to the Chapel to find a television camera man, a man with a portable

light and an interviewer talking to the Master.  Hovering in the background were a rather

scruffy‑looking middle‑aged white man with a younger black man with a camera.  The older

man beckoned us over.

     "She says," he pointed at Dr Masterton who was talking quietly to the Chaplain,

"One of you did an Enigma on a code."

     "I solved the code...," I said.

     Before I could say anything more he interrupted, "...She says you do Maths, right?" I

nodded. "And your name?"

     "Mark Henry Foster," I said.

     "You his room‑mate?" he turned to Tris, "Who are you?"

     Tris looked at me, a world‑weary look on his face, as the man finished scribbling in

his note‑book.  "I'm Tristan Price‑Williams and I'm reading Law," he added for good

measure.

     "Do anything else?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "Other than drinking and fucking and snorting things up your snouts like the rest of

them?"

     Luckily Tris was not drawn by this.  I might have asked what he meant but I realised

words could be twisted.

     "Oh, I'm Secretary of the Basketball Club and I play Rugger."

     He scribbled more down.  "And you?"

     "Just Maths," I said thinking of the ways 'playing the organ' might be interpreted.

     "Want to take a couple of photos.  She says you got a prize for solving it.  Some book

or other.   Any money in it?"

     I was about to say it wasn't exactly a prize and the money 'in it' wasn't quite what

one would expect, when I saw the warning look that Tris gave me.  We went along to the

table where my box was.  I put on my gloves, opened it and picked up the book and passed

the coin to Tris who took it carefully in a gloved hand.

     "Like your tops," the reporter said, "Very snazzy.  That's it.  Hold those things up.

Got 'em Lenny?"  Two flashes and we were immortalised.

     "Yes, the tops are my Uncle's design, he's...."

     "Fuck me, is that the time?" the reporter said looking at his watch, "Bright boy eh?

Bit more than that twat Gemma, eh, Lenny?"

     Gemma?  Oh, yes, the winner of something on telly called Big Brother.  Toad had

mentioned it only to comment on the reputed shagging under the duvet and the display of tits

which always got him aroused.

     "I think Mark's got a few more brains than Gemma," said Tris with an absolutely

straight face.

     "Ta, then.   Must be off.  Got to get up to town.  There's something on.  This'll be in

on Monday unless the bastards spike it.  Come on, Len, stop buggering about, our lot ain't

interested in those gewgaws!"

     Our lot?  Which newspaper?    Lenny looked back at us and shrugged his shoulders as

they hurried off    Tris looked at me

     "I don't think he's from the Times." he said with a grin.

     The telly interview went smoothly.  We were asked sensible questions with shots of

me holding the book, Dr Palfrey the sword in its scabbard and Dr Masterton pointing at a

second reliquary which looked as if it had a jawbone in it and saying she though it was part

of Waltheof's skull who had been executed by William the Conqueror.  All very gruesome.

We were told the London ITN would be taking a feed and we might be on national news after

six.  We were kept busy because  a man from the Times did appear.  He interviewed the

Master and Dr Palfrey mainly, though he also wanted to know how I solved the code.

Charles was also interviewed about the secondary excavation and the abbatial ring.  What

that first reporter would have made of Abbots' Rings I could just imagine.  Then the Times

photographer arrived and we went through the whole business again, but he also asked

sensible questions and said he'd been photographing a Roman dig down in Sussex where

there was a supermarket waiting to be put up.                              

     I clocked up several minutes on my mobile phoning home.  Luckily Mum answered

as Toad hadn't returned from a hockey match.  I said watch telly for the news.  We might be

on, even on a Saturday night if there were no football riots.  She said there was a planned

invasion the next day as Nick, Tris's father, was driving them all up.  He'd been summoned

by Aubrey Fullerton for support ‑ just plain nosy as the rest, she said, laughing.  "We'll be

there early," were her parting words, "so make certain you kick him out of bed in good

time!"  "Mum!!" I said as she put the phone down.

     Charles came to the set about four o'clock while Tris, Ivo and I were taking off all the

plastic wrappings.  He eyed the harpsichord and I had to tell him the story of the gift.  "My

dears," he said, "All that must wait.  We are all so exhausted I have arranged for us to be

accommodated for a quiet, refreshing dinner at the Arundel at seven thirty.  Tomorrow we

will witness the influx of the students all avid for information, no doubt."

     I'd forgotten completely that things would have to be back to normal for Tuesday.

