Date: Sun, 04 Apr 2004 17:04:13 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 102

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

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

			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel


				CHAPTER 61

				 Part Two

			  Vignettes From My Life:

			      41: [Continued]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     He nodded.  Another ten pound note exchanged hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     I said I hoped they would be, too.  I said their life seemed hard but
if you liked doing something it made it easier.  He smiled.  He knew I
wanted to hear him play.
  He did.  Faultlessly.  The opening movement of a Haydn sonata I
remembered playing at about his age.  Where I had stumbled his fingers
rippled.

     Lachs and Sayed were sitting in the library reading the morning
papers.
  Sayed hugged his grandson and poked a little wad of notes into his
trouser pocket.

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

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

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

     Yes, we three went back a long while.  I felt a pang though.  Next
year it would be twenty years since that irrepressible imp died.  I felt in
my jacket pocket.
  Yes, that memento was there as ever.  That lieutenant's pip returned to
me.

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

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

     His face lit up.  "I do!"

     I saw Peter and young James buy identical silver chains and Andrew and
Nicolai bought matching silver rings as well as chains like the other two.
I wandered off to see what I could find for Jem and Sam who would there on
Christmas Day as usual, sweating and swearing in the kitchen.  Then, I
mentally went through the list and bought something silver for everyone I
could think of and found something very suitable for someone.
  The boys had wandered off to a small clothing store and in their absence
I also bought four silver bracelets and, as I went to the farm shop for a
supply of their fine olives, the assistant engraved the names.

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

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

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

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

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

     "Creep," said Andrew.

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

     I watched Nicolai absorbing this interchange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


42.  1994
          {Note: There are difficulties in transliterating Cyrillic letters
into Roman.}

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

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

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

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

     He nodded and smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

     The boys were well into their third or fourth bun as we sat in the
kitchen with Peter magnanimously saying that young James might as well stay
and he could have a bunk bed in their room, when Nicolai must have
remembered the letters.  He fetched his jacket and found them.  He looked a
bit puzzled, I don't think he recognised the handwriting.
  He tore open the first.  There was a single piece of paper, typewritten
in Cyrillic.  He looked startled then ripped open the second.  Another
single sheet.  Typewritten in Cyrillic as before.  He flung the letters on
the table, rushed out of the room and we heard him pound up the stairs and
a door slammed.  I looked at Andrew.  He went off immediately upstairs.  I
picked up the first letter and its envelope.  Funny, no 'return sender' on
the back.  I looked at the sheet of paper.  I recognised the characters of
his name 'Nicolai Filipovich Petrov'.  No more.  If only Ma was here.  I
scanned the other one.  Some sentences looked the same but there extra
words and some quite different sentences.  I looked at the two stunned boys
and a silent Anne.  Something had happened.

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

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

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

     We both knew the word for 'No'.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Gary was in his final year.  He'd taken French subsid to his main
study of Russian and some other Slavonic language.  He was one who had
already received one of what were known as the 'brown envelopes'.  This was
a discreet way of saying he had been approached to see if he would join the
British intelligence service on leaving college.
  Gary had said yes.  How did I know?  My lips are sealed.  I had signed
the Official Secrets Act many years before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     "Is someone really in danger?"

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

     He nodded.  I did smile then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Lachs 'phoned me while the boys were doing class.  While we waited why
didn't I bring the boys over to Ulvescott?  At least, he said quietly,
while things are being sorted certain persons unnamed would be safe.  Anne
agreed.  The boys were delighted.  Ulvescott again!  We set off by half
past ten and were there before twelve.  After lunch I sat with Lachs and
the two elder ones while Peter and James went off to see what they could
buy in the craft shops with the money slipped into their sweaty paws.
Lachs said he had high hopes of success.  He looked closely at the two now
less-worried boys.  He held Andrew's and Nicolai's hands and said he relied
on them to make a great success of their lives.  They promised.
                         *
     The next morning young Peter alone did class while James and I
accompanied him.  We let the pair sleep.  We knew that during the night
they had become one.  They had pledged their love and allegiance for ever.
At lunchtime they wore their matching silver rings with loving pride.  They
came over to me and held my hands and kissed me on the cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     The twins had always been most favourite 'cousins' of Andrew and
Peter.
  I think they had now upgraded that relationship to brotherhood with
Andrew and his partner Nicolai.  The other two youngsters had divined the
need for them to be alone and had moved into the end room.

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

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

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

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

     Anything for a quiet life.  Or would it be?  As Anne was speaking at
this conference I 'phoned Ulvescott and spoke to Sayed.  He just laughed
and said bring the lot.  I then spoke to Lachs and said my son James had
suggested the boys learned a bit of history.
  It was his turn to laugh.  We'd pored over the diaries and he knew the
contents well, he and his loved golden-haired brother.  A long time ago for
us but a memory as fresh as if it were yesterday.  Then what seemed so few
years ago, but thinking about it, it must have been at least 1965 when I
had talked to the twins' father and uncle about love and affection and the
story of diaries and happening so many years apart.  Now, a fourth
generation would know the contents of those early diaries.  How would they
react?  Like all boys I guessed!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Sayed smiled.  "Someday perhaps."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Oh, so Andrew knows about such places!

     "What about us?" asked Peter.

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

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

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

     We left any more concerted discussion for that day.  At least, I kept
out of it.  After dinner the twins sat with me and Nicolai in the drawing
room, while Lachs talked with Andrew and Peter in the study and Sayed went
off somewhere with young James.
  The sleeping arrangements were supposed to be that Andrew and Nick were
in Piers' room with the twins in the Horsebox and the youngsters in the
room next to me.  I retired to bed about eleven after all the boys had gone
up about ten o'clock.  All seemed quiet and I slept soundly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Jak looked at Saf.  Saf looked at Jak.

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

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

     So that was arranged.  In fact, the rest of the morning the boys spent
on the 'phone arranging delivery of the most up-to-date state of the art
equipment.  Their bosses at the two firms would be suppliers so were quite
happy if the boys disappeared sooner than later but they would like first
call on any findings the twins liked to sell or lease.
  I got the impression the boys were whizz-kids, not just nerds!  At least
that was what Andrew said in awed tones.  I supposed there was a
difference.

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

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

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

     Jak nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     I nodded and left them to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              *

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


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

Note: The final Part of the story [Chapter 62] will come next.  I have
prepared a Dramatis Personae.  It runs to about 12 pages and will be in
ASCII-DOS text format.
  If you would like a copy please e-mail me.  Subject line: Aladdin,
DramPer.  I will try to reply as soon as possible.  If anyone has loaded
down the whole story it is over 5 megabytes!
  You can see why it took a long time to write and to post to Nifty.  My
gratitude to Nifty for allowing me to share it with you.  With all best
wishes, Jo.