The Secret Caverns
of Black Rose Jed

CHAPTER ONE

A Penny for your thoughts.

        James was a pretty boy .... no doubt about that ... beautiful hazel eyes that could see into your soul ... long black eyelashes ...  natural ash blond hair ... ... small in stature ...  slim, no, perhaps wiry would be a better description ... as fit as a butcher's dog ... fed on red meat and big on attitude ... with an insatiable appetite for all things new which attracted the girls like pussycats to catnip .... and perhaps we should also mention at this point ... still a virgin.

      Celebrating his eighteenth birthday ... and still a virgin?

     Well, not strictly speaking, there had been that one time when he was fifteen and had been plied with strong liquor by this older 'put-it-about-a-lot' woman who had led him astray and had had her wicked way with him down some dark back alleyway.
      He wasn't impressed. He couldn't understand how putting one's pride and joy into something so dry, rough and flaky could possibly result in the fabulous mind-blowing sexual ecstasy that his mates were always raving on about. Luckily for James they were interrupted quite quickly by another couple who practically fell over them in the dark and his misery was short-lived.
       It wasn't until much later that he realized how lucky he had been not to catch a severe dose of the Galloping Clap from this wayward dirty old woman, but the immediate result of this unfortunate experience was to put him off repeating such unpleasantness with any other girl, for quite some time.
       That woman had a lot to answer for ruining his sex life at so young an age, and depriving a lot of other young ladies of their rightful enjoyment.
      Some girls must have thought he was 'queer' because he would get them all worked up, wetting themselves, and all to eager to consummate the liaison, then he would suddenly say, "Thank you for a wonderful evening," pick up his bat and ball and go home, leaving them all frustrated and wondering what the hell was going on here, but he was just off to keep himself well in hand, if you know what I mean?
      But let's face it, rampant hormones can't be denied forever and some young lady was definitely going to take James in hand soon enough and show him that his mates were right after all ... it was only a matter of time and of letting nature take its course.
        And the fates conspired together to produce the solution to his problem in the form of a salubrious young lady, called Penny, who visited the office where he worked as a draughtsman, and by all accounts his day of redemption should be coming soon.

        Every day without fail the delicious Penny would travel from drawing office to drawing office delivering blueprints, in much the same way as those blonde dolly-birds would drive from car repair shop to car repair shop delivering their spare motor parts, and driving the local mechanics crazy, with their skimpy uniforms.
        And every day Penny would stop off for a quick canoodle with James in the privacy of the store cupboard in the printing room. Nothing deep down and dirty ... much to Penny's regret ... as they were far too likely to be caught in any knickers-off situation, but they got in as much heavy petting and fondling as they could muster, in the limited time they had together.
        James was quite adept at getting a young lady's motor started, the problem came about with his not getting around to engaging the clutch, and Penny was beginning to realise this ... after all, how many times did she have to leave the store cupboard with knickers wet enough to put out a house fire, and never getting to play with a hose-pipe.

         "It was my birthday yesterday," James interjected as he came up for air between bouts of head-spinning snogging at one of their daily sessions.
           "Aw, and I never got you a present, how old are you then, lover boy, seventeen?"
           "Eighteen actually, I look younger than I am because of my healthy lifestyle ... and having to ride my push-bike all the way from Baycliffe Island into work every day keeps me fighting fit."
      "Did you get what you wanted for your birthday?" she purred.
    "No I didn't ... I'm still working on it ... or should I say I'm working on you, my brown-eyed brown-haired beauty," he intimated, moving his hands up inside her spotlessly white blouse, and slipping it back over her shoulders, and then sliding her bra off those pert pear-shaped breasts, so he could revel in the velvet smoothness of her baby soft skin.
     Her small but hard nipples yielded to his caress and Penny responded with thoughts of: "Here we go again, all wet knickers, and no chance of getting his clothes off, damn it, I really am going to have to take the lead here."
          "The problem is," she said, feeling his hardness pressing against her body, "that you live way out on the Island and I live way over the other side of the town. We are never going to get it together at this rate, and you won't be getting your birthday present, will you?" She rubbed up against him in no uncertain manner and he nearly came right there and then, on the spot.
         He began to wonder if his aching balls was synonymous with all frustrated teenagers who couldn't get their end away.

          "Are you on holiday, next week, same as us lesser workers, or are you superior Drawing Office staff different?" Penny asked, rearranging her clothing to its work-a-day style, and getting ready to continue her travels round the various offices.
            "I'm on holiday, same as you."
            "Then why don't you come over to Yorkshire with me and stay with my friends?  There's about a dozen of us. We usually meet up there every weekend at a little village called  Ingleton in the Dales, but most of us are on holiday next week. We call ourselves the Happy Ramblers," she said, fumbling in her blouse pocket to produce a hand embroidered badge.
            "I made this myself," she said, proudly, "actually it's the Happy Ramblers Climbing and Potholing Club, to give it it's Sunday name,"  she laughed.

        "The rope's for climbing, the ladder's for going down caves and the book was the original Potholer's Bible which listed all the known caves ... from way back goodness knows when."
         "So, what do you think ... are you coming to Ingleton with me for your birthday present ... or what?" she pouted promisingly.
       "Sounds very ... interesting," James smiled back at a beaming Penny, "and just what would I need to bring with me, besides this sexy young body and some money?"
        "Bring some spare underwear and a big smile," Penny laughed, "we always eat at Ernie's Café, and I have a double sleeping bag and a tent, so there's no problem about where or who you're sleeping with ... sound good?"
            "Sounds good to me ... so, we are meeting up at Ernie's Café in this Ingleton village on Saturday, and you promise to give me my special birthday present," he laughed.
           "I'm really looking forward to giving you one," she retorted wickedly as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and quietly exited the Print Room to carry on with her deliveries. 
           James picked up some drawings and sidled back to his board in the office, trying to look both inconspicuous and busy at the same time.
            "I hope you're giving her one by now," his overseer barked as he shuffled past, in a voice the whole office could hear, seeing as they all knew about his exploits anyway.
             James went red with embarrassment and tried to hide his anguish by unfolding the drawings and hiding behind them.
             "Ah well," the voice floated over his shield, "better luck tomorrow." A Mexican wave of good natured laughter rippled down the office, as he tried to crawl under his drawing board.
            His exploits were, after all, one of the highlights of an otherwise boring day for most of the older men in the office, and although they were a bit envious, he was a likeable enough lad and they all wished him well, and some of them wished they were him, and some of the girls in the office wished they were her.

             After work James cycled back towards Baycliffe Island  and called in to see Mr Butler, a local fisherman who he knew drove his van to Lancaster every Saturday morning to deliver the shrimps and cockles he had harvested throughout the week on the tidal sands around Baycliffe Island.
             These Morecambe Bay delicacies were eaten with relish by the hungry tourists who flocked to the Northern seaside towns of Morecambe, Fleetwood, Blackpool and Lytham-St-Annes in their thousands during the holiday season.
             James had spent many a happy hour on Mr Butler's tractor trawling the shallow gullies of the Bay with drag nets for the shrimp and langoustine lobsters which provided the farmer-cum-fisherman with the now much needed revenue after the "Foot and Mouth" fiasco had devastated all the local farms last year, and bankrupted many tenant farmers.

              Competition was fierce, however, from the hoards of  illegal immigrant cockle pickers who had descended on the tranquil-looking Bay to exploit the bountiful harvest, for the little cash money that the gang bosses begrudgingly paid to them.

              Day and night they came, in all weathers, most of them totally oblivious to the danger of being cut off on a sandbank by fast rising tides and subsequently downed, especially on a dark stormy night. All the locals knew this was a catastrophe just waiting to happen.

               Still, James had always felt safe with Mr Butler who knew every nook and cranny of the ever-changing Bay, and had always treated her moody ways with the utmost respect.

            It was Mr Butler who had shown a much younger James how to tread for flat-fish with his bare feet in the shallow rock pools. Flat-fish? That's Plaice to you ... or Flukes as they were called by the locals ... but actually they were two distinct species ... Plaice had orange spots and Fluke hadn't ... not that it mattered to anyone ... except maybe another Plaice, and of course the Trading Standard Officials who wouldn't let the fishermen sell Flukes. Plaice yes ...Flukes no.
             Well, everybody ate Plaice and Chips on holiday, and Trading Standards went to a great deal of expense to make sure that is exactly what they got, wasn't it? The local fishermen used to take great delight in scraping the spots off a Plaice and putting it in with some Flukes and asking the official to pick it out, which they never could, of course ... as the only way to tell the difference was with the spots. Needless to say the locals ate the Flukes because they were all the same kind of fish.
          The outcome of all this, however, was for James to reach the conclusion, at a very early age, that most officials were pen pushing bureaucrats who hadn't a bloody clue about real life and weren't fit to shovel manure when it came down to it.
          James decide he liked real people ... with real skills ... who didn't rely on this 'Big Brother' Politically Correct government for a living but made it in the world with their own two hands ... people like Mr Butler... and the Happy Ramblers, those climbers and potholers, they were doers ... and he was sure he was going to like them.
           His late father had once said, "Those that can do, lad, and those that can't pen push for this commie government and kiss ass for a living. So be a doer, son."

           Mr Butler said: "Of course I'll give you a lift to Lancaster on Saturday, young James, but remember I will be setting off at about four o'clock in the morning to get to the fish market bright and early. And I can arrange a lift with my mate Bill Fowler to take you the rest of the way up the Dales to Ingleton when he goes back over to Settle with the fish for his market stall."
          'It's a done deal,' thought James and he said: "Thank you, Mr Butler, I'll be at your farm at 4am, sharp."
           Mr Butler said: "No problem ... now I suppose you'll be off home to take your dog Tornado for a walk along the beach, as an excuse to go bird watching, and by bird watching I mean ogling those topless young ladies who hang out on the far side of the Island."
            "But of course," James grinned, "there are birds and then, there are birds" and he cycled off along the causeway out to Baycliffe Island, where he lived alone with his mother, who was the live-in warden for the Wildlife Nature Reserve.

            Frequent signs left no doubt that this was a .....

WILDLIFE RESERVE

RESTRICTED ACCESS

Permit Holders Only

All dogs must be kept on a lead

by Order of            
                W R Wilkinson              
                                      Cumbria County Council              

           However, this had not deterred a group of local naturists from taking over a secluded beach on the remote far end of the Island where they would bathe topless in the warm Summer sunshine, at every opportunity that presented itself.

         James arrived home to be greeted by a whirlwind of excited barking dog who threatened to knock him off his bicycle, as she hurled herself at her young master, with unrestrained joy.
         A huge 'brick-outhouse' of a dog, half Alsatian, half God knows what, hairy beyond belief with a huge red mane, like some African lion, and as daft as a brush with two handles.

           "Soft as putty with people," James thought, "lick them to death, but put so much as one foot inside our house, or one finger on my mum ... and you'd get it bitten off in a trice."
             "That's our Tornado," he mused, "what a dog."
            James yelled: "Get down, Tornado, you daft dog, you're going to knock me bum-over-elbow, again," but Tornado took absolutely no notice whatever until her mother appeared at the cottage door.
           "Sit!" she ordered, and Tornado promptly did just that, mentally straining at the leash in every fibre with her desire to jump on James, but not daring to disobey the boss lady, the undisputed leader of the pack.
            "Hi mum," said James putting his bike away in the shed.
            "Your tea will be ready in about an hour," his mum smiled, "so can you take Tornado for her walk and check on those 'bird-hides' for me up on the north end of the Island, there's a good love, and don't you go talking to those 'nudie' people, they shouldn't be there and I don't want you encouraging them, ok?"
            "Right mum." said James, wondering why his mum needed a huge battle-wagon of a dog like Tornado around for protection when he wasn't there ... 'cos hell ... "his mum could scare the 'bejeezus' out of any would-be intruder with a single glance."
          "Oh, by the way mum, some friends have asked me to go on holiday with them in Yorkshire next week ... will you be alright here on your own?"
          "Of course I will, love, off you go and enjoy yourself, I have our Tornado to keep me company, and your Aunt Florence will be bringing the kids and their friends over to go swimming, so I'll have my hands full, and I've also got to finish off all that damned paperwork on this year's nesting statistics, as well ... boy am I really looking forward to that  ... hmmm?"
         "Thanks mum," said a relieved James, "come on Tornado let's go chase some seagulls" and Tornado burst into furious action.
          His mother laughed at the ridiculous thought of Tornado ever catching a seagull.   "She couldn't catch one if it was nailed down to the sand", she chortled, but by the same token her beloved Tornado wasn't allowed out during Springtime nesting, unless she was on a tight lead.

           They walked together along the deserted pebble beach, a young man and his dog, soaking up the solitude and the warm Summer sunshine.
            Well, by together I mean James beach-combed the tide line to see what the morning's tide had washed up on the beach while Tornado was attempting to beat the land speed record by hurtling around the sandy flats chasing seagulls, who, being old hands at this game, simply waited until the last minute before lifting effortlessly into the air a few feet in front of her frantic barking and then drifting back down to earth behind her.
          James laughed as he watched the dog going through her daily work-out and then he noticed a black speck low down on the horizon, way out to sea.
         "Heh, Tornado," he yelled, "here comes your namesake."
         "WAROOOOOMPH" ... a low flying RAF Tornado fighter jet plane roared directly overhead, so low that James was sure he could have just reached up and touched it.

          "WAROOOOOMPH" ... another one closely followed while Tornado the dog made desperate attempts at jumping into the air in a futile attempt to catch one of these new big noisy seagulls.
           Morecambe Bay and the Irish Sea were part of the RAF's  training area for low-flying jet fighters and out here on the sandy flats they could come right down on the deck as low as they wanted, whenever they wanted and wherever they wanted.
           Blowing pebbles off the beach on Baycliffe Island with their afterburners was all part of the fun and there were times when James could swear that they would buzz him on purpose, especially as they sometimes gave him a wave as they thundered past, a spit's throw above his head.
            The planes were out every day ... same old routine ... one trying desperately to get away from its companion chase planes who was equally determined to catch up and shoot it down.
           "Do you remember the time that F-117 Nighthawk stealth fighter came over," James asked the dog out loud, "never did figure out what a night-flying stealth fighter was doing out in broad daylight but our lads were all over him like flies on rotten meat."

          "Did he say meat?" thought Tornado, raising her ears and looking at James with those big brown soulful eyes.
         James' cousin, Edward, who was an aircraft fanatic, thought they were probably checking the radar cover over the North-West Region at BAE Wharton Radar, where the company was manufacturing the Tornado aircraft and the new Euro fighters.
            The noise of latent power faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving James with a very hard decision to make.
           He thought: "Do I go for a swim down in the rock pools, if one can call my being able to stay afloat for a few minutes being able to swim, or do I go up to the 'bird-hide' and watch the topless 'nudies' through the telescope?"
           "Gosh, that's a very hard decision to make," he reckoned, already heading off in the direction of the 'bird-hide'.

           The 'bird-hide' was on the side of a sand dune overlooking the salt flats which were one the primary feeding sites for migratory sea-birds in mid-Winter, but this was mid-Summer and the only birds on the beach now were wearing bikini briefs and very little else.
            James located the key to the equipment locker, hidden above the door to the 'hide' ... how novel ... and took out the 100x magnification telescope.
            Putting it in it's slot in one of the windows he quickly focused it and ... Bingo ... a bevy of beautiful topless beach babes came into view ... but not quite as clear as he would have liked.
          "These lenses need cleaning," he complained.
 

 
         They say if you've got it ... flaunt it ... well these girls had certainly got it and weren't too shy about flaunting it, either.
           It wasn't as though they would have minded if he had gone down on the beach and joined them ... he was sorely tempted but if his mum found out he would be in deep manure.  It would be paramount to his consorting with the enemy.
           He couldn't recognise any of them, carefully going from group to group, so as not to miss any detail, lingering on some more than others. Well, I mean to say, which red-bloodied horny teenage male wouldn't have done exactly the same?
 

         "They're not locals, not these beauties," he thought, "word must have spread about the 'nudie' beach and they are coming here from all over the place for their holidays."
           "Ye gods," he mouthed, "mother's going to love that."
          After finally getting bored with looking at all those bare tits, and not really getting aroused enough to do anything about it, if you know what I mean, James packed up the telescope in the locker, and put the key back in its hidey-hole.
          "Come on, Tornado, we're off," he yelled at a sand-covered dog who was trying to dig her way all the way down to China after chasing some rabbit into a hole ... a rabbit, no doubt, that was surely long gone by now, through the back door of the warren.

          The tide had come in as they wandered back along the beach for their tea, each deep in thought, Tornado with her rabbits, and James imagining what his birthday present off of our Penny might be, when they were both rudely interrupted.
      "WAROOOOOMPH" ... a Tornado came from the landward side of the Island and made him jump ... as well as kicking up swirls of dust and dead grass all down the beach

        "God, he really is low," he exploded to no one in particular, "they must be getting really serious about something or other."
          Mum was waiting to greet them when they got back home, and they all retreated into the kitchen where the smell of home cooking wafted like a warm blanket over James.
          James said: "Smells good, mum."
          "Doesn't it always... did you see all those planes today?"
          "Yes, mum, a lot more than usual."
         "They're up to something, mark my words, there's going to be another war somewhere, you can bet on it, probably going to bomb that militant El Queda lot again, and very soon."
         "You're probably right mum" he said. She usually was.
         "Did you check the 'bird-hide'?"
         "Yes, mum, everything was ok."
         "Did you talk to those 'nudie' people?"
         "No, mum, but there was a lot them on the beach."
         "Did you finish your homework for the college?"
         "Yes, mum, and I will tidy my room and get everything ship-shape and Bristol-fashion for when I leave on Saturday."
          "How are you getting there?"
          "Mr Butler is taking me but I need to be up at 3-30am."
          "I'll set the alarm and make sure you get up."
          "Thanks, mum I appreciate that."
          "And I'll put you some spare underpants out, and socks, and don't forget your toothbrush, and remember to keep your willie in your pants where it belongs."
          "Mum," cringed James, as he flushed bright red, a condition to which he seemed quite prone lately, and one which told his wise old mum that he was still a virgin.

           James beat a hasty retreat to the safety of his room and switched on his computer to go on to the internet and swot up on climbing and caving and such.
         'Now it says here .... stalagmites grow upwards and stalactites grow downwards ...  and helictites grow sideways.'
           "Well that's easy enough," he thought, "the mites go up and the tites come down, and hell's when one bites your back-side."
            He gleaned a lot of information on the science of caves, or Speleology, as some referred to it, and about Speleologists, the posh name for cavers and potholers.
            "From the Greek, spelaion = cave" he noted.

            "Pity there isn't somewhere I could learn the facts-of-life as easily," he thought, not daring to try the porn channels again, because last time he had done that he had gotten into one of these scam porn sites that wouldn't let him get out again ... every time he clicked the close button it threw up five more sites on the screen.  He had to pull the power plug on the computer in the end and then reboot it ... and then it took him hours to delete all the spy scam porn cookies off his hard drive before his mother could find out what he had been up to ... once bitten twice shy.
           "And that facts-of-life talk we had when I was at school was laughable," he winced at the memory, "with old Mr Privy, the Head Master getting all us Fifth Form boys into a room and giving us a twenty minute lesson, with illustrations, on, this is a girl's vagina and this is a boy's penis ... and if you poke your finger up your anus and stimulate your prostrate gland all sorts of fluids will drip from the end of your penis, and its all very nice, and you don't need a girl there to do that?" and he had smirked as he said it and looked for all the world like some exhibitionist flasher in a dirty old raincoat who had just exposed himself.
          "What?" James couldn't believe what he'd heard.
         "He just said stick your finger up your bum," a fellow school chum had whispered, giggling away in a demented fashion
          James' young mind had just boggled at that and all the other lads in the class had looked .. shocked .. bemused .. astounded ... bewildered ... baffled ... dumbfounded ... quite at a loss what to think.
           "What the hell was that all about?" the lads had murmured one to one another, "is old Privy a 'poofter' or what?"
           All in all young James had not scored very highly in the joyful arts of getting it away where girls were concerned ... bloody disaster to be honest ... but hopefully as from Saturday all that was going to change ... for the better ... when Penny delivered on his birthday present.

            Roll on Saturday.

CHAPTER TWO

Ernie's Café.

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              It was still dark when James set off for Mr Butler's Farm, mum had made him some breakfast, "Bless her," and Tornado had stayed curled up in her basket with one disdainful eye peeping over the edge, watching his every move, for all the world saying, "It's the middle of the night, for woof's sake, what does a dog have to do to get some sleep round here?"

              "Put your bike in the barn, James, and we're off," said a bright and cheerful Mr Butler, him being a farmer and him being used to getting up at such a 'god-damn' unearthly hour.
              The trip to Lancaster was pretty uneventful, there being very little traffic about at this time of the morning, but this all changed when they pulled into the Fish Market courtyard and had to fight their way through a host of vans, and people, loading and unloading, scurrying here and there, a bit like Piccadilly Circus at rush hour.
          Mr Butler said: "Give us a hand with these, young James,"  in the typical farmer's way of thinking: "Seeing as you're here, you might as well earn your keep," and James helped him unload the shellfish on to a long counter top.
             "There's a café over there, look, under the stairway, go get yourself a cup of tea and a read of the paper while I get your lift to Ingleton sorted out with Bill Fowler, I've just seen him come in."
             It was cheery in the café, bright lights and people coming in and out. James got in the queue, ordered a tea, took it over to a vacant table, picked up the newspaper which was lying on it, and looked at the front page.
             "The War on Terrorism Continues," screamed the headline, with forecasts of gloom and doom all round, damned if we go to war, damned if we don't, 'Are the terrorists making a dirty Atomic Bomb to use on Britain?'
 

              James, being overly-wise for his age, had long ago reached the conclusion that newspapers contained very little news anymore and would hype anything up, just to sell the newspaper, so he took most of what he read with a pinch of salt, well it was obvious that the papers never ever said "they are", it always asked "are they?" and concluded it was all 'Bollocks'.

              The weather forecast was good, an anti-cyclone centred over the British Isles would give fine sunny weather for at least a week,  'And a week is all I need,' thought James, 'let's hope the weather forecaster knows what he's doing,' remembering the time when one forecaster had said: "There definitely won't be a hurricane over night," but by morning half the Southern Counties had been flattened and a million trees uprooted.
             Typical modern teenager, our young James, one minute he was as worldly wise and cynical as they come, and next minute he was as gullible as a monkey with its hand stuck in a fruit jar because it hasn't got the brains to let go of the fruit and unclench its fist, but I suppose that's how it has always been with young people, they just lacked experience, and experience was something that James was going to get, 'in spades' as they say, over the coming week, but he didn't know it yet. 

               Bill Fowler was a real character, a blunt speaking gregarious Yorkshire man with a fish stall on Settle Market. He kept James entertained with his ample wit and local dialect all the way over to Yorkshire and Ingleton village.
              None the less Bill was a very shrewd businessman and as he dropped him off in the village his parting words to James were: "If tha does art far nart, James, doit fer thissen," which James roughly translated as "If you do anything for nothing, James, do it for yourself," which James thought was rather odd because Bill had just give him a lift to Ingleton for nothing.
             "Perhaps these stereotype characters of penny-pinching Scotsmen, the sheep-shagging Welshmen, and these tight-fisted Yorkshire men were just so much hype as well," he said to himself, as he rounded a corner and saw a bright illuminated sign which read ..

Ernie's Café
Run by cavers for cavers.

        It was just striking 9am on the church clock as James approached the door, and heard it being unlocked from inside by a tall athletic-looking man, who, not expecting anyone to be poised on his doorstep, quipped: "You're bright and early!"
           "And you're Ernie."
           I think they took a liking to one another from that very first moment, as Ernie ushered him into the café, and pointed to the menu board up the wall, which, despite its size, was lost in a blizzard of caving photos and equipment which hung festooned from every available vantage point.
           An attractive blonde lady appeared from the kitchen, and smiled at him, "You're bright and early."
           James grinned at her, "Yes, and you are?"
           "I'm Janine, his better half," she nodded at Ernie who was tidying up some ropes that hung over the counter, "want a full breakfast, young man?" she asked, establishing the ground rules that she was in charge here, "or beans on toast, perhaps?"
          "Yes, please, full breakfast, I'm starving," said James, thinking to himself:  'It's six hours since I had my first breakfast, no wonder I feel hungry, and I like it here already, this lady is just like a younger version of my mum,' ... "Oh, and I'm James."

           He was tucking into a huge plate of ... well ... everything that could possibly be fried ... when Ernie came across.
            "Going walking?"
            "Probably, but I'm really in here to meet up with the Happy Ramblers, do you know them?"
             "Oh yes, they come in here every weekend, have been doing for some time now .. nice lot .. bit over the top sometimes .. but, what the hell .. you're only young once," Ernie sighed ruefully, giving the impression that despite his athletic stature he was not as fit as he used to be, a twinge of rheumatism creeping in, perhaps?
            "When do they come in?"
           "Usually come in about ten o' clock, but they won't be in until teatime today, because, I heard they are doing something over Malham way, don't know what, climbing the Cove, I think, bloody nutters that they are, I wouldn't put it past them," he smiled, admiring their audacity.

            "You remind me of someone, James, I just can't put my finger on it, Janine," he yelled towards the kitchen, and when she appeared, "the lad reminds me of someone but I can't put my finger on it, you've a good memory for faces, any idea?"
             "I thought that myself," she confided, looking at James with those same all-knowing eyes that his mum had, "ye gods, he's the spitting image of Black Rose Jed in your photograph."
            "You're spot on, old girl," he said with admiration and affection, "he is the spitting image of Black Rose Jed."
            "Black Rose Jed?" James was a little afraid to ask, the name conjuring up images of Black Beard the Pirate or someone just as infamous.
           "The Secret Caverns of Black Rose Jed are the most famous legend in these parts, James, people have been looking for them for over fifty years,"  Ernie told him, "and Jed was the pioneer potholer of his day, the best ever at finding new caves, nobody could hold a candle to Black Rose Jed."
          "A proper Speleologist," chipped in James trying to impress him with his new-found knowledge, courtesy of the Internet.
          "Go wash your mouth out with carbolic soap," Ernie exploded, "Black Rose Jed would turn in his grave to be called a Speleologist, he was a Potholer through and through, only those half-baked naff-head  Americans used the term Speleologist or maybe some daft school teacher who doesn't know any better."
         "We are all potholers up North, lad, we even refer to those pansy Southerners as cavers, just to keep them in their place ... we have potholes up North, let me tell you, great gaping chasms in the ground that go down to Hell itself, not piddling little excuses for a cavern like they have down South," he grinned at James to show him he wasn't being all that serious.  
         "Take no notice of me, James, we Northern potholers have a chip on each shoulder, it's the only way to keep a balanced outlook on life," he laughed at his own joke, "let's face it,  you've got to be a bit of a nutter in the first place to dangle hundreds of feet down a damp black hole on the end of a bit of thin rope."
           "So, this Black Rose Jed was a legend eh?" James beamed, sort of quite liking the idea that he looked like a famous legendary hero.     
            "Black Rose Jed was years ahead of his time,"  Ernie told a now fully enthralled James, who now hung on every word.
            "Instead of burning his name on the wall of a cave with a carbide light flame to show where he'd been, or using a lighted candle to write his name with the soot from the flame, he used to carry these little enamelled metal discs with a black rose  on them .... like this one I have here,"  he pointed up above the counter, above a rainbow of coloured ropes, "it used to be black on white ... but after 50 years it's gone yellow with age."

           "Can I see it?" said James, really meaning, "Can I hold it?"
           "Sorry, ... these discs are as rare as hen's teeth, and I've got it screwed down to stop it going walkies when I'm not looking. There are plenty of people who wouldn't think twice about nicking my little pride and joy for their own collection ... you can come and have a closer look, if you want."
            James duly complied and gave the disc the once over, after getting permission to actually touch it. It felt very cold to the touch, well of course it would, stands to reason, metal is cold to the touch.
           "See what you mean about it going yellow with age, and there's a bit of rust showing through on the edges as well."
            "He didn't put them down every cave," Ernie added, "only those caves, or extensions to other caves, which he had found himself ... y'know, the new bits, unsullied by vandalism."
          "Find one of these discs and you're definitely into something new, that's for sure ... he was one hell-of-an explorer, was that lad, and he always went off on his own."
         "Would have been a legend in his own lifetime, but he disappeared one day. Just went out and never came back, so they tell me," he added, "way back before my time, of course."
        "As I recall the story, there was an earthquake that day which shook the whole of Ingleton, especially round the church where his childhood sweetheart was buried ... oh yes ... the bells started ringing on their own ... some say that Black Rose Jed had finally dug his way right down into Hell, but never the less ... he never came back ... no one has seen hide nor hair of him from that day to this, and we're talking fifty years ago."
         "Occasionally, very occasionally, we get someone coming in with a disc, and they are usually really pissed off that Black Rose Jed had got into that new cave before them."
         He paused and giggled like a little schoolboy reading a comic, "Hell, he was in there ... before they were even born."
           "I keep offering to buy them, but they always go all coy on me and suddenly the disc is more important to them than finding that new cave ... which they weren't the first to find, anyway."
           "There's nowt as queer as folk," Ernie sighed, "but I haven't heard of a disc being found for some years now ... maybe they've all been found by now, but I doubt it."
           "Did you find this one then?" asked James.
          "No such luck, it was brought in to the café by a council worker who found it when they were working on some road drains that had collapsed ... up on the Waterfalls Walk it was ... after a heavy thunderstorm."
           "It cost me dear, that little souvenir." 
         "And the photograph, in the frame, next to it, with the waterfall?" James enquired, "the old faded one, I presume that is this Black Rose Jed character."

