Remembering long lost days with Roy Edmonds

An amusing news story’s headline read, ‘Drunk man joins search for himself’. After boozing with friends, a 50-year-old Turk had wandered into woods and, unable to contact him, his wife alerted police. When he came across volunteers searching, he joined in to help, for hours – until a rescuer shouted his name and he responded, “I’m here!”
North WalesNorth Wales
North Wales

It reminded me of ‘lost’ times, though as an unruly boy. The first time I’d wandered off with a pal one summer’s day and forgotten the time. We appeared in early evening at the top of our avenue, intrigued to see my parents and neighbours combing gardens while supervised by a large policeman.

Ambling towards them, I yelled, “Is tea ready yet, Mum?” at which they turned and stared in silence. That policeman intercepted me and gave me a clip round the ear, probably also muttering, “You stupid boy!”

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Next time was on holiday in North Wales (pictured). I was angry my parents refused to buy me a jelly banana (don’t ask!), on sale at a stall we regularly passed going to the beach.

I marched off in a huff, hearing Dad tell Mum, “He’ll come back,” which made me more stubborn. Walking fast and head down, I found myself in leafy suburbs and lost.

Fortunately, I’d had to memorise our ‘digs’ address. I walked down the drive of a large residence and knocked at its door. The elderly gent who answered heard me announce, “I’m lost!” Then I recited my holiday address and he kindly escorted me to his triple garage.

Out of a choice he offered me, I picked a Humber saloon and off we drove – to soon see my parents and landlady looking for me. I also got my jelly banana next day.

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* Roy’s books are published by FeedARead.com Publishing, sponsored by the British Arts Council.

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