‘They woke to sounds of laughter from the bunk rooms; doors slamming and voices outside.

Zeno stretched out on top of the bed, rolled over and protested, ‘Hell, what’s the time? The sun’s barely risen.’

‘Come on handsome, get your fat arse outside and help me bathe and feed the hordes.’

‘Morning men,’ Jarek’s deep voice made the ten self-consciously naked youths fooling around on the verandah jump and grin. Faces alert and ready for adventure, they were obviously relieved to see they hadn’t made a sartorial mistake.

‘Race you to the water!’

Leon surprised everyone by sprinting into the lead. He, Sasha and Melvin were already swinging from the rope and laughing at a joke when Arthur arrived with Zeno, who wanted to make sure the fat kid didn’t feel left out.

The swim was refreshing and by the time they’d jogged back, made themselves breakfast from assorted fruit, cereal, bread, eggs and tea, they were dry. Melvin and Sasha came and sat beside Jarek, nudged each other, checked no one was looking then confided that they’d tried it that night but nothing happened. They kept thinking about their girlfriends. Having unburdened himself, Sasha joined a group at the other end of the table.

‘So I’m not gay,’ Melvin said with what sounded like a touch of regret.

‘Be happy, you’ve far more choice now.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Heterosexuals outnumber gays ten to one, so you’ve ten times as many partners to choose from.’

Melvin looked unconvinced. ‘Sasha’s a bit young for me. Perhaps I prefer older men. If it had been you, for example…’

‘Away with you, wicked lad, trying to lead an innocent old man astray!’

They both laughed and Melvin joined the others, clearly proud of his bravado.

When the kitchen was locked away from marauders, each boy was given a small back pack containing a water bottle, a packet of biscuits, a map and compass, a pocket knife, a whistle and a compact first-aid kit containing a needle, small pair of scissors, tweezers, two bandages and half a dozen sticking plasters.

After telling the boys to get into different pairs from the day before, they spread their maps and Jarek explained the route. Across the river, follow a branching valley up to a ridge, follow that to a lookout point, down to another valley then along that to an escarpment, on top of which was perched the fire-watch tower. Behind that was the Ranger’s house. Jarek explained that the ranger and his wife were friends and he sometimes stayed there and gave Mr. Forté a hand on weekends.

‘As we’ll be in the forest most of the time there’s no danger of sunburn, so wear what you like, the only compulsory article being good strong sandals or trainers. However, I want you to put a pair of shorts in your pack to put on just before we get to the Ranger’s place, not because Mr. Forté and his wife would be shocked, far from it, but because Mrs. Forté would certainly tell all her friends that she’d been visited by ten naked young men, and that would lead to scandals and the shut down of the camp.’

‘But if you ask her not to?’

‘You can’t ask a woman not to gossip, that would be like asking her not to breathe.’

‘My mother spreads rumours about everyone,’ Joseph said sourly. ‘Dad wishes they’d bring back the gossip’s bridle.’

‘My grandfather often sings a song that that goes like this,’ Zeno laughed. ‘Don’t telephone, don’t telegraph, just tell-a-woman and the news will get around.’

Everyone laughed.

‘It’s a good lesson to remember,’ Jarek said seriously. ‘You gain nothing by telling other people more than they need to know about yourself and your affairs, because too often that information will later be used against you in an argument—or worse. A sensible man learns to guard his secrets and share them only with someone he would trust with his life.’

‘Do you mean his wife?’

‘No. I mean a male friend. Men save people’s lives, women expect to be saved.’

They pondered this for a few seconds while Jarek and Zeno conferred.

‘Zeno agrees that you guys should guide us using map and compass, starting with Arthur and Anton. Guides will change every half hour. I’ll be in front with them, and Zeno will bring up the rear. However, I suggest you don’t trust the leader blindly. Check for yourselves that we’re on the right course. Two more things. I’d like everyone to be silent while we’re walking, and only whisper when we stop. If we make a noise then we’ll see and hear nothing except the obvious, because every living thing will get out of our way and hide and you might as well be walking in town. The last thing is, don’t walk over the same ground as anyone else because the forest is fragile and if twenty-four feet pound the same spot that will make a track that lasts for months, and our enemies, if we had any, would be able to follow us. Spread out across about twenty metres, walk softly, duck under spider webs, don’t wander across ant hills or sit on termite mounds, lift your feet, don’t stumble, and do as little damage as possible. A true woodsman keeps his eyes open, sees everything, misses nothing, and leaves no trace of his passing.’

