Date: Thu, 4 Jun 2009 11:17:26 +0000 From: Jo Vincent Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Marks: Seq 20 Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's A Sequel by Joel Seq 20: Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned: Mark Henry Foster The story-teller: Newly graduated. Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend. Francis Michael Foster Alias Toad/Gobbo Mark's younger brother Shelley Price-Williams Tris's sister Adam Benjamin Carr Mark's cousin: newly appointed History Fellow Ivo Richie Carr Ditto, as his twin, safely married diplomat Sophia Carr Their mother in Dorset George Carr Their father: A farmer Victoria ['Tory] Carr Ivo's wife George Henry Carr Ivo and 'Tory's son: A few hours old Sir Henry Machin 'Tory's father, something in the City Lady Mary Machin 'Tory's mother Ignasz Zendener The hotel manager in Strelzen Tomas, Igor, Frantischek; Receptionists and students Aloys zum Adamszberh Rector of the Rodolfer University Jerzy zum Adamszberh His son, studying at Cambridge Tadeuz Galenosz A botanist, also at Cambridge Herr Diesselhorst A shifty Minister of the Interior Dr Claude Valentin Organist of the Cathedral of St Vitali Andrei zu Glottenberh Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services] Lucasz Voynovich Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division] Dr Paul Mossman Historian from Harvard Tuesday Lunchtime I waved the mobile at Tris. Paul Mossman must have thought he had two lunatics in tow as we did a little dance and laughed delightedly. We did quieten down, luckily there were no bystanders to witness our frivolity. We explained to Paul what had happened. "My sister's just had one, too, six weeks ago," he said. "Make you feel old being an Uncle!" "I'm not quite an Uncle," I said, "I think it's second cousin, as Ivo is my first cousin and not my brother." "Trust you to be pedantic! I want to be Uncle Tris!" Tris pouted. "I think we'll be honorary Uncles anyway," I said, hoping to mollify the dear soul. "You will be," said Paul. "I have about five assorted relations who insist I'm Uncle. Trouble is, it costs me when their birthdays come round." "Right, you can be Uncle and buy the prezzies!" I said to Tris, "Lawyer's fat salary!" Of course, explanations had to made and we made our relationship quite clear. Paul wasn't concerned. He showed us a photo of his fiancee and if he was appointed to a post in a University after his post-doc came to an end they were getting married. Anyway, over a quick lunch in a little cafe I gave him Dr Stein's address in Edinburgh and the lowdown on Michaelhouse and said I would contact James Tanner to make any introductions to the Librarian for him. "Try for an appointment there," I said, "You would have a job for life. There must be years of work in that labyrinth. That is, if you can sort out the secret of the shelving." He was very intrigued with the number patterns involved and was rather bemused when I said he'd better take plenty of electric cabling! I think his opinion of the English as eccentric was heightened somewhat! Anyway, he said he hoped we'd sort out the herbs and the house and he would definitely be at the organ recital. We left him just before two o'clock and hurried to the Botanic Garden. As we walked I asked Tris if he had noted the coincidence of the Leopold in the two documents. The warrant for the appointment and Mr X's burnt one. I said perhaps what Adam had told us was a red herring and perhaps Mr X might have been confused, too. "Yes, it's something to check on when we can. It seems to be a common name around here and I don't think Mr X was certain who it referred to. It must have been one of Curt's ancestors, though. He's in for a few surprises." He glanced at his watch. "Better keep all that under our proverbial hats as we have exactly two minutes to get to the Gardens." Dead on two o'clock we arrived but no sign outside of Jerzy and Tad. There were plenty of notices in both Rothenian and German at the entrance behind the very imposing statue of Heinrich II, the founder of the garden, and we saw a couple of directional arrows. Tris had a dictionary so 'Auskunft' was what we wanted. One of the young ladies in the Enquiry Office spoke good English and when we explained we were supposed to be meeting up with Tadeuz Galenosz she smiled and stopped a youngish man who was going into an office. "Professor Pelzer," she called out. He came across and Tris explained about meeting Tadeuz and Jerzy to discuss where we might locate suppliers of various herbs and plants. He grinned as he read the list