The quiet week of study and loving Tris had been disturbed.  Anyway would anything else be

the same after this?

     Ivo, Tris and I  wandered back to the Chapel just after six thirty.  The three

archaeologists were still busy.  There were still boxes to be looked at and one of the chests

had been opened.  Dr Masterton looked tired but was taking things from the chest.  Most

looked like bits of old vellum or parchment.  Dr Palfrey was drinking a mug of black coffee.

     He waved it at us.  "It must have been like this on my grandfather's digs in Turkey,"

he said, "I remember him telling me as a very small boy all the excitement they had when

they discovered a tomb that hadn't been robbed.  I think I was six when I said wasn't he a

tomb robber as well and he laughed and said of course he was, but he had a government

licence to do it.  Grandma said he'd no conscience and that was why he was a clergyman, and

I said it was probably best not to have a conscience if you wanted to find out how people

lived and died.  Grandad gave me this for saying that..," he pulled out an amulet on a thin

chain out of his trouser pocket.  "...I've carried it with me ever since.  He found that in a

tomb in Egypt and said it had magical properties even he couldn't fathom."  He pointed to

the two reliquaries side by side on the trestle table.  "Like those.  There's a presence here

today of such peace.  I know we were meant to find and look after all this.  What Grandfather

said and did made me want to follow in his footsteps and something like this shows me he

was right in setting me on that path."

     There was a sudden shout from Dr Masterton.  "Cris, look at this!"  She was holding

up a bundle of parchments.  "It's your period.  Robert de Brunne I guess."

     "Oh my God!" he said and leapt and was kneeling by the chest in seconds.  Dr

Masterton handed him the sheaf of pages.  He scanned them quickly.  "Yes, definitely

Middle English and it's a clear hand.  Yes, definitely a copy.  Oh, my!!"

     Dr Masterton saw us looking.  She smiled.  "You don't know what it's like.  There's

twenty years work here at least." She pointed at a pile of parchment.  "There's the Crowland

Abbey records and all the deeds and agreements.  We'll be able to fill in so many gaps it's

unbelievable and we haven't even looked in the other chest from Sempringham..  There are

leather bags at the bottom here and we daren't open those without witnesses as they are sure

to contain more coins.  There are two people coming from the British Museum later tonight

just to help us list things."

     Sergeant Woolpit came in at that moment.  He went up to Dr Palfrey.  "Got an

announcement to make."  He looked round at us.  "Just to say I've been appointed the

Coroner's Officer for the present and the message is that you may all continue.  I'm on duty

until ten then Constables Bearsted and Venables will be taking over until the morning.

Orders are that only those who are bona fide persons are to be admitted.  That is, the Master,

Chaplain, Dean, archaeological staff, designated Porters and those of the student body

already involved and two members of the British Museum staff.  Mr Fullerton will be in

overall charge under the Coroner and he will give any further instructions in the morning."

     He came over to us.  "Have to make it sound legal," he said, with a grin.

     "We'll be back just after ten.  A fry up and a couple of drinks?"

     "Couldn't be better!"

     Charles insisted it was his shout for the dinner and the wine.  He flapped his hands

when I protested.  I still had plenty of Uncle Francesco's gift to spend.

     "My dears.  Mother coins it in, to use an old and revered phrase.  Let us spend some

of the handfuls of euro notes she pressed on me when I said goodbye to her at the airport.

And before you ask, we had a fabulous time in Venice even if the weather was a trifle

inclement and the waters were rising each day.  I just love that place and Mother has ideas

above her station about what she might buy." His hands were up, fingers splayed.  "The

prices are simply astronomical even for the pokiest little apartment.  Father says he could

arrange for an apartment to be assigned from the Palazzo but it would reduce his influence

over the company renting the place from him."

     I couldn't resist it.  "And did you meet Father again?"

     "No, my dear, but we had several companionable conversations on the telephone.  He

was rather wary of speaking with Mother but was quite affable with me.  There is no

likelihood of any union there."

     "You didn't expect it, did you?" said Ivo, "Aldo's gay.  All of you know it was a one‑

night stand.  Sorry Charles.  You may be his son but there's no hope he and Mother would

ever..."

     He didn't finish.  Charles was nodding.  "....I know, my dearest one, I am resigned to

that fact.  He has acknowledged me for which I am and I shall be eternally grateful.  You

must forgive me if I worry, perhaps unduly, on Mother's behalf."

     "Doesn't she have any men friends?" asked Tris, "The officer in the Guards?"

