Timmy and the Travellers -- Chapter 24



 Author's note: First of all I need to apologise for the inordinate delay in posting this final chapter. This was entirely due to circumstances beyond my control: I was in hospital being patched up after a traffic accident. Many thanks to everyone who wrote asking what was happening -- I'll be trying to reply to each of you individually over the next few days.


Anyway... we left everyone worrying about the imminent departure of the travelling community. Let's see how things turn out in the end...


Timmy was studying hard when Owen came to find him the following morning: the first exam was now only just over a week away.

"So, how did it go?" he asked.

"Fine. It was fun -- a bit scary, but still fun."

"And he didn't do anything nasty to you?"

"No. He threatened me with stuff if I misbehave, but I think he's only playing."

"Okay, but mind you let me know if he does anything bad to you, all right?"

"Okay. I say, Timmy... is it true that you used to be his slave?"

"Oh," said Timmy, putting his book down. "I suppose I should have guessed that he'd tell you about that. Well, yes, I was -- and not just Danny's slave, either. What has he been telling you?"

"About how they used to chase you through the wood in the nude, and whip your bum if they caught you. What was that like?"

"Scary. It really hurt, being given the belt, especially when Danny did it. And it was frightening, having no clothes on with four of them chasing me and beating me -- I couldn't run away into the wood because of the brambles, and I couldn't run out of the wood because I was bare. And when they beat me it made me cry, too. I was lucky I made friends with Christy quite quickly, because after that he stuck up for me a bit and wouldn't let them go too far."

"And Danny says he made you suck it, too. Did he really?"

"Yes, loads of times. He really likes it, which is why I thought he'd be happy to have you do it. I had to do the others, too, but not so often."

"Danny says you were really good at it."

"Well... I don't know if I want people to think I'm good at sucking boys' thingies -- but he did seem to like the way I did it. I'd sooner you didn't tell anyone else about it, though."

"Don't worry, I won't. So what did you do that was so good?"

"I don't know, really. He liked it when I played with his balls and stroked all round his thingy -- and sometimes I'd stop every so often, to make it take longer. You could try that, I suppose. But otherwise you just have to ask him how he wants it done. And don't forget that if you want to stop doing it with him, you just have to come and see me. I'll sort it out for you."

"Thanks, but I think I'll keep doing it for now. I'll tell you if I change my mind, though." And Owen wandered off and left Timmy to get on with his revision.


"So, what was it like?" Tom asked Danny, the same morning -- he hadn't had a chance to ask the previous evening. "Was he any good?"

"Not bad," said Danny. "Timmy does it better, but that's just practice. I think the new kid is already almost as good as Truscott, though. With a bit of training, and maybe a whipping or two to wake his ideas up, he should be pretty expert in a couple of weeks' time."

"Do you think you've got that long to train him?"

Danny was silent. The move was looming over both of them, though Danny had a feeling that it would be harder for Tom than for himself. As Tom had told Stephen during the holidays, normally when the travellers moved on it didn't have any significant impact on them -- it just meant a change of scenery and a chance to find some new places to play. For most of them, this move would be no different: for the Byrne brothers, for example, this would just be a move like any other. Even Michael wouldn't mind too much, now that he was making progress on the romance front, since of course his girlfriend would be moving with them.

But neither Tom nor Christy really wanted to move this time, and both were dreading the announcement, which they knew was imminent. And Danny was in two minds about it, too: he'd had a lot of fun with the townies here, and if he was honest he knew he'd really miss Timmy: He liked him a lot, and he'd never been able to tease an older boy the way he had Timmy. And now that he had a new townie boy to suck his cock he was even less enthusiastic about going. He supposed that they might be able to snare some new townies at their next site, but with Michael unlikely to be interested it would be a lot harder.

"I don't know. But I'm going to try. God, Tom, I'm really going to miss this when we go -- I love getting sucked. I don't think I can stand the thought of having to go back to wanking all the time, but where am I going to find someone else to suck me?"