As Jarek hoped, the restrictions placed on the adventurers only increased their excitement.

Silently they set off across the stream and into the depths of the National Park, fanning out, but keeping in sight of each other, carefully avoiding trampling and disturbing. Each youth feeling as if they were alone with the termites, bandicoots, echidnas, monitors and snakes. Tension was high and it was with silent sighs of relief they emerged from the trees after a fairly steep climb onto a sun-warmed flat rock with a view down the valley. Birds soared, butterflies fluttered on shrubs, skinks scuttled and they warmed their bums in silence. They were the only humans alive and the bonds between them and the other men strengthened.

Rainforest remnants in the valleys were more difficult to traverse than open sclerophyll, as well as cooler and slightly intimidating. Despite the lianes, bush lawyer, and occasional dense thickets they maintained their separate trajectories, determined not to be the one who transgressed the rules of good bushcraft. When they stopped at a small waterhole, Melvin noticed a slug-like thing about three centimetres long hanging off Sasha’s buttock.

‘Don’t pull it off, Sasha,’ Jarek ordered. ‘It’s a leech. As it’s only half way through filling itself with your blood it’s so firmly attached that if you pull it off you’ll take a patch of skin with it, and the wound could get infected. You can either leave it to fill up, when it will drop off, or take out your scissors and get your partner to cut it just below the head.’ They watched in horror as Simon snipped, blood gushed down Sasha’s leg and the shrunken body sac stuck to the scissors. After a few seconds, the head let go and dropped off.

‘Why didn’t I feel it?’ Sasha asked.

‘It injects an anaesthetic and anticoagulant, that’s why it’ll bleed for a bit before clotting. Don’t worry, you can afford the blood. Everyone, check your partners.’

Seven more leeches were found, mainly on the lower legs, cut in half by their partners using scissors.

‘Pick the long bit up and try to tear it,’ Jarek instructed.

Everyone tried pulling, twisting, ripping but failed to do any damage to the extraordinarily tough body. ‘If you do pull a leech off,’ Jarek told them, ‘it’s best to kill it unless you want it to latch onto you again on your return. They sit on grasses waiting for a warm-blooded creature to pass by. If I’ve no scissors I tear it off and put it on a hard stone then grind it to pieces with another one. I must say I admire you guys for not making a fuss. Most people go berserk the first time they find a leech on them.’

Despite the excitement they had kept their voices low, and as they set off again any desire to chatter was again replaced by awe and a sense of anticipation. Like thieves padding silently through someone’s magnificent house, they stole glimpses of orchids, butterflies, sunbeams, a slithering snake, and golden spider webs as tough as cotton thread. Mostly it was easy walking as they mounted a ridge and then slithered down, grasping handholds of roots and grasses. Only the escarpment below the Ranger’s house posed a problem.

Three metres of vertical rock seemed insurmountable until Leon removed his sandals, stowed them in his backpack, and with fingers and toes inserted in tiny crevices, clambered up the rock face and hauled himself over. Jarek followed by squeezing himself into a narrow cleft, then pressing hands and feet against the sides while hoisting himself little by little to the top. As this was beyond the abilities of the others Zeno found solid footing at the highest point at the base of the cliff, then allowed the others to climb on his shoulders from where they reached up to Jarek who was lying on his front, reaching down. He gripped each lad’s hand and with no apparent effort hoisted them over the top.

‘What about Zeno?’ Simon whispered.

‘We’ll pick him up on the way back,’ Jarek replied, as Zeno appeared over the top, having followed Jarek’s path. They dusted each other down to remove sticks, leaves and other detritus, put on whatever clothes they’d brought, and three hours and ten minutes after leaving the cabin presented themselves at the Forté’s door. It was eleven-thirty.

Mr. Forté was tall, obviously strong, barrel-shaped in dark green shorts and shirt, standing firm on powerful, shapeless, slightly bandy, hairy brown legs. He extended a giant paw that looked as if it could crush rocks, stretched thin lips into a somewhat crooked but kindly smile, and shook everyone’s hand. His lean and harassed-looking wife appeared from the house carrying a tray containing two large jugs and a dozen plastic tumblers. She also smiled warmly, welcomed everyone and told them to help themselves to fruit juice.

