close

Вход

Забыли?

вход по аккаунту

?

The People’s Friend - November 11, 2017

код для вставкиСкачать
Competitions open to UK residents only, unless otherwise stated.
7
Expert health advice on living
with the skin condition rosacea
joyful stories
Easy and delicious
meat-free meals
Nov 11, 2017 No. 7701
�30
Fabulous fiction
Spicy Thai Sweet Potato Curry
? An Italian romance by Lydia Jones
? Alison Carter?s poignant story for
Remembrance Day
Exploring
AU $4.50, NZ $4.50
9770262238299
Exclusive
interview
with TV?s
Dr Alice
Roberts
�30
45
11- Nov - 2017
UK Off-sale date - 15/11/2017
Exeter
Spend a day in this beautiful
cathedral city
Plant
now for a
stunning
spring tulip
display
Free
Pattern
Inside
This
lovely top
has an
unusual
lacy back
this week
Inside The People?s Friend
If you like the ?Friend?
then you?ll love...
The People?s Friend Special On sale
now!
No 148, priced �99
l 8 pages of puzzles
l 14 brand-new short stories
The People?s Friend Pocket
Novel No 847, priced �49
l Drama in a time of crisis
by Miranda Barnes
Cover Artwork: Exeter, Devon by J. Campbell Kerr.
Available in newsagents & supermarkets
Fiction
Regulars
Features
4 Under A Tuscan Sky
by Lydia Jones
15 A Day Out In London
by Jenny Worstall
21 Blessings From Above
by Wendy Clarke
23 SERIES Tales From
Prospect House
by Malcolm Welshman
28 SERIAL Beyond Rubies
by Kate Hewitt
43 Dear Hilary
by Gail Crane
55 Office Politics
by Susan Blackburn
61 In Remembrance
by Alison Carter
68 SERIAL The Dividing
Tide by Lorna Howarth
87 A Pair Of Brown Eyes
by Rebecca Mansell
93 WEEKLY SOAP
Riverside
by Glenda Young
7 This Week We?re Loving
13 Maddie?s World
18 Health & Wellbeing
25 Brainteasers
35 The Farmer & His Wife
36 Cookery: delicious
recipes to celebrate
Vegan Month
59 Our Next Issue
70 Reader Offer: Beautiful
Blooms
73 From The Manse
Window
79 Would You Believe It?
81 Knitting: try our
eyecatching top with a
pretty lace back
94 Between Friends
8 Pat Coulter enjoys a day
out in historic Exeter
27 Steve Burnett?s hopes
that his violins will
spread a message of
peace
40 Our exclusive interview
with TV?s Dr Alice
Roberts
53 Our book
recommendations for
this month
64 Alexandra Campbell
champions growing
your own hedge
67 Tina Robertson is
clocking up the miles in
memory of her mum
75 It?s a web of wonder
with fascinating facts on
spiders
85 Cook, eat, enjoy... tasty
ideas for the kitchen
91 Extra puzzle fun
p36
SUBSCRIPTION OFFER ? SAVE �
13 issues for *�when you subscribe
? Call 0800 318846**, quote PFCOV
Subscribe
and save
�!
*Payment by Direct Debit only. Saving based on first quarterly payment
of �and standard rate of � every 3 months thereafter. UK bank accounts
only. One year minimum term. For overseas enquiries, please call +44 1382 575580.
**(8 a.m.-6 p.m., Mon-Fri, 9 a.m.-5 p.m., Sat.) Free from UK landlines and mobiles.
www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk
www.facebook.com/PeoplesFriendMagazine
I know many of you
greatly appreciate the
Remembrance Day
stories and features
that we bring you every
November at this time,
and this year, to
commemorate the
occasion, we have a
tender, poignant story
by Alison Carter on
page 61, and a feature
on violin-maker Steve
Burnett?s beautiful
tribute to three of the
best-known war poets,
which he hopes will
help spread the
message of peace, on
page 27.
Other highlights
include our exclusive
interview with scientist
and TV presenter Dr
Alice Roberts, which
you?ll find on page 40,
and vet Malcolm D.
Welshman?s highly
entertaining and useful
guide to dealing with a
very common seasonal
problem ? the annual
house-spider invasion!
Last but not least, I
must mention our
cookery section, which
this issue is celebrating
World Vegan Month.
You don?t have to be
vegan ? or even
vegetarian ? to enjoy
these tasty recipes, and
your health will thank
you, too, for making a
regular meat-free meal
part of your diet.
Angela Gilchrist, Editor.
twitter.com/@TheFriendMag
Under A
Tuscan Sky
Illustration by Sarah Holliday.
T
HERE will be snow
for Santa Francesca
before that boy will
amount to
anything,? Mama
said of my first love.
She was right, of course.
I smile as I remember, sip
a glass of my brother
Bernardo?s best red and
stare out over the long
lines of the olive grove.
Another November
harvest brought home in
time for the feast of Santa
Francesca. This year we
have had to hurry because
there really is a forecast for
snow. I wonder what Mama
would say.
It has never happened in
all the years I have helped
to harvest the olives on my
family?s estate in Tuscany.
My brother blames
global warming for the
change in this year?s
weather. He may be right,
but I think Nature just likes
to keep us on our toes.
It is so silent on the land
now the pickers have gone:
like a valley in a vacuum
with all sound sucked out.
Early evening mist wisps
between the tree lines like
a tender white blanket of
cotton wool. But soon this
valley will be filled with
music, flaming torches and
the shouts of people
following the plaster figure
of Santa Francesca up to
church to give thanks for
another olive crop.
My brother, like our
father and grandfather
before him, will present an
offering of first-pressed oil
to the saint on her station
near the altar. Prayers will
be said and hymns will be
sung. Then we will party.
Always it has been so.
Phillip fell in love with our
landscape and traditions
before he fell in love with
me. Or so he said.
But then he was a
star-struck English student
in Tuscany for the first
time; I was the pretty and
naive little waitress serving
him his cappuccino.
And in 1968 the world
somehow seemed a simpler
but much bigger place . . .
* * * *
?What?s your name?? he
asked in badly accented
Italian.
?Katerina,? I said,
blushing at his brazen look
of admiration.
I fell in love
with Phillip
here, despite
Mama?s
warnings . . .
?Like the saint??
I chuckled.
?Everyone in Italy is named
for a saint.?
?That?s true.?
He laughed and it made
his face look kindly so I
found myself smiling.
?My name is Phillip,? he
said. ?I think he was a saint,
too. Do you live here in San
Savino, Katerina??
I didn?t know why, but I
liked the sound of my name
in his mouth.
I shook my head.
?No, I don?t live in town.
The restaurant belongs to
my aunt. My parents live in
the country, and I am
staying with them for the
summer.?
I saw Aunt Antonia staring
at us with sharp suspicion. I
turned my back in irritation.
SHORT STORY BY LYDIA JONES 5
?I am a student at the
University of Siena,? I
explained with probably
too much pride.
For reasons I couldn?t
explain, I wanted this
beautiful blond-haired
British boy to know that I
was not simply a waitress. I
was rewarded with another
flicker of admiration in his
deep blue eyes.
?And what do you study??
Was he making fun of me?
?Art,? I replied. ?One day
I am going to be a teacher
of art in Florence.?
My secret ambition; I had
never given voice to the
words before because I was
only too aware of my
family?s disapproval. I
wondered why I had spoken
them now to this stranger.
?That?s brilliant.? His
smile was warm. ?I?m a
student, too: Economics
and Italian. But my Italian
isn?t all that good ? sorry.?
As I rushed to reassure
him, Aunt Antonia
appeared at my shoulder.
?Katerina, there are
customers waiting.?
I felt the heat rush to my
face, furious at this
humiliation.
?Sorry,? I said, more to
Phillip than my aunt.
?No, I?m sorry.? He turned
to Aunt Antonia. ?I?m sorry
to detain your staff, but I
was wondering whether
you?d be able to cater for
groups at all??
He was wrong about his
Italian: it was fluent, if
heavily accented. I saw a
greedy gleam illuminate my
aunt?s face at the mention
of group business.
?I?m working here as a
tour guide for the summer,
you see.?
I could not be certain,
and afterwards I thought
perhaps I?d imagined it, but
he seemed to wink in my
direction.
?I?m looking for
somewhere to bring my
guests for lunch and you
have such a lovely view
over the valley.?
With a flick of her
bejewelled fingers my aunt
dismissed me while she
turned her attention to
Phillip. I picked up my tray.
?Hopefully I?ll see you
soon, Katerina.? He smiled
at me and something odd
and fluttery ? a feeling I
had never experienced
before ? began in my
stomach.
It stayed with me, that
feeling. Back home at the
farm that night I lay staring
at the stone wall of my
bedroom in sleepless
confusion and hoped very
much that the young
Englishman would return.
Phillip was true to his
word. The following week
he came back with a coach
party of mainly elderly
Americans who wanted to
photograph everything and
have their coffee watered
down.
?You know we invented
this coffee especially for
you.? I laughed at a matron
heaping sugar into her cup.
?The Americano.?
?Well, that?s right
hospitable of you, I?m sure,
honey. But it?s still a bit
strong for me.?
As I weaved between the
tables with platefuls of
pizza and pasta for his
guests, I did get the chance
of snatched conversation
with Phillip.
He told me how he?d
always wanted to come to
Tuscany because his father
had been here in the war.
?In spite of everything he
always spoke about the
beauty of Tuscany ? it?s
what he wanted to
remember of that time.
?From when I was a little
kid he talked about it;
that?s what made me want
to learn Italian, I suppose.?
?I?m glad you did,? I said,
then blushed at my own
boldness.
Phillip paid my aunt in
cash, which she stowed in
her money belt, shaking his
hand firmly and flicking him
a stern little nod of thanks.
?You see,? I began,
watching him walk away,
smiling and chatting with
his guests. ?He said he
would come back and he
did. He?s nice.?
?He?s good for business,?
Aunt Antonia replied. ?But
don?t you go giving him silly
smiles and getting stupid
ideas in your head. He?s still
a foreigner.?
?I thought we liked the
British because of what
happened in the war.?
?When they helped us get
rid of the Nazis we were
glad. We were grateful.?
?We were grateful. So??
?Some girls were far too
grateful,? she said darkly.
?And the soldiers didn?t
stick around to share their
shame.?
?Aunt Antonia, that was
over twenty years ago.
Things are different now.?
?Some things never
change.?
Phillip came with
customers a few more
times.
?Do you ever get a day
off?? he asked one
afternoon. ?I thought
maybe we could meet up.
Have a proper conversation
without serving customers.?
He gave a nervous laugh.
welcome to take lunch with
us on Sunday.?
He nodded in that
decision-made fashion of his
and ignored Mama?s
furiously flashing dark eyes.
I groaned.
?It will be a disaster.?
But it wasn?t.
Phillip brought flowers for
Mama, who tried not to
smile but was betrayed by
the twitching of her lips as
she turned to put the
blooms in water.
For Papa he brought a
bottle of our local liqueur,
which also went down well
with my brother and my
uncles who had come to
lunch with their families.
In 1968 the world seemed a
simpler but much bigger place
I loved that he seemed
unsure of himself.
The fluttery feeling inside
me, which was never far
away when Phillip visited,
became frantic. Without
thinking I splayed fingers
across my stomach to quell
it and swallowed hard.
?Sunday. I get Sunday
off.?
?What do you say? Shall
we meet for dinner or
something??
?I?ll have to ask,? I said,
feeling like a five-year-old
and full of rage at the
indignity of it.
?Of course.?
He looked embarrassed
and I wanted Aunt
Antonia?s terrace to crack
open and consume me.
It is difficult to imagine
the formality of an Italian
country family back then.
Even to me, who
experienced it first hand, it
seems ridiculous to
remember.
Mama said no.
?This isn?t the nineteenth
century!? I shrieked in
anger and frustration.
?You?re treating me like a
child, and it?s an insult to a
good customer of the
family?s restaurant.?
That was what swung it.
The comment got Papa?s
attention.
?You can tell this young
man he may come here.
You will not meet him in
town unchaperoned, but as
a valuable customer he is
Bernardo made fun of
Phillip?s Italian accent, but
when talk turned to
economics and Phillip began
to speak about how, in the
future, family farms like ours
would be able to find new
markets for our oil abroad, I
noticed Bernardo poured
Phillip another drink and did
not make fun of him any
more.
And all the time Phillip?s
eyes sought mine, and when
he smiled at me across the
table my insides turned to
pulp just like our olives
under the millstone.
He came many times to
lunch before he was invited
to dinner. Each time we had
a chance for a few moments
of private conversation.
He did not speak words of
love to me then: there was
not privacy enough for that.
But as he sat and talked
with my father and my
uncles his eyes would soften
when he looked at me and
my stomach would melt
away.
I knew Phillip understood
that this was the way things
had to be with a decent girl
from an Italian country
family. But I wondered why
he was making the effort
when he would be gone in
September.
The thought of that made
my heart grow cold.
The dinner was no
different from the many
lunches. The long table
was set up in the
6
central courtyard and
covered with crisp white
cloths.
Hot, fresh, creamy pasta
was followed by one of
Mama?s traditional Tuscan
stews, mopped up with soft
sweet bread.
Perhaps a little more wine
flowed. And perhaps it was
because of that my papa
relaxed his guard and
Phillip and I got the chance
to walk on the terrace.
It was near midnight. In
true Tuscan tradition,
Mama?s main course had
not been served till after
ten and had taken time to
consume as conversation
flowed as freely as my
papa?s best reds.
Phillip and I followed the
line of the balustrade, our
eyes adjusting to the
darkness which covered the
terrace and the valley
below like a soft black
cloak.
On a distant ridge the
lights of Castelnuovo
winked across the valley,
but all else was inky
stillness.
As we weaved between
Mama?s potted lemon trees
Phillip reached for my hand.
?How long has your family
farmed here??
?I don?t know.? I
shrugged. ?For as long as
anyone can remember,
these slopes have been
Rinaldi land. I do not think
my father or his father
knows.
?Some say the land once
belonged to the church, but
it was bought by the
Rinaldis when the Vatican
was bankrupted by the
Thirty Years? War. But that
could be just a story.?
I knew I was babbling. It
was as if I needed to keep
talking to combat the
tingling sensation spreading
up from our joined hands
and swamping my body.
?Katerina.? He tugged me
to a halt, turning me to face
him. ?I have to tell you, I ??
The scent of rosemary
rushed up from the pathway
below. I felt as if I couldn?t
breathe as I looked up into
his night-shadowed face.
?I think ? no.? He shook
his head. ?I know. If I told
you I?d fallen in love with
you would that be a bad
thing to do??
My hand reached up to
stroke his cheek.
?No.? I smiled. ?That would
be a very good thing.?
Then, serenaded by night
crickets on the edge of my
parents? terrace, we shared
our first kiss.
Even in the blackness I
could see the gleam of his
grin as we pulled apart.
?Do you think we could
have dinner together?? he
asked. ?Just you and me??
?I don?t know. Papa ??
?I was thinking we could
go to your aunt?s
restaurant. They?d allow
that, wouldn?t they??
I smiled at his eagerness.
?You want to have dinner
with Aunt Antonia sitting
between us??
?She would be too busy.?
He chuckled. ?She?d never
let the business suffer
because of having to
chaperone you.?
It was my turn to laugh.
?How well you know her.
But yes, I think maybe they
would allow us that, as long
as you don?t mind having
dinner in the beam of Aunt
Antonia?s searchlight gaze.?
?I think I could cope.? He
seemed as excited as a
child. ?I?ll go now to say
goodbye and I?ll ask.?
He kissed me again and I
remember feeling that the
two of us had melded
together, with each other
and the summer darkness.
?You are a foolish girl.?
Mama?s voice ambushed
me from the shadows once
Phillip had gone. I started
like a rabbit flushed out
from field grass.
?You think this boy loves
you??
Shock and anger gave me
a voice.
?You followed us? How
dare you??
?Just because your father
cannot see what happens in
his own home doesn?t mean
I do not. Don?t be a fool,
Katerina. This boy is a
foreigner ? he does not
understand our ways.?
?If he didn?t understand
our ways, why would he
listen to Papa and my
uncles talk on and on about
olives and wine? He knows
about family.?
?Does he??
Her tone was sharp. In
spite of my defiance my
stomach pitt-patted with
nerves. Mama?s displeasure
was not to be
underestimated.
?If he understands so well,
he would know to leave you
be.?
I turned to walk away but
Mama moved into my path.
Her expression was soft
and her words when they
came were gentle.
?He is a decent man. You
are right. Otherwise he
would not come here like
this. But Katerina, there will
be snow for Santa
Francesca before that boy
will amount to anything.?
?You can?t say that.?
?I can. In any way that
matters he will amount to
nothing.?
?You mean he has no land
like my cousin, Alberto, or
our neighbours? boys,
Ferdinand and Marco ??
?All fine men.?
I frowned.
?I do not want to marry
for the land my husband
has just because it is
tradition. This is a modern
world now. That terrible
war changed everything.?
?He has asked to marry
you??
Ignoring my arguments,
Mama got straight to the
point. I was silent because I
could not give the correct
answer.
?I thought not.? She
nodded. ?Just don?t make a
fool of yourself.?
She reached out for my
shoulder but I shrugged her
off and ran back to my
room with tears blurring the
familiar pathway.
But Papa agreed to the
dinner.
Perhaps it was the wine;
perhaps it was because it
would be at the family?s
restaurant. Whatever the
reason, a few days later we
were sitting at one of Aunt
Antonia?s terrace tables
overlooking the lights of Val
di Chiana and sharing our
first private dinner.
Of course, that first time,
Papa came on to the
terrace to fetch me home at
ten, which was
embarrassing. But Phillip
just laughed and so did I.
Many other dinners
followed and, young as I
was, I knew that I had given
my heart to this softly
spoken English boy with
golden hair and eyes the
colour of a Tuscan sky.
September?s end loomed
like a thundercloud on our
horizon and so came the
dinner I?d been dreading.
?I heard from the office
yesterday.? Phillip pushed
pasta around his plate.
?Next week?s group will be
the last one. The later tour
dates haven?t sold: it?s the
end of the season.?
My gnocchi turned to
boulders in my throat.
?So soon??
?This isn?t the end for us,
Katerina. I will come back.?
But even as I found a
brave smile for him, tears
slid down my cheeks
because I knew that he
would not.
* * * *
?Still here, my love?? My
husband joins me on the
terrace.
?Just remembering.?
I smile and turn into his
embrace.
Phillip?s Italian is
accentless nowadays, but
my brother Bernardo still
likes to tease him, because
in this close-knit community
he will always be a
foreigner.
Mama was right: in terms
of land ownership and
farming he never amounted
to anything.
He lectures in Economics
at the University of Siena
where I once studied, and
where there are now many
international students on
courses taught in English.
Phillip is in great demand. I
still teach art as I always
wanted to do.
Next summer it will be 50
years since that kiss on this
terrace.
Phillip came back that
first year to help with the
family?s olive harvest, and
we have returned together
every November since ?
first with our children and
now with our grandchildren.
One season following the
other in timeless Tuscan
tradition.
?Come.? He squeezes my
arm. ?We must hurry. The
procession is already
starting.?
As we turn from the
terrace to join the line of
villagers snaking uphill
behind the plaster figure of
Santa Francesca, snowflakes
begin to fall from the
starless night sky. n
loving
This week we?re
Jazz Time
Feed The Birds
Now is the time to make sure our
feathered friends have sufficient food for
the colder days ahead. Check out the
selection from www.boxwild.com which
includes gift packs ? the perfect present
for a bird lover.
Beat The Chill
?Hot Drinks? has 25 warming recipes
for cold days including milky drinks,
hot chocolates, coffees, mulled
drinks and toddies ? beats a teabag
in a cup any day! Published by
Ryland, Peters and Small, �99.
Alamy.
Our home town will be alive to the
sound of music as the Dundee Jazz
Festival returns from November
15-19, taking place in a host of
interesting venues. Details available
at www.jazzdundee.co.uk.
BITS & PIECES 7
Pretty Flamingo
Brighten up a grey day with this
gloriously pink flamingo umbrella which
comes with its own stand. Priced at
�.99, it can be ordered from
www.prezzybox.com.
Happy Birthday
This week we send greetings to the
lovely Anne Hathaway. The actress
who enchanted us as Fantine in the
film of ?Les Miserables? is thirty-five
on November 12.
Pick Poppies
Mark Remembrance Day with this lovely
poppy mug from the Imperial War
Museum?s fantastic range of gifts. You
can order from www.iwmshop.org.uk,
price �
Doctor In The House
Sleep Well
See spots before your eyes with
Matalan?s new range of spotty
pyjamas and gifts for all the family
? and the dog! All proceeds go to
Alder Hey Children?s Charity and
prices start at just �
Details correct at time of going to press.
Personally Speaking
The Faroe Islanders have created their
own answer to Google Translate with
www.faroeislandstranslate.com. Type in
a phrase and soon a video of a local will
appear speaking your words in Faroese
? how?s that for the personal touch?
Amazingly,
there have
been eight
series of ?Doc
Martin?. You
can view the
entire
collection now
in a DVD box
set or settle
for just Series
8, which has
also been
released. Both
are available
now from the usual outlets.
Exeter
Exploring
This
week?s
cover
feature
Photographs by Pat Coulter.
Pat Coulter spends a day in this
beautiful cathedral city.
I
?VE whizzed by many
times along the M5
towards the West Country
but never actually
considered making the
easy detour to explore the
historic city of Exeter,
renowned for its cathedral
and campus.
Poppy dog and I are more
country gals than streetwise
kids on the block. But a
friend has offered a few
useful tips for an
introductory day trip she
guarantees we?ll love.
The early morning mist is
lifting its veil from the
beautiful countenance of
the River Exe, revealing
myriad bejewelled water
droplets on the wildflower
garden.
Yes, we really are in
Exeter, barely a 10-minute
stroll from the city centre.
We?ve come to Cricklepit
Mill on Exeter?s Historic
Quay, home to the Devon
Wildlife Trust.
Schoolchildren are
excitedly bug hunting
amongst the bee- and
butterfly-friendly blooms.
Freshwater shrimps wriggle
in the mill leat, an idyllic
spot which often lures those
masterful anglers of the bird
world, kingfishers, to perch
Cathedral Green is a lively social hub.
patiently, waiting for a bite.
Even the Wildlife Trust
office roof is wildlifefriendly, cosily insulated in a
colourful sedum roof.
The wooden water wheel
still turns, grinding sunripened corn into the softest
flour as fine as talcum
powder.
Inside the mill, amongst
the clatter of trundling cogs,
the interpretive area with
computer technology
reveals Cricklepit?s history.
The earliest known mill
here was built in the 13th
century ? around the same
time that Exeter acquired a
mayor and a cathedral. It
was the Devon countryside
that brought prosperity to
urban Exeter, thanks to its
sheep and the quality of
their wool.
In the 18th-century
Cricklepit had more than
one water wheel as it was
also a fulling mill, producing
woollen cloth by pounding
it with water-driven
hammers.
Alongside was the drying
house in the shadow on the
ancient city wall where the
wool was stretched out on
tenterhooks. We all know
Factfile
THIS WEEK?S COVER FEATURE 9
n Exeter has a warren of
underground passages to
explore, built in the 14th
and 15th centuries to bring
a supply of fresh drinking
water into the city. Before
donning hard hats for a
25-minute subterranean
guided tour, visitors
venture through an
interpretation centre
packed full of interactive
displays, including a talking
figure of a mediaeval man
and a high-speed video
fly-through of the hidden
subterranean world.
n Exeter University has a
host of famous alumni,
including writer
J.K. Rowling, who read
French and Classics here in
the mid-1980s, Zara
Tindall (nee Phillips), the
Cricklepit Mill is home to
the Devon Wildlife Trust.
what that means. Imagine
how anxious the poor cloth
merchant must have felt!
I?m already falling for the
beguiling character of Exeter
city.
Before moving on, there?s
plenty to explore right here
on the quayside with its
restaurants, pubs, craft
shops and quirky coffee
bars.
The River Exe provides a
softness to the surrounding
urban hard landscaping,
with its flow of
sympathetically designed,
low-rise apartment blocks
The Custom House on the Quay.
and architectural bridges.
The river also provides an
arterial link with the heart of
the Devon countryside and
offers the opportunity for a
pleasing variety of leisure
pursuits. Already there?s a
group of canoeists paddling
about sociably beside an
unflappable pair of swans.
I notice less intrepid foot
passengers popping across
the river on Butts Ferry.
Well, it?s more floating
bridge really, hand-pulled by
the ferryman, who must
have biceps like Popeye.
Other trippers are queuing
to take a scenic cruise
downriver.
Saddles and Paddles, just
as the name suggests, is the
perfect place to get kitted
out for an ?on yer bike?
experience or perhaps some
duck-like paddling on the
water.
It?s here I come across
Kevin and Joyce choosing
their hire bikes for the day.
?Exeter really suits us as a
touring base for our long
weekends in south Devon,?
Kevin explains, adjusting his
saddle.
?We regularly come down
by train from Birmingham.
There?s all the convenience
of staying in a city centre
hotel and yet easy access to
the countryside without
having to use a car.
?We both enjoy
birdwatching and can cycle
from here on the network of
dedicated routes along the
river down towards
Topsham and even
Exmouth.?
?We also love heading
along the west bank of the
Exe estuary towards Dawlish
Warren. There?s a couple of
fantastic nature reserves,?
Joyce adds before they
pedal off on their latest
outing.
Along the quayside I go
underneath the arches into
what were originally
Queen?s eldest
granddaughter and
Olympic Three-day Event
medal winner, who
qualified in Equine Science
(Physiotherapy), and ?Pop
Idol? inaugural winner Will
Young, who studied
Politics.
n Renowned Michelin-star
chef Michael Caines was
born in Exeter. He is part
owner of the Royal
Clarence Hotel (Abode) in
his native city. Having
trained at Exeter Catering
College, he became Head
Chef at Gidleigh Park Hotel
in Devon. He lost his right
arm in a car crash in 1994,
a disability which he has
overcome to become one
of the most successful in
his culinary profession.
warehouses for storing
wine, imported from distant
shores, and wool, of course.
Nowadays these
hideaways have been
craftily transformed into an
array of independent little
retail outlets where talented
local artisans showcase their
wares.
Above the quayside lies
grandiose Colleton Crescent,
a splendid row of Georgian
mansions, testament to the
wealth generated in this
port area in days gone by.
The fine properties seem
to gaze down haughtily
from their superior sash
windows on the humble,
windowless warehouses
below.
At the head of the
cobbled quay lies the
Custom House, built in
1680 at the height of
Exeter?s woollen cloth
boom. It?s a handsome,
red-brick building of
considerable stature and
military-style bearing,
guarded by fearsome
cannons, and entry is free.
Inside is just as grand with
a sweeping staircase and
ornate plasterwork ceilings.
The history and
development of Exeter?s
Quayside is brought to life
with lively displays,
illustrations and artefacts
charting Exeter through two
millennia from Roman
times to the present
day.
10
?You can join one of
our Exeter Red Coat
guided walking tours from
here,? the Visitor Centre
receptionist suggests. ?The
tours are not dog-friendly,
though; only guide dogs
are permitted.?
Happily, there?s an array
of leaflets on hand for all
manner of themed city
walks from Mediaeval
Exeter to the City Wall Trail.
We make our way to the
cathedral. The spacious
Cathedral Green is still
undoubtedly the alfresco
social hub of what was
once the heart of
mediaeval Exeter.
Here students gather,
Exeter
Cathedral
with its
soaring
Gothic
architecture.
mingling with tourists taking
selfies against the
magnificent cathedral with
its soaring Gothic
architecture.
I didn?t think I?d be
walking in Sir Francis
Drake?s footsteps, but if the
guidebooks are to be
believed then that?s just
what I?m doing outside
Mol?s Coffee House. Bet he
wouldn?t have had a
cappuccino here, though.
It?s claimed that famous
seafarers such as Drake,
Raleigh and Hawkins would
meet here in the upper
oak-panelled room,
discussing their exploits.
Mol?s is a striking half-
Getting there
By Road:
Choose the
M5 for links
from Bristol,
Cardiff,
Birmingham
and all points
along the M4 corridor to
London. The A30/A303/M3
offer alternative scenic
routes from London and the
south-east.
Park & Ride:
Three park and ride sites
are conveniently located
around Exeter. All routes
and buses are colour coded
so you can easily pick the
right service for you.
By Bus:
The National Express and
the Megabus both offer
regular services to Exeter?s
main coach station.
timbered building with a
fa鏰de built to emulate an
Elizabethan galleon.
It?s in a prime position,
overlooking the Cathedral
Green, sandwiched
between St Stephen?s
church and Hanson?s Tea
House where I?m enjoying
an alfresco cuppa and
pastry.
Poppy is under the table
hoping I?ll drop a crumb or
two. It?s the perfect spot to
enjoy the best view of the
cathedral, surrounded by
an array of old properties,
many of which were
ecclesiastical buildings and
still belong to the church
to this day.
By Train:
Exeter has a number of
train stations including St
David?s and Central which
are on the mainlines,
meaning easy train travel to
and from the city from other
destinations including
Plymouth, Bristol, London,
Birmingham and Cardiff.
For timetable and fares
and the most up-to-date
travel information visit either
National Rail or Trainline.
Both Mol?s and Hanson?s
were built by the cathedral
authorities.
Mol?s strikingly
distinctive fa鏰de has over
230 intricate panes of
glass, if you care to count.
Its history dates back to
the 14th century.
Here once resided
Annuellars, priests who
attended to the last wishes
of benefactors to the
cathedral, including
comforting relatives and
keeping a candle lit in
remembrance.
Our day trip to Exeter
draws to a close and it?s
one I?m likely never to
forget. n
Want to know more?
The latest Exeter Visitor
Guide can be downloaded
at: www.heartofdevon.
com/exeter
The Custom House Visitor
Centre provides tourist
information, quayside
treasure hunts, an
accommodation booking
service and a gift shop
selling local pottery, replica
maps and a wide range of
local interest books.
Quayside-based Red Coat
Guided Tours also depart
from outside the Centre.
Admission: Free
46 The Quay, Exeter,
EX2 4AN.
Rent a bike for your own two-wheeled adventure!
Tel: 01392 271611
Exeter Red Coat Guided
Tours.
Operating throughout
the year except Christmas
Day and Boxing Day,
these free guided walking
tours are the perfect way
to explore Exeter. No
booking is required ?
simply choose a tour,
meet your Red Coat Guide
and spend 90 minutes
discovering Exeter. Tours
begin outside the Royal
Clarence Hotel in
Cathedral Yard, or from
the Custom House
(Quayside).
MADDIE?S WORLD 13
?The Comrades Arms
was open again at
the weekend?
Photographs courtesy of Maddie Grigg.
T
In her weekly column,
Maddie Grigg shares
tales from her life in
rural Dorset . . .
HERE are six men in
fluorescent yellow
tabards loitering
outside the pub.
They?ve been there
for the past hour, waiting to
get through the door to start
work before the new
tenants move in, although
we don?t know when that
will be.
Last week we said
goodbye to Jim and Tonic at
a party which saw the pub
cellar run dry. And now it?s
down to the Comrades
Arms to fill the gap until the
new people take over.
As planned, we opened
up in the top room of the
village hall on Tuesday
night, to coincide with the
visit from the fish and chip
van. The place was buzzing.
There were people eating
their chips, youngsters
playing pool and a great
deal of chatting, which is
what we?d hoped for.
Then, with the help of a
team of people including Mr
Grigg, Mr Loggins, Nobby
Odd-Job, Mr Costner and
his wife, Whitney, Mr
Brogue Boots and myself, the
Comrades Arms was open
again at the weekend.
My husband tested the
stairlift to make sure it was
working, so the Comrades
Arms was available to all.
As someone suggested, the
stairlift can also be used by
those who might be wobbly
at the end of the evening.
There is much commitment
and enthusiasm in Lush
Places to making this work,
with lots of offers of help and
messages of support from
people all over the village.
There?s even a curry night
planned, with dishes
prepared and served by three
locals famed for their Indian
and Thai cuisine.
We?ve had a high-backed
bar stool donated by Jim and
Tonic, a two-seater leather
sofa and two coffee tables
from Mr Costner and
Whitney, and bags of change
from Mo, the man who
mows the grass.
There?s a shelf at the back
of the room where the wall is
exposed to show the old
stonework that formed part
of the barn that used to be
on this site.
On the shelf are a number
of frames and boards which
reveal something of the
history of the building and
how it all came about.
Village halls are vital hubs
in communities up and
down the country, and if,
like us, your pub is closed,
the hall becomes even more
important.
Ours is used for all sorts
of things, such as exercise
classes, quizzes, WI
meetings, crafting and
quilting workshops, coffee
mornings, dances, wedding
receptions and wakes and
Christmas bazaars.
Looking at one of the
frames on the shelf, I read
that our hall?s origins go
back to 1919, as a meeting
place for the comrades who
fought in World War I.
Originally a barn, it was
converted by the men and
opened as a hall in 1922.
In 1952, the lady of the
manor handed it over to a
group of trustees ?for the
purposes of Physical and
Mental and Recreation and
Recreational, Social, Moral
and Intellectual development
through the medium of
reading recreational rooms,
library, lectures, classes,
recreations and
entertainments or otherwise
as may be found expedient for
the benefit of the parishes . . .
and their immediate vicinity
without the distinction of sex,
nationality, or colour, or of
party political, religious or
other opinions.?
I look around and see all
the activity going on and
wonder if the lady of the
manor would have approved.
I reread the modern-sounding
mission statement and realise
there are a lot of references
to ?recreation? in it.
And just as I do that, the
current lady of the manor
walks up the steps. Not to
complain about the noise, but
to congratulate Mr Grigg on
his enterprise. n
The Comrades
Arms is enjoyed
by everyone in
Lush Places.
SHORT STORY BY JENNY WORSTALL 15
The whole
neighbourhood
was excited over
the news that
Florence?s
husband was to
be decorated . . .
Illustration by Kirk Houston.
A Day Out
In London
P
OWDER BLUE! Just
look at this, Aggie.?
Mrs Florence
Middleton felt the
fabric in her fingers.
?Perfect. That?s your
colour; no doubt about it,?
her friend and neighbour,
Aggie, said.
?Look at the work here;
see these pintucks? It?s
simply beautiful. I think
you?ve found your outfit.?
?Would Madam like to try
the dress and jacket on??
The shop assistant in
Stanley?s, one of
Birmingham?s top
department stores, gestured
to the fitting-room.
In no time at all, Florence
was standing in front of a
large mirror wearing the
exquisite ensemble.
She smiled at herself and
then turned slightly
sideways, this way and that,
catching her reflection in the
mirror behind.
The tiny pleats in the
bodice of the dress were
sewn in a flattering
V-shape, with the skirt
flowing becomingly. The
neat matching jacket fitted
her perfectly.
?Perhaps the skirt should
be adjusted?? the assistant
suggested. ?Madam is quite
petite.?
?Short, you mean??
Florence giggled, which set
Aggie off, too. ?Just under
five foot. I had always
hoped to grow taller,
but . . .?
?The best things come in
small parcels,? Aggie said.
?Thank you!? Florence
said. ?You are a true
friend.?
?If Madam would like to
leave the dress to be
altered we can have it done
very quickly. Do you have a
particular date in mind? A
special occasion??
?Yes. It?s for a certain
event. It?s . . .?
Florence?s voice faltered.
Set
in the
1940
s
Her husband didn?t like her
talking about the ceremony
that was coming up soon at
Buckingham Palace.
Harry said he had only
done what anyone else
would have done, if they
had been put in the same
position.
?Mrs Middleton?s
husband is a war hero!?
Aggie burst out. ?They?re
going to the palace, to Buck
House, for him to get a
medal from the King!?
?What an honour,? the
assistant marvelled. ?And
you?ve chosen your outfit
from our store! Just wait till
I get home to tell me mum
? that is, would Madam like
me to arrange the
alterations??
?That won?t be necessary,
thanks,? Aggie said. ?I?ll do
it for you, Florence, then
you can take it straight
home today.?
?Wonderful.?
Florence?s eyes shone
with excitement, her brain
already mentally scanning
the inside of her wardrobe
for a bag and shoes that
would look good with the
outfit.
?Here, I?ve got my
clothing coupons ready.
You don?t have any hats in
the same colour, do you??
The two women made
their way back to Yardley
Wood Road with the new
purchases in high
excitement.
?Shall I pop over
tomorrow and measure the
hem for you? It won?t take
me long to sew after I?ve
pinned it up. If you choose
which shoes you?re going to
wear, that will help.
?I?ve a pair of black
gloves you might like to
borrow for the big day.
What about my fox fur,
too? That would look a
treat.?
?Yes, please,? Florence
said. ?See you tomorrow,
Aggie.?
* * * *
Florence gave the
children a fashion show on
their return from school.
?I love your hat,
Mummy,? Betty said, ?with
the veil. I?d like to wear one
like that when I?m a
grown-up lady.?
?Will Daddy wear a hard
hat, like the ARP Wardens,?
Peter asked, ?when he goes
to London??
?No,? Harry said as he
strode into the room,
arriving back from work.
?I?m going to look like a toff
in a top hat, tails and stripy
trousers, eh, Florence??
He planted a kiss on his
wife?s cheek.
?No doctor?s clothes,
Daddy?? Betty asked.
?Your father is going
16
to have a whole day off
from being a doctor
when we go to the
palace,? Florence told her.
?You look simply
marvellous in that outfit,?
Harry said to Florence. ?My
beautiful wife.?
Florence could hear the
tiredness in her husband?s
voice under the forced
jollity so she quickly
Florence held Harry in her
arms tenderly.
?Not that time,? she said,
?but many other times. And
later that same evening,
what you did saved a
woman?s life. You made a
difference.?
Harry was thoughtful as
he remembered what had
happened next that night
after his unsuccessful
She wanted to recall every
moment of this occasion
changed back into her
normal clothes.
After tea she hurried the
children up to their rooms
so that Harry could have
some peace and quiet. He
was on call that evening
and would doubtless have
to go out to treat patients.
Almost as soon as she
was out of the room, Harry
fell asleep in his armchair.
* * * *
The pitch-black sky was
lit sporadically by fierce
flashes, the air was torn
with the wails of sirens and
the pounding of antiaircraft guns.
Harry hurried along a
road and could see a
building to his left with a
fire still burning merrily in a
grate, high up on the
second floor, now open to
the cold night sky.
