Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:

Mark Henry Foster          The storyteller

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

Francis Michael [Microbe] Foster  Alias Toad

Angus Alexander McKenzie (Zack)   A young man with panache

Brandon McKenzie  His younger brother

Oliver Jensen   A Musical undergraduate with allure

Edward Jensen  Oliver's younger brother with extra allure

James Bowes‑Chesterton  Frankie's pal Bozo

Patrick Montgomery         Frankie's pal Moggo

Anthony Pugsley     A muscly friend of Toad and Shelley

Jack Goldman   Frankie’s friend and confidante

            There was still plenty to do in College even though the year had ended.  Although I had done well in the exams I didn’t want to slip behind and James Tanner wanted to go over chapters of a new text book he was preparing for undergraduates.  He asked if I and the girls would act as guinea pigs and read through and make comments.  Why not?  There was plenty which would be useful for Part II..   Also Tris wanted to make a start with the firm of Phillips, Van Zyl and Partridge and could stay in College until we had our planned holiday.  He had decided to take his Law Society course at the Law College in Bloomsbury right in the University area of London.  He could live at home and travel into town when required.  We were going to miss each other so dreadfully but I would be extra busy next academic year and we could meet up at weekends as and when.

            We made a couple of visits over to the bungalow as we had to report on the pictures in the cellar and inspect the two cups belonging to Paulus.  They were originals and both had very explicit scenes, again with young men with their mentors.  Paulus and Jacob had seen others like them in a private collection in Greece so they knew they were quite rare when they bought them at the London auction house.  Another reason for visiting was to report on the progress of the cellar restoration and the rebuilding.  Now that Jacob was able to get around just with the help of one walking-stick we invited them all over and there was much hilarity when they saw the wall-paintings.  Barry Hall came too and it was suggested he should be blindfolded as the pictures might be too much for his youthful sensibilities.  He just pointed out he was much older than us young whipper-snappers and, as an aside to Tris, said that he’d been employed as a waiter, when he was ‘on the run’ from home as a teenager, at several parties in the West End of London where the cavortings of the participants more than matched those in the paintings.

            It was also during July when Frankie got his call to College to undergo his interviews for the Pennefather Organ Scholarship for October 2004.  Because of all the upsets and hoohas of the past few months applications and interviews for many of the College places were behindhand.  Adam said it was odd being on the other side as he had the unenviable job of interviewing about twenty or so History aspirants for a dozen places.  At least, Toad said, the later date gave him more time to practice.

            As he was known in the College it was thought prudent to have two other assessors as well. Lewis Richards was one and the Director of Music at another College was the other.  I kept out of the way.  All I knew was there were three candidates again.  All I also knew was that all his pals were rooting for him and wanted a visit to the College.  His interview, like mine was on the Friday, but his was the third set of interviews.  He also stayed at the Arundel House Hotel and one of the lads in the choir at St Barnabas came as his page-turner and assistant.  This lad already had a place at King’s College London to read Music.  There was also another problem.  As the roof of the Chapel was in the process of being repaired the organ was unavailable being now wrapped in protective plastic.  So, the three lads had to play on the organ in another College.  It didn’t matter as none of them were familiar with it.

            From what I heard it was a close thing in regards to performing skills.  One of the others already had his ARCO, taken, I think, while he was at Eton - he’d also done a gap year in Australia in a Cathedral School - but he wasn’t too happy with the College as a whole.  He wanted to read Geology and thought he would apply to an Australian University instead as he wouldn’t mind moving there.  That left two.  The other candidate was odd.  His only interest was in playing the organ and he was good, having come second in an International Competition.  He was uncertain however what he wanted to read, it might be Music, it might be English.  The English don was annoyed anyway as he’d planned to take his wife and kids to Spain and had to delay and said no way would he offer him a place, not because of that, but he’d had better candidates for the few places available.  Actually, Frankie won hands down.  He was the urbane and self-controlled Francis I knew was there.  As well as the set piece and the two pieces of his own choosing - one by Messiaen, the other the Herbert Howells ‘Rhapsody’ - he insisted on not only playing the trumpet but also the piano, and from what Safar told me, in confidence, if he’d been asked to do a tap dance he’d probably have volunteered to swing from the chandeliers as well!