"Don't look at me," said Tom, hastily. "Seriously, Danny, I'm not doing that for anyone, not even my best mate. You'll have to get a girlfriend."

"Oh, come on -- what girl's going to want to go out with me? I'm not even eleven yet. I wouldn't even bother asking, `cos I know they'd just laugh in my face."

"Well, there is one other possibility," said Tom. "I wouldn't swear to this, but... I reckon if you played your cards right, you might be able to get Alan Byrne to do it for you."

"You're kidding -- aren't you? Why would you think that?"

"Well, when we went to the pool he went hard really easily -- and it was obvious that he was checking Stephen out. I just got the impression that he likes boys."

"That doesn't mean he's going to want to suck me, does it?"

"No, but it's something to threaten him with: I bet he wouldn't want everyone knowing, if it's true. And there's another thing: Bren told me that Alan wanks himself all the time. If you can catch him doing it, you'll be able to threaten to tell if he doesn't do what you want. Anyway, if he does like boys, maybe he won't mind doing it."

"Maybe not..." said Danny, thinking.

"So -- either you watch him carefully, and next time he goes to the toilet block you sneak up on him and catch him playing with himself; or you could just invite him to play cards with you, play some strip game and see what happens. If he gets hard, or wants to play again, you'll be able to suggest forfeits -- and I bet you can cheat at cards better than he can."

"I never cheat -- well, not all that often. And never against my friends."

"Yeah, right. Anyway, try it and see: if you can get him to do it, you won't miss your little townie so much."

"Okay, thanks. Look, Tom... what are you going to do when we move -- about you and Stephen, I mean?"

"I don't know. I'd like him to come with us, but obviously he won't, and I can't leave my family and stay here. I'll just have to hope we don't go too far."

"Mum and Dad were talking about it after me and Mikey went to bed last night," said Danny. "I think Dad knows where we're going -- it sounded like he's got some work lined up for everyone. But he didn't say where, or how soon we were going, and when I asked him this morning he told me I'd have to wait and see, because nothing was settled yet."

"You will let me know as soon as you find out, won't you?"

"Aah, poor little Tommikins is afraid he's going to lose his townie boyfriend!" teased Danny.

This would normally be the signal for Tom to say something sarcastic and to jump on him, but this time that didn't happen, and when Danny looked at Tom's face he saw that his friend was trying unsuccessfully not to cry.

"Fuck, Tom, you really are serious, aren't you? Shit, I'm sorry: I wouldn't have joked about it if I'd known."

Now it was Tom's turn to stare: he'd expected Danny to tear into him mercilessly if he ever found out how he really felt about Stephen. Instead, Danny looked really worried.

"I really, really like him," said Tom, letting himself go and starting to cry properly. "I don't want to go, Danny..."

Danny put his arms round his friend and held him, and it was a measure of how sympathetic he was that he wouldn't even have cared if someone had come round the tower and seen them hugging each other.

"I'll try really hard to find out when we're going and how far away it is," promised Danny.

"Thanks," said Tom, trying to pull himself together.

"That's what friends are for. Oh, by the way: if Alan does turn out to be interested, I expect you'd like to help me keep him under control, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, please!" And Tom managed to smile again.


That evening Danny had another entertaining session with Owen, teaching him a bit more about how to suck and spanking the boy lightly at the end of the evening, "Just so you don't forget who's in charge," as he put it. Owen didn't seem to mind too much, promptly asking when he should come again, and they fixed their next session up for the following Monday.

Alan had been off working with his father and brother for most of the week, and Danny hadn't been able to get hold of him. But on Friday afternoon he found him wandering around on his own: the family had been to the pool a little earlier and now Brendan was making the most of his state of extreme cleanliness to go round to Annie's caravan. Alan, of course, had nothing similar to distract him, so when Danny approached him and said hello, he was quite happy to see him. For a moment he wondered if Tom had told his friend what had happened at the pool, but then he decided that if he had done that, Danny would have been round to taunt him about it long before now.

