Aladdins Awakening

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.

This is a very long tale. It unfolds over a good number of years. What is true, is true: what is not is otherwise.

ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

By

Joel

CHAPTER 61

Part Two

Vignettes From My Life:

41: [Continued]

They went off and I went to look for the other pair. I still had my second task to complete. I found them chatting up Mrs Evans each with a buttered bun in their paws. She smiled and said boys were always hungry. Didn't I know it! I just wondered how many tons of food had passed from the kitchen into the stomachs of all the lads who had passed through, or were still in residence, in our household. They followed me out and I said to young James that I'd seen him looking at a rather nice pottery fruit dish the day before and I expect he wanted to give it to his Mum for a Christmas present. I gave him a ten pound note and off he went. He'd also sensed I wanted to talk to Peter.

We wandered back along the corridor and I went into the library again and he followed. I never believed in making idle small talk and Peter knew that.

"I talked to Andrew on the way back this afternoon," I said and he nodded, "You've been forgiven for a long time. He said he had been hurt and he hated you for a time for hurting his pride." Poor Peter, he looked so sad then. "It's alright now. He said you still tease him." I smiled at him. "You two remind me so much of your grandfather and his brother. Your great-uncle Andrew always teased Lachlan. They loved each other just like you and your Andrew. The last time I saw them together Flea was pulling your grandfather's leg about something. You tease your brother but always make it a loving tease." He had cheered up and smiled. "Tonight when you go to bed go in and tell Andrew. James can talk to Nicolai." I chuckled. "There's room for four in that bed. I should know!" Peter looked at me with open eyes. "Don't forget, Gramps was a boy many, many years ago. That bed could tell a few stories. I might write it up one day. 'Memoirs of a Beautiful Bed'." He grinned back. "But don't stay too long. Andrew and Nicolai need time together and you've got to get your beauty sleep ready for class in the morning."

The grin was broad. "Thanks, Gramps, for everything."

"I hope you're not leading young James astray, either."

"I don't need to," he said with a cheeky grin, "He's older than me anyway!"

"You want a present for Mum?" I asked.

He nodded. Another ten pound note exchanged hands.

Just before four o'clock two very happy young men came into the library where I was still sitting and reading a first edition of Voltaire's 'Candide' of 1759. I wondered who had brought that back from France? Probably somebody who brought the picture of Agnes later.

"Gramps," said Andrew, "We just lay and held each other. We never even spoke. We know. Even when we are separated we'll still feel like this I'm sure and so is Nicolai. Please tell us you're happy as well for us."

I held my hands out and they grasped one each. "Be happy."

They smiled and held hands too. The peace was broken by the appearance of the other two with a bag each of some precious merchandise.

"Gramps," said Peter, "We both got what we wanted. Here's the change."

Young James also held out a hand with a couple of notes and some coins.

"No, you keep it. There are other people to buy presents for. Perhaps tomorrow morning we might all go shopping. It's tea-time now."

They were off to stow their presents away upstairs as fast as possible as keeping a boy from the prospect of food was something to be kept to a minimum. Andrew and Nicolai quite spontaneously leant forward and gave me a kiss each on my cheeks.

Mr Evans did us proud that evening for dinner. I think on Sayed's instructions his cordon blue double blue ribbon haute cuisine expertise was fully called on. We had assembled in the drawing room at half past six and there was a young waiter there who poured drinks and passed round plates of very tempting tidbits. I saw Ibrahim casting eyes at the very tempting young man who I found was a student at the local catering college gaining experience as well as some well-earned cash. Then at seven dinner was served in the dining room. The table looked fabulous, even more than when Mrs Crossley had brought out the family silver and crystal. I noticed the boys kept glancing to see if the right knife, fork or spoon had been picked up but they soon relaxed. They had been warned there were seven courses so don't pile the plates when served. A delicate onion soup with fresh, hot rolls, was followed by thin slices of roast pheasant on a rosti base with Cumberland sauce and petits pois. After that course followed course. We all sampled the 'grape juice' as it was euphemistically called and after a laden dessert bowl of fruit was passed round the table by one of the two white-jacketed young waiters and picked over I think even young Peter had had almost enough food to last him until breakfast. Nicolai had looked at the array of fruit. "I have a banana, please. I like them. I eat them at school always. Zhat Roly he name me banana boy." There was a suppressed giggle from Peter and I saw a quick glance between him and Andrew who was sitting on the other side of the table from him. Peter looked at me and wrinkled his nose. I guessed why Roly called Nicolai banana boy.

Nine fairly comatose replete figures repaired to the drawing-room for coffee. Four youngsters went to bed by half past nine. We others followed shortly after Lachs and the others had heard a bit about our day. Lachs and I were the last to leave but I told him a bit more. He had recognised that his grandson was in love. I assured him I thought it would be alright, at least until the time to separate. I said I would discuss it all with Stephen and he smiled. He was so proud of Stephen's accomplishments and I heard that he was now being tipped for a major post in the dance world. I slept soundly again and heard in my head that all was well.

I was up with the lark as usual. Mrs Evans had prepared breakfast giving her husband a rest. I complimented her on the wonderful dinner and heard there had been two sous-chefs as well as the two waiters, all lads from the college and they loved working at the Manor. Sayed entertained two or three times a month as he had to keep in touch with his family and the various factions. Mrs Evans confided some came looking daggers at each other but the tranquillity of the house and the way it was run soon helped to calm things down. I nodded. I had always experienced that feeling whenever I was in the house. Only when Jacko was being Jackoff in those teenage years had I disturbed the equilibrium but it soon returned once I, or me, had been sorted out. I felt this visit had helped two more young men to some sort of balance in their lives.

The young men came into breakfast looking so radiant I knew the house was working its quiet magic.

"Gramps," said Andrew, giving me a quick peck on the cheek, "Wasn't it wonderful last night. We were so happy we just held each other and slept. We wanted nothing more than to be together."

Nicolai was more forthright. "Zat was after we loved." He held up the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "Two......"

"Nicolai!....." said a rather startled Andrew.

Nicolai held his hand up again. "We tell Gramps all. You know you say boy say tell all. I not lie." He looked at me then bent and gave me a peck as well. "I tell you... yesterday.... Those two things we did. One." He made an expansive gesture across his stomach and chest. The meaning was clear. A flood. "Then. He say share. We share. I have him in me." He pointed to his mouth. "He has me there and then we share. He say spunk, we say malofya, it is, what?, it is us, from inside for making. We share. We make!"

Andrew went up to Nicolai and put his arms round him. "We shared. It's true. It made us true friends." He reached up and brushed back Nicolai's hair. "You are my beautiful Nicolai."

Nicolai smiled. "You are my beautiful Andrew. We love."

Oh! I just hoped no hearts were to be broken. That nothing went any further until the future was certain.

"OK, let's get down to business. It's breakfast time. You are here where are the others?"

Nicholai looked at me and grinned. "They wash. He say." He pointed to Andrew. "He say get up dirty buggers you stink!" He laughed. "Zhat is very rude. Zhat Roly says zhat."

"Nicolai!" came a gasp from Andrew. "You don't repeat things like that."

"Then you not say them!" He turned to me. "I tease him, eh? Like Peter?"

I laughed. "But you have to be careful when you say them."

"Yes. I see. Boys say. Not to others. I learn not say." He laughed. "It is not easy. They say things and I not know. That Roly he say piss and I must not say. You tell me true Andrew? I am rude I do not know."

"Andrew will tell you what is correct," I said. "If he says something rude he will tell you."

"Gramps!" He sounded just like Francis or James all those years ago.

"And here are the stinkers!" I said as I heard them coming down the stairs. "All clean and sweet. Come on, start your breakfast before they come in." Too late. Two famished creatures elbowed their way to the covered dishes on the side table.

"Hello Gramps!" said Peter, "Gosh we slept. He...," He pointed at his elder brother. "...He came and pushed us out of bed. Not fair. You wait!"

An hour later, stomachs settled, the three lads did class as they would do each day, if possible, until they retired. As yesterday, young James and I accompanied them. As yesterday, concentration was absolute.

The three went off to shower and change. Young James was full of praise. "They have to work hard," he said, "Peter says its their life." He looked at me still sitting on the piano stool. "I hope Andy and Nicky will be happy. I like Nicolai."

I said I hoped they would be, too. I said their life seemed hard but if you liked doing something it made it easier. He smiled. He knew I wanted to hear him play.

He did. Faultlessly. The opening movement of a Haydn sonata I remembered playing at about his age. Where I had stumbled his fingers rippled.