     Charles shook his head.  "No, certainly not him.  Mother seems to attract the wrong

sort of man ‑ I don't mean Father ‑ but I have witnessed a number of most unsuitable persons

attempting to woo Mother.  The Major is unsuitable for the simple reason that he is more

interested in disciplining a number of his troop who seem to live naughty lives as he most

delicately puts it."  He shook his head.  "I don't think delicacy comes into it considering the

range of peculiar instruments I inadvertently stumbled on in a closet in his bedroom when I

was looking for a clean towel for use in his bathroom."

     "What sort of instruments?" I asked, hoping my guilelessness would not be

unmasked, "Clarinets, oboes, trumpets or a saxophone?"

     Ivo laughed.  "More likely a sexophone from the sound of things.   And you were

snooping, Charles, admit it!"

     "Ivo, sweetheart, we will ignore the petty humour of your cousin and I will admit I

was curious why so large a cupboard should be situated in such a position.  As it also housed

some sort of bench with leather straps I closed the door very speedily and I haven't entered

the house again.  I tried to warn Mother but she misunderstood and thought I was referring to

an interest in woodwork or similar craft.  Still there is a very nice Brazilian gentleman who is

paying attention at the moment but as he seems to have had four wives in quick succession

and is much engaged in football promotion I do not think Mother is too interested."

     I thought we'd better change the topic.  It was pretty clear Aldo wanted nothing to do

with Mother as vivacious and generous as she was.

     "What's all this about searching the place?" I asked.

     "I know no more than I told you, sweet one," said Charles waving his fork elegantly.

"A certain supply of pills containing something beginning with 'N' I believe, a substance

banned for sportsmen as they are called."

     "Nandrolene?" asked Ivo.

     "My dear, the name meant nothing to me but Mrs Chalfont‑Meade seemed very au

fait with the material as her nephew is not allowed to compete any longer as traces were

found when he had to supply a sample before a race he was in.  She said he was lucky he

wasn't sent down from the University he attends and the Brigadier was most incensed when

she passed on that information and said the boy ought to be horse‑whipped for allowing

himself to be caught.  Given the amount of alcohol that passes his lips and those of her

husband's I would think any samples of theirs would cause lights to flash."

     "Why's he not around today?"  Tris asked.

     "I made a grave error yesterday and forgot to mention the invasion expected today.  In

any case he had a game with Mr Chalfont‑Meade arranged to avenge a defeat he suffered on

their holiday in the Algarve."

     "You forgot?"

     A smile played over his lips and the fork was held straight up.  "I find lapses of

memory are most useful when dealing with a gentleman of the Brigadier's calibre."

     "You mean he's as thick as two planks and just as pretty?" said Tris with a laugh.

     "I find the military mind very hard to fathom, my dear, and that is as far as I would

venture an opinion at the moment."

     "Algarve, you say," I said, "You told us Benidorm.  One's Portugal the other's

Spain."

     "Oh, fiddle, one only deals with generalities where the Brigadier is concerned and he

does frequent both as far as golf is concerned and for the cheapness of the gin."

     "And all part of your grand plan, eh?" said Ivo, holding his glass as the wine waiter

approached.

     "Hush, let us not talk of such things but think of what the morrow might hold.  Both

Dr Palfrey and the Master are of the opinion that a little further excavation of the ruined

dorter would not come amiss.  There is evidence of something buried there I am sure."

     "Just to put the record straight, Charles," I said, "You're not too upset about the

discovery in my cellar?"

     "My dear, it's of the utmost importance," he said most engagingly, "I must admit I

was a little hasty, perhaps, in authorising, nay, commanding that Mr Guthrie should divert his

attention from preparing the borders for the coming Spring, but the finding of the ring and

the paten has compensated for that lapse.  Only Mr Tomkins seems to bear a grudge as the

turf has been disturbed and I am reviled as ordering its removal and I am not, perforce, a

Senior Member of the College...."

     "Yet!...." said Ivo.

     Charles smiled as he forked the last of his baked cod in a salt crust upwards, "In all

good time!"

     At least Charles was not upset ‑ a bit disappointed, perhaps, but he shared our

exhilaration in the discovery.  He was most knowledgeable about the possible discoveries

and said he'd read more of the history when he had guessed the connection between the

letters 'C' and 'S' in the Servant's records.  He said he would check the records of the

Servants through the middle 1700's to see if any reference to 'Greek activities' as he insisted

in referring to the possible paintings and their reason.  All in all we had a most convivial

evening.