         "That's the only known photo of Black Rose Jed down Weathercold Cave. I really only put it up there to annoy those toffee-nosed geeks from Cravenford Pothole Club. They think they're God's gift to caving, the pillocks, but even they can't get to go down Weathercold Cave anymore... nobody can now."

           "That photo was taken in an age when no one had ever heard of 'political correctness' or the sick 'compensation culture' and a knock by a caver on a farmer's door was all that was needed for permission for them to visit any cave.
          This all ended when someone was given permission to explore the Weathercold Cave - and then they went somewhere that they shouldn't have - and they got squashed flat by a falling rock - and their relatives sued the owner of the place for a vast amount of money - for showing the warm-hearted generosity that one associates with Yorkshire folk - the townie bastards."
            Ernie seldom swore which high-lighted the seriousness of the matter, "So now, of course, no one is allowed anywhere near the Cave, and other landowners, and farmers are now very reluctant to let people on their land for fear of being prosecuted - and who can blame them?"             
            "And that drawing," James enquired, attempting to calm the suddenly tense atmosphere by rapidly changing the subject, "I presume that has something to do with it, as well."

         "Supposed to be Black Rose Jed exploring his caverns, but I very much doubt it," Ernie said, "okay so it's very old but it's probably way before his time, a hundred years or more before his time, at least. They've been exploring potholes round here since time began."
            "And the other picture," James enquired, "I presume that's the same or is that the real McCoy?"
             "You can bet your last penny on it," Ernie asserted, "that's a genuine 'pen and ink' drawing of Black Rose Jed down the Secret Caverns ... or as some would have me believe ... it's the Pillar Chamber in Clapham Cave ... but they only say that so they can get their hands on my picture ... but they must think I was born yesterday ... I know it's real."

        "How's that then," asked James, pushing his luck.
         Ernie bridled: "I just know it, alright?"
      "Good enough for me," said James, beating a strategic withdrawal in the face of the such fervent testimony.
         "It's very old," said Ernie, softening his stance a little.
          "Yes, you can see that, it's going brown at the edges."
         "The black ink has faded to brown, and you only get that with very old drawings, right?"
          "Right," said James, "it must be unique."
         "Yes, and one day some caver is going to find that pillar, I just know they will, and who'll have the last laugh then, eh?"
          "I guess you will Ernie, but tell me something, why was he called Black Rose Jed, what was that all about."
           "Oh, that's a sorry tale and no mistake," sighed Ernie.

      "I guess it all came about when his childhood sweetheart met with a tragic accident and died a few weeks before they were to be married. Pretty young thing she was, and they were devoted to one another. Rumour has it that Jed gave her a single red rose as a token of his everlasting love, on a cold winter's evening after they had been out together, at the local Cinema. Jed walked his sweetheart home, she was still living with her parents of course, in those days, and she retired to bed and put the rose on her bedside table, in a vase of water. It was cold, so she lit the gas fire, which must have gone out during the night, and the gas was still escaping. She died peacefully in her sleep, but when they found her in the morning, the red rose had turned to jet-black. They say the gas did it, but that was a strange to-do and no mistake."
          "Jed was inconsolable, and spent all of his time trying to find a  natural underground tomb that would be worthy of being the final resting place of his one true love. Some say he had found it in the Secret Caverns, others say they are just a myth, time will tell ... but they buried his sweetheart in the local church yard ... and now, can I get you another mug of tea?" he said, a clear indication that he considered he had talked long enough about Black Rose Jed and that subject was exhausted.

            "So, Ernie, I'm going to have to find something to do until the Happy Ramblers get here, at tea time,  any ideas about what I can do ... is there anything around here worth seeing?"
             "Of course there is, don't you know that Ingleton is the centre of the Dales as far as tourists are concerned, we have waterfalls to see, mountains to climb, and White Scar Caves, the longest show cave in the country, and there are plenty of tourist shops in the village, not that they are going to interest a young lad like you that much."
              "How far are the waterfalls then?"
            "About a four mile round trip, very picturesque," he pointed at a picture on the wall advertising the Waterfalls Walk

and his memory brought the waterfalls to life. 

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              "Too far," groaned James, "I was up at three thirty this morning and I'm a bit knackered, how far are the mountains?"
            "Well Ingleborough's nearest but it's about four miles away and half a mile high," laughed Ernie, pointing at another photo on the wall, "so I guess that's out as well?"

             "And the Show Cave?" James knew the answer already.
             "A four mile round trip, and that's not including a couple of miles down the cave," Ernie said, pointing at yet another photo stuck up on the wall, "have you got any transport?"

              "No, so I guess I'll go shopping then," sighed James.

               "You could always do George's Old Cave," remembered Ernie, "that's only just up the hill here, and it's quite pretty, from all accounts, an old show cave, easy peasy."
           "You can't be sending him off caving on his own," Janine intruded from behind the counter, where she had been ear-wigging, "he might look like Black Rose Jed but he's still wet behind the ears as far as caving is concerned."
             "He'll be fine, Janine, it's a doddle, it used to be a show cave, simple walking all the way, no pitches, nowhere to fall down, I'll give him two lights, one spare in case the other fails, a helmet to protect his noggin,  and the basic rules before he goes, the very worst that could happen to him is getting a bit wet when he gets up to the waterfall."
            "It has a waterfall, underground?" asked an expectant James, getting all excited at going caving, albeit on his own.
             "Well, he'd best be very careful, I don't want to have to tell his mum you sent him underground on his own," she fussed, going back into the kitchen.

              "They do go on," confided Ernie, quietly, "but she's right, if you're going caving on your own you must be very careful, and you can start by putting this candle and matches in your pocket as an extra safeguard.  Up at White Scar Show Caves they say that Christopher Long, who found the place in, when was it? ... 1929, I think? ... used only candles on the brim of his bowler hat to find the Master Cave. They had guts in the old days, and we still light a candle in memory of all the potholers who have died over the years, drowned mostly, so you must never forget, James, that these caves were made by water and in wet weather they flood right up to the roof." He pointed at a small plaque pinned up on the shop's notice board.
   

 
And the Lord said
<"Let there be light" 

And there was light
And you could see for bloody miles.

For our absent friends
who pushed the blackness just a little too far.

              James put the candle and matches in his pocket.
             "Now," said Ernie, "you don't need a proper caving suit because all you will be doing is walking in an easy passage. You don't need a harness or anything like that because you won't be climbing down any pitches, there are no vertical drops in George's Old Cave. Try this helmet on, does it fit?"
                "Seems okay."
                "Fasten it," ordered Ernie, "it will be no good to you if it falls off when you need it ... it's to stop you hurting your head on the roof of the cave ... Limestone rock is pretty hard stuff."
                "Yes, it fits okay."
               "Good, now this light has an elastic strap on it which fits round the helmet, so," he eased  it on to the rim of the helmet, "and it keeps it in position ... this battery pack goes on your belt, and this other torch you keep in your pocket as a spare, but make sure they both work before you go into the cave. There is nothing as black as the darkness underground. If your lights ever fail you must never move around in the dark or you will end up falling down a hole ... you must stay where you are until someone finds you, okay?"
              "Okay."
             "These batteries look very small, Ernie," stated a worried James, "they are only penlight size and they don't look big enough to last any length of time underground?"
              "That's because they are the latest LED technology."
               "LED?"
              "Light Emitting Diodes," Ernie said, the cogs turning in his head as he tried to remember the technical bumf he had just been reading, "anyway, there's a new way of doing things so you get more light for much longer with less weight ... not like those heavy lead-acid miner's lamps we used to use that would burn your leg off if the case cracked and they leaked the acid."
              "Think I prefer LED," grinned James. 
              "Very wise," he grinned back, "now, leave your rucksack just inside the cave, out of the sight of any opportunistic thieving townie bastard who just happens by, and it will also tell us you are still in the cave if you don't show up back here at teatime."
              "Seems easy enough, how do I get there?"

           "Go up the valley on the footpath, down by the river, until you meet a small waterfall, from a little stream on your right, and just follow the little stream until you come to where it bubbles up from under the ground. The cave is nearby, a big open tunnel with a flat concrete floor, you can't miss it."
             "Thanks Ernie, what do I owe you for the gear?"
            "Call it a fiver, and you get the four quid deposit back when you bring the gear back, so it will only cost you a quid for the day, fair enough, James?"
             "Sounds good to me, thanks Ernie," paying the man and saying his farewells as he set off on his very first underground adventure."
            "Nice enough lad," said Janine, "The girls are going to love having him around, he's such a sweetie."
           Ernie raised his eyebrows and nodded as he sorted through some dishevelled woolly hats and gloves in a big cardboard box, and said: "You're right, as usual, I think we are going to see a lot of him ... hmmm ... so you think he's a sweetie eh?"
           "Oh yes," she grinned, "a real pretty boy, so young, so innocent looking, so sweet, those Happy Rambler girls are just going to eat him for breakfast," she paused, "afterwards, that is."
            "The lucky sod," laughed Ernie, getting his own back.

     James found the long walk up to George's Old Cave quite exhilarating ... the fresh air ... the views across the Dales ... unobstructed views all the way across to the mountains of the Lake District, far away to the north. Simply beautiful countryside.
      The birds were singing to one another as colourful butterflies flitted from flower to flower in search of pollen and nectar.

Please Click the Green Refresh Button NOW

        "Was that a Peacock butterfly?" he asked himself, answering, "Yes it is," as it flittered back into view. "How wonderful, I didn't think they could be found this far inland, in Yorkshire."
        He paused to examine the tiny purple flowers that had attracted the butterfly and the unmistakable smell of Wild Mountain Thyme wafted up at his touch. Other flowers gathered round in abundance but James wasn't too sure what they were called, except of course, the buttercups and daises.
       The distant bleating of a wayward sheep floated gently across the valley from a distant fell side, and there was not another soul in sight.  James sat on a boulder and soaked it all up. God was in His heaven and all was at peace with the world, as they say, when ....

       "WAROOOOOMPH" ... a low flying Tornado fighter plane roared directly overhead, so low that James was sure he could have reached up and touched it ... touched it that is, if he hadn't had been scared half to death with the sudden shock of it all.
           A stark communications mast on a nearby hill top, sticking out like a boil on a sore bum,  prompted the memory that the Dales were part of the RAF's training area for low-flying jet fighters and of course, he had decided to sit down right under the flight path, hadn't he, just how lucky could one get?
          He looked down the valley watching the tiny speck of the offending plane heading out towards the shimmering silver band which were the waters of Morecambe Bay and the Irish Sea ... where he knew that the pilot could really get his aircraft "deep down and dirty" by skimming only feet above the flat sands of the estuary ... he had seen them do just that ... many times before.
        Again his view was intruded upon by two huge square buildings on the horizon ... the Atomic Power Stations at Heysham ... built right on the foreshore of Morecambe Bay ... for easy access to unlimited amounts of salt water for the gigantic cooling system needed because of the tremendous heat generated by nuclear power.
       'Well, that's necessary progress ... I suppose,' thought James, 'but all we need now are a mass of those gigantic wind turbines up on yon hillside and we've got a bloody hat-trick, God forbid, but we all know that could never happen in a National Park, or could it, I wouldn't bet on it.'

         "WAROOOOOMPH" ... he ducked involuntary as two other Tornados roared past chasing their companion down the valley, veering to one side in an attempt to intercept it.
           'Still training for the war against terrorism,' he supposed.
         An inquisitive cow and the local wildlife didn't bat an eye-lid at this intrusion and carried on with the more important things in life, like eating, as though nothing whatever had happened.
          'Strange,' mused James, 'how easily they get used to something like that, so after a while they don't even notice it'. 

CHAPTER THREE

George's Old Cave.

     Following the river upstream James came upon the small waterfall and after an easy climb up from the valley without any further intrusion he soon found the obvious entrance to George's Old Cave.
          It was exactly as Ernie had described it.
        A small stream emerged from a spring under the rock face and to one side, next to a tumble-down wooden hut, was the large open passageway with a smooth concrete floor which simply pleaded for one to: "Explore me, explore me, please explore me."

        A tatty-looking painted sign attached to the hut proclaimed the cave had once been a Show Cave. 'But why had it closed down?' James wondered, 'I hope it's still safe.'
       Checking that both lights worked, James put the spare in his coat pocket, and attached the other one to his helmet, with the aid of the stretch-elastic head-band.
        He left his rucksack just inside the entrance, as Ernie had suggested. Out of sight of those opportunist thieves who made their living off unsuspecting tourists ... the kind who went walking and left their valuables in full view on the back seat of their parked cars ... but where it could still be easily found by someone needing proof that he was still in the cave, after coming a cropper for being so stupid as to go caving down there on his own in the first place.
         Maybe he was pushing his luck by going on his own, but then again James had spent so much of his life on his own as a child, wandering the lonely shore-line of his childhood home on Baycliffe Island that being on his own here wasn't going to bother him none, well not that much anyway.
        Taking a deep breath .... James walked into the darkening tunnel ... pausing for a few short moments to let his eyes get accustomed to the darkness ... and was immediately rewarded for his effort with a fabulous display of flowstone which draped down from the roof in a cascade of white and multicoloured hues. This was quite unexpected so close to the entrance, but still breath-taking, none the less, and really pretty.

      Small pools of crystal clear water held back by thin walls of calcite overflowed and washed the formation from top to bottom.
       Some of the formation had been there a long time, that was obvious, but parts of it, where water dripped on to it from the roof looked like it had been made yesterday, or today even.
      James ventured further into the cave and was beginning to see the fascination that these underground realms held for cavers.

        He looked up and saw these tiny silver pouch-like things hanging from the roof and wondered what kind of stalactites they could be. He climbed up on a rock for a closer look and got the impression they were moving, ever so slightly.
          'How odd,' he thought, and stood on tip toe to get a closer look at this strange sight, 'not just silver balls but jet-black ones as well.' and then he nearly shit himself as this huge two-foot wide spider loomed into view, right in front of his eyes.
           "K'nell," he ejaculated and jumped backwards off the rock ... and the spider came to ... and then disappeared.
            Cold chills ran up and down his spine as he frantically turned left and right, going in ever-decreasing circles, looking for this giant spider .... and then he saw it ... and felt a right pillock.
           It was all of two inches across, legs and all, but had been dangling down from the brim of his helmet only a few inches in front of his eyes but in the deceptive half-light of the cave it had appeared to be gigantic.
          The black balls were harmless cave spiders just trying to mind their own business, and the silver balls were their egg sacks.  Their home was inside the cave on the threshold of darkness, and it was James who was the intruder here.
           James shuddered .... and carefully checked that he wasn't an unwitting host to any more unwelcome travellers. He was learning fast that things were not always what they seemed to be down here under the ground.

             A small stream ran along the floor of the cave, playing hide and seek among the slabs of fallen rock, so it was quite easy to proceed without getting ones feet wet by stepping from slab to slab .... something that James had done all his young life among the rock pools at Baycliffe Island.
             James decided to check out just how dark it was underground. He chose a safe perch on the cave wall, sat down and turned out his light. Total darkness ensued. He decided to stay like this for a while to see if his eyes would adjust to the dark, and as he sat listened to the tumbling and splashing of the stream it seemed to get louder as his ears tried to compensate for his lack of vision. All his senses were heightened and he felt a  light breeze like gossamer wings brushing against his cheek, so he quickly turned his light back on to see what it was ... not another spider he hoped.
               Perched on the cave wall not three feet in front of his face was a small brown bundle, which moved ever so slightly, and James realized it was a bat, small, brown and cuddly, and it stretched its wings and preened itself it in the light of his lamp. He edged nearer for a closer look and it promptly took flight and disappeared off into the darkness. The bat didn't need lights to find its way around underground, and could navigate the twists and turns without any problem at all.
            'One day,' James thought, 'they will have bat vision for cave explorers, just mark my words.'

          Ernie had said that the formations in these caves had taken thousands of years to form, as the calcite slowly deposited itself on any suitable surface .... and he had also said that many of the formations in George's Cave had been vandalised by its many visitors .... and it was going to take  thousands of years for them to regain their former grandeur.

         But these looked okay ... despite the dark stains ... where people had touched them ... and it certainly was a temptation to touch them .... they just asked to be touched ... and unfortunately many had succumbed to temptation ... including  our hero.
          James found a small piece of stalagmite on the floor of the cave, that had been broken off by vandals, and tentatively poked at it with his fore-finger, not quite knowing what to expect.
          It was certainly hard, not at all soft, as he had imagined it might be ... but very brittle.  It was a sort of translucent, mucky yellowy-gold colour with an obvious crystalline structure showing where it had been broken through ... and it was made up of concentric rings, James noted, just like the rings in a tree trunk.
         This meant it must have grown in size, layer upon layer, just like a tree, does, but these rings would indicate differences in the rate at which the calcium carbonate was deposited, and that would depend upon the rate at which the water was dripping at the time of deposition ... or so it said on the Internet.
         The time he had spent swotting up on caves on the Internet was already beginning to pay dividends. He may not be able to walk the walk yet, but he could certainly talk the talk.
         Where the stalactite had dried out it was also quite dull and life-less.  Seemingly these stalactites lose their sparkle if they are not permanently wet ... which means it is pretty pointless breaking them off and taking them home, they would just 'die' on you the minute they dried out.

          The distant splashing of water caught his attention and he made his way quite easily to the base of a high, yet small waterfall. After all, George's Cave had been open to the public in the old days as a show cave and the footpath was still in fairly good condition ... apart from the odd mangy pieces of semi-rotten wooden walkways which were coated here and there with a thin layer of white calcite, almost like the icing on a cake, and which James learned, at a later date, was called 'cave-ice' by cavers.

          The waterfall was novel ... one just doesn't expect a waterfall underground. The cavern roof had lifted considerably and James could see the water cascading out of a hole some twenty feet up in the top of the cavern roof and sort of spreading out into a wide heavy spray by the time it had splashed down into the turbulent pool at the bottom of the fall.
          Very refreshing that spray ... but it wouldn't take much for it to become very cold for anyone foolish enough to loiter round here for too long, and James wisely decided to move on.
          The journey into the cave had been remarkably easy, seeing as it had been closed as a show cave for many years, in fact the only obstacles to be avoided were some large rocks that must have fallen out of the roof during the earthquake that Ernie was going on about, 'When did he say it was? ... 1959? .. 60? ... can't remember .... a long time back, anyway.'
        "Perhaps I should keep my eye out for those rocks," he voiced, "on my way back, because this is as far as I go. I certainly can't climb up that waterfall, and I can't stay here, it's getting cold."

        Turning back from the waterfall with his head bent to watch for boulders on the floor James promptly head-butted the lowering roof with his helmet, such a WALLOP!!
        He staggered backwards with this colourful array of bright stars and flashing lights in his head ... one of them being his own caving light which went clattering away to the side of the cave as it rolled out of sight under a low overhanging rock.
       "Ouch, ouch, ouch ... bloody ouch ... that hurt," he said out loud, to no one in particular, as he cradled his sore head in his hands, and he was wondering, 'what would that have been like without a helmet on?'
         Luckily his caving light had stayed on, shining out from the depths of the overhang, and he lay down to try and reach under the overhanging rock to get at it, being very careful this time not to bang his head again.
        "Bloody Nora, that hurt," he said, caring little that he had started talking to himself, "come on little lightie, come to daddy."
        He managed to get hold of the light and he was just about to pull back from out of the crevice when he realised that the overhang wasn't solid rock but had a narrow rift-like chimney going upwards behind the rock into a larger section which meant one could just stand up and push through it.

       He squeezed upright through the narrow chimney to find himself looking at some pretty stalagmite bosses ... and then suddenly he came nose to nose with a Black Rose disc, yellowed with age and laying upright against a stalagmite boss on the left hand wall ... looking for all the world like it had been there forever.

    A black void beyond the stalagmites echoed invitingly ... a cool sweet draft blew in his face ... enticing the young explorer to venture further into the unknown darkness. 
      'Surely these could not be the Secret Caverns of Black Rose Jed,' thought James, 'they were far too easy to find, someone must have been here many times before.' 
        Little did he realise at the time that no proper potholer would ever have expected this passage to be where it was ... in the wrong place, going in the wrong direction ... no ... this passage was found through the blind ignorance of youth by someone who didn't know any better than to bang his head on the roof of the cave. Actually there was more chance of winning the lottery, you lucky sod, but old Black Rose Jed knew about it too ... which make's one wonder?
       With baited breath James reached out and gingerly picked up the Black Rose tag, not quite believing it was real ... but the cold metal against his fingers only reinforced its reality. He carefully put the treasured souvenir inside his jacket pocket and zipped it shut, for safety.
        'I don't want to lose this now,' he thought, 'no one would ever believe me if I did.'

       He leaned forward and tried to see into the void ... but he couldn't see beyond the stalagmites ... the inky blackness just went on and on into nothingness, and then some.
         'Looks easy enough to get through,' he thought, 'and the cave seems to be much bigger on the other side of this hole.'
        "Hello," he yelled into the black hole.
        "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello."
       James re-coiled backwards, somewhat taken aback at the ferocity of the booming echoes, which went to confirm the size of the cavern beyond, and maybe it was a lot bigger than he first imagined.  "Caution, old son," he warned himself.

        Sliding carefully forward on his stomach James eased delicately through the small hole into where he could stand up quite comfortably, and the cave could be seen to get even bigger in the darkness. Something white hovered just beyond explanation in the depths of the darkness and as he got nearer James drew in his breath with astonishment.

Snow White's Chamber

The passage walls were covered with the purest snow white flowstone. So clean and untouched by human hand that it put everything to shame that he had seen in George's Cave. 'This is what formations should look like' he thought ... and felt suddenly humbled in the presence of such pristine natural beauty.

         He looked inwardly for the right words to describe this wonder... white seemed so inadequate. 'Immaculate, yes ... and spotless, certainly, virginal ... bit like me ... but that was a bit too near the mark .... still if he had his wicked way with Penny this evening that would soon change. What do they say about males thinking about sex every few seconds ... it's true.'

    Marvellous fragile crystals grew out from the flowstone and the closer James looked at them the more he thought that this place should stay secret. It was probably why Black Rose Jed never revealed where it was in the first place.
     Every step down this large clean water-washed chamber revealed yet more new wonders, and James was very careful about where he stood, so as not to deface the stalagmites, although the odd thin straw stalactite did "chink" down from the roof as his helmet caught them on occasions ... causing him to audibly curse his own negligence and vandalism.

       A gossamer-thin curtain of calcite chimed like a bell when tapped very gently with a fingernail, and weird and wonderful stalactites hung down from the roof in every conceivable size and shape ... and all immaculately white. James decided to call this cavern Snow White's Chamber, and fully expected to meet the Seven Dwarfs at any moment.

         The chamber came to an end as it turned into a rather plain stooping passage which continued on for some distance, punctuated by cavities with a green encrustation on the walls.

This proved to be a green ore of copper known as Malachite but it was only a thin crust and as it happens it was only a foretaste for the multitude of colour which was to come. A short hands and knees crawl through a sloping passage brought James into a series of new chambers, a veritable fairyland grotto.

The Rainbow Chambers

          Multicoloured stalagmites were everywhere and weird and wonderful stalactites hung down from the roof in every conceivable size and shape. James was quite overwhelmed with it all and sat down to take it all in. A host of azure blue-tinted straw stalactites filled the way ahead, probably stained by copper sulphates deposits from the veins of copper ore in the rock.

             This chamber was different to Snow White's Chamber, where the formations were attached to the walls, for here they were actually hanging from the roof. The range of colour was staggering. An underground kaleidoscope of rainbow hue. One collection reminded him of strawberry ice cream oozing down from the roof of the cave.

       James got up and walked over to a small alcove. All of sudden yet another surprise was in store for the intrepid explorer. Stalactites hanging down from the roof of the alcove were a bright orange colour, reminding James of giant carrots. They even had tiny helictites growing out from the tips, like proper roots. He looked closer to make sure they really weren't roots.

       "Well that settles it," announced James, "I name this part of the cave, Carrot Grotto, "may God bless her, and all who sail in her, and save her from any hungry rabbits, but they better be bloody big rabbits," he giggled manically, as he began to feel quite intoxicated with this wealth of adventure and responsibility that had been thrust upon him, and so unexpectedly.

              The chamber continued to reveal its secrets in the same magnificent manner through a rainbow assortment of breath-taking formations ... getting more magnificent with every step.

             Until, James thought, 'There must be more stalagmites and stalactites here than in all the other caves combined,' and then, the 'piece-de-resistance', a single ruby red stalactite guarded the way out of the chamber into a larger black void.

          As fate would surely decree ... the clean smooth floor of the passage suddenly ended in nothingness. Pitch black impenetrable nothingness ... and lots and lots of it.

        James cautiously approached the edge and peeped over the top of the chasm ... and saw absolutely nothing but inky blackness. There was very faint deep rumbling sound like that of distant thunder, but this was continuous, it didn't stop.
       'Well, that settles it,' decided James, 'Ernie was most adamant that there are no pitches in George's Old Cave ... this has got to be one of Black Rose Jed's Secret Caverns.'
         An occasional plop of dripping water gave him an idea and he retreated back up the passage looking for some small stones to throw down the pitch.
         Eventually he found some smooth water-washed pebbles in a pool and tossed one over the rim to see if it was bottomless.
         A distant faint "crack" of stone hitting stone made him move back away from the edge as it confirmed just how deep this chasm was, and it also told him something else. That it was a fair way down and quite beyond his present capabilities.
         He threw another stone over the edge and waited. The same faint sound confirmed his first analysis of the situation. That was too deep for him to climb down unaided.
            'No doubt about,' he mused, 'these are definitely some the Secret Caverns of Black Rose Jed, but it's time to call it a day and find my way back out of here ... I don't want to end up not coming back, like what he did.'
          James carefully retraced his steps out of the cave, being extra careful not to touch any of those fabulous stalactites. At one point he started going up the wrong way  and quickly realised that caves do not look the same going out as they do coming in. He had not seen these stalagmites before, they looked like a wedding cake, covered with icing sugar.

          'No wonder people get lost,' he thought, 'I never even saw this cavern on the way in, I guess I still have a lot to learn about caving,' and with that thought in mind he eventually found his way back to the chimney and slid back down into George's Old Cave, making his way out into the bright sunshine, and the unmistakable smell of rotting vegetation.
          'Cor,' he thought, 'it stinks out here after you've been breathing clean fresh cave air for a few hours.' But it soon wore off and he couldn't smell it anymore when his nose readjusted to the outside world.
            He tramped light-footedly down to the village and the bustle of Ernie's Café.
             'Should I tell or shouldn't I?' whirled around his head.
           He fondled the Black Rose disc and decided to play it cool, after all, some people had spent a lifetime looking for the Secret Caverns of Black Rose Jed and along comes a young nobody and does it in his first few hours underground.
           'They are not going to be happy cavers,' he decided, 'so yes, discretion is the better part of valour, as my old Grannie used to say, so I will bite my tongue and play it cool.'

CHAPTER FOUR

Wine, Women and Song.

              James bounded joyfully into Ernie's Café and saw Penny sitting at a table in the midst of a boisterous crowd who all seemed to know one another.
               "Hello James," Penny said, rising rapidly to her feet, "you made it then, let me introduce you to everybody, this is Spud, Pauline, Jules, Valerie, Tich, Chunky, Rita, Christine and Zeke, my boyfriend."
               'Boyfriend?' James was taken aback, 'Penny asked me up here to give me a birthday present and she has a boyfriend?'
              The Ramblers all nodded at him warmly and took his open-mouthed astonishment as simply being overwhelmed  by their boisterousness, they had that effect on people.
               'Boyfriend? Penny has a boyfriend?' James stood stock still and stared in disbelief until he was inadvertently rescued by Ernie who came over and said: "You're back then, no need to call out Cave Rescue, bring the gear over to the counter and I can give you your deposit back."
               James needed the respite to get his head together, and to try to make sense of what had happened. Had Penny just been stringing him along? Was she into two-timing Zeke? Was she into threesomes? Had Zeke turned up unexpectedly? His head was spinning, so he decided the best course of action would be to play along as though nothing whatever was amiss.
         James settled up with Ernie, bought a mug of tea and went back over to the group, whereupon Christine shuffled to one side on the bench-seat and said, "Here you go, handsome, you can sit with me."
           "Auntie Chris will look after you," grinned Spud, "she has a definite soft spot for little boys does our Christine, don't you sweetheart?"
          "I've got a soft spot for you Spud, it's called the swamp down the bottom of my garden."
         Everybody laughed, including Tyke, and James got the impression that this cutting repartee was all part of their game.
       "You don't look old enough to be anybody's auntie, Christine, how come they call you that?" asked James, getting suddenly emboldened at the close proximity of her warm body.
           "I'm into First Aid, used to be a student nurse, so when one of these little boys gets a bruised finger I kiss it better."
           "She's got a terrific bedside manner," said Chunky.
           "She's got an even better in-bed manner," quipped Tich.
           "And how would you know?" demanded Christine.
           "He read it in a Christmas Cracker," said Pauline.
            "It's the only thing he's ever pulled," added Valerie.
            "Besides himself that is," added Rita
             Penny made as though to add her bit.
           "Enough," pleaded Tich, throwing his hands up in the air, "I surrender." and they all broke down in fits of laughter.
            "I was going to say, Tich," added Penny, never-the-less, "that you should have learned by now that there are two theories to arguing with women and neither of them works," and the girls chorused their agreement.
         'Wow, I'm going to have to go some to keep up with this lot,' thought James, 'especially the girls, there's no equality here, the lads don't stand a chance, totally outgunned by the girls ... and as for this Auntie Chris, what a cracker she is ... and she seems to be foot loose and fancy free ... not like some I come mention ... so I might be getting my birthday present after all, especially the way she is rubbing up against my leg, for no apparent reason.'
         He glanced over at Penny who didn't look a happy girl, not a happy girl at all.