Lachs and Sayed were sitting in the library reading the morning papers.

Sayed hugged his grandson and poked a little wad of notes into his trouser pocket.

James stood back and felt in his pocket. "Grandad, thank you, but it's too much."

Sayed smiled. "For you, nothing is too much. You and Iyad and all of his others." He pointed to me. "I think of all of you as his sons and grandsons and they're mine as well."

"And mine!" came Lachs' voice from the depths of his armchair.

Yes, we three went back a long while. I felt a pang though. Next year it would be twenty years since that irrepressible imp died. I felt in my jacket pocket.

Yes, that memento was there as ever. That lieutenant's pip returned to me.

I took the boys shopping as Sayed had insisted on giving me an equal amount for the other three, including Nicolai. He shook his head when I tried to give the notes to him. "No, not for me. I have done nothing. I have no money but I am happy."

"You have it, Nicolai. You can buy something for your friends."

His face lit up. "I do!"

I saw Peter and young James buy identical silver chains and Andrew and Nicolai bought matching silver rings as well as chains like the other two. I wandered off to see what I could find for Jem and Sam who would there on Christmas Day as usual, sweating and swearing in the kitchen. Then, I mentally went through the list and bought something silver for everyone I could think of and found something very suitable for someone.

The boys had wandered off to a small clothing store and in their absence I also bought four silver bracelets and, as I went to the farm shop for a supply of their fine olives, the assistant engraved the names.

Nicolai was true to his word. He had spent all his money on his friends. He had bought the ring and chain for Andrew and in return Andrew had bought his. He showed me what he had bought Peter and James. Matching sets of Parker pens and pencils. He had even bought Roly and Carlo and about five others tee-shirts with various captions on them for them to wear in the dance studio. He opened his hand. One fifty pence piece. All he had left. The widow's mite. "I buy you some more." He pointed at the bag with the olives in their boxes. He came back beaming. The shopkeeper had realised that was all he had and had given him more than the fifty pence could possibly buy. "I am happy," he said giving me the package.

On our return to Cambridge we found Iyad had turned up at last having been staying with his walking friend he'd had for years. He was going to spend Christmas with us and his father and then go back to Chester for the New Year. He had finished his law degree a couple of years previously and had just done a further year getting a master's degree. He'd started work in the family firm in Chester specialising in tax. Don't ask why but that's what turned him on! He said the twins were driving everyone insane. They were in the third year of some four year degree in computing and had gone to different firms for their intercalated year to get experience. This was the first time they had ever really been separated. One had remained in Sheffield, the other was in Leeds. In their spare time they were designing some system for instant communication and both firms had seen the potential although they were supposed to be working on other projects. This meant problems of copyright and Iyad said he was keeping well out of it. He said the pair were just as insatiable as ever and seemed to have a different bird on their arms each week according to their reports home. We'd better watch out they'd made invasion noises for the New Year!

It was decided he could have the bed in Francis's room until Christmas Eve then he would have to go in the bunk in the boys' room as Jody and Peter the elder would be arriving. Anne and her bed plan!.

We'd heard all the tale sitting in the kitchen with the three boys hovering for more food - young James having hotfooted it for home to plague his mum to allow him to stay the night at ours. Ma was helping Anne to butter teacakes and then came and sat between me and Nicolai.

Young Peter had started on his first bun. He was thinking great thoughts. "Yad could have the top bunk tonight if Jamie stays. Why let him muck up that other bed and make more work for Gran. Gran!" he asked, "may I have another bun?"

"Creep," said Andrew.

"And I'd have to sleep in with the infants!" said Iyad with mock horror. "I can't change nappies anymore, I had enough of that years ago!"

I watched Nicolai absorbing this interchange.

"It was only his," said Andrew, taking a bite and pointing at his brother. "Mum said I kept her busy so anyone else to help with him was useful. Stinky creature I expect!"

"Yes he was," said Iyad, warming to his task of teasing the teaser. "It seemed like every hour on the hour. I spent my Easter holiday cleaning him up. All I remember is his little red bottom."

I waited for a response from Peter. Iyad would be hounded from now on but he knew how to tease. Nicolai though leaned across the table.

"Yes, sir," he said to Iyad, probably not having quite sorted out who the smart young man was, "He has good red bottom. Good for slap and tickle."

Everyone burst out laughing, including Ma who put her arm round Nicolai's shoulder and whispered something rapidly in his ear. He laughed out loud. "I make good English joke. You get slap and tickle when you grow." He sneered at Peter. "You too little boy now for slap and tickle." He smiled at him. "But you grow. Good body some day. Now you get tickle always and slap sometime. I see tonight!"

How they arranged their beds I never did find out but from the squeals, giggles and laughter it sounded as if the older ones put the younger pair in their places.

The next day was Nicolai's birthday. Andrew told me he was giving Nicolai the silver chain, so after breakfast, before the boys went to the room to do class, Nicolai opened his presents. He knew about the chain but then he opened the small box from Anne and me. The silversmith made a whole range of small pendants, miniature musical instruments, crucifixes, Stars of David, and so on for hanging on the chains. I had spotted the perfect pendant. Nicolai held up his present, beaming all over his face. It was a beautifully sculpted silver miniature banana. On the card I had written 'To our lovely Banana Boy, Love, Gran and Gramps'. During class he wore the chain with its pendant and the tee-shirt the boys had bought him with the large inscription on the front 'Hot Property. Handle with Care!'.

During the morning the boys came with me to show Nicolai a bit of Cambridge. He gazed out of the window of my room and shook his head. "Ver...ry beautiful." Andrew explained to him we would be going into King's College Chapel that afternoon for the Nine Lessons and Carols and that was why the big BBC vans were outside. We looked quickly around the town and the swarming throngs doing their last minute Christmas Eve shopping. That afternoon Ma and I walked with the four boys back to King's. Nicolai sat next to me and I felt his whole body stiffen expectantly when the first ethereal notes of 'Once in Royal David's City' were heard coming from the throat of a single small choirboy who until that moment didn't know which of the boys would be chosen to open the service. At the end, as the organ thundered out the concluding voluntary, he held my hand. "Thank you," he whispered.

Christmas Day was its usual happy, busy occasion. We had a real houseful as Jody and Peter had arrived late Christmas Eve and were there to conduct class even on Christmas Day. We opened presents after that. Young Peter's fourteenth birthday. The child once really now on the cusp of manhood. He had special presents for his birthday as well as the customary Christmas presents. For his birthday Anne had chosen a rather grown-up leather travelling set. A suitcase, an overnight bag and the essential toiletries bag. There were a few catcalls as he opened that to display its contents which included a nifty safety razor.

There was a special light shining from those happy eyes of Andrew and Nicolai as they opened the small boxes with the silver rings. They smiled at each other as they held them but we noticed they did not put them on. There was a gasp from each of the boys as they opened the boxes from Anne and me. Silver bracelets were put on and admired. There were useful presents as well. Everyone seemed to get items of clothing. Young James was sent upstairs to put on his new rowing leotard and got wolf-whistled on his return. It was very tight fitting and one saw very clearly the lad of fourteen was developing fast, in all directions. Ma and Anne must have bought up most of the young men's department at Sayles as shirts, sweatshirts, pullovers, boxer shorts, bikini briefs and even briefer undies were held up and raved over.

I could just see Ma enquiring about fashions in men's underwear and buying tanga briefs in several different sizes as even Iyad had some as well. 'Death in Short Pants' would be a good title for her next novel! But then, all English boys know their mothers always buy their underwear and even after leaving home there was always the unwritten assumption that I needed to be kept decently clad underneath just in case of the ever possible accident and the hospital would be appalled if undies were unclean or in tatters. Nicolai was overwhelmed with all the things he was given. I whispered to him that he had given everything to his friends and all this was given to him with love. There were hefty squarish parcels for each of Andrew, Peter and young James. Presents from Ma. Copies signed by the author of 'Paul's Odyssey'. Ma had wrinkled her nose when she had finished reading the proof copy Kanga had given her. "Boys!" she said, "What do you expect!" Then she laughed. "And they don't think their mothers know! Huhn!" Oh, trusty towel, you couldn't have been the only thing!

Khaled and Troy were much in evidence and much in demand for sniffing. They had given all and sundry quantities of expensive soaps, aftershave, deodorants, powders and perfumes and the boys especially had anointed themselves liberally. I think it was Safar later who remarked, having sprayed himself copiously with his Aramis present, that the place smelt like a Turkish brothel. I saw Peter open his mouth and the look which his brother gave him which shut it again, so we never knew what acquaintance dear Uncle Safar had with such establishments.

