Falconsmere: The Chosen Ones

by Pink Panther

This story includes instances of underage boys having sex, both with adult males and with each other. If this is not what you want to read, please leave this page now.

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Chapter Eight

In early March, the results of the Common Entrance Exam arrived. With nineteen of their twenty-four candidates having been offered places at top schools, they were everything that Mr Johnstone had been hoping for. The other five boys, including the terminally dull Anthony Lockwood, would find themselves at lesser establishments, where the only requirement for entry was their parents' ability to pay the fees. There were plenty of such places around.

Over the next few days, scholarship offers began to arrive. One of them was for Matthew Wainwright, who'd been offered a music scholarship at Charterhouse. With the boy's audition at the Purcell School scheduled for the following week, the headmaster considered that he was unlikely to take it up.

Mr Johnstone had mixed feelings about that. Charterhouse was an ancient foundation with a long tradition of excellence. By contrast, the Purcell School had been in existence for a mere eight years. On the other hand, the Wainwrights were not rich. Even with a scholarship, sending Matthew to Charterhouse would cost them considerably more than a place at the Purcell School, where the government subsidised the fees. He consoled himself with the thought that it wouldn't be his decision.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Friday evening. A little after ten-thirty, Peter Fox sneaked out of his dorm and quietly made his way to the headmaster's room. Having been awarded a mathematics scholarship by Winchester College, one of the country's most successful academic institutions, he'd readily accepted Mr Johnstone's suggestion that they should spend their Friday nights together. Although the headmaster would still do some school work with him, the pressure was now off.

After tapping on the door, he stepped inside, locking the door behind him. Mr Johnstone was sitting by his desk.

"Peter! So good to see you!" he cooed, smiling. "Come here!"

Striding across the room, Peter parked himself on the man's lap.

Opening the boy's dressing gown, Marcus slid his hand through the opening in Peter's pyjamas, gently fondling the thirteen-year old's stiff penis through his soft cotton underpants.

"Mmmmmm!" he purred. "I've been looking forward to this!"

"Me too, sir!" Peter agreed.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Early the following Tuesday morning, Mr Johnstone drove Matthew to the station for his journey to Hertfordshire. There was little conversation, the boy totally focused on what he needed to do. Boarding the train to Paddington, Matthew found a seat and settled himself in.

He'd prepared meticulously, learning the pieces that he'd be required to play until he could execute them all perfectly. They included a movement from a Beethoven string quartet that he'd have to play with three of the school's current students. That would be a totally new experience for him.

With Mr Johnstone's help, he'd listened to the work on record so that he knew exactly how it ought to sound. To make sure he could stay properly in synch with the professionals, he'd even played along to the recording. Knowing, however, that the Purcell School students might play it a little differently, he understood that if they did, he'd have to be able to respond.

On reaching Paddington, Matthew took the underground to Euston, where he boarded the train to Bushey, grateful that Mr Johnstone had given him some money to pay for a cab from the station to the school. That was a real bonus. With his cello to carry, he hated having to travel on buses.

He arrived at the school at quarter to eleven, fifteen minutes before he was due. Finally, he could relax. Looking around, he noted that it all looked very informal. For one thing, there was no school uniform, which was very different from what he was used to. Sitting in the foyer dressed in his grey school shorts, he felt somewhat out of place.

Just before eleven, a man whom he judged to be in his thirties strode towards him.

"You must be Matthew!" he said, smiling. "I'm John Berger, the admissions tutor here. We've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Thanks!" Matthew acknowledged, getting to his feet.

"The programme for today is that we'll audition you first," Mr Berger explained, guiding Matthew along the corridor. "By then it'll be lunchtime, when one of our senior students will show you around. After lunch, there'll be a short interview, probably around twenty minutes."

Moments later, Matthew was ushered into a rehearsal studio, where two men were sitting behind a long table. A short distance away, a lady was sitting at the piano.

"This is our principal, Dr Cole," Mr Berger announced, indicating the older of the two men, "and this is Paul Lester, our cello specialist. Mrs Palmer will accompany you on your two set pieces. Right, would you like to get yourself set up, please!"

After removing his jacket, Matthew sat on the chair facing the judging panel and took out his cello. Having adjusted the floor-spike to make sure he was comfortable, he laid it on the floor while he took out his sheet music, carefully arranging it on the music stand. Finally, he tuned his cello to the piano.

The audition began with a sight-reading test. As this was a skill that Matthew practised constantly, it held no terrors for him. The test consisted of two exercises. The first one was short and quite straightforward. Matthew played it flawlessly. The second was longer and considerably more complicated. He played that one with no more than a couple of minor glitches.

They then moved onto his set pieces. The first one, Scherzo by Georg Telemann, dated back to the Baroque period. Although less than two minutes long, it was technically quite demanding.

"Would you like to brief Mrs Palmer on how you'd like to play it?" Mr Berger suggested, "you know, tempo and that."

Matthew was a little surprised, as music from that period didn't allow for much variation.

"Please just stick to what it says in the score," he requested.

This was where the hours of practice that Matthew had put in began to pay off. He didn't need to think; he didn't really need to follow the score. He knew the piece so well, he just played it, getting every detail just about perfect.

At the end, he looked across at Mrs Palmer, who was beaming at him. She'd obviously enjoyed it, just as he had.

Matthew's second piece, Sicilienne by Gabriel Fauré, was far more recent and at almost four minutes, a good deal longer. It was one that he loved to play as it enabled him to bring out the beauty of the cello's sound.

"So how do you want to do this one?" Mrs Palmer asked.

"Well, about up to what it says on the score, but definitely no faster. I like to get plenty of expression into it!"

Right from the outset, Matthew was totally in the zone, with Mrs Palmer right there alongside him. He'd never worked with an accompanist as skilled as she was, and it made such a difference! He didn't just play the piece; he produced his best-ever performance. As he delivered the final notes, he was elated, unable to imagine ever playing it better than that!

He looked up at the judging panel. They looked favourably impressed too, although they weren't giving that much away.

"Okay!" Mr Berger said, smiling. "Now it's time for the string quartet! Would you like to come in, please?" he added, opening the door to an adjacent room.

Two girls and two boys trooped into the rehearsal studio. The girls both looked to be in their early teens, but Matthew wasn't too sure. He always found it hard to guess girls' ages. The first of the boys he guessed to be fourteen or fifteen. The other one was bigger and older, and wasn't carrying an instrument. So he was there to listen, Matthew reasoned, although he had no idea why.

"These are Amy and Rebecca on violins, and Olly on viola," Mr Berger explained. "And this is Gideon; he's currently our principal cellist."

"Thanks!" Matthew acknowledged.

He remembered Amy, who was very pretty, from the concert at Wigmore Hall. He wasn't sure about Rebecca or Olly, but guessed that they'd probably been there too. But the one who really captured his attention was Gideon. With a wonderfully athletic physique, a most engaging smile, and a shock of dark, curly hair, he was very good-looking.

But there was no time for him to dwell on it; he had important work to attend to. Over the next few minutes, the quartet got themselves organised. As soon as everyone was ready, Amy directed the tuning-up.

This, Matthew realised, was the real test; playing a piece that he'd only recently learned with musicians that he didn't know. Even so, he felt confident. He'd put the work in; he couldn't have done any more. He could hardly wait to see if the others knew the piece as well as he did.

With Gideon standing to one side of the judges, Amy counted them in and they started playing. To Matthew's joy, they gelled beautifully. He knew immediately that Amy, Rebecca and Olly were all very good players. If he came here, he'd be working with musicians like them on a daily basis. What a prospect that was!

Once again, he didn't need to think. By listening and reacting to the other players, he could just let it flow, until they finally brought the piece to a triumphant conclusion. Matthew's first experience of playing in a string quartet had been everything he could have wished for. As he looked around, everyone was smiling, his new bandmates especially. They'd all performed well, every one of them.

