Free Lost Lad by Narvel Annable Page A

amuse them with yet another 'Silver', Dobba sat down with the twins, Rex and Scott who were somewhat downcast, idly sunning in the playground.  It was the last day, Friday, July 22nd.   None of them had found jobs and none of them had looked very hard but different possibilities were discussed.  Ever teasing and mischievous, Brian said that Dobba would probably go far and achieve high status in a really important post -
                "Yo 'n be 'ead dustman, Dobba!"      
    He went on to sing Lonnie Donegan's 'My Old Man's a Dustman', knowing how it irritated his pal since this inane ditty had quickly reached number one in the Hit Parade - overtaking Dobba's beloved 'Maybe Tomorrow' by Billy Fury - which, to his deep chagrin and disbelief had, at best, struggled to reach number 18!  
               
    This banter was part of a mild cycle of teasing which they all enjoyed.  Popular records were a principal part of the popular culture.  Great loves and hates were formed and regularly disputed in passionate polemics such as when Brian, waving his 'New Musical Express', took malicious pleasure in telling Dobba that his much championed 'This Love I Have For You' by the young Lance Fortune was still languishing down the charts at number 26 - at the same time that the comedian, Ken Dodd, had just reached the dizzy heights of number eight with his (in Howittian terms) mawkish and mushy 'Love Is Like A Violin' - despised all the more by Dobba since hearing his Aunty Joyce sing it whilst pegging out clothes. 
                Lonnie Donegan, far too old at the unforgivable age of 29 and Ken Dodd, even older at 31 did not fit Dobba's image of gorgeous young pop stars.   
     
    When these acrimonious exchanges had subsided, Scott suggested that tomorrow he might have a ride up into the Peak and stay somewhere to be able to explore the area for a few days.  Rex, who had once cycled up to Buxton [and back in one day] with Scott, immediately enthused about an expedition to the uncharted Far North.  This self-invitation was accepted.  Dobba was elated when Scott asked him if he and the twins were interested in coming as well.  The mood had now become more hopeful. 
     
    That last afternoon, lessons were abandoned and leaving Howittians were allowed to listen to popular records on the old school gramophone played in the canteen.  People had little to say to each other.  They were reflective and introspective.  These last hours were sad with sweet, sensuous melancholia, as staff and pupils heard the nasal strains of Adam Faith singing 'From Now Until Forever' with pizzicato strings - a silver sound for a blue mood.  It was played several times, echoing through that large long room: simple words with a simple message of love, hope, companionship and the passing of a lifetime. 
                "As the years go rolling by, I'll turn to you and sigh ... "
    A portentous song of separation foreshadowing many divergent paths into the unknown. 
                And then it came - the final dismissal. 
     
    Reluctantly and slowly walking up to the bicycle wall, the four were receiving instructions from their leader regarding the Big Trip.  Scott and the twins who lived in Heanor would pick up Rex who lived in Horsley Woodhouse two miles to the west -
                "Dobba ad betta be at Rex's ass [house], or we'll go we out 'im!"   It made good sense, but, at that moment, a cultured voice chimed in with -
                "Have you given any thought to your accommodation?"
     
    This was the English master, Mr Matthewman who had over-heard bits of this proposed journey and, as an experienced scout and scoutmaster, was a little concerned about the inadequate planning.  Five respectful faces turned to hear more.  He pointed out that on the steep hills of the Peak, Brian, Danny and Simeon, inexperienced cyclists, would not find the ride as easy as the more beefy Rex and