Christmas lunch was a quietly riotous affair. Tariq turned up with Tris and his girlfriend. Tariq was now working with Khaled as an actuarial assistant on their insurance side. His pal Perry was coming later as he was having lunch with his parents next door but one. Perry had sorted himself out during his travels in Australia and had come back and taken a degree in statistics and computing and was now something called a systems analyst, also in Khaled's company. Their early joint sexual contretemps seemed to have been overcome, both had girlfriends in the company but one never enquired if they were going to settle down as they were now around thirty. Perry's daughter, now almost starting secondary school was very pretty but had never been told that Perry was her father. She looked on him as a very attentive uncle. Tris and the girlfriend, shacked up together now for some years, worked for a big bookstore in the town. Happy in each other's company with Kanga desperately asking them to join his firm as he was working flat out. 'Maybe sometime' was the usual reply.

Luscious Lucius had come in with Safar and Charlotte and they had brought with them a young man I hadn't seen before. He was introduced as Dominic but nothing more. Safar said to me at some point that he was a third year science student from Jesus but he would tell me more later. He was a nice-looking lad, quite tall and seemed a bit shy. This didn't last long as he was plied with one of Khaled's lethal concoctions and a couple of glasses of the innocuous tasting fizz later he seemed much more relaxed and was chatting to the boys quite animatedly

The final arrivals were Grunty and Valerie.with their three boys. Nathan was now, I think, twenty and following in father's footsteps, but at St Mary's Hospital in London. Michael at eighteen was in his first year at Queen Mary College in London reading Physics and the other young James, Jimbo, at fourteen, in the same class as our young James. Oh, God! The three boys were just like father and uncle, short, squat, lop-sided grins and, with Nathan, the trademark broken nose of the seasoned rugger player. He had been snapped up by St Mary's who, invariably, seemed to win the London Colleges Cup. They were soon gathered into the mass of young humanity. Michael and the new lad, Dominic, were chatting and I saw Jimbo and young James cross-legged on the floor by the table with plates and a glass each at the ready and self-satisfied grins on their faces.

No way could we seat the thirty or so in the dining room. Jem and Sam had recruited a couple of strays from their houses to help in the kitchen. They had decided on turkey, plus all the trimmings but served buffet style. Sit where you can but do not spill or wipe greasy fingers on the furniture was the stentorian order from Jem, well used to addressing noisy students milling around the Porter's Lodge.

The noise really only abated while mouths were beings stuffed. Even then I heard Nathan, perched on the arm of Nicolai's chair, expounding on the off-side rule in Rugby to an attentive but only partially comprehending listener. I whispered to Nathan he was one of our resident ballet stars and was Russian and was quite surprised when I heard the rest of the rather one-sided conversation. "Sorry mate, I rabbit on." He looked at the obviously very fit and muscled young man. "You'd have made a bloody good fly-half. Anyway, I took the bird I had last year to see Manon at Covent Garden. Wow, that Darcy Bussell, could fancy her! Some of those boys! Very well-equipped! We're coming to see this lot. My favourite's Romeo and Juliet, but I like Nutcracker. I wished I'd seen their dad when he was boy but I'll see them. You dancing?"

All this between forking in generous amounts of assorted foods from the piled up plate.

I heard Nicolai say he wasn't dancing but would be at Easter. He would be doing a solo from Spartacus. Nathan nodded knowledgeably, "You Russians are bloody good. Got plenty of muscle. And Uncle Jody's marvellous, saw him in...." I walked away before I heard the rest. Nathan surprised me, but why be surprised?

In a quieter corner I had a chat with Safar and Charlotte. I heard a bit more about Dominic. He'd been chucked out by his father for much the same reason as Jody all those years ago. In preparation for the lad's triumphal return home with his degree all bright and shining, father had decided to have his bedroom redecorated. Unfortunately for Dominic father had noticed a loose slat in a bedroom cupboard and had hauled out the stash of gay magazines and a couple of books of gay stories. All had been burned immediately and against his mother's protestations, she knew, father had forbidden Dominic ever to return home. This was even though the mags and books were handed on mainly by his second eldest brother, living, in Rome as a language tutor, but unknown to his father, with his Italian boyfriend. So Dominic was another of life's casualties. He'd come to Lucius's attention through one of the tenants and had been gathered, as it were, into the bosom of a more friendly family. Charlotte had been apprised of the situation and was acting as surrogate mum.

By this time Nathan's place had been taken by Dominic himself. A thought. As Nicolai wasn't required to return to the ballet school until term started he needed language tuition. Young James had volunteered as he and Nicolai had clicked as friends immediately. The quieter James against the more exuberant Peter but both great friends themselves.. But from the alert way Nicolai was attending to Dominic I thought some input from an older lad might be useful as well. I saw James come across and the three were spooning in Christmas pudding and brandy cream and chatting together. Perfect!

Having thus solved one of the problems of the Universe, which even Stephen Hawking might have difficulty in comprehending, I was feeling most happy and convivial. My only sad thoughts were that my own two sons were not present. Francis had 'phoned Christmas Eve saying he was enjoying the warmth and comfort of the sun at the villa in France, winding us up. Of course, he wouldn't leave Tony and the others but he promised to come back with Ibrahim after his visit in February. My pickle James had 'phoned this morning saying the twins were at loggerheads over some problem in programming and the sooner he off-loaded them on me at New Year the better. He said Diane sent her love and wanted to know if Yad had clean knickers. As Iyad had just unpacked a stack of varied underwear I said she'd better speak to him herself. To shouted greetings from the Newarks twittering in the background I passed the 'phone to Iyad. After a lengthy diatribe from the other end he just grinned and said "Mum!". But, I had Khaled, Safar, Stephen and Jody with partners and, where applicable, their offspring. Then all the friends. We should be humble in our gratitude.

On Sunday we recouped our strength and saw the two lads off with Stephen, Lisa, Jody and Peter. They had rehearsals on Monday ready for the performance that evening. We would all be there. We were. The Balcony held the combined might of the Thomsons and their family and friends. Jody made a very haughty Drosselmeyer and our own Sergeant fought the mouse horde with great confidence. Stephen as the Harlequin had to take two separate bows. The Devils were so evenly matched it was hard to distinguish. Minor parts but excellently done. We went wild as usual.

Nicolai had sat next to Nathan and had been invited to attend the next rugger match. I grinned trying to imagine what Nick, as everyone seemed to call him now, or NickyRussianBoy as Peter said, would make of thirty sweating, heaving, running, young men, hell bent on clinging onto each other, sometimes with the ball, sometimes without. Perhaps Peter and Lisa should choreograph a rugger match for performance! The way Nathan appraised Nick as they sat there and afterwards I just wondered if the birds were any sort of camouflage. I knew his father had had that pact with Francis. He had enjoyed what Francis could offer and then had produced these three most sturdy young men.

Human beings are so complex!

The idea about using Dominic, plus young James as dual language mentors for Nicolai worked well. On Monday morning we had walked down to the boathouse after Nick had done his solitary class with James watching and James had shown him the ergometers and they then sat side by side and exercised on them for half an hour. When we got back Dominic was chatting to Ma in the kitchen and the four talked about all and everything. There was little silence in the house. Nicolai heard and learned fast. As soon as Heffers opened I got a couple of books on teaching English as a foreign language for Dominic and he was really keen. He was also accepted as a friend and I got our Bursar to contact the Bursar at Jesus to make sure he wouldn't be in any hardship for this most important final term and a bit.

1. 1994

{Note: There are difficulties in transliterating Cyrillic letters into Roman.}

Young James moved in and slept in Nicolai's room, the excuse being he needed to be immersed in English. They slept together and I never enquired if and what they did together. But they became good friends. We heard during the week the Newarks would not be descending on us. They were rushing back to Sheffield to get on the 'main-frame' or something such. See you at Easter! So the week passed quickly and peaceably, for us all, then on New Year's Day in the Honours List came great news. Tim Parker was knighted 'for services to music' - 'a long overdue award' as more than one musical journalist remarked in articles praising his achievements.