            So, never before in the history of the College had two brothers been elected Pennefather Scholars in succession.  Tris and I went home the next weekend and Auntie Di put on the most stupendous party.

            He had his pals there and he’d more or less pleaded with us to let them visit the College.  We had to go back to get things tidied up and tied up as far as I was concerned for next year.  So Frankie, alias Gobbo, with Moggo, Bozo, Pugsy and Jack came up early on the Thursday morning having finished school on Wednesday.  We shoved them all in Gabe and Josh’s set as they’d gone off to Rapallo with Lorenzo, and the newly arrived Raphael, who we hadn’t met yet.  Of course, Charles, as Assistant Bursar now, gave his permission for the stay.

            They were an absolute delight.  We laid on a big brunch for them in my set and they goggled at the luxuriance of it and Toad was preening himself that it would all be his in a year’s time.  We let him show them how to open the door and they had to look at the walls of the cellar from behind protective screens as the workmen were already in having broken through the doorway from the other big cellar and were installing all the extra lighting and ducting for God knows what.  There were subdued rumbles then great guffaws of laughter once they had taken in all the antics in the scenes portrayed.  Tris and I followed down after a suitable interval to find Frankie orchestrating a re-enactment of the courting scene with the other four cavorting, clothed luckily.  I had the impression there were plans for a replay at some time when the place was open but the participants would then be in the raw.

            There was even more ribaldry when we, having persuaded Charles to lend us a key, took them down into the Chapel crypt and showed them Johannes Knottus’s scratchings.  I said Adam had written a short paper on it but had discovered a bit more about him in the manuscripts found in the cellar.  He’d become a revered member of the Gilbertine order so they had to remember boyhood sins didn’t mean they wouldn’t turn out OK later.  The looks they exchanged with each other were priceless.

            After that they went off to the river and spent most of the rest of the day punting.  Tris and I went with them but sat on the bank below King’s and watched the stunts of the punts without the danger of a ducking.  Pugsy did a dive as someone grabbed his punt-pole as he went under King’s bridge.  Luckily all he was wearing was a pair of cut-offs and a tee-shirt so no harm was done.  The lads kept an eye on the perpetrator and he got a ducking later.

            It was while the rest were disappearing upriver that Bozo came and sat with us.  He had something to discuss and was a bit hesitant to begin with.

            “Gobbo, I mean Frankie,” he began, “tells me you live together in College.  I mean proper live together.”

            Tris smiled.  “True, we sleep together if that’s what you mean.”

            Bozo coloured up a bit.  “Are you both really......”

            “....Gay?” Tris finished his query.  “Yes, and I think everyone knows that.”

            Bozo nodded.  “I knew and Frankie said you were and he wasn’t bothered.  There’s a couple in our Form who are anti-gay but Frankie’s told them what people do with their lives is not their business.  Pugsy’s said he’d deal with them anyway if they got nasty...”

            Tris interrupted him again.  “....But you’ve got something to ask us haven’t you?”

            Bozo did colour up quite a bit this time.  He looked at Tris and then at me.  There was a pause.  “....I don’t know if I am.  How do you know?”

            My turn.  “I’m not quite sure,” I said, “We both knew early on.  By the time I was fourteen definitely.  But I had Tristan as a friend long before that.  It just happened one day.  I knew I loved Tristan, and he was a boy, and he told me he loved me.”  I smiled.  “You’ll know, I think.  Do you want to talk about it.  We promise we’ll listen and we don’t tell tales.”

            He looked very relieved and all his worries and queries and frustrations came flooding out.  Yes, he thought he only liked boys.  He knew Frankie had guessed.  He said that the night when Frankie and he were offered the opportunity with Moggo’s family au pair was a turning-point.  He wasn’t really drunk.  He just didn’t want to experience doing it with a girl.  Frankie had asked him afterwards and it was Frankie who said he should talk with us just before this visit.  That’s why Frankie said the boat was overloaded, he said with a grin.

            Tris asked him if there was anyone special he was fond of.  I’d told him what Frankie had said about Jello.   “It’s very difficult,” he said, “That school is very macho but you got through didn’t you?”  He looked at Tris.  “You used to scare us, you always looked so tough.”

