Page 11 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘That was mine,’ Mary said, her voice full of nostalgia. ‘Grandad painted it pink for me. Do you remember Dad?’
‘Aye.’ Atticus began to chuckle. ‘You thought you were a princess on a throne.’
The door creaked, and they turned to see Jake.
‘Grandad!’ Jake shouted. ‘What’s going on in here?’
‘We’re having a sort out,’ Mary said, brushing dust off Declan’s hands. ‘Can you help?’
Jake beamed. ‘I’ve been dying to get in here, but Dad has forbidden me.’ His eyes gleamed as he saw the old tools. ‘It’s like a time capsule. What’s first?’ he asked, rubbing his hands together.
Mary smiled. ‘Shall we see what’s at the back of the barn?’
They made their way past a pile of sheep shearing gear, and Atticus paused to study a pile of old combs, cutters, and weighing scales.
‘Did you use all this?’ Jake asked, frowning as he picked up a tin of raddle powder.
‘Aye, and I used this marking harness to brand the sheep.’ Atticus stroked the aged equipment.
‘What’s behind all this big stuff?’ Mary asked, gesturing for Jake to help lift and move a stack of wooden posts and several reams of mesh and fencingmaterial to one side.
Mary felt almost giddy as the shape of something familiar began to appear in the barn’s shadowy rear. Her heart was thumping as she moved toward the heavily draped canvas, covered in decades of dust and cobwebs.
‘What is it?’ Finn asked nervously.
‘Well, I never…’ Atticus was motionless as he stared at the object. ‘I’d completely forgotten…’
Everyone was silent and the old barn seemed to hold its breath.
Then Mary nodded to Jake, and suddenly, they took hold of the canvas and pulled it away with one dramatic sweep. Clasping her hands to her mouth, Mary gasped.
There she was! The Westfalia camping van!
A relic of past family holidays, once a bright yellow but now dulled by time, it was unmistakable. The round headlights stared like eyes, and the front grille seemed to smile as the old van was reunited with its owner.
Atticus was frozen, unable to move. ‘Hello, Winnie,’ he whispered.
‘Grandad!’ Jake breathed. ‘She’s amazing…’ He stepped forward and slowly began to caress the paintwork, assessing her condition with awe.
‘Do you remember?’ Mary asked, her voice soft as though afraid to break the spell.
A smile broke across Atticus’s face. ‘How could I forget?’ he murmured, his voice full of emotion. ‘Winnie took us everywhere.’
‘I wondered if you might get her going again,’ Mary said and glanced at Jake. ‘With your grandson’s help, of course.’
‘Oh, yes, Grandad, we have to!’ Jake said excitedly.
‘Well, she’s going to be in a state,’ Atticus finally replied. ‘It would be a big job to bring her back to life.’
Mary looked at her father, and a flicker of hope stirred in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she’d found the key to unlock his lethargy, and Winnie – the camper that had once carried so many memories – could bring Atticus back to life, too.
The old van sat in its fading glory, patiently waiting, as if it knew it had another story to tell. And perhaps, Mary prayed, with Jake’s hard work and Atticus’s enthusiasm, the best chapters for Winnie and her dad were yet to come.
Chapter Five
In the warmth of the lazy summer evening, laughter and chatter filled the garden of The Black Bull. Customers gathered around picnic tables to enjoy alfresco dining, tucking into hearty food and sipping on locally brewed beer. Hanging baskets, bursting with flowers, nestled beneath the thick thatched roof.
Inside the packed pub, tantalising cooking smells wafted from the kitchen, while a local musician strummed a guitar. He sang familiar folk songs, and locals joined visitors to sing along. In the snug, dressed alike in plaid cotton shirts and corduroy trousers, Atticus sat next to Arthur in their favourite corner by the bar.
