Lament for Darley Dene

Chapter One

Chapter OneIt was the beginning of one of those glorious summer holidays of long, long ago, the type which seemed to go on and on forever. Ben, no doubt like everyone else of his age, had plenty of ambitions for the school break. School was over for seven glorious weeks – seven weeks. A lifetime when you're only twelve. Try as he might, he couldn't really remember previous summer breaks. Not that he tried very hard, there was no point – why try and remember the past? It was gone, done and dusted. But one thing he did recall – nothing much ever happened. So this time would be different. This was going to be the first year when he actually felt determined to do something memorable, something new. Perhaps it was an indication that he was growing up, becoming a young adult, which made him more single-minded. A holiday, however short or long, was an opportunity for exploration, to experience. He certainly found himself wanting to know more about life now. He'd read books for hours, stare out of his window just thinking, looking forward to the weekends when he could wander up to the park, discovering new types of flowers, or trees, or birds. He'd often go to the library – if his mates found out, they'd rib him forever – and he'd read up about gorillas, tigers, killer whales. The world was opening up its treasures for him, and it was a chest stuffed full with wondrous delights. So, he made himself a mental checklist of all the things he'd like to accomplish during that long hot summer.

He'd like to improve his swimming, learn to kick a football properly, climb 'Granny's Rock' for the first time…so much to do and look forward to. He stared up at his ceiling and let out a long, contented sigh. Seven weeks. What a thought that was.

He turned over and wallowed in the self-satisfied knowledge that despite there being so much to look forward to, for now, on this first day, the plan was to do nothing but lie-in until eleven or even twelve noon. There was going to be plenty of time for all that other stuff. He had to be careful though. His Mum got in from work at quarter-past twelve, and if she were to catch Ben in bed at that time there would be hell to pay. This proved a little disconcerting as he lay all snug underneath his bed-clothes, because he didn't know what time it was. He yawned, stretched and reluctantly dragged himself from the warmth of his bed, reached for his jeans and t-shirt and pulled them on.

Most days Trevor would call round. Ben had first met Trevor more than eight years ago. On that fateful morning, whilst playing at the bottom of the alleyway that ran along the back of his house, Ben had seen Trevor for the first time. Ben´s mum told him never to cross the road at the bottom of the alleyway. It was f*******n, she said through gritted teeth. Ben never really knew why she seemed so concerned and this lent the road, and what might lie beyond, an almost mystical air. Across the tarmac was a fabled world, mysterious and unlike his own – of big houses with private driveways and lush gardens. Whereas Ben's house was a tiny, rented terrace, the houses on the other side were privately owned. They stood proud and strong, majestic mansions of old. Red-bricked, gabled roofs, ornamental front gardens that led to enormous entrance-ways out of which prim and proper people emerged, resplendent in expensive and fashionable clothes. Some even drove motor cars. From where did the money come for such luxuries, he often wondered. To Ben, across that narrow sliver of tarmac, a different world existed, one ripe for exploration. Perhaps that was the reason for his mum's command not to wander there. Whatever the truth, many a day he sat astride his trike and gazed longingly towards that unattainable land, letting his imagination fill in the gaps.

On that particular day, so long ago, as Ben peddled up and down on his trike with his usual enthusiasm, he'd spotted a shorthaired little boy on the other side, riding a two-wheel bicycle with a confident, almost arrogant ease. Ben stopped and stared in awe, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in disbelief. This new boy couldn't have been any older than him, sat astride a real bike – and without stabilizers! Emerging from one of those big houses, his well-scrubbed face and newly-pressed clothes spoke of parents who cared and had money to spend – mirrored in the gleaming newness of his bike as he rode up and down the pavement on the far side of the f*******n road.

He stopped all of a sudden, this sparkling boy, and stared directly towards Ben. A ghost of a smile crossed his face and Bern´s hand came up as if on its own volition. The stranger called over a greeting and the two struck up a conversation, shouting across to each other from opposite sides of the tarmac. It seemed so effortless, so easy, as if their friendship was already years old. They had so much in common, despite their obvious differences in wealth and privilege and from that point on they had become firm friends. Mum was approached and, after much pleading and begging, she allowed Ben to visit Trevor's house, which turned out to be a vast and sumptuous residence, with vaulted ceilings, wide corridors and rooms big enough, it seemed to Ben, to hold a herd of elephants. To rear sprawled a large garden with steps wending their way down to a little gate, a gate, Trevor explained, which always remained locked. Beyond, down another path, was a railway siding.

“Should we climb over?” asked Ben one day, checking first that no adults loomed close by.

“I'm not supposed to,” said Trevor, downcast, a little embarrassed.

“No one will know.”

A silent agreement, Trevor's eyes alive with expectation, and they climbed over the gate and entered a new world full of adventure and wonder. And, unlike the vagueness of the world 'across the road', this one proved truly wondrous.

The years went by and their friendship developed. True, like boys the world over, they'd had their arguments, their fights but they'd always made up again. Now, with the school holidays stretching ahead of them, Trevor first told Ben about Darley Dene.

“There's this bigger boy, lives a few doors down from me. His name's Neville. He went there a few days ago, with a g**g of others and they'd discovered a whole network of tunnels and caves just begging to be explored. He thought I might like to go and I said yes.”

“You said yes?”

“It'll be a laugh,” said Trevor enthusiastically, as he sat opposite Ben at the kitchen table.

Ben tucked into a huge bowl of cereal, savouring every delicious mouthful as if he hadn't eaten for days. As he munched down another huge spoonful, he eyed Trevor harshly. “I know Neville.”

“You know him? As a friend you mean?”

“Do me a favour, Trev. I know him from school. He's a year above me, like I'm a year above you. He got hold of me once, around the throat, said I was a whinger, a tell-tale, that my mum couldn't afford to buy me proper school shoes. All the usual stuff. He's a bully. He hates me and I hate him.”