            “As old boots, ...but marshmallow inside,” I said.

            “There is someone,” he said, having laughed dutifully at what I’d said,  “But I don’t know what to say.  He’s in Year Eleven, but he is sixteen.  He lives in the same road as I do and we travel in on the bus together most days.”

            Oh, I thought.  That’s not Jello.

            “What are his interests?” Tris asked, “Do you share interests?”

            “Yeah, we both belong to the Drama Club.”

            “Why not suggest a trip to the National Theatre,” Tris said.

            “Could try that,” he said, “And see what happens.”

            “Don’t be disappointed if nothing does.  Watching the merry-go-round with the other sort I think Tris and I are lucky, and we do know of others who are still looking, or have taken their time.” I said.

            “Where are you applying for?” Tris asked.

            “Sussex University.  I want to do their Biological Sciences course.”

            Tris laughed.  “You should be OK being at Falmer, it’s not far from Brighton and that’s the gay capital of the universe, I’m told!”

            Bozo laughed.  “I’ve heard that, but it’s not the reason I want to go down there.  It’s the course.  If I don’t get there I wouldn’t mind Southampton.”

            There was a shout from along the path the other side of the river.  The merry band of navigators had had their two hour’s worth.

            “Been any use?” I asked Bozo.

            “Yeah, thanks,” he said, “I feel better but I need to talk a bit more.”

            “You could try ringing that Helpline number, but if we’re around just ask...”

            The others had crossed the bridge and looked hot, thirsty and hungry.  They were ready for a visit to McDonalds for a quick burger and Coke and only Frankie looked at us and Bozo with any curiosity about what we might have been discussing.

            Their immediate hunger assuaged they did a tour of the town by themselves, then came back to the set for a pre-prandial drink before we took them all to the Café Rouge for a proper evening meal.  They were going home the next day and as we saw them off to the station Tris said to Pugsy that he didn’t want his sister worn out by too much extra-curricular activity as she needed to start studying for her A levels next year.  Pugsy blushed graciously and I think Toad would get a gentle thumping for letting on about the sexual activity which had gone on.   As the others had filed out of the set and Bozo and I were the last to go out I gave him a hug and said I hoped he could get sorted out, but to always use us as a sounding-board.  Frankie e-mailed us that evening thanking us from all and finished by saying ‘thanks for talking to Bozo’.

            We finished our clearing up and left Charles looking happy, but harassed.  He had a set plan for the ‘Celebration’.  “This will rival the King’s Cloister museum,” he said as he showed us the preliminary outlines of the two abbeys of Crowland and Sempringham on the wall of his cellar.  Mother’s artist friend was obviously very good and was coming to stay in College as soon as the electrical fittings were finished.  “I have also made preliminary searches in the Servants of the Chapel books for the middle to late 1700's.  I have the suspicion that the occupants of your set were successive members of the Lascelles family and after some scandal they were forbidden to come to this College and decamped elsewhere.  Some of the unsavoriness has been cloaked in the obscurity of the Latin tongue.  Perhaps dear Gabriel or the illustrious Boswell will check on my interpretation of these indelicacies on their return.  I must say my acquaintance with that language in the documents has made me work very hard and, I have to add, I have gained an admirable facility in translating much of the easier material.”

            His other plans were on hold.  “That man’s bequest is much more than first calculated,” he explained when we asked him about Hampton House.  “Once planning permission has been granted we should be able to erect a row of small apartments for research students as well as providing other student accommodation in the house.  My dears, I have a full life ahead of me.  I intend to spend a fortnight with Mother inspecting a small house in Villefranche she is set on purchasing.  That will, no doubt, be in need of refurbishment to meet her exacting standards.  She tells me it is very French and needs a careful hand.  As long as the plumbing is adequate I shall be quite happy.”  This last said with the finger and thumb of the left hand lightly pinching the end of his nose.