Once he had reported for
duty he was taken to
another street and was
being lifted in a hoist, his
doctor?s bag clutched to
him, high over the wobbly
walls of a ruined house,
then down to the filthy
debris in the middle
covering the cellar
entrance.
He tried to clear the
damage, pulling and
scrabbling at the plaster
and bricks, dust choking
him, but he couldn?t. Voices
were calling out from the
cellar; if only he could clear
this rubble he would be
able to help . . .
?Harry, wake up! You?re
having a dream,? Florence
said, shaking his shoulder.
?It was real,? Harry said.
?I couldn?t get through into
the cellar that time. I
couldn?t help them.?
attempt to treat the
casualties in the cellar.
He was rushed to a house
in Balsall Green where a
woman was lying in bed,
too ill to be moved after
giving birth to twins.
Her house, plus several
neighbouring houses, had
been evacuated due to a
delayed action bomb only
yards away but Harry
stayed with the woman and
treated her until the bomb
was made safe and an
ambulance arrived.
?Think what you did for
that poor soul and her
babies,? Florence said now.
?I?m so proud of you. She
wouldn?t have made it
without you.?
?You always make me
feel better, Florence. Ah,
the telephone?s ringing.
Duty calls.?
Harry stood up.
?Go straight to the
shelter, won?t you, if the
siren sounds. We haven?t
had air raids for a long
time, but I still get worried
about you and little Betty
and Peter.?
?Everything?s ready as
usual,? Florence said. ?It
can be quite jolly in the
shelter, you know. Lots of
songs and jokes.
?Do you remember the
lady in the next road last
spring?
?She was late down to
the shelter because she
couldn?t find her pearl
necklace; said she couldn?t
leave it in the house. What
nonsense!?
Harry laughed heartily. As
he left the house, however,
he offered a silent prayer
for the safety of his own
family that night and for all
the families in Birmingham.
For families everywhere;
for an end to this madness
that was war.
* * * *
The next day Aggie came
round to alter the dress.
?Anything bothering
you?? she asked, kneeling
on the floor with her mouth
full of pins.
?I?m wondering if we?ve
done the right thing,
bringing the children back
to Birmingham.? Florence
sighed. ?I missed them like
mad when they were
evacuated, and it?s so
lovely to have them at
home again. But what if the
bombing starts up again??
?No point dwelling on it.
We?ll cope when and if we
need to.?
?I?m worried about Harry,
too. He gets these
nightmares, you see. Goes
back in time and thinks he
hasn?t done enough.?
?No-one could have done
more,? Aggie said firmly.
?He?s a hero. Remember
the night he lowered himself
head first into a narrow gap
next to a wall about to
collapse, all so that he
could reach a poor
unfortunate woman and
give her a shot of morphia
to ease her pain until she
could be dug out??
?I do. The first I knew
about it was when I read
the account in the paper.?
?No wonder King George
wants to see Harry at Buck
House. Harry?s been on
duty during every single air
raid in Birmingham, on top
of his work as a family
doctor. He must be looking
forward to his day off in
London.?
?He is. Thank you,
Aggie,? Florence said.
?Maybe a little shorter with
the hem on this side, to
even it up? That?s
wonderful.?
?You?ll look like a film
star,? Aggie remarked.
?Wish I could go with you.?
* * * *
In March 1942, Florence,
Harry and his father made
their way to London for
Harry to receive the George
Medal from the King.
?I couldn?t be more proud
of you, son,? Harry?s father
said as they walked into the
palace, ?and I know your
mother would have been,
too, God rest her soul.
Enjoy this break from your
other duties, mind.
?It?s a grand day and
we?ll have a lovely time out
in London after the
ceremony. Doesn?t Florence
look a picture in that outfit?
The colour of hope, of a
beautiful fresh new day.?
Harry lined up with the
other men and women
about to receive awards
and as they moved forward
to be honoured by the
monarch, Florence could
hear the name of each
recipient read out as they
took their place in the
spotlight, one after the
other.
Any minute now, she
thought and my Harry?s
name will be called out. I
must remember this exact
moment so that I can tell
the children and all my
friends and neighbours
precisely what it was like.
The next thing Florence
heard, however, was an
urgent shout.
?Is there a doctor in the
room??
The King had been rather
over-enthusiastic as he had
pinned a medal on a man
about four people in front
of Harry; the pin of the
medal had gone right
through the man?s shirt and
pierced his skin.
At first, all had seemed
well, but as the man turned
to go back to his seat, he
had swayed and crumpled
in a heap as he fainted on
to the floor.
?Is there a doctor?
Anyone here a doctor??
?I am. Let?s have a look,
gently now. Looks as if it
was a bit of a shock;
probably seeing the blood
on his shirt did it. That?s it,
we?ll put him here, flat on
the floor. Yes, he?ll recover
quickly, no doubt . . .?
Posing for a photograph
outside the palace
afterwards, Florence
squeezed Harry?s arm
gently.
?Sorry you didn?t get a
day off after all. Do you
mind??
Harry grinned.
?Of course not. I was glad
to be of service.?
?Smile,? the
photographer said. ?You?ve
just met the King!? n
wellbeing
Health &
Great advice to keep you happy and healthy
Q. I eat dinner in front of the TV most evenings
and my wife says this could be having a negative
effect on my health and digestion. Is she right?
Dr Christy
Fergusson, Food
Psychologist
and Nutritional
Therapist
working with
Grace Say Aloe,
is here to help.
If you spend each evening sitting
in front of the television to eat your
dinner, you will perhaps need a
reboot, but habits can be broken.
Eating while you?re distracted by
In The News
iStock.
Pop To The Shops
Physiotherapists have warned
that the popularity of online
shopping could be responsible
for increasing incidences of
muscle weakness and joint
injuries as we miss out on the
cardiovascular impact of regularly
popping to the shops.
We are also apparently missing
out on the muscle-strengthening
effect of carrying heavy bags ?
even from the trolley to the car
and then into the home.
Our growing reliance on home
delivery is apparently stripping us
of the vital muscle-strengthening
exercises which used to keep us
fit and healthy in old age,
preventing potentially serious
falls and other health issues. So
why not nip to the local shops
more often ? it?s good for you!
the television can be a disaster for
your waistline as research shows it can
lead to overeating. One study found
that those eating while watching TV
ate 36% more pizza and 71% more
macaroni and cheese.
It?s good to step away from your
television and sit at a proper dining
table, if possible, as it helps you to
focus on what you?re eating, allowing
you to savour and enjoy your food. By
practising mindful eating, you will eat
less and finish your meal feeling more
satisfied. It?s also great socially, as you
can catch up on all your family?s news.
Did You Know?
If you are aiming to avoid
gluten for health reasons, look
out for the following foods
where you might least expect to
find it:
? beer
? breaded/battered food
? tinned baked beans
? ham, sausages, salami
? frozen chips
? gravy
? instant hot drinks
? ketchup
? malt vinegar
? packet soups
? Marmite
? Quorn products
? stock cubes
Health Bite
Cumin is a deliciously scented herb which
spices up Mexican, Spanish, Middle Eastern
and Indian dishes and is known to have
potent anti-inflammatory and antioxidant
properties.
Studies suggest it could help diabetics
control their insulin levels and some believe
it might even have a role in fighting cancers.
In seed or powder form, cumin is a good
source of iron, manganese and other
vitamins and minerals. Use it as a rub on
meats, or mix with other herbs for an
intensely flavourful seasoning base. With its
depth of flavour it is also great in soups ? try
it with butternut squash for a warming
autumnal dish.
HEALTH 19
Relax To Mozart
Numerous studies show a
direct emotional link between
music and relaxation, with
classical music consistently
proving it really can lower stress
while driving feelings of
relaxation, resulting in a positive
state of mind and lifting mood.
A recent study from India found
that individuals who regularly
listened to music had lower
blood pressure and experienced
less stress than other people who
had otherwise healthy lifestyles.
Fill your day with music as
much as possible, and consider
using gentle tunes at night to
relax just before sleep.
A gentle
skincare
regime can
help
Living With Rosacea
H
Our Health
Writer, Colleen
Shannon,
explains this
common skin
condition.
AVING a skin condition can sound
like a minor annoyance ? unless
you are the person who is living
with it.
It?s even more difficult when other
people do not understand the condition,
and make assumptions about your
lifestyle based on the way you look.
People with rosacea, which can affect
the skin in several different ways, might
find themselves in this situation. Although
it?s common, most people don?t know
much about it.
To learn more about rosacea, I asked
Consultant Dermatologist Dr Walayat
Hussain of the British Association of
Dermatologists.
He explained that rosacea is a common
rash that mainly appears on the cheeks,
forehead, chin and nose. It is most likely
to affect middle-aged people and those
with fair skin. It is more common in
women, but in men the symptoms tend
to be more severe.
One of the early signs is a tendency to
blush easily. After a while, the skin in the
middle of the face becomes a permanent,
deeper shade of red. Small dilated blood
vessels appear.
The skin can be studded with small red
bumps and pus-filled spots that come and
go in crops. Fortunately, they do not
usually leave scars.
Sometimes, an overgrowth of the skin?s
oil-producing glands may cause the nose
to become enlarged, bulbous and red.
This is called rhinophyma, and it is more
common in men than in women.
The skin on the face can become
sensitive, sting or feel hot.
The emotional effects, due to a change
in appearance, may be the most troubling.
Some people end up feeling embarrassed,
losing their self-confidence and selfesteem. Anxiety or depression may follow.
Rosacea can also affect the eyes, causing
them to feel red, itchy and sore. They
might feel gritty and sensitive to light. A few
people can develop painful eye
complications that threaten their vision.
Painful eyes or blurred vision, in
particular, are warning signs. In any
situation, if you have an eye problem you
should see a doctor quickly.
We don?t know what causes rosacea, but
there are triggers that cause inflammation
and make the blood vessels in the face
dilate more readily. So it helps to keep a
diary and see what sets this off, and then
try to avoid those situations as much as
you can.
Common triggers include alcohol,
caffeine, spicy foods, getting hot and
sunlight (so wearing suncream every day
can help).
Your GP can usually diagnose rosacea
without any tests and can offer treatment
to help with many of the symptoms.
Depending on your symptoms, this might
include a cream to put on your face, or
antibiotics. They can also recommend a
gentle skincare routine.
Laser therapy can help with redness and
dilated blood vessels, though it is not
always available on the NHS. If you go
private for rosacea treatment, please make
sure you see a qualified dermatologist.
To learn more, visit the British
Association of Dermatologists website at
www.bad.org.uk to read their patient
information leaflet on rosacea. You?ll also
find information on a range of other skin
conditions. n
Shaken Or Stirred
If the thought of taking
essential daily supplements
means too many tablets to add
to a steadily building pile, try the
new YoGo range of
multivitamins, glucosamine (for
joint health), probiotics (with
two billion live cultures), omega
3s and plant sterols which all
come in ?on-the-go? mini
sachets in a variety of flavours.
Simply sprinkle over cereals or
tip into milk and shake (or stir!)
for a deliciously nutritious yogurt
drink.
Twenty sachets with a fun
glass bottle shaker cost �.99
from www.healthspan.co.uk.
We are unable to offer individual advice to readers. Please see your own GP if you have a medical problem.
Blessings
From
Above
SHORT STORY BY WENDY CLARKE 21
Father Albert hoped his sermon
would help some of his flock. But
he?d reckoned without Violet . . .
Illustration by iStock.
F
ATHER ALBERT
stood at the lectern
and looked out at
the congregation.
The faces were ones
he?d got to know well since
moving to Barlow Green.
He let his voice carry to
the back, where the
Norman font squatted ? a
font that had seen many of
these people?s children and
grandchildren christened
over the two years he?d
been here as vicar of
St James?s church.
?Our sermon today is
about truth.?
The word ?truth? came
out louder than he?d
meant, echoing around the
stone walls as if in
accusation. Clearing his
throat, Albert looked down
at his notes.
Although the subject
matter was something he
felt strongly about, his
sermon, in all honesty, had
been written in rather a
hurry the night before.
On the page in front of
him were headings.
Marriage, Family,
Community.
?Without truth,? he
began, ?marriages fall
apart, families disintegrate
and communities become
places of mistrust.?
Wasn?t that what he?d
learned in the four years
he?d spent as curate in
north London? A place as
far removed from this
village, with its duck pond
and thatched roofs, as was
imaginable.
?How many times have
you lied today?? He leaned
across the lectern to give
emphasis to his words. ?Be
honest. Who can, hand on
heart, say they haven?t??
There was silence in the
pews and the congregation
shifted in their seats. Some
fiddled with their hymn
books while others looked
down at their hands. On
one side of the church he
saw Doris Aldways glance
at her husband and look
away again.
?It?s human nature,? he
continued. ?Some people
stretch the truth in order to
feel important. Others to
make their lives seem more
interesting.?
He could see Michael
Bodkins out of the corner of
his eye. The old fellow liked
to tell people he?d been a
wartime spy, which was
unlikely considering he was
only seventy-six.
Albert also knew that Ann
Keating?s claim that she?d
been a model referred to a
picture in a catalogue when
she was twelve.
As he continued with his
sermon, few of the small
congregation met his eye.
They seemed more
interested in the rather
garish flower arrangement
that stood to the left of the
altar, or the stained-glass
window depicting Jesus and
a flock of sheep. Only Violet
Lessing looked his way, her
pale-blue eyes fixing his.
?We talk about tall
stories and white lies as
though giving them height
or colour deflects from what
they are. But in the eyes of
God these are still lies.
?So, from now on, be
brave. Tell the truth and
God will rejoice with you.?
Albert stood back from
the lectern and smiled,
signalling that he had come
to the end of his sermon.
He felt it had gone well,
considering how
unprepared he?d been. But,
as he stepped down from
the lectern, he saw Violet?s
eyes were still on him.
Since his first day at
St James?s the elderly
woman had made it her job
to put him straight on all
parish matters. If it hadn?t
been for her he would never
have known about Michael
Bodkins? drinking problem,
that Ann Keating?s third
husband had just walked
out or that Tamsin Ashurst
had been adopted by the
Tulleys, who owned the
corner shop, after ten years
spent in care.
He smiled and nodded to
Violet and she inclined her
head a fraction in return.
Picking up his notes,
Albert went towards the
front door of the church,
but as he moved down the
aisle Violet stepped out in
front of him.
?Good morning, Violet,?
he said. ?Is there something
I can help you with??
?I was rather thinking it is
me who can help you.?
?Is it??
?Yes, Father Albert, I
think so.?
She picked up her
handbag and tucked it
under her arm.
?I know you won?t think
me out of line if I give you a
word of advice, Father.?
?Of course not, Violet.
What did you want to say??
?It?s about your sermon.?
Violet looked behind her to
check that no-one was
listening. ?When I was a
child, my mother taught me
that telling the truth was
important.?
?That?s what I said this
morning, wasn?t it??
Violet sat down and
indicated for Albert to do
the same.
?She also taught me that,
in doing so, it was
important not to hurt
anyone?s feelings.?
Albert went to speak but
Violet held up a hand.
?What do you think of
that flower arrangement??
She pointed to the purple
and orange display to the
left of the altar.
?Well, it is rather . . .?
?Come on, Father
Albert, spit it out.
What you?re trying to
SERIES BY MALCOLM WELSHMAN: PART 11 OF 30 23
say is that it?s pretty
hideous.?
?You think so, too??
?Of course. We all do. It?s
just that we would never
tell Anne that. She thinks
her flower-arranging skills
are second to none. In fact,
she thinks it?s the only
thing she?s good at, and I
didn?t have the heart to tell
her otherwise.?
?So what did you tell
her??
?Just that the
arrangement was like no
other I?d seen before, and
that the twigs she?d
sprayed gold perfectly
matched Jesus?s halo in the
east window. The fact is,
Anne is the only person
willing to give it a go, and
for that she should be
applauded.?
Albert felt colour rise up
his neck.
?I never thought of it like
that. And I?ve just gone and
told the whole village to
speak the truth!?
He pictured the answers
Tamsin Ashurst might get if
she questioned her
adoptive parents too
closely about her past, or
the answer Ann Keating
might get if she asked
people why she was so
unlucky in love.
Violet patted him on the
arm, then stood up.
?I?m sure no harm?s
done, but maybe next
Sunday you could continue
with this theme.?
?Of course. Thank you,
Violet. You have been a
great help to me.?
He stood as well and,
together, they walked to
the door. After saying
goodbye, he watched Violet
take the gravel path
between the graveyards.
At the lychgate she
stopped and turned.
?I just wanted to say,?
she called, ?that, despite
what you might think, I
thought your sermon was
good. Yes, you spoke the
words very clearly. I could
hear you right at the back!?
Albert burst out laughing,
then unfolded his sermon
notes and looked at them.
Marriage, Family,
Community.
Next week, he would be
sure to mention something
else that truth could affect
as well. Friendship. n
Discipline is
the key when
it comes to
dogs . . .
T
HEY say that
owners often look
like their pets. I?m
not sure it applies
to me. I?ve always
been fond of Jack Russells.
Short legs, wiry bodies and
sharp snouts, ready to rat.
Well, perhaps there is a
certain likeness.
One of the practice?s
clients certainly looked like
his tortoise, and moved in a
similar manner. Harry
Conville owned a Hermann
tortoise, Tony. Bred in the
UK, his carapace was
yellow-green with black
borders to the scutes on
the shell.
When Harry appeared, it
was as if Tony were
emerging from his
hibernation box, thanks to
the cagoule Harry was
wearing. Strikingly similar
to Tony?s shell, its yellow
front echoed Tony?s
underbelly ? his plastron.
?Tony?s come out of
hibernation too early. I
need you to check him
over.? Harry?s scrawny neck
arched out of the collar of
the cagoule shell.
Coupled with the beaky
nose and scaly patches of
skin under his chin, it gave
Harry a startling
resemblance to his friend.
With Tony given a clean
bill of health, it was just a
question of ensuring he was
kept warm and indoors,
with the use of a heat lamp.
Tony and Harry lumbered
out slowly but happily.
Not the case when I was
confronted by Major
Marshall and his bulldog,
Benjamin ? another pair of
lookalikes. The major was
short and barrel-chested,
and his arms and legs stuck
out like those on a ?Mr
Men? character. A grumpy
one at that.
He had a wrinkled brow,
sagging jowls and a grizzled
upper lip. Just like his
bulldog.
Major Marshall would
announce his arrival in the
waiting room with a loud
command to his bulldog.
?Sit, Ben-ja-min!?
Cats cowered in the back
of their baskets; dogs sank
on their haunches
immediately. But Benjamin,
elbows out, ignored his
master?s order and barked.
This particular afternoon
was no exception. When it
was their turn to be seen,
Major Marshall roared,
?Heel, Ben-ja-min!? before
being forced to drag the
bulldog through to the
consulting room.
Both were foaming at
each end of the lead, both
sending spittle flying in all
directions.
?Always a good thing to
let a dog know who?s
boss,? Major Marshall
declared as Benjamin
pulled him across the room.
?Some people have no idea
of discipline. Can?t control
their dogs.?
Benjamin had by now
wrapped his lead three
times round the nearest
legs, which included two of
the consulting table?s four
and one of mine.
A vigorous jet of urine
was directed up each.
?Control?s the name of
the game,? the major
stated.
I smiled wanly. Control of
Benjamin?s bladder would
certainly have been helpful.
My warm, soggy trouser leg
was proof of that.
Major Marshall fired a
?Sit, Ben-ja-min!? and the
dog promptly shot over to
sniff at the waste bin, while
the consulting table, still
entangled in his lead,
screeched across the tiled
floor behind him.
Lucy rushed in.
Benjamin bounded over,
a ?Down, Ben-ja-min!?
ignored as he leapt at her.
A ?Stay, Ben-ja-min? also
fell on deaf ears when he
tried to follow Lucy as she
backed out of the room.
?Always one for the
ladies,? the major barked.
?So let?s get cracking,
laddie. Get Benjamin?s
vaccination done and
dusted before he makes a
nuisance of himself.
?Now do as you?re told,
Ben-ja-min. Behave.?
The dog crashed into the
consulting room chair. It
flew across the room to hit
the instrument trolley and
scissors and swabs fell off
to scatter across the floor.
I grabbed a syringe to
make up the booster and
drew up the shot from a
vial of vaccine.
The major squared his
shoulders. His ponderous
jowls quivered.
?Ben-ja-min, this won?t
hurt. Be a good boy and
stand still. That?s an order.?
Fat chance of it being
obeyed, I thought as I
advanced on the dog.
The major looked at me.
?Had many a jab during
my time in the Forces. Took
them like a man. Backside,
arm, you name it.? The
major shuffled his feet,
Benjamin?s lead wrapped
round his wrist. ?We?ll not
move. You?ll see.?
I patted Benjamin?s neck
and eased up a pinch of
skin as I knelt beside him.
?Steady, boy,? I
murmured, slipping in the
needle and injecting the
vaccine.
There was not a sound.
Not a muscle moved.
?There. All done,? I said,
getting to my feet, while the
major, having fainted,
crashed to the floor.
More next week.
Brainteasers
Missing Link
BIG
GLASS
FAR
OFF
DAB
CREAM
COMPACT
JOCKEY
BOOK
SANDWICH
TOUCH
PIGEON
BAY
THROUGH
COSMIC
JACKET
AIR
PUNCH
DIE
CHEESE
O
C O A S T C
C
M P T
I
E
A
U
B A R
O R A T I ON
1
U T
P
A B Y
4
L
B A T I
R
I G
B OO L
E E M E X E N
O
L O L E
G
B R
7
E
D I S AG E
T Y
C L A V
U R
E S T I
T
H
G E N C
C
10
ACROSS
1 Talk slightingly of
2 Chill
3 Non?specific
4 Cruise, freewheel
5
6
7
8
9
ACROSS
1 Fall
8
loosely (7)
5 Old Russian
emperor (4) 9
9 Deficiency (7)
10 Will (5)
11 Bed cover (5) 11
12 Give in your
notice (6)
14 Drifting
14
about (6)
16 Colourful
talking bird (6)
18 Division of a
long poem (6)
21
19 Book of
fiction (5)
22
22 Leading (5)
23 Care for
young
24
children
while their
parents are
out (7)
24 Variety of
chalcedony (4)
25 Memo
book (7)
DOWN
2 Gap between
rows of
seats (5)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
10
12
13
15
16
17
18
19
20
23
25
3 Pressurised (11)
4 Gloomy and
cheerless (6)
6 Confident walk (7)
7 Anger, annoy (4)
8 Member of a
rowing crew (7)
10 Conserving
an ecological
balance (11)
With the help of the Across clues only,
can you fit the pieces into their correct
positions in the grid?
H A P P A R I L I
I
C
P
G E P E R I S S
Answers
on p95
Try our quick crossword
Fit ten words into the
grid so each one connects
up with the words on
either side eg - wishing well - done. Read down
the letters in the shaded
squares to spell out a
phrase.
Pieceword
PUZZLES 25
2
3
5
6
8
9
11
12
10 Thin cake of unleavened
Absolved
bread in Asian cookery
Public speech
Gas or water supply company, eg 11 Flowing molten rock
12 Long stick that you would
High worth
not touch something with
Bottomless hole
13 Running or jumping
sportsperson (7)
15 Hit?and?miss
affair (7)
17 Large species of
grass (6)
20 Narrow prospect,
view (5)
21 Thin, crisp, Mexican
pancake (4)
Sudoku
Fill the grid with the numbers
1 to 9 so that each row,
column and 3x3 block
contains the numbers 1 to 9.
9 6
6
5
3
9 7 1
8
2
6 3 1
2
7
6
4
6 4 8
1
4
9 3 7
6
7 4
1
8
All puzzles � Puzzler Media Ltd ?
www.puzzler.com
HERITAGE 27
?Reconciliation is the
most important thing?
Steve Burnett explains how he hopes his violins will
help spread a message of peace.
Photographs by Jane Barlow/Press Association.
T
HIS year sees the
completion of a
remarkable project by
well-respected
professional violin
maker Steve Burnett. One
hundred years ago, in 1917,
the poets Wilfred Owen and
Siegfried Sassoon met ?
along with Robert Graves ?
in mid-October at
Craiglockhart Hospital, now
a part of the Edinburgh
Napier University campus.
It was a treatment centre
for shell-shocked officers.
Here, Sassoon influenced
Owen?s style at a time when
he was just starting to write
about his experiences ? all
of Wilfred Owen?s war
poems were written
between the autumn of
1917 and his death in 1918.
Steve first marked the
poets? connection with the
former hospital in 2014,
creating an instrument from
the branch of a sycamore in
the grounds ? the Wilfred
Owen violin.
Steve, left, with Thoren on the
right at the golf course.
?I was trying to get the
branch for many years
before that! Wilfred Owen
was one of my heroes ? as
a romantic poet as well.?
But it wasn?t until 2014,
when Steve was able to get
his hands on a large branch
from the sycamore, that he
was able to put his plan into
practice ? the year that
coincided with the
centenary of the War?s
beginning.
?Luckily I got the branch at
the beginning of the year.
For making a violin you
must take the wood in
winter time because the sap
is low ? it doesn?t fill up the
pores and have a
detrimental effect on the
sound quality.?
Once finished, the
symbolism of the violin saw
it in high demand,
appearing in an RSC
production in Stratford, then
a memorial to the
Quintinshill Rail disaster,
where over 200 Royal Scots
soldiers were killed on their
way to Gallipoli.
Scottish fiddler Thoren
Ferguson wrote and
performed a piece in
commemoration of this, and
played it in an area the
Scottish Woodland Trust had
set aside just outside
Edinburgh to remember the
soldiers.
Here, 216 small trees
were planted by children
from local schools, one for
each soldier, with Princess
Anne planting the last.
Violinist Maxim Vengerov,
a Unicef Goodwill
Ambassador, endorsed the
violin itself as an envoy for
peace.
?He was taken by what it
stood for. Reconciliation is
the most important thing.
One hundred years on and
the world is still caught up
in terrible conflicts. If these
violins can get out there and
add an extra dimension to
the word peace, it can
maybe help people.?
Steve is a self-taught violin
maker, who had long
known he wanted
something to do with these
beautiful instruments, but
wasn?t sure what.
?I had one chance when I
was ten to play violin in
school, but after a week of
trying my teacher asked me
to hand it back!?
Steve came across a box
of old violin-making tools in
a second-hand shop and
taught himself the trade,
modelling his work on the
great violin makers of Italy
? Stradivarius and Giuseppe
Guarneri.
The remaining two violins,
the Siegfried Sassoon and
Robert Graves, were made
this year to commemorate
the meeting with Owen.
Sassoon had narrowly
avoided a court martial for
anti-war comments in a
letter to ?The Times? ? he
could have faced the firing
squad.
Robert Graves convinced
the authorities he was
suffering shell-shock and he
went to Craiglockhart
instead.
?Wilfred Owen had heard
that this published poet
author, Siegfried Sassoon,
was in the building and
really admired his poetry.
?He knocked on his door
? a humble knock on the
door ? and that moment
heralded one of the most
important literary meetings
of the 20th century.
?So the Siegfried Sassoon
violin was finished from the
same bit of wood as the
Wilfred Owen.?
Now the Robert Graves
violin has been finished and
has completed the set. It
was introduced to the world
on October 13, the
centenary of the day the
three of them played a
round at Edinburgh?s
Baberton Golf Club.
Steve hopes that the set
will continue the work of
the Wilfred Owen violin,
starring at commemorative
events and spreading the
message of peace. n
Visit Steve?s website
at www.
burnettviolins.co.uk
to find out more.
Maura felt so
distant from
everyone at
the party ?
especially her
husband . . .
Beyond
Rubies
Illustration by Helen Welsh.
The Story So Far
ANDREW and LILY
WEST are about to
celebrate their ruby
wedding anniversary
with a ceremony and
party for their friends
and family, since they
missed out the first time
round, when they
eloped.
The Wests? oldest
child, MAURA
RUSHTON, and her
husband, JOHN, have
been having marital
problems. John is always
working, leaving her to
raise their energetic son
DANNY and their sulky
teen CHLOE.
The Wests? son,
SIMON, is a solicitor in
London who longs for
the kind of married life
his parents have
enjoyed, but has no idea
how to go about finding
it. His closest friend is
his assistant, KELLY.
The youngest member
of the family, ANNA,
arrives home from
Australia and will have to
face the reason she ran
halfway around the
world ? her ex-boyfriend
WILL LANGFORD.
Something is bothering
Lily ? she isn?t looking
forward to her party . . .
L
ILY gazed out at the
dawn-misted garden
as she sipped her
coffee and felt the
tension that had
been knotting her stomach
for the last few months
ease slightly.
Her children were home,
her chicks safe in the nest.
It was a definite bright side
to the stress of the party
that loomed tomorrow.
Briefly she closed her
eyes, not wanting to think
about the party now.
She felt a prickle of shame
that she was dreading an
event Andrew cared about
so much. But he?d become
so blinded by arranging this
party that Lily felt he?d lost
sight of what was really
important, and what they
were meant to be
celebrating.
Sometimes, when she
listened to him stew about
the various arrangements,
annoyed with the number
of chairs provided or the
complicated menu, she
wondered what had
happened to the fun,
impulsive go-getter who
had run away with her to
Gretna Green.
?Hey, Mum.? Maura
appeared in the doorway of
the kitchen, offering her
mother a tired smile.
Lily straightened and
smiled, pleased to see her
daughter.
?Hello, darling. Coffee??
?Yes, please.?
Lily rose to get it but
Maura waved her back
down.
?I?ll do it.?
She switched on the
kettle and leaned against
the counter with a sigh.
Lily regarded her with
concern. Maura definitely
seemed more brittle than
usual, lines of strain visible
around her eyes and mouth.
?John got here all right
last night?? Lily had seen
his car in the drive, though
he must have arrived after
she?d gone to bed.
?Yes, he came in around
eleven.? Maura shook her
head. ?I don?t know what
could possibly be so urgent
at work that he has to
spend all hours there.?
?Are things difficult at
work?? Lily didn?t know
what John did, really, only
that he had some middlemanagement-type job in a
large financial corporation.
?They?re not difficult.?
The kettle switched off and
Maura turned around,
busying herself with making
the coffee. ?No more than
SERIAL BY KATE HEWITT: PART 2 OF 3 29
they ever are, I suppose.
John hasn?t said anything,
and I?ve asked.?
Lily didn?t miss the note
of bitterness in Maura?s
voice.
?I just wish he?d be
around a bit more, for me
as well as the children,?
Maura added.
?Chloe?s at a hard age,
isn?t she?? Lily said after a
moment.
Her older grandchild had
been monosyllabic during
supper, then disappeared
into the room she was
sharing with Dan for the
rest of the evening, busy on
her phone.
She hadn?t made eye
contact with Lily once, and
had only cleared her plate,
huffing all the while, when
Maura had rather pointedly
asked her.
Lily missed the days
when, during their regular
visits, Chloe would curl up
on her lap or ask to play
board games. Nana was a
special person, rather than
someone to be ignored. But
she?d always known that
wouldn?t last for ever.
?I wish John would be
home more,? Maura
admitted as she joined her
mother at the kitchen table,
the room now bathed in
early morning light. ?It
almost feels as if he?s
avoiding us on purpose.?
?Surely not, love,? Lily
protested instantly. ?He
adores you and the kids.?
She remembered when
John and Maura had
announced they were
getting married; John had
looked as if he?d won the
lottery, sweeping Maura up
into a big hug and giving
her a resounding kiss on
the cheek.
And when Chloe had been
born, Lily and Andrew had
come for the weekend, and
Lily had barely had a turn
to hold Chloe, John had
been so smitten.
?Things change,? Maura
answered, then looked
away, sipping her coffee.
?At least you have this
weekend,? Lily said with an
attempt at optimism. ?He
can?t skip out to work here,
and the two of you can
have a proper chat. Figure
out what?s going on.?
?He can disappear with
his phone or laptop,?
Maura returned darkly. ?It
seems as if he always has
an excuse.?
?Well, let?s not give him
one,? Lily said, trying to
make the best of a difficult
situation. ?All marriages go
through rough patches,
love.?
Even hers. Were she and
Andrew in one now? Lily
hated to think like that, yet
she couldn?t help it.
?We have the fireworks
party at the Langfords
tonight,? she continued in a
more cheerful tone,
determined for both of
them to look on the bright
side. ?They always put on a
good do. It should be fun
for everyone.?
?Let?s hope so,? Maura
answered, rising to dump
her coffee in the sink.
While Lily watched
unhappily, her daughter
strode out of the kitchen
without looking back.
* * * *
Anna gazed at her
reflection in the mirror for
around the sixth time. She
still looked the same ?
flushed face, bright eyes,
nervous.
She really shouldn?t be
obsessing about this party
at the Langfords, but she
had been, all day. What
would Will look like after
ten years? What would he
say to her, if anything?
Would he still be angry?
Biting her lip, Anna
remembered her last
conversation with Will when
she?d finished uni. He?d
wanted her to return to
Llanwen with him.
He was planning to start
his own landscaping
business, and Anna had
been toying with the idea of
getting her PGCE.
?You can get your
certificate in Cardiff,? Will
had said, his face alight
with optimism.
Looking at him, Anna had
known how simple and easy
it seemed to him, their
whole future mapped out,
just like that.
?We could get married in
a year.? He?d blushed when
he said that.
They hadn?t talked about
marriage yet, although
they?d been dating for
three years. They?d talked
about the future in a vague,
for ever kind of way, but
hearing it stated in such a
matter-of-fact way had
freaked Anna out.
Looking back, she knew
she?d overreacted. She got
angry, first of all, and then
she panicked and booked a
ticket to Australia without
telling anyone.
Will was both stunned and
having properly lived.
But ten years was a long
time, and now that she was
faced with the prospect of
seeing Will again, Anna
didn?t know whether she
was terrified or excited.
Probably both.
?We should get going,?
Lily called up the stairs. Her
mother had seemed
Anna didn?t know whether she
was terrified or excited
shattered when she?d
announced her plans.
?Australia? But why??
?You know I?ve always
wanted to travel,? Anna
insisted, avoiding his gaze.
?I never said otherwise.?
?I thought you meant
holidays. Anna, a one-way
ticket??
?I don?t want to be tied
down, Will. Not when I?m
only twenty-one.? She
looked at him desperately,
needing him to understand,
but the naked hurt that
flashed across his face had
told another story.
?That?s how you see our
relationship?? he said
quietly. ?Being tied down?
At least now I understand.?
It had all unravelled far
too quickly after that.
They?d taken a walk along
the River Wye, the world in
the heady throes of
summer, picnics on the
banks and kayaks on the
river, and they?d walked
along, dragging their steps
as they?d had a painful
conversation of jagged
bursts and awkward
silences.
Anna hadn?t realised
they?d actually broken up
until Will had kissed her
goodbye on the cheek.
?I?ll always miss you,
Anna.?
He?d walked away before
she could explain that she
hadn?t meant it to end like
this, but as he kept walking
without so much as looking
back, she told herself it was
a good thing.
If Will couldn?t
understand her need for
travel and freedom, then
they didn?t belong together.
The last thing she wanted
was to set up house in the
village where she?d spent
her whole life, without
frazzled and worried for
most of the day, although
Lily had insisted she was
fine.
Her dad had popped in
and out throughout the
day, always seeming to be
on some mission to do with
the big party tomorrow
night.
Anna understood the
desire to have a proper do,
but it seemed to have
become an obsession with
her father; his three
children were under one
roof for the first time in
years, and he decided to
drive all the way to Bristol
to find some better
napkins!
Lily had looked
exasperated, and Maura
had seemed darkly amused.
?Who would have thought
Dad would take such an
interest in table
decorations?? she?d
murmured.
Simon had been
oblivious, always on his
phone or laptop, staying
connected to work.
Sometimes it felt as if he
wasn?t there at all, although
when she had attempted a
conversation he?d looked
up with an affable smile
and told her work was
ticking along.
?Anna?? Lily called again.
?Are you coming??
?Be right down.?
One last check in the
mirror, and yes, she still
looked the same. Anna
grabbed her coat and
headed downstairs, her
stomach fizzing with nerves.
The party was in full
swing when they arrived, all
their neighbours crowded
into the Langfords? cosy
cottage, and some spilling
out into the garden
that overlooked White
30
Hill, now cloaked in
starry darkness.
Anna?s gaze darted to
and fro as she looked for
Will?s burly form, but she
couldn?t see him anywhere
and she didn?t want to be
too obvious about looking.
Someone gave her a hug,
and she looked to see
Louise Fullerton, another
neighbour and former
babysitter, smiling at her.
Anna made distracted
chitchat for a few minutes,
still looking for Will
although trying not to look
as if she were. Once they
got over that first meeting,
she decided, everything
would feel easier.
?Get a drink, Anna,?
Louise urged, and led her
over to the drinks table.
Anna poured herself a
lemonade and sipped it
slowly, her heart beating
like a drum. She hadn?t
expected to be quite so
nervous.
?How?s Australia?? Louise
asked. ?You?re in the
Outback now, aren?t you??
?Alice Springs, coordinating tours.?
?Sounds amazing.?
?Yes.? It was amazing.
Why did she have to keep
reminding herself of that?
?So I suppose you?re not
coming home any time
soon?? Louise said with a
laugh, and Anna surprised
them both by saying, ?I
don?t know.?
Then, with an alarming
lurch of her heart, she
caught sight of Will.
Anna moved away from
the drinks table, unsure
whether she was trying to
find Will or avoid him. Her
thoughts were all over the
place, a mixed-up jumble of
hope and nervousness.
In the end the decision
was taken out of her hands
as Will?s gaze caught hers.
She?d forgotten how
piercing his eyes were, at
odds with his friendly face.
?Anna.? He strode
towards her and she froze.
?How are you? It?s been so
long.?
?Fine, thanks.? She held
an uncertain hand out for
him to shake but he
ignored it and swept her up
into one of his bonecrunching bear hugs.
She?d forgotten how nice
Will?s hugs were. You
couldn?t do anything but
give into them. Her toes
were barely touching the
ground.
?So tell me all about
Australia,? Will said once
he?d released her.
Anna looked at him,
noticing how he looked the
same, just older. There
were a few more creases by
his eyes, and a muscular
thickness to his shoulders
and chest, no doubt from
working as a landscaper for
so many years.
?You?re happy there?? he
asked.
