Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
by
Joel
Some of the Characters Appearing: [Year 2000] Mark Henry Foster 16 rising 17, 5ft 11in and still growing Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams 17 just about 18, 6ft and well-proportioned
At St Mark's College Cambridge Ivo Richie Carr 19 5ft 10in, chunky and cheeky with it Adam Benjamin Carr 19 ditto as his twin Charles (Clarissa) Fane-Stuart The 'Servant of the Chapel' and Footlights star David (Dingley) Dell The Augustus Pennefather organ scholar Oct 1998-Jul 2001 Albert Tomkins An authoritarian Head Porter with an elephantine memory Jason Knott An Assistant Porter with long antecedents Bryce (Babyballs) McArdle A sullen overlooked over-muscled Aussie rugger forward Mr Simon Finch-Hampton A two-faced History don [Pinch-Bum] 'Tory (Victoria) Machin A good friend of Ivo's and a true bluestocking
- Eating, Drinking and Revelations
We went downstairs about seven fifteen. Tris winked at me. "I'm eighteen next week so I'll be a proper man then, but I'll see if I can order drinks now. Gin and tonic?" I nodded and went and sat in one of the very comfortable armchairs.
Tris was soon back followed almost immediately by a young waiter carrying a tray with two gin and tonics on it. He placed them before us with a flourish and a smile. "Enjoy yourselves," he said.
Exactly on half past the three others appeared. Adam and Ivo were wearing matching roll-neck sweaters and very tight, well-cut dark cream chinos which really showed off their perfect figures. Charles was an absolute picture. His mane of hair was tied back in a dashing pony-tail held by a silver ring. He was wearing a high necked black jacket of a soft velvety material with matching trousers. His dark red shirt must have been silk and the neck of that was fastened with a silver clasp matching the pattern etched on the ring holding his hair. Both Tris and I were in our Sunday suits so were dowdy against the peacock. We stood and shook hands all round and I noticed that his rings were different, less gaudy but very classy. No sooner had we sat in a companionable small circle than the young waiter brought three more glasses and the attendant tonics.
As he set them down Charles looked up at him and raised his left hand and touched his thumb and first finger together. "As ever, dear Benjamin, perfection itself. And you are well, I trust?"
The young man smiled, "Of course, Charles." He looked across the table where he'd placed the drinks. "Hello, Ivo. Hello, Adam. Enjoy your evening everyone, George will be around soon with the menu and wine list."
Tris and I must have looked a bit puzzled as he left. Ivo laughed. "Benjy's one of our lot. He works here a couple of evenings a week to supplement his grant. It's getting very expensive these days to be a student. Luckily Dad says it's cheaper for us to be here than when we were at school so we've only had to deliver pizzas a couple of nights."
"Luckily Mother has only me to subsidise," said Charles, "But I suppose I could find some small task to perform if circumstances did become a little straitened."
Only Mother and Charles? I opened my big mouth. "But don't you have a sister?" I asked.
There was a moment of silence. "Oh, you mean Clarissa," Ivo said and looked at Charles. The side of his mouth twitched.
"All those lovely photos. You've noticed them?" Adam chimed in from the other side, "Clarissa's a real beauty, isn't she?"
His smile broadened as he looked from me to Charles.
"Alright you two, I'll put the poor dear out of his misery." Charles turned to Tris. "You observed the photographs as well?"
"Yes," said Tris, "I also assumed they were of your sister as there was such a family resemblance. Are they of your mother when she was younger, or a cousin?"
Charles looked from Ivo to Adam then held up both hands and pointed from one to the other. He chose Ivo. "You may tell."
Ivo smiled. He looked from Tris to me. "The truth is that Clarissa is Charles's other self. His alter ego. Clarissa is the greatest star the Footlights have ever experienced and there are many who do not know."
Both Tris and I were goggle-eyed. I think we'd both experienced female impersonators on the telly but nothing as stunning as in those photos.
"I hope my secret's safe with you? I prefer to remain a little incognito as there are so many of the rougher element who would take delight...." he said smiling and raising his hands. "...but I have my faithful band of admirers who take good care of me." He looked at me. "Your dear cousins penetrated my defences when I suffered an unseemly onslaught on my way back from locking the Chapel one night..."
"...Yes," said Adam quietly, "Some of the less-disciplined of the rugger crowd thought Charles was fair game for a spot of rough and tumble and chased him across the quad...."
"....I fell and these two young Galahads quelled the mob and helped me to my rooms. There I recovered while Ivo prepared that panacea for all ills. Adam saw the array and guessed my little secret because I had performed my humble impersonation of Helen of Troy for the Footlights Revue the week before."
"You brought the bloody house down," said Adam admiringly, "I have never laughed so much. And you had that big boatie in all that armour clanking around the stage as Paris."
Charles waved a deprecating hand at him. "Hush, dear, let me continue.
While we sipped our tea I unburdened my secret life. Nothing too sensational, just a meagre talent to amuse."
Adam grunted. "Sensational's the word!"
At that moment a waiter, I assumed was George, appeared with the menus and the wine list.
Charles took the wine list. "Perhaps, I'll tell you more later, but now to much more important things. You chose your courses and I will advise on suitable wines."
Both Tris and I chose the Game Terrine followed by Noisette of Lamb en Croute while the twins had the Potage and Venison. Charles stuck to fish, a salmon dish followed by fillets of plaice. He ordered the wines. I gasped. Four bottles to cover all the combinations. Not to worry, tomorrow was Saturday and, anyway, I needed to relax. A light Cotes de Rhone, a St Emilion, a Chablis and, for the twins and their venison au daube, a full- flavoured Shiraz. As the meal progressed and the wines flowed so tongues loosened. Charles was full of tales of his exploits as various reincarnations of film stars or historical beauties. His acting debut and realisation of his prowess came early on 'at my rather down- market and depressing school for the cast-off sons of the lower orders of the gentry and trade' as he put it. According to him he had been cast as a ravishing Viola in Twelfth Night at the age of fifteen followed by an equally alluring Portia the next year but he said his piece de resistance was the seductive Titania in A Midsummer-Night's Dream in his final year.
"That nasty Bottom, though! I had to subdue him as he got quite, quite carried away on our grassy knoll." He shook his head and waved his left hand, his fork speared with a morsel of his salmon. "Young Mountfitchett thought he was in Heaven I'm sure....." He lowered his voice. "....A total virgin as far as sweet young things of the opposite sex were concerned I'm quite certain, so he became more than aroused that dress rehearsal when he saw me for the first time in my diaphanous disguise. He positively reeked of adolescent hormones I'm sure, but he didn't attempt those actions again. I clutched and squeezed and he yelped and my pretty young acolytes had to minister to his hurt pride as best they could. He said words that sweet William never penned and dear Mr Jenks was mortified and had to be comforted by yet another sip from his ever-present hipflask!"
He ate the piece of salmon and was nodding to himself. I couldn't help watching him surreptitiously. He looked up.
"That reminds me, dearest ones," he said pointing to Ivo and Adam, "My next creation is Cleopatra and I need two adorable young Greeks as my faithful and lusty attendants and you will fit that bill so admirably. Mother has provided me with suitable tunics." He looked from one to the other. They remained silent. "A veritable Achilles and Patroclus, I am sure. A few more dark curls which I can provide....," The fork performed another revolution. "....all caught by a golden circlet and you will be perfect..."
"....But," began Adam.
The fork was waved again and the smile was fixed. "....But me no buts," he said, rivetting Adam with his stare, "I am fully aware of such connotations that the more scholarly might read into such a pairing but you will be ideal. We will rehearse in Dingley's abode on Tuesday evening at eight and we will be on stage on Thursday. If all goes well then the May Ball will be our next venture."
Adam looked at Ivo who nodded. That was fixed, too. A little sting for divulging who Clarissa was, perhaps.
Tris looked across at me and opened his eyes. He'd also realised that Charles Fane- Stuart was not to be trifled with.
"Now dears," said Charles, "No more about me." He looked from me to Tris. "Tell me about yourselves."
What could be said about two rather ordinary English schoolboys? Tris explained we lived next door to each other and had known each other for a very long time, that we went to the same school and spent a lot of time together.
Adam and Ivo kept quiet but waited. Tris looked at me and I nodded. "In fact, Mark and I are together," said Tris, "We intend to be together always."
Charles looked from Tris to me. "I knew that as soon as I met you both." The beautiful smile appeared, "May you always be happy."
"Amen to that," said Ivo and raised his glass. Adam sitting next to me put down his knife and held my arm. "I second that," he said.
Over the main course Ivo and Adam led the conversation. I learned snippets about life in College, the friendly enmities between the boaties and the rugger-buggers and the harassment of those seen to be too serious, or too work driven. I was rather amazed when I found that Charles was reading Philosophy, but then how would I judge someone else's intellectual powers? Adam had his History and Ivo was reading Modern Languages, French and Spanish. I knew this from their interests of old. Tris and his intended Law was a family thing. Would I be any good at Maths? I suppose we would learn and develop our own strengths. I had my music too. That set me wondering again. What had Charles called himself? Servant of the Chapel?
In one of the lulls, after Adam had been chiding Ivo over some misplaced kick for touch in their last match as an example of his lack of attention to fine detail, I looked across at Charles.
"You said you're the Servant of the Chapel. What did you mean?"
"My dear, not me again surely?"
"You haven't said anything for at least five minutes," said Ivo, wrinkling his nose.
"Touche, sweet one," said Charles, "Thank you for timing me." He looked at me. "Take no notice of our banter. I will continue after that interruption!"
Ivo rolled his eyes to the ceiling and Adam chuckled.
"To begin at the beginning, I hold a delightful post instituted in 1530, even before naughty Henry started his rampages against the Vicar of Rome and cut off all those heads." He parted a succulent looking piece of fillet of plaice and as if illustrating his point sliced it in half. "As far I know I am the hundred and fiftieth holder of the illustrious position ever held by those unblemished by the sins of avarice, envy or sloth according to the later Statute of 1648. I have no idea what happened to the other four sins, I must assume they fell by the wayside over the years."
"Especially lust," said Adam, "Pinch-Bum said it was the major force which kept the coffers full in the early days of the College."
We must have stared in wonderment.
"Yes," said Adam, "All the monasteries were filled with those younger sons who couldn't aspire to inheriting their father's riches and lots came here to be instructed in law, theology, medicine and so on and every time their inclinations got the better of them and they were caught in the arms of the ladies of the town, or even pleasuring themselves, they were fined. Because they had no money their fathers were sent the bill and rather than getting the rapscallions home again they paid up. He said the College archives have plenty of records, even saying where and what the lads were doing." He looked at Ivo. "Dad wouldn't be pleased with you, dear brother, eh?"
"Speak for yourself! Anyway, it would be you in the monastery, you're the youngest and your habits don't bear looking at!"
"Hush, dears," said Charles wagging his fork, "Boys will be boys." He looked over at me. "All I do is keep the Chapel and its activities ticking over with the help of that assistant Porter, naughty young Knott." He chewed another morsel and shook his patrician head. "That boy!"
"Anyway," he continued having devoured all on his plate, "When Henry got rid of all the monasteries we were flooded by the dispossessed and there were plenty who didn't like the idea of changing their religious allegiance. Lots went to the continent but others stayed here hoping they wouldn't be denounced." He looked at Tris. "You know what Priests' Holes are?" Tris nodded and had a look of interest on his face. Adam gave a more than audible snigger. Charles looked at him scathingly. "My dears, take no notice of him," he shook his head, "He may aspire to intellectual pursuits of the highest order but his mind remains with that of the common herd here somewhere between the rugger touch-line and the sweat-stained bottom of the Fifth Eight's boat, and there's nothing lower than that!"
"Never heard it put so well," said Ivo, "Bravo!" Adam just grinned.
Charles bowed his head and anything further was interrupted by George who wheeled up two trolleys. One with a tempting array of sweets and puddings and the other with an extensive selection of cheeses.
Charles was not to be outdone. "My dear George I believe you have a delightful Sauternes you recommended when Mother was staying here and that Graham's '68 Vintage for the cheese."
George bowed, turned and snapped his fingers. Benjamin took orders and as we were all choosing the sweets we wanted first he returned bearing two bottles. I'd never had Sauternes before and that silky sweetness complimented the creme caramel I had chosen to perfection. But it was the heady fruitiness of that vintage port which completed the meal for me with those snippets of cheese I selected. We took our glasses back to the comfy circle of chairs and sipped our port and had coffee as well. An evening to remember.
"You don't have to return home early tomorrow," Charles said to Tris. "Come across to the College in the morning and I'll show you some of our subterranean treasures. They say the old place is well and truly haunted and I wouldn't be surprised." He turned to me. "Perhaps you would like to play under less restrictive conditions."
So, we agreed. Coffee at ten in his rooms then a conducted tour and I would finish up the morning with a farewell burst on the organ.
It was near enough eleven o'clock when we bid goodnight to the trio as they left. Charles's bill for the wine must have exceeded the total cost of the food itself but he produced a Gold Card and that was that. We thanked him profusely but all he said was that such evenings should be repeated regularly and he had enjoyed himself immensely.
"Come along, my dears," he said to Ivo and Adam as we said goodnight in the lobby, "Let us depart and I will divulge some of the little secrets for our performance next week." He turned to Tris and me. "Farewell, until tomorrow, dear souls."
We didn't say anything to each other until we got to our room. Going up I had decided I was pleasantly full and although having had the best part of a bottle of wine I was just in a very mellow mood. As Charles had said, it was such an evening which I would love to repeat. If this was all part of growing-up I couldn't get enough of it. But then, it had all been subsidised. Tris's dad had footed the bill for the hotel and the meals and Charles had forked out goodness knows how much for all the wine. Tris was in a thoughtful mood as well because as we prepared for bed and set out all our stuff ready for packing in the morning he was ruminating on many things.
"That Charles," he began as he came out of the bathroom, "I've never met anyone like him." There was a pause. "Do you think.....?"
I turned towards him having just put a couple of shirts I hadn't worn carefully at the bottom of my bag. "....Is he like us? You mean gay?"
"Um," was the monosyllabic response. Tris was silent again for a few moments. "But we don't act like that, do we? Can anyone tell if we are?"
"I think the act's put on a bit," I said, "In fact, I think it's his way of showing the world he doesn't care what anyone else thinks."
Tris hadn't witnessed the complete scene between Bryce and Charles, and Charles from his reaction to Ivo's question wasn't keen to share it. But, I had to tell Tris what I'd seen and heard. It was Charles' reaction which had convinced me he wasn't some 'prancing ninny' as I'd heard one of the Sixth Formers describe a well-known television personality. "You didn't hear what that big bloke said this morning, you know, the one who came out when we were waiting for Charles to lock his door?"
I then told Tris the whole little episode and how Charles had stood his ground.
"Yes, but I can't make him out. He's got Ivo and Adam twisted round his little finger and I wouldn't think they'd have anything to do with him if they didn't like and care for him.... ....You don't think they're...?"
I shook my head. Adam had told me at Christmas both he and Ivo had caught up for lost time the second week of joining the College and had been 'round the houses more than a couple of times' since. In fact Adam said he'd beaten Ivo as he'd fucked three different girls from either their or other Colleges at parties and Ivo had only experienced two, but what they were getting was regular. I told Tris this and he said he wasn't surprised but... ...he'd just wondered.
It was my turn in the bathroom and I looked at myself, standing in the nude, in the long mirror. I didn't think people would immediately assume I was gay, nor that Tris was, either. We were accepted at school. Only once, Tris said, was any remark made in the changing-room when he was going into the showers. Some wag had said he was glad he'd brought liquid soap in case he dropped a bar in the shower. Tris said that Chris Thomas, their tight-head prop, had then deliberately got under the same shower-head with him and said there were some stupid fools around. As far as I was concerned I was quite oblivious to any of the common homophobic remarks which seemed to be standard when adolescent males were together. I knew they weren't directed at me in particular, just at anyone in range, probably to help that person to establish in public he was alright, OK. I'd read in a book on adolescence I'd bought in a charity shop that the majority of teen-age boys had experienced some form of homosexual behaviour so I could but assume those lads who made remarks were feeling a bit of guilt and had to work it out on someone else. Yes, we were all 'wankers' or 'tossers' but few seemed to admit it though they used those words to describe everyone else and I suppose Tris and I came into the categories of 'arse-bandits', 'poufs' and 'benders' but what we did together seemed no different to us than the largely imagined, I assumed, contortions and conjunctions of those more-or-less heterosexual defamers.
I smiled. I was glad I was me. I expect I would suffer sometimes but Dr Al-Hamed had guessed from my reaction to that chord and he was accepting. I think Professor Tanner knew as well. His smile was enough for me to know there was no condemnation. Ivo and Adam accepted us and they were super-macho, even if I, Tris and their schoolmates had been part of their teen-age same-sex experiences. I didn't doubt that if they were tempted they wouldn't indulge again. Perhaps more unwillingly now since they had tasted other fruits on the vine. But from what I'd read in novels and newspapers, when there was no female company then the males took whatever was on offer. I was still waxing poetic towards myself, thinking great thoughts and staring at myself when Tris put an arm round me.
"Come on Narcissus," he said kissing my shoulder, "I need you in bed."
He led me to his bed this night.
"I want you to sit and face me," he said, "Sit across my legs. I need to look at you. I want to look into your eyes and I want to tell you how much I love you, but I won't be speaking."
We arranged ourselves and I sat as instructed. We placed one hand on the other's shoulder to steady ourselves. We stared into each other's eyes and our hands explored each other's upper body. Caressing and stroking our chests. Just touching our nipples and circling them. We both shivered as we did that simultaneously and smiled at each other. Our gaze was still fixed as we explored each other's pecs, then our ribs and onto our firm, if full, stomachs. I knew my prick was at full attention now but I didn't break my concentration on Tris's blue eyes to inspect his condition. I felt the soft hair which trailed down from his navel and he stroked my own dense black trail. It was then I was aware of his aroused state as my wrist touched the end of his hard erect tool.
"Wait," he said softly, "I want to touch your lips with mine."
We slowly drew our torsos nearer, still firmly rooted as we had started, until our lips met. I closed my eyes as his mouth opened and my tongue touched his. I always found this to be so sensuous and I could feel that familiar urge begin deep in the root of my shaft. Our tongues gently duelled and I was rotating my head to get as much pleasure from those muscular movements. We drew apart slightly and Tris whispered, "Just hold me. I'll come with you just holding me, I know."
Still holding on to each other's shoulder our right hands circled each other's iron-hard rods. I couldn't stop myself. I pulled down on his velvet-skinned shaft. I pulled down harder and harder so that his foreskin was stretched down further and further. He knew what I was doing as he repeated the action on me. Strong young right hands forced the other's skin so taut, both experiencing the most exquisite pain which was so, so desirable and so, so intense at the same time. Our left hands drew our shoulders closer again and we kissed and our tongues duelled more vehemently as I pulled down about four more times even more sharply on that thick young weapon. Tris almost convulsed as spurt after spurt of his priceless boycream jetted up, hitting both of us under the chin and cascading down our necks and chests. Not to be outdone, as soon as he'd recovered, my cock was almost brutally jerked down and up no more than six or eight times. I stopped myself screaming out by mashing my lips to his and pressing my chin against him. The pain was so exquisite, so sensual, so exhilarating, so overwhelming. My flood was like nothing I'd experienced before, too. I held onto his shoulders with both hands as my prick jerked and thrashed of it's own accord in his grip. New streams of warm, pearly boycream joined the others already there as I pumped out in great jets all that was stored. Slowly we bent sideways and straightened out, torso to torso held tight by our encircling arms. We fell asleep like that and slept for several hours until, twitching and shivering we awoke, now sticky with our almost dried fluids.
Tris reached out for a duvet and pulled it across us. He kissed me softly on the lips.
"A night to remember..." he murmured as we fell asleep again, side by side, hands lightly clasped.
Tris woke first and must have been to the bathroom and washed some of the residue away when he came and woke me with a shower of butterfly kisses on my cheek.
"I won't and can't say how beautiful that was last night. I shall just remember those feelings we must both have had."
"We.....," I murmured half awake but still bathed in that after-glow of some immense experience even after all those hours past. "We....," I repeated, "Oh, Tris, it was both of us... ...so together."
I put my arms round him and felt so emotional I wept. "I know how you feel," he whispered in my ear as he held me to him, "I hope we'll have plenty of other times like that. The last two nights have truly taught me about true, deep love. Let's make a pact. If either of us is angry or upset about something that's quite trivial underneath let's just remember these two nights as part of the real and proper start to our relationship. I feel we're different even after just these two days. I think we've both grown up a great deal more.... ....Do you agree?"
I stroked his back. Yes, we'd already experienced many, many occasions when we had raised each other to pinnacles of shared joy, but I think the episodes of the past two days were equal to that day we first consummated our love for each other. Yes, that afternoon and these past two nights were turning points and grounding-points for our relationship. I knew we had the means to give each other the greatest pleasure, but I also knew life was more than that. We needed to support each other. I expect we would have our sadnesses and upsets but I could see that Tris would be a rock. I hoped I could be the same for him.
"Tris, these last two days have been so unreal but so rewarding. Whatever happens in the future I want to be with you, I want to be yours and I want you to be mine." I felt for his hand and gripped it. "The pact was sealed last night as we slept together but just to make sure I hold your hand and swear my love."
"Let's not get too romantic," he said, but gripped my hand in response "I'm sure it won't all be a bed of roses. I know Mum and Dad have their rows and disagreements over things and I expect your Mum and Dad are the same."
I nodded. I remembered a monumental scene a couple of years ago which scared me stiff. Whatever had sparked it off I never knew but the atmosphere in the house was electric for a couple of days. I knew Mum had a fiery temper underneath, she wasn't always sweetness and light with us boys if we transgressed her quite strict rules. Dad always said it was her Italian temperament and that was what attracted him to her. Things cooled later that week and Frankie and I were dumped next door while they went off for a weekend somewhere. I did hear Dad say sometime later that the weekend was good but proved rather expensive as he'd had to tell the orchestra manager he would be absent for a couple of concerts and they'd had to hire a deputy.
We showered and made ourselves presentable again. Tris's Dad's expensive splash- on masked any lingering sexual aromas and we remembered to rumple my bed to make it look slept-in. We might return someday and we didn't want knowing looks from the chambermaid or the receptionist who Tris said probably kept a black book of strange guests.
I'd packed long before him and was reading another few pages of the Stephen Saylor book.. I held it up when he looked across inquisitively. "Rubicon," I said, "First page it says about someone 'built like a Greek statue and just as thick'. Better tell Ivo and Adam that! They're thick...," I grinned at Tris. "....in the right places, though."
Tris grinned and put his first finger and thumb together and made a wide circle which he jerked up and down. "'I remember them well'," he warbled to the well-known tune, " 'Those favourite things'!" He looked at me and chuckled. "Pity we can't be here next week to see them perform. I wonder what they'll have to do?"
"And what will Charles do as Cleopatra?"
We both shook our heads in wonderment and went down to breakfast.
- Subterranean Explorations
The small door was open when we arrived at the College having lugged our bags across Jesus Green and round to the entrance. Old Albert was in command with a lad of about Tris's age hovering behind him.
"Mr Price-Williams, Mr Foster," he greeted us as we entered the Lodge. "I hope the Arundel was to your liking." He turned to the lad behind him who was studiously ignoring us. "Mr Knott, you will conduct these gentlemen to Mr Fane-Stuart's set and do not dawdle on the way back."
Mr Knott? Formality. The lad came round the desk. He, too, was as smartly dressed as his boss. He picked up a soft round hat and put it on.
"Gentlemen," he said in a most pleasant voice, "Please follow me."
As we followed, clutching our bags, I looked carefully at his figure. Yes, Charles had been right, a neat, trim figure was set off by a nicely shaped rounded posterior. I glanced at Tris who pursed his lips. He'd noticed as well. Perhaps Charles should think of doing Boadicea with a naked, woad-painted Jason as an attendant? Oh, yes, I remembered. Jason. My classical knowledge was limited but Jason and.... ..I remembered, Jason and the Argonauts. That knowledge was from a film seen on television - all hunky, tanned and muscled young men who'd given me several images for my nightly fantasies. Yes, Jason in a Golden Fleece with, what was her name? Began with M? Oh, Medea. I could see myself as the instigator of several more costume dramas, or un-costumed as far as the young males were concerned.
By this time we had crossed the quad keeping to the flag-stoned paths, careful not to traverse the neat lawns with their warning notices about being only for senior members of the college, and were ushered into the dark passageway. Charles' door was ajar and 'naughty young Knott', as I couldn't help labelling him, rapped sharply on it.
"Come in, my dears, we are all assembled," Charles called out.
Young Mr Knott stood back as Tris and I entered then followed us in. Adam and Ivo were already there, seated side by side on a settee, looking suitably prim and proper. I also noticed, draped across the backs of two upright dining chairs, two short, cream-coloured, pleated Greek tunics.
"Ah, we are so glad to see you, welcome, and do take a seat." He waved his be- ringed hands and indicated two unoccupied deep, easy chairs. "Jason, dear, you may remove your hat and the coffee is ready to be served. Worry not about dear Albert, he has other helpers at his beck and call and you do have to carry out the Servant's wishes at times."
Jason disappeared off through a scarlet draped door.
"And did you sleep well?" Charles had turned his attention to us. I saw the amused glance that Adam shot Ivo.
"Like two little logs," said Tris, I felt not with too felicitous a choice of simile. The look Ivo gave Adam was priceless. Like Charles and 'naughty young Knott', I would have to reprimand them all severely.
"Now to business," said Charles as Jason appeared bearing a tray with elegant mugs of steaming coffee. "Please help yourselves. Milk, cream, sugar and young Jason brought me in some of those nice Marks and Spencer biscuits he's particularly fond of."
'Young Jason' was not fazed a bit and came round and delivered his wares with aplomb. When he'd finished Charles pointed to another chair and Jason sat with his own coffee and a stack of biscuits.
"Now lovely ones, we're to do a little exploring. The Chapel is renowned for having three secret passages which were forgotten for centuries until someone remembered at the beginning of the last War and they became shelters and the stained glass and precious books were stored there too."
I saw Adam nodding. "Pinch-Bum says there are probably more as the Papists were so persecuted they needed plenty of hiding places to continue their nefarious practices. He says the Chapel and the crypt could be opened up to the outside and we could let it out as a disco and night club and earn a bit of needed income for the College."
Charles positively bristled. "I will not have that man's name mentioned in here and you will not wind me up by repeating his most unnecessary opinions."
Adam smiled. "That's his view. He's entitled to it but, like you, I don't agree."
Charles smiled too. "But his dangerous talk only serves to undermine confidence. I may only be here one more year as Servant of the Chapel. You have two more years, and Tristan and dear Mark will see out four years between them, but he is a Fellow of the College and under the Statutes has tenure for life. Who knows what seeds he can sow and what may flourish from them in years to come? He spells danger in my book!"
"That's for me, too," came the totally unexpected addition from Jason. All eyes were on him now. "Yes, my family have worked for this place we know for over two hundred years. My great- grandmother was your Grandad's bed-maker Mr Foster. I've seen her lists and I looked them up last night after what Mr Tomkins told me yesterday. And he said he was your Grandad, too, Mr Ivo and Mr Adam." They nodded agreement. "Yes, Mr George Foster, Stair F, Room 6. That's this stair and Mr McArdle has that room now."
"Oh, Christ Almighty!" said Ivo and clapped his hand over his mouth. "Sorry, but that's Babyballs Bryce in our Grandad's room. Are you sure?"
Jason nodded. "Yes, and when Mr Pennefather was a student here in 1891 he was in the same room because that's in my..." He paused and mouthed silently, then smiled, "....my Great-greatgrandmother's book. She fell pregnant by a student when she was sixteen and never said who the father was, but she wasn't ever hard-up so my Gran says."
"Bloody Babyballs," said Adam, "I'll chop what he's got left off if he does anything to that room." He looked at his brother. "At least we've got the double opposite. I've never been in that room but when he opens the door it stinks of horse-rub and sweat."
Jason piped up again. "Mr McArdle won't allow anyone in. He said if I went near the place he'd kick the living shit out of my little Pom arse. Sorry, sirs, but that was exactly what he said and Mr Tomkins said I was to keep out of his way." He picked up another biscuit and popped it into his mouth.
I thought it was a nice little Pom arse and the look on Tris's face told me he thought so, too. I waited for the next installment.
"Jason dear, you do amaze me, you had not informed me of that little interchange," said Charles, "I forgive you this time but usually you are a positive fount of lovely knowledge. I haven't forgotten when you told me your great-grandfather knew where the key of that locked cupboard in the Chapel was because there was a note about it in his diary which you'd found. He was the helper to the Servant of the Chapel at the time, the Honourable Luke Ponsonby, and the Honourable Luke had hidden the key behind the tablet commemorating his clerical ancestor who was burnt at the stake for disobeying Bloody Mary. We found two lovely chalices in the cupboard..."
"...and two dirty books....."
"Jason, dearest, do not speak ill of the dead, though I do admit he came to rather a sticky end in a remand cell in Pentonville. He had been found with two sailors, not dancing the horn-pipe, in Hyde Park the night before, and nobody checked..." He held up both hands. "...And the poor dear bled to death from whatever had been inserted... ...Jason, you have heard nothing! Understand?" He looked from one to the other of the rest of us. "And what would happen if you-know-who discovered such things and broadcast them far and wide!"
I was curious. "But how do you know?"
Charles put his index finger by the side of his nose. "The Servant of the Chapel is privy to many secrets past and present, dearest one." He smiled. "To tell the truth, successive Servants have kept a running record of events. We have most but one or two of the volumes are missing even though they have been stored in a safe place." The finger was raised again. "Ask not, precious ones, my lips are sealed, and those of the Dean and Chaplain are too."
There was silence as we all digested this. I thought through all we'd been told. That long family connection. Charles as the last, so far, in a long line of Servants of the Chapel. Mr Pennefather, coming here as a student in 1891 and staying on as a Fellow and dying in 1937. Time did not seem to be so important in an institution such as this. It seemed the notion of tradition was a key factor and someone like Mr Finch-Hampton could upset things - upset the apple-cart as it were.
Charles was the first to speak again. "Well, dearest ones, let us proceed on our explorations." Jason stood and started to collect the now-empty mugs. "Jason dear, you may leave those for now. I shall need your assistance as usual. You know where the two torches are. I renewed the batteries yesterday so we won't have that rather delicate incident again when I had to lead you out of that small room." He waved his hands again. "The poor mite is a wee bit claustrophobic, aren't you my sweet one?" As Jason was as tall as Ivo and Adam I wouldn't have called him a 'mite' but there! Charles clapped his hands. "We are ready? Follow me."
We all stood and looked at each other expectantly. Charles unhooked a bunch of large keys from a very elaborate fixture on the wall by the door. "Come!" he beckoned.
He and Jason led the way along the side path towards the Chapel. One of the large keys was used to unlock a small door in a side porch. This was carefully locked behind us as we filed through. Charles had flicked a switch and very dim lights came on.
Towards the end of the passageway we were in were three identical ancient wooden doors. Above the first was 'Chapel', the second had 'Vestry' but there was nothing above the third. This one he unlocked and flicked another switch.
"Follow me down," he said, "Mind as the steps are old and rather narrow but there is light. These are the cellars and crypt which were used during the War."
He led the way again and the Indian file followed him down. I was last but one. Jason followed me. "Mr Tomkins says your Grandad was a good lad. I didn't know about Ivo and Adam being his grandsons, too, but Mr Tomkins says he should have known as you all have the same ears. Sorry, but you know what I mean. You'll like it here, I do."
By this time we'd reached the bottom of the stairs. Again a row of doors and one larger than the rest.
"We will look in the crypt first. It's a bit of a muddle as all the unwanted things are stored here."
He opened the large door and another switch was flicked. A long low vaulted room with stone pillars was revealed. Around the room were piles of what looked like junk to me. There were old bed-frames, ancient chairs and tables, some large candlesticks, some small statues turned to face the wall, a row of pictures in ornate frames, numerous empty frames and a host of cardboard and wooden boxes filled with old books.
"The debris of centuries, my dears," he said. "But the smaller rooms are of greater interest at this moment. They were the ones the priests used to hide from their pursuers after Henry did his nasties and Elizabeth and Mary were creating mayhem. I'm sure they were also used as cells before that for naughty monks and students."
"How do you know?" queried Adam, "The College history only says about the Priests' Holes down here."
Charles put a finger to his lips. "That history was written by Dr Smart who belied his name and stored his wine down here rather than in the cellars under the buttery. He died down here in 1936 after testing his latest consignment of French wines rather too enthusiastically. He was not discovered for three weeks as he often did not emerge from his rooms for days except to pass water on the stairway. All that, my dears, is not in the College history."
I think we all shivered imagining the comatose then dead don lying amid his bottles. Adam was still curious.
"But how....?"
Charles silenced him again with a raised finger to his lips. "...dear Jason found that in his great-grandfather's diary of the time. We do not talk about it."
"But," said a rather exasperated Adam, "That's important. It's history. It should be published."
"And let you-know-who harry young Jason and his family to get his sticky fingers on the records." Charles shook his head. "Perhaps in all good time we might have kindlier eyes around. Who knows, in thirty years, or even fifty years, such time is scarcely important in the continuous life here."
I think that even silenced Adam but I heard a subdued muttering.
We went back into the passage-way again and he unlocked one of the smaller rooms.
"Now, just imagine the poor priest shut away not knowing who might come down those stairs. Only Father Ponsonby was denounced and caught and only as he went to minister to a poor woman who had never renounced her Faith. He was burnt at the stake at the crossroads outside the city. They did not dare to do it within the boundary walls. He was a kinsman of the poor Ponsonby so many years later. As I said, time here is not of the essence."
We crowded into the cramped empty room where there was one small bulb strung rather precariously from a hook in the low ceiling.
"Let me show you who has been in here." He took a torch from Jason and shone it at an angle against the wall. "We think that P is Ponsonby's own incising or, more likely, by someone who carved it there after he died." An elaborately carved letter was quite visible in the stone. "Some others must have had only a metal stylus or a dagger point. Not so prominent but of interest." There were a number of scratched names and a few dates. I saw 1616 with almost delicate end curves to the two sixes. I glanced at Jason. He looked a bit uncomfortable. I felt a bit claustrophobic too. "This one..," Charles continued, pointing down, "...was fined and locked up here for 'whoring on the town' as the College history does say. He still became a bishop, though."
"Hope for you, yet," whispered Ivo who I saw prodded Adam in the back.
"Let's move on and I will show you our greatest prize." Charles looked at Jason. "You had better sit in the crypt, dear boy, give Ivo your other torch." A rather relieved looking Jason perched on a wooden box and smiled wanly while we went to another door.
The room this opened onto was even smaller than the previous one. Probably six feet by eight feet at the most. "This one was used for all the naughty students who couldn't afford to pay for the bigger rooms when they were locked up. See, they soon repented." He shone the torch at an angle again and I saw the word 'Peccavi' scratched several times with an initial or a date by the side. These were old. 1458 was one I saw. "But this is my find," said Charles with a chuckle, squatting and pointing. "We knew there were initials here, J followed by K and the date 1460. I went to the College library and looked at the records around those years. Luckily some old don in the 1800's had started to decipher those ancient parchments and there it was. A student came here when he was fourteen in 1458 and remained for six years until he went on to Sempringham Abbey as far as we know. He was the youngest son of a small landholder, a yeoman in the records, out Thorney way. There was only one J K here at that time and he was accused of a sin of the flesh and imprisoned here for a week and father was sent a bill for four pence. A sum not to be sneezed at in those days." He straightened up and smiled. "Johannes Knottus in the records."
"Yes," a voice came from the door. Young Jason had recovered somewhat.
"Mr Charles says it must be a relation of mine. We did come from Thorney way."
Adam had taken the torch from Ivo and was prone on the floor directing the beam here and there over the initials. "Yes, it's J K right enough but there's something else looks like 'sui sal'" He spelled out the letters.
Charles was nodding. "Sins of the flesh it said. We saw those words, too. I think that may be the dear lad's rather poor Latin. Sui salax. Self lustfulness."
Adam chuckled loudly. "It certainly was! Did you see the rest?"
Charles shook his head and dropped to his knees while Adam shone his torch below the inscription.
"You said a week? I think it was eight days, with not quite a full day either end."
"What do you mean," asked Ivo as the rest of us knelt and peered.