     It was just after ten when we arrived back in College.  The Chapel lights were on and

Tris checked to see if Whippet was around.  We left Charles at the bottom of the stairs as he

said he was weary and we took Whippet into the main room.  Coffee was soon on and Ivo

volunteered to do fried eggs, bacon and fried bread for him.  "Shouldn't eat it really, but it's

been a busy day," was Whippet's comment as the food was placed before him.

     We heard a bit about the drugs search.  Leads were few except it was thought that an

original batch had somehow been purified.  Back to chemists and Chemistry.  Also, one of

the sufferers had let slip he'd been given his, free, gratis and for nothing.  He didn't know by

whom.  He'd just had some left in his pigeon‑hole in an envelope.  Yes, he was known as a

user.

     Whippet went off just after eleven and we got Ivo's sofa ready.  He gave each of us a

brotherly kiss as we said goodnight.  "I'm envious," he said, as we went through to the

bedroom.  He had every right to be.  Tris wanted me and I wanted him.  We used noses,

tongues and fingers to explore each other before we could stand the excitement no longer.  I

entered Tris so lovingly and so gently, raising both of us to such heights we were spurting

and spraying within minutes.  We lay and luxuriated in that post‑coital stillness.  We nuzzled

each other's cheeks and lips and chins.  We did this silently as I was still fully erect in him.

"Again," he whispered , and so slowly, and so lovingly, and so quietly passionately, I fucked

him again until I had given him by second offering of seed.  He lay eyes closed as I gently

took his own erect shaft in my hand and with care brought him to a conclusion which left

him breathlessly open‑mouthed.   I feathered those parted lips with my drooling tongue.  We

kissed.

     "You are so lucky," he murmured, "You have brains and beauty."

     "My Tristan," I whispered, "You are blessed with beauty and brains.  I love you."

     "You are much cleverer than me," he murmured back, "I could never have solved that

puzzle.  You deserved that prize."

     "That's our prize," I replied, meaning it.  "You spurred me on and you recognised

where the door was.   It's ours.  We share everything."

     "It's yours really.  My love, you are Mark and I know you are marked for great

things."

     "Tristan, I love you as King Mark loved his faithful knight.  Remember, 'Mein Held,

mein Tristan!, Trautester Freund,' 'my hero, my Tristan!, dearest of friends' ‑ I wept when I

heard that.  My dearest friend....."

     "I wept, too, because I could never betray you...  Hearing that made me realise how

much I owe to your friendship and love just over these few years.  'Trautester Freund' that's

my desire."

     We cuddled each other and I withdrew and slept.

     We woke early and, giggling, crept to the bathroom as we hadn't bothered to clean up

after than so‑intense love‑making of that so‑perfect night before.  Naked, but now sweet‑

smelling we went into a still comatose Ivo.  He was snoring gently and looked quite peaceful.

We whipped our spare duvet off him.  He was awake immediately.  He wasn't fazed seeing

two nude young men standing, flaccid for once, facing him.  "Oh my God," he moaned, "I'm

stiff!"

     What was revealed poking out of the fly of the boxers he was wearing confirmed that

statement, perhaps not in the way he meant.  It made us laugh.

     "We can see that," said Tri reaching down and gripping the long, thick tool on view

for all to see.  He pushed down and Ivo's foreskin was retracted over his mushroom‑shaped

knob.  It shone a deeper shade than the pink skin of the shaft.  Ivo closed his eyes and let out

a sigh.  Tris continued his movements and Ivo came.  He came with about five streams of his

well‑remembered creamy spunk, back over his exposed torso and over the boxers he was

wearing.  He gasped and the look on his face changed from the intense look of the boy intent

on his imminent orgasm, to one of complete gratification and delight.

     "I've dreamt of being with you two so many times.  Adam might have acknowledged

he can take his pleasure with both.  I've battled against it but I know deep down I would only

be able to show my true self with you.  With me it's 'Tory and Tris and Mark.  I need and

want you all.  You understand?"

     "Ivo," I said, "You've been a model for me all my life, you and Adam as well, as far

back as I can remember.  I know my Tris feels the same.  When he defended me at

Disneyland I knew we were destined.  I might have been younger but I understood and when

you so abjectly made those apologies I knew we could never be separated...   ...Ivo, I'm sure

you have the birthmark inside you.  You are part of this whole new family I have only just

discovered and you will discover, too.  I may be Mark, and marked, but you are, too.  My

love, my Ivo!"