"Very good!" Mr Berger congratulated. He turned to Matthew. "When you've packed your things away, Gideon will take you to lunch and show you around. Then we'll see you afterwards."

A few minutes later, Gideon, acting like a friendly older brother, guided the potential new student into the dining hall.

"I loved it this morning," Matthew confided. "I hope they offer me a place!"

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Gideon assured him. "Unless you make a complete mess of the interview, you're in! You played the Beethoven beautifully, and from what we could hear from next door, the rest of it was very good too."

"Thanks!"

"These things don't just happen," Gideon continued. "You were able to play the Beethoven like that because you haven't just practised it. You listened to it and analysed it until you knew it inside out. Right?"

"Yeah!"

"And that's what they're looking for, because that's the sort of dedication you need if you're going to make it as a professional."

Having finished their lunch, Gideon gave him a tour of the buildings. Walking alongside, Matthew found himself getting a hard-on. Every time he glanced up at the older boy, his cock twitched.

He found it very confusing. He didn't want to be attracted to Gideon; he just was. He hoped to have a girlfriend when he was a bit older, and to do all the things that boys are meant to do, but he was starting to wonder if that would ever happen.

Having been at a boys' boarding school before starting at the Purcell, Gideon recognised the signs. Dressed in his prep school uniform, Matthew was beyond cute. More than that, the boy was clearly available. A few years earlier, he'd have probably made a move.

At this point, however, he had a steady girlfriend and a place at the Royal Northern College of Music, where he was due to start in September. He wasn't going to take the risk of `behaving inappropriately' with a thirteen-year old boy, no matter how cute the lad was.

Almost in spite of himself, Matthew kept flirting, desperate for the older boy to give him a positive response, resulting in them having sex. While Gideon knew what Matthew was doing, he neither gave him encouragement nor told him to stop. Totally frustrated, Matthew tried again.

"I'm really looking forward to working with you in the cello section," he said, smiling up at Gideon.

"Sorry," the older boy responded, "but I'll have left by then," before going on to explain what he'd be doing.

Crushed, Matthew gave up, knowing that in all probability, they'd never see each other again.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Matthew's interview went exactly as Gideon had predicted. In a very friendly atmosphere, the panel asked him about how he practised, how he went about learning a new piece, what he liked about being a musician, which was almost everything, and what he disliked, which was hardly anything. In addition, they allowed him to talk about the music he most liked to play, and what made playing it so special.

"Well, thank you for coming today, Matthew," Dr Cole said, wrapping things up. "We'll be in touch very soon."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Arriving at the station a couple of miles from Falconsmere, as instructed, Matthew called Mr Johnstone's direct line. Ten minutes later, the headmaster came to collect him.

On the journey back to school, Matthew told him all about the day's events, including his encounter with Gideon.

"You're a very naughty boy, Matthew," Mr Johnstone reprovingly. "I would have hated for you to be denied a place because you'd been found in flagrente delecto with one of their senior boys. It wouldn't have been too good for him either, which is probably why he didn't go for it."

"What does in flagrente delecto mean, sir?"

"Caught in the act! Anyway, should I take it that you still want to go there?"

"Oh yes sir! I'd be working with really good musicians every single day!"

"Then let's hope Gideon was right!"

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The following morning, Matthew was given a message, telling him to report to Mr Johnstone at lunchtime. When they were dismissed at the end of morning classes, he strode towards the headmaster's room, his heart pounding. After knocking on the door, he walked in.

Mr Johnstone was sitting at his desk.

"Matthew!" he greeted. "Just the man I need to see!"

"Sir?"

"This morning, I received a phone call from Dr Cole, the principal of the Purcell School. He asked me to let you know that they will be offering you a place. They'll be sending letters to us and to your parents later today. From what Dr Cole told me, they're very keen for you to go there."

"Sir, that's fantastic!"

"You've earned it."

Matthew paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Sir, I'd just like to thank you for all the help you've given me."

"You're more than welcome," Mr Johnstone assured him, reflecting that all the sexual favours the boy had allowed him far outweighed any help that he'd given.