Lunch would be at twelve-thirty so they had an hour to climb the tower, take in the view, and learn as much as they could about the reclusive life of a ranger.

The lookout tower had been built eighty years before. Although in excellent condition it was no longer used by human observers. They’d been replaced by electronic gadgetry that could ‘see’ smoke and use GPS and satellite technology to not only automatically inform the fire fighters, but also estimate the severity of the fire. It was a stable structure, however what seemed merely high from the ground quickly became stomach-churningly lofty the higher they climbed. Steps narrowed and became steeper. A narrow slatted walkway surrounded the more slender, topmost tower on which the electronic sensors were positioned, and that was where all except Jarek, Melvin, Arthur, Sasha and Leon decided they’d climbed high enough.

At the very top the light breeze had become a wind, causing the structure to sway slightly. But the giddying view was worth it and the five brave climbers descended on a high to the silent admiration and slight jealousy of the rest. Arthur was careful not to brag and his stocks rose accordingly.

After prolific thanks for their welcome, information, and especially the lunch of cold pork, chicken, and salad, followed by pavlova and peaches with lashings of whipped cream, the intrepid band of woodsmen set off to follow a slightly different and longer route back to the cabin. They arrived exhausted, hungry and thirsty, having finished their biscuits and water well before they fell into the swimming hole to relax and wash off the dust and leaves and sweat. Preparing their evening meal would have to wait.

Later, leaning against the walls of the Recreation Room they recalled their day’s adventure. Already it seemed more like a dream than reality. Everyone agreed that maintaining silence and having to use the maps and compasses themselves had been highlights. All felt proud, but quietly so. They knew they’d acquitted themselves well and had no need to show off.

In a cupboard of the kitchen Zeno had discovered a pack of cards and a box of board games; chess, ludo, scrabble, snakes and ladders. So while he was studying and writing assignments in his room, everyone else laughed and argued and tossed dice and had more fun than expected playing the social games that, thanks to TV and solo computer games have all but disappeared.

Jarek telephoned Stephen as usual to report on the day’s events, and was delighted to confirm that everything was going even better than they had hoped.

It rained quite hard during the night, topping up the drinking water tanks. Although the morning air was slightly cool, and water droplets sparkled on leaves and a myriad of spider webs, nothing could prevent the early morning skinny-dip. By the time breakfast was underway the temperature was back in the high twenties and rising.

‘Who’s too tired to go on another hike?’

No hands raised.

‘Good. Today’s jaunt will take us up stream to a spectacular waterfall—at least in the wet season it’s spectacular, at the moment it’s probably not much more than a trickle. It’s a popular spot so there’s a car park only a kilometre away. Sealed walking tracks lead to a lookout and the falls, and there’s a loop to rock pools at the bottom of the waterfall. Several thousand people visit the site every year, so if the tracks weren’t provided and maintained by National Parks there’d be irreparable erosion. Do you want to hike along the tracks and meet with other walkers, or would you sooner plan alternative routes to avoid them?’

‘No tracks!’

‘We don’t want to meet other people!’

‘This is our forest!’

‘We’ll find our own way there.’

‘OK. Get your maps, I’ll show you the spots I think you’d like to visit and we’ll plan the route.’

After a lengthy discussion they pencilled in a route that required wading through a semi swamp, traversing two steep ridges, then following a stony creek bed up a valley to the pool beneath the waterfall. After that they’d ascend a rock face nearly as steep as yesterday’s escarpment, to reach the top of the waterfall, and then climb another hundred metres to the lookout platform. Their route would cross three tourist tracks and run parallel to another for about a hundred metres.

After replenishing their backpacks and filling up all empty spaces with sandwiches in place of lunch as they’d be away for most of the day, they chose new partners and prepared to depart.

‘Are you sure we won’t meet other people?’ Melvin asked with a sly grin.

‘That depends on you. If you’re silent, listen for their approach and remain still when they pass by, you’ll be invisible. No dogs are allowed in the parks so they won’t smell us out.’

‘Good, because I know how to make it really exciting,’ Melvin said with a challenging glint in his eye.

‘How?’

‘Leave all our clothes behind so we have no choice but to be super careful.’