The holidays came to an end and I think both young James and Dominic were sad to see Nicolai go back to school. He had come on so greatly in understanding as well as speaking in that short time. He didn't find reading too difficult. He had learned French from his mother as well as at school so had knowledge of the Roman alphabet. He marvelled we could get by with twenty-six letters when he had at least thirty-two in Cyrillic. I pointed out the French got by most of the time with twenty-five. It was only when they pinched words like 'le weekend' they needed the extra one. Nicolai was bright there was no doubt. I had noted he and Dominic were reading through young James's copy of 'Paul's Odyssey' together. I wondered if they guessed who was one character in the tale? Nicolai had a wonderful personality. He was outgoing and loving. I was the grandfather he hadn't known. Both his had died before he was born. I found his father drank too much vodka but loved his son. He had worked hard to get his son to the best ballet school in Russia. Anne was a substitute for his own grandmother who, he said, was quite frail. He had one much older sister, twelve or more years older, who was married and had moved away with her husband. He didn't know his cousins. So, the boys were like brothers he never had.

But both Nicolai and I knew there was a snag. Nicolai asked me if I had known before he came that he was 'goluboy' - a blue boy, a golden boy, a gay boy. I said I didn't know before and it didn't matter because I could see how close he and Andrew had become and all I was concerned about was their happiness. He said he was so happy now as it was difficult in Russia. He had had to hide how he felt. It was only with Andrew that he had begun to feel free. I explained how difficult it had been and still was in England. People were now a bit more accepting and Parliament was going to vote on the lowering of the age of consent to eighteen fairly soon. He said Dominic had explained that, too. He liked Dominic, he grinned, "He is 'goluboy'". Then his face closed. He shook his head. "His father. My father knows. He does not like but I am his son. He loves. But he says not to go back to village. Stay in big town." I asked him not to do anything with Andrew while they were at school. It was Andrew's last two terms there and he must concentrate on doing even better. He nodded. "I tell Andrew no love. Not even..." He smiled, "Perhaps....." he moved his wrist.

I shook my head. "Nothing else," I said.

He nodded and smiled.

As Nick had to be back the day before James I took him with me and drove both down to the senior school at Baron's Court. We left Nicolai to greet Andrew by themselves behind closed doors and to open the parcel of matching sweaters with the card enclosed 'To our two most loved Golden Boys' while James met up again with Roly, Carlos and the others who had been in the performance. Carlos cornered me. "We are so pleased about Andrew and Nicolai. Nicolai's a great guy, we'll be sorry to see him go. Still, he can always come back I suppose." I said I hoped he could and when he and the other lads had time to come and experience Cambridge. He said he had high hopes of a place with the Birmingham Royal and so did Roly.

A contingent went to the Easter performance. It was, as usual, a great occasion. Peter and two other lads had a trio spot fairly early in the first half as three young suitors which was very elegantly done and got a great round of applause. The last dance in the first half was Nicolai.. He had been trained well and the way he leapt in that complicated movement from Spartacus was breathtaking. He had strength and beauty and the audience knew it by the ovation he got. Andrew had two spots. A pas de deux from Swan Lake with a very accomplished young lady and his own solo spot in the second half, a series of very athletic dances from a modern ballet, done in no more than what looked like a pair of very short white shorts, which really showed off his ability and flair as well as his fine-toned body. I was reminded of his mentor and idol, Peter DeLisle, who had coached him so well and the audience liked what they saw.

The arrangements now were that the performance was on the last day of term so we waited while the three cleaned themselves up after having been in the final extravaganza. We talked to various other mums, dads and grandparents, all of whom were most struck with Nicolai's talent. The boys had already packed and Lisa and Stephen were leaving on a later train as there was a bit of a celebration for them given by the staff. As we left the building the porter called out, "Two letters for you, Mr Petrov." As Nicolai was carrying two bags and I had only the plastic carrier bag with their recently removed bits of clothing ready for the wash I took the two letters and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. I noticed they both bore Russian stamps. No more hammers and sickles, I thought.

Plenty of chat on the way back on the train. Young James was so pleased he'd seen Nicolai do a proper dance at last, not just all those exercises. "Class!" said Peter, "You never learn, Boatie!" Before reprisals occurred I told the boys that Stephen had just announced he had been appointed to the prestigious post with the Royal Ballet for which I knew he had been recommended. We would be celebrating once it was in the newspapers. "And I've been offered a contract there too," said Andrew quietly, "Wasn't going to tell you until we got home 'cause I wanted to 'phone and tell Ma as well." Three other boys leapt onto him, rather to the consternation of fellow passengers. He was hugged and kissed and he blushed and I did note James gave Peter a hug as well.

There was a note from Khaled on the kitchen table when we arrived home.

He and Troy would be out until late. Also a telephone call from France from Francis. Christophe would not be coming to stay for Easter. He'd been emulating a Tour de France hero of his, going at breakneck speed down a hill and, luckily, hadn't broken his neck, just his left arm. Young James looked so disappointed. I nearly said it was a good job it was his left arm, but a) I didn't know if he was right-handed, and b) by seventeen most boys are ambidextrous in certain matters anyway.

Food was needed and a stack of buns and cakes were dived on. I'd agreed, or at least Anne had decreed, all were welcome to stay rather than at the flat as Ma wanted a bit of peace and quiet and Lisa, Stephen, Jody and Peter would be around at the flat over Easter and they could do with a rest as well. Rest from what?

The boys were well into their third or fourth bun as we sat in the kitchen with Peter magnanimously saying that young James might as well stay and he could have a bunk bed in their room, when Nicolai must have remembered the letters. He fetched his jacket and found them. He looked a bit puzzled, I don't think he recognised the handwriting.

He tore open the first. There was a single piece of paper, typewritten in Cyrillic. He looked startled then ripped open the second. Another single sheet. Typewritten in Cyrillic as before. He flung the letters on the table, rushed out of the room and we heard him pound up the stairs and a door slammed. I looked at Andrew. He went off immediately upstairs. I picked up the first letter and its envelope. Funny, no 'return sender' on the back. I looked at the sheet of paper. I recognised the characters of his name 'Nicolai Filipovich Petrov'. No more. If only Ma was here. I scanned the other one. Some sentences looked the same but there extra words and some quite different sentences. I looked at the two stunned boys and a silent Anne. Something had happened.

"I'll find out," I said and went upstairs.

Nicolai was on their bed cradled in Andrew's arms. He was shaking his head rhythmically but saying nothing.

"He won't tell me," said Andrew sounding really scared and worried. "He just keeps saying 'Niet'."

We both knew the word for 'No'.

"He's been saying it as if he is very frightened. Ask him Gramps, please."

I laid down on the bed the other side and put my arms round him. "Nicolai, You're safe here. Tell me."

Gradually, with huge sobs now punctuating the story, we found that these were threatening letters. If he returned, the rotten freak he was would be denounced and he would end up in jail and boys know what happens in jail. He would probably die quite slowly. The second he said was more explicit, he would lose his balls, then he would be given to men in prison who had not seen a woman for years. The meaning was clear. But who had sent them? He said his father had borrowed money for his training but he didn't think it was that. It was probably someone or some people who thought he might be better than other boys. There were criminals and others trying to make money. He said he thought he had been given the scholarship by a sympathetic director who knew there were dangers.

"Gramps," said Andrew softly, "we can't let him go back. I would die if he dies!"

I put my arm round him as well and held them both. But what could I do? I only had his explanation of what the letters contained. I needed to know if what he said was true. I also needed to know if the threats were genuine.

"I need to know what is in the letters. I will get them translated tonight and then I have an idea of what to do."

I left the boys and went downstairs. I said it sounded worrying but I had a plan. The others were not to disturb the pair and I would tell them more later. I looked at Anne and she nodded. She guessed who was to be consulted if things were rough. I went to my study and dialled the Porter's Lodge. I asked if the duty porter knew whether Gary Ellis was in his room. If he was I would be in college very soon as I needed some help. Five minutes later Gary 'phoned from the Porter's Lodge. I explained I needed two letters translated from Russian. He said if it was urgent he would cycle round immediately. I said please, it was really rather urgent.

Gary was in his final year. He'd taken French subsid to his main study of Russian and some other Slavonic language. He was one who had already received one of what were known as the 'brown envelopes'. This was a discreet way of saying he had been approached to see if he would join the British intelligence service on leaving college.

Gary had said yes. How did I know? My lips are sealed. I had signed the Official Secrets Act many years before.

It didn't take him long to cycle round to the Barton Road. I took him up to my study without introducing him to the others. Anne had the pair in the drawing room and they were busy playing Monopoly. I wondered if they were really concentrating on the game very much. I knew I wouldn't have been.

