Date: Sun, 5 Jul 2009 22:31:48 +0000 From: Jo Vincent Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: Sequel 26 Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's A Sequel by Joel Seq: 26: 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 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 new-born son 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 relieved 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] David Vinodosj Secret police Saturday Night We'd decided to give the Club a miss mainly as we would be questioned about where we'd been and what we'd done, especially with Tris and his plastered bonce. Still we had plenty of company in the set. Gabe and Josh were accompanied by Raph with Hary and his brother Franz, who was now getting about on crutches. Charles came in but said he wouldn't stay long as he had to pack as he was driving Lindsey up to see some relatives in Manchester and would be back on Wednesday. Of course, when he went questions were asked but even Gabe made no comments. We finished off the food left over from lunchtime and teatime and we did sketch in a few details of our trip. Nothing too sensational! I think they all sensed there was more to tell. All the others left quite early so we just sat and mulled over the happenings and what we were to tell the Master at lunch on Sunday. He could have copies of the two 'affidavits' which just needed printing out, plus copies of the photos and I still had to contact Dr Stein and return the key. Of course, Curt's name cropped up. We laughed and wondered what his reaction would be when he heard he was truly Baron Wildenstejn, that is, if the nobility and titles were restored! It was so good being back in the set together even only for the short time before I had to hand over possession. Strange that Mum and Dad would be the interim occupiers before Toad was installed as the next Pennefather Organ Scholar. I still had to inspect the flat we'd been promised and all Tris would say was that there seemed to be piles of pizza cartons and empty Coke bottles when he'd had a peep when Quentin wasn't there. He was due out on the Fourth of July. The date seemed familiar but I couldn't think why! Anyway, any damage done to us didn't hamper or inhibit our love-making. We revelled in the closeness and intimacy of our two bodies. Tris was in quite a philosophical mood and as we lay quietly after relishing the second of our couplings he said when we were at the hospital he heard me shout out 'My Tris, don't let him die!' in the distance and it was that which brought him round. He said, as he kissed me again, it was the most wonderful thing to hear me call that out and he knew he would be OK. I clasped him tightly and said he was my only thought at the time and would be for ever. "I think our experiences in Rothenia have brought us even closer together," he said, "Even though we had that awful experience being shot at I knew we would be safe. I knew you had a mission to fulfil and in no way would you fail. I heard that voice quite distinctly 'Do not waver!' and although knocked out I knew all would be well in the end." "It's strange," I said, "I think Andrei is somehow involved with us. I watched when he was with Ivo. There seems such a close rapport between them and every time he speaks to me I feel he's connected in some way." "I know what you mean," Tris said snuggling up closer, "Even though I'm an outsider, as it were, I can sense there is something very familiar about him. It's odd we were a bit worried about him to begin with." He shook his head against me. "No longer. And he said he's had a previous experience of Saint Fenice. We'll have to ask him about that, too." "Yes, he said he would tell us some time." "But, I think there's more." I hesitated. "I think Ivo said his mother was English. I just wonder about his family tree." Tris's chest heaved against mine. "And get him to show you his leg!" "Don't take the mick. I'm being serious," I said, rubbing his back. "Anyway, it could be a giggle. Think of Microbe. A possible connection to the Rothenian royals! It's bad enough with Unc and Aldo!" Tris pressed up close. He liked his back rubbed. "How do we go about it? We could ask him straight out about his English connections. Do you think he would mind?" "We could ask Ivo first. He may know already. I'll phone him in the morning. We can ask how George Henry is and then ask about Andrei casually." Tris nodded against me. "And there's the other thing." "What?" "He's gay. It's a family trait to be bi or gay, isn't it?" "True. That's what we were told at Ulvescott. But it doesn't mean he's part of the family." Sunday After that we must have dropped off as the next thing I knew was the little ring of Tris's alarm clock. Blast! He hadn't altered the time. Seven o'clock! We could have had another hour at least. Huh! I was awake but Tris wasn't. If he was going to be employed by Phillips, Van Zyl and Partridge he'd better get a louder clock which wakes him up as well. No, I wasn't disgruntled, but I liked my bed. Better shift. I had things to think about. I was showered and shaved long before Tris shifted himself. In fact, I'd had a look through the notes I'd taken at the Rodolfer and was going to pass over to James Tanner. I had another look at the very clear ones the girl doing Logic had produced. Wow! I saw exactly what she was attempting to do. Several lines later and I'd come to quite a serious further conclusion. Where had that idea come from? I just didn't know. What I did know was that I was getting more of these. Was I gaining confidence? I would just have to wait and see. Anyway, being a kind soul I took a nice, hot mug of coffee into a gently snoring Tris. He smiled as he woke up. That made my day! Only part of my day. While he was washing I found a thoughtful Sean had left half a dozen eggs in the fridge. Admittedly, there was a note on the box saying how much I owed for them. When I turned it over the cheeky hound had written 'Caught you! Nothing to pay!'