It was almost a rhetorical
question, yet Anna found
herself saying, ?Sort of.?
Will?s eyebrows rose.
?That?s not what I
expected to hear. Has the
taste for adventure grown
sour??
Anna stared at him
helplessly, unable to gauge
his tone. Was it light or
bitter or hopeful? A bit of
all three, perhaps. Could
Will possibly feel as
conflicted as she did?
?Let me get you another
drink,? Will said. ?Then you
can tell me all about it.?
* * * *
Maura sipped her glass of
wine and watched everyone
circulate. She?d said hello
to her neighbours, made
the required chitchat, but
she felt distant from
everyone ? especially from
her husband.
She glanced at John,
whose fingers were
twitching by his trouser
pocket where she knew
he?d slid his phone. He
couldn?t wait to check it, to
make some excuse to her
and leave the party.
Bitterness spiked through
her, and Maura tried to
suppress it.
John?s emotional distance
was turning her into
someone she didn?t like
? someone who shrieked at
her children and sniped at
her husband.
But it had gone on for
months now, and John
never had any decent
explanation.
When Maura dared to
ask him why he was staying
late at work yet again, or
having to go into the office
on a Saturday, or what was
so important that he had to
check his phone at all
hours, he never had an
answer she could accept.
His gaze would slide
away from hers and he?d
mumble something about a
client or a deal that was
delicate.
John?s job in finance was
mid-level; he wasn?t moving
millions, wheeling and
dealing the way some
people were. So why had it
all suddenly become so
important?
The fear that was growing
inside her was that this
wasn?t about work at all.
He was hiding something
and Maura didn?t dare to
think about that.
?Have you seen Chloe??
she asked John, and he
jerked round.
?Don?t think so. She
headed out to the garden a
while back.?
?OK.? She shouldn?t
worry, but Chloe had been
in a sulk all weekend. ?And
what about Dan??
?On the trampoline with
some of the boys.?
Hopefully they wouldn?t
all knock heads, either
figuratively or literally.
Maura took another sip of
wine, wishing she could
squash this queasy feeling
of uncertainty that bubbled
in her stomach like acid.
John gave her a swift,
apologetic look.
?I just need to make a
quick call . . .?
?Not here, John,? Maura
protested. She hadn?t
thought he?d dare. ?It?s
Friday night, and we?re only
here for a few hours.?
?It?s important, Maura.?
?It?s always important.?
?I?m sorry.?
He left without waiting for
her reply, slipping by the
crowds of people and
through the open French
windows on to the terrace.
Maura watched him, torn
between fury and fear. Why
wouldn?t he tell her what
was going on? Did she even
want to know what it was?
Yes, she decided with a
spurt of reckless courage,
she did. Tonight she wasn?t
going to let John make
excuses. She wanted to
know what was going on
with her husband ? and her
marriage.
Putting her drink aside,
Maura squared her
shoulders and headed
outside after John.
* * * *
On the other side of the
room Simon?s phone
buzzed in his pocket.
He took it out, surprised
to see it was from Kelly.
She usually didn?t
communicate with him on
weekends, though he often
worked both Saturday and
Sunday. Kelly had teased
him that she believed in a
proper balance to life,
something she said Simon
still had to learn.
So why was she texting
him now? Had something
urgent come up?
Frowning, Simon read the
simple message.
Having a good time? It
was followed by a funny
little yellow icon, a smiley
face emoji.
Baffled, he wondered if
she really cared if he was
enjoying himself with his
family this weekend. The
possibility that she might
sent a frisson of pleasure
through him and his
thumbs hovered over the
buttons as he considered
how to reply.
It?s been OK. It was
amazing how he had to
deliberate over three such
bland words, but it took
him nearly five minutes to
decide on that response.
He pressed Send, staring at
the screen, willing another
text to come up.
He knew he was being
silly. Kelly probably felt
sorry for him. It wasn?t as if
he were being charming,
was it? This hardly
constituted banter.
Simon?s heart gave a
lurch as another text
appeared on his screen.
Just OK?
Simon reflected on the
meaning of the question as
he considered his reply.
Should he delve into the
complicated family
dynamics: Maura?s tension,
his mother?s nervousness,
and his parents? silent yet
loving disappointment that
he remained a bachelor?
No, surely not. In any
case, he would have no
idea how to communicate
that in text form.
He decided to try for
something a bit more
subtle.
33
You know. Families.
Then he waited,
holding his breath for her
reply. It pinged in quickly.
Yes, I do. But yours
seems so nice.
He contemplated this for
a few seconds, wondering
what direction he wanted
this conversation to take.
Away from his family, yes,
but towards what?
They are nice. But like I
said . . . Families.
He hesitated, his thumbs
hovering. Then, feeling
reckless, he added the
winking emoji then
wondered if it came across
as creepy. Had he just
made a big mistake?
Several seconds passed
while Simon?s hand grew
slick around his phone and
he waited for Kelly?s reply.
Then an emoji popped
up. An emoji he wasn?t sure
how to interpret.
Squinting at it, he saw it
was a smiley face with a
tongue hanging out. A
cheeky face. He felt
reassured, if still somewhat
uncertain.
While he?d been
deliberating the meaning of
the emoji, Kelly had texted
again.
Simon?
I?m here, he texted, then
waited.
I think this is the longest
text conversation we?ve
ever had.
He smiled, glad to be off
the subject of families.
Yes, he texted back. I?m
not a great one for texting.
You seem to be
managing fine.
Simon smiled.
Was that a compliment?
Yes.
Well, it did seem to be
going OK, Simon thought
with a flush of pleasure.
And it seemed, just maybe,
that they were flirting.
He thought of Kelly?s
glinting eyes, that teasing
smile. He pictured her
looking down at her phone,
waiting for his reply. Then
he racked his brains for
something clever to text,
and came up with nothing.
Simon?
Quickly Simon texted:
Sorry. I?m at a party.
As fast as he could blink,
Kelly texted back.
Oh, sorry! I?ll let you go.
Simon stared
disconsolately at his phone
for several minutes, but no
more texts pinged in, and
he had no idea how to
explain to Kelly that he
hadn?t meant it like that at
all.
* * * *
Anna stepped out into
the moonlit darkness of the
garden, willing the flush on
her cheeks to fade. She?d
just spent an agonising yet
wonderful hour with Will,
catching up on life, telling
him stories about her time
in Australia, listening to
that deep, booming laugh
of his that she?d missed.
She?d managed to
discover that his business
was doing well, he was
happy to stay in Llanwen
for ever and he was single.
The last had been the
trickiest bit of their
conversation when she?d
worked up the courage to
ask, in as light a voice as
she could manage.
?So, is there anyone
special in your life??
Will?s eyes had seemed to
bore into hers as he?d
paused before replying.
?No,? he said shortly.
?There isn?t. You??
?No.?
Her admission had been
followed by an expectant
silence that neither of them
had broken, then they?d
been interrupted by a
well-meaning neighbour
encouraging them to try the
pigs in blankets.
Anna had murmured
something to Will before
drifting away. She needed a
moment alone to compose
herself, to slow her racing
heart and will the heat from
her face to fade and to
figure out just what it was
she wanted.
She knew her life in Alice
Springs wasn?t perfect, but
she?d only been there a
year. The last thing she
wanted to do was leap into
some major decision
without thinking it through
? like she had last time.
Recrimination swept
through her as she
remembered just how
quickly she?d booked the
plane ticket to Australia,
spooked by Will?s wellmeaning declarations. Then
she?d stubbornly stayed out
there to prove something.
She?d enjoyed her years
in Australia, no question,
but now she had to ask
herself: had they come to
an end?
A rustle from the depths
of the garden had Anna?s
thoughts coming to a
standstill. She peered out
into the night, wondering if
it was an animal.
She heard a tell-tale sniff.
?Hello?? Anna called
cautiously. Whatever had
been rustling went suddenly
quiet. Anna took a step into
the garden.
?Hello? Is anybody
there??
As her eyes adjusted to
the darkness, she saw the
shape of a hunched figure.
Dark hoodie, ripped jeans
and a cloud of blonde hair.
It was her niece, Chloe.
?Chloe.? Anna stepped
across the frost-tipped
grass towards her. ?What
are you doing out here in
the dark? Are you OK??
?Yeah.? Another sniff.
It was obvious to Anna
that her niece wasn?t fine,
but she had no idea how to
go about getting the
teenager to open up. She
loved Chloe, but she didn?t
actually know her that well.
?Are you sure?? Anna
asked gently. ?Because you
sound upset.?
?I?m fine.?
In the moonlight Anna
saw the glint of tear tracks
on the young girl?s face.
?You don?t seem fine,
Chloe.? She hesitated,
wanting to help but
knowing how prickly
teenagers could be.
Thirteen was a tough age.
Anna remembered it well,
and how horrible girls could
be, best friends one day
and arch enemies the next.
?Look,? she continued,
?feel free to tell me to mind
my own business, but you
seem upset and I hate the
thought of you out here
alone in the dark. Plus, I
may seem ancient to you,
but I remember what it was
like to be a teenager.?
She gave a commiserating
shudder.
?Spots and boys being
silly and girls being horrid.
But maybe nothing like that
has happened to you.?
Anna waited, holding her
breath, while Chloe dragged
her sleeve across her face.
?I don?t have spots,? she
muttered, and Anna gave a
little laugh.
?No, you don?t. I had
them terribly for a bit. I
tried to bunk off school a
couple of times because of
a breakout, but Nana
wasn?t having it.?
?My mum would never
allow that.?
?No.? Anna let a silence
fall before she asked,
?What about the other
things, though? Silly boys?
Horrid girls??
A longer silence stretched
on, the air seeming to
crackle. Anna kept quiet
with effort, sensing that she
shouldn?t press.
?The horrid bit,? Chloe
said at last. ?Maybe.?
She looked away and
Anna gave her a second to
compose herself.
?Do you know,? Anna
said after a moment, ?when
I was in Year Eight, the cool
girls made my life a misery?
Every single day they
waited by the lockers and
teased me. A big group of
them all waiting for me to
come up to my locker, and
you know why??
?Why?? Chloe asked, and
she sounded more than a
little curious.
?Because I had frizzy
hair. They called me
Frizzhead. I hated it so
much, and then one day I?d
had enough. I whirled
around and got into the
coolest girl?s face and said,
?So what if my hair is frizzy?
I like it?. And do you know
what? They never bothered
me again.?
Chloe let out a huff of
laughter.
?Must be nice.?
?I know it?s not that
simple,? Anna said quietly.
?Especially not these days,
with social media and
phones and everything.?
?Yeah.?
Anna waited, sensing she
shouldn?t press.
?A couple of girls at
school have got it in for
me,? Chloe began quietly.
?They?ve started a group
online.?
?A group online?? Anna
prompted when Chloe
didn?t go on.
?It?s called ?We Hate
Chloe?,? she said, her voice
breaking. ?They got
everyone in my class to
Subscribe Today
SUBSCRIBERS ENJOY...
? Saving ovEr �
13 ISSUES ONLY �!
on the shop price!
? FrEE ?Mary Berry Everyday?
Cookbook with every order.
PLUS
FREE
? FrEE UK DELivErY
direct to their door.
?Mary Berry Everyday?
Cookbook
? gUaranTEED
to receive their copy before
it?s in the shops.
WORTH �
? nEvEr MiSSing
an issue of their favourite
magazine.
Digital subscriptions available on
PC, tablet, and mobile
Visit www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk/digital
SUBSCRIBE TODAY
FREEPHONE
BY POST send coupon to:
The People?s Friend Subscriptions,
PO Box 766, Haywards Heath, RH16 9GF.
0800 318 846 quoting PFEVD
UK only.Lines open 8am to 6pm Mon ? Fri,9am to 5pm Sat.
Overseas +44 1382 575580
For one-off payment orders,enclose your details and a cheque
made payable to DCThomson & Co Ltd.
ONLINE www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk/subscriptions
Complete coupon and send to: The People?s Friend Subscriptions,
PO Box 766, Haywards Heath, RH16 9GF.
Subscription Order Form
? Yes, I would like to subscribe to ?The People?s Friend? for:
?
?
?
?
1 DIRECT DEBIT
DC Thomson & Co Ltd., 2 Albert Square, Dundee, DD1 9QJ.
Originator?s Identification Number
INSTRUCTIONS TO YOUR
BANK/BUILDING SOCIETY
TO PAY BY DIRECT DEBIT
3 8 8 5 5 2
BEST DEAL! Only � every 3 months (UK) by Direct Debit* + FREE GIFT
Name and full postal address of your Bank or Building Society
6 months (26 issues) at � (UK) or �.49 (Overseas) by cheque + FREE GIFT
To the Manager
1 year (51 issues) at � (UK) or �9 (Overseas) by cheque + FREE GIFT
Title ............. Name .............................................................................................................
Address .................................................................................................................................
..................................................................................................................................................
Postcode ............................Telephone ..............................................................................
email ......................................................................................................................................
Bank/Building Society
Address
Postcode
Instruction to your Bank or Building Society
Please pay DC Thomson & Co Ltd Direct debit from the account detailed in this instruction subject
to the safeguards assured by the Direct Debit Guarantee. I understand that this instruction may remain
with DC Thomson & Co Ltd and if so, details will be passed electronically to my Bank/Building society.
Signature(s)
Name(s) of A/c Holder(s)
Date
Bank/Building Account No
FOR DC THOMSON & CO LTD OFFICIAL USE ONLY
BranchSortCode
Delivery Details (If different from above)
Title ............. Name .............................................................................................................
Address .................................................................................................................................
..................................................................................................................................................
Postcode ............................Telephone ..............................................................................
Email ......................................................................................................................................
This is not part of the instruction to your Bank or Building society.
DC Thomson & Co.Ltd and its group companies would like to contact you about new products, services and offers we think may be of interest to you.
If you?d like to hear from us by post, please tick here ? telephone, please tick here ? or email, please tick here ?.
From time to time, carefully chosen partner businesses would like to contact you with relevant offers. If you?d like to hear from partner businesses
for this purpose please tick here ?.
*DIRECT DEBIT: Twelve pounds every 3 months subscription offer is only available to recipients within the UK when paying by Direct Debit.
One year Direct Debit rate of � (UK) and � (Overseas). For UK bank accounts only. One year minimum term applies. FREE GIFT: Available
for all new and renewing subscribers. Renewal orders are for payment of Direct Debit only. Please allow up to 28 days delivery from receipt
of payment. Should the gift pictured be unavailable, a replacement gift will be sent. GENERAL: For overseas enquiries, please call: +44 1382
575580 or email shop@dcthomson.co.uk. Offer ends 31st December 2017.
Bank and Building Societies may not accept
Direct Debits for some types of account
2 CHEQUE
I enclose my cheque (No cash please) for:
made payable to DC Thomson & Co Ltd
�
PFEVD
join it.?
Appalled, Anna could
do nothing but put her
arms around her niece and
hug her. Chloe?s shoulders
shook with the force of her
sobs as she burrowed her
head into Anna?s shoulder.
?That?s rubbish,? Anna
said. ?No-one should do
something so mean. Have
you told anyone??
Chloe shook her head.
?I can?t.? She sniffed.
?They?d call me a baby.?
?Well, they?re bullies.
You can?t let people get
away with that kind of stuff.
I?m sure you?re not the only
one they?ve treated like
this. And it needs to stop.?
Chloe drew back.
?You won?t tell anyone,
Aunt Anna? Please.?
?No,? Anna said gently,
?but I hope you will. It?s
making your life a misery,
Chloe. It needs to come to
an end, and the only way
that?s going to happen is if
you speak up.?
She squeezed Chloe?s
shoulder and was heartened
when she saw her niece nod.
* * * *
Lily wanted to have a
good time at the Langfords?
party. She almost was for a
little while. Andrew had had
his arm around her and
they?d talked and joked in
their old way, without any
worry or fuss about the
looming party.
But when they had a
moment alone, Andrew had
checked his phone and
frowned.
?Sorry, Lily,? he said.
?There?s a question about
the band I should sort out.?
?Andrew,? Lily protested.
?Do you have to??
?It won?t take a moment.?
But it would. It always
did. He?d spent hours every
day on this wretched party
since he?d retired.
Lily had envisioned
spending time together,
walks in the Forest of Dean,
afternoons in the garden,
maybe even a proper
holiday like they?d once
talked about. None of it
had come to pass.
As the months had gone
by and Andrew had buried
himself in the party
planning, Lily had started
to wonder.
Was this party a way to
avoid spending time with
her? Maybe retirement
wasn?t what he?d hoped,
and he dreaded days alone
together. Then she
wondered if Andrew wasn?t
the man she?d thought, or
if he?d changed.
Was a party that
important to him? Did he
wish she was smarter and
grander, the kind of woman
who wore high heels at
home and laid a table with
napkins and crystal every
night? She?d never be that
woman and she hated the
thought that Andrew might
want that.
* * * *
Maura stepped out on to
the terrace, blinking in the
dark, determined to find
John and confront him.
Guests milled about near
the doors, but she didn?t
see him so she wandered a
bit, peering into the
darkness as she stepped
closer to the lawn.
Worry spiralled inside her
as she kept looking without
success. She was about to
turn inside when she heard
a voice coming from the
alley alongside the house,
where the bins were kept.
Maura strained to hear
John?s voice.
?I understand, but could
we discuss this?? A silence
followed, and Maura
waited, feeling guilty for
eavesdropping yet unable
to keep herself from it.
?All right,? John said at
last. ?Yes. Thank you.?
He let out a sigh and
Maura realised the phone
call must be finished.
Steeling herself, she came
around the corner.
?John??
?Maura!? His face looked
shocked.
?What are you doing??
she challenged. ?Who was
that on the phone??
John?s face went paler.
?What did you hear??
?I don?t know.? Her voice
wobbled. ?Tell me what?s
going on. Even if it?s the
worst, I want to hear it.?
To be concluded.
Love reading? Don?t miss the Daily Serial on
our website: www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk.
The
Farmer
& His
Wife
John Taylor had
his eye on the
target when he
was a young lad.
I
AN asked me to join him at
a rough shoot over his and
two other farms on the East
Neuk of Fife.
It was OK for him ? he?s
just a young thing in his fifties.
Still, it was thoughtful of him
to invite me.
?I?ve never heard you refuse
an invitation to go shooting
before. Are you all right??
That was Anne, after I?d
hung up.
?I?m fine. I?m just past
walking in the mud and
freezing cold over Wormiston
Farm. In any case, I haven?t a
gun, remember?
I used to go regularly, even
though I was never a good
shot. Usually it was in the
early part of the year. Unless
the number of rabbits and
other greedy thieves are
reduced before the barley
shows through, there would
be a much diminished crop.
Those farms are right
against the North Sea. It could
be so cold you could hardly
hold a gun. I always looked
forward to the meal Norah,
Jim?s wife, put on that
evening!
Sometimes I was given a
hare to bring home. Anne
would jug it and I?d enjoy it
with plenty of vegetables.
Anne says I must tell you
about my gun account. I
decided I wanted to buy a
gun of my very own. Dad had
a gun, but he wouldn?t let me
use it.
?It?s not safe, John.?
So I got to work. I set more
snares, got up earlier and
picked more mushrooms, cut
more logs for Dad, did
everything possible to earn
some money.
I opened a savings account at
Dad?s bank in my own name. In
two years, it had risen to over
�, a goodly sum back then.
I left the book in the bank but,
one day, I brought it home to
show Dad.
?Well done, boy. Here?s
another five to add to it.?
He must have been
impressed with my efforts. That
Christmas he gave me a Belgian
two-barrelled hammer gun. It
was my pride and joy.
And I promptly forgot about
my savings account at the bank.
Forty years later I received a
long buff envelope. It was from
the income tax office.
I was asked to explain why I
had not included, in my tax
return, the � interest in my
savings account.
Anne and I looked through all
our accounts and farm books,
but couldn?t find any account to
fit that number.
I rang the bank.
?Mr Taylor, it?s your gun
account.?
?What??
Yes, it was the one I?d set up
all those years ago!
The following week I took out
the money and closed the
account. n
More
next
week
36
Vegan
Ventures
Try a little plant power in your
meals with our tasty recipes
for World Vegan Month.
Sesame
seeds contain
a good amount
of calcium, so are
recommended
for people on
a dairy-free
diet.
Crunchy Sesame Seed Stir Fry
? 200 g (7 oz) sesame seeds
? 1 tbs vegetable oil
? 2 cm (� in) ginger, grated
? 2 cloves of garlic, diced
? 120 g (4 oz) green beans, cut into 5 cm (2 in) pieces
? 100 g (3� oz) bean sprouts
? 1 red pepper, cut into slices
For the Sauce:
? 2 tbs Lee Kum Kee Teriyaki Sauce
? 1 tsp Lee Kum Kee Oriental Sesame Dressing
To Serve: steamed jasmine rice or cooked
noodles.
Course: Main
Skill level: easy
Serves: 4
1 Toast sesame seeds by frying in a hot wok without oil. When
they are lightly toasted, set aside on a dish.
2 Heat the oil in a wok or frying-pan. When hot, add the ginger
and garlic and saut�. Add green beans and cook until almost
done. If you like the beans more tender add another
2 tablespoons of water and cook a little longer. Next, add bean
sprouts and red pepper and stir-fry for another 2 minutes.
3 Sprinkle in the toasted sesame seeds.
4 To make the sauce, add the teriyaki sauce and the sesame
dressing to a small bowl. Add 1 tablespoon of water and mix
well then add to the stir fry and cook until it thickens.
5 Serve with steamed jasmine rice or cooked noodles.
www.uk.lkk.com.
COOKERY 37
Vegan Pancakes
Course: Breakfast or snack
?
?
?
?
?
?
www.clarksit.co.uk.
Skill level: easy
Serves: 2
150 g wholewheat flour
2 tsp baking powder
� tsp salt
200 ml (7� fl oz) almond milk
1 tbs maple syrup, plus more for serving (optional)
Coconut oil, for frying
To Serve: blueberries; Clarks Maple Syrup.
1 Sift the flour, baking powder and salt into a large mixing bowl.
2 Make a well in the middle and slowly whisk in the almond
milk until you have a smooth batter. Pop the batter in the fridge
for half an hour if you have time.
3 Heat a wide non-stick frying-pan over a medium heat and
add a little coconut oil.
4 Cook the pancakes in batches by dropping about a
tablespoon of batter for each pancake into the pan. Cook for
about 3 minutes on each side until golden.
5 Transfer the pancakes to a warm plate and cover to keep
warm.
6 Cover in blueberries and Clarks Maple Syrup.
Braised Aubergine with Tofu
?
?
?
?
900 g (2 lb) aubergine
100 g (3� oz) salt
2 tbs vegetable oil
6 cloves of garlic, 2 whole cloves crushed lightly with
the back of a knife and 4 sliced thinly
? 2 spring onions, sliced thinly
? 3 tbs pickled Sichuan vegetables
? 350 g (12 oz) firm tofu, cut into 2.5 cm (1 in) cubes
? 2 tbs fresh coriander, chopped roughly
For the Sauce:
? 2 tsp black vinegar (Chinkiang Vinegar)
? 150 ml Wing Yip Shaohsing Wine
? 1 tbs Wing Yip Pure Sesame Oil
? 3 tbs Wing Yip Light Soy Sauce
? 2 tbs brown sugar
? 1 tbs fermented chilli paste
? 1 tbs corn starch
To Serve: boiled jasmine rice.
www.wingyipstore.co.uk.
Course: Main
Skill level: medium
1 Cut the aubergine into roughly
5 cm (2 in) cubes and place
into a colander. Sprinkle over
the salt and mix thoroughly to
ensure that the aubergine is
evenly coated. Leave for at least
30 minutes, but ideally for
1 hour.
2 Rinse the aubergine
thoroughly to ensure that any
remaining salt is removed and
then pat dry with kitchen paper.
3 Place into a steamer placed
over boiling water. Put the lid
on the steamer and cook the
aubergine for 10 to 15 minutes,
or until completely soft. Carefully
remove the steamer from over
the boiling water and set aside.
4 Whilst the aubergine is
cooking, in a separate bowl
combine the sauce ingredients
and whisk until the corn starch
has dissolved and then set aside.
5 Once the aubergine has
steamed and the sauce has
been mixed, heat a clean
wok over a medium heat and
add the vegetable oil. Add
the 2 lightly crushed whole
garlic cloves and stir-fry until
lightly golden. This should take
approximately 5 minutes. If the
garlic cloves are browning too
quickly, turn down the heat.
6 Remove the garlic cloves and
discard as these were used to
Serves: 4
flavour the oil. Turn up the heat
to high and add the thinly sliced
garlic, white parts of the spring
onions and the pickled Sichuan
vegetables. Stir-fry for
1 minute and then add the
sauce mixture to the wok, being
careful not to let any of the
ingredients burn. Constantly stir
until the sauce ingredients have
fully incorporated.
7 Add the steamed aubergine
to the sauce and then carefully
add the cubed tofu. Gently fold
all the ingredients through the
sauce and bring to the boil.
Once boiling reduce the heat to
low and simmer for 5 minutes
or until the sauce has thickened.
Ensure the aubergine and tofu
are piping hot.
8 Serve immediately with boiled
jasmine rice and garnish with
the spring onion greens and the
coriander.
Sichuan
vegetable is
the pickled stem
of the mustard plant
with a spicy, sour
and salty taste
and crunchy
texture.
Remember: recipes have been given in both metric and imperial. It is important to use one method throughout as they are not exactly the same.
http://jackdanielsbbqsauces.com.
Cauliflower Hot Wings
Course: Appetiser
Skill level: easy
? 1 cauliflower, cut into
bite-size florets
? 100 g (3� oz) plain
flour
? 25 g (1 oz) cornflour
? 400 g (14 oz) very fine
breadcrumbs
? Salt and freshly ground
black pepper, to taste
? 1 bottle of Jack
Daniel?s� Extra Hot
Habanero Barbecue
Sauce
? 1 red chilli, sliced finely
? 2 spring onions, sliced
finely
? 50 g (1� oz) toasted
sesame seeds
1 Pre-heat the oven to
180 deg. C., 350 deg. F.,
Gas Mark 4.
2 Using a metal spoon,
combine the plain flour,
cornflour and seasoning and
Serves: 4
then add 125 ml (4 fl oz) cold
water and mix gently until it
forms a thin batter.
3 Tip the breadcrumbs into
another mixing bowl.
4 Using your hands, coat the
cauliflower florets in the batter
and then transfer to the bowl
filled with the breadcrumbs,
a few at a time, ensuring the
florets are coated evenly.
5 Place the coated cauliflower
on a baking tray and roast
in the pre-heated oven until
golden and crisp.
6 Remove the cauliflower from
the oven, place in a mixing
bowl and pour in the Jack
Daniel?s� Extra Hot Habanero
Barbecue Sauce, tossing well to
ensure even coating.
7 Garnish by sprinkling with the
chopped red chilli, the spring
onions and sesame seeds.
8 Serve immediately.
Spicy Thai Sweet Potato
Curry
Course: Main
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
Skill level: easy
Serves: 4
1 head of broccoli
1 tbs coconut oil
2 American sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 onion, cut into quarters
1 tbs yellow thai curry paste
2 cloves garlic, chopped finely
2 cm (� in) fresh ginger, sliced thinly
1 red pepper, cut into narrow rings
200 ml (7 fl oz) coconut milk
400 ml (14 fl oz) vegetable stock
1 stalk lemongrass, chopped roughly
Pinch of salt
Juice of half a lime
Handful fresh coriander, chopped
1 Steam or blanch the broccoli until al dente, then rinse with cold water.
Dry the broccoli and lightly char in a very hot pan and set aside.
2 Heat the coconut oil in a large wok or frying-pan and brown the sweet
potato cubes. Add the onion and fry for 2 to 3 minutes, then add the
curry paste and stir well. Add the garlic, ginger and pepper and stir gently.
3 Next, add the coconut milk, stock and lemongrass and bring to a gentle
simmer for around 10 minutes.
4 Add the broccoli to the pan and season with a pinch of salt.
5 Split the curry between four plates, sprinkle with the lime juice over the
plates, and scatter over the fresh coriander. Serve with fragrant Thai rice.
Next week: versatile oats recipes.
sweetpotatoes.eu/en.
For more delicious recipes visit our website:
www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk.
40
I got very
interested in
old bones
and David Pelham, which
was given to me when I was
about eight or nine. I?ve
still got that book on my
bookshelf and it still excites
me when I open it today!?
Pursuing a career in
medicine, Alice went to
Cardiff University,
expecting to head into
surgery.
?Then I got very
interested in old bones,
and started a PhD, so I
ended up as an academic
rather than a practising
doctor.
?I think it?s important to
follow your passions, but
also to throw yourself into
whatever you?re doing in
the here and now, and to
be open to opportunities
that arise along the way,
even if they?re a little
Presenting at this
year?s BAFTAs.
Rex.
F
ROM her first
appearance on TV in
Channel 4?s ?Time
Team?, Dr Alice
Roberts has become
a regular fixture on our
screens, taking a closer
look at the past and
uncovering the habits of
our ancestors.
?I was interested in a
whole range of subjects
when I was young, but the
one that really grabbed me
from a very early age was
biology and, in particular,
human biology. I was really
fascinated with how the
human body worked and I
still am; that?s something
that has stayed with me.?
Alice still remembers the
book that first drew her in.
?I had a fantastic pop-up
book by Jonathan Miller
unexpected. A good
education gives you the
ability to be flexible.?
Alice?s ?interest in old
bones?, or paleopathology,
looks at ancient diseases.
It?s a fairly young science
? only since World War II
has it been used to tell us
more about human history.
?I was intrigued by the
possibility of diagnosing
disease in ancient bones ?
and understanding more
about how diseases
affected people in the past,
as well as how the diseases
themselves have changed
over time.?
This specialist interest
took her career in a new
direction.
?I was interested in public
engagement (even though
we didn?t call it that, back
then) as soon as I started
my academic career. I was
interested in visiting
schools to talk about my
subject and help to raise
aspirations and stimulate
interest in biology, and in
anatomy in particular.
?I fell into the television
work rather by accident,
after being asked to
prepare some reports on
archaeological human
remains for the Channel 4
archaeology series, ?Time
Team?.
?They then asked me to
be an expert contributor
on their digs ? as a human
bones expert and an extra
pair of hands down in
Dan Stevens.
Dr Alice Roberts explains how she
became one of TV?s best-known
science presenters.
the trenches!
?Somehow that led to
other opportunities with
the BBC, where I?ve had
the huge privilege of
working on a number of
solo landmark series as
well as programmes like
?Horizon?.?
And now Alice feels at
home in front of the
camera ? although she?s
her own strongest critic.
?I?ve been making
television for sixteen years,
so it feels pretty normal
and natural! But I think
there?s always room for
improvement, though, so I
appreciate working with
directors who can help me
hone my craft, and I also
watch my programmes
quite critically.
?I think that approach
? being a ?reflective
practitioner? ? helps you to
improve whatever it is
you?re doing!?
REAL LIFE
41
Science On TV
Does Alice think that we?ve reached a point where
it?s never been more popular?
iStock.
?I think the appetite has always been there.
And traditional media is still important, but new
technology has also provided researchers with an
array of options for direct interaction ? through
blogging, Twitter, writing for online newspapers like
?The Conversation?, a publication written entirely by
academics, and well-written to boot.?
If a programme piques your interest, it?s certainly
never been easier to find out more.
For many of us, Alice is
one of a number of
television experts who play
a vital role in exciting
people about science. Folk
like Professor Brian Cox,
Liz Bonnin and Alice have
made factual programming
gripping for a whole new
generation of viewers.
In fact, Alice now has a
role at Birmingham
University that?s dedicated
to better connecting
scientists and people, as
the grand-sounding
Professor of Public
Engagement!
?I work on ways of
helping all of our
researchers at Birmingham
to engage with the wider
public. Essentially it?s about
communication ? in the
true sense of the word ?
trying to establish a
two-way dialogue between
researchers and the
general public.
?It?s certainly easier for
some areas of research
compared with others.
Anything with an obvious
human element ? like
medicine, social sciences,
history ? has a ready-made
advantage. There can be
more of a barrier to
engagement with physical
sciences, but it?s often
about finding an interesting
hook ? something to get
people interested in the
first place.
?The passion and
enthusiasm of individual
researchers is absolutely
key ? they know why a
subject is fascinating.?
Research for TV and in
her own academic career
has inspired Alice to write
books, too, and her latest,
?Tamed: Ten Species That
Changed Our World?, is a
product of this.
?I?ve been interested in
human origins for ages,
and I love how you can
bring lots of separate
strands of evidence in and
weave them together.
There are clues from
fossils, from archaeology,
the material culture of the
past, from written history,
and now from genetics as
well. In fact, genetics is
transforming our
understanding of how
humans evolved.
?I started to get
interested in tracing the
origin of other species, too,
and I?d read that apples
originated from orchards in
Kazakhstan.
When I started to
research that a bit more, I
uncovered a wonderful
story ? of the origin of
apples from large fruit on
the flanks of the Tien Shan
mountains, of the spread of
apples along the early Silk
Roads, of the invention of
grafting and the arrival of
apples in Britain with the
Romans.
?I started to cast the net
wider and research lots of
other species that seem
really familiar to us today,
which we?ve domesticated,
to find out where they
came from ? and how we
tamed them.
?There were so many
surprises ? I loved
researching and writing this
book!?
One of the most
interesting stories is about
the spread of the lactosetolerant gene, which
happened when we
domesticated cattle.
It took a historic
mutation in this gene to
allow us to drink milk
throughout our whole
lifespan ? not just in
childhood ? and this
mutation began to spread
through Europe from
around 4,000 years ago.
Now we?re at a point
where around 90% of the
population of north-west
Europe can tolerate milk,
whereas the gene didn?t
spread east ? under 10%
of the East Asian
population can drink it!
Alice?s enthusiasm for the
subject demonstrates her
point perfectly ? that the
passion of the presenter is
what viewers can connect
with, and it?s clearly what
has made her such a hit on
TV. n
Alice is on tour promoting her book. Visit
www.alice-roberts.co.uk for tour dates and
venues. Alice Roberts supports awardwinning organic beauty brand Green People.
For more information, please visit www.
greenpeople.co.uk.
SHORT STORY BY GAIL CRANE 43
I received the
letter two weeks
ago. Now I?m
ready to make
the call . . .
Dear
Hilary
Illustration by Mandy Dixon.
I
SIT at the kitchen table,
eyes unfocused, gazing
into the distance.
The letter, from someone
called Ros whose
existence I have, until now,
been totally unaware of,
lies limp in my shaking
fingers.
It?s just a piece of paper,
yet it has the power to
change the lives of all the
people I care about most.
Rob, my husband. Jill and
Mark, my stepchildren. And
my own life, too.
Somehow I must decide
what I am going to do.
It arrived two weeks ago
like any ordinary letter, in
the post with the junk mail
and a bill. Two weeks, and
still I can?t stop reading it.
I?ve read it so often the
pages are worn and the ink
is smudged where my
fingers have played
nervously as I read and
reread the words.
Dear Hilary, it begins. I
hope you don?t mind me
calling you Hilary. You
don?t know me, but . . .
Immediately it takes me
back to a place I have tried
desperately hard to forget,
but know I never will. Bury
it, maybe, but forget?
Never.
The Sixties may have
been swinging, but in so
many ways they were still
terribly old-fashioned, and
this letter revives painful
memories as crystal clear as
if it were yesterday.
* * * *
The room made me think
of a school dormitory. Not
that I?d ever been in one,
but I?d read about them in
books and this was how I?d
imagined them to be.
It was a long room with
windows on two sides and a
door leading to stairs which
led down to the kitchen and
a communal sitting-room.
It was a cold, dull room.
Brown lino covered the
floor and floral curtains
hung at the windows. The
only relief from this dullness
was a few personal items
belonging to the room?s
various temporary
occupants.
Along each side of the
room was a row of five
iron-framed beds, each with
a candlewick cover that
might once have been white
but was now a nondescript
shade of fawn.
And beside each bed was
a cot.
The clock, high up on the
wall over the door, ticked
on remorselessly. It was
almost time.
I sat curled up on the bed
nearest the end window,
my bare legs drawn up
under my skirt, my woollen
cardigan buttoned up to my
neck in an effort to keep
warm.
I looked down at the
baby lying in my arms and
tucked the blanket more
closely round her, holding
her close so I could rest my
face against her soft cheek.
I breathed in the clean,
warm smell of her tiny
body; so fragile and
helpless, yet strong enough
to survive the ordeal of
birth from which we had
both so recently emerged.
Tenderly, I stroked the
dark mop of hair on her
head, slipping my finger
inside the tiny curls, feeling
their springy strength.
As I did so, a wave of
love surged through me and
overflowed with the tears
that ran down my face.
A salty drop fell on the
baby?s forehead and,
gently, I wiped it off with
the corner of the blanket.
An overwhelming feeling
of despair spread through
my body. I had never
known such pain. Never
realised how desperately
unhappy it was possible to
be and still, somehow, exist.
Surely it was never meant
to be like this? I was
eighteen years old, yet felt I
had aged a hundred years
in the last few months.
* * * *
I jump as the back door
opens and closes with a
bang and Rob breezes into
the kitchen, bringing with
him the smell of fresh air
and earth.
He shrugs off his
gardening jacket and drops
his boots on the newspaper
on the floor of the utility
room.
?I can?t wait until I?m fully
retired,? he says, hugging
me. ?Just think of all those
vegetables I?ll be able to
grow when I have more
time.?
He goes quiet and I can
feel his eyes on the letter.
?You?re not reading that
again, are you, love?? he
says. ?You must know it off
by heart by now.?
He leans forward and lays
his cheek against mine,
holding me close.
?Have you decided yet??
I nod.
?I?m going to do it,?
I tell him.
44
?Well, as long as you?re
sure. You know we?ll all
support you, whatever you
decide.?
?I?m sure.? I look up at
him. ?I?ve thought about
nothing else for two weeks,
and I know if I don?t I?ll
regret it.?
?Will you write? Or make
a phone call??
?I?m not sure.?
?Well, I don?t know about
you but I could kill for a
cup of tea. Shall I put the
kettle on??
He goes across to the
sink and I fold the letter
and push it back into its
envelope.
As I do, I can feel the
small round object that had
been enclosed with the
letter and immediately I am
back in that room again.
* * * *
Was it really 12 weeks
since I?d entered this place?
Six weeks since my baby ? I
didn?t dare think of her by
name ? was born?