“All the girls like him,” said Trevor, his eyes staring out into the distance. “They all hang around him in the playground, their eyes all dreamy, giggling pathetically whenever he makes some stupid remark, or farts.”

“He makes me sick.”

“He's not all bad, Ben.”

“To you maybe, but I think it's because I have a poor home life that he hates me so much, why he calls me a snivelling w**d. I don't know and I don't care.”

“I know he can be a bit – you know, dangerous. I've seen him in fights.”

“Yeah, and I've been on the end of it, him grabbing me, breathing his stinking breath all over me, telling me to give him all my money. There's a laugh – he has a go at me for not having good shoes, then he demands money. He's pathetic.”

“Yeah, but you've stood up to him.”

“And got a slap across the face for it – more than once too.” He looked down at the remains of his cereal and pushed the bowl away, sighing. “I'm not going if he's there.”

Trevor leaned across and touched Ben's arm, his eyes wide, pleading. “Paul will be there as well.”

Ben stared, twisting his mouth around, a little of the tension leaving his body. Paul was the total opposite to Neville. Kind, patient, clever, everyone at school looked up to him, treating him like some sort of hero. And Ben was no different. He knew the influence Paul had on Neville. Whenever he was around, Neville always refrained from his usual bullying. Victims always felt much safer whenever Paul was close by. The problem was, with his mum and dad splitting up, he usually kept himself to himself during any free time away from school. “Isn't he with his dad?”

“We're all on holiday, and his dad's at work all day,” said Trevor, “so he's with his mum most of the time.”

Nodding, Ben caught the eagerness in Trevor's eyes and smiled. “Well, if Paul's there, I will be too.”

Trevor gave a little whoop of delight and sprang to his feet. He delved into a cupboard under the sink and brought out a bottle of green cream soda, which he poured into two tumblers. He handed one across to his friend.

“So, it's just a load of twisting tunnels?” asked Ben, closing his eyes as the many tiny bubbles of gas sprang up from the glass and exploded on his face.

“You don't think that's exciting?” Trevor shook his head, looking sad that his friend was being so serious, perhaps even dull.

Ben drank and shrugged, “No, it's not that. But there's got to be something else there, hasn't there? To make it exciting. Where is it, and why's it called 'Darley Dene'?”

“Down the hill, and I don't know why it's called that, it just is. Why do you always have to get so boring about stuff? You always need to know all the details about everything.”

“I just like to know reasons, that's all. Like why Neville hates me so much.”

“God, Ben, not that again! Isn't it obvious? For the same reasons you hate him.”

“Why, because I've got a brain the size of a newt and I love smacking people in the face?”

“Don't be stupid.” He took a deep breath and when he continued, his voice was low, serious. “It's because you're clever and he's not. I heard all about it. He's jealous of you.”

“Jealous? Of me? Don't make me laugh.”

“It's true – he told me.”

“He told you?”

“He was put down a year, wasn't he – and who did he sit next to in class? You. And there you were, answering all the questions as if they were the easiest thing in the world.”

“God, is that what all this is about?” He blew out his breath, exasperated. “Trev, I can't help it if I'm good at maths and English. It's not my fault is it?”

“No, it's not your fault, but you could have handled it a bit better. Maybe helped him.”

“I didn't know why he was put down. He just appeared one day in our class, and I never asked him. He was so big, so … intimidating.” He shrugged again. “Anyway, I tried, I really did, Trev. I tried to show him how to do things, but he just got angry.”

“And then you laughed at him, didn't you, Ben? He told me, after that first day. We were walking home and he told me you laughed when he got something wrong.”

“I…I didn't mean to laugh at him. It was such a simple question – which was the biggest island in the world before Australia was discovered. He just looked at Mr. Woods and sort of gave up. Shrugged his shoulders.”

“So why did you laugh?”

“I wasn't the only one.”

“Well, maybe you weren't, but then you go and shout out the answer, before he's even had a chance to think about it.” Trevor closed his eyes. “You're different with him, Ben, and you don't even know it. It's almost as if you don't like him because you think he's thick.”

“That's not true.”

“It's what he thinks. He thinks you make fun of him, so he gets angry. But, like I said, the main thing is – he's jealous.”

“Jealous? So, he beats me up because he's jealous of me being clever? Great…I thought maybe it was because he's twice the size of me and loves to see me cry.”

Trevor sat back in his chair. “I like you Ben, and you're my friend, so I'll tell you what you need to do – you have to stand up to Neville more often, tell him how you feel and, if that doesn't work, tell him exactly what you think of him.”

Ben gave a short laugh. “I already tried that,” he said, “and I got a punch in the nose for my efforts.” He shook his head. “But if Paul is going, then things should be all right.”

“Yeah, and Paul wouldn't be going if it wasn't really interesting, would he? Paul is exactly like you, only older.”

“And about ten times bigger. Bigger than Neville at least. That's what it's all about, you know. When you think about it, all that really matters is how big you are. It doesn't matter if you're clever, it's not going to help you in a fight. I think I'm going to send away for that 'Charles Atlas' thing and develop a superhuman body.”

Trevor frowned at him for a moment, then burst into laughter, “Yeah, then you can hit him on the knee with your nose!”

“Or smack my eye into his fist.” They both screamed at this.

In between bouts of laughter, they hatched a plan and set off, like intrepid explorers, down the winding path. As they tramped along, Ben realized Trevor hadn't answered any of his questions about where they were going, but felt sure nothing would remain a mystery for long. As they neared 'Darley Dene', unbeknownst to Ben, more than the meaning and origins of its name awaited discovery. Soon, he would know the true meaning of terror.