. There was one task to do before contemplating breakfast. I didn't phone Ivo, I concocted an e-mail instead. Just saying we'd had a splendid day the day before - mainly due to Mr Marriott getting us designated as Diplomatic Bags. I gave a quick resume of the flight and the prisoner's discombobulation over Tris's announcement. I had to condense the description of the scene in the kitchen but said he would be meeting Kasim and Wasim as they were coming to Rothenia as well at the weekend. Finally, I asked if he knew anything about Andrei's mother. Was it correct she was English? I thought that would be enough to make him wonder. OK, I did send best wishes to 'Tory and George Henry at the beginning. Signed off and sent and having done that breakfast was prepared. Over breakfast Tris suggested I phone Adam and tell him the tale. Perhaps someone at Ulvescott could come up with a family tree? I did that and for once Adam was sweetness and light from the beginning. Probably Nate had given him great pleasure the night before and he was still in a state of euphoria! No, I think he was just intrigued and said he would make enquiries. In fact, it was Nate who was euphoric as he'd submitted his thesis two days ago! We had a morning free. What to do? It was a bright, sunny day. Nothing for it but a pair of shorts, a book and a bit of suntan lotion and a lie out behind a convenient shrub. At twelve we wandered in, washed again, and dressed a bit more conventionally. Unc's tops and slacks and ready for lunch. I said we should wait until James and Paul appeared then follow across the quad. This we did and as the Master welcomed us we got appraising looks - even more so when James and Paul saw us though James did a chunter. "I think we'll be getting a bill for near enough a thousand quid for all that stuff you've ordered." "James, it'll be worth every penny," the Master said, "I gave Manuel the list and he said the local restaurants will be queuing up for any surplus." He looked at us standing there like two spare pricks. "Take no notice." He turned and raised a finger. Sean appeared as if by magic with a silver tray and five schooners of, wow!, the College Amontillado. "Tristan, this is in your honour. I hear you have had another success. The Law Society this time. Congratulations!" "Congratulations!" This came from Mrs Mays who came in holding her own schooner, followed by Curt and Logan with their own clutched in their sweaty paws. She ushered the pair in past her. "I have persuaded them to join us for lunch. Manuel is preparing everything so we can relax and hear all the news." Now or never! I looked at Tris and we raised our glasses as I said "Let us propose a toast to Baron Curt Wildenstejn of Waldemars." Before he could drop the glass I added. "That is, if King Rudolf restores the titles of nobility!" It was a gabble after that. A gobsmacked Curt had to sit. Logan looked bewildered. The Master, James and Paul were laughing and Mrs Mays was trying to get us to elucidate. "Quite simple," Tris said, "We have incontrovertible evidence that if titles are restored, then in accordance with European custom, Curt could style himself Baron." I had my shoulder bag with me and drew out the picture which the soldier had picked up in the house. I held it up. "The house is there. It's empty and I think there's sufficient evidence for it to be returned to the family." If anyone could look stunned, dumbfounded, overwhelmed or whatever, then Curt fitted the bill. Quickly, we told the story of finding the house. How the military had arrived and the rescue of Brett from the mausoleum with the key. We glossed over the thugs but said one of the soldiers had found this particular picture and it was signed by Curt's great-grandfather. Paul Phillips was nodding as I said this. "It appeared?" he asked. I knew he'd come to the same conclusion as James Marriott. "It's definitely an 'apport'," he said, "I had a case a few years ago and there was no other explanation for the appearance of a ring which even the judge had to accept. Luckily he'd heard of other occasions so gave the defendant the benefit of the doubt." He was nothing if not astute. "And the way those three were stunned. Any explanation?" We said we had no idea of the official line but we knew there was something protecting us. Tris then said about the apparition at the hospital and the way it was repelled by the other picture. I showed them that one. Paul smiled. "I've seen a photograph of the icon that was copied from. It's St Fenice, isn't it?" He