            So, we were off to the Villa to stay with Uncle Francesco and Aldo just for the month of August.  He wanted to know how many.  We had calculated twelve again.  Neither Adam nor Ivo were able to come and, with a bit of prompting from Frankie, Bozo and Moggo were invited instead.  With the rest of the previous contingent then of Zack and Oliver, Steady Eddie, Brandon and the three Italian lads, the Villa would have a full complement again.  Unc said his reputation in the town would be sky high with all these most handsome lads staying.  Of course, Bozo and Moggo had to be primed that it was quite a ‘gay’ establishment.  I think Bozo was more concerned than Moggo as they would be sharing a room.  I did ask for twin beds for them.  If they wanted to, they could push them together, was Tris’s comment.

            The month went so quickly.  Swimming, frisbeeing, crazy golf (Aldo’s latest fad), boat trips, sight-seeing, sunbathing, sex for the majority and for me, Frankie and Tris, two horrendous visits to see Grandma as well.  First time we sat indoors all the time as she complained of the barking dog in the flat next door.  The old maid she now employed, probably at starvation rates, produced watery lemonade and rather hard biscuits.  The second time she said she didn’t know what she would do without the visits of her dear grandsons and if it wasn’t so cold and wet she would move to England.  Frankie with a very straight face said the rainfall had been the highest for years and we were certainly not feeling the effect of Global Warming.   I got the feeling Grandma wasn’t as dim as all that and I got a ten euro note, but Frankie only got a five.  Tris got a special hug and came away clutching a twenty euro note and all he’d done was smile sweetly at her.  The Toad was disgruntled to say the least!

            Unc hooted with laughter when Frankie complained loudly at supper that night about his Grandmother’s meanness.  “I only had one pair of shoes when I was at school,” Unc said, “She said you couldn’t wear more than one pair at a time and I had to go barefoot around the house.  But she always had a soft spot for a friend of mine and he always got the extra pastry even if they were yesterday’s, half-price at the baker’s.”

            “Didn’t even get a pastry,” grunted Frankie, “And all Tris did was say how nice her flat was.  Creep!”

            “It is a nice flat,” I said, “And don’t forget Mum chose the main furniture so don’t criticise that.”

            He was getting worked up.  “I’m not criticising.  It’s just hard work dealing with old people.”

            “Like your Uncle?” asked Aldo, catching on to the tease.

            Frankie wasn’t going to be taken in.  “There’s old people and old people,” he said, “You and Unc manage to keep young...,” A good Toad sneer.  “...Must be difficult though.  Keeping the wrinkles at bay!”

            Unc laughed.  “They’re not wrinkles, Francis, they’re laughter lines!  And with you around they’re sure to show!”

            Frankie had the grace to shut up.  He was trying to work out ‘laughter with?’ or ‘laughter at?’.

            Almost every mealtime we had to tell some tidbit of happenings at St Mark’s.  We kept off the final moments of Drew, but Tris did say I’d been held safe by Piers.  That, of course, meant explanations and tales.  As Uncle Francesco and Aldo were visiting England in November they said they would stay in Cambridge and come and see the frescoes.  I grinned as I thought of Charles showing his Father the erotic portrayals.

            As last year there was one stupendous evening when Unc and Aldo took all twelve of us, arrayed in the latest Matteoli creations for trendy teens, for a meal in the most lavishly decorated restaurant.  As last year, as we stepped out of the two large limousines, there were photographers ready and waiting.  I wondered what Moggo’s and Bozo’s parents were going to say seeing their very handsome sons displayed in the glossies.

            Tris and I had several more chats with Bozo and we asked Zack to talk to him as well.  He was curious about how boys went about making love and we knew that on a couple of the afternoons when most were having a siesta, or going for another boat ride, he and Zack explored the ways together.  We knew as Oliver told us that he and Zack had discussed it all very carefully.  He said that both of them were very fond of Bozo who was a very intelligent, very nice lad, but he needed someone of his own age-group to help him.  We also knew that Frankie and Moggo were keeping an eye on him as well, and I saw them give surreptitious grins to each other when the pair disappeared off together one afternoon.

            A little later I was on a reclining bed sunning myself again when Steady Eddie came and lay on the one beside me.  “I said to Frankie this morning we straights are in the minority,” he whispered across the gap.  He was smiling.  “But I can’t think of anything better than sharing a holiday with all of you.  Bozo’ll be OK and Frankie and Moggo have plans for him next term.”