But this was my last day.
My time was up and soon I
would be leaving to go
home.
Yesterday, I put my baby
to bed for the last time. An
hour ago, I fed her and
washed her and dressed
her in the little cardigan I?d
knitted during the few brief
periods of leisure time we
were allowed.
I?d had no buttons, so I?d
taken two from my own
cardigan to sew on. They
were pretty buttons: white
with a tiny flower in the
centre.
Now all we could do was
wait. Me and my baby.
Then the door opened
and they came in.
With a sob, I pulled my
baby closer, pressing her to
me, rocking her back and
forth, as much to comfort
myself as her. Emotion
welled inside me,
constricting my throat,
pounding in my head until I
felt I would burst or scream.
Sensing my despair, my
baby, too, became restless
and uttered a frightened
cry.
Then they took my
daughter from me. My
lasting memory was of my
distraught baby struggling
in a stranger?s arms, and of
her screams as she cried
out for the mother she
would never see again.
* * * *
I shake the button out of
the envelope into the palm
of my hand and look at it,
small and white with the
tiny flower in the centre.
It doesn?t look any
different from how it looked
the day I cut it from my
cardigan and sewed it on
the baby jacket. It?s difficult
to believe the last time I
saw this was almost 50
years ago.
Rob places a mug of tea
on the table in front of me
and I close my hand around
the button.
?Here you are, love,? he
says, smiling.
I smile back at him and,
not for the first time,
wonder what would have
happened if I hadn?t met
him.
We?d bumped into each
other, literally, in Marks
and Spencer?s coffee bar;
me with several bulging
shopping bags, him with a
double buggy containing
two miserable toddlers,
both of us aiming for the
only free table.
?Why don?t we share??
he?d suggested. ?That?s if
you can put up with these
two grizzlers.?
By the time we had
finished our coffee, plus a
couple of calorie-laden
Danish pastries, I knew he
was recently widowed and
he knew I was still single.
It was months later, when
it was clear things were
becoming serious between
us, that I told him I couldn?t
have children and why.
He?s never minded. Two
is enough for anyone, he
says.
I used to mind ? still do
deep down ? but I know I?m
lucky to have Jill and Mark,
who have always looked on
me as the mother they
didn?t have. They are my
family.
?So,? Rob says, sitting
down opposite me at the
table. ?What now??
?Phone,? I say, finally
making the decision.
?Would it help if I was
with you??
I reach across and take
his hand. He is such a kind
and understanding man
and part of me would love
to have him at my side.
But I shake my head. This
is something I need to do
alone.
I take the phone into the
garden and sit in the sun on
the bench where lavender
and wild thyme grow
between the stones. The
adrenalin pounding through
my body is making me hot
and I need space round me
and fresh air on my face.
My fingers hover over the
buttons and I wonder if I
am actually going to be
able to stop them shaking
enough to make the call.
I take deep breaths and
feel the lavender-scented
air begin to calm me.
I unfold the letter where
she?s written her number
and, before I can change
my mind, I dial it.
My heart thumps in
places I didn?t know it could
as I hear the ringing tone,
and fleetingly, I hope she
won?t answer. But the
ringing stops.
?Hello,? she says.
I swallow.
?It?s Hilary,? I manage to
answer, though the lump in
my throat threatens to
choke me.
There?s a shriek of delight
at the other end.
?Oh! I?m so glad you?ve
called. I was so afraid you
might not want to talk to
me.?
She sounds young and
confident and I?m so
overcome with emotion I?m
barely able to speak. Tears
are running down my face
and I brush them away with
my sleeve. How can she
even think I wouldn?t want
to talk to her?
?I?m so sorry I had to
break the news to you in a
letter,? she?s saying, ?but I
thought it would be easier
for you than if I just came
out with it over the phone.?
?I?m glad you did,? I
assure her.
I can?t deny it was a
shock, coming as it had out
of the blue, hearing my
daughter was dead, but
somehow it hadn?t hurt as
much as I might have
expected.
I?d already lost her the
day she was taken from me
and the years have dulled
the pain, if not the
memories.
I gradually get the tears
under control and the
conversation becomes
easier. She tells me about
my daughter.
She was called Frances.
How strange it feels to be
able to put a name to her
after all these years of not
knowing. Ros starts telling
me a bit about herself and
before I know it we?ve been
on the phone for half an
hour and she is saying she?s
sorry but she has to get
back to work.
I don?t want her to go.
Quickly, before I can
chicken out, I ask her if she
would like to meet up.
?You could come here for
the day to meet Rob,? I say.
To my surprise she says
she would love to.
?Can I ask you
something?? she adds.
?Of course.?
?Would you mind if I
called you Gran??
My heart leaps.
?I?d love it,? I tell her.
* * * *
I stay on the bench long
after we?ve ended the call,
mulling over all we have
talked about and dreaming
of the day we will meet.
I?m still here when Rob
comes out to find me. He
sits down next to me and
hands me a glass of wine.
?How did it go?? he asks.
?It went beautifully,? I
reply.
We clink glasses and I
drink a silent toast. It?s a
funny thing, but I feel
different. All these years
I?ve felt an emptiness deep
inside, like a hunger that is
never satisfied, and I?ve
just realised it isn?t there
any more.
?She?s coming to see us,?
I say. ?Soon.?
?That?s wonderful. I?m so
pleased for you.?
Rob puts an arm round
me and I lean against him
and rest my head on his
shoulder.
?She?s nice,? I say. ?I
think you?ll like her.?
?How could I not? She is
your family.?
I like the sound of that. I
realise I?m still holding the
letter scrunched up in my
hand. I think I?ll keep it as a
souvenir of the day I lost a
daughter but found the
granddaughter I never knew
I had. n
8-Pages of
fantastic
gift ideas!
Christmas
Gift Guide
Here at ?The People?s Friend? our thoughts are already turning to Christmas
and we have put together a selection of our favourite gift ideas to help make
your Christmas shopping as easy as possible. Our 8-page gift guide contains
a fantastic range of luxury hampers, some of which can be sent to family and
friends overseas. Beautiful Christmas textiles will add a festive touch to your
kitchen while some favourite ?People?s Friend? gifts will provide inspiration while
keeping you organised. With a little help from your ?Friend? you are sure to find
something here for everyone on your Christmas list.
Walkers
Character Tins
-see inside
for details
CAll FReePHOne: 0800 318 846
Lines open 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Mon.-Fri. and 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. Sat. free from UK landlines only.
Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
Online: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
POST: ?the People?s friend?
dc thomson shop, P.o. Box 766,
Haywards Heath, RH16 9gf.
??
nd
ie
Fr
G
if
ts
fr
om
??T
he
These fantastic gift packs at special prices will provide
hours of reading and inspiration throughout the year.
The People?s Friend Fiction Pack
This fantastic pack contains ?The People?s Friend? and
My Weekly Annuals providing a fabulous collection of
fiction from favourite authors, delightful images, seasonal
poems, features, puzzles, recipes and fun facts. Enjoy
hours of feel-good fiction!
�.50 (UK) �.50 (Overseas)
FP18
The People?s Friend Friendship Pack
Celebrate all that?s best in life with our Friendship Pack.
Containing The Friendship Book and The Fireside Book,
this pack is full of inspirational quotes and uplifting tales
which will last all year round. Compiled into a nice handy
size, these thought-provoking books are easy to slip into
your handbag or pocket.
�.50 (UK) �.50 (Overseas)
FRP18
The Farmer and His Wife Volumes 1 & 2
For many years, the stories of John and Anne Taylor and
their life on the area of Fife known as the Riggin have
been a mainstay of ?The People?s Friend? magazine.
Enjoy the first and second collection of these muchloved tales, accompanied by the original watercolour
illustrations created by Dundee artist Douglas Phillips.
�.00 (UK) �.00 (Overseas)
PFFHP
CAll FReePHOne: 0800 318 846
Lines open 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Mon.-Fri. and 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. Sat. free from UK landlines only.
Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
Online: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
Our best-selling calendar tea towel is exclusive
to ?The People?s Friend?. This year?s design
features three adorable kittens in a woven
basket surrounded by vibrant flowers. It is the
perfect colourful accessory for any kitchen!
2 pack
M
M
PFT82
JANUARY
W
T
F
S
S
T
T
F
S
S
M
W
T
T
F
S
S
1 2
3 4 5 6
7 8 9
10 11 12 13
14 15 16
17 18 19 20
21 22 23
24 25 26 27
28 29 30
W
T
F
S
S
T
JUNE
W
T
F
S
S
1 2 3
4 5 6 7
8 9 10
11 12 13 14
15 16 17
18 19 20 21
22 23 24
25 26 27 28
29 30
SEPTEMBER
T
FEBRUARY
M
1 2 3 4
5 6 7 8
9 10 11
12 13 14 15
16 17 18
19 20 21 22
23 24 25
26 27 28
MAY
W
1 2 3 4
5 6
7 8 9 10
11 12 13
14 15 16 17
18 19 20
21 22 23 24
25 26 27
28 29 30 31
M
�.50 (UK) �.00 (Overseas)
T
1 2 3 4
5 6 7
8 9 10 11
12 13 14
15 16 17 18
19 20 21
22 23 24 25
26 27 28
29 30 31
M
T
OCTOBER
W
T
F
S
S
1 2 3 4
5 6 7
8 9 10 11
12 13 14
15 16 17 18
19 20 21
22 23 24 25
26 27 28
29 30 31
M
T
MARCH
W
T
F
S
S
M
T
r
fo
e s
lu ack
va p
at ey
re n
G mo
The People?s Friend Calendar Tea Towel
APRIL
W T F
S S
1 2 3 JA
4 NUAR
M
5 6 7 8
Y
9 10T 11W T
1
2F 3 4 5
12 13 14 15 1 2
6 7 FE
S S
16 17 18
8 BR
3 4 9
19 20 21 22 8 9
5 10 11 12 13M 14T W UARY
23 24 25
15 T
10 11 16 6 7
F S
26 27 28 29 15 16
12 17
19
13 18
20
21
30 31 17 18
S
22 1
14
23
5 6
2 3
22 23
19 24
20 25
7 8
29
4
24 25
21 26 27 28
30
12 13
9 10
29 30
26
27 28
14 15
11
31
19 20
16 17
JULY
21 22
18
23 24
M T W
AUGU26
T F S S
ST27 28
25
M
T
MARCH
W
T
F
S
S
1 2
5 6
3 4
7 8
12 13
9 10
14 15
11
19 20
16 17
21 22
18
26 27
23 24
28 29
25
30 31
M
T
APRIL
W
T
F
S
S
2 3
4 5
1
9 10
6 7
2 3 4 5M T
1 2 3 4
11 12
8
6 7W 8T
5
16 17
13 14
F 6S 7 8
9 10 11 12 1
18 19
15
9 10 11 JU
13 14
2 15
12 NE
3 4 13 14 S
23 24
20 21
7 8
16 17 18 19
15 16M17T 18W
5
25 26
22
20 21
9 22
19T
10 11 20 6
30
27 28
14 15
F S
23 24 25 26
12 21 22 23 24 25
29
JULY
16 17
27 28
S
26
29 18 27 13
M
21
T W
4
1 2
30 31
22 23
19 28
20 29 30 315 6
T F
3
24 25
7 8
28 29
11 12
S S
26 27
AUGU
9 10
30 31
13 14
ST
M T
2 3
18 19
15 16
W T
4 5
1
20 21
17
NOVEMBER
9 10
6 7
F S
25 26
22 23
11 12
8
S
1 2
M T W
DECEMBE
27 28
24
T F S S
16 17
13 14
R
6 7
3 4
29 30
18 19
15
M T W
8 9
5
SE
T F S S
23 24
20 21
1 2PT3EM
13 14
10 11
4 BER
25 26
22
15 16
12
5 6 7M 8 T W
30 31
27 28
20 21
17 18
1 2
9 10T 11F
29
22 23
19
S 3 S 4 5 6 OC
12 13 14 15
TO
27
24
7
16
8 BE
17 18
9 R
28 29
25 26
4 5
1 102 11 12M13T 14W
19 20 213 22
30 31
15T 16F
23 24
6 25
10
1
7
NOVE
S S
11 12
8 179 18 19 202 3
26 27 28 29
MBER
M T
17 18 30 13 14 15 24 25 8 9 21 224 235 6
W T
26 27 28
10 29
19 20
16
7
11 30
F S
15 16
12 13
24 25
21 22 31
DECE
S
17 18
14
26 27
23
1 2
MBER
M T
5 6
22 23
19 20
28 29
3 4
W T
7 8
24 25
21
30
12 13
F S
9 10
29 30
26 27
14 15
11
S
31
28
19 20
16 17
3 4
1 2
21 22
18
5 6
26 27
23 24
10 11
7 8
28 29
25
12 13
9
30
17 18
14 15
19 20
16
24 25
21 22
26 27
23
31
28 29
30
M
1 AY
M
T
W
T
F
S
S
The People?s Friend Calendar 2018
As always, twelve of Britain?s most scenic locations have
been carefully selected from the delightful paintings of
??The People?s Friend?s?? favourite artist: J. Campbell Kerr.
This lovely calendar makes a wonderful gift for a friend
or loved one, or the perfect treat for yourself.
(UK) (OVERSEAS)
PFC18 Single �99
�.99
PFC82 2 pack �.50
�.50
The People?s Friend Diary 2018
This handy 2018 diary features a different cover from
?The People?s Friend? magazine for every week of the
year! Handsomely presented, with a week-to-view,
there?s plenty of space to fill in all those important
dates and appointments, with a colourful ribbon marker
making it ideal for the home or office.
PFD88 Single
(UK) (OVERSEAS)
�.45
�.45
PFD82 2 pack
�.50
�.00
POST: ?the People?s friend? dc thomson shop, P.o. Box 766,
Haywards Heath, RH16 9gf.
am
pe
rs
H
ea
s
O
ve
rs
Why not send a taste of home to friends and family in the
USA and Canada or Australia and New Zealand with these
stunning overseas hampers? The perfect gift for those who
cannot be home for Christmas.
For delivery
to Canada &
the US
Canadian & US Scottish
Luxury Hamper
�.50 PFHUS
Hamper includes: Mackays Apple & Fig Chutney
235ml; Mackays Mint & Rosemary Jelly 235ml;
Mackays Vintage Dundee Orange Marmalade 340g;
Baxters Pea & Ham Soup 540ml; Twinings English
Breakfast Tea Bags; Paterson?s Shortbread Fingers
150g; Campbells Shortbread Petticoat Tails 125g;
Gardiners Vanilla Fudge 150g; Nairn?s Roughly
Milled Oat Crackers 250g; Carr?s Water Crackers
125g; Walkers Stem Ginger Biscuits 150g; Weston
Traditional Fruit Cake 600g.
Australia & New Zealand
Scottish Luxury Hamper
�.50 PFHAU
For delivery to
Australia &
New Zealand
Hamper includes: Hardys Brut Reserve Sparkling
Wine 750ml; Baxters Chicken Broth 400g; Arran
Caramelised Red Onion Chutney 195g; Tunnock?s
Caramel Wafers 120g; Walkers Shortbread Fingers
2pk 28g; Maclean?s Highland Bakery Mini Shortbread
50g; Mackays Vintage Dundee Orange Marmalade
340g; Carr?s Water Crackers 125g; Gardiners
of Scotland Vanilla Fudge 150g; MacDonalds
Shortbread Petticoat Tails 250g; Whittings Christmas
Fruit Cake 500g; Vittoria Espresso Coffee 50g.
Hampers will be delivered between Dec 1 ? 24 weather permitting. Please order by Dec 9 to guarantee
We reserve the right to substitute any product for an alternative of the same or higher value shou
CAll FReePHOne: 0800 318 846
Lines open 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Mon.-Fri. and 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. Sat. free from UK landlines only.
Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
Online: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
K
U
am
H
Love From Santa
�.50 PF118
rs
pe
Presented in a jute sack, this Love
From Santa gift set contains:
Merlot Primera Luz Chile 75cl; Abbey
Biscuits Chocolate Brownies 150g; Barfield
Bakery Mince Pies x 3; Copperpot Christmas
Spiced Butter Fudge 175g; Buiteman Baked With
Love Gouda & Chilli Biscuits 75g; Stas Small Milk
Chocolate Bauble 75g; The Dormen Dry Roasted
Peanuts 95g.
Non Alcoholic Nibbles
�.50 PF115
Presented in a rustic tray, this hamper is packed full
of festive treats, including The Bees Knees Alcohol
Free Sparkling Brut 75cl; The Kindness Bakery
Original Cheese Straws 100g; Radfords Handmade
West Country Crumbly Butter Fudge 100g; Linden
lady Handmade Giant Milk Chocolate Buttons 100g;
Border Sweet Memories Butterscotch Crunch
Biscuits 150g; Oloves Lemon & Rosemary Natural
Green Pitted Olives 30g; Cambrook Brilliantly
Caramelised Sesame Peanuts 45g.
Perfect for
the whole
family!
White Christmas Hamper
�.00 PF144
Send your best wishes to friends or loved ones this
festive season with this White Christmas hamper.
Presented in a wooden decorative crate and packed
full of festive tipples and treats this hamper contains:
Merlot Cabernet Cape Dream Western Cape South
Africa 75cl; Sauvignon Blanc Cape Dream Western
Cape South Africa 75cl; Abbey Biscuits Mixed Berry
Biscuits 150g; Highfield Christmas Chutney 190g;
Highfield Christmas Preserve190g; Matthew Walker
Christmas Pudding 350g; Barfield Bakery Mince Pies
x 4; Ardens Goats Cheese & Black Pepper Bites 100g;
The Secret Truffletier Crunchy Chocolate Pretzels 100g;
Jimmy?s Smooth Cranberry Popcorn 150g; Buchanan?s
Clotted Cream Fudge150g; Linden Lady Handmade
Chocolate Covered Marshmallows 150g; Hider Salt &
Black Pepper Cashews 90g.
e Christmas Delivery. Overseas hampers cannot be delivered to PO Box addresses, Alaska or Hawaii.
uld an item become unavailable. You must be over 18 to purchase any gifts containing alcohol.
POST: ?the People?s friend? dc thomson shop, P.o. Box 766,
Haywards Heath, RH16 9gf.
Ro
bi
ns
Ch
ri
st
m
as
T
his delightful range of kitchenware from Ulster
Weavers will add a warm, festive feel to your
home. The range features a colourful robin design
on a cream background with a contrasting
polka dot trim. Brighten up your kitchen with one or two
pieces or co-ordinate your whole kitchen with the full set!
POT MITT
�00
PFRPM
TEA COSY
�.50
PFRTC
APRON
�.50
PFRCA
DOUBLE
OVEN
GLOVE
�.00
PFRDG
TEA TOWEL
�.00
PFROT
GAUNTLET
�.00
PRFG
CAll FReePHOne: 0800 318 846
Lines open 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Mon.-Fri. and 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. Sat. free from UK landlines only.
Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
Online: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
G
G ift
if s
ts fo
fo r
r Fri
Fr e
ie nd
nd s
s
BUY THE
TRIPLE PACK
AND SAVE
25%
Walkers Christmas Character Tins
Triple Pack (1 of each design) �.50 (UK) PCCT4
Snowman Tin �.00 PSMTI (UK)
Robin �.00 PROTI (UK)
Santa �.00 PSCTI (UK)
Walkers Musical Tin
Get into the festive spirit with our musical
tin! Giving you both melt in the mouth,
pure-butter shortbread and a delightful
rendition of Jingle Bells, this tin is the
perfect gift for all the family!
�.00 PMUSI
Sugar
Free!
St Kew
Goodwill
Basket
Delicious traditional
treats all wrapped
up in a lovely
basket. Contains:
St Kew Honey Oatie
Flips 200g, St Kew
Clotted Cream
Shortbread 200g,
St Kew Choc Chip
& Orange Biscuits
200g, Luxury Malt Whisky
Fudge 200g, Cornish Tea Bags x 5, Strawberry & Champagne
Conserve 227g.
�.00 PFSTG
St Kew Sugar Free Triple Pack
Our Keep Calm It?s Sugar Free Triple pack is the perfect gift for
those who have special dietary requirements or who simply
want to have a sugar free treat this Christmas. The pack
contains 200g each of St Kew Sugar Free Shortbread,
St Kew Sugar Free Mild Ginger Biscuits and St Kew Sugar Free
Oat Crunch Biscuits.
�.00 PFCO5
POST: ?the People?s friend? dc thomson shop, P.o. Box 766,
Haywards Heath, RH16 9gf.
X
BO
S
ST
M
A
TH
E
CH
RI
Available for both girls and boys, these beautifully
designed boxes will look amazing under any tree and are
jam-packed with great gifts to keep them entertained.
The perfect gift
for your
grandchildren!
Boys Box CHBUK �.99 (UK)
Girls Box CHGUK �.99 (UK)
CHBOV �.99 (Overseas)
CHGOV �.99 (Overseas)
Contains: Sweet magazine, Beano Christmas Special, a paperback
book and a selection of surprise gifts.
Contains: 110% Gaming magazine, Beano Christmas Special,
a paperback book and a selection of surprise gifts.
Please note box contents may be substituted for an item of equal or greater value. Each box will
contain a minimum of 7 items. Boxes are suitable for children aged 5-10. Magazine issues supplied
will be the most recent issue at time of dispatch. Boxes will be despatched in time for Christmas.
Order by December 12th to guarantee UK Christmas delivery.
?The People?s Friend? Gift Guide Order Form
CAll FReePHOne: 0800 318 846
Lines open 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Mon.-Fri. and 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. Sat. free from UK landlines only.
Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
Online: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
Name............................................................................................................................. ITEM
Address..........................................................................................................................
......................................................................................................................................
......................................................................................................................................
Postcode .................................. Telephone ...........................................................
Email Address.................................................................................................................
Delivery details (if different from above)
Name.............................................................................................................................
Address..........................................................................................................................
......................................................................................................................................
......................................................................................................................................
Postcode ................................. Telephone ...........................................................
Message.........................................................................................................................
......................................................................................................................................
POST: ?the People?s friend?
dc thomson shop, P.o. Box 766,
Haywards Heath, RH16 9gf.
Total Cost Of Order
CODE
QTY
PRICE
TOTAL
�
I enclose a cheque/postal order, made payable to DC Thomson & Co. Ltd for the total amount of
� .................... (Please write your name and address on the back of your cheque.) If you are ordering by
Credit Card please complete the following:
Card Type: Maestro/Delta/MasterCard/Visa (delete as necessary)
Start Date: ........ /........ Expiry Date: ........ /........ Issue No: ??.? (maestro only)
Card No ...................................................................... Security Code ...................
Cardholders Signature .........................................................................................................
Name on Card .......................................................................................................................
DC Thomson & Co. Ltd and its group companies would like to contact you about new products, services and offers we think may be of interest to you. If you?d like to hear from us by post, please tick here ? telephone,
please tick here ? or email, please tick here ? .
From time to time, carefully chosen partner businesses would like to contact you with relevant offers. If you?d like to hear from partner businesses for this purpose please tick here ?.
THIS MONTH?S BOOKS 53
Death In The Stars
?Set in Italy, this is a
contemporary tale of
life, love and laughter?
By Frances Brody
Set against the backdrop
of the 1927 eclipse, amateur
detective Kate Shackleton
finds herself investigating
three deaths in the theatre.
Is it coincidence or does
someone have a reason
to do away with all these
performers? This intriguing
book will keep you guessing
to the end.
My Italian
Bulldozer
ISBN: 9780349414317,
�99
by Alexander McCall Smith
When writer Paul Stewart heads
to Italy to finish his book and
escape the stresses of life, things
don?t get off to the best of starts
when he finds himself driving a
bulldozer instead of his hire car.
Ridiculous? Yes. Believable? When
in the skilful hands of Alexander
McCall Smith, completely. Follow
Paul?s journey, meet his new friends
and be introduced to a host of
warm characters who, it can only
be hoped, might reappear in future
tales.
ISBN: 9780349142296,
price �99
VVVVV
VVVVV
Date With Malice
by Julia Chapman
Can he really
drive a bulldozer
to his destination?
Samson O?Brien finds
himself back in his home
town after years in London
and the transition is not easy.
The one-time police officer
now finds himself searching
for missing sheep, until the
day a confused pensioner
arrives at his office, convinced
she is about to be killed . . .
ISBN: 9781509823857,
�99
bookshelf
On the
Win all four books
What was the name of Agatha
Christie?s famous sleuth?
a. Mrs Malaprop
b. Miss Marple
c. Miss Havisham
VVVVV
Enter
now: it?s
easy!
09010 300081
Text PF, your name,
address then
a, b or c to 84555
Calls cost 26p from a landline, calls from mobiles will cost more. Texts
charged at 25p plus your standard network rate.
Please note that you can only enter this competition by calling or texting. This competition opens at
9 a.m. on November 4 and closes on December 1 at 9 a.m. The winner will be drawn at random
from the correct entries after the closing date. Employees of D.C. Thomson & Co., Ltd., and their
close relatives are not allowed to enter. Competition contact details: Premium Rate Telephone
Services Department, D.C. Thomson & Co., Ltd., 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ. Helpline:
01382 426103. Please visit our website for our full competition Ts&Cs www.thepeoplesfriend.
co.uk/competition-terms or send a large stamped self-addressed envelope to Magazine Marketing,
Copy of your Competition Terms, DC Thomson, 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ.
Secrets Of The
Shipyard Girls
By Nancy Revell
The third in the series
following the lives of Gloria,
Rosie and Polly, this story is
set in Sunderland in 1941 as
the shipyard girls continue
their vital wartime work. Life
is not always easy and in
this gritty tale, the girls battle
on, their friendships seeing
them through.
ISBN: 9781784754662,
�99
VVVVV
SHORT STORY BY SUSAN BLACKBURN 55
Joanna used
to love her job,
but that was
before Henry
arrived . . .
Office
Politics
Illustration by iStock.
R
ESENTMENT
swamped Joanna
as the shrill tones
of the alarm forced
her into
wakefulness. The dream
she?d been enjoying had
been lamentably cut short
and, worse, she now had to
face the day.
A day that would
inevitably involve her
locking swords, yet again,
with the recently appointed
manager at her branch: the
anything but delightful Mr
Henry Riddlestone.
Joanna groaned and
pulled the duvet over her
head. She couldn?t stay
there, though, risking giving
Henry more ammunition by
being late. They seemed to
rub each other up the
wrong way every time they
came into contact.
Fuming at the way her life
seemed to have suddenly
gone south, Joanna flung
the duvet back with such
force that Tomkins, her cat,
gave a yowl of protest and
scarpered.
?I?m sorry, puss.?
Joanna followed him into
the kitchen. Picking him up,
she snuggled into his
chunky neck.
?I dunno, Tommy
Tomkins. I wish Ron?s
health hadn?t forced him to
give up work. But he was
ready to go, and looking
forward to his retirement in
his beloved Spain.?
Joanna?s sigh was so long
and fierce it ruffled
Tomkins?s fur, eliciting a
protesting rumble.
Joanna gave him a
placatory stroke.
?Don?t get me wrong, I
don?t begrudge Ron a long
and happy retirement with
his lovely Janie. How could
I? I just wish it hadn?t been
horrid Henry who appeared
in his place and spoiled
everything.?
Tomkins responded by
jumping out of her arms to
sit pointedly by his empty
bowl and giving one of his
ear-piercing yowls.
Joanna had to laugh.
?Yep,? she said wistfully.
?That pretty much sums up
how I feel.?
Joanna had worked at the
local branch of Duncans,
the long-established,
enormous chain of estate
agents, since leaving
school. She?d started as a
junior receptionist, over the
years working her way up
to head of the large
negotiating team.
She still remembered her
first day ? how nervous
she?d felt and how kind Ron
had been to her.
?When you?re on
reception, you?re the first
port of call for our
customers, Joanna, a most
important job,? Ron had
told her with a smile and a
twinkle, managing to make
her feel important, not just
a schoolgirl newbie.
Since that first day she?d
loved every minute of her
journey within the
company. Stressful,
challenging, but so
rewarding. And she?d been
lucky with her team.
But now everything had
changed.
Joanna sighed again, fed
Tomkins, then yelped as
she realised the time. She?d
better get a move on.
* * * *
Managing to race through
the door at 9 a.m. sharp,
she still received one of
horrid Henry?s looks, with
an accompanying pointed
stare at his watch. It was
ridiculous, she thought
crossly. She?d hardly ever
been late when Ron was in
charge.
She couldn?t wait to get
to work then. He was such
a lovely man. Everyone had
adored him and,
consequently, he?d always
got the best out of his staff.
Flouncing into her office,
Joanna shut her door none
too gently, flung off her
jacket and sank into her
chair. But she nearly shot
out of it again as a voice
suddenly spoke.
?Not a good start to the
day, then??
Joanna?s filing cabinet
stood in the middle of the
wall behind her office door.
Lounging nonchalantly
against it, his tall figure
impeccable in suit,
waistcoat and tie, was a
man of about Ron?s age,
though considerably more
distinguished.
Whoever he was he
certainly looked a lot
smarter than any of her
male colleagues. Like men
used to, she mused. None
of the modern smart-butcasual that men wore
today.
Her heart twanged with
misery. How she missed her
former boss with his ready
smile, booming laugh and
cuddly shape. Ron had
become like a surrogate
father to her over the
years, comforting her when
life had been against her.
How she could have done
with one of Ron?s hugs right
now!
?Who are you and where
did you spring from?? Her
greeting was sharper
than she?d intended.
After all, he could be
56
a customer. But he?d
made her jump,
appearing from nowhere
like that.
?Daniel Delaney. I?m
looking for Henry
Riddlestone, actually.?
Joanna looked down
momentarily at the papers
on her desk to hide the
frown she knew had
appeared unbidden at
Henry?s name. How
unprofessional.
?His office is further up
the corridor.? She forced
herself to look up with a
beaming smile. ?Mr
Delaney??
But he had vanished.
?A bit rude,? she
muttered.
But her phone rang just
then and she was soon so
immersed in the business of
the day she didn?t give
Daniel Delaney another
thought.
?Horrid Henry goes from
bad to worse,? she moaned
down the phone later to
Rachel, her best friend
since schooldays.
?Today he heard me on
the phone and picked me
up on my manner with one
of my vendors. Unjustly, I
might add.? Joanna sighed,
something she seemed to
be doing a lot lately.
?All right,? she admitted,
?I might have been a bit
direct with him, but he?s
been messing us about for
weeks. Ron would never
have interfered,? she
finished plaintively.
?Ron?s gone, Joanna,?
Rachel said. ?Perhaps
Henry?s just tightening up a
bit.
?Ron may have let things
Lee will be home soon and
it?s my turn to cook.?
?Go,? Joanna urged.
?Speak soon, Rach.?
* * * *
?James Ranson isn?t too
thrilled about your
treatment of him.? Henry
greeted Joanna with this
little gem the following
morning, the moment she
set foot in the office.
Joanna screamed
inwardly. Just because she
hadn?t stood any nonsense
from James Ranson?
?Also, Joanna, I?ve been
going through your files and
some of your notes aren?t
quite as detailed as I would
like. Wait.? He raised an
imperious hand as she
opened her mouth.
?I?m sorry, but since Ron
retired I?ve found quite a
few shortcomings in the
general running of this
branch.?
Joanna was
dumbfounded. She?d
always found Ron to be a
marvellous manager. But
was that because he?d
generally left her alone?
Trusted her to do things?
Had she been resting on
her laurels, letting things
slide?
He had been tired, not in
the best of health. That,
after all, was why he was
taking early retirement.
Perhaps Rachel was right,
she mused, and Ron had
missed things he?d usually
have picked up in a
heartbeat.
?I?ll leave you to placate
Mr Ranson,? Henry was
saying. ?But sharpen up,
please, Joanna. I?m not too
She realised she wasn?t doing her
job well at the moment
slip lately, with looming
retirement and ill health. It
happens.?
?Yes, well, this new
broom isn?t sweeping me
clean,? Joanna snapped.
?I?m an extremely good
negotiator, with a great
team. How dare Henry
swan in and start throwing
his weight about??
?Because he?s the
manager,? Rachel answered
mildly. ?I?m just saying,
sweetie. Well, I must go.
happy with things.? He
swept out of the office.
?Oh, dear, trouble at
t?mill??
Joanna nearly jumped out
of her skin as Daniel
Delaney spoke. She hadn?t
seen him come in. Where
had he sprung from?
?Henry?s only doing his
job, you know.? Daniel?s
words interrupted her
churning thoughts. ?Have
you ever thought what it?s
like for him? He?s come into
the branch to replace a
manager who he knows was
loved and revered.
?More than that, he?s
also having to pull up not
only you, but members of
your team ? for whom, of
course, you are responsible.
And, actually, things aren?t
right across the branch in
general.?
?Who are you?? Joanna
frowned. ?Are you from
Far from the ?people
person? Ron had trained
her to be, she was
forgetting the most
important thing in the
equation: the feelings of her
vendors and purchasers at
this extremely stressful time
of their lives.
And what about Harry?s
feelings? Horrified, she
realised she was taking out
on Harry her resentment at
She had taken out her resentment
on Harry, she realised
Head Office??
?I suppose you could say
that,? Daniel replied. ?Now,
I want you to try seeing
things from Henry?s point of
view and being a little more
co-operative. Maybe look
to yourself as well? You
might be surprised.?
Joanna?s phone rang and
even as she turned to
answer it she realised
Daniel had gone. He must
move at the speed of light.
She dealt with her call,
then, taking a deep breath,
she rang Mr Ranson. She
hadn?t been very patient
with him, she admitted
guiltily. She hadn?t really
listened to his reasons for
his prevarication.
She managed to
straighten things out to his
satisfaction. As she said
goodbye, he even thanked
her for her call. He realised,
he said, that he?d been
difficult, but since his wife
had died he?d been having
trouble coping.
?It was good of you to
call and smooth things over
with a troublesome old
man, Joanna,? he said. ?I
appreciate it.?
?I?m just doing my job,?
Joanna said softly, feeling
guiltier than ever as she
realised she wasn?t doing
her job at all well at the
moment.
And she certainly hadn?t
dealt with Mr Ranson as
she should. How on earth
had she missed that he?d
recently lost his wife?
Joanna found her eyes
full of tears. Mortified, she
was beginning to realise
she?d morphed into an
unpleasant person in her
relentless pursuit of sales
and purchase figures.
having her easygoing life
disrupted by Ron?s
retirement.
No, she snuffled, she was
not a nice person at all.
?Are you feeling better
now?? Daniel?s voice cut
through her thoughts as she
dabbed at her eyes.
She hastily pushed the
crumpled tissue up her
sleeve and gazed at him in
amazement.
?How do you do that??
she asked, bemused. ?How
do you suddenly appear
and disappear like you do??
?Oh, Joanna, my dear, I
am where I?m needed to
be,? was his enigmatic
reply.
?Ah,? he went on, before
she could think up a
suitably tart retort, ?your
telephone is ringing again.
But before you answer it,
Joanna, remember this.
When it seems you?re
continually rubbing
somebody up the wrong
way, and they you, then
always look into your own
heart for the answer.?
Glancing down to pick up
her phone and then retrieve
the relevant file in order to
deal with the query raised,
it didn?t surprise her when
she looked up a moment
later and found that Daniel
was gone.
This was getting
ridiculous. Who on earth
was he? She really must
talk to Harry, find out what
department or branch he
was from. He could be
anybody.
* * * *
Joanna stayed late that
night. She was determined,
once she?d read
through some
FANTASTIC
SUBSCRIPTION OFFERS!
�49
The Time
Of The
Flood
In time of need
we must all pull
together . . .
9771758163057
44
AU $8.95, NZ $9.80
UK Off-sale date - 16-Nov-17
�
�49
#847
SAVE OVER
Larger
Print
SAVE OVER
�
Miranda Barnes
THE PEOPLE?S FRiEnd
SPECiALS
THE PEOPLE?S FRiEnd
POCKET nOVELS
ONLY �every 3 months by Direct Debit*
FIRST 6 ISSUES ONLY �22
One year price: �
The People?s Friend Special is the perfect
companion to the weekly magazine, with
14 short stories, puzzles, cookery, craft and
travel in every three-weekly issue.
PLUS FREE Sea Salt Caramel &
Chocolate Fudge Gift Set.
WORTH �.00
�.50 per quarter thereafter.
One year price: �.72
Every Pocket Novel contains one
novel length story packed with
romance and drama. There are two
new titles every month, published
in a handy, lightweight pocket-sized
format.
PLUS FREE Freshwater
Cultured Pearly Jewellery Set.
WORTH �.99
It?s EASY TO ORDER!
FREEPHONE 0800 318 846 quoting PFNVE.
Free from UK landlines and mobiles only.
Lines open 8am-6pm Mon-Fri, 9am-5pm Sat. Overseas +44 1382 575580
ONLINE www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk/subscriptions
Download our digital app, search:
The People?s Friend
ANDROID APP ON
*DIRECT DEBIT: Prices and savings quoted are for UK delivery by payment by Direct Debit. UK bank accounts only. One year minimum term applies. Prepay and overseas options are also available
for credit/debit card and cheque orders. Overseas callers, dial +44 1382 575580 or visit www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk. FREE GIFT: Please allow up to 28 days for delivery of free gift. Available to all
new and renewing customers. Renewal orders are for payment of Direct Debit only. Should the gift pictured be unavailable, a replacement gift will be sent. GENERAL: For overseas enquiries, please
contact: +44 1382 575580, or email shop@dcthomson.co.uk. Offer ends 31st December 2017.
58
observations she?d
noted on a particularly
tricky sale, to research the
enigma that was Daniel
Delaney. Then she could
discuss it with Harry.
Deep into the notes, a
cough at her door made her
jump so much she let out a
shriek.
?You nearly gave me a
heart attack!? Despite
herself, Joanna had to
laugh at the ridiculous
sound she?d made.
?Sorry,? Harry said,
coming into her office. ?I
didn?t mean to startle you.?
She watched in
fascination as a very
attractive answering grin lit
up his face. With a start
she realised he was
probably only in his early
thirties, same as her. His
manner and attitude had
made her think of him as
much older.
?Have you nearly
finished?? he asked. ?Look,
you and I didn?t get off to a
very good start, did we?
Can I take you for a drink
and maybe talk about it??
Joanna hesitated, then
remembered Daniel
Delaney?s words. She
should give Harry a break;
she hadn?t been fair to him.