        Actually Penny was inwardly fuming. Zeke was supposed to have been on some far-flung expedition with the Geology Department at his University but this had been cancelled at the last minute so he had come up to Ingleton with her, as they normally did every weekend.
         Penny had planned to seduce James and shag his brains out for a week, but now, that was all in tatters, and to make matters worse, Zeke and herself were not exactly hitting it off, and they were simply going through the motions of being a twosome, more than anything else. 
         Now she glowered across the table as Auntie Chris started fawning all over James and shamelessly flaunting her womanly attributes, of which she had more than enough, and, God damn it, James was lapping it up, like some tomcat with his head in a saucer of double cream. Double being a good way to describe Auntie Chris ... she was a big girl, as they say, you don't get many of those to the pound ... and James had noticed them ... couldn't very well miss them from where he was sat.
        And Auntie Chris could see that Penny was agitated to say the least, and this prompted her to play up to James even more ... and he was a good looking lad when all was said and done ... quite tasty actually, nice bum, and besides there never was any love lost between them since a couple of years back when Penny had seduced one of Christine's boyfriends.
         "You're a quiet one, James," Auntie Chris whispered in his ear, "I can see someone's going to have to show you the ropes, now that Penny is otherwise engaged."
          "I'm a quick learner, Christine," he murmured, wondering if she knew of Penny's prior intentions, "Penny was going to arrange for me to get a birthday present, but now, I'll put myself entirely in your hands."
        "That's exactly what I had in mind," said Christine, loud enough for Penny to hear, and rubbing the salt of her sweet revenge into Penny's anguish.
          "Okay, you lot," said Spud, "it's time to go up the Drunken Duck for some Wanker's Best Bitter, and a sing song, are you coming up later, Ernie?"
          "Yes, we'll be up when we've shut up shop," Ernie replied.

           The Ramblers had their own back-room haunt at the pub where Jules could thrash out the old favourites on his guitar, and everybody joined in, 'Balls to Cravenford Pothole Club' was always a favourite to be sung at any opportunity.
          'That landlord Paddy really is a miserable old sod,' thought James, almost immediately, 'but the landlady Colleen seems pleasant enough, I wonder what on earth she sees in him?'
         Spud got the beer in, and Christine was clinging on to James in more ways than one, and the other girls had no option but to concede that she had first dibs on the new boy, and the new boy didn't seem to mind at all, he was more than happy with the ways things had turned out.
        "How did Spud get his nickname, Christine?" James enquired, "and Chunky and Tich and Jules and Zeke, surely that's not their real names."
         "Simple story with Spud," Christine laughed, "he spends more time underground than a potato does, hence ... Spud."
          "Jules slipped down a scree slope, up at Attamire Scar and landed astride this pointed rock on his family jewels, ouch ... hence Jules."
           "Tich is built like a brick outhouse ... bit of the Little John touch as with Robin Hood ... hence Tich."
           "Zeke wants to be a gold miner ... hence Zeke, although we called him Mule for a while, but he was no donkey," she laughed, "or so the other girls tell me, know what I mean?"
          "Chunky is chunky, and there's no denying that, or so the other girls tell me," she smiled, again.

        "Do the girls have nicknames?"
       "Oh yes, we do, but the lads only use them when talking amongst themselves usually, which is more than wise," laughed Christine.
        "You know I'm Auntie Chris."
        "Valerie is Fat Bum, because she won their 'Who's got the  largest bum competition?' ... charming lot, aren't they?"
        "Rita is the Man-Eater ... be warned, it's true, she'll eat you for breakfast and still have room for afters."
        "Penny is Miss Three-Penny-Bits ... because she's got small tits, which are probably worn down with over-use," she added bitcherly, and James thought: 'Woops, there's no love lost between these two young ladies.'
        "Pauline is Miss Goody-Two-Shoes ... because the boys all reckon she doesn't put out, but that's only because she hasn't found the right fella yet."

       The conversation soon got around to the past exploits of the Ramblers, of which there were many, and James soon realised that they weren't the slightest bit bothered about taking the piss out of themselves, and he figured that this came from their being very good at what they did, and of having the confidence from knowing it.
          "Do you remember the time Tich got Gently Henry'd?" Rita laughed, and they all joined in, except Tich who said: "Ha, bloody ha, I couldn't move a muscle," and they all laughed even more.

           "We were going through this pile of boulders, in Quaking Pot," and they all went "Oooooh", shaking their hands in mock horror at this well-named very loose pothole,  "and there was this tall rock stood bolt upright like a phallic pillar," Rita continued, "so Tich puts his hand on the top of it to pose for a picture and it ever so slowly tipped over on top of him, and he's trying to stop it doing that, but it's really heavy, and it wouldn't be stopped falling over, so ever so gently it settles down on top of him and he's well and truly stuck, and he's squealing away, not 'cos he's hurt, mind you, but because he can't move, and because Chunky is taking a picture of him, and we'll all pissing ourselves laughing ... God it was funny, but he was lucky, weren't you my little cough-drop?" she said, ruffling his hair playfully, "but you really shouldn't play with large phallic-shaped objects, it doesn't suit you?" and they all laughed at the memory.

              "Well at least I have never wet myself because I thought that my friends had been beamed away by bloody Aliens," Tich retaliated, and they all laughed again, knowing that this story was one which Rita would rather forget.
             "Shut your face," Rita retorted, as all the other ramblers collapsed in fits of laughter, "I was scared bloody silly."
             "You see, James, we had gone down the Gaping Gill main shaft, on the winch," said Tich, "and we were coming out of the system through Bar Pot, a nice and dry way out, with a big pitch, a hundred feet plus, and it was laddered, and double lifelined, so that visitors like us could use it to climb up the pitch and get back out of the cavern."
           He paused for a drink of ale, the better to tell his tale.
       "Well, I have to admit, we are all SRT (Single Rope Technique) fans and, quite frankly, ladders aren't our strong point, and, which ever idiot had used the ladder before us had made a right cock-up of the double lifeline, that's where you lifeline the climber from the bottom of a pitch."
         He paused for another drink of ale, because he liked it.
        "Well, there were three of us on that trip, Spud, Rita and myself. So Spud ties on the lifeline and starts climbing up the pitch first, and I'm lifelining him from the bottom, but what none of us know is that the lifelines are tangled up something rotten in the karabiners at the top of the pitch.  Now, Spud gets up some eighty feet or so and realises that the lifeline has gone very slack, and he wonders why I wasn't keeping it tight, like I was supposed to, for safety's sake."
        He paused for another drink of ale, there no point whatever hurrying a damned good story was there?
        "Well I thought he was having a rest because the rope at my end was still tight, so he gets hold of the lifeline with both hands and yanks down on it to see what gives, and it suddenly frees itself, and he's not holding on to anything anymore, is he, and the silly sod promptly falls off, didn't you Spud?"
         Spud mumbled into his beer.
       "Meanwhile, I'm way down below, chatting merrily with Rita about ... whatever ... it's not important, and she turns away for a couple of seconds to fix her bra strap, it was riding up or something under her harness, what with her being the very shy girl that she is," howls of laughter from everybody.

       "What? Rita the man-eater?" they all chorused, with delight.
       "Anyway," Tich continues, "so Rita turns back around to finish talking to me and I've gone ... vanished? The ladder's gone ... vanished? The lifeline's gone ... vanished? There's nothing there but empty darkness, and she's all on her bloody lonesome, and she freaks out, didn't you my little cuddle-bucket?"
           "You see when Spud had fallen down the pitch far enough to take up all the slack in the lifeline, it freed itself through the karabiners, and as I've got the other end of this bloody lifeline fastened around my waist, I go straight up in the air like a bloody rocket, but I've also got my foot caught in a rung of the bloody ladder without knowing it, so the bloody ladder comes up with me as well, and Spud and me, we meet one-another half way up the bloody pitch, all tangled ladders, bodies and lifelines, and our poor Rita, well she peed herself didn't she, because, when she turned around she found that everybody and everything had just vanished into thin air, like something out of Star Trek ... beam me up Scottie, didn't you my little pear drop?" Tich laughed and ruffled her hair in return, in the same friendly manner.
            "Aw, shut your face,"  Rita laughed with the rest of them, "you useless pair of pillocks couldn't ladder your way up a barmaid's silk stocking," and that really brought the house down, because there was more than a hint of truth in it.
           "And on a serious note, young James," lectured Spud, "the motto of that story is ... when you fall off a pitch just make sure you're not falling down it faster than your Guardian Angel is flying up it to catch you."
          James looked a bit puzzled by that, and although he didn't quite grasp the meaning of the motto, he joined in the laughter anyway, but he could see how they got the name Happy Ramblers, because he had never seen a happier bunch of people in all his young life.
          Ernie and Janine arrived and the Ramblers shuffled up on the benches to make room for them.
           "Do you remember when the lads had this bet about who had the largest bum among you ladies, and they got Chunky to photograph you all from behind, or your behinds, so to speak?" laughed Ernie.

        "Valerie won by a wide berth," said Jules wickedly.
         "I thought it was by a wide girth," said Spud holding his hands wide apart like some fisherman telling the tale of the one that had got away.
         "Somebody's asking to get Henry'd," said Valerie.
        "She might have a big bum, Spud, but she wouldn't have any problem getting all of it into your cavernous big mouth," laughed Penny.
         "My dream's come true, at last," said Spud, and they all laughed, as Valerie thumped him one, playfully, thank goodness, because our Valerie could deck an elephant with a single punch, seeing as she had muscles on a par with her bum.

         "Do you remember that time down Bull Pot of the Witches when Jules came head to head with the unknown potholer?" Valerie laughed, "and Zeke talked to him as well."
        "That got me a bit worried, I can tell you," laughed Jules.
         "And he suckered me into it," complained Zeke.
        "Well, James," Rita told the story, "we were all down the bottom of Bull Pot of the Witches," ... and they all went "Oooooh", shaking their hands in mock horror to set the stage ... "looking for the lower stream passage, there are two passages you see, one above the other, and we had found the upper passage but we were having some difficulty finding our way into the lower one."
           She paused for a drink of ale, the better to tell her tale, or was it, like Tich, she just liked her beer?
         "Anyway," she continued, "Jules found this small hole in the floor, too small to get down, but when he looked down through it he saw another Potholer's light shining right back up at him.
         Jules was asking this unknown person how they had got down there, but this person wasn't having any, and was totally ignoring Jules, and was refusing to answer him, and then Zeke arrived, and he had a go at asking then, but he got totally ignored as well, so Jules got a bit mad, didn't you, my precious?" they all laughed, "and he started tearing strips off this ignorant bar-steward for not replying, calling him for everything under the sun, his language was terrible, and then a small piece of mud fell down the hole and the bar-steward disappeared in a ring of ripples, like some ghostly apparition."
         "Jules had only been talking to his own reflection in a pool of water, hadn't he?" butted in Penny, "and he felt a right pillock, especially when we all fell about laughing, didn't you Jewels, my little precious, and our Valerie then suggested you might get more response by talking to a solid brick wall, next time you needed directions," and they all laughed at the memory.
        "It was a perfectly simple mistake to make," said our Jules defensively, "and Zeke fell for it as well, and it was so bloody real it was scary, and with things never being the same underground as they appear to be, it's all to easy to get the wrong end of the stick, but you can laugh, it will happen to you soon enough."
       "Aweeee, didums feel a pratt?" said the Ramblers in unison and everybody, including Jules, fell about laughing again.

           "I did that today in George's Old Cave," said James, "when this spider was hanging from the rim of my helmet, and it looked about 2 feet wide," he held his hands out in front of his face to demonstrate how big it was, "I nearly had heart failure."
          They all laughed, because they'd been there, done that, in one way or another.

           "Well at least you didn't meet the ghost of George's Old Cave," Spud  laughed, and they all "wooed" menacingly ...  shaking their hands in mock horror to set the stage ...and started laughing again.
       "What ghost?" asked James, thinking to himself, 'Ghost, how come Steve had never mentioned that there might be ghosts underground?'
         "Ah, well," said Spud, "I was walking along the passage, the one above the waterfall, in George's Old Cave one day, all alone, doing a Black Rose Jed ... as they call it when you cave alone ... because it's a very easy cave ... as you well know, when I heard these footsteps behind me so I stopped and the footsteps stopped. I started walking again and they walked after me again. I stopped again and they stopped again. It took me ages to figure out it was only water lapping on the edges of the passage, but I peed myself so much that day they had to put out a flood warning," at which point everybody laughed, albeit some of the laughter was a little bit on the nervous side, as there had been one or two little instances of things happening underground that could not be explained away quite so easily.

          Landlady Colleen came in to collect the empty glasses, "Pass them along to me, handsome," she said to James, causing him to go all red with embarrassment, and not knowing where to put himself.
          "My goodness, James," whispered Christine, "I think you must have lead a very sheltered life, so perhaps we should get off to my tent at the campsite this very instant, and bring you up to scratch about us big, bad, older, naughty women, if that's okay with you?"
           "Okay," said James, thinking it was definitely going to be his birthday after all.
          "Right, folks, we're off," said Christine, "I promised my mum I would be in bed by ten o'clock of a night, but I never said who's bed it would be, boom-boom," and they all laughed, as Auntie Chris waltzed off with James firmly in tow, before any of the Ramblers had time to figure out what was going on.
           "Bloody Nora," said Spud, "that was sudden, anybody want to do that to me, please?" and all the girls laughed, but declined his very generous offer.
           Auntie Chris had not been at all serious about going to the camp site at this very instant but if James was up for it, then so was she, because the more she saw of this lad, the more she fancied the pants off him, let's rumble.

        The tent wasn't all that big but once Christine had laid the double sleeping bag out and they were cuddling up together there was room enough for lovers, especially when they were so close you couldn't get a film of perspiration between them.
          James kissed her gently on the lips, cupping her head in his hands and gently stroking her ear lobes, which she found to be positively wonderful, and a marvellous turn on, and she wondered why no other man had ever done this to her, and she thought that James was remarkably skilled for his age.
        "So, you will know how to get an erection, James?" said Christine, which James thought was a damned silly question because he was already hard enough in that department to punch holes through a plate glass window, blokes didn't have to know how to get an erection, they just did, frequently, and not always at an appropriate time, it just happened, 'voila'.
         "Of course, I know how to get an erection, sugar-lips, I have one on right now," he replied.
         "Not you, silly, I mean me," Christine smiled, "do you know how to get my nipples erect?"
        "I thought they already were hard," James said, in some confusion, giving them a gentle fondle, and squeezing them both gently between his thumb and forefinger in a manner that just seemed so natural.
         "Yes," she said, "they are, but they can get much bigger than that ... and the bigger they are the more pleasurable they are for me ...  oh yes, keep doing what you are doing, but stroke them gently, more like from back to front, and, oh, that's right," she shuddered with pleasure, as he got the action to perfection, "give them a gentle, but firm squeeze every so often, just like you are doing."
         Amazingly, Christine nipples kept getting larger, and larger and James had an overwhelming compulsion to put them in his mouth, and suckle on them like a baby, first one and then the other, and then both together, and then back to kissing her willing mouth, so moist and responsive to his touch, and then back to her nipples, and a quick trip down to her belly button and back, which made her squeal with delight.
         "You must have done this before," murmured Christine, "you are doing it perfectly," but James was only doing what came naturally to him, he felt her pleasure and he responded to it, keeping his actions in time to the rhythm of her breathing and the beating of her heart, slowing or quickening as her body gyrated to the insistent manipulation of her nipples, and the warm pressure of his wet lips.
      "Do you know how to masturbate a woman to orgasm, James," Christine asked, shocking James more than a little with her forwardness and apparent lack of inhibition, but she had a feeling that it would be out of this world, and she was going for the full Monty while the opportunity presented itself.
        "Well ... er," James stuttered.
        "You don't know, do you?" said Christine, not quite believing that someone with his marvellously dextrous hands didn't know how to do it.
        "No," he admitted, I haven't done that before."

      "Then I shall teach you," she offered, "as most men are too concerned about pleasuring themselves, James, to bother about their partner, but a women appreciates a considerate man, and an appreciative women can be such a wonderful lover in return, and believe me, James, you  have the makings of a very considerate man, and a very wonderful lover, believe me."
        'Well thank you muchly, kind lady,' he thought and then he caught his breath as she took his hand and put it between the wonderful warm wetness of her legs, and he could not believe how wonderful it felt, just wonderful, and his finger entered her of its own volition, and it knew exactly where to go, a small depression inside her was an exact fit and clung to the end of his finger as though it had been made for the job, which of course, it had, and he gently but quickly quivered his finger tip, and Christine literally squirmed with delight and the sheer nerve tingling ecstasy of his touch.
         "You must have done this before," murmured Christine, normally committed to a silent orgasm, "you are doing it perfectly, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes," but again, James was only doing what came naturally to him, he felt her pleasure and he responded to it by keeping in time to the rhythm of her breathing and the beating of her heart, slowing or quickening his response as her body squirmed to his insistent gentle manipulation of her clitoris, and he was deriving as much pleasure from being able to give her pleasure, as she was from receiving it. 
        'It's exactly the same as masturbating myself,' he thought to himself, 'and I've done that often enough, except it's on a much smaller scale, and faster, and he used his free hand to gently squeeze her nipples, while he kissed her, and caressed her protruding tongue with his gentle wet lips.
        With her back arched with the sheer ecstasy of it all, it took James less than a minute to bring Christine to a shuddering explosive climax, and she lay back and pulled him on top of her, and with his manhood pressed hard into her belly, she moved upwards under him until it dropped between her legs and then she moved down again slowly, and with a little gentle persuasion of her gyrating hips, it slipped easily into its rightful resting place, as she knew it would, and he was overwhelmed with how wonderful it all felt, just wonderful, and he lay there, moving ever so slowly, not wanting this to end, but he knew it would because it was so wonderful, and his body urged him to fulfil his mission, and come to climax, but he was doing his best to delay this, because it was so wonderful, and he never wanted it to end.
        "It's your turn now, you wonderful man," she had said, and he had revelled in her moist hidden places for far too short a time before the wonder and pleasure of it all brought him to that explosive climax as well, what with him having just lost his virginity with her, and his still having a lot to learn yet about controlling his sexuality, and his not yet being able to prolong the pleasure as he would have wanted, but he would learn, there was time, and all it needed was practice, and the love of a wonderful woman.
         And then, being a man, that is, with all the males of the species being programmed to immediately fall asleep after sexual congress, he did just that, and as he lay there, Christine, while still basking in the wonderful afterglow, touched his still moist lips with her fingertips, and she smiled a bittersweet smile, and she sighed to herself: "My God, James, you are an absolute sweetie, and no mistake, and its a pity I can't take you home with me tomorrow, but until then you are going to have the best time you have ever had, my lovely lad, I can promise you that," and she lay there smiling contentedly and thinking: "Oh yes, Mister, that was something else."

CHAPTER FIVE

Learning to Swim.

         James woke up with a start ... not having remembered falling asleep ... and then realised he was cuddling the largest pair of naked breasts he had ever had the good fortune to come across in all his young life. The nipples were normal size again, but he knew how to put that right and started to gently stroke both nipples simultaneously into the erection their owner had taught him how to achieve only a few hours earlier, and they responded readily.
           'They really do look like organ stops,' he thought, gently nuzzling a bloated nipple into his mouth and mouthing it like a contented baby, a very contented baby, it was wonderful, and his emotions ran riot with the niceness of it all. He had never known such pleasure before, and it was a bit overwhelming for him.
           Christine moaned gently and pulled him closer to her and he wasn't sure she was actually awake until he felt her cool hands exploring his hot nether regions, and then holding onto his manhood gently, but firmly, with her thumb and forefinger in the manner he had told her he liked ... was that only last night, my goodness, doesn't time fly when you are enjoying yourself?
           "What is it with you men, that you always wake up with a hard on?" she asked, not really expecting an answer, but also knowing that what she had said was absolutely true.
           "Sorry," James murmured in her ear, "I didn't realise you were asleep, but you felt so sexy, and I just couldn't resist kissing your wonderful breasts."
             "Well I'm definitely not asleep now," she chided as she manoeuvred into her favourite position, "so you had better do something with that love machine of yours, hadn't you my lover boy, because we wouldn't want you to get ball-ache or anything silly like that, now would we, my randy little sex pot?"

         "And then we really must go up to Ernie's," she added as an afterthought, "and meet up with the Happy Ramblers, but not for quite a while yet, agreed?" but James had already started, and was happily succumbing to his fate .... the lucky sod.

        A playful Christine dragged a very bedraggled James across the quiet village square like some reluctant little puppy, who didn't want to go walkies, and bounded into the busy café like some tornado on wheels.
          The café was full to the brim with tourists of all kinds, walkers, climbers, cavers, cyclists and the like ... all wolfing down their breakfasts and making ready for a busy day of exploring the treasures to be found in the Yorkshire Dales.

           A brightly dressed loud-spoken woman with an American accent was extolling the beauties of the Yorkshire Dales to everyone within earshot.
             "We have nothing like this at home, do we Arnold? It's all so quaint ... I do wish I could take it all back home with me ... and show the girls at the Rotary Club ... they would just love it,  it's all just so quaint."
          A hen-pecked Arnold grunted an inaudible agreement, and went back to enjoying his 'quaint' breakfast with a four inch diameter Ingletonian Black Pudding, a speciality of Ernie's Café, and very tasty with it, as only Ingletonian Black Puddings can be, with their properly cooked whole grain barley, the pig's blood and the ample quantities of lumpy pork fat pieces. Very tasty, very calorific and a vegetarian's nightmare.
          "What did she call these round black hamburgers, Melissa?" he asked, "they're so tasty, Black Puddings wasn't it, we must get some of them to take home." Not realising they would never be allowed through the American Customs at the airport when they did get home.
          A small group of Asian-looking youths were sitting together at a table, talking merrily away in their broad Yorkshire accents .... seemingly they were up for the day, from Bradford, and were off to do the local Waterfalls Walk, a favourite past time for all the  Asian Community.
           "This England team couldn't bat their way out of a paper bag," said one of them, heatedly discussing the latest events in the England v Pakistan match, seeing as most Asians from the sub-continent were quite fanatical about cricket, a sport they had acquired from the British in the 'Days of Empire', and were now very good at showing their mentors how it should be played by beating them at it, regularly.
          The café was a metropolis for tourists of all kinds, and James got the feeing that, like Time Square, if you sat here long enough, eventually, you would meet everyone you ever knew, and anyone who was anyone. They all used Ernie's Café.

           Christine saw the Ramblers over by the fireplace in their favourite corner, and waved: "Morning all, how did we sleep after all that ale we consumed last night?"
            "Ah, there you are, young James," grinned Spud, " I see our Auntie Chris has been taking care of you ... very well I hope, I told you she had a soft spot for nice little boys our Christine, don't you sweetheart?"
            "Sod off y'pillock, you're only jealous, and he ain't no little boy ... are you my sweet thing?" she said pulling James into her ample bosom for a quick but affectionate cuddle, "now you just go an' sit yourself down, lover boy, while I get us both a nice mug of tea and some bacon and eggs to keep up that wonderful pecker of yours."
         James dissolved into a bright shade of pink embarrassment whilst the lads gave him some begrudging nods and envious glances. Auntie Chris's very abundant favours were not bestowed on everyone, only the very lucky few, in fact they couldn't think of anyone who actually had been so lucky, when it came down to it.
             James had scored big ... In more ways than one ... he inwardly preened like some over-feathered peacock at this sudden rise in stature among his new peers and he noticed that all the girls in the group were also giving him the once over, and maybe a twice over.
              'Auntie Chris,' he thought, 'I owe you one, and after last night, and this morning,  I am really looking forward to paying my debt in full, maybe twice for good luck.'
             He sat quietly smirking to himself, like the mouse who had found the cheese, or the cat who had found the mouse.
              Christine arrived with the breakfasts and elbowed her ample attributes in between the lads so she could sit next to James and beamed across at an unhappy-looking Penny who was sitting with her boyfriend Zeke.
             "Thanks for inviting James up to Ingleton, Penny, he's really enjoying his birthday presents," Christine emphasised the plurality of presents, as opposed to present, the subtlety being lost on everyone but Penny.
            "You're welcome," Penny smiled through tight lips, barely concealing her disappointment at losing her bit-on-the-side, to Auntie Chris, of all people, and she was showing a remarkable display of self-control.
               All thoughts of her getting it off with James now seemed pretty remote, especially with the way that Christine was stuck to his arm like some limpet on a ship's bottom ... 'And such a very nice bottom,' she thought, 'but it should have been my bottom, I did all the work, it's just not fair.'

               "Okay, Ramblers," Spud paused until he was certain he had got everyone's attention, "seeing as it's such a nice day, I thought we could all go up the valley for a swim in the Water Hole ... and if we take a rope or two we can teach young James here the rudiments of caving ... while we indulge in the more hedonistic pursuits of skinny dipping and beer, agreed?"
                "Agreed," they all chorused.
                "Jules, bring your guitar, and your latest renditions," ordered Spud, and I'll pop up the 'Drunken Duck' and get us a few bottles of beer."
                  "Are you old enough to drink, James, you don't look old enough to drink?" he enquired.
                "It was his 18th birthday last week," piped up Penny, and then went quiet as she noticed Zeke was looking at her in a quizzical manner and one could see the cogs turning as he assessed how she could know this intimate detail.
                 "And if he isn't old enough, he's certainly big enough," chortled Auntie Chris, looking at Penny and rubbing salt into the wounds. There was little love lost between these two, and Auntie Chris was definitely on a winning streak.
               The rest all laughed at the joke as they were completely unaware of the rivalry between the two girls and this little tête-à-tête went straight over their heads.
               On the way out of the café Zeke side-lined James and asked in a conspiratorial way, "Was Auntie Chris a good shag then?" not ever having had the pleasure himself, or ever likely to when it came down to it.
              James looked him straight in the eye and smiled in a most condescending manner and while: 'Mind your own freaking business,' was what raced through his mind, the words: "The Best Ever."  was what actually came out of his mouth, and they were said with such conviction it surprised even himself.
               But it was perfectly true, actually, and the fact that it was his 'Only Time Ever.' was for James to know, and a thoroughly deflated Zeke to wonder about.
              Auntie Chris, who had been ear-wigging, smiled to herself,  'That's my boy, I owe you one, young James, and before I go back home to Rawtenstall tonight, I'm going to make sure that you get it, the best one you've ever had.'

    The Water Hole was a magnificent recreation spot for the Ramblers, well hidden away up a tumbling river bottom, in a deep limestone gorge not far out of the village, up the Waterfalls Walk. Steep sided cliffs ensured complete privacy and few people knew about it, not even some the locals and those who did know about it had to be young and fit enough to climb down the steep river banks if they wanted to join them and enjoy its benefits.
            The Ramblers arrived and Spud set about tying a rope to a stout tree on the side of the path.  He tied a knot in the bottom of the rope and lowered it down the slope to the river below as a hand-line. Jules slung his guitar over his shoulder and proceeded to go down, closely followed by Zeke, Tich, Chunky, Penny, Pauline, Valerie, Jules, Rita and Christine, who showed remarkable dexterity for a girl of her ample attributes.
              "Why did you tie a knot in the bottom of the rope?" James asked Spud before getting hold of the rope himself.

              "Habit, I suppose," said Spud, "it's what we do when we are abseiling to make absolutely sure that we don't come off the end of the rope still half way down a pitch, if it doesn't actually reach the bottom of the drop, that is, because the knot won't go through any of the rappelling machines."
              "I mean to say, it's bloody dangerous running out of rope when you're still twenty feet up from the bottom of a big vertical drop. We've had a few broken ankles in caving before someone figured that one out, I can tell you."
               "Hell, it might be bloody embarrassing getting hung up on the rope and having all your mates take the piss out of you, but it sure beats the indignity of breaking your ankles and having to be rescued by the CRO, God bless 'em."
                "The CRO?"
               "The Cave Rescue Organisation. Mostly fellow cavers who turn out to rescue other cavers who get trapped, or fall off, or whatever... hell, we mostly rescue animals for local farmers that fall down potholes, but occasionally we have to rescue some bloody idiot who should have known better."
                 "By we ...  do you mean you're in the CRO?"
                "Of course I am ... most cavers are ... it's all voluntary ... a good laugh usually ... except late on a cold, wet Saturday night when we're all as pissed as farts and the call-out-man comes knocking on your door."  Spud shuddered at the thought, of putting on wet caving gear on some desolate windswept freezing-cold moor.