"What are you doing?" asked Danny.


"Me neither. Fancy a game of cards?"

"Okay, then."

He followed Danny round the side of the water tower. "Are we playing for money?" he asked.

"It'll be a short game if we do," said Danny. "It's alright for you -- I bet you just got paid. I won't get my pocket money until Sunday, and right now I've got..." He ferreted in his pocket. "...exactly four pence."

"That won't get you far," agreed Alan. "Shall we just play for fun, then?"

"That's a bit boring. I dare you: let's play strip."

"I'm not playing strip," said Alan, straight away, and Danny thought he'd have to try something else. But then Alan went on, "at least, not here. Anyone might come and see us."

"Where, then?" said Danny -- even at this late stage he was reluctant to share the knowledge of the garage with someone else if he didn't have to.

"Come with me," said Alan, getting up and heading for the wood. "I did some exploring, and I found a place..."

He led Danny over the fence and into the wood, and in due course he reached a large rhododendron bush -- the same one, in fact, that Christy had shared with Timmy once before during a round of the hunting game.

"I found this a couple of weeks ago," Alan told him. "It's perfect, because you can get right into the middle of it, and nobody can see you from outside."

He led Danny into the middle of the bush. Alan had cut a few more branches back in the middle of the bush to give them a bit of room. Danny thought that it was nothing like as good as the garage, but it wasn't bad as a hideaway. The ground was dry -- it had not rained for a few days -- so they were able to sit down to play.

Danny got the cards out and gave them to Alan to shuffle, and then they started playing standard draw poker, taking three changes each. As Tom had suggested, Danny wasn't averse to a little cheating if the situation called for it, but it seemed quite unnecessary here: after five hands he had lost once and Alan had lost four times, which already had him on his last item, assuming (as Danny did) that he wasn't wearing pants.

Danny lost once more, removing his second shoe, and then Alan lost again. He stood up, undoing his trousers, but then hesitated.

"Promise you'll give me another game, so I can try to get revenge," he said.

"Yes, OK," said Danny.

Alan undid his trousers and stepped out of them, revealing that he was very stiff.

"Oh, dear, Alan, how embarrassing," said Danny. "Come here and let me see it properly."

Alan stepped closer without hesitation. The fact that he didn't point out that Danny had no right to look, and that the game was now over, reinforced Danny's conviction that Tom had been right about Alan.

Danny took hold of the hard penis and tugged, and Alan uttered a little gasp and allowed himself to be pulled to his knees. Danny played with it for a bit, slapping it around lightly and tugging at the little curls of hair.

"It's not very big, is it?" he commented. "I reckon Mikey's is bigger, and he's quite a bit younger than you. In fact, I don't think you're that much bigger than me."

"Let's see," said Alan, straight away.

"Oh, no. Not unless you win the next game, anyway. And if you lose I'll have to punish you."


"Don't know yet. I'll have to think of some bad forfeits -- and the more times you lose, the worse they'll get. So, are you going to chicken out?"

"Of course not. I'm going to win the next five games and make you do the dirtiest forfeits I can think of."

"You can try. Oh, and by the way, you're not allowed to get dressed until we finish playing. I own all your clothes now, remember? You'll have to play in the nude. We'll just keep count of how many times you lose, and when you've lost five times you've lost the game, again."

Alan didn't object to that, either, and now Danny knew he had him where he wanted him. He dealt again, and Alan sat down cross-legged and looked at his cards.

"Move your hand a bit," said Danny. "You're not allowed to use your cards to hide your little wee-wee."

Obediently Alan moved his cards to one side, revealing his still-twitching erection, and also (though he didn't seem to realise this) revealing his cards. This made Danny's strategy much easier, and once again he won five-one. Alan didn't seem too dismayed.