Jarek and Zeno weren’t convinced it was sensible, but were overruled by ten excited young men determined to prove their invisibility and tracking skills.

With Joseph and Henry in the lead, the courageous little band set off into the forest.

Every half hour as the pairs changed leadership, Jarek could scarcely conceal his astonishment at their ability to already read maps, understand contours, take compass readings and maintain a reasonably true course, allowing for unforeseen obstacles.

Again they fanned out to leave no lasting tracks; anyone following would only see what looked like traces of a family of kangaroos.

They'd been hiking for about an hour when Robert, who was leading, raised his arm. About thirty metres away across a grassy clearing was a large grey male kangaroo at least two metres tall and alarmingly powerful. His female, about the same size and colour as Jarek, with her youngest joey’s legs sticking out of her distended pouch, was sitting on her haunches beside him. Directly behind them grazed an older joey about the size of Robert. Everyone stood stock still. The kangaroos’ ears twitched as they straightened up and stared directly at the invaders.

‘Stand absolutely still,’ Jarek whispered. They won’t attack, but we don’t want to frighten them. To be polite and prove you’re not aggressive, look away—it’s as rude to stare in the natural world as it is in the city.’

From the corners of their eyes they could see that the kangaroos also turned their heads away as if unconcerned, but their twitching ears and sensitive noses were as good as eyes.

‘You can look now,’ Jarek whispered.

The family, having decided the visitors were no immediate threat lowered their heads and nibbled a few blades of grass to demonstrate their right to be there, then hopped gracefully off into the trees where they immediately disappeared.

‘Stay still and turn your heads slowly. Can you see them?’

‘No.’

‘That’s because they’re totally still. They’re there all right, but they’re not looking at you, and their colour blends. Time for a demonstration I think.’

Five boys turned their backs while Zeno and the other five walked twenty metres into the sparse, dry sclerophyll forest and disguised their outline by standing or crouching with legs slightly apart, arms bent, grasping a branch. With only a few twigs, clumps of grass and brushwood between them and their audience they felt totally exposed as they lowered and turned their heads sideways, slitting their eyes until they could just see the others.

‘OK,’ Jarek ordered when he was satisfied. ‘The observers may turn round. Can you see them?’

They stared but saw nothing; the play of sunlight and shadow on both flesh and vegetation confused outlines and everything blended into nature.

Jarek clapped softly and the concealed boys moved, lifted their heads and looked at him. Instantly, all were seen.

‘What gave them away?’ Jarek asked.

‘Movement.’

‘Their eyes. When they turned their faces towards us I could see it was a head.’

‘Exactly. Humans are very clever at noticing heads. Any oval shape with a pair of dark dots is instantly seen and recognised. To be invisible, simply place your limbs in unusual positions, remain utterly still and keep your head turned away a little with your eyes almost closed. You’ll be able to see sideways, but the shape of your face is altered and there’ll be no reflections from your eyes. You mustn’t close them completely though, because you’ll become nervous, won’t know if it’s safe to move, and if you’re not aware of what’s happening you won’t be able to escape if they happen to notice you.’

The experiment was repeated for the others with the same results, and everyone felt less apprehensive about concealing themselves from wandering tourists as they approached popular spots.

‘Fuck I’ve an itch!’ Joseph whispered, showing a red spot on his arm with a tiny black speck in the centre.

‘Try not to scratch, it’s a tick; a present from the kangaroos most likely, although bandicoots and echidnas, birds and other animals also have them. They're small at this time of the year so you can’t dig them out, and anyway, like leeches it’s always best to let them release their hold and fall off in their own time.’ Jarek took a tiny plastic flask of kerosene from his pack and applied a drop to the spot. ‘That will kill the tick in seconds and after a while it’ll fall off. The redness will go away and the itching will stop for today. Then tomorrow it’ll start up again for a while as the infection ticks carry has go at you. After that you’ll be fine. Remember, scratching doesn’t help.’

Five leeches were assassinated during the traverse of the swamp, and a dozen more ticks were dowsed in kerosene before they reached the top of the first ridge, which they ascended without difficulty. A clump of invading lantana gave them scratches as they crossed the valley to a difficult climb over loose rocks to the second ridge and beautiful views back down the valley.

Leon, who was leading the party, suddenly stopped and held up his hand.

Laughter, voices, the loud beat of a Heavy Metal band.