                 "They are very, very professional actually. Been at it since 1935, I think it was? There were four wardens to start with ... Reg Hainsworth, and Norman Thornber ... the one who did Pennine Underground, the Potholer's Bible which listed all the known caves at the time .... then there was Godfrey Wilson, and of course, Tot Lord ... God, he was a character and a half ... found loads of Roman and pre-historic artefacts up at Attamire Scar ... some say he used to be Black Rose Jed's mentor, but of course he was an old man by then and didn't actually go caving anymore."
                "And not forgetting Bill Mitchell ... he was editor of the Dalesman, the local magazine for Yorkshire folk ... and although he didn't do any proper caving he organised fund raising ... which was really needed then.  I remember he persuaded a load of National Newspapers to contribute fifty quid apiece to be kept informed of what the CRO was up to ... and that bought them their first second-hand four wheel drive Landrover."

      "Now-a-days they have a fleet of them and more modern equipment than you can poke a stick at ... times have changed ... and as far as equipment is concerned ... for the better."

                "Anyway, enough reminiscing, come on, it's your turn, let's have you down this rope," he commanded, eagerly looking forward to a swim and a frolic with the girls.
               James arrived at the bottom of the slope to find a  large dark pool of almost still water, which looked and meant that it was bloody deep, and somewhat sinister to boot, but on the far side he could see a secluded grassy bank on which the girls were already sunning themselves, having stripped off to nothing more than their bra and panties.
               The bare-chested lads had rigged up a rope over the pool from one side to the other, and were busily swinging out over the river and landing in the pool with large splashes.
           The method in their madness was hopefully to wet the girl's underwear and make it see-through and it was working a treat already and James contented himself with just sitting there and getting the proverbial eye-full ... as the girls shrieked with each wetting ... and pretended they didn't know what was going on, and loving every provocative minute of it.

              Spud rudely interrupted his simple pleasure by saying: "Okay, James, time to learn your first knot for potholing ... the Blindman's Bowline ... it's an absolutely lifesaver and you must know how to do it without even thinking."
             "You put the rope round your waist, long rope in your left hand, the end bit in your right hand, twist the left-hand rope into a loop with the right-hand end which you then put down underneath the left hand rope, back up through the loop and pull it tight like this ... hey Presto ... the Blindman's Bowline."

           "And if you want to be doubly sure, you can always take the loose end back around your waist again then back up and through the loop again and pull it tight into a Double Bowline ... but the Blindman's Bowline is usually enough in an emergency."
           James was impressed with the demonstration, no sooner had Spud said it, than he done it.
            "Now you do it." said Spud, and handed James the end of the rope.
           James laboriously carried out the necessary steps to complete the knot, and much to Spud's amazement, he actually did it on the first attempt, although it did take absolutely ages to finish and tighten it to his satisfaction.           
            "Okay, James, you now need to practice that until you're much quicker, and then do it with your eyes closed."
             "With my eyes closed?"
             "Yes, this is a Blindman's Bowline, you have to be able to tie it in complete darkness if necessary, it could, no, it will save your life, one day."
           James sat on the ledge perfecting his bowline while the lads were having a great time enticing, or throwing the girls into the pool. They were all excellent swimmers, and the girls were giving as much as they got. He envied them their skill, not being much of a swimmer himself ... that is ... if being able to stay afloat for a few minutes actually counted as being able to swim in the present company.
        James closed his eyes and finally did the knot perfectly, time after time, after time. Feeling quite proud of himself he opened his eyes to find Penny stood in front of him with her bra in her hand, and a pout on her sensuous lips.
        "Silly bra keeps coming off," she pouted, standing there in front of his eyes and making no attempt whatever to cover her pert pear-shaped breasts with the wet bra, in fact she was posing for him in a most provocative manner, as a saucy reminder of what he was missing. It looked like Penny wasn't going to give up on him that easily ... her panties were as transparent as her bra and James was rising to the occasion, if you know what I mean?
          "How's the knot going?" said Spud, coming to his rescue.
         "Okay, I can do it blind fold, with my eyes shut," James said, 'And with my legs crossed,' he thought.
         "That great," said Spud, "now take hold of this rope and let's see you do it underwater." with which he simply pushed James off the ledge into the deepest part of the pool.
          James came to the surface, gasping for air like a fish out of water, "God, this water's bloody cold," he spluttered, but it had certainly cooled his ardour, if you know what I mean? ... then he remembered .......
           "I can't bloody swim," he gurgled.
           "Stop pissing about," ordered Spud, "close your eyes, get back under the water, and let's see you do a Blindman's Bowline in a real-life situation, then we'll haul you out."
           "If you look like you're drowning," he added "we can always fish you out of there, but it's more difficult down a pitch-black cave when you're on your lonesome, right?"
          James stopped his teeth chattering and did as he was instructed, sinking under the water as he used both hands to tie the knot. The lads then commenced to haul him out of the pool and left him to lie on the bank with Auntie Chris doting over him like some broody hen whilst he attempted to get warmed up in the Summer sunshine.
           "You stupid bugger, Spud, you could have drowned him," chided Christine, "he's only a beginner," and James confirmed her statement by coughing up loads of water, as if on cue.
           "He's alright, aren't you James?" affirmed Spud.
           James nodded in agreement, but quickly retreated back into the warmth of Christine's motherly embrace, before Spud could come up with any more suggestions.
            Jules played the guitar and they all sang along with such favourites as, 'Balls to Cravenford Pothole Club', 'Oh Sir Jasper do not touch me', and other boisterous 'Rugby-Type' renditions until the meagre supply of beer that Spud had acquired from the 'Drunken Duck' ran out and they lay back to enjoy the sunshine and the companionship of their friends.

          Spud had a quiet word with Chunky and Tich, "That lad James is a bloody natural if ever I saw one. Did you see how quickly he picked that up? At least we know he's reasonably safe and conscientious. Perhaps we should take him underground tomorrow, a touch of SRT, a bit of laddering, a quick dip in a sump somewhere, what do you think, might make a good addition to the Ramblers?"
             They nodded their agreement.
             "Tich, is that a Figure of Eight on your sling?"
             "Yes."
            "Okay then, how about taking James back up the slope and teaching him how to abseil back down again for a while, then we'll dangle him over that tricky overhang over yonder and see how he copes with that?"
             "Right ... come on James," said Tich "we're going to play at abseiling," as he forcibly dragged a very reluctant James away from a very clinging Christine.

         "WAROOOOOMPH" ... they all ducked involuntary as a Tornado roared overhead at tree top height.
           "That happened to me yesterday as well," said James, "does it happen every day up here, then?"
            "Sure does," said Tich, "as regular as clock-work, and always closely followed by his mates,"  .... he paused ... "anytime ... now!"

         "WAROOOOOMPH" .. they all ducked again even though they knew the other Tornados were coming, the raw power of those engines leaving them with little alternative.
          "God, that's low," exclaimed Chunky, "if he was any lower we could hit him with a rock, and if we had a rocket launcher they would both be dead ducks by now, bang, bang, you're dead."
           "You get used to it, James, and when all's said and done, they are our fighters," injected Zeke, "and to tell the truth I quite like the idea that they are ours, and we wouldn't want them to be anybody else's, would we now? ... I think not."
           James said nothing about having this happen to him every day on Baycliffe Island and he had figured out they were the same Tornados, 'Well, how long does it take to travel forty miles at four hundred miles per hour?'  About six minutes from now they would be thundering over his home.
           'Give my love to mum,' he thought, 'and to Tornado dog, and don't let her catch you,' he smiled at the thought.

          "So, come on James," said Tich, picking up the end of the rope, "let's have you up this rope, 'cos we are going to take you caving tomorrow, and you need to know how to do a few things before we actually get you underground."

           'Tich' was a misnomer for a big lad built something like a brick outhouse, who reminded James of the 'Little John' out of the Tales of Robin Hood, but he was certainly nimble for his size.
           "We'll start with just walking up and down this bank on the rope," said Tich, "and then we'll go over the gorge and dangle you over the cliffs for a bit of free-fall abseiling, for a laugh, and see what you're made of, eh?"
           "Fair enough," said James, quite looking forward to it.
           "I knew a fairy once," said Tich, "and her name was Nuff ... Fairy Nuff?"
           James laughed.
          'Aren't these silly buggers ever serious,' he thought, 'they're always joking, or taking the piss out of each other, and each giving as good as they get.'
         "Now listen carefully, James, free-fall abseiling's a bit like skydiving, if at first you don't succeed, we all stand around and take bets on how high you bounce," chortled Tich, knowing full well that with a Figure of Eight it was virtually impossible to fall off the rope ... but getting young James hyped up with a bit of fear-induced adrenalin couldn't do any harm, and would make him aware of the seriousness of hanging over a high cliff on a precariously thin bit of rope.

         James took to abseiling like a duck takes to water. A couple of early attempts when he bounced up and down on the free- hanging rope like some kiddie's Yo-Yo but from then on it was smooth sailing all the way.
          'Very nice,' thought Tich, 'the kid's a natural.'
          "Tomorrow we will teach you how to climb back up the rope instead of having to keep walking round and coming back up the slope," laughed Tich.
         "Heh, Tich, you're not going to believe this, there's a bloody hen nesting on a ledge, down here," James shouted up the cliff.
          "Yep, there's lots of them about round here, they've gone wild, nobody can get at them down here in the gorge, but be careful because they can get really stroppy when they want to, and she'll have your eyes out, before you know it," Tich's disembodied voice floated down from above, "the bloody cockerels are bad enough, but those broody hens are in a class of their own, talk about chicks with attitude?"
        "Okay," said James, giving the hen a wide berth as she fixed  him with her beady orange stare, sort of saying: "Come on punk, make my day."
        "I remember there was a story about Black Rose Jed in an old edition of Descent, the caving magazine, a long time ago, he was crawling up a drain round here, somewhere, and went head-to-head with a broody hen that saw him off in no uncertain manner, and God, it took a lot to see him off," he added in admiration, "he was a nutter of the first order, was that lad, show him any kind of hole, cave, drain, mine, he didn't give a damn, he was up it like a ferret up your trouser leg."
         "A bit like Spud with women, eh?" laughed James.
        "Aw, don't let the bravado fool you, Spud's all talk, it's all a big act with him," Tich laughed, "if any of the girls did flash their tits at him he'd probably run a mile, and they know it, that's why they tease him so, but don't let on I told you ... he's one hell-of-a nice bloke on the quiet, is our Spud, but he's really the marrying kind, his first love will probably be his last, and only, forever."
         "Well, he had me fooled, and no mistake," laughed James.
       "Anyway, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, the Secret Caverns of Black Rose Jed are supposed to be up one of these drains, down in the valley bottom here, but everybody's looked, and they've never found anything at all, except maybe those old dug-out caverns up on Shaws Common but they didn't amount to much, and they definitely weren't the Secret Caverns, although a lot of people thought they were when they were first reopened, a few years back."
           "That's interesting," said James out loud, while thinking to himself, 'So the Secret Caverns come all the way down here to the river then, do they? ... now that's very interesting,' and was tempted to say something, but he kept his mouth very firmly shut ... for now, at least.

          Auntie Chris appeared on the cliff top and shouted down, "Got to go home now, James, are you going to help me pack up my tent and stuff?"
          "Off you go James," Tich smiled knowingly, "duty calls, I'll tidy up here, while you tidy up there, ha-ha."
         'Always joking,' thought James as he de-kitted himself of the abseiling paraphernalia, harness and crabs (karabiners) and scurried off up the slope to meet Christine, whereupon they walked hand in hand back to the campsite and her tent.
          The promised love-making was wonderfully sweet, unhurried and everything young love should be ... and James was one happy camper ... and then Auntie Chris landed her bombshell.
            "I have to get back home tonight because my husband is coming home from the States ... he works out there on weapons development with the Yanks ... and I only ever see him every three months ... but I thought I better tell you before we got too serious ... and I'm beginning to get over-fond of you James ... you lovely man ... and that would never do ...  but I hope you understand ... and we can stay as friends ... the Ramblers don't know I'm married ... you've gone very quiet ... James?"

            Christine had paused at frequent intervals to let James respond but he was left speechless, as an hitherto unknown gambit of conflicting emotion ran riot through his whole body and kicked gaping holes in the fabric of his newly-found happiness.
            He didn't know wether to be angry, or sad, and he had never felt so miserable in his whole young life, and it hurt so much ... it hurt terribly ... and he was devastated.
           The misery must have shown in his tear-filled eyes and Christine pulled him to her bosom and said: "I'm sorry, James, I never intended for it to get serious, but you're such a wonderfully sweet lad that I got carried away with the rapture of it all, can you please forgive me?"
           James managed to pull himself together.
          'Stiff upper lip old chap, take it like a man,' he thought, which is ... 'feeling like shit but managing to drag a brave smile on to one's face.'
            "Hell, Christine, that was such a shock, I thought we had something special going?" he muttered in a wounded manner, his head down, not looking in her eyes for fear of his bursting into tears, again.
           "That was the trouble, my love," she whispered, "you were getting to be too special ... but I know that I really love my husband ... but I was lonely and you were so sweet ... but this can not be, and it was best ended before you got the wrong idea, and at times one has to be cruel to be kind ... I hope you understand, I'm sorry, but you'll get over me soon enough ... what you are experiencing is called puppy love ... I know because I've been there ... and I know how much it still hurts ... can you ever forgive me?"
            "Of course I can ... but hell, you can't just leave flat, Christine, forever, just like that ... if I give you my address will you write to me, at least you can do that for me?" he pleaded, as the hurt in his soulful come-to-bed eyes melted her resolve.
            "Okay," said Christine, taking the easy way out, "if you give me your address I will drop you a line, and when I come back up here after my husband's gone back to the States ... perhaps ... but no promises ... then we can maybe get together again, but it must be no strings attached, you understand, and please don't tell the Ramblers I'm married, okay?"
              An arrangement that most blokes would have been over the moon about, but this had been James' first 'true' love, don't you know, and his heart was still broken, never ever to mend, he felt sure, but it would mend, Christine knew it, and I know, and you know it, but he didn't know it, not as yet anyway.
             "Sounds good to me," beamed James, feeling a bit better after the initial shock, and he wrote down his works address for her, not wanting his mum to know of his fan mail ... from a married woman? ... She'd wop the living daylights out of him.
             They packed up Christine's tent and walked to the bus together, hand in hand, and they had one last heart-wrenching, full on the mouth, don't give a damn who's watching kiss, and he struggled to hold back the tears as she boarded the bus and it sped off into the distance, with her giving him a final parting wave from the rear window, and the heart went out of him.

CHAPTER SIX

Twins a Go-Go.

       James walked backed to the café with a weary heart which reflected in his weary tread. Head down, heart broken, a pathetic individual if ever there was one. The poor lad was gutted like a Morecambe Bay flat-fish. The best thing ever to come into his young life had just walked out of it, pardon me, ridden out of it on  a bus actually, to go back to her husband ... she was married and had a bloody husband.
        Twenty-four hours of mind-blowing sex, no, it was more than that, it was love, he was in love ... well ... more like infatuation, puppy love, but he didn't know the difference ... and what the hell, it still hurt as much as the real thing ... and now it was all over as quickly as it had begun  ...  life sucked ... and he sulked away to himself with a pouting lip, like a little boy who has lost his favourite teddy bear. His young life had ended.
         Well now, was somebody feeling really sorry for themselves, or what? ... you could bet your bottom dollar on it ... and apart from that ... there was a more pressing problem ... "Where the hell was he going to sleep tonight?"

         James pulled himself together, wiped his face dry of tears, and walked into the café where he saw  the Ramblers over by the fireplace in their favourite corner, upon which he gave them a wave and went up to the counter to get a mug of tea.
          A tall, slender, good-looking brunette was standing at the counter, sort of at an angle so she could watch what was going on in the café ... as she waited patiently for Ernie to bring her order from the kitchen.
          "Hello," she said to James, politely, "I won't be a minute, the man is bringing my order, and I am Olga, I am here on holiday with my sister Ulrike, we are from Norway, it is very nice here, yes?"
          "Hello, Olga?" replied James, still a bit under the weather, but thinking to himself, 'The English is quite excellent but the Norwegian accent was unmistakable.'
          "Tea please, Ernie," James said, as Ernie appeared from the kitchen with two cheese-on-toast which he put in front of Olga, and added: "Yes, it is very nice here, are you staying here long in the Yorkshire Dales?"
           "No, we are going to the Lake District tomorrow."
          "I was born in the Lake District," offered James, "it is a very nice place up there as well."
          "Oh, that is wonderful," enthused Olga, "you must come and meet my sister and tell us where we must go, and what we must see in your Lake District, it is beautiful, yes?"
         "Okay, Olga, by the way my name is James," he said, grabbing his tea, and feeling much better, already, and following her over to where her sister was sitting, engrossed in looking at a photo-album, of sorts?
          "Ulrike, this is James, he is going to tell us all about the Lake District, he was born there, and he knows all about it."
        'Well, hardly all about it,' James thought, but didn't contradict when he saw her sister and was taken aback, a little lost for words at what he saw.
           Ulrike looked up and smiled: "Hello, how wonderful."
         'Ye gods,' thought James, 'deja vu, bloody identical twins, now who says that good things don't come in twos?' and he was feeling so much better by now.

         "Bugger me," said Spud to the Ramblers, "will you look at that," pointing over at James getting on like a house on fire with the two Norwegian girls, "here's me, getting myself all fired up to go over and charm those two new girls into a night of sexual ecstasy, and in waltzes young James and steals them right from under my nose ... what the hell has he got that I haven't?"
         "It's called sweet innocence, Spud," laughed Rita as the other girls nodded in agreement, "he's a pretty boy, a real sweetie, girls just want to eat him up with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes of his, and I'm as miffed as you are, because I was going to throw my hat into the ring for him myself as soon as he came back from seeing Christine off home on the bus."
         'Get in line,' thought Pauline and Valerie simultaneously as they both nodded in agreement again, and Penny ... she looked very unhappy and thought: 'This is just not bloody fair.'
         "But I've got everything a girl could possibly want," pleaded Spud, "I'm handsome ... muscular ... a big dangler, what more could a girl possibly want?" he laughed.
         "And don't forget modesty," Pauline came in as sharp as a rapier, "but it's been a very long time since you had that little ingredient called innocence, you old reprobate."
        They all collapsed in laughter.

        James spent a very pleasant few minutes telling his very attentive audience of two all about the Lake District, and how he lived on an island there, and how it was a pity they didn't have time to visit him and go bathing on the beach.
        "But enough of me, so what do you do for a job in Norway then?" James asked Olga, eager to find out more about this lovely pair, thoughts of Christine disappearing more with each second, as we had all known it would.
        "Oh we don't work in Norway, James, we work in England, we model lingerie and swimsuits for a Catalogue Company ... show him the book with our swimsuit photographs, Ulrike," she commanded her sister.

         "Here you are James, these are our swimsuits for next year's collection which we did last month," said Ulrike, sliding the large book across the table, "They are nice, are they not?"
         "Very nice," answered James, with the typical unspoken male response of, 'My God, and the bloody swimsuits are not that bad either.'
          "So, which hotel are you staying at James, perhaps we can all go for a proper drink, Ulrike, you and myself, and talk some more of the Lake District, would you like that?"
        "Yes I would love to go for a drink with you, Olga," James hesitated, "but I'm not stopping at a hotel, in fact I'm not stopping anywhere, you see, I was staying with my friend in a tent, but my friend has gone home now, and I have no idea where I am going to sleep tonight."
        Olga looked at Ulrike, who promptly nodded agreement to the unspoken question in a way that all twin sisters seem to possess, and shook James rigid by saying: "You can stay with us tonight, if you want, we have two beds in our room, but we only ever use one of them, because Ulrike and myself have always slept together in one bed, and we have done this since we were little children in Norway, is that not so, Ulrike?"
          "We do everything together," confirmed Ulrike, "we like the same food, the same clothes, and we even have the same taste in men, and this is because we are twins, I think."
       James smiled an acknowledgement, and nodded as if he understood ... did she say everything? ... and ... meanwhile  his mind was working overtime at the thought of just what did she mean by 'they do everything together', and all he could manage to think of was, 'Bloody Nora.'

       Spud came to his rescue with, "Hey James, we're all going up the Drunken Duck, and we thought you might want to bring your new friends along?" he said, hoping desperately to latch on to one of the twins ... hell, he didn't care which one ... not realising that the twins were one-man girls, and at that point in time, neither did James, but the twins ... well, they had already decided who that one man was going to be, and that was James.
       "Do you want to come up the pub with my friends?" James asked Olga, or was in Ulrike?
       "Yes that would be nice, but we will all have to be in bed early tonight because we are leaving so early in the morning, is that okay with you, James?"
       "Okay with me girls, you just say when you want to go, and off we go, no problem." said James.
       "Who's all?" whispered Spud.
       "Just me and the girls," whispered James, choosing his words very carefully, "they've offered me their bed for the night."
      "Bloody Nora," exploded Spud, so loudly that everybody in the café stopped whatever they were doing and looked at him ... he lowered his voice, "you've only known them five minutes, and what do you mean, their bed?" he whispered.
       "They sleep together in the same bed," said James, "but I think they both like me and they are willing to share and share alike, and being the gentleman that I am, how could I refuse?"
        "Bloody Nora," sighed a resigned Spud, "I'm off up the pub."

       When James finally arrived up at the pub with an attentitive twin clinging like, some clinging vine, to each arm he found the Ramblers in their usual back-room haunt with Jules thrashing out the old favourites on his guitar, with Balls to Cravenford Pothole Club being in there somewhere, if it hadn't already started the merriment.
        Landlady Colleen gave James and his new friends a friendly welcoming smile, but especially James.
        'Nice woman,' he thought, 'I bet she was a handful and a half when she was younger, and she's still a handsome looking woman now, far too good for that misery guts of a husband, Paddy.' 
      The landlord Paddy gave him such a long disdainful, disapproving, blatantly obvious, I'm-jealous-to-death, you bloody young pup, sort of a scowl at seeing him in the company of such a bevy of beauties, that James was quite taken aback at it.
        'What a miserable bastard, he is,' thought James, 'I just can't imagine what Colleen sees in him, as different as chalk and cheese, the miserable old git,' what with Paddy being in his late Thirties, even early Forties maybe.

         "Could I have a pint of Wanker's Best Bitter, Paddy, and girls?" he turned towards them, still not believing his luck, "what do you fancy?" asked James.
        "Same for us, James," came a stereo reply, "but it's our treat, we must pay for these, for all that you are doing for us."
         Well, the look on Paddy' face at that remark had to be seen to be believed and James thought he was going to explode with green-eyed envy and the pub would be covered with slime.
        "So, that will three pints please, Paddy," he smirked, laying it on with a shovel.
        "That's Mister Paddy to you, okay?" Paddy said, sullenly.
        James shrugged a silent, 'Up yours, you miserable sod.'
        And not allowing his distress to affect their fun, James and the twins retired to the back room to join in the sing song, and the Ramblers all shuffled round on the benches to let them in, with Spud making sure he got to sit next to Olga, or was it Ulrike, hell he didn't really care which it was.
        "The landlord, he is not a very nice man," said Ulrike.
         Olga nodded her agreement, "is that because he is a  man from Ireland, how do you say, an Irishman?"
         "Naw," said Spud, "most of the Irish men that I know are really friendly, likable characters, Paddy is just a first rate pratt."
          "Pratt?" asked Olga.
          "A pillock," said Pauline.
          "Pillock? asked Ulrike.
          "First in line to be Henry'd," said Tich
          The Ramblers broke down it fits of laughter at this as the twins looked even more confused then ever.
          "Henry'd?" the twins pleaded.
           "Due for a birthday kiss," said Chunky.
           "They broke the mould before they made him," said Rita.
           "He's got both keys, but neither of them fit," said Penny.
           "Two litres short of a pint," said Zeke.
           "A metre short of a foot," said Valerie
           "Ten rungs short of a big pitch," said Rita.
           "As big a  wanker as his beer," Jules added.
          "They are trying to say that you are right, and he is not a very nice man," said James.
           The twins nodded understandingly, and James thought to himself, 'you know, nobody likes Mister Paddy, and there has got to be a bloody good reason for that,' but the twins demanded his attention and he put it out of his mind.

        The next hour was a riot or fun and innuendo as the Ramblers let their hair down with a vengeance and everybody in the vicinity had a great time. Everybody in the pub, even the locals, liked the Ramblers, everyone that is except Paddy Kirtbits, and he could take a long hike as far as they were concerned, and forget to ever come back again.
          Spud chanced his luck with the twins yet again, but struck out, yet again, as the twins were stuck together as if super-glued, and they couldn't be separated, one from the other, not for love nor money, much to Spud's chagrin.
          All too soon Olga got up and said, "James it is getting late," taking him by the arm, "and we all have to be up early in the morning, so if you are ready, Ulrike, you and myself, we should all go to bed now, if that is okay with you?"
         "That's okay with me," said James, grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the way she put things, and the bemused expressions on the faces of his fellow Ramblers, "Good night everyone, see you in Ernie's in the morning for breakfast," and he made a point of saying good night to Colleen on the way out, and she smiled her appreciation in no uncertain manner, and Paddy just scowled.
          "Bloody Nora," exclaimed Spud, "I need another beer."
          "And a cold shower," said Penny aloud, and the Ramblers collapsed in a heap in riotous laughter, but she was thinking to herself, 'It's just not fair, damn it, it's just not bloody fair.'

     The girls sneaked James surreptitiously through the hotel lobby and they headed upstairs to their room on the first floor, not needing to pick up a key from reception.
        "I need a shower," said Olga, and promptly disappeared into the bathroom.
        "You can have this bed, James," Ulrike said, patting the duvet cover. and he gratefully sat down on its warm springy softness and rooted through his rucksack in a vain attempt to find some clean underpants and socks for in the morning.
         "I will need to find the Laundrette, in the morning," he said, "my underwear is in need of a good washing."
         "You can use some of ours, we have plenty, we get lots of underwear for free with our job," Ulrike laughed, and James laughed with her until he suddenly realised she was deadly serious, when she laid out a selection of 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers on the bed, so very ultra-feminine, but also sensible, and usable by men, when needs must, and it did.
       James was taken aback, more than ever so slightly for having an array of girl's silk knickers put in front of him to chose from was not an every-day occurrence where he came from.

          "Take the lot, James, we have plenty more," she said.
         "Thanks," he said out loud, not daring to refuse the offer, and quickly consigning them to the depths of his rucksack.
        'Oh my God,' he thought, ' at least one pair of these are the transparent see-through sort, if I arrive home in those my mum will have a  fit ... and if the lads from the Ramblers ever find out about this I will never hear the last of it.'

          Olga returned from the her shower in the bathroom and simply added to his consternation, and then some.
           In all of the old films and TV movies that James had ever seen the sensuous woman always steps out of the shower provocatively draped in a strategically placed white towel, very nice, very provocative and very proper.
            Well Olga had obviously never seen that film.
           Oh yes, she had the towel all right, but she was using it to dry her hair, and she was completely naked from the neck down, all matching collar and cuffs, if you know what I mean?
         "You can use the shower now, Ulrike," she said, "the water is still hot," and she walked across in front of James and sat on the stool in front of the dressing table mirror, dropped the towel to the floor, unscrewed the tops off a variety of bottles and started doing all the sort of things that women do with such stuff.
           Ulrike vanished into the bathroom.
         James ogled Olga, watching her every move in fascination, when he wasn't just admiring her tits, that is. They were much different to Christine's abundance in that Olga's tits were petite, but perfectly formed, and they would make a nice comfortable handful, he mused, and he presumed that Ulrike's tits were exactly the same.
        Olga shattered his musing by saying: "We have an electric kettle over there on the bedside table, James, would you like to make us all a drink? ... there are tea bags, instant coffee, milk and sugar on the tray and you can fill the kettle with water in the bathroom."
       "Okay," said James, looking anywhere but at her nice tits.
        James got the kettle and walked into the bathroom, out of the frying pan and into the fire, except this time Ulrike, unlike her sister,  didn't even have a towel, only a big uninhibited smile, and there was no doubt they were identical in every way.
           "Make mine a coffee, James, with no milk or sugar," she grinned, "because how do you English say, I'm sweet enough, is that not right, yes, I am sweet enough?"
        "Yes, that's right," smiled James, "no doubt about it, you are sweet enough just as you are, Ulrike."
       "Here," she said, taking the kettle from him, "I'm finished with the shower, you can use it now ... oh, pardon me, the soap has fallen down in the bath," and she bent over to pick up the soap and James' eyes stood out like pitted olives on matchsticks ... and then she put the soap in his hand and brushed past him in all her magnificent nakedness ... and left him to cool off his ardour in sizzling solitude, if you get what I mean?

