‘Oi was toied joost here, furst toime we met – yew remember, boy?’ Michael nodded:
‘That’s roight, Dad. Oi’ll never forget – Oi was so nervous!’
‘Oi was pretty grumpy wi’ yeh, wasn’ Oi?’ Michael grinned at him:
‘Not really!’ Albert drew on his pipe, blew out a cloud of smoke:
‘Oi was feelin’ so… depressed. Oi’d joost buried moy Rita – ’n Oi was worried ’bout Alex, o’ course, ’im bein’ away in the Navy…’ He chuckled quietly: ’N along cooms Bill ’Anney, wi’ this daft oidea that Oi should tek on this know-nothin’ kid off the bank ter ’elp me roon the boats! ‘Ow stoopid can yeh get, that’s what Oi thought.’
‘Boot yeh took me on, any’ow?’ Albert nodded:
‘Ther’ was soomthin’ about yeh, Moikey. A… koind o’ spirit, Oi suppose. Skinny little kid, yeh was! Boot yeh had a feelin’ o’… oh, Oi dunno, copin’ wi things, soom’ow. ’n Bill said yeh’d doon well wi’ them, on the roon from Stoke Bruin…’
Ginny had been sitting quietly, listening to their memories; now, she asked:
‘Are you glad yeh did, Dad?’ Albert turned to her, shook his head:
‘Nah! Wurst thing Oi ever did in moy loife!’ But the grin on his face told its own tale – she reached over and punched his shoulder; he grabbed her hand, drew her close and took her in his arms:
‘Yew two are the best things that ever ’appened to me – ’cept per’aps meetin’ Rita. ’Ow Oi’d a’ coped without yeh, ’specially when Alex was killed, Oi joost don’ know.’ Michael felt tears suddenly burning behind his eyes, he said quietly:
‘Yew saved my loife. Oh, Bill and Billy fished me out of the canal, that night – boot it was workin’ with you, ’avin’ a new Dad, someone I could love and respect… Yew gave me a loife worth livin’, Dad.’
‘’N I’d be stuck in soom dreadful orphanage soomwher’, if it wasn’ fer yew, Dad.’
‘Yeh don’ regret coomin’ on the boats, then? Yeh don’ miss yer schoolin’, toime teh play wi’ yer friends?’ Two heads shook as one:
‘No!’
‘Never!’
‘Coom ’ere, Moikey!’ The boy stood up; Albert’s eyes followed him:
‘Look at yeh, boy! So tall ’n ’andsome – no woonder yoong ’Arriet’s got an oiye fer yeh! Yer Mum would be proud o’ yeh, both o’ yeh.’ Michael slipped into the bench beside him; Albert freed one arm from Ginny, slid it around his shoulders:
‘Moy son – moy daughter! Oi’m so proud o’ the two o’ yeh…!’ Ginny wriggled closer:
‘I love you, Daddy.’
Teenage boys are not given to displays of sentiment. But:
‘Oi love yeh too, Dad.’
In this sequel to A Boy Off The Bank, published March 2008, the familiar characters of Michael and Ginny, Alby Baker, and other boating families – the Hanneys, the Caplins – continue their lives in peacetime Britain, plying their trade despite the deteriorating state of the waterways. And new faces appear, one of whom is to have a greater impact on the crew of the Sycamore and the Antrim than they could ever guess…
The pleasures and hardships of a working life on the canals, the occasional joy or tragedy, form the backdrop of a deeply human tale in which the reader becomes enmeshed in the lives of his characters. A third book, The New Number One, was published in 2009, and completes the story of Michael’s growth from the scrawny boy from Wolverton into the respected head of a boating family.
Departing from the detective novels for which he is known, in Starlight Geoffrey Lewis tells a tale of schoolboy friendship set against the backdrop of the Oxford Canal in the days when the commercial trade was in decline; the canal itself threatened with closure. In a story where the mood ranges from heartwarming humour to unbearable poignancy, he conjures up the world of the 1950s; factual events and real characters flit past in the background as he leads the reader through the long heat-wave of the summer of 1955, as it was seen by an eleven-year-old boy living in a little North Oxfordshire village.
Starlight was published in 2005 – for more information, please check our website at www.sgmpublishing.co.uk or telephone 07792 497116. ISBN 978-0-9545624-5-8. Cover price £6.99.
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