“What’d yer do that for?” He cried.
“Shut it. Here’s the Echo Dah,” she said, placing the paper on the arm of her Father’s chair.
“Cheers Luv,” he replied, leaning forward and breaking wind.
“More tea vicar?” Ian asked.
“Aww Dah!” Nicola said, the noxious odour pervading her nostrils, as she waved it away.
“What?” He asked.
“Bleeding hell!! I can smell that with me eyes!”
“Oh, bloody hell”, her Mother said, walking in from the kitchen.
Her husband sat laughing, accompanied by Ian.
“Why don’t you two, bugger off out and play or something?” Their Mother said.
“But, I want to go to that street party!” Maurice cried.
His Father leant forward, taking one of his old slippers off and throwing it at him.
“Shut up, about that bloody party!”
“C’mon you,” Nicola said, grabbing him by the shoulder, “we’re going out.”
“But I want to go…”
“If you mention the bloody party again, I’ll kill yer,” Nicola interrupted him.
Walking along the pathway to the pavement, Nicola stopped him, pulling him close to her.
“Shut it about the bleeding party alright, because we’re going somewhere better,” she hissed, her voice laced with conspiracy.
“Where are we going then?”
“You like these, don’t yer?” She asked, kneeling to retrieve the box of matches.
He stared at the box reverently.
He was not allowed to go near matches, not since his family discovered to their shock, and after an unwelcome visit from the local constabulary, he possessed a tendency to ‘like’ watching things burn.
“Where’d you get them? Can I have one?” He asked.
“No, you bleeding can’t and I’m not telling yer how I got them,” she retorted, placing the box in her pocket.
“But where are we going our Nicola?”
“We, my dear dimwit of a brother, are going for a smoke.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
They turned as one, at the noise of the van pulling up at the beginning of the lane, a loud crunch reaching them even at this distance, as the driver hit the brakes hard as it reached the patch of gravel forming the entrance.
It stopped, before reversing back and forth, the driver manoeuvring it to block the entrance.
“Oh no, is that who I think it is?” Robert asked.
“There are a couple of men in it, but I can’t make them out from this distance.” Iris said, placing her hand on top of her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“It’s them alright,” Robert said, distinguishing the writing on the side of the van.
The driver of the van, appeared to be giving instructions to the other men in the cab, before opening the driver’s door and jumping onto the soil.
From the other side of the van appeared a thin man, squeezing between the cab and the wooden fence it nearly touched.
Walking to the gate to stand with them, it took David only a moment to recognise the van.
“Iris,” he whispered.
“What is it David?” She asked, turning to face him.
“I think, that’s the van.”
“Which van? Oh, my dear god, you mean?”
“I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks like it.”
He saw the short man who drove the van, standing with his hands on his hips, staring in their direction.
“Quickly, let’s tack him up,” David said, stepping from sight of the driver, certain was unable to see Comet from the angle he was stood, nor the rest of the children alongside him.
“I can’t fit through the gap!” Brendan cried out, attempting to squeeze through the narrow space, Tony barely managed to fit through.
O’Leary stared at the rear of the van. It also lay flush with the wooden fence, erected as a makeshift entrance.
“Crawl under it then,” he commanded, looking at the floor near the bottom of the van, before turning his gaze to the gate in the distance.
“Under it?” Brendan asked, nervously.
“Just bloody do it and get over here, before I drag you under it myself,” O’Leary barked, not turning his gaze from the figures in the distance.
On the other side of the van, Brendan silently mouthed a profanity at his employer.
“’Ere, you can’t park that thing there,” a voice said from a nearby allotment.
O’Leary turned in the direction of the voice, finding himself gazing at an elderly man, in the process of lighting a pipe as he stared at them.
“Corpy business,” O’Leary stated.
“Doesn’t look much like a Corpy van,” the old man said, “and you’re still blocking the entrance.”
O’Leary took a couple of steps to him, standing patiently, stuffing tobacco into the end of his pipe.
They heard the sounds of Brendan’s high-pitched voice, struggling to move his large form underneath the van.
“It’s, not a Corpy van,” O’Leary said, reaching the man and staring into his wrinkled, craggy face.
“Aye, I guessed that, what with the big letters on the side saying, ‘O’Leary Metal Merchant Company’, bit of a giveaway,” the other man replied with a wry grin, placing the pipe into his mouth and fishing an old brass lighter, from his worn tweed blazer.
The silence, now settled between the two of them, became interrupted by a yell emitting from under the van.
“What is it?” Tony asked, kneeling.
“I’ve burnt myself on the exhaust!” Brendan replied, “It’s really hot!”
“Aye lad, exhaust pipes do tend to be hot,” the old man remarked chuckling and lighting his pipe.
“I’ve burnt my arm!” the voice cried from underneath the van.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” O’Leary exclaimed.
“Tony, grab him out of there will yer?”
Lying on the floor, Tony reached to Brendan with his arm, finding himself unable to reach his sleeve.
“Can’t reach him Boss,” He said, getting to his knees.
“Then, get under there with him and get him out, for crying out loud!”
The old man chuckled, watching the proceedings.