        James quickly finished his shower and came back into the bedroom, strategically draped in a towel, and who says the English aren't inhibited, and stopped dead in his tracks.
        Olga was laying on the bed, or was it Ulrike, face down, completely naked, and her sister was sat astride of her, completely naked, massaging her back with ... James sniffed ... Lavender essential oil ... he knew that because his mother was into aromatherapy and she used it in an oil burner.
        'Bloody Nora,' he thought, 'they're lesbians,' but he was so wrong, as time would tell.
       "This is how we relax in Norway, James, with a nice massage, so if you like to lie down on the bed we will give you a 'Norwegian' massage, it's just like a 'Swedish' massage only much sexier," grinned Olga, or was is Ulrike? Hell, he didn't really care anymore?
        "Try anything once," said James laying face down on the bed but being very careful to leave his towel on, "please, be gentle with me."
        "These Englishmen, they are so very shy, Olga," said Ulrike to her sister as they both came over to the bed and hovered above him, and he waited with baited breath wondering what was coming next.
         'Hell,' thought James, 'I should put a different coloured ribbon in their hair so I know which is which,' little realizing that it didn't really matter much whatever he did because they were identical in every way, and that included their ways of doing things, anything and everything, inside and out.
       Olga removed his towel and started to apply oil to his lower back, rubbing it well in with her nimble fingertips, and working her way down, lingering over his cute bum, then down his legs, all the way to his feet.
         Ulrike took the oil bottle, starting where Olga had begun but worked upwards to massage his neck muscles, and James felt himself letting go of his inhibitions as they dissolved under the gentle persuasion of the twin's silky smooth fingertips.
        "Turn over," came a gentle instruction and James complied not caring anymore that his manhood was pointing skywards like some miniature Blackpool Tower.
         The twins laughed delightedly and one of them picked a coin up off of the bedside table, flicked it up in the air and caught in on the back of her wrist whilst covering it with the other hand.
        Her sister said something unintelligible in Norwegian, it sounded like, 'hode',  and Ulrike uncovered her hand to reveal a head on the coin, and then gave a triumphant, "Yes" and switched places with her sister.
        'Strange,' thought James and was taken by surprise as Olga bent over him and placed her sensuous cool lips on his willing mouth, her tongue gently exploring his willingness to play.
         'Wow,' thought James, 'how incredibly cool her lips are, it must be something to do with living in a cold climate, but nice, yes very nice,' and he responded eagerly in kind. 
          'Oops' he felt his foreskin being rolled back, ever so gently, and he appreciated the consideration being shown for such a sensitive and tender part of his anatomy.
         'Wow,' thought James, as another incredibly cool pair of sensuous lips explored his nether regions, her tongue gently exploring his willingness to play their game, and taking him fully into her mouth.
          'Wow, wow, wow,' James quivered at her sensuous touch, and Ulrike savoured every moment of his obvious delight and squirming ecstasy.
           'I guess that Ulrike won the toss,' he thought, and he revelled into the ecstasy of their art.

            James woke up with a start ... not having remembered falling asleep ... and then he realised where he was, all alone in a bed, with the twins in the other bed all wrapped up in each other's close embrace and he noted that he had no clothes on.
         James saw the swimwear catalogue on a chair and he picked it up, quietly, not wanting to disturb the twins, and he came back to bed to browse through it, and while he was ogling the twins in their swimsuits he felt the inevitable morning erection happening.
        The telephone rang loudly giving him a start ... it was the early morning wake-up call that the girls had requested.
        An arm came out from beneath their tangle of bodies, and James couldn't tell which twin it belonged to, but it picked up the phone and lowered it down out of sight under the duvet and a disincarnate voice muttered, "Thank you."
         The duvet fell off bed as the twins arose to stand there in all their delicious nakedness.
         'Snap,'  he thought, 'I was right, their tits are exactly the same,  I am one thoroughly spoilt young man. and I still haven't a clue which one is which.'
         "Morning girls," beamed James, "did you sleep well?"
        "Very well, thank you," said Ulrike, coming over and giving him another fantastic cool-lipped kiss, full on the mouth, and catching him off guard by slipping her hand under the covers and grabbing his manhood.
       "You're right Olga," she affirmed as Olga joined them, "all of our men do wake up with a hard on in the morning."
       "Okay, James," grinned Olga, also giving him the same fantastic cool-lipped kiss, full on the mouth, and a friendly fondle, "do you want to use that now or after you've had a shower?"
        "Do I have a choice?" he grinned.
       Olga looked at Ulrike, "No," they said in unison, and took James on another fantastic trip into their wonderlands.

        Their passions completely sated they all had a shower and James came back into the bedroom where he sat on his bed and picked up the Catalogue.
         "I don't suppose there is any chance of getting a copy of this to remember you by, is there?" James pleaded, hopefully.
         "Well we need this one," said Olga but if you write down  your address we will get the company to send you one."
         "And we'll autograph it for you, as well, with our telephone number in case you are ever down our way, and you can call in and stay the night, that is if you would like to, okay?" added Ulrike, bashfully fluttering her long eyelashes.
          "Yes please," said James, hurriedly, not knowing how or when such a wonderful thing could ever happen to him.
         James wrote down his works address, not daring to have the catalogue sent to his home where his mum might find it.
         "And if you are ever come up my way you must call in and see me," said James, not really believing that they would ever take him up on his offer, "but meanwhile I have your knickers to keep me warm," and he pointed down to a pair he was wearing that Ulrike had given him, and they all laughed as Olga said, "How pretty they are."

         The twins were quite upset that they did have to leave, and given the slightest excuse they would have stayed ... but tearfully they said their goodbyes to James and got into their pre-booked taxi which would take them up to the Lake District.
         The taxi driver tried to start up a conversation with these pair of ravishing beauties, but they were too engrossed in their own thoughts of, 'that James was an absolute sweetie,' to respond and he silently drove off.
          Olga smiled and looked at her sister, whilst raising an eyebrow in a silent question?
         "Yes, I agree," said Ulrike, "I think we may just pay our James a visit in the future, he's a such a sweetie," with which they settled down in their seats for the long journey North.
          James watched the taxi drive out of sight and he turned on his heels and walked up the road towards the sign he was beginning to call home.

Ernie's Café
Run by cavers for cavers.

         "Has James been in yet," Spud asked Ernie, as the Happy Ramblers crowded into the café for breakfast.
          "Not yet ... did he find somewhere to sleep?"
         "Oh yes, he got shacked up with those two Norwegian birds that were in here yesterday, they dragged him off to their hotel and they had their wicked way with him, the lucky sod."
          "What, both of them?"
          "Yep, both of them."
          "Bloody Nora, that's three birds in two days, I don't know what he's on but I could use some of that stuff."
            "Chance would be a fine thing," complained Spud, as  James walked through the door with a big smile on his face.
          "Two birds with one stone I hear, hey, James?" chided Ernie, "you better be careful or it's going to fall off at this rate, then what will the girls do?"
          "The lads are only jealous, Ernie," laughed James.
        "Too right we're bloody jealous, you crumpet stealing varmit," said Spud, "I think a couple of ducks in an ice-cold wet sump today would work wonders to cool off his ardour and save some 'nuckie' for the rest of us, is that right lads?"
         Everybody roared approval in a jovial manner so James presumed it was only friendly banter and Rita was crying out: "Shame, shame, give him to us, we know exactly what James  needs, don't we, ladies?"
         "A lady wouldn't do that sort of thing to him, you shameless hussy," quipped Chunky, and they all fell about laughing, and the girls had a private thought about just what they would do to him, given half a chance, and it went strangely silent.

         "Right," said Spud, getting down to business, "we thought we'd take you down a pothole today, James, and introduce you to some proper vertical shafts, big holes in the ground, anybody got any suggestions, nothing too deep, we don't want to scare the 'bejeezus' out of him on his first trip, we always leave that for the second trip, do we not?"  and everybody laughed.
          "How about Marble Steps," offered Jules, "it's dry, it's big, it's got plenty of pitches, it's safe enough, although Tich nearly got Henry'd last time he was down there, didn't you mate?"
          "I did too," protested Tich, "this bloody rock came out of nowhere and tried to give me a 'birthday kiss' ... it missed me by about that much," he said,  spreading his fingers to about three inches across to make the point.
         "Missed you by about a Spud's length then." said Rita wickedly, and they all laughed at Spud's embarrassment.
         "Who bit your bum?" enquired Spud, looking all aggrieved, "or maybe it's really a case of who hasn't been biting your bum of late, that's more like it, hey?"
         They all laughed at Rita's embarrassment, because she hadn't been getting any of late, either, and that could make Rita the man-eater pretty tetchy.
          "We could take him down Rowten Pot, that's a nice straight shaft to the bottom, sort of straight, anyway, give or take a wiggle here and there," added Chunky.
           "We could take him down Aquamole," suggested Penny, "but Tich always gets stuck in that tight bit."
           "I think our Robin gave it a seeing to with some Hilte Caps last week, and enlarged in a bit, so that wouldn't be a problem," said Tich, "but the Mole's a bit heavy for a first trip, isn't it?"
           There were nods of agreement.
          "Or Alum Pot," said Pauline, "that's a nice big daylight shaft ... there's a photo of it somewhere  ... on the wall ... yes, over there, look ... in winter ... all pretty and covered with snow ... that tiny red spot is Chunky going down the main shaft ... what do you think of that then, James?"

           "Kin' ell, Pauline, that's huge," exclaimed James.
          "That's what we said the very first time we saw Chunky, as well," said Pauline, and they all broke down in fits of laughter, again, and Chunky blushed a pretty shade of crimson.
           'That makes a change to me blushing,' thought James.
         "Sod'n ell, aren't you people ever serious?" laughed James, "but actually I have a big shaft of my own that I'd like to go down today, if that's alright by you lot?"
         "Where's that then? asked Tich.
         "In George's Old Cave," said James lowering his voice.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Giants Hall.

         "In George's Old Cave," echoed the Ramblers, in unison.
      "There aren't any pitches in George's Old Cave," Zeke protested, "it's a rising, the water comes out of the entrance, there can't be any pitches going down, the cave goes up hill all the way following the stream up under the mountain."
        "I found a big pitch in the cave on Saturday when I was up there on my own."
       "But that's impossible, James," said Zeke sternly, "I'm a geologist and what you are saying is just impossible, because George's Old Cave is sat on a bed of impermeable volcanic slate and there is no way you can have potholes it that kind of rock, you need limestone."
         "The pitch is in the limestone," insisted James.
        "There is no limestone under George's Old Cave, James," grated Zeke getting really angry, and the others were beginning to look decidedly uncomfortable.
         "Yes there is, the limestone comes all the way right down to the edge of Ingleton village."
            "But that's a different block of limestone to the one that George's Old Cave is in, and there is a huge geological fault line running between them which keeps them apart so they don't join up," insisted Zeke.
         "Yes, I know that, I read the book, but they do join up, I was in there on Saturday," James persisted.
         "Bullshit," Zeke spat the word out like a bullet.
        "Maybe he was in another cave," said Janine, who had come into the café upon hearing the disturbing change in atmosphere to the normal jovial repartee among the Ramblers, and the other girls murmured their agreement in support of this way out of the dilemma.
         "No, it was definitely George's Old Cave," said James.
         "Bollacks," said Zeke, pulling no punches.
        "And I also found this," added James, carefully unzipping his jacket pocket and putting the disc of Black Rose Jed on the table in front of them.
         A deathly silence filled the room and Ernie even looked round to see if his disc was still there above the counter, and it was still there, so it wasn't his disc.
        "Well, bugger me sideways," said Spud, "that puts a very different complexion on things, does it not Zeke?"
         "Still can't believe it," said Zeke, disbelievingly, "it's not real," he said, picking up the disc and fondling it for a moment, and putting it down again with a begrudging, "okay, so it is real, but I still don't believe it.
           "Okay everybody," decided Spud, "get the gear out fellas, we are going to settle this right now, we all know it's bloody impossible to have a deep pitch in George's Old Cave, but how deep do you think this impossible pitch is then, James?"
          "Well, I don't know how deep really, but it is much deeper than the cliff we were doing yesterday ... I dropped a pebble down the shaft and it took about ... one second ... two seconds ... more than that long to hit the bottom."
        "That's well over thirty metres, or well over a hundred feet," said Spud, considerately putting the depth in the old method of measurement for Ernie's sake.
         "Could be," said Jules, "there's at least four hundred feet of  depth in that lower block of limestone."
          "And there's a faint rumbling sound like thunder," added James, "a long way off."
          "That could only be made by a big stream and there is no big stream in the lower limestone block or we would know where it came to the surface, so I'll believe that when I hear it for myself, as well," insisted Zeke, "there is no pitch and there is no stream, it's all an elaborate wind up, by persons unknown, probably some wassock from Cravenford Pothole Club put him up to it."
            "And this pitch is in the stream passage of George's Old Cave, is it, James?" asked Tich.
           "No, it's a long way off the stream passage, I had to climb up and then down again through these fabulous chambers full of beautiful stalagmites and stalactites before coming to this huge drop ... oh, and there were pure white stalactites, blue stalactites, and green ones and a bright red one just before the big drop, honest," he stared Zeke straight in the eye.
          "I know what it is," insisted Zeke, "those bloody Norwegian birds have had him on bloody drugs all night, because this is all bloody Disneyland, but we will see, Tich, bring the Landrover round, we are going to bloody well SRT down George's Old Cave," he cackled maniacally.

         "Look there," insisted Zeke, as they motored up the water-sodden  lane in Tich's long-wheel-base Landrover, which could easily accommodate  the whole crowd of Happy Ramblers, "the bloody ground all around us is oozing  with water coming up out of it ... it's bloody slate I tell you, the young bugger's on drugs, or he's completely shagged his brains out over the last couple of days, and has lost the plot completely."
           "You will see," said James, "if I can remember where it was," he added, to get Zeke even more wound up than ever, and then he thought better of it.
            'I better had be able to find it again,' he thought, 'or, like Black Rose Jed, I may never be seen again if Zeke has his way.'
          They changed into their caving gear at the entrance to George's Old Cave, and James forgot he was wearing the shiny purple knickers the twins had given him, and Zeke happened to see them, and exploded.
          "He's wearing bloody women's underwear, for Christ's sake, this is a wind-up, isn't it James, who put you up to this?"
           "I ran out of underwear and the twins gave me some of theirs, it's that simple." James offered the explanation to an audience of "Doubting Thomas's".
            Pauline came up to him, bent down to within a hair's breadth of his nether regions for a good look and felt the knickers with an approving murmur, at which point he felt himself go red all over with embarrassment, again, getting to be a habit, this.
          "They're 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers," she told her very attentive audience, "your twins have a very expensive taste in underwear, James, and I bags first dibs on them, so when you're done with them, they're mine, you promise me, okay?"
            "Okay Pauline, I promise," and that broke the ice a little.

           All kitted up and carrying a couple of 200 foot ropes, in spite of Zeke's reservations, they entered the cave and soon arrived at the waterfall, whereupon, James' fear of not being able to find the chimney was fully justified.
            The cave was not as he remembered it, so he was obliged to re-enact the banging of his head on the roof, 'ah', he realised, 'it was farther away from the waterfall than he thought,' and much to his relief he crawled under the ledge and disappeared from view up the chimney, followed swiftly by Zeke, who squeezed out into Snow White's Chamber with a gasp of admiration, "Bloody Nora," still tinged with a little disbelief at what he was seeing.
          "And that's where I found Black Rose Jed's disc," he said.

         The others rapidly followed ... Valerie finding it a fairly tight squeeze but she had got through smaller than this ... in time to hear Zeke's fervent apology to James, saying, "Sunshine, you have just rewritten the book on the geology round here, it's bloody fantastic, I apologise for being such a dogmatic know-it-all pratt."
          "Your apology accepted, Zeke," James gracefully acknowledged, as he began to realize just how out of the ordinary this new discovery had turned out to be.
           The Ramblers 'awd' and 'owd' their way through Snow White's Chambers, and then Rainbow Chambers and arrived at the top of the pitch in a state of wonderment at what more could there possibly be waiting in store for them around the next corner.

           "That carrot root stalactite looks more like a mandrake root to me," said Zeke, "look, it's got arms and legs, it's weird, and it's lovely, don't you just love it?" and Penny felt very neglected.
          And when Zeke first clapped eyes on the ruby red stalactite the very first thing he did was to put a tape around it and forbid anyone from going anywhere near it, or face being immediately thrown over the pitch.
           Zeke 'cooed' and 'awd' so much over the ruby red stalactite, that Penny nearly went into orbit with jealous rage.

          Chunky, Jules and Tich secured the SRT rope over the pitch in such a manner wherein the rope would not be frayed by rubbing over any sharp edges, and they had managed to achieve this by finding a natural eyelet belay high up above the chasm in the roof.
           Spud and the girls were searching every inch of the Chambers above the big pitch just to make sure there were no more hidden passages which had been missed and could well lead to even greater wonders, but there weren't any, and James? ... well, he just sat there and watched the professionals do their thing, soaking it all in like some gigantic super-sponge. 
            He noted that Tich had tied a knot in the end of the rope before throwing it over the pitch, and Chunky was being kitted out in a spider's web of lifelines, and such, seeing as he was to be the first one down the big pitch, and didn't know what to expect.

      James watched Chunky abseil into the pitch blackness and wished  him well as he slowly but smoothly sank into the abyss.
       The far side of the cavern was too far away to be seen in the darkness and soon the nearside wall receded into the darkness as well, and Chunky found himself hanging in empty space, the only reassuring thing being the distant rumble of a waterfall which was getting louder with every foot deeper that he descended into the vast unknown.
        Finally ... a flat floor of pebbles came into view and he found himself standing at the bottom of a gigantic cavern, a waterfall was plainly visible merrily thundering its way out of one wall and disappearing into the pebble floor, and another side of the cavern was a huge slope of gigantic boulders ... and as for the other two sides, well, they were hidden in the darkness, and remained a mystery, for now.
        Only about fifteen feet of unused rope lay coiled up on the chamber floor, making this pitch nearly twice the depth that they had first calculated. It was a near thing he had not run out of rope.
         This cavern had quite definitely been made for giants he decided, and the Happy Ramblers subsequently named it, the Giant's Hall.  

         The others abseiled down one by one to join him in the Giant's Hall, and James, being positioned safely in the middle, about the fifth to descend, found it a thrilling and adrenalin inducing experience.

     Abseiling in daylight and abseiling down into pitch black nothingness were two totally different kettles of fish, but he loved every nerve-tingling minute of it. It looked like our James was in danger of becoming an adrenalin junkie.

         They all gathered at a convenient cluster of boulders on which to sit until everyone had arrived. Spud gave James a quick lecture on how this was a new unexplored cave and there would be many pitfalls awaiting the unwary explorer.
          The most important of them being that there were loose rocks in new caves which had been hanging around for a thousand years just waiting for some unsuspecting person to give them a little nudge ... and  ... Hey Presto ... they would be Henry Burgers ... squashed flat in the blink of an eye.
           Frequently used caves were safe enough, anything that was going to fall on someone had been knocked down years ago, but new caves, well, every rock's a winner, babe, that's the truth.

            The waterfall just called out to be climbed as the Upper Stream Passage was on a par with some Master Caves the Ramblers had explored in the past. This wouldn't be easy to reach, however, as foot-holes were somewhat lacking and plans were implemented for someone to throw a rope over the huge rock at the top of the fall, but it kept washing back down again.
          James was glad that Janine, 'Bless her', had secured a waterproof caving suit for him as the spray from the waterfall was drenching everything and everybody in sight.       

      Standing near to the waterfall was a thrilling experience as the very ground shook with its awesome power, and James could feel this vibrating through his whole body. It made one a little more aware of the raw power of Mother Nature. The cool spray filled the air with refreshing negative ions like some gigantic commercial air freshener and he felt really invigorated and stimulated, and yet he was more than a little overwhelmed at the same time.

          Jules solved the problem of getting up the awkward waterfall with some magnificent traversing and managed to get most of the others up to the top of the fall by lowering a rope for them to climb, whereupon they then set off, following the tumbling stream up into the depths of the mountain. The passage was large and clean, with the usual formations typical of any stream passage in a Yorkshire cave.

             Meanwhile, back in the main chamber of Giants Hall, a decision was made that the remainder would explore the downstream passage.
           "Penny, Tich, James, you're with me," said Zeke, and headed off across the boulder strewn floor of Giant's Hall to where the stream was sinking down some holes between the boulders under the far wall of the chamber.
             Penny found the hole which dropped into the Lower Stream Passage, an easy squeeze and they were soon able to stand up. It proved to be easy walking down a sloping clean water-washed tunnel. Fossils and other curios, he had no idea what they were, dotted the dark walls with splashes of white. The stream was wide and fairly shallow and it was never any deeper than half way up their Wellington boots.

          The passage was devoid of stalactites or stalagmites and Zeke concluded that the stream must come through here at a much higher rate than it was doing today and quite frequently at times ... in other words he said: "The bloody place probably floods to the roof, regularly."

           James was amazed at how clean and smooth the rock was, so shiny and polished, like best Italian marble, with the constant action of the water, and, although it looked very dark and forbidding, it was not a bit like the dirty muddy place that most people imagined when they thought of a cave.
          'In fact,' thought James, 'they can be quite breath-takingly beautiful, full of stalactites and stalagmites in a multitude of different colours, but there was always the unforgettable fact that they could be bloody dangerous, with it.'
        The roof suddenly dipped to within a foot of the water level, which had become very quiet and still, and it was obviously no longer a stream.

          "Okay, who's going swimming then," asked Zeke, "this is a lake or a sump, got to be one or the other." and he leaned over as near to the water as he could, without getting wet, and listened intently for the sound of running water ... but there wasn't any.
           "I'll go," said Tich, "James can't swim."
           He lay as flat as he could above the water, one avoided getting wet if at all possible, so he could look ahead, and said: "It seems to get higher, it goes off to the left round the corner, but it gets bloody deep, looks like a huge flooded chamber, a big lake."

             "There's no need for everybody to get wet, so you stay here, while I have a look see," and with that he lowered himself into the clear water and then he seemed to stumble as he suddenly disappeared out of sight under the water to re-emerge coughing and spluttering, with complaints of, "Cold, cold, cold."
            "By the way, James," Zeke grinned, "that was a perfect example of why one should never use both feet to test the depth of water," and although he was grinning he was also keeping a very watchful eye on Tich's progress, ready to be in there and assist him at the drop of a hat.

           "It's bloody huge, but there's no way on, that I can see," Tich's voice drifted over the placid crystal clear water, "there's a short passage, on the right, with the most fabulous formations overhanging the lake, and Chunky is definitely going to want to photograph them, but only a cave-diver is going any further down here, does anyone know what Tony's up to these days?"

         Tony being one of the few local caver divers ... the sport of cave diving, despite being an extremely efficient way of finding new cave passages, didn't hold much appeal to most cavers ... for the simple reason that it was a most unforgiving mistress and one mistake and you were dead, drowned, like a rat in a flooded drain.

        The big problem being that in an underwater passage there is just no where to go if anything does go wrong, one can not come up to the surface to breathe, there isn't any surface.
         Cave divers were a special breed of adventurers.

      The Ramblers headed back up to Giant's Hall and Penny got out her famous chewy health bars, and shared them around, and they sat comparing notes, waiting for the others to come back from above the waterfall ... and James took it in his head to have another search around the perimeter of the Hall, as he had the idea there was another way out of here.

       They didn't have to wait long before the echo of voices mingling with that of the ever-constant waterfall and the flash of moving lights appeared above the waterfall. Getting down again with the aid of a rope was easy and they all gathered round to swop notes on their discoveries.
        Zeke relayed the information about the lake and Spud told of how they had followed the stream up fabulous cascades to a point where it had suddenly turned into a low wide bedding plane, too low for further progress.

     The Upper Stream Passage had been a terrific exercise in foot-and-back traversing over deep pools, and they all agreed it had been well worth doing, an exciting trip.

         Chunky, meanwhile, had climbed the big slope on one side of the Hall and was looking at a promisingly large passage receding into the distance when he heard excited shouting, and hurried back down to see what all the fuss was about.
          James was jumping up and down yelling: "I've found it, I've found it, I've found Ernie's Pillar, the one he has the drawing of pinned up in the café, come on, look at this," he beckoned them to follow, "it's down here," and he vanished down a hole in the floor into a large dry passage.
          Everybody followed and found him stood motionless looking at this solitary white pillar, stretching from floor to ceiling, smack bang in the middle of a large Gour pool, all alone in the centre of a wide chamber, like a silent sentinel.

      "It's beautiful," whispered Pauline.
      "I'm having a photo of that right now," said Chunky, "with my digital camera so I can show Ernie when we get back, he'll be thrilled to bits, get in the photo, James, you found it."
       "No Chunky," James declined, "this pillar belongs to our Black Rose Jed, he found it, and to Ernie for believing in it, so please take your photo just as it is," and a murmur of approval rippled round the group.
        "And we'll call it Ernie's Pillar," said Pauline, and they all chorused their agreement, "Ernie's Pillar."
       "There's three passages leading off," Zeke informed them, "which way, James, you chose one, your luck is definitely in today, keep up the good work."
        "Ever onward then," declared James so they headed straight ahead down a fairly nondescript passage to a shattered hole in the floor, whereupon Zeke started jumping up and down in an alarmingly excitable fashion, as though he had ants in his pants.
         "It's a mine shaft," he said.
         "Zeke has this thing about mine shafts," sighed Penny, "he eats sleeps and breathes bloody mine-shafts, there are times I wish I was a bloody mine-shaft."
         "It's a mine shaft," Zeke repeated, "don't you understand, it's not natural, it's man-made, somebody was here a long, long time ago, and we may be able to follow this mine out to the surface."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Down in the Mine.

       "That shaft is man-made," insisted Zeke, "I know a mine shaft when I see one, I'm a geologist for goodness sake."
           "But if it is man-made then they must have dug it from this level or they came up from down below," retorted Spud, "they certainly couldn't have come in down the shaft from George's Old Cave, like what we have just done."

           "Okay then, who's going down there to find out, it looks a bit dodgy to me, all that loose stuff hanging around, waiting to fall off on the first silly bugger to try it."
            "Right ... Spud, you and Zeke can go down first, and Penny can follow, and if it's okay we all follow her," said Chunky, taking the initiative, and pushing the big boys up front.
            "Tich, get a rope for them, it doesn't seem unduly deep, just bloody crappy loose rock, and hang over the edge and kick as much of it down as you can."
               "It's not that bad, actually," reported Tich, as he dangled over the edge, swinging from side to side like some deranged monkey on a day trip from the forest, "it looks worse than it is, I can hardly knock anything off, no matter how hard I hit it," confirming the fact by hurtling himself into space and returning with enough clout to win prizes at a fair-ground strength stall.
         "See, solid as a rock ... come on ladies," he was looking at Spud and Zeke, "time to show us what you're made of."
               Spud tossed a rope down the shaft and proceeded to climb down a relatively easy sloping climb until he was standing in a large horizontal 'mine' tunnel.
                "Zeke, you were right, it is a mine," Spud shouted up the shaft, "safe as houses though." and he lowered his head to check the rope when he felt a sharp crack, and a small piece of rock pinged off his helmet and fell at his feet.
               'Or maybe no,' he thought, but he didn't say anything.

               He looked around and realised he was standing next to some wooden railway sleepers, thoroughly rotten, held in place by a thin skin of calcite which had formed over the years.
              'Where there are sleepers there are railway lines,' he reckoned, taking a step forward and promptly falling over them.

           The iron railway tracks ran off out of sight into the distance around a curve in tunnel.
             'Nobody been down here for a while,' he assessed, 'those straw stalactites would have been broken off long ago it there had been, it stands to reason.'
              Zeke joined him and was beside himself with excitement, because if there was anything Zeke liked better than caves it was old mine-workings, come to think of it,

if there was anything Zeke liked better than women it was old mine-workings.
             Penny slid down into view and Spud helped her over the railway sleepers.  Zeke was too engrossed doing his own thing.
          Spud and Penny shouted for the others to follow on down the shaft and then they headed off down the passage while Zeke hung behind busying himself with examining the railway track and sleepers. He was lost in a world of his own thoughts.
          A small alcove on the right brought Spud to an abrupt halt.
       "Zeke, get yourself over here quick," he yelled excitedly.
       "I'm busy with these railway tracks, can't it wait?"
       "You'll want to see this, it's what you're looking for."

        Zeke arrived and went ecstatic with joy as he cast his eyes over an exposed mineral vein, resplendent in greens and blues.
         "Got to be copper," he enthused, "oh wow, look at it all, look at this, wow, look at that, wonderful, just wonderful," and he sank to his knees caressing arms full of colourful rocks.
          'If only you could get that passionate with me,' thought a very disgruntled Penny, 'we wouldn't be having any problems.' and with this thought she cast her hungry eyes over at James who had just arrived on the scene with Chunky, Tich, Rita, Jules and Valerie in close pursuit.
          "Can you lot spread out," ordered Zeke, "and search for mineral specimens, anything that looks interesting, and bring it over here for me to look at, and please be careful, there's some very nice stuff down here, and I don't want it spoiled."

             He sat down to sketch what they had discovered so far and then he set up shop on a large stone slab and opened his ammo box.  Short for ex-Army heavy duty metal ammunition box which was strong enough to survive being dropped down a big pitch, although wether or not its contents would survive was a another kettle of fish. He took out a small black cloth which he spread carefully over the slab and this was closely followed by all sorts of weird and wonderful scientific paraphernalia which he produced with a flourish like some third-rate magician would produce a rabbit out of a hat.
            One thing about the Ramblers, they were all accomplished experts in their own field and if 'geologist' Zeke wanted specimens then this was what he was going to get ... and they all set to work with gusto busily searching though the broken rock chippings in every nook and cranny.
            "What's this then, Zeke," asked Penny.
            Zeke brushed some loose dirt of the offered piece of rock and put the specimen on his black cloth, where, surprisingly this served to highlight the colours as they positively gleamed in the bright beam of their LED lamps.

          "That, my love," he extolled, "is a fabulous specimen of copper ore called Malachite, the bright green monoclinic form of carbonate of copper, Cu2(CO3)(OH)2."
             "Is it the sort of thing you're looking for," she asked as the meaningless technical jargon went straight over her head.
            "Oh, yes," said Zeke, giving the bit of rock the sort of adulation that would charm the knickers off a Mother Superior.
             'Well, next time we get down to it, you pillock,' thought Penny, 'I'm going to put a lump of this on each of my tits because I'm sure that's the only way I'm ever going to get you turned on.'  She sighed resignedly and resumed her search for specimens.