They felt defiled, shocked. Their sanctuary had been invaded. The voices came closer. Leon pointed and suddenly they realised they were slightly below and only about ten metres from a pathway. What they’d taken for a natural clay bank ahead was the cutting that enabled the path to be level and wide at that point. It was a corner and they could clearly see the trampers walking directly towards them. With no time to squat or lie on the ground, not that anyone wanted to risk lying on an ant nest, they slipped behind narrow trunks, brushwood stands, clumps of tall grass, and froze. Far from invisible, they were perfectly noticeable to anyone walking silently and alert to life and nature.

Predictably, the six young people, three men in baggy shorts, T-shirts and loudly flapping rubber flip flops, and their girlfriends in abbreviated shorts, flimsy sandals and loose blouses, were neither silent nor watchful. A ghetto blaster competed with the females’ shrill screams, loud laughter, arguments about what song was playing, whether it was worth going on as they’d already been walking for ten minutes, and how pathetic it was that they couldn’t drive the car right to the falls.

The noise passed and the boys watched in dismay as the six invaders wandered round the bend and disappeared.

‘Are they going to the pool?’

‘No, the lookout on top.’

After checking the coast was clear they crossed the track and continued over the ridge and down to a stony creek bed which they followed silently until the sound of water splashing, children shouting, and a woman yelling, forced another halt.

‘Where are we, Anton?’

‘According to the map the pool is just behind that rocky outcrop. The splashing must be the waterfall, and it sounds as if there’s a family swimming. What’ll we do, Jarek?’

‘Eat a sandwich, drink, and wait to see if they leave.’

‘After that, if they’re still there can we scout around and watch them?’

‘You know you can do as you want as long as you keep in pairs and don’t endanger the rest of us; so make sure you remain invisible.’

Fifteen minutes later, twelve refreshed and fully alert naked youths encircled the pool, clearly visible to each other, invisible to the two adults who were becoming increasingly irritated with their recalcitrant children. The father waded into the pool and dragged the two young boys roughly out of the water, holding them while their mother gave each a resounding slap that would have knocked them to the ground had their father not been holding them upright.

‘When I say come here I mean come here! Do you understand?’

Muffled sobs.

Another vicious slap. This time the father let them fall and writhe on the ground, blubbering and begging not to be hit again.

‘Get up!’ the father ordered, nudging the shivering heaps with his toe.

They stood, took the shirts and shorts from their mother, hurriedly dressed then set off at a trot up the path, followed by arguing parents.

‘I told you this was no place to bring the kids.’

‘It’d have been OK if you were stricter! You always….’

The watchers had just decided it was safe to swim when a nasal voice broke the stillness and a young man and his girlfriend appeared.

‘Wanna swim?’

‘You’re joking! There’ll be all sorts of bugs in there. I never go in water that’s not filtered and chlorinated. You go.’

The man removed his T-shirt and dropped his shorts, revealing a pale belly twice as large as it had seemed when clothed. In baggy underpants he lowered himself into the water, declared it too cold, clambered awkwardly out, lay on the rock beside the woman and shoved his hand up her skirt. She giggled and told him to stop it.

‘There’s no one here. Those people with the yowling kids were the last visitors and ours was the last car in the car park. Stop worrying.’

‘Well don’t take too long, someone might come.’

‘I’m the only one coming, woman,’ he laughed, pulling the front of his underpants down to expose a raw-looking erection somewhat less impressive than Melvin's. With a bored sigh the woman took off her panties and spread her legs while her partner rolled on a condom, lifted her feet onto his shoulders, positioned his penis and rammed it in and out while she gazed into the distance. About thirty seconds later the quivering white buttocks clenched in spasm and he collapsed.

‘Get off you great fat lump!’ she complained. ‘You weigh a ton.’

‘Only ninety-two kilos,’ he retorted, rolling onto his back and removing the condom from an unrecognisably shrunken appendage. After tossing it into the bushes he pulled his underpants up without wiping himself, dragged on his shorts and T-shirt, stuffed her underpants in his pocket, then pulled her to her feet.

‘That was real, you know? Out in the fresh air? We should do it more often.’

The woman sighed and said nothing as she followed the unremitting drone of her boyfriend’s voice back up the path.

Twelve increasingly fit, already slightly tanned, alert and silent young men emerged from their concealment only a dozen metres from the pool, and silently slithered in, dived, swam, and sat under the trickle of water that fell in a drop of about thirty metres from a cleft in the rocks above.

‘This is the magicalist spot I’ve ever swum in,’ whispered Robert, to the nodded agreement of everyone else.

Before returning to the trees to climb to the lookout about a hundred metres further up the ridge, they found a discarded plastic bag and filled it with chocolate wrappers, cigarette butts, a yoghurt tub, the recently used condom, five partially eaten meat sandwiches and an old ballpoint pen. Zeno carried it in his pack and, together with Simon, plotted their path to the summit.

The rock wall directly beneath the lookout—a platform cantilevered out over a vertical drop, at first glance seemed impossible, but it was one of Jarek’s favourite climbing spots and by carefully following the placement of his hands and feet everyone discovered the joy of hauling themselves up using the muscles of both legs and arms.

They were squatting directly beneath the platform; visible through the slatted floor above, when voices alerted them to approaching visitors. In the shade and relative comfort they finished their sandwiches and most of the biscuits and water, intending to replenish it in the stream later, unworried that anyone above would think to check what lay beneath their feet.

‘We’re the Invisible Naked Spies,’ Anton whispered.

There seems to be an unwritten law that in the open air most people think they have to shout, or at least speak louder than usual, so as the youths silently munched they learned that Greg would be pleased when his mother went home. Susan confessed she hated her mother in law, because she said Susan wasn’t good enough for her son. Greg foolishly defended his mother, causing Susan to fire off a litany of grievances that ended with Greg telling her to shut the fuck up or he’d knock her lights out. Instead, it was Susan who launched into an attack.

Looking up through the slatted decking they could clearly see Susan pounding her fists into Greg, scoring a beauty on his nose, causing it to bleed. He grasped her wrists, apologised and begged her to calm down. She kicked him viciously on the shins and in the crotch, causing him to let go and grab his balls in agony. A mighty swing with her handbag caught Greg on the side of the head and he dropped to the deck. Blood from his nose splashed on the rocks only centimetres from Arthur’s feet. Susan’s feet marched angrily off the platform. Greg dragged himself to his feet and staggered after her, still apologising.

At a signal from Zeno, Sasha emerged to check, signalled the all clear, and twelve bodies clambered over the side of the platform to stare in wonder, transfixed by the vista that seemed to go on forever till it merged with the sky. A view made infinitely more significant now they’d tramped, waded, clambered and sometimes crawled over and through it, getting scratched, bitten and stung in the process. Tree-covered hills receded in size and tone from warm greens through pale green-grey to distant blues under a cloudless sky in which raptors wheeled. Pride was perhaps the dominant emotion as they retraced with their eyes the ridges and valleys they’d tramped over and through to get here. Just as the rock pool below the waterfall was the most idyllic spot they’d swum in, so this view eclipsed all others and it was only the sound of distant voices that forced their departure.

After depositing the bag of rubbish in the bin provided, they stood silently among the trees a few metres from the path as five young men in motorcycle leathers stumbled noisily past. All five were laughing and swigging from beer bottles. The leader finished his and casually tossed it over his head. It landed at Zeno’s feet, smashing on a rock, covering his toes with shards. Fortunately, none caused cuts and once the louts had passed everyone followed Adrian down the easier, far side of the ridge, then along a densely rain-forested valley to a spring where they drank and refilled their water bottles. From there it was simply a matter of retracing their steps, increasingly tired, but maintaining silence and leaving negligible traces of their passing.

A quick swim in the pond removed the worst of the dirt and dust that had accumulated, and after disinfectant had been liberally applied to a multitude of scratches and grazes, they made their evening meals, which they again took to the recreation room, away from buzzing beetles.

‘What're we doing tonight?’

‘Relaxing. The sky’s clear, the moon won’t rise until late, so I thought a little stargazing might be in order.’

‘Where? Aren’t the trees too close to get a wide enough view?’

‘A few hundred metres past where we soap ourselves, there’s an open area large enough to see most of the sky. There are three tarpaulins in the storeroom we can spread out and lie on to keep ants at bay. Sasha’s an amateur astronomer and says he will be happy to point out the constellations. But if you’re too tired we can play games like last night.’

It was no contest. Twenty minutes later they were on their backs on tarpaulins, peering into the sky as Sasha pointed out the constellations that they checked off on their maps by torchlight. Having identified the South Pole of the sky using the Southern Cross, they understood how navigation could be accomplished at night if you had no compass. Despite their interest, tired muscles reclaimed their attention and they headed back for supper and bed.

Jarek, more tired than he realised from the strain of responsibility, decided to lie a little longer in the warm night and was half asleep when someone lay beside him and gently stroked his arm and chest before leaning over and lightly brushing his lips in a delicate kiss.

He relaxed and let himself be caressed; light grunts of pleasure escaping his lips as an adventurous tongue explored nipples, navel and erection until with a groan of ecstasy Jarek arched his back and ejaculated.

‘That was perfect,’ he whispered, wrapping his arms around the man who had given him such pleasure. He froze. It wasn’t Zeno! This body was very lean and the arms slightly hairy. He could feel an erection and a bony pelvis pressing against his thigh. Carefully he extricated himself and said softly, ‘Leon?’

‘Yes?’

Jarek was too tired to panic. Technically he’d been raped by a fourteen year-old. But of course it wasn’t rape. He’d enjoyed every second. Bindi’s efforts at fellatio had been very unrewarding; nothing like this. Even Zeno lacked Leon’s fervour. Perhaps it was the warm night, starlight and fresh air, but he didn’t have the energy to worry about something that was now done.

‘How did you learn to do that?’

‘Watching videos.’

‘Was it your first time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shouldn’t you have asked me first?’

‘Would you have let me?’

‘No, you’re underage and no one would believe I was not the instigator. No matter what you said, they’d all assume it was the other way round and I’d end up with life imprisonment for child molestation and be murdered by the other inmates in prison. Is that the future you want for me?’

‘Of course not! I really like you and wanted to show you how much, so when I realised you’d stayed behind I came back hoping we could talk, but you seemed to be asleep and I just… I couldn’t help myself… sorry.’ He sat silently, obviously very distressed.

‘I enjoyed it,’ Jarek said simply, unable to be dishonest, ‘and I like you too, but it’s not love. I’m twelve years older than you and if I ever have a serious relationship it will be with someone my own age.’

‘I didn’t expect you would love me or want to have a relationship, I just wanted to show you how much I like you and appreciate what you’ve done for me.’

‘The risk, Leon! I might be a rabid homophobe and kill you for daring to touch me. You took an enormous risk. I might have a sexually transmitted disease!’

‘I’ve seen you naked for three days, even your ring, and there’s not a blemish on your body, no sores, warts on your penis, nothing. You’re far too fit and healthy to be ill, and you’re far too nice a guy to run around naked if you had a sexually transmitted disease, for fear of accidentally infecting someone. I knew you wouldn’t be seriously angry because you have sex with Zeno.’

‘How do you know?’

‘From the way you look at him and the way you both act together. I overheard you telling Melvin to try it on with Sasha. I could have told you they weren’t gay, they just like acting sexy to shock people. It’s not the first time Melvin’s flashed his boner. He was trying to see if you were gay, but you didn’t tell him and he doesn’t guess. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.’

‘You still shouldn’t have done it,’ Jarek said with a sigh.

‘Do you still like me?’

‘More than ever, but don’t ask me why.’

Leon’s deep laugh was infections and they both ended up smiling into the night.

‘Will you tell Zeno?’

‘Of course not. This is our secret. But we’d better get back before tongues start wagging.’

‘Can I hold your hand as we walk?’

‘Your Honour, I am not a paedophile; the child just sucked my cock while I wasn’t looking, and then asked if he could hold my hand, so clearly he hasn’t been adversely affected by the experience.’

‘Yeah, it does sound a bit weak as a defence.’

‘Come on.’ Jarek picked up the tarpaulin, folded it then grasped Leon’s long, lean fingers. Hand in hand they wandered back through the balmy night to the cabin where everyone else was either in bed or nearly there. Another first. He’d never walked hand in hand with a man before.

‘You’re late, what happened?’

‘Fell asleep under the stars.’

‘Hasn’t it been a great day?’

‘The best ever,’ Jarek said, meaning ever word.

‘Where’ve you been, Leon? We were just about to report you lost.’

‘Stood and looked at the stars again, then desperately needed a crap.’

‘Wasn’t it an excellent day?’

‘The best ever,’ Leon replied fervently.