I said this wasn't a test but it was probably his first case. He smiled. He looked at the envelopes first. He also noted no return to sender address which was very strange. He said the Roman characters were written by an educated person. He said often a professional writer might be paid to write addresses to countries not using the Cyrillic alphabet. "They've even got the address down to the postcode for Baron's Court. I know, I've got an auntie living close."

I gave him the two letters and a pad of paper. He read the first one, whistled and said it was a bit strong. There was an audible 'Ouch' as he read through the second one and he shook his head.

"Someone hates Nicolai Filipovich very much. I wouldn't think these are idle threats, either, I heard of plenty of nasty happenings when out there...." He started scribbling. As he translated he mouthed the Russian. "I'd better put what it says colloquially, hadn't I? There's lots of euphemisms like in English." He pointed at one sentence. That says they know he masturbates, 'lysogo v kulake gonyat', he pets his monkey as they say in the States is nearest though it's a bit funnier in Russian, plays with the bald man, I suppose. Then it says they know he plays the skin flute," he giggled, "Mustn't laugh but it's almost poetic," He grinned at me, "Like something else we've all read! Here it's 'igrat na kozzhanoi fleite', actually a leather flute." He whistled. "They said once all this is known they'll put him in jail and he would be...," He looked at me, "They use the term 'petuh', it's a slang term for a boy in prison, a chicken. And then it says he knows what will happen. To put it mildly, he'd be fucked to death, slowly."

He copied out that letter carefully then turned to the second one.

"This one starts the same but with variations. They know he likes other boys, he is a freak, 'uebitsche', he sniffs at their backsides, zhopa, and he wants the biggest.... Better put 'dick', I think that's the best for 'khuy', up his backside. Then it says he needn't worry that can be arranged, but first he would lose his balls, muda, and his backside would be...., I think 'pizda' is... You know... 'cunt'. In prison there are many men without a woman for a long time and he would be a 'pedik'. It just means he'd be fucked. He would catch diseases and would die slowly. And that last sentence is a quote, I think, something like 'death is a sweet release'. I've read it some time."

He wrote out that one neatly as well. He grinned at me, pleased at completing a job well done, then saw I wasn't at all amused as I was reading through his first translation again.

"Gary, promise me you'll never say you've seen these. If things turn out OK I'll tell you more."

"Is someone really in danger?"

"You've read the letters what do you think?"

He nodded. I did smile then.

"You certainly spent your time well on your year in Moscow. I thought I'd better ask you and not Dr Abramovich."

He smiled. He knew Jake very well. He was a superb linguist but a rather prissy young man. "Thanks for the compliment. And thanks for that recommendation."

I took him downstairs and he cycled off, his first case completed well.

I went back upstairs and dialled Lachs. As succinctly as possible I told him what had happened.. I read him the translation of the second letter. He said to get the letters photostatted and the originals would be picked up in the morning like any other document returns. He'd deal with it, he had a couple of favours to call in with a certain Embassy and he promised to do what he could. I slipped out and just got to the local supermarket before they closed and made two copies of each letter and the envelopes.

On arriving back I crept up the stairs as silently as possible. I could hear a low murmur from the boys' room. It must have been nearly two hours since I'd told Nicolai I would see what I could do. They were now sitting side by side on the edge of the bed. Nicolai looked red-eyed but was calmer.

I said very slowly what I had done. I didn't say Lachs was involved just that I had made contact with someone who could most probably help. Andrew was about to say something. He must have known it was his grandfather I had contacted but he said nothing. It was past supper-time and I knew the other two would be raving with hunger unless fed soon. Not to worry. Anne had raided the freezer and there were pizzas all round. Even Nicolai ate hungrily but kept his eyes on me for reassurance.

In the morning Andrew came down first for breakfast just after I had given a package to the young motor-cycle courier who had arrived exactly at seven o'clock. He said all four had slept in the double bed with Nicolai held tight and safe. I told him then not to say who I had contacted as he had guessed. I said the letters were evil and whoever wrote them was most probably very dangerous.

"Gramps," he said, "Please don't let him go back."

Lachs 'phoned me while the boys were doing class. While we waited why didn't I bring the boys over to Ulvescott? At least, he said quietly, while things are being sorted certain persons unnamed would be safe. Anne agreed. The boys were delighted. Ulvescott again! We set off by half past ten and were there before twelve. After lunch I sat with Lachs and the two elder ones while Peter and James went off to see what they could buy in the craft shops with the money slipped into their sweaty paws. Lachs said he had high hopes of success. He looked closely at the two now less-worried boys. He held Andrew's and Nicolai's hands and said he relied on them to make a great success of their lives. They promised.

The next morning young Peter alone did class while James and I accompanied him. We let the pair sleep. We knew that during the night they had become one. They had pledged their love and allegiance for ever. At lunchtime they wore their matching silver rings with loving pride. They came over to me and held my hands and kissed me on the cheek.

"Gramps," said Andrew, "This is your new grandson."

We stayed until Saturday morning. I thought I heard a motor-cyclist arrive as I was getting up at seven o'clock. Walid tapped on my door a little later and gave me a small package with a smile. When I went downstairs Lachs was already in the breakfast room. Very tersely he said from the message he had received that the courier had brought him all was true. But, his contacts had put a stop to anything further. I said I'd received something very precious for Nicolai. He smiled. "For our grandsons anything."

The four came into the breakfast room together soon after and I handed the contents to a now very happy Nicolai. It was a new passport, with an unlimited visa, and Igor Petrovich Godunov was born, aged eighteen years three months and a bit. He didn't have to return, but he would always be Nicolai to us.

We had to return. Anne had 'phoned the night before. The twins were arriving the next day would we be home? I said I didn't know but let Khaled and Troy deal with them. Anne muttered something about their poor parents wanted a quiet weekend and Khaled, Troy and she had thought they would too, but now!! I 'phoned to give her the news about the new Nicolai. "Bring him home!" Nicolai had entered her heart as well.

Lachs was amused when I told him the Newarks were about to come and roost. He said James had always had a good turn of phrase for anything. He'd love to see them soon, too.

Chaos reigned for the weekend. We arrived just before lunch-time. With superb timing, with the knowledge food was in the offing, the twins turned up within five minutes of us arriving home. They were in a rather dilapidated car and they were in high spirits as usual. Just the same as ever, duetting about everything. Nothing was said to them about the problem of the letters, they just accepted Nicolai as another member of this wide and varied family. They were busy. One more term with the firms and then their final year. They talked about computing, which the boys seemed to understand, but to me sounded like gibberish, RAM, ROM, MsDOS, and how their program was going to be the bees knees in allowing confidential communication. I did recognise prime numbers came into it somewhere.

Of course their Uncle Khaled came in for plenty of banter. They complained that Yad, as Iyad was universally known, tormented them and his only interest was in helping rich old ladies avoid paying tax. Uncle Kaled and Troy retaliated in the nicest possible way and took us all out to a meal that night. Khaled did point out that they were eating only because their dear 'brother' had saved a deal of tax on his last substantial bonus. They decided that Nicolai should sit between them so the poor lad looked as if he was at a tennis match, his head swivelling back and forth as one started and the other finished sentences.

On Sunday morning they sat on the bed and watched, in silence, as the three boys went through their routine. I watched as they appraised the two elder boys especially, darting glances between themselves. Anyway, everyone seemed to have a good time that day and the next. Khaled and Troy went off early Sunday morning saying they would be back late Monday night. I think the twins constant chat got to them a bit but the boys loved it. Easter Monday morning the twins sat and watched the boys again.

I realised something was going on because Tuesday morning I'd been in my study before going down to breakfast. On coming out I saw young James and Peter come out of the small spare room and one thumped on the door of Stephen's old room and the other rapped on the one opposite, Francis's old room. I thought perhaps they realised Andrew and Nicolai wanted a bit of privacy and the twins always slept soundly.

The other four soon turned up for breakfast and Saf was chatting to Nicolai and Jak to Andrew and the twins watched class again. As Peter could get the key of the boathouse they all went off a bit later for the boatie and the dancers to do arm and chest exercises on the ergometers. They all came back sweaty and happy, showered, using gallons of hot water and decided, after lunch to explore the new shopping centre. Anne and I had things to prepare, I for the exam board I was chairing once the exams started and Anne for a conference at the weekend.