"Look," said Adam pointing, "There are eight rows of tiny scratches. Two, then three, another three, then four, two more threes, then one and last there's two again." He rolled and sat up. "You say he was sixteen?" Charles said 'Yes'. "Typical sixteen-year old I would say, begging your pardons. I think this is his record of his self-lustfulness while locked in the dark down here." He shook his head. "Boys must have always been the same and I don't blame him." He looked up at us surrounding him. "Poor little bugger, locked up here with nothing else to do. I'd be the same I confess."
"Yeah, me too," said Ivo, who had taught me to wank, "Poor little sod. And I bet it was only once on the Sunday 'cause that'ld be even more sinful."
We all turned and looked at Jason who began laughing out loud. "Bloody little wanker! ...Oops, sorry, but it's funny." He looked at Charles and grinned.
"I knew what you meant when you told me he was in here for sins of the flesh. Wait 'til I tell my brother this, though! I'll tell Dad to lock him in the landing cupboard!"
"I hope you aren't accusing young Jonathan of the sins of his kinsman, dear boy?" said Charles.
"He's sixteen, and that's his name, too, so what do you think?" was the quick reply from a red-faced giggling Jason.
By this time we were all laughing. But what a find!
Adam stood up first. "Charles, so nobody's noticed that before?"
Charles looked up at him. "No, dearest thing, and I think we ought to keep it to ourselves for the moment."
"You don't like Pinch-Bum, do you? And you're scared in case he gets hold of this and publishes it and makes fun of it?"
"Precious, you are so right! Now help me up, I think we have seen enough of this for now. It's dear Mark's turn now."
"You'll let me photograph it though?" asked Adam.
"For you, my hunk, anything. But...," he held a finger against Adam's chest, "...No further."
We filed out of the room into the passageway and Charles carefully extinguished all the lights. Up the stairs he unlocked the door marked 'Chapel' and Tris and I went up to the organ loft. I had my small bag with me in which I'd put a couple of pieces. Nothing too long, nothing too tedious. Bach's Chorale prelude, 'By the Waters of Babylon' and something to show off the organ, Boellmann's 'Menuet Gothique'. Tris smiled when he saw the second piece. "I like that."
When I'd finished and we went down again into the Chapel, Charles was so effusive. "My dear, I can't tell you how much I enjoyed that." He turned to a now less formal Jason who was grinning and chatting to Adam. A be-ringed finger was held up in admonition. "Now, naughty young Knott, we know where to put you when you are fractious! Term starts on Thursday and I want the brass cleaned before then and I don't have to warn you..." Suitably chastened naughty young Knott led us along the quad where more coffee was soon ready. Adam said we could have a quick lunch in Hall as he'd asked before we met up this morning. Charles declined. So Tris and I collected our bags and thanked him for his hospitality and especially for the largesse of the previous evening.
"That was nothing sweet ones, I hope we shall continue these friendly meetings at least when you are here next year, Tristan Price-Williams." He eyed my lovely friend up and down. "You will be an asset to our College and I am sure to our tragical mirths!" He shook my hand. "You and your boon companion will live long and happily I am sure.
I wish you well." He held my hand up and lightly kissed my finger-tips. With someone else I would have felt embarrassed, but not with Charles.
Ivo and Adam took us up to their third floor room, No 5. Ivo pointed to the door opposite. The number 6 was a bit faded. So that had been Grandad's room, before that in the 1890's Augustus's, and now occupied by Babyballs Bryce. Adam quickly ushered Tris and me into their set. They explained it was one of only two doubles in the college and they were usually reserved for brothers and they had been lucky to get it. In fact, instead of moving out of College into a College house next year they were being allowed to stay. "Being in the choir and Ivo being elected Secretary of the rugger club for next year as well helped," explained Adam.
Their set was almost as spacious as Dingley's on the ground floor. Nicely, if sparsely furnished with two single beds in the bedroom. We giggled as there was a wire strung across the room dividing it and there was a curtain which could be pulled across.
"That's useful when he's pleasuring himself ," said Adam, "I don't have to watch. And you should see the scratches on the wall by his bedhead!"
"Huh!" said Ivo, "And who tried to hide that bird your side that Friday night when I was trying to sleep as we had that away game next day? He's bloody insatiable. But she said it was warmer by the fire so he humped her in the other room and she kept squealing for more. I nearly offered to help but her brother's one of the boaties and I didn't want to get roughed up if he found out what that evil article was doing to his sister."
"Jealousy, jealousy, dear brother. Do I detect the little green eye? Anyway I never saw you that next Saturday night at all and had to make excuses to Matt who was in charge of the choir Sunday morning. Bloody hell, you could hardly stagger when you got back Sunday evening. 'Tory had you in balls and all, I'm sure!"
"I got kicked and she gave me a massage...."
The two brothers were giving each other vigorous V-signs and wanking signs while Tris and I were creased with laughter.
Ivo turned to us. "It's all part of College life....." He looked at Tris. "....But you'd better remain faithful or his nasty cousins will want to know why!"
Tris covered his face with his hands. "I suppose I'd better promise."
"You'd better," I said dragging down his hands and hugging him while planting a kiss on his full red lips.
It was Ivo and Adam's turn to laugh. "Put him down, Fido," said Ivo. He came over and put his arm round us. "You'd better book a double the next year if he doesn't get the Pennefather, but that four-poster looks like a double-bed anyway."
To be Continued...