by Sarah Webb
“No,” said Henry, whose confusion right now was only slightly less obvious than his delight. “I don’t know how to explain it. But can we keep him?”
“I suppose we better,” said Eleanor with a sigh. “We can’t just throw him out on to the street, after all.”
“But what’s his name?” asked Melanie, and the entire family turned to look at Henry as if he would surely know the answer to that question at least.
Henry thought about it. It wasn’t easy to think of names just like that. He took his pilot’s goggles off his head, placed them on the table next to Biggles in the Baltic, and when his eyes fell on the cover, he smiled.
“Captain W.E. Johns,” he announced, reading the author’s name from the book jacket. “His name is Captain W.E. Johns.”
And as he said this, the little puppy wagged his tail again and barked, a tiny bark this time, something to suggest that he was happy to accept this name as his own.
The little puppy had found a home.
For now, at least.
*
To find out what happens to Captain W.E. Johns in the years that follow, read John Boyne’s novel THE TERRIBLE THING THAT HAPPENED TO BARNABY BROCKET.
Judi Curtin is the bestselling author of three series of books for children – Alice and Megan, The Eva series, and Friends Forever. Judi was a teacher for many years but now writes full time. When she’s not writing, she makes things and takes good care of her tomato plants. She lives in Limerick with her family.
Chris Judge is an illustrator and children’s picture book maker based in Dublin. His fi rst picture book, The Lonely Beast, won the Irish Children’s Book of the Year. His latest picture book is TiN and he also illustrated Roddy Doyle’s book for younger readers, Brilliant.
Dear Mr Lee,
I hope you are well.
I guess you’re wondering why a total stranger is writing to you. It’s not my idea – I promise. You can blame it all on Mr Jordan. He’s my teacher, and he has the weirdest ideas. Last week he made us all sit on the floor in a big circle. He said we had to be really quiet for five minutes, and become aware of our heartbeats. Five minutes is a long time, and I was mostly aware that Lulu Grimes, who was sitting next to me, has huge lumpy warts all over her right hand. (If you ever get to meet Lulu Grimes, be sure not to shake her hand – warts are very contagious and totally gross.)
Anyway, this week Mr Jordan said everyone has to write a letter to someone they admire. We should tell them a bit about ourselves, and then say why we admire them. Like I said, weeeeiiird!
Most of the boys in my class decided to write to soccer players or scary rap singers. The girls picked cute kids from boy bands, and writers of soppy books about ponies. Darragh Joyce wrote to a fortune-cookie writer. (Darragh is nearly as weird as Mr Jordan, and that’s saying something, trust me.)
Anyway, today you got lucky, and I chose you.
Mr Lee, I admire you because …
Actually, I can’t finish that sentence, and I can’t erase it because we’re not allowed to have correction fluid in class. The thing is, I don’t really like telling lies. It’s not that I’m especially honest or anything, it’s just that I’m not a very good liar and I’m always afraid of being found out. So, the truth is, Mr Lee, I don’t admire you at all. To be honest, I never even heard of you until twenty minutes ago, when I found you in an internet search. According to the local newspaper, you’re the richest man in the city, and while that’s not enough to make me admire you (I’m not a shallow person who’s impressed by that kind of stuff), it does mean that maybe you could do me a favour.
The person I really admire most in the world is my Grandda. (If you’re wondering why I’m not writing this letter to him, it’s because he’d laugh and call me soft.) Grandda is eighty-nine and a half, and he’s great. He’s not cool or anything, but he kind of looks out for me, and defends me when my mum and dad are picking on me for nothing (which they do a lot). That’s why I have to look out for Grandda too.
Anyway, the problem is, winter is a really hard time for Grandda because his house is always freezing cold. There isn’t any central heating and he hasn’t got much money to buy coal. Usually when I visit Grandda, he and his dog Psycho are huddled over a tiny fire made out of about three lumps of coal and a few sticks. I’ve sat next to scented candles that give more heat.
So, Mr Lee, I was thinking, since you’re so rich and everything, maybe you could help Grandda. Do you think you could put some heating into his house for him? Luckily, you own heaps of hardware stores – that’s another reason I picked you. It wouldn’t cost you a whole lot, since you could just get the radiators and pipes and stuff for nothing from one of your own shops. Maybe some of your workers could do the job in their lunch breaks or something?
I’d be really grateful, and Grandda would be too – even though he’d never say it – he’s too proud to admit that he needs help.
What do you think?
Yours sincerely
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
Thank you for your lovely letter.
I appreciate the fact that you didn’t lie about admiring me. (Since I became rich, people have been queuing up to tell me lies.)
I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather’s woes, but I suspect you haven’t discussed this with your parents, and they might be upset to hear that you are asking me for help. Maybe they are busy and haven’t noticed exactly how cold your grandfather’s house is? If you discuss it with them, I’m sure they’ll manage to help him somehow.
With best regards,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thank you for your prompt reply. I was the first in the class to get a letter back – I guess the rappers and the footballers and fortune-cookie writers are kind of busy with their own stuff.
I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but do you really think I’d be asking a total stranger for help, if my own mum and dad could just write a cheque and make everything all right???
Mum and Dad both lost their jobs this year, and things in our house have been kind of rough since then. (Lately we all have to share a teabag in the morning. I’m usually the last one up, and trust me, on the third go, a teabag isn’t up to much.)
Dad says things will pick up soon, and that we’ll be OK in the end. That’s good news for us, but while we’re waiting, poor Grandda and Psycho are freezing, and we can’t afford to help them.
It’s up to you, I’m afraid.
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I am sorry to hear that things in your family are so bad. I can sympathise because business in my hardware stores dropped by 3.2 per cent last year.
I’m afraid I won’t be able to install central heating in your grandfather’s house. You see, my firm already contributes to a foundation that helps local charities. I’m not in a position to divert any of those funds, as this would simply be depriving other poor people of help, and I’m sure your grandfather wouldn’t like that.
With best regards,
Dear Mr Lee,
I asked my mum about charitable foundations. She said they are usually a dodgy tax scam. She said another word before the word dodgy, but it was rude, so I’m not going to write it here. (Mr Jordan doesn’t read all our letters, but he does spot checks, and I could get in a lot of trouble.)
You needn’t worry about diverting funds from other poor people. Grandda wouldn’t care about that. He says that at his age he’s entitled to be selfish.
Maybe you could reconsider your decision?
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I’m afraid diverting funds from a charitable foundation isn’t a simple thing to do. These things have to be planned months in advance, and even if I started today, by the time things were organised,
the winter would be over.
Has your grandfather tried talking to the local council about installing central heating? I believe they have quite generous grants these days.
Yours sincerely,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thank you for your suggestion about the local council. That would have been a very good idea, except that Grandda is at war with the council. He set Psycho on one of their workers a few years back, and it didn’t turn out well. Psycho is only a terrier, and most of his teeth have fallen out from old age, but Grandda says he punches above his weight when it comes to scaring away unwanted visitors.
So basically, the council won’t help. We are relying on you.
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I am very sorry to hear about your grandfather’s issues with the council. Sometimes people get a bit offended when they are chased by mad old dogs, even when they are practically toothless.
Maybe if your grandfather changes his lifestyle, he could survive without central heating? On the internet there are lots of helpful tips about how elderly people can stay warm in their houses during the cold weather.
Yours sincerely,
Dear Mr Lee,
Have you been paying any attention to my letters at all? My grandda is eighty-nine and a half years old!
He still calls the radio the wireless. When he rings my auntie in America, he shouts extra loud because she’s so far away. When he talks about his laptop, he means the dented old tray he eats his dinner off in the evening.
He is never, ever, ever, ever going to use the internet.
Yours very sincerely and fairly angrily,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I am not an idiot. I thought that perhaps you could look things up on the internet for your grandfather, and tell him what you find there. Then you could take a break from writing annoying letters to people you’ve never met, and don’t even admire.
Yours,
Dear Mr Lee,
Sorry if I was a bit out of order in my last letter. I was extra worried about Grandda. He says the forecast is for very cold weather over the next few weeks. (Grandda loves the weather forecast, even though he hasn’t been outside for about six months.)
I really appreciate your prompt replies. Two of the girlie writers have sent letters, and one of the footballers sent a signed photograph. The fortune-cookie writer sent Darragh a signed fortune-cookie paper saying ‘a blue-haired alien will be coming for you shortly’. Darragh spent the rest of the morning watching out the window, looking really scared. No one else has had anything. With five letters, I’m well ahead of everyone else. I might even get a gold star at the end of the term. (I’ve never got a gold star before. Mr Jordan says I don’t respect authority. Not sure what he’d know about that. I saw him driving and texting last week, and once he made a face at the principal behind her back.)
Anyway, what about the central heating?
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
That’s OK about your second-last letter. Clearly you love your grandfather a lot. He’s a lucky man.
Maybe he could try wearing an extra jumper around the house?
Yours sincerely,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thanks for the suggestion about the extra jumper. It’s a good idea, but Grandda already wears heaps of clothes around the house. In the evenings, he wears a hat and gloves and a scarf and three vests and two jumpers and a fleece and a dressing gown and an anorak. He looks more like he’s going on a skiing holiday than just upstairs to bed.
This problem is bigger than a few extra jumpers.
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
Thank you for your letter.
I don’t usually do things like this, but since you are so persistent, I am going to make an exception. I am enclosing some vouchers that you can give to your grandfather. With these, he can take advantage of our special offer, which will allow him to buy three bags of coal for the price of two.
I trust this will help him.
Yours sincerely,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thank you for the special offer coal vouchers. I looked on the internet and I see that your shops don’t deliver. That’s a bit of a problem for Grandda. How is he expected to carry three bags of coal? (Have I mentioned that he’s eighty-nine and a half?) He hasn’t driven since he got put off the road for dangerous driving about ten years ago. (He drove his car into a river at the back of his house.) You can still see the roof of his car in the summer when the water is low. It’s kind of cool. My friends and I throw stones at it sometimes.
Mum and Dad can’t pick up the coal either, because our car was repossessed a few months ago.
I’m returning your vouchers. Maybe you can give them to your charitable foundation?
Trust me, I’ve thought about this a lot and the only solution for my grandda is for you to put central heating in his house.
I await your answer with great respect and hope.
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I’m sorry to hear that the vouchers weren’t any use to your grandfather. I’ll make sure they go to a good cause.
Eighty-nine and a half is quite old. Maybe it’s time for your grandfather to live somewhere else? Has anyone ever suggested that he move in with your family? Since the two of you are such good pals, it might work out well. (And he could stand up for you all the time.)
Just a thought.
All best regards,
Dear Mr Lee,
Have you ever seen a grown man cry?
I have and it’s not nice. It happened at the start of the winter, when Mum tried to persuade Grandda to come and stay with us for a while.
“I’m not leaving my house,” he said. “When the time comes, they’ll take me out of here in a box.”
I thought he meant a horse box or something, because Grandda always likes watching horse races on the TV. Mum told me later that he meant a coffin, and that made me cry a bit too when no one was looking.
Please, Mr Lee, you’ve got to do something.
Yours in desperation,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?
Dear Mr Lee,
No.
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
I surrender. Please send me your grandfather’s address, and tell him I will visit him later this week. Please arrange for your parents to be there too. I might need someone to stand between me and Psycho.
Yours sincerely,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thank you very, very, very, very much. Grandda lives at 27 Forest Lane. I’ve told him you’re not from the council, but just in case he forgets and sets Psycho on you, maybe you should have a few doggy treats in your pocket. His favourites are the rabbit-flavoured ones that come in a blue bag.
Yours in gratitude,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
Please tell your grandfather I will be there on Friday at 12 o’clock. I will bring a big sack of treats for Psycho. (Luckily we sell them in the hardware store.) We’re all out of rabbit-flavoured ones, so let’s hope he likes turkey too.
Yours,
Dear Mr Lee,
Thanks for visiting Grandda. I asked him if you were nice, and he said you weren’t too bad. That’s a big deal, because Grandda hates everyone except for me and my mum and dad. (And I think he might even hate my dad a small little bit. He still thinks
Mum should have married the guy who runs the fish and chip shop.)
Psycho really enjoyed the turkey-flavoured treats. He managed to tear the bag open, and he ate them all on Friday night while Grandda was in bed.
In case you’re ever wondering, doggy vomit really stinks!
Yours sincerely,
27 THE AVENUE
HIGH STREET
TOWN
Dear Lorcan,
Your grandda isn’t too bad either. The story he told me about the council man was very funny. I hope he was exaggerating.
Your mum and dad aren’t too bad either. I presume you know that your mother is a genius? She managed to fix my smartphone, which has been acting up for weeks. There’s a vacancy in the computer department of my firm, and if she’s interested, tell her to get in touch. You know my address!
Yours truly,
PS You were right about your grandfather’s house. It was completely freezing, and I am embarrassed that I didn’t act sooner.
Dear Mr Lee,
Don’t be embarrassed. None of this is your fault, and now you’re being super-nice, which is always good.
Mum thought you might have been kidding about the job, but she was desperate, so that’s why she decided to take a chance and call you. She’s going to start next week, but you know that, don’t you?
I didn’t like to distract you from Grandda’s heating problems, but things weren’t great in our place lately either. Now, with Mum working, I might get a teabag all to myself at breakfast time. I’m looking forward to that.