Habit seemed to have set in. The twins were fascinated with the routines the lads had to do every day and I heard the music start up on the cassette recorder dead on nine the next morning. I then remembered that our recently acquired new cleaning lady had asked if she should make the bed in the spare room and Anne said it was the responsibility of the boys in there. I peeped in the room and it was just amazing how much clobber could be strewn around in a couple of days. So Peter and young James had decided to sleep away from the others. I shut the door. Then I remembered Mrs Chambers had also said she thought the lav next to the shower room might be blocked as it took several flushes to clear. Well, six lads with hearty appetites forced a goodly amount down their receptive gullets each day so it wasn't surprising that the results of the digestive processes should be substantial, too. But I thought I'd better check in case a plumber was needed.

I peered into the toilet bowl. Over the years I'd had plenty of experience in clearing various blockages and wasn't surprised to see a mass of toilet paper. I was about to give it all a shove with the toilet brush when I realised the paper was surrounding something or other which tended to float. No, not the usual toilet contents. I drew up the wodge with the toilet brush and realised there was a second mass below, which popped to the surface. Being more than a little inquisitive, as a memory from the dim past also surfaced, I found a plastic bag and manoeuvred the first package into it and gingerly poked at the sodden mass with the handle of the brush. Inside were two condoms. I noted two things. They were not ordinary ones. They were heavy duty. I'd read about ones called Trojans somewhere. Secondly, one had about twice as much creamy spunk in the tip as the other. Even more curious, I fished out the second bundle. The same. Two condoms, with one containing substantially more than the other. I smiled. That attentiveness. The looks. I put the two soggy parcels in the plastic bag, flushed the loo and took the bag down and put it in the dustbin.

I went back to my study. I looked out soon after the music stopped. Saf and Andrew came out first and went into Francis's old room where the twins were supposed to be sleeping together. A few moments later they emerged, laughing, with Andrew in the nude and a towel round his shoulders, ready for his shower, while, at the same moment, Nicolai, Jak and young Peter were coming out of the other bedroom where the dancers had been doing class. Both Peter and Nicolai were also nude and I also got a good idea then of why Nicolai had acquired the nickname of Banana Boy. His prick was semi-erect and bent quite considerably out to the left. They never noticed me as they went into the bathroom and I went back into my study and heard Jak and Saf chatting together going downstairs.

Two nights, two blocked loos. I guessed the twins, like their Dad and their Gramps were able to engage with both sexes. I wondered how much the 'birds' we heard so much about were figments of over-cautious imaginations? Now there seemed no doubt they had shared themselves with Andrew and Nicolai over the past two nights. The evidence of the paired condoms pointed to this. The knowledge of their own measuring, which their Dad had divulged, confirming that they followed the family pattern in output, was a particular clue. In any case I was so pleased that good sense had reigned in using adequate protection. I wondered who had insisted? And, for that matter who had a supply of that particular type? Those years ago I had purchased packs of what were coyly called 'Gossamer' for the pair. These were not they!

The twins had always been most favourite 'cousins' of Andrew and Peter.

I think they had now upgraded that relationship to brotherhood with Andrew and his partner Nicolai. The other two youngsters had divined the need for them to be alone and had moved into the end room.

The twins were in the kitchen eating, as usual. They looked up and grinned.

"Gramps," said Jak - the one with the telltale tiny scar by his eyebrow - "Gramps, Dad said you've got to tell us all about Ulvescott some time." "Not just about those diaries but other things and what's happened there." continued Saf. "Then he said he'd tell us about him and Uncle Francis," said Jak. "Please," pleaded Saf., "and Uncle Tony's book!"

I thought for a moment. I could hardly tell them without explaining everything to Andrew. And would Peter and young James be old enough to understand.

"Can we go over?" asked Jak. "We haven't seen Uncle Sayed and Uncle Lachs for ages," went on Saf. "And Ibrahim's promised to see if they've got an old car we could have," injected Jak. "'Cause ours is an old banger," Saf explained unnecessarily. "We'll drive over in ours and you can take the crew in the Volvo," Jak helpfully suggested. "That's getting old, too. Can't you get Cally to get a car on his company?" "If that didn't work I bet Yad could do a tax fiddle if you asked him," concluded Saf.

Anything for a quiet life. Or would it be? As Anne was speaking at this conference I 'phoned Ulvescott and spoke to Sayed. He just laughed and said bring the lot. I then spoke to Lachs and said my son James had suggested the boys learned a bit of history.

It was his turn to laugh. We'd pored over the diaries and he knew the contents well, he and his loved golden-haired brother. A long time ago for us but a memory as fresh as if it were yesterday. Then what seemed so few years ago, but thinking about it, it must have been at least 1965 when I had talked to the twins' father and uncle about love and affection and the story of diaries and happening so many years apart. Now, a fourth generation would know the contents of those early diaries. How would they react? Like all boys I guessed!

Even though the four had been to Ulvescott so recently the prospect of another trip appealed very highly. No doubt coupled to the fact that grandfathers were very generous as well. Nicolai was especially pleased. He kept saying it was a lovely place, he was so happy.

Lunch was ready when we arrived. There was a slight wait for the second car. It apparently needed a top up of oil every fifty-five miles which caused Lachs and Sayed great amusement. They recalled an old banger Lachs had when at the military academy and being caught for exceeding the thirty mile an hour limit. They pleaded with the policeman that the car couldn't go more than forty miles an hour so they must have been going downhill. Taking pity, the policeman had waved them on and then had to give the car a push to get it going. So much for the incline!

I thought that it was best to get the matter of the talk out of the way as quickly as possible. There was no way that young James and Peter were going to miss out as they guessed there was something afoot. So, as we finished lunch and Sayed and Lachs and the others left, I said we all should go up to Piers' room as I wanted to talk to all and discuss things. There was an air of quiet expectancy as we went up the stairs. I heard Andrew explaining to Nicolai he would hear interesting things and Peter said it was about their Grandads.

We found enough chairs to sit around the bed. I looked at the six boys. All called me Gramps. Two were true grandsons and one had his partner with him, two were sons of my adopted son and they, with the sixth, had their real grandfathers here in the house. I then laid out five diaries and other documents as well as a copy of 'Paul's Odyssey'.

Over the next three hours or so I held their rapt attention. I said of my introduction to the house, the Wellbeloved Manor of 'Paul's Odyssey'. They all nodded, even Nicolai, recognising the detailed descriptions from the book. I told of the lad who had given his life with his friend in the Great War and who I was quite sure still maintained a benevolent control and oversight of happenings. All six nodded again. In some way all had experienced that subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, presence. I spoke of the many coincidences. Of the shared school with Grandad Lachs and the Honours Board. Of the relatives in France, the boy with the same birthmark. The birthmark I shared with Piers, with Francis and now the twins. I saw Nicolai look at the twins in turn. He nodded. He had seen the birthmark on them at very close quarters over the past two days I was sure. The finding of the manuscript and the discovery of those complex linkages between the Thomsons, the Crossleys, the Fontanes and the LeFerreurs. They all nodded, they had all studied that peculiar family tree on which all appeared, some with heavy lines, some with dotted lines and onto which Nicolai would be added at some time.

I said there was evidence, too, of bonds of friendship, of pacts of brotherly love, within the generations. They had all read what Tony had written. He had veiled that final act with the metaphor of sealing the bond. There were looks between the four older boys which confirmed my almost certain knowledge before. The two younger boys looked at each other and nodded. Discussion, perhaps, but not action.

I then said that across generations boys were always the same. Inquisitive, exploring, their minds and thinking growing with the years, just as their bodies did. There were smiles. The twins especially looking at each other and wrinkled their noses. I pointed at the five diaries. I said three were Piers', one was mine and the fifth had recently been sent to me by their Uncle Francis. I said I'd shown Jak and Saf four of the diaries before so they knew a bit. They would show them what they knew but they hadn't seen the fifth one and there were quite a few interesting pages in that one as well. I then said the other documents were example of boys' inquisitive natures. I would leave them for a while to read and to discuss.

I went downstairs where Lachs and Sayed were sitting in the library drinking tea. They wanted to know how things were going and I said they were perusing the diaries and other matters and they laughed. Sayed put his hand out and grasped Lachs' hand.

"If we had not made our pact neither of us would be here now," he said, "And nor would my sons and grandsons. My sons would be in the desert or dead themselves."

"Both of us owe our lives to the other," said Lachs. He looked at Sayed and shook his head. "It's a pity we can't tell the whole of our story."

Sayed smiled. "Someday perhaps."

On my return I heard the boys excitedly discussing things. I opened the door and they all looked round grinning like mad things.

"Gramps," said Andrew, "It's true. All boys are the same!"