            “What plans?” I asked.

            “They know there’s a lad he’s got his eye on and they’re going to get him into skate-boarding as well.”

            “And, if he doesn’t want?”

            “Moggo’s helping to produce the Christmas play, ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona’ he says.  Bozo’s one of them and the lad’ll probably be the other.”

            “So once in tights they’ll see plenty of each other.  They’re not small parts I assume, never having seen the play...”  I grinned at him.

            He laughed.  “But you’ve seen Bozo sunning himself so you know!”

            True.  As usual there had ben an initial hesitation but once the first quick comparisons had been made the two new boys had soon shucked off their swimming trunks and were slathering sun-screen lotion on each other.  We’d all done the usual comparisons as well.  Both the lads had well-formed parts!   Also Brandon and Pietro now had fully-formed young dicks and Guido was even more prodigiously hairy with his small penis more or less hidden in the bush of hair.  He and Ernesto were always smiling at each other but it was still evident that Nesto was in charge.  They were now living openly together in a flat near the University and Nesto was working both for his degree and helping in Unc’s local finance office while Guido was well on in his clinical training.  Zack and Oliver kept an eye on the two youngsters who did come in for a bit of teasing about arriving late for breakfast or for rushing off to their room exactly at ten o’clock at night.  Their friendship, straight we knew, even if they shared certain pleasures, was helped in that Brandon had been having Italian lessons at home and Pietro had concentrated on his English lessons at school.  So, they had plenty of excuses for sloping off early to bed - to play with their game-boys, or to practice their languages, or to practice their boy-games!

            Tris and I just loved each other with every gesture, look and thought.  I hoped the enforced separation for the next year would not diminish that love.  Tris had the beginning of his career mapped.  I still had to complete my degree and then decide what I wanted to do.  There were always plenty of Maths teaching jobs in schools but I had the feeling there would be further opportunities if I did well enough.

            Not only that, I was now the Senior Organ Scholar.  I no longer had Tris to deal with the service schedules but Boz said he’d help out as one of his duties as Servant of the Chapel.  We heard that the new First Year Organ Scholar was another Welsh lad.  He hadn’t taken any organ diplomas but was a very competent pianist and had the LRAM diploma in piano and was going to read Anthropology.   All I hoped he hadn’t been raped and wasn’t rampantly happy-clappy!

            When we got home Frankie was definitely not happy.  Mum wanted to hear all the news and Frankie was still incensed about the five euro note when he’d at least been taken out for a meal on the previous visit.  Mum just laughed which earned her a classic Toad sneer.

            “She’s always been like that,” Mum said, “My Mother’s got plenty of money.  Maestro...” She always referred to her Father by the title the orchestra gave him.  “...left her very well off and she got a fortune from her sister’s husband when he died.  She even tried to get me into one convent school for nothing saying I’d probably become a nun!  Think of that, Francis, you wouldn’t be here!”

            For once Frankie was dumbstruck.  I think the picture of Mum in a nun’s habit scurrying about the streets of Rome, Florence or Palermo was too much.  He hugged her.  “You’re Mum and that’s all I want!” he said.

            Mum winked at me over his shoulder.

            Anyway, that evening as I was getting ready for bed, he knocked and came in.  “Thanks for inviting Bozo and Moggo,” he said, “They really enjoyed the holiday.”  He smiled.  “You and Tris and Zack have sorted Bozo out.  I guessed he was gay ages before we went but I didn’t like to say anything.  He’s the best friend I have with Moggo and Jack.  Moggo’s OK with it, they’ve been friends ever since we all started at the school and Jack knows, too.”  He shut the door.  “Bozo said Zack explained all sorts of things and I’m sure they tried some things out.  Zack’s very kind isn’t he?  He might look as if he’s a real toughie.”  He laughed.  “Five o’clock shadow at noon and I only shave three times a week!  I hope he gets to be Servant of the Chapel.  And he and Oliver make a good pair.”  He smiled again.  “You don’t mind me chatting on like this.  I think I’ve learnt a lot more about people this holiday.”

