Random reminder

Press, 13 June 1979, Page 26

Random reminder

NIGHT EXPERIENCE

When some of us were very young,, we were often reminded that even in Genesis, apples were forbidden fruit. These lessons were largely ignored, especially by those living near a large 1 unused section in Dallington. A i burned-out house stood on it. The property, it was alleged, was haunted. ’ But before dark, some adventurous 1 lads were often there, thrusting aside i any problems of the supernatural, because they had started the story i themselves. 1 So for a few glorious summers they ; gorged on greengages, plums, pears : and apples and nobody complained. 1 Any uneaten fruit was smuggled to I school and swapped for marbles, < sweets, nails, screws, putty or whatever. In those days the flavour I was in no way ruined by the male I deodorants now used to attract the i opposite sex. At that time the themes were food, footie and fighting. ; One moonlight night three 11-year- 1 olds crept into the section, taking i their bearings from the concrete i foundations and the drunkenly sagging i chimney. Although the word had not then been invented, they had cased the ; joint. The most agile lad was hoisted i

,into the upper branches and he kept up a brisk barrage of apples which his fellow felons gathered. They were not aware that they had been shadowed by two older boys who chose their moment, then advanced as noisily as possible, shouting vigorously, and trying to imitate the barking voice of a well-known, cantankerous neighbour. The two at the base of the tree took off. The tree-tied temporary Tarzan decided it was time to make his getaway too. He jumped off on to some branches, hoping they would break his fall. But the sharp snapping sound shattered the silence and the older lads decided that if they did not believe in ghosts, really, this was no time for psychic research. So off at high speed, went these embryonic members of the Mafia. Thus the stage was cleared, save for one small boy, who was wondering how he could stuff the equivalent of a sugar bag of apples into his pockets and shirt. As a bald-headed man ruefully remarked when at the shaving mirror, the world’s biggest problem is not production, but distribution.