     I lent over and kissed him full on the lips.  A lingering kiss only broken when Tris

whispered, "And me," and took my place.

     We were too emotional to go for a run.  We showered and dressed and had a quiet

breakfast.  We three went to the Chapel and with the still awake but so‑tired researchers and

the attendant policemen we three knelt before the altar and held hands and pledged our

friendship.  I left them sitting in the choir stalls and went up to the organ.  By some pre‑

ordained reason there was a book open on the music desk.  I selected the stops suggested,

quiet eight foot and four foot on the Swell coupled with the sixteen foot Sub Bass on the

pedals, then drew that beautiful Cromorne and a Flute on the Choir.  'Schmucke dich, O

liebe Seele', 'Adorn thyself, O lovely Soul'.  I played it with as much love and devotion I

could imbue into that mechanical beast.  It was a good job I knew the ending as through tears

I played that last phrase on the solo stops, slowing down to that held five bar E flat with the

gentle movement to a close underneath.  I played for love.  For my Tristan and my cousins

Ivo and the absent Adam.  For my family, present and past.  For those ever‑watching

creatures, Piers and Miles and the golden Flea.  For Francis and his unborn sons.  I felt an everlasting peace.

     When I reached the bottom of the stairs Dr Palfrey was there.  He put out a hand.  I

grasped it.  "Thank you," he said, "We all needed that.  'Schmucke dich' I know it well.  My

mother was German and she would hum that chorale to get me and my brother off to sleep.

It was always our good‑night blessing.  When she died Uncle Safar played it at her funeral.

He said he had played it at another beautiful person's funeral years ago."

     "You know Safar?"

     "Yes, of course, his brother Khaled is my Uncle Troy's partner.  He's godfather to my

sons as well."

     He knew Ulvescott Manor well, having visited it many times.  Another link.  Ivo and

Tris listened as we chatted, then the buttery staff brought in breakfast for the workers and we

had coffee and chatted more.  At nine o'clock Whippet reappeared and the Constables went

off duty, I think rather reluctantly.  The archaeologists had snatched some sleep overnight but

they and their helpers looked totally exhausted.

     "You said you've got at least twenty years work here," I said to Dr Masterton, "Why

not rest a bit now."

     "It's all too exciting," she said, "Everything we open or turn over is so, so wonderful."  She went along the row of small objects.  "This, we think, may be Egbert's, the king of Wessex's, ring, or it may be a faithful copy.  If it's either it's another great find.  He was a great benefactor of Crowland."  She pointed across two tables, all with objects on them.  "And that over there in that glass box is a fragment of Abbot Theodore's vestments.  That dates back to Saxon times, too.  We must just record and then will come the time of study.  There is so much.  Too much to take in at one time."

     The Chaplain came in then.  He looked bemused at the array.  "Please excuse me," he

said to the assembly all still noting and looking at things, "I will say my Office quietly.  If

anyone wishes to join me we can just be by the altar."

     I was surprised.  All trooped to the front of the Chapel and filed into the choir stalls.

The Chaplain opened with the Collect of the day and said several prayers, with all joining in

the Lord's Prayer.  I think we all felt some sort of presence with all these objects of devotion

and veneration revealed after so many closed away years.

     After he'd finished the Chaplain stayed to help record things but we three lads went

back to the set.  It wasn't long before Jason knocked and announced that Mr and Mrs Foster

and Mr and Mrs Price‑Williams had arrived.  Frankie stomped in not having been announced

and gave Jason an evil look.  Frankie took charge even while the parents were taking off their

overcoats.

     "Well, where is everything?  You two looked a right couple of wallies on telly last

night.  At least Unc's got some publicity which will be all to the good for my fund..."

     "..Shut up, Francis," Mum said, "He's been like an infant all the way...,"

     "....Mum," he just about wailed plaintively, "It's not fair.  They got on telly!"

     "So will you, God help me," said Mum, "When I strangle you!..."  She turned to Dad.

"Gordon, do something to control him."  Dad just grinned.  He was used to Mum and Toad.

     Uncle Nick stepped forward.  "I'd help you, Angie, but I'd probably have to defend

myself.  Francis, stand up straight and congratulate your brother, you evil child."

     As Francis had always been addressed as 'evil child' by Uncle Nick I didn't think it

would have much effect.  It did.  He rushed over and hugged me, then Tris, then Ivo, as we

were all standing in a row.