"That's one," said Danny, shuffling once more. "Once one of us has got five forfeits lined up, the game stops, okay? So you've got four more tries to make me undress."

Danny won the next two games, but then Alan rallied, aided by some very lucky draws, and won the next game.

"Go on, then," he demanded, his eyes shining, "let's see it."

By now Danny was stiff too, so it looked quite impressive (for a boy still a couple of weeks short of his eleventh birthday) when it emerged into the light.

"Let me look," demanded Alan. "You were allowed to look at mine."

Danny stood in front of him, and Alan took hold of it and stroked it gently, making it twitch.

"It's nice," he said. "And you're quite big for your age, too."

"Unlike you," said Danny, sitting down once more. "Okay, let's see if you're going to get any forfeits against me."

He was interested to see what Alan would make him do, so he deliberately lost the next game, but then won the next two to wrap things up.

"Okay," he said, putting the cards away. "I've got one forfeit, you've got five. I'll do mine first. What do I have to do?"

For the first time Alan seemed a little nervous.

"You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" he asked.

"What do you think?" asked Danny, carefully ducking the question.

"Well... for your forfeit, you have to give me a wank," said Alan.

"Is that all? OK, then, in a minute. But you're not getting off as easily as that. I mean, your punishment should be five times worse than mine -- more than five times, in fact, because you're older than me. I can't really think of anything bad enough at the moment -- so let's say that for the next five weeks you have to do whatever I tell you, no matter how bad the things are."

"That's not fair!" protested Alan. "That could be hundreds of forfeits, not just five."

"True. OK, then: for the next five times we play together you have to do what I tell you. And after that you have to agree to play cards again to see if I go on being in charge, or if you can get me back for the next five times."

"OK," agreed Alan, his cock twitching, and Danny knew he was hooked. And now he was less worried about the move: he reckoned he could keep Alan dancing to his tune indefinitely if he handled it properly.

Danny came and stood behind him, taking hold of the erection and rubbing it slowly, and soon Alan was making little groaning noises and writhing about, and then he reached behind himself and started playing with Danny's. Danny smiled to himself and gave him the wank of his life, drawing it out for the best part of half an hour, until Alan was desperate. Finally Danny let him come, and this time the amount that came out was rather more than Alan had managed at the pool, though still hardly enough to over-impress Danny.

"Now you can just stand there and drip until I'm dressed," he said, wanting to stamp his dominance on the older boy, and Alan obediently did just that, until Danny told him he could put his clothes back on.

They headed back to the camp with Danny feeling thoroughly satisfied, even though he hadn't had an orgasm himself: he was certain now that he could count on Alan to make him feel good in every conceivable way from now on. Problem solved, he thought as they separated on reaching the site. And he went off to tell Tom all about it.


Two days before the first exam Timmy walked up to the bus stop in the usual way at four o'clock and found Christy sitting on the bank waiting for him. One look at his face was all it took.

"It's happened, hasn't it?" he said. "So... when are you going?"

"Can I come home with you?" asked Christy. "I'd sooner talk about it somewhere quiet."

"Okay. But... can't you just tell me now?"

"When we get home."

So they waited for the bus in silence and rode to Timmy's house without saying anything, though Timmy leant his head on Christy's shoulder, and Christy put his arm around him, just as they had done on their first bus journey together. On that occasion Timmy had just been more or less raped by Michael, but he wasn't feeling any better this time: this was going to be Basingstoke all over again, he thought, and he didn't think he could handle it.

They got off the bus and walked round to Timmy's house, and it was Christy who led them up to Timmy's room -- though he did pause to say `hello' to Angus on the way past, and that simple moment was enough to start Timmy crying.

Christy got undressed and then got into bed, and Timmy mechanically removed his own clothes and got in with him, rolling into his arms.

"When?" he asked again.

"At the end of next week."

"And... how far?"

"I'm not sure, but I'd guess between ten and fifteen miles."