"That Piers, I showed them," said Jak, "He was as bad as Saf is now!" "Speak for yourself, brother dear," said Saf, laughing, "And as for Gramps!" "And that's Dad and Uncle Francis?" said Jak with mock surprise, pointing at Grunty's piece of paper. "And what Uncle Francis did in his diary!" exclaimed Saf, "Nineteen times two weeks running!" "Huhnh," grunted Jak, "Your record's twenty-four!"

Before Saf could chip in I just said quietly, "And I know two little Newarks who didn't quite come up to the family best!"

Saf and Jak for once spoke together. A duet of "Did dad tell you that's what he calls us?" and "How did you know about us?" The other boys looked at the pair in silence. Jak and Saf were silent. Jak looked at Saf. "You must have left the paper," accused Jak. "I told you it had been moved and you said it was probably the wind," riposted Saf.

"Dad found it and told you?" asked Jak. "We thought he knew something," said Saf.

I nodded. "And what about that?" I asked pointing at Nobbo and Cleggy's article.

"That JT is you, isn't it?" said young James. He giggled. "We didn't know how to measure it but Christophe beat me..." He stopped and blushed. He'd done a James.

"It's alright, Jamie," Andrew said, "We've all compared. I beat Roly but not Carlos."

"I haven't!" piped up Peter indignantly. He looked coy. "Only wondered when I've seen Daz and mine... ...and his." He pointed at his brother.

Nicolai must have been following this rather strange exchange very closely. He pointed at Jak and Saf. "Zhose boys zhey have more of zhat.... spunk, zhey say, I see more zhan him." He pointed at a rather aghast Andrew. "My Andrew is good. Most good. I am most good. But zhose boys..." He made some expansive Slavic gesture which could have only meant 'massive' and shook his head and we knew he was most impressed. I knew I had been after my inspection of the evidence. "But it is zhis family. Zhose marks." He shook his head as if it was all too much to take in and believe all at once.

I opened the folder out of which I had taken the documents and passed him three photographs. One of two adults, in shorts, each holding a very young nude baby. The second, a close-up of the four sets of legs, the birthmarks now much clearer and discernible. The third a smiling father with his young son on his knee. He and the boy of about four both in shorts, both with the mark. Dodo, my cousin, and his son, Pierre Armond, now twenty. Nicolai stared and smiled and the photos were passed round and turned over to check the names written on the back. Peter, sitting next to young James, giggled and pointed at the infants. Nicolai obviously thought this was bad manners.

"You point and laugh," he said, his English now so much more fluent, "Zhey are like the babies on the Holy Mother's knee...." He crossed himself, again in an expansive gesture. "...Zhey are not grown. Huhnh. When you are grown you must hope to be like them. Zhey are grown!" He held his hands up in another emphatic gesture, palms facing inwards a good seven and half inches apart. "Zhey are like zhis now. You grow, zhen you laugh!"

Peter was suitably abashed. "Sorry, Nick, I didn't mean to be rude." He looked at Jak and Saf. "You don't look like that now. That's why I laughed. I wish I was like you. I expect I'll be like Andy. That's OK though."

"Thank you for that back-handed compliment!" Andrew said, laughing. "But, seriously, Gramps, it's incredible. But I'm glad I've been accepted here." All the others nodded, none more than Nicolai.

Saf looked at the others. "We're all part of the family now," he turned to me. "Gramps, you've guessed about us and Nicolai and Andrew?" "And what we've done?" continued Jak.

I smiled. "I didn't guess I knew." I thought I'd fly a kite. "You must have worked like Trojans from the evidence I saw."

Jak looked astounded. Then he twigged. "Gramps, we thought they'd flushed!" Saf giggled. "They weren't Trojans, they were Ever Sure!" "Dad says nobody can hide anything from you," laughed Jak, relaxing.

"I'm glad you learned your lesson, though. It's better to be safe even with boys."

They explained to the others, or at least Saf did, about their loss of virginity and my warning and the gift. Jak finished the story by looking at Andrew and Nicolai. "....And we insisted because....," He paused. Saf continued, "...We like both..." "...We do it with both," concluded Jak. "But yours was special," said Saf. "It wasn't just....." said Jak, for the first time seeming hesitant. "....getting our rocks off!" said Saf slowly and smiled.

There was a rather stunned silence. Then the pair explained it was only partly true about the string of 'birds'. OK, they took the opportunity when it was offered, which for a pair of handsome lads like them was fairly regularly. But, and this was where the real confession came.

"Dad guessed," said Jak,"He found a letter from a friend..." "....He takes us over to Manchester most weekends in his BMW," explained Saf. "We met him in a club in Sheffield and he's got a pal who runs a bar...." said Jak. "...It's on the Ship Canal road.. We earn a bit of money as waiters..." went on Saf. "..The lads think it great the two of us. They don't know who they've ordered their drinks from...." said Jak with a laugh.

"Is that the gay area?" asked Andrew, "Roly's cousin works there. He's never been. Too scared. Will you take us? Me and Nicolai and Roly if he'd come?"

Oh, so Andrew knows about such places!

"What about us?" asked Peter.

It then had to be explained that he and young James were rather young and would have everyone arrested. In any case, Andrew was only just eighteen and there were still laws even though there was a vote going through. What was interesting was that both the youngsters knew all about condoms. Even which were recommended for gay sex!

Modern education!!

"That's why Dad said we should ask you to explain things, Gramps," said Jak. "He said he understood and said he had to make up his mind but it was made up for him...." said Saf. "...when he met Mum," they chorused together.

All the boys looked at me. "Me, too," I said softly, but confidently.

We left any more concerted discussion for that day. At least, I kept out of it. After dinner the twins sat with me and Nicolai in the drawing room, while Lachs talked with Andrew and Peter in the study and Sayed went off somewhere with young James.

The sleeping arrangements were supposed to be that Andrew and Nick were in Piers' room with the twins in the Horsebox and the youngsters in the room next to me. I retired to bed about eleven after all the boys had gone up about ten o'clock. All seemed quiet and I slept soundly.

As usual, I was down for breakfast first soon after seven and was chatting to Mrs Evans when all six came in together. Plates were laden and the food disappeared at the usual fantastic rate. All seemed very happy and at nine o'clock class in the drawing room started accompanied by me and young James. The twins, Sayed, Lachs and Ibrahim watched. I saw Sayed look at the twins and then at Ibrahim. Without them noticing, he put his hands as if on a steering wheel and Ibrahim smiled and nodded.

At the end of class the three dancers went off to shower and change and Ibrahim had a quick word with the twins. Their faces were a picture. Ibrahim took them with young James and me to the large garage. Although Sayed was a very wealthy man the cars parked there were not ostentatious. When he travelled around he preferred anonymity and smaller nondescript cars other than the large Mercedes limousines which his associates at the Embassy seemed to go in for. Ibrahim indicated a dark blue Vauxhall saloon.

"That is for you," he said, "It is four years old but has less than twenty thousand on the clock. It's taxed and insured. The boss says don't drive it too fast!"

The twins and Jamie were all over it. Two long-legged Newarks were all a-twitter. Oh yes, a younger, smaller Newark was equally voluble as well. Ibrahim and I stood back and grinned at each other. "They're not getting it for nothing," he whispered, "It's a down payment."

After a close inspection they rushed off to thank Sayed. We arrived in time to hear their sincere thanks for such a wonderful car. Sayed smiled impassively. Ibrahim nudged me. We waited.

"Good," said Sayed, when there was a sufficient gap, "I hope you like it." There was a vigorous nodding. "There is one small matter." Silence. "I need a substantial payment for it." The twins looked at each other and then stared at Sayed. "It's a gift, true, but, as soon as you graduate and before you do anything else I have a job for you. Then you will get a new car each to start with! Plus the cost of your time and effort!" The twins looked as if they might fall through the floor. "Khaled has said I need a computer system which is fully secure to deal with all my business. That's your first job in a year's time. Tariq says he has every confidence you can do it and Ibrahim and Walid will tell you what we need. It's all in the family so to speak."

Jak looked at Saf. Saf looked at Jak.

"You don't have to wait until we graduate," said Jak. "We've been working on such a system for our dissertations," said Saf. "We could have it up and running before we start back at Sheffield in September," said Jak. "We finish our jobs with the firms in a couple of weeks of this next term and could start then," said Saf. "Could we?" asked Jak, "We'll have about four months." "Which is eight months as we'll both be working on it," said the ever practical Saf. "The equipment will cost a bit, though," said Jak "And we have to write up our dissertations." "Which could be on how the system works - no secrets, though," said Saf with such a smile.

Sayed waved his hand. A signal that cost did not matter and start as soon as possible.