            "How about these, Zeke," asked Tich, returning with a lump of rock in both hands, eager to learn if he had found a fortune in mineral wealth.

       "Careful," said Zeke, "don't get my cloth dirty," and carried on, "well, that's some massive Calcite, CaCO3, pure Calcium Carbonate, showing some positive indications of double crystal formation."

           "And this is .... the same stuff, Calcite, maybe Aragonite, same formula, CaCO3, but in tiny crystal form and it probably formed on the edge of a Gour pool that tended to dry out now and then and deposit it like this, nice though isn't it, put it in one of those plastic bags to keep it clean," he pointed to his ammo box, "in there."
               A queue was beginning to form up by now.

             "Oh, now that's very nice, some of the best Fluorite crystals I've seen in a long while," Zeke informed a delighted Chunky,  "note how the crystals form into cubes, an isometric, transparent though brittle Fluoride of Calcium, CaF2, Calcium fluoride, put it in a bag please." 

              "Hell, and I only thought they were just pretty," said Chunky, in a mild attempt to take the piss out of his learned friend, "just how do you remember all this stuff, Zeke baby?"
               "It's easy once you start," replied Zeke, treating it as a serious question, "this is the same Fluor-Spar that you find down the Blue John Mines in Derbyshire, except that theirs is a blue-yellow colour and this is a nice amethyst colour, but this also fluoresces under ultra violet light, beautiful it is, they have some in the Mineral Museum at Cliffe Castle in Keighley, you really should go and see them shine, it's free as well."
          "I've got one of them purple things, but mine has some metal stuck to it, look,"  Valerie said, pushing her way to the front.

            "Oh, nice one, Val, yes it's the same kind of Fluorite but yours has got a superb Galena crystal with it. This Galena is Lead sulphide, PbS, and this is what the Romans were searching for up on Lead Mines Moss two thousand years ago, I wonder if they knew about this place? Put it in a bag please, and if anyone finds a lead ingot with Roman Numerals stamped on it they are in for a week of sexual ecstasy with yours truly as a reward, except the lads that is, they only get a pint."
              "Make that about 2 minutes," said Penny, "and if you've any sense girls you'll settle for the pint."
             They all collapsed in laughter at this, except Zeke who thought to himself, 'Bloody woman, who's bitten her bum?'

              James handed his find over and Zeke gave it a one-word identification, "Crap," and slung it over his shoulder into the all encompassing darkness.
             'Bloody charming,' James thought and was sulking off to find something else when his spirits were suddenly lifted by another rendition of, "Crap," as Zeke tossed one of Spud's offering onto the scrap heap as well.
           James thought: 'That's okay then, it's nothing personal.'
            Rita appeared from down the tunnel really excited, "I've found some Amethyst," she said proudly, giving it to Zeke.

             "Sorry," he apologised, "Amethyst is a quartz and I don't think you can get that round here, I could be wrong but I think this is a dark purple Fluorite, yes it is Fluorite, look, tiny, tiny cubic crystals," he moved aside so she could have a closer look.
             "It's very nice though," he consoled, "stick it in a bag."

            "These are weird Zeke," Jules handed over his find.

        "They certainly are," confirmed Zeke, "I think you've got me here, Jules, they looks like some Dolomite crystals, Calcium Magnesium Carbonate, CaMg(CO3)2, but I doubt it, put them in a bag and I'll get the lads down at the University to give them the once over."

           Spud and James turned up again for another try.

           "Now that's interesting, Spud," said Zeke, "Cockscomb Barytes, Barium sulphate, BaSO4, so-called because they look like a cockerel's comb, not that I've ever seen a cockerel close up, but that's what they say, put it in a bag."

               "And what have you got there, James?" 

           "Oh my, that's very nice, it's Azurite the blue monoclinic form of carbonate of copper, Cu3(CO3)2(OH)2, like malachite but blue, yes indeed, a very nice specimen, well done, put it in a bag please."
            James returned to the search and bumped into Tich who was on his way back after finding more goodies.
            "There's a right Aladdin's Cave down there," he said, "but be careful it's all mine workings and the roof isn't too happy, we wouldn't want you getting Henry'd now, would we?"
             "Henry'd?" James asked, "who is this Henry?"
             "Henry got dropped on with a very large slab some years back, he never felt a thing, but when we moved the slab we had to shovel him up into several bin bags."
             "I'll be careful."
           "Good, I thought you might, wouldn't want to lose our latest recruit." and he vanished into the darkness thinking to himself: 'Henry only got a bad bruise and the shock of his life but I just can't resist winding that young James up, he's so bloody trusting and gullible, but it can't do him any harm to be extra careful down here, Henry was very lucky he wasn't squashed.'

           "What you got, Tich, looks very interesting?"

             "Very nice, they look like quartz crystals, all clear and transparent, but they are Calcite crystals, and absolute belters, put them a bag please, oh, you have another!"

             "Snap, but even better than the first lot, nice big ones."

             "I've got a big one of those, but it's brown," Pauline chipped in with her two pennyworth.

              "There's no answer to that," quipped Zeke, " but yours is a Dogtooth Spar, because it looks like a dogtooth, and this is calcite as well. It is also a superb specimen, well done, put it a bag please. Anymore for the Skylark, no, all done, where's James gone?"

             James appeared in an excited rush and put his latest offering on Zeke's black cloth.
              "I know it's only small but isn't it gorgeous?" he gasped breathlessly, from hurrying all the way back.

             "There's no answer to that, either," quipped Zeke,  but this is superb, James, it's Fluorite, same as the purple ones, but this is flawlessly clear, the only other yellow Fluorite I know of as good as this came out of a mine up on the Army Firing Range, up near Alston. It got too dangerous up there, though, what with the Army firing live shells and all."
          "Heh campers, have you seen the time?" Spud interrupted, "It's time we all hot-footed it out of here before Ernie declares us missing and calls out the CRO, and the last thing we want is a hundred heavy-footed potholers trampling all over our, that is, James' new find, so come on, let's be having you, last one out buys the beer."
           "Okay," said Zeke, "but I need to make sure these specimens are packed safely for our science lab at the Uni."
            "And I want to get some more  pictures of  those formations in Rainbow Chamber," said Chunky, "It won't take me long, and I especially want another one of the ruby red stalactite in case some idiot damages it."
             "Okay Zeke, we'll meet you in Giant's Hall, when you're done," said Spud, "and meanwhile we'll start getting the girls and Chunky here up the big pitch, and our James, some cave you found, eh, James?"
              James smiled at him, because actually, not being used to all this physical exertion underground, he was beginning to feel a wee bit knackered, and was really looking forward to a good feed back at Ernie's.  

             Ernie, however,  was a bit sceptical about the day's events, because so many others had told him so many stories that had turned out to be so much hot air in the end, that he wasn't easily convinced about anything any more.
            "Okay, Ernie," said Chunky, "I took this photo just for you, but I need your drawing of Black Rose Jed's Pillar to compare it with ... now is that the pillar, or is that The Pillar?"
         "We are calling it Ernie's Pillar," said Pauline.

       Ernie did his best to hide the tear which rolled down his cheek with a quick wipe of his tea towel, "It's bloody marvellous, I knew I was right all along, can I have a copy of this, Chunky?"
          "Of course you can," he reassured him, "but Ernie, you must keep this quiet until we have fully explored the caverns, or we will be overrun by pirate cavers trying to claim the discovery."
           "Mum's the word," said Ernie.
          "That reminds me," said James, "I must phone my mum and let her know how I'm getting on."
           "You can use my phone," Ernie volunteered, "I think you deserve it, don't you agree fellahs?"
           "Hear, Hear." cheered the Happy Ramblers and promptly broke into an appropriate song.

"Why was he born so beautiful,
Why was he born at all,
He's no bloody use to anyone,
He's no bloody use at all."

           James laughed and knew that he had been accepted as one of them, because they only ever took the piss out one of their own, and he felt so honoured to be a Happy Rambler.

            "Onward to the Drunken Duck," said Spud.

Author's Addendum
It should be made clear that at no time were any cave formations
or mineral specimens, or any subterranean life forms removed or
interfered with in any way whatever during the explorations or the
photography required for the writing and completion of this e-book.

CHAPTER NINE

Colleen.

       When James finally arrived up at the pub, after being grilled by Ernie about every single detail of the Secret Caverns, James was surprised to find the place was virtually empty, and Colleen was alone, serving behind the bar. On a weekend the place was bouncing and one couldn't swing a cat, but mid-week it was a couple of locals, the odd holiday-maker and that was that.
       She smiled to see him, a warm smile, a welcoming smile, a very nice-to-see-you kind of smile, an absolutely provocative kind of smile, a come hither kind of smile, or was he reading more into her friendly greeting than was actually there in those beautiful big green eyes?
        "Hello Colleen," he smiled back, "a pint of your best bitter please, and where is old misery guts this evening, not that I want to talk about him, when I'd rather talk about you?"
           "He went back to the Emerald Isle," she said, "there was something important he had to do, but he never tells me anything, any more, but he won't be back until tomorrow evening, at the earliest, I'm completely on my own until then."
           "Well, it's not doing you any harm, is it?" he said, boldly, "this is the first time I've seen you so happy since I came in here, a big smile on your face, and such a beautiful smile, it fair takes my breath away," he winked so she didn't know if he was serious or not, but she liked it anyway, and blushed.
         "Be off with you," she said jokingly, "You have more blarney than that wastrel of a husband that I married ... you should save it for that bevy of foreign beauties who dragged you off out of here last night to sleep in their bed together ... I heard all about it ... you are the talk of the village ... you horny young scallywag."
       "The twins have gone off to the Lake District, and left me all alone and without a bed as well, if it comes to that, so we've both been abandoned, and left in the same old boat, except you've still got a bed to sleep in, of course," he hinted.
         She brushed off the hint, as easy as water off a duck's back, for, being chatted up by amorous males every evening was all part of her job, and she said, "It won't take two minutes for you to get a bed for the night, Romeo, all you have to do is go into the back room and those girls from the Happy Ramblers will drag you off in a trice, I've seen the way they look at you, undressing you with their eyes, they just can't wait to get into your knickers."
        "Give over, woman," squirmed James, thinking she must know he actually was wearing knickers, "you're making it all up, look you've got me blushing now," and he went bright red.
          "Oh I'm sorry, James," she said, coming round from behind the bar and reaching out to touch his cheek, "I thought you knew that they," she paused, "that we, all fancy you, something wicked."
           James was a little taken aback, not quite knowing what was going on here, bearing in mind that whatever these women thought of him, he had been a virgin only three days ago, and he was not the worldly-wise womaniser that they all reckoned him to be ... he was still as naive and as gullible as ever he was, and it was the women who were making all the running, and he was being dragged along behind, albeit as a completely willing accomplice.

           He looked into Colleen's beautiful green eyes and could see a hurt that no smile could erase and he knew that she was a deeply troubled woman, and his heart went out to her, for he had known such hurt when his father had died suddenly two years ago, and it came boiling to the surface and they were united in their anguish, and he put his arms round her and held her close. 
         Colleen, broke away, "Not here, James, there are too many watching eyes and wagging tongues in a little village like this and they would revel in telling Paddy that his wife was having it away with a young potholer, just for the hell of it."
        "Anyway, James," Colleen said, regaining her composure, "I'll show you what I mean. You go in that back room right now and if you haven't been offered a bed for the night within two minutes by one of those love-sick girls in there, then you can come right back here and you can sleep in my bed for the night, that's if you'd ever want to, of course, now get in there and you'll find out I'm right," and she pushed him ever so gently towards the back room.
           James turned round, looked at Colleen for a moment, spun on his heels and went into the back room, to be greeted with a chorus of ...

"For, he's a jolly good fellow, He's a jolly good fellow,
He's a jolly good fellow, And so say all of us,
And so say all of us, And so say all of us,
For he's a jolly good fellow, He's a jolly good fellow,
He's a jolly good fellow, And so say all of us, ... Yip."

          Spud moved over for him to sit down but Rita the man-eater beat him to the punch by saying, "Heh, James, you can come over here and sit with us girls for tonight, you're our hero, lover boy, isn't he girls?"
           The four girls smiled invitingly and nodded in unison, which made James think, 'Good God, Colleen is right, they're all trying to get into my knickers, and much as I'm flattered, and I don't really know why I should feel this way, but I need to be with Colleen tonight,' and he felt her soul was reaching out for him, and his was reaching out for her.
          "Just hang on a minute girls, I've got to go drain the radiator, if you know what I mean?" and he smiled coyly, backing away, and bolted back through the door before they could do anything but laugh at his embarrassment.

          "Well, Colleen," he said moving over to the bar, "I gave them two minutes and there were no offers," he lied, "so I guess I'll have to take you up on the offer of your bed for the night, if that offer still stands, that is?" and he smiled as he spoke, reaching out to put his hand on hers, ever so gently, and she melted at his touch, and they both felt wonderful.
            "Okay, James," she murmured, a little perplexed at what to say, not ever having done this sort of thing before, and he was so young, "but it's only for tonight and no strings attached, is that agreed, you lovely man?"
             "Agreed," he said, and he smiled at her with those beautiful hazel eyes that could look deep into your very soul, and they reassured her that she was doing the right thing, and it made her forget that she was old enough to be his mother.
            "Now get back in there with your friends and then stay behind when they leave, alright?" she ordered, bruskly.

            A voice from behind interrupted them with, "Heh, James I thought you were going for a wee-wee and I find you chatting up the bar-maid?" It was Spud, who else?
        "Just arranging to get some beer in, Spud, so what are you drinking now that you're here, the usual?"
          "I've brought a big list in with me," Spud said.
          "In that case the offers off, I'm only a poor apprentice draughtsman and the pay's lousy," pleaded James, "so I'm off to sit with the girls." and he gave Colleen a confirming nod and went into the back room.
         "Okay girls, don't fight," he laughed, "who wants to sit next to a hero?" and with this he hurled himself into the tangle of female bodies, who each made a grab for him, and a couple of them weren't particular which part they were grabbing.
         "Naughty Rita, naughty Valerie," he scolded, and the girls squealed in delight as they all joined in and went for a piece of the action, know what I mean, the shameless hussies.
         James just lay back and enjoyed all the attention, adding the odd provocative jibe like, "Oops, careful ladies, you don't know where I've been," and " Pauline, do you know where you've got your hand?" which encouraged them to be even more outrageous.
          Spud came through the door and exploded, "Bloody Nora, I leave the room for two minutes and they're trying to rip his bloody clothes off  ... I don't know what you've got James but you'd make a bloody fortune if you bottled it?"
         They all laughed until it hurt and there was no doubt in anybody's mind why they were called the Happy Ramblers.

          "Okay girls," ordered Spud, "put James down for a minute, and let's get down to the serious business of what we are going to do tomorrow, there's a lot of ground to cover."
          "Zeke has knocked up this rough sketch plan of what we know already about the Secret Caverns so suggestions please about what to do next ... for instance it would be great if we could find a bottom entrance, agreed?"
         There was a mumble of agreement as they all poised over the plan, looking for clues.
         "Now, let's see," Zeke took the chair and pointed at the sketch with his finger, "we went into George's Old Cave, up to the waterfall, up the rift into Snow White Chambers, as James so aptly called them, along into Rainbow Chambers, and then down the big pitch into Giant's Hall. Then we climbed the waterfall into the stream passage but it got too low, dead end, so we went downstream into the lake, dead end, so we carried straight on and found that Ernie's Pillar was for real. Agreed so far?"

        The Ramblers nodded their agreement.
       "There were three different  ways on so we went straight ahead and found my mine shaft which we explored to chokes at both ends, dead ends, and because it was getting late we called it a day and headed back to the café."
        "So," concluded Spud, "if we're looking for a way out of the bottom it's going to have to be one of those passages out of Pillar Hall that we didn't get a chance to look at last time, right?"
        The Ramblers nodded their agreement, and Chunky added, "remember, I also found  a large passage heading out of the top of Giant's Hall but I didn't get a chance to have a proper look when I heard you lot going ballistic after James found Ernie's Pillar."
        "Okay," said Spud, "tomorrow we concentrate on those three, but meanwhile he said: 'Back at the Drunken Duck, the girls had gotten bored with young James and had turned their attention to ripping the clothes of that other gift to womankind, better known as Spud.'"
         The girls all roared with laughter and much to his delight they gave him some of the same treatment that they had been giving to James earlier. He squealed for mercy, but didn't really mean it, he was loving it.
         Another rip-roaring evening of wine, women and song ended as Colleen shouted, "Time gentleman please, let's be having you, time to go home, I'm shutting the pub in two minutes flat."
         "Are you still looking for a bed tonight, James," Pauline asked, getting in ahead of the hovering competition.
          "Thanks Pauline," he apologised, "but I've got fixed up already, but I would appreciate a rain check for tomorrow night," he looked at her in that innocent butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth boyish way that made women go weak at the knees.
          "Oh, alright," she sighed, "is that a promise, because I haven't gotten those 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers yet that you promised me, either."
           "Promise," said James, "cross my heart," he made a little cross over his heart, "tomorrow night, I promise."
             "Well, here's something on account," she said and kissed him full on the mouth in a manner that would have scorched his socks off, if he hadn't got one eye on Colleen over her shoulder, who was looking at him with an all-knowing smile on her face.
           The Ramblers departed with the usual explosion of "Bloody Nora, I don't believe it," from Spud, when he realised that James wasn't departing with them, and as for Penny, she was thinking to herself, 'It's just not fair, damn it, it's just not bloody fair.'     

         "So that's your secret is it?, 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers," chortled Colleen, when they had the place to themselves.
          "It's a long story, I ran out of underwear and the twins gave me some of their promotional knickers," laughed James.
          "They have very good taste, expensive knickers and you," said Colleen, as James pulled her gently to him and kissed her in an even more gentle fashion, until the hairs stood up on the back of his neck and they both tingled all over.
          "Where did you learn to kiss like that?" asked Colleen, not really wanting an answer as she returned the kiss in the same spine-tingling manner.
          'I've had plenty of practice at kissing,' thought James, 'it was just getting beyond kissing which gave me a problem,' and he smiled as he realised that he had used the past tense ... because it seemed it was no longer a problem.

         Colleen took him by the hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom, where she said, "turn around, James, I'm shy," as she dimmed the beside light to a mere glimmer, and slipped into a full length nightie.
          He kissed her again, so tenderly, as they stood at the side of the bed, and he slipped her nightie off of her bare shoulders.
          "No!" she said, making a vain attempt to catch it as it fell to the floor.
          "What the hell are those?" James demanded, completely ruining the moment, as he saw her upper body was covered with dark marks, "they're bruises aren't they ... has that bastard Paddy been beating you up?"
         "We had a fight," wailed Colleen, breaking down into tears, "he didn't mean to do it, he'd had too much to drink and he's got a lot on his mind at the moment, but he won't tell me what it is, and I must have pushed him a bit too far."
         "I'll be up with the lads tomorrow when he gets back and we'll kick seven shades of crap out of him." James promised.
          "No, James, it's my fault, when I was young I fell head over heels for this sweet-talking rogue in the old country who promised me the earth, and now I'm stuck with him, because I still love him, but that's my problem, not yours ... if you really want to help me ... then take me to bed and love me in the tender way that I have needed to be loved for so long, and tell me you love me, and tell me how much you care and kiss it all better, and kiss me until it doesn't hurt anymore, please."
          James' anger subsided and as he did as he was asked, and he kissed her troubles away, and then he knew why he was really there, and he began to understand the joy of really caring about the feelings and needs of another human being and his young heart swelled with joy as they melted into one another's embrace, body and soul uniting as one. 
          It was a moment he would never forget.

           James woke up with a start ... not having remembered falling asleep ... and then he realised Colleen was standing over him with a mug of hot tea, and a beaming smile.
          "Up you get, you wonderful man," she positively glowed, giving him a motherly peck of a kiss on his forehead, and skilfully evading his attempts to grab her and pull her down to him, "the cleaners will be here shortly, so you had best be down in the dining room having your breakfast when they do, and that will stop their wagging tongues, or at least slow them down a bit."
           James was really delighted at seeing Colleen so happy.
         "Oh, by the way," she said, still smiling, "I have put some of Paddy' underpants out for you to wear sweetie, because I've acquired those gorgeous passion-flower coloured 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers you were wearing, do you know how much those things cost?" she purred, contentedly.
          James smiled at her, "You're more than welcome," he said, but he thought, 'Oh shit, what's Pauline going to say now, I promised them to her ... I had better keep my other promise of staying with her tonight, or I'm in real deep doo-doo, and no mistake.'
           James got dressed and was down in the dining room finishing his breakfast when the cleaners arrived, giving him the old once-over, twice.
          "Your bill's ready, Sir," called out Colleen from behind the bar,  "One night's Bed and Breakfast," and James played along with her strategy and, picking up his rucksack, he walked across to join her at the bar.
           Colleen opened the till, took out a fiver, and put it in his hand, "Your change Sir," she said, ringing the till shut, loudly, so that the cleaners could hear it, and they would be left in no doubt whatever he was really a paying customer.
             "You don't have to do that," James hissed, looking hurt.
           "Oh yes I do, you lovely man," she sighed, "that's as much for me as it is for you ... so have a drink on me ... and thank you for a wonderful night ... and now get out of here before I am tempted to do something that I know we will both regret," and with this she propelled him unceremoniously out of the door at a rapid rate of knots and shut it quickly behind him.
           She leaned with her back on the door thinking, 'You will never know, young James, just how close I came to picking you up and running off with you, you wonderful man,' and then she made the cleaners jump with an abrasive, "Have you done the bar top yet, you know how Paddy goes on if it's not spotless?" and she waltzed off into the kitchen to dream of what might have been.

          James walked wearily along the street with his emotions trampolining up and down in front of him.
          "How come every time I feel on top of the world it's followed by my feeling like utter shit?" he wondered, "if this is what love is all about it's bloody hard work."
          He walked into the café to a chorus of, "And who's knickers are we wearing this morning, James, as if we didn't know?" and they all fell about laughing.
         "Well I'm not, actually," he said, "Colleen took pity on me and gave me some of Paddy' underpants, on account."
        "On account?" asked Pauline, falling for the oldest gag in the history of comedy.
         "On account of he didn't have any of his own, boom, boom," said Jules, and they all groaned at the pun.
          "Are we all ready to go then, or are you in need of some breakfast, James? Spud enquired.
        "No thanks, Spud, Colleen made me a breakfast."
        "Bloody Nora," Spud exclaimed, "okay then, let's get back to work and find ourselves a nice convenient Valley Entrance."
         "Ernie, if we're not back by five o'clock......."
        "I'll come and get you myself," laughed Ernie, but he knew exactly what he had to do ... it wouldn't be the first time some of his friends had not returned ... and it wouldn't be the last.

          Tich was waiting with the Landrover all ready to go and they all piled in and headed back up to George's Old Cave.
           It took no time at all for them to be stood once more in the colossal vastness of Giant's Hall. Each of them abseiling down the rope one at a time into the darkness and landing at the bottom of the boulder slope, their bright fluorescent suits shining like beacons in the gloom.

           Chunky suggested that Jules, Tich and himself should climb the slope and explore the large passage he had seen yesterday, while the rest of them searched every crevice around the walls of the chamber, for some hidden exit.
           Reaching the top of the slope Chunky looked back down and saw the Ramblers helmet lights twinkling away far below like strings of tiny Christmas lights in the pitch black darkness.
           Faint echoes of excited voices drifted through the stillness while in the background he could hear the constant splashing of the waterfall tumbling out from the Upper Stream Passage.

           An easy walk from the top of the slope lead to a large cavern, which Chunky called the High Hall, and although it was impressive in size it was a bit lacking in formations. There seemed to be no way on, even a calcite encrusted inlet high on the wall closed down after a few feet but Chunky took a good photo of Jules who was having a problem on the climb, getting well and truly stuck on a ledge, being unable to go up or get back down.

          "Make yourself useful," Chunky told him, "sit down on the ledge while I take a photo to remember you by," and they laughed, because they knew he would get himself down again, eventually.
           Jules had the last laugh by finding a superb stalagmite pillar on the wall of the chamber, but little else turned up so they went to look for the main party who had gone on to Pillar Hall.

        Rita and Penny were sitting on a dry ledge merrily eating chewy health bars, chatting away about everything and nothing, as women do, and waiting for the others to catch up with them.
          "We have been to the far end of this passage past Zeke's mine shaft and it dead-ends I'm afraid," Penny said, "and Zeke, Spud and Valerie went up here, and from the echoes you can hear it sounds pretty big, and James and Pauline went off down that other smaller passage but we haven't heard a sound out of them ... so take your pick, who do we follow?"
           "The big passage of course," chorused the lads, and they set off following the echoes to one of the most spectacular sites they would ever encounter underground. The large passage suddenly opened up into a much larger white calcite encrusted wonderland.
            Spud stood at the top of a pure white natural staircase that looked for all the world like it was cut out of marble or some gigantic snow drift, and he beckoned them to follow him.

       "Come and see this over here," he enthralled, "it's fantastic."
        They arrived to find Zeke stood in the midst of some gigantic Gour pools, of the purest white, and dwarfed by an enormous white calcite cascade that went on and on and on.

        "Where's Valerie?" enquired Rita.
        "She's round the back of here, somewhere," reported Zeke, "we've had a good look around but there's no way out, that we can find, except the way we came in, but is this fantastic or what?" he chuckled out loud as he made his way over to them, taking frequent detours, and being ultra careful not to stand on any of the pristine white formations.

          They all agreed this cavern should be called the Ice Hall.
         "Come on then you lot," said Spud, "we better go and find James and Pauline, they've been gone a long time, and knowing that lad he's either being ravished by our Pauline, or he's found the way out of here, you can bet your last quid on it."

         James and Pauline had set off down this walking-height passage which went on, and on, and on, in a dead straight line, heading in exactly the direction they had been hoping it would.
           This Long Walk opened up into small chambers now and then, but it continued on its relentless journey, quite boring really, and totally devoid of stalactites, it's only saving grace was the tantalising thought of, 'Where does it go?'
          Then, suddenly, they entered a large chamber full of stalactites, but a lot of them were broken off and littered the floor of the cavern in vast piles, almost as though some demented vandal had been on the loose. 

    The roof was still festooned with them however and they must have been a wonderful sight before they were damaged. The stalagmites on the floor appeared to have escaped relatively unscathed.

         The Brokenstal Chamber seemed an appropriate name.
        "Looks like we are under the quarry, James," Pauline correctly assumed, "and the blasting has shaken a lot of these stalactites off the roof of the chamber, what a shame."

         The calcite formations in these Secret Caverns were out of this world and seemed to continue in ever increasing abundance, and delighted at this spectacular find, James and Pauline made their way across to the far side of Brokenstal chamber, looking for an outlet, Pauline to the right and James to the left, unavoidably crunching broken stalactites with every step, when a sudden movement caught James by surprise.
         It was a large hen, just like he had seen at the Water Hole.

         It rose off a partly-made nest, distressed at the lights, no eggs, thank goodness, and shot off down a small side passage with a scary squawking noise and a frenzied flapping of its wings.
        "K'nell, Pauline," he yelled, "I've just scared a bloody chicken off down this low passageway, and it's man-made, and I can see building bricks, and if that chicken came in through here, then we can't be that far off the surface, and we may be able to get out the same way ... come and help, sweetheart."

        He crawled into the low tunnel and gave Pauline a running commentary of his progress.
          "It's not too bad, I can see a hole over the bricks where the chicken must have gone. Yikes, a bloody spider just fell on my hand," he shuddered, "so that means we are very near the surface, and these bricks are really loose, they are just piled one on top of the other, and they come away quite easily ... here," he motioned, "get rid of these." and he slid the bricks back towards Pauline, one at a time.
           "Don't go moving anything that may be holding up the roof," she said worriedly, "I'm on a promise, remember?" she laughed, "don't want you getting Henry'd and flattening anything, do we?"
          But James was too preoccupied with his task to hear her, "I can smell rotting vegetation now," his voice getting distant, "and I can see daylight," he shoved the remaining bricks in front of him, and a bit of a squeeze, and Bob's your uncle, he emerged out in the valley bottom, through a drain, under the Waterfalls Walk pathway, and the gaze on curious walkers, who took one look and kept on walking.
           The bright sunlight hurt his eyes, but he soon adjusted, and he looked around to get his bearings.
          "Come on, sweet-stuff," he yelled back down the drain, while clearing away some loose bricks to make it bigger, "we have come out under the Steam House Mansions."
         Pauline popped out of the drain to join him in the sunshine, and he gave her a big hug and a big kiss in celebration, and he looked into her eyes, surprised at the sweetness of her response, and then she gave him a long lingering one back, and he felt obliged to reciprocate in kind, and so they found themselves with a big decision to make.
        "Do we stay here snogging, sweet-lips, or do we go back in the cave and show the others the way out?" asked James.
        "Well, they can't very well miss it, can they now, James?" she laughed, and she voted with her lips to carry on snogging.
        "Who am I to argue with a lady," said James, and he affirmed  this by crossing his heart, "and you know I try to keep my promises, Pauline, but," he gently turned her head round towards the right, "we have a very interested audience of young school-children on the path who are wondering what the hell we are doing, snogging our lips off, while being dressed in these bright fluorescent plastic over-suits."
         "Oops," she said, "let's go back into the cave."