"Is that all?" asked Timmy, raising his head and looking into Christy's eyes for the first time. "Then... maybe we'll still be able to see each other sometimes -- at least until you move again. And it's bound to be further next time..."

The moment of hope died almost at birth: at best he'd got a stay of execution for three or four months.

"I don't think we'll be moving on again for quite a long time," said Christy. "Look, I'll start at the beginning. Apparently they've just started building a massive motorway that's going to go all the way round London -- it's going to take years to finish it. And one of the companies building it is Irish, and they need loads of workers -- and Mikey's dad went to see them, and basically they'll take all the men on our site, because they've all got some sort of useful experience. So there's going to be a bit more money coming in for a while. Of course, Dad says it's going to be hard not to pay taxes on it, what with it being a proper job...

"Anyway, we're going to be moving to a proper fixed site. We went to see it yesterday, and it's brilliant: there's electricity, and a proper shower block with hot water, and decent toilets, and everything."

"So you're going to settle down and live in one place, like townies?" asked Timmy.

"Well, no. We'll still be moving about -- after all, the motorway's going all round London. They're not building it in one go, but in little bits and pieces all round London, and eventually it'll all fit together. So it means that the men will want to move north of London if they're working on that side. But Dad says if that happens they'll find another proper site for us. And we won't move very often, at least while they're working on the motorway -- and by the time it's finished I'll be working myself.

"And that's the bad news as far as us kids are concerned: because this is proper work, only the men will be able to do it, so we'll all have to go to school. I've already seen the school I'll probably be going to -- it doesn't look too bad, to be honest."

"So... we'll still be able to see each other sometimes?" repeated Timmy, for whom this was the only bit that mattered.

"Sure. OK, it's a bit far, but there's a bus that goes from near the new site all the way into Poundford Spa, and then of course there's your usual bus that goes from Poundford Spa out here -- so two bus rides and I'll be here. It takes about an hour and a quarter, I think, but that won't matter at weekends. And the best bit is this: if you pass your exam you'll probably be going to Poundford School, won't you?"

"Well, yes, I expect so. I've already told Mum and Dad I don't want to go to boarding school, and Poundford School is about the only Public School I could go to as a day boy -- so if I pass, I'll probably go there. Why?"

"Because our new site is only a couple of miles north of Poundford -- and, better yet, the school I'm probably going to is less than half a mile from Poundford School -- I checked yesterday. So we'd be able to see each other after school every day if we wanted to."

"What do you mean, `If we wanted to'? cried Timmy, in delight. "Of course we'll want to -- well, I will, anyway. Won't you?"

Christy hugged him and gave him a quick kiss. "Obviously," he said. "Though I'm not sure what your new public school friends would say about you hanging about with a scruffy gippo from the local Secondary Modern."

"Who cares what they think?" Timmy returned the kiss. "God, Christy, I've been so scared of losing you...Now I really am going to have to pass the exam: if I mess it up I might end up anywhere -- well, probably anywhere except Poundford, and that's all that matters." He paused for a moment, and then went on, "Why didn't you call and tell me last night?"

"Because I wanted to tell you properly -- and I thought maybe you might want to celebrate, and we couldn't do that down the telephone, could we?"

"I suppose not. But it would have given me one less day of worrying."

"Well, you can stop worrying now," said Christy. "And I thought maybe on Saturday we could take the bus up to Poundford, and then I'll be able to show you where everything is. Do you think your parents will let you come?"

"Probably, as long as I work hard on Sunday. Of course, if we're going out together on Saturday, wouldn't it be easier if you came and stayed here on Friday night?"

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing," said Christy, grinning at him. "Now, what were we saying about celebrating?"

"Stay there," said Timmy, getting out of bed. "I'll just nip to the bathroom and fetch the Vaseline..."


Tom, meanwhile, was giving the same good news to Stephen, though their celebrations had to be a little more restrained because Stephen's mother and sister were in the house: they had to be content with a fully-dressed hug, at the end of which Tom surprised Stephen by kissing him for the first time.

