introducing…….
Jgirl14’s story, based on Grandpa’s young-boy wartime exploits, and most probably incorporating the experiences of other people she has had opportunity to interview whilst on this trip as well. People like extended family, who provide another slant to the same stories; people like our couchsurfing host’s mother in Bath, who had an altogether different wartime life, and whose letters received from her parents are now in a London museum (even – or perhaps especially – the ones with portions cut out of them – that’s censorship for you).
Here’s Draft One of Chapter One.
Anticipation
He sat rigid, waiting expectantly.
“Would today be the long-awaited day?”
As footfall sounded on the stairs, excitement mounted in Rupert’s heart. A woman walked briskly into the square sunlit room. Tenderly she lifted the light brown knit teddy bear off the bed and placed him on the chest of drawers.
Standing back, she regarded the appearance of the much loved teddy. Stuffing was falling out in tufts from a hole in his head, onto the bear’s embroidered face. And hanging on by a single thread was his right arm.
“Ah, Rupert, by looks it is about time to do your head and arm a favour. Joe will be happy, no doubt. When I’ve secured your limbs he needn’t fear for losing a part of you during his rambles.” Whilst talking to the teddy for company, the woman had been stripping the bed of its mantle. The task now completed, the bed was left to air.
Washday! Rupert loved this day of the week. The smell of soap, boiling water and, at the end of the day, crisp dry linen appealed to him. The only time Rupert was led to dislike washday was when he himself was given a scrub, but thankfully that was not often.
Rupert leaned back against one of many jam jars, which Joseph used for transporting tadpoles and the like, which was at present, empty.
Down in the garden he could hear the woman, Joseph’s mother, dunking the sheets, scrubbing vigorously, and finally hanging them out to dry.
He listened further; but he only heard the feeble cheeping of a bird, and his mind wandered, sleep overtaking him in spite of the early hour.
Rupert awoke to the sensation of being pulled together. The kind industrious lady was sewing him together with such tight stiches that he felt quite new.
“Wonderful! Maybe, now that I’m more respectable looking, just maybe Joe might tell me all about his latest adventure. Or even better still, he might take me along with him so we can share the excitement again.”
The door opened and in walked a boy. He was of medium height for his nine years and had a mop of red hair. In one hand he held a net and in the other, a pair of dripping wet gumboots.
“Mum, you know the stream that runs through the fields behind our house? Well it’s the best in all of England!” Joseph said, puddles following him across the floor.
“And why’s that?” asked his mother, tying off the wool.
“Because it is swimming with the most tadpoles I’ve ever seen. I hope you don’t mind, but I caught some.”
Joseph’s mother looked up sharply.
“Its all right mum, I put ’em in the tin bath,” Joseph reassured her.
Quickly she asked, “Did you change the water?”
“No, just popped ’em straight in.” Joseph sounded rather pleased.
“Joe,” his mother said in a sober voice, “the water in the bath was all soapy from washing clothes. I don’t think your tadpoles will survive.”
Immediately Joseph stopped grinning. Had he spent all afternoon catching the tadpoles, only to kill them in a tub of soapy water?
“Shall I go and fish them out?” he asked.
“I suspect it’s too late. I’ll tip the water out later. Here,” she handed Rupert to him. “He’s all sewn up for you.”
“Thanks Mum. I think that is the last time you will need to sew him up.”Picking up his favourite section of the “Daily Express” from the table as he wandered past, Joseph carried both treasures up to the bedroom, which he shared with his older brothers, Ronald and Peter. Joseph threw Rupert up in the air and watched as the bear landed with a slight bounce on the double bed.
Opening the paper, Joseph started to read ‘Rupert the Bear’, a comic strip about a white bear named Rupert.
Now Joseph’s Rupert was in no way related to ‘Rupert the Bear’, but Ronald, who had enjoyed reading about the real Rupert’s adventures, had started to call Joseph’s teddy bear Rupert when Joseph was a baby. And though he didn’t even look like the newspaper Rupert, the name had stuck.
Joseph looked up from the paper and gazed at his teddy who had accompanied him on so many adventures and who he had snuggled every night since he couldn’t remember when. Picking Rupert up, he seemed to stand for an endless while and then declared, “You look a sight better than this morning!”
Rupert felt the old excitement rekindle. He had hoped Joseph would notice.
“But old chap,” Joseph paused, then continued slowly, “I’m getting too old to be seen with you.”
Rupert’s little teddy heart sank, a sense of abandonment filling it. “If only we could go on one last adventure,” he thought. Even though he had known this day was coming, it was hard to console himself now that it had arrived.Someone entered the room, causing Joseph to look up.
“Oh it’s you, Ronald,” Joseph said, still holding the bear.
Ronald smiled at his youngest brother. Although there was a six year gap between them, both were very close, as was the whole family.“It’s about time you said farewell to that bear of yours.”
“Not farewell.” Joseph jumped up. “I just won’t…drag him through the mud with me, shall we say.”Rupert felt a little hopeful upon hearing this.
“There’s always the possibility that Joseph might still tell me about his adventures. That would be almost as good as being there. And certainly better than not knowing anything,” he thought.
“I understand. But will you still take him to bed with you?” enquired Ronald.“No…I’m getting too old, aren’t I?”
Ronald nodded. Giving Rupert one last look Joseph said, “Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed all the fun we have had together,” and with that he placed his dearly loved companion on the shelf and turned to Ronald.
“Guess what happened today.”“I couldn’t. So many things happen to you it’s not funny,” replied Ronald.
“Well I caught some tadpoles…” Joseph could be heard recounting his latest adventure as they walked together down the stairs. Hard on each other’s heels they passed into the living room. As the footstep echoes died away, Rupert, finding himself engulfed in the silence, slowly realized he would now have plenty of time to savour the memories of his life- so-far. And so he laid his head back, closed his embroidered eyes and began to remember.
Tags: 2008/09, book, children, grandpa's stories, history, learning, postcard: England
rayres
LOVE IT!! (We’ve enjoyed some Rupert Bear at our place recently, too!)
awesome, it leaves me wondering… wanting more!
your language is lilting, poetic, decriptive, so natural.
i can’t wait for the next installment! X
Hey that was really cool. Looking forward to hearing more. 🙂
Joe,
I loved your blog. You saw my sister, Elizabeth in Belper. I would like to get in touch with you. I liked seeing my house!!!
Cathy (Cassie)
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