So that was arranged. In fact, the rest of the morning the boys spent on the 'phone arranging delivery of the most up-to-date state of the art equipment. Their bosses at the two firms would be suppliers so were quite happy if the boys disappeared sooner than later but they would like first call on any findings the twins liked to sell or lease.

I got the impression the boys were whizz-kids, not just nerds! At least that was what Andrew said in awed tones. I supposed there was a difference.

After lunch I was besieged by a delegation. All six. Would I discus things further? I said I would and was led up back to Piers' bedroom. We sat round the bed again.

Jak was first. "Gramps, got to tell you." "We four shared the bed last night," went on Saf.

"And we shared each other," interposed Andrew, "And we'll change over tonight to complete it. We had to do it here. It was so marvellous, eh, Jak?"

Jak nodded.

"That's not fair," said young Peter. "Me and Jamie haven't done that yet."

Nicolai held up a finger. "You and Jamie must not do it until ready." Wow, his English was improving, even the intonation and beginnings of words. "Saf was with me. We are real brothers now there and here." He wagged his finger at Peter. "You must wait. You will know when you are ready. You wank wiz him that is all, suck maybe..." He looked at me. "....Please, Gramps, I use words I know." He looked at young James this time. "...I tell you, you not fuck with him until you know you really love like brother. You make plenty stuff like him every day. You are healthy boy like him." He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Lots of stuff you need let go, one, two, three times a day. You do by your self or with other young Jimbo plenty times you say, wank, wank, wank, or that other boy in the boat?....,"

"Martin," murmured young James. I noticed young James coloured up a bit at the repeated 'wank'.

".....that Martin, you wank him and you fuck him if you like. You not do it with love. That will be practice. You get rid of stuff, that is all. I wank with boys in Russia, I suck too, no love!" His shook his head. "That Jak and that Saf they told you last night they get rid of stuff with other boys, wank, suck, fuck." He shook his head again. "You not fuck Jimbo. He is too good friend. You fuck him when you make him better friend and he fuck you like Peter. One day..." He wagged his finger again. "....You will know. You wait. You will be big like Andrew. Good then. He very good." He shook his head and grinned and looked at me, "I finish!" He reached over caught hold of Andrew and gave him a big kiss.

There was little more to discuss. Nicolai in his logical and succinct way had encapsulated all I would have said again. I think Peter and young James would at some date make a pact. I think that both Peter and young James would go on to provide more twigs for the family tree. I hoped either Jak or Saf, or both, would continue my own family line. But all that would be in the future. Now, the boys were in that time when their urges were paramount and needed immediate gratification. But then, in my experience this went on for many, many years after that initial bursting into flower in ones teens. But urgency reigned and I could see the way that Peter was looking at young James that two fountains of youth would be set flowing before tea-time. One last request was made before I left them all to their own devices.

"Gramps," said Saf, "Dad said you might let us read all the book sometime."

"Top shelf. Library. Leather bound. And don't stick the pages together like that Playgirl you two left under your pillow."

"Did Dad tell you that?" asked Jak, as Saf nearly fell off his chair bending double with laughter pointing accusingly at his brother.

I nodded and left them to it.

We spent two more days at Ulvescott. The book was removed and was lodged in Piers' room. Two by two they perused its pages from the disappearing acts that went on. I got the impression that the two youngsters were initiated into the next level from wanking each other from a hurried conversation I heard between Peter and his brother when the pair were about to start class on the second morning. Andrew nodded and Peter executed all the movements faultlessly as young James watched him and played his flute, I felt, for him. Someday, perhaps not long, that final pact would be made and sealed.

The twins said goodbye and drove off in their new car. They were happy. Their first assignment and they were going to succeed. We left soon after, all to reiterated invitations to come back soon.

Four boys over that short Easter holiday had made commitments and pledges. Two to a lifelong relationship. All four to lifelong deep friendships. Two young lads had watched, listened, understood and would seal their own friendship in due course.

Andrew at eighteen went back to the school for his last term. Nicolai stayed with us. He wasn't too comfortable with his new identity but knew that in the artistic world many people were best known by their pseudonyms. In May I took him along to the examination halls. It was the final examination day for one student in particular. As he came out he saw me standing in full doctoral robes preparatory for some later ceremony. He came over.

"Gary," I said, "Let me introduce the young man whose life you helped to save. This is Nicolai Filipovich." Very solemnly they shook hands then Nicolai gave Gary a real Russian bear hug. "Gary," I went on when he was released and the two stood looking and smiling at each other, "Congratulations on your degree. We had a preliminary exam board meeting this morning. I saw Jake hovering at the Porter's Lodge and he might let slip...." I smiled at him. "Hurry up, he's got news for you!"

Nicolai couldn't be left to rot at home. He assiduously did class and exercised at the boathouse and was a popular figure there with the boys as a couple were doing Russian for School Cert or A Level. We found a dance studio where he practised various roles under the guidance of a retired ballerina. He also taught a few youngsters and I was most impressed with his patience. I saw him with two small boys, eight or nine, who were really under his spell. They tried their hardest and he was so helpful and the three finished the lesson with the pair so much more in control. I complimented him and he said he remembered how he was at that age and the help he'd been given by his teacher who was a retired dancer from the Bolshoi. He said he liked teaching.

I had gone that day to collect him as I was taking him in the evening to dine at High Table. It was just out of term and there would be few of the dons there to want to know who this young upstart was. Actually, he was so acceptable. A couple of the old dons took quite a fancy to him I'm sure. They were rather well-known as partakers of fresh meat in their youth as another acerbic old don had said at one time. Jealous no doubt as he was as ugly as sin. Being catty myself!

I spent quite a time with Nick discussing things. His English improved by leaps and bounds and with young Jamie, Jimbo and the muscly young Martin he learned fast and was soon giving them back as good as he got. He said every day how much he missed his Andrew and his spirits were really raised when the twins arrived for an overnight stay while they harried Khaled about some aspect of a financial database. I think other things were raised that night, no holds barred.

Another happy event was the dinner in London to celebrate Tim's award in the first week of May. A highlight was the Parker Quartet. John and Myf with their son, Bryn and daughter, Laurel. They played the last movement of the Debussy String Quartet and then Tim joined them for the last movement of the Trout Quintet. It was there that Maureen suggested to Kanga that an illustrated version of a full version of 'Audacity' could be published now. If she did the illustrations would he consider it? I asked her if she had read the full version and she shook her head.

"No but the bits in that book of yours were probably among the juiciest. Right?"

I said probably but there were still laws about what might be considered pornography. She smiled and said there was dividing line between that and truly erotic art. She said she'd made a start. The fisherboy story with James and Allan. She would send me the sketches of Neptune and a couple she'd done of James and Allan together as well. Who would they be modelled on? She tapped the side of her nose. "You'll see," she said.

The sketches came within a week. There was no doubt who was Neptune the fisherboy. Me, Jacko! As I was as a teenager, with a lithe teenager's body and, in the action of casting the net, a hint of a nicely-formed teenage cock. All from a copy of that original sketch by her brother. The sketches of James and Allan were back views only. I felt they were a bit too much like Michelangelo's David and she said she'd had to do that as she had no teenage models available. But, those sketches were excellent. Solution. There would plenty of potential models around. No doubt eager to flaunt their well-honed bodies in all sorts of poses. I would have to count up.

I sent her a copy of the transcript of the whole book with a note saying I expect she'd get plenty of help if she came while the boys were at home. I got a 'phone call which started "Wow" and went on "What have I let myself in for?", with a continuation of "I'll do it", "Tim's got a couple of concerts in Cambridge at the beginning of July!". All settled. We would see.

At the end of May I went with Igor Petrovich Godunov for his audition with the Royal Ballet. He danced Spartacus and two other roles. Two days later the letter came. 'Nicholas Good' was accepted, attend for first rehearsal Monday, October the Third, 10 a.m. Three months probation then, if satisfactory, a contract would be offered. Nicolai wept for joy. He was going to succeed! His partner would already be there. They would be together. What more could he ask?

To be continued:...................

Note: The final Part of the story [Chapter 62] will come next. I have prepared a Dramatis Personae. It runs to about 12 pages and will be in ASCII-DOS text format.

If you would like a copy please e-mail me. Subject line: Aladdin, DramPer. I will try to reply as soon as possible. If anyone has loaded down the whole story it is over 5 megabytes!

You can see why it took a long time to write and to post to Nifty. My gratitude to Nifty for allowing me to share it with you. With all best wishes, Jo.