"We're sort of family," explained Tom. "You're allowed to kiss your family."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're allowed to kiss me whether you're family or not."

"Nah, boys don't kiss other boys: that would be queer. But it's not queer if it's family -- so we're family, okay?"

"Fine by me," said Stephen.


By the end of the week Christy had got together with Tom and told him about their proposed trip, asking if he and Stephen would like to come too. Tom thought this was an excellent idea, so on the Saturday morning he and Stephen were waiting at the bus stop opposite the site for the bus Christy and Timmy would be on. They travelled together into Poundford Spa, where they changed onto the bus that went up to Poundford and then out the other side to the travellers' new site.

The bus went right past Poundford School, and a couple of stops later Christy pointed and said, "My school's just down there. I expect you'll be coming there too, Tom, because you'll be eleven by the time the autumn term starts, and they probably won't make us go to school until then."

The bus rolled on out of town into the countryside, and five minutes after that Christy stood up and rang the bell. They walked a short distance down a lane and then came to a caravan site. Christy took them a little way inside the gates.

"We won't go any further -- after all, we don't live here yet, so the people here won't know us," he said. "But you can see what it's like."

They could: there were a number of large, permanently stationed mobile homes, and also several concrete stands which could be used by towed caravans. Most of the mobile homes had patches of properly-tended lawn outside, and some had flower beds. Christy pointed out the showers and the toilet block, and then they retreated before the local dogs could come to investigate them.

"Of course, we'll still be living in our caravans, though Dad says we could probably afford to get one of those bigger places in a year or so if we want," said Christy as they walked back to the bus stop. "But if we keep what we've got now we'll be able to go back to living like we do now once the motorway's finished."

"How long is that going to take?" asked Stephen.

Christy shrugged. "Years," he said. "I might even own my own van by then. You'll be able to come and spend all your holidays with me, Timmy: it'd just be us two. We could go where we want and do anything we feel like..."

"Sounds like you're going to have to get your own caravan too, then, Tom," commented Stephen. "Then we can do the same thing -- obviously it sounds as if Christy won't be inviting you and me to go along with him and Timmy..."

"I wonder why not?" said Tom, grinning. "Do you think they get up to anything they shouldn't when they're on their own, Stephen?"

"It wouldn't surprise me at all," Stephen answered. Christy and Timmy just ignored them.


The exams were well under way by the time the travellers moved on, but the traveller boys had persuaded their parents not to actually leave the site until four o'clock, by which time the schoolboys would be free to came and wave them off. Timmy, Stephen, Colin and Owen met at the west gate of the school, and rather to their surprise Graham Truscott said he wanted to come with them, and so he walked round to the site with the others.

The caravans were already hitched to the lorries and vans ready to go and the travellers were doing some last minute tidying up -- "After all," Tom's dad told them, "you never know when we might want to come back here, so it doesn't hurt to keep the council happy by sticking everything in the skip for them."

The four traveller boys they knew came to meet them, though it was noticeable that Alan Byrne was trailing along behind Danny.

"Okay, Alan, go and put this in my dad's van, would you?" said Danny, handing him his bag.

"Can I say goodbye to Stephen first?" asked Alan.

"OK," said Danny. "Go ahead."

The schoolboys looked at each other, grinning: they all had a pretty good idea of what was going on here. Alan shook Stephens's hand and said goodbye.

"Goodbye," Stephen replied. "And good luck!" And he looked meaningfully at Danny. Alan blushed and ran off, carrying Danny's bag.

"Is he my replacement, then?" asked Owen.

"Well, he's not as good as either you or Tiny, but he'll learn -- unless he wants to get whipped every day, that is."

"I'm going to miss you," Owen told him.

"Me, too," said Danny, a bit more seriously. "You were fun. You'll have to come and visit me at the new place sometime. That goes for the rest of you, too -- I mean, obviously I'll see plenty of Stephen and Timmy, but if you others want to come and visit, it'd be good. Tiny, I'm really going to miss you: I've had more fun with you than with anyone ever, I think. Well, so far: maybe Alan's going to be as funny before too long. Well, I gotta go..."

He shook their hands and trotted off. Michael shook their hands, too. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at Timmy and said, "Timmy... look, I... I want to say sorry for... well, you know. I was really horrible to you when we first met. I just got carried away with being able to hurt a townie, and I never stopped to think about what it felt like to you. I shouldn't have done any of that stuff to you. Sorry."

"Okay. I suppose I wouldn't have got to be friends with Christy if you hadn't, so I suppose it worked out well in the end. But... please promise you won't be like that with anyone you meet in future, okay?"

"I promise. Anyway, I'm going to try what you said about seeing people as individuals when I get to my new school," Michael told Stephen. "But if it doesn't work I'll beat you up next time I see you."

"Right," said Stephen, grinning at him. "Seriously, though, I hope it all works out for you."

Colin thought this would be a good time to make an exit, so he said goodbye to Christy and Tom, and then he and Graham wandered off together. The remaining four boys went round the back of the water tower, out of everyone else's sight, and looked at each other for a moment, and then Christy opened his arms and Timmy ran to hug him, and after a second or so Stephen and Tom did the same thing, and after that each couple was oblivious to the other as they hugged and kissed. Only when there was a shout from where the lorries were waiting did they let go of each other.

"The first weekend after the exams finish we're coming to see you," Timmy promised. "And... I've asked my parents if you can come on holiday with us in the summer, and they said yes. We're only going to Cornwall, but it'll be better than having nothing to do right through the holidays, won't it?"

"That's a brilliant idea," said Stephen to Tom. "I'll ask my parents the same thing when I get home. Of course, I'm not sure we'll be able to afford to go anywhere this year, but if not you and me can go camping somewhere instead, couldn't we?"

"Brilliant idea!" said Tom. "In fact I'd like to do that even if you do take me on holiday too."

"Okay. Hey, Timmy, maybe you and Christy could come camping, too. But you'd have to bring a separate tent -- we're going to want some privacy once it's time for bed..."

The voice shouted again, a bit louder, so they headed back to where everyone was waiting for them. Christy and Tom got into their respective vehicles and the convoy moved off, while Stephen and Timmy stood and waved goodbye.

"I don't know how I'd have coped if they'd been going further away," said Stephen, as the last vehicle vanished round the corner.

"Me neither. Now all we've got to worry about is passing the exam so we can go to Poundford in September. How do you think you're doing so far?"

"Not bad. I even think I did OK on the geometry questions..."

And they walked away from the site together, discussing what promised to be a happy future.


Note: the construction of the M25 motorway around London took around ten years to complete: by the time it was finished Christy and Mike would have joined their fathers in the construction business in time to gain useful experience for future employment. The work would, as Christy told Timmy, have kept their community in the area for several years, and I can see no reason to think that their friendship would not have lasted throughout that time and, indeed, beyond.

This would seem to be a good time to thank everyone who has written to me while I have been posting this story, particularly those who have written several times -- your comments have all been most welcome. Particular thanks are due to Paul S, who persuaded me to post this in the first place.

I was intending to take a break from writing once I had posted this final chapter, but obviously I've already had a fairly long break, so maybe I should think about starting another story. A couple of chapters back I said I was thinking of writing about the boys who play football with Sim and Uzzy, with particular reference to Jeremy, he of the racist step-father, and so -- if there is enough interest out there -- I might do that. Please write and let me know what you think: the address is, as ever, gothmog@nyms.net and I look forward to hearing from you (even if you write in to say that you don't want me to write anything else!!) I'd also like to hear what you thought about "Timmy" -- your feedback will help me to identify what I'm doing that works and what needs improvement.

Copyright 2007 -- all rights reserved. Please do not copy or post any or all of this without my written permission.

David Clarke