Especially as, to her
chagrin, she was realising
his attitude was actually
justified.
?Please, Joanna, we
really do need to talk.?
The plea, accompanied
by another fabulous smile,
made up her mind for her.
At the wine bar round the
corner from Duncans, over
a beer for him and a glass
of wine for Joanna, Harry
told her he?d been
it easier was that it was a
new start, at least.? He
took a glug of his beer. ?A
long-term relationship had
just ended.?
?I?m sorry, Harry,?
Joanna said softly, feeling
guiltier than ever, if that
was possible.
The poor man?s world
had been turned upside
down even more than hers
had.
At least when her latest
relationship had fizzled out
it had been with no regrets
on either side.
?Oh, it had been on the
cards for a while. It?s still
painful when it ends
though, isn?t it? But then,?
Harry went on, ?when I
learned things had slipped
in the branch I found it
quite difficult to do the
?manager? bit.?
He made quote signs in
the air with a rueful half
smile.
?Especially in such a
well-established main
branch. Because I was
stepping into Ron?s shoes I
suppose I assumed I would
find things running like
clockwork. It was very
difficult, and rather a
shock, when they weren?t.?
?I didn?t realise Ron had
let things slip,? Joanna
confessed. ?Looking back,
though, I can see that
towards his retirement he
didn?t come into the office
as much, and I know in the
end he couldn?t wait to go.
I was dreading him retiring,
so I don?t suppose I dwelled
on it. Buried my head in the
sand, maybe.?
?Well,? Harry said, ?no
matter what the
circumstances, it was
She should give Harry a break ?
she hadn?t been fair to him
uprooted from his branch
and, with hardly any
warning, transferred to this
one.
?I was assistant manager
where I was before, and I
was pretty happy there,?
he said wistfully. ?So, from
the start, I wasn?t too
pleased about what had
happened to me.?
Regret was obvious in his
tone.
?The only thing that made
obvious that Ron had been
idolised and revered.?
He gave a tired smile and
took another large gulp of
his beer
?And I was not. I was
resented, to say the least.
I?m not sure I?m actually
very good manager
material.?
?You are!?
Joanna was surprised to
find herself reassuring him,
and even more surprised
that she was finding him so
easy to talk to.
Could she honestly feel
any more awful?
?We?ve none of us made
it easy for you.?
She blushed.
?I know I certainly didn?t.
But you stuck to your guns
and, well, you certainly
delivered a few muchneeded home truths to
me.?
Delia Duncan, the
granddaughter of David
Duncan, the company?s
highly respected founder.
Mr Delaney took a
leading role in the running
of Duncans, his primary
function troubleshooting at
the various branches of the
rapidly expanding
company.
?Oh, my goodness,?
Joanna moaned.
As she read the article a chill ran
down her spine
She held out her hand.
?It?s a bit late, Harry, but
welcome to the branch. I?m
sure things will be different
now.?
Grinning, they shook
hands.
As she drove home
Joanna felt happier than
she had done since Ron?s
retirement. And she
couldn?t be sure, of course,
but she?d thought she?d felt
a bit of a moment as she
and Harry had shaken
hands and their eyes had
met.
Who would have thought
it, she mused. What a
difference a day made. And
meeting someone halfway,
of course.
As she put her key in the
door she realised she?d
forgotten to ask him about
the mysterious Daniel
Delaney.
* * * *
Clutching a hot chocolate
in her favourite mug, she
settled in her big squashy
armchair and typed in
Duncans/Daniel Delaney on
her laptop.
She nearly dropped the
hot chocolate as she read
one of the links.
Funeral Of Duncans
Manager Daniel Delaney.
?What?? With trembling
hands, she clicked on the
link.
As she tried to digest the
words before her, icy
fingers inched their way up
and down her spine. How
could this be?
Born in 1919, Daniel
Delaney joined the
esteemed company of
Duncans Estate Agents in
1949. In 1954 he married
Daniel Delaney tragically
met his death in 1974 at
the age of fifty-five in a car
accident. In her eulogy at
her husband?s funeral,
Delia recounted that when
she and Daniel had first
met they?d always
managed to rub one
another up the wrong way.
?But somehow, despite
that, I always knew he was
the one for me, and I
recalled what my
grandfather had always
taught both our own family,
and also our large Duncans
family, about life and
business.
??When it seems you are
continually rubbing
somebody up the wrong
way, and they you, then
always look into your own
heart for the answer.?
?I?m so glad I heeded my
grandfather?s wise words
because, although we had
too short a time together,
we were so very happy.?
Staring straight out of her
laptop screen, eyes boring
into hers, was none other
than the Daniel Delaney
who had ? there was no
other word for it, Joanna
acknowledged ? haunted
her office.
Strangely, she felt no
fear. Daniel, as he?d said in
his own cryptic way, had
indeed been ?where he was
needed to be?, passing on
the simple philosophy of
the founder of the
company.
And most successfully,
too, Joanna acknowledged.
?Thank you, Daniel
Delaney,? she whispered to
the image.
She could have sworn he
winked. n
Inside next week?s issue
Our cover feature:
Willie Shand enjoys
an autumnal walk
at Moncrieffe Hill
On sale
every
Wednesday
l We meet
some of
Flyer?s pony
pals at
Cotswold
RDA
l Try our
beautiful
cardigan in
shades of
purple and
blue
Plus
7 short stories
l Not just
for your
breakfast
? versatile
recipes
using oats
Never miss The People?s Friend again, with a subscription from our shop.
Visit www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk or call 0800 318846.
A new
Special on
sale every
Out
3 weeks! now
Available to buy from all good
newsagents and supermarkets
You can also take out
a subscription ? call
0800 318846 or visit
www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
SHORT STORY BY ALISON CARTER 61
In Remembrance
He had fought
and died in that
Belgian town,
and I knew I
must visit . . .
Illustration by Mandy Dixon.
I
DIDN?T think to look
further into the life of
my great-grandfather
until I had children of my
own. It was only when I
saw the new generations
begin to stretch out in front
of me that the generations
behind seemed to appear
out of the mist.
Roy Littler was born in
1914. He and his wife Ivy
had one daughter when Roy
was twenty-five, and that
daughter had a son in
1961 and another in 1963.
Their first son is my
father. I have two sisters
and, recently, twins of my
own.
So, there you have it ? a
little section of my family
tree, not interesting on its
own, a twig with people
perched on its side shoots.
Roy never met any of
those people, except his
wife and his daughter,
though he knew her only
briefly. Roy died falling
from a plane as it
plummeted, smoking and
twisting, towards the
ploughed earth of a field in
France.
It was July of 1944 and
he was the pilot of the
plane. I had always known
that much about Roy,
because it was woven into
family legend.
I was also dimly aware of
Roy as a hero. All those
men and women who died
for freedom were heroes in
their different ways, and I
simply included my greatgrandfather in the set.
My granny told me that
her mother (Roy?s wife, Ivy)
shut her grief away, and
with it most information
about the man himself.
Ivy died long before I was
born, and so the story I
carried about with me in
the back of my
consciousness had never
really been fleshed out.
Of course, like my
contemporaries I don?t
naturally shut things away.
I?m of the Facebook
generation, which wears its
heart on its sleeve.
Relationships are
important to us, and the
birth of my own children
gave me an itch to fill gaps
in the family tree, label
those fine connecting lines,
and especially to find out
about Roy.
My great-grandmother
Ivy was born exactly a
hundred years ago in 1917,
and that motivated me
further.
What if I could eventually
present to Carrie and
Martha (my twins) a
century of family stories?
It was genuinely a
coincidence when my
granny decided to move
house, and in the process
we cleared out a loft that
was in a shocking state
after so many decades of
family occupation.
?I know,? she said. ?I
hoard. Once a few decades
have gone by one kind of
loses the momentum to
move the boxes behind the
boxes behind the boxes.?
Among the boxes was a
briefcase: a soft brown,
faded, dusty thing. In it we
found what Ivy had stowed
away, probably in 1944,
probably out of grief.
My granny and I were
emotional as we opened it.
I could feel the tension
coming off her.
It was neatly packed, a
contrast to the loft space
around it.
The medals, the cap with
its still-bright gold
embroidery, the cigarette
tin, the bits and pieces that
had presumably been
carried back from Belgium
? they were one thing.
Quite another thing was
Roy?s messy notebook, and
his handwriting, which was
so like mine.
Underneath that was a
note of the Flanders
cemetery where he had
been laid to rest, and also
a note to Ivy from the other
men in the plane, all of
whom had bailed out,
leaving the pilot alone.
?That was the way, I
think,? my granny said
quietly. ?That was the
pilot?s job, or part of it, to
be last man.?
I had to go to that
cemetery. To me, it felt
strange and sad that Roy
had not been visited.
I knew that my
perspective on it was
different, and formed
in ignorance of how it
62
had been back then.
Ivy had made her own
choices as best she could
and to ease her pain. But I
persuaded my partner Pete
that, for our first holiday
with the babies, we should
go to Belgium.
?The documents are
vague about the place
where the plane came
down,? I told Pete, ?but it?s
the grave that?s important.?
?And less important is
having two little girls whose
nappies need changing six
times a day and who cry in
strict rotation?? Pete asked.
But he wasn?t serious. He
knew I wouldn?t change my
mind.
I added weight to my
argument by reminding
Pete that his old friend
Patrice could come and see
us from his home in
Brussels. Patrice was
Tunisian by birth, and
usefully spoke French and
also Flemish for his work.
?He?s never changed a
nappy, to my knowledge,?
Pete teased.
?We can train him,? I
said.
Pete booked a cottage,
and we arrived for our
week?s holiday. I took care
not to launch immediately
into ?Project Roy?, because
this was our holiday, so we
pootled about with the
girls, eating Belgian food
and sunning ourselves in
the brief gaps between
baby needs.
Patrice showed up, and
we ventured out in his car
to some of the pretty
villages nearby. It was flat
country but lush, and the
villages had austere
red-brick churches, trees
planted in rows along the
centre of diamond-paved
streets, and bicycles
stacked against walls.
Around them stretched
miles and miles of
farmland, and as we drove
along with the girls asleep
in the back, I imagined Roy
zooming overhead.
I wondered what missions
he?d been on, how useful
they had been, and which
piece of earth had claimed
his precious life.
In an unremarkable little
village called Oud
Zonnelerden I suggested we
get a coffee.
Pete smiled at me from
the back seat.
?There?s no need to
pretend, Grace. I know this
is a stop-off before we find
the cemetery. I?m aware it?s
nearby.?
The twins were both still
asleep so we very nearly
didn?t stop. We?d learned
not to risk waking sleeping
babies. But Patrice pointed
out where we could park
opposite the village?s one
caf�.
?We can watch them from
the outdoor seats,? he said.
So we stopped in Oud
Zonnelerden, and of course
Carrie and Martha woke up
and we ended up putting
them in the double buggy
and walking them round the
village.
Rounding a corner, we
found ourselves in a square
with a water pump.
?Is that drinking water??
Patrice asked. ?If so, I bless
the townsfolk of Oud
Zonnelerden for their good
decisions.?
We sat on a bench in
front of a wooden sign. It
was a big, grandiose thing
with a gilt edge, and was
clearly painted or retouched
regularly.
?Oh, my goodness, is this
a list of war dead?? I asked.
?What if ??
?Roy wouldn?t be on
here, Grace,? Pete
interrupted. ?If it was war
dead, it would be Belgians
? men of the village.?
Patrice turned and
kneeled on the bench.
?Actually, it?s not,? he
said, pushing up his
sunglasses to read. ?It?s a
list of notable residents.
?We?ve got all the local
council leaders since Roman
times, as far as I can tell; a
farmer who saved another
farmer pinned down by a
bull in 1962; and a pupil at
the school who went on to
become big in conservation
in Bruges. Oh, a few
Brussels civil servants, of
course.?
?And my greatgrandfather,? I said.
?What?? Pete and Patrice
said together.
?Look,? I said.
It was just the name,
halfway down the second
column ? Roy William
Littler. Fg Off.
?How many Flying
Officers were there called
Roy William Littler?? I
asked. ?No, don?t answer
that because I know from
my research. There?s one.?
?But he didn?t live here,?
Pete said. ?He died here.
Well, somewhere near.?
?It?s not impossible that
he did spend time in
Belgium, I suppose. I know
so little about him.?
?But that would be a very
weird coincidence,? Patrice
for them.?
I stared at Patrice and
the man, and the
newcomers. The man in
jeans pointed between the
rows of houses, out to
endless fields, yellow and
every shade of green in the
sunshine, and spoke.
?The villagers brought
Roy?s body back here,?
Patrice translated.
The man?s chest rose and
I was beginning to picture all sorts
of new elements to the story
said, and he was right.
I was beginning to picture
all sorts of new elements to
the story ? Roy the
traveller, Roy who was
really half-Belgian, Roy the
spy.
Patrice was clambering
off the bench.
?Hang on. Let me ask
someone.?
A man of about eighty
was crossing the square
purposefully. He looked as
if he was heading
somewhere important, but
Patrice asked him in
Flemish if he had a
moment, wheeled the
buggy away so as to
indicate the board, and
questioned the gentleman
politely.
Then he turned to me.
?I?ve asked about the
extraordinary coincidence
of a British RAF officer
living here, when we know
that he was shot down in
the vicinity,? Patrice said.
shrugging.
By this time a small group
had gathered: a mum with
a boy of about ten, and
another elderly gentleman,
this time in ancient jeans
and a shirt scattered with
bits of straw.
The first elderly man was
peering at the board from
close range, the others
watching him. His face lit
up and he began talking at
speed to Patrice.
?He says that Roy Littler
is a famous resident,?
Patrice said, his face a
picture of astonishment.
The other villagers were
nodding, and smiling at me.
?He says they regard him
as a resident. They made
him a citizen for all time,
when he fought and died
fell violently as he spoke.
The mother stepped over
and laid a hand on my arm,
sensing from my expression
that I had a stake in the
story.
?They looked after him
until the authorities
arrived,? Patrice continued.
?They were told his name
and rank and what he did
? destroying a weapons
store hidden among the
farms here. Yes??
Patrice turned to the man
in jeans, who was eager to
add more.
?Oh, yes,? Patrice said.
?Belgium was occupied.
Roy most probably
prevented towns and
villages from being
destroyed, and prevented
innocent deaths.?
The man with the
briefcase stepped towards
me and smiled.
?You are this man?s
family?? he asked in
English.
I nodded.
?Our village is not
special,? he said. ?Just a
village. Roy Littler fell here,
so we must remember
him.?
The young mother
pushed her son towards
the sign, encouraging him
to read, then spoke to
Patrice.
?She says he is the war
hero of Zonnelerden,?
Patrice said. ?One of their
own. Her greatgrandparents brought him
back here and wept over
him.
?Why are you surprised
that he is written here? He
was the only person from
Oud Zonnelerden to die in
that war, our resident, and
so we honour him.? n
my garden
Notes from
Alexandra Campbell champions
growing your own hedge.
Photographs by Alexandra Campbell and iStock.
Give It Away
If you?re clearing out
your shed or garage,
you may be able to give
things away rather than
adding to landfill. There
are two sites called
Freegle (www.
ilovefreegle.org) and
Freecycle (www.
freecycle.org).
You sign up online.
Then you list what you
want to give away. If
anyone wants it, they
come to collect it.
Some people collect
old garden tools and
lawnmower parts.
N
OW is a good
time to plant a
hedge (unless
you are already
getting frosts).
May I ask you to consider
adding a little more hedging
to your life?
Hedges are wonderful for
wildlife. In Britain, you can
usually grow a hedge a little
higher than a fence, so they
are good for privacy, too.
And they are a compact
way of increasing greenery
in your environment so they
improve air quality.
At RHS Wisley, there is a
display for ?Greening Grey
Britain?, which shows a
front garden with a small,
low hedge as a divider
between the parking space
and the front path.
It?s neatly clipped and
takes up very little space.
But it?s useful at neutralising
car exhausts and looks
smart, too.
There?s a delightful new
trend for ?edible hedges?. A
mixed hedge of elderberries,
dog roses, hazel, crab
apples and wild currants
will give you flowers, nuts
and berries for making jams,
jellies and cordials. Or it?ll
provide food for birds and
pollinating insects.
If you have a small or
narrow garden, you may
think a hedge takes up
too much space. A friend?s
garden is around 18 ft x
30 ft. She?s used the fencing
as support for climbers. Her
?hedging? is made of ivy,
blackberries, passionflower,
honeysuckle and dog roses.
She allows the climbers to
flower and fruit (for wildlife)
and ties or trims back
individual stems if the plants
threaten to get too bulky.
Hedges also make a good
backdrop for your planting.
A neat green privet hedge
is a very attractive foil for
flowers, as well as sheltering
smaller birds from their
bigger predators.
GARDENING 65
Plenty Of Time
To Plant Tulips!
Book Review
Time to read gardening
books and plan next year.
I?ve recently enjoyed
James Wong?s RHS ?Grow
For Flavour?. James is a
passionate botanist and a
great communicator, so his
writing is both easy to
understand and accurate.
?Grow For Flavour? also
has some wonderful
unusual recipes (flower
waters and jellies). He is
also firm about the truth
behind the trends. So he?ll
tell you which flowers you
really can eat.
Priced � from Mitchell
Beazley publishers.
People can be nervous
about choosing the right
hedge. Discuss your soil
and aspect with a specialist
hedge or tree nursery.
Garden centres are great,
but they don?t always have
qualified staff who know
what will suit your needs.
However, many British
hedges are easy to grow,
such as beech, hawthorn
and privet. If you?re planning
a hedge in a shady or very
damp spot, then do consult
a hedging supplier.
It?s also worth planting
the hedge properly. I have
a privet hedge. Four plants
were basically just stuck in
the earth nine years ago.
They took around five years
to turn into a ?proper?
hedge.
Last autumn I decided to
extend it by another four
plants. This time, I took
great care to plant them
properly. (See my ?How To
Plant A Hedge? video on
the Middlesized Garden
Plant your tulips late,
and plant them deep. I?ve
planted tulips successfully
as late as December, but
many people plant them
in late October/November.
Late-planted tulips don?t
get tulip fire so often. If
you plant tulips deeper
than is recommended on
the label, they are less
likely to be dug up by
squirrels. I?ve planted
Ballerina tulips as deeply
as 12 inches in the past,
and they?ve done well.
YouTube channel.)
I dug a trench, filled it
with a mix of tree compost
and well-rotted manure,
then added mycorrhizal
fungi near the roots and
watered it well. The four
new plants are almost
where I want them to be
after just one year.
So how much does a
hedge cost? If you plant at
this time of year, you can
buy ?bare-root hedging?.
The rest of the year, you will
need to buy more expensive
hedging in pots.
Young bare-root hedging
is very cheap ? usually
around �to �a plant. But
it will take three or more
years to be a proper hedge.
Or you can buy an
instant hedge from most
hedging companies. This
will literally be ten times
more expensive (or more!)
at around � to � plus
a plant. But you will get the
look you want immediately.
Happy hedging! n
Visit Alexandra?s blog online at
www.themiddlesizedgarden.co.uk.
Visit A Winter Garden
Visiting gardens used to be a summer activity.
But there?s now a trend towards winter gardens.
Gardens in winter don?t have those glorious
colours and greenery. But they are beautiful if
you focus on the light and the structure. The
classic winter garden is about topiary shapes
outlined with frost. Beautiful!
But now head gardeners and garden designers
are taking winter gardens a step further. They
plan trees and shrubs for the colour and texture
of bare tree bark (for example, cornus and
paperbark maples).
Grasses are left to wave in the wind. Berries
and colourful crab apples offer welcome
punctuation points of colour.
Check amongst your local
open gardens to find a winter
garden to visit. The RHS Hyde
Hall (Essex) has recently
planted one, and the RHS?s
Harlow Carr (Yorkshire) is a
famous winter garden.
Other top winter gardens
include Aberglasney Gardens
(Carmarthenshire), Parkhead
Gardens (Argyll & Bute) and the
Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew
(London).
INSPIRING LIVES 67
Tina with her
family on
graduation
day, and left,
stopping for a
breather on
her running
route.
?I?m pushing
myself further than
I ever have before?
Tina Robertson is now nearing the
end of her year-long running
challenge.
Photographs courtesy of Tina Robertson.
W
HEN Tina
Robertson lost
her beloved
mum after a
short battle
against cancer, she needed
an outlet and focus for her
grief. Grateful for the help
and support the family got,
she chose to channel her
energies into raising money
for charity.
But this was to be no
ordinary, simple fund-raiser.
The thirty-four-year-old
decided to set herself a
mammoth 1,000-mile
running challenge to thank
those who helped care for
her mum.
Tina is raising money for
Macmillan Cancer Support
and for Ward 32 at Ninewells
Hospital in Dundee, where
Christine Roberts, who died
last November at the age of
just fifty-seven, was cared for.
The demanding challenge
Tina set herself is to attempt
to run 1,000 miles before
the year is out ? juggling
this round a full-time job,
two children and a
husband working shifts.
The Carnoustie mum,
who is a university
admissions officer, wants
to give something back to
the people who helped the
family in their hour of
need.
?After Mum died we used
the Macmillan website and
staff for support on how to
understand your feelings
when you have lost a loved
one and to grasp that
people grieve differently,?
Tina, who hopes to raise
�500, explained. ?And the
staff on Ward Thirty-two
were such a comfort at a
very difficult time.?
Tina says she is on target
for hitting the 1,000 mile
challenge, but admits it has
been ?incredibly tough? at
times. However, the
?It?s difficult to juggle the
challenge around such a
busy work and home life. I
go out running four times a
week at lunchtime, doing at
least three miles each time.
?The rest of the runs are
done when my kids are at
their clubs. My husband
works nights, but when he
is around to look after the
kids I try to fit in longer
runs.
?I didn?t fully appreciate
how hard it would be. I
assumed doing three miles
a day would be easy but it
hasn?t been, and on days
when the weather has been
miserable it?s hard to find
the motivation.
?Every now and then my
enthusiasm wanes but I?m
fortunate that I have friends
who run with me, so they
help keep me on track. If
I?m having a bad day, they
push me to go out.
?I must admit my legs are
constantly tired, but I feel
such a buzz when I
complete another run and
chalk up the miles.
?My dad has said to me
many times that he is so
proud of what I?m doing
? and that my mum would
be, too. What better
motivation could I have?? n
If you?d like to help Tina
in her fund-raising efforts,
go to https://www.
gofundme.com/
tinarobertson.
support of her husband,
Colin, and children Danielle,
ten, and Logan, eight, as
well as friends, family and
colleagues, is helping get
her through ? as is the
memory of her mum.
?This is a mammoth
challenge,? Tina admits, ?but
I felt I needed to do
something which would
really test me ? I?m pushing
myself further than I ever
have before.
?I started the challenge on
January the third and recall
feeling quite daunted
when I thought what
Tina clocks up
was ahead ? one
some miles during
thousand miles, to be her lunchtime.
exact! I knew I would
need to be so
disciplined to run nearly
every single day. To go from
very little exercise to that
was scary, but I?m coping
well and keeping fit and
healthy, thankfully.
?I decided to split the run
into mini challenges so that
I can see the progress I am
making along the way. It
also helps keep me
motivated, seeing the
milestones being ticked off.
The
Set
In
1838
Dividing Tide
Illustration by David Young.
The Story So Far
THOMAS GOSS is far
from his Cornish village
home and daughter
JENNA. Goldmining in
Georgia hasn?t made his
fortune but he loves the
country. His Cherokee
friends, KANUNA and
AHYOKA, must leave
their land by order of the
militia, and Thomas
resolves to help them.
In St Austell, England,
GARREN QUICK is
working in the Wheal
Daniel clay mine
managed by the
Nankerris brothers, JAGO
and ARTHEK. On his first
day he runs foul of
Arthek when he enters
the man?s office
unannounced.
Knowing Jenna, his
sweetheart, is staying
with Jago and his wife,
MORWENNA, to fulfil a
family bequest, Garren
decides to surprise her
with a visit but is refused
entry when he gets to
Lord Nankerris?s grand
house.
Unaware Garren is
near, Jenna prepares for
the ball Morwenna is
giving for her daughter,
LAMORNA. During the
evening she is lured into
the gardens by rake
PASCO BULLER, to the
wrath of Morwenna, who
spies them and fears
Jenna is ruining
Lamorna?s chances with
the eligible bachelor.
After venting her fury
on Jenna, Morwenna
collapses, to the alarm of
everyone . . .
Garren?s heart sank as he saw the
gap that had opened between him
and the girl he loved . . .
T
HE doctor finished
examining
Morwenna and
stood up.
His eyes held hers
as she lay on the high
four-poster bed.
?Lady Nankerris, I am not
sure how you will greet
what I am about to say.?
She pulled herself up into
a sitting position but her
forehead pounded all the
more. She slid back down.
?I know I am of a certain
age, Doctor,? she said
curtly. ?What else is there
to know? It was not
necessary for my daughter
to have asked you to call.?
He smiled.
?You are with child, Lady
Nankerris,? he said gently.
?Don?t be absurd!? She
scowled. ?Do not toy with
me, young man. I am in no
mood for it.?
He drew up a chair.
?I am not toying with you,
I assure you.?
She tried to take in what
he had said. With child? It
was impossible.
?Doctor, I?m forty-three.?
?It is not uncommon,? he
said, his smile widening.
Her fingers plucked at the
green brocade coverlet.
SERIAL BY LORNA HOWARTH: PART 5 OF 8 69
?No, no, no,? she said,
?it cannot be!?
She shook her head. Pain
drummed in her temples.
?My husband and I
always hoped to have
another child, but after all
these years? I?m sorry. You
must be mistaken.?
?Lady Nankerris, I am
absolutely certain that you
and his Lordship will have a
new arrival in early summer
next year.?
Her mind was in a whirl.
A baby! Was it possible?
Twenty years after her first
child, when she had
completely given up all
hope of another?
Suddenly, everything that
had happened recently
came together in a single
moment of clarity and she
knew it was true. The sense
of nausea, the tiredness,
the shortness of temper.
Why, she had been
exactly the same in the
early months when she had
been carrying Lamorna.
She felt her lips stretch
into a smile. She and Jago
might have the son they?d
wished so long for!
She brought back her
attention as the doctor
began speaking again.
?Lady Nankerris, there is
also some news you may
not wish to hear.?
?Is there something
wrong?? Suddenly, she
realised she wanted this
baby above all else.
He frowned.
?Not wrong as such, if
you follow my advice. I am
prescribing complete bed
rest for you for the
moment. There are some
indications . . .? He
paused. ?Let me say that it
would be advisable to rest
at this juncture.?
?Doctor Hopgood, I
cannot take to my bed!
Who will run the house, or
accompany my husband to
his business functions? And
my charitable works ? who
will undertake those??
He stood up.
?None of us is
indispensable, not even
you, Lady Nankerris,? he
said. ?The matter is simple.
You must rest if you wish
for a healthy outcome.?
She felt a knot of anxiety
within her. Of course she
wished for a healthy
outcome. She wished for it
more than anything.
She was about to say so
when the door opened and
Jago strode in.
?Morwenna! Whatever is
the matter?? He looked
from her to the doctor, and
back again. ?Lamorna sent
word for me to return
home. What happened??
?Please be reassured,
sir,? Dr Hopgood
intervened. ?Your wife has
suffered a collapse, but she
is much improved already.?
Morwenna had a lump in
her throat as she looked up
at her husband. She held
out her hand to him, and he
took it, sitting on the edge
of the bed beside her.
?What is it, my darling??
he asked, his face pale.
?Doctor, please tell me
what?s going on.?
?Her ladyship will be
quite well if she follows the
advice I have given her.?
?What do you mean,
man??
?Listen, dearest.? She
held her breath as she
searched his face. ?We?re
going to have a child.?
There was a long silence
with only the tick of the
mantel clock to be heard.
Then he smiled and
suddenly he was holding
her in his arms, his tears
mingling with hers as their
cheeks pressed together.
* * * *
Morwenna rested for the
rest of the day, but by the
following afternoon, though
she still had a headache,
she was growing restless.
She rang the bell for
Lamorna to be sent to her.
?Read to me. My eyes
hurt too much to focus on
words, and if I do not have
something to occupy me I
shall go out of my mind.?
?Of course, Mama.?
Lamorna sat down but as
she did so she glanced
longingly through the
window at the bright
January sunshine. ?What is
it to be? One of Papa?s
books from the library??
?Those dry old things?
Certainly not. Something by
Mr Dickens. ?The Pickwick
Papers?. You will find the
journals in the bottom
drawer of the map chest,
beneath the estate maps.?
?Mama!? Lamorna
laughed. ?You put your
stories right under Papa?s
nose? What would he say if
he knew? You know he
thinks reading fiction is a
frivolous pastime.?
?That was part of the
fun.? She laughed, too.
Lamorna disappeared
and five minutes later was
making herself as
comfortable as she could
on the horse-hair chair by
the bed. Then she began.
?Slowly!? Morwenna
demanded after a few
moments. ?I can?t
understand a word you?re
saying. Why do you have to
speak so fast??
Lamorna glanced again at
the window, where the
afternoon sun was dropping
on to the carpet, then, with
a sigh, began again.
?Now you?re reading too
softly. I can?t make out
what you?re saying at all.?
She held up her hand.
?And how am I supposed
to lose myself in the story if
you?re constantly looking at
the window as if you wished
Jenna did as she was
told, but the concerned
look only increased when
Morwenna handed her the
journal.
?You?d better start at the
beginning,? she said.
She saw Jenna?s cheeks
redden. What had she said
now? Had she made the girl
so very afraid of her?
?Well?? she prompted.
?I don?t know my letters,
Aunt.? Jenna?s cheeks
flushed even deeper.
?Don?t know your
letters!? Morwenna looked
at her in surprise. ?At your
age? Really, I think I was
right. You are no more
elevated than our
servants.?
But as she looked at
Jenna?s bowed head and
the droop of her shoulders,
Morwenna felt a glimmer of
sympathy. She knew what
it was like to be set apart
by circumstance.
When her father?s
gambling debts had cost
them their home, their
Morwenna could hardly take in
what the doctor was saying
you were outside? I
suppose you?re worried
about missing your ride.?
Lamorna placed the
journal down on her lap.
?I am sorry, Mama. It?s
just that the day is such a
fine one. It?ll be dark in a
couple of hours, and I do so
love a gallop.?
?Oh, for goodness? sake,
go,? Morwenna ordered.
?Send one of the maids in
to make up the fire, then
ask your cousin to come to
me.?
In a flash, Lamorna was
at the door. Once there she
paused.
?I am glad about the
baby, you know, Mama,?
she said softly.
Before Morwenna could
reply, she was gone.
Dear child, what a sweet
thing to say. Morwenna lay
back and closed her eyes,
overcome with tiredness.
Perhaps the young doctor
had been right, after all, to
make her rest.
She opened her eyes to
find Jenna standing beside
her, looking worried.
?Sit down, child. I won?t
bite,? she told her.
status had plummeted and
the people she?d thought
were their friends had
ostracised them.
?Go and fetch a slate.?
Her tone, if not gentle, was
no longer harsh. ?I will
teach you.?
* * * *
Garren strode down the
path leading from the crib
hut, a heavy black kettle in
his hand.
The bright winter day was
in contrast to his mood.
He?d been disappointed
when the captain had taken
him from the clay store and
put him to work as an
errand boy. Surely he was
worth more than that?
?Sorry, lad,? the captain
had said. ?Nothin? to do
with me. Boss?s orders.?
Garren hadn?t needed to
ask which of the two
Nankerris brothers he?d
meant. Arthek had had his
eye on him ever since he?d
walked into his office on
that first day. Garren knew
he was being reminded to
keep his mouth shut.
And now he?d been
given the job of kettle
Beautiful Blooms
What could be easier or more beautiful as the days grow shorter and colder than these
lovely amaryllis blooms? Our pre-planted gifts come complete with contemporary
spherical containers and are ideal for filling your festive season with some floral interest.
This stylish display is perfect for table centrepieces and indoor arrangements.
Each bulb will form multiple stems which will emerge from the ball
producing giant trumpeted blooms in stunning Christmas colours.
Order before the 12th of December to guarantee Christmas delivery.
Buy two for � or three for only �, saving �
Buy 3
And sAve
�
How the bulbs are supplied
Name .................................................................................
Address ..............................................................................
..............................................................................................
..............................................................................................
............................................ Postcode ..............................
Telephone .........................................................................
Email Address ..................................................................
PLEASE SEND ME
CODE
QTY
PRICE
2 RED AMARYLLIS
IN RED ROUND PLASTIC BALL
3 RED AMARYLLIS
IN RED ROUND PLASTIC BALL
2 WHITE AMARYLLIS
IN WHITE ROUND PLASTIC BALL
3 WHITE AMARYLLIS
IN WHITE ROUND PLASTIC BALL
AMARYLLIS x 2 (1 WHITE, 1 RED)
PAR02
�.00
PAR03
�.00
PAW02
�.00
PAW03
�.00
PAM02
�.00
TOTAL
P&P
Total Cost Of Order
�95
�
I enclose a cheque/postal order, made payable to HAYLOFT PLANTS LTD for the
total amount of � ........................... and with my name and address on the back.
Or charge my: Maestro / Delta / MasterCard / Visa
Start Date ........ /........ Expiry Date ........ /........ Issue No ??.? (Maestro only)
Card No .................................................................. Security No ..............................
Cardholder?s Signature .............................................................................................
Name on Card ............................................................................................................
Offer open to UK readers only and is subject to availability. All plants will be
despatched within 14 days. Online orders will receive an order acknowledgement
via email with approximate delivery date. Offer closes 10/12/2017. We reserve the
right to send suitable substitutes or for paid for items, offer a refund. Reader Offers
cannot be used in conjunction with any other promotions or discounts. Your contract
is with Hayloft, a company wholly independent of ?The People?s Friend?.
DC Thomson & Co Ltd and its group companies would like to contact you about
new products, services and offers we think may be of interest to you. If you?d like to
hear from us by post, please tick here ? telephone, please tick here ? or email,
please tick here ?. From time to time, carefully chosen partner businesses would
like to contact you with relevant offers. If you?d like to hear from partner businesses
for this purpose please tick here ?
mAkes
The
PeRFecT
giFT!
CALL:
01386 426245 quoting ROPF17-48
Calls will cost a maximum of 5p per minute from a BT line, mobile and other service providers? rates may vary.
Lines open seven days a week 7am-11pm. Please have your credit/debit card details to hand.
ONLINE: www.hayloft-plants.co.uk/ROPF
BY POST:
Complete coupon using BLOCK CAPITALS. Payment may be
made by cheque (name/address on the back of cheque) and made payable
to Hayloft Plants Ltd, or by filling in card details. Send completed order forms
and payment to:
?The People?s Friend? Amaryllis ROPF17-48 Offer,
PO BOX 2020, Pershore, WR10 9BP.
71
boy while young Jimmy
was off sick with scarlet
fever! It was degrading.
Kettle boy was a job for
lads straight out of school,
not a grown man.
He skirted the settling
tanks and coal shed and
headed for the water pump.
He?d just placed the kettle
down when he heard a soft
thundering sound.
He stood up, listening.
The sound grew louder and
louder until suddenly, a
carriage turned into the
entrance of the mine.
He watched Arthek pull
hard on the horse?s reins as
he attempted the sharp
turn into the yard.
He?ll never make it, he
thought, holding his breath.
A moment later, there was
a high-pitched whinny and
a loud crash.
Garren began running,
past the pumping shed and
down into the yard. The
carriage was on its side, its
uppermost wheel spinning.
The horse had broken free
and was disappearing in the
direction of the clay pits.
His first instinct was to
run after the horse and
stop it before it did any
damage, but a groan from
beneath the carriage
stopped him. Arthek was
trapped, the heavy
structure pinned across his
chest. His eyes bulged and
his face was turning blue.
Garren assessed the
situation. If the carriage
wasn?t lifted immediately,
the man was going to die.
Shouting for help, he
stooped down and cupped
his hands beneath the edge
of the carriage, and
heaved. Nothing.
He redoubled his efforts
until his arms felt they were
being wrenched out of their
sockets. The carriage lifted
an inch, then, agonisingly
slowly, another inch and
another, until he was
bearing the entire weight of
it. He was rewarded by the
sound of coughing as
Arthek began to breathe.
Every fibre in Garren?s
body screamed for him to
put the carriage down, but
if he did Arthek would stop
breathing again. Somehow
he had to keep holding up
the cart until help arrived.
Sweat trickled down his
face. Every second seemed
like an hour but at last, just
when he thought he could
hold on no longer, he heard
shouting and the stomp of
boots on the cobbles.
He felt the weight of the
carriage lifted from him.
?All right, son,? a voice
said. ?We?ve got it now.?
Arthek was pulled to
safety and lay breathing
noisily on the ground. He
opened his eyes and their
gaze met. A moment later
he was carried away to his
office. A boy went to fetch
the doctor from St Austell.
?All right, you lot,? the
captain said to the men.
?Show?s over. Get this
carriage upright, then back
to work.?
Garren turned to go, but
he felt a hand restrain him.
?Not you. Wait here.?
His shoulder ached and
he rubbed it as he watched
the captain disappear into
Arthek?s office. Surely he
wasn?t in trouble again?
Should he have waited
before trying to help? But if
he had, Arthek Nankerris
might well have died.
When the captain
returned a few minutes
later, he stood in front of
Garren, his arms folded
across his chest.
?You did well, lad.?
Garren looked at him in
surprise.
?I saw what happened,?
he continued. ?If you hadn?t
lifted the cart when you did,
I reckon he?d have been a
goner. You?re a hero.?
He smiled and held out
his hand. Garren took it,
and grimaced.
?Go and wait in my
office,? the captain
commanded. ?When the
doc has finished with the
boss, I?ll get him to take a
look at that shoulder.?
An hour later, Garren was
pronounced fit except for a
small tear to the muscle in
his shoulder. The doctor
gave him some liniment.
?A strong man like you
will soon heal,? he said.
?But light duties for a week,
Captain.?
?Yes, Doctor. Matter of
fact,? he added, ?we?re
moving him back to the
linhay when he?s recovered,
if that?s all right with you,
son??
Garren nodded.
When the doctor had
gone, he added, ?Thank
you, sir.?
?Don?t thank me.? The
captain smiled. ?It was the
boss?s orders. It?s his way
of showing his gratitude for
what you did.?