CHAPTER TEN

Captured.
 

         Seeking refuge from prying eyes, James and Pauline crawled back through the drain into the Brokenstal Chamber, and as they prepared to carry on where they had left off, James was thinking to himself, 'A very nice girl, this Pauline, very pretty, I don't know why I never noticed her before, very attractive, especially when she lets her blonde hair down, hair which was all tucked up under her helmet at that moment, why, she looks almost like Baby Spice at times, except Pauline has these gorgeous deep-brown come-to-bed eyes, and boy, can she kiss.'

               What he didn't realise at the time was that Pauline was in a very similar situation to the one he had been in not so very long ago, because, despite all appearances to the contrary, and her eager participation in many a hot and steamy snogging session, she had never actually gone all the way, but she had this thing about James, call it love, or perhaps simply infatuation, but she was hoping to rectify the situation with a little help from James, at the earliest opportunity.

           With a crash and a bang and a hail-fellow-well-met the other Ramblers arrived from down the Long Walk, on mass, like so many bargain-hunters storming a shop on sales day.
         "Bugger," said Pauline, looking more than a little peeved at being thwarted, yet again, but she made no attempt to hide the fact that James and herself were now an item, and she held onto his hand, tightly, and he had no objection, he quite liked it.
         "Bloody Nora, I told you so," said Spud, "hey, you two, you're supposed to be looking for the way out of here, not trying to get into each others knickers," he chastised them.
          "Been there, done that," said James, "finding the way out I mean," he blushed in the darkness, but nobody noticed, "it's down that passage over there, a fifteen foot crawl through a drain and you're outside in the sunshine, in the valley bottom, under Steam House Mansions, and now, with your permission we would now like to carry on with that other suggestion."
        "Bloody Nora," said Spud, "come on fellas," and they jostled one another to be first into the passage to do the through trip out into daylight, with Valerie using her ample proportions to win the tussle, and a barely-heard voice floated back, "permission to carry on," and some distant laughter.

           Not the best of places to romance someone, this Brokenstal Chamber, and after much crunching of broken stalactites under foot, and getting bits sticking into places you didn't even know you had, Pauline threw in the towel and suggested they wait until they could get back to the comfort of her tent and a double sleeping bag.
          James agreed and they laughed, and they had one last lingering kiss, and then set about exploring the chamber.

           "It would be a good idea to check the roof of this chamber," Pauline suggested, "seeing as half of it has fallen down already ... 'cos we don't want to get Henry'd by some of those giant stalactites at this stage of the game, do we, James?"
          James acquiesced to her superior wisdom and noticed a large dark passage at the top of a pile of broken jagged rock fragments which didn't look too safe, but which was climbable.

          "Pauline, up this way," he said, helping her up over the unstable mass until they were standing in a fairly large man-made tunnel, which headed off into the distant gloom. Not that she needed any help, but she quite enjoyed getting the attention, as much as he enjoyed giving it.

           A melee of laughing voices told them that the Ramblers had re-entered the cavern and were looking for them.
          "Up here," Pauline yelled down from her roof-level vantage point, "and tell Zeke we've found another mine tunnel."
           "Mine tunnel?"
          Zeke came up the slope at the gallop, with the others following on, but taking a more cautious approach.
          With common courtesy put on hold, Zeke zoomed past them both and zoomed off into the darkness of the tunnel, without so much as a 'by your leave', as though he owned the place by some God-given right, and James and Rita just laughed at this discourtesy and followed in his wake.
          "You know, James," Pauline confided, "if Zeke paid even half as much attention to Penny that he does to 'His Bloody Mines' they wouldn't be having the problems they are having at present."
          "I didn't know they were having any problems."
          "Well, everybody knows, except Zeke, that Penny got you up here to shag your brains out for a week, but it all went belly up for her didn't it, when Zeke didn't go away on his geology trip, as he was meant to... but never mind, eh?" she smiled happily, "her loss is most definitely my gain," and she took him by the hand and dragged him off down the passage after Zeke.

         They found Zeke on his hands and knees unscrewing a square man-sized white-painted mesh cover from its metal surround in the passage wall.
        "There's a room behind here," he informed them, "looks like a canteen room that they built underground for miners in the old days, only there's something funny here, this is fresh paint."
         Zeke pulled the cover back into the passage and stuck his head through the gap, pulled back, swivelled round feet first and with a grin vanished down into the gloom.
        James put his head in the hole, and pulled back like a scolded cat when the room was suddenly illuminated with bright incandescent electric light, and a loud joyful, "Eureka," from Zeke.
         "Somebody has paid the electric bill," joked Zeke, as he pointed to the light switch he had just turned on, "I told you so, this place is a canteen, electric stove, hot water heater, electric kettle, a fridge, and it's even got the proverbial kitchen sink," he listed things in his usual academic manner, "and it's being used, right now ... what do you make of that?" he asked nobody in particular, the question being directed at himself. The walls were plastered smooth, freshly painted and the canteen was spotlessly clean, but a spicy smell hung in the air, like curry.
          James swung down into the canteen, followed by all the other Happy Ramblers, and it was starting to get a little crowded, so  Zeke opened a door and this led into a smaller room with four more doors leading off, one into a small storeroom, the second into a larger room with a table and chairs, and some couch beds, and the third refused to be opened, it appeared to be locked. The last door opened on to a shower cubicle and toilet.
          The entire complex, however, was warm, and dry, and had obviously been visited quite recently, but what was the purpose of such a place? It looked like some end-of-the-world survivalist's bunker for use in the event of a nuclear war, or it could even belong to the government, but after working for the government for so long James knew it lacked the required boring red-tape regimentation, this looked lived in.

          The Ramblers set about searching the rooms and made some disturbing discoveries which showed that this was definitely not government property.
           The smaller storeroom contained guns, lots and lots of guns, handguns, light machine guns, AK47 rifles.

               And ammunition, lots of ammunition, and rocket launchers, the same as those shown on TV in reports of the Taliban in Afghanistan.  
           "Ye gods," said James, "these are Stinger missiles, my cousin Edward is really into aircraft and I was looking at these on his computer only last week, look, they've even got the bloody technical manuals."
 

FIM92A "Stinger", a passive IR homing surface-to-air
 missile for short-range air defence that offers ground
 forces protection against low-altitude airborne targets.

 
        "These are for knocking down low flying aircraft, and we have plenty of those flying overhead here round here, don't we Chunky?" said James, "do you remember what you told me the other day when we were down at the Water Hole and those Tornados flew right overhead?"
        "If he was any lower we could hit him with a rock, and if we had a rocket launcher they would both be dead ducks by now."
        "Well, Chunky, somebody has got a rocket launcher."
        "Bloody Nora," said Chunky, a man of few words.

           The larger room had a desk in the corner, on which there was a radio transmitter, with the aerial going out through the wall, but none of the Ramblers could recollect seeing an aerial anywhere near the Steam House Mansions.
            A large poster of a Tornado pinned up on the wall had a large red X slashed across it, and some unintelligible graffiti, leaving little doubt of its perpetrators feelings and intentions.

           Maps in the desk drawer were of military aircraft flight paths, and there were photos of Tornados and other aircraft, and leaflets written in what appeared to be Arabic.
          James knew a few words of spoken Arabic, but he couldn't read or write it. His father had taken him on this fabulous trip to Egypt the year before he had died, and being his dad, he had insisted that James learn a few phrases in Arabic, as the locals really appreciated someone taking the effort to learn even a few simple words like, yes, no, hello, good bye, how are you, and other simple phrases, which he had gleaned from a BBC language cassette entitled, 'Getting By In Arabic'.
         James had thoroughly enjoyed his trip of a lifetime and had found the local people to be very friendly, loved sweets, and enjoyed a good joke, and his few learned words paid dividends.
           The couch beds were similar to those he had seen in Egypt, being used as seats through the day and to sleep on at night, and they were arranged around the perimeter of the room, in the fashion of a North African country, and prayer maps were carefully rolled up on a shelf under the table.

            A computer was tucked away on another desk at the far end of the room. Zeke turned it on and its screen lit up with a picture of a Tornado on a restricted access web site.
 

 
         "Bloody Nora," said Spud, wondering just what kind of hornet's nest they had stirred up, "Chunky, get taking some photographs," he ordered, to which Chunky duly complied by fitting an extended memory chip into his camera and snapping everything in sight.
 

 
          "What about that other door?" Spud asked Zeke.
         "It won't open, it must be locked, but it has to lead outside, but where to is the question?" said Zeke, giving the door some 'Heavy Welly', as they say up North, but it wouldn't budge.
         "It's got to be hidden in the Steam House Mansions," said James, "how about I go outside, back up through the vent and out through the drain, and you bang on the door, and I should be able to hear you, and we can find the door from outside."
        "Good idea," agreed the Ramblers.
         "I'm coming with you." insisted Pauline.
         "Okay, up you go Pauline," and James gave Pauline a bunk up through the vent, whereupon she turned around and helped him climb through.
         "I'll bang three times like this," said Zeke, and hammered on the door three times, and stepped back in amazement as the door flew open and four very agitated Arab-looking men burst in waving guns and demanded that they all sit down on the floor.
         Jules was a bit tardy in complying with the instructions and got a nasty pistol whipping about the head and shoulders until he did as he had been told to do, and he sullenly slumped to the floor, bleeding from a cut to the cheek, but if looks could kill?

        While all this melee was going on beneath them, James motioned with his finger to his lips for Pauline to keep quiet, and very carefully and very quietly replaced the vent cover, without attracting the attention of the gun-men, who were jabbering away to one another in Arabic.
        "Well," whispered James, peering through the slots in the vent cover, "I know at least two of them are Egyptians, they are saying words that only Egyptians use, like iowa for yes, other Arabs say naam for yes, but the other two are using accents that I don't recognise at all, might not even be Arabs.
        The door opened and a fifth person entered the room, and James whistled softly in surprise, "It's that short-arsed barsteward Paddy," he whispered, "the bloody landlord from the Drunken Duck."
   "What the hell's going on, Omar?" demanded shifty-eyed Paddy, recognising the Ramblers straight off, "why the hell have you brought these bastards in here?"
       "They were in here when we arrived," Omar insisted.
        "My people are not going to like this, Omar," Paddy said, with a cold look in his eyes, "you have blown our cover for the best weapons store in the whole of the UK, and my friends are not going to like this at all, and they have a long reach."
        James had no problem figuring out who 'my friends' were.
        "The bastards were already in here when we arrived," Omar insisted again.
        Paddy ignored him and the tirade continued as he turned his attention to the Ramblers, "Twenty four hours, that's all we needed, and now you bastards have gotten yourselves in a whole heap of trouble," Paddy snarled at them as they recoiled away from his venom, and hunched back against the wall.
        "People know we are here," said Zeke, bluffing for all he was worth, "and they will come looking for us soon."
         "And who's people then," asked Paddy, grabbing Zeke by the lapels and standing him up against the wall, "wait a minute, there's somebody missing here," his eyes rolled round the faces of the ramblers and continued rolling in a mad frenzy.
        "Where's that little shit, James," Paddy demanded, pushing Zeke's head so hard up against the wall everyone could feel the thump of bone on rock, "I have a score to settle with that horny little bastard."
         "Don't know," Zeke groaned, "he's not here, he went off on his own."
       "Lying little shit," howled Paddy, shoving his gun hard up under Zeke's chin until he gagged and gasped for air, "he's around here somewhere, I know it."
       "Omar," Paddy ordered, "take Abdul and search every nook and cranny, I know he's around here somewhere, and, Nizar, Hassan, you two keep a close eye on this bunch, and if they get stroppy ... shoot the bastards ... hang on, just a minute, someone else is missing, where's that Baby Spice look-a-like bird?" he asked, turning his attention back to Zeke, and raising his gun-arm as if to pistol-whip him if he didn't get an immediate answer.
        "She went off with James," Zeke answered truthfully.
        "Little whore," snarled Paddy.
       "There's no one else here," reported Omar, returning from the search, "but I want to know how they got in here, the door was locked when we got here, I had to open it with the key."
       Paddy looked around the room, glancing upwards, and James pulled away from the vent, still watching through the slits.
        "They came in the vent shaft," Paddy said, making a move to drag a desk across the room so he could reach the vent.

          "MOVE," James ordered Pauline, quietly but firmly, "get the hell out of here, NOW," he propelled her down the tunnel, "go up into the cave, back to Giant's Hall, you'll be safe up there, DO NOT GO OUT BY THE DRAIN, there may be more of them outside on the path, I'll catch you up before you know what, promise," he smiled reassuringly, crossing his heart.
         She paused to look at him, as though to say something.
         "Don't bloody argue, woman, GET GONE!" his voice was grim and commanding, and he turned his attention to jamming the catches on the ventilation cover so it couldn't be opened from the other side ... at least he hoped it couldn't.
          Pauline did as she had been told and left, very reluctantly.

        "Hassan, Nizar, keep your eye on them," Paddy repeated, pointing at the Ramblers, as he climbed up on the desk and wrenched savagely at the vent, but it wouldn't budge.
          "I know you're in there, you little shit, James," he snarled, trying in vain to look through the slats into the darkness.
          James just lay there, stock still, not moving a muscle and trying not to breathe in case he was heard.
         Paddy was enraged. He pointed his gun and shot one of the catches off. The bang was deafening in the small space and everybody winced in pain, including the terrorists, who crouched down in case of ricocheting bullets.
        "Shit," said James and he beat a hasty retreat down the passage towards Brokenstal Chamber.
         Paddy shot another catch off the vent and wrenched it away from the wall. Abdul handed him a torch and joined him on top of the desk, with Omar following.
          "I've got a little present for you James," he sniggered as he climbed through the vent and hastened down the passage following the faint glimmer of James' light.
        James came crashing down the loose boulder slope, 'he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb,' he thought,  closely followed by an enraged Paddy, who paused, drew an unsteady bead on James' back in the darkness and fired his revolver at the fleeing figure.
        James thought he had been hit as something 'chinged' off his helmet, and he felt a hard thump on his shoulder, then he realised it was a piece of stalactite, shaken from the roof by the sound from Paddy's gun.
         He heard a scream, and turned round to see Paddy had been spiked by a large stalactite that had fallen from the roof in the midst of a host of others, his gun and torch clattering down the slope to land at James' feet.

           James grabbed the gun and pointed it at Paddy, but Paddy was past caring, he was quite dead. The stalactite stood bolt upright like some pre-ordained headstone in a cemetery, pinning Paddy to the floor like a butterfly in a museum case.
           The glimmer of lights appeared from above, in the mine tunnel, and the sound of foreign voices mumbled through the gloom, and discretion being the better part of valour, James considered it was time to go, and he melted quietly away into the darkness of the Long Walk.

         Pauline was waiting impatiently at the bottom of the big pitch, and she came running over to greet him, and they hugged one another, unashamedly weeping in relief.
         "I thought they'd got you when I heard gun shots," sobbed Pauline, and held him so tight James had to pry himself loose, in order to breathe.
         "That was Paddy," James said, "silly bugger brought the roof down in Brokenstal and he got himself Henry'd, good and proper, spiked by a stalactite, dead as a door nail."
         "Poor man," said Pauline, "Colleen will be devastated."
         "The bastard was trying to shoot me," complained James, shaking his head at the unfathomable way in which women could be so compassionate.
         "Now, let's get up this pitch out of here and then down to the Police Station in Settle, at all possible speed."
          "Can you check that I'm putting this harness on properly," he asked, letting her help to get him kitted up in the end, because Pauline had far more experience at this sort of thing than he had, and he appreciated her expertise, most gratefully, this was no time for any male 'macho' bravado crap.

        Back in Brokenstal Chamber, Omar found Paddy, and shouted back to Abdul in Arabic: "Paddy' dead, and I don't know which way they have gone, we must go back to the bunker."
          They slid back down through the vent and found the Ramblers still crouched against the kitchen wall with Hassan and Nizar, guns at the ready, watching them like hawks.
        Omar turned his attention to the Ramblers and picked on Zeke, because Paddy had done so previously, "Your friends in the cave, how do they get out again?"
         Zeke did a rapid calculation, that anyone in the valley would have caught James and Pauline anyway if they had left by the drain entrance, but he figured that James was too smart a cookie to do that, so he said: "We got in through a cave in the valley bottom near here, under the Steam House Mansions." calculating that this would sound far more feasible to Omar than entering the cave over a mile away, up on the hillside.
        "Abdul," Omar took charge, "take Nizar and go outside and look to see if they have come out in the valley, and if they are not there, go into the village and see if they are in that caving café, and if they are there, use grenades to kill everyone in the café, our mission must succeed, leave no one to talk, and if they are not there, come back here, okay?"
           "Okay," said Abdul, and they left the bunker to do as they had been instructed.
          "Watch them carefully, Hassan," ordered Omar in Arabic, "I will have to get on the radio and find out what to do now," and turning back to the Ramblers he said in English: "I have told Hassan to shoot anyone who misbehaves, starting with the girls, but if you behave yourself we will let you go tomorrow," he lied, intending to kill them all anyway, but, he figured that they may serve some purpose by being kept alive, for the moment.
        "I need to use the toilet," said Valerie, before Omar could leave the kitchen.
         "Okay," conceded Omar, "you can all go to the toilet, one at a time, girls first, and I will watch you to make sure there is no funny business," he sniggered.
         "Okay," said Valerie, "but with the girls, one goes to the toilet and one watches you, or we stay here and make a mess all over your kitchen floor."
        Omar made as though to strike Valerie, and then thought better of it, as Zeke, Spud, Tich and Jules, instinctively made as though to rise as one and protect her.
          "Okay, be quick," he said.
         Very prudent of him, actually, because those four agile young men would have thrown all caution to the wind and would definitely have attacked him on the spot, gun or no gun. They were doers were the Ramblers, as James had so aptly said, and they would not just stand idly by while this animal hit one of the girls, not in a million years.
        With their toilet attended to, Omar went into the living quarters to use the radio and contact his superiors who were masterminding the whole operation. James had correctly assessed that their plan was to strike simultaneously at Tornado aircraft all over the country.
         "Carry on with the plan," Omar was told, "and you will succeed, yes? God willing?"
         "Iowa? Enshallah?" agreed Omar and shut the radio down.

         Abdul and Nizar returned from the village, empty-handed.
        "We went in the café, but they were not there," said Abdul, "so we came back here, like you told us to."
         "Okay," said Omar, "take two torches and go up through the vent into the cave, and take him with you," he pointed at Zeke, "to show you where the passage is that comes out in the valley, and block it up with rocks, there are a lot of rocks in the cave."
          "Hey you," he said, pointing at Zeke, "you will take these two men into the cave and show them the passage out into the valley, and no funny business, or we kill your friends, okay?"
          "Okay," said Zeke reluctantly.
           "Be careful, Zeke," said Penny, giving him a quick hug.
          "No problem, old girl," he smiled, nodded at the Ramblers and climbed up into the vent and on into Brokenstal Chamber.

         Up on the surface outside George's Old Cave Pauline removed the key to Tich's Landrover from its favourite hidey-hole, and said, "Okay if I drive?"
         "Just as well I should think," laughed James, "seeing as I've never got around to learning to drive," and they hastened to remove their caving gear so as to put on a change of very welcome warm clothing.
          "Where's my 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers then?" Pauline demanded as he stripped off to a pair of male underpants.
          "I saved you the best pair, the white ones with the red rose on them, because they are special, like you," he blustered, not wanting to talk about it, and he reached into the depths of his rucksack, carefully bypassing the clear transparent ones, he had other plans for that pair, and handed them over with an elaborate flourish.
         "'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers," she enthused, and throwing decorum to the wind she stripped off her old ones  and pulled on her new knickers, oblivious to anything else, oblivious even to James' open-mouthed appreciation of her nakedness, and of her very lovely figure, as she paraded up and down like a model.
           'What an absolute cracker of a girl,' he enthused, 'and she wants to hold that beautiful body next to mine,' and he wondered what he had ever done to be born so lucky.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Here Come the Calvary.

Counter-Revolutionary Warfare Wing - Special Projects Team - 22nd Special Air Service Regiment (SAS).

      The Police Officer on desk duty, one PC Holland, was almost poker faced, non-committal to say the least, when James and Pauline arrived on his police station doorstep with a tale of militant terrorists in an underground bunker who had taken their friends hostage and planned to shoot down all of our Tornado aircraft.
        There was a definite derision in his manner as he slowly made a list of their claims, one agonising delaying question after another, to a young couple anxious to get something done, and get something done, right now, this instant.
         'For God's sake, man, we need action,' James and Pauline looked at one another and thought the same thing simultaneously.
        "And they were foreigners, you say?" he plodded on and on.
        "Yes Arabs," said Pauline, fighting to control her annoyance.
       "And they had rocket launchers?" he had trouble keeping a straight face at that one.
         "Yes," said James, "Stinger missiles."
        "And they had lots of guns too, you say?" he lumbered on.
        "Rifles, submachine guns, pistols, like this one," said James in desperation, slamming the revolver on the desk top, and fully expecting a reply on the lines of ...,
          "I have to inform you, sir, that it an offence to be possession of a hand gun, and I must arrest you."
         However, PC Holland looked at the gun for what seemed an eternity, looked at James, slowly turned at looked at Pauline and then said one word, loudly.
         "Sergeant."
       And from then on things went into hyper-drive through Inspector, Special Branch, MI5 and a whirlwind trip through the Dales and over the Pennines to Royal Air Force Leeming, home of the nearest Tornados Squadrons.

        "I see you have a high security clearance, James," said the Commander, "and you have already signed the Official Secrets Act for your present job as a draughtsman on Atomic Submarines, you have just turned eighteen, you live on Baycliffe Island, alone with your mother, who is the Warden for the Nature Reserve."
        'Wow,' thought James, 'these people have certainly done their homework, I wonder if they know about the knickers?'
       "You, however, Miss Blair, have no security clearance," he added turning to Pauline, "so if you would like to go over there to the Leading Aircraftsman at the desk and sign the Official Secrets Act on all the appropriate dotted lines, we can get down to the business of rescuing your friends."
        "Being potholers, you will probably already know that we have our own permanent Mountain Rescue Team, who include some lads with excellent potholing experience, but, none of them have ever heard of this new cave system of yours, so, we have no alternative but to deputise you both as guides to take some of our people down through the top entrance, I trust you are willing to do this?" he waited for them to nod their agreement, "good, then we need you both in the debriefing room."

Click on the plan

       "This is Mister Bond, MI5, "said the Commander, "Military Intelligence Department Five, who would like to ask you some questions, if that's okay with you?"
        "Hello Pauline, hello James, you can call me Richard, no relation to my famous namesake, I'm afraid," he said, smiling at them both in a disarming fashion, and not waiting for any nods of agreement, "we need to know every little detail about what happened, even if it doesn't seem important to you, so don't be shy, you may provide the one clue that will help us save the lives of your friends from these militant fanatics."
         Pauline started to look upset at this cold appraisal of the situation so he rapidly added, "Not that we aren't certain we can rescue them okay, but you must appreciate that they are being held captive by people who are quite prepared to commit suicide for their beliefs, and would delight in taking as many of us infidels as possible with them, only, they believe they would be going to Paradise while we would all be going to everlasting damnation." 
        "I don't know how these suicide bombers can believe that killing other people guarantees them a place in Paradise," said Pauline, "surely God wouldn't condone such a thing."
        "I suppose that they have as much trouble understanding how God can allow such decadent people as us Westerners to thrive in this world," sighed Richard, "but belief is a pain in the arse at times, when someone's belief is the only truth they have, because unfortunately, just because someone believes something doesn't necessarily mean to say it is true ... but try telling that to anyone, they just carry on believing what they believe is the truth."
        "Oh, before we get down to business," Richard recalled, "you might like to know that your friends Ernie and Janine called out the CRO when you all failed to turn up, but we've sorted that out, and put their mind at ease ... you are helping the Army out, right?"
        "Good old Ernie," beamed Pauline, "total reliability."
       "So," asked Richard, getting down to business, "did you see anything like this when you were in the bunker?" showing them a small drawing, which looked like a propeller with three blades.

      "No," said James, "definitely not, I happen to work on the Nuclear Submarines and I would certainly recognise a Radiation Logo if I saw one, we have them all over the place at work ... but...," he paused and thought, "there was something similar, but it didn't look right, somehow, it had ... sort of tentacles."
        "You mean like this," said Richard, holding his breath.

         "Yes, that's it," said James, "I thought it was something to do with the terrorists, I mean it looks, well ...  Arabic-looking."
        "Shit," muttered Richard, under his breath, "and where did you see this logo, on a box, maybe, or on a glass bottle?"
        "No, it was on some papers on the desk, written in Arabic, you know I don't read Arabic, I thought it was their logo."
       "You are absolutely sure it was only on the papers on the desk, no where else?" he looked at James.
        "Only on the papers."
         "Pauline?"
         "I never saw it at all," said Pauline, "what is it?"
        "It's the sign for a Biohazard, you know, biological weapons of mass destruction and all that crap," said Richard.
         "Bugger," said Pauline, with James not far behind her.
         "You are absolutely sure, James, only on paperwork?"
        "Yes," said James, "only on some papers, in with the maps and stuff, and I was also in the storeroom looking at all the guns, but it wasn't in there, not that I could see."
       "So, how many terrorists did you see?" asked Richard, changing the subject completely.
       "Four," said James.
       "Five," corrected Pauline, "Paddy got killed."
      "That's right," confirmed James, "there were four Arabs, I think they were Arabs, they were speaking Arabic, two were definitely Egyptians, and Paddy, who was Irish, he chased after me, fired his gun in Brokenstal Chamber and the bang shook a stalactite off the roof which spiked him good and proper, and he's definitely dead."
        "I'll make a note for the lads to use MP5-SD's in there then," said Richard, leaving James and Pauline wondering what the hell MP5-SD's were when they were at home.

       "We have a plan of the Bunker," said Richard, producing a tatty-looking document with the unmistakable smell of it having been stored away in a library drawer for many years, "so if you could indicate where they are likely to be in the bunker, that would help us out no end."

         "You already know about the bunker then?" asked James.
        "It got lost, and we had forgotten about it," admitted Richard, "but it was constructed during World War II as a hide-a-way for Special Guerrilla Units of the Home Guard who were to come out and harass the enemy from behind the lines in the event of a successful invasion by the Germans," he laughed ironically, "who would ever have dreamed it would be used against us, one day?"
        So James, with frequent additions and contradictions from Pauline, related what had happened to them earlier that day, 'God, was that the time, already?' How they had escaped from the kitchen, and precisely who was there from the Ramblers, but as to where the terrorists would be in the bunker, he couldn't say, probably in the living quarters, and as to their emotional state, very agitated to say the least. As for the Ramblers, the last he saw of them,  they were all crouched down on the floor in the kitchen trying to avoid getting gun-whipped, but after a while his story lacked any real running order, and things started coming out as they popped into his head, and as for weapons, well,  the terrorists had everything including Stinger missiles.
        "Ah, yes," said Richard, "the Commander's already put a hold on all aircraft training flights, throughout the country, just in case there are more of these viper's nests hidden about, but we intend to hit this bunker, just before dawn, in the morning, and hopefully we will get our hands on their records and computers, they will speak volumes."
          "We have located the bunker door, by the way, it was tucked away out of sight behind, what did you call them?" Richard puzzled for a moment, "ha, yes, the Steamhouse Mansions."

         "Now, James, you specifically stated that at least two of the Arabs were Egyptians, if you don't mind me asking, what makes you so sure about that?" 
        "Because I heard them talking and I learned the Egyptian dialect of Arabic to holiday in Egypt and I recognised words like  iowa for yes, other Arabs say naam for yes, is that not true?"
          "Indeed, it is young James." said Richard, not appreciating that any reference to his apparent lack of years really upsets a young man in the presence of his girlfriend.
          "That is a very important lead for us, and it will probably mean we are dealing with the Egyptian Islamic Jihad, who normally restrict their activities to overthrowing the present Egyptian government and replacing it with an Islamic state, but they are a close partner of Bin Ladin's Al-Qaida organization, and we had best treat them as such in this instance."
     "They normally operate in the Cairo area of Egypt, but we know they have a network outside of Egypt, including the Yemen, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Sudan, Lebanon, and also here in the United Kingdom, so this lot could well be them."
      "With a bit of luck when we get our hands on their computer we could find out who is funding them in the UK and give them a good kicking as well," he grinned, "so to speak," but James and Pauline were left in no doubt that a good kicking was precisely what he meant.
       "In conclusion," Richard said, "we had to consider the possibility that their target could well have been something else."