            I smiled back.  I had remained silent while Francis was telling me all this.  I put an arm round his shoulder.  “It’s all part of growing up.  Anyway, Frankie, from what I’ve seen this holiday I think you’ve been very kind, too.  I don’t think Bozo will ever forget how you’ve treated him - you were behind him all the time.”   I hugged him a bit.  “And you didn’t even tease Pietro and Brandon as much as I thought you might.  They’ve both grown up a lot, too, and I think Brandon’s a lot older than his years.”

            Frankie laughed again.  “He certainly is!   He wants to do Law like Tris.”

            I nodded.  I’d overheard a couple of conversations between Tris and him.

            He moved away from my grasp.  “Can I stay here with you tonight?” he asked, a bit hesitantly.  He smiled.  “Nothing like that,” he said, the cheekiness back.

            “Missing Steady Eddie, eh?”  I asked.

            “Yeah, I suppose so.  We talked a lot in bed.”

            “Just for company, then,” I said.

            “OK.”

            We both stripped off and clambered into my double bed.  Two nude boys held each other and he nuzzled my shoulder.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered.  As I stroked his back we both relaxed and next thing I knew it was morning.  I turned to give my bed companion a morning kiss and realised it wasn’t Tris.  My brother was still asleep so I kissed his damp forehead and put my arms around him and he snuggled up close.  I dozed off again.

            I was awaken by a wet tongue exploring my ear lobe.  “Best night’s sleep I’ve had for ages,” he said.

            I wriggled away from his tickling tongue.  “You mean you’re usually too busy to sleep.  I thought Eddie seemed a bit dozy most mornings.”

            A knee hit mine and I rolled away in case a knee caught me elsewhere.

            “Hunh!  He didn’t only talk and I thought I needed it plenty!”

            “Don’t tell tales,” I said, “He’s a boy just like you!”

            Toad was back.  He sniggered.  “Bloody hell, he is, too!  He’s still a virgin, though.”

            I turned and grabbed him and as he turned I whacked his bare backside.  “That was unkind you telling me that.  He’ll sort that little problem out before long and if not, he’ll get plenty when he’s at College.”

            Toad was contrite.  He turned back and put his arms round me.  “Sorry!  He’s not worried about it, though.  We all talked about it and he said he doesn’t know any girls other than a couple who are in their Sixth Form.  But it’s look, not touch, at that school.”

            “Yes, I heard that from Oliver.  It didn’t bother him, though.”

            “No, I know that.  Eddie says he’s not bothered as long as he meets someone he likes and wants it, too.”

            “When’s your next encounter with Minky?” I asked, suppressing a giggle.

            “Don’t know,” he said, “Got to find out if there’s anyone else been sniffing around while I’ve been away.”

            “Watch it,” I said, “If there has been, be very careful.”

            “What?  I might get beaten up by some hairy, over-sized thug?”

            “No,” I said, “I think you can take care of that, but it’s what you might catch if you’re not very careful.”

            He sighed.  “I know.  I’m not daft, though.  I do know the risks.”  He moved closer and put an arm round me.  “You and Tris?”

            I would be truthful.  “With us we don’t have to worry.  With the others there’s only been one I didn’t know about and he insisted we should be protected, just in case.”  I was referring to Dude when we were at Ulvescott Manor.  With Oliver, Zack and the Thugs we all knew we were OK.  “I won’t tell you so it’s no use asking.”

            He held me tightly.  “I wouldn’t ask.  Just that I’ve read gays usually have had lots of partners and sometimes they’re not careful.”

            “I don’t know about others but I’ve really only wanted Tris.  You don’t need to ask who my other partners have been - you can guess.”

            He nodded against me.

            “Anyway, it’s time to shift ourselves.  I’m hungry and I want my breakfast!” I said.

            He pressed himself against me.  I felt a very sturdy erection against my leg.  It just about matched my morning glory!

            “Got to deal with this first,” he said pressing it against me again.  “...and my bladder!”

            He slid out of bed, turned, bent back slightly so his young monster pointed straight up, gave me a thumb’s-up sign and a big grin, then opened the door quietly and went to the shower room.  I needed relief, too, so I went into my bathroom.  As soon as the door closed I jacked off very speedily before I could empty my also full bladder.  I grinned to myself, wondering how many boys had been through, or would be going through, the same ritual on getting up.  Countless numbers, no doubt!

            I went with Tris to check out where he would be studying and we had a good look round Bloomsbury dominated by the looming white tower of the London University Senate House.  There were no students about, just tourists, as we wandered through looking at the colleges nearby, School of Tropical Health and Hygiene, School of Oriental and African Studies, Institute of Education, University College, Birkbeck College and then ended up in a big bookshop on the corner of Malet Street where Tris found the books he needed.

            “All very practical now,” he said, grinning, “Three years of all the theory, now a year to find out what to do with it.”

            “And I shall miss all the practical work we’ve had over the past two years,” I said.  “In fact, I’ll miss you a lot.”

            He laughed.  “But, I’ll be popping up to Cambridge quite a bit at weekends, so keep my space in the bed warm  - just you!”

            We’d discussed me sharing my set with Oliver and we both knew that two gay boys, good friends in any case, would have a hard job keeping apart.  Both Oliver and Zack had been in discussion with us as well and we’d made a pact that Oliver and I would look after each of our partner’s interests and keep any interactions to a minimum.  In any case, there would most likely be either Zack or Tris around most weekends and both Oliver and I would be very busy in this our Finals year.

            I spent the rest of the holiday practising the Fellowship pieces at the local church and working through the draft of James Tanner’s next two chapters.  That was most useful as it now reached topics I would be dealing with in my Third Year and there was plenty to contemplate.  I wrote copious notes on bits I didn’t quite understand but, in the main his exposition was very clear.  As far as love-life was concerned it was rather restricted as Mum was around quite a bit and Toad was moping as Minky had, true to form, found another stiff dick to engage her interest.  As this stiff dick was attached to a rather aggressive-looking young man Toad thought it advisable not to confront him.  Then he, while performing some dare-devil act on his skateboard managed to do a cartwheel or similar without the board and came home much bruised and with a sprained ankle.  This did not improve his outlook on life but he, I, Tris and the others in the party at the Villa were much heartened when letters arrived from Uncle Francesco and Aldo enclosing cheques for five hundred pounds each as modelling fees for the appearance at the restaurant.

            Bozo and Moggo came to see the bruised and battered Gobbo the next day bearing their letters and copies of the lads’ magazine in which we were all prominently featured.  They were beside themselves.  A month’s holiday then getting paid as well!  Tris and I did a quick sum and came to the conclusion that six thousand pounds was not too bad a payment for all the publicity as Aldo had also sent a couple of cuttings from Italian papers as well.  Gobbo was preening himself.  He was going to get quite an extra sum when he was eighteen as being the prime mover of the trendy teen fashions.  Aldo had also sent a cheque to Jack for all the leg work he’d done up and down Oxford Street - orders were flooding in we were told.

            I had come back with a load of dark red - the College colour - headbands, wrist-bands, baseball caps and a dozen jockstraps, all adorned with the M for Matteoli logo - for distribution once I returned to St Mark’s.  The dozen colourful jockstraps were reduced to six once Tris and I and, the four fiends - I mean friends - had their share.  That night I had Frankie with me again.  More chat, but first displaying the well-filled pouch as he flaunted his assets before casting the garment off.

            “I hope that thing’s had a wash,” I said as he dropped the article on the top of his discarded clothes, “You’ve worn it every day you’ve been back.”

            A Toad sneer.  “I’ve got three others.  Aldo said I could help myself.  I’ll lend you one except I don’t suppose you need much support unless it’s a truss!”

            Luckily he couldn’t hobble out of my reach quickly enough.  A resounding slap on his bare arse was simple retribution.

            “Ouch!, That hurt!” he whined.

            “No more than you deserve and I won’t offer to kiss it better!”

            He laughed.  “Bet you would if Tris had an injury there!”

            “Yes, I would, and anywhere else that mattered.”

            He flung his arms round me.  “Oh, Marky, I love you and Tris so much.  I wish I could find someone to love as you two do.”

            “You will,” I said.

            Two boys got into bed and with true brotherly love helped each other to a spurting squirting conclusion to a very happy day.