     "You always take the mick," he said, "So I thought I'd have a try."

     Not the thing to say to Tris who was Mick‑taker General.

     In the next quarter of an hour we had an influx of visitors while coffee was being

brewed and the harpsichord being admired.   Of course, Charles was one of the first, then

Aubrey Fullerton.  He and Uncle Nick went into my study to discuss matters quietly.  Mum

was playing the harpsichord while Dad looked at the case work and craftsmanship and Tris

and his Mum were chatting with Charles.  I went to the bedroom to look for something and

was followed in by Frankie.

     "Actually, Marky, congratulations.  Will you show me the code and the stuff?  Where

is it?"

     "The code's in the study and all the stuff, as you call it, is in the Chapel being logged.

My book and coin are there as well."  A thought struck me.  "Where's Shelley?" I asked,

"Didn't she want to come as well?  I suppose the Lexus was rather full, anyway."

     "Oh, she's playing dead beetle with Pugsy, I expect," he said nonchalantly as I picked

out the clean hankie I needed.

     "Oh, I didn't know she was into computer games," I said absent‑mindedly as I kicked

a spare pair of Tris's boxers under the bed.

     "It's not a computer game.  Twit!"  I looked up to see a real wide grin on his face.

"Dead beetle.  You know...  Like... ...On back.  Legs up in air!  Waggle!  Waggle!"

     I must have looked aghast.  "You don't mean Pugsy and she....?"

     He laughed, "Gotcha!  OK OK I won't say it to Tris.  I know I'm in for a battering of

some sort already."

     "Evil child!  I'll tell him later.  You'd better be out of the way," I laughed.  "You're

getting better.  Had me fooled.  But where is she?"

     "It's Puggo's sister's birthday so she's there.  Feet under their table this time.

Anyway, I don't think Puggo's had it yet so you can tell Tris."

     Jason went to the door when there was a slight rap.  It was Liam holding a copy of a

Sunday newspaper.   On page four a small piece at the bottom of the page, "Historic

discovery at Cambridge College'.  Five paragraphs just said a hoard of monastic artefacts had

been discovered by the solving of a coded message.  The objects were in the process of being

catalogued and the article ended with a sentence from the Master, 'We are indebted to the

skills of  Mr Mark Foster in decoding the message based on the words Fiat Lux." and that

further information would be released later.

     "All very bland, but something for the Foster scrapbook," Mum said.  She did sound

proud though and Tris squeezed my arm.  Oh Tris, squeeze something else, I prayed.

     As soon as the pair of eminent QC's reappeared we were led by Charles over to the

Chapel.  A laughing Whippet held the door and counted us in saying we would all be

searched on the way out and the penalties....  Frankie was last in and poked him in the back

and I heard a whispered "I'll be visiting that Club as soon as I'm eighteen and I want

something leather!"  Zack must have given him details.   I shrugged my shoulders and

Whippet smiled.  Another arch mick‑taker I knew.

     Only about six boxes and the other chest remained to be opened.  In our presence the

leather bags from the bottom of the first chest were removed and laid on padded trays.  The

first was opened and a cascade of silver and gold coins spilled from it.  We watched as the

other four were opened as well.

     "Please accept they will all be catalogued," said Dr Palfrey.  "A numismatist is

arriving in the morning.  I can't tell you their value but from a glance I can see a good

number of what are known as silver pennies.  We'll have to wait.  This is for an expert's

eye."

     While we were looking the Master came in.  He greeted everyone and Mr Fullerton

introduced Uncle Nick especially.  I don't believe he could credit the sight of so many things

laid out.  "Is Buckingham College mentioned anywhere," he asked Dr Palfrey.

     He shook his head.  "Not so far, but we still have three boxes from the Fordham

offshoot to open.   Maybe something there.  Jenny looked up a transcript of who was at the

Abbey at the time and the priest in charge had connections there so we may find something."

     The Master snorted.  "The Master of Magdalene has asked permission to be first to

view things.   Buckingham became Magdalene in 1542 so we don't want any bad feelings

and we don't want sticky fingers either."

     "No problem as I can see, Master," Uncle Nick said, stepping forward, "I've

examined all the labels so far and they are unequivocal.  They all say the objects are placed

in your College's safe‑keeping in perpetuity or until their monastic houses are restored.  It

will depend on whether parish churches are deemed monastic, but I doubt it.  I would have to

check that with an ecclesiastical lawyer.  Anyway, there is no doubt that Mark should receive

the box with it contents.  That is clear, too."