* * * *
Garren?s shoulder soon
healed, and he was placed
back in the clay store.
He liked the hustle and
bustle of being adjacent to
the yard. It reminded him
of a sea port and he liked
to see the comings and
goings as he worked.
He was careful never to
be idle, however, nor to
give the captain any cause
for complaint. The last thing
he wanted was to become a
kettle boy again.
One morning in early
January he was shifting a
load of clay on to a waiting
wagon and pondering upon
the problem that so often
beset his mind ? of how he
was ever going to see Jenna
? when he froze, staring in
complete disbelief.
There she was!
Instinctively, he took a
step towards her, his heart
thundering in his chest. Of
all the possible ways of
meeting her again, he had
never once thought she
might come to him!
He stopped. She looked
so grand in her fine dress
and soft leather slippers.
He glanced down at his
dusty boots and working
garb, and stepped back
into the shadowy interior of
the linhay.
Jago said something to
her and she laughed,
setting her shining fair
ringlets bouncing against
her cheek. Garren?s heart
sank as a gap suddenly
yawned between them.
The girl he loved had
become a lady, whilst he
was still the same as ever.
He shrank still further
into the shadows.
?I?ve lost her,? he
whispered.
* * * *
Ahyoka was crooning a
lament as she knelt beside
the newly dug mound of
earth on the hillside above
the cabin.
Hat in hand, Thomas
listened to the eerie sounds
for a while before reaching
out and touching her softly
on the shoulder.
She turned a tearstreaked face towards him.
?Grandfather didn?t have
a priest to perform the
ceremony,? she told him.
?Everyone from the village
has gone. I am the only one
left to mourn.?
?These are difficult times,
Ahyoka,? he said gently.
?Kanuna would understand.
At least he?s been laid to
rest in the land where he
belongs.?
She nodded as she stood
up beside him.
Together they looked at
the view before them, the
dull shine of the river
below, the pine-clad
mountain slopes beyond
and the vast cotton fields
at the end of the valley.
?It is a beautiful place,?
he said, hoping to comfort
her.
He took her arm as they
turned away, in an attempt
to hurry her. The week?s
grace the soldier had given
Ahyoka was up that day,
and the need to leave had
become urgent.
As they turned to retrace
their steps down to the
cabin, Thomas?s worst fears
were realised. He caught a
glimpse of blue uniforms
escorting a straggling line of
Cherokees in the valley
below.
Quickly he drew Ahyoka
behind a rock and
motioned her to be quiet.
His rage against the
authorities grew on a daily
basis as he saw how the
Native Americans were
being made to leave their
own lands.
He had to stop her from
the same fate. He was sure
she wouldn?t survive being
put in a stockade and
forced on such a long
journey in the middle of
winter. Her foot would not
hold up. But how could he
help her?
The answer when it came
was so obvious and so
simple he was amazed that
he hadn?t he thought of it
before.
He said nothing until they
were back at the cabin. He
waited in the cold musty
room as with quiet dignity
she gathered her things
together.
?What is it, Thomas??
72
she said, looking up to
catch his glance. Her
breath was a faint mist in
the cold air. ?I must give
myself up. If I do not, the
soldiers will come and make
me. They have guns,? she
added. ?I have no choice.?
?Not necessarily.?
She looked at him.
?I do not understand.?
?Listen, Ahyoka. If you
become my wife you would
not have to go.?
As he spoke, Thomas
realised how much he
wanted this, how much he
loved her.
Her lips trembled.
?I cannot,? she said.
He stepped closer and
looked into her eyes.
?Why? The law will treat
you differently if you are
my wife.?
She did not reply.
?You cannot go on this
journey,? he insisted. ?Your
foot will not bear it.?
?I will speak what is in my
heart,? she said simply. ?I
have much love for you,
Thomas. It began the day
at the river, the time I first
look up and see you.?
A flood of relief filled him.
?Then . . .?
She shook her head.
?No. I will not let you do
this for my sake. It will
bring only trouble to you.?
?You don?t understand,?
he whispered. ?I have much
love for you, too.? He
smiled. ?I hadn?t realised it.
Even if the situation for
your people was not so
desperate, in time I would
have asked you.?
He dropped to one knee
as he took her hand in his.
?Will you be my wife,
Ahyoka??
She hesitated for a
moment, then she smiled.
?If it is true that you love
me, then, yes, Thomas.?
?Yes??
?Yes,? she whispered
again as he stood up and
took her in his arms.
* * * *
Jenna looked up from the
slate she was practising her
letters upon, rubbed out
what she had written and
began again. She was using
her new skills in the form of
a letter home.
Dear Garren, she wrote,
the lead screeching against
the slate as she
painstakingly formed the
words.
I miss you and Mammwynn more than I can say.
I didn?t even have time to
say goodbye.
She ran out of space and
sat looking down at her
words. If she kept on
improving then, one day,
she might even write a real
letter, with paper and ink
from her uncle?s desk, and
send it with the mail coach
to Bidreath.
She let out a sigh. What
would be the point? Garren
couldn?t read and besides,
even if he could, it wouldn?t
do any good. She?d
promised to stay at
Nankerris House for a year,
and a whole year it had to
be.
She looked through the
window at the yellow
daffodils nodding at the
edge of the shrubbery. It
seemed such a long time
until Michaelmas. How was
she to endure another six
months?
With another sigh, she
reached for a book that
Jago had let her borrow
from the library. It was all
about sea birds and
cliff-top flowers, the shore
and the life of fish that
lived in their seas. It gave
her comfort to look at the
beautiful illustrations for it
reminded her of home.
As she turned the pages
her longing grew, and
gradually an idea began to
form in her mind. By the
time the gong sounded for
supper she had a plan.
The following morning she
knocked on the door of the
library. She knew her uncle
would be there for he never
travelled to the mine until
after luncheon on the
Sabbath.
?Come!? His deep voice
came faintly through the
thick wood.
She pushed open the
door and stepped inside.
Jago looked up from the
stack of papers on his desk.
?Ah, Jenna. I?m rather
busy. Can it wait??
?I?m sorry, Uncle. I?ve
disturbed you.? She
stepped backwards. ?I can
come back another time.?
He leaned back in his
chair, his face relaxing.
?No, no, it?s me who
should apologise,? he said.
?My work sometimes takes
me over. Come along in.
How may I help you??
She stepped forwards,
clenching her hands into
fists to give herself courage.
?May I borrow the
carriage tomorrow, please,
Uncle?? she blurted out.
?The carriage?? He raised
his eyebrows. ?What do
you need it for??
?To go home. It would
only be for a few hours,
Uncle. I?d come straight
back.? She felt her eyes
sting, and blinked fiercely.
Jago picked up his pen,
absently cleaned the nib on
his blotting pad then slowly
placed it back in its stand.
?You are not a prisoner
here, Jenna,? he said
quietly.
?I know that, Uncle, I do.
It?s just that . . .?
Her words petered out.
This was more difficult than
she thought it would be.
?I know you must miss
your family,? he continued
kindly, ?but we cannot risk
any possible
misinterpretation of the will.
Any contention could take
years to resolve. That would
have a disastrous effect
upon our fortunes.
?Our agreement was for
you to remain here at
Nankerris House for the
period of one year,? he
reminded her gently. ?I
must ask you to adhere to
that. I?m sure you can
understand??
?Yes, Uncle, of course I
do.? She turned away,
closing the door quietly
behind her.
Yes, I understand, she
thought as she made her
way to the back door. I do.
But surely I deserve some
understanding, too?
She let herself out into
the garden, and broke into
a run. In her mind she
heard Morwenna?s words.
?A lady walks, child, she
never runs.?
Well, she didn?t care
about all the rules and
regulations any more. She
wanted to go home!
Her steps only slowed
when she reached the
orchard, and she wandered
beneath the blossoming
apple trees, her heart a
heavy weight inside her.
I?ll go anyway, she
thought suddenly. I?ll only
be gone a day and a night,
no-one need know. I?ll
manage it somehow.
With a new determination
in her step, she made her
way back to the front lawn.
There, she stood looking up
at the house, taking in the
thick twist of ivy beside the
landing window above the
conservatory.
?I?m sure I can climb
down from there,? she
murmured. ?Then, when I
get to St Austell, I?m bound
to find a cart ride down
country. I can see Garren
and Mamm-wynn, and be
back by the following
evening. I?m sure I can.?
A flame of excitement
shot through her as her
idea took hold. She?d ask
Lamorna to cover for her
and ask her to tell everyone
she was ill with a headache.
She was sure her plan could
work.
She walked up and down
the orchard, her eagerness
growing as she went over
the details. When she
heard the faint ring of the
gong sounding for
luncheon, she hurried
round to the back of the
house once more, entering
through the kitchen door.
Mrs Cate was hurrying
around the kitchen
supervising the loading of
dishes on to trays. She
looked at Jenna.
?Why, child, you?re pale
as milk,? she said.
?Whatever?s the matter?
Are you ill??
Quickly realising that this
could work to her
advantage, Jenna put her
hand to her forehead.
?I?ve a terrible
headache,? she said, at the
same time realising it was
true. She rubbed her
temples. ?Could I have my
luncheon on a tray, please,
Mrs Cate? I think I?ll go to
my room and lie down for a
bit.?
As soon as the meal had
finished, Lamorna came to
see how she was. Excitedly,
Jenna explained her plan to
her.
?Wonderful! How daring
you are. But you?ll have to
be careful,? she warned.
?Uncle Arthek is coming
this evening. He is to dine
with us and stay
overnight.?
?Oh.? Jenna?s shoulders
sagged as she felt her plan
begin to evaporate.
?I know!? Lamorna
continued. ?I?ll bring up
your meals myself. No-one
will be suspicious of that,
for everyone knows we?re
good friends.
?I?ll tell anyone who asks
that you have a sick
headache and must lie
quietly in the dark. I?m sure
no-one will guess anything.?
Her eyes gleamed.
?Goodness, what a
marvellous lark. I thought
adventures like this only
happened in stories!?
* * * *
The afternoon slowly
turned to evening as Jenna
rested in her room. It
seemed to take for ever for
midnight to come. But, at
last, she heard the pat of
feet outside her room which
she knew meant the maids
were retiring for the night.
She crossed her fingers,
fervently hoping that none
of them knocked to see how
she was, but her cousin
must have done her work
well for they all kept away.
She heard Nancy?s door
click shut next to hers.
Beneath the blanket,
pulled high beneath her
chin, she was fully dressed.
She watched the moon
slowly rise above the sill of
her uncurtained window,
while the house creaked as
it settled down for the
night.
At last, when all was
quiet, she eased herself off
the bed and tugged on her
boots, fumbling in the
darkness to find the eyelet
holes.
Finally they were done.
Wrapping her cloak about
her, she eased open the
door. When she had passed
through it, she closed it
softly behind her again and
tiptoed along the corridor
and down the servants?
stairs, feeling her way along
the cool plastered wall.
Once she was on the first
floor landing, it was easy to
find her way, for light from
the full moon dropped
through the panes of the
end window.
She made her way
towards it, tying her hood
ribbons tightly beneath her
chin as she went. Her heart
beat quickly as she slipped
the catch, easing up the
sash an inch at a time so as
not to make a noise.
There came the far-off
hoot of an owl and a rush
of fresh night air, then
suddenly there was enough
space for her to squeeze
through. Before she knew it
she was out on to the roof,
pulling the window shut
behind her.
Cold pinched her cheeks
and nose as she felt for a
foothold in the ivy, and the
bruised leaves beneath her
boots emitted a sharp
earthy scent.
It was not as hard as
she?d thought it would be
to climb down, for the
bristly twining trunk
provided strong footholds
for her feet.
It was not as hard as
she?d thought to see,
either. Milky moonlight fell
on the frosted sloping roof
of the conservatory and on
to the verandah. She could
even make out the
shrubbery and the lawn
beyond.
She landed with a little
muffled thud, and
immediately turned on to
the path that led to the
back of the house. Once
she stopped to listen, but
hearing nothing more than
the bark of a fox, she
carried on.
She ran swiftly down the
path towards the copse, not
stopping again until she
reached the edge of the
trees. There, panting from
the run, she looked back at
the house.
Immediately, she wished
she hadn?t, for what she
saw set her heart
hammering hard. There was
a light flickering in the
drawing-room window. It
was only the faintest of
glows, but it seemed to her
like a candle flame. Had
somebody still been up and
about when she?d thought
they were all abed?
?Don?t be such a silly
maid,? she told herself
sternly. ?It?s nothing more
than moonlight upon the
pane. Besides, you?ve come
this far; you can hardly turn
back now.?
And with that thought,
she turned on her heel into
the darkness of the woods.
To be continued.
On
Reflection
From the manse
window
by Rev.
Ian W.F. Hamilton.
H
OW good is your
memory? Many readers,
I?m sure, would tell me
that they could recall quite
clearly things that happened
50 or more years ago as if
they happened yesterday, yet
can?t remember what actually
happened yesterday!
When I visit Glasgow, the
city of my birth, it?s not the first
occasion on which I have
forgotten, momentarily, where
I have parked my car! Was it
West George Street, or West
Regent Street . . . or was that
the last time? And yet I could
rhyme off no bother at all the
registration numbers of cars I
possessed years ago!
Memory is a funny thing, yet
it?s one of those things which
makes us human. Man has
wonderful power of mind to
remember, a gift given to him
by God.
Time, like an ever-rolling
stream, robs us of people, of
places, of personal happiness,
but with memory we can have
them for ever.
We are often told to
remember for a purpose ?
remember to pay your TV
licence; remember your
Highway Code; remember to
switch on the alarm when you
leave your home. These are all
very sensible, purposeful
reminders, and if we fail to
implement them it may cost
us.
However, surely the most
important command to
remember comes from Jesus,
spoken at the Last Supper:
?Do this in remembrance of
me.?
The memory Jesus
specifically wanted his friends
to recall ? and to recall with
thanksgiving ? was that of his
sacrificial death on the cross.
And down through the
centuries, whenever Jesus?s
friends ?do this in
remembrance of him?, they still
remember him with
thanksgiving.
Of course this is the time of
year when we especially
remember, on the 11th hour of
the 11th day of the 11th
month. At this time we
remember how evil and how
futile and how senseless war is,
how much suffering and sorrow
it causes.
But in the same way we
remember Jesus, we remember
at this time, with thanksgiving,
that today we do this in
remembrance of them.
With thanksgiving we pray for
the countless souls who gave
their all in two World Wars and
in so many wars and conflicts
since; those who sacrificed and
who continue to sacrifice, so
sadly, so bravely and so
enduringly right up to 2017.
Their lives and their
memories will live on for ever
in the hearts of so many.
?At the going down of the
sun and in the morning, we will
remember them.? With
profound thanksgiving we will
proudly and eternally
remember these comrades of
yesteryear and of today who
gave and who give their lives to
defend us.
And so today we pray that
their sacrifice may bring hope
to the world, and like the
supreme sacrifice of Christ on
the Cross, we remember now
so that their sacrifice may
ultimately be the instrument of
peace among the nations of the
world.
Remember especially with
hope in your heart for all the
days and years to come, the
One who said, ?Remember
me.? n
Next week: Rev. Ian
Petrie asks, ?What?s in
a name??
NATURE 75
Spiders
Strictly No
It takes two to tango with a
spider, as Malcolm D. Welshman
discovers . . .
iStock.
M
Y wife and I
had just settled
down to watch
?Strictly Come
Dancing? when
a giant spider shot out from
under the settee and did a
paso doble across the
carpet in front of the TV.
?Just look at that,? Maxeen
cried, pointing.
?A well-executed turn by
Debbie McGee,? I declared,
as Bruno Tonioli waved his
arms enthusiastically in the
air and the spider stopped
to wave two of his eight legs
before scuttling out of sight.
That spider was a giant
house spider ? eratigena
atrica, to give it its Latin
Outside, where
he belongs!
name. Dark orange-brown
in colour, this is the most
common critter to invade
our homes in the autumn.
And this year, as the
weather turns cooler and
wetter, we?re in for a mass
invasion. So we?d better
watch our steps. And not
just those on ?Strictly?.
?Spiders don?t specifically
want to enter your home,?
Simon Garrett, head of
learning at Bristol Zoological
Society, says. ?In fact, they?d
rather stay away as there?s
less food and it?s too dry
and clean.?
He goes on to explain that
it?s the urge to seek out a
mate that brings them in.
And suddenly it seems
they?re everywhere.
It?s because the females
rarely leave their nests that
the males have to scurry
around looking for them.
Webs are spun in corners,
between boxes in cellars,
behind cupboards, in attics
and near window openings.
We?ve a big one in the
cables behind our TV. No
doubt that?s where our
?Strictly? spider was heading
to find a mate.
After their fling, the female
will lay hundreds of eggs,
and in each egg sac there
can be up to 60
?spiderlings?.
Unfortunately, we can?t
stop them crawling into our
homes.
David Cross, head of the
Technical Training Academy
at Rentokil Pest Control,
says, ?As spiders are able to
squeeze themselves through
tiny gaps and holes, it?s
impossible to proof your
house against them
completely, but of course,
closing doors and windows
will help to keep them at
bay.?
Apart from the giant
house spiders, other likely
contenders to waltz into
you, at least that can?t hurt
you, unlike a false widow
spider ? steatoda nobilis.
These are only two
centimetres wide, dark
?Very few species of spider
will bite people?
your home are the missing
sector orb spider, the daddy
long legs, the lace web
spider and the zebra
jumping spider.
Add to that list the
smallest ? the money spider
? so called because
according to superstition, if
one got stuck in your hair it
would bring you good luck
and wealth.
Not so welcome is an
encounter with a cardinal
spider. At 14 cm across, it?s
the largest in the UK. Mind
brown with a bulbous
abdomen, but are Britain?s
most venomous spider.
Some adult female false
widows have been known
to bite humans. Symptoms
range from a numb
sensation to severe swelling
and discomfort.
?Very few species of
spider will bite people and
of those that try, only a
small number can even
break our skin,? Simon
Garrett confirms
reassuringly.
?There are no
inherently deadly species
of spider found in the UK as
their venom is designed for
killing much smaller, simpler
creatures for food, such as
insects.?
Even so, I quickly scoot
out to make sure the back
door is firmly closed and all
the windows fastened. And
once ?Strictly? has finished
I?ll do another vacuuming of
the house, with the
extension nozzle fitted to
target sheltered spots and
corners of the ceilings.
At least that will ensure no
webs are being spun and
that there are no dead flies
or other small crawling
insects around for any
spiders to feed on.
Keeping spiders in their place
We live in a sprawling
Victorian house so the
number of entry portals for
spiders is endless. And as
the house is surrounded by
woodland with piles of logs
and muck heaps, the
arachnoid fraternity
continues to thrive with
vigour, ready and waiting
to creep in as cooler days
approach.
There are plenty of tips
to help lessen the chances
of me being ravished by a
rampaging false widow.
I?ve spent a fortune on
tubes of ready-mixed filler,
squirting it into gaps round
pipework and skirting
boards to fill in the gaps
where they might sneak in.
Another suggestion to
limit spider influxes is to
reduce lighting. Insects are
drawn to light, and flies
and moths are perfect
spider fodder, so reducing
outside lighting will in
theory reduce the number
of spiders around. I did
attempt this with the light
that illuminates the yard
across to our stable block.
?What do you think
you?re doing?? Maxeen
yelled one evening earlier
this week as she was
suddenly plunged into
darkness as she crossed
the yard back to the house.
I?d switched off the lights
thinking she was already
?Spiders
don?t want
to enter your
home?
Needless to say, the
appearance of our giant
house spider that evening
had Maxeen demanding its
instant capture and
expulsion.
I used to use the standard
?glass and a stiff piece of
cardboard? technique. But
house spiders can quickstep
at a rate of knots and many
times I?ve missed in my
attempts to trap one under
a tumbler.
It was Maxeen who
provided the solution.
No, she didn?t do the
trapping herself but
purchased a more effective
device for me to do so. It?s
called a My Pink Pals Bug
Buster.
?What on earth . . .?? I
faltered when she first
flashed the long vacuum
tube at me with a flourish
worthy of Darth Vader in
?Star Wars?.
?It will suck it up,? she
explained, switching the
gadget on.
And it does work a treat.
The bug buster consists of a
hand held, battery-powered
spider and insect trap,
enabling me to vacuum up
spiders safely from the end
of the 64-cm-long tube.
Then it?s a quick release
outside without the need to
touch them.
I need to hurry. It?s nearly
time for Alexandra Burke
and Gorka to take to the
floor.
?Now, matey, let?s be
having you,? I mutter, poking
my bug buster round the
back of the TV . . . n
For more information
indoors. As a consequence,
she stepped into unseen fox
droppings, and stomped in
leaving footprints across the
floor.
Foul odour though it was,
that sort of smell wouldn?t
deter spiders. But the smell
of citrus fruits like lemon, or
eucalyptus, tea tree and
peppermint oils would. So it
might be worth rubbing
lemon peel around window
and door frames or spraying
other scents round them.
An old wives? tale says that
spiders don?t like conkers
and that placing them
around the house will keep
them at bay. I suppose it?s
worth a try, though you
might end up saying, ?What
a load of old conkers.?
Coming bang up to date
regarding deterrents, you
have ultrasonic pest
repellents. These gadgets
are plugged in and emit
ultrasonic and electromagnetic waves which
stimulate the hearing and
brain nerves of most
crawling and flying insects.
Spiders are meant to feel
terrorised in the affected
area and will flee away.
So, if the pulsating
rhythms of ?Strictly? aren?t
effective, then one of these
devices plugged in near the
TV should do the trick with
the spider rapidly foxtrotting
out of the room.
Lemon
Eucalyptus
Tea tree
Peppermint
Reducing outside
lighting will help
to deter spiders.
Bristol Zoo has been running its Living With Spiders course for more than 20 years, helping people who want to
get over a fear of spiders. For more information about the course and future dates, visit, www.bristolzoo.org.uk/
whats-on/living-with-spiders or call 0117 974 7369.
FREE
WELCOME GIFT
with every order!*
Fantastic Subscription Offers
Free
CraNBerry
& GINGer
dIFFUSer
Free
BeaNO
BeaNIe
Free
tHIStLe tOt
GLaSS
Free
BeSt FrIeNdS
JeWeLLery
Set
Free
PearL
JeWeLLery
Set
Six Months: �.99 (UK)
�.99 (Overseas)
One year: �.49 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
Six Months: �.99 (UK)
�.99 (Overseas)
One year: �.00 (UK)
�7.00 (Overseas)
One year:
�.00 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
two years: �.00 (UK)
�6.20 (Overseas)
Six Months: �.49 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
One year: �.99 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
One year:
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.00 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.00 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�25 (UK) every 3 months
�.50 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.50 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�25 (UK) every 3 months
�25 (Overseas) every 3 months
Oday
Order t
Quote promotion code JOy17 for your free gift
ONLINe: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
FREEPHONE 0800 318 846 quoting PFNVE.
FreePHONe: 0800 318 846
Free from UK landlines and mobiles only.
�.00 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
two years**:�.90 (UK)
�.10 (Overseas)
tles
at ti .
e
r
g
m
More oose fro Y17
h
JO
c
to
Code
m
o
r
P
Lines
Mon-Fri,
9am-5pm
Sat.Mon-Fri
Overseas
+44
1382 575580
(Freeopen
from8am-6pm
UK only. Lines
open
8am-6pm
and
9am-5pm
Sat.)
Overseas: +44 1382 575580
ONLINE www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk/subscriptions
*Best value direct debit quarterly rates are one year minimum term. UK bank accounts only. For any overseas enquiries please call: +44 1382 575580 or email:
shop@dcthomson.co.uk. Offer ends 31st december 2017. **direct debit and 2 year subscribers of this england will receive a Free this england 2018 Calendar.
believe it?
Would you
Got a question? Get in touch through e-mail
wouldyoubelieveit@dctmedia.co.uk or *write to
?The People?s Friend?, 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ.
I?D LIKE TO KNOW
Q
A
Western scientists ?discovered? this fifth
taste along with sweet, sour, salty and
bitter. So, it?s the taste that doesn?t quite
fit into any of these categories! The origin of the
word is Japanese and umami translates to mean
deliciousness or savoury taste. It apparently adds
a punch of flavour to dishes, so if you want to
add a spoonful of deliciousness to your cooking
you can buy umami paste from supermarkets.
The ingredients in this can include everything
from tomato paste through to black olives.
red poppies are made
every year for the
Royal British Legion?s
annual Poppy Appeal.
iStock.
65%
What is the full phrase
of the superstition that
advises never to wear red
and green?
Mrs W.B., Skegness.
of British
parents
admit that
their pre-teen children
are better and faster
at using laptops and
smartphones than
they are!
A
November 7
Q
The phrase ?red and green
should never be seen?
sometimes also has the
addition of ?unless upon an Irish
queen? or ?without a colour in
between? and is more a fashion
mantra rather than superstition.
Some people argue that the saying
is actually blue and green.
Something we didn?t
know last week...
No longer do we consult travel brochures
before booking trips away ? it appears
we?re now deciding where to go on holiday
by watching television or going to the
cinema! From Poldark?s Bodmin Moor to
the Icelandic wilderness used in ?Game Of
Thrones?, it appears we all want to explore
the silver screen?s real-life locations.
?The release of ?Victoria And Abdul?
caused a spike of 20% in searches for Isle
of Wight,? Dmitrijus Konovalovas of holiday
planning website IQPlanner revealed.
*Please do not send an SAE as we cannot give personal replies.
�6,000
45 million
A
Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin was
the first man in space when he
orbited the earth in 1961. The first
woman was also a Soviet ? Valentina
Tereshkova. She orbited the earth for
three days in June 1963. Valentina, who
turned eighty earlier this year, also had
a love of parachuting which apparently
helped her gain selection for her space
mission.
Q
16
gold medals have been
won by Britain in the
World Trampolining
Championships since
they began in 1964. Will
we add to our tally
in Bulgaria this
week?
is the starting salary
for a Formula 1
racing driver, rising to
�,580,000.
I know that Yuri Gagarin was the
first man in space, but who was
the first woman?
Mrs N.McK., Stirling.
I have been cooking for most
of my life and I?m now nearing eighty,
so why am I only just hearing about
something called umami ? and what is it?
Mrs L.C., Manchester.
TEA-BREAK TRIVIA 79
is officially
International Tongue
Twister Day ? and
that?s not easy to say!
1,864
giant pandas are
believed to be living in
the wild ? an increase
of 10% over the last
10 years.
Special
KNITTING 81
Effects
Our top has a plain front
and contrasting lace
back and comes in five
versatile sizes.
MEASUREMENTS
To fit sizes: 81/86 cm (32/34 ins), 86/91
(34/36), 91/97 (36/38), 97/102 (38/40),
102/107 (40/42).
Actual size: 88 cm (34� ins), 93 (36�),
99 (39), 104 (41), 109 (43).
Length: 60 cm (23� ins), 61 (24), 62
(24�), 64 (25�), 66 (26).
MATERIALS
4 (4, 4, 5, 5) 100-gram balls of Rico
Essentials Acrylic Antipilling DK in Light
Grey (008). One pair 3.25 mm (No. 10)
and 4 mm (No. 8) knitting needles;
stitch-holders. If you have difficulty finding
the yarn used, you can order directly from
Wool Warehouse,
website: www.woolwarehouse.co.uk,
telephone: 0800 505 3300.
TENSION
22 sts and 30 rows to 10 cm measured
over st-st using 4 mm needles.
ABBREVIATIONS
dec ? decrease; foll ? foll; inc ? increase;
K ? knit; KB ? knit into next st on row
below; P ? purl; psso ? pass slipped st over;
rem ? remain; rep ? repeat; SKPO ? slip 1,
K1, psso; st(s) ? stitches; st-st ? stockingstitch (K1 row, P1 row); T3L ? slip 2 sts on
to cable needle and hold at front, K1, then
K2 from cable needle: T3R ? slip 1 st on to
cable needle and hold at back, K2, then K1
from cable needle; TK1 ? knit into back of
next st; TP1 ? purl into back of next st;
tog ? together; yf ? yarn forward;
yon ? yarn over needle; yrn ? yarn round
needle.
Important Note
Directions are given for five sizes. Figures in
brackets refer to the four larger sizes. Figures
in square brackets [ ] refer to all sizes and
are worked the number of times stated.
When writing to us you must enclose an SAE
if you would like a reply.
intermediate
82
BACK
With 3.25 mm needles,
cast on 123 (131, 139, 145,
153) sts.
1st rib row ? ?K1, P1, rep
from ? to last st, K1.
2nd rib row ? ?P1, K1, rep
from ? to last st, P1.
Rib 7 rows in rib as set ???.
Dec row ? P2, [P2tog, P1] 4
(4, 12, 13, 13) times, [P2tog,
P2] 24 (26, 16, 16, 18) times,
[P2tog, P1] 4 (4, 12, 13,
13) times, P1 ? 91 (97, 99,
103, 109) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles:
1st row ? K19 (22, 7, 9, 12),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, T3L, K1,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times ??, rep
from ?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K19 (22, 7, 9, 12).
2nd row ? Purl.
3rd row ? K18 (21, 6, 8, 11),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K3, T3L, K1,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times ??, rep
from ?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K18 (21, 6, 8, 11).
4th row ? Purl.
5th row ? K17 (20, 5, 7, 10),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K2, T3L, K1, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, ?? K10, [yf, SKPO] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K17
(20, 5, 7, 10).
6th row ? Purl.
7th row ? K16 (19, 4, 6, 9),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K1, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K16 (19, 4, 6, 9).
8th row ? Purl.
9th row ? K15 (18, 3, 5, 8),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K3, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ??K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K15 (18, 3, 5, 8).
10th row ? Purl.
11th row ? K14 (17, 2, 4, 7),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K5, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ??K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K14 (17, 2, 4, 7).
12th row ? Purl.
13th row ? K15 (18, 3, 5, 8),
?[yf, SKPO] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, T3L, [K2tog, yf, K1]
twice, yf, SKPO, K1, yf, SKPO,
T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3 times,
??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K15
(18, 3, 5, 8).
14th row ? Purl.
15th row ? K16 (19, 4, 6, 9),
?[yf, SKPO] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, T3L, K1, K2tog, yf, yrn,
sl1, K2tog, psso, yf, yrn, SKPO,
K1, T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3 times,
??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K16
(19, 4, 6, 9).
16th row ? P43 (46, 47, 49,
52), [P1, K1] into ?yf, yrn? of
previous row, P1, [P1, K1] into
?yf, yrn? of previous row, P43
(46, 47, 49, 52).
17th row ? K17 (20, 5, 7,
10), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K2, yf, sl1, K2tog,
psso, yf, K2, T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, ??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K17
(20, 5, 7, 10).
18th row ? Purl.
19th row ? K18 (21, 6, 8,
11), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K5, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K18 (21, 6, 8, 11).
20th row ? Purl.
21st row ? K19 (22, 7, 9,
12), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K3, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K19 (22, 7, 9, 12).
22nd row ? Purl.
23rd row ? K20 (23, 8, 10,
13), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K1, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K20 (23, 8, 10, 13).
24th row ? Purl.
Cont in pattern as set until
back measures 41 (41, 41,
42, 43) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape armholes ? Work 5
(5, 5, 6, 6) rows, dec 1 st at
each end of every row ? 81
(87, 89, 91, 97) sts.
Cont straight until armholes
measure 19 (20, 21, 22,
23) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape shoulders ? Cast off
10 (12, 11, 12, 13) sts in patt
at beg of next 2 rows, then 11
(12, 12, 12, 14) sts in patt at
beg of following 2 rows ? 39
(39, 43, 43, 43) sts.
Leave these sts on a holder.
FRONT
Work as given for back
to ???.
Dec row ? P10 (10, 10, 13,
9), P2tog, [P2, P2tog] 25 (27,
29, 29, 33) times, P11 (11,
11, 14, 10) ? 97 (103, 109,
115, 119) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles, and
beg with a knit row, work in
st-st until work measures 41
(41, 41, 42, 43) cm, ending
after a purl row.
Shape armholes ? Work 5
(5, 5, 6, 6) rows, dec 1 st at
each end of every row ? 87
(93, 99, 103, 107) sts.
Cont without shaping until
armholes measure 8 (9, 10,
10, 11) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape neck ? K32 (35, 37,
39, 41), turn and leave
remaining 55 (58, 62, 64,
66) sts on a stitch-holder.
Next row ? Purl.
Work 3 rows, dec 1 st at neck
edge on every row ? 29 (32,
34, 36, 38) sts.
Work one row straight then
work 8 (8, 12, 12, 12) rows,
dec 1 st at neck edge on next
and every foll 4th row ? 27
(30, 31, 33, 35) sts.
Work 13 rows, dec 1 st at neck
edge on next and every foll
6th row ? 24 (27, 28, 30,
32) sts.
Cont straight until armhole
measures 19 (20, 21, 22,
23) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape shoulder ? Cast off
12 (13, 14, 15, 16) sts, knit to
end ? 12 (14, 14, 15, 16) sts.
Next row ? Purl. Cast off.
With right side facing, rejoin
yarn to rem 55 (58, 62, 64,
66) sts left on holder, slip 23
(23, 25, 25, 25) sts on to a
stitch-holder, knit to end ? 32
(35, 37, 39, 41) sts.
Next row ? Purl.
Complete to match other side,
reversing all shaping.
SLEEVES
With 3.25 mm needles, cast
on 67 (69, 69, 73, 73) sts and
work 9 rows in rib as for back.
Dec row ? P7 (8, 8, 6, 6),
P2tog, [P2, P2tog] 13 (13, 13,
15, 15) times, P6 (7, 7, 5, 5)
? 53 (55, 55, 57, 57) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles and
beg with a knit row, work in
st-st inc 1 st at each end of 5th
(5th, 5th, 3rd, 3rd) and every
foll 4th (4th, 4th, 2nd,
2nd) row until there are 69
(77, 77, 61, 67) sts, then inc
1 st at each end of every foll
6th (6th, 6th, 4th, 4th) row
until there are 79 (83, 83, 89,
93) sts.
Cont straight until work
measures 28 (28, 28, 28,
29) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape top ? Work 5 (5, 5, 6,
6) rows, dec 1 st at each end
of every row ? 69 (73, 73, 77,
81) sts.
Work 1 (1, 1, 0, 0) rows more.
Cast off 5 (4, 3, 3, 3) sts at
beg of next 12 (16, 8, 20,
24) rows ? 9 (9, 49, 17,
9) sts.
3rd and 4th sizes only
? Cast off 4 sts at beg of next
?, (?, 10, 2, ?) rows ? 9 sts.
All sizes ? Cast off.
TO COMPLETE
Neckband ? Join right
shoulder seam. With 3.25 mm
needles and right side facing,
pick up and knit 32 (32, 32,
34, 34) sts evenly along left
neck, work across 23 (23, 25,
25, 25) sts left on holder at
front as folls: K4 (4, 5, 5, 5),
inc in next st, [K4, inc in next
st] 3 times, K3 (3, 4, 4, 4),
pick up and knit 32 (32, 32,
34, 34) sts along right neck
and work across 39 (39, 43,
43, 43) sts left on holder at
back as folls: K4 (4, 6, 6, 6),
inc in next st, [K4, inc in next
st] 6 times, K4 (4, 6, 6, 6) ?
137 (137, 143, 147, 147) sts.
Work 6 rows in rib as for front,
beg with a 2nd row. Cast off.
To Make Up ? Join left
shoulder and neckband seam.
Join side and sleeve seams. n
Next week: a pretty
cardigan to knit
FOOD
85
What?s In Season
Parsnips
Frost turns the starch in some plants into sugar. This
helps protect them from freezing. It also makes them
taste even more delicious! Brussels sprouts, kale,
celeriac and swede all benefit, but the sweetest of all
are parsnips. Parsnips contain fibre, vitamin C,
potassium and folate. The really big roots can be
woody, so look for medium sized for the best texture.
They?re delicious roasted, mashed, made into crisps,
or grated raw into salad, and even used in cake recipes.
Butter
Me Up
Fancy a bit of better butter?
The Kilner butter churner is
ideal for producing your own
home-made butter. Place
whipping cream into the
churner, turn the handle for 10
minutes or so and enjoy! RRP
�, visit www.kilnerjar.co.uk
or call 0151 486 1888
for stockists.
iStock.
enjoy
CookEAT
Coming to a kitchen near you...
Must Read
November 14 is World
Diabetes Day and chef Phil
Vickery?s ?Ultimate Diabetes
Cookbook? will be ideal for the
4.5 million people in the UK
diagnosed with this condition.
Conforming to Diabetes UK
guidelines, the book has more
than 100 easy-to-cook recipes
that the whole family can
enjoy. Out November 9, priced
�.99, from bookstores.
O
NCE Bonfire Night is over,
it feels like winter is truly on
the way. The darker, colder
days of November are a great time
for comforting food like soups and
casseroles. If you have less time to
spend in the kitchen, a stir fry is a
brilliant way to pack lots of colourful
vegetables into a meal ? adding
noodles will keep that essential
comfort factor. Seasonal vegetables
for your shopping list this month
include butternut squash, cabbage,
carrots, cauliflower, kale, parsnips,
pumpkin, swede and turnips.
Good Eggs
After a year-long safety study,
the Food Standards Agency
(FSA) has changed its advice on
eggs, confirming that British Lion
eggs are safe to be eaten runny,
and even raw, by mums-to-be,
infants, children and elderly
people. Dippy eggs are
back on the menu!
3 great vegan ingredient swaps
Egg-free
eggs!
Vegan easy egg,
�89, Ocado
Dairy-free
and no
refined
sugar
Ombar vegan chocolate,
�99, Whole Foods
Market, Planet Organic and
independent health stores.
Vegan,
organic
and gluten
free
Lentil penne, �00,
Asda
SHORT STORY BY REBECCA MANSELL 87
A Pair
Of Brown
Eyes
Bonnie was my granddaughter?s
best friend, but I liked to think we
had a connection, too . . .
Illustration by Sarah Holliday.
G
RAN, I?ve run
away.?
Those were the
words that
greeted me when I
answered my front door.
I stood there for a
moment, taking in my
granddaughter?s dishevelled
appearance. Her hair was
unkempt, there was a dirty
mark on her nose and her
blouse had lost a button.
As I looked down, I saw
her jeans were tattered and
frayed, then remembered it
was how young people
wore them now.
And she had grown a tail.
I blinked. Was I seeing
things?