said he'd had another case where a collection of valuable icons had been stolen and had been recovered in rather mysterious circumstances. "My client said he'd prayed to St Fenice while holding a picture of her and had been told the icons would be returned. There had been no sign of a break-in and the only other person who knew the code for the alarm system was his daughter's ex-husband. He didn't have the icons and swore he hadn't stolen them but someone called our office with the address of a lock-up garage in Enfield and there they were. Unfortunately, though his fingerprints were on them it wasn't evidence as he'd helped the old boy move them around in the past. But the phone call was a mystery as the ex-son-in-law was in custody at the time and it was a woman's voice. Who it was was never established." Neither of us said we'd experienced the voice of someone more than once. We said little about the ambush but Tris had to explain his damaged head. He was hoping the plaster could be removed in the morning as it itched mightily, he said. His description to me earlier 'that it itched like buggery' was, thankfully, not repeated! Our description of the opening of the altar was just greeted with amazement. James Tanner reduced us all to laughter when he said quietly, in a world-weary way, "Mark Foster does it again!" It was obvious we had glossed over many things but just as we were called to the table by Sean I said we were going back to Strelzen for the Christening of George Henry. Mrs Mays was all ears. She had known 'Tory well as she'd been on various student committees and been invited to the Master's Lodge on many occasions. I also said I'd heard that morning that Nate Tempest had submitted his thesis. The Master nodded and smiled and I guessed Nate would be hearing some good news soon about a College position. Lunch was superb and the conversation continued. Curt was sitting between me and Paul Phillips and seemed quite subdued. Not overawed, but pensive. During the pudding course he said he would have to ask his father about the house. In his opinion it would probably be best if it could be used for some good purpose - like the children's hospital it had been. The Master said it might be an idea if Dr Stein came down from Edinburgh and talked to us. Paul said if there were any legal angles he would be very willing to act pro bono. He looked across at Tris. "And another job for you would be to get as much documentation as possible while you are over there. It sounds as if there isn't much but witness statements and affidavits would be useful." Tris said we had produced two documents ourselves and there was the copy of the grant of the title, plus plenty of people in the village who could be questioned. He said the Archbishop had the keys and he would, no doubt, add weight to any claims. "The more the better," Paul said. I then had to say about the recital and the handing-over of the scores. I let slip that we thought we had been slightly manipulated by the Minister of the Interior as he was rather unpopular. The Master looked up sharply at this and even James lost his enigmatic mein. "Sunday paper!" the Master said and James was nodding. "There's an article about arrests being made in Rothenia and the Minister of the Interior is off the hook. It seems he was being smeared because he wouldn't play ball with some rather nasty crooks." He looked at the pair of us sitting on opposite sides of the table. "So there's a lot more which you haven't told us, eh?" "I'm afraid so, Master," Tris said quite solemnly, then grinned. "Please, it's been a rather eventful fortnight. Could we leave it until the dust or dirt has settled, then it may even be clearer for us as well." One thing not mentioned were my presentations at the Rodolfer. I knew I would be cross-questioned about those by James in the morning so held my peace. Lunch ended and Mrs Mays said that coffee would be taken in the drawing- room. I was cornered by Logan as we went through. "Is your arm OK?" he asked. I was mystified. Nothing had been said about any damage to me. He grinned. "I spied the pair of you this morning and you've got a plaster on your arm like Tris has on his head." He winked. "Nice pair of legs, though! Look good in a kilt!" Cheeky bugger! "Tell you later," I said rather miffed as his were not on display today as he was wearing a top and slacks. The Master was fiddling about with a door in a rather elegant tallboy in the corner of the room. After a struggle he got it open and held up a bottle I recognised. St Mark's Fire! "It's OK, there's enough for a drop or two each and a bit more for Tristan. You were going to get a rather nice brandy Bernard Cavendish gave me but the wounded warrior deserves better. Actually, both of you, for all you've done for the College." James Tanner actually said "Hear, Hear" in chorus with Paul. Tris's face was a picture as he tasted the heavenly potion. "Wow" was his only comment. "I can get used to this," Mrs Mays said as she emptied her glass. "Any more adventures or commissions?" We just laughed and shook our heads. Then I remembered. I looked at James. "We did taste a rather special brandy which might be suitable for the brew. Interested?" Enigmatic again. "Abbot John and the monks would have to