“Find something funny?” O’Leary asked, turning his gaze from the van, to the figures stood at the gate, before returning it back to the elderly observer.
“Aye lad, I do. Better than watching Laurel and Hardy at the picture house this is,” he replied with an even louder chuckle, leaning against the fence making himself more comfortable, to watch the spectacle unfolding in front of him.
Back at the entrance to the field, Robert and Iris stood against the gate, observing what was occurring at the van.
“What on earth are they doing?” Iris asked.
“No idea Sis,” Robert replied, watching the skinnier of the men get on the floor, the large man in the sheepskin jacket using his boot to push him further under the vehicle.
The yell heard from the van, clearly heard even from this distance.
“Are you nearly done David?” Iris called, turning to watch his progress tacking up Comet.
“As best as I can, Iris my love,” he replied, raising the heavy reins over Comets head.
Her heart beat faster, the inside of her stomach suddenly inhabited with a thousand fluttering butterflies.
He called me ‘my love’.
“As you can see, I’ve his bridle on and the reins and things,” he said, “the bridle isn’t the same sort as I’ve seen in the yard, so that wasn’t easy. At least I don’t have to worry about putting a saddle on him though, as we don’t have one.”
She looked at him, stood next to Comet, the children around him.
He stared at her quizzically.
I love him…
“What, are they doing?” Wally asked, approaching the gate.
They stood, watching the man in the sheepskin jacket ju
mping theatrically, shouting and waving his arms above his head.
“No idea,” Robert replied, “but that old feller seems to be enjoying himself.”
They watched the old man, leaning against the fence near the van, raising his head back and roaring out in laughter.
“Grab his bloody leg, for crying out loud!” O’Leary raged.
“He’s not budging Boss!”
“I think, I’ve caught me belt on something,” Brendan said, accompanied by a pitiful cry.
“Well, take your bloody belt off then!” O’Leary screamed.
Tears of laughter running down his cheeks, the old man coughed harshly.
“Stop it, please, my sides are killing me!” He said, watching as Tony stretched under the van to reach his colleague.
“Oww!” Came a yell.
“Oh, for Pity’s sake, not again Brendan!”
“That wasn’t Brendan boss, that was me, I’ve burnt my hand!”
“What the hell?!” O’Leary exclaimed.
The old man laughed uncontrollably at the sight, as another elderly man’s head appeared from a nearby allotment.
“Alright Ted, what’s going on and who’s parked that bloody thing there?”
“Ah don’t worry about it Sid, it’s all part of the show,” Ted replied, placing his now extinguished pipe into his breast pocket.
“What show?” Sid asked.
“Oh, the Laurel and Hardy show over here,” he replied, “have a look, Stan’s trying to get Ollie out from under the van!”
Turning to him on overhearing the conversation, O’Leary’s face flushed red with anger.
“You’re not helping matters much you know?”
“Oh, I’m not here to help, I’m just part of the audience,” Ted replied, followed by a cackle of laughter.
Looking at him, O’Leary spat on the ground, before returning to his two workers, both scrambling under the van yelping and cursing.
“Why didn’t they just…” Sid began to say.
“Shush,” Ted directed, turning his gaze to his neighbour, “they’re as mad as box of frogs this lot!”
Sid peered his head over the fence, to have a closer look.
“Aye, you’re right there by the looks of it.”
Now on his own knees, O’Leary dragged Tony’s legs, who in turn pulled on the legs of Brendan.
“Can you get his belt off from there?”
“I’m trying to Boss, but it’s stuck on one of the pipes.”
“For pity’s sake, this is getting worse with every passing bloody second.”
A snap sounded, followed by sudden movement, as Brendan’s belt finally gave way.
“Got him Boss!” Tony exclaimed.
“At bloody last!” O’Leary remarked, falling onto his backside.
“I told you it’d get better, didn’t I Sid?” Ted asked, laughing uproariously, at the sight of O’Leary on his back.
Chuckling, Sid returned to tending his allotment, leaving his old friend to find amusement in the trio’s endeavours.
Crawling on his chest from underneath the van, Tony dragged his colleague behind him.
Brendan scrambled on the floor, his huge bulk connecting with anything protruding from underneath the van.
“Help me Tone!” He cried, his large bulk appearing from the underneath of the chassis, as Tony tugged at him.
“For pity’s sake!” O’Leary cried, grabbing hold of Tony’s jacket, pulling back hard until, with a wrenching tear, the fabric gave way and he ended up falling again onto his backside.
The old man, was beside himself with laughter.
“Sorry for calling you Laurel and Hardy,” he managed to say in-between harsh coughs, fighting to control his laughter, feeling his chest may burst at any moment.
“So, you should be!” Brendan said, his head appearing from beneath the vehicle, coloured as brightly red as ripe beetroot.
“I should have said the Three Stooges!” The old man called, continuing his croaky laughter.
“Sarcastic swine,” O’Leary said, getting to his knees.
“Look out!” Ted cried, pointing his hand towards the sky.
The three men gasped, Brendan scrambling to return under the van, Tony lay on his chest, his hands over his head as O’Leary looked skywards.
“What?” O’Leary asked.
“Oh nothing,” Ted replied, “I just thought I saw a piano falling out of the sky, that’s all.”
O’Leary stared at him intimidatingly, but all he received in return was a smile.
“C’mon, let’s go get that bloody horse back,” he barked at the other men, now managing to get to their feet, the sun casting their long shadows across the lane.
Ted went to make another remark, but thought better of it, when he saw the look in O’Leary’s face, determined, purposeful and angry.
The trio slowly made their way along the gritty lane, towards the gate at the opposite end.
“They’re coming!” Wally cried, watching the three men walking toward them.
Managing to tack Comet up as best as able, David struggled with the large collar, managing to adjust it so not to cause him any discomfort.
“How are we going to get passed that van?” Iris asked him, gently touching his arm with the palm of her hand.
He placed his own hand upon hers, before replying.
“Right now, my love I’ve no idea,” he replied, “but I’m certain we’ll think of something.”
She stared into his ocean blue eyes, smiling.
She would trust this man, until her dying day.
She knew it, she felt it, she sensed it with each fibre of her being and her heart soared, as he returned her smile with a smile of his own.
“Let’s get him to the far end of the field away from them,” Robert said, watching the men approach.
“Good idea Rob,” David said, smiling at him.
Staring at him, Robert returned the smile.
In the short space of time he knew him, he realised David was one of the most genuine people he met in his short life. Full of kindness and concern, not only for his sister, but for Comet and all the children as one.
A younger version of Archie.
Taking hold of the leather rein, David began walking Comet across the large expanse of the field towards the opposite side, Iris walking alongside him with Robert closely behind them.
The other children remained at the gate watching the men approach, Barbara, Maisie, Jack and Frank remaining hidden in the allotment.
“What are you thinking?” Frank asked Jimmy.
“Many thoughts,” Jimmy replied, “but right now, I’m thinking of a way to delay them, until we figure a way to get Comet passed that van.”
“Is there no other way out?” Jack asked, casting a glance towards the field.
Shaking his head, Jimmy leant against the wooden gate.
“This is the only way in and out and I don’t think even Comet could jump over that van,” he replied sadly, watching the three men approach, O’Leary taking as long as a stride as his short legs would allow him to.
“Is there no way we get Comet away along the side of the canal?” Jack asked, looking towards the trees lining the canal-side.
“Too overgrown with trees, bushes and things Jack,” Wally replied, absently drumming his fingers on the wooden gate.
“Let’s just do the best we can then, until we figure something out,” Samuel said, bringing his fingers to his mouth and emitting an ear-splitting whistle, resonating around them.
“C’mon then!” He shouted in the direction of the approaching men, “C’mon!”
“The cheeky little bastard,” O’Leary said, picking up his pace.
“Yeah! C’mon short-arse!” Jimmy shouted.
“Catch us if you can Shorty!” Frank shouted laughing, joined by a chorus of laughter from the other boys.
“Grab that horse and teach those mouthy little swine a bloody lesson!” O’Leary managed to say between gasps of b
reaths, breaking into a jog, his large sheepskin jacket hampering his strides.
“Which do you want us to grab first?” Brendan gasped, struggling to keep up with his boss.
“What?” O’Leary cried out, fighting to catch his breath as he lowered his pace.
“Do, do you want us to get the horse first or the, or the kids?”
“Grab the bloody horse for crying out loud! What are we going to do, with a bunch of bloody kids?”
“I just thought you said, you meant…” Brendan uttered, then thought better to continue.
He caught sight of the look in O’Leary’s eyes, the rage and hatred accompanied with determination, appeared to radiate from his eyes.
“Just give them a slap around the head or two,” O’Leary uttered, in-between gasps of hurried breath.
Hurrying their pace, they watched as the children at the gate began moving slowly backwards into the field, alongside the conifer bushes and trees, calling out mocking insults at them.
“Get here, you cheeky little bastards!” Tony shouted, as the three men reached the gate, forcing it open with a violent push.
“C’mon!” Samuel shouted at them, “Catch us if you can!”
“I’ll catch you right enough, you cheeky, fat bugger!” Tony shouted, striding towards them.
“Oi!” Brendan shouted, forcing his way through the gate.
“I didn’t mean you Bren, I meant that fat bugger,” Tony replied, entwining his fingers and cracking them loudly, “I’m gonner have them. You stay at the gate and make sure nobody gets through!”
“Come and have a go if you think yer hard enough!” Jimmy shouted, sticking two fingers up at the skinny man approaching them.
“I’ve always wanted to shout that,” he said, running alongside Samuel and Wally towards the direction of the large conifer trees, deliberately leading the skinny man away from where David was leading Comet, closely followed by Iris and Robert.
“Did he call me a fat bugger?” Samuel said panting.
“Yeah, I think he did,” Jimmy replied, ahead of him.
“He did,” Wally agreed, catching up with Jimmy.
“I’m, I’m not fat, I’m just big-boned,” Samuel gasped, barely keeping up with his friends, “my Mum told me.”
“Did she? Well, can you get your big bones to run a bit quicker,” Jimmy said, “that skinny one’s catching up!”
Comet Page 28