Suddenly the tail moved
to reveal a golden body,
and a pair of earnest brown
eyes gazed up at me.
?Julie,? I said, frowning.
?What do you mean??
I stood back to allow her
to slip past me into the
house, followed by the dog,
who glanced at me with a
meaningful look and
scampered after her.
?Julie,? I called after her.
?Does your mother know??
?Do you have any buns?
I?m starving. It always
smells so delicious here.?
I sighed, letting the door
swing shut and steeling
myself as I entered the
kitchen.
I loved my granddaughter
to bits but I wasn?t
equipped to deal with
teenage angst. Julie?s
mother Fiona had never
given me any trouble, apart
from the time I?d caught
her trying to puff on a
cigarette on the way home
from school. Peer pressure,
she?d told me, and never
touched one again. As far
as I knew.
The dog had made herself
at home, stretched out on
the floor, panting.
?What have you both
been doing? You?re filthy.?
I opened a cupboard
door and pulled out a large
tin with the word Cakes
emblazoned upon it in
swirly golden script. My
daughter had written on it
when she was young; she
loved my baking.
?You?re a star, Gran,?
Julie said, her eyes lighting
up.
?So what?s happened?
You haven?t been in the
woods again, have you??
Julie always walked to the
park near her home when
she was upset and needed
to think. She went missing
once when she was just six
years old.
Fiona and I had been in
the garden and she?d
opened the catch on the
gate without us seeing and
just disappeared. We
searched everywhere for
her, growing more frantic
with every passing second.
Eventually we found her
sitting underneath a huge
sycamore tree, examining
the leaves. She had no idea
how worried we had been.
After that my daughter
said that Julie was like a
forest fairy. Her favourite
colour was green and she
had quite a collection of
books on woodland wildlife
and birds.
She even had her
sixteenth birthday party in
the woods, with lanterns for
light and tree stumps for
seats.
?I had a huge argument
with Mum. She doesn?t
understand me, Gran.
Bonnie and I went to the
woods and played a game
of sticks.?
I looked at the dog and
she gazed back at me.
?I think you?ve exhausted
her,? I said as I got out a
couple of coffee mugs.
?Oh, she?s fine.? Julie
bent down and ruffled the
dog?s fur. ?I couldn?t leave
her behind, Gran. She?s my
best friend.?
That was one of the
problems really. Julie didn?t
seem to have any real
friends. Even at sixth form
college, she was never close
to anyone, preferring her
own company.
Her mother had struggled
to find people to come to
her woodland birthday
party; Julie had hardly even
spoken to many of them.
They?d just liked the idea of
the alternative venue.
Last month, Julie and
Fiona had accepted Bonnie
into their home. Fiona knew
the local vet who was
looking for a home for the
two-year-old Labrador.
Her previous owner had
been an elderly lady who
had moved into a flat
where pets weren?t allowed.
Bonnie had been very sad
when they collected her, but
now she was doing well,
spending all her time with
Julie. Fiona thought it
would do Julie good to
have her companionship.
I could understand that.
Sometimes I felt lonely
myself.
?You argued with your
mum?? I said, returning to
the matter in hand.
?She doesn?t listen to
me.? Julie slipped on to a
stool. ?But you do.?
I didn?t know which
beseeching expression to
look at, my granddaughter?s
or the dog?s.
We were interrupted
by the phone ringing.
Julie and I looked at
88
each other.
?That?ll be Mum.?
I picked up the phone.
?Yes, she can stay,? I
said to my daughter, who
sounded weary. ?Until you
sort it out.?
Julie spoke to her mother
briefly to say that she was
sorry for getting angry and
worrying her.
While she chatted I filled
the kettle, and when I
turned round the dog was
watching me, her head on
one side, her eyes shiny.
?She likes you, Gran.?
?Hmm,? I said. ?Well, I?ve
nothing for her. You?ll have
to get her some dog food.?
Julie moved from her seat
and put her arms round me.
?Thanks for letting us
stay. I?ll pop out and get
some stuff from home and
Bonnie?s food.?
?Aren?t you taking her
with you?? I asked as Julie
grabbed the door keys.
?She?s tired,? Julie said.
?She?ll be fine with you.?
She was gone before I
could say anything else.
I often visited my
daughter through the week,
so Bonnie and I had already
spent time together since
she?d become part of the
family, and she was lovely.
She must have been a
marvellous companion for
her last owner, and I
wondered how she was
getting on without her.
A whine distracted me.
The dog was gazing at me
again, but this time she was
panting and wagging her
tail.
I filled a bowl with water
at the sink and put it down.
Bonnie gratefully lapped at
it then sat down and
barked at me.
?Why are you barking?? I
asked, alarmed.
She looked at me and
then at the door leading to
the garden.
?You want to go out??
Bonnie?s body brushed
my legs as she hurried
outside and I swooped to
pat her. Her fur was so soft.
I watched as she sniffed
around the garden,
exploring my borders and
eyeing a slumbering cat on
the gate.
She obediently plodded
back into the kitchen, sat
down and raised her paw to
me.
My heart softened as I
bent down to cuddle her.
She seemed surprised at
first, then leaned into me
affectionately.
I was just stroking her
head when Julie returned,
weighed down with her
belongings and dog food.
?Don?t you and Bonnie
get on well?? she said with
delight.
?Yes,? I replied, smiling.
?She?s lovely.?
?She?s the best. I don?t
suppose you could dog sit,
could you, Granny??
Julie only ever called me
that when she was trying to
get her own way.
?Now, look here,? I said,
trying to be firm. ?It?s one
thing you going out and
leaving me with her for half
an hour, but all evening?
You?re taking advantage of
my good nature.?
Julie laughed.
?And you have such a
lovely nature, Gran. That?s
why Bonnie likes you. She
doesn?t take to everyone,
you know. She senses good
and bad. She?s like a
psychic dog.?
?Is she now?? I said,
trying not to smile. ?Where
are you off to??
Julie sighed.
?The row I had with Mum
was about my future. She
says I have to think about
what I want to do. I said I
want to volunteer for the
vets as they?re looking for
help, but she says I have to
think about my education.?
I nodded.
?That does make sense.?
?I know. But I want to
make a difference to the
lives of animals, Gran.?
?I?m sure you will.?
I took the bag of treats
Julie had in her arms and
offered one to Bonnie.
?I?ve been trying to teach
her to give a paw,? Julie
said, gazing at Bonnie with
affection. ?But she just
jumps up at me.?
?It takes some time,? I
said as Bonnie gently took
the treat from me. ?A bit of
patience.?
?She?s so calm with you,
Gran.? Julie smiled. ?I?m
impressed.?
Bonnie looked at me
knowingly.
?I?m just meeting a girl I
know who?s at university,?
Julie said, pulling a
cardigan from a bag. ?I
won?t be long.?
Again, she was gone,
leaving her belongings on
the floor and a waft of her
perfume behind her.
?Typical,? I told Bonnie,
who had made herself at
home on the rug. ?It?s all
right for some.? I lifted the
bag. ?But some of us have
things to do.?
It was when I was coming
down the stairs that I
stumbled. Luckily I was on
the bottom step, but I cried
out in pain and leaned
against the banister, trying
to catch my breath.
Bonnie, alerted from her
slumber, scampered up to
me, then looked at me, her
brown eyes full of concern.
?I?ll be OK,? I said, trying
to reassure both her and
myself, but I could see my
ankle was already swollen.
Bonnie whined and I felt
like doing the same.
I hobbled to a chair and
sat down. The dog put her
paw on my lap and I patted
her reassuringly.
?I?ll be OK,? I whispered
to her and closed my eyes.
?Julie won?t be long.?
The pain from my ankle
seemed to be rising up
within me, then everything
went dark.
* * * *
When I opened my eyes, I
found myself looking into
an unfamiliar face.
?Who are you?? I gasped.
?How did you get in??
?Don?t worry.? The
stranger smiled. ?I?m from
the ambulance service. I?ll
just check you over before
we take you to hospital for
an X-ray on that ankle.?
?Gran!? Julie crouched
beside me, looking worried.
?I?m sorry. It?s all my fault.
If it wasn?t for Bonnie . . .?
?Oh, don?t be silly,? I
said, trying to smile. ?It was
just a stupid accident.?
Then I realised what she?d
said and frowned.
?What do you mean, if it
wasn?t for Bonnie??
I felt a wet nose nuzzling
my hand and looked into
the now familiar brown eyes.
?I must have left the front
door open,? Julie admitted.
?Bonnie came to look for
me in the woods. It was
lucky she found me ? I?d
only just got there after
meeting that girl.
?You know me, I went
there to think about what
she told me. Then Bonnie
appeared and started
barking, and I knew there
was something wrong.?
?You have a clever dog,?
the paramedic said. ?Man?s
best friend, they say.?
?Or woman?s.? I smiled,
patting Bonnie and laughing
when she put her paw on
my lap.
?Gran!? Julie said with
astonishment. ?She?s never
done that before.?
?Oh, hasn?t she?? I said,
feigning surprise. ?Perhaps
you were right about her
being psychic. She came to
get you when she knew I
was hurt.?
?I know. She?s amazing.
Actually, there is something
I need to ask you, Granny.?
?Make it quick,? the
paramedic said. ?We need
to take your granny to
hospital.?
?Gran,? I corrected him.
?My granddaughter only
ever calls me Granny when
she wants something.?
Julie flushed then spoke
quickly, as if she wanted to
hurry the words out before
she lost the nerve.
?Gran, would you be able
to look after Bonnie on a
permanent basis? I think I
might be going to university
to do a degree in animal
welfare and behaviour. And
Mum works full time, so she
can?t have her.?
Julie looked at me
hopefully.
?It?s obvious you and
Bonnie have a connection.
And I?ll see you all in the
holidays.?
?Well, my ankle may take
a while to heal, but Jim
next door has dogs. I?m
sure he?d love to take her
out for walks until I?m fit
again.?
Bonnie put both paws on
my lap and gazed at me
with her beautiful brown
eyes. How could I resist?
?I?d love to have her.?
?That?s sorted then,? the
paramedic said. ?Let?s get
you to hospital. Do you
need your granddaughter
to lock up??
?No,? I said, looking at
Bonnie, who peered back at
me knowingly. ?The door
always swings back and
locks itself.? n
PUZZLES 91
Kriss Kross
How long will it take you to correctly fit the
words relating to apples into the grid?
4 letters
7 letters
CORE
CRUMBLE
TREE
CRUNCHY
ORCHARD
PUREE
CALVADOS
SAUCE
PEARMAIN
6 letters
9 letters
EATING
DELICIOUS
RUSSET
DISCOVERY
T
R
E
E
Solutions
Brick Trick
Enter the answers to the clues in the bricks in the wall.
Every word is an anagram of its neighbours, plus or
minus a letter.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
1
2
3
4
5
6
Telepathic power (inits)(3)
Pastry dishes (4)
Acted as a secret agent (5)
Allay or scatter (6)
Pampered to excess (7)
Place to relax after
swimming (8)
7 Curly?haired dogs (7)
8 ___ off, left
unobtrusively (6)
9 Northern and southern
extremities of the globe (5)
10 Only (4)
11 Sign of the zodiac (3)
Kriss Kross
Brick Trick
E S P
P I E S
S P I E D
D I S P E L
S PO I L E D
POO L S I D E
POOD L E S
S L OP E D
PO L E S
SO L E
L EO
8 letters
C
R Y
R
U
NG
M
B
N
L
COR E
R
AUC E
N
T
RCHARD
H
E
Y
E
CIDER
D
D I S COV E
L
E A T I
C
C
P E ARMA I
L
O
C
V
U
I
A
P
S
D
D
U
E
O R O
RU S S E T
E
5 letters
All puzzles � Puzzler Media Ltd ?
www.puzzler.com
SOAP BY GLENDA YOUNG 93
OUR
WEEKLY
SOAP
It?s up to
George to save
the day!
iStock.
T
HE coach has
broken down??
George cried, trying
not to panic. ?What
do you mean??
Bill, the coach driver, just
shrugged.
?The engine?s not been
right for a while. I thought
it was making a strange
noise when I pulled out of
the garage this morning.?
George felt the stirring of
anxiety. He glanced across
the caf� to the riverside
windows, where more than
30 colleagues from his
shipyard days were
expecting a day out.
?Could you get another
coach for us?? George said.
?Your company must have
more than one coach.?
?Oh, we do. We?ve got a
whole fleet of coaches . . .?
Bill began and George felt
his shoulders relax ?. . . but
they?re booked out today.?
?What? All of them??
George said, trying to make
himself sound more calm
than he felt.
?It?s a big day at the
racing today,? Bill replied.
?We?ve had the whole fleet
booked out for months. My
boss only said yes to taking
your lads out today as a
favour to you, George.? Bill
shook his head again.
?Sorry.?
?What am I going to do??
George cried, pointing
towards the men who were
Riverside
settling into their seats for
breakfast.
Bill took his phone out of
his pocket.
?I can give you a couple of
numbers to ring, but you?ll
be lucky ? I don?t hold out
too much hope at such late
notice.?
?Thanks, Bill,? George
said. ?I?ll take the numbers
and make a few calls before
I say anything to the lads.?
?Everything all right,
Dad?? Susan asked as she
walked past him.
?I?ll tell you in five
minutes,? he replied.
With a glance behind him
to make sure no-one was
watching, George slipped
out of the front doors of the
Old Engine Room.
He disappeared around
the corner and dialled the
first number that Bill had
given him.
He dialled a second
number, and a third, but
the replies were all the
same. None of them had
any coaches available for
hire.
With a heavy heart,
George walked back into
the deli, dreading the
announcement he was
going to make. But before
he said a word to the men,
he decided to make one
final call.
* * * *
?Right, lads!? George said
to the men. ?I know we?ve
all been looking forward to
our day out today ??
A cheer went up around
the caf� and Mike came out
of the kitchen when he
heard the friendly roar.
He saw George standing
at the head of the tables
where the men were seated
and the scene made him
smile. It was just like the
old George when he used to
stand up in the shipyard
canteen addressing the
workers all those years ago.
?I?ve got some bad news,?
George continued.
?What?s to do?? one of
the men shouted.
?Our coach has broken
down,? George said, coming
straight out with it. ?I?ve
rung around some other
companies, but they
haven?t any coaches
available at such short
notice.
?And because we?ve got
no coach, our day out won?t
be going as we planned,? he
continued.
A groan filled the air and
George held up both hands.
?But all is not lost,? he
said. ?We?ve booked a boys?
jolly and we?re going to
have a boys? jolly!?
?Where to, George??
someone shouted.
?Remember Big Jim, the
pub landlord?? George
asked. ?Well, he?s still
running the Ship. I?ve just
called him and he?s very
kindly offered us VIP access
to the pub?s luxury function
room free of charge today.
?There?s a big screen TV
so we can watch the racing,
he?s putting lunch on for us,
and his nephew Sam has
offered to place our bets at
the bookies.?
Another cheer went up
and a relieved George
turned to face Susan.
?Since when has the Ship
had a function room??
Susan smiled. ?VIP access??
?I had to dress it up a bit,?
George whispered. ?I
couldn?t just say we?re
going to be in the back
room of a pub, could I??
?Go and sit down, Dad,
and I?ll bring your breakfast
over,? Susan said.
?Thanks, love,? he replied.
George took his seat, but
it wasn?t Susan who served
him his plate of sausages,
egg, hash browns, black
pudding, bacon, toast and
beans. It was Mike.
He slid into the seat next
to George with his own
breakfast plate.
?Just like the old days in
the shipyard canteen, eh??
Mike smiled.
George laughed.
?Since when did you ever
come into our canteen? You
were management. I
thought you lot had your
own private dining-room.?
?I came in now and then,?
Mike said. ?Usually to hear
one of your rousing
speeches to the lads when
you were trying to get them
out on strike or get them
back to work.?
?Are you coming to the
Ship with us today, Mike??
George asked his old boss.
?I wouldn?t miss it for the
world,? Mike replied.
* * * *
The deli was quiet for the
first time that morning after
the men left. Susan was
brewing coffee when Jenny
walked in.
?Hi!? Susan greeted her
friend. ?How?s the jobhunting going??
?Good,? Jenny replied.
?I?ve got an idea for a new
business I?d like to talk to
you about.?
More next week.
Casting The Spell
All winter long, she sits and knits,
The kitten is curled, the fire spits.
Does first a purl and then a knit,
All evening long, she never quits.
The wool unfurls in starts and fits,
The fire swirls, the kitten licks.
The needles twirl and click their tips,
All evening long, she sits and knits.
Her knitting off the needle slips,
She gives a tug, the loops unstitch,
The purls unpurl, the knits unknit,
So row by row, the piece submits.
Ms C.D., Norfolk.
No
Fishing
I took this
picture off the
Isle of Wight as I
thought it would
give readers a
chuckle.
Somehow, I
don?t think the
gull cares much
about the rules!
Ms F.R.,
Dorset.
Between
Friends
Grass Roots
I felt compelled to write
in response to your article
?The Fair City Of Perth?.
As a native of Forfar, in
Angus, having been away
from the area for more
years than I care to
remember, I found the
descriptive detail and
photographs of this article
to be inspiring. It
transported me back in
time to fond memories of
walking along the banks of
the Tay.
The piece contained
both old and new
information and, having
been away from Scotland
for a long time, it brought
the realisation that a visit
home is long overdue.
For anyone reading of
the delights of Perth for
the first time it can only
inspire them to visit and
experience the wonderful
scenery and way of life for
themselves.
Well done for making an
exile feel the need to
return to his roots.
Mr M.F., Wiltshire.
Write to us at Between Friends, ?The People?s Friend?,
2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ, or e-mail us at
betweenfriends@dctmedia.co.uk.
Star Letter
Hurtling over
Snowdonia?s dramatic
landscape, the zip wire
reaches speeds of up to
100 mph. It runs for a mile,
500 feet above the
mountain lake and slate
quarry.
It?s hard to believe my
daughter, Anne Owen, at
the age of sixty-seven, took
this ?flight? and loved it.
I?m so proud of her and it
just goes to show you?re
never too old to try new
things, though I myself
would choose a different
challenge!
Mrs C.L., Dunfermline.
Our Star Letter will receive a Dean?s all-butter shortbread tin worth
�.69 RRP. Consume as part of a balanced diet.
All other printed UK letters will win one of our famous tea caddies
and a pack of loose tea. Our friends from overseas will receive an
alternative gift of a pen.
Delightful
Duo
These two little boys are
my great-grandchildren
Charlie (on the left) and
Jack.
They are the best of
friends and go to a toddler
group on a Thursday. It
works a treat as they always
need a long sleep
afterwards!
Mrs B.R., Peterhead.
YOUR LETTERS 95
The Perfect Gift
More than a decade ago, I spent 10 weeks of my
long service leave visiting my sister in Rochester,
joining a coach tour of Britain, and taking a self-drive
tour of Scotland, which I loved. I spent every spare
moment enjoying walks, photographing scenery and
soaking up history.
Later that year, I took a coach tour of New Zealand
where I met a fellow traveller, Marian from Andover,
with whom I have corresponded ever since. We now
have a great friendship. She relates stories of her
family and her travels, and I tell her all about life on a
dairy farm in Australia.
Here?s a photo of Marian when we were in
Kaikoura, New Zealand.
Marian very kindly gave me a subscription to ?The
People?s Friend?, which I have enjoyed immensely
and look forward to each week. The articles stir up
such wonderful memories of the special places and
friendships formed while I was in Scotland.
Mrs M.C., Australia.
Beautiful
Berwick
What a pleasure it was to see
Berwick on the cover recently.
I have so many memories of
family holidays spent in this
delightful town that were
rekindled ? from the thrill of
the London train crossing the
Royal Border Bridge and pulling
into the station on the ancient
castle site, to walks around the
walls viewing Berwick from yet
another aspect.
Due to my husband?s health
we can no longer travel, so
these armchair ?holidays? are
special.
Mrs M.A., London.
Feline Friends
Meet the three musketeers! Sooty, in the middle, is now
sixteen years old, with Tom and Jerry, both aged just four.
They are all RSPCA rescue cats and as you can see by the
photograph they get along just fine.
Miss L.W., Bristol.
Lovely Setting
I?ve recently returned from a lovely week at Coastal Kippford
holiday park in Dumfries and Galloway and have to say what a
lovely place it is to visit. We visited many interesting places during
our stay and, as you?ll see by the photo, walked the Jubilee
coastal path when the weather was fair.
It is such a beautiful area that we have vowed to return.
Mrs S.O., Scunthorpe.
Puzzle
Solutions
from page 25
Missing Link
The words in order
are Shot, Gone,
Hand, Disc, Club,
Wood, Leaf, Dust,
Hole, Hard.
The phrase is
TONIC WATER.
Crossword
O
A
R
S
M
A
N
T
A
C
O
CA S CAD E
I
O R
B S E NC E
L
S
A
H E E T
R E
R
Y
F L OA T
P
O
I
B
S T AN Z A
T
E M
H E AD
BA
R
O
N Y X
NO T
T S A
W
HA L
G
I GN
E
RRO
R
I
L
E
S
U
S
T
A
A
T
I
H
NOV E L
A
I
E
B Y S I T
L
T
E
E P AD
Pieceword
D I S P ARA
I
U
C
R
GE N E R I C
G B O
E X EMP T
R
L
OR A
U T I L I T
P
I
E
AB Y S S
E
C
CH
L A V A
U
T
BARG
GE
C
H
CO
I
T I
Y
S T
C
A P
P
E P
L
OO L
O
A S T
E
ON
R
I
E EM
G B
A T I
N
B
O L E
Sudoku
1
8
3
9
2
6
4
5
7
7
9
2
5
3
4
6
8
1
4
6
5
7
1
8
9
2
3
6
5
4
8
7
9
3
1
2
8
3
9
2
5
1
7
6
4
2
1
7
4
6
3
5
9
8
3
4
1
6
9
2
8
7
5
5
2
6
3
8
7
1
4
9
9
7
8
1
4
5
2
3
6
Terms and conditions.
We?re sorry, but we can?t reply to letters or return photographs and poems unless you enclose a stamped addressed envelope. All contributions must be your own original work
and must not have been sent elsewhere for publication. The Editor reserves the right to modify any contribution. By making a contribution you are agreeing that we and our group
companies and affiliates may, but are under no obligation to, use the contribution in any way and in any media (whether now known or created in future) anywhere in the world. If
you submit a contribution featuring a third party you must ensure that you have their permission for us to publish their image or personal details. If you are sending in a digital image,
please make sure that it is high resolution. Always write your name and address on the reverse of any photographs; printed digital images must be on photo-quality paper and we
cannot use photocopies. Please note, for all advertising queries, call 0207 400 1054. For editorial queries, call 01382 223131.
Published in Great Britain by DC Thomson & Co. Ltd., Dundee, Glasgow and London. Distributed in the UK and Eire by MarketForce UK Ltd, 5 Churchill Place, Canary Wharf, London
E14 5HU. Phone: +44 (0) 20 378 79001. Email: salesinnovation@marketforce.co.uk. Website: www.marketforce.co.uk. EXPORT DISTRIBUTION (excluding AU and NZ) Seymour
Distribution Ltd, 2 East Poultry Avenue, London EC1A 9PT. Tel: +44(0)20 7429 4000. Fax: +44(0)20 7429 4001. Email: info@seymour.co.uk. Website: www.seymour.co.uk.
� DC Thomson & Co. Ltd., 2017. Editorial communications to ?The People?s Friend?, 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ. While every reasonable care will be taken, neither
D.C. Thomson & Co., Ltd., nor its agents will accept liability for loss or damage to any materials submitted to this publication.
We are committed to journalism of the highest standards and abide by the Editors? Code of Practice which is enforced by the
Independent Press Standards Organisation (IPSO). If you have a complaint, you can e-mail us at Readerseditor@dctmedia.co.uk or
write to the Readers Editor at The People?s Friend, DC Thomson & Co. Ltd., 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ.
come to him!
He stopped. She looked
so grand in her fine dress
and soft leather slippers.
He glanced down at his
dusty boots and working
garb, and stepped back
into the shadowy interior of
the linhay.
Jago said something to
her and she laughed,
setting her shining fair
ringlets bouncing against
her cheek. Garren?s heart
sank as a gap suddenly
yawned between them.
The girl he loved had
become a lady, whilst he
was still the same as ever.
He shrank still further
into the shadows.
?I?ve lost her,? he
whispered.
* * * *
Ahyoka was crooning a
lament as she knelt beside
the newly dug mound of
earth on the hillside above
the cabin.
Hat in hand, Thomas
listened to the eerie sounds
for a while before reaching
out and touching her softly
on the shoulder.
She turned a tearstreaked face towards him.
?Grandfather didn?t have
a priest to perform the
ceremony,? she told him.
?Everyone from the village
has gone. I am the only one
left to mourn.?
?These are difficult times,
Ahyoka,? he said gently.
?Kanuna would understand.
At least he?s been laid to
rest in the land where he
belongs.?
She nodded as she stood
up beside him.
Together they looked at
the view before them, the
dull shine of the river
below, the pine-clad
mountain slopes beyond
and the vast cotton fields
at the end of the valley.
?It is a beautiful place,?
he said, hoping to comfort
her.
He took her arm as they
turned away, in an attempt
to hurry her. The week?s
grace the soldier had given
Ahyoka was up that day,
and the need to leave had
become urgent.
As they turned to retrace
their steps down to the
cabin, Thomas?s worst fears
were realised. He caught a
glimpse of blue uniforms
escorting a straggling line of
Cherokees in the valley
below.
Quickly he drew Ahyoka
behind a rock and
motioned her to be quiet.
His rage against the
authorities grew on a daily
basis as he saw how the
Native Americans were
being made to leave their
own lands.
He had to stop her from
the same fate. He was sure
she wouldn?t survive being
put in a stockade and
forced on such a long
journey in the middle of
winter. Her foot would not
hold up. But how could he
help her?
The answer when it came
was so obvious and so
simple he was amazed that
he hadn?t he thought of it
before.
He said nothing until they
were back at the cabin. He
waited in the cold musty
room as with quiet dignity
she gathered her things
together.
?What is it, Thomas??
72
she said, looking up to
catch his glance. Her
breath was a faint mist in
the cold air. ?I must give
myself up. If I do not, the
soldiers will come and make
me. They have guns,? she
added. ?I have no choice.?
?Not necessarily.?
She looked at him.
?I do not understand.?
?Listen, Ahyoka. If you
become my wife you would
not have to go.?
As he spoke, Thomas
realised how much he
wanted this, how much he
loved her.
Her lips trembled.
?I cannot,? she said.
He stepped closer and
looked into her eyes.
?Why? The law will treat
you differently if you are
my wife.?
She did not reply.
?You cannot go on this
journey,? he insisted. ?Your
foot will not bear it.?
?I will speak what is in my
heart,? she said simply. ?I
have much love for you,
Thomas. It began the day
at the river, the time I first
look up and see you.?
A flood of relief filled him.
?Then . . .?
She shook her head.
?No. I will not let you do
this for my sake. It will
bring only trouble to you.?
?You don?t understand,?
he whispered. ?I have much
love for you, too.? He
smiled. ?I hadn?t realised it.
Even if the situation for
your people was not so
desperate, in time I would
have asked you.?
He dropped to one knee
as he took her hand in his.
?Will you be my wife,
Ahyoka??
She hesitated for a
moment, then she smiled.
?If it is true that you love
me, then, yes, Thomas.?
?Yes??
?Yes,? she whispered
again as he stood up and
took her in his arms.
* * * *
Jenna looked up from the
slate she was practising her
letters upon, rubbed out
what she had written and
began again. She was using
her new skills in the form of
a letter home.
Dear Garren, she wrote,
the lead screeching against
the slate as she
painstakingly formed the
words.
I miss you and Mammwynn more than I can say.
I didn?t even have time to
say goodbye.
She ran out of space and
sat looking down at her
words. If she kept on
improving then, one day,
she might even write a real
letter, with paper and ink
from her uncle?s desk, and
send it with the mail coach
to Bidreath.
She let out a sigh. What
would be the point? Garren
couldn?t read and besides,
even if he could, it wouldn?t
do any good. She?d
promised to stay at
Nankerris House for a year,
and a whole year it had to
be.
She looked through the
window at the yellow
daffodils nodding at the
edge of the shrubbery. It
seemed such a long time
until Michaelmas. How was
she to endure another six
months?
With another sigh, she
reached for a book that
Jago had let her borrow
from the library. It was all
about sea birds and
cliff-top flowers, the shore
and the life of fish that
lived in their seas. It gave
her comfort to look at the
beautiful illustrations for it
reminded her of home.
As she turned the pages
her longing grew, and
gradually an idea began to
form in her mind. By the
time the gong sounded for
supper she had a plan.
The following morning she
knocked on the door of the
library. She knew her uncle
would be there for he never
travelled to the mine until
after luncheon on the
Sabbath.
?Come!? His deep voice
came faintly through the
thick wood.
She pushed open the
door and stepped inside.
Jago looked up from the
stack of papers on his desk.
?Ah, Jenna. I?m rather
busy. Can it wait??
?I?m sorry, Uncle. I?ve
disturbed you.? She
stepped backwards. ?I can
come back another time.?
He leaned back in his
chair, his face relaxing.
?No, no, it?s me who
should apologise,? he said.
?My work sometimes takes
me over. Come along in.
How may I help you??
She stepped forwards,
clenching her hands into
fists to give herself courage.
?May I borrow the
carriage tomorrow, please,
Uncle?? she blurted out.
?The carriage?? He raised
his eyebrows. ?What do
you need it for??
?To go home. It would
only be for a few hours,
Uncle. I?d come straight
back.? She felt her eyes
sting, and blinked fiercely.
Jago picked up his pen,
absently cleaned the nib on
his blotting pad then slowly
placed it back in its stand.
?You are not a prisoner
here, Jenna,? he said
quietly.
?I know that, Uncle, I do.
It?s just that . . .?
Her words petered out.
This was more difficult than
she thought it would be.
?I know you must miss
your family,? he continued
kindly, ?but we cannot risk
any possible
misinterpretation of the will.
Any contention could take
years to resolve. That would
have a disastrous effect
upon our fortunes.
?Our agreement was for
you to remain here at
Nankerris House for the
period of one year,? he
reminded her gently. ?I
must ask you to adhere to
that. I?m sure you can
understand??
?Yes, Uncle, of course I
do.? She turned away,
closing the door quietly
behind her.
Yes, I understand, she
thought as she made her
way to the back door. I do.
But surely I deserve some
understanding, too?
She let herself out into
the garden, and broke into
a run. In her mind she
heard Morwenna?s words.
?A lady walks, child, she
never runs.?
Well, she didn?t care
about all the rules and
regulations any more. She
wanted to go home!
Her steps only slowed
when she reached the
orchard, and she wandered
beneath the blossoming
apple trees, her heart a
heavy weight inside her.
I?ll go anyway, she
thought suddenly. I?ll only
be gone a day and a night,
no-one need know. I?ll
manage it somehow.
With a new determination
in her step, she made her
way back to the front lawn.
There, she stood looking up
at the house, taking in the
thick twist of ivy beside the
landing window above the
conservatory.
?I?m sure I can climb
down from there,? she
murmured. ?Then, when I
get to St Austell, I?m bound
to find a cart ride down
country. I can see Garren
and Mamm-wynn, and be
back by the following
evening. I?m sure I can.?
A flame of excitement
shot through her as her
idea took hold. She?d ask
Lamorna to cover for her
and ask her to tell everyone
she was ill with a headache.
She was sure her plan could
work.
She walked up and down
the orchard, her eagerness
growing as she went over
the details. When she
heard the faint ring of the
gong sounding for
luncheon, she hurried
round to the back of the
house once more, entering
through the kitchen door.
Mrs Cate was hurrying
around the kitchen
supervising the loading of
dishes on to trays. She
looked at Jenna.
?Why, child, you?re pale
as milk,? she said.
?Whatever?s the matter?
Are you ill??
Quickly realising that this
could work to her
advantage, Jenna put her
hand to her forehead.
?I?ve a terrible
headache,? she said, at the
same time realising it was
true. She rubbed her
temples. ?Could I have my
luncheon on a tray, please,
Mrs Cate? I think I?ll go to
my room and lie down for a
bit.?
As soon as the meal had
finished, Lamorna came to
see how she was. Excitedly,
Jenna explained her plan to
her.
?Wonderful! How daring
you are. But you?ll have to
be careful,? she warned.
?Uncle Arthek is coming
this evening. He is to dine
with us and stay
overnight.?
?Oh.? Jenna?s shoulders
sagged as she felt her plan
begin to evaporate.
?I know!? Lamorna
continued. ?I?ll bring up
your meals myself. No-one
will be suspicious of that,
for everyone knows we?re
good friends.
?I?ll tell anyone who asks
that you have a sick
headache and must lie
quietly in the dark. I?m sure
no-one will guess anything.?
Her eyes gleamed.
?Goodness, what a
marvellous lark. I thought
adventures like this only
happened in stories!?
* * * *
The afternoon slowly
turned to evening as Jenna
rested in her room. It
seemed to take for ever for
midnight to come. But, at
last, she heard the pat of
feet outside her room which
she knew meant the maids
were retiring for the night.
She crossed her fingers,
fervently hoping that none
of them knocked to see how
she was, but her cousin
must have done her work
well for they all kept away.
She heard Nancy?s door
click shut next to hers.
Beneath the blanket,
pulled high beneath her
chin, she was fully dressed.
She watched the moon
slowly rise above the sill of
her uncurtained window,
while the house creaked as
it settled down for the
night.
At last, when all was
quiet, she eased herself off
the bed and tugged on her
boots, fumbling in the
darkness to find the eyelet
holes.
Finally they were done.
Wrapping her cloak about
her, she eased open the
door. When she had passed
through it, she closed it
softly behind her again and
tiptoed along the corridor
and down the servants?
stairs, feeling her way along
the cool plastered wall.
Once she was on the first
floor landing, it was easy to
find her way, for light from
the full moon dropped
through the panes of the
end window.
She made her way
towards it, tying her hood
ribbons tightly beneath her
chin as she went. Her heart
beat quickly as she slipped
the catch, easing up the
sash an inch at a time so as
not to make a noise.
There came the far-off
hoot of an owl and a rush
of fresh night air, then
suddenly there was enough
space for her to squeeze
through. Before she knew it
she was out on to the roof,
pulling the window shut
behind her.
Cold pinched her cheeks
and nose as she felt for a
foothold in the ivy, and the
bruised leaves beneath her
boots emitted a sharp
earthy scent.
It was not as hard as
she?d thought it would be
to climb down, for the
bristly twining trunk
provided strong footholds
for her feet.
It was not as hard as
she?d thought to see,
either. Milky moonlight fell
on the frosted sloping roof
of the conservatory and on
to the verandah. She could
even make out the
shrubbery and the lawn
beyond.
She landed with a little
muffled thud, and
immediately turned on to
the path that led to the
back of the house. Once
she stopped to listen, but
hearing nothing more than
the bark of a fox, she
carried on.
She ran swiftly down the
path towards the copse, not
stopping again until she
reached the edge of the
trees. There, panting from
the run, she looked back at
the house.
Immediately, she wished
she hadn?t, for what she
saw set her heart
hammering hard. There was
a light flickering in the
drawing-room window. It
was only the faintest of
glows, but it seemed to her
like a candle flame. Had
somebody still been up and
about when she?d thought
they were all abed?
?Don?t be such a silly
maid,? she told herself
sternly. ?It?s nothing more
than moonlight upon the
pane. Besides, you?ve come
this far; you can hardly turn
back now.?
And with that thought,
she turned on her heel into
the darkness of the woods.
To be continued.
On
Reflection
From the manse
window
by Rev.
Ian W.F. Hamilton.
H
OW good is your
memory? Many readers,
I?m sure, would tell me
that they could recall quite
clearly things that happened
50 or more years ago as if
they happened yesterday, yet
can?t remember what actually
happened yesterday!
When I visit Glasgow, the
city of my birth, it?s not the first
occasion on which I have
forgotten, momentarily, where
I have parked my car! Was it
West George Street, or West
Regent Street . . . or was that
the last time? And yet I could
rhyme off no bother at all the
registration numbers of cars I
possessed years ago!
Memory is a funny thing, yet
it?s one of those things which
makes us human. Man has
wonderful power of mind to
remember, a gift given to him
by God.
Time, like an ever-rolling
stream, robs us of people, of
places, of personal happiness,
but with memory we can have
them for ever.
We are often told to
remember for a purpose ?
remember to pay your TV
licence; remember your
Highway Code; remember to
switch on the alarm when you
leave your home. These are all
very sensible, purposeful
reminders, and if we fail to
implement them it may cost
us.
However, surely the most
important command to
remember comes from Jesus,
spoken at the Last Supper:
?Do this in remembrance of
me.?
The memory Jesus
specifically wanted his friends
to recall ? and to recall with
thanksgiving ? was that of his
sacrificial death on the cross.
And down through the
centuries, whenever Jesus?s
friends ?do this in
remembrance of him?, they still
remember him with
thanksgiving.
Of course this is the time of
year when we especially
remember, on the 11th hour of
the 11th day of the 11th
month. At this time we
remember how evil and how
futile and how senseless war is,
how much suffering and sorrow
it causes.
But in the same way we
remember Jesus, we remember
at this time, with thanksgiving,
that today we do this in
remembrance of them.
With thanksgiving we pray for
the countless souls who gave
their all in two World Wars and
in so many wars and conflicts
since; those who sacrificed and
who continue to sacrifice, so
sadly, so bravely and so
enduringly right up to 2017.
Their lives and their
memories will live on for ever
in the hearts of so many.
?At the going down of the
sun and in the morning, we will
remember them.? With
profound thanksgiving we will
proudly and eternally
remember these comrades of
yesteryear and of today who
gave and who give their lives to
defend us.
And so today we pray that
their sacrifice may bring hope
to the world, and like the
supreme sacrifice of Christ on
the Cross, we remember now
so that their sacrifice may
ultimately be the instrument of
peace among the nations of the
world.
Remember especially with
hope in your heart for all the
days and years to come, the
One who said, ?Remember
me.? n
Next week: Rev. Ian
Petrie asks, ?What?s in
a name??
NATURE 75
Spiders
Strictly No
It takes two to tango with a
spider, as Malcolm D. Welshman
discovers . . .
iStock.
M
Y wife and I
had just settled
down to watch
?Strictly Come
Dancing? when
a giant spider shot out from
under the settee and did a
paso doble across the
carpet in front of the TV.