decide that." He looked at Paul and winked. "I think six bottles at least for pre-testing don't you think?" "One of those for the monks?" I asked. "Correct deduction." Curt went off and phoned his father. He said he would arrange to fly down on Wednesday morning if we could meet for lunch and then talk face to face. All OK. After lunch we strolled back to the set with Curt and Logan. There we told them the whole story. At the end Curt got up and went over to Tris first and hugged him and then came over to me and did the same. "You've done so much," he said, "And so much of it for me. I can never repay you." It was a very, very serious Curt who said that. Logan came over, too, and hugged Curt. "You've got big responsibilities now if all that works out. Your father will leave it to you to deal with I'm sure. You must go to Rothenia soon when things have been settled." Curt sniffed and nodded. "You'll come with me? Please?" "Of course, if you want me to." He looked at us. "You've been very brave. I hope nothing like that happens again." He smiled. "And we'd better try and keep the wee hound away from that Spa. Him showing off his tackle would cause a riot!" "Just because I'm well-hung!" the wee hound riposted, "That bastard Muscle Mildred last night squeezed me while I had that tray of drinks. She may have muscles but there's little to show down below! She's just jealous. And you weren't there to protect me. Flarchy Archie had his hand up your kilt feeling your Wee Willy Winkle, I bet." Logan shook his head. "He was jist tucking a five-pound note in ma shorts." "Hunh! Stroking your hairy thighs more like it. And why do you get all the money?...." A hand went over the open mouth, then Logan substituted his lips and gave Curt a real smacker of a kiss. When they both came up for air Curt was silenced for once. "Will ye stop yer blethering, ye wee imp. We share our tips always." The wee imp wasn't silent for long. "The only tip you ever want to share with me..." he began then looked at us and wrinkled his nose. "I suppose if I'm a Baron I've got to learn to behave!" Tris leaned over him and gave him a lip-smacker as well. "You stay as you are. You were put on earth to amuse us lesser mortals, your Honour, or your Worship, or however you address a Baron." The nose was wrinkled again. "I can think of at least three ways I can amuse you but..." The 'but' hung in the air. The four of us giggled and Logan gave Curt a none too gentle smack on his backside. "You promised you'd stop the teasing for jist one day." He laughed. "But you would'nae be ma Curt if you did." Plans were then made for the four of us to meet up on Wednesday when Dr Stein was due. I said I would arrange lunch in the set and Curt said he would talk to Cheffie who was sweetness and light at the moment. "I won't tell him Manuel is a better cook...." A raised hand from Logan silenced him. When they had gone Tris looked to see if there were any e-mails. There was one from Adam. The Ulvescott crowd were intrigued over the question of the family tree. Dr Thomson had suggested a possibility was that Jacques Fontane had a younger sister born about 1822. He wasn't sure if she had survived or another sister of the same name had been born later if she had died. He would have to contact his cousin in Switzerland. He did know there must have been other relations because someone had got to Switzerland during the War. News to come. Tris loaded down a picture he had of Andrei and matched it against me, Piers and the portrait of Agnes Leferreur. He ummed and ahhed over any likeness. 'Possible' was his conclusion. 'Wait and see' was mine. Monday Tris was up and about before me. He was itching to get to the office to check over any further developments in the Leopardi and Matteoli interests. He also had to get Jacob to contact Wasim's father's agents. "Business is business," he said rubbing his hands. I had James Tanner to contend with. Still, I had all the carefully copied out notes from the presentations I'd attended, plus a few ideas I'd had. His last words after lunch had been 'See you at nine-thirty'. All was OK. He said once I had a bit of free time I could spill all the beans we hadn't let loose the day before. "Mr Luffman has phoned me three times so far praising my 'researcher' for sending him such an enthusiastic young American. So enthusiastic his father has stumped up for wiring up the stacks! I must meet this paragon of virtue. He might offer to catalogue the stacks in here." He waved a nonchalant hand at the accumulated debris, detritus or dross of two academic lifetimes. "On the other hand I might let you burrow about. Someone will have to clear it up when I retire. And then there's this...." This was a pile of large printed pages. The proofs of his new book I guessed. "I have to check everything and I've found three superscripts they've missed already." "Keep you busy over the vacation," I said. Ow! Mustn't be rude. He just laughed. "Exactly what Paul said. He's very busy at the moment so we can only have a fortnight away." "Anywhere interesting?" I asked. "We're taking Barry up to the Isle of Skye. He's never been and he deserves a break. We shall miss him when he goes to Ulvescott." "Have you got a replacement? A good cook?" He shook his head. I flew