     "The Atomic Power Stations at Heysham, for instance, or the Backbone Military Communications Masts on a hill-side near the bunker, the Menwith Hill Satellite Surveillance Station ... the one with all those huge white golf balls, or Sellafield Nuclear Reactor, but from your reports it would appear to be the destruction of a large part of our Tornado fighter squadrons in one fell swoop with synchronised Stinger missile strikes during their training flights ... now, you've got to hand it to the one who thought that up ... for its sheer ingenuity and audacity."
        "What, with tourists of all nationalities arriving in the area to go walking, round the waterfalls, carrying rucksacks," said Richard, "no one would have given them a second thought, as they sat on the wall at Steamhouse Mansions, eating their sandwiches, just waiting for the opportunity to disappear into the bunker ... yes, a very nice set up, and having Irish Paddy living as a resident in the village, working as landlord of the local pub put him in a position to lend an ear to all the local gossip, without arousing suspicion, yes, very well thought out, indeed."
       James was beginning to learn that our lot had a great deal of respect for the ability of the other lot and would deal with them in the manner that they deserved, which really meant that our lot would be shooting to kill, as there was no option to simply wound the terrorists - because a wounded fanatic in possession of a weapon is an extremely dangerous animal who would simply take his pain and frustration out on the hostages.
       "There will be no negotiation," Richard informed them, "for the terrorists will have no desire to surrender, their mission has failed, and they can only hope to redeem themselves in martyrdom." 
        "And if the they start killing the hostages out of spite, or we believe they are about to start killing them, our people from the Police Special Branch are already on station outside the bunker."

      "They are keeping a very low profile but they are all fully kitted up for action and they will most certainly act immediately, but either way, them or us, the terrorists will probably be coming out of that bunker on stretchers."

         "Now," said Richard, "I would like to hand you over to the Major in charge of the SAS side of the operation, so he can bring you up to speed on what is required of you, and after that I suggest you get a couple of hours sleep, if you can, so I will wish you well in your venture, and Major, they are all yours."

        "Thank you, Mister Bond," said the Major, "hello Pauline, hello James, pleased to meet you, and just call me Boss, okay?"
         The Boss thought James and Pauline might be interested in seeing some SAS weaponry and equipment - who wouldn't - before the briefing so he had an instructor run through the basic SAS gear, and they learned a lot.
          "Most people," the instructor said, "they think we use special equipment but where ever possible we use standard military issue, it's simpler, and is always readily available, but of course the lads are trained on a whole variety of foreign weapons, just in case they need to use them, in the field, especially the AK47 rifle, the favoured weapon of most terrorists."
               "Here's what we use," he said, and produced an impressive array of weaponry, "bearing in mind that you aren't getting to use any of this, yourself, because you will be kept well out of the way when the liquid hits the fan ... we can't be having any civilians hurt because the paperwork I would have to fill in for that would be quite horrendous." and they all laughed at the joke.
 

HK MP5 Submachine Gun

     "The HK MP5 Submachine Gun is a reliable CQB (close quarter battle) weapon which uses 9mm calibre ammunition in a closed bolt position during all forms of fire making this weapon highly controllable, even with its high rate of fire, and its collapsible stock, and light weight make it very manoeuvrable in tight spaces."

MP5 SD Submachine Gun

        "The MP5 SD Submachine Gun is basically the same as the HK MP5, except it is fitted with a removable sound suppressor, specifically to reduce the sound and flash without having to use subsonic ammunition, and we will be using these underground."

SA 80

           "The SA 80 is a more powerful 5.56mm calibre weapon, high performance optical sight, 4x magnification, very little recoil, 650-800 rounds/minute, range of 400m, designed to dismantle without the need for special tools, but I doubt we will need to use this type of rifle on this mission."

L2 Grenade

       "The L2 Grenade is a highly explosive anti-personal grenade, based on the US M26 grenade. It has a delay of 4.4 seconds and an effective killing radius of 10 metres, but we can't use these for a hostage rescue when your friends are in the room, can we?"

Flash Bang

      "The Flash Bang is a very effective device for hostage rescue. It emits a vivid blinding 'Flash' and an extremely loud 'Bang'. The idea being to completely disorientate the enemy without killing him, thus giving the SAS time to infiltrate the premises, giving them the extra seconds they needed to neutralize the terrorists, and safely rescue the hostages, in this case, your friends."

A Light Kit

      "This is a typical kit, a HK MP5 Submachine Gun, spare ammo clips, stun grenades, and an FN Browning High Power 9mm semi-automatic pistol as a back-up but for CT/HRT missions the back-up pistol is usually a 9mm SIG Sauer P226, with 20-round mags, and "CT/HRT means Counter Terrorist/Hostage Rescue Team."

M72- Light Anti Tank Weapon (LAW)

     "The M72- Light Anti Tank Weapon (LAW) is a throw away type rocket with a 66mm HEAT warhead, muzzle velocity 145m/s, a range up to range 1000m, capable of penetrating 305mm of armour, with six spring loaded fins to stabilize the rocket in flight, and can shoot the shit out of most things, oops, pardon my French," he said, smiling at Pauline, who didn't seem to mind.
 

 
          "Wow, a rocket launcher," enthused James, "which, no doubt you are going to use to blow off the bunker's iron doors."
          "Hardly," smiled a bemused instructor, "this warhead will go through 305mm of armour plating, and as the door will only be about 6mm thick, at the most, it would go straight through both doors and plaster your friends on the bunker walls like so much red-coloured wallpaper ... no, I don't think so," he laughed out loud, "we have a much safer method for getting past those steel-plated bunker doors, it's called a Remington 870 12-gauge pump-action shotgun."
       "Normally," he continued, trying to rapidly assess just how much they needed to be told, "we use this for massive close-range firepower, when needs must and the Devil drives, but we have special slugs which can be used to breach doors, and this should be quite adequate here."

          The Instructor continued: "The squadron on CRW duty (Counter-Revolutionary Warfare) must maintain a Special Projects (SP) group which is on constant alert to conduct CT/HRT missions (Counter Terrorist/Hostage Rescue Team) on domestic or foreign soil. An SP team consists of approximately eighty operators who are commanded by a Major and a Warrant Officer and divided into two sub-teams - a Red Team and a Blue Team - on a twenty-four hour stand by for anti-terrorist and hostage rescue operations. The basic SAS anti-terrorist team consists of about thirty men. The presence of two teams allows two incidents to be covered at the same time. In the event of more then two incidents there are contingency plans for other squadrons to provide teams ... is that clear enough so far?"
       James and Pauline nodded, although they were a bit unsure on the detail, which continued to come, thick and fast.
      "The teams spend their time and considerable ammunition in the Killing House, (the training centre), honing their skills. Each of the sub-teams consists of an assault group, plus  a surveillance/ sniper group consisting of a number of marksmen who maintain perimeter security and provide eyes-on-target. They are also trained as assaulters. The snipers wear ghillie suits and their duties are entrusted to the Accuracy International PM 7.62mm, bolt action rifle (L96A1), which is effective up to 800 meters. Sometimes, for shorter ranges, the HK G41 5.56mm rifle fitted with scope and bipod may be used. The Barrett M82A2 0.50cal semi-automatic rifle may be used for extreme long range sniping for 1000+ metres, or for STI, Soft Target Interdiction, that's cars, trucks, light armour, generators etc. in layman's language," he added for their benefit.
        "The assault group typically operates in groups of four but this setup is flexible depending on the situation. One of the assault groups is the Method of Entry (MOE) team whose job it is to decide how to penetrate the target, in this case the bunker, and to prepare any explosive charges or special breaching equipment that might be needed. Each group also has a medic trained to provide immediate attention to gunshot wounds, burns etc."
       "This MOE team," he chided, looking at James, "is the group who will not suggest blowing up the bunker with an M72 rocket launcher," and James and Pauline both laughed with him.
      "A signals group makes sure that the teams have communication from anywhere in the world. Some of these will be above the cave during the assault talking by special radios to the teams inside the cave, and they have all been fully trained for this with the assault team. The men usually drive to the scene of the incident in Range Rovers and Ford Transit vans, carrying with them all the weaponry and equipment needed to go into action the moment they are on site."

            "To clear up one or two misconceptions about the SAS, only about one in every twelve soldiers passes the course, the physical requirements being so strenuous, and it's a fact, that, as of today, the teams are entirely male - this is one of the remaining bastions of common sense where excellence in performance is placed ahead of political correctness - though it may not be long before there are females in the ranks, I shouldn't wonder, but they will be there because they could kick the stuffing out of the other male applicants who wanted that job," he smiled, and James figured the instructor had a lady in mind who James definitely wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of, on a dark night, no sir.

          "Secondly," he continued, "most people think our SAS cap badge depicts a winged dagger, but it is in fact King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, surrounded by flames. The motto 'Who Dares Wins' was born early in the Second World War, when a British army officer, David Stirling, came up with the idea of a highly-trained special force which would wreak havoc on enemy supply lines, bases and morale."

          "Okay, any questions?" the instructor asked, "all perfectly clear?" he grinned to himself when they nodded, "then I suggest you get a couple of hours sleep, the Leading Aircraftman will show you to the guest quarters, sleep tight, you have a heavy day tomorrow."

        Very much to his surprise, James found that the Leading Aircraftsman was a pretty young lady, "Hi there, handsome, my name is Stephanie, call me Steph." and she looked quite fetching in her ghillie suit, he noticed, in an interested male sort of way, and she was also looking at James in a similar hungry predatory fashion, well, it looked liked she could eat him up, and the young lady was visibly put out when she found out that he was already sharing the same room with Pauline.
          She shrugged her shoulders and gave James the old 'Come up and see me sometime' sort of a smile that left young James in a bit of a fluster, and no doubt whatever to her intentions.
         'Women are a bit like buses,' he thought woefully, 'you are waiting for ages and none arrive, and then all of a sudden the whole fleet of them arrives all at once,' and he smiled back at her with a rueful, 'Sorry, my card is fully booked at the moment, perhaps later, I hope,' look, and followed Pauline into the room.  

        James woke up with a start ... not having remembered falling asleep ... then he recollected getting back to the guest quarters with Pauline ... lying on the bed while she had a shower ... and... he never heard Pauline approaching the bed naked, except for her 'Miss-by-Elaine' silk knickers, or her softly spoken "Bugger" as she realised he was fast asleep.
       She was sorely tempted to wake him but she thought better of it, and lightly kissed him on the forehead, and whispered: "Sleep tight, lover boy, we will get another chance in the morning," and she lay on the bed and cuddled up to him, ever so gently, and went to sleep, herself.
       The male orderly who woke them up had bellowed, "On with socks, hands off cocks, breakfast in the mess room, ten minutes ... oops, sorry Madam, standard wake up call for the men," and retreated quickly backwards through the door.
      'Bugger,' thought Pauline, as her plans for her liberation were foiled, yet again ... so they dressed and went for breakfast.

 

Author's Addendum
Please note that no information has been divulged
about the Weaponry and Tactics of the SAS, or
the Standard Operating Procedures of the RAF,
or other Military Organisations, that in any way
breaches the Official Secrets Act, or which have not
already been made available in the public domain.

WARNING

BIOHAZARD
Never touch anything with this logo.

RAF Flying Stations
RAF Leeming

RAF Search and Rescue Links
  202 Squadron at RAF Leconfield
22 Squadron at RAF Valley

Click on the plan to open it

CHAPTER TWELVE

Show Time

       While the main assault teams gathered around the bunker's main door awaiting the decision to attack, the plan included sending another  team into George's Old Cave to approach the bunker from above and behind, within the cave system, whereby they could set up some surveillance equipment to gather more information on the disposition of the terrorists, and to cut off any chance of escape in that direction. This long round-about route was necessary because the valley entrance through the drain had been blocked off with rocks and the teams had no way of knowing what would await them if they tried to get in that way.
     The four-man team, all in their middle twenties, accompanied by James and Pauline, arrived up at George's Old Cave in a nondescript Ford Transit van, loaded down with all the weaponry and equipment needed for the mission.
          A team of local police officers patrolled the area around the cave to keep sight-seers and sticky-beakers well away from the action, although at four-thirty in the morning it seemed that the tourists were a bit thin on the ground, to say the least.
        The SAS team members kitted up in their fire-retardant overalls and body armour, donned a balaclava-type flash hood, night goggles, respirator for gas, chemical and biological hazard protection, and all the weaponry, medical gear, a special communications device, rappelling gear, special black ropes, and loads of other totally unidentifiable stuff in seemingly never-ending quantities.
        "You are never going to get through the narrow chimney rift to Snow White's chamber with that lot on," Pauline told Butch, the team leader, "you'll have to strip and re-kit, it's fairly tight, but only for a couple of feet," and Butch smiled at her and nodded an acceptance of the fact.
        "Don't get too excited when we do," he flirted, "the sight of four SAS men doing a strip-tease at one of our parties has been known to have you ladies swooning in the aisles."
        Pauline laughed, smiling at him in a coquettish manner. 
      The men were all quite smitten with Pauline, well, she was an absolute cracker, and Pauline was quite taken with the attention she was getting from them, although they were not as big as she had expected them to be, all being fairly small, wiry individuals, with a tremendous power-to-weight ratio, as the Boss had put it, but all packing enough male testosterone to supply a Russian Lady's Weight Lifting Team with a week's requirements of the drug ... the mind boggles at the thought, it was certainly effecting our Pauline, she fair glowed.
        "By the way, Pauline, James," Butch

said, "you need to wear these radiation dosimeters, just clip one in your pocket and we'll check it later to see if there's any radioactivity about ... just to be on the safe side, eh, we can't be too careful with a pretty girl about, can we?" he smiled at Pauline, and she liked it.

          Pauline descended the big pitch first, followed by the SAS team and James was to bring up the rear, his skill at the job having vastly increased in the last few hours, well, when necessity drives in the form of gun-happy terrorists, one learns quick, or  else the Devil does take the hindmost.
        James needn't have worried about the performance of the SAS men on the big pitch, they had even brought there own black ropes, which they descended with consummate ease, gliding silently down and blending invisibly into the pitch black darkness within a few feet.

            'I should be that good,' James thought as he watched.
          All descended safely, and they zoomed off down past Ernie's Pillar, which even brought an admiring, "Very nice," from one of the lads, as with Pauline in the lead they headed off down Long Walk at a brisk trot, and then they quietly formed a group together, in a wider part of the passage, just before Brokenstal Chamber.
         "Okay," Butch ordered, "now, Pauline, you stay here, there is no way we can endanger a female civilian on a job like this ... you are going to be alright on your own, aren't you?" he asked as a very belated afterthought.
         "Of course I am," she said, "actually, I love sitting in the dark, on my own, underground, meditating and enjoying the peace and quiet of it all, and the nice cool air, but very nice of you to ask."
         "Good," said Butch, not quite knowing if she was serious, which she was, actually, or quietly taking the piss at his male chauvinism, but he just shrugged, "okay, James, you show us how to get up into the mine shaft, and where the vent is to the bunker, and then you are to come right back here with Pauline, understood?"
          "Understood, Butch," said James.
          "Okay, lads," said Butch, "let's go and take up positions, oh, and James, no talking from here on, okay?"  James nodded silently at him.
        James turned and smiled and blew a little kiss to Pauline and got one back, as did all the other members of the group, and he took the lead position through Brokenstal Camber, somewhat bemused at her convivial actions towards the others.
        Paddy was still there, pinned neatly to the boulder slope, simply abandoned by his compatriots. Butch motioned to one of his team and Tinkerbelle, it's a long story, used his week's training in the morgue, doing post-mortem examinations, to reach a quick understanding of how Paddy had died, 'he got spiked with a stalactite,' he decided.
          'It's a good job we are using sound-suppressed MP5's sub machine guns,' he thought, 'I don't want to be under one of those pointed bastards when the liquid starts to hit the fan,' and he repositioned himself so as he was not under any of the larger stalactites.
         Cumpsty positioned himself near the drain exit passage and gave an instruction for Sparky to send a message that it was safe for the outside team to start digging out the rocks which had been put in to block the drain. He started shifting some rocks from his end and then unpacked his infra-red night goggles, just in case he needed to work in complete darkness.
        Sparky set up the low frequency radio aerial, which could penetrate rock by the apparent manipulation of induced low frequency electromagnetic gravitational waves, don't ask, such a thing is not supposed to exist, so they tell me, and made contact with the team on the surface, which, distance wise, wasn't that far away at all, maybe fifty feet at the most.
        "Boogie Woogie Rain Dance," he reported, which was a prearranged signal for 'Let's dance, you may clear the drain', just in case the message was intercepted by the terrorists, who had some fairly advanced technical gear in the bunker, according to the information supplied by James and Pauline at the debriefing.
       Butch motioned to James, whereupon they carefully climbed the slope into the mine tunnel, and from a safe distance away James indicated the position of the vent to Butch by mouthing, "twenty feet," and pointing in an exaggerated fashion.
        Butch silently acknowledged this gesture, as he pointed at James, and then he gestured back down the tunnel and mouthed "Go," and busied himself fitting some highly specialised technical surveillance devices to the vent grill which would let the people on the surface listen in to every word that was being said in the bunker's kitchen, and hopefully penetrate through to the living room, with a bit of luck, and he also fitted a pinhole camera pointing down through the slats to keep a permanent watch on the hostages, who had been left huddled up against the wall in the kitchen.
         James reluctantly returned down the slope, careful to avoid dislodging any rocks which might betray his presence, and he only let himself relax after reaching the sanctuary of Long Walk, as you could have cut the tension, the adrenalin and testosterone rush with a blunt butter-knife, it was so thick.
        He was very tempted to hang around in the entrance to Brokenstal but Sparky smiled at him, and gestured with his head sideways towards Long Walk, and he gave James a wriggled-finger wave that could only mean one thing ... which was, 'bugger off, there's a good lad, we don't want to have to worry about you being here.'

        Pauline greeted him warmly, and after bringing her up to date on the current events, she casually mentioned how nice it was to be on their own, at long last, and the SAS seemed to have things well in hand, and so they could relax, now they had done everything that they could do, and she gave him a cool-lipped kiss which very rapidly warmed up, and he thought, 'I like the way this girl thinks,' and reciprocated in kind.
          'This is all very nice,' James thought, 'but it didn't amount to anything as Pauline seemed to be miles away ... as though her thoughts were on something or perhaps somebody else,' and as it happened, he was perfectly right ... Pauline was well and truly infatuated with Butch, and although snogging with James was very nice, for both of them, she had some new plans as to the one who would finally liberate her into womanhood ... 'but how do I tell James,' she thought, still being very fond of him, and not wishing to upset him.

      The surface team of MI6, Ops and Special Branch were monitoring what was going on in the bunker in a very careful and systematic way, because the politicians wanted to reduce to a minimum the possibility of any civilian casualties, it didn't go down at all well, on the Evening News, civilian casualties, one couldn't slap a D-notice on civilian casualties and make it stick.
      The surprise element for an attack would be crucial because if the terrorists were alerted, they could become angry and violent towards the hostages, and that wasn't desirable either, from anybody's point of view.
      The Arabic speaking members of the team had rapidly gleaned that the terrorists were two Egyptians, an Algerian and an Iraqi, they were most certainly connected to al-Qaida, and they confirmed that Paddy had been the quarter master for the Irish connection, and this was one of their major arms dumps that Special Branch had known about for a long time, but had been unable to locate, until now.
         The movements of each individual terrorist was being noted, their emotional state, and a whole host of other detail was being studied to minimise the danger to the hostages when action was taken. They didn't want to end up in a situation where they were taking a knife to a gun fight, did they?
         The monitoring of Omar's calls had already allowed the triangulation of his superior's transmitter, and his boss's location was already surrounded by armed officers from Special Branch and plans were underway to hit them hard as well, at the appropriate time.

          Everybody was well pleased with the way things were progressing, and it showed, and they were perfectly content at the moment to just record as much of the terrorist's conversations as possible, hoping to get that one little piece of information that would break the whole network, worldwide.
       The police already knew of the terrorist's intention to kill the hostages at some time in the future, but at the moment the hostages were safe enough, although, at the slightest hint of it actually happening the police would be in there like a dose of salts ... but they had no intention of upsetting James and Pauline by telling them this, what point would it serve? None.

        The surveillance team started getting some bad news and immediately alerted the Major to the fact.
         "Our Omar's been on the radio again, sir, talking to his boss man and his boss isn't happy about the way things are going ... he's not happy at all, he thinks they have been rumbled ... and the boss is telling our Omar to get ready to kill the hostages," reported the listener, a blow by blow account of events as he heard them in his headphones.
         "Right," said the Major, turning to another operative, "inform the teams to go in, now, got that?"
           "Yes, sir," said the operative, "Stretch, you are to go in, now, I repeat, go in, now ... the current position of the terrorists is, one in the kitchen and three in the living quarters, you will be kept informed of any changes. The lobby is clear, I say again the lobby at present is clear."
         "Omar has just told Abdul to go into the storeroom and start making some booby-trap bombs with grenades, sir," the listener informed the Major, "and they intend to leave the bunker by way of the vent and blow up the bunker behind them, complete with all of the hostages, so it appears that they do not intend to martyr themselves, sir."
        "Tell Butch to be ready for them if any do survive Stretch's team, and they try to get away through the cave," The  Major said to the relay man.
       "Sparky, we have terrorists possibly attempting to escape through the cave very shortly, please take appropriate action," the operative informed him, and he received a very curt one letter acknowledgement.
         "K," said Sparky, and turning to Butch, he whispered "they may be coming our way very soon."

         The surface assault team of Stretch, Bozo, Tiger and Elvis dealt with the first iron-clad bunker door in a way which would have amazed James by its sheer simplicity.
          The team leader, Stretch, simply placed a long-handled metal turnkey through the key hole and silently unlocked the internal  deep-seated dead-bolts from within and opened the door, from the side mind you, so his companions would have a clear field of fire down the passage.

          The Method Of Entry team had most certainly excelled themselves this time, by not only finding the plans of the old bunker, but a spare set of usable keys, as well.
            Well done the MOE team, that was really professional of them, a bit lacking in the bang, crash, wallop that one expects of an entry, but surprise wise, so absolutely spot on, and that's what it's all about, professionalism by the best there is at this job.
        Stealthily, Stretch walked down the passage, with his team mates so close behind him they could have been one person, and gingerly and very quietly he inserted the well-oiled smaller key into the key hole of the second door and unlocked it.
        From information being fed into his ear by radio, from the surveillance team on the surface, the leader knew exactly where the terrorists were, one was in the kitchen, one was in the storeroom  and the other two were in the living quarters, and the lobby was clear to enter.
         He opened the door, and they slipped into the lobby, Tiger by the kitchen door, Bozo by the storeroom door, while Stretch and Elvis covered the living quarters door.
        At Stretch's signal they burst open the doors and threw their blinding Flash Bang grenades into the rooms. The grenades would blind and deafen everyone in the bunker for several seconds - except the troops themselves who were protected with their special equipment and goggles and could see through the flash and hear one-another  through the effects of the grenades.

         The Flash Bang is a very effective device for hostage rescue. It emits a vivid blinding 'Flash' and an extremely loud 'Bang'. The idea being to completely disorientate the enemy without killing him, or the hostages, thus giving the SAS time to infiltrate the bunker, by giving them the extra seconds they may need to neutralize the terrorists, and safely rescue the Happy Ramblers from their imminent deaths.
          The terrorists who were in the now darkened living room - the Bang having blown all the light-bulbs - attempted to retaliate by raising their weapons but Stretch and Elvis were expert marksmen and had already burst into the room and they used their HK MP5 Submachine Guns with ruthless efficiency and Omar and Hassan were dead within a fraction of a second.
            No talking. No liberal debate. No hesitation. No pussy-footing. If it's got to be you or me? Okay, then it's you. Bang you're dead. End of story. The good guys 2, bad guys 0.

            Meanwhile, in the storeroom, Abdul was just taking the pin out of a grenade, to be used as a booby trap, when the Bang knocked him over and Bozo took him out with one well placed shot, hell, one doesn't spray bullets around a room full of explosives, does one?  3-0 to the good guys. It was going well.

  ZERO - Bozo saw Abdul let go of the grenade, and he watched it tumble to the floor, in front of him, and he watch the spring- loaded release lever click open, so he screamed at the top of his voice, "Grenade."
  ONE SECOND GONE  - Bozo scooped up the grenade, by sheer instinct and he turned on his heels towards the door, still yelling, "Grenade."
  TWO SECONDS GONE - Bozo was hurtling across the lobby while pulling his arm back to throw the grenade up the entrance passage, still yelling, "Grenade."
  THREE SECONDS GONE - His body slammed up against the rock hard left hand wall of the open doorway, whilst his right hand continued throwing the grenade out into the entrance passage, still yelling, "Grenade."
  FOUR SECONDS GONE - just time to start pulling his arm back safely behind the lobby wall when, "TH----WA---CK", the grenade exploded harmlessly in the passage, okay, so it took all the paint off the walls and sprayed the storeroom wall in the lobby with a pretty pattern of deep gouges, and a tiny piece of shrapnel took a neat piece of material out of Bozo's gloves, but he was unharmed, and a few bits did spray outside the entrance, and a few bits splashed prettily into the river, and William Tell the Sniper, positioned a hundred metres across the river and directly lined up with the bunker entrance, saw the flash of the exploding grenade, instinctively ducked, and swore blind that some bits whizzed over his head.

      "So much for a thirty metre killing range," spat William in disgust of such highly inaccurate technical data, when, expert that he was at his job, he could not only shoot an apple off someone's head at a hundred metres, he could shoot an ear off, in fact, with him, it was more a case of, 'just how much of his ear do you want me to shoot off, sir?'  Our William Tell took pride in his work, but unfortunately for him, on this sortie, he wasn't required to demonstrate his consummate skill.  Maybe next time.

       However, the really important thing was that Bozo had prevented the grenade from exploding in the storeroom where it would have ignited all the other explosives and then the bunker, and everything in it, including all the hostages, would have gone up in a cloud of smoke.
        Bozo thoroughly deserved and would get a commendation for that act of selfless bravery. Well done that man.

         In the kitchen, Nizar had recovered from the shock of the explosion and frantically climbed up through the vent opening, abandoning his hostages, as his befuddled brain told him that if the Ramblers had got out into the valley through that passage which he had blocked up with rocks earlier, then so could he.
          He turned around to fire a burst of sub-machine gun fire through the open vent at the doorway which had suddenly burst open, flooding the room with light from the lobby ... and he ran down the passage into the gloom of Brokenstal chamber, firing an occasional shot back over his shoulder.

         The last thing Nizar ever saw was this demonic dark shape that rose up in front of him and a split-second blinding light in his eyes as the quiet thud of sound-suppressed 9mm calibre bullets from Butch's MP5 SD submachine gun killed him stone dead, which made it  4-0 to the good guys, 5-0 if you count Paddy.

         Tiger had been unable to tackle Nizar in the kitchen because of all the Ramblers staggering around in a shocked state, and he couldn't risk hitting any of them, but Penny told James later that she would never forget the wonderful feeling she had of seeing this SAS hero framed in the brightly lit doorway after Nizar had bolted off through the vent.

        The Ramblers were herded up, no time for niceties and were taken out of the bunker at top speed, as the clean-up squad were wanting to get in there and start taking the place apart at the earliest opportunity, like some hoard of hungry locusts.
        MI5 would be going over everything with a fine toothcomb before the dust had settled, hoping to find a gold-mine of information on that computer, about terrorist activities, and their financial sponsors, a great find like this was not an everyday occurrence, and someone would be getting a medal out of this.
         Well, it had been a text book operation, no casualties, not on our side that is, every one of the hostages rescued in one piece, no interference from the press, a quickly implemented D-notice had seen to that,  no interfering bleeding heart liberal do-gooders, who would be more concerned about the terrorist's human rights than with them being murdering bastards with no conscience, and no stupid cock-ups to prolong the agony, as one usually sees in every badly written action film on TV, yes, all in all, this was a good job, well done. 

         Sparky got an instruction to tell James and Pauline that they could come out of the cave now,  through the newly-cleared drain entrance in the valley bottom.
          Butch checked each of their dosimeters and declared them radiation free, and on their way out each of the team gave James a hearty handshake, and Pauline got a big hug, from each SAS member in turn, and she loved it.
         "See you at the celebration party," Butch said, to Pauline.
         "We're having a party?" asked Pauline.
        "Of course," said Butch, "we always have a party afterwards, especially when it's good guys 5, bad guys 0, but this time you and your friends are invited, especially the girls, hey lads?" he asked of his companions, who roared their approval.
        Pauline could feel herself getting quite flushed with anticipation, but the darkness hid her predicament.
         "I'll see you there then, Butch," she said, and followed James down the passage, thinking, 'How the hell am I going to tell James?' but James had already got a feeling that Pauline was cooling off, and being the eighteen year-old young horny male scallywag that Colleen had so rightly called him ... he was already looking elsewhere, to protect his injured pride.
        He'd get over it, our Stephanie would see to that.

       The Ramblers were herded aboard coaches and zoomed off to RAF Leeming for debriefing ... before anyone was any the wiser about what had gone on ... and, after all, the locals were used to the odd loud bang of someone out rabbit-shooting ... with a twelve-bore shotgun ... or some caver who was widening a cave entrance with the aid of Hilte Caps, a type of high velocity detonator ... which was used to knock small pieces of rock off the cave wall ... so nobody batted an eyelid ... and even the local crows in the quarry rookery took it all in their stride ... without so much as a raucous "caw" of disapproval.

       The Ramblers enjoyed every minute of their time at RAF Leeming, what with them being the adventurous types who found fun in anything new, especially the girls, who were suddenly surrounded by hundreds of virile young men, in uniform.
          The girls thought they had died and gone to heaven, and the young men thought that heaven had come to them.
          The Happy Ramblers minds had been put at rest when they found out that the people who would be worried about them, like Ernie and Janine, had been told that the Happy Ramblers were assisting the Army on some big NATO exercise, which would involved them going underground for a while, and actually, Ernie was a bit envious that he wasn't there with them.
         There was a short debriefing for the Ramblers which was to be followed up by a more thorough debriefing the following day, after the celebration party.