Jake, The Yorkshire Farmer's Lad: A Gay Historical Journey of Discovery
In his latest story, Joey Jenkinson steps back in time to 1964, three years before homosexuality was decriminalized in Britain.
At twenty, farmer’s boy Jake Nelson already has a reputation, that of village lothario having seduced twenty women, most of them married and not getting from their husbands what the lusty beefcake has to offer. This changes when farmhand Mark Noble unleashes feelings within him that Jake never knew he had. When the pair are caught in the act by Eddie, Jake’s abusive father, Jake is shamed into leaving for London, where Mark’s friend, pop entrepreneur Tommy Vincent, employs him as chauffeur to tetchy homophobic crooner Lennie Stevens. In London, Jake is catapulted into a world he never knew existed: one populated with rent-boys, men-only bars, and far less prejudice than he had encountered back in Yorkshire. Tommy has a reputation for sleeping with all his male singers, even heterosexual ones, in exchange for guaranteed fame, but it is Jake who seduces him in a continuance of his journey of sexual discovery which sees him getting bolder and more adventurous with each new day. In Soho one evening, Jake meets Ricky Ross, a “Dilly Boy” with whom he finds himself gradually falling in love. He also encounters tremendous prejudice, most especially from Lennie when, on the tour circuit, Jake hooks up with a famous Liverpudlian singer. Tragedy ensues, compelling Jake to return to Yorkshire, taking Ricky with him. While here, his father dies, and at Eddie Nelson’s funeral that he meets Justin, the adopted cousin he has not seen for years. The drama continues, with Jake facing more than a few seemingly surmountable obstacles as his journey progresses. But will he succeed in finding lasting happiness?
WARNING: this story contains adult material of a sexual nature.
The next morning, Saturday, Jake awoke feeling better than he had in years. Though he had had done the business with a good twenty women, he had never spent the night with any of them. It had always been al fresco sex, or in their homes when their husbands or boyfriends were at work. This was the first time he had woken up in someone else’s room, in a bed that was not his own. He got off the bed and stretched, and padded across to the window. It was sunny outside. Birds were twittering in the trees which surrounded the cottage. And he had a rampant hard-on! Then he heard whistling coming from downstairs, and smelled bacon frying. A moment later, Mark breezed into the room. He was wearing his plaid dressing-gown and observed the large slab of man-meat which Jake had rested on the window-sill.
“That looks very tasty,” he mused. “But first of all you must eat to keep up your strength. Why don’t you go have a shower while you’re waiting?”
He headed back downstairs, and Jake crossed the landing to the bathroom. The shower that Mark had rigged up over the bath was crude—a hosepipe attached to the taps, with a watering-can rose shoved on to the end. There was no hot water and Jake shivered as he quickly soaped himself clean. Then, wrapping a towel about his middle and using another to dry himself, he returned to the bedroom. Two minutes later, Mark arrived with a tray containing bacon sandwiches and a pot of tea.
“So, what happens next?” Jake asked, tossing the towels aside and flopping on to the bed. “Obviously I can’t stay here, not with the old man on the warpath.”
“Nor can I,” Mark told him. “Your father’s got a mouth the size of a gas oven. By now the whole village is going to know about how I’ve perverted Eddie Nelson’s son. Never mind that it takes two to tango. First thing Monday morning I’ll have to down the Labour Exchange and sign on. And seeing as I’ve been sacked, I won’t get any benefits for six weeks. Those are the rules, Jake. Good job I’ve got a little put aside for a rainy day, for the way I see it, it’s going to be pissing down for a long time.”