a kite. "What about Curt? You'd probably get Logan as well." He laughed. "That's the best idea I've heard in years. Action stations. I'll discuss that with everyone tonight. Not a word, though." I was then put through the mill over my presentations. He'd had a letter from Professor zum Adamszberh praising my efforts which he showed me at the end. Then we spent more time over the plant hunt. If the stuff arrived in July then the monks could get on with something called maceration and the actual distillation could take place, he thought, in November. The brandy suggestion was also taken on board and he said he'd phone Abbot John that afternoon. I then showed him the notes I'd taken of the other presentations. He kept nodding as I placed the various pages in front of him. I kept the Logic one until last. "I'm never sure if I can really understand some of the ideas," I said, "But it struck me that she could have taken the line of argument here another step further....." There was another silence as he looked intently at the couple of sheets. He got up and went over to a blackboard and rubbed about half clean. I watched as he wrote up the first two lines of the exposition. "You tell me the next bit," he said and handed me the chalk. I explained what my line of reasoning was. As I chalked it up another thought struck me. There was a further side issue. I finished what I had already worked out and before he could comment I said I'd seen another result as I was working through the previous one. OK, I was on a wing and a prayer. I think I was using reasonable notation but said I needed to consolidate two ideas and wasn't sure how but I could set down the terminal result. I had to clear another bit of board to complete it. I turned and looked at James. The tears were streaming down his face. I must have looked quite alarmed. Was he ill? "Are you alright?" I asked as he drew out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. He was shaking his head. "Of course I'm alright." He went over to his desk and sat down and pointed at the chair I usually sat in. I sat and looked at him wondering what would come next. "Mark," he said slowly, "I've just watched something which happened in the same way to me, oh so many years ago. To tell you the truth you and I are so much alike. You've surprised me so often with your insights. Many times I haven't let on but I've tried to guide you further and further just as Dr Bell did with me. Today you've shown me my instincts were right. I just have to say you are a true mathematician. Your reasoning has taken that particular bit of logic to a much more fundamental level. Much further and in such a way I will have to think very hard and you must know that is supposed to be one particular area of my expertise." He smiled. "I think your thoughts develop when you're more relaxed. Now you have time and pressures are off the ideas begin to flow. I found the same." He pointed over to the laden shelves. "I have never had the time to look at them all but there are quite a few of Dr Bell's notebooks over there. He was always jotting down ideas. Many never got published. They're not bed-time reading but I think you might find things to take further yourself. Feel free. Stand on the shoulders of that particular giant even thought he was only five foot two!" I was like Curt the day before, dumbfounded. I mumbled something about I hoped I could add something because I really could do little else than mathematics. "You've got music as well," James said, "I only have mathematics." He smiled. "Gets boring when no one else knows what you're talking about. Still Paul's the same about getting legal arguments as unambiguous as possible." I said I hoped we could talk about boring things, whenever! He then said I'd better decide what topics I wanted to concentrate on for Part III. I wouldn't be bored then! Time had flown talking with James and it was almost twelve when I left him as he wearily picked up a pencil and a sheet of his page-proofs. Yes, I also had music. I still had a key to the Chapel side door so went up and played for almost an hour. I felt so relaxed. Was this the way to let ideas flow? I would have to see. After a rather disgusting lunch, both Cheffie and Manuel were off for the day and Gawd Only Knows who concocted the menu, I wandered into town and had a look for Sherlock Holmes books. Rather than give the lads new copies I trawled through two of the secondhand shops near St Edwards Church and managed to find five copies of 'A Study in Scarlet'. I discarded the idea of giving 'The Sign of the Four' as when Watson visits Holmes at the beginning of the first chapter Holmes is about to inject himself with his seven per cent cocaine solution. Not a particularly good role model for the dear boys. The old editions were rather handsome and were well illustrated and also cost more than the modern copies! We would have to think up a suitable inscription on the lines of 'To our Baker Street Irregulars...'