Where The Rainbow Ended
I think you’ll like this story. It’s also true.
In ‘Paperboy’ (just reissued with an updated cover mentioning my award-win) I spoke about childhood books. There was one particular book that intrigued me. It was the fantasy ‘Where The Rainbow Ends’, a book considered ideal for every young child’s bedroom. One illustration showed a girl being yanked into a shadowy forest by homunculi with razor-sharp claws, her pale arms striped with crimson scars. It was captioned ‘Rosamund Is Dragged Into The Black Wood By Imps’ (later she gets tied to a tree and left for the hyenas). The book was by Clifford Mills. It started with four children, a lion cub and a genie, and ended with a battle between St George and the dragon.
In an effort to reacquaint myself with part of my childhood, I tried to find the particular edition I had owned at the age of seven, but although other editions turned up over the years, I never found it.
Then one day I advertised for it on the internet, and a lady in Sevenoaks said she had a copy, and would sell it to me. When it arrived, I opened it – and there on the first page was my name, transcribed when I was seven.
My mother had had friends in Sevenoaks, and my brother used to visit a playmate down there. Somehow the original book had been taken there and left all these years, to await rediscovery.
Here’s the book, and my signature.