which Tris showed him. "Come to my office," he said "Tadeuz is one of my students. I saw him just now going into a greenhouse." He led us through to a roomy office with a couple of benches down one side with a collection of microscopes and other equipment neatly arrayed. He wanted to know why we wanted the material and I explained about the College liqueur. Just at that moment a breathless Tad appeared followed by a laughing Jerzy. "I am so sorry," he said after the usual handshakes all round, "I was looking at a hybrid I have grown for my dissertation. Three of the plants are just appearing above the soil level in the pots. I am so glad as the seeds might have been sterile." "You are sure?" asked the Professor. "Yes, the leaves are correct," he replied, "Pavlo has prepared everything while I have been away in Cambridge and he is sure also." It was explained that Pavlo was the greenhouse assistant who looked after the planting of seeds and tended the plants as they grew. The hybrid was something Tad had spotted growing by a pathway near his home next to a field belonging to his family and had collected seeds from it last year. From the discussion I got the impression it was some form of short-stalked barley which he had noticed had very large seeds in the ears. At last after a further dialogue in Rothenian the Professor seemed convinced with what Tad had been saying and turned to us. "I must apologise, but this hybrid might be quite important. But we must look at your problem now." He scanned the list again. "It is interesting. You have twelve specimens listed here and all of them grow in Rothenia. I think you will find they all appear in one area. I mean, although some appear elsewhere in the country all twelve grow in one particular region...." We followed him across the room to where there was a large map of the country with various areas marked out. "...Tad, you have seen the list, can you tell me where I should point?" I had given Tad the list as well. He smiled. "It would depend if there are low areas as well as high and for some they would need more South. I have been with you to the mountains and have seen the gentians. The first is acaulis but the second is rather special, it is clusii. The myrtle is a common bush and likes sun." He pointed at the name on the list. "The next is balm and that is found on the low land. That is melissa officinalis." He went to the map. "I would say here." He pointed at the lower right hand side. Wow! The Tirolen region again. "Yes, I agree," said the Professor, "Each of these plants grows there. I think you will have to go to Rechtenberg. I will give you the names of two of my friends who have a centre there for medicinal plants. Very popular now...." "...Do they grow gingko?" asked Tris, "Two people staying in our hotel are looking for supplies of that." The Professor laughed. "I know. Two young Englishmen visited here yesterday and I have told them to visit my friends. They have a great interest in that plant and send many seedlings to Germany." He pointed at the map. "They have a small nursery in this valley here where it is grown. I think they are going there tomorrow." We asked about collecting plants. The Professor said there were laws about taking wild plants but there were numerous small-holdings where plants, especially herbs, were grown commercially. His friends would help in locating them. We thanked the Professor for his time and information and he was most interested that we were now off to the Cathedral so I could practise for the recital. He said he would attend with his wife and son who was ten and was quite musical. Tad said if we would like to see his plants first then Jerzy could drive us to the Domshorja, the hill in the Old City on which the Cathedral stood. Good. We wouldn't have to hurry down for a tram. So, after staring at half a dozen small green shoots we were whisked along side roads and arrived at the Cathedral with several minutes to spare. Tad was quite excited about the plant hunt and Jerzy said he would pick us up at nine o'clock, Thursday morning. As we got out of the car Tris handed over fifty euros for petrol and said we would pay any other expenses. Jerzy laughed. "As we visit Rechtenberg my Uncle has his farm in a valley near there and my Grandfather's house is above the village further on. It is called Rotehalsc. You would say 'Red Hall' I think. It is built of local stone and was once a beautiful house." He shook his head.. "Grandfather had to get out when the Germans were here in the War and then the Communists let him back as it was much ruined." He smiled. "He would be glad to see us. I was born in the village there and we can stay in the house for the night as it is summer and the rooms will not be damp!" Tad was laughing. "We went there last summer and there was no glass in the windows of our room." "It is OK now. Uncle Friedrich has made many repairs this year," said Jerzy, "He will retire soon and wants to live in the house so my Aunt can look after Grandfather. Grandfather is stubborn though and his housekeeper and cook are nearly as old as he is. My cousin Wilhelm will take over the farm when he finishes at the agricultural college." We waved them 'au revoir' and went into the Cathedral. We were quite early and no one was around so the Chapter meeting wasn't over and to fill the time Tris showed me where he thought the Guthlac Chapel was. I looked around and found a number of leaflets and one was in English. Yes, it was the one! It was locked and there was no information in the leaflet, just that it was 'Privaat'. We wandered back to the stairs under the organ loft looking at the various monuments on the way and Dr Valentin appeared mopping his brow with a large handkerchief. He waved it in front of him. "Do not get involved with priests," he almost hissed, "They fight like cats for their own piece of meat! I will be glad when His Eminence comes back to keep them from arguing. Poor Father Artur got shouted at when he asked a simple question. Oh, why did we have to lose the Monsignor? Even at his age he kept them in order. But, these are our problems." He tucked the handkerchief away. "Let us go up." The next hour was bliss. I did manage to put a foot wrong on a couple of occasions as the distances on the pedal-board were less than I was used to, but no matter, I knew where I had to be careful. Dr Valentin had some new ideas about the registration for the Rheinberger so I had plenty of practice for that piece. We had to finish just before five as there were services in three of the side chapels starting then, including a baptism. That reminded us. Where was the Clinic? And we'd better buy a present for young George Henry! Dr Valentin knew precisely where it was and gave us clear directions and said give Mrs Carr a kiss from him! He explained his wife and he had met 'Tory and Ivo at the Schreiber's. We had plenty of time to get there by six o'clock and strolled down Domstrasse looking at all the boutiques and saw exactly the thing. A fluffy Elphberg lion. "Henry the Lion," Tris announced as I picked up the bag in which the assistant had carefully placed the handsome creature. At the Clinic they must have been expecting us as the Porter at the reception desk immediately took us upstairs to a side room where Aunt Sophie and Lady Mary were seated laughing and chatting together with at least four bottles of champagne in front of them on a low table. Whether it was the effect of euphoria at being grannies, or the influence of the almost empty flutes of champagne they had in their hands, but we were grasped and hugged with great enthusiasm. Releasing us Lady Mary waved a finger at the Porter who was standing there laughing. He must have been used to such scenes. "Have a drink!" she said and deftly poured three glasses, one for him and one each for us. He bowed even lower than normal and the champers disappeared in a trice. We sipped ours more carefully as the pair said how overjoyed they were with the arrival, plus seeing us as well. We toasted mother and child and more champagne was poured. "And how is Ivo?" Tris asked, after taking another sip. "Looking haggard!" his mother said, "But bearing up." "When can we see the baby?" I asked. "The nurse will be out in a moment," Lady Mary said, "She'll take you in." No sooner said! A very efficient looking young lady marched in and gave the Mums a thumb's up. She looked at us and pointed to the table. We took the hint and put our glasses down, then followed her as she walked along the short corridor to an open door. There was 'Tory, sitting up in bed, holding the infant, with Ivo standing proudly beside her. I think we were both struck by a sudden shyness. Neither of us had had experience of small babies before. Still, we could congratulate the happy parents. After she carefully gave young George Henry to the nurse we both gave 'Tory a kiss and said how happy we were. Tris went round to Ivo and pecked him on the cheek, much to the nurse's amusement. "You stink of drink and garlic!" was Ivo's response to that kind gesture. I hurried round and gave him a real smacker on the other cheek and thought how nice and soft his beard felt. "Oh Hell! Another one!" he said most ungraciously. Then, being Ivo, he clutched both of us and hugged us to him. "Give us a proper kiss," he said. We did. Then it was inspection time. Young George Henry was all wrapped up so all we could see was a rather red, round face with closed eyes. "Looks just like him...," said Tris, pointing to the doting father, "...After he's had a few pints. Red in the face, eyes closed, but I can't hear any snoring." 'Tory was laughing. "That's what I thought, too!" Ivo took the bait. "I'll have you know I can hold my drink as well as the next man. Just ask my brother." "Like that time on the school roof?" 'Tory said. She'd heard the story! "Don't tell tales," he retorted, "That was a slight aberration on my part." "You told us it was deliberate," said Tris. He looked at the baby in the nurse's arms. "May we hold him?" he asked before any further riposte from Ivo. "His cousin first," said 'Tory and without more ado I had a sleeping bundle cradled in my arms. "What happens if he...?" I asked, remembering the time Mrs Coombs had a new puppy which I had picked up and I got a bit wet. 'Tory laughed again. "Same question that oaf asked. It's OK, he's all padded up. You'll have to learn how to change him. Ivo will teach you I'm sure." Ivo made a face. I wasn't sure whether it was because he would have that duty, or whether it was the task of educating me, or if he was still thinking of some rejoinder to Tris's statement. "My turn," said Tris and put out his arms. The nurse transferred young George Henry. "Getting broody, duckie?" asked Ivo. "Don't be so rude," said 'Tory. "Actually, I wasn't for once," he said, softening the usual Ivo image, "I think the pair would make good parents. Just give them a couple of years and they'll be adopting." I looked at Tris. We would never have our own children but we could be good Uncles. "I think we'll keep at being Uncles," I said undoing the bag and taking out the lion. "For George Henry, his first present from his loving Uncles, 'Henry the Lion'." A tear rolled down 'Tory's cheek. "He's a very handsome lion. Put him on the pillow by me." Ivo reached out and stroked the fluffy mane as I put him down. "I've still got the Teddy I had," he said, "He'll treasure that as much as I do my Teddy." Oh, a really sentimental Ivo! Tris handed back the infant and we both kissed 'Tory again and I passed on Dr Valentin's best wishes. That made her grin. We went out to the two Mums who were dispensing glasses of champagne to any passing nurse, doctor or visitor. Lady Mary was in charge. "Right, as soon as 'Tory has to feed the baby and rest we'll all go out for a meal. OK, Sophie. Think your son will mange to tear himself away?" "Mention food and he will," said Aunt Sophie taking a healthy swig and emptying the glass she was holding. "Food," a voice came, "I heard that!" Ivo appeared and was immediately handed a glass. He looked around. "I think we have more visitors." The Porter appeared almost bowing to the ground. Two laughing figures followed him. Andrei and Lucasz, both in smart civvies and carrying large bunches of flowers. There was much kissing and hugging, especially when Andrei and Lucasz reached us. They drank their champagne and were sent in to view mother and babe and while in there Mr and Mrs Marriott came bowling up. A rose corsage was presented to each of the Mums and another bottle was placed on the table. As soon as the military pair came out the others went in. By now poor 'Tory was quite exhausted and the nurse rather reluctantly, I thought, said no more visitors. She must have been rather intrigued at the stiff-upper-lip British being so light- hearted. Anyway, all and sundry, including Andrei and Lucasz, were invited for a meal. Where to go? A quick consultation between Mr Marriott and Andrei resulted in a phone call by Andrei and we walked sedately to a very posh restaurant just down the road in Fleichergasse where another toast to Mother and Child was drunk and a lavish three-course meal was consumed. "My husband's bonus!" was Lady Mary's remark when she insisted on paying and placed a black credit card in the leather folder at the end. Andrei was sitting next to me during the meal and said he was sorry he couldn't attend the recital as he was on special duties with his regiment from tomorrow now that Ivo was on paternity leave. I had the feeling there was something particularly special about the duties. He gave both Tris and me a special hug, too, as we parted outside the restaurant. "Be good, be careful," he said, "I am sure you will do well tomorrow evening. I am sorry I will not be there." Both Tris and I had imbibed rather freely so were glad of the taxi ride back to the hotel. Igor was on duty with Frantisheck sweeping out the lobby. I gave Igor the bottle of champagne Lady Mary had pressed on me. "Some for Tomas as well," I said. "He will be arriving," Igor said, "I put it in fridge. Cold good!" Safely up in our room we didn't open the other bottle but immediately went to bed. It wasn't late but we had plenty to discuss, including the rather blatant sexy look Franzi had given Tris. "Bet Franzi loses his cherry to Igor tonight," I said, "Two glasses of bubbly and that chicken will be anybody's." Tris laughed. "I agree. He's ready for plucking!" Wednesday We, or at least I, would have a busy day. But, Tris decided it would be best to have a quiet morning in the Art Gallery and the newly opened History of Rothenia exhibition. "Ivo said we'd better visit the legation to meet Miss Grant who'll come to the Ministry with us," said Tris, "I'm not too keen on meeting him again. He's got something planned I'm sure." I laughed. "If it was his studio the lads were at he might hand over a batch of photos." Tris was being very serious. "I think he's after a bit more power and I don't want you, or me, being used.. Cosy photos and interviews in the newspapers are a good way for a politician to lull people into thinking what a good fellow he is. You've only got to think of a couple of our own Cabinet Ministers who are all smarm and bonhomie and probably getting nice directorships all lined up for later." "There's nothing much we can do," I said, "Miss Grant will advise us, no doubt. Anyway, I'll be thinking of the recital so I'm afraid you'll have to do much of the listening and talking." He nodded. "Yes, you've got to be relaxed." He laughed. "If we get offered anything stronger than coffee you'd better refuse." I needed some strong coffee now for breakfast so we were downstairs ready for the cafe at eight thirty. Brett and Fraser were in the lobby with overnight bags and looking at a map and in earnest conversation with Igor who was pointing out something on a road map. They looked up and were all smiles. "Hi," said Fraser, "We're just about to go. Igor's showing us the best way out of the city. Rechtenberg, here we come." Neither Tris nor I said we were going to explore that region, too, but tomorrow! "Have you had breakfast?" Tris asked. Brett nodded. "Early birds, We got there before eight." He patted his stomach. "Had the Full English and got a special pat on the back from the waitress!" We retreated and said 'best of luck' as the German party were descending the stairs or disgorging from the little lift. I shook my head when Tris asked if I'd like the Full Monty as he called it. "No thanks, just the usual." He agreed. We did get two pots of coffee, though, and a great smile from Jelka. We called in at the Legation before our visits to the two galleries. Miss Grant was a friendly, no-nonsense, lady. Obviously, most efficient. She said the meeting with the Minister was now at two-thirty. Be at the Legation at two and we would be driven to the Ministry. "We'll put on a bit of a show but you won't have the Union Jack flying," she said with a laugh. She said she was going up to the Clinic at lunch-time to see George Henry and, no doubt 'the lad' would be present. Saying 'the lad' meant there was a real rapport there! Also, she would be at the recital. The recital!! I had to keep a clear head. Still we had a quiet leisurely morning and I felt quite relaxed when we had an early lunch then went to the hotel to change ready for the interview. We'd decided to keep as tidy as possible - at least I would be out of view up in the organ loft. After the interview I said we should go along to see 'Tory and George Henry again and I could then be at the Cathedral at half past five for a final run through. I called Dr Valentin on the number he had given me and Madame answered and said she would check and get back to me. Luckily, we were having coffee at the Art Gallery when she rang back. Sorted! The ride to the Ministry was hilarious. Miss Grant insisted we went by a roundabout route as we had the official Legation limousine, even posher than the one which met us at the station. The driver was a Rothenian - not Andrei - resplendent in full chauffeur's uniform. Must say we felt the bee's knees. Actually, all passed quite peacefully and with the height of courtesy. I think two British lads felt very proud of the way we were treated and the way we reacted. The Minister seemed less smarmy in private. The act was put on once the photographer entered. The interview was held in a very ornate room and I, the Minister, the scores and Tris were photographed in various combinations and were questioned separately or together by a young male reporter from the main Rothenian newspaper. Equivalent of the 'Times' Miss Grant said. There was a glass of fruit wine and very nice sandwiches and cakes to finish with and the Minister was quite delighted that all had gone well. So delighted he said he was instructing two of his underlings to attend the recital and report back. Miss Grant breathed a sigh of relief when we got back in the car but said nothing. We guessed anything said would get back via the driver! Again a roundabout route and we were dropped off right outside the Clinic where the Porter on duty outside rushed to the car to open the doors to let us out. "See you tonight!" Miss Grant said as we said goodbye. 'Tory was up and about and ready to leave the Clinic when we got to her room. Young George Henry was being held by his Dad with the goofiest look on his face. "He'll come down to earth," 'Tory said, "Especially when he has to rock him back to sleep at two in the morning!" "Shared responsibility?" said Tris. "Too true," said 'Tory. We were allowed to hold the still sleepy bundle while things were finally packed and 'Tory and Ivo went the rounds thanking nurses, doctors, cleaners, and all and sundry. The chief nurse followed us to the lift and her last words were in English. "Beautiful boy!" We were taken back to their flat by taxi with them. What a reception when we got there. Mrs Schreiber had prepared a Rothenian tea. Yniold was there with another stunning lad. So we met Pyotor as well. Isolde was in the drawing-room with her father, complete with her cello and he with clarinet. A merry duet heralded our entrance and George Henry woke and cooed. He didn't cry but made the most delightful sound. While we ate he lay in a cradle with Henry the Lion by his head guarding him. Tris was chattering away so I helped Yniold take dirty crocks to the kitchen. "And how is Pyotor?" The look was enough but he was bubbling to tell. "I went to meet him at the Gymno when their autobus arrived. We went into a classroom and we hugged...." He looked a bit coy. "....And I kissed him.... ....And he kissed me! He said let us be best friends!" "Good. Don't let him go. He looks very nice." "You will meet him again tonight. We are all invited to Dr Valentin's house after." "Better get back to him before Tris decides to parcel him up and take him back to England!" He wrinkled his nose. "I would come as well!" Oh crumbs! Mustn't let images get too intense!! After the influx had gone I went and lay down for half an hour to just relax and think through the pieces. I held the keys as I did so. All was peace. Dr Schreiber ferried us up to the Cathedral in good time for the last practice. I just tried two bits of the Alain and a little awkward passage in the Fugue of the Rheinberger near the end where the theme from the first movement appears double forte over a left hand accompaniment. Dr Valentin said Anton was pleased with his parts of the program and as we emerged from the stairs of the organ loft Father Artur was standing there. Dr Valentin said he would be in the loft at quarter to seven so just come up. He bowed and went. "Would you like to see the Chapel?" Father Artur asked after Dr Valentin strode off. Would we! He led us along the side aisle where a number of people were kneeling in side chapels or sitting waiting, I assumed, to make confessions. We stopped by the iron gate and he took a large key from a pocket in his cassock. He pressed a light switch and the sight revealed was most impressive. The Chapel was bigger than I'd imagined from the outside view. There were three rows of seats and kneeling benches and the altar was surmounted by a statue of St Guthlac just like the picture on the box and in the Psalter. A large window had a representation of him in it in stained glass as well. The altar itself was covered entirely in what looked like porcelain tiles and was shaped rather like a huge cupboard, I thought. Quite spontaneously the three of us knelt and as I clutched the keys they seemed to emit a heat of their own. In my head, or it may have been in the Chapel, I heard the clear instruction 'Do not waver'. I had my eyes shut very tightly but felt as if a warm breath passed over my head. I'd had a similar experience at Ulvescott. A hand gripped my wrist. It was Tris. I opened my eyes and the three of us stood. Father Artur nodded as we turned to look at him. He said nothing. We