. Tris was both tired and full of beans when he arrived back at half-past five. There had been a conference that afternoon with Gabe, Josh and Lorenzo about setting up an office for dealing with all the franchises. Tris said he was most impressed with the serious way in which the three of them took to the ideas and the possible ways of running the office. Tris said that the person who took most initiative was Josh and he thought he would be given the main job. As Gabe was going to do some tutoring this seemed to be just right. Lorenzo would deal with liaising between the Italian and the British offices. In any case Aldo and one of his staff were coming over at the end of the next week and would sort out as much as possible. Tris smiled as I gave him his second G & T. "The best thing is that I shall be working with Jacob almost full-time on the legal side once it's set up. There's a lot of interest because of the lad mags and the coverage and we've got to get things rolling as fast as possible. Come and sit by me and tell me what you've done." I picked up a couple of the Sherlock Holmes' books and showed him. He laughed. "I think 'To a brave Baker Street Irregular from Sherlock Foster and his sidekick Dr Price-Williams Watson with grateful thanks'." I laughed and agreed. "You'd better do the inscriptions. Best legal copperplate." Yes, Tris was very adept at stylish penmanship. "What about rugger shirts for them?" he asked. Blast! I'd forgotten those. "I'll get them in the morning,"I said. "We'd better guess sizes." I then said I didn't fancy dinner in Hall after the appalling lunch so we went into town and found a nice Greek restaurant. Feeling well-fed we strolled back to College and had an early night. At least it was early to bed but much later to sleep! Tuesday started slightly medically. First we soaked the plaster off the side of Tris's head while he had his head over a basin of hot water. He let out a few ungentlemanly expletives as the sticky stuff was detached from his growing hair. He hadn't realised there was only one stitch. We deduced the rest had been stuck down somehow and there was a very neat scar which was almost invisible already because of his hair growth. I then performed a little surgery. One snip of the nail scissors and the black stitch came free. "Thank God for that," he said as he surveyed his head in the bathroom mirror. "Your turn now." My arm had been itching a bit. I winced as the plaster came off. I had four neat stitches but the skin seemed a bit red and I had quite a scab in the centre. "Take yourself over to see Mrs Henson," I was instructed, "Get her opinion." I knew the Chaplain was away at some conference as there had been a notice on the board by the Porter's Lodge so I hoped his wife was at home. She was and wanted to know all about our adventures. She bathed the scabby area and said it was healing OK, just let the air to it and she would remove the stitches on Thursday morning as the surrounding skin was settled. Two cups of tea and a couple of scones later I felt fit and well and she seemed quite impressed especially when I said about Curt and the title. "My brother's in the same Department as Dr Stein so we've met him often when we've been up to Edinburgh. You'll like him, he's very quiet." She grinned. "Not like young Curt!" After thanking her I left, now with a soft dressing over a non-itchy patch, and bought six England Rugby shirts at the sports store near Sainsbury's. The assistant was most amused when I said they were being taken to Rothenia for lads who had never played rugger. I bought six as Tris had said a gift of one to Franzi's brother might make their relationship better. Oh, Tris, you do have a kind heart! Luckily we had pooled resources to pay for them!! I was rather apprehensive on Wednesday about meeting Dr Stein. We realised he was also apprehensive about anything to do with Rothenia. But before meeting him I had the greatest surprise ever when I went across earlier to the Porter's Lodge to see if there was any mail. There was. Two rather expensive-looking envelopes. One addressed to me and the other to Tris. Liam was behind the counter and handed them over with a quizzical look. I didn't enlighten him about the contents but realised they were rather official and must have come by special delivery from Rothenia as there were no stamps. By their Diplomatic Bag I assumed. Yes, Rothenia. Under Liam's steady gaze I had turned mine over and there were the embossed arms Tris and I had seen displayed on various buildings and notices. I didn't quite run back to the set but hurried as sedately as possible. I carefully unsealed my letter and read the contents. Wow! Double wow!! The letter was quite astounding. There were the Royal Arms again and very formally it stated, 'I am commanded by His Most Pious and Steadfast Majesty King Rudolph the Sixth to crave your presence for the conferment of the Order of Henry the Lion (Civil) in the Second Class in recognition of your recent services to the Kingdom of Rothenia.' It was signed by the Principal Private Secretary and under that was the date, time and place for the presentation. The Monday after the Sunday Christening at 11 a.m at the Palace. Under this was a very modern touch, the RSVP was an e-mail address. Attached to the back was a handwritten message in a very bold and decisive hand on a yellow post-it note. 'You deserve First Class but protocol insists... We'll have a chat over lunch - full details then, please! R.' Wow, again! Short and sweet. I felt a bit weak at the knees. To be continued: