Enjoy the magic of Lost Lad

Here is an extract from Chapter 8 - Water-cum-Jolly Dale

Scott looked for a footpath to the riverside, which, in spite of its apparent invisibility, he knew had to pass between the mill and a very steep, densely wooded hill to the north. Success! A narrow passage took them, as it seemed, into another world. Like entering the 'secret garden', they had been transported into a beautiful secluded deep valley, shut in by rocks and woods, the first of a chain of lovely limestone ravines.

Suddenly, here in Water-cum-Jolly Dale, it was cooler, more tranquil with a totally different atmosphere - save for a rush of water to their left which required investigation. Smooth, clear, polished water, slow at first, and then bending, dipping, just before getting cloudy and agitated as it tumbled over a rocky fall. For a few moments they were entertained by the occasional leaf which would accelerate and get pulverised in the turmoil below.

The waterfall formed a constriction which created a small lake bounded by overhanging, sheer limestone faces: faces which amplified and echoed the evocative euphony of various water birds calling and crying. Nobody spoke, but everybody knew that this was a place to savour, a place to walk rather than cycle. There was a shared feeling of safety in the comfortable seclusion of this 'Shangri-La'. In this deep ravine, a serene, silent world of enchantment, steep rocks painted with lichen and moss gave a protective shield against modern noise.

Rocks and trees everywhere. They looked upwards following interesting craggy forms which became ruined castles - crooked medieval castles. But, unexpectedly, above the natural finials, arose out of the high foliage - an unmistakable man-made gothic structure, fashioned after the style of a fairy tale castle. This fantastic riot of sharp pitched roofs, steep gables, ornate tall chimneys and stone mullioned windows - broke the silence. They had discovered the home of Dracula! As if to confirm the fact, a solitary hawk was hovering high in the distant blue.

As they progressed, the lake became a river and the valley narrowed to become a gorge. The warmth of the afternoon reacted with the cold of rocks, water and shade to create sudden gusts which stirred up willows. Zephyrs flashed the underside silver of leaves making a stark, bright effect, which travelled along the riverside, waving in waves and swathes, rippling, swaying, bowing and beckoning - before subsiding and returning the foliage back to green.

Ubiquitous ferns with their distinctive smell covered the banks, sometimes marestails pushed out of the mud and sometimes a delightful patch of forget-me-nots turned the riverside blue.

The water had mood changes. When it was slow it showed shimmering reflections of ash and sycamore. When it was deep they saw long, gently waving green weeds stretched out in the direction of the flow. Inches above, cute little black balls of fluff were going 'tweet tweet' and 'squeak squeak' racing along to keep up with mum.

Just occasionally, the sun struck through this gorge of contrasts and shadow to glisten, sparkle and twinkle off the river surface - a surface often broken by the quick leap of a fish catching a hapless fly.

The valley seemed to get even deeper like a journey to the centre of the earth. The limestone had a multitude of tints from a flash of white to grey and occasional black. Above and beyond, right at the top, smooth, bright, green fields closely cropped by grazing sheep, were occasionally scarred by eruptions of ancient weather worn rocks.

Down below the boys were entering Miller's Dale and being entertained by sinister grotesque shapes of long dead trees, still majestic in death as in life: living ivy feeding on the rotting wood. Here they scared each other with ugly goblins, old hags and monsters. Dense foliage formed mysterious tunnels and caves, darkened and obliterated with cascading ivy, lots of ivy, harbouring more unknown horrors.

Abruptly, the teasing ceased when they saw an odd looking boy illuminated by a shaft of sunlight.

From Chapter 10 - Wormhill

Danny switched off the light. A distant hooting owl attracted no comment: all the teasing had gone out of Brian. He was tired, very tired. They were all very tired and, in the luxury of good firm beds and clean white sheets, they quickly descended into a deep sleep - the sleep of the gods.

Sometime later, much later, Simeon was awakened by bladder pressure. All the tea and milky coffee had finally taken its toll and called to the young man from that distant, cosy, mysterious other world of deep slumber. Unwillingly, slowly, he came to consciousness. He disentangled himself from the comfortable arms of Morpheus and in pitch darkness, fumbled and staggered out in search of the bathroom. Desperately trying to be as silent as that dark night, he navigated along an alarmingly creaky complication of steps up, steps down and acute confusing angles before, very gratefully, reaching his destination. Simeon stood before the bowl and breathed a long, deep sigh of blessed easement. He had never read a word of Shakespeare but at that moment could easily have quoted Francisco the Elsinor soldier - "For this relief, much thanks."

The old house was still warm from the heat of the day. Unlike Francisco, Simeon, clad only in underpants was not cold. As he turned to retrace his steps - sudden alarm! His exit was blocked by a dark form who had stealthily crept out of the deeper shadows. Any fear which had initially gripped the startled lad was short lived, when, faint starlight silhouetted the familiar profile of a friend. In the few moments of tense silence which followed, eager eyes and mouth-watering lust scanned down an adolescent trunk to take in the exciting view of an urgent and demanding manhood. Hardened by desire, the unsmiling, unfriendly face gave an unspoken command - "Deal with it."

He did not know or appreciate it at that time, but Simeon would eventually look back over the years and view those early, delicious and relatively innocent teenage moments as - 'the Real Thing'. The Real Thing was true ecstasy in stark contrast to the more contrived and planned experiences of adulthood. Natural rough lads, rough hewn from a coal mining community were totally masculine, totally one hundred per cent butch - butch as the hard bricks which built Heanor. So very different to the many anonymous touches which would follow in later years. Touches becoming repellent when later identified as ministrations from the old, the soft, the slimy, the artificial, the affected, the effeminate, the sophisticated and the piss elegant.

America, more earthy, less inhibited, would be an improvement and, at its most abandoned, would eventually take Simeon to the heights of excitement with organised marathon maulings in public view but, even this, could not, would not, did not compete with those secret snatched moments of early teens and those forbidden fondles born of a playful grope. Quick opportunities of a stealthy touch arose out of a chance meeting of two boys in the changing room, the toilet or any quiet secluded corner of the school. Any shame was eclipsed by the physical excitement of hot blood and desperate need to reach a climax at the hand of another. Any concern was eclipsed by the unspoken assurance that any such illegal and immoral incident would never be mentioned or even whispered again.

Such moments of pure ecstasy would, like this precious incident, begin and end in silence. In silence the two boys returned to their beds never to speak of it again, and, once more, to sleep.

Some hours later it was a noise, a soft noise out of the silence of the night and very close. Simeon saw two eyes staring at him: eyes deep set into dark fur. To gauge the distance, a small head moved sideways before an athletic, liquid body, leaped from the half-open window onto the bed, skilfully and silently landing with no more impact than a gentle kiss. This was not the return of Diddle Do, this was Phoebe who had come to visit her friend. The drowsy welcome lasted for just a few strokes and a few contented purrs before both cat and boy were fast asleep.

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