?Just look at that,? Maxeen
cried, pointing.
?A well-executed turn by
Debbie McGee,? I declared,
as Bruno Tonioli waved his
arms enthusiastically in the
air and the spider stopped
to wave two of his eight legs
before scuttling out of sight.
That spider was a giant
house spider ? eratigena
atrica, to give it its Latin
Outside, where
he belongs!
name. Dark orange-brown
in colour, this is the most
common critter to invade
our homes in the autumn.
And this year, as the
weather turns cooler and
wetter, we?re in for a mass
invasion. So we?d better
watch our steps. And not
just those on ?Strictly?.
?Spiders don?t specifically
want to enter your home,?
Simon Garrett, head of
learning at Bristol Zoological
Society, says. ?In fact, they?d
rather stay away as there?s
less food and it?s too dry
and clean.?
He goes on to explain that
it?s the urge to seek out a
mate that brings them in.
And suddenly it seems
they?re everywhere.
It?s because the females
rarely leave their nests that
the males have to scurry
around looking for them.
Webs are spun in corners,
between boxes in cellars,
behind cupboards, in attics
and near window openings.
We?ve a big one in the
cables behind our TV. No
doubt that?s where our
?Strictly? spider was heading
to find a mate.
After their fling, the female
will lay hundreds of eggs,
and in each egg sac there
can be up to 60
?spiderlings?.
Unfortunately, we can?t
stop them crawling into our
homes.
David Cross, head of the
Technical Training Academy
at Rentokil Pest Control,
says, ?As spiders are able to
squeeze themselves through
tiny gaps and holes, it?s
impossible to proof your
house against them
completely, but of course,
closing doors and windows
will help to keep them at
bay.?
Apart from the giant
house spiders, other likely
contenders to waltz into
you, at least that can?t hurt
you, unlike a false widow
spider ? steatoda nobilis.
These are only two
centimetres wide, dark
?Very few species of spider
will bite people?
your home are the missing
sector orb spider, the daddy
long legs, the lace web
spider and the zebra
jumping spider.
Add to that list the
smallest ? the money spider
? so called because
according to superstition, if
one got stuck in your hair it
would bring you good luck
and wealth.
Not so welcome is an
encounter with a cardinal
spider. At 14 cm across, it?s
the largest in the UK. Mind
brown with a bulbous
abdomen, but are Britain?s
most venomous spider.
Some adult female false
widows have been known
to bite humans. Symptoms
range from a numb
sensation to severe swelling
and discomfort.
?Very few species of
spider will bite people and
of those that try, only a
small number can even
break our skin,? Simon
Garrett confirms
reassuringly.
?There are no
inherently deadly species
of spider found in the UK as
their venom is designed for
killing much smaller, simpler
creatures for food, such as
insects.?
Even so, I quickly scoot
out to make sure the back
door is firmly closed and all
the windows fastened. And
once ?Strictly? has finished
I?ll do another vacuuming of
the house, with the
extension nozzle fitted to
target sheltered spots and
corners of the ceilings.
At least that will ensure no
webs are being spun and
that there are no dead flies
or other small crawling
insects around for any
spiders to feed on.
Keeping spiders in their place
We live in a sprawling
Victorian house so the
number of entry portals for
spiders is endless. And as
the house is surrounded by
woodland with piles of logs
and muck heaps, the
arachnoid fraternity
continues to thrive with
vigour, ready and waiting
to creep in as cooler days
approach.
There are plenty of tips
to help lessen the chances
of me being ravished by a
rampaging false widow.
I?ve spent a fortune on
tubes of ready-mixed filler,
squirting it into gaps round
pipework and skirting
boards to fill in the gaps
where they might sneak in.
Another suggestion to
limit spider influxes is to
reduce lighting. Insects are
drawn to light, and flies
and moths are perfect
spider fodder, so reducing
outside lighting will in
theory reduce the number
of spiders around. I did
attempt this with the light
that illuminates the yard
across to our stable block.
?What do you think
you?re doing?? Maxeen
yelled one evening earlier
this week as she was
suddenly plunged into
darkness as she crossed
the yard back to the house.
I?d switched off the lights
thinking she was already
?Spiders
don?t want
to enter your
home?
Needless to say, the
appearance of our giant
house spider that evening
had Maxeen demanding its
instant capture and
expulsion.
I used to use the standard
?glass and a stiff piece of
cardboard? technique. But
house spiders can quickstep
at a rate of knots and many
times I?ve missed in my
attempts to trap one under
a tumbler.
It was Maxeen who
provided the solution.
No, she didn?t do the
trapping herself but
purchased a more effective
device for me to do so. It?s
called a My Pink Pals Bug
Buster.
?What on earth . . .?? I
faltered when she first
flashed the long vacuum
tube at me with a flourish
worthy of Darth Vader in
?Star Wars?.
?It will suck it up,? she
explained, switching the
gadget on.
And it does work a treat.
The bug buster consists of a
hand held, battery-powered
spider and insect trap,
enabling me to vacuum up
spiders safely from the end
of the 64-cm-long tube.
Then it?s a quick release
outside without the need to
touch them.
I need to hurry. It?s nearly
time for Alexandra Burke
and Gorka to take to the
floor.
?Now, matey, let?s be
having you,? I mutter, poking
my bug buster round the
back of the TV . . . n
For more information
indoors. As a consequence,
she stepped into unseen fox
droppings, and stomped in
leaving footprints across the
floor.
Foul odour though it was,
that sort of smell wouldn?t
deter spiders. But the smell
of citrus fruits like lemon, or
eucalyptus, tea tree and
peppermint oils would. So it
might be worth rubbing
lemon peel around window
and door frames or spraying
other scents round them.
An old wives? tale says that
spiders don?t like conkers
and that placing them
around the house will keep
them at bay. I suppose it?s
worth a try, though you
might end up saying, ?What
a load of old conkers.?
Coming bang up to date
regarding deterrents, you
have ultrasonic pest
repellents. These gadgets
are plugged in and emit
ultrasonic and electromagnetic waves which
stimulate the hearing and
brain nerves of most
crawling and flying insects.
Spiders are meant to feel
terrorised in the affected
area and will flee away.
So, if the pulsating
rhythms of ?Strictly? aren?t
effective, then one of these
devices plugged in near the
TV should do the trick with
the spider rapidly foxtrotting
out of the room.
Lemon
Eucalyptus
Tea tree
Peppermint
Reducing outside
lighting will help
to deter spiders.
Bristol Zoo has been running its Living With Spiders course for more than 20 years, helping people who want to
get over a fear of spiders. For more information about the course and future dates, visit, www.bristolzoo.org.uk/
whats-on/living-with-spiders or call 0117 974 7369.
FREE
WELCOME GIFT
with every order!*
Fantastic Subscription Offers
Free
CraNBerry
& GINGer
dIFFUSer
Free
BeaNO
BeaNIe
Free
tHIStLe tOt
GLaSS
Free
BeSt FrIeNdS
JeWeLLery
Set
Free
PearL
JeWeLLery
Set
Six Months: �.99 (UK)
�.99 (Overseas)
One year: �.49 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
Six Months: �.99 (UK)
�.99 (Overseas)
One year: �.00 (UK)
�7.00 (Overseas)
One year:
�.00 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
two years: �.00 (UK)
�6.20 (Overseas)
Six Months: �.49 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
One year: �.99 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
One year:
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.00 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.00 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�25 (UK) every 3 months
�.50 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�.00 (UK) every 3 months
�.50 (Overseas) every 3 months
BeSt deaL
direct debit*
�25 (UK) every 3 months
�25 (Overseas) every 3 months
Oday
Order t
Quote promotion code JOy17 for your free gift
ONLINe: www.dcthomsonshop.co.uk
FREEPHONE 0800 318 846 quoting PFNVE.
FreePHONe: 0800 318 846
Free from UK landlines and mobiles only.
�.00 (UK)
�.00 (Overseas)
two years**:�.90 (UK)
�.10 (Overseas)
tles
at ti .
e
r
g
m
More oose fro Y17
h
JO
c
to
Code
m
o
r
P
Lines
Mon-Fri,
9am-5pm
Sat.Mon-Fri
Overseas
+44
1382 575580
(Freeopen
from8am-6pm
UK only. Lines
open
8am-6pm
and
9am-5pm
Sat.)
Overseas: +44 1382 575580
ONLINE www.thepeoplesfriend.co.uk/subscriptions
*Best value direct debit quarterly rates are one year minimum term. UK bank accounts only. For any overseas enquiries please call: +44 1382 575580 or email:
shop@dcthomson.co.uk. Offer ends 31st december 2017. **direct debit and 2 year subscribers of this england will receive a Free this england 2018 Calendar.
believe it?
Would you
Got a question? Get in touch through e-mail
wouldyoubelieveit@dctmedia.co.uk or *write to
?The People?s Friend?, 2 Albert Square, Dundee DD1 9QJ.
I?D LIKE TO KNOW
Q
A
Western scientists ?discovered? this fifth
taste along with sweet, sour, salty and
bitter. So, it?s the taste that doesn?t quite
fit into any of these categories! The origin of the
word is Japanese and umami translates to mean
deliciousness or savoury taste. It apparently adds
a punch of flavour to dishes, so if you want to
add a spoonful of deliciousness to your cooking
you can buy umami paste from supermarkets.
The ingredients in this can include everything
from tomato paste through to black olives.
red poppies are made
every year for the
Royal British Legion?s
annual Poppy Appeal.
iStock.
65%
What is the full phrase
of the superstition that
advises never to wear red
and green?
Mrs W.B., Skegness.
of British
parents
admit that
their pre-teen children
are better and faster
at using laptops and
smartphones than
they are!
A
November 7
Q
The phrase ?red and green
should never be seen?
sometimes also has the
addition of ?unless upon an Irish
queen? or ?without a colour in
between? and is more a fashion
mantra rather than superstition.
Some people argue that the saying
is actually blue and green.
Something we didn?t
know last week...
No longer do we consult travel brochures
before booking trips away ? it appears
we?re now deciding where to go on holiday
by watching television or going to the
cinema! From Poldark?s Bodmin Moor to
the Icelandic wilderness used in ?Game Of
Thrones?, it appears we all want to explore
the silver screen?s real-life locations.
?The release of ?Victoria And Abdul?
caused a spike of 20% in searches for Isle
of Wight,? Dmitrijus Konovalovas of holiday
planning website IQPlanner revealed.
*Please do not send an SAE as we cannot give personal replies.
�6,000
45 million
A
Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin was
the first man in space when he
orbited the earth in 1961. The first
woman was also a Soviet ? Valentina
Tereshkova. She orbited the earth for
three days in June 1963. Valentina, who
turned eighty earlier this year, also had
a love of parachuting which apparently
helped her gain selection for her space
mission.
Q
16
gold medals have been
won by Britain in the
World Trampolining
Championships since
they began in 1964. Will
we add to our tally
in Bulgaria this
week?
is the starting salary
for a Formula 1
racing driver, rising to
�,580,000.
I know that Yuri Gagarin was the
first man in space, but who was
the first woman?
Mrs N.McK., Stirling.
I have been cooking for most
of my life and I?m now nearing eighty,
so why am I only just hearing about
something called umami ? and what is it?
Mrs L.C., Manchester.
TEA-BREAK TRIVIA 79
is officially
International Tongue
Twister Day ? and
that?s not easy to say!
1,864
giant pandas are
believed to be living in
the wild ? an increase
of 10% over the last
10 years.
Special
KNITTING 81
Effects
Our top has a plain front
and contrasting lace
back and comes in five
versatile sizes.
MEASUREMENTS
To fit sizes: 81/86 cm (32/34 ins), 86/91
(34/36), 91/97 (36/38), 97/102 (38/40),
102/107 (40/42).
Actual size: 88 cm (34� ins), 93 (36�),
99 (39), 104 (41), 109 (43).
Length: 60 cm (23� ins), 61 (24), 62
(24�), 64 (25�), 66 (26).
MATERIALS
4 (4, 4, 5, 5) 100-gram balls of Rico
Essentials Acrylic Antipilling DK in Light
Grey (008). One pair 3.25 mm (No. 10)
and 4 mm (No. 8) knitting needles;
stitch-holders. If you have difficulty finding
the yarn used, you can order directly from
Wool Warehouse,
website: www.woolwarehouse.co.uk,
telephone: 0800 505 3300.
TENSION
22 sts and 30 rows to 10 cm measured
over st-st using 4 mm needles.
ABBREVIATIONS
dec ? decrease; foll ? foll; inc ? increase;
K ? knit; KB ? knit into next st on row
below; P ? purl; psso ? pass slipped st over;
rem ? remain; rep ? repeat; SKPO ? slip 1,
K1, psso; st(s) ? stitches; st-st ? stockingstitch (K1 row, P1 row); T3L ? slip 2 sts on
to cable needle and hold at front, K1, then
K2 from cable needle: T3R ? slip 1 st on to
cable needle and hold at back, K2, then K1
from cable needle; TK1 ? knit into back of
next st; TP1 ? purl into back of next st;
tog ? together; yf ? yarn forward;
yon ? yarn over needle; yrn ? yarn round
needle.
Important Note
Directions are given for five sizes. Figures in
brackets refer to the four larger sizes. Figures
in square brackets [ ] refer to all sizes and
are worked the number of times stated.
When writing to us you must enclose an SAE
if you would like a reply.
intermediate
82
BACK
With 3.25 mm needles,
cast on 123 (131, 139, 145,
153) sts.
1st rib row ? ?K1, P1, rep
from ? to last st, K1.
2nd rib row ? ?P1, K1, rep
from ? to last st, P1.
Rib 7 rows in rib as set ???.
Dec row ? P2, [P2tog, P1] 4
(4, 12, 13, 13) times, [P2tog,
P2] 24 (26, 16, 16, 18) times,
[P2tog, P1] 4 (4, 12, 13,
13) times, P1 ? 91 (97, 99,
103, 109) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles:
1st row ? K19 (22, 7, 9, 12),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, T3L, K1,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times ??, rep
from ?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K19 (22, 7, 9, 12).
2nd row ? Purl.
3rd row ? K18 (21, 6, 8, 11),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K3, T3L, K1,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10,
[yf, SKPO] 3 times ??, rep
from ?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K18 (21, 6, 8, 11).
4th row ? Purl.
5th row ? K17 (20, 5, 7, 10),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K2, T3L, K1, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, ?? K10, [yf, SKPO] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K17
(20, 5, 7, 10).
6th row ? Purl.
7th row ? K16 (19, 4, 6, 9),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K1, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ?? K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K16 (19, 4, 6, 9).
8th row ? Purl.
9th row ? K15 (18, 3, 5, 8),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K3, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ??K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K15 (18, 3, 5, 8).
10th row ? Purl.
11th row ? K14 (17, 2, 4, 7),
?[K2tog, yf] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, K1, T3R, K1, K2tog, yf,
K5, yf, SKPO, K1, T3L, K1, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times, ??K10, [yf,
SKPO] 3 times ??, rep from
?? to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times, K14 (17, 2, 4, 7).
12th row ? Purl.
13th row ? K15 (18, 3, 5, 8),
?[yf, SKPO] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, T3L, [K2tog, yf, K1]
twice, yf, SKPO, K1, yf, SKPO,
T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3 times,
??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K15
(18, 3, 5, 8).
14th row ? Purl.
15th row ? K16 (19, 4, 6, 9),
?[yf, SKPO] 3 times, K10 ?,
rep from ? to ? 0 (0, 1, 1,
1) times more, [yf, SKPO] 3
times, T3L, K1, K2tog, yf, yrn,
sl1, K2tog, psso, yf, yrn, SKPO,
K1, T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3 times,
??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K16
(19, 4, 6, 9).
16th row ? P43 (46, 47, 49,
52), [P1, K1] into ?yf, yrn? of
previous row, P1, [P1, K1] into
?yf, yrn? of previous row, P43
(46, 47, 49, 52).
17th row ? K17 (20, 5, 7,
10), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K2, yf, sl1, K2tog,
psso, yf, K2, T3R, [K2tog, yf] 3
times, ??K10, [K2tog, yf] 3
times ??, rep from ?? to
?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times, K17
(20, 5, 7, 10).
18th row ? Purl.
19th row ? K18 (21, 6, 8,
11), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K5, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K18 (21, 6, 8, 11).
20th row ? Purl.
21st row ? K19 (22, 7, 9,
12), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K3, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K19 (22, 7, 9, 12).
22nd row ? Purl.
23rd row ? K20 (23, 8, 10,
13), ?[yf, SKPO] 3 times,
K10 ?, rep from ? to ? 0 (0,
1, 1, 1) times more, [yf, SKPO]
3 times, T3L, K1, T3R, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times, ??K10, [K2tog,
yf] 3 times ??, rep from ??
to ?? 0 (0, 1, 1, 1) times,
K20 (23, 8, 10, 13).
24th row ? Purl.
Cont in pattern as set until
back measures 41 (41, 41,
42, 43) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape armholes ? Work 5
(5, 5, 6, 6) rows, dec 1 st at
each end of every row ? 81
(87, 89, 91, 97) sts.
Cont straight until armholes
measure 19 (20, 21, 22,
23) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape shoulders ? Cast off
10 (12, 11, 12, 13) sts in patt
at beg of next 2 rows, then 11
(12, 12, 12, 14) sts in patt at
beg of following 2 rows ? 39
(39, 43, 43, 43) sts.
Leave these sts on a holder.
FRONT
Work as given for back
to ???.
Dec row ? P10 (10, 10, 13,
9), P2tog, [P2, P2tog] 25 (27,
29, 29, 33) times, P11 (11,
11, 14, 10) ? 97 (103, 109,
115, 119) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles, and
beg with a knit row, work in
st-st until work measures 41
(41, 41, 42, 43) cm, ending
after a purl row.
Shape armholes ? Work 5
(5, 5, 6, 6) rows, dec 1 st at
each end of every row ? 87
(93, 99, 103, 107) sts.
Cont without shaping until
armholes measure 8 (9, 10,
10, 11) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape neck ? K32 (35, 37,
39, 41), turn and leave
remaining 55 (58, 62, 64,
66) sts on a stitch-holder.
Next row ? Purl.
Work 3 rows, dec 1 st at neck
edge on every row ? 29 (32,
34, 36, 38) sts.
Work one row straight then
work 8 (8, 12, 12, 12) rows,
dec 1 st at neck edge on next
and every foll 4th row ? 27
(30, 31, 33, 35) sts.
Work 13 rows, dec 1 st at neck
edge on next and every foll
6th row ? 24 (27, 28, 30,
32) sts.
Cont straight until armhole
measures 19 (20, 21, 22,
23) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape shoulder ? Cast off
12 (13, 14, 15, 16) sts, knit to
end ? 12 (14, 14, 15, 16) sts.
Next row ? Purl. Cast off.
With right side facing, rejoin
yarn to rem 55 (58, 62, 64,
66) sts left on holder, slip 23
(23, 25, 25, 25) sts on to a
stitch-holder, knit to end ? 32
(35, 37, 39, 41) sts.
Next row ? Purl.
Complete to match other side,
reversing all shaping.
SLEEVES
With 3.25 mm needles, cast
on 67 (69, 69, 73, 73) sts and
work 9 rows in rib as for back.
Dec row ? P7 (8, 8, 6, 6),
P2tog, [P2, P2tog] 13 (13, 13,
15, 15) times, P6 (7, 7, 5, 5)
? 53 (55, 55, 57, 57) sts.
Change to 4 mm needles and
beg with a knit row, work in
st-st inc 1 st at each end of 5th
(5th, 5th, 3rd, 3rd) and every
foll 4th (4th, 4th, 2nd,
2nd) row until there are 69
(77, 77, 61, 67) sts, then inc
1 st at each end of every foll
6th (6th, 6th, 4th, 4th) row
until there are 79 (83, 83, 89,
93) sts.
Cont straight until work
measures 28 (28, 28, 28,
29) cm, ending after a
wrong-side row.
Shape top ? Work 5 (5, 5, 6,
6) rows, dec 1 st at each end
of every row ? 69 (73, 73, 77,
81) sts.
Work 1 (1, 1, 0, 0) rows more.
Cast off 5 (4, 3, 3, 3) sts at
beg of next 12 (16, 8, 20,
24) rows ? 9 (9, 49, 17,
9) sts.
3rd and 4th sizes only
? Cast off 4 sts at beg of next
?, (?, 10, 2, ?) rows ? 9 sts.
All sizes ? Cast off.
TO COMPLETE
Neckband ? Join right
shoulder seam. With 3.25 mm
needles and right side facing,
pick up and knit 32 (32, 32,
34, 34) sts evenly along left
neck, work across 23 (23, 25,
25, 25) sts left on holder at
front as folls: K4 (4, 5, 5, 5),
inc in next st, [K4, inc in next
st] 3 times, K3 (3, 4, 4, 4),
pick up and knit 32 (32, 32,
34, 34) sts along right neck
and work across 39 (39, 43,
43, 43) sts left on holder at
back as folls: K4 (4, 6, 6, 6),
inc in next st, [K4, inc in next
st] 6 times, K4 (4, 6, 6, 6) ?
137 (137, 143, 147, 147) sts.
Work 6 rows in rib as for front,
beg with a 2nd row. Cast off.
To Make Up ? Join left
shoulder and neckband seam.
Join side and sleeve seams. n
Next week: a pretty
cardigan to knit
FOOD
85
What?s In Season
Parsnips
Frost turns the starch in some plants into sugar. This
helps protect them from freezing. It also makes them
taste even more delicious! Brussels sprouts, kale,
celeriac and swede all benefit, but the sweetest of all
are parsnips. Parsnips contain fibre, vitamin C,
potassium and folate. The really big roots can be
woody, so look for medium sized for the best texture.
They?re delicious roasted, mashed, made into crisps,
or grated raw into salad, and even used in cake recipes.
Butter
Me Up
Fancy a bit of better butter?
The Kilner butter churner is
ideal for producing your own
home-made butter. Place
whipping cream into the
churner, turn the handle for 10
minutes or so and enjoy! RRP
�, visit www.kilnerjar.co.uk
or call 0151 486 1888
for stockists.
iStock.
enjoy
CookEAT
Coming to a kitchen near you...
Must Read
November 14 is World
Diabetes Day and chef Phil
Vickery?s ?Ultimate Diabetes
Cookbook? will be ideal for the
4.5 million people in the UK
diagnosed with this condition.
Conforming to Diabetes UK
guidelines, the book has more
than 100 easy-to-cook recipes
that the whole family can
enjoy. Out November 9, priced
�.99, from bookstores.
O
NCE Bonfire Night is over,
it feels like winter is truly on
the way. The darker, colder
days of November are a great time
for comforting food like soups and
casseroles. If you have less time to
spend in the kitchen, a stir fry is a
brilliant way to pack lots of colourful
vegetables into a meal ? adding
noodles will keep that essential
comfort factor. Seasonal vegetables
for your shopping list this month
include butternut squash, cabbage,
carrots, cauliflower, kale, parsnips,
pumpkin, swede and turnips.
Good Eggs
After a year-long safety study,
the Food Standards Agency
(FSA) has changed its advice on
eggs, confirming that British Lion
eggs are safe to be eaten runny,
and even raw, by mums-to-be,
infants, children and elderly
people. Dippy eggs are
back on the menu!
3 great vegan ingredient swaps
Egg-free
eggs!
Vegan easy egg,
�89, Ocado
Dairy-free
and no
refined
sugar
Ombar vegan chocolate,
�99, Whole Foods
Market, Planet Organic and
independent health stores.
Vegan,
organic
and gluten
free
Lentil penne, �00,
Asda
SHORT STORY BY REBECCA MANSELL 87
A Pair
Of Brown
Eyes
Bonnie was my granddaughter?s
best friend, but I liked to think we
had a connection, too . . .
Illustration by Sarah Holliday.
G
RAN, I?ve run
away.?
Those were the
words that
greeted me when I
answered my front door.
I stood there for a
moment, taking in my
granddaughter?s dishevelled
appearance. Her hair was
unkempt, there was a dirty
mark on her nose and her
blouse had lost a button.
As I looked down, I saw
her jeans were tattered and
frayed, then remembered it
was how young people
wore them now.
And she had grown a tail.
I blinked. Was I seeing
things?
Suddenly the tail moved
to reveal a golden body,
and a pair of earnest brown
eyes gazed up at me.
?Julie,? I said, frowning.
?What do you mean??
I stood back to allow her
to slip past me into the
house, followed by the dog,
who glanced at me with a
meaningful look and
scampered after her.
?Julie,? I called after her.
?Does your mother know??
?Do you have any buns?
I?m starving. It always
smells so delicious here.?
I sighed, letting the door
swing shut and steeling
myself as I entered the
kitchen.
I loved my granddaughter
to bits but I wasn?t
equipped to deal with
teenage angst. Julie?s
mother Fiona had never
given me any trouble, apart
from the time I?d caught
her trying to puff on a
cigarette on the way home
from school. Peer pressure,
she?d told me, and never
touched one again. As far
as I knew.
The dog had made herself
at home, stretched out on
the floor, panting.
?What have you both
been doing? You?re filthy.?
I opened a cupboard
door and pulled out a large
tin with the word Cakes
emblazoned upon it in
swirly golden script. My
daughter had written on it
when she was young; she
loved my baking.
?You?re a star, Gran,?
Julie said, her eyes lighting
up.
?So what?s happened?
You haven?t been in the
woods again, have you??
Julie always walked to the
park near her home when
she was upset and needed
to think. She went missing
once when she was just six
years old.
Fiona and I had been in
the garden and she?d
opened the catch on the
gate without us seeing and
just disappeared. We
searched everywhere for
her, growing more frantic
with every passing second.
Eventually we found her
sitting underneath a huge
sycamore tree, examining
the leaves. She had no idea
how worried we had been.
After that my daughter
said that Julie was like a
forest fairy. Her favourite
colour was green and she
had quite a collection of
books on woodland wildlife
and birds.
She even had her
sixteenth birthday party in
the woods, with lanterns for
light and tree stumps for
seats.
?I had a huge argument
with Mum. She doesn?t
understand me, Gran.
Bonnie and I went to the
woods and played a game
of sticks.?
I looked at the dog and
she gazed back at me.
?I think you?ve exhausted
her,? I said as I got out a
couple of coffee mugs.
?Oh, she?s fine.? Julie
bent down and ruffled the
dog?s fur. ?I couldn?t leave
her behind, Gran. She?s my
best friend.?
That was one of the
problems really. Julie didn?t
seem to have any real
friends. Even at sixth form
college, she was never close
to anyone, preferring her
own company.
Her mother had struggled
to find people to come to
her woodland birthday
party; Julie had hardly even
spoken to many of them.
They?d just liked the idea of
the alternative venue.
Last month, Julie and
Fiona had accepted Bonnie
into their home. Fiona knew
the local vet who was
looking for a home for the
two-year-old Labrador.
Her previous owner had
been an elderly lady who
had moved into a flat
where pets weren?t allowed.
Bonnie had been very sad
when they collected her, but
now she was doing well,
spending all her time with
Julie. Fiona thought it
would do Julie good to
have her companionship.
I could understand that.
Sometimes I felt lonely
myself.
?You argued with your
mum?? I said, returning to
the matter in hand.
?She doesn?t listen to
me.? Julie slipped on to a
stool. ?But you do.?
I didn?t know which
beseeching expression to
look at, my granddaughter?s
or the dog?s.
We were interrupted
by the phone ringing.
Julie and I looked at
88
each other.
?That?ll be Mum.?
I picked up the phone.
?Yes, she can stay,? I
said to my daughter, who
sounded weary. ?Until you
sort it out.?
Julie spoke to her mother
briefly to say that she was
sorry for getting angry and
worrying her.
While she chatted I filled
the kettle, and when I
turned round the dog was
watching me, her head on
one side, her eyes shiny.
?She likes you, Gran.?
?Hmm,? I said. ?Well, I?ve
nothing for her. You?ll have
to get her some dog food.?
Julie moved from her seat
and put her arms round me.
?Thanks for letting us
stay. I?ll pop out and get
some stuff from home and
Bonnie?s food.?
?Aren?t you taking her
with you?? I asked as Julie
grabbed the door keys.
?She?s tired,? Julie said.
?She?ll be fine with you.?
She was gone before I
could say anything else.
I often visited my
daughter through the week,
so Bonnie and I had already
spent time together since
she?d become part of the
family, and she was lovely.
She must have been a
marvellous companion for
her last owner, and I
wondered how she was
getting on without her.
A whine distracted me.
The dog was gazing at me
again, but this time she was
panting and wagging her
tail.
I filled a bowl with water
at the sink and put it down.
Bonnie gratefully lapped at
it then sat down and
barked at me.
?Why are you barking?? I
asked, alarmed.
She looked at me and
then at the door leading to
the garden.
?You want to go out??
Bonnie?s body brushed
my legs as she hurried
outside and I swooped to
pat her. Her fur was so soft.
I watched as she sniffed
around the garden,
exploring my borders and
eyeing a slumbering cat on
the gate.
She obediently plodded
back into the kitchen, sat
down and raised her paw to
me.
My heart softened as I
bent down to cuddle her.
She seemed surprised at
first, then leaned into me
affectionately.
I was just stroking her
head when Julie returned,
weighed down with her
belongings and dog food.
?Don?t you and Bonnie
get on well?? she said with
delight.
?Yes,? I replied, smiling.
?She?s lovely.?
?She?s the best. I don?t
suppose you could dog sit,
could you, Granny??
Julie only ever called me
that when she was trying to
get her own way.
?Now, look here,? I said,
trying to be firm. ?It?s one
thing you going out and
leaving me with her for half
an hour, but all evening?
You?re taking advantage of
my good nature.?
Julie laughed.
?And you have such a
lovely nature, Gran. That?s
why Bonnie likes you. She
doesn?t take to everyone,
you know. She senses good
and bad. She?s like a
psychic dog.?
?Is she now?? I said,
trying not to smile. ?Where
are you off to??
Julie sighed.
?The row I had with Mum
was about my future. She
says I have to think about
what I want to do. I said I
want to volunteer for the
vets as they?re looking for
help, but she says I have to
think about my education.?
I nodded.
?That does make sense.?
?I know. But I want to
make a difference to the
lives of animals, Gran.?
?I?m sure you will.?
I took the bag of treats
Julie had in her arms and
offered one to Bonnie.
?I?ve been trying to teach
her to give a paw,? Julie
said, gazing at Bonnie with
affection. ?But she just
jumps up at me.?
?It takes some time,? I
said as Bonnie gently took
the treat from me. ?A bit of
patience.?
?She?s so calm with you,
Gran.? Julie smiled. ?I?m
impressed.?
Bonnie looked at me
knowingly.
?I?m just meeting a girl I
know who?s at university,?
Julie said, pulling a
cardigan from a bag. ?I
won?t be long.?
Again, she was gone,
leaving her belongings on
the floor and a waft of her
perfume behind her.
?Typical,? I told Bonnie,
who had made herself at
home on the rug. ?It?s all
right for some.? I lifted the
bag. ?But some of us have
things to do.?
It was when I was coming
down the stairs that I
stumbled. Luckily I was on
the bottom step, but I cried
out in pain and leaned
against the banister, trying
to catch my breath.
Bonnie, alerted from her
slumber, scampered up to
me, then looked at me, her
brown eyes full of concern.
?I?ll be OK,? I said, trying
to reassure both her and
myself, but I could see my
ankle was already swollen.
Bonnie whined and I felt
like doing the same.
I hobbled to a chair and
sat down. The dog put her
paw on my lap and I patted
her reassuringly.
?I?ll be OK,? I whispered
to her and closed my eyes.
?Julie won?t be long.?
The pain from my ankle
seemed to be rising up
within me, then everything
went dark.
* * * *
When I opened my eyes, I
found myself looking into
an unfamiliar face.
?Who are you?? I gasped.
?How did you get in??
?Don?t worry.? The
stranger smiled. ?I?m from
the ambulance service. I?ll
just check you over before
we take you to hospital for
an X-ray on that ankle.?
?Gran!? Julie crouched
beside me, looking worried.
?I?m sorry. It?s all my fault.
If it wasn?t for Bonnie . . .?
?Oh, don?t be silly,? I
said, trying to smile. ?It was
just a stupid accident.?
Then I realised what she?d
said and frowned.
?What do you mean, if it
wasn?t for Bonnie??
I felt a wet nose nuzzling
my hand and looked into
the now familiar brown eyes.
?I must have left the front
door open,? Julie admitted.
?Bonnie came to look for
me in the woods. It was
lucky she found me ? I?d
only just got there after
meeting that girl.
?You know me, I went
there to think about what
she told me. Then Bonnie
appeared and started
barking, and I knew there
was something wrong.?
?You have a clever dog,?
the paramedic said. ?Man?s
best friend, they say.?
?Or woman?s.? I smiled,
patting Bonnie and laughing
when she put her paw on
my lap.
?Gran!? Julie said with
astonishment. ?She?s never
done that before.?
?Oh, hasn?t she?? I said,
feigning surprise. ?Perhaps
you were right about her
being psychic. She came to
get you when she knew I
was hurt.?
?I know. She?s amazing.
Actually, there is something
I need to ask you, Granny.?
?Make it quick,? the
paramedic said. ?We need
to take your granny to
hospital.?
?Gran,? I corrected him.
?My granddaughter only
ever calls me Granny when
she wants something.?
Julie flushed then spoke
quickly, as if she wanted to
hurry the words out before
she lost the nerve.
?Gran, would you be able
to look after Bonnie on a
permanent basis? I think I
might be going to university
to do a degree in animal
welfare and behaviour. And
Mum works full time, so she
can?t have her.?
Julie looked at me
hopefully.
?It?s obvious you and
Bonnie have a connection.
And I?ll see you all in the
holidays.?
?Well, my ankle may take
a while to heal, but Jim
next door has dogs. I?m
sure he?d love to take her
out for walks until I?m fit
again.?
Bonnie put both paws on
my lap and gazed at me
with her beautiful brown
eyes. How could I resist?
?I?d love to have her.?
?That?s sorted then,? the
paramedic said. ?Let?s get
you to hospital. Do you
need your granddaughter
to lock up??
?No,? I said, looking at
Bonnie, who peered back at
me knowingly. ?The door
always swings back and
locks itself.? n
PUZZLES 91
Kriss Kross
How long will it take you to correctly fit the
words relating to apples into the grid?
4 letters
7 letters
CORE
CRUMBLE
TREE
CRUNCHY
ORCHARD
PUREE
CALVADOS
SAUCE
PEARMAIN
6 letters
9 letters
EATING
DELICIOUS
RUSSET
DISCOVERY
T
R
E
E
Solutions
Brick Trick
Enter the answers to the clues in the bricks in the wall.
Every word is an anagram of its neighbours, plus or
minus a letter.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
1
2
3
4
5
6
Telepathic power (inits)(3)
Pastry dishes (4)
Acted as a secret agent (5)
Allay or scatter (6)
Pampered to excess (7)
Place to relax after
swimming (8)
7 Curly?haired dogs (7)
8 ___ off, left
unobtrusively (6)
9 Northern and southern
extremities of the globe (5)
10 Only (4)
11 Sign of the zodiac (3)
Kriss Kross
Brick Trick
E S P
P I E S
S P I E D
D I S P E L
S PO I L E D
POO L S I D E
POOD L E S
S L OP E D
PO L E S
SO L E
L EO
8 letters
C
R Y
R
U
NG
M
B
N
L
COR E
R
AUC E
N
T
RCHARD
H
E
Y
E
CIDER
D
D I S COV E
L
E A T I
C
C
P E ARMA I
L
O
C
V
U
I
A
P
S
D
D
U
E
O R O
RU S S E T
E
5 letters
All puzzles � Puzzler Media Ltd ?
www.puzzler.com
SOAP BY GLENDA YOUNG 93
OUR
WEEKLY
SOAP
It?s up to
George to save
the day!
iStock.
T
HE coach has
broken down??
George cried, trying
not to panic. ?What
do you mean??
Bill, the coach driver, just
shrugged.
?The engine?s not been
right for a while. I thought
it was making a strange
noise when I pulled out of
the garage this morning.?
George felt the stirring of
anxiety. He glanced across
the caf� to the riverside
windows, where more than
30 colleagues from his
shipyard days were
expecting a day out.
?Could you get another
coach for us?? George said.
?Your company must have
more than one coach.?
?Oh, we do. We?ve got a
whole fleet of coaches . . .?
Bill began and George felt
his shoulders relax ?. . . but
they?re booked out today.?
?What? All of them??
George said, trying to make
himself sound more calm
than he felt.
?It?s a big day at the
racing today,? Bill replied.
?We?ve had the whole fleet
booked out for months. My
boss only said yes to taking
your lads out today as a
favour to you, George.? Bill
shook his head again.
?Sorry.?
?What am I going to do??
George cried, pointing
towards the men who were
Riverside
settling into their seats for
breakfast.
Bill took his phone out of
his pocket.
?I can give you a couple of
numbers to ring, but you?ll
be lucky ? I don?t hold out
too much hope at such late
notice.?
?Thanks, Bill,? George
said. ?I?ll take the numbers
and make a few calls before
I say anything to the lads.?
?Everything all right,
Dad?? Susan asked as she
walked past him.
?I?ll tell you in five
minutes,? he replied.
With a glance behind him
to make sure no-one was
watching, George slipped
out of the front doors of the
Old Engine Room.
He disappeared around
the corner and dialled the
first number that Bill had
given him.
He dialled a second
number, and a third, but
the replies were all the
same. None of them had
any coaches available for
hire.
With a heavy heart,
George walked back into
the deli, dreading the
announcement he was
going to make. But before
he said a word to the men,
he decided to make one
final call.
* * * *
?Right, lads!? George said
to the men. ?I know we?ve
all been looking forward to
our day out today ??
A cheer went up around
the caf� and Mike came out
of the kitchen when he
heard the friendly roar.
He saw George standing
at the head of the tables
where the men were seated
and the scene made him
smile. It was just like the
old George when he used to
stand up in the shipyard
canteen addressing the
workers all those years ago.
?I?ve got some bad news,?
George continued.
?What?s to do?? one of
the men shouted.
?Our coach has brok
Документ
Категория
Журналы и газеты
Просмотров
0
Размер файла
41 702 Кб
Теги
The People’s Friend, journal
1/--страниц
Пожаловаться на содержимое документа