     The Master smiled.  "Thank you.  I hope it won't come to a court of law but, there is

so much, so sharing is a possibility.  As long as research is not hindered I will abide by any

decisions.  Mark's contribution to this has already been rewarded in one way but the College

will no doubt have further ideas."

     Uncle Nick said he would talk with Mr Fullerton more later and we all went back to

the set.  There was a quiet hum of excitement.  Tris demonstrated the 'Gambe' stop and all

went gingerly down the stairs.  After inspecting the now‑empty chamber we filed back into

the ordinary cellar.  I then said there were other things being uncovered and pointed to the

young man's head in the corner.  Trust Toad to see the other bit, or bits, uncovered.  He

shrieked out, "Bloody hell, look at this!"  Mum, several inches shorter reached up and quite

illegally, with an eminent lawyer and a soon‑to‑be trainee solicitor watching, gave the evil

child a resounding slap to the side of his head.  An aggrieved "Mum, but he's having his balls

felt!" earned him a second, not so hard smack as Mum, plus the rest of us dissolved into

laughter.  "Why always me?"  Toad asked.

     We then had to explain that this was probably a meeting place, etc., etc.  I could see

Toad getting more and more excited and an illuminated sign nearly appearing above his head

'Next Pennefather Scholar!  Frankie's disco open nightly!!  Orgies continuously!!!'

     "Down Fido!" I whispered in his shell‑like ear as we waited for the giggling mass to

ascend the steps in front of us.  "Fucking hell" he whispered back, putting his evilness at

least one stage further on, "And all this belongs to you for the next year as well.  I've got to

work bloody hard!"

     Uncle Nick had arranged lunch at the Garden House Hotel so we, with Charles and

the Chaplain and his wife walked there.  The archaeology team refused the offer saying they

would open the final boxes and hope to knock off at four o'clock and would return the next

day refreshed with some other colleagues as well.  Police presence to guard?  Whippet had

arranged this and he would be back in the morning, too.

     When we returned from lunch there were groups of returning students all eager for

news having seen the interviews on telly and the small report in two of the Sunday

broadsheets.  One of the team had printed out a description of some of the find and this was

being handed round by Jason and Liam.  "Pity we don't get overtime," said Jason, "But Mr

Charles has arranged a special lunch for everyone tomorrow."

     As we entered our staircase we noted that Boz must be back.  His doors were open

and we could hear conversation.  He, with Ben, Gabe and Josh, came into my set to be

reintroduced, then Oliver, Fiona and Tina with Louie and Toby in tow arrived.  My main

room seemed quite full.  We had to go through the whole story again and Tris and Jason went

to the Chapel for permission to bring the box.  Dr Masterton accompanied them back and

handed out gloves.  Again the book and coin were revealed.  I looked at Gabe.  He had tears

in his eyes.  "That's a bonza do.  You deserve it."  I said it was really a joint effort with help

of all sorts from everyone.  I said even young Danny ‑ not mentioning 'from the Club' ‑

helped by the reiterated 'Pull the other one'.  I wanted to share my good fortune and would

have to think of some way.  I ignored the stage whisper from 'you know who' "Orgy in the

cellar".  He'd get more than a slap when Tris and I got hold of him.  Oh, er, he's getting

bigger.  Have to ask Gabe to sit on him!!

     Everyone went off looking happy.  There was just us lads sitting talking after they

went and we'd fed ourselves on goodies Mum and Auntie Dilys had brought, plus exotica

from a hamper of Charles's.  A couple of bottles of wine had been produced and no one

questioned Ivo's continued presence.  Nothing was said of his meeting the day before.  At

last Tris couldn't contain himself.

     "Aren't you going to show them the cellar wall?"

     The ribald remarks were what one could expect.  Gabe grabbed Oliver, who was

giggling, as they stood side by side in front of the section where the boy's balls were being

felt.

     "If there's bits that are missing they could put you up there, lad.  You've got a bit

more than that tyke, though!"

     The question then was, when was the wall to be completely uncovered?  I said Nat

Temple would probably do it over the Easter vac.  "Oh, bollocks," said Gabe in a despairing

tone, "We could get it off in a coupla' days."

     "Got to be done properly," said Tris.  "Nat's the expert."

     Gabe nodded.  "Nice to see what's under, though."

     As we got cleared up after the others went Ivo told us he'd managed to phone Adam

in the States and he was very excited about the findings and was getting the first plane

available back after his last lecture.  Yes, he'd had a marvellous time.  No, he hadn't hooked

up with anyone.  See you soon.

     Ivo said that himself in the morning.  He made two phone calls just after eight o'clock

after we'd had our run and some breakfast.  One call to accept the assignment.  The second

to the Rothenian speaker ‑ an elderly man in a small village ‑ who would start him off.  He'd

have to live in and would be given a crash, continuous course in the language, and also, most

importantly, the history and customs of the country.  His only regret was he wouldn't be

living with 'Tory during the week and he'd miss his brother again..

     Tris was very truthful with him.  "We miss you two.  Life isn't the same without you

and Adam spitting fire and farting brimstone at each other several times a day."  He laughed.

"You scared me the first time I really remember you.  I must have been about six and there

was this pair of big boys arguing and shouting and wrestling in the next door garden.  I

suppose you were all of eight but you dwarfed poor little Mark who stood with his thumb in

his mouth watching you.  Then one of you shouted something and you had Mark on that

swing and all was sweetness and light until the next time...." He laughed again.  "....And the

next time..  And the next time... ....And I bet it'll never finish."

     We were still laughing when Jason tapped on the door.  He had a big grin and two

newspapers.

     "Thought you'd like to see what the papers say.  Mr Tomkins doesn't want them back

but he says some coinage would be welcome." He wrinkled his nose.  "You could have had

them earlier but he was reading all about that one."

     He was pointing to the front page of the tabloid.  In screaming large headlines it said

'GEMMA THROWS RING AT RIO!'.  There was a blurry picture of a blowsy looking girl,

mouth wide open as if shouting, and making a vigorous two-fingered sign at the

photographer.  All she seemed to be wearing was a very short dress with a tiny top which

displayed an acre of podgy belly.  Prominently in the middle of the photo was a glinting ring

through her navel.   Underneath was a not much smaller caption which read 'GET STUFFED

YOU TWO‑TIMING W*****!' and in much smaller, but very readable capitals, 'GEMMA

TELLS RIO WHERE TO STICK HIS RING'.

     Jason pointed to the belly ring.  "Not that one, and you're on page four."

     He waited while we laid the paper out on the table.  On page four was a very good

photo of the pair of us.  Lenny was a good photographer.  Yes, Unc's logo was prominently

displayed.  There was a headline above it all.  Again in capitals, but not as big as those for

Gemma on the front page.

     'MATHS WHIZZ SOLVES CODE AND GETS BUMPER PRIZE'

     Ivo read out what came next:

     'Cambridge maths whizz, Henry Foster, solved an old code set four hundred years ago

when Henry of six wives fame did a dirty on the churches and took all their goodies.  Some

got away and were hidden in Mark's College.  Henry holds up a book he got for finding the

loot.

     His room‑mate, hunky basket ball star, Tristram Rice‑Wilkins holds up the medal

Henry got as well.  He said 'Henry's got more brains in his little finger than that Gemma's

got in her whole body'.

     Gemma says 'I ain't been to uni but I could give that pair of toffs a first class seeing‑

to anytime!'                                                                                                                              

     More on Gemma's tiff with boyfriend Rio on pages 6, 7, 8 and 9.  Exclusive.'

     We stood in silence.  Ivo laughed.  "At least they didn't ask you to get your tits out for

Page 3  Tristram duckie!   They've had Hunky Harry and Hairy Chesty Charlie there when

they had their shirts off playing polo!  Hunky Tristram!!  Rice‑Wilkins!! Who told them that

was your name?  And that one's the whizzing Henry!!"

     Jason covered that paper with the open copy of the Times.  "I think the account here

is more accurate."

     It was, too.  A sane sober account, a short note on the solving of the coded messages,

names right, a nice photo of Dr Masterton pointing to a reliquary, a statement from the

Master and a brief listing of some of the finds.  What a difference!

     "Thanks Jason," I said, "I'll come and see Mr Tomkins.  I suppose that's all round the

College now.  Can't be helped but I wouldn't mind a copy of the photo."

     Jason felt in his waistcoat pocket and drew out a business card.  "I took the liberty of

asking Lenny for his card.  He's a good bloke, lives just off the Milton Road and went to

school with Sheena."   Sheena, I knew, was an elder sister of Jason's.

     Ivo went off with Jason to find out times of trains to Church Stretton, the nearest

station to the village his mentor‑to‑be lived and Tris and I got ready to start another term of

lectures and, for Tris, it would be his last term of lectures before Finals.