filed out of the Chapel, he turned off the light and locked the door. "Now you know there is a task to be done," he said enigmatically. "I do not know what it is. I think we shall be solving that soon. I think you found a feeling of peace in there. There may be clouds but peace will come." Yes, I knew what he meant. I knew Tris had the same experience from that grip on my wrist. Tris spoke. "Whatever we have to do I feel something strong out there..." He shook his head. "....What it is I do not know but we have experienced something similar in England." Father Artur nodded. "All will be revealed, I am sure." He took us along to a vestry room and chatted to a number of people on the way. It was quite apparent he was popular with the people in the cathedral as many wanted to talk to him. We shook hands or bowed to quite a few and it took some time to get to where he wanted to take us. Another priest was in the room pouring himself coffee from a large jug. He was much younger than Father Artur and was introduced as a teacher at the school which the choirboys attended. "I was there, too, as a boy," he said in good English, "So I know how to control them!" We had coffee and he said he had spent six months at Westminster Cathedral in London soon after he was ordained and had visited many places in the capital. Chatting to him time went very quickly. Luckily there was a lav just off the vestry so I was ready and raring to go just before quarter to seven. We followed the two priests out of the vestry and managed to have a quick hug before I walked along to the stairway. I don't think I or Anton had ever played better before that evening. Everything went so well. I managed to draw every bit of pathos and of joy from the Alain; the Rheinberger, on the type of organ it was written for, just flowed. My English pieces sparkled and I had to resist the temptation to play quickly. Anton's playing of the Buxtehude, especially, was pure joy. So between us I think we gave our listeners the very best of our talents. There was a hushed silence as those final, so-powerful chords of the Rheinberger died away in the reverberation and resonance of the huge building, then there was applause. A gradual, growing wave and Anton and I hurried down those slippery stairs to stand in front of what looked like several hundred people. We then stood at the side door as people streamed out. My hands were quite sore with the number of times they were grasped and shaken. At last it was just friends and family. Even 'Tory was there and on enquiry she said two nurses from the Clinic were babysitting George Henry. Aunt Sophie was outside the cathedral, mobile phone in hand, talking animatedly. As I peered out she came rushing up. "Your Mum!" I spoke to Mum, then Frankie, then Dad. Very naughtily Aunt Sophie had broadcast the final page of the Rheinberger back to England via her mobile from inside the cathedral and they said it sounded tremendous. We were then whisked off to Dr Valentin's where about twenty of us had a superb buffet supper. It was there I was kissed by both Yniold and Pyotor. "I luff 'im," said Pyotor in a surprisingly bass voice for one who looked so young, but he was almost eighteen. What he had which pressed up against me mightily would even outmatch dear Yniold's more than cute young monster. "Zank you vor tonight, zo good!" 'Tory and Ivo didn't stay long. Tris saw them to their taxi. "Guess who," he said when he rejoined the throng. "He'll be back for us later." In fact David joined in on his return and finished off the remains of a plate of ham and cheeses. "Must go to church more often," he whispered as he scooped up another helping of the thinly sliced smoked meat. Dr Valentin was over the moon. "Would you like a cathedral job?" he asked, I hoped in jest. "Pietersburg needs an organist. Just as soon as they can afford an organ." He laughed. "No, I think Anton will go there. They have an order in for an Italian organ for two years time. You must come back and play that." After all the excitement I was quite exhausted. I felt I had done my bit to increase the perception of Brits Abroad! Even 'Yoggers Stags' hadn't caused ripples, except in the pool at the Spa! But we had more searches to make and tomorrow would start us off on them. And we also had a copy of the grant of the Order of Henry the Lion to Curt's ancestor which Father Artur had given me as we left to get into the taxi. Back at the hotel we looked at that. A photocopied replica. In bed the name 'Wildewalmars' seemed to be imprinted on